Daddy Horsecock Ch 01

Note to readers: As with all my other stories, this one starts out slow, but it will blossom with a lot of action as the story develops. It should be read before my related story, "Getting to Know My New Stepdaughter". For all you readers out there, but especially those of you who are voting on stories, please read this and chapter two before you pass judgment, thinking that the story is lacking in sexiness.

*****

When I got engaged to Mary two years ago, I didn't even know she HAD a daughter, much less two of them – twin teenagers who would eventually come live with us and fuck me every day right under their mother's nose.

The first I heard about the girls, Evie and Jenna, was just before our wedding. Mary and I were at a restaurant, eating dinner together and going over last minute details of the reception, when she told me she'd just received word that neither of her daughters were going to be able to attend the wedding.

I almost spit out my iced tea. "Daughters?" I said. "What daughters?"

It turned out Mary had twins from her first marriage. After an amicable divorce several years ago, her ex got a job working for an oil company in Indonesia. The job perks – free housing and free private schooling at an elite English-speaking school for foreigners and diplomats' kids – were so attractive that both mother and father agreed that it was sensible for him to take custody of the girls, then ten years old.

Mary had only seen her daughters a couple of times in the years since then. The problem wasn't that her ex was opposed to visitation or anything like that. It was just that the expense and logistical problems of sending children on multi-stage trans-oceanic flights made visitation difficult verging on impossible. When the time came for our wedding, the girls, then sixteen, said they felt uncomfortable traveling alone halfway around the world, and anyway, they had mid terms or something, I forget what.

Mary didn't talk about her daughters much. When they hit various milestones – their sixteenth birthdays, or when Evie won an academic award – Mary gushed about them, about how dear they were to her, about what perfect, angelic children they were, about how wonderful it was being a mother. But frankly, it seemed to me that motherhood had died on the vine sometime during the nine years that mother and daughters had been apart. I got the impression that, beyond birthdays and Christmas, the girls hardly every contacted her. The girls weren't active on facebook or any other social media, so Mary didn't even have that minimal contact with them.

So you can imagine that I was somewhat less ecstatic than Mary was when we learned that the girls, now nineteen, planned to come back to the US and wanted to live with their mother and me. They'd both been accepted into the local university, and it made sense that to minimize expenses they would live with us rather than have both parents shell out the money for dorms or apartment living.

The plan was that the girls would arrive separately. They attended different secondary schools in Indonesia. Jenna's school term finished in time for her to attend fall semester in the US, but Evie's school term was out of synch by several weeks, meaning that she wouldn't be able to join us until after Thanksgiving.

Regardless of the scheduling problems, Mary was over the moon with happiness that her sweet little daughters were going to live with her again after so many years. I think unconsciously she still thought of them as ten year olds, and when she spoke about them she talked about going to the movies together, buying them sweets, or cooking the girls' favorite meals. She envisioned doing activities with them that were appropriate for small children, not college freshmen coeds.

Somewhere in the house, Mary had up-to-date pictures of Evie and Jenna that the girls dutifully sent her every year, the sort of generic school pictures that parents' drawers are littered with. In the photos, both girls looked perky and well-scrubbed, with Jenna wearing a black dress that contrasted with her naturally blonde hair, and Evie wearing the uniform white blouse and green plaid skirt of the missionary school she attended.

But those modern pictures were stuffed in a drawer somewhere. The picture on our mantle, the one Mary looked at every day, was one of her and the girls taken years earlier, before they had even entered puberty.

***

When Jenna showed up it was even worse than I expected. At the sound of the doorbell, Mary ran to the door and flung it open wide. In her mind's eye, I think she saw a perky, well-scrubbed, slightly larger version of the little blonde ten year old girl she remembered.

I saw something different. When the door opened, I saw a nineteen year old goth girl dressed in a tight-fitting black t-shirt and skin-tight black pants with strategically placed rips at the knees and thighs. Her red lipstick was so dark it was almost black, too. Her blonde hair was dyed jet black. The sneer on her face would have killed a squirrel at ten paces.

"Hello, Mother," she said, her voice dripping with venom. She looked at me and smiled, the sort of smile that Satanically possessed children give in horror movies. "And are you my new Daddy?"

I have to say that, objectively speaking, Jenna was incredibly hot. But to be attracted to her, you would have had to chloroform her to get rid of that sneer. She was more than a head shorter than me, maybe five foot two, and though she was petite she was still incredibly curvy. She had a tight waist and her slightly flared hips made for a perfect hourglass figure.

But most of all, what drew my attention was her tits. Her enormous fucking tits. Mary was a full-busted woman with 36DD tits, but Jenna's breasts made those look ordinary. I later learned that Jenna wore a size 32F, and I can say from personal observation that her tits overflowed even that prodigiously sized bra.

Altogether, Jenna presented an incredible package. Small, slim, and busty with pale white skin, a perfectly round, tight ass that she loved to show off, a wide, expressive mouth, slate grey eyes and sultry dyed black hair that almost made you want to throw her little body on the ground and start humping her. The clothes she wore were so tight that you could see the outline of her camel toe and the nipples poking through her bra and tight t-shirt.

And yet, for all that, she was almost the opposite of attractive. The hostility in her voice when she greeted us was an incredible turn-off. And the sneer that she managed to include when she called me "Daddy" was clearly meant as a deliberate insult.

I looked over at Mary to see her reaction, but it was obvious that my wife had not picked up on the waves of hostility that emanated from her daughter.

Partly, of course, it was that blindness that I've already described. Mary was so joyful at the return of her daughter that she was unable to see anything negative at all.

But there was more to it than that.

Shortly before our marriage, Mary confided in me that the doctors had diagnosed her as suffering from Asperger's Syndrome, something I had never heard of. Apparently it was one of those situations where the doctors had a name and description of the problem, but knew of no cure or way to deal with it. What's the point of diagnosing someone if you can't do anything about it?

People with Asperger's tend to be bad at people skills. They may be great at mechanical problems or math, but they're clueless when it comes to their fellow human beings. In fact, instead of calling it after some guy named Asperger, it would have been better to call it Socially Clueless Disorder. People with Socially Clueless Disorder are the ones who know the name and bio of every character in Star Wars but don't recognize the face of their next door neighbor. They're great company when you need to assemble Ikea furniture, but when they finally get a girl to go out on a date, they bore her to tears with a blow-by-blow description of their latest computer hardware wish list. They're the sort of people who can describe every allergen in a shag carpet, but forget their sister's birthday every single year. They're great at trivia contests. In fact, I first met Mary at a Star Trek trivia contest in a bar (she got first prize, while I came in sixth), but that's another story for another time.

Being married to someone with Socially Clueless Disorder isn't nearly as bad as it sounds. Mary had a naturally sunny, optimistic disposition, and her Socially Clueless-itude meant that she was oblivious to the nuances of unpleasantness that some people exude every day. She always saw the best in people. Sometimes I thought her failure to understand people was ridiculous. But a lot of the time, I envied her inability to see the nastiness that lay just under the surface in so many social interactions. Frankly, I thought to myself, the world would be better off with more Marys and a little less sarcasm, snarkiness and tedious irony.

And speaking of sarcasm, snarkiness and tedious irony, let's get back to Jenna.

I guess Jenna remembered that her mother would be oblivious to a nasty tone of voice or any double entendres. In that first greeting and then afterwards, the words out of Jenna's mouth always sounded objectively neutral or even positive, yet she felt free to spit the words out with all the hostility at her command, because her mother, my wife, was incapable of hearing the nuance in her daughter's voice.

Jesus, I thought to myself. Am I going to have to live with this indefinitely?

That night I took out my frustrations in the bedroom. Mary was always a shy woman, so she was seldom the one to initiate things in bed. She liked gentle lovemaking – none of the rough stuff. But beyond that reticence, she was always willing to give me anything I wanted.

That night I started out gentle. I began by tickling Mary's inner thighs just below her crotch, all the while kissing her lips as lightly as I could. Mary closed her eyes and moaned, drifting with the sensuality. Gradually the kisses became more intense. My tongue invaded her mouth and she moaned even more.

Within moments I moved down to her DD tits. Normally the large size of her breasts was plenty for me, but this night all I could think of was Mary's daughter, Jenna. Jenna's tits were not only bigger than her mother's, they looked even more prominent given that she was shorter by several inches and had a smaller, more petite frame. Jenna's huge tits looked positively enormous on her tiny frame, and as I kissed and licked Mary's big breasts all I could think about was her daughter's even more prodigious hooters.

I scooted down on the bed so that my head was even with Mary's breasts, and began suckling them and nibbling on her nipples. At the same time, one hand drifted down to my wife's crotch and I began thrusting my fingers in and out of her twat, paying special attention to her clit.

"Ooohhh!" Mary moaned. "Suckle my breasts, baby. Drink Mommy's milk." Her words made me wonder whether she, too, was fantasizing about her daughter while I sucked her tits. With my free hand I pinched the nipple of one tit while I continued to nibble the other, all the while fingering the clit in her wet twat.

"Oh God!" Mary gasped, and began to shake all over in orgasm. "Baby, you're making Mommy feel so good!"

I shifted to a missionary position, and before Mary had time to come down from her first orgasm, I thrust my cock without warning straight into her pussy. Mary's eyes shot open at the assault of my hard cock into her wet pussy. She gasped again, and her body went into overdrive humping back against me.

"I'm your new Daddy," I said, echoing Jenna's words when she first greeted me at the door. "Daddy takes what he wants from his girls!"

I began pounding harder and harder. My cock was going so deep that it was banging against Mary's cervix, causing her to cry out in pain with each thrust. "Too deep!" she moaned. Then louder, she cried, "Daddy, you're going too deep!"

I grinned and pounded her even harder. I hoped that her cries were loud enough that Jenna would hear them down the hall.

"No! Please! You're too hard! It's too deep!" Despite the pain, Mary still responded with more cries of ecstasy, coupled with shivering and shaking as another orgasm overpowered her. "Oh, Daddy!" she whimpered. The fact that she was inexplicably calling me Daddy for the first time fed my fantasy of Jenna and made me even hornier.

When I felt myself ready to cum, I quickly pulled out and repositioned myself with my knees on either side of Mary's torso and my cock pointed straight at her mouth. Mary was so overwhelmed by having two orgasms that she was barely aware of what I was doing. Her eyes were shut, and she was in a dream state of sensuality. When she felt me pull out of her pussy, she began whimpering, but then when I changed positions and began rubbing my cock on her lips, her eyes opened in surprise as I forced my cock into her mouth.

Within seconds, I began pumping cum into her wet mouth. Her eyebrows shot up querulously while she gulped and sputtered at the mouthful of sperm. "Drink Daddy's seed like a good girl," I ordered her, stroking her auburn hair. Mary swallowed my cum and licked her lips.

"You missed a spot," I said, using my finger to scoop up dribbled cum from the corner of her mouth. I fed my cummy finger to her mouth and she sucked on it dreamily.