[Author's note: I want to extend a lot of gratitude for and happiness about everyone who liked my last story. Thank you for the comments and feedback, I really appreciate them. Feel free to leave suggestions for the next chapter -- can't promise I'll implement all of them, but it was feedback from my first chapter that inspired some of the themes for this one. So thank you, as well, to those that left sexy and wonderful suggestions. :-)]
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To say I tossed and turned that night would be an understatement. I was wracked with guilt laying there next to Vicky -- I'm sure now that guilt from indulgence is the most shameful guilt there is. I tried to act normal, to not think about the fact that I had committed real incest a mere few hours before, but who could possibly act normal in that context? It was a twofer -- I'd cheated on my wife, with the most fucked up possible mistress.
After Maddy and I had cleaned ourselves and our surroundings, the act hung in the air like the heaviest cloud. Even she, the instigator, looked a little shell-shocked when I caught her eye. Not as shell-shocked as me, the weak-willed and obsessed enabler. She shyly reminded me that she was in fact on the pill, and I nodded with relief at a thought I hadn't even had the mental presence to worry about yet.
I mumbled something about needing to cook dinner, she mumbled something about university coursework, and we moved to our ends of the house with the weight of our sex looming over each of us.
The next morning, to my confusing mix of disappointment and relief, Maddy had dressed more reasonably. Her hair was tucked behind her ears -- she used to hate how she looked with her hair behind her ears, and it made me a little warm to see her wearing it like that now. The crop of her shirt sat right about her midriff, and while her shorts were still very short, they seemed prudish compared to yesterday's outfit.
Her more usual state of dress made me sit with the strange feeling of certainty that Maddy had definitely been dressed like that specifically for me yesterday. Of course, I ran circles in my mind the night before, convincing myself I had been so perverse that I hadn't acknowledged the blame wasn't muddy, it was entirely on me.
I rubbed my hand back and forth across my brow. Vicky was sitting at the table, and even if she weren't I still wouldn't know what to say to Maddy. I looked back to Maddy and gave an even good morning, which she returned as evenly. And with our attempt at a casual greeting, I felt us acknowledge an official unspoken agreement to keep the secret - as if we had any other choice.
Maddy opted to walk to campus that day, but asked that I pick her up from the campus bus stop at the end of the day. I tried not to get in my head about the fact that she didn't want me to drive her to college, and then felt stupid for even thinking about it. I looked over at Vicky -- she had her hand resting near her cup of coffee and was looking at her watch on her other. I put my hand over hers, and she smiled when she looked at me.
Vicky's beautiful, and she's always been beautiful. Maddy got so much from her -- her dark eyes, the line of the bridge of her nose, the same specific shade of brown skin. Their bodies were the same. I remember the moment when I realized I now knew, intimately, the similarities between their bodies. The curve and size of their breasts were the perfect same -- Maddy's tits in my mouth felt so familiar, and it had turned me on.
I leaned forward and gave Vicky a kiss, and the knot in my stomach tightened.
"What time you reckon you'll be home tonight?" I asked, while I gathered my things to leave for work.
"Ugh, don't even get me started, Dan. Late again. Client's dead-set on being a headache," Vicky muttered and rolled her neck in a circle to click it. When she gets tense she always feels it in her neck first. I gave her another kiss on the cheek and wished her luck with her long work day.
Normalcy with Vicky had, for a moment, stopped my mind's constant whirling about Maddy. But on the way to work I lost control again, and my memory of last night was replayed another time. The way she tasted, the way her pussy felt impossibly soft and wet, the way her ass felt under my hands when I'd gripped her to fuck her deeply. The way she'd gotten tighter around me when she came, and the paralysis I felt when she pulled all my cum and my soul into her.
By the time I'd arrived at my office building's dark parking lot, I was rock hard. I leaned my head back against the headrest. There were no cars around in my corner of the lot. Some kind of alleviation needed to happen; I couldn't possibly be met by my co-workers like this.
The guilt and shame of my arousal made it feel like I was shooting up in my car. I unzipped my slacks and felt relief to not have my erection trapped and straining anymore. As I sat there, on red-alert while desperately and humiliatingly pumping my cock, I fantasised.
Maddy had said she wanted to keep it 'our little secret' if I wanted to. So, she must want to fuck again. I thought about how she and I being in my car later would be the first time we'd have been alone together since last night. I thought about us keeping up pretences for a few minutes, and I thought about her dropping the pleasantries and running her hand up my thigh to unzip me. Her hands were slender, and she had such delicate fingers. The memory of the way her hands felt made a chill run through my body.
I thought about her soft lips kissing the head of my cock. I thought about her running her tongue along my frenulum while milking me, slow enough for my jaw to go a little slack. I fucked myself faster, and thought about how it would feel to have her close her wet mouth around my cock for the first time and suck, how she'd probably run her tongue along my shaft at the same time. I thought about gripping her hair and thrusting my hips up to fuck her throat with one of my hands on the steering wheel.
The thought of Maddy's hand cupping my balls was enough to send me over. My body tensed and I came into my hand like a depraved teenager. I wiped my hand on a napkin I found in the glove box and resigned myself do a second workday spent thinking about her until I picked her up.
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Sure enough, when I picked her up that afternoon we exchanged normal pleasantries about our days, the topic being silently broached just by virtue of us being alone. Road construction on our route home meant snail's pace traffic, and further tension for us to sit in. Finally, I addressed it.
"Mads, we have to talk about what happened yesterday."
A small smile touched her face, and she said, "We should. How are you feeling about it, Dad?"
"I..." I collected a coherent thought to offer. "I'm feeling confused about it. Honestly, I'm scared." I felt relief in finally speaking about it with her instead of with Jiminy Cricket. "It's not the kind of thing we should ever have done. Families get ruined by this."
She paused, giving me the chance to continue if I wanted to. A moment passed.
"But..." I started, despite my best efforts.
Her small smile grew a twitch. I started feeling like my hands were tied.
"But...?" She said, not mockingly, but leadingly.
I exhaled. "I can't stop thinking about it."
"Me neither." There was a finality to her statement.
I looked over at her, and she turned her body towards me, leaning against the passenger door. We both felt the kiss hanging in the hair.
The cars picked up moving, and the invisible string connecting us was snapped.
"I don't think we need to force ourselves to understand it," she continued.
I left the conversation open.
