DOWN WILL CUM BABY, CRADLE AND ALL
When it’s bedtime, Daddy makes his daughter’s dreams cum true!

by Oediplex 8==3~
writing as TrojanSnake

{Please have a sense of humor and enjoy the concept, don’t you wish you had a cradle to fuck in?}

[Self-rocking is encouraged if you have no one to cuddle with.]

I own the first, I own the patent, and I owe it all to my Daddy. I don’t doubt you have heard of it, the Cradle Bed. “Sleep like a baby, in a Cradle Bed”, the slogan that is on TV, and in magazines everywhere. Not to mention “Winken, Bliken and Nod” sheets, blankets and pillows, including the Hushabye Brand, down comforters; filled with “Mother Goose” feathers. As well as of course the equally famous self-rocking Bougher’s Rockabye Tree Topnotch Hammocks, “Bougher gives you the break you need to come down from all your stress!”.

Yeah, I’m that Baby, and my father is inventor, founder and CEO of the storied BedTime Industries, Sanders Manfred (The Sandman) Bougher. Now that I’m twenty-one, I was made president of Sleepy-Time Mattress Sets. My brother, Hyram Bertram Nathaniel (Hy-Ber-Nate) Bougher, runs Sandman Medicine, the “all natural pills for Sweet Dreams”. While my mother is director of Lullabye Melodies, sound systems and mood music for sleep enhancement. My older sister designs the Lancelot Lamps (Knight-lights for boys) and Will-o-the-Wisp Fairy Glow Globes (for girls). My kid brother, has developed his own line of personal lubricants, Nocturnal Emulsions.

We have nothing to do with my uncle ‘Rip’ Bougher who sells luxury coffins, “Try one, they’re Heavenly! People do, they have one with a side cut-away in the showroom that folks get in! But my cousin, Rose does head our cosmetic line of Sleeping Beauty, overnight facial cream and mud-masques. “Go to bed looking like a nightmare, but wake to be the fairest of them all!” Dad says we Boughers don’t ‘own’ the night, we just sell it! It’s true of course, our family’s influence on the sleeping habits and comfort levels of modern society have dominated the market and customs for a generation.

If you live anywhere this side of the moon, and have any kind of media access at all, you have seen me. But not the adult me, the baby me was the one in that first black and white television commercial for the self-rocking canopy bed my father invented. (I’m still just as cute, but now sexy also!) The Cradle first became popular with movies stars, then every one of the rich and famous had to get one. Soon less expensive models were available for the middle-class. We still use the color photos of me as an infant, asleep on the big Cradle Bed. It works of course, or our family fortune would have never been made. Forget the vibrating beds, the water beds, the guaranteed springs or fancy foam mattresses, what comfort they offer is fine. But the natural rocking motion will always do the trick to get you to sleep.

It’s in our genes, and I don’t mean the Bougher’s family tree, I refer to the human genome. Our ancestors found their safety sleeping in trees for millions of years, before we climbed down to the savanna. So naturally, the swaying motion as we sleep, is a peaceful feeling, it helps us to rest and relax and feel secure. That’s why ancient mothers, and modern, rock their babies to sleep; in their arms, or way back when – in a crib that was swung from a tree limb, like the nursery rhyme. The rocking-cradle is an invention that goes back to prehistoric times. My father saw that the only reason that adults didn’t have cradles was that there was no one to rock them to sleep. Until he used an electric motor and some simple engineering.

Unlike that girl with the fold-out couch, I stayed out of the limelight while I grew up. I still think we missed the boat on not copyrighting the name DreamWorks for one of our many companies. But we have the night-time market covered, our spreadsheets are very in the black. They have been since white and bright for bed-linens was in. (Grandfather was in the bleach business, ironically named SunShine Lighteners.) Anyway, you are not here to hear about our mattress business, but what business of ours happened on my mattress. Namely how the Sandman rocked Baby. Daddy always called me Baby, like with Jeniffer Grey in ‘Dirty Dancing’. But when he showed me how I was conceived on the prototype, the same one I own, how he got his rocks off with mom; then he rocked my world and left me dazed one night!

So here goes.

Having just turned twenty-one and been made president of Sleepy-Time Mattress Sets, I decided it was time to move out of the family mansion and get a place of my own. I bought all the furniture and decorated the home myself. Of course the Master, no make that Mistress bedroom, featured as its central item the prototype, the first Cradle Bed. The same one used in the original commercial. The patent was my eighteenth birthday gift, the royalties were my trust fund. The promotion to head of the mattress company was for my majority birthday just past. I suppose I shall be stuck with being “Mistress of Mattresses”, but the moniker will be secretly ironic as well, as I became my father’s paramour on the famous bed.

I had invited my parents over for dinner and to see what I had done with the property. I was quite proud of the tasteful settings I had wrought in the ten room cottage. It was just me living there, no boyfriend currently, and no husband material was anywhere on the horizon. Mom couldn’t make it back from LA, there was a concert of some fella she was eager to sign for her company, which she needed to attend. Dad came alone and no siblings were invited that evening. So it was just Sandy, and Baby, alone together with great food and too much chilled wine. (Catered, I’m not super woman in the kitchen.) After dinner, I provided the dollar tour to dad. The piece de resistance, was my boudoir.

Dad knew the Cradle was there, as I had slept in it since I was six. But he started to chuckle when he saw it and I asked him why?

“Because Baby, you have it in the same position, dead center on the back wall, as your mother and I did when I first made the monster. That beast took up our whole little bedroom almost, our place was so small at the time. But I bet you don’t have any idea what made the thing sell in the first place, do you?”

“Not its tranquil properties?”

“Well, those too, but there is more to the story. No, I had a few exclusive clients that I had to explain the other benefits to, privately. And some I even showed home movies to, to make the first few sales to them.”

“Of me sleeping on the bed? Is that where you got the idea for the commercial?”

“No, . . Mmm . . I guess you’re old enough to know.”

“Can I see the film clips?”

“Your mother made me destroy the copies after the business took off.”

“Then tell me about what was on them!” I said a little frustrated and showing my pique.”

“Sex.”

“You and mom?”

“Well we were both very attractive in those days, and awfully in need of cash flow.”

“Couldn’t grandpa help?”

“His business was starting to suffer from the new competition’s advertising on TV, so he was in a tough situation also, at the time.”

“Uncle Rip says I look a lot like mom did back in those days. Could you show me, what was so hot about sex on the bed? I have had romps on it sometimes, with my boyfriends; but we tended to roll off, when it rocked.”

“You need to turn ninety degrees, and he should have his feet on the floor.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t imagine that you’ve ever read the ‘Perfumed Garden’?”

“The book next to the fancy copy of the Karma Sutra in your private clandestine library in your den, Daddy?”

“Are there no secrets in this family?”

“Sure, the one you are about to show me.”

“Just tell you about. Did you have too much wine tonight?”

“No, shall I get some more?”

“Not now. In that naughty book there were a number of devices to help a man pleasure his woman without getting tucked out fucking. One was the ‘suspended swinging bed’, a simple concept, but adaptable in principle with the Cradle, when I thought about it.”

“But the Cradle rocks, it doesn’t swing.”

“Trust me Baby, it is great for swingers who know how.”

“Show me Sandy, give Baby a live demonstration.”

“My dear daughter, are you trying to seduce your old father?”

“I was hoping that you might seduce me. After all, it’s not like you and mom have been perfectly faithful over the years.”

“But you’re family!”

“Who do you think helped little brother develop his Nocturnal Emulsions?”

“You don’t mean . . .?”

“Not sis, she glows in a different direction than from ‘loving lancers in chain-male’, feminine fairies are her wayward wisps, if you will. I mean, mom! Incest is not unknown in our family, pop. Rose told me that she and Hy did it in that damn open coffin late one evening . He was res-erected that night, twice!”

“I knew about that, but not about your mother and brother. Your older distaff sibling has been basically out of the closet for sometime. Fortunately we live in a more tolerant era.”

“There are still enough taboos around to make sin interesting. Come on, please daddy, show Baby how you and momma made me on the Cradle?”

“I shouldn’t, we were naked . .”

“Good let’s start with that!” I proceeded to unbutton my blouse and unzip my skirt. In no time I was in only my brasserie and panties. Mind you, I hadn’t planned my daddy’s seduction for that evening. I thought I would have to wait until some other chance. But when opportunity knocks a pregnant moment up, don’t pause in bedding your paw’s prick! Let’s just say it was my dream cum true.

“Christ this is like some cheap porno movie plot!”

“They always get right to the action. More undressing Sandy and less dialog, please!” I directed, as I shed my demi-bra.

“I don’t need to get undress. You just lie like this.” He put me so my legs hung over the side of the mattress toward him. “Comfortable?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Well – now remember this is just a demonstration, not the real thing – Okay, first the man gets on his knees.” He knelt on the plush carpet with the extra thick padding underneath. (Guaranteed against rug-burns.) “Then I flip the switch for the rocking.” I felt the bed sway beneath me. “To begin with, the male leans into the female, hands on each side like so.” Suddenly I discovered my father’s nose was plowing along the groove of my panty covered pussy!

“Ooh! I get it. Let’s try it for real!” I squealed as I shucked my last article of clothing. Tossing them over my head to the other side of the room I resumed the former pose. I grabbed the back of my daddy’s neck and bent his head down to my furry triangle. He put out his hands to keep from mashing his face right into my mons. Thus we wound up in the same configuration as a moment ago, sans scanties. Now the mouth was met by pink gash, pheromones wafting in his nostrils and hormones flowing through our veins. Naturally, his tongue just had to taste the dewy delicacy offered by his dainty daughter, what man could refuse that dish? He began to eat.

“Yess! Daddy, like that! I see now what you mean!” For indeed, the rocking gave a rhythm to his cunnilingus, the motion was there and all he had to do was stick out his oral digit and I got licked. What fun. But I wanted more. So after a little frisson of a climax, more of a thrill from whom was doing as what was doing, I slid down and began to strip my father’s clothes off. The appetizer of my cunny whet his masculine hunger for more meaty fare, and now I had a willing male to help satisfy my craving for the muscle of his manhood. We got him naked in record time.

Sandy, patriarch of our sinful family, his phallic member rampant, put his hands under my arms and deposited me back on the mattress, like he had lifted a life-size doll and tossed her on the bed. Poppa was soo strong! Then he grasped the edge of the pad with me in the middle, planted his feet in the plush, and let the Cradle’s rocking push his hips into my pelvis. The Cradle rocked, and we rolled and the penis prodded the crack between my legs. The movement made dad’s cock saw the crevice, seeking the cavity of my vagina. The head of his dick nudged my sensitive button and sent waves of lust for his hard-on shooting through my tummy.

Then it centerer and plunged up my cunt to seat the meat deep in my womanhood. Once several strokes established the path was lubricated and open for his assault, he maneuvered so that my legs were lifted high, they were held in his arms and my butt thumped against his loins as the Cradle rocked. Then he put my limbs around his hips and stood holding on the the sturdy crossbar of the canopy overhead. The bed did all the work as we fucked. It was easy, it was fun, it was a stroke of genius – well, stroke after stroke of genuine fun, fucking. And MY daddy had invented it!!

And MY daddy and I were doing it!!

When you don’t need your energy to counteract gravity, then it can be used for endurance. I mean, we weren’t weightless, but the work was taken out of the equation, and just the enjoyment left. No labor – unless you got the gal pregnant. Who would have guessed? I understood why my folks had made the porno demo film. I wondered if either of them gave private personal demonstrations like daddy was giving me now? I figured maybe, since there were movies stars involved, and my parents were not at all prudes. Perhaps, the family dirty laundry needed some SunShine Lightener to cover up what went on in the sheets at night, in those early days. Nowadays, we could use the blanket of our wealth to hide our peccadillos, but at the moment nobody knew anything about the incest indiscretions my father and I were indulging in, as his pecker brought me to climax again and again.

Say what you will about the stamina of youth, the staying power of the mature gent is not to be overlooked! We switched, and now I was the one going down on the rising tower of my pater’s peter. Then I was manipulated to be seated on that saddle horn, so that I could discovered my own special rocking horsey ride! We bucked as we fucked! I have done it in our hammocks and that was interesting, but a rather gymnastic endeavor. This had the sway but without the swoop, so that your balance was tetter-tottered but not made to swing in an arch. You really have to try it to see what I mean, it was fabulous! Pop’s a proficient teacher, he gave me some pointers, or one big one, if you know what I mean!

I felt that paternal prick begin to drive urgently into my wanton weeping hole, and I slammed my buns down on his thighs to drive him far into my middle. Then the miracle of orgasm swept over us both as he gushed his semen in his Baby. That’s how I was made. Made as a fertilized egg in my mother’s womb, and made by my father’s sperm shooting into my own cervix. My father’s cum became me, and my cumming became my dad’s passion. After that night, we became lovers, coming together to frolic in the Cradle of Love often. I wonder if mom still makes it with the ‘Prince of Love-Lotion Potions’ as my kid brother likes to term himself? Well, if she does, then more power to her, she’ll be singing her siren’s lullabye to him when she hits her peak, I suppose.

You know, I wonder about my uncle Rip and niece Rose too, father and daughter; if he ever wrested in her piece?!

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