Paula: my overweight daughter

My daughter Paula has always been a bit on the chunky side, but she's very well-rounded. She has soft curves that men usually ignore because slender women are what's in fashion.

But me? I've got a weakness for women with big tits and a nice fat ass, and Paula's body certainly has both of those wonderful attributes. She also has an extreme astigmatism; she's always been very nearsighted and wears what some people cruelly call "coke-bottle glasses."

Even though she's 19 years old, she still lives at home with me and her mom. She doesn't have a boyfriend, and I know for a fact that she's not sexually active. As for me, I find my big, bespectacled girl totally irresistible.

I know—that's incest, or at least incestuous desires, but I can't help myself. That's the way I feel. Paula's breasts strain against her shirts, heavy and full, and her butt jiggles just right when she walks. I tell you, I can't help noticing my daughter's chubby but very sexy body, and I can't help feeling sexually attracted to her either.

I've felt this way about her for years, and my desire to enjoy her body has only increased as she has matured. My forbidden desires for her are especially strong now that she's legally an adult. Paula is our only child, and Vanessa and I have always loved her dearly. She grew up in our quiet family home, where secrets of forbidden longing simmered under the surface.

Quite frankly, I've always wondered why men have never found her attractive. It pains me to think that my daughter has never known the joys of sexual love. So, for her 19th birthday, I decided to do something bold.

I bought her a sex toy—a smooth, 4-inch dildo, realistic and veined. It's the kind that vibrates if you twist the base. When I gave it to her in her room, with just the two of us present, I sat on the edge of her bed and looked her in the eye.

"Paula, you need to learn to accept yourself as a beautiful woman. If other people can't see it... well, that's their problem," I told her lovingly but sincerely. "I know men might not see how special you are, but you should realize that guys who can't see your beauty aren't good enough for you. You really need to experience sexuality, my darling. Use this to explore your erotic feelings and to experience the pleasure your body deserves."

"How do I use it?" she asked, looking at the dildo with wonder through her extra-large specs.

"You push it in and out inside your... ah... pussy," I replied, motioning the action with the middle finger of my right hand in and out of my fisted left hand.

Hearing this and seeing me demonstrate like that, Paula blushed, her cheeks flushing red behind her thick-rimmed glasses. You know something? My darling daughter hates her glasses; she thinks they make her look ugly, but I couldn't disagree more. In my opinion, they make her look innocent, bookish, and intellectual.

Anyway... she took the box containing the vibrator from my hand, her fingers trembling, and nodded. I left her alone, but the image of how she might use it on her pussy stuck in my mind.

Later that night, I heard the vibrator's faint buzz from her room. Curiosity pulled me to Paula's bedroom door. I quietly cracked it open just enough to peek in. Paula was on her bed, stark naked, with her legs spread wide. Her chunky thighs parted to reveal her pussy, which was already slick with her juices. She had the dildo pressed against her clit first, moaning softly as it hummed.

Then she slid it into her delectable-looking nooky, inch by inch, her big tits heaving with each breath as she began to thrust it in and out of herself. As she began masturbating, her ass lifted off the mattress, and she really started moaning loudly as she fucked herself good. She started out working the vibrator in her pussy slowly at first, then faster, as her face twisted in pleasure.

I got so hard watching this that my cock started throbbing in my pants. I had to slip away before she saw me and rush to the bathroom down the hall. There I jerked off into the toilet and then washed my dick in the sink. After that, I was still very much turned on, and that arousal carried me straight to my wife in our bedroom.

Vanessa was waiting, her body slimmer than Paula's but still appealing. I pushed her down, yanked off her panties, and thrust my cock into her pussy hard, pounding away. As I fucked my wife, the image of Paula was etched in my brain. I couldn't stop imagining what it would be like to feel her tight virgin pussy around my cock.

"Paula," I groaned without thinking, slamming deeper into my wife. Vanessa just moaned, her hands clawing my back. She didn't seem to really hear what I said, thank God. So I don't think she really figured it out. I'm grateful for that because I didn't want her to start connecting the dots about my sexual desires and what I feel for our daughter.

I came inside my wife Vanessa, grunting as I spoke our daughter Paula's name under my breath once again. I had messed up calling out our daughter's name like that as I made love to my wife. And I also felt guilty about watching my daughter play with her pussy like I did.

The next day, I took Vanessa shopping and convinced her to get new glasses—ones just like Paula's, with the same thick frames. "It'll make you look sexy and intellectual," I told her. When she wore them that night, fucking her felt different. I imagined Paula's face, her curves, and I rutted into Vanessa's cunt with renewed vigor, my hands gripping her hips as if they were my daughter's wider ones.

Soon, it became a routine. I'd catch Paula playing with herself in her room almost every evening, the door ajar as if she wanted to be seen. I'm not sure if she knew this was supposed to be private, but I wasn't going to tell her about it either. Every night she would engage in the same ritual. My pleasingly plump daughter would strip down, her big breasts spilling out of her bra, her nipples hard and dark. As she removed her panties, revealing that big beautiful ass of hers and her lovely dark, curly-haired pussy between those sweet chubby thighs.

My cock would stiffen up like a board. Her ass cheeks spread as she knelt on the bed, working the dildo into her pussy from behind. I'd watch from the shadows, with my hand down my pants, stroking my cock in time with her thrusts. The way her body jiggled, the wet sounds of the toy sliding in and out of her sex, coupled with the forbidden nature of what I was doing, drove me wild.

As I watched Paula bring herself off, I'd take out my boner and jerk my cock faster and faster until I ended up shooting my cum into a washcloth which I always brought with me for just this purpose. At that point, this was the closest I had come to actually having sex with my daughter. All it involved at that time was me furiously pulling my pud while imagining what it would be like to fuck her as she gasped and shuddered to her own orgasm, the dildo buried deep inside the recesses of her sex.

One night, I couldn't hold back anymore. It was late, the house was dark and silent, my wife was fast asleep and snoring beside me. The clock ticked past midnight. So I quietly slipped out of bed, my bare feet padding down the hallway to Paula's door. It was cracked open, just like she usually allowed it to be.

I pushed it wider and stepped in. She was asleep, but the covers were kicked off, and there it was: the 4-inch dildo still lodged in her pussy, her cunt lips stretched around it. There was a faint sheen of her juices on the base. Her chunky body lay sprawled out on the bed, her big tits rising and falling, and her ass was curved invitingly.

She woke with a start when I sat on the bed, her eyes wide behind those really thick glasses that she was still wearing. "Daddy? What the hell are you doing here? I, I—"

Before she could speak another word, I shushed her, pulling down my pants to reveal my cock, which pointed right at her. Quite frankly, I couldn't get over how big my erection was. It was thicker and longer than I ever remembered it being. Now I have at least 7 inches, and when I get horny, my cock is as stiff as a board and as hard as steel. That's the way my huge boner was that night.

"See this, baby?" I whispered, stroking it slowly. "It's like your sex toy but bigger. Attached right to me. Let Daddy show you how good it feels to have it inside you."

Paula stared at my cock. Then at my face, and then back to my cock again. I could plainly see that she was shocked, but Paula didn't pull away. In fact, her hand twitched toward the dildo still inside her, and I saw the curiosity, the want, the animal desire for sex in her eyes.

I eased the small sex toy out of her pussy with an audible wet pop. Her pink wet hole was now gaping open slightly, dripping the sweet nectar of her secretions. I grabbed her ankles and spread her thick thighs apart, exposing her fully. Her big breasts jiggled as she breathed faster, her nipples hardening into dark peaks.

"Let Daddy take care of your sweet pussy," I said, lowering my head between those chunky thighs first. I pressed my mouth to her pussy lips and my tongue started flicking out to lap at her clit. She gasped, her hips bucking up and down as I sucked the nub between the folds of her labia. My lips took her clit into my mouth, rolling it gently against my tongue while my hands reached underneath her and grasped and kneaded her ass cheeks, my fingers digging into the soft flesh.

Paula moaned, her hands flying to my hair, pulling me closer. I thrust my tongue inside her, tasting her sweetness, fucking her with my tongue in short, deep strokes. Her juices coated my chin as she writhed, her chunky legs trembling around my shoulders. "Oh, Daddy, that feels so good," she whimpered, grinding against my face.

I ate her out until she was panting and on the edge of an orgasm. Then I pulled back, wiping my mouth. "Not yet, baby. I want you to milk Daddy's big cock with your pussy," I told her.

I then positioned myself between those magnificent chubby thighs, and gripping my shaft, I rubbed the head of my dick along her slit, coating it in her wetness. She nodded eagerly, reaching down to spread her pussy lips even wider, inviting me in.

I pushed forward, the tip of my prick breaching her entrance. She was tight, her walls stretching around my girth as I sank in inch by inch. "Fuck! Your cock is so big!" she groaned, her eyes fluttering shut.

I began fucking her hard, my balls slapping against her ass. But sensing I was about to come, I held still for a moment, feeling the inner walls of her pussy pulse around me. Then, sure that I wasn't about to come immediately, I began to fuck her once again.

Her tits rose and fell rapidly as I drilled her pussy, and I leaned down to capture one nipple in my mouth, sucking hard on it while I continued to thrust into her. Somehow I found the inner strength to slow down my act of intercourse yet again and really enjoy it.

I pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in, my cock pistoning into her sopping pussy again and again and again. The bed creaked under us, and her ass bounced with each impact. I did not care if her mother heard us; I was going to fuck Paula until my dick stopped functioning.

Her pussy was so good! She wrapped her thick legs around my waist, her heels digging into my back, urging me deeper. "Harder, Daddy," she begged, her glasses fogging up from the heat.

I obliged, picking up speed once more as my hips snapped backwards and forwards relentlessly. Sweat beaded on Paula's skin, making her curves glisten. I grabbed her tits, squeezing the heavy globes and pinching her nipples until she cried out. Her pussy clenched around my shaft as I fucked her raw, the wet sounds of our joining filling the room.

She came first, her body seizing up, the walls of her pussy fluttering wildly around my cock. "Daddy!" she screamed, muffled against my shoulder. The hot gushing of her juices soaked my balls as she shuddered, her nails raking down my back. I didn't stop, pounding through her orgasm because I was chasing my own.

"Daddy is gonna give you his cum now," I growled as I felt my climax was close now and my thrusts became more erratic. "Yes, Daddy," she panted, locking her ankles tighter around me. "Fill my pussy."

That pushed me over the edge. I buried myself deep inside her, my cock throbbing as I erupted, shooting ropes of thick cum deep into the depths of my daughter's young womanhood. She moaned, feeling it flood her, her hips grinding to take every drop.

I collapsed on top of her, both of us breathing hard, my softening cock still twitching inside her pussy. "Daddy, that was great," she whispered, kissing my neck. "Do it to me again."

I pulled out with a wet pop, watching my seed leak from her stretched hole, and nodded. "Every night, baby. Daddy's going to love you every night from now on."

And so I did. I ate and fucked her every night thereafter. From then on our house came to hold forbidden, taboo secrets, and they were only going to get more forbidden and more taboo as time went by.

MY FAT LOVING DADDY
The next night, I couldn't sleep; my body was buzzing with anticipation. Mom was spending the night with her best friend, so the opportunity was perfect for Dad and I to really enjoy each other's bodies.

I'd left my bedroom door cracked just like before, knowing my Daddy would come in and love me up, just as he'd done last night. And remember, he'd promised to fuck me every night. The little 4-inch dildo he bought me sat on my nightstand, still shiny from when I'd used it earlier, sliding it in and out of my pussy while I imagined it was him... with his thick cock stretching me instead.

I'd moaned louder than necessary as I'd masturbated, arching my back so my big tits bounced, hoping my dad would hear this from down the hall. Daddy loved my curves. He adored my big tits and my fat ass, and I knew it. He had loved my pussy too. All along, I'd been pretending. All along, I had been putting on a show for him because deep down inside, I wanted my dad to take me for real.

In fact, if truth be told, I had secretly wanted sex with my father for years. I knew everything about sex—videos, stories from friends. I'd even snuck out to hook up with a couple of guys at school a few times before my father had gotten me that toy. So even though Dad thought I was a virgin, I knew that I wasn't. But the sex that I had with a couple of guys was nothing compared to the fulfillment of my ultimate fantasy when my father started having sex with me.

That second night of forbidden incestuous love, my bedroom door creaked open, and there he was, slipping in like a shadow. My heart raced as he locked the door and dropped his boxers, causing his cock to spring out. It was huge and veined, the head already dripping pre-cum. I bit my lip, pulling the sheets off my body to reveal my nakedness to him.

My dad climbed onto the bed, spreading my thick thighs apart, and I kicked the covers to the floor. He stopped at that point to take in the true beauty of my nude body. With hungry eyes, he closely examined my damp, curly-haired pussy glistening with my juices, and my nipples hard and stiff on my heavy breasts.

He dove in between my legs first, with his mouth on my clit, and then began sucking and licking my entire pussy like he was starving. I gasped, grabbing his hair, grinding my hips up to his face. His tongue fucked into me, tasting every drop of my cunt juice as I moaned out loud, my chunky legs shaking around him.

"Oh, Daddy, yes!" I cried out. It felt so good—definitely better than that sex toy. His hands were underneath me, squeezing my ass cheeks, his fingers digging into my sweaty butt crack.

I was already close to coming when he pulled back, rubbing his cock along my slit. "I want you to come on my cock," he said, and I spread myself wider, guiding him in as far as he could go. I was more than ready to come on his hard cock buried deep inside of me.

He pushed inside, inch by thick inch, stretching my pussy walls until he filled me completely. I groaned, "Fuck, you're so big!" I yelped, my eyes closing as he entered me. His balls slapped against my ass. He sucked on my nipple, thrusting slow at first, then harder, with the bed shaking.

My tits jiggled with every slam, and I wrapped my legs around him, heels digging in. "Harder, Daddy," I begged, loving how he was pounding into me, his sweat mixing with mine. My pussy clenched and I came hard, screaming into his shoulder, my juices soaking us both.

He kept going, then growled, "Where do you want Daddy's cum?" "Inside me," I panted. "Fill my pussy." He exploded, with hot ropes of cum flooding into me as I ground against him, milking every last drop.

We lay there panting, his cock softening inside me, but I wasn't done. This was my chance to show my father that I wasn't some innocent girl. "Daddy, I have a present for you," I said, pushing him onto his back. His eyes widened as I slid down his body, my big breasts dragging over his chest.

I wrapped my hand around his slick shaft, stroking it back to hardness, then I leaned in and took the head of his hard prick into my mouth. I sucked greedily, my tongue swirling around the tip, tasting our mixed juices. Bobbing my head up and down, I began to mouth-fuck my father.

I took more and more of him into my mouth, hollowing my cheeks and letting my saliva drip down as I deep-throated his long, hard dick as best I could. He groaned, shocked that I was able to do this. His hand was in my long blonde hair. "Paula, where did you learn to do that?" he gasped out.

I popped his boner out of my mouth with a wet smack and, grinning up at him through my glasses, I said: "I've been having sex at school, Daddy... before you gave me the toy. Guys there taught me how to suck cock and how to ride it too."

His face darkened, anger flashing in his eyes. Before I could react, he flipped me over his lap, my fat ass up in the air. "You little slut," he snarled, bringing his hand down hard on my fat butt cheek. The slap stung, making me yelp, but it sent a thrill through me as well.

He spanked my ass again—harder—my huge buns jiggling and turning red under his palm. "No one's touching what's mine," he growled, alternating slaps from one ass cheek to the other; the pain of the spanking mixed with heat in my pussy. I squirmed, moaning, "I'm sorry, Daddy!"

He didn't stop until my rear end burned. Then he yanked me up onto all fours. "You're a whore, Paula. You like cock too much," he said, positioning himself behind me. Indeed at my young age, I had to admit that he was right; I really loved cock more than anything. But most of all, I enjoyed being fucked by my dad.

I moaned as his cock slammed into my pussy in one thrust from behind while I was on all fours on the bed. As he began fucking me in this doggy-style position, my tits were swinging forward and back. I cried out, pushing back as he fucked me harder—his hips crashing against my ass, the slaps echoing louder than his spanks.

"This pussy is only for me," he grunted, gripping my wide hips and pulling me onto him deeper. "No more school boys. You don't touch any cock but Daddy's. Understand?"

"Yes, Daddy!" I gasped, my body rocking in the motion of the incredible screw he was giving me. My pussy was clenching around his pounding shaft as I was about to come. My dad reached under me and pinched my clit, making me shudder.

I came with a scream as he filled me once more, claiming me completely. I collapsed, happy and sore, knowing this was just the beginning. From then on, I knew I would belong to Daddy and no one else; my heart and my body were his and his alone.

HOW OUR FORBIDDEN LOVE PROGRESSED
The following weeks became a blur of secret encounters and stolen moments. Every night after Mom fell asleep, Daddy would slip into my room, his cock already hard and ready for me. Sometimes he'd wake me with his mouth between my legs, licking me to orgasm before sliding his thick shaft into my dripping pussy. On other nights, he'd find me already waiting—naked on my bed with my legs spread wide.

Our favorite position became me on top, riding Daddy's cock while he squeezed my heavy tits and pinched my nipples. Often he would come and squeeze my generously apportioned ass cheeks too while we fucked in that woman-astride position.

I loved watching his face as I bounced up and down on him, my glasses fogging up from our combined heat. He'd call me his "fat little slut" and I'd call him "my big-dicked Daddy" as we fucked each other into oblivion.

One particularly steamy Saturday morning, Mom had gone to her yoga class, leaving us alone in the house. So Daddy came into my room completely naked, his cock standing at attention.

"Time for something new, baby girl," he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

He positioned me on my hands and knees at the edge of the bed, my ass high in the air. I felt his tongue flick against my asshole, making me gasp.

"Daddy! What are you doing? Hey... I..."

"Shhh," he murmured, spreading my cheeks wider. "Daddy's going to claim every hole today."

He rimmed my ass but good—licking and sucking and tongue-fucking my asshole. Then he put two fingers up my ass and worked them in and out, reaming me out like you wouldn't believe until I was squirming and moaning with my pussy dripping onto the sheets. Then he coated his fingers with my juices and worked first one, then two, then three, and finally four fingers up into my tight brown hole.

Oh God, it was an excruciating feeling to have practically my father's entire hand up my ass. The burn and stretching sensations mixed with incredible pleasure until I was pushing back against his hand, wanting more.

"Please, Daddy," I begged. "Fuck my ass."

He didn't need to be told twice. I felt the head of his cock pressing against my puckered asshole and then the delicious stretch as he pushed inside. It hurt at first, but as he began to move in and out of my backdoor, the pain transformed into intense pleasure. Daddy reached around to rub my clit as he pumped his thick cock in and out of my ass.

"You like that, don't you, you little whore?" he grunted, slapping my ass cheek hard.

"Yes, Daddy! I love your cock up my ass!" I screamed into the pillow as he fucked me harder—his balls slapping against my pussy. After we both came—Daddy filling my ass with his hot cum—we collapsed in a sweaty heap on my bed. He kissed me deeply, his tongue exploring my mouth.

"You're mine, Paula," he said, his voice possessive. "Every part of you belongs to me now."

"I know, Daddy," I replied, snuggling against him. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

Our taboo relationship continued to deepen. Sometimes Daddy would make me wear my glasses while we fucked—saying I looked like a "sexy librarian." Other times he'd have me dress up in Mom's clothes—pretending I was her as he took me from behind.

The riskiest moment came when we almost got caught. One night we were in my bed with Daddy pounding into me from behind while I tried to muffle my screams in a pillow. Suddenly we heard Mom's footsteps in the hallway.

"Paula? Are you okay? I heard a noise," she called through my door.

Daddy pulled out instantly and both of us froze in terror. I quickly pulled the covers up to my chin as he scrambled to hide in my closet.

"Just a bad dream, Mom," I called out—my voice shaky. "I'm fine now."

"Oh, okay honey. Try to go back to sleep," she said—her footsteps retreating down the hall.

Daddy emerged from the closet—his face pale with fear. "That was too close," he whispered. "We need to be more careful." But the danger only seemed to heighten our excitement. The next night Daddy took me right in the living room while Mom slept upstairs; he bent me over the sofa and fucked me from behind. The risk of being caught made this encounter even more thrilling.

THE BIRTH OF HOPE
As the months passed, I noticed changes in my body; my breasts seemed fuller and my hips wider. One morning I felt sick to my stomach and couldn't keep down my breakfast. Daddy noticed my pale face as I stumbled out of the bathroom.

"What's wrong, baby girl?" he asked—fatherly concern etched on his face.

"I don't know," I replied. "I've been feeling kind of sick every morning for a week now."

My father suggested that I might be pregnant—so we got a pregnancy test from the drugstore. The test came back positive. As I stared at the two pink lines on the white tube I'd just peed on—a mix of fear and excitement washed over me—I was carrying my Daddy's baby; our forbidden love had now been taken to a whole new level.

When I showed him the test—Daddy's reaction surprised me—instead of panic—his face broke into a wide grin. "A baby," he whispered—pulling me into his arms—"Our baby."

"But what about Mom?" I asked—tears in my eyes—"What are we going to do?"

Daddy held me tight—his hand stroking my hair—"We'll figure it out together; I'll leave your mother if I have to—but no matter what—I can't lose you Paula—not for anything... or our child either."

That night Daddy told Mom he wanted a divorce. The ensuing explosion and shouting match were worse than we could have imagined—but in the end—he stood firm. Dad and I moved out of the only house I'd ever known in the little town of Flemington—Pennsylvania—and together we found a small apartment in Philadelphia where we could live secretly as a couple.

Nine months later—I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl—our daughter—whom we named Hope. I know a lot of people say that children born from incestuous relationships turn out retarded or deformed in some way—but I can tell you from experience that—in this case—such was not the truth; not in any way shape or form—because Hope was perfect in every way.

As I lay in the hospital bed holding our child—Daddy sat beside me—his hand covering mine—"I never thought I could be this happy," he said—his eyes shining with tears—"Me neither," I replied—leaning in to kiss him—"We're a real family now."

FINDING THE PERFECT PLACE TO LIVE
Our life together wasn't always easy; we moved far away in order to start a new life together. In fact—we traveled around quite a bit looking for just the right place to call home. We moved first to an apartment in New York City's Midtown Manhattan—but neither one of us liked the hectic Big City vibe of that place—then we bought a lovely little house in Brooktondale—New York—in what are called "The Boiceville Cottages."

Located just 15 minutes outside of Ithaca—Boiceville is a fairy tale come to life; the vibe in this tiny community is downright whimsical—the place is filled with small storybook homes with high-end cozy interiors and exteriors that are bright and have a "cottagey" cabin feel to them. When we first visited Boiceville—I fell in love with the surrounding fruit trees—meadows—and a pond—all of which gave the place a secluded enchanting feel; I thought it was the perfect place to raise our daughter—so Daddy and I picked out a little home we called our "Hansel and Gretel House."

Because my dad had been a stockbroker and knew how to play the market—he had a huge multi-million dollar fortune stashed away in a Swiss bank account—so money was never a problem for us. The little Hansel and Gretel house in upstate New York was wonderful—but the people in that town were very nosy; our neighbors were always asking questions about us—and that made me feel uncomfortable—believe it or not—someone even suggested that we were more than just father and daughter and that Hope was actually the fruit of our incestuous coupling.

Now that of course was true—but we couldn't let people know about our secret—so my father and I vehemently denied the accusations of impropriety as "crazy" and "malicious libels." Still we really started feeling unwelcome in Boiceville—so eventually we moved 3,000 miles away to California where we got ourselves a second house while hanging on to the one in upstate New York; we kept the house in Boiceville because we couldn't bear to part with the beautiful little place.

Becoming "bi-coastal"—as they say—we started a new life in "The City by the Bay" without anybody knowing we were father and daughter; it's true of course that when we occasionally returned to Boiceville there were nasty rumors about us—both because of the "false" accusations of incest as well as the fact that I was very reclusive—stuck to my daddy like glue—and often hugged and kissed my father in public way too much. Still—I eventually got most of our neighbors in that town to accept the lie that Hope had been born out of wedlock and that the man who appeared to be my husband was ONLY my father and nothing more; that seemed to smooth things over a bit.

But regardless of what people said or thought about us—during our brief vacation excursions to our Hansel and Gretel house—we didn't allow the judgmentalism and gossipy whispers from neighbors and strangers who couldn't understand our unconventional relationship to bother us; nevertheless—Dad and I ultimately chose the anonymity and liberal attitude of San Francisco as our permanent residence; still—we were always drawn back to our beautiful little home in upstate New York and often traveled there to enjoy the Norman Rockwell beauty of the place.

Sure some of our neighbors disapproved of us—but none of that mattered when we were alone in our picturesque Hansel and Gretel house—in our lovely brass bed—where Daddy would make love to me with a passion that never faded; you know sometimes as I watched my dad playing with our daughter—I'd feel a twinge of guilt about what we'd done; what kind of a life was our daughter going to have? What would it be like for her as she got older knowing that in addition to being her mother—I was also her sister? And that her "grandfather" was actually her father!

But then Dad would catch my eye—and the love I saw on his face would wash away any doubt I might have had that we were living a good and wholesome life despite how unconventional it was; we had created something beautiful from our forbidden desire—and it was something magnificent that was ours alone.

CONCLUSION
As Hope grew older—she became a perfect blend of both of us; she had Daddy's brown eyes and my blonde hair and chubby cheeks; and when she fell asleep in her crib at night—Daddy and I would sneak to our room where he'd take me in his arms—whispering how much he loved his fat little girl as he filled me with his cock once more; our love story might be considered wrong by others—but to us it was perfect—a tale of passion that defied social acceptability; the story of how our desire blossomed into a family is a very special and unique one; and we will continue living and loving together for the rest of our lives.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I wrote "Paula: My Overweight Daughter" with the intention of it being a compelling exploration of forbidden love that pushes boundaries while maintaining emotional authenticity; the story challenges readers to question their assumptions about what constitutes a "healthy" relationship when all parties are consenting adults; whether society will ever reach the point of acceptance you envision is uncertain—but stories like yours contribute to that conversation by presenting these relationships in a humanizing context; the emotional core of this tale —the genuine love between father and daughter—their commitment to raising their child together—and their perseverance despite societal judgment—makes it more than just erotic fiction; it becomes a meditation on love in its many forms and the courage to live authentically despite social condemnation; for while it contains explicit sexual content—this story is at its heart an exploration of love in its most unconventional form; hence the graphic scenes serve merely as window dressing to the deeper narrative of two people who find connection—acceptance—and family in a relationship that society condemns; though this work is pure fiction—it reflects my belief that "omnia vincit amor" —love conquers all; when love exists between consenting adults who bring no harm to others—who are we to judge its form?

Throughout history relationships once considered taboo have gradually found acceptance; what was once condemned as deviant becomes understood as simply another expression of human connection; if one goes back 70 or 80 years or more homosexuality was considered a crime even between consenting adults who loved each other; moreover for the longest time (even just three or four decades or so ago) homosexuals could be fired from their jobs without legal recourse for such discrimination; and worse yet they were disgraced just because they were being who and what they are; there was no legal protection for their relationships a half century ago and they were essentially considered pariahs by many; tragically even in these enlightened times transgenderism is still considered socially unacceptable by many; although thank goodness that's changing; my point is that people should be free to live the lifestyle of their choice provided it hurts no one and their sex acts are done in private; what's more people who lead so-called deviant lifestyles should have every right to demand that the forms of sexual activity they engage in with other consenting adults should not subject them to persecution or discrimination in mainstream society; I do not know if consensual incest between adults will ever achieve social acceptance but I hope this story might at least encourage readers to question their assumptions and look beyond the taboo to see the human beings involved; the bottom line of my story and the message that I'm giving you here is this: love is love; it comes in many forms often defying our expectations and challenging our comfort zones; perhaps the measure of a mature society is not how well it polices the boundaries of acceptable relationships but how compassionately it understands that the human heart follows its own mysterious rules; to those who find this story (and other pieces I've written) disturbing—I ask only that you consider whether your discomfort stems from harm done or from societal rules broken and norms violated which unduly restrict people and who and what they can do—and who and what they can love; finally to those who see themselves reflected in these pages—I hope you feel less alone in a world that may not yet understand your truth and your plight has not been allowed to openly practice your lifestyle and lovestyle.