Best Part of the Day
Introduction:
Father and son bond over shared fantasies, and then make it a reality.
The cool quiet as he slides from his warm bed and pads downstairs toward the smell of coffee. He grabs two mugs by habit, yawning and stretching, scratching absently as he sets them on the counter before tugging the elastic band of his briefs under his full balls.
He yawns again as he cups his balls in his big hand, rolling them before he slides up the length of his cock. Already thick in his hand, he strokes himself as he imagines the sweet, pretty face of his little girl. The way sheâll look when she walks into the kitchen only minutes after the coffeeâs ready, all soft and sleep flushed. Her mouth unpainted and full, her eyes dark and unfocused, her tight little body dressed in a soft, thin tank top and shorts so that he can see every sweet line of her young lithe body.
He moans softly, thinking of how she leans against him, curling herself against him. Thinks of her happy little hum when she says, âLove you, daddy.â
He almost fumbles when he reaches for her mug, tipping the head of his cock just past the lip of it as he comes, emptying his balls with a soft grunt. He sighs a little as he shakes himself off, circling the rim of her mug with his cockhead and then tucking himself back in his briefs.
He tugs his robe closed and ties it as the coffee beeps its completion, then pours it evenly between the two mugs, doctoring them both with sugar. Heâs just taken a sip of his own before he turns and sees his son Brady, home on college break, his eyes wide and astonished.
âWhat-â he cuts himself off as his little sister scoots past him, her sleep warm body brushing against his, before she reaches for the mug in her fatherâs hand.
âMmmm,â she hums in pleasure as she takes a sip. âDaddyâs coffee is the best.â She stands on her toes to brush a kiss over her fatherâs jaw, then cuddles into his side, her free arm wrapped around his waist.
Brady blinks at his sister before he meets his dadâs eyes. Doug canât breath, his heart pounding in his chest, because he knows thereâs no way to explain away what happened. No chance he can lie himself out of it, because Brady is smart and stubborn and opinionated, and Doug has never felt anything but proud of his kid for that, but right now that just means that Brady could be very well plotting to send his old man to jail.
Except Brady just stands and watches, his eyes sliding back to watch Breanne take another sip; her pink tongue tracing over the rim of the mug before she makes another soft noise of pleasure.
Doug watches his sonâs face, sees his eyes go hot, and feels himself go warm with heady knowledge as Bradyâs eyes linger on the curve of his sisterâs breasts beneath her thin shirt, her puffy nipples, the bare length of her toned legs.
His shoulders go relaxed and he smirks as he steps up next to her, bumping against her side, ostensibly to grab a cup for himself. âSo how long have you been drinking coffee, Little B?â
âUgh,â she says, pushing him away. âI thought we were done with that nickname.â
âNever!â Brady exclaims, snatching his sisterâs coffee and tickling her sides, his hands grazing up over her breasts as Breanne squirms away.
Doug watches his son make his sister breathless. Watches their faces flush, and his sonâs eyes go dark. Feels his cock twitch when Bradyâs big hands, so like his own, slide over the soft skin of Breanneâs thighs.
âOkay, thatâs enough,â he calls out. âBreanne, youâve still got school today, so you better get going.â
âUgh,â she says again, rolling her eyes, but she untangles herself from her brother, then snatches up her coffee and heads upstairs.
Brady watches her go, then swivels his eyes toward his father. âSo,â he starts, leaning casually against the counter. âHow long has she been drinking coffee?â
***
It hadnât started with the coffee.
It started from going with her to get her first bra, and his first talk with her about boys. It had started with swimsuits going from frilly ruffles, to sleek one-pieces, to two scraps of clingy fabric.
âAbout a year ago,â is what Doug says. Breanneâs gone to school and the house is quiet. âI canât-I donât even know how to explain it. The first time it just…happened.â
âWhat, like you accidentally jerked it into your daughterâs cup and then watched her drink it? Come on, dad.â
âI was fucking horny, okay?â Doug stands up to pace, running a hand through his hair. âSheâd bumped into me when I was coming downstairs, rubbing up against me like a fucking cat in heat, and I rubbed one out in the kitchen. I grabbed the first thing I could so I didnât come all over everything, then poured myself some coffee to try to wake the fuck up.â
He slumps back down in his chair, remembering how it had felt that morning. To think of his teenage daughter that way. To think of her mouth, her body. To think of her hot little cunt wrapped around the length of his cock.
It hadnât been the first time heâd thought of her, but it had been the most vivid. It had been on purpose.
âI was fucking shaking because of the aftershocks and mortified, head down on the table. I couldnât even look up when Breanne came in, and I guess she thought Iâd been making a cup for her, and she just…poured some coffee in and drank it down.â Doug laughs tightly, because even thinking of it heâs getting hard again. How sheâd hummed in pleasure and licked her lips. âShe said it was the best coffee sheâd ever had and begged me to make it for her again.â
He looks up in supplication, willing Brady to understand, and sees his sonâs flushed face. The bulge in his sweats.
âFuck,â Brady says, and Doug laughs a little freer this time because he knows Bradyâs thinking of it: Breanneâs sweet face begging for his come.
âShe used to-â Brady starts, then breaks off and shifts guiltily.
Doug leans in. âTell me.â
âShe used to come into my bed at night before I left for college. Wearing those big t-shirts sheâd stolen from you as a nightgown, and little panties with flowers on them.â
âYeah,â Doug sighs. Heâd ruined several pairs of those panties, running that soft cotton over his cock until heâd gotten them filthy with his come.
âSheâd get right up against me and fall asleep like sheâd flipped a switch. Mouth open and drooling. Body all warm and soft.â
âDid you touch her?â
âNo, but I wanted to. Wanted to put my hands all over her. My mouth.â
âJesus,â Doug sighs, because heâd looked too. For years heâd looked, but heâd never touched. Not even when sheâd climbed into his bed, but he could imagine. His son all but shaking with want as he thought about sucking on his sisterâs pretty breasts. Tonguing them in the quiet of the night.
âThe first couple of times I snuck into the bathroom to jerk off but the night before I left for college,â Brady took a shuddering breath and met his dadâs dark eyes. âThat night I didnât. I was right next to her when I came all over my fist thinking of all the things I wanted to do to her, and I-I couldnât stop myself from touching her. Just a little, right on her open mouth. And she-you know how sheâs always been about sucking on things.â
âSucked on her fingers until she was ten,â Doug says, voice low and rough. âNever could get her to stop.â
âShe just pulled my fingers in, making these hungry little noises.â
He leans back in his chair, closing his eyes and breathing deeply, but his voice is still strained when he says, âYou know, the best fuck I had in college was this little freshman who got smashed at a kegger. Hot little body that I pealed out of a tiny dressed and poured into my bed. She made these cute little punched out noises as fucked her, and after I came in her cunt I dragged myself up her body and made her clean my cock. And she was good, right? Opened her throat right up for me. Got me hard again as I fucked her mouth. She was so fucking hot, but nothing,â he says, opening his eyes again. âNothing was as good as seeing Breanneâs mouth stretched around my fingers that night, Nothing was ever as good as seeing my baby sisterâs mouth filled with my come.â
***
They donât plan it, but theyâre both pretty buzzed when Breanne gets home: a half dozen beer bottles litter the table and Dougâs pretty sure he can still smell the last joint hovering in the air, barely covering the thick scent of come.
It had started with the video of Breanneâs last birthday party.
âPool party,â Doug had mentioned, and Brady had said, âFuck yes.â
Theyâd both already been so worked up that it hadnât taken much for Brady to stuff his hands in his pants and start tugging on his cock. Breanneâs pretty little breasts bouncing beneath the pale blue fabric of her bikini.
It had only gotten better when sheâd gotten in the water, the blue going almost translucent, and Doug had smirked as Brady swore softly and came.
After, Doug had said, âYou know Iâve got tapes of your mother,â before thought better of it, and then heâd dug around in the back of his closet while Brady hooked up the dusty VCR.
âFuck, Breanne looks just like her,â Brady had said softly, as his mother smiled coquettishly at the camera.
Itâd had been a jolt to realize the woman on the screen was barely a year older than his daughter was right now; a sultry nineteen year old with thick hair and a pouty smile slowly unbuttoning her prim white shirt.
When Breanne shows up sheâs not wearing a prim button down, but a long, body hugging shirt and pale blue leggings thatâd probably go just as translucent as the bikini if Doug was to get her wet. He has a brief, sizzling moment of eye contact with his son and knows theyâre both thinking the same thing, when Breanne surprises the hell out of him and sits right down on his lap.
âDaddy, you are supposed to be the responsible adult here,â she admonishes.
âHavenât I always told you, Iâd rather you have your fun here where I can keep an eye on you?â
Breanne smacks him on the chest then steals his beer, and says, âWell in that case,â before she takes a long, slow pull of it, and makes Doug want to shift in his seat.
âHere, Little B,â Brady says, standing and holding out a fresh beer. âWeâve gotta catch you up.â
Heâs knows his daughter has had alcohol before, but three beers in has her leaning tipsily against his chest and slurring her words. He runs his hand up and down her bare arm, then makes eye contact with Brady for a hot second before he lets his hand wander further: the top of her thigh, the curve of her ass.
Breanne hums into his throat, that same pretty noise as when sheâs drinking his come, and Doug canât help but cup his hand, brushing his fingertips along the hot space where the fabric of her leggings dips in between her asscheeks.
This time she moans, her back arching and her hips tilting until sheâs pressing against Dougâs fingers.
âGod,â Brady breathes out, because he can see Dougâs fingers, big and thick moving over the crease of Breanneâs leggings. Can see the damp spot that Dougâs just starting to feel, and Doug idly wonders if the leggings are indeed going transparent where his little girl is dripping out cuntjuice.
âYou had enough to drink, baby, or you want Brady to fix you something special? He makes a real mean shooter,â Doug adds, with a significant look at his son. âSpecial recipe just like the coffee I make for you.â
âMmmm, yeah, daddy,â she says without opening her eyes. Her hips are moving instinctually against his hand, in a slow, sinuous movement, and itâs easy to tug her forward until sheâs straddling his thighs. Easy to get both his hands on her ass and guide her cunt to where is cock is hard and heavy beneath his sweats.
Brady almost stumbles in his haste to get a glass from the kitchen, and he doesnât even try to hide it when he yanks down his sweats and starts jerking it into the glass. Doesnât even try to muffle his moans as he watches his little sister ride the ridge of his fatherâs thick cock.
Doesnât even try to hide it when he just hands the shot glass over without adding any alcohol at all. His thick, white come is frothed halfway up the glass, and Breanne giggles a little as she almost fumbles it, then knocks it back like a goddamn pro.
She makes that sweet little humming sound again, which goes breathy and ragged as Dougâs hand slips in the back of her leggings, his big, rough fingers finding the place where sheâs wet and warm. Curling up into her as she pants against his chest, all soft and willing and cumdrunk.
Her body shivers for him, a languid ripple of pleasure and a pretty little gasp as she comes, and then Doug is leaning close and saying, âYou want another drink, sweetheart? One last one for the night?â
He doesnât even notice when Brady picks up his phone, but itâs just as breathtaking to watch it afterwards. To see his daughter slip down between his spread thighs, her hazy blue eyes blinking up at him slowly. Her soft mouth open and flushed for him as he gets his fist around his cock.
On the video he gets to see where her little hand slips inside her leggings as he feeds his cock to her. He gets to see her ride her fingers as she suckles the flushed fat head of his dick. Gets to hear her hungry little sounds as she comes with his cock inside of her, and remember the way sheâd quivered as heâd emptied himself inside of her sweet, little mouth.
They take her upstairs after.
Doug gets water and aspirin for her, and Brady hands her another pill that she swallows down just as willingly before she sinks happily onto the bed, curling up on her side.
âWhat did you give her?â
Brady cocks an eyebrow and says, âRoofie,â like itâs a dare.
Like Doug hasnât been feeding his daughter his come for a year. Like he hadnât just gotten his daughter drunk for the sole purpose of getting off on her pretty little body. Like Dougâs still not hard.
He looks at Breanne, her tight little body and her innocent little face. He thinks of all the filthy things heâs wanted to do to her for years then turns back to Brady and says, âYou should get the video camera.â