Loading...After the last submission – Timmy’s Step-mother gets Supersized – got such a pounding (and not in a good way!), I thought I’d put one up for the incest purists.
This one is a Daddy/daughter tale. The car breaks down close to Jonathon’s destination. He walks the last mile to the cottage and finds his daughter nude in the garden.
Etc.
It’s set in England, and I use English vernacular. Some phrases may be unfamiliar to other readers.
Without being condescending, a Hillman was a make of car way back when, a Foden is a truck, which I think I describe as a lorry at some point. I use ‘twat’ to describe female genitalia a couple of times. Pussy isn’t a word an English girl would use back in the 70s – at least I don’t think so. Plimsolls are a type of old-fashioned running shoe.
Anyway, I hope these points don’t have too much of a negative impact on the flow for a reader.
Feedback is appreciated.
Apologies for any errors which may remain in the text.
I hope you enjoy the tale.
Thank you for reading.
GA – Da Nang, Vietnam – 25th of April 2016.
***
1973
Jonathon pushes the Hillman as close as he can to the hedge, then walks the last mile to the cottage. It’s Sunday, which means there are no heavy vehicles lumbering up and down the lane to the quarry. It’s also a hot afternoon and, by the time Jonathon arrives at the blue gate, he’s ready for a long drink of water – and a cold beer.
He’s just reaching for the latch when he sees her on the lawn, the grass like green baize, the girl, youthful and lithe, laid on her front on a plaid blanket.
Jonathon is about to call out hello when he realises she’s stark naked, no bikini strap across her back, no briefs protecting her modesty.
He pauses, throat working, his body responding to the sight of her bare form, the bucolic setting under the high summer sky setting the juices flowing within.
Jonathon gapes in confusion for several seconds, conflicting emotions rising inside him. His mind is cleaved in two, morality and decency suggesting he turn around and walk away. He should make his approach obvious to give the girl time to react, so she can get covered up before he sticks his head over the gate. But, way down deep in some dark and clandestine place, carnal urges compel him to stare at his daughter as she soaks up the sun. Jonathon knows he shouldn’t be there this way. He knows it’s sordid and wrong. Spying on his daughter as she lies there oblivious is a despicable act, but he can’t quite bring himself to tear his attention away from what he thinks are the girl’s exquisite curves.
She’s just so lovely laid out as she is – natural and free with the sun warming her shoulders and the long sweep of her back, her bare buttocks so ripe and adorable…
The incongruous thought of I hope you don’t burn pops into his head, with Amber choosing that very moment to turn over.
Jonathon feels the desire swell up from his core. He swallows again, gulping down on the urge to unzip his flies and haul out his length.
He remains perfectly still, gaping at the front of his daughter’s body, his eyes going from her face to her breasts and down over her tummy. He boggles at what looks to be a wisp of light smoke decorating her mound, the girl’s pubic bush so fair and delicate he can see the crease of her sex as she stands to throw a glance up to the sky, shielding her eyes with a salute as she checks the angle of the sun and her shadow laid out on the blanket.
Jonathon is fully aware movement attracts the eye, so he remains perfectly still, illicit desires curdling his guts as he continues to soak up the detail of his own daughter’s nude body, guts churning with anxiety as he hopes she doesn’t happen to throw a look in his direction.
To his immense relief, she settles down on her back, face directed up towards the sky, sighing as she closes her eyes.
He’s reluctant to leave, but eventually does after a last lingering stare at the girl on the blanket.
Distracted, Jonathon walks back along the lane, getting as far as the chapel set in its glade some hundred yards from the road. He opens the old wrought-iron gate and moves along the path to sit in the shade of the lych-gate, his mind in turmoil at what he’s just done.
He leaves it ten minutes before sighing and standing, brushing the dust from the seat of his jeans.
When he gets back to the cottage, he sees she’s still laid out in all her naked glory, but at least he’s prepared for the encounter this time.
“Bloody hell, Amber!” he cries, turning away from the gate to avert his eyes as she levers up onto her elbows and forearms. “Put some bloody clothes on, will you!”
1976
The shrill ring of the phone is insistent. “All right,” he says before muttering a curse. “I’m bloody-well coming.”
“Dad?” Jonathon hears when he holds the receiver up to his ear.
“Yes, sweetie, it’s me,” he replies. “How are you, darling?”
There’s a pause before Amber says, “I … I need to get away from here, daddy. I keep seeing him and it hurts when I do.”
Jonathon feels the rise of anger inside him. “Is he bothering you…?”
“No,” says his daughter. “He’s kept his distance. I just keep on seeing him in all the old places. I was wondering … Do you mind if I use the cottage for a few weeks? I’ve checked the diary, there aren’t any bookings.”
Jonathon’s reply is immediate. “Of course not,” he says. “It’s yours as much as mine.”
As he says it, Jonathon’s mind takes him back to that time, back to when the damnable car had broken down and he’d been forced to walk along the lane. To when he saw Amber laid out on the lawn.
“I was thinking of going over myself,” Jonathon adds, his voice cracking in response to his sudden erection.
There’s a long silence before he hears Amber say, “That’d be nice, daddy. It’s supposed to be warm at the weekend.”
His Adam’s apple bounces, anticipation gripping his stomach when his daughter says, “We could go walking over the hill. We could take a picnic up there.”
There’s another pause, with Jonathon’s throat too constricted for him to make any reply.
“You know, like we did before…” his daughter ends on a whisper.
“That would be lovely,” Jonathon says, the words coming up as a half-choked gurgle. He’s reeling from the implications of what he says next. “I … I could drive over on Saturday morning. When were you thinking of going?”
Amber tells him, “Tonight. I really do need to get away from this place.”
The call ends a few moments later.
“See you on Saturday,” Jonathon says to his daughter.
“All right. Love you, dad.”
There’s a click. She’s gone. Jonathon replaces the handset into its cradle, then goes to his library where he pours a generous measure of whisky into a cut-glass tumbler.
“Oh God,” Jonathon whispers to himself as he settles into the big leather chair. “Oh shit, oh fuck … Amber…” he breathes.
1973
They start at 4 a.m.
Jonathon is in the room at the gable-end of the cottage closest to the road, the heavy Fodens going along the lane with their loads of limestone rousing him from slumber.
He sits up in bed, in the room he had as a child, blinking at the daylight already bright beyond the curtains.
His first thought is for the car tucked into the hedge, then he recalls what he saw the previous day, his cock going thick at the memory of Amber laid on the front lawn.
Jonathon doesn’t think much about the morality of what he does next as he fondles his dick and tries to put it out of his mind that he’s fantasising over his own flesh and blood. He sees Amber as she was, her body so sweet in the minutes he’d stared at her nudity from his position by the front gate.
He puts it from his mind while tugging his length, refusing to admit just who it is firing his libido, the cum spitting out of his dick as he gasps and moans and feels the blessed relief his masturbatory pleasure has brought.
Jonathon wipes off the spunk which clings to his belly and chest, tossing his tee-shirt aside before settling down for at least three more hours of sleep, his head full of his daughter, dark urges churning inside him while he attempts to deny his moral transgression.
His rest is disturbed, his mind in torment, with Jonathon giving it up at a point just beyond six in the morning.
He leaves his room and makes the descent down the ancient stairs, the uneven walls under his palm as he goes down, the thick blocks of the walls oddly familiar regardless of the years which have passed since he called the place home.
Jonathon showers in the familiar bathroom, thinking about the renovations he’s planned. He thinks it’s definitely time to get the place brought up-to-date. The plumbing is old, the wiring ancient, and the new kitchen will be most welcome, especially since he plans to use the place as a holiday let.
He’s munching toast in the kitchen, pondering the ongoing problem of where to install a bathroom upstairs when Amber appears.
The girl looks sleepy and tousled, long hair in disarray as she greets her father with a yawn.
“Hello, dad,” his daughter says with a hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she adds.
“Sleep well did you?”
“Must have been all that fresh air yesterday. I was knocked out as soon as I went to bed. But,” she goes on with a shrug, “I always sleep really well here.”
Jonathon nods, looking up from his breakfast, doing his best not to eye the girl’s thighs where the hem of her long tee-shirt barely covers her vulva.
Amber yawns again and stretches her arms, giving her father a quick flash of her fluff.
“Breakfast?” croaks Jonathon, pushing away from the table.
Amber plonks her rump onto a ladder-backed chair, reaching over to take hold of the tea-pot.
She looks at her father. “Toast would be lovely.”
Jonathon nods. “All right, give me a minute.”
He takes two slices of bread from the earthenware jar before slipping them into the toaster.
From behind him, Amber asks, “Are you going to fetch the car this morning?”
“I’d better get something done,” Jonathon replies. “Those lorries are busy today. I’d best get it moved before there’s some kind of accident. Bloody car,” he adds with a mutter.
“At least you were almost here. It could have been worse.”
Jonathon nods in agreement while watching the toaster. “I suppose. I could’ve been on the bloody M1. Bloody stranded then, I expect.”
“Do you fancy a picnic up on the hill? If you get the car shifted, we could go up there for lunch.”
He feels it’s safe to turn and look at Amber now she’s sat down, her legs out of sight under the table.
“Well, it’s a glorious day – why not? The builder’s not due ’til tomorrow. The only thing I have to do today is get the car sorted.”
They discuss the upcoming improvements to the cottage before moving on to logistics of the picnic.
“I’ll make us a pack-up,” says Amber, draining off the last of her tea. “If you can sort the car in time … Shall we say half-twelve for a walk up the hill?”
Jonathon pauses while considering the chances of being ready in time. “All right. Well,” he says, getting out of his chair, “can I leave this for you to tidy up?” He gestures at the plates and cups and tea pot.
Amber surveys the table. “Of course.”
“Then I’ll see about getting the car shifted.”
*
He looks at her shorts with some consternation before moving his focus up to her face.
“Uhm, I say, sweetheart, those are a bit on the brief side,” Jonathon tells Amber.
“There’s nobody to see,” Amber replies, rolling her eyes. “And I’ve got my bikini bottoms on underneath. I’m quite decent, dad.”
He has to admit she’s all covered up, but the shorts and tight tank-top are still very revealing, the fabric seemingly moulded to her body.
“But your bottom’s … well, I can see your bum poking out.”
“Don’t be such an old fuddy-duddy, father. I want to get my legs brown. Anyway, it’s only you who’s going to see these shorts.”
“And any driver going past,” puts in Jonathon.
“Then let’s get across the lane and up the hill while the coast’s clear.”
Before Jonathon can say any more, Amber has the small rucksack on her back and is away across the lane to the triple-strand fence. She’s over the wire and moving up the modest incline, her father watching her derriere twitch.
Jonathon sucks in a deep breath and shoulders his own pack, then follows the line Amber has taken across the road.
Fifteen minutes later, they’re just shy of the hill’s apex, sheltered from view from above by an outcrop of rock.
Amber stands with her hands on her hips to take in the view, the cottage a child’s toy, fields and hedgerows beyond, the limestone scar of the quarry an ever-expanding bowl to her right.
“It’s always so gorgeous up here,” the girl breathes, her eyes following the Matchbox lorry moving along the lane. “It must have been lovely for you when you were growing up.”
Jonathon lowers his burden and pulls a face. “Winters were bleak sometimes,” she says. “And it was a trek to school.”
Amber puts her own pack down next to her father’s. “Six miles to school after mucking out the pigs,” she says with a grin. “Kids of today,” she adds in a piss-taking tone, “don’t know they’re born…”
“That’s enough of that,” Jonathon says with a chuckle. “Anyway, we only had one pig.”
“Why, what will you do?” Amber replies. “Spank my bottom?”
There’s a visceral hitch inside Jonathon when her words conjure up and immediate and unexpected image of Amber over his knee, her rump exposed to the palm of his hand, the oyster of her sex right there in the concavity at the tops of her inner-thighs.
He tries to make light of it by saying, “You’re not too old, young lady,” continuing with, “So, let’s get unpacked.”
He masks his chagrin by kneeling to unbuckle the straps on his rucksack, pulling the blanket out first, the same plaid one on which he’d seen his daughter displayed the previous day. Jonathon gulps at the reminder, his discomfit blooming to a hot rush in his cheeks when he looks up to see Amber peeling the tank-top over her head.
“What are you doing?” Jonathon asks.
Amber pauses just as her fingers loosen the buttons at the waist of her shorts. “Stripping off. I told you, I’ve got my bikini on underneath. Don’t worry, it isn’t like yesterday, dad.”
His face burns hotter while his daughter continues to stare. “I … I’m sorry about that.”
Amber shrugs. “Don’t be. I’m not embarrassed. It’s only nature, dad. I love being outdoors in the nude.”
It’s a conversation he doesn’t want to have – not with his daughter. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me,” Jonathon gurgles, getting busy inside the backpack.
Amber counters with, “Why not?”
From the corner of his eye, Jonathon can see she’s shrugging the shorts past her hips.
“Because it’s inappropriate, that’s why.”
“God,” his daughter sighs, “it’s the 1970s, dad. Were you so pompous in the 60s?”
“I was working in the 60s. I had a wife and a daughter to provide for. It wasn’t all free-love and rock music, you know. Not for everybody.”
Then she’s down beside him, kneeling next to her father, a hand on his shoulder. “I … I didn’t mean to upset you,” she breathes.
The sudden rush of ire evaporates completely. Jonathon lets out a sigh, turning his head to regard his daughter’s earnest expression.
He gulps when he sees her blue-eyes set in a serious cast, blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail away from her face.
“God, you’re lovely,” Jonathon murmurs, the words spilling out before he can stop them.
It’s a momentary thing, but he feels a sudden desire to lean in and kiss Amber’s mouth. He can see the curve of her breasts, the inner flanks so tempting, his cock abruptly stiff in his jeans.
He sees the shock flicker behind Amber’s eyes, a quick flash of consternation furrowing her brow.
“I’m sorry,” Jonathon says in a rush. “It was just you reminded me of your mother.”
It’s a lie, but he can’t think of anything else to say in the moments following his outburst, Amber’s gaze still fixed on his face.
“Let’s not talk about her,” Amber says, not moving away. “Don’t spoil today.”
Jonathon lets out another sigh, ashamed and confused by the desire he feels for his daughter. “All right, I’m sorry … Look, let’s just unpack and have our picnic. If you want to sunbathe, at least be careful not to get burnt.”
There’s silence between them, the father worrying about his inappropriate thoughts while the daughter struggles with painful memories of what she sees as her mother’s desertion.
The pair set out the picnic, the blanket spread out over the tufts of grass, plastic containers and an old biscuit tin filled with sandwiches and cake. Amber goes to her father’s rucksack and pulls out a thermos of tea and two bottles of beer, rummaging around for an opener to pop the caps off the bottles.
The mood shifts between them again, turning benign as they munch on the food and take pulls at the beer, conversation slow between them as they talk about the quarry and Jonathon’s plans to turn the cottage over to strangers who want to use it as a base to explore the Peak District.
“That was marvellous, sweetheart,” Jonathon says to his daughter. “Thank you for that.”
Amber chuckles and tells him he’s welcome, her father settling down onto his back, eyes closing as unaccustomed ale in the middle of the day has a soporific effect.
Jonathon dozes, his mind hovering just above a layer of sleep, odd dreams coming in.
He isn’t too sure how long he’s laid there, but when he opens his eyes he feels another visceral tug, his focus going to his daughter, with Amber naked again.
“Amber?” he croaks. “What are you doing?”
She’s standing upright, hands on her hips, her back to her father as she surveys the parochial scene spread out for miles.
When Amber swivels at the waist, Jonathon sees her breasts in three-quarter profile, the feminine sweep of her waist and hips tugging at Jonathon’s core.
“I just love being bare,” she says to her father. “It feels lovely up here. Why don’t you try it?” the girl asks. “You must be melting in those heavy old jeans.”
Jonathon looks at his daughter, swallowing hard when he sees the taut flesh of her buttocks, his cock already erect while he takes in the incongruity of her blue plimsolls she’s still got on her feet.
“Amber, oh God, sweetheart, no. I can’t, and you shouldn’t…
“Bloody hell, girl, won’t you cover yourself up!”
But to Jonathon’s surprise, she just shrugs and laughs. “I don’t want to,” pouts Amber. “I like being this way.
“Come on,” she says, turning round fully, the blonde fur at her sex drawing Jonathon’s eyes. “It’s just us two up here. Nobody will see us.”
“But I’m your father,” Jonathon splutters, appalled at her casual flaunting.
“What does that matter?” puts in the girl. “I’m not bothered by that.”
“You should be,” he says, sitting upright, unable to take his attention off the girl’s body.
“Why?” she asks, tone defiant. “It’s natural for us to be naked. Why don’t you just take your clothes off? It’s lovely.”
Then she sees her father glance at the front of his jeans.
“Oh!” blurts Amber, the realisation dawning.
1976
Jonathon steers the Hillman’s successor through the big gate, moving past the front garden to where he follows the curve to the far gable-end of the cottage. He turns off the engine and sits there for a few seconds, gathering his composure before confronting his daughter.
He leaves the Capri unlocked after collecting his case from the space in the back of the car, then goes into the cottage.
“You’re here,” says Amber in greeting, moving in close to peck a kiss at her father’s cheek.
“How are you, sweetheart?” Jonathon asks in reply, doing his best to ignore the girl’s nudity.
“Better now you’re here with me,” she says on a sigh.
“Don’t you think you should put some clothes on, darling?”
“No, daddy,” coos Amber. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?”
Jonathon tightens his grip the handle of his suitcase, fingers squeezing the plastic as he struggles against the dark urges his daughter’s nakedness unleash inside him.
“Why not?” Jonathan asks as desire swells his cock. He remembers the things they did together that previous time.
“You were right when you said I shouldn’t marry him. I couldn’t see him for the filthy wanker he is.”
“You were too young,” Jonathon says. “You’re only twenty-one, darling…”
It’s an old conversation by now, with everything having been said before, Amber in tears in the aftermath of discovering her husband of only two months has never been faithful.
“Let’s not talk about him,” Amber says. “I just want to be here with you.” She eyes her father and throws a glance at his suitcase. “I want to be safe. Won’t you put that suitcase down and give me a cuddle?”
“I … I don’t know if I should,” Jonathon gurgles. “Not with you … well, not with you in the nuddy.”
“We’ve been this way before,” Amber points out. “Remember–?”
“Yes,” Jonathon snaps, cutting her short. “Of course I remember. But don’t you think it was all wrong? For God’s sake, Amber, I’m your dad … I got carried away. I shouldn’t have let it get as far as it did. I feel so responsible. I feel like I let you down.”
She’s relentless as she murmurs, “But I loved being that way with you. And we didn’t exactly do it, did we?”
“We might as well have. We got so bloody close…”
“Ah, but we didn’t quite get there.”
“No, which is why I don’t think it would be a good idea to be cuddling you without you wearing any clothes.”
“Don’t you want to do it all again, though?”
Which was a question Jonathon didn’t want to face. He knew the answer was yes, he did want to do it again.
“Just a cuddle, daddy,” she purrs, taking the case from his hand and placing it down on the floor.
Jonathon knows he’s lost as soon as his arms go around her. He takes in the scent of her hair and the heat of her body.
“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, lips at her throat.
“Yes, daddy,” she whispers, then offers her mouth for his kiss.
1973
He doesn’t know why he can’t stop her, but he has neither the will nor the strength. Amber stares at the front of his jeans for several long moments, then looks into his face.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says with a whisper as she walks to him.
For Jonathon, the universe shrinks. They’re no longer up on the hillside. For him it’s all about the bubble surrounding them both, reality a separate dimension.
He can see Amber getting down to her knees; Jonathon watches her hand go to his shoulder an instant before he lets her ease him down onto his back.
No, he thinks as he lifts his backside from the blanket, taking his weight on his heels and his shoulders while Amber yanks at his jeans.
Jonathon knows he shouldn’t be complicit, even as he’s unlacing his boots. He pulls off his footwear and socks, shucking out of his jeans, cock waggling around when he kneels to pull off his tee-shirt.
“Goodness,” mumbles his daughter, her eyes set of the long jib jutting up from his groin. “That’s a marvellous cock.”
It shocks him to hear her say it. Jonathon feels the cold-water slap of surprise, wondering what previous experience of an erect male appendage she can possibly have.
“Don’t say that, darling,” Jonathon croaks. “It’s rude. You shouldn’t.”
“I’m just a rude girl.” Amber stares into his face, her eyes big and round. “And I know who you are, but I still think you’ve got a gorgeous penis. I can appreciate it, you know. I’m only making a comment.”
“Wuh-why are we doing this, Amber?”
The girl looks at him, puzzled. “Doing what?”
Jonathon gulps, his eyes moving over her body. He stares at the wisps of fair hair down between her legs.
“God, Amber,” he croaks, “I don’t know what it is we’re doing.”
“Neither do I,” the girl says with a shrug and a giggle. “It makes me feel all squirmy,” she adds. “It’s like I’m being very naughty. I know I really shouldn’t keep looking at your cock. But I feel so tickly inside. I can’t help it. I want to touch myself.”
“Amber! Jesus, no, what the hell are you saying?”
“I don’t know,” mewls his daughter, blinking as she keeps on staring at his tumescence.
“Stop looking,” he says, reaching for his clothes. “This is insane. What was I thinking?”
“Don’t!” she cries out, her voice so shrill it stills Jonathon’s hand in mid-air. “Don’t make this into something dirty. It’s my fault; I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything about … about…”
Amber nods to her father’s erection.
“…About that. Please don’t be angry with me. I’m sorry. Can’t we start again? Can I sit next to you so we can look at the view?”
There’s a voice inside his head telling him to put on his clothes and get his arse down the hill and into the cottage.
Don’t do it, it says. You’re playing with fire.
But Jonathon still finds himself sitting side-by-side with his daughter, both of them naked, except for the girl’s shoes.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, leaning against him.
Then his arm goes around her, the touch of her skin under his palms inflaming his need.
Amber gurgles, “What are you doing?”
“You’re just so bloody lovely,” he breathes, his hand stroking the silky skin of his daughter’s inner thigh.
“Oh, daddy,” moans Amber, legs going wide. “Are you going to touch me?”
1976
She’s sitting on the edge of the two-seater sofa, her father standing directly in front.
Amber looks up into his face, her fist working his length. She says, “I wanted to do this when we were up on the hill,” then purses her lips around his bell-end.
“Oh lord, oh no,” mutters her father. He boggles down at where she’s sucking his cock, a hand working down at his root. “My baby,” Jonathon groans. “This is so bloody wrong.”
“Shut up, I love it,” the girl moans before licking his shaft from the tip to Jonathon’s balls. “I’m so fucking randy,” she gasps. “I’ve been waiting and hoping…”
It’s the last time he’ll put up any form of resistance. And at best it’s a feeble attempt. Jonathon looks down to where his daughter slurps at his dick, her tongue enthusiastic as she laps at the big dome, moans coming up from her throat.
“You have to stop it now, Amber. This is too much. We’ve gone too far this time. If it keeps going we’ll … We’ll…”
Her eyes flash with desire as she cranks at his length, a hand going down between her thighs. “What is you want to say, daddy?” she taunts. “Were you going to say we’ll only end up fucking?”
“Oh shit, don’t say it that way,” he groans.
Amber grins and holds her father’s eyes with her gaze as she gives his cock-end a slow, lascivious lick. “What if I tell you I want to fuck this time? How about that, daddy?” she drawls. “What about it? This time I want you to put it in. I want you to FUCK me.”
“Oh, Amber, my sweet baby girl,” Jonathon groans, then shoots a huge squirt of cum in a high arc over her head.
1973
Her fluff is soft under his fingers, his daughter’s folds slick with arousal when Jonathan fumbles between Amber’s legs, her gasp coming up when he finds her bean.
“Oh, daddy,” groans Amber, hips shunting back and forth while she gawps down at herself, chin on her chest.
The heels of her plimsolls rest on the blanket, knees wide apart as the girl gurgles and gasps, blinking into Jonathon’s face, eyes glazing over.
He puts a finger inside her, with Amber’s head lolling loose, ponytail brushing the grass as she leans back and takes her weight on her palms, arms straight and locked at the elbows.
Amber groans, “Put another one in,” then sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. “Please,” she adds on a long, drawn out moan while she leans forward to clamp her fingers over her father’s wrist.
She holds him in place, grinding her sex onto his hand, snorting and mewling delight into the high summer sky.
Then Jonathon kisses his daughter, his tongue going in between her lips as she gasps into his open mouth.
“You can’t put it in,” Amber mumbles, wall-eyed with pleasure. “I’m not on the pill. We can’t do it, dad.”
The girl pulls away from Jonathon’s hand, leaving the digits tacky with her essence, her father unable to resist sniffing his daughter’s arousal.
“Rub it over my twat,” Amber urges her father. She leans back and opens her legs, splaying her sex with her fingers. “Rub it over here,” she tells him, the tip of a finger slipping over her clit, the nub all fleshy and pink. “But please, don’t put it in. I don’t want to get pregnant.”
The torture is exquisite agony. The temptation is to throw caution to the wind. It’s so difficult not to succumb and simply plunge into his daughter, sinking into her body up to his balls.
In that wild, heady moment, Jonathan is willing to accept the risk of flooding the girl with his seed. He’s hovering over her torso, watching her face as it twists into a mask of agonised ecstasy, sobs coming out, her abdomen tensing, her breasts rolling around.
He slips the keel of his cock through her vulva, somehow resisting the near overwhelming urge to slide his whole length inside her.
“Amber, oh darling,” Jonathon moans, emotion swelling his throat. “You’re gorgeous, so lovely … My sweetheart, you’re so bloody divine.”
“Play with it, dad,” Amber says on a gurgle, shoving her heels at the blanket. She scoots back from her father and fingers her sex, eyes on the length of his cock. “Let me watch you,” she moans. “You watch me at the same time. If you keep on rubbing it over my nubbin, I’ll only want you to put it inside me.”
“I want to put it inside you,” Jonathon grunts, shuffling on his knees towards his daughter.
“No!” Amber cries, a hand covering her sex. “You can’t. We can’t risk it. I couldn’t bear it if you put a baby in there.”
So he has no choice but to tug at himself, teeth gritted against the need to force her hand aside and just go at her cunt.
“You’re incredible, Amber,” Jonathon moans when the girl squeals out that she’s coming.
Then he lets it all go. Jonathon gives it all up and submits to the overwhelming surge, his spunk raining down onto the blanket.
“Oh!” Amber yelps when a gobbet of cum lands on her thigh. “Oh God, look at it all.” She blasts out a laugh and rolls her eyes, still juddering and moaning as her climax rolls on. “That’s so bloody dangerous. If you’d done that inside me…”
And, despite her real-life aversion, Amber’s orgasm bursts inside her again at the thought of taking all of that gloop into her body.
*
He’s appalled and ashamed, disgusted with himself. Even as his daughter writhes and moans, now the rush has left him and he’s purged of semen, Jonathan cannot believe what he’s done.
“Amber,” he gasps as his daughter continues to shudder and whine. Jonathon sees the blob glistening on his daughter’s skin, the disgust rising inside him. “No, oh Jesus, no,” he sobs down at the blanket. “We didn’t … We can’t have. Shit, please let this all be a dream.”
But it isn’t a dream, it’s completely real, the full horror of sin like a blow to the stomach.
“Stop it,” he croaks, aghast as he watches his daughter writhe in her pleasure. “Get dressed. Cover yourself.”
Jonathan is up on his feet, acutely aware his cock is waggling around, the damned thing at half-mast, the end dribbling his goo. He bends to tug at the blanket, spilling his daughter onto the grass in a confusion of food and bottles and plastic containers.
“Will you just fucking STOP IT!” Jonathon yells, throwing the blanket over the girl.
“Dad, please!” Amber cries in response, shocked back into the moment.
But her father is having none of it. He’s hauling on his jeans, fingers at the zip and the button as he fumbles to fasten himself up.
He gets back down on his knees, stuffing items into the rucksack, mindless to order, just wedging everything in.
“Get dressed,” Jonathan hisses, jaw tight as he glares at the girl. “This didn’t happen – you hear me?” He points at his daughter, the cords on his neck stark as knife blades as he spits out his next words. “Never mention this … this … this aberration to me ever again.” Jonathan’s hand scythes the air. “Never!” he says, eyes wide, his gaze intense as he stares at the girl. “I never want to discuss this. Do you understand me? Don’t talk about it at all. I never want to hear a mention of it, Amber. Not one fucking word…”
“But–” she begins.
“No!” shouts her father.
Jonathon glares around like a crazy man in a crowded place deciding who he’s going to stab first.
“I’ll be down in the cottage. Come back when you’re decent, but,” he goes on, a forefinger stabbing the air, “don’t you dare try to talk to me about this. Not a word. I bloody-well mean it. Not one fucking word, ever again.”
1976
His semen glistens on her shoulder and one of her breasts. Amber smears the stuff over her skin, spreading the glaze over her body while rising up from the sofa.
“Kiss me again,” she murmurs. “Like you love me,” she adds.
“I’ve always loved you, my sweetheart,” Jonathan replies.
The girl shrugs and puts her hands on his shoulders, rubbing her vulva against one of his thighs.
“Kiss me like you kiss a woman you want to be inside, daddy. Not like a daughter. I want to feel your tongue in my mouth. And this time I want to feel your cock moving inside me.”
Jonathon looks at the girl. “You’re doing it on purpose, aren’t you, Amber?”
“Doing what?” she asks with a frown.
“Teasing me. The way you’re speaking…”
“Of course I am, silly,” she says with a smirk. “Now please, just kiss me like I know you really want to.”
Jonathon’s chest heaves as he sighs. “I’m doomed, aren’t I?” he says.
“Charming,” says Amber, tilting her face up to her father. She scoops the nape of his neck with her hand. “Just fucking kiss me,” she mumbles.
1973
If he didn’t have the builders coming the following day…
If he didn’t need he income from a holiday let…
Jonathon curses and throws the rucksack into a corner of what his mother used to call the parlour, the room immediately inside the front door.
He storms through to the living room in search of something to soothe his torment. Jonathon intends to get totally blootered, in search of a bottle his late-father had put away. The old man’s penchant was whisky, the amber liquid burning Jonathon’s throat after he pours an over-generous measure into a tumbler. He thinks it best to guzzle the stuff down until he pukes on the floor. He thinks it will all be cathartic, absolving himself of his sin, or at least blocking the horror for a few hours.
“Jesus, that’s awful,” he coughs, wiping the back of one hand across his mouth. “You deserve to suffer,” Jonathon says to himself. “Just drink it.”
He dumps the glass down on a low coffee table which sits between two ancient arm chairs, then swigs at the upended bottle, forcing himself not to gag on the unaccustomed bite of the spirit.
“You bastard,” Jonathon gasps in response to the taste. “Oh fuck, this stuff is so vile.”
He slumps into a chair, the one his mother used on Saturday afternoons while she shouted at wrestling on the television. The bottle goes onto the table, next to the tumbler.
Jonathon stares at the blank screen of the TV, mind going back to more simple times growing up in the cottage.
Three or four minutes of thinking go by before he turns his head to see the whisky on the table. He grimaces and mumbles, “Oh fuck,” his stomach turning at the thought of taking another taste.
“Dad?” Jonathon hears from the doorway behind him. “Are you all right?”
Anger rises in a hot tide. Jesus, can’t you just leave me alone?
But when he turns and sees Amber’s forlorn expression, he softens and feels a rush of emotion.
“Oh, Amber, baby,” he moans. “I don’t know…”
*
He hears the floorboards creak. Then the latch lifts and the door opens.
“Are you asleep?” she asks, voice low and tentative – as though she’s afraid.
Jonathon sighs and blinks into the dark, levering upright in his bed.
“No,” he says as mixed emotions come at him.
He should tell her to go away, that would be the sensible thing to do, but then Jonathon recalls in vivid detail what they did up on the hill, and a dark part of him doesn’t want her to go.
He senses rather than sees her flit across the space between the door and the bed.
“What are you doing?” Jonathon croaks when the mattress gives under her weight.
“Nothing,” she whispers. “I promise I won’t do anything. I … I just want you to tell me it’s all going to be all right.”
Don’t do it. You’re a fool if you do. “Get in,” Jonathon says, lifting the sheet.
“Are you sure?”
“No,” he replies, then feels his daughter sliding into the bed.
Amber moves in close to cuddle her father.
She tells him, “I just want to sleep here with you.”
“It will be all right,” Jonathon gurgles, stroking her hair, his erection swift and savage beneath his flimsy pyjama bottoms.
“Oh, daddy, you’re hard,” mumbles the girl after shifting position.
Even though he’s aware she can’t see him, Jonathon nods. “I know,” he croaks. “And I know you shouldn’t be here, but I…
“Oh, Amber, I don’t want you to get out of this bed.”
The bed dips when his daughter rises upright.
“Yuh-you don’t have to go,” Jonathon says.
“I’m not,” she replies. “I’m just taking my night-dress off.”
*
“This is torture, Amber,” Jonathon groans. “I want to put it in. You’re so bloody lovely.”
Her confidence soars. Amber knows she has control as she works a slow hand up and down her father’s shaft.
“I want you to, too,” she tells him, squeezing in closer, her weight on her hip and an elbow while he lays flat on his back. “I could quite easily swing my leg over you…”
Her father groans when she whispers it into his ear.
In the dark, it’s easy to say things she wouldn’t dare say face-to-face in the light of day.
“…I could slide onto you, daddy. I know it would feel so nice inside me. You’re quite thick, aren’t you? I know you’d feel good stretching me open.
“But we can’t take the risk. I saw what you did up on the hill. It would be madness to let you do that inside me.”
“Oh baby,” he moans, hips working as he fucks up into her fist. “We shouldn’t be doing this. Jesus, you’re my daughter. This is so bloody wrong.”
“But you don’t want me to stop, do you?”
Jonathon groans when Amber’s hand moves faster, her mouth finding his, her hair brushing his face.
“No,” Jonathon gasps when the kiss finally breaks. “Fuck it,” he hisses, “of course I don’t want you to stop.”
In a surge of lust, Jonathon sits up, a hand going to the lamp next to the bed.
He growls, “Let me look at you, Amber. God, sweetheart, what a gorgeous girl you are.”
“You can’t put it inside me!” the girl squeaks when her father uses his size and strength to get her onto her back. “Daddy, please, don’t do it.”
He’s knelt between his daughter’s thighs, his hands on her knees as he forces her legs wide. Amber puts the protective hand down over her sex, covering herself while she stares at her dad, fear in her eyes.
“I’m not going to,” Jonathon says on a gasp.
“Then what–?” asks his daughter, a moan coming up through her chest when her father ducks in to lap at her bean, his tongue finding her clit.
“Daddy!” she squeaks, writhing her rump against the bed. “You’re licking me.”
“Yes, Amber, I know,” Jonathon says, easing down onto his front. “Open your legs. Let me get at you.”
His daughter complies, eyes round with shock as she looks down to see her own father lapping her sex.
“Oh yes please. Lick me like that. It’s lovely … Oh God, I love what you’re doing.”
Jonathon pushes the thoughts out of his head. The guilt and anguish can wait until it’s daylight. For now, for a few precious hours, it’s all about the girl and her body. He wants to taste her essence and hear her moan. He has no real clue how he’ll feel in the morning, but in the moment he just wants to let it all go.
He uses his fingers and tongue to devastating effect. Jonathon uses all the experience he’s gleaned in pleasing a woman. At forty-three years of age, he’s so far in advance of his daughter he has her squirming and gasping and snorting, her sex sluicing her need as she babbles on about how glorious it is to have her daddy lapping her vulva.
“I’m coming,” the girl squeaks. “Oh, daddy, you’re making me feel so good. Keep rubbing inside me. Oh God, it’s amazing…”
And then her judders begin, the girl squealing and moaning while she sobs out her pleasure.
Then, even as his daughter continues to squirm and make a fuss, Jonathon gets up on his knees. It takes a huge effort of will not to plunge into her body. He watches her climax, her face twisted with absolute delight, her opening right there for the taking.
“Jesus,” he grunts, fisting his cock. “Amber, my sweetheart, you’re so fucking lovely.”
It doesn’t take more than a few strokes of his hand before the stuff flicks out of his cock.
“You’re making a mess all over my tummy!” squeaks Amber, eyes snapping open when she feels his semen spatter over her skin.
Mindless to the gloop desecrating his daughter’s stomach and breasts, Jonathon slumps down onto her body. He holds himself off her with his elbows, gazing into her eyes while she stares up at him.
“We have to stop this,” Jonathon sighs. “I’m not going to be able to stop myself from … you know. If you keep tempting me this way, Amber, we’ll end up shagging…”
“Oh, daddy, just kiss me,” the girl sighs. “We can talk in the morning. Not now. Please, come down here and kiss me.”
1976
His hands move all over her body, their tongues slipping and sliding.
Amber eventually breaks away, stepping back a pace so she can smirk at her father.
“This time…” she says, gaze fixed on his face.
He knows what she means. Jonathon gulps and nods and mumbles a yes.
“I want it all this time,” says Amber, expression suddenly serious. She continues to hold her father’s attention. “I want you to love me properly.”
Jonathon can’t help but swallow heavily again. “Me too, sweetheart,” he murmurs.
Amber tells him, “I’ve made us a picnic.”
She turns, her father’s eyes going to her rump.
“I thought we could have it up on the hill?” she calls back over her shoulder while moving through to the kitchen.
“Are you putting some clothes on?” Jonathon asks.
Her laughter comes back through to the parlour. “It would be lovely to climb up there in nothing but my shoes. But I’d best put something on…”
There’s a pause before she adds, “…Something I can take off easily enough.”
Jonathon shivers with delicious anticipation when he hears her say it.
He calls out, “I’ll take my case upstairs.”
“We’re both in your old bedroom,” Amber shouts back.
The thought of sleeping with Amber through the night sends another ripple through Jonathon. “This is madness,” he sighs, hard with arousal.
He’s upstairs unpacking when Amber appears. “The picnic’s packed and ready to go. I’d better get dressed, hadn’t I, daddy?”
Jonathon looks at the girl, lust burning inside him. “We could just stay here,” he growls.
Amber chews on her bottom lip, gazing across at her father. She nods and says, “We could … But I’d like it better if we were up on the hill.”
Jonathon says, “Anything you want, darling,” biting down on the desire to go to his daughter to claim her.
The girl’s eyes slip away from his face, her cheeks blushing scarlet. “Our first time together,” she whispers.
Jonathon pauses in his unpacking. He’s got a shirt in his hand when he says, “Are you sure about this, Amber? Once it’s done we can never turn it back.”
The girl pouts and shrugs, her focus going back to his face. Her cheeks are still flushed when she answers with, “We’ve done enough already, dad. I’ve had you in my mouth. And remember that night,” her eyes flick to the bed, “when you kissed me between my legs and then made a mess all over my tummy?”
“Oh, sweetie, how could I ever forget.”
“Anyway, daddy, I’m sure.” Amber fixes her father with a determined look. “It’s what I want more than anything. I want to be with you. I want to feel you inside me.”
Jonathon’s insides slide with carnal desire. “Then let’s get ready and go.” He throws a look at the wall, the end of the cottage closest to the hillside. “You get dressed, baby. Like you were last time we went up there.”
“You just want to see my arse hanging out of those shorts,” quips the girl.
“I don’t need to,” Jonathon says with a smirk. “I can look at your lovely bottom while you prance around in the nuddy.”
“Yes, you can. And you can touch it whenever you want as well. You can smack my arse too, if you like.”
Jonathon sucks in a breath. “You better get covered up. Or we’ll never get out of this room.”
*
The curve of his daughter’s buttocks hangs out of her shorts. He sees she’s bare under the tank-top, breasts rolling beneath the thin fabric as she climbs over the wire near the road.
Jonathon is over the fence and following on a few paces behind, his stare set on Amber’s bottom while she strides up the gentle slope towards where the hill gets suddenly steeper.
His mind is in turmoil, society’s convention uppermost in his head. It’s so wrong, what they’re doing. They’ve already broken so many rules, but he knows he should still call it off. After all, putting his dick inside his own daughter is about as wicked as it can get. And as he’d said, there’s no going back once it’s been done.
Jonathon feels the weight of the pack on his back, his focus going to the girl’s thighs and those shorts moulded to her round globes.
“Ah bollocks,” he mutters, finally fully accepting the fact he’s about to commit a serious transgression against morality. “Just look at that arse…”
There’s no way he’s going to resist it once they get to their spot and his daughter gets naked.
A few more minutes of climbing sees the pair arrive at the outcrop of rock. Amber dumps her burden and immediately strips out of the tank-top, sitting herself down on the grass so she can get the shorts over her clumpy walking boots.
“Hurry up, dad,” she says to her father, going to the bag for the blanket.
“Duh-don’t you want to eat first?” Jonathan asks with a stutter, nervous now the moment is on him.
His daughter fixes him with a smirk, eyes glittering with mischief as she lewdly declares, “Only your wonderful cock.”
Even after all they’ve done together, it’s still a shock to hear his daughter speak in such obscene terms.
“Amber,” he gasps. “I don’t like to hear you speak that way.”
The girl’s head goes back as she laughs. “We’re going to fuck, daddy. We’re going to shag and you’re bothered about me swearing?” She rolls her eyes at her father. “I’ve been married, dad, I’ve fucked before.”
“It just doesn’t seem right,” Jonathan says, looking out over the landscape below.
“Come on,” coos Amber, leaving the blanket while she goes to her father. “Get undressed. Let’s not waste any more time. I want you inside me. I want to kiss while we do it.”
Her mouth locks onto his, with Jonathon moaning, his hands all over her skin, arousal a hot surge through his core.
Next thing Jonathon is aware of is his daughter freeing his cock, the thing as stiff as iron, her fist cranking its length.
Amber mumbles and moans, getting down onto her knees so she can swirl her tongue around the big purple dome. Then she goes for his laces, eager to get her father out of his boots and his jeans and his tee-shirt.
It’s a frantic couple of minutes, the girl tearing at Jonathon’s clothes while she rubs her sex with one hand, mewls of anticipation coming out of her mouth, her breath coming in short, urgent gasps.
“Oh God, daddy, we’re actually going to do it.”
Amber is standing, her hand on his length, fisting his cock while she gazes into his face.
“Won’t you lick it first?” Amber squeals, spreading the blanket before lying down on her back. Legs going wide. “Please, daddy, kiss my cunt. Make it feel good.”
He gasps at the word, boggling at the sight of his girl all swollen and scarlet, her clit all shiny with the arousal she’s smeared over the nub.
She groans when he flicks at her sex and slips a finger into her body.
*
Her desire is slick on his tongue. Jonathon tastes his daughter’s arousal, her moans and gasps sending desperate need pulsing through his cock.
Jonathon shoves up from her body, looking at the girl’s face while he asks, “Amber, you’re sure…?”
“Yes, daddy, I am.” The girl levers up onto her elbows to regard her father along the front of her body. “Put it in now,” she urges. “I’m so ready for you.”
Jonathon experiences a clench of trepidation deep in his guts. He stares into his daughter’s eyes, a burst of love exploding within when he sees her expression. “I love you,” he gurgles, moving up onto his knees.
“Oh, daddy,” she squeaks, shifting her backside around on the blanket. Amber holds herself splayed with the tips of her fingers, leaning in to reach for her father’s length. “Oh, you’re so hard,” says the girl, stroking the shaft with an underhand grip.
Holding her bottom lip between her teeth, Amber shoves forwards, holding her father steady, the cock-head nudging her body.
“Oh Jesus, oh fuck,” mumbles the girl, her gaze flicking up into Jonathon’s face.
“My baby,” he gasps in response to the heat of her vulva. “Sweetheart, we’re really going to do it.”
“Yes, daddy, I know,” she groans, smearing the bulb over her sex. “I want it to last forever.”
Her eyes go round when she takes half her father’s length into her body.
“It’s you!” she cries, gulping while staring at where she’s accommodating his cock.
“Darling, we’re…” Jonathon gasps. “My gorgeous girl. I can’t believe I’m doing this with you.”
Amber puts a hand onto his shoulder, concentration tight on her face as she thrusts her hips to take all of him in.
She lets out a low chuckle, still looking down at their conjunction.
“Keep still,” mutters Amber, “let me feel all of you there.”
“I can’t, sweetheart,” her father sobs in reply. “I … I need to move. I can’t keep still. It feels so bloody lovely doing this with you.”
Amber is suddenly vehement, snarling at him to, “Get on with it then. Just fuck me.”
And then they’re moving together, passion flaring between them, his mouth going down until the girl is sobbing and moaning through the kiss.
It goes through cycles, heated and wild at first until Jonathon looks at her face, love a long slide of emotion. It seems Amber senses his mood, her frantic work with her pelvis slowing as she gulps and gurgles her pleasure.
The pair don’t say a word, they just gaze at each other, Jonathon’s slow glide telling his daughter just how he feels. Somehow, with her subtle clenching and the look in their eyes, the couple communicate all that they’re feeling as they love in the moment. Nothing else matters, the world doesn’t exist. For them it’s all in their love.
Then the girl lets out a groan, thrusting up hard, the soles of her boots down on the blanket.
“Fuck me,” she gurgles, pulling him in for yet another hot, frantic kiss, the sound of their joining a slick, liquid squelch.
They rut for a few minutes, both of them moaning and babbling nonsense, with Jonathon wondering how it got to be he’s inside his daughter up on the hillside.
“This is never going to stop, is it?” he gasps, staring down at the girl’s breasts rolling and shivering as he shoves up onto straight arms and goes at her with determined vigour.
“The fucking or love?” Amber replies, not really knowing what she’s just said.
She thinks she understands what he means, but is too close to her climax for the ideas to coalesce into anything solid. The issue of love is too complex for her to consider as lost in delight as she is. All Amber can fix on in those heady few minutes is the rush of her body and the orgasm she knows is hurtling towards her.
Her climax is like a train way down the tracks. She can’t see it approaching just yet, but knows the thing is on the way, and when it hits, the effects will be devastating.
“The love,” Jonathon moans in reply. “I’ve always loved you, of course,” he adds on a gasp, wincing and groaning and rolling his eyes. He’s up on his hands, his daughter’s legs folded at the knees, her chunky boots waving around as she rubs at her nub and squeaks out she’s close. “But,” adds the man, “this is love of a different kind.”
His daughter isn’t in the mood for romance in the moments before her orgasm hits home. She’s squeaking and snorting and carrying on, hips working hard while she digs her nails into Jonathon’s torso. “Just fuck me,” she snorts, the tingles coming up from her toes. “Oh, daddy, I’m going to come.”
*
He takes Amber through it. Jonathon somehow hangs on, his shaft continuing to slide in and out of the girl. Even as she writhes and squirms and gulps and snarls, Jonathon keeps up the momentum, fucking into her body while she rubs at her clit and squeals out about how good it feels to come on her own father’s dick.
He’s stunned by the violence, shocked by the stream of profanity pouring out of the girl as she continues to judder and wail, both her hands mauling her breasts.
Then, finally, eventually, Amber sucks in a deep breath, blinking up at her father, the occasional shudder rippling her body.
“Oh bloody hell, daddy,” she gasps. “Is that what it’s going to be like?”
Jonathon slows down on the thrusting, moving down to rest on his elbows, his hips slowly working.
“Is what going to be like?”
“This … thing between us. Is it always going to be so intense? That was incredible. I can still feel myself sparking.”
It’s the first time Jonathon has considered the future. He was so wrapped up in the moment he didn’t think about the consequences of beginning an incestuous affair.
He experiences a moment of panic in realisation at the enormity of what they’ve just done. They can never go back – but what’s in the future?
“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, looking down into her eyes. “I … I don’t know what’s going to happen.”
Amber gazes at her father for several long seconds before she pouts and gives a heave with her pelvis.
“Will you get behind me now, daddy?” she asks, rolling onto her side. “Spoon me,” she says, lifting one leg and fingering her vulva. “Put it in from back there. This time I want to love.”
Concerns melt away when he hears Amber’s groan. Jonathon slides into his daughter, his arms encircling her brisket as she leans up on one elbow, her buttocks compressing against him when they begin to move slowly together.
Jonathon’s hands are cupped over her breasts, the girl craning round to offer her tongue.
“Kiss me,” she purrs, an arm reaching round so she can pull his head closer.
*
It’s the sight of her hips and buttocks as much as the sensations caressing his cock. Jonathon looks at his daughter and sees her feminine shape as she pushes back onto his dick, her hands on the blanket, knees together, her oyster split by his girth.
“Baby,” Jonathon grunts, the surge an irreversible rush.
“Do it inside me,” his daughter replies on a moan. “Let me feel you do it, dad. Don’t worry. You can flood me with love.”
And with that, Jonathon groans and thrusts hard for a few strokes. He bellows with pleasure and probes in deep, the glorious release rushing out, his seed spurting into his daughter’s body.
“Amber, I’m coming,” he moans.
“Yes, daddy, I know,” gurgles the girl.
Spain 1996
Vincente sees the couple come in. He stands and moves around his desk, an arm extended.
The man shakes the proffered hand, the lady leaning in to accept the mandatory air-kisses to both cheeks.
“Jonathon, Amber!” Vincente says, his enthusiasm only part-way professional as he eyes the lithe blonde. “So good to see you again. What can I do for you this time?”
“More property, please,” says Amber.
Vincente pouts and nods. “Excellent,” he says, secretly wondering what her body is like under the loose cotton dress. He throws a look at Jonathon and feels a pang of envy. Vincente knows the man is at least two decades her senior. And such a beautiful woman, he thinks, his cock stirring as he imagines her spread naked on pristine white sheets.
“The business is doing well,” puts in Jonathon, snapping the Spaniard out of his reverie.
Vincente spreads his hands and smiles, remembering to focus at least some of his attention on the older man. “You are renting well?” he asks.
“Most of the places are full a lot of the time. We’re selling the places in England,” he adds.
“Except for the cottage,” Amber puts in. “It was our first project together,” she says to Vincente when her husband lets out a snort and a smile. “It was my husband’s home when he was young. It has significant sentimental value.”
Vincente nods and says, “I understand.” He throws a smile to the lady and continues with, “And how are the boys?”
“Almost grown up,” Jonathon says, glancing at Amber. “I don’t know where the time has gone.”
Vincente nods again. “Si,” he says. “Muy rapido.”
This time Amber interjects with, “So, about business. Are there any places you can recommend?”