Tell her it's what you wanted

Driven by an overwhelming fear of her father, you utter precisely the words he would want to hear: "No, it's what I wanted." The words felt hollow as they left your lips, like an echo in an empty room. But she could see right through you, her eyes piercing like a hawk's as she rose from her seat. "Fine," she said, her voice laced with a mix of resignation and disappointment. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to." Her words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken truths, as she turned away.

Two months later

Amy approaches you with a determined unwavering look, her eyes locking onto yours, "I have a question for you" she states firmly. "But if you lie to me again, I'll drop it, and that will be it…. Did you have sex with me on the night of our wedding?" Her voice carries the weight of an ultimatum, and you can feel the intensity of her gaze, as if she can see straight through any deception.

You know her well enough to understand that she can detect even the slightest falsehood, so you're on the brink of confessing the truth when, out of the corner of your eye, you catch sight of Greg glancing inside the door. The fear of his potential anger grips you tightly. "Ha… ya, of course, yes, we did," you stammer, trying to sound convincing.

Amy's expression remains unchanged as she steps closer, wrapping her arms around you in an embrace that feels both tender and distant. "Ok, honey…” Her voice lingers in the air, a long pause stretching between words, as if she were trying to bury her true emotions beneath a calm exterior. Finally, she steps up, her voice breaking the silence with an unexpected intensity, "Guess what honey. WE ARE PREGNANT!” she announces. Although this should be a moment of pure joy, her words carry an unsettling chill, an undercurrent of iciness that leaves you bewildered and off-kilter. As she turns, her silhouette fading into the shadows where her father has just vanished, an uneasy knot forms in your chest.

It's not so much that she's outright lying to you, but rather her voice hints at something hidden, a secret lurking just beneath the surface. The abruptness with which she leaves after delivering such life-altering news, not even allowing you a moment to respond, only amplifies your concern. Having a child is a monumental event, one that typically invites couples to linger in conversation for hours, discussing dreams and plans for the future. Yet, she dropped this bombshell and walked away in the blink of an eye, leaving you standing there, rooted to the spot in disbelief.

In a haze of confusion and shock, you stumble after her, your mind racing to catch up with reality. By the time you reach the room, she is already engaged in conversation with her father. "Hey, Daddy, guess what! You're going to be a granddad. John and I are pregnant." Her voice, now filled with an almost tangible excitement, reverberates in the room. It strikes you how much more true excitement she had telling her father than when she told you.

Greg's eyes lift, meeting yours over her shoulder, a smile spreading across his face as he congratulates, "Congratulations," pulling her into a warm embrace.

Amy nestles her face against his broad chest, a gesture of comfort and familiarity. "Daddy, do you remember when you pretended to breed me?" she murmurs, her voice soft as a summer breeze.

Greg's face briefly twists into a grimace, a fleeting storm cloud of pain and fear that his clandestine plan has been discovered. His lips part hesitantly, the single syllable "Yes?!?"

She tilts her head back, gazing up at him with eyes that are both pouty and pleading. Her lashes flutter as a soft sigh escapes her lips. Her eyes dance across her father's face as she continues, "Daddy, I think the pregnancy is making me feel... restless," Her voice is a gentle purl, like a babbling brook.

Her father seizes on her last word, his brows knitting together in an inquisitive frown. “Restless!?!” His tone sharp, a crack of thunder in an otherwise placid conversation.

She whimpers in response, her voice quivering, barely audible, like the faintest rustle of leaves.

“Yes daddy.” As she reaches out and grasps his strong hands, his rough skin is warm against her soft palms.

Greg's voice rumbles like distant thunder, a low growl that seems to resonate from deep within his chest. “Restless? How so?”

She whispers barely loud enough for you to hear “I’m horny dad.” Her cheeks flush pink, the color of a summer sunset.

Greg grins over his daughter's shoulder, his eyes meeting yours in a conspiratorial glance, as if he already knew the answer before he even asked. “What about John?” His strong voice is a low rumble, a distant storm.

She glances back at you, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint, and offers a playful wink that holds a world of secrets. Her lips curl into a teasing smirk before she speaks, her voice lilting with a flirtatious edge. “John seems really busy right now, so… Could we pretend it your while we have sex again?"

"Of course, honey, I'll do anything for you." Greg replies, his voice a mix of warmth and devotion. He glances at you, his eyes filled with a blend of relief and pride, before pulling her into a passionate kiss.

Greg's muscular arms encircle her delicate frame, his biceps tightening as he lifts her with an almost careless ease, until they are eye to eye. Their lips meet in a deep, passionate embrace, his mouth slanting over hers, and he feels her go limp with a soft moan. Her pink pencil sundress, delicate and wispy, begins to inch up her long, shapely legs as he presses her hips against his. The thin, flimsy fabric slides against her skin, revealing the smooth, supple flesh beneath. The dress creeps higher, finally bunching and gathering above her hips, and Greg can feel the heat and dampness of her radiating against his jeans. The rough denim of his pants rubs against her softness, and he lets out a low growl in his throat. He grins against her mouth, his voice a low, playful rumble. "Kiddo, no underwear?" he teases, his breath hot on her ear. "How very un-motherly of you."

Your wife lets out a giggle, the sound like a bubbling brook, light and effervescent. "It's not here yet," she says, her voice laced with affection and a hint of rebellion. "So I don't have to be motherly, especially when I'm with you." She leans back slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "With the man who helped make it."

His arms tighten around her waist, his hips straining against hers. He leans in closer, his voice a low growl in her ear. "Kiddo, you don't know how good it is to hear you say that." Your wife takes a quick glance back at the doorway, her eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. She knows you're standing there, watching, listening. She turns back to Greg, her voice calm and steady. "Then stop saying I'm just playing," she says, her tone laced with conviction. "Because right now, the baby inside me is yours."

Greg lowers his head toward your wife's most intimate place, his breath hot and heavy. But she swiftly pulls him back up, her eyes wild and hungry. "No, Daddy," she pants, "I'm already wet enough, and I can’t wait. I can’t wait; I need the cock of the man that made me pregnant inside me NOW!” Her words are a feverish tumble, her desire palpable.

Greg chuckles, a low, throaty sound. “As you wish honey,” he growls. He hastily drops his pants, his hard cock springing free, before lifting your wife off the ground with a fierce, primal strength. He impales her pregnant pussy on his hard cock, a brutal, possessive claim. You look on in horror, your mind screaming, ‘You sick, perverted asshole!’

You watch, transfixed in revulsion, as his naked, hairy ass clenches with each brutal thrust. Your wife screams in ecstasy, her orgasm tearing through her like a storm “OH FUCK DADDY! I HAVE NEVER CUM THIS FAST IN MY LIFE!” Her words are a carnal symphony, a testament to her desperation and pleasure.

Greg's deep voice echoes through the room, a triumphant roar. “Neither have I my dear!”

Your wife moans, her body shuddering with each wave of pleasure. "It's because the man that made me pregnant is fucking me!” Her words are a dagger to your heart, a cruel twist of the knife. Because while she might think she's pretending, Greg and you both know the truth—Greg was the one who actually got her pregnant. The reality is a bitter pill to swallow, a brutal, unforgiving truth that leaves you reeling. She continues to moan “Oh fuck daddy, I can’t take it anymore! it say. Fuck my hard!”

You couldn’t take it anymore and quickly turned away as she screamed “YES DADDY, fuck my pregnant pussy hard!”

A year and a half later Amy walks up to you and says

"Honey, I have another question for you, and it if you lie again, I will drop it. Is {name of her firstborn child} yours?"

You answer yes and she walks over to her dad and says "Hay daddy, John and I would like to have a second child. I was wondering if you would like to pretend to make it just like you did before?"