[INCEST] Father make love with daughter...Half true incest stories!
This incest story is my friend's story, only part true. I took my diary and changed it to make it a much better read. Names and other such details have been changed.
If you don't like incest genre, you can leave this topic OR you can think this girl is your daughter:
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori8.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori1.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori2.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori3.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori4.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori5.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori6.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori7.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori9.jpg
http://pic2.bon99.com/?v=leehyori10.jpg
or you can watch this incest series:
http://bon99.com/tag/taboo/
I'm sure you will have more excitement to read this incest story!
BUT remember! Don't make incest come true alike my friend! My friend do it because he have daughter so hot!
Now, Let's Start:
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Father/Daughter...underage.
Dear Diary,
Seems a bit ironic that I get you on the worst day of my life. It’s should have been the best day of my life. Today was my birthday. I knew it was going to turn out bad when my dad gave me this childish diary with cartoon animals all over the place. What am I? Eight? Fifteen Dad, come on! I’m not much for writing, but I’m so upset today I had to do something. Today my parents told me they are getting divorced, can you believe it?
()~~~()~~~()
Isabella looked down at the mess of wrapping paper in her lap and fished out the thick book. The cover was white and was littered with kittens and puppies romping around. All the rest of the available space was filled with neon pink hearts. A useless tiny lock dangled from one side. The kind of cheap lock you could pick with a bobbie pin.
“Wow dad.” Isabella muttered, flashing him a forced smile as she tucked her raven black hair behind her ears. Why was she not surprised that her father decided to do some last minute birthday shopping. “A diary, thanks!". She tried not to sound so half-hearted as she flipped the book over to discover the same cartoon animals on the back.
Her father smiled up from his paperwork. He was in his late thirties with jet-black hair, board shoulders and a tad over six feet tall. They sat at the dinner table, dinner having just ended. Isabella’s mother washed dishes in the kitchen. Because it was her birthday, Isabella was exempt from dish duty. “I’m glad you like it Bella. I saw a girl waiting at the bus stop writing in one just like that. She couldn’t have been over 10 years old, she reminded me so much of you at that age. You sure have grown up Isabella. You’re not my little girl anymore.” He said with a wistful, faraway sound to his voice and his smile grew.
Well when he put it like that… “It’s nice dad. Different, but nice.” Isabella didn’t mind the strange gift really. Her father was a busy man. Most of the time she just got an extra large allowance on her birthday. Enough money to buy whatever she wanted. A gift was a nice change, even if it was meant for someone a few years younger. “It’s a change.” Isabella echoed her thoughts softly.
A silence fell then, her father returned to his paper and the dishes clinked as her mother washed them. In contrast to her father, Isabella’s mother was short, with bright, bottle blonde hair, she was curvy, but age had rounded her curves a little more than usual. Put the two together and she was what they got.
Isabella was slightly shorter than her mother, a wisp of a girl but with all the curves her mother had in her youth, breasts that were a palm full and hips that curved to a small but firm ass. She inherited her mother’s pale skin and big green eyes, but her father gave her her blue-black hair. Isabella was small, but not delicate. She was tough, having participated in many school sports and activities. And at her age, the last thing she expected for her birthday was a diary fit for a tween.
“Speaking of change.” Her mother’s voice rang, jolting her out of her thoughts. “There’s something we need to talk to you about.”
“Elly.” Her father warned, and Isabella saw her mother’s back go ridged.
“Well we have to talk about it sometime.” Elly snapped over her shoulder.
“Not on her birthday.” Jonathan returned, not once looking up from his paper.
“Talk about what?” Isabella glanced from one parent to the other. Their little scraps didn’t bother her anymore, she was use to it. She used her forefinger to poke her little silver rimmed glassed higher on her nose.
“Nothing Bella Baby. Don’t worry about it.” Her father reassured gently, glancing up at her.
“It is something, and stop calling her that. She’s not a child anymore, don’t coddle her.” Elly slammed the last plate into the drying rack and dried her hands on a dish cloth.
“I’ll coddle her for the rest of my life, Elly. She’s my only baby girl. I’m allowed to.” Jonathan gave up on his paperwork and abandoned it. He flashed his wife a glare even though her back was turned, drying the dishes.
“Hey! Talk to me about what?” Isabella pushed, wadding up the wrapping and tossing it into the trash from her chair. “I’m a big girl, I’m sure I can hear it on my birthday.” She said, smiling to herself. Her mother turned around, drying a dish in her hand.
“You’re father and I are getting a divorce.” She said quickly.
The smile faded from Isabella’s face. “You are?” She glanced back and fourth between her parents again. The heat rushed from her face, leaving her feeling cold and heavy with dread. “W-why? When?”
Jonathan sighed. “You’re mother and I talked about it some time ago Bella, please understand.”
Isabella felt her heart pounding behind her ribs; she clutched the hard cover of the diary painfully to her stomach. “But you guys hardly get into any fights, or anything.” Was one of them cheating? Again her eyes flashed to her mother and back to her father. No, her mother was too churchy, too prideful for sleeping around. And her father was loyal, and wouldn’t want to hurt the family. At least she thought so. Perhaps she didn’t know her parents at all.
“The little arguments your father starts are enough, they are worse than fights.” Her mother snapped, grabbing another dish to dry.
“The paperwork is already here, Bella Baby, it will be awhile before it is final. Two, maybe three months.” Her father added.
Surprised, Isabella felt tears stinging her eyes. She should be thankful that her parents had stayed together as long as they had. All her friends had parents that had separated years ago. She was too old to cry about it. But the tears wouldn’t stop building. “Who’s idea was it?” She said between her teeth to hold back the sob that wanted to escape her throat. Her eyes darted directly to her mother. Out of the two of them, she seemed to be the most unhappiest.
“It was my idea.” Her father said softly.
Stunned, Isabella slowly turned to the handsome face of her father. He looked at her for only a moment before looking away.
“Dad?...why?” she was shocked to feel such…betrayal. She had always been closer to her father. She was stunned that he would keep this from her. She was part of this family too Damnit! Horrified to find that she couldn’t hold back her tears, she let them fall to her cheeks and she bolted out of the chair and raced up the stairs to the second floor and into her room. She slammed the door in a very adolescent way and sat on her bed. She clutched the diary to her as she cried. She cried good and hard for only a minute before she forced herself to stop.
“I’m being a baby.” She muttered to herself, glancing over at her reflection in the mirror over her dresser. Her face was red a puffy from the crying, her eyes were red and still watery. Thankfully, her mother didn’t allow her to wear make-up, so she was saved from having to mop up that kind of horror show. Her glasses were speckled from where her lashes had flicked her tears on the lenses. She took them off and used her shirt to rub the spots away. As she did this, there was a knock on her door.
“What?” She snapped, not looking up from her glasses.
“Bella? It’s me, can I come in?” Her father asked through the door.
Defeated, Isabella quickly scrubbed her eyes dry, “Sure.” She answered, wiping her hand quickly against her cheeks to remove the tear streaks on her face. She turned as her father walked in, the hurt in his eyes made her look away.