Şubat 1, 2024

The Jackson Family Ch. 4

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“Jenny will you please put your things away!” grumbled Greg. He had walked into a sodden lump of clothing hanging from a make-shift line in the bathroom. There was a muffled response from her room.

Jenny was the apple of his eye, and always had been, but sometimes she could be exasperating. He knew there was absolutely no reason to complain. Jenny Jackson would have been any father’s joy, in many ways she was a caricature of the perfect college girl. At high school she had been the president of the debating society and a cheerleader and a straight ‘A’ student. She was now doing psychology in college.

Jenny had her mother’s soft auburn hair and fair skin and ruby-red lips which rarely required lipstick. But her figure was her most stunningly attractive feature. She was a little smaller than her mother but her breasts were two full sizes larger and perfectly firm and proportioned. Her nipples were fantastically responsive, and seemed to be permanently erect, whether it was a cool day, or if she were frightened or excited or just tired, her nipples seemed to harden. She wore flimsy soft brassieres merely to hold her breasts from some independent movement of their own, but in doing so her nipples poked through them whenever she became excited. It was something Greg Jackson had noticed many times.

It was one of Jenny’s bras he was holding in his hand now. The cold lump of clothing had fallen across his face as he had entered the bathroom. He kept hold of it while he reached into his pajama pants and flopped out his massive cock and pissed in the bowl. He absent-mindedly fingered the silky softness of the bra as he finished pissing and shook himself dry.

He looked balefully around the bathroom, and pegged the bra back to the line. Strung out were all kinds of petticoats and panties and bras and stockings. Greg touched a few of them to see if they were dry. He noted how much Jenny had changed since going to college. No longer did she have plain cotton undies. Here was an array that would not be out of place in some French bordello. The bras were black or red and definitely see-through. The petticoats were the finest satins. There were no practical pantihose, instead there were stockings which would have required sexy suspenders.

As he went through the itinerary, Greg’s cock began to thicken and throb a little, even more so when he discovered Jenny liked wearing thongs, just enough to cover her crotch, a mere string passed along the crack of her ass. He was always fascinated by women’s underwear. Mary often teased him with something outrageous knowing it would always turn him into a raging bull.

Greg walked along the line touching and inspecting the dainty little items. His elephantine cock swayed majestically as he walked. There were some unwashed items in a basket. He plucked out a handkerchief-sized pair of panties. He couldn’t resist. He put them to his face and breathed in his daughter’s odor. Some hint of pheromone immediately excited him and his cock began to grow quite thick and rubbery. He sniffed each item, every one as exciting as the last. Buried deep in the pile was a little black number, a mere slip of fabric. He put it to his face and breathed mightily, feeling only a little perverse. After all, what harm could come of it? He inspected the panties in his hands. A thrill went through him They were crotchless! His cock bounced into action. What kind of sweet daughter wore stockings and thongs and crotchless panties? He was trembling slightly, and then he did something he hadn’t done for years.

He wrapped the panties around his great lump of a cock and slowly and sensuously started to jack himself off. Images of Jenny invaded his mind. Her laughing eyes and perfect white teeth and sweet rosebud-red lips. His mind conjured up her magnificent breasts, their milky whiteness and pert nipples. Then his mind dressed her in suspenders and stockings and crotchless panties. He painted her lips brighter red and her face was rouged. His mind had invented his daughter-the-whore.


Blood drained from his face. Jenny was standing at the bathroom door. She was wearing baggy track suit pants and escort resimleri a light T-shirt which merely accentuated her breasts. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. Her father could not even gasp. By turns he looked angry, confused, shamed and fearful. His fist was still gripping his cock, Jenny’s flimsy panties tangled around it.

Jenny was frozen. It was her turn for mixed emotions. Foremost was her amazement at the size of his member. She had discovered sex as a young girl and had fucked literally dozens of boys, and several men, but none came even close to her daddy’s size. Then came the realisation that her daddy was jacking off using her underwear. Her heart thumped. Nothing in her experience had prepared her for this. She had no idea what to say. Stupidly she was about to ask, “Is there anything I can do?”. Instead she said, “You said to put my things away.”

Greg Jackson replied numbly, “Yes.”

There was a long pause. Greg’s cock refused to lose its tumescence. He could only stand there.

“Umm…I’ll come back later…ummm….Sorry, Daddy.” And she closed the door quietly. Her father didn’t move. Time seemed to have stopped all over the world. He glared at his schlong as if to accuse it of betrayal.

But one of the reasons it had refused to go away was because Jenny’s T-shirt had stretched so provocatively across her impossibly hard nipples.

The family sat silently in the lounge, watching the TV news. Tommy and Mary sat on the sofa. Greg and Jenny sat in arm chairs. There was a certain tension in the air, misinterpreted by everyone. Mary was acutely conscious of Tommy. Twice he had ‘accidentally’ brushed her thigh. Tommy stared at the TV, the fifteen year old entranced by the balance of payments problem in Belgium. Greg stole glances at Jenny, and every now and then he would blush furiously when he felt Jenny looking at him. He wished he had worn tight, restraining jeans instead of his loose track suit. He wasn’t even wearing any underpants. Despite all his willpower, his cock was thickening. He was sure someone would notice. Jenny was alternately repelled and fascinated by what her father had been caught doing.

“What about pizza tonight?” asked Mary.

“Yep”, “Sure”, “Great idea”, they all blurted, grateful for any break in the silence.

“I’ll go,” said Jenny, “I’ll take the BMW”

Greg breathed a sigh of relief, for 30 minutes or more he could relax.

“Alright, dear,” said Mary and went to her handbag for money. Tommy watched her move across the room. He crossed his legs.

She fossicked around in the bag for what seemed an eternity, then gave Jenny a $50 bill, and the car keys. “Get a family size pizza darling. You choose.”

“Okay Mom,” said Jenny, throwing on a warm sweater over her T-shirt and short pleated skirt, and walked to the front door.

“Oh Greg, go with Jenny will you?”, said Mary casually, “The roads are icy. Besides I want a pizza from that new place on Plane St. They’re tasty. You can show her.”

Greg was lost for words. Go with Jenny? Sit in the same car? Talk about the weather and avoid for the better part of an hour any discussion about what had happened? He squirmed and coughed, hoping some excuse would come to him.

“Oh I’ll be fine, Mom,” said Jenny hurriedly. “It’s not far.”

Her father was about to agree when Mary said, “Nonsense. It’s dangerous out there in this weather. Daddy will want to make sure you’re okay. Won’t you Greg?”

Greg’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. Trapped. Refuse and he was being a bad father. Go and be told he was a pervert father. He waited for the earth to open and swallow him.

“Sure,” he gargled, “Love to.”

The heater was going full-blast in the luxury BMW. Both of the were silently aware of the other’s discomfort. The air became pleasantly warm and then stifling hot. Soft music played from the radio. Outside the night was cold and the stars shone brightly. The snow glowed eerily.

After and eternity, Greg said, “Umm…look, about this morning.” He cleared his throat. “I have never done that…well, hardly ever. Not gaziantep escort resimleri for years. No idea what came over me.” He waited for a response. Jenny stared fixedly ahead, watching the road. She shifted uncomfortably in the seat. She gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Jenny. I had been on the road for three weeks. A man…There’s sexual urges. A man’s judgement goes awry sometimes. Damn stupid of me. Damn. Damn.”

“Whose panties were they Dad?”

Greg shifted position in his seat, “Oh I don’t know. They all look they same….”

“Whose, Daddy?”

“I suppose they were yours, Jenny. But…”


“Well, yes, they were yours, but that’s not what….What are you doing?”

Jenny put on the indicators and turned the car into a huge, poorly lit car park. She drove to the center, eased to a stop and turned off the engine and the headlights.

She turned to Greg, and said, “We need to get this out into the open Daddy. Whose panties were they?”

This was torture. “Yours, Jenny,” said Greg contritely.

“You knew they were mine?”


“You knew they were your daughter’s panties?”


“You wanted to cum in your daughter’s panties?”

Greg wanted to die. What could he say?

“Please don’t do this, Jenny,” he pleaded.

“Which panties of mine were they?”

“Please, Jenny…”

Her hands disappeared under her short skirt, and hooked her panties with her thumbs. Deftly, she pulled them down over her ankles and held them in her hand. Greg caught a flash of her pure white skin and the dark recesses of her cunt.

“Were they these?” She was holding the black, lacy crotchless panties.

Greg saw a chance. He tried to will a fatherly firmness in his voice, “Well, young lady, I was going to ask what you were doing with those kind of…”

“Don’t you dare try that on me, father. Here…” She pushed them into his hand. “Do it.”

The panties were deliciously warm and soft. Greg thought there was a hint of moistness.


“Do it. Cum in your daughter’s panties. You see, Daddy, I retrieved them afterwards. They were dry. I interrupted you didn’t I? Now I want to see you do it. I’m a psychology major Daddy. I know what I am doing. Do this front of me and the fantasy just goes away.”

“Of course, I won’t, Jenny. That’s quite ridiculous.”

“Slip down your track suit pants Daddy. I was watching you in the lounge room. Even there you couldn’t hide your fat cock. God only knows what it’s like now, sitting here, alone, with your daughter.”

It was true. Despite Greg’s turmoil, his cock was thick and heavy. Unexpectedly, Jenny reached across to his groin and gently touched him. It surprised him, and his cock kicked under her touch.

“I thought so,” she said quietly. “Down with your pants Daddy. All the way to your ankles now.” She slid closer to her father, and he could smell her pungent sweet perfume. She tugged at the elastic around his pants and pulled them down just far enough for his cock to spring out, almost comically, like a jack-in-a-box.

“Oh!”, said Jenny, momentarily startled. Not only by the suddeness but again by it’s club-like size. Greg had a twisted, pained, embarrassed smile on his face and muttered something incomprehensible by way of apology. Dumbly, he just stared at his tool as if it were something foreign.

“Did you smell my panties Daddy? Did you breathe in my aroma? I took them out of the wash-basket this morning and I have been wearing them all day.” She closed his fingers around her panties, and pushed his hand gently to his face. “Breathe in Jenny’s juices Daddy.”

Her father couldn’t help himself. He closed his eyes and breathed in. Jenny slipped his pants down to his ankles. Unconsciously, Greg helped by raising his buttocks slightly. He was now completely exposed, his massive cock cobra-like in his lap.

“Come on, Daddy, do it for Jenny,” she said quietly. She caught his hand and pushed it onto his waving member. “This might help.” She lifted up her sweater and the T-shirt underneath gaziantep escort bayan resimleri and exposed her luscious over-sized, firm boobs. “Is that better, Daddy?”

Greg’s mouth was agape, and he stared unblinkingly. His hand started to masturbate furiously.

“You like Jenny’s boobies, don’t you Daddy? Even when I was a school girl, you liked watching them, didn’t you Daddy. And touching…” She took his free hand and placed it on her breast.

Greg was beside himself. Almost delirious. His daughter was looking deeply into his eyes, lovingly but coolly as he pawed her breast and squeezed her nipples. He felt Jenny shudder.

“Let me help,” she said, “Use both hands, darling Daddy.” She was breathing heavily.

Greg almost lunged at her with both his hands. He was salivating. Jenny reached down, first with one hand, then because of his size, both hands. She started to masturbate her groping, writhing daddy.

Jenny wasn’t trying to disguise her ragged breathing as her father massaged and squeezed her magnificent orbs. He was in heaven. Despite all his denials he had fantasised about his daughter’s breasts since she started developing at 12. Her little hands were strong and expert around his cock. The faces were inches apart, feeling each other’s breath.

“Cum for Jenny, baby. Cum for Jenny,” she cooed.

“Aaaargh! Aaaargh!” grunted Greg. “Jenny…I….I’m….” And his hips buckled and thrust at her.

“Yes, Daddy! YES. Hurt Jenny’s boobies, Daddy. Squeeze tight. Fuck Jenny’s hands Daddy. Fuck Jenny. Fuck your daughter, darling Daddy.”

Her filthy words sent him over the edge and his cock erupted. Great globs of cum spat into Jenny’s panties, firmly wrapped around the head of his tool. Sparkling droplets escaped and spattered on Jenny’s arms. Time and again, his cock pulsed and Jenny wrestled with it as best she could.

“Ooooh, Jenny. Oooh, baby. OH DADDY’S CUMMING SO HARD,” sobbed Greg.

He twisted her nipples painfully, and roughly clawed at her breasts. Shock after shock coursed through him as he orgasmed. Each time he thought he had finished, Jenny’s hands would squeeze him again, and he would convulse.

“Ummmfffgh,” he gasped.

The jism oozed out of her panties and dribbled across her fingers. She squeezed as hard as she could. His cock was iron-hard and alive beneath her fingers.

“Good daddy. Good daddy,” breathed Jenny.

Slowly Greg’s spasms died away. Cum stained his shirt, and it glistened in the moonlight from Jenny’s panties and from her hands. His fingers relaxed their grip on Jenny’s nipples, and he sank back into the seat, exhausted. Jenny pecked him on the cheek.

“There! That was nice wasn’t it?”

Greg threw his head backwards on the head-rest. Sucking in air, chest heaving. He felt Jenny dragging up his tracksuit pants, and tucking in his thick, rubbery, smeared member. He heard her open the driver’s side door and get out.

Blearily he turned his head to watch. She was pulling on her sodden panties under her little skirt, and patting them down. They made a damp sound. She smoothed them out as they stuck to her skin. She paid especial attention to smearing his wet jism over her exposed cunt. She looked at Greg pointedly, and carefully sucked each finger in turn, cleaning them of his dripping cum. Her hand went back to her cunt, she made no attempt to cover herself, and scooped up another glob.

“Golly, Daddy, they’re soaking!” smiled Jenny as she sucked her finger. Greg looked puzzled. “Well, I can’t leave them in the car, can I? And I am not going to carry them on top of the pizza box,” she giggled.

God! The pizza, thought Greg.

She hopped back into the drivers seat, and patted Greg on the thigh, “There now, daddikins. Your first lesson in Psychology 101. If a fantasy is fulfilled, it just disappears like magic.” She smiled broadly and started the car.

They moved off smoothly and crossed the car park, heading for the pizza place.

After a little while, Jenny said thoughtfully, “Of course, it doesn’t always work.” And smiled again.

When they returned home, Greg muttered something about being a crowd at the pizza place. Mary was understanding and smiled. She looked flushed.

Jenny noticed her mother’s hair was tusselled and a matted. Tommy was still transfixed on the TV. Usually he would have been scrambling in the pizza box, hungrily wolfing down the food. Instead he just lay back on the sofa. She noticed his T-shirt was sightly damp, as if from sweat.