A Perfect Arrangement

A Perfect Arrangement

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All characters are over 18, fictional, and none of it happened. Think of it as a Grimm fairytale.

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Don and Danielle get each other. Cucky serves.

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Like an old coat, Danielle had gotten used to him over the years, and, like an old coat, he was comfy and dependable and fitted her body nicely, but she wouldn't want to be seen with him in public. She was a lot younger than him, and the difference in their ages mattered--they both liked it--but they didn't want to be bothered with anyone who'd be bothered by them, or their lust for each other. So they kept to themselves.

It was a perfect arrangement.

It was just another Sunday night, like any other, and he'd flown in for his routine weekly sales trip. When he landed he sent her the digital passkey to the hotel room. They liked that hotel. It was a regular for them, convenient and suitable, with few guests and an inconspicuous backdoor, so it was unlikely anyone would see her coming or going. Of course if anyone did, it would be just another innocent visit, no further questions asked. But they preferred discretion, the less gossip the better.

They had discovered how well suited they were to each other at the start of her last year of high school, on her eighteenth birthday, an unforgettable night. He'd planned it for years and it went like clockwork. That evening her Mum had done as she was told and gone to bed early with a sleeping pill, her brother was busy bedding his girlfriend upstairs in his room, and Don went downstairs to attend to her in her basement bedroom.

He knocked quietly and entered without waiting. She was sitting on the edge of her bed still dressed from an after school birthday celebration with girlfriends. "Speck," his pet name for her from the day she was born, "you're an adult now and it's time we get to know each other as adults," and he sat down beside her with his arm around her. For a moment she pulled away, but he tightened his embrace and she leaned, almost imperceptibly, into him. "That's better. You're not going anywhere, Speck," and he leaned into her.

As he expected, she at first resisted indignantly, earnestly quoting morals, ethics and conviction at him. But he knew her better than she knew herself, just as she knew him better than he knew himself. They both knew what the other wanted, so it was inevitable what happened next.

It began with an arm around her shoulders and a little sweet talk in her ear behind her locked basement bedroom door. Then his hand got to wandering and he offered her a few escalating bribes, which he followed with an exasperated threat and an over the knee spanking. That's when he got his hand in her pants and his fingers in play, and soon she was puffy and creaming nicely, and rethinking her stance on morality. By the time he got her pants off, her school skirt up, and his cock-head into her, her mind was adrift and she'd forgotten all modesty and convictions.

Finally, her last skerrick of resistance dissolved as he drove his long girthy shaft all the way up into its new home, and she sprinkled and soaked the two of them in a spate of bodily fluids she had no idea existed. In that instant she discovered the brave new world of cock, and from then on was an enthusiastic and active participant in fucking.

He enjoyed this opening round, and finally taking her virginity, and could now get the job properly underway. He proceeded to give her her first really good fatherly rogering, while she sang his praises at the top of her lungs, enough to wake the house.

He always knew it would come to this, and had been prescient in moving her to the acoustically insulated basement bedroom with its king bed years before. Of course she was also glad, glad how she'd steered his thoughts in this direction for years. She had always known what he was after, long before he did, and how they were cast from the same mould, fellow adventurers in the same family.

They had each been waiting for this special day, and when it came it didn't take them long to learn how neatly they fitted together. She liked his cock in her, just as he liked her tongue in him, and they both liked spooning. A daughter wrapped in father's arms, dad's naked cock pressing daughter's naked back, Daddy's strong arms around little girl's torso, familiar old-man hands cupping little tits, long magical bony fingers hooked in her pussy. It was heaven for both.

And he, with his experience over innocence, understood their luck and good fortune to be so singularly well matched. They found they were two spoons in the same drawer, an old spoon and a young spoon fitting together, father and daughter in the same cutlery service, each knowing the other as intimately as they knew themselves.

When she was growing up, she always loved how he protected and guided her, defended her honor and looked after her, and now he was also her teacher in the bedroom and never jealous. For his part, he had always liked how she needed and obeyed him, pleased and exhausted him, and made him a part of her young life, inside and out. And now he loved her even more, because she accommodated his dark preferences, those secret desires which other women and girls considered, at best, distasteful misogynist fetishes, and, at worst evil horrible sins against womanhood. But which she, quite eagerly, considered just quaint lovable predilections of a cuddly old man with a big cock, full hairy balls and no shame.

She loved how he bent her to his wishes. Over, forward, backward, willing and unwilling, making her offer every hole, accept every appendage, leak every bodily fluid. He had always been able to turn her body and mind to an inside-out pulpy sticky mess, and now he was doing it for real, morning, noon and night, while she filed away intense memories of his sexual mastering.

These memories carried her through many a boy-friend's lackluster attempts at fucking her, those pale teenaged virgins earnestly but ineffectually grunting over their small cocks dangling from hairless weedy bodies. As they fiddled and diddled ignorantly, she satisfied her carnal appetite by remembering how her father's large girthy cock stirred her pot vigorously at home.

When she came, screaming and writhing, it wasn't because of the latest little cuck's cock between her legs, but because of the masterful pounding she was getting from Daddy in her mind's eye. As she screamed, she was remembering his Daddy hands around her throat, his Daddy fingers in her mouth and other holes, and his thick Daddy cock pounding her ass and cunt. Later that night she'd tell him about her evening's cuck boy adventures while he got his big paternal cock into her, an expertly took her over her jumps while she talked.

Of course no boy was ever going to get her pregnant. Dad made sure of that. He had already had her fitted with an IUD the morning of her eighteenth birthday, and that suited her to a tee. She found it pretty damn intense knowing how he had claimed her fertility for himself, and it made her incredibly horny for him. She couldn't wait for him to breed her.

Danielle often had a boyfriend, some eager rich kid eager to take her to dinner and dancing and concerts, things her father was too busy and old and staid to do. She would always let the boy get to first base, and sometimes second, and if Dad had a lech for it, he'd tell her to let the boy into third and home base.

He liked Danielle to tell him everything that had happened when she got home, and he listened to her detailed accounts of the boy's piddling efforts and the sloppy inept mess he made, while he, her big possessive Daddy, got her onto his long girthy cock and took her to heaven. She liked telling him the details while he pounded her, because she liked how it made him lose control in his fucking.

When he lost control, his cock swelled to twice it's normal diameter and grew an extra inch, his speed, force and rhythm increased, and he got a particular and very special glassy-eyed fixed mating stare that always did her in. This happened whenever he was fucking her while she described a date with a boy, whoever it was they happened to be cucking at the time. These post-date poundings were always a sweet father-daughter bonding moment.

On those nights as she recounted the date, every word she spoke was interrupted by grunts and moans driven out of her by Daddy's thrusts. He was driving the boy from her mind, and she would come extra hard from the battering he gave her, and she'd have to cover her mouth with a pillow to avoid disturbing the household. Mum was a light sleeper, and it was always possible the suspicious interfering old cow had sneaked down to the basement, pretending to look for something but really hovering outside the bedroom door, afraid to know. But it never stopped Daddy giving his daughter a nightly bollocking, and she enjoyed her new bruises each week.

Of course her boyfriend of the day would always think it was he who'd done it--bruised and violated her--and she'd titillate and goad him into a mixture of pride and guilt. Then she'd tell Daddy about him when she got home and he'd become particularly rough, violent and fatherly as he dragged her by the hair through the dark valleys of his forbidden fantasies, and told her what he'd do to the boy if he ever caught him.

When he finally nutted in her, it would be with the darkest of dark thoughts ripping through his brain like black lightning, and Danielle utterly lost and captive, and loving the animal he'd become fucking her.

Danielle and her dad kept at it for almost a year, and then, shortly before her nineteenth birthday, they went on a college tour so he could decide where to enrol her. He chose a large college in the largest city at the center of his sales region, where, as Sales Manager, he could count on flying in and staying in a nearby hotel every week for as long as she was in college.

Neither of them was going to let a little thing like college get in the way of this big thing they'd become addicted to. It had only been a year, but they were already coupled for life, and he was going be there every week of every college year and she would visit him every night and sleep in his arms. Of course, he was a thoughtful father and lover and wanted her to have as many boy-friends as she could handle, and he looked forward to cucking all she could bring him.

She did tell her new girlfriends and boyfriends about him, "...he's my Dad...he often comes to town on business...he's a boring old man, but I'll probably go and see him when he's in town...get a free meal...maybe spend the night..." And that was that. They had a routine like they'd been together all their lives, which in a way they had.

He would arrive from home every Monday morning, leaving Mum to her book groups, therapists and Chardonnay. Whoever got to the hotel first would break open the bar and lay out a bottle and two glasses while they waited for the other.

They liked undressing each other, and long ago it became a ritual.

He would strip her slowly, all the way down to her g-string, then check her for any damage she might have received from a nicely over-zealous boyfriend. The more zealous the better, because that gave Daddy something to work against. He would examine her carefully all over, internally and externally, both of them enjoying the probing search. If he found anything--like a hickey on her neck, a bruise on an inner thigh, sore nipples, or a sore and gaping asshole--then he would up the anti and make sure she had new marks overlaying those from the boy. Not just matching, but exceeding the marks the little cuck had left on Daddy's little girl.

Danielle loved being owned by her father this way, and by the time he finally pulled the soaked g-string out of her tight crack, she'd be puffy and creaming and ready for anything he wanted.

Then Danielle would carefully undress her dad, unbuttoning every button, folding his shirt, hanging his tie, carefully arranging his suit in the closet, looking after her man. She needed to please him, and he needed her need to please him. He always stopped short of letting her mother him--he had a wife and some other females who had tried that game--but he let her serve him like a good little girl.

Once he was naked she'd set to work with her mouth on his cock, perhaps a finger or tongue in his ass, but never let him come. It was a delicate balance, but after all their time together they were familiar lovers and knew each other's bodies. Then he'd take her in whatever way caught his fancy, whether missionary, seated, doggy, straddled, on her back over the bed edge, or from behind in cunt or ass while she stared, lost and longing, into the mirror or camera lens.

Then they'd go to a quiet domestic father-daughter dinner where he'd tell her what her mother and he had been doing, and which of her friends he had seen, and which he was scheming to hump. Then she'd tell him about her friends and classes, and regale him with stories of her latest boyfriend, all while running her toes around his crotch under the table.

When they got back to the room he'd have her repeat the details of what her cuck boyfriend had been doing to his little girl, while he, the only Daddy she was allowed to have, got his big cock in her. Then he'd take her through her bedroom steeple-chase and give her a load to remember him, and instructions on what he wanted her to do with--or rather, to--her boyfriend over the coming week.

Then they'd go to sleep, naked, with Dad the big spoon behind her, and she the little spoon cuddled and curled against his chest, belly and semi-hard cock. She'd feel his arms enclosing her, his breath slowing down, his relaxed warm exhalations wafting around her face, neck and tits, and his fatherly fingers gently squeezing her little tits and pussy mound, and then...

...a whispered throaty murmured, "Good night, Speck, I love you," and a sleepy rejoinder, "Good night Dad, me too," would end another perfect day.

Before she knew it, the sun was up, the alarm was going off, and she was about to pop because Daddy had gotten his cock into her while she slept and was about to blow a big morning wad in her. Then they'd both shower and she'd hurry off to class.

Rinse and repeat. This went on for three years, and they were never bored.

When she finally graduated, she had a B average, a steady boy friend who she planned to marry, and she had made sure Daddy approved him. Cucky--which is what Daddy called the boy, sometimessotto voceto his face--was not too bright, but would be a good provider and lived at the center of Daddy's sales region.

Daddy set the tone with Cucky from the start. "We're going to be family and I have one rule. Never call me Don, only Sir, or Daddy if I say you can. It shows respect." Then he got Cucky a sales job at his company with a salary too good to refuse, and had him assigned to a distant sales region so he'd be out of town most weeks. Nothing was going to interrupt Dad and daughter time, and they'd get together even more than before in their new home.

Danielle and Cucky married and settled into a large house which Cucky would take decades to pay for. Cucky was a good provider, and knew to not make any demands on her. He just wanted her to have whatever she wanted and be happy, and he'd work however hard he had to for her. He told himself and the few friends and acquaintances he had left, and any strangers who'd listen, that it was all he needed.

With Cucky mostly gone, Danielle and Daddy settled into a comfortable life, watching out for each other and making plans for the future. And, of course, always fucking. He had a good body, and he knew hers like he'd raised it himself, and he was a patient and disciplined trainer in bed, and for her part she kept him young and fit.

He was comfortable and dependable as a partner, strong and protective as a man, tireless and inventive in bed, someone who knew and took what he wanted. Besides, he had a big cock, vivid imagination, fearless demands, and could never get enough of her.

What more could a young woman want, and she slept with his portrait beside her side of the bed.

Between them, they also made sure Cucky knew he was on a good thing and didn't rock the boat. Danielle kept him on a short cock string in bed, and Daddy pulled strings at work to put Cucky on the company fast track, earning a good salary, and away from home every week. They started calling him Cucky to his face, and telling him how he was going to be good provider for their children. This got Daddy and Danielle particularly horny for each other when they saw how much the idea turned him on. That's about when they started using him as a bed-servant.

After a year, when Danielle was not quite twenty-two, Daddy decided it was time to breed her. That month he waited for her to reach peak fertility, made sure Cucky was away on business for two weeks, and told Danielle's mum that he'd be staying with Danielle for a month.

As soon as Cucky left, Daddy took Danielle to her gynaecologist to remove her IUD, then took her home and moved into her and Cucky's bedroom. There, slap-bang in the middle of Cucky's bed, he fucked her several times a day until her period failed and she tested pregnant. When Cucky returned two weeks later, Daddy went out for a celebratory drink.

He told Danielle to let Cucky fuck her in her cunt while he was gone, but only once and to not let him finish inside. Cucky had to pull out, finish in a sock, then clean and douche her, all of which he did while Daddy's portrait watched from beside the bed. Then Cucky went to the basement and Daddy returned and fucked Danielle on the bed. It was their hottest sex in a long time. The next morning Cucky left again for another two-week trip, and Daddy rarely allowed Cucky to fuck Danielle again.

Cucky thought he had knocked her up with his one night stand and a single lucky sperm which managed to miss the sock and beat the douche. Of course, Cucky slowly gave up on that idea over the years, but by the time he understood what really happened, he was enjoying who he had become too much to care. He learned how proud he was that Sir was the Daddy of the house.

For nine months Daddy enjoyed fucking his gradually swelling daughter in Cucky's bedroom while Cucky was away on innumerable trips.

In her first trimester, dad liked her to ride him cowboy so he could watch her tummy swelling sweetly. During the second trimester he liked taking her missionary so he could suck on her milky tits and feel her growing beach ball of a belly sliding under his thrusts. In the third trimester he liked mounting her doggy and reaching down to cup her pendulous udders and running his palms along the flanks of her enormous belly. In the last month he avoided her cunt completely and only took her orally or doggy-anal, to carefully protect what was his.

Sometimes an old lech would resurface, for example he'd tell Danielle to call an old boyfriend to come for a buddy fuck. When the young man was done--it never took those half-assed lads long to come in her mountainous pregnant body--Danielle would tell them to clean out her cunt under that big fat belly, then douche her, and leave. Daddy would watch on the video monitor, and, when they'd gone, bring his expert cock into the bedroom and give her a pounding.

For many nights they stayed awake choosing a name for their baby, they decorated the nursery, and they made plans for the birth. They were in love and nesting. Before the special day came, Daddy sent Cucky overseas on business for six months, and when his pregnant daughter went into labour he took her to the hospital.

It was he who watched over her all night until she gave birth to his second daughter, his granddaughter, their daughter, her sister. It was he who watched his new daughter emerge bloody and greasy from the birth canal he owned between his daughter's legs. It was he who held his new baby in his arms, remembering how he had held Danielle the same way, now all grown up and fertile and the mother of his next child, her sister. It was he who threw all the names they had carefully considered out the window and decided to call her Speck. It was he who stood beside the bed with his second Speck in his arms, looking lovingly at his two daughters, face to face. It was Danielle, lying on her side in the bed where she'd just given birth, who reached for his fly and lowered the zip.