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Good

By: WFEATHER



When His e-mail arrived just before lunchtime, she silently rejoiced as she read it: When you get home from work, put on your collar, go directly to the bedroom, strip off everything but the collar, and put on the clothes I have set out for you.

Arriving home, she followed the instructions immediately, although she was quite bewildered about the clothing on the bed: her favorite winter boots, thick wool socks, the heavy-denim jeans, wide stylish belt, bra, nice ribbed undershirt, sweater, and winter coat. The only item which really made "sense" was the rubber panty with the built-in vaginal and anal dildos, and putting that on required several minutes due to the need to add lube and then slowly press the anal dildo into her tightest orifice. 

Kneeling on the floor, she began to feel quite warm despite the air conditioning which cooled the house during the summer months. she kept wondering why her Master would make her wear winter clothing during the summer. 

The air conditioning shut off, as it occasionally did. Within a minute, she was feeling warmer, but she knew the temperature would cool again when the A/C unit reactivated itself. 

she kept watching the clock. Ten minutes, then fifteen minutes passed, and the air kept getting warmer. her knees ached, her stomach growled, her skin was sweaty, and the dildos teased her mercilessly. She unbuttoned the winter coat - she was still wearing it, which was what she was expected to do, and opening the coat did allow a little relief, but not too much. 

Still, she roasted. Still, she ached. Still, she suffered. Still, she endured. 

When He suddenly appeared in the bedroom doorway, completely naked and sipping from a glass of ice water, jealousy arose within her but was quickly squelched by her obedient, submissive nature. He wanted her to suffer the heat, and that was her duty. 

He stood there, leaning against the open door, slowly sipping the ice water, His eyes piercing her soul and further heating her, making her all the more aware of the dildos filling her. 

"Crawl to Me and suck Me," her Master ordered. "Only when you finally swallow My cum will I permit you to undress." 

she obeyed, her knees protesting as she slowly moved across the carpet, the dildos shifting within her and causing soft obscene sounds to escape her throat. Gladly, she set to her task, enjoy the feel of His thickness in her mouth, enjoying having something other than the aching and the heat on which to focus her attention. 

The heat threatened to overwhelm her. Quickly, she worked on Him, bobbing her head, fondling her Master's testicles, repeatedly swirling her pointed tongue around His pulsing length. Closing her eyes allowed her to better taste the sweetness of His love and revel in the musk of His lust, but it also made her more aware of the heat trapped within her clothes and the violation of the triple penetration. 

"Stop." 

Sadly, she released the phallus from her small mouth, looking up at Him just as a blast of ice water splashed her face. Instinctively, she cried out softly, shrinking back, cringing, the unexpected blast of cold at great odds with the heat which otherwise consumed her. 

"Continue," He commanded her. "you have five minutes to make Me cum, and you'd better swallow it all." 

she heard the unspoken threat loud and clear: Make Me cum or else you'll be sleeping naked on the floor of the garage tonight. she cringed inside, remembering the great discomfort and the even greater shame she had felt when she had merited such a punishment weeks earlier. 

Dutifully, she set herself to her inspired task, but was interrupted every few seconds by more ice water being poured directly in her face, the cold/hot contrast not quite as shocking but still able to disrupt her work and distract her for just a moment. The heat still threatened to overwhelm her, and she had to truly concentrate as much as possible, a concentration aided by the darkness of her lowered eyelids. 

After several years serving her Master, her ears recognized when He was close to feeding her His seed. she sucked harder and stroked his hearty manhood faster and bobbed her head with increasing speed. she tried her best to ignore her aching knees and the increasing heat and the unbearable sweat and the penetrating dildos. Even more than usual, His pleasure was her solitary concern. 

...and His pleasure had never tasted so good. 

After taking a moment to recover from the climax, her Master helped her to stand. Quickly, He undressed her, leaving the collar and the panty and dildos in place. The remaining ice water was given to her to drink as He slowly led her to the bathroom, where a pitcher of ice water and a bathtub half-full of cool water awaited her.

Good.



On the Thursday Melody Parker had her pussy waxed. She had meant just to get her legs done and her bikini area defined better but Maria, who was doing her waxing, had disco songs playing loudly and she had pulled her dress off then tugged her thong to the side to show how much better bare skin looked and Melody had to agree it did look miles better. So, after a second glass of wine she lay back and endured the pain. 

It was worth it and it would be back to normal before Friday evening when Bad Boys Week –end was going to start. Well that was what Maria had promised but as she hobbled out to her car Melody had her doubts about that. She drove gingerly back to the flat she shared with Bronwyn hoping she wouldn't get told off by her.

As it happened Bronwyn, who insisted on a close examination of the suspect area, applauded her decision to have the Brazilian and as a mark of her support spread a fresh layer of lotion over it. They weren't, as far as Melody had been aware, lesbians living together but as she lay, not wearing a stitch, stretched out with her heels on the ottoman and legs 'comfortably' apart she had an idea that she might need to re- think that assumption.

Not that she wanted any ideas of playing for the home team to raise its moderating new age head. Bad Boys Week-End was for hard bodied non PC, or new age, considerate, 'was it good for you too' real men to fuck you stupid. There were going to be a lot of guys there her parents would not have welcomed into their house. Fair enough she thought as Bronwyn used a wet hand towel to wipe her groin clean of the white ointment coating it instead with coconut oil which made it much more appealing in the series of high definition close up snaps she took quite shamelessly while an invisible force prevented Melody from clamping her legs together or even from organizing something to cover her womanly area.

A minute later Bronwyn had downloaded the lot on the Bad Boys site to join three or four thousand lurid photos from frustrated women all over the country plus a few who were coming from overseas. Melody was rather proud of them and glad now Bron had talked her out of covering her tits. The line of sight from feet up made them look jutty rather than saggy- which they were a bit. A ring or two would have looked good in her nipples as would one in her pussy but that was out of the question now. 

 Nerida, forty two, and a pillar of society had had hers waxed as well a few days before. She sympathized with this desperate slut who had got her 'friend' to put the photos up rather than posting selfies. Her waxing had been agony but all the same it was a wake up call as her mother had told her after hers had been done the last week end.

"If a mere waxing can stop you in your tracks what will a paddling followed by a gang bang in your ass hole do?'

Nerida had gone all wistful on that once her mother had gone- the way she had examined Nerida's freshly waxed womanly area had had her unnerved. Surely it wasn't normal for a mother to look at her daughter's body like that and there had been absolutely no need for her to offer to strip off so Nerida could check her body out against her mom's. What possible reason could she have for wanting to do that? So she couldn't understand why Elspeth had got so tart with her when she has asked her not too.

In any event she had enough on her plate with the kids and Simon asking questions. Was she looking more attractive? It was a mantra really; of course she was: her legs looked sensational now and those yoga sessions combined with her vegetarian diet had her looking younger, lean and athletic. Her problem was: doing it on her own.

She looked again at this last, no second to last now, lot of pictures and studied the woman's face. There was one clear one that hadn't been shot over Pussy Alley and Nerida looked at it closely. There was something about her Nerida liked. She made a mental note to seek her out at the orientation meeting Friday morning.

 The woman in the photos wasn't getting the restful, revitalizing sleep she had wanted. Bron, she rather liked being called Bron Melody had found, had insisted on coming in with a selection of ice packs and placing them on the 'area in question' in order to provide relief from the pain. That wouldn't have been too bad if it hadn't been for her insistence she stay on sentry duty to make sure they were where they could do the most good.

Then she had asked if Bron liked being close to her pussy and Bron has scoffed.

"I hardly think so," she had retorted.

There had been one of those awful silences then she continued in a hurt voice to say she was just trying to look out for her and "if that was a crime well excuse me" and Melody felt dreadful. Then she had to plead with Bron to keep doing what she was doing but then Bron had added what she called 'small area massage' to her self imposed list of duties.

Melody gave up. It was quite nice ,now she thought about it and she didn't need to get so up tight about every little thing. And so, later than she wanted, she did manage to go to sleep. 

In the morning Bron lay across her pelvis dead to the world; for some reason her right hand was up under her nightie and she had a very pleased look on her face. More importantly Melody's pussy felt wonderful; it wasn't sore and it looked amazing. After all those goings on of the previous night she felt sexy and horny again. 

She went and had a shower then just dried off and padded into her kitchen to make her breakfast. It was just a bowl of porridge with various nuts and dried fruit but it was quick to make and she loved it. 

'Wish me luck," she called to Bron from the doorway as she was ready to leave.

"What? Oh shit did I fall asleep?"

"Yes you did. You must have done a great job last night Bron, thanks babe."

"Hey, no worries, you know. Sorry if I sounded a bit intense..."

"No problem. It's great to have someone who cares so much."

"Well I do."

"As a friend?"

"Of course as a friend; hey are you winding me up?"

"Just a bit. You sure you don't want to come?"

"No I'll be here when you stagger home,' she said the words casually but her expression belied her voice. 

"OK , bye, I'll see you Sunday I guess."

And she was gone. Bron could be fun when she felt like some girly time but she had wanted to stay focused for the week end. It wasn't as if she would normally go for these sorts of primitive men so she had been wondering if it was really her until she had attended an "I was there" meeting to hear veterans of the last few Bad Boys Weekends and she actually came with her jeans on and no touching.

That had been it and the last three months she had been getting ready not, as you might expect, by going on the block or providing relief for recently released sex offenders but by doing her yoga and calisthenics so she stayed lean and flexible. The lady at the meeting had stressed flexibility and acceptance. She had practiced the first and hoped she would nail the second.

The hall was a few miles out of town and the cars were parked on the side of the road from a quarter of a mile out. She made a quick decision and parked behind the last in the queue. In her walking shoes with the heels and her slinky little outfit along with the essentials a girl had to have in a little carry bag she strode confidently, praying no one she knew would drive past, towards her destination.

The front of the hall was done in an old Master of Falconhurst style, big pillars, white wall boards and a set of steps across the full width of the building. The whole front was beautifully lit with men and women in uniform waiting to meet the ladies attending. It was deserted. Down the back end of the hall in gloomy light and accessed by walking across the soggy grass lawn that was now a quagmire was a single door that lead into a dark cold basement.

That was where they all headed because none of them wanted anyone to see them coming to a place like this. Melody's shoes were muddy which she hadn't expected and which ruined her hopes of being immaculate. She had to take them off at the doorway. It wasn't anything to make a fuss over, she told herself, but she felt undermined- just a bit.

Once the place was so packed you couldn't move the lights came on and everyone gasped then sighed. Melody recognized at least half a dozen women there and obviously they recognized her. Then everyone was saying hello to everyone else. A woman who told Melody her name was Nerida introduced herself and appeared to want to swap anecdotes about Brazilian waxes. Melody was about to brush her off to keep the focus for the coming event when this Nerida told her it was her first time, she had been getting by on her nerves up till then but now she was terrified. Oh and that she had picked her because she though they would have some sort of connect and she had thought going through the pain of a Brazilian might be it.

She was right and she was wrong. She was right about the Connect but wrong about what it was; in the dark when she was alone with her thoughts Melody had admitted to herself that she was terrified of tonight.. It was a unity in terror and Melody embraced this kindred spirit. So they hugged and Melody let Nerida grope her bottom and when Nerida stopped because Melody wasn't responding she insisted she really was enjoying it and really wanted her to keep doing it.

Suddenly from through the walls the heard the sound of half a dozen Harley Davidson Fat boys being revved and the women screamed. Hard bodied bikers in leather pants were in the next room- they had to be. There was a surge for the door and when the more timid Nerida and Melody got through they saw them: six Harleys on a stage with one hard bodied biker astride each one.

"Just getting you in the MOOD, ladies," the one who insisted his name was Satan told them a little more theatrically than Melody was comfortable with but she put that to one side clapping and squealing with the best of them while aware of the furtive looks Nerida was giving her and wondering if Nerida might have been more interested in her than these six sexy bikers.

"If you would just head over to the registration tables and sign in? Any new comers, welcome, Megan over here will guide you through registration."

It was about as exciting as enrolling for Line Dancing Melody thought only with that there was a really good chance you might enjoy yourself .She was getting into what her mother used to call 'one of Melody's bolshie moods.'

Kindred spirit Nerida was there too- like her shadow.

They signed in under their names for the week end. She was Saucy Girl and Nerida was Erotic Princess. Both laughed scornfully at their own names and wished out loud that they had thought of the other's themselves. Then it was over to the side to get changed into their costumes and try to get near a mirror for a second or two.

Melody emerged from the huddle in very short chain link dress which stopped two inches above her legs. After much agonizing she had decided to start as she went on and so had dispensed with underwear. Her freshly waxed pussy (she wanted to be wanton enough to call it her cunt but that was too extreme for her with her up bringing and so she had settled for pussy) was on show and a group formed round her. They all wore 'something' down there which made Melody feel very uncomfortable.

It was an ongoing issue for Melody, her body, as it is for pretty much any girl ever born. Melody was an early shooter. Over one Christmas holiday break she went from one of the girls to a head taller which of course meant she dwarfed the boys too. She stopped as five foot six and a quarter if she stood up nice and straight with her shoulders back but she developed special height reduction techniques to sneak under the dreaded five foot five mark. 

Now with the cluster of slightly more decently clad women than herself the old terrors came storming back. 

"My fucking God look at you," the lady in charge of the Gourmet Foods section in her local Supermarket gasped admiringly.

Melody glowed: Nerida nodded approvingly.

"I wish I had the balls to go bare like that. "

The shoulders relaxed.

"Well I guess it is a bit naughty, isn't it?"

"No, no, not at all," she paused and cleared her throat," I don't suppose seeing as how it looks well you know, so nice I might?"

She was saved by the organizers from the Stalags coming over to round everyone up and so they all had to saunter through into the hall. This was where the action would take place all though it might be a while before there were many of the hot guys who were definitely going to be there no mistake about that. 

Most of the woman had taken a leaf from her book and were now sans panties. They all mingled, got drinks and tried to wonder what He would be like. All of them seemed to subscribe to the Marian Keyes, hot bodied hairy male God type with the hot simmering eyes combined with the ability to bring her to the limit then push her over.

It would be nice, Melody thought as she peeked out the curtains at the seemingly endless row of nicely cared for Girls' cars, if there were more than six hot men coming. Nerida dragged her back to the group trying to make it plain to them all that she and Melody really were an item. She would rest her arm over Melody's shoulders while standing beside her as if they were joined at the hip. then nod at her during conversations as if they were in simpatico sharing a memory. 

Time passed. To be precise it inched past. At five they had the sumptuous supper 'more than enough for everyone' and polished it off before all of them were aware it was out. By six those who had gone too hard during the "if you like Pena Coladas and getting caught in the rain" session lay on the floor with no idea how they were ever going to get up. Melody and a small group were still dancing by now though they were into the slow sexy stuff but as they all wanted to dance with Melody they had released Nerida's vice like grip on her however it was plain they weren't just 'filling in time till the main event."

Then it happened; the men arrived. There were twenty and if they were hard bodied, Melody thought in yet another of her 'bolshie moods' then Tom Cruise was a six footer. The music started, the lights came on and the original six started their routines. It was a fucking Girls Night Strip Show. The thing was that no one complained. None of them really and truly actually wanted to be fucked stupid. Oh sure they wanted to dream about it and talk about it but there was too much control in their lives to want to step outside their nice insulated comfort zones so they were happy acting now like depraved sluts and yahooing the girls who did get a fuck.

Both Melody and Nerida did and Melody thought her one was really good- although the condom he had on it took the edge off a bit. Nerida maybe put too much effort into her fuck unnerving her guy in the process but all in all they agreed, sharing heroine status in their group, it had been a really good night. 

It was actually half past nine on the first night and Melody couldn't wait to get home. After she and a whole lot of others left by the front door in their street clothes refusing pass out stamps the organizers did try darkness but no one left was all that interested and some of the guys had a gig to get to by ten thirty that paid better than this so it wound down to a little fuck session with half a dozen women getting what the other hundred and something had been promised but didn't really want.

Melody said good bye to Nerida at her car. There was someone else she told her nodding ruefully then adding that Nerida was someone she would never, could never, forget. A passionate tongues and all kiss, a not too hard punch on the arm and she was in her car. Nerida watched her until the little car was out of sight. She just felt hollow.

Melody cruised home with the radio off alone with her thoughts. Bron would be in bed or watching TV curled up on the sofa. Here it was, barely late on the first night and she was going home already. Well it just wasn't her- she knew that now- and she couldn't wait to get home and make herself a late supper. 

Really though she wanted to be with Bronnie and she hoped her friend whom she had treated horribly now she thought about it still wanted to know her. She wouldn't blame her if she didn't she thought nervously. 

As it happened the red head from their group stopped to talk with Nerida whom she fancied something rotten. She told her how hot she was and asked where she learned all her moves. The long and the short of it was that Nerida followed her home. Neither have left their families but they have an understanding. It's flexible and undemanding; it works for them both although sometimes Nerida's mind goes to that Melody she met at that crazy weekend ("we just went wild" she says as if she wasn't immensely proud of her 'once in a life time' experience) and she wonders 'what if.'

Bronnie was waiting in the doorway and Melody had a mad image for a second of how she would have looked if she had waited till Saturday. 

She had made a real effort with a new pale pink robe, her make up would have looked great if it wasn't for the streaks and a few strands had worked free from her chignon. And she was hugging herself.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

And then Melody was hugging her and the strong, assertive, guiding, Bronnie shook with the force of her sobs. It was what she wanted, Melody realized, bearing her lover up on her chest and letting her cry.

They went inside a little later on.

"What's this? " Melody asked softly.

"I just hoped you might get home a bit early, that's all," was all Bronnie could mumble- well a girl has her pride.

She had put a red and white check table cloth out with Chianti bottles as candle stick holders. The candles had burned pretty low and the lasagna she had made because Melody had told her once that she loved Italian was just a bit dry.

They ate together.

"I hated tonight," Bronnie told her plate.

Melody nodded; she hadn't really enjoyed it. No, truth, she had hated it and all the time wished she had been back here with Bronnie.

"Meet anyone?"

"No one I think I'll keep in touch with."

"Good."



Good Advice



"Welcome, Miss Harter. Have a seat."

Still unsure of why I was here, I made my way across the room and sat down on the plush tan sofa that is the trademark of a psychiatrist's office. It wasn't the first time I had entered my parents' counselor's room, but I was surprised when he asked to see me and my parents separately. Surprised since I wasn't the patient.

Unfortunately, though, Mom was.

She had undergone a huge metamorphosis in the last few months, ever since her bookstore had been held up. No longer was she a mom who fussed over her little girl and husband - now she hardly seemed to care about us. It wasn't deliberate, that was certain, for there were instances when the old Mom came out. It was just as if her head had been messed up, as if her priorities had suddenly ceased to exist. The worst part of it had been that she didn't know it.

For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Dr.Malwinch seemed to be studying me, and for a second, I wondered whether I was the one a block short. Then he smiled, genuinely, softly. His eyes twinkled from behind the glasses as he poured a glass of water and slid it towards me. Still, neither of us spoke.

"Thanks, but I am not thirsty," I said, attempting to break the ice.

"Oh," he replied with a casual wave of his hand, "It's not just for thirst - perhaps, when I am done with my diagnosis, you may want to throw it at me head. Whatever - just as long as you express your feelings."

"You keep the suspense up, Doc, and I won't wait till your report to dunk you," I grinned back at him. 

He smiled back. "Fair enough."

Slowly, the smile faded; a grim and sober face replaced the chubby smile I had been greeted with. "Your fears, unfortunately, were correct," he began, and my heart sank. Although Dad and I had suspected it, it was still as devastating to have it confirmed. I lowered my eyelids so that he wouldn't see that my eyes were filling up.

"However," he added hastily, "It's not serious. It's curable, really, but the medicine might be a little bit unorthodox... I'll just save that for later. Firstly, though, I think you should know the problem your mother has."

I nodded my head silently, reaching into my handbag for the hanky before thinking better of it. Doc Mal waited until I had raised my eyes to his before continuing.

"You are aware of schizophrenia, I suppose?"

"Isn't it the disease where people feel paranoid or something?"

"Yes, although I wouldn't exactly go so far as to call it a disease. A disease is something physical, viral, bacterial, etc - oh dear, I fear I digress. Your general perception is correct though - paranoia.

"Now, while schizophrenia is getting increasingly 'popular' these days, there is a left side to it. R-She-Z, I call it. Reverse schizophrenia. It's extremely rare, and is often confused with depression. It's not serious, and the few cases that I've seen or read about have all been cured."

That raised my hopes a little bit.

"Your Mom has R-She-Z. I haven't gone beyond the first layer of counseling, but this I can tell you - her problem is not insecurity, but a lack thereof. Nothing seems to threaten her, and that, perhaps, is the main reason her dependence on you has decreased. A mother's motif is to feel wanted by her children, by her husband, and that's what makes her feel secure. 

"That's why the incidence of depression among women in the higher age-groups is moon-high - once the kids gain a little independence, the mother is a little less needed. Not less loved, mind you, but expression of it is as important as the love itself.

"Your mother seems to have lost that need. Apparently, she's dissociated herself from being wanted... she is too sure of her place in the family now to feel wanted. There is nothing to threaten her life, her living.

"And that brings me to my question, Kelly. How much do you want to get your mother back? To what lengths are you willing to go to?"

"Whatever it takes."

He paused for effect. "To the extent of posing a threat?"

"I don't understand."

"What I mean is, can you be bold enough to threaten your Mom's position in your family? Her position as the dominant female, as the strong voice. And most importantly, as ... your father's wife?"

It took me all of ten seconds to gather the full import of his words. To say that the last question shook me up would be an understatement - I felt numb below my neck. And yet, there was the start of a strange stirring somewhere in my body. It wasn't too much. Not yet, anyway.

"What the hell do you mean?" My voice rose.

"Exactly what I mean. Would you be willing to go so far as to have an affair with your own father to have your mother back? Is she worth it?" Then his voice softened. "Just think about it..."

I sat there dumbly, trying to find out an alternative. Perhaps, if I hadn't been so unnerved, I might have come up with one - but as it was, the only thing that was echoing inside my head was the proposed affair with my Dad. Before I knew it, I was seriously considering the notion.

Not that Dad was not good-looking or anything - as far as I was concerned, he could beat most of the jocks who had been trying to get me. And somehow, I just knew he would be a wonderful and considerate lover; he was, and always had been, a loving and considerate man, never one to lose his anger. 

I made a mental checklist. 

Loving? Yes.

Tender? Yes.

Handsome? Very.

Virile? I shocked myself the way I was evaluating him. 

Yes.

Desirable? Yes!

Dammit! Couldn't I come up with a single No? 

Possible? No... aha... maybe...

I shook my head in failure. He was my father, true, and I realized at that moment that this relationship was the only thing that must have held me back from desiring him. Now, even the taboo was too thin. If Dad had been in front of me, and had proposed, I knew I couldn't - and wouldn't - say no. Incest was dirty no longer.

The Doc caught my nod with a sigh of satisfaction. "Ah! Few women, I am told, can resist such an opportunity."

"But will it work?" I ventured. For the sin I was about to commit, nothing short of Mom's recovery would suffice. 

"Honey, in the one case where I suggested such a remedy, it worked. Don't get your hopes up, though - she will need your help as much as she needs mine. Do you want me to talk to your father about this, or should I?"

"I will - no, maybe... I think you should do it, Doc. Dad would kill me..."

"I doubt that," the psychiatrist returned casually, "I doubt any man could turn you down."

I smiled weakly at him. "What do I do?"

"Why don't you talk to my daughter?" he asked. "She's rather qualified in these matters, I must say, and it would be easier to talk to a person closer in age. Let me just page her."

Before I could ask him how his daughter was 'qualified in these matters,' Doc Malwinch had buzzed her on the intercom. From the previous visits, I knew that her office was right beside his, and it was just a matter of seconds before a beautiful woman, blonde, smiling and dressed in a business suit, walked through a door at the back of his office.

"Hello Dad!" she chirped brightly and walked over to him. The two embraced, then, much to my surprise, kissed each other on the lips like lovers. I could see the girl's eyes get wide when she spotted me, but her hands could do nothing but flail at the back of his head as their lips continued to stick. 

When they pulled apart, finally, the girl nudged her father in the ribs and pointed to me, as if chiding him for being so indiscrete. Malwinch just shrugged his shoulders, then, slipping his arm around her waist rather intimately, escorted her to my side.


"I don't suppose you have met," the Doc began. "Megan, this is Kelly Harter. Kelly, my daughter and right hand, Megan."

I guess the shock was as evident on my face as the sheepishness on hers. She shook my hand warmly, then, following her father, sat on the edge of his chair. The Doc, it seemed as by habit, placed his arm around her waist, the palm resting in front of her crotch, before his daughter wisely shuffled so that the air of sexuality between them was not so obvious.

"What's the matter, Dad? If Kelly doesn't mind me asking."

I have to give the doctor credit - whatever the intimacy of his blood, he waited for the peremptory nod from me before telling his daughter about my mother. When he mentioned the possible course of action, her eyes seemed to light up. She looked at me, as if studying me in the same manner her father had when I had entered the room, and she seemed to like what she saw.

Then she turned to her father. "Why don't Kelly and I go into my room, Papa? You can go back to the rest of your patients, and I will fill you in later."

"That's a good idea, sweetie. In fact, why don't I fill you up while you fill me in?"

I swear the girl turned a positively dark shade of red at his flirtatious suggestion, and she cast an amused glance in my direction before kissing her father, this time only lightly, on his lips. "You dirty old goat," she giggled, "You are going to get us into trouble."

Still smiling, she gestured for me to follow her. We crossed the room, and she locked the door after I had entered a room similar to the one I had just exited. This one was more pleasantly decorated, more feminine, but it was obvious that the differences were purely cosmetic. 

"Coffee?"

"Thanks," I accepted. Megan poured two cups from a percolator placed behind her seat, then joined me at the bucket-sofa. Neither of us spoke until we had finished more than half of the coffee, me not knowing what to say, she perhaps waiting for me to break the silence. "Nice coffee," I complimented her, curious as to her role in this whole essay.

"Thanks," Megan smiled - it seemed to come as naturally to her as batting an eyelid - "It's a wonderful drink for doctors, you know. Gets the tongue loose. For the patients, that is. It's an ordeal to deal with a patient who won't reveal anything on his own. You have to cross-examine it out of them."

After a brief pause, she continued. "So, what my father said... is it true, or are you just too confused to say no right now?"

"I guess it is the latter," I admitted. "I want my Mom back, and I suppose I don't care if I have to rot in hell for that."

"Oh, bosh!" Megan cut in. She placed her cup on the tea-table, then caught my eyes and fixed them with a level gaze. "That's an old wives' tale. Nobody goes to hell for making love, nowadays, it would fill the place up with all sorts of people."

"Yeah, but incest..."

"Pertains to the act of sex between close relations. That's all. It's just a word. The same as marriage and divorce, life and death. Some people want it, others don't. Only the choice differs."

"But... I mean, the Bible..."

"Where Lot's daughters seduced him into making them pregnant so that the world could once again be peopled? It's a book, after all, just the same as the Koran or the Gita. Theirs is an ideal life, one where there is a God at every corner of your life. Today's world is far more complicated, sister, and you cannot say where one wrong ends and the other begins."

"True," I conceded, "But does that make it less wrong?"

"Who decides what's right or wrong?" she countered. "The President? His wife? A priest? No, it's you. It's me. The people who live with their decisions. A few years ago, homosexuals were condemned - now they have the right to marry and to adopt. Who knows? The world may go the same way with incest one day."

"You seem to feel very strongly about the subject."

She grinned at me. "It's obvious, isn't it? I guess, as a doctor, I should be more careful with opinions like this. It could get embarassing."

"Can I ask a personal question?"

"Aren't I the one supposed to be asking that? Okay, go ahead."

"Are you and your - I mean, I couldn't help but notice the way you kiss - I mean, are you and your father...?"

"Are we lovers?" she completed, laughing softly. "It's a secret, but yeah! There would be no use denying it after you saw us kissing, and besides, it could be relevant to the matter at hand. Yes, Dad and I are lovers. Have been for the past two years. And except for raise a family, we have done everything else couples are supposed to do. Making love, dating, honeymooning, dancing... We even went so far as to get engaged!"

"That's romantic!"

"Isn't it? I told you - how can something so nice be dirty? I'll admit that before I slept with Dad, I was in your mindset - all that changed the first time we made love. Now I can't think of a life without him."

"Is he a widower?"

"Nice way of asking if my mother is still alive. Yes, she is, and she is still living with us. She was a bitch once upon a time, and Daddy and I started to spend more time at the office to avoid being with her. It was inevitable, then, that the chemistry happened, and Daddy and I found ourselves all sweaty and naked one evening. 

"There were no regrets, though, after the fact, and the only misgiving was that it hadn't happened sooner. It soon blossomed into a full affair, and we set up an apartment where we could sneak off to. Then, once, we dashed off - just like that - to Vegas, telling Mom some bogus story of a wealthy casino owner there.

"Eventually, Mom found out. She tracked Dad to the apartment, and barged in to find the two of us; I'll never forget the look on her face. Her knees just gave way, and while she never told anybody, she went into a kind of depression. Kind of like she had lost everything. 

"It was a side of Mom I had never seen. Up until then, she had always baited me, insulting and domineering, but that day changed everything. She didn't speak a word to us for two days, and when she did finally speak, it was a shock! She was apologising for barging in, for violating our privacy. At first, we thought she was setting us up, but soon, we realized that she was in fact, dead serious.

"She started to resign herself very easily. When I walk into a room, she would move away from Dad, as if afraid that I would think something. She moved out of their bedroom, and slept in the loft so that she wouldn't interrupt us. It got so bad that she was almost like a slave to us, a footservant. She would wash our clothes, make the bed, make dinner, insist on cleaning and what-not.

"For Dad, it was all the more painful. It was not the woman he had married, it was not what she had turned into. She was little more than a shadow. 

"It took us over four months to realize that she was suffering from reverse schizophrenia."

Megan paused, watching me as the information sunk in. As far as I was concerned, she could be predicting the future. Was this the case her father had claimed had been successfully treated with incest?

As if reading my mind, Megan broke in. "I am sure Dad would have told you that your situation has a precedent. This wasn't it, but it gave Dad the idea of suggesting it to the other family. Like you, they were reluctant at first, but then the father warmed to the idea. Before long, the girl also agreed. Suffice to say that it took them all of six months for the mother to get all right."

"Six months?" I exclaimed. I had no idea it would take so long.

"Quite frankly, that's one case. There's no telling how long your mother will take - it could be six months, six weeks, less, more. It's not an exact treatment. The only bright side is that if things work out well between you and your dad, six months might seem like too little a time."

I don't know how long I had intended any affair with Dad to go on, but six months had definitely not crossed my mind. Now that Megan had raised the point, any decisiveness I had managed to build up vanished. Half a year is a long time to fall out of love - or into it! What if Mom became alright and demanded that I leave her husband alone? What then? Could I do it? 

"What happened?"

"Which one, mine or the earlier one? Doesn't matter, both had happy endings. We managed to get rid of Mom's depression, and she - I love her for it - asked that Dad and I not stop, said that was the least she could do for us. Basically, I think she didn't want to live with the fear that we could fall into each other again, and what better way to get us to stop doing it behind her back than to let us do it in front of her?

"As for the other family, they got careless. The girl got pregnant, and it was only when the news was announced that her mother flipped back. She went ballistic, and thankfully, her father being a doctor, sedated her. Dad and I hypnotised her into willingly listening to the daughter's and husband's part of the story. She forgave them, but it took her a couple of months more to come to turns with the fact that the father and daughter would always remain lovers.

"Now, Kelly, I know this is hard for you. You may have never thought of your father as a man or as a partner, and I have to warn you - the moment you do, you will be hooked. Every man thinks his daughter is the most beautiful, every daughter her father's the most handsome. I've seen your father, and I must say he is still in his prime. You are what, eighteen? Okay, nineteen. 

"It's a wonderful age for falling in love, nineteen, but that's when it gets cemented. If you still think incest is repulsive, stop! Don't even consider your father in the equation.

"But if incest does not bother you, if the only question that you want answered is, will he be as good for you as you would be for him? Then, my dear, you are already hooked. You might just as well take off all your clothes and jump in bed with him."

I pondered this for a while. It was well-put, blunt and to the point, but it wasn't suggestive. The decision had to be mine 100%. I closed my eyes and reclined on the soft cushion, deliberating if I could take the final step or not. And then, just for the briefest of seconds, I felt Dad kissing me on my lips. It was sheer imagination, but it did the trick.

"I think," I said, rolling each word over my tongue, "Talking to Dad would be a good idea."

"Is that a yes?"

"That is a yes."

"You must really love him."

"It's all for mother, really."

"Of course, how stupid of me!"

The two of us giggled. "Okay, so I do love him too. It's a secret, right?"

Megan raised her right hand. "Doctor's ethics." Then she lowered her voice to a whisper, and in a conspiratorial tone, "He is just too sexy, isn't he?"

I could only blush.

It was early afternoon when I drove home. It was the summer hols, and I would be having the house all to myself. Mom was gone on a trip upstate, and Dad would be late as he had to visit Doctor Malwinch. I pulled into the garage, locked the car and went in.

The first thing on my agenda was a shower, and I stripped off right in the bedroom itself. Gone was the confusion of an hour ago - strangely, my heart was now light. It was as if I was in love - which, in a way, I had to admit I was. Nagging at me was the only fear that Dad might say no, but the female in me wanted to seduce Dad if he refused. The question wasn't if, it was when.

I guess I lost sight of the fact that we were supposed to be doing this to get Mom back. The water had never felt so good against my body, and there was this new life coursing through me. It was something akin to the first time Ronald had spoken to me, all of three years ago. He was my first, and only love. There had been a couple of guys after that, but none had come close to him.

Now it was just Dad. And I wanted him to come into the room, take me in his arms, crush my lips with his and just kiss until the end of the world. 

God, I thought to myself, Megan was so right. I had admitted to myself that I had a huge crush on Dad only an hour ago, and already I was as jittery as a sixteen year old on her first date. 




Good Advice



Then my eyes fell on a picture of the three of us. Dad, me and... Mom.

I hadn't closed my bathroom door, but I hadn't heard the front door open over the sound of the shower. I had never cultivated any habit of taking any of my fresh clothes into the bathroom, and wrapping a towel loosely around myself, I stepped out.

I glanced at the mirror, absently evaluating my chances of being desirable to Dad. Brown, curly hair that reached down to my nipples, brown eyes, small but sharp nose, thin lips, long neck, firm breasts that had been acknowledged as gravity-defying, pink nipples, firm stomach... Just the typical American teenage girl. Dad was around six feet tall, but I was just half a head taller than Mom's 5'3" frame. 

Bending over, I threw my wet hair over my head and untied the towel. I had just started rubbing my hair when I heard my father's exclamation.

"Oops! Sorry, Kell!"

Looking up, I saw Dad staring at me for a split second before turning away, and I realized with a start that I was stark naked. Hurriedly, I wrapped the towel around my body, cursing myself for having chosen the shortest one I had. I dared pull it up only as high as my nipples - half of the areolas were no longer a hidden vision. To pull it up any higher would only expose my pussy.

"I should have knocked," Dad began to apologise.

"It's alright, Dad," I said, placing an arm so as to cover the rest of my breasts. If Dad hadn't turned around, I might have been bold enough to let him see as much as he could - hell, I might not even have bothered with the towel! "You can turn around now. In case you haven't noticed, I hadn't closed the door. You couldn't have knocked."

Dad turned around slowly, and it was a mixture of relief and disappointment that I saw on his face. He held a package in his hand, gift-wrapped, which he handed over to me.

"What is it?" I asked as I took it from him with one hand, not daring to risk the towel slipping off. "Anything special?" Something had to be special - Dad wouldn't have been home this early if it wasn't.

"I saw the doctor today," Dad offered by way of explanation. If he was looking for a reaction from me, I disappointed him - forcing him to continue. "He told me you have agreed..."

I nodded. I wanted him to take the initiative.

"I - I stopped at Lacy's on the way home," he said, changing the subject. Lacy was the local lingerie statement - a set from Lacy's would have me broke for a month. "Thought I would pick up something for you." Abruptly, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving me half-naked and puzzled. Why Lacy's?

I shut the door after him, then placed the box on the bed. A part of me wanted to bawl myself out for having let an opportunity go begging, but I figured just as immediately that we would have to develop everything slowly, in front of Mom. My focus shifted back to the elegantly-packed gift on my bed.

Inside were a couple of complete lingerie sets - thongs, bras, slip... One was jet blacy, but it was only when I picked it up that I realized that it stretched at the slightest pull to turn translucent. The bra cups were little more than silk threads woven to hold the straps together. I expected the second set, of a full shade of body pink, to be of the same type, but boy, was I mistaken! The bra was a quarter the size of the usual cups, and the panties - thin to the point of being nonexistent.

I laid out the wisps - for they were indeed little more than that - of clothing on my bed. First glance told me they would be a tight fit, and when I tried to slip on the black bra, I realized that the female intuition is infallible. I reached around for the strap and clamped it with some difficulty - in the process, a nipple had slid out of the confines of the bra and peeked obscenely. 

I slid on the bottoms, and studied my appearance. Okay, so the naughty nipple still threatened to poke out of the cup, but at least I had managed to get him back in. The back of the thong, as all thongs do, vanished into the crack of my ass, with the front V tapering so much that I could feel the air on my lips. I still didn't know, though, why Dad had gone to the expense and trouble of getting me these undies.

I reached into my wardrobe for something to wear when a naughty thought struck me. Still clad in the lingerie, with nothing over or under it, I decided that it would be the proper attire when asking Dad the why of his buying me these.

Dad's mouth gaped open when he saw me stroll into the kitchen, almost nude. I am sure he would never have thought that I would have modeled them for him so soon, which was why he was motionless until I stepped away after planting a kiss on his cheeks, my breasts lightly brushing against his arm.

"So what's the occasion, Pops?"

His eyes travelled the length of my body, dwelling partcularly on the dark shades of my nipples and my unshaved bush. Rather than distract him, I let him see his share of my body. I decided the next word would be his.

Dad knew the instant he met my gaze that I had caught him looking, and he immediately averted his eyes. I had almost made up my mind to say something when he asked, "Are you sure about this, honey?"

"As much as I can be," I relaxed. "It's all to get Mom back."

"Yes," he repeated, "It's to get Mom back, but have you realized we may have to go all the way?"

"Dad, Megan told me that it took them a baby..."

"And still, you agreed?"

"Like she said, that was one case. Maybe we wouldn't have to go beyond heavy petting and kissing before Mom flares up."

"But if we do?"

"I am willing to do whatever it takes, Papa, and I am sure I will never regret it."

"If you are so sure..."

"I am so sure."

"That's a load off my chest," Dad sighed.

"What about you? Any misgivings?" I asked.

"Just the fact that you happen to be my daughter. Anybody else, and ..." he left the rest to imagination.

"So what's with all this lingerie and stuff?" 

Dad smiled sheepishly at me. "Part of the deception. I haven't bought your Mom something this daring in the last three-four years - too tempting! Maybe she will get jealous or something. Besides, a young thing like you should also dress sexy. Very sexy."

"So you like it?"

"Even better on you."

That brought some flush to my cheeks. "Speaking of it 'on me,' how did you get the size almost correct?"

"What do you mean by almost?" Dad roared in mock-indignation. "It's a perfect fit. You just better not try any exercising with those on, that's all!" Then he grinned sheepishly. "You won't believe the trouble I had just picking the right size. When I gestured your size to the saleswoman, she rattled off a range of sizes... It was a lucky guess, but I almost blurted out that I didn't know the cup-size of my own daughter."

"Gee! I wonder what they would have thought of a father who knew his daughter's size..." 

"Good God! I never thought of it that way! Anyway, all's well that ends well."

"Not quite. These things are still a mite too small."

Dad looked at my wear, then smiled. "We could exchange them tomorrow, if you want," he offered, "I can also show them that my girlfriend is worth every cent I throw her way."

"That's a compliment," I quipped, "I think. What's your plan, Dad?"

"I was thinking of renting a movie. Dinner, then sleep. Got an early day tomorrow. Your Mom's coming on the five am flight. What about you?"

"Absolutely clueless. No date, nothing. Say, why don't we go over our 'affair'?"

"Good idea. It's already dark, so why don't I get the dinner ready?"

"Let me help - "

"Not in that costume you are not, unless you want some burnt potatoes and toast. It's too much of a distraction. Now, off you go."

As I walked out of the room with an exaggerated catwalk, Daddy made as if to slap me on my ass. I swerved, but his hands still brushed across the bare skin - it was exciting to know that there was something improper in the gesture. Giggling, I ran up the stairs to my room.

Dinner that night was a very pleasant affair, perhaps more so because of the fact that each of us were considering the occasion as an opportunity to see each other as a date. We were hardly in appropriate attire, though, with me just having thrown a loose shirt over a set of old panties, and Daddy had traded in his pants and shirt for an open-necked t-shirt and shorts. Dad and I joked and kidded each other throughout the meal, but neither of us spoke anything about Mom or our future. That was to be the dessert.

I was constantly aware of Dad's eyes on me as I stretched my hands so as to keep all the utensils - like I mentioned, I am not as tall as Dad - in their shelves. Eventually, he stood beside me and, holding me gently around the waist, gave me that extra lift. Together, we had the dishes put away in no time.

"Tell me something, Dad," I asked, turning around so that I was facing him. "What was your reaction when the doctor told you we could do this?"

"Quite frankly," Dad replied, "My first reaction was to throw the guy out of the window. Then he told me you had already agreed. That knocked me for a loop. I guess, though, once I knew you were okay with it, it wasn't sounding too bad anymore..."

"That's why you bought me all the lingerie ... but didn't even ask me, confirm whether I had actually agreed or not?" I pointed out.

"I jumped the gun there. You can't blame me, it ain't everyday that I find out my daughter wouldn't mind making love with me!"

"Honestly," I continued, "Was I just as ... attractive - before the doc pointed it out to you that we could be an ... item?"

Now Dad averted his eyes. "I don't think I can answer that question, sweetie. It might make you think bad of me..."

I placed a soft kiss on his lips. Instinctively, his arms cupped my ass-cheeks. Even though the kiss lasted only a second, I lingered on his touch, our lips so close his breath was tickling me. "If the answer is yes," I told him, "I wouldn't mind."

Dad cleared his throat. "I don't think every father feels this, but then again, not every father has a wonderful daughter like you. I've always found you attractive, sweetie, and your beautiful nature - and face and body - are something anyone might find a little too challenging to resist. There was a time when I even fantasised about sneaking into your room at night and watching you sleep naked... Are you sure you don't mind?"

Wow! This was a side of my father I had never known, never even suspected. I squeezed his elbow to reassure him. "The fact that you did nothing then... you are a good man, Pop. Did you stop, or do you still...?"

"It took a lot, but I was able to resist the temptation before I did anything wrong. You never used to sleep naked, but it was still a treat to watch your form on the bed. There were times when I wanted to kill myself lest I hurt the child I loved dearer than life."

I realized this was taking a lot out of Dad, but perhaps - no, definitely - he would feel better once we held nothing back. It was not just a little exciting to hear him admit that he fantasised me, and I regretted the fact that I hadn't worn a bra. All Dad had to do was touch my nipples and he would find them rock-hard. In spite of myself, I wanted to kiss this man deeply, assuring him every second that I could never think bad of him.

Not after what I knew.

"It's not that bad," I consoled him, "There are dads who go around raping their girls for half as much feeling. I don't just love you, Dad, I respect you. Even more now."

We embraced silently, my head on his shoulder, and we stood like that for almost a full minute. "That means a lot to me," Dad admitted as we pulled away. We held hands like lovers reluctant to part, before finally releasing each other. Dad smiled at me, and returned the favor. "What about you, sweetie? You ever think of me as a - um, hunk?"

I looked into his eyes, brown like mine, and smiled. "Ever since I was born," I said, "Not a hunk, Daddy, but something more." I searched for the appropriate word. "A person. Someone I would want to spend the rest of my life with. You are that kind of guy, Daddy, I would have married if you weren't my father."

"It always boils down to that, doesn't it, baby?" Daddy asked ruefully, drawing me closer towards him. "I will always be your father, and you will always be my daughter. Anything else..." His voice trailed away.

We hugged silently, my breasts quashed against his chest. I could sense an erection on him, but it was something that was now acceptable - at least, to me. In fact, it added to my feminine ego - Dad liked me enough to consider me as a grown woman. 

We pulled apart, once again not wanting to but having to, and walked hand-in-hand into the living room. I sat first, and as naturally as if it had been routine, Dad stretched out on the couch, his head on my lap, on my bare thigh. It gave me the tingles just to know that Daddy was just a mite away from my sensitivity, and to distract myself from the feeling, I bent over and gave Daddy a kiss on his forehead. In the process, though, my breasts pressed against the side of his face. Even as I straightened, Daddy turned to left slightly, his lips brushing against my breasts through the material of the shirt, and I couldn't help but shudder slightly.

"God, if this is how things are now, how the hell are we going to act sensibly?"

I had to laugh at Dad's expression as he looked at me with a mock-terrified expression. "Who says we have to?" I shot back, and Dad smiled.

"Seriously, hun, I am still worried. I mean, we've covered a lot of distance in a single day, haven't we?"

"Humm!" I agreed. 

"Can we walk back all the way? This is the first time we've been so... expressive, but I don't think I would ever want it to stop. Not now, not when your mother gets alright, not even if you have to get married. Jesus, not ever!"

"Ditto, pops." I knew where he was leading, but being the headstrong teenager, I wasn't about to make backing out any easier for him.

"What if we can't, sweetie, we have to but we can't?"

He was serious now, as worried as I had ever seen him. "Then we won't, Pop. If we don't want to..."

He shook his head. "We would have to want, honey. Your mother's worth it, isn't it? I don't think I can live without her, and I know I can't live without you. It's not just the physical intimacy, you know..."

I ran a hand through his hair. "I know exactly how you feel, Daddy. But I don't think I want to say no right now."

We locked eyes, mine stared defiantly back at him. In the end, he answered. "That goes for me too... I have built so many dreams... still, I just hope we can do what we have to do... now and later. Whatever happens, Kelly, I love you."

"Not more than I love you!" The tension was suddenly lifted, the two of us laughed.

We watched a couple of old shows on TV, for about an hour or so. Dad was lying on his side, and it was damn cheeky of him to rub his face against my bare leg. His day's growth of beard tickled me, and his breath gave me goosebumps all over. Surely, he would have noticed it - but no, Dad had no idea of the effect he was having on me. 

Yeah, sure!

It was soon time to go to bed, and as Dad stood up, I stretched. Dad pulled me up, his hand catching mine, and we walked upstairs. We stood at my door, and Daddy asked me if I could kiss him good-night. I was puzzled until he retreated me against the wall, moving my arms behind until they were right behind my head, and then kissed me on my lips. Full. Wet. Tender. Just as I had imagined it would be.

Dad locked one leg of his around mine, balancing me from sliding forward, and teased my lips with his tongue. As soon as my lips parted, he was inside, probing, tasting, feeling... it was quite an exquisite experience. Every part of my body was alive, but my senses were now limited to touch. His touch. I closed my eyes as we tasted each other, and colors swirled around.

Neither of us noticed the need for fresh air, so intense had been the kiss. It wasn't the hard mashing of lips or senseless grinding of hips, but the sheer warmth in what we had shared was enough to fill the memory of a lifetime. We gasped for breath as we pulled apart, our lungs heaving, but there was this contented smile on his face, as there was, I guess, on mine. 

"That was something," he said, obviously for want of something better to say.

"You can say that again," I concurred, still panting. My Daddy certainly knew his kissing!

"Okay," he replied. "I will. That was something."

That made us laugh. If ever there was any doubt whether I had fallen for this man, there was none now. I was head-over-heels, and gone hard at that!

"That's it, then," Daddy said, exaggerating his yawn. "I guess it's time to call it a night. G'night, love." - I loved the way he said it - "Sweet dreams."

"To you too, Pops. Love you." I didn't trust myself to kiss him once again, and so I just backed up until I was inside my room. Habit made me close the door even as Daddy was walking away, but I didn't lock my door. And I wasn't going to start now.

I took off the shirt and ran the back of my hand over my mouth. I could still sense the blood rushing from that incredible kiss that had seemed so short so long ago. I shook my head at my reflection. Girl, I told myself, it's hardly been a minute. And I was already wanting the next one.

I considered throwing on a nightie - I had never slept naked until then - but then ended up taking off my panties as well. On retrospect, I guess I must have been hoping that Dad would come into my room, as he had admitted he had, tonight... at that moment, though, I told myself it was too hot to wear anything to bed.

With all the turbulence - emotional and physical - that had graced my day throughout, I had assumed that sleep would just be a matter of falling into bed. As it was, I tossed and turned - but sleep was still a dream. I was thinking of Dad too much - every single memory of his touch was keeping me awake. Fingering myself was out of the question - without knowing it, I had made my body exclusive to Daddy. 

It must have been close to an hour after I had come to bed, when I heard the quiet, unmistakable sound of the door creaking open. Assuming that it was Daddy, I was confused whether to let on that I was still awake, or find out what he would do now that walls had been broken down. I chose the latter option, knowing fully well that I wouldn't mind whatever he did.

Only a wafer of light streaked in from the hallway, but it fell right on my body. I could sense, rather than feel, him coming closer, muffled footsteps that were surely his. I could hear his expulsion of air as he stood over me, inches away from my nude body, powerful enough to do anything to me... and yet, he ignored that power. He did nothing.

A part of me was disappointed. The other fell in love with him even more. 

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Dad moved. That is to say, he bent forward. For a second, I thought he was going to do it - he was really going to do it - but all he did was reach for my blanket and pull it up my body. His hands quivered as they reached my bare waist, I could sense it, then crossed it and reached my breasts. 

Like any dutiful father, Dad did the thing he would have done under any other circumstance - he made sure that I was properly tucked in. He was being careful not to touch me 'in places,' but as his fingertips brushed against my nipple, he caught his breath. Collecting himself, as I suppose he must have, he continued until the quilt covered me neck down. 

Then, with just a loving touch to my forehead, he turned to leave. It was out of my mouth before I knew it, and it startled Dad.

"Goodnight, Daddy." There was only a hint of drowsiness.

"Sweetheart, I - goodnight, baby." He hurried out of the room.




Good Advice



By the time I awoke the next morning, the sun had already peeked into our house. Through the open door, I could hear the voices of Mom and Dad, although it was still indistinct enough for me not to make out what they were talking about. I smiled fondly within myself as I recalled my wonderful sleep - within moments of Dad leaving the room, I had fallen into a dreamy slumber, replete with images of Dad... and me...

I lay in bed for around five minutes, naked and on top of the sheets, naughtily hoping that it would be Dad who would come to wake me up. No one came, and in a way, I was relieved. It was one thing to flirt openly when Mom wasn't there, but when she was, it kinda put a crimp in our style, know what I mean? Still, I reminded myself, Dad and I were supposed to make Mom jealous, maybe even possessive. 

It took me another one minute to decide that I would wear just a shirt over my panties. No bra, and I took care to choose a translucent shirt. I buttoned the top up to my breast, but as I walked down the stairs, my hands, seemingly of their own volition, unfastened a few buttons until my entire cleavage would be easily displayed. A part of me was numb to the point of blind following; the other was too excited.

If Mom thought my dress was improper, she didn't let on. Dad, on the other hand, was immediately flustered. I guess I had a really bad-hair look, something like I had just been truly fucked, and I have to admit I enjoyed the tease I was putting on. I gave Mom the obligatory peck on the cheeks, greeting her with a "Hello, Mom? Flight on time?" Dad, on the other hand, got a wet kiss on his cheeks and a bear hug to boot.

Mom couldn't have missed it, but she said nothing. My hopes rose - we might have to go a step further. And I would be the last one to complain, obviously.

I picked the chair beside Dad's, making no effort to disguise the fact that I moved even closer to him. As Mom settled down for her breakfast, I spotted the bottle of jam on the opposite side of the table. I made quite a production out of reaching for the jam, startling Dad when I pressed my chest into his hands. Involuntarily - or voluntarily - he squeezed my tit lightly. The sensation was so different that I stopped for a second, my nipple pressing into his palm through the thin material of the shirt, but my sudden, muted sigh did not even evoke as much as a raised eyebrow from Mom. She heard it, of that I am sure.

Eating passed without any other incident, and Dad heaved a sigh of relief when Mom stood up. It wasn't that you could blame him - in fact, I was rubbing my bare legs against his throughout the entire time, getting his dual-purpose shaft to stand erect. I almost broke out when he stood up, his boner so evident that you could hang a weight on it, and the shade of his face was priceless. 

In a way, I was buoyed by the fact that Mom did nothing. Don't get me wrong - I know it asserted the Doc's diagnosis - but selfishly, I was glad that we didn't have to stop. With each passing moment with Dad, my heart was beating faster... it is only a matter of time, I told myself.

Dad was still a wee bit reluctant initially, but he warmed to my teasing. Sometimes, when I walked around in a bikini, he would make catcalls, especially if Mom was close enough to hear his comments. I allowed him the luxury of ogling me as much as he could, and as the days passed, so did any remaining inhibitions. I would bend over in front of Daddy, giving him - with Mom's knowledge - a good view down my cleavage.

Then, before we even knew it, a month had passed. It was my birthday.

Mom told us in the morning itself that she would be late coming home, that she had some business to take care of. Dad and I weren't too disappointed though - it was kinda expected. Still, the confirmation did put a crimp on the mood, and I vetoed Dad's idea of having a party that evening. Instead, we agreed, this evening would be a special one - but only for the two of us.

On retrospect, I guess both of us knew, rather than hoped, that we would go far today. I was eagerly counting the hours.

In the evening, Dad once again offered to take me out to dinner, but I declined. I wanted the intimacy of my home for this special event, and I told him so. We sent out for pizza and bought a carton of ice cream, and that was it. Dad asked me if I wanted a movie, and I asked him to get me the scariest one. Dad got the message, and grinned wolfishly at me.

Just as I was about to get the ice cream from the freezer, Dad ushered me into his bedroom. His and mom's. There, on a stand that was waist-high, was a white, cream cake. I was as surprised as I was touched, and the words on the cake, "Celebrating the day you gave me life... Dad," brought tears to my eyes. Dad just held me as I sniffled, his hand over my shoulder, another holding my hand. It was an atmosphere of love.

Nineteen candles is too much to blow out with a single breath, but I found myself wishing for what I wanted to have. Daddy. Even though it was just the two of us, it was great fun, what with Daddy and me smearing each other with the cake. Between the two of us, we managed to waste most of the cake onto our faces, laughing silly, until there was only a little of the cake left.

I have quite a fondness for cherries, but just as I reached for the red berry topping the cake, Dad swiped it off. "Give me that!" I shrieked as I tried to grab it out of his hand without success. Dad dodged, and ran to the other side of the room. I gave chase, and before long, I was pinned beneath him on the bed, Daddy grinning as he held the cherry over my pouting expression.

Big mistake! 

In a flash, I craned my neck forward and snapped off the berry, putting it into my mouth. I didn't swallow it though, for I wanted it to share it with Daddy, a kind of symbolic invitation.

"Damn!" Dad said, smiling his frustration.

"You can still have my cherry," I replied, trying to give my voice a sultry touch. Dad's eyes brightened for an instant, then grinned as I brought the cherry up and held it between my teeth. Half in and half out. I made a small motion with my neck, asking him to come closer, and to my delight, Dad obliged.

He tilted his face and brought his mouth over the half of the cherry that was sticking out, and the touch of his lips against mine was definitely electric. Each of us bit off a half, more to let our tongues free than to eat the fruit, and kissed like we never had before. Over the last two months, Dad and I had kissed every single night - and yet, this was quite unlike anything I had ever experienced before.

Our lips were now sealed to each other, and I could feel the tongues dancing out of the intensity. The feeling was so exquisite that I allowed myself the luxury of closing my eyes as he savored me, as I was savoring him. 

We rolled over on the bed, ending up with me on top, and kissed some more. Dad's hands started to fumble around the neckline of my blouse, and he hesitated for only a second before he started to started to pull down on the V. The material tore in his hands, and he completed the formalities by just ripping it off my body. It was a new top but I couldn't care less.

Dad's eyes lit up as he saw my tits for the first time. Anticipating just such a turn of events, I had decided not to wear a bra - and even if I had, he would have just torn that off too! We broke up the kiss, panting, and I smiled at Daddy. I guess I had the expression of a cheshire cat who's just had his share of milk. Dad smiled back, but there was no mistaking the desire in his eyes. 

Before I could catch my breath completely, though, Dad whisked my skirt down and away from me. He twisted his body so that now, once again, I was underneath him. And then, ever so slowly, he slid down the length of my body until his face was just above my panties.

His first kiss to my navel threatened to send me over the edge, and I gripped the sheets as tightly as I could to keep from thrashing about. It was no more than a peck and I seriously doubted I could withstand a lot more. The assault on my senses didn't end there, as Dad trailed his tongue down my stomach to the waistband of my panties.

I felt his hands slide underneath my ass - instinctively, I raised my buttocks a little in the air. I was quite surprised, though, when Dad didn't use his hands to remove my panties; he used his mouth instead! He caught the hem of my panties between his teeth and slowly started to tug at them, moving them down my leg inch by inch. 

As soon as my beaver was exposed, however, Dad forgot all about niceties. That he ravished me is a question beyond doubt, and that moment, I really didn't think I would survive the fireworks. Dad pushed the elastic band down to my knees and wrapped his mouth around my crotch. No one - and I mean NO ONE - had ever gone down on me before. It was quite a thrill to know that the first man to do so was my Dad.

Until then, I had to content myself with stories from my friends about how their dates drank dry their sopping wet pussies, but now that I was experiencing it, I was sure none of them had it this good. Dad's tongue sneaked into my hole, and I madly clutched his hair and pushed him even deeper, as much to my delight as to my shock.

Dad had his face buried between my legs until I came, bucking wildly against his face. Adding to everything was the feel of his stubble against my rather sensitive lips that made me cum the hardest I've ever in my life. Boy, was this a night of firsts!

I opened my eyes to find Daddy's gazing into mine.

"Sweetheart," Daddy asked, a little concern in his voice. "You okay?"

"You do that again, and I will die," I replied, holding his cheeks in my hand.

Dad placed a finger on my lips. "Hush, darling," he whispered. "Don't talk about death. There's still so much in life that we have to share..." And with that, without even waiting to see if I was going to protest weakness, he swallowed a breast, my erect nipple pressed against the back of his mouth.

Dad started to suckle so heavily that for a second, I feared my nipple was going to get sucked clean off my body. The hard bud didn't, though, and tortured me by being even more sensitive to Daddy's caresses. With one hand, my father kneaded the other breast, while the other rubbed my back lovingly.

And at that moment, the phone rang! 

We ignored the first ring - hell, we didn't even hear it - but it continued incessantly, breaking into our coupling. I had more than half a mind to take the receiver off the hook and keep it there, but one look at Daddy's face assured me that it would be nothing more than a nuisance. There was nothing to keep us from finishing what we started tonight.

Were we mistaken!

"Hello, is this Mr.Harter's residence?"

"Yes, who is it?" I was aware I sounded rude, but whoever it was deserved it for their rotten timing.

"I am Deputy Stanford Whitman, from the Sheriff's Department. I've got some bad news for you."

"I am Kelly Harter, his daughter." Warning bells had started to go off. Was it something about ... us?

"Miss Harter, I am sorry to tell you this..." he paused before dropping the bombshell, "Your mother was in an accident on the highway an hour ago. Right now, we are at the Rev.James Memorial Hospital on 5th Street. She's ok, but could you come over right away? She might need some blood."

"We'll be there in ten minutes," the words came out automatically.

"What happened?" Daddy asked, seeing the shocked expression on my face.

"It's Mom," I said, the weight hitting me, "She's had an accident. She's now at the Memorial Hospital."

"Dear God! What happened?"

"I don't know... Daddy, I am so afraid. It was my fault..."

"Shush, honey." Dad put his arms around me, realizing that I was babbling, but he was no longer the lover. He was my father now, that strong, caring man who had always been there for me. "It is no one's fault. Come on, girl, cheer up! Daddy needs you to be brave..."

It took me a full minute to regain my composure, and Dad held me close the entire time. Finally, I stood up. "I'll go get dressed."

Dad nodded, saying nothing, but I could see something in his eyes I had rarely seen before. A faraway look that was filled with sadness. It tore my heart to leave him at a time like this, but I knew what had to be done. We had to be there for Mom, I told myself. We had to.

To cut a long story short, the trauma of the accident left Mom with a bit of amnesia. Her wounds took her three months to heal, and Dr.Malwinch visited her every other day to talk her through. Apparently, Mom had no idea she had been diagnosed with R-She-z, but the bright side was that she didn't seem to have it anymore. Her eyes lit up when she saw me or Dad, she was attentive, and she started to fuss over my choice of clothing and shared recipes. According to the Doc, the knock in the head did literally knock sense into her.

I had my Mom back... but that meant I would lose my love. It made me sick when I sometimes, for just a fraction of a second, wished Mom hadn't recovered; I wouldn't have had to lose Dad then. Sometimes I damned her, sometimes I damned myself. It took a month for Mom to get discharged from the hospital, and it was sheer pain to keep myself off Dad the entire time.

I still remember the conversation we had when Dr.Malwinch informed us that Mom had made a dramatic turnaround. After he left, and Mom was sedated for the night - it was less than a week from her accident - Dad and I drove home in silence. There were no midnight kisses, no flirting, none of the advances we had made towards each other. Instead, we sat down. We talked.

"Dad," I began, feeling that he was searching for words, "Now that Mom is alright, do we..." I dared not hope, for I knew the decision we had to make.

Dad shook his head regretfully. Words were not said much, but we conveyed what we had to. "She could find out. Maybe if we stop now..."

I nodded. We hadn't gone all the way - perhaps one day, I would look back and dismiss all this as a silly infatuated episode, Daddy said - but both of us knew that it would never be. We sat there in silence, holding hands, until Dad stood up. He gave a kiss to my forehead, very fatherly, and walked to his room. I heard the lock snap into place.

And I cried that night. I knew I would never find that part of me that I had lost to Dad...

It took Mom around three months to recover from the emotional side of the accident. Once in a while, Dr.Malwinch or his daughter Megan would call up and give an update, always very positive, and all of us, by some unspoken agreement, skirted what Dad and I had been about to embark on. We pretended as if it had never happened, but I didn't trust myself to be with Daddy again. It wasn't that I feared him - to me, HE was the irresistible damnation. I still wanted him, I still craved him. 

After Mom was completely cleared mentally, a part of what had been her affliction was explained to her. Wisely, no one mentioned anything about the plan that brought Daddy and I together, and it was left to her conclusion that we were looking for a cure when she had her accident. She bought it. 

A couple of weeks later, Mom suggested that all of us - Dad, I, Mom, Dr.Malwinch, Megan - go out for dinner. We had all become close friends in course of time, and I had confided to only one person in the world - Megan - that I still had trouble letting go of my feelings towards my father. She was supportive, sympathetic and tried to cheer me up, never letting up in spite of the lack of progress.

I wore a single-strap gown for the dress, something Mom bought to make up for missing my birthday, and as I slipped it on, I remembered that faraway night four months ago. How we had come so close to consummation...

As Mom and Dad danced together that night, I found myself growing jealous of her. Dammit! I thought, that should have been me, in his arms, dancing with him, laughing, loving... Megan and her father would occasionally cast me sympathetic glances, but that was not what I wanted. And then, something snapped inside me, something that had held me from really throwing myself at my father. The physical need was suddenly alive as I resolved that tonight - at least tonight - I would have daddy the way a woman has a man.

Inside me.

The two couples had just made their way back to the tables when I grabbed Daddy's hand and stole him from Mom. He made a smiling protest that he was too tired, but was just a step behind me as we walked into the dance floor. It was a slow, sensual song, ideal for couples in love, and Dad held me in his arms as we waltzed around.

I pressed myself against him, close enough to feel his arousal, yet far enough to avoid suspicion, and enjoyed the moment. The wetness between my legs grew as Daddy's hand started to rub my back, the other slipping down my bare shoulder to the swell of my breast, and I felt myself stiffening at his touch. God, it had been so long since I had felt that...

So long since I had felt alive.

As the dance ended, I moved closer to Dad, as if giving him a daughterly kiss on the cheeks, and whispered, "Daddy, I want you. Just follow my cue."

Dad gave me a shocked expression, which I sought to downplay by laughing out as if it were a joke, the charade mainly for my mother's sake, and Daddy played along. By the time we got to the table, Mom and Malwinches were looking at us rather amused that we should have enjoyed each other's company so much. Megan questioned me with a furtive glance, but I just smiled back as if it were nothing.

Halfway into the course, I could feel myself getting as wet as I ever had in my life. It was time, I decided, for everything. I couldn't wait.

'Accidentally,' I cut my finger with a knife, and although the gash wasn't deep, a few drops of blood was all it took for me to excuse myself to go the restroom and wash the cut. I picked up my handbag, ostensibly because I was having a strip of Band-aid in it 'somewhere.' Dad immediately caught on and was by my side in a flash, offering to help me, and we hurried away before anyone could say another word.

We went straight into the women's room. It seemed as if the Gods were finally on my side - there was no one inside, and I quickly pulled Daddy in and locked the door. Daddy whirled me around even before I had slid the latch completely, and planted one of the wettest kisses on my lips. I was as hungry for this touch as he was, and we were kissing like devils possessed within no time.

"Hmmm, Daddy," I moaned as we pulled apart with a slurp, "I love you. And I want you."

"I love you too, Sweetie," Daddy replied as he pushed the strap of my gown down my hand, freeing my breasts. They were heavy, I could feel their weight and their throbbing, but when Dad started to bend over, I pushed his face away.

"There is no time," I explained, my voice once again having a sexy undertone in it. Dad grabbed my hips and lifted me a few inches off the air as I slid off my soaked panties and pulled my gown up, bunching it around my middle. Dad placed me on the basin platform, then proceeded to unzip his pants and slid them down. I grabbed the hem of his underwear with my toes and pushed them downwards, and Daddy was as naked as I wanted him to be at that moment.

As we pulled each other closer again, Daddy rammed his pussy into my hole, on target the first time itself. No time was lost on niceties; he plunged all the way inside, right to the foot of his dick, and the sensation of having his balls crash against my lips was so delightfully wicked that I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from crying out. My legs, of their own volition, wrapped themselves around his waist, locking behind his ass, and Daddy started to pound me.

Dad cupped his hands underneath my butt and lifted me into the air, so that I was now totally supported on him, and used that to slide me up and down his cock. It took us less than a minute to let go, getting off simultaneously, and Dad set me back on the basin. Still coupled, the two of us struggled for another minute to catch our breath.




Good Afternoon



(This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people and places is purely coincidental.)

"Good afternoon, Male Models Limited, how may I help you?" 

"Ah, Hello, I saw your add in the paper saying you are looking for male models."

"Yes, that's right, we have several openings this week for interviews, would you like me to put you down for one?"

"Well, I've never done anything like this before, so can you tell me something about it? What do I need to do and stuff? How much is the pay, that sort of thing."

"Sure, how this starts is we make an appointment for you to come to our offices, then when you get here, we have a full packet of information which includes all the information about our company and staff. It also includes pictures of some of our finest models as examples of our work. There are also legal documentation for your review and signature." There was a pause for a moment, "I'm sorry, I have another call on the other line, can I put you on hold for a moment?"

"Sure, no problem."

"Thank you. I'll be back with you in a moment." There was a click followed by elevator type music of one of the old Beatles songs, Hey Jude.

Justin pressed the speaker phone button and put the head set down. He turned to his left where he could see his reflection in the window over looking the relic of a neighborhood he live in and grew up in. He pretended the window was a mirror, and posed as though he was setting for a photo shoot. Only having taken one pose, the elevator music stopped, the voice of the man on the other end of the phone line came back on.

"Hello, are you there?"

"Yes, I'm here."

"Good, sorry to keep you waiting. Are you interested in scheduling an interview?"

"Ummm, well, yeah, I guess. I guess that's why I called."

"Alright, lets see," a short pause, "we have an opening tomorrow afternoon at 2:30. Would that work for you?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'll need to get some information from you, then I'll give you our address and directions on how to get here if you need them." The sound of fingers tapping on a keyboard can be heard as he continues, "I'll need your name, address, phone number, age and current employer information if you are employed."

"My name is Justin Justice, I'm 18, unemployed at the moment, that's why I called. My address is 7 East Street, apartment 182. I don't have a phone, I'm calling from a neighbors place."

"You can use that number so we can contact you if we need to reschedule your appointment." "Okay, but he doesn't have an answering machine and isn't always here to answer the phone. The number is 666-9944."

"Good, thank you." Another pause while fingers tapping on a keyboard can be heard. "Now, I need a brief description of you. Height, weight, eye and hair color and race."

"I'm 5 feet 9 and a half inches tall, I have blue eyes and light brown hair and I'm a Caucasian. Oh, and I weigh about 160 pounds."

Some more typing in the background, "Very good. Our address is 101 3rd Street in the Business Towers Building, Suite 769 on the corner of 3rd and Popular Street. Do you know where that is?"

"Yeah, I have walked by there quite a bit on my way to school. It's not far from where I live."

"Alright then, I have you scheduled for 2:30 tomorrow. Any other questions?"

"This might be a dumb question, but what should I be wearing? I mean, if you want to take some pictures, I should be dressed right."

"Business casual clothing is fine. If there are no more questions, I'll see you tomorrow at 2:30. My name is Brent, I'm at the reception desk. I look forward to seeing you."

"Okay, thanks. bye."

Justin put the headset back on the phone cradle and turned to the window again. He smiled at his reflection and gave himself a thumbs up gesture. Marty was in the other room playing a video game on the small tv which was sitting on his dresser amidst empty food wrappers from various fast food restaurants and a couple of game cartridges. As Justin entered the bedroom, he saw Marty sitting on the edge of the bed, deeply engrossed in the game he was playing. His face was contorted as he was frantically pressing the controller buttons.

"I called that number in the paper. I've got an appointment for tomorrow at 2:30."

Marty briefly looked away from the tv screen at Justin standing in the doorway. "Hey, dude, that's great." His attention returned to the game. "Die Mutha Fuckar!" There was a loud explosion from the tv speaker, then silence. Marty was obviously pleased with himself. "Man, I'm fuckin good."

"I had to give them your phone number in case they need to contact me, I hope you don't mind." Justin stepped into the bedroom then sat on the bed next to Marty who put down the game controller and turned towards Justin so they where looking at each other. 

"Sure, fine. I'll be here all day today and tomorrow, so if they call, I'll pound on the wall." He reached out and put his hand on Justin's shoulder, "Hey, you're going to be the best model they have, I guarantee it." He winked and then looked down at Justin's crotch.

Marty had been his next door neighbor for as long as he could remember, he always had admired him because he was strong, kind and friendly. He could tell that Marty spent a lot of time at the gym because his white t-shirt was bulging with this well defined muscular chest. He was strong looking but not massive. Even though Marty was several years older than him, he often fantasized about seeing Marty naked with a hard on. Okay, yes, he'd seen Marty's dick plenty of times. Not only seen it, but held it, stroked it, sucked it and been fucked by it. He was getting a hard on thinking about that. He looked down at Marty's crotch to see, the outline of that beautiful dick resting to the left and partially enlarged under the tight underwear he was wearing.

"I got something here you can pound on right now." Justin looked down at his own crotch and grabbed it in his hand. His gaze then returned to Marty's eye, then crotch.

"I better do that before you get famous and never have the chance to do it again," His hand slid off Justin's shoulder, fingers brushing lightly against the soft cloth that covered his nicely formed chest and continued down to the button on his pants which he undid with one hand.

"Oh, Please don't hurt me Mister!" Justin said in a higher than usual voice, then helped to undo the zipper which revealed his hardening dick still partially hidden by the jeans and white underwear. He giggled, then thrust his crotch forward lifting his butt off the bed while supporting himself with his hands behind and to each side allowed him to lift partially off the bed edge.

Marty took hold of the sides of his pant and underwear and quickly yanked them down to Justin's knees. Justin's now hard cock, sprung free from his shorts with a slapping sound as it hit his soft skin above the dark brown pubic hair. "Oh, don't worry sonny, I won't hurt you." He laughed an evil laugh. This was the game they often played when having sex. In one motion, Marty moved from sitting on the edge of the bed to kneeling in front of Justin with his dick inches from his mouth. "Let's see here, humm, what's this big dick taste like?" Marty's right hand took hold of the base of Justin's dick so as to point it straight at his open mouth after Justin had again returned to a sitting position on the bed.

Justin's hands took hold of Marty's head and moved it towards his hard cock. "Eat me you fuckin cock sucker!" He laughed. "Suck my dick."

Marty didn't need any encouragement as that was what he was already doing. He deep throated Justin's 7 inch cock in one thrust. His lips pressed against the curly pubic hair which danced against his lips as he swirled his mouth from left to right. The smell of Justin's crotch filled his nostrils which he inhaled deeply into his lungs. 

Justin groaned in delight while his fingers ran through Marty's short black oily hair. Looking down he saw the shaft of his dick appearing, then disappearing in the cavity of Marty's hot mouth. Marty's tongue moved around the cock head on the outward strokes. He stopped the pumping action for awhile to savor the taste of Justin's manhood. He licked the length of his dick as though it was an ice cream cone which was about to melt. 

Marty's 9 inch cock was trapped in the confines of his underwear and pants, the feel of the cloth against his hard dick excited him while he continued to feast on Justin's cock. Justin leaned forward reaching down for Marty's crotch and felt the hard dick longing for release.

"Down boy! Down!" Justin said to stop the action for a moment.

"What?" Marty could barely speak with the tip of Justin's dick on his lips.

"Let's get naked."

The heat of the summer's day was increasing making the bedroom hot. Or was it the passion of the moment? Who cares, they both wanted to be naked, it was hot enough with clothes on, it would be more comfortable without them. The smell of their sweaty bodies filled the room as they helped each other peal off the rest of their clothes which dropped onto the floor as they came off. 

"Wanna take a shower together?" Marty said.

"Sure, you stink!" Justin laughed out loud.

"Fuck you ass hole! You don't smell to fine either." He grinned and took hold of Justin's hard dick and used it as a handle to pull him towards the bathroom and into the shower. Justin had to follow. His dick lost some of its firmness as Marty gripped it tightly leading him to the shower.

It wasn't a very big shower stall, barely enough room for both of them to stand in there together, so once the temperature of the water was just right, they stepped into the shower one after the other with Marty being first. He stood with this back to the shower nozzle so that the water was hitting the back of this head. Justin stepped into the shower facing Marty. Because the shower was so small, their bodies touched each other. They embraced, hugging each other close and began a sort of dance where they moved around so the water alternately hit one then the other. As the steam built up around them, their passions also grew. Their mouths locked in an open mouth kiss with tongues dancing with each other while their hands rubbed the body of the other. Marty put his hard dick under Justin's balls as they pressed together, the movement of their dance caused Justin's legs to rub strokingly against the sides of Marty's hard cock.

Justin's hard on stood at attention between them pressing against the area below Marty's belly button. Was it the dance, the heat, the kiss? Whatever it was, they where united in the passion of the moment so much so that they both exploded in orgasm at the same time. Justin stepped back enough to release Marty's dick from between his legs and took it to milk out every drop of cum while Marty did the same to his throbbing hot dick. The water washed their cum down the drain.

Marty took the bar of soap and began to rub it over Justin's body. He washed Justin with loving care, paying particular attention to Justin's dick, balls and ass. When he'd finished with Justin, it was Justin's turn to do the same to him. Justin lathered up the soap rubbing it over Marty's strong tanned body. He noticed that Marty didn't have any tan lines where you would expect them around his waste and legs. His whole body was evenly tanned revealing the fact that Marty sun tanned in the nude. His own body was nicely tanned, but obviously, he'd done no nude tanning.

When they finally had finished this washing dance in the shower, Marty turned off the water and grabbed a towel outside the stall. He stepped out of the shower onto the cool tile floor and dried himself. There was another towel there and Justin used it.


The phone began to ring.

"Shit! I wonder who that could be?" Marty said as he rubbed the towel over his legs then headed for the phone.