The Incest Diary

by Anonymous

That week with my father and brother, I wore a blue bikini top. The bottoms were bright red. My father wanted me. I felt his eyes on my shoulders and neck, on my legs, my breasts, and my hips. I held my body differently when I knew he was looking. I wanted to be sexy. I walked differently when I knew he was watching me from behind.

My father pulled off the bedspread and saw my twenty-one-year-old body. I was naked and I was wet. I wanted his big hard cock deep inside me. I was very wet. I wanted him inside me all the way up. I had never felt sexier.

I could make this big strong man hard, and then he would rub it in my pussy, and I liked that and it was just us, just us in the world. Rubbing his big hard cock head in my little hairless pussy. He trusted me to do the right thing. And I did, I rubbed it and I held it throbbing in my little hands and I made him come.

I was angry when my father told me about watching her when he was young. My father would spy on his mother and watch her undress—he said he was excited by her beautiful and full breasts. He told me that he remembers a particular time when she had a white apron around her waist, but she was topless—no shirt and no bra. He was peeking at her from behind a door. He watched her breasts wobble when she moved. He said she was never more beautiful.