Pissed up and Wreced

Roy Allen and his daughter Sophie liked to get blasted on the last Friday of the month. It was a tradition which had lapsed somewhat due to Roy's job. These sessions usually ended with both of them falling asleep wherever they happened to be sitting, after laughing uproariously for 3 hours, but they hadn't managed to find the time for several months. Tonight, however, they decided they were going to go for it.

They started with whisky Bingo while they watched some useless TV quiz. They took a shot every time a contestant gave an unbelievably stupid answer. Needless to say they were quite well oiled by the time the programme finished.

Then Sophie rolled a joint and jammed it with skunk. As she passed it to her father she said:

"Dad, let's play '83 second story relay.'"

"We haven't played that for years. Good idea. Remind me of the rules?"

"Right, one of us starts a story and after exactly 83 seconds the other takes over. But, and this is important Daddy, they must not change any of the previous information."

Sophie was sat on the sofa while her father took the armchair opposite.

"OK," he said, "I'll go first. Start the timer. Hmmm...

Dennis DeVere was a fabulously wealthy man. When I say wealthy I'm talking tens of billions. He was the CEO of a very important company - probably hedge funds. Nobody knows.

"Well, he must know," said his daughter.

"Yes, he knows, but it's a secret. May I continue?"

She made the yielding gesture.

His daughter, Poppy-

"Poppy DeVere?"

"Of course Poppy DeVere, what else would it be?"

His daughter Poppy DeVere had just turned 18.

"Like me!"

Now Poppy DeVere was headstrong and she decided that she wanted to learn to fly. Fortunately her father Derek owned two planes-

"I thought you said his name was Dennis."

"Oh...yes, um, but they called him Derek due to his rather large nose."

Sophie scrunched up her face, took a deep drag on the joint, then nodded earnestly as she exhaled. "Makes sense," she said.

So Poppy-

"Hang on, what kind of planes?"

"What? Oh....usual kind. Wings and..."

"What make?"

"Um, a Sopwith Camel and a Boeing."

"He had a Boeing?"

"Like I said, he was very rich. To DeVere a Boeing was nothing, like us having a Lexus or -"

He belched rather loudly and took another shot of whisky, then a toke on the joint before passing it back.

Sophie looked very serious suddenly.

"Was DeVere a good man would you say?"

"Well if you let me finish the story you'll find out." He swayed a little in his seat unable to focus for a moment.

Now, DeVere was a good man, but Sophie-no Poppy knew that he would never agree to her flying his beloved planes, so she decided to take one up without him knowing. She reasoned she had been up with him enough times to get the gist, how hard could it be?

The buzzer sounded and Sophie took her turn.

It so happened DeVere was out of town on business, so she decided there was no time like the present. However there was a problem. She would have to ask their servant Huxby for the keys.

"Huxby?"

Now good, loyal Huxby was an old family friend whom his father had met at Trinity College in Dublin. He was of Irish descent-

"Oh God, you're not going to do the accent are you?"

She approached him in the kitchens where he was preparing a boar for roasting on the spit that evening.

Roy snorted.

'Ah tap o' the marnin to ye Miss Pappy-'

They had to break off while they laughed uncontrollably for a few minutes.

"This is Ireland in Jamaica is it?"

'An what can I be doin' for ye?' Poppy smiled sweetly and said 'Huxby I need to take up the Boeing, please give me the keys.' But Huxby-'

The timer buzzed.

But Huxby wasn't to be so easily persuaded. 'Ah Miss Pappy, ye know I kent dae it, arrr.'

"He's Irish Daddy, not a pirate."

"Well, actually! Funny you should say that because..."

"What?"

Her father stared at the floor for a few seconds then with a jolt said

"No, I've forgotten."

'Huxby, you surely don't want me to tell Daddy what you did? He would be very angry and would certainly sack you.' Huxby looked at Poppy crestfallen.

"Oh no, what had Huxby done?"

Roy looked at the timer.

"I was kind of hoping you would tell me but..."

He had been a fool. In a moment of weakness he had fallen to the charms of Poppy DeVere and taken her roughly from behind while she played badminton.

"Hang on, what? She was playing badminton and he just took her?"

"Well you know what Huxby's like. A beast."

"Well yes, but wasn't there another player? And didn't Poppy have a say in all this?"

"Again, if you let me finish."

It had been while she was playing Old Roger Thwy, the blind badminton champion. She had bent down to retrieve a shuttlecock and he had seen his chance-

Bzzz. Sophie took the baton

To shuttle a cock of his own.

"Slick," said her father approvingly, pouring a large whisky.

'Please Miss Pappy, don't tell yer faither, oi'll never get another job. Oi'll get ye the keys, but aim comin up with yous.' And so it was that Poppy and Huxby found themselves on the tarmac. Huxby wheeled over the metal stairs allowing her to climb to the cockpit. If you're lucky I'll give you a cockpit of your own, she thought...

"Alright, don't milk it," Roy said, laughing as he took over the story.

Now, it was a fairly blustery day, as indicated by the tumescent orange windsock at the end of the runway. As Poppy prepared to climb the stairs, she wished she'd dressed more appropriately.

"What was she wearing then?" asked his daughter.

For she was wearing a....

He looked around for inspiration.

...a white top with a denim skirt.

"Jesus, daddy, where DO you get your ideas?" she said scathingly as she looked at her own attire

.

"Was she also wearing white ankle socks and trainers? Maybe a silver chain with a Pisces pendant."

"Yes, all those things."

and as she climbed the stairs Huxby was able to enjoy the sight of her firm buttocks framed in thin white knickers.

Sophie peeked beneath her denim skirt. "Huh, lucky guess."

But Huxby was nothing if not professional. He sat beside her and started the engines, slightly nervous of the weather conditions. As they coasted along the runway at 200 miles per hour he said, 'Oi'll let you take over when we're in the air Miss Pappy.'

It was Sophie's turn, but she was busy rolling another joint, sitting cross legged by the coffee table, her skirt riding wantonly high and the white triangle of her knickers clearly visible to her father. "Busy, daddy, keep going."

As they hit full speed the plane lifted gracefully into the air like a magnificent silver swan. 'Don't worry Huxby, your secret is safe. What happens on the badminton court stays on the badminton court.' Huxby, relieved, scanned the gauges skilfully and was perturbed to see the one that said "everything is not alright" was flickering.

"Probably the most important of all the gauges to be fair," chipped in his daughter, as she licked the three rizla doobie.

'Oi tink we shid torn back Miss Pappy,' he said, but Poppy was having none of it. 'Hand control to me, Huxby. I'll keep her airborne.' Reluctantly Huxby transferred control, the ominous gauge now fully lit in bright red letters. But Poppy's hubris was her downfall. She couldn't handle the metal beast, the plane started zig-zagging out of control. 'ABORT, ABORT!' screamed Huxby as he located the parachutes beneath the seats. The plane was still 3000 feet above land as they managed to scramble into their -

"Are you listening Sophie, this is good stuff here."

His daughter sat up with a start from her slump, her gaze fixed on her father's crotch.

"Sorry, yes. Abort abort...go on."

-into their parachutes and leap out before the plane plummeted to the ground. But Huxby's chute didn't open!

"Oh No!"

As he plunged to his death he shouted,' I'm sorry Miss Pappy, please tell your faither that the boar needs seasoning - there is a pack of salt in the-' and he was gone. And do you know, to this day they never found out where that salt was.

"You killed Huxby!"

"Meh," shrugged her father. "This is great, Sophie. We should get this all written down tomorrow, I reckon we could easily find a publisher."

"Oh totally," she concurred as she took the last toke of the joint, keeping it down far longer than she intended. As she exhaled again she spoke in a croaky voice:

"Probably get a film made too. Let's get up early and start on it in your office."

"I'm in. Anyway it's your turn."

Sophie was already semi-incoherent but she persisted gamely. She told of how Poppy was overcome with grief, and terror at what her father would say. How he stormed into her room and demanded to know what the hell she thought she was playing at, she could have been killed.

But Roy was only half listening. Sophie's knickers had been exposed the whole time as she sat on the floor and leaned against the sofa, knees up and together, feet apart. He saw that a patch of moisture had formed between her legs. His cock stirred and became quite uncomfortable.

'I'm so sorry, Daddy,' cried Poppy, 'tell me how I can make it better. I'll do anything.' She looked at him with a pouty expression. He-'

"Oh, I was just getting into that," complained Sophie as she yielded the telling to her father.

He looked at her with lust in his eyes, 'well if you mean it, let me think. Hmmm well as you know, I like looking at white panties under denim skirts. Call it a kink if you will but...'

Sophie had let her knees fall open a little. Roy saw that the edge one of her outer lips was poking from the side of her panties.

'...If you were to let me see.' Poppy smiled sweetly and opened her legs revealing her thin white panties to her father. He stared greedily, his cock becoming hard. How he had longed to touch his daughter in that way.

Sophie's hand had fallen between her legs and she was idly stroking the errant lip, barely conscious of what she was doing.

'You seem very comfortable letting your father see that, but I would also appreciate watching you stroke yourself through your panties. Let your Daddy see how wet you get.' Poppy smiled and started sliding her finger between her lips through the fabric.

Sophie took over, her fingers now unconcernedly tracing her lips through her panties as he watched.

By now her father's erection was obvious. 'Mmmm daddy, that looks such a nice thick cock, why don't you just let me see it,' she said. Her father complied and unleashed his beautiful hard penis while she stroked herself.

Roy took the hint, unzipped his trousers and released his hard cock. As he stroked it Sophie looked over and licked her lips.

The sight of her father stroking his lovely big cock made her wet. 'That's it Daddy,' she said, 'stroke it for your little girl, smear your precum into the tip.'

Bzzz.

His cock was harder than it had been for a while,

continued Roy.

'You know, Poppy if I could just see your wet cunt, maybe if you were to pull your knickers to the side, I think I might be able to overlook the whole crashed plane thing.' 'Of course, Daddy,' she said and in a swift movement she had shown him her wet hole, her clitoris aroused and sensitive.

Sophie pulled her knickers to the side and slumped drunkenly onto her elbows with her knees wide open. Roy continued wanking his cock as he continued the story, staring intently between his daughter's legs.

'Poppy, it almost seems a shame to let that tasty juice just trickle down your leg and into your asshole. If you like I can lick it all up for you'

"Oh he's a dirty father isn't he, just offering to do that, knowing she won't resist," said Sophie thickly.

"Well he is Dave DeVere -multi billion hedgehog manager," he said meaninglessly as he tottered across to the sofa, trousers round his ankles. He hoisted her up onto the couch like a rag doll and positioned himself between her legs. "He gets what he wants fair means foe."

The timer buzzed and Roy placed his hands on his daughter's thighs and moved his face between her legs, hooking his finger under her knickers to keep them from interfering.

But Poppy was a very demanding daughter. By that I mean she demanded great attention from her lovers - Huxby and the others-

"How many lovers?"

She pushed his head back down with a shush.

Many is the time she had pleasured herself while thinking about how his tongue might feel, but now it was actually inside her and teasing her soaking lips she realised her fantasy had fallen far short of the reality. So many men seemed to rather dislike oral sex, but Mr DeVere clearly loved it and couldn't get enough, which enhanced her pleasure even further.

'Mmmm.' Panicking slightly she realised she was about to orgasm. She wasn't sure how her father would react to such an impertinence, especially if, as seemed likely, she were to squirt into his mouth.

Roy kissed his daughter's clitoris and let his tongue wander into her asshole and then back to her vagina, he wiggled it around as she writhed beneath him

But Poppy was too far gone to oooh, to worry about, Daddy I'm...

Sophie screamed as her squirt gushed into her father's mouth. Having no other option he simply swallowed it down.

DeVere couldn't believe what had happened,

Roy continued.

That his impudent daughter would just squirt into his mouth. 'I'll teach her,' he thought, and pulled his daughter's face to his swollen member, forcing her to take his full length in her mouth.

"Is he going to come in her mouth?" slurred Sophie, her eyelids almost closed now as she lay dishevelled and sprawled, legs open, her soaking vagina still pulsing from her orgasm. Roy scooched himself up to the necessary height and held his daughter's head. Her eager mouth opened and he slid his cock in. Her hands grabbed his buttocks and pulled him to her. A stray finger found its way into his asshole.

DeVere had never had a finger in his ass before and he writhed in ecstasy as he fucked his daughter's wicked mouth. With a swift thrust he came sloppily and... and Jesus fucking-

As Roy ejaculated into her mouth, his balls seemed to tighten up into his body. She slowly pulled out her finger and he slumped between her legs, his mouth resting against her dripping cunt.

As his cum drooled out of the side of Sophie's mouth and down her chin they fell asleep.

...

And that's how they found themselves eight hours later.

After groggily restoring various disarrayed clothing, and drinking several litres of orange juice, Sophie was first to talk.

"Guess we...had sex last night or something."

"Guess we did."

"Should we... keep it to ourselves forever and ever on pain of death?"

"You know the rule Sophie. What happens on the badminton court stays on the badminton court."