Katie's Incest Adventures

"Katie Takes Manhattan"

by J.D. Savanyu

I'm cruising along with daddy on my summer break, tagging along into New York City for his big boring business convention. Resting my head on his strong shoulders in the leathery back seat of a car that costs even more than he's spending to put me through four years at Oxford. The lilting piano strains of Franz Lizst ooze through the high-powered speakers, reminding me of our wild incest-soaked week in Austria during my spring break five months ago. I'm madly in lust with my hot rich forty-something father, fucking him as often as possible until I finally knock some sense into myself (orheknocks it intome.)

"Which do you love more, daddy? Me, or your money?" I utter dreamily, gazing at the Manhattan skyline as we cross over to that island on the Triborough Bridge. (Fuck that "RFK Bridge" and 'Mario Cuomo Bridge" bullshit!)

"You, darling. But not by much," Roger replies slyly.

"I love your honesty, Mister Keofferam," I giggle.

"I'm a lying cheating hedge fund billionaire, but I never lie to my sexy daughter."

The driver in front clears his throat awkwardly and checks the GPS monitor. Daddy clears his throat a moment later, remembering that we have to avoid dropping any obvious clues about our secret illegal relationship.

"I can't wait to get to the convention, and deliver my keynote speech about Pinnacle's five year vision."

"You'll still be doing the same stock market shit five years from now... but I won't know what the hell to do after I graduate from Oxford with a useless history degree."

"I'll keep the back door wide open for you at my investment firm. Another underqualified 'woke' hire, always playing the gender card to get out of jail free."

The driver pulls off the highway and parades down East 48th street, passing the ugly headquarters of the incompetent United Nations. The streets of Manhattan are buzzing like a yuppie beehive on a warm Saturday afternoon. Lots of hot young ladies like me are flaunting the latest summer fashions from upscale boutiques, while scraggly homeless guys gaze up at them with abject longing.

"I can't wait to dive back into that witty cosmopolitan Sex and The City scene after hobnobbing with a bunch of stiff-upper-lip British blokes," I muse while passing the FAO Schwarz toy boutique.

"I'd love to see a British version of that crappy HBO 'classic,'" Daddy snickers.

A few minutes later, the driver finally stops in front of the Waldorf Astoria hotel on Park Avenue.

"Let's go freshen up in a swanky five star suite," Daddy beams. We grab our luggage and haul it through the gleaming lobby full of Japanese businessmen, eye-fucking me like a dolled-up anime Harujuku bitch. I give them a flirtatious wave as we enter a charming vintage elevator with a dial floor indicator. As soon as the doors close, I literally jump into Daddy's arms and kiss him passionately. Venting my intense erotic energy that was boiling up like a tea kettle ever since we left our Greenwich mansion two hours ago; delayed by a series of traffic jams on I-95. I pull back with a loud throaty gasp, getting nice and wet under myhaute couturesummer dress.

"Damn, Katie. Can't you wait just one more minute?"

"Fine, whatever," I mutter impetuously, feeling his dick getting hard against my yoga-toned belly. "I'll give you a great blowjob as soon as we get to the room. Blowing off steam so you'll be laser-focused on your stupid 'keynote speech.'"

"Fuck yeah, blondie. Just like your motherusedto do," Roger grunts, smacking my yoga-toned ass through a $945 Zimmerman minidress. I wince slightly with the stinging sensation, and with the reminder of his ex-wife Leni. He met that gorgeous Austrian MILF when she was waitressing at a Vienna beer hall, and now she's galavanting around Europe on vacation with another sleazy billionaire. Kids always suffer the most after a divorce, no matter how much money they have for retail therapy.

Daddy keycards into a swanky penthouse suite with lots of fancy frenchy furniture, a fully loaded kitchen with a full liquor bar, and a great view of the Rockefeller Tower. Reminding me of our amazing erotic rendezvous in his corner office at 30 Rock last summer. He pounded my pussy against a picture window on the 69th floor while I gazed down at the iconic water fountain / ice rink next to a nude golden statue of Prometheus; stealing fire from the underworld.

I get naked in a flash and literally dive down on daddy's dick. Yanking that long dong out of his business pants and shoving it all the way into my mouth. (He taught me how to suppress my gag reflex after taking my virginity in our Greenwich hot tub on my eighteenth birthday.)

"Ohhhfuuuuuck," Roger growls toward a Waterford crystal chandelier near the skyline picture window. "Now I'mreallyin a 'New York State of Mind.'"

I giggle with a mouthful, twisting my head up and down his thick shaft at a moderate pace, working my slit in slow circles with my right hand. It feels twice as naughty knowing mommy did the same thing to him in this same hotel two years ago, while I slept in the adjacent bedroom.

"Suck my dick in the shower, bitch," he growls a minute later. I can't get enough of his macho white-collar dominator schtick.

"Fuck yeah, daddy. I'm your little aquaphile whore."

Roger picks me up and carries me into a luxurious Louis Quatorze-style bathroom, similar to the one at our mansion on the north shore of Long Island Sound. He strips bare, steps into a big marble tub, turns on the shower, and shoves me back down on my knees. Cool refreshing water pours all over my lean athletic body as I stroke his long wet penis with both hands.

"You better do a great job tonight, Mister Keofferam. Go out there and make another million at the billionaire convention, so your precious daughter can buy another Dolce and Gabbana bikini. I know how much those turn youon."

"Nothing butla dolce vitafor you, you little brat. Get my dick back in your fucking mouth!"

I resume fellatio frantically, whipping my head back and forth on his massive manhood. Daddy moans ecstatically in the misty air, grabbing my shiny wet bangs and twirling them around like fake golden Barbie hair. We love 'making love' clandestinely in various other watery locations: pools, hot tubs, beaches, rain showers, and even under a waterfall at our private resort in the Maine mountains. Water has a nice primitive purifying effect on our minds, distracting us from the immorality and illegality of it all.

I masturbate just as hard with my left hand, quickly reaching an incredible orgasm. Squirting like a Super Soaker against his legs, screaming ecstatically with a mouthful of meat.

"Nice shot, blondie. NowI'mgonna blow a big one all over your fucking face."

He grabs my blonde hair with both hands and face-fucks me at full speed. Deep throating his submissive daughter like those brainless porn stars we both obsess over.

"I'm going forbigbucks in the Big Apple. You're my good luck charm, you fucking big titskank!"

He pulls out and blasts every square inch of my face with hot soothing jizz, roaring to the rafters. I open wide and stick my tongue way out, savoring another bitter reward.

"Nicershot, daddy," I giggle girlishly, rubbing that stuff between my fingers. Loving the slick creamy sensation on my soft skin after enduring his rough treatment. "Feeling better now?"

"Fuck yeah, I'm buzzing like hell."

"All psyched up for your Rainbow Room rumble?"

"Ready to rumble in the concrete jungle. I'm gonna shake up theworld."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Rainbow Room at Rockefeller Plaza is jam-packed with financial bigwigs, gathering for their annual stock market circle jerk. They all check out my hot bod while filing into their seats. Admiring my glittering rose red $895 Sachin & Babi evening gown and my Charlize Theron-esque face. They all want me, but they can't have me... at leastyet.

Daddy's charismatic CMO "Buffalo" Bill Allen takes the stage, yammering on about how AI will greatly increase workflow efficiency on every trading platform. A few more of his underlings give "motivational" speeches that wouldn't even "motivate" R2-D2. Two unbearably long hours later, daddy storms onto the stage, leaping and fist-pumping like Elon Musk on crack. Roger Keofferam is such a stereotypical 1980's-style "Wolf of Wall Street" type, it's not even funny. Getting his hedge fund troops to hang on his every word like the next Sam Bankman-Fried. Encouraging his minions to maximize Pinnacle's profits by "massaging" other people's money through barely legal loopholes, and encouraging them to buy his latest "get rich quick" book at the nearest Barnes & Noble. ("Your Best Financial Future, NOW!" will only gethimricher, QUICK!)

Daddy rants on and on about puts, calls, and "select sector spider funds" while shooting a few sly grins toward his sexy daughter in the front row. Everyone assumes he's been "playing the field" since divorcing that gorgeous blonde Austrian babe, but onlyweknow the truth. I picture him fucking me roughly against the iconic art-deco Rainbow Room bandstand, getting spanked over and over. Then I picture riding his big dick cowgirl-style on the dance floor beneath that iconic crystal chandelier. Our incestuous affair is totally toxic, like the tip of a flaming poison arrow.

Roger winds up his closing speech with a loud call to "seize the day like the Dead Poet's Society, and keep crunching mad numbers like Good Will Hunting!" He leaves the stage even more maniacally than he arrived, whisking me out of my chair and leading me onto the dance floor. A vintage swing band fires up a lively rendition of "My Blue Heaven," and everyone gathers round as he twirls me like a third-rate Fred Astaire. I try my best to tag along like a drunk Ginger Rogers, flashing my pearly whites at hundreds of phone cameras. Such an exhilarating egotistical rush with taboo undertones. I keep swirling dreamily in that world-famous dinner club, making me wish I followed his footsteps into the rip-roaring American stock market instead of wasting time with history books in merry ol' England.

The Rainbow Room orchestra switches to "Someone to Watch Over Me," a slow romantic ballad. I rest my head on Roger's burly shoulders, sighing pleasantly.

"That was an amazing speech, daddy."

"Your extra 'motivation' really got my motor running," he replies slyly.

"I'll give youmore'motivation' any time you want."

"I'm gonna slap a hold recommendation on this prime mutual fund, if you catch my drift."

"You better not sell that fund till it's 'Grade A prime,'" I utter seductively. He laughs warmly and twirls me around like a princess at the royal ball. The song ends a few minutes later, and we wend our way toward the bar. He orders a glass of bubbly high-end champagne, but I'm only 19, so I order 7-Up.

"I've got a big surprise for you, honey," Daddy beams.

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me," I giggle.

"Let's go over there, where it's more private."

He leads me to a quiet corner of the Rainbow Room. I follow him nervously, loving that devious expression on his face. The orchestra plays "Mood Indigo," setting a mysterious mood.

"I'll cut right to the chase, baby. A bunch of guys from Pinnacle are throwing a masquerade orgy tonight. Wanna come?" he utters eagerly. "Pun intended."

"Oh mygod," I murmur with a strange mix of shock and arousal. "Are you fucking serious?"

"What, did you think we were a bunch of stock market saints?"

"A fuckingorgy,with yourdaughter?That'scrazy,daddy!"

"Not withyou, specifically. We'll just be in the same room, doing the same thing to other people. I know you've been screwing lots of random guys at Oxford, so what's the difference?"

"Those guys don't work for my father. And my father wasn't...with uswhen we were 'doing things.'"

"Please, Katie? I've been dreaming about this for so long, and so has everyone at Pinnacle. Including the girls. You always drive them crazy at our company cocktail parties, acting so damn slutty. Why don't you stop being a cockteaser, and give them a big party favor? An extra 'bonus' on top of their recent pay raise."

Damn, this is happening way too fast. My idealistic illusions about Roger Keofferam are crumbling like a sand castle at high tide. The Rainbow Room starts spinning in a jazz-fueled frenzy.

"I dunno, daddy," I utter so awkwardly.

"Come on, baby. It'll be tons of fun. And besides, you need to get out in the real world and mingle with some 'eligible bachelors.'"

Horniness quickly overpowers my rational mind, as it often does. "All right, all right. A masquerade orgy is at the top of my bucket list."

"Mine too. It'll be a great dirty memory to dwell on when you're hitting those dusty old books at the Bodleian Library."

"Hell yeah, you naughty CEO," I giggle sweetly. "But I didn't bring a mask along, and we don't have enough time to go shopping for one."

"There's a mask in my suitcase, and another one for you. That pink leather cat mask you wore last summer, with a matching bondage harness and fluffy tail."

I suddenly recall that little 'adventure' in vivid detail. I ordered that kinky pink costume from the dark side of the internet while he was working down at 30 Rock. Getting it rush-delivered to our sweet mansion in the swanky Greenwich suburbs. The look on his face when he got home was priceless. He put a pink leather dog collar on my neck and attached a pink leather leash, leading me around like a kinky housecat with my big tits and cute little pussy fully exposed. Then he whipped and fucked his naughty cat girl in the big basement dungeon where he used to dominate my mother.

"You littleshit," I giggle girlishly. My true slutty nature always shines through, getting me in all kinds of trouble.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Fifth Avenue shimmers like a fever dream on muggy summer night. We amble through a sea of tourists along the edge of Rockefeller Plaza, dwelling in fantasy mode just like them. They're just visiting this gleaming island of one-percenter delusions, but I've been wallowing in it as long as I can remember. My whole life has been leading up to this moment, but I was too sheltered and naive to realize my fate. I was destined to be a high class New York ho, like the next Paris Hilton. Now I'm just three blocks away from my grand "debutante ball."

"Buffalo" Bill Allen's condo looms high above 55th and 5th. Another long awkward elevator ride takes us to the fiftieth floor, with loud foreboding swing music emanating from the other end of the hall.

"I'm so nervous, daddy."

"Just relax and go with the flow, like you always do with me."

"One more kiss for good luck, Mister Keofferam," I snicker warmly, wrapping my arms around his muscular shoulders and kissing him tenderly.

"Get your game face on, Miss Keofferam."

"You too, Mister Keofferam."

Daddy puts on his ancient Egyptian Anubis mask with a black leather jackal snout and pointy ears over his face and head, and blue-and-yellow leather Pharaoh tassels draping down his neck.

"Hail Anubis, god of the afterlife," I giggle sweetly. Then I put on my own pink leather cat girl mask, making me feel so damn sexy.

"Hail Bastet, goddess of fertility," Daddy snickers, smacking my ass once again. Bill Allen greets us warmly at his front door, wearing nothing but a furry black bison mask. His dick points long and proud at my pussy while Sinatra's "Come Fly with Me" soars through his HD stereo speakers.

"Good evening, Mister Keofferam. Welcome to our littlesoiree. Your daughter is absolutelyravishingin that dress," Bill beams.

"Yes, indeed. She has her mother's beautyandbrains," Roger replies while caressing my bare shoulders.

"Let's see how ravishing you arewithoutthat dress."

I step into Bill's living room, filled with twelve high-ranking members of Pinnacle Equity management, all wearing nothing but masks. Eight men and four women, plus me and daddy. I reluctantly take off my summer dress, with nothing underneath. Chief Operating Officer David Crenshaw sighs longingly toward my d-cup breasts, and chief financial officer Larry Baines sighs at my blonde crotch. The other female employees aren't nearly as pretty as me, but they're slutty enough to indulge in a wild masquerade fuckfest. Chief People Officer Lynn Hollub giggles beneath her brown horse mask and steps toward me. (Her title used to "Human Resources Director," before that term got demonized during the height of #MeToo mass hysteria.)

"Your daughter is simplybeautiful, Mister Keofferam," Lynn beams. "We've heard all about her sexual 'grand tour' on her Facebook account."

I blush proudly, having shared many juicy tidbits about my Oxford love life on the web. Rich girls just can't help themselves, making everyone else jealous of how much money they have and how much dick they get.

"This slutty kitty loves to party," Daddy beams. "But she's a little nervous about this whole orgy thing. It's her first time," he lies convincingly, winking at me through the Egyptian jackal mask.

"Everyone's nervous their first time," Lynn utters sweetly, tenderly caressing my slender arms. "But once you get going, your inhibitions really fly away," she adds, with her hands sliding over my breasts. I gasp softly behind my stoic cat mask, surging with perverse erotic energy. Her other hand slides down over my pussy, making me gasp louder.

"Oh shit," I moan delightfully. I've never even kissed a girl before, or evenwantedto... but her soft skin and flowery scent are so inviting. The anonymity of our masks makes it less intimidating, while Dean Martin starts singing "Ain't Love a Kick in The Head?" (It sure is!)

"How about a little girl-on-girl action to break the ice, kitty girl?"

"Fuck yeah, pony girl," I groan under my breath, with my eyes rolling toward daddy's Anubis mask. It blocks his true facial expression, but I'm sure it's just as awkward as mine. Lynn giggles sweetly, then she drops down on her knees on the plush purple carpet and buries her face inmycarpet. Slobbering my throbbing teen pussy, making me feel so good.

I moan loudly toward the ceiling while everyone else lines up in front of a royal blue sofa and two matching love seats, stroking cocks and flicking clits while gazing at me creepily through various realistic animal masks. Bison, lion, zebra, bulldog, frog, tiger, wolf, eagle, cobra, alligator, deer, and german shepherd. I don't care who's who under those masks. I just need to get sucked and fucked like hell by a bunch of stock market sleazeballs. Greed for money and sex go hand-in-hand on a primal level, like Wall Street neanderthals.

That busty "chief people officer" nibbles on my clit, making me swoon. She reaches up and grabs my big boobs, framed by four straps of pink leather with little metal rings between.

"Harder, bitch! Squeeze my tits real good!" I bark out, assuming my usual assertive yet submissive character. She squeezes my soft pale hooters painfully hard, just the way I like it. My pussy gets wetter and wetter as her tongue keeps flicking and flicking my little pink pleasure center. Women are more communal and less emotionally inhibited by nature, so no wonder we're three times more likely than men to engage in homosexual activity. I just needed a little spark to blow up my dyke dam.

"See, Itoldyou your inhibitions would fly right away," Lynn coos playfully, glancing up at my big blue eyes with a devilish grin on her full red lips.

Katie Takes Manhattan

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