But not tonight. Tonight she wished only to be fucked.

She'd long ago learned that her father was glad to trust her judgment. Whatever she felt like doing, that's what he felt like doing.

It was a very convenient relationship.

She slowly slid her body around, letting her breasts drag across his body and then the head of his cock was at the lips of her pussy, lips spread and parted by the angle of her thighs as they straddled his waist, but spread also from the sheer force of her mounting passion.

It was at her, moving at her, in her, sliding through her.

Deep.

Deeper still.

Down, down, all the way to the bottom of her cunt. All the way into the back of her cunt wall. She gasped, for no matter how often he rammed his swollen cock into her, the feeling of a cock first entering you still carries echoes of the first time a cock ever entered you.

It was like rediscovering what your pussy was really supposed to feel like, as if in those dull moments when the rest of the world intrudes and you aren't fucking, you somehow forget it's purpose.

But she always remembered.

Now, he began to slide it in and out, her thick juices providing perfect lubrication.

In and out, faster and faster, he began fucking her like it was the first time he had ever fucked, like it would be the last time he would ever fuck.

Fucking her the way he always fucked her, with passion and desperation.

Harder. Harsher. Hips slamming against hips, sweat mingling, her breasts crushing down on his body beneath her…

She came, five times, ten, a dozen… she had no idea. She knew only that this was why she kept it up, why she found finally, nothing wrong with her relationship with her father.