She pulled slightly away, panting from the urgency of her need. She had never felt like this with another boy. Everything had been Lukewarm and clumsy compared to the fiery heat she felt with Josh, and the skill of his artist's hands.

“How..." she trailed off.

“How do you want to do this, Daddy?" She smiled as his breath caught, the lure of the forbidden becoming apparent in that one innocent word.

I should get a schoolgirl outfit. And maybe do my hair up in pigtails.

Damn, I bet that would get him worked up. And pitch my voice an octave higher. I bet he would explode right there in his pants. She filed away the thought for future reference.

“I want what you want, Sarah," he replied.

“This is our first time. I want you to remember it.”

“Oh, I think I will," she said. "I mean, it's not every day a girl makes love to her own father." She backed carefully up onto the bed, than lay down, her thighs spread, her hands framing the lips of her pussy. She ran a finger up her lips, gathering some of her moisture on a fingertip, then licked it seductively.

“Come on, Daddy. Make love to me. I need you." She held out a hand, trying to hide the way it shook in anticipation.

"You're evil," Joshua smiled. His eyes were fond as he he clambered onto the bed and swooped down for a kiss. "You remind me of someone."

“Mom?”

"No," he said, sinking until the fabric of his shorts touched her aching cleft, teasing her with his hardness. "Me."

He knelt up, pulling off the Last thing separating her from what she most desired, and her eyes widened as his cock came into view. For days she had imagined it, her stomach churning in desire and shame. But now it was hers.

No. Not mine. Ours. Mine. And Mom's. But I'm willing to share for now.

Although her father had assured her the sculpture of himself and Rachel was as close to reality as he could make it, Sarah suddenly wondered if he hadn't, perhaps, actually understated his size. His erect penis certainly seemed larger now, when it was looming in her view, than when it been simply another cold piece of bronze in her father's workshop.

Red-headed and turgid, it bobbed in front of his stomach, the swollen tip seeping fluid as it brushed the sandy blond hair that surrounded his navel. She reached out hesitantly, wrapping her fingers around the shaft, wondering at the feel of it as it filled her hand. It reminded her of warm velvet over a hot, steely core. She tried a few slow pumps, and stopped, startled, as his breath escaped in a hiss.

“Sarah, you know I love you, but if you don't stop I'm going to blow all over your hand."

“And why would that be bad?" she asked, batting her lashes winsomely.

“Because you would have to wait until I was ready to go again. At my age, that might take me...at least fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty."

“Hmph, she grumbled.

“Not my problem. Besides," she smiled, caressing the wonderful hot length of him. "I wouldn't wait. I'd just make you eat me out again. Or play with my titties, since you like them so much." She cupped a breast in her hand, her thumb grazing the taut nipple.

“But if you insist," she sighed melodramatically, "I'll let you fuck me. Now.”

She pulled him closer, her hand guiding him towards her cleft. At her entrance, he paused, and for one horrified moment she thought he was going to pull away and leave her, empty and alone. But he merely used that small space of time to rub his head on her lips, coating his cock with her fluids, before entering her in one long, slow thrust.

Her eyes widened and her heart pounded, her pulse throbbing in her temples. He fit. He fit as if he had been made for her. No boy she had ever been with had ever given her this sense of completion. As if they were two halves that, when joined, created a greater whole.

Of course, the part of her that never stopped thinking said, it's not as if Sam or Micah ever gave me a chance. They started humping away as if they were scared I was going to change my mind.