KEIRA
"It's your favorite show! How on earth are you going to sleep this early?"
My dad looks shocked. But I know why.
The television brings in the opening sequence, where a young guy has to decide which woman he will marry, and dad, being the big bear he is, puts through it every week just for mum.
And I also know why he does it.
I'm no fool to the sounds of a bed slamming against the bedroom walls, and I can only imagine what it must be like to have him balls deep.
Every week there is a pattern. He watches the show with my mom, they get closer together, and then he empties his big low hangers inside her. And tonight, it's my chance.
"Don't go yet, mum you love this part," I say, trying to be neutral. I'm thinking about a poker game, and I don't want to give away my next move.
She shakes her head negatively. I can already see her eyelids shutting down. It's working.
"Oh, sorry, mum. I'll record it for you."
I'm such a good girl.
Father walks mother into the bedroom, and I hear him saying something in his low voice, and then walks back again. I jump to the fridge and give him a cold beer like I have been doing the last few weeks. He looks at me and nods. Damn, his big greenish eyes always get me, and that thick beard and hairy chest, his tan skin, and olive-soft lips.
"Thanks, Keira," he says, making my body purr.
He's twice my size. All my three brothers are just like him, big and manly, but I, being the youngest in the middle of such a jungle of men, have always been protected. Always got my own room, while my siblings fought for privacy.
I watch him drink the can and how his throat moves as he takes it down in one go. After a whole day at work on the construction site with my brothers, this is something he needs to decompress. He gives me a long look, noticing my long legs and perky breasts, as he normally does.
"Do you want another one?" I ask, eager to get him relaxed. My heart jumps as he smashes the can in one hand, "if you don't mind," he says back. A sheepish look in my eyes, and I brush over him as I quickly ran to the kitchen, bringing two more beers with me.
I've been through this in my head ten thousand times.
I'm not failing any step of my plan.
For years I watched my father with such temptation that I no longer recognise myself.
"How's Dennis?" he asks as a show of women happens on the television, dad scratching his bulge. I look down at his bare feet, enormous by any standards, and how his calves alone could crush me.
Dennis is my boyfriend. "We broke up," I say. It's a lie, and it wasn't part of the plan to mention him, but in the spur of the moment, I thought that was the best answer.
Dad places his arm around me and gives me support. I can inhale him, and that fires me up. Never been this horny, except when I grabbed his used underwear and masturbated over it.
"You're still young, Keira."
"I'm turning twenty next week," I reply, pouting.
"Exactly. If you were almost fifty like I am, that's a different conversation."
My fingers wrap around his arm, and I snuggle as we watch the show. My eyes see nothing, though, only the thought of being this close to him.
We hug, yes, but father always keeps his boundaries. He's much more physical with my brothers, brute like him, but makes an effort to be delicate with me.
BRUCE
She's not so little anymore. She's a woman.
My Keira grew up to be a traffic stopper, a woman so beautiful that it is difficult to know she's been dating that jerk called Dennis. I give him credit for being able to tolerate three older brothers and an overprotective dad - but as Keira snuggles in my chest as we see this godawful show, she confesses they broke up.
I don't dare tell her how happy I am.
But, at the same time, knowing another man has taken her away from me, makes it even more difficult to accept reality. But it was her choice. Nothing could stop her, not even my big bear figure, and instead of losing her for good because I was keeping all her boyfriends at bay, her mother explained to me I had to let go.
She's not my property.
And I'm glad I did because it's fucking strange having this thought about your own daughter. She's a woman, after all, and so far, there has not been a single woman that couldn't get me hard within seconds.
But for Keira to have that effect on me, that was a different story. But last year, something changed. She became more... flirty? Is that the right word? While she was away studying, I never felt this attraction, but now, she spends more time around the house, she's here when I arrive, compliments my figure, all dusty and tired.
She hands me another beer while on TV the guy makes the fucking wrong choice. It's funny, I only started seeing this show because my wife gets all horny after it, and if it means getting laid, I'll power through it. But my wife's no longer wants to have sex every single day, and I don't seem to be diminishing my sexual desire at all.
How many nights have I gone to the toilet and masturbated to the desires of my soul?
And promise you won't tell Keira I took her panties lying on the rim of the laundry basket and soaked them in my cum? It was only after the orgasm that it dawned on me how wrong it all was.
Since then, I've done it countless other times. Can't help it, it's like an unstoppable force, begging me to be as filthy as I can be, sending rope after rope into that sweet docile fabric that covered her cunt all day.
Now, she grabs my arm, protesting the choice the guy just made. And all I can think about is I'm not going to get laid. It is, indeed, so out of character for Theresa to simply go to bed this early, just after dinner, when she was so lively.
These women on the show always get my blood going, they're hot but plastic. Keira, on the other hand, is flesh and bone and so close to me right now.
The program ends, and now I'm facing my daughter lying on my shoulder, and a semi that doesn't want to go down. I focus my thoughts on everything that's not related to women but still don't budge. Damn, I have to fuck.
It's like built-in my spirit already. Once the end title comes up, my cock springs to attention. And it's like she knows it because if I wasn't careful, then her hand would grab it as she made a movement to change position.
"I'm glad we still have these moments together," she says, asking me if I want another beer. No, I had enough already.
"My sweet Keira, getting late for me too. I think I'll join mom and call it a night."
"So soon?" she pouts. I hate it when she pouts, those full lips and long hair. Damn, I'd give anything to grab it and force her throat down my cock. At least her lips wouldn't pout anymore.
"Your brothers coming over in the morning, and we like to do things early."
And I leave her, my conscience in the right place, but my cock in the wrong one. What was she doing to me? All these feelings boiling, turning me into a deliberate pervert, and it's her face I see as I drop my shorts on the floor and lube my cock up with spit, two hands as I like it, and it's her face I see, it's her ass I slap hard. Damn, her panties sliding up and down as I stroke, everything around me turning into a blur, and I close my eyes - I don't take long, not after being near her for one hour and watching that stupid show - it comes rushing out, splattering against the wall, my balls slapping against my closed fists. It's a family trait, big balls, big cocks, my father was the same, and my sons follow after me.
And as I turn to clean, I see those sweet innocent eyes running away.
KEIRA
