My Iny Daddy

I probably hadn't thought this through well enough.

Aunt Jane had invited me into her shower, to 'wash my hair', she said. Now that I knew she was bisexual, I found I was both intrigued and curious about her offer. Yes, I'd be naked in there with her, but, so what? I'd taken showers with girls in the locker room at school and at the pool, so just the fact that we were showering together didn't necessarily mean it was sexual. Was she just trying to be nice and wash my hair for me, or, did she have something else in mind? There was a part of me that hoped she was just as intrigued as I was.

Initially, I threw caution to the wind and decided to take her up on her offer. I knew this could very well send her a message that I was open to contact between us, and if it happened, I'd be more than happy to go along with it. I even walked back to her master bathroom and raised my hand to knock on the door, but, at the last minute, I chickened out and quietly tip toed away.

So, I ended up taking my shower in the hall bathroom, cussing to myself for missing an opportunity I now wished I'd taken. As I undressed, though, I decided to leave the bathroom door ajar as a signal to her that she could enter..... perhaps even peek in at me if she wanted to see me naked. Of course, nothing like that happened.

I admit I was captivated and interested about her bisexuality. Aunt Jane openly admitted she had sex with my mother, as well as with Daddy. From the way she told it, she had sex with both of them alone, as well as together. And, I believed her after seeing the pictures in the box and seeing the video tape from one of their parties.

By now, the shock of learning Daddy and Aunt Jane had been having incestuous sex had long passed. It was clear to me they were lovers because they loved each other in a most profound way. They were twins - conceived at the same moment and sharing the same womb before they were born. Throughout most of their lives, they were never much more than an arm's reach apart -- either emotionally or physically. They were inseparable and each other's best friend. So, why would I be surprised that my father had been having sex with his sister. In a way, it seemed completely natural and expected..... the epitome of pure and unselfish love.

I think what really convinced me, though, was seeing the expression on Aunt Jane's face, her body language and hearing the sincerity in her voice when she told me about my father's visit to her next month. I firmly believe what she said was true -- in the week he would be there, she was going to do everything in her power to make him the happiest man on the planet. And, honestly, I thought that was a good thing because I know Daddy still misses my Mom, and I knew he probably needed some attention as a man.

An hour later, we were sitting in the nearly deserted restaurant having our dinner. After a few minutes, I gathered up the courage to ask Aunt Jane some questions about Daddy's upcoming visit. I had thought my questions out carefully and when I brought it up, she was more than willing to discuss it with me.

"So," I began, "Is it okay to ask you about that visit Daddy is going to make next month?"

"Of course, Emma." She answered. "I'm glad you brought it up. I was going to say something if you didn't. Go ahead and ask me anything you like."

"Well," I continued, "I guess I'm wondering what you meant when you suggested I join you while he's here. Does that mean join you to watch, or, join you to take part sexually?"

"I'm not suggesting you do anything you're uncomfortable with, Sweetheart." Aunt Jane replied. "But, after watching you masturbate on the floor in the guest room while you stared at naked pictures of your father, I just assumed you might consider taking part in everything...... from start to finish."

"Emma," she said, setting her wine glass down and looking directly at me, "we're both adults here and I'm not going to repeat our conversation to anyone, and that includes your father. So, don't beat around the bush. Ask your questions and we'll see where we get."

"Are you hung up on the incest thing?" She asked, after a short pause. "Is that it? Because if you are, maybe it'll help if you knew your Mom was perfectly okay with your father and I being together. And in case you were wondering, we took measures to make sure I never got pregnant."

Aunt Jane volunteered the fact that she and Daddy had done just about everything a man and woman could do sexually, and all of it in the presence of my mother. There wasn't anything they avoided -- they did it all...... oral, anal, straight, fetish..... all of it.

"I loved him, Emma, and I still do." She said, with a serious expression on her face. "There's nothing I would deny him."

"But, what about me and him together?" I asked emphatically. "He's been having sex with you since you two were teenagers..... even before he met Mom. I can understand how Mom could easily accept you guys doing it. But, what would he say, or what would my Mom say about me having sex with my own father? Would Mom be okay with me and Daddy together? Would he be okay with it?"

"I simply don't know about your father would feel about it, I'll be honest about that." She replied. "But, your mother would be fine with it, Emma. I know she would because we talked about it."

"You talked about me and Daddy having sex?" I asked quietly.

"Well, sort of." She said. Then she recounted a conversation she had with Mom one day when they were alone in bed. Aunt Jane told me they were discussing Daddy's skill in the bedroom and Mom said she'd much rather I learn about sex from Daddy than from some nit wit teenager who had no clue how to really satisfy a woman.

"I admit," Aunt Jane explained, "we never discussed the other part of this, your father's fetishes...... his desires to be a Sissy, to be dressed up like a little girl, to be submissive, exposed, spanked and humiliated. We were only talking about your father's sexual prowess and how well he could please a woman."

"And as far as that goes, your father is absolutely the best in the bedroom." She said, smiling over at me. "I can guarantee, without a shadow of a doubt, that you would come away knowing you'd had the best sex humanly possible. And, I'm not just saying that. You'll be multi-orgasmic with him and you'll never want him to pull his cock out of you, Emma. Believe me."

"The fetish part," she said as she sighed, "I'm just not sure how he'd take it. He's always been very private about that stuff. Your mother and I both knew he was ashamed of his desires, and we were always sensitive and careful about it. I'm not kidding when I say he's a completely different man once he gives up control."

"Of course," she added, "we knew we had to warm him up when we started each time, but, after that, he was perfectly happy and never had any regrets."

"What does that mean? You had to warm him up?" I asked.

"Well," she replied, leaning over to the table to me, "that was just our name for it. It was a routine for us that we worked out over the years...... and we did it the same way each time we got together."

Aunt Jane told me not to be shocked at what she was going to say, and then she told me what 'warming him up' meant.

Apparently, as soon as they arrived at her house, and I mean as soon as the front door closed behind them, Daddy was immediately stripped and dressed in just a very feminine looking bra. Then, he was led by the hand to her living room where he was milked.

"Just to take the edge off." Aunt Jane explained. "Plus, it was quite a humbling event for him to have to endure, and it prepared him mentally for what came next."

After the milking, he was carefully spanked until he cried and then Mom or Aunt Jane, or both, would take his cute butt with a strap-on. By that time, he was completely broken and extremely compliant.

When that was done, he was taken into the bathroom and given a splendid and extended bath by the two of them. His legs were shaved, his pubic hair was removed and he was dressed up in his little girl clothes. After that, Daddy was completely ready and they could spend days together, happily role playing and making love with each other.

I sat there with my jaw open as she told me this.

"Emma," she explained, "we did all those things in the span of a couple of hours. We would go from one thing directly to the next -- the same way each and every time we were together. It was a ritual for us and something he wanted us to do, and, he loved it."

She told me they'd discussed it, all three of them, many times and made small adjustments through the years. Daddy said he needed it to be sudden and firm to make him give in. Sometimes, when they saw each other, Mom and Aunt Jane would act like they weren't going to do it - teasing him into thinking they just forgot or were to busy to warm him up. He'd start to complain after a while and he'd literally beg them to do it.

"You milked him?" I asked. "As in..... you put your fingers in his butt, and, uh.... rubbed his thing in there."

"His prostate gland." Aunt Jane answered. "Yes, we did. And we'd make him eat his cum after we milked him, too. One of us, your Mom or me, would catch his cum in our hands and he'd have to lick it clean before we let him up."

"Jeez, how humiliating." I sighed.

"Exactly." Aunt Jane replied. "And, that's precisely the point, Emma. He wanted to experience a level of humiliation that would break him down so he could be free to enjoy everything else we did. He had to give up control to us, Sweetheart. He knew that, and once he did, he was a completely changed man."

"Then, we'd spank him with the paddle until he broke down and had his little cry." Aunt Jane continued. "That thing stings like hell, but, we never over did it and in all the times we spanked him, the most he ever suffered was his broken pride and two pink butt cheeks."

"When all that was over," Aunt Jane added, "we'd give him a nice, very tender time with the strap-on. He'd get a lot of kissing and cuddling, and we'd tell him what a good boy he was. And for him," she told me, "the strap-on was a reward -- an acknowledgement that he'd given up control to us and we'd taken it."

When they were done warming him up, Aunt Jane told me in detail how they'd smother him with kisses and lead him into the bathroom and put him in a relaxing, hot bath. Aunt Jane explained how they babied him and pampered him in the bath -- going to extreme measures to attend to his every need and making sure that one of them was touching his body at all times.

They talked with him gently and softly while they methodically shaved his legs, his underarms and his pubic hair. They wrapped a huge fluffy towel around him while they drained the bathtub and refilled it with clean water, adding some bath oils to reinforce his pampering.

When his bath was over, they'd put lotion on him and dress him up in some of his favorite play clothes and after that - he'd spend the rest of their time together with a smile on his face and a never ending erection. They would make love for hours, pleasuring each other unselfishly and completely until they had to stop to eat or sleep, and this cycle continued until it was time for Mom and Daddy to come home.

"Don't think for one minute we ever did anything to him he didn't want, Emma." She said, softly. "And I promise you, your Mother and I made sure we did exactly what he wanted us to do, and each time, he was grateful for setting him free to be himself."

"If I had to guess, though" she finally added, "he might be initially hesitant with you there. But, if we follow the same routine to warm him up, and if you were to do the things your mother would have done, I'm absolutely confident he'd cooperate. In fact, having you there would serve to heighten his humiliation, and that would be a good thing for him, I'm certain of that."

"I'd be there to help you through it, Sweetheart." Aunt Jane assured me. "I wouldn't have suggested it if I thought it was the wrong thing to do."

I thought about it for a few minutes as we ate our dinner. "Well," I asked, "what about you and me? Didn't you say the three of you made love together? I've never done anything like that before."

"Alright, that's a fair enough question." She answered. "But, you're not a virgin, are you? You've had sex with a man before, right?"

"Aunt Jane," I replied, "I lost it in high school, and I've had a few boyfriends, so, yeah, I've been with a few guys."

"Okay then," she said, "then that part you already know how to do and what to expect."

"And, I take it you've never been with a woman?" She asked, looking up at me over her wine glass.

"No." I said, softly. "Never."

"Well, I guess that's something we'd have to practice and rehearse ahead of time." She said, with a small grin on her face. "Don't you agree?"

Aunt Jane seemed to take some pleasure in explaining to me that Daddy enjoyed seeing Mom and her together. "We'd always have to watch him, though." She said, giggling. "He'd end up yanking himself while he watched us and that would ruin him for a couple of hours."

"Most times," she added, "we'd let him sit in a chair next to the bed and watch us. If he started masturbating, we'd find some way to distract him or get him up on the bed with us. He loved watching us up close and we had a rule that he couldn't masturbate if he was on the bed with your Mom and I."

"I have to ask this now, Emma." Aunt Jane said, as she took another sip of her wine. "Do you think that is something you could do? Be sexual with me for your father's sake, or for your own sake?"

I took a deep breath when I heard her ask me that, but as I blushed and looked over at her, I answered, saying, "I almost took you up on your offer to take a shower with you tonight. I even went to your bathroom door and was about to knock on the door, but, I...... uh...."

Aunt Jane reached out across the table and put her hand on mine. "It's natural to be afraid of something you've never done, Emma."

"But, I wanted to do it." I replied. "I just didn't know how to say it, or what you might think."

"Sweetheart," she said, softly, "would you let me show you how beautiful it can be between two women tonight?"

"You don't have to do anything back if you don't want to." She added. "Just let me show you how good and natural it can feel. And, if it's uncomfortable for you, I'll be able to tell and we can just stop -- no harm done. How's that?"

I told Aunt Jane it wasn't a matter of me being uncomfortable as much as it was just not knowing what to do. "Don't worry about that." She said, smiling over at me. "You'll see. It'll be the most natural thing you've ever done. You won't even have to think about what to do."

We talked for a few more minutes and she put my fears to rest. I heard that same tenderness in her voice she used when she talked about Daddy and how much she loved him and how he needed to be pleasured. My panties had grown wet while we talked, not just because of the way she described what she and Mom usually did to Daddy to warm him up, but also because I knew she was going to be touching me and making love to me like she used to do with my mother.

"Come on." She finally said. "Let's get out of here so I can prove what I said is true."

On the way home, she asked me if I'd made a decision on coming to visit when Daddy came. I told her I wanted to, but, I was still unsure.

"Emma, with your mother gone," she said as we pulled up in her driveway, "your father only has the two of us now. I'll do everything on my own if I need to, but, I can't think of a better gift for you to give your father than yourself."

We sat there in her car for a minute as that thought sunk into my head and then she simply patted my knee and opened her car door. As I followed her inside the house, she gave me a smile and took my hand and led me up the stairs toward her room.

When we got there, she turned to me and put her hands on my face and pushed my hair back over my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "You're just as beautiful as your mother was." She whispered, as she leaned in and kissed me ever so softly on the lips. I closed my eyes as our lips met and my heart started to flutter as I smelled her perfume and felt her take a step closer to me.

The kiss was gentle and soft, not like a man's kiss. And I felt her breasts brush against mine as we stood together. I was having my first kiss with another woman and as it lingered, my emotions swelled up inside of me and I began to want more.

As our kiss ended, she pulled back and we looked at each other -- our eyes fluttering back and both as we gazed into each other's eyes. Then, without thinking, I leaned in to her and kissed her back, raising my arms as if I was going to wrap them around her neck and embrace her. But, when I did, her hands met mine in mid air and she intertwined her fingers with mine and held them to my body.

This kiss was longer and better, and, before long I opened my mouth with a desire to kiss her deeply. She opened her mouth, too, and in a matter of seconds, our tongues were searching for the other's and we were in a full blown embrace. I was breathing hard, almost panting when the kiss ended. And, seeing she was too, I reached behind me to the buttons at the back of my chemise top and started undoing them.

"Here," she whispered, "let me do that for you."

I turned around and let her unbutton me, and a few seconds later I felt her gently pull my top out of my skirt and begin to lift it over my head. Her touch was so soft and gentle, I got goose bumps on my skin as I felt her carefully lift my top over my head taking great care not to mess up my hair. As I turned around to face her, her hands went to the buttons on the front of her blouse and as she undid the top button, I raised my hands and put them on top of hers and gently pushed them aside.

She gave me a little smile as I unbuttoned her all the way down and then pushed her blouse off her shoulders and dropped it on the floor.

Her large breasts were encased in a lacy bra and I stood there for a few moments looking down at them and then back up to her eyes. "It's okay." She whispered. "You can touch them."

As soon as the words left her mouth, I raised both my hands and placed them to the sides of her breasts and moved them under to feel the weight of her flesh in my hands. This was such an unusual feeling for me, having never touched another woman in my life. I mean, mine own breasts were so small, they literally had no weight to them at all. But, Aunt Jane had much larger breasts, and they had some weight to them. And while my bras were light, dainty things, her bra was much more substantial and sturdy.

Seeing that her bra had a front closure, I reached forward and grasped the sides of the clasp and unfastened it. All at once, her breasts spilled out in front of me and as she wiggled it off her shoulders and let it fall to the carpet, I gazed at her, wondering how her nipples would feel in my mouth.

But, my dream was interrupted when she reached up to my chest and placed her hands on my lightweight bra. I felt embarrassed for a few seconds as she felt me through my bra, rubbing my nipples with one of her fingers. I had nothing compared to her, and I knew I was going to be ashamed when my bra came off and she saw my tiny, pink nipples.

"You're about the same size up top as your mother was." She said, softly. "I always loved that about her," Aunt Jane sighed, "she was so petite and she looked so cute when her nipples got hard."

As she spoke, she reached around me and unhooked the strap. Then, in one motion, she pulled my bra away from my body and leaned down to kiss my nipples. My legs almost collapsed out from under me when I felt her lips on my bare flesh. She reached up and cradled one of my breasts in her hands and licked around the nipple and then began sucking it.