It was out of the blue, Amanda, our daughter, invited us over for an evening meal. We hadn’t done that in so long, ever since she turned twenty and took up with her current husband. We don’t exactly get on that well but fortunately, he was out of town that evening on business. We jumped at the chance.

We arrived at six that evening, hugged and kissed each other and stood in the kitchen just chatting, there were loads of questions that needed answering and the one burning question that my wife kept going on about was the patter of tiny feet.

Amanda was good at avoiding those sorts of questions and told her mother that it was true and that they were thinking of getting a dog. It seemed to have done the trick.

I helped with the Bolognese sauce, by stirring it now and then while Amanda saw to the more complicated pasta side of things. Belinda, my wife rummaged around looking for some wine but didn’t find any to her liking. She’s a posh bugger, and only ever looks at a half-decent bottle of wine.

“I think I’ll pop down to the local shop to find a couple of bottles of wine,” she announced.

Amanda just raised her eyebrows and I smiled.

“What’s wrong with the bottles that are under the stairs,” Amanda said.

“Nothing, darling,” came the reply. “I just fancy something fruitier.”

“I’ll think I’ll go down to that good wine shop, it should still be open.”

“Mother, that’s twenty minutes there and back, the food is nearly ready.”

“Put a hold on the pasta then, I won’t be long,” she added, before picking up the car keys and heading out the door.

Amanda sighed.

A few minutes passed before I started grinning at Amanda.

“What?” she said.

I shook my head and bit my lip.

“Shall we find out?”

“Find out what?”

“Whether you're knickerless.”

It was Amanda’s turn to raise her eyebrows and grin. She stood next to the Bolognese sauce and stirred it with a wooden spoon as my hand reached down, under her skirt, and slid along her bare thighs. My fingers touched her wet cunt. It was like the fluids were cascading down a waterfall.

She let out a loud moan while pushing her bottom back onto my hand.

“You’re such a dirty slut to be my daughter,” I told her.

“Yes, daddy,” she replied. “My cunt loves those fingers in there.”

Those words made me groan. I pressed my body against hers, pushing her closer to the cooker. I squeezed her bottom and pushed my fingers around and onto her pussy before pushing them into her cunt.

“You planned this, didn’t you,” I whispered in her ear. “You bought the cheapest wine and invited us over for a meal, didn’t you?”

“Yes, daddy,” came the reply.

“What would your mother think of that? Tell me.”

I could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

“I’ve been so naughty, daddy.”

“Yes, you have. And you know what happens to naughty girls, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Especially those with very wet pussies.”

My daughter nodded.

I turned her around, her tits bounced before me, I pulled my fingers to my mouth and licked on one of them before offering the other two to her. She voraciously sucked on them in front of her father. My other hand grappled with my trousers and zip and I released my cock from my trousers just as her knees were reaching the floor.

She let out a loud sigh when her tongue caressed my balls. She pulled my cock down to her level and I watched, avidly, as her lips covered my glans. Eating my meat like it was her last meal.

She must have swallowed my cock several times before I lifted her from the floor by her ponytail. I practically half-dragged her across the kitchen and planted her on the table, already laid with the dishes we would eat from.

I lifted her dress over her bottom and spanked her hard.

“That’s for being untruthful to your mother,” followed by a resounding slap of her buttocks.

“That’s for making me check that you were wearing no knickers.” Another slap followed.

“And this is for teasing your father, licking his cock and bending over this table.” I proceeded to give her six of the best on each buttock.

I spread her cheeks wide and plunged my head between her buttocks. I licked at her little star before wallowing in the heat and wetness of her pussy. My tongue plunged into her cunt and I ate out my daughter while she was face down on the kitchen table.

She needed it. I needed it. It had been so long, several years in fact. Ever since she got married.

My mouth, lips and tongue pleasured her juicy cunt. By the time I stood up, she was dripping onto the floor. I slapped her cunt a few times with the flat of my hand.

“You are such a slut, Amanda,” I told her.

“For you, daddy, yes.”

“You know what happens to slutty daughters, don’t you.”

“Yes, daddy. Please, daddy.”

I could hear the desperation in her voice. I was left in no doubt and wasn’t going to let my little girl down, and besides, my cock was now rock hard and aching to be inserted into her wet and waiting cunt.

“Oh, fuck!” I groaned. I pushed my dick in, my hands resting on her shoulders, pulling her back towards me to get that last inch right inside her.

Amanda moaned out loud.

“Fuck me, daddy. Fuck me so hard.”

How could a father ever let his daughter down when she pleads with him in that tone of voice? How could a father not give his little girl what she wanted?

I let my cock slide from her, grasped her shoulders and slammed it back in.

Amanda yelped.

“Yes, yes, give it to me daddy, take your little girl’s cunt and fuck it.”

And fuck it I did. Every thrust was hard and deliberate. Every thrust pushed all the way home causing an incessant buildup of pleasure deep inside her body. Every thrust of my hard cock pounded her making my dick harder with every stroke.

“Daddy, I’m cumming, daddy, I’m cumming…” She almost screamed out the words.

Words that I loved to hear and have always loved to hear ever since she was sixteen. Yes, she’s been daddy’s slut since she was sixteen.

I pounded into her and made her cum until she was crying on the table, begging me to stop. I didn’t stop, I just took more orgasms from her until she couldn’t move any longer. I filled her up with spunk, but then my daughter was always good at draining her father’s balls.

I pulled my cock out of her.

“There, that should satisfy your mother’s need for grandchildren,” I joked.

Amanda didn’t say anything. She lifted herself off the table, slowly turned to me and smiled.

“We’ve been trying,” she said, biting her lip, “but Gary has problems.”

I couldn’t think of anything to say.

The food was all but ready. “Fuck it. Let's eat,” I said.

We dished up our servings. I opened a bottle of cheap wine and we ate and chatted and sipped the wine.

Belinda appeared just as we were finishing off.

“I’m back,” she shouted from the door.

She looked at us sitting at the kitchen table with empty plates.

“We’ve eaten already,” I said, with a hint of a smile on my face. “We couldn’t wait any longer,” I added. “It was hard waiting for you, so we just went ahead with the cheap wine.”

My wife didn’t seem phased by it at all. And it was only when I looked down at her feet that I saw what she was standing in. Cunt juice.

I wonder what would have happened if I had told her the truth. That I had taken her daughter over the very table she was about to eat off, but only after she sucked her father’s cock.

-=-=-=-

Years later we sat playing with our ten-year-old grandchild on the beach. A smile on my wife’s face as she watched us kick a ball between us. Amanda was getting the ice creams from the nearby van. As we approached them, something made my ears prick. It isn’t always the obvious words that make you understand something, it’s what is not said that makes you realise the intent.

I heard Amanda say to her mother, “thank you for everything.” She kissed her on the cheek, handed her an ice cream cone, and then handed  Roger and me one. His presumed father a distant memory and one he never really knew after their divorce.

It started me wondering, and I started looking at my wife in a different light and with some trepidation.