Valentine's, The Day My "daughter" And I Conceived

She had turned 18 a few weeks prior. I was balls deep inside her. Her mom was at work.

Almost every fiber of my body was telling me to ejaculate inside her. A feeble warning in my head said not to, because it would be insest and raising a special-needs baby might strain our relationship.

As another dangerous dribble of precum coated the outside of her cervix, a different voice in my head chimed in, recalling a long-ago argument with my now ex-wife, whom I'd suspected of cheating. Nothing was ever resolved, but we had to put our differences aside because we had a baby on the way. Ten years later, we grew apart and divorced.

One month after my forbidden encounter with my beloved "daughter", her pregnancy test came back positive. She was going to have my baby!

The next month, our DNA tests came back. I was not her father! My "daughter" and I fucked like rabbits and had four more kids together.

She is now my wife. Every Valentine's Day, we remember the pleasure, the fear, the anticipation of our first coupling.