Disclaimer: Everyone in this story is over 18 years of age. If you find incest in any form offensive I'd suggest you give this story a miss.
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Chris Andrews stood over his daughter; Reede. She had fallen asleep on the sofa half an hour ago after returning home from a night out with her friends, and had changed so she was wearing an old white t-shirt that was at least two sizes to small and a pair of pink hot pants that barely reached the bottom of her round arse. Her tits, which were 34C and almost impossibly pert, practically spilled out over the edge of her top. Chris leaned in and gently brushed her long black hair out of her face before scooping her up, like a groom would his new bride, and carrying her up to her room. She began to stir when they were halfway up the stairs, but he had shushed his 18 year-old daughter and told her to go back to sleep.
Chris tucked his daughter in and kissed her on the cheek, she mumbled out a thank you as he closed her door behind him. In the hallway Chris leaned against Reede's door and let out a sigh of relief -- seeing her tonight, first in her mini-skirt before she went out and then just minutes ago curled up on the sofa, had sent seedy and sordid thoughts running through his head. His daughter was gorgeous, and not in the way most fathers viewed their little girls. It had taken all his willpower to just carry her up the stairs and put her into bed -- he wanted desperately to strip her naked, run his hands up and down her legs, massage her breasts and stroke every inch of her creamy white skin.
He looked up at the ceiling; 'go to bed, go to bed and you'll have forgotten about this in the morning,' he thought to himself. Then he felt his dick growing, pushing into his jeans. He gulped, turned, and slowly opened to door to Reede's bedroom. Quietly and with one eye on his daughter, who was still completely out of it, he crept over to her washing basket and delved in, grabbed the first pair of panties he could find and made a hasty exit back into the hall. He stared at the pink cotton panties he'd emerged with and then did something that sickened and thrilled him in equal measure -- held them to his nose and mouth before breathing in Reede's scent. His head began to swirl and he dropped his daughter's underwear outside her door, before stumbling towards his bedroom. He stripped down to his boxers and his wife groaned as her husband slumped into bed, pulling the covers off her.
"Did she have a good time?" Tammie, his wife of almost 20 years asked sleepily.
"I think so. She had changed and was asleep on the sofa before I got to talk to her though." He rolled over and stroked Tammie's face, pushing his groin into her bottom.
"Not now, Chris. I've got to be up in four hours." Tammie could feel his erection prodding her behind. On a normal day she would have turned over and relieved him but tonight she needed sleep, it was already 2:30am and she had an early flight. With a groan, made entirely for her benefit, Chris rolled onto his back.
Reede woke up the next morning with what could only be termed an 'epic hangover.' She glanced at her clock; it was already midday. Pulling herself out of bed she stripped herself naked and put on a robe, before opening the curtains. It was hammering down, the sky was grey for as far as the eye could see which meant a day holed up in her house. 'Fucking weather,' she thought to herself as she pulled her bedroom door open. She stepped on something as she moved into the hallway and looked down, to find a pair of her panties on the floor. She bent over to pick them up and wondered just how drunk she must have been when she got in -- she hadn't even been wearing those last night, and must have tipped the wash basket over or something.
Chris heard his daughter coming down the stairs, and prayed silently to himself that she had changed. Fortunately for him Reede was in her dressing gown, a big white robe that looked big enough for someone three times her size.
"Hi Daddy" she croaked, her voice obviously still hadn't recovered from last night. Chris took a deep breath and tried to push all memories of last night to the back of his mind.
"Morning sweetheart," he tried to sound as cheerful as possible. "Did you have a good time last night?"
"I think so, if this hangover's anything to go by." Reede poured a glass of water and popped a couple of paracetamol. "Has mum left already?"
"Yeah, she said to tell you she loves you."
Reede sat down at the table. The top of her robe fell open slightly as she propped her head up with her hand. Chris' eyes were fixed on the cleavage on show, his cock twinged and he quickly turned away.
"Have you got any plans later?" he asked, trying to keep things normal.
"Nope, nothing. Can't do anything in this weather, so it's just you and me."
Chris said nothing. He fiddled with some of the undone washing up.