The Model & the Mayhem

Through all the fuss and muss, the chaotic first encounter, the repetitive second, the dastardly third. A pity, really, to be so useless at her age. So willfully accepting that I, her daughter can have him anytime I want.

Oh, Daddy Bear, I'll be with you soon. As soon as I bring these people up to speed, I will have you once more and the world will be a better place for it, you'll see.

I am Francesca Devlin, or Frankie Devil, to my many social media platforms. I pose for a wide range of photographers. Yet, as dead-end as all model careers are, I live in the NOW, showing my luscious genetic gifts to any and all with pretty pennies to dispense. The photographer wants to fuck me (which one? Any one.), his assistant wants to fuck me. Shit, the assistant's cousin's mother wants to fuck me. Am I that hot? Six-figure Twitter followers and a Facebook dripping with stalkers says 'Yes'. But my beauty will someday fade, twice as fast considering the depleted ozone, cancer in everything edible, Starbucks, the death of the honey bee. Little do these ogling, borderline pedophiles know that the source of my success is none other than the two advantageous people that brought me into this world: my parents. 19 years ago they chose to procreate so here I am.

Mom's a piece of work and Dad's a piece of ass; rock solid ass. I didn't want an Elektra complex anymore than I wanted to be an underwater welder, but 'them's the brakes'. I turn down the literal stampede of cock that is hurtled at me daily, both virtually and IRL. I feed them some excuse, that I'm either saving myself for some rich playboy type who will buy me a yacht, if only I trade my innocence; or I explain if the timing was right, they may have an actual chance. The latter is by far more devious, but the more they want to fuck me, the more I enjoy fucking with their heads. Secretly, I'm an all-accounted-for Daddy's girl, complete with incestuous affair and a willfully cucked mother. The pathetic sap sits next to me on the plane, thumbing a Readers Digest - a Readers Digest for fuck sake!

What did you see in this woman all those years ago, Daddy?

For a lady who sells posture and perky tits, poise and wet lips, I don't actually have a lot of free time. I'm young enough to where my metabolism does 99% of the work a personal trainer would, so I save money on that at least. I don't smoke because (1) it's gross and (2) my Daddy thinks it's gross and he won't "kiss an ashtray". I do drink. In fact, I stole one of Mommy Dearest's whiskey-minis and dropped it in my Pepsi. I'm such a lightweight, so it's still fun and not an issue, like it is with Ol' Mummsy. We fly first class so she can drink and so I don't get groped by a stranger while she's shitfaced. Don't get me wrong, I do love her, I just don't like her sometimes. I do have to share her husband with her. He is her husband, but that was the deal. She gets broken off with a constitutional fuck a few times a month and Daddy and I are free to clog the calendar with some quality alone time. I guess it's fair. Daddy gets a mistress; Mommy gets to not be lonely, penniless divorcee (thanks pre-nup); and I get to have more-than-consentual lovin' with a buff, dreamy hunk of a man. Last month, we were in Italy and I thought he was trying to get me pregnant how he fucked me so many times. Mom "stood watch", but really she just read a book in a chair next to the bed whole sweet Father-o-mine came in my pussy, like, four times. I caught her staring a few times but I've gotten used to it. We've all gotten used to it.

The flight home to Arkansas (I know, right?) couldn't have come sooner. It's been almost two weeks since Mr. Vincent Devlin played the plumber and laid some pipe, and I'm so damn horny I could cry. I want to make a video, maybe Mom could film it, of me and Daddy together, but Mom said it would be disastrous if the thing were leaked. Hacked, then leaked, as she put it. Damn the digital age. I would love a visual keepsake of our special times together, but the Cuck is right. I've got to protect my Daddy's image as well as my own. Rubbing one or two out to some homemade incest porn would pass the time quicker between our time apart, maybe make me less anxious.

So, being a particularly naughty super-sneak, I make my way to the airplane bathroom. All this thinking about Daddy has me wet and I will not go another second without handling it. Armed with my iPhone, I sit and pull up some delectable (and shameless) daddy-daughter porn. I always have to pass up a few low quality shitty-ass vids before I get to the good stuff. Of course, ever since I found Incestflix.com, I've enjoyed my alone time a little easier. Fifteen minutes in and my toes are curling, my hand clutching the phone steady, beads of sweat on my forehead. The girl in the video screams for her father to keep fucking her and I understand completely. I try to stifle my moans but an extended whine escapes me as I cum squirting all over the toilet and into my panties around my ankles as well (which is surprising because I'm not usually the squirting type). Blushing, panting and with legs like a baby deer, I begin to clean my mess, as I'm hoping not to have to explain a large puddle. A knock on the door.

"Sweetie, are you okay in there?" It's the Mega-Cuck.

"Yeah, Mom. Coming out in a sec." I do my best to use a large quantity of hand towels to soak up my shame, then open the door to see her and the attendant side by side. Separated at birth, these two. Both formerly gorgeous caucasians with no real trade skills to speak of. The attendant is probably a cuck too. I shrug off my extended stay in the bathroom and take my seat.

The plane lands, we retrieve our matching luggage (Aww, how cute?) from baggage claim, climb into a rental and to home sweet home we go. I play some Luna Del Rey until the Wifey decides she wants a word. "Francesca, I didn't want to tell you on the plane, since you were looking forward to... to seeing your father again, but he went out on some business this morning and won't be back until tomorrow."

What! You fucking twat, how dare you keep such privileged information from me.

"What? Why? Why didn't he text me?"

"He knows how you get. Plus he said he'll make it up to you. We probably know what that means." Yeah, he'll fuck my brains out but this was supposed to be special.

"But it's my birthday this weekend." I said, more spoiled and petulant than I meant to.

"I know. I gave birth to you after all." Don't remind me. "We both... pitched in as you might say, and I'm not going on a limb to say that the delay will be worth it."

"But--"

"No buts. He'll be back tomorrow."

Bitch.

Of course, it's not her fault. I know that. I am beside myself with anticipation over what the birthday surprise might be. I'm not impressed by cars, exotic animals, expensive jewelry, flowers; and I earn enough on my own to buy what new gadgets impress me. I can only assume it's of the sexual persuasion, but then, what does Cuck-a-saurus Rex have to do with it? Besides being involved in some sadomasochistic cum-play I've fantasized about, what role could she possibly play? The internet porn I've been watching has opened my mind to more sadistic ways I could enhance her cuckitude. Daddy fucking me, pulling out and blasting her face; Daddy fucking me until we both cum, then she licks his cock clean (which I assume has already happened at some point); Daddy fucking me until he blesses me with his cum, then I stand over her and let his glorious seed spill all over her rapidly aging face. The last of these considerations is a bit extreme even for me, but know cucking her ass is so hardwired into my sexuality, I'm afraid I might be ruined for other men. I'm willing to give him anal, but he says he has a wife for that.

I've researched our dynamic on the net in between shoots and school, and if you take out the whole incest element, mom is a cuckquean, Dad is a queanbull, and I am a cuckcake - a treat. Cuckcakes have been known to be dominant, making the wife a submissive wreck. We'll get there one day I'm sure, but for now it's actually fairly vanilla. Passionate, rough at times, but I feel he has been holding back, protecting his little girl. I like that he doesn't treat me like a sex doll; more like a doting father conceding to an extreme demand of a sexually spoiled daughter. Varuca Salt: eat your heart out. Sometimes I dress up all fancy, sometimes just a bra-less pink lace panties with pigtails. It works for both of us. The third time we were all in the same room (the third time Daddy and I made love), Mom rubbed one out next to us, so I know she gets something out of this too.

I wanted him. Sometimes after turning eighteen the inklings began, which then became itches, which became urges. I don't really know how nor exactly when, but I know it took way too long I tell him as much. My wires got crossed as young men my age were unappealing almost overnight. Not only did I leave behind twenty-something celebrity heart-throbs, I was repelled by other men his age and physique. My body wanted only one thing: the cock that brought me into this world. It was an undertaking to come to terms with it, even more to muster the nerve to ask. I found myself masturbating to his musky scent of post workout clothes, sneaking into my parents' room while he was in the shower. My toes curled, my stifled impish moans from his sweaty shirt between my gritted teeth, the delectable sin of release as I repeatedly whispering "Daddy" while cumming. Something had to give and I was at the crossroads to having him or leaving home.

Despite how I daydreamed the sleek and seductive it all would be, yet it was mostly tears, shameful apologies and begging on my behalf. The movies make it look so... cool, when young sexy women seduce the older male lead. They leave off the part where one practically throws a nineteenth birthday tantrum and demand paternal lovemaking. It wasn't until Mom intervened and gave her blessing that Dad reluctantly consented. Her argument was that it should better be him and not some STD carrying ape, but making me wait until 19 days after my nineteenth birthday was his contribution. He wanted me to be sure. I was sure. We talked more openly over the next few days, which became jokes, which then became flirting, which morphed beautifully into downright desire. He wore a condom the first time, which was lame and I told him as much. If you're going to fuck your nineteen year old daughter, you go all in, right? Yet he, ever the mentor, wanted to tout the virtues of safe sex. Such a Dad, then he stuck it in and fucked me like I owed him money.

My dildo I used up until I fucked my father was three-quarters his length and half his girth. Needles to say my petite pussy was demolished but I loved it. He made me bleed. A real man, A safe man, to be my first. I was so shy and afraid I wouldn't please him and boy was I wrong. We went all night. His girth pushing the elasticity of my vaginal walls to their limits and beyond. My tight virgin cunt never ceasing to stay wet for his masculine onslaught of virility. It did hurt, people. The man is a fucking machine and I thought I could feel his cock pushing my lungs aside but we got through it. The second time I took more control and rode him slow. He really took his time, touching and exploring my taught young landscape, groping me as we came together, our darkest fantasies realized. I came five times that night, once in the morning.

Mom kept bringing us juice and peanuts and fruit. What a beta-female I've made her.

I begged him to go again and without the condom. He was understandably soft after cumming so I advanced my blowjob skills (I was quite the novice). I learned ball play, both mouth and hands, and how to savor the moment. I learned how to worship his cock, rubbing the saliva-laden shaft and swollen tip all about my face, utterly slathering my face with spit until I moved on to deep throating (or at least an attempt, as Daddy is too big for my itty-bitty mouth and jaw to accommodate). With all the whorish attention to his dick, Daddy got hard again and told me to get on my hands and knees. That is when

She

got involved. Just as Daddy's hot manhood was at my entrance, mom was closing the door behind her and locking eye contact as he slid into me, my slack jaw and gawking face producing a smirk on her face. Without the condom, I could feel every detail of his power as inch after inch burrowed into my cunt. Once he was fully inside I was gasping. He had taken it easy on me up until now. He gripped my dainty hips, pushing at my cervix, staying buried and still while I learned to cope with the added pressure. My mother had given him a nod and he began his pumps. Pumps became pushes, pushes became thrusts, thrusts became ecstasy. I screamed. I hollered. Mother's presence was irksome at first but soon I was enjoying having an audience to my Daddy's violation of his precious little girl. I gritted my teeth as pain and pleasure entwined, his might incontestable as I shouted for Daddy to fuck me, to never stop fucking me. "Fuck, Daddy! I gonna cum." He gripped both my shoulders with his large hands and repeatedly and unrepentantly rammed his full force in my uninitiated pussy while I took once last look at my mother, leering and seemingly pleased with my vaginal destruction. God bless the bitch, I came so hard. "FUCK! Fuck, I'm cumming! I'm CUMMING! Daaadddyyy." I felt his hot cum shoot in my pulverized cunt. It was like nothing I'd ever felt, and everything I never knew I wanted. "Ah! Ah! AUUGH!" I screamed with the fervor of a hostage hoping to escape captivity as his cum splashed inside my womb, my eyes going cross, my thighs quaking, my frame weakening. Convulsing, I felt his hold on me release and I fell forward, sliding off all ten inches of fatherhood onto my chest, my arms at my side, drool pooling on the bed while the world spun.

Since I took care of my more potent cravings on the plane, I went into deep pondering over where he was and if it had something to do with my birthday surprise. I hope its not a car. I really do enjoy being chauffeured like a celebrity, playing on my phone while Mom takes me from place to place. Benefits of being homeschooled since I left middle school. I don't have annoying peers to answer to '

friends'

they call them. Girls my age couldn't pull a man like my Daddy. They couldn't help but being jealous about my beauty or success. Couldn't fly first class much less afford it. No, my fellow models that have reached out to me over social media is all I need, superficial as any other conversations with girls my age would prove to be.

I know things can't stay like this forever, which makes me sad sometimes. Dad will grow out of his sexy late-forties, Mom will wilt like an avocado in the sun. I'll fall for some stupid boy and plop out a kid of my own. Everything will fall apart so easily, so perfectly. I don't want to imagine a world where I'll have to work on a real relationship! I probably have five more years until I grow out of fucking my father, but for now, he's all mine and I'm all his. Mom could have easily had my father reject my advances, forced me into a life of therapy and psycho-active medications, cutting me off completely for my legitimate urges - but she did. I do appreciate her for that. Only a mother could be that understanding. Maybe it was guilt for having sold images of my lithe body to the highest bidder since I was a legal adult, but that only explains so much.

The ongoing affair is somewhat for her benefit. I came home one day after shopping and she was asleep in my bed in just her bra, her hand between her legs. I could swear it smelt of like used pussy. Dad delays our special time if I confront her over trivial matters. He knows without his ultimate punishment (withholding sex), I'll treat my mother with a certain amount of respect. Deep down I know if I had him truly all to myself, if we ran away together, the sex wouldn't be as good without a wife and mother to cuck. Cruel maybe, but like I said, its working for us at the moment. She serves a purpose by simply existing.

I daydream in my bed for awhile, resisting the urge to fantasize, lest I be spent when he finally arrives tomorrow, He deserves my best. When I'm pent up like this, I cum right away, but I've learned to wait. I'm not supposed to cum without permission now, so the incident on the plane will be our little secret. He does seem to cum quicker with Mom in the room, but so do I. I roll around the house a bit: checking, liking and hearting posts from those on various platforms. I see my Mom on the couch watching TV so I play the good daughter and sit next to her. "What's up Izzy?"

My mother, Isabella Devlin actually hates when I call her anything except Mom or Mommy, but I can only be so nice. "Don't call me Izzy, Francesca." she deadpans without looking at me.

"Okay,

MOM

, what's on?"

"A movie is coming on in a couple of minutes." She still watches cable, ancient bitch.

"Which one?"

"Lolita. It's a remake of an older movie, based on an old book."

"What's it about?" She turns to me with an eyebrow raised.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard of it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she shrugs it off.

"Nothing. It didn't win any award or anything.

"Then why would I know about it?"

"It's about a young girl interested in an older married man, her father." My eyes widen. There's a movie about that?

"Is it any good?"

"The remake is halfway decent. Jeremy Irons plays the father, well, step-father." I deflated a bit because of the step-relation. Not pure incest. After I've had the real blissful orgasmic thing, nothing else will suffice.

"Who's Jeremy Irons?"

She laughs, "He's the voice of Scar from The Lion King."

"Oh..." I thought about watching it with her but ill check Rotten Tomatoes first. 68%, no thanks. Sounds right up my alley but if I get accidentally turned on, I wont be able to save myself for Daddy.

The night was filled with a fair share of tossing and turning. I got rid of my stuffies a few months ago and I especially miss Mr. Claw (Yes, I had stuffed animals after I turned eighteen). Mr. Claw was a lobster, a large one. He was always a comfort to me on the lonelier nights; traveling abroad and having waking nightmares where I was put up for adoption for fucking my father; nights when my father would please his wife in the next room and I would hold him tight, touching myself and wishing it was me instead. Mom is kind of a screamer, but Dad has that effect on us. As both of his lovers, we are North and South Pole. I, young; she, old. She makes a scene and I try to take it all in muffled moans. We are both dirty talkers, getting worked up by narrating the acts in which we take part. Like mother, like daughter, I suppose. I want to be more adventurous; nastier, freakier. But Dad is still treating me like a girl sometimes. I want to show him I can match whatever the Cuck-A-Tron 300 has to offer. Maybe not my asshole though. I tried to finger my ass when masturbating but I can't seem to see the natural appeal. To please him of course. My body just doesn't crave it like my aging counterpart. When it comes down to it, I'd rather fuck my mother in the ass then get stuffed myself. She's probably like it anyway. Another way for me to show my superiority. I drift into a scene where I'm armed with a giant strap-on, punishing her and her anal cavity while she screams like she does for my father.

Damnit, now I'm wet. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm not even a lesbian. I mean, women are sexy and everything. I never thought about eating pussy or kissing a fellow model on a two-girl photoshoot. But the thought of taking her backdoor with force is eerily appealing. I put the thought out of my head and try to get some sleep. I hug the pillow that has taken the place of Mr. Claw, hating that I only have social media fakes to vent to, to turn to.

Please come home, Daddy.