Even In The Best Families Ch 02

For new readers, I would recommend a perusal of Part 1 to discover how young Shelley came to find herself in the midst of this impassioned and ultra-volatile, one could say wholly dysfunctional - family get-together.

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Greg pivoted on his knees, having little idea how to respond to his daughter's question with any diplomacy. Too late, he realised that his fully exposed and throbbing erection was something in the way of visual overload for a naïve if not virginal eighteen-year old. He noticed her mortified glance downwards.

"Ohhh God - sorry, Shelley," he muttered, stumbling over the words as he attempted to shield his daughter from a sight that might well have taken her down the same road as Medusa's head, had not he partially covered the offending item with his hands.

Behind him, Tracey made no attempt to sit-up, merely using her palms to shield her exposed genitals from her daughter. Not that Shelley was looking, given the biological viewing options on offer fully up close and personal as they were at that moment.

His daughter he noted, had in the interim, slipped her panties back on and was seated up against the headboard now, hunched rather prettily across her knees. That he had unfinished business with that wonderfully hot and sexy little body was without question.

"Well it's like this Shell," he continued, "Your mom has needs too you know. You should maybe go back to your own bedroom sweetheart, I just forgot you were here......in the heat of the moment and all."

She looked almost hurt.

"Can't I stay dad? I'd really like to see you and mom.....you know!" This time the blush was quite pronounced.

"Sure you can honey," Tracey put in. "You might learn something from your father, you never know." As she spoke, she retracted her hands and Shelley's eyes dropped to her mother's exposed and even from her perspective - arousingly prominent pussy, framed as it was by that neatly-trimmed light brown triangle of pubic hair. Her own hirsute condition down there she realised, was still one of incomplete growth, not yet in substantial need of a razor. Fully mesmerised by her mother's sexual vulnerability, she abstractedly dropped a hand to her lap. Simply the intimate palmed contact by way of the front of her panties, inspired a thrill of anticipation through her body.

If his wife was hot, Greg was hotter. The thought of his near-naked eighteen-year old daughter perched just an outstretched hand away watching, as he engaged nature's procreative gears along his wife's vaginal highway, was the turn-on of all turn-ons.

Certainly Tracey didn't view the general lack of privacy as any great hindrance. Sprawled inelegantly on her back, her most personal of bodily orifices spectacularly displayed for everyone's viewing pleasure, the glance she threw her daughter as Greg penetrated her with a zeal hitherto unseen, ran the gamut of emotions from unhinged sexual delight to assured female one-upmanship. Hearing her mother cry out "Fuck me Greg" as she allowed her knees to be spread to the zenith of their muscular limits, set in train Shelley's own pleasures. With one hand down well inside her own panties, she began fingering the moist and humid terrain, her pupils fully dilated by the parental activity being enacted right before her eyes.

'"Good girl, fuck yourself honey," Tracey gasped as Greg moved up a gear, fully cognizant of the fact that this would probably be the cum-of-the-century. Thrusting-in to his wife with commendable purpose, he pushed aside her thin top, completely exposing her full but still rather delicately shaped breasts. He heard his daughter's sharp intake of breath as she witnessed her mom's denuding. Just the sight of Tracey's breasts jiggling in metronomic time to the pile-driving exploratories of her husband's drill-bit, caused the teenager to subconsciously reach up with her free hand and manipulate her own engorged nipples.

Groping his wife's breasts as he turned into the main straight, Greg glanced momentarily at his daughter.

"Look at her Trace," he muttered breathlessly, "playing with her own tits now." The girl blushed and dropped her hand to her lap.

"No, don't stop doing it sweetheart," he begged. "That's really sexy....make yourself hot, while I finish fucking your mom."

Embarrassed at being caught-out, she gingerly returned her hand to her right breast and took not a little delight at seeing the effect her wayward fingers were having on both her parents. Together with the selfless digital progress between her own legs, it was all good news!

Traditionally, the biggest firework is always saved till last. So it was on the Richardson's King-size that night. Unhampered by diplomatic niceties and in the final throes now of sexual passion, Tracey arched her back visibly, willing her partner to penetrate the last vestiges of the crust to set free the magma beneath.

Her mouth dry, one of the few body cavities thus afflicted, Shelley could not wrench her gaze from her mother's awesomely public defilement.

"God Trace," Greg uttered as he ploughed the last furrow, unleashing a veritable torrent of procreative material to all four points of her vaginal compass. So caught-up was Shelley in her own self-induced pleasures, all she could do was stare as her father withdrew from the depths of her old home, simply to squat on the bed fully unable to vocalise his thoughts. Tracey for her part, just lay-back staring at her daughter, breathing hard and with both hands clasped between her legs protectively.

It would definitely have been an inopportune moment for the Avon Lady.

"Gosh dad," Shelley unintentionally broke the silence. "They never taught us anything like that in Biology." She tried to smile, but somehow it just didn't seem appropriate. Leaning forward, she retrieved her bra from the end of the bed.

"Don't get dressed Shell.....well not yet anyway," Greg managed to enunciate between some majorly irregular breathing exertions. She looked at him in vague curiosity. "Well, what I mean is Shelley," he added, "Its not that late and you don't have school tomorrow anyway, why not just stay up with us for a bit sweetheart?"

"Can I just put my bra back on then dad?" she implored.

"Sure baby," he replied, book-marking his intent to enjoy to the full, its subsequent removal once more - hopefully in the not too distant future. "Just come and sit with your mom for a while," he added.

Delicately hooking the front-loading clasps together, she smiled nervously at her father who could not fail to notice how much more pronounced her breasts looked, encased in that flimsy but brilliantly engineered little support capsule. He would be pushing octogenarian status he figured, before he would ever be needing Viagra in commercial quantities.

Snuggling up to her mother, she seemed unconcerned that Tracey was still without her panties, although as she lay back against her mom, quite obviously from the tiny gasp of surprise she let out, fully aware of two adult breasts or more likely, the pair of hard nipples, that suddenly were pressing up against her back.

For a couple of moments, no-one knew quite how to proceed.

"Well, did you enjoy watching me with your mom Shell?" Greg asked, hoping to break the ice somewhat.

"Uh huh," Shelley half-mumbled, not keen or even able to elaborate further at this point.

"I guess it must have been a little confronting for you sweetie. Gotta tell you though Shell, just knowing you were here watching, turned me on big time. I think your mom would agree."

"Greg," she cried out, hugging her daughter to her, "That's cruel, besides it wasn't my idea to get naughty with Shelley, c'mon, admit it."

"Wasn't your idea she should leave either, as I recall," he reasoned.

"Seriously Shelley," he continued, looking directly into those light-blue orbs, "Did you like what we did earlier? You, mom and me all together I mean!"

Severely embarrassed, she just managed a confirmatory nod of her head. How cute were those light brown curls jiggling around her shoulders? He thought to himself.

"Would you like me to show you some other stuff Shell?" he asked, but seeing her wide-eyed expression of trepidation, felt constrained to add, "No...nothing like that sweetheart...just other things that will make you feel nice?"

"You got my attention here Greg," Tracey put in teasingly. Shelley tossed her mother a withering backward glance.

"What kinda things dad?" she asked softly.

"Oh, well that's for me to show you honey - if your game! "Sliding back across to his side of the bed, he lay full length on the coverlet, his erection temporarily at least, under manual control.

"Come on over here baby, sit on daddy." He patted his chest.

Looking anything but comfortable, she manoeuvered herself from her mother's lap and sat herself down side-saddle, on the edge of her father's top pyjamas.

"Not that way sweetheart," he chided her, "legs either side of me." Even now, contact with her warm little bottom like that, was causing the cavalry to re-group.

"But that's not very ladylike dad," she cooed, a hint of understanding now on site.

"Who said it is?" he laughed and pulling her suddenly off balance, swung his daughter around at the hips until she straddled him mid-abdomen.

"Dad!!" she cried, hastily dropping her hands between her legs as a reasonably effective means of protecting some of her more interesting body parts. Her brave attempts at modesty however came to nought, chiefly on account of the fact that holding her hands down like that, merely accentuated the contents of her bra, which she noticed soon enough, was more than holding her father's attention.

"Yummy," was all he said, in response to his daughter's then vain attempt to cover up her blossoming cleavage with one hand.

"Come on Shell," he laughed, we've both seen you with your hand down your panties enjoying yourself....just let yourself go baby."

Encircling her curvy little rear-end with both hands, he suddenly yanked her forward until she was sitting astride him at thoracic level. Seizing both wrists, and tugging her hands aside before she could initiate some counter-move, he leaned forward and kissed her flush on the pussy. Her subsequent (token) resistance, by way of wriggling her hips right at the point of contact, merely served as a catalyst.

"Oooh dad," she giggled, definitely coming to favorable terms with her confinement, "You shouldn't be doing that...."

"Might need some help here Trace," he called across to his wife who had taken a majorly positive interest in proceedings. She crawled over. Simply glancing down between his daughter's legs conveyed the requisite message and Tracey nodded.

Shelley could only stare with bemused embarrassment as her mother leaned across and taking hold of her panties at their thinnest and most vulnerable spot, held them to one side, fully exposing her virginal slit to both parents.

Ignoring in full his daughter's understandable protestations, Greg took in the awesomely hot scenario. He liked what he saw. So much in fact, that he took several seconds before inclining his head to kiss those wonderfully moist lips, which as yet were not overshadowed by an abundancy of light brown pubic curls.

The intoxicating smell of her sex - a combination of young womanhood and teenage tease, had him close to passing-out with testosteronic overload. The fact that his semi-naked wife was instrumental in the girl's lewd exposure was no hardship to be endured either. It was he figured, time to up the ante.

His eyes riveted on his daughter's moist and obviously swollen labia, he lowered his face to the killing fields and licked her ingress from top to bottom (as it were). The effect on Shelley was dynamic. Squirming with pleasure, even Tracey was stunned to see her daughter thrusting her hips forward like a practised veteran of the bedroom....and was not that a moan of regal proportions issuing from those young lips?

Not waiting for the video-ref, Greg lapped once again at his daughter's now fully lubricated vulva. Shelley made a sound, half-sob, half sigh, but any way you interpret it...committed female on heat! Her eyes closed now, she ground her hips against her father's face as he continued licking her with a passion. She barely noticed his hands straying to her top, where his fingers slipped up beneath her bra and began fondling those red-hot mounds.

Completely given over to the pleasures being heaped upon her, Shelley moaned with renewed integrity.

With Greg's erection now a virtual hand-rail, were she to have discovered it, and her mother's spare hand down in the engine room, conjuring up her own magic, it was sexual anarchy in the Richardson's bedroom.

"Don't stop dad," she pleaded between the escalating waves of gratification. She would have added a "please" to that, but the house of cards caved in right that second and with the added bonus of having her nipples pulled and squeezed methodically, she collapsed on her father with a uniquely expressive "Oh God!!!!"

It was let us say, a relatively simple task, given their daughter's weakened state, to lay her back on the covers and tug her panties down and off. Whilst Tracey busied herself in that enjoyable pursuit, Greg relieved her of that frilly little bra once more so that she lay their panting now, fully naked and accessible.

He positioned himself swiftly between his daughters slim legs. "Proceeding with caution" was assuredly not the modus operendi he had in mind.

"You're not going to fuck me dad are you?" she asked, seemingly not fully clued-up as to the overall mood of the situation. "I could get pregnant," she cried out in a panic.

Those four words alone, hyped the moment for Greg. The thought of getting his own daughter pregnant was like pouring fuel oil on a barbecue. Nothing could be sexier, besides, he knew they could take her to the drug-store in the morning and get her a "morning after" pill. How hot would that be even? "Excuse me madam, I just need a couple of tablets for my daughter here. Fucked her once too often last night and the little bitch could be knocked-up!"

With Tracey on her knees beside her daughter, idly fondling her breasts as she waited breathlessly to see what probably many mothers if they were even half honest, would give their husband's American Express Gold card, to see - that, being to watch their teenage daughter fucked senseless.

Relaxation Greg new, was the key to deflowering his daughter as painlessly as possible. Thus his insistent "Suck her tits Trace" wasn't wholly without logic. At the point she began to suckle the girl either side, Greg recommenced his therapeutic treatment of her lower extremities - rubbing his erection the full length of Shelley's hot little pussy, making sure her pronounced clitoral hood was a focal point of the applied friction.

Wriggling and moaning as she now was, he slipped the head of his penis right at the gates of damnation. Able to penetrate but a centimeter or so, his daughter's hymen was not about to give up its jurisdiction without a fight. The moans changed subtly to cries of anguish. "That's hurting daddy," she managed, though certainly not making any move to extricate herself from the situation.

He knew there was no easy way and much like cutting off your own figure to appease your Triad boss, best you do it quickly!

He indicated to his wife to suckle her harder while for his part, he inserted a finger inside Shelley's pussy and instigated a rhythm she found much to her liking. With her moans now escalating and her hips in fluid motion, he once again lined up his penile interceptor, and simply pushed into her with the backing of his one-seventy-five pound body weight.

It wasn't pretty. Her scream of pain would have woken the cat downstairs and the blood was indeed red. Nor were her eyes any longer shut! For all that however, she wasn't resisting the thick shaft now invading her vaginal cavity with a passion, pistoning into her as he spread her legs wider at the knees.

"Let dad fuck you hard honey, the pain will very quickly subside" Tracey implored her daughter, flushed herself with waves of ecstasy as she watched her husband's cock penetrating the teenager's pussy up to the hilt.

"A red mist before her eyes and with still a few tears running down her cheeks, Shelley crossed-over. Indeed, the pain was short-lived and as her father drew strength from his daughter's ability to stay with it, she wanted only for this incredible feeling to continue. Her hips, seemingly disabled by the initial agony, rediscovered their collaborative ways and she began thrusting upwards to meet his rapid incursions.

"I love you Shell," he stammered, nearing the final countdown, his whole being consumed with need and yes, lust, for the beautiful young temptress with whom he was so incestously copulating.

"Fuck me daddy," was all she needed to whisper and he was lost for all money. She could merely gasp as he spurted wave after wave of his residual cum as far up inside her as he was able. She felt it all and in that moment, wanted everything he had to give her. The laws of society for both of them right then, a distant irrelevance.

Tracey had come herself. How could you not, watching events such as these unfolding?

Observing Greg extricate his limp member from the confines of so outrageous a location, she simply was unsure of how she felt. This wasn't Shelley's dilemma however, she knew exactly how she felt and if her father thought this was simply a one-off occurrence - he was going to be majorly disappointed.

He was also going to be excessively busy over the weekend.