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Veronica Mars: Keith's Confession (Mf,inc)
by Tronbox ([email protected])

I heard a noise in the middle of the night. I woke up because I'm the lighter
sleeper and once I'm awake, I hear noises all through the house and can't get
back to sleep until I know everything is all right.

I knew it had to be Veronica, my seventeen-year-old daughter. She was
supposed to be home hours ago, but if she had arrived on time, she hadn't
woken me up. That meant she probably had come home very late.

I was trying to give her more responsibility. She was almost eighteen. This
was her last year in high school and soon she'd be going off to college. I
stumbled out of bed and threw on my robe to go see what she was up to at
this hour of the night.

I found the front door partially open. Damn it, Veronica, I thought to
myself, how are you ever going to make it on your own if you can't even close
the door behind you?

I followed a trail of strewn sweaters and sneakers, picking each up in turn
until I got to Veronica's room. The light was on, but no Veronica. That's
when I noticed the light on in her bathroom and the door half open.

"Veronica, are you home, baby?" I called out softly at the door. No answer.

"Veronica, are you in there, baby?" Still no answer.

I nudged open the door and almost fainted at the site that greeted my eyes.

My daughter Veronica was sprawled on the floor, dressed only in her panties
and a short, tight halter top. It looked as though she had been hugging the
commode and had keeled over on her side in a drunken stupor. Her hair was
disheveled; her make-up was a mess. She was trashed.

"Ah dammit, Veronica, is this what you call being responsible?" I scolded
her.

I wet a washcloth with cold water and flushed the toilet before bending down
on the floor beside her. I wiped her face, trying to get at least the bulk
of the mess off. I guess I was lucky that she hadn't thrown up all over the
floor. The front of her shirt was soaked, but other than that, I think she
made it to the toilet in time to puke her guts out. She literally reeked of
alcohol, too.

I don't think she even could tell I was washing her face off. There was
literally no response at all to my ministrations.

I had a couple of options. I could leave her there and let her learn her
lesson. Or I could be the good father that I am and try to clean her up and
put her to bed myself.

I didn't really see that I had a choice.

After wiping up her face, I tried to determine a course of action. The halter
would have to go. It was sticky with vomit and it smelled like liquor too, a
nasty combination.

Even so, I was hesitant. I hadn't seen Veronica's breasts since she was
fourteen, and even then only briefly. She had been showering in our
bathroom on a Saturday afternoon for some reason and I had walked in on
her unexpected. Still, she hadn't seen me and I had lingered, looking at
her slender body as she washed. I still remember the way her breasts and
ass had looked that day with the water cascading off of her as she twirled
under the spray.

I shook my head. Where had that thought come from? I hadn't thought about
that for years.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. I had tried not to think about it for years.
Sometimes I had not been so successful.

Veronica was certainly a mess. Maybe she needed a shower to clean up. It
would only be the right thing to do, wouldn't it? Isn't that what they do
with drunks in the movies to sober them up? They put them under a cold
shower.

But not with that shirt on. Maybe it would shrink or something. Maybe I
should really remove her halter just to make sure it didn't shrink. It was
such a mess, anyway.

I propped Veronica up between me and the bathtub and, taking the hem of the
halter in both hands, began to slowly strip it off her.

My breath caught in my throat. They were gorgeous! Veronica's tits were
gorgeous! My daughter was a honey blonde with skin that tanned easily, but
it was winter and her stomach and chest were fair under her blouse. She had
a slender belly and two lush mounds of tit flesh that wobbled as the blouse
came off over her head. Each breast was capped with a soft brown nipple that
made my teeth sweat.

Oh man, I had to think about something else! I ran the washcloth under the
water again, only this time I ran warm, soothing water. That blouse had been
such a mess. Her neck and her chest would have to be wiped off. Somebody had
to do it.

I laid her back gently onto the bathmat and knelt over my daughter, gently
wiping her lovely, thin neck. Each stroke of the cloth went lower and lower.
I tried not to look at her, tried not to stare at the wonderfully tender
flesh of my only child. Tried not to see the firm breasts as my hands passed
over them, separated only by the rough washcloth. It was rough, wasn't it?
Far too rough.

Forgive me, baby, my thoughts echoed. Daddy didn't mean to use such a rough
cloth.

I knelt uncontrollably and took a soft nipple into my mouth, tonguing her
tender flesh compulsively.

"Oh Veronica," I murmured into each soft tit in turn. "Oh baby. So
beautiful."

I kissed the smooth undersides of each breast, sucking the warm flesh into
my mouth, caressing it with my tongue. I watched her face for any reaction
whatsoever, but there was not so much as a flutter of an eyelid. I raised
her arms over her head and rubbed my face into her armpit, rubbing her scent
and smell all over my face and in my hair. She was intoxicating. In a very
short time, I was almost as drunk as she was.

My mouth wandered aimlessly down her belly, my tongue dipped into her navel.
I sucked the supple flesh of her abdomen. Then I wandered even farther down.
Without daring to think about the consequences, not wanting to consider
stopping, I went even farther down.

I lay my head on my daughter's mound, panting. What was I doing? What would
I do if I got caught? If Veronica woke up? This was themost insane thing I
had ever done in my life.

I breathed deeply, taking in my daughter's musky aroma. She filled my lungs.
The smell of her stirred me up like some great beast. Some primordial,
animalistic portion of my mind seemed to take control, to grip me and hold
me tight in its grasp.

Veronica was so ripe, so fertile. She was a field ready for planting. She
was the mowed grass of fall ready for bailing and harvest. She was the lush,
abundant overgrowth that needed to be cleared and plowed under. My hands were
quivering with the need to touch her. My mouth was open and panting with the
need to taste her.

Damning the consequences, I pulled off my daughter's panties and buried my
face into the warm musk of her crotch. The soft honey of her pubic hair
tickled my lips and nose. My tongue dipped and tasted, savored and sampled
her tenderest flesh -- the rich, loamy flesh of my daughter's cunt.

I lay on my belly and went as low as I could go, nuzzling the deepest spot of
her cleft with my nose, snaking my tongue out to taste her puckered anus. But
it was the sweet, gentle flower of her vagina that I suckled and kissed the
longest.

I brought each lip into my mouth and savored it. I ran my tongue as deep as
I could. As my nose bumped against her clitoris, Veronica moaned and her legs
raised up in a vee. It should have made me stop. Instead, it gave me better
access to her and I was mad with lust. Sliding my tongue deep inside her, I
slurped the flavor of the sweetest cunt a father can taste, the cunt of his
own daughter.

My erection throbbed against the cold tile of the floor. I realized I had
been humping uncontrollably, my hips rising and falling to the depth of my
tongue in her cunt. With that realization came a deep hunger and a craving.
I had to have her. I had tasted Veronica with my hands and my tongue. Now I
had to taste her with my cock.

The thought was the catalyst to the deed. Such an insane, unspeakable
thought. It was the craziest idea yet. Surely she would come awake if I
fucked her. There was no way I could get away with it, was there? Was
there any chance at all? Did I even care if I got caught anymore?

As if to answer my own question, I found myself spreading her legs wider. I
crawled between them and spit into my hand, slathering my saliva on my hard,
throbbing cock.

Before my rational mind could talk the rest of me out of it, I thrust in. I
sank my shaft into the depth of her, taking her tight hole completely in one
shove. I screwed down, driving my cock into my daughter like a spike. She
grunted and tossed her head to the side. I watched, gripped with fear,
expecting to see her eyes glare at me, to catch me with my dick deep in her
forbidden vagina.

Instead, her head lulled to one side and a thin thread of saliva fell from
her open mouth onto the tile floor.

Taking that as some sick omen, I began to thrust into Veronica. I slid into
her slick warmth easily. She couldn't be a virgin, I thought. This was a cunt
that felt like it had been fucked hundreds of times. It molded itself to me
lovingly. The folds of her vagina gripped me. Her unconscious hips seemed to
move easily, rocking back and forth on the plump cheeks of her ass.

I wondered how many times she had been fucked just like this. Maybe
thousands. Her body seemed to know just how to respond. Even when
unconscious! How often would a girl have to be fucked before her body
responded like this? How many times just tonight, I wondered. How
often? With whom? Who was this little whore fucking? Duncan, Logan,
god knows else had experienced exactly what I was at this moment.

Suddenly I was filled with rage and each bit of rage transferred from my hips
directly into hers. I fucked Veronica with long, fierce strokes, pounding her
cunt into the tile. I wanted her awake now. I wanted her to come into
awareness so I could confront her with her promiscuity. My dick knew. My body
could tell she was a whore.

Damn, I fucked her hard. I fucked her so hard I was practically in pain
myself. Still her slutty head just seemed to wobble limply as I hammered her.
I couldn't get any reaction at all from her body. She was so used to fucking,
that even this hard pounding wasn't enough for her.

But I knew what would get a reaction. Suddenly, I knew just what to do to a
nasty whore like Veronica.

I pulled out and picked her limp body up and laid her over the closed seat of
the commode. She had been hugging the toilet before. Now she would again.

Throwing off my robe altogether, I scooped handfuls of warm water and doused
my sticky crotch and hard cock. Then I pumped a whole handful of liquid soup
into my palm and slathered it onto my hard shaft. I pumped my stiff rod,
pumped it until it was hard and slick.

Coming up behind my kneeling daughter, I spread the cheeks of her ass with
firm hands and seated the head of my penis into her asshole. With a deep,
guttural moan, I shoved my cock into this whore's ass, stabbing her with it
in one hard thrust.

Now the bitch groaned! Oh, yea! And she groaned again when I pulled back and
shoved it in deep again. But she was such a whore that after four or five
hard thrusts she grew quiet once more. But by then it didn't matter.

Suddenly nothing mattered but fucking Veronica's ass. My hard cock thrust
over and over, my balls bitch-slapped her, punishing her for her infidelity.
Faster and faster I rammed her, the slick soap helping me to slide deeper and
deeper. It felt like the head of my cock should be coming out her mouth. Her
ass was so tight... so tight ... so hot ... so tight ...

Each shove brought me closer. Each thrust took me higher. Each fuck carried
me deeper. And the final, last jab took me to paradise!

I squirted strand after hot strand of thick, sticky cum into Veronica's ass.
I gripped her hips and fired volley after volley into her. Deeper and deeper
I kept sliding and cuming, grinding and cuming and cuming and cuming!

I knelt, panting. Gradually I pulled my tender penis out of Veronica. It
plopped out, dribbling cum and soap over both of us. I grabbed a nearby towel
and mopped up our mess, soaking up the funk and the goo as it flowed out of
her gapping anus. I cleaned us both up as much as I could. She was still a
mess. There was only so much that could be done about that.

I did what I could to clean us both up, using the washcloth and a little more
soap to clear away the damage. Then I left Veronica lying naked, hugging the
commode.

It was Saturday morning and I was drinking coffee and reading my paper when
Veronica rolled out of bed. Already the night seemed like a strange memory
to me.

"You came home late last night," I said in a gentle, fatherly tone.

"Too late," Veronica muttered. "I'll never do that again, Dad. I hurt all
over."

"I thought I heard you ... shall we say, 'Puking your guts out,' ... last
night after you got home. What was that about?"

"I just had a terrible night, Daddy. I don't even remember most of it after
a couple of girlfriends and I started drinking. I'm sorry, I know I'm too
young to do that. I was just sad because had a fight with Duncan last night."

"Come sit in my lap and tell me about it. That's good, baby. Now what
happened?"

Veronica laid her head on my shoulder and looked at me with sad, little girl
eyes.

"He just wasn't nice to me like you are, Daddy. He always wanted to do things
I didn't feel comfortable doing, if you know what I mean."

"It's okay, baby-girl. Just let Daddy hold you and forget about all those
mean boys out there. Daddy will take care of you."

I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with my daughter's scent.

    

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