My daughter's pregnant belly rose and fell as she worked her hips slowly on my dick. We were enraptured before the fireplace, bathing in its warm glow when the desire took us. Kat's breasts were swollen and her nipples were hard. Her eyes glittered down on me, mirroring the Christmas lights left behind by my wife. We were free, and, in our freedom, we were in love.

Kat's head was rolled back onto her shoulders in desperate pleasure, one hand resting on my chest. I was enthralled with her, lost in her.

She leaned over me and our lips came together. I held her ass and thrust up into her until her legs began to shake and I rolled her off of me. I took control, holding her legs apart and driving into her until she screamed, unrestrained, into the rafters.

When she finished, Katherine curled up into me, one leg over my waist, one hand resting near my wet cock. I threw a blanket over us and we rested by the fire, feeling the thick comfort of sleep overcome us.

It went like this for the two weeks Agatha was gone. She'd called on the morning after she boarded the plane to tell us that her mother was dying, would be gone within the month, and that she was going to stay with her for as long as she could. I answered the phone still lying in Katherine's bed, her naked legs entwined with mine. Kat laid kisses on my neck while I consoled my wife. I'd met her mother only a few times and knew her to be a good woman, very close with her daughter. I was sad for Agatha and, for the first time, guilty.

I knew that I had betrayed my wife, my vows, and maybe my soul to be with my own daughter. I knew that I had been wronging both of them for all these months while I dithered on with the two of them, and would wrong my wife further because I had made my choice.

The cause of Agatha's exodus from our lives hung like a shadow over our freedom but Katherine, with soft lips, golden hair, and round, pregnant belly, was there, like the sun, to chase it away. Even as I hung up the phone that morning and turned to see my Katherine lying in a pool of dawn light on the bed beside me in my own home, the feelings of guilt began to retreat and Agatha's presence, lingering on like a shadow on a door frame, too began to subside.

It faded with the passing of each day, summoned up again when she would call every day or two with news from her family. I would retreat to the porch, to stand in the cold like a guilty smoker, to talk with her away from Kat. When I returned, I would always find her in bed, waiting to chase away my wife's persistent ghost.

Our relationship grew time to breathe, to become simple and easy. Sneaking around her college and our home had a certain exciting charm to it, a thrill. But now, it was easy kisses and quiet moments. A quiet real love that had grown beyond lust.

In the mornings, Kat and I woke together, dressed together, and ate together. We spent our days laughing and playing and our nights wrapped in each other's naked arms. I would awake in the middle of the night in fear of discovery, only to remember our paradise and to enter her, fucking her until she awakened to gasp and moan beneath me.

She would find me out in the yard, stacking firewood or walking the fence line, and draw me back inside to the warmth, into her warmth

Five days into our vacation—as we had come to think of it—Christmas came. It snuck up to our house with a blanketing snow that thawed and froze hard. The house became an igloo overnight, sealing shut the doors and windows.

Kat and I had slept naked with her tucked into me and our growing baby swaddled inside of her, as had become our custom.

When morning came, I crept out of bed, leaving Katherine breathing easily in her girlhood bed. When her mother was alive, I would make pancakes for Christmas day, leaving both of my girls to sleep until the smell of crackling bacon woke them. The tradition lapsed when she died. Now, it was like before only, instead of my wife greeting me from behind with breasts squeezed tightly to my back, it was her daughter laying kisses on me.

"Merry Christmas, daddy," Kat said gently.

She was wearing her pink bathrobe. Her belly was getting big now, too big to be contained by the robe. Glancing from the frying bacon to her chest, I could see the pink shadow of a nipple waiting for me. Kat made no attempt to hide it.

We ate our breakfast together and, as was the tradition in our family, walked the property. We crunched through the snow, checking the fences on the horse's paddock, making angels in the fallow fields, and hiking the little trail that ran down to the edge of the creek that marked the edge of my property. I'd been living on these few acres for more than half of my life, raised a family on it. It was a part of me. Kat had spent her whole life on it. Walking the property with her was seeing it through her eyes.

We took two pictures by the creek. One for Agatha and another just for me.

I sent my wife her Christmas text and put the phone on silent. For the rest of the day, I belonged to Katherine.

She cooked me dinner that day, blessed me with fond looks, and occasionally darted out from behind the stove with a kiss.

When she was finished, her face was flushed from the heat and the wine we'd been sipping since we returned from our walk. The food was a little burned and a little under-seasoned, but to me, it was delicious.

It wasn't until well after dinner, breaking with tradition, that we finally exchanged gifts.

In truth, it had been on my mind all day—the little, unwrapped package I had stowed on the mantle for her. My heart beat in my chest to think of it.

But Kat revealed her gift first, and, soon, all thoughts of my own present were gone from my mind.

"I couldn't get away to buy you anything," she said, shyly. "You never let me drive your car."

Kat mounted me, shrugging off her T-shirt to reveal her pale, naked body and the curve of her belly, her enlarged breasts.

"So, I thought," she said. "I want you to have me. Whatever part of me you want. I'm yours."

"You're mine," I echoed, burying my face in her breasts.

"Like," she said, biting her lip. "You could fuck my ass if you want to."

Something tightened in my chest. I reached around to Kat's back and slid my hands down into her sweatpants until I held one cheek in each hand. It was soft but firm. I pinched and her face contorted with a giggle of pain. My finger found the tight button in the center and pushed through.

"You want me to fuck your ass, Kitty?" I said.

"Yes, daddy," Kat panted.

I pulled down the elastic band of her pants until her ass was exposed.

"Has anyone," I paused, wondering if I wanted to know. "Done that before?"

"No," Kat said.

"You aren't lying to me?"

Kat paused. "Someone has," she admitted.

I slapped her ass in mock reproach. Then again, harder and for real when the thought intruded. Who? Hunter? That, I would not ask.

I hit her again and she whimpered. I slipped Kat off my lap and pulled her back down, laying her across my lap.

"Yes, daddy," she said. "Punish me."

I spanked her again, harder this time. It brought to mind other spankings and disagreements about corporal punishments with her mother. I spanked her once more, leaving behind a red handprint. She yelped.

"Daddy," she breathed. I hit her once more, then left my hand on her ass, kneading the raw flesh.

We'd never done this before. Now, I felt as though I were in control. And I felt like her father, more so than I had before. Somehow, when we had sex, Kat melted into her mother and became another person, someone I could love physically. Now, I felt the wrongness of what we did. And still, I was hard.

I let my thumb slip over her asshole, rotating it until I could press down to the knuckle. Kat drew in her breath. I drew out my thumb, pushed her onto the couch next to me, and replaced it with my tongue.

She lurched forwards and let out a little squeak. I delved deeper with my tongue, tasting her and probing her pussy with my fingers. It wasn't long before she was dripping onto our couch and I had pushed her face down to press myself into her ass.

This was a place I had never been before, not even with Kat's mother. She was tight, and, though I went slow at first, Kat was practically screaming, balling her hands into fists and stuffing throw pillows into her mouth.

Slut, I thought. Fucking your father. Giving your ass to your father. Slut.

The thoughts came unbidden to my mind, reminding me of Hunter, reminding me of that day I watched her in the barn. My cock was digging into her, punishing her. Punishing me.

At first, Kat only whimpered as I hit her and fucked her. But, as I built up power and her asshole yielded itself to me, she began to scream with each of my thrusts, back arching.

I held her by her hair, her throat.

"Yes," she choked out. "Yes, yes!"

When, quickly, I felt my pleasure burning inside of me, I turned my daughter over and pinned her down, spraying her chest and belly with cum.

Afterward, Kat wrapped herself naked in my arms. We lay there in the afterglow of the moment and the warmth of the fire for a long time before she spoke.

"Daddy," she said. "I've been thinking about something."

Something in her voice told me it was trouble.

"What is it, sweetie?"

She took a long, slow breath.

"What are we doing?" she said. "What's the endpoint? Where are we going from here?"

"We're in love," I said. "Whatever happens, we're together, right?"

In this, I was the child. I knew what she was afraid of, what could happen, but I refused to face it.

"You have to leave her."

"I said I would."

"That's not enough," she said. "You have to do it and even then..."

I got up, pushing her gently aside, and plucked my gift to her off the mantle where I'd hidden it. I turned around, still naked, and knelt before her.

The ring was small, but it glittered in the firelight. Kat's eyes filled. One hand fell over her mouth, the other over her swollen belly.

"Daddy," she said.

"I know there may never be a ceremony," I said. "But if you say yes, it will be true in my heart. That's enough."

She slipped to the floor with me, letting me slip the ring over her finger, and kissed me. She kissed me long and hard until I was hard again. Then, we coupled again, on the floor. This time, she rode me and I came inside her.

We'd abandoned the couch and she lay against my naked chest, sweating.

"Daddy," she said. I felt a tear drop onto my chest.

"I can't wear this."

"What?" My heart leapt. "Are you saying no?"

"No, but if she sees...." Kat slipped the ring off her finger and placed it on the floor beside us. "It's still not enough."

"Then, what do you want, Katherine?"

She was crying openly now. Her lower lip quivered.

"I want our baby to know who his daddy is," she said. "I don't want to keep this secret anymore."

"You know that can't happen."

"We could leave. We could leave here and change our names and be...be a family. We could be whoever we want."

Leave the farm. My life was here. My wife was buried here. Everything that I ever was has been confined behind my property fence since before I was even born.

"What about Light?" I said, searching. "We'd be poor. We'd have nothing."

"Light is a horse. You are my father and my lover and the father of my child."

Kat sat up and lifted herself with pregnant difficulty to the couch, pulling a t-shirt over herself.

"I've made my decision. You have to make yours," she said. "Me or the farm."