4 comments/ 53984 views/ 3 favorites The Gardeners By: Maccar Glenside could be described as the perfect neighbourhood. It's the kind of neat suburban community where everyone likes to fit in, and everyone knows what's expected of them. So, when a house becomes vacant, there's always a feeling of trepidation about who the new occupants might be, and whether they'll be 'one of us'. It's particularly unsettling when newcomers will be moving in next door. That was the situation I found myself in six months ago when Mr and Mrs Evans, who had quietly lived there for over twenty years, decided that retirement would mean a move away to the coast. Hopefully Mr and Mrs Evans aren't planning to come back anytime soon to see their old place. From the front, they would still recognise it, the smart brick house and manicured lawn presenting a image of solid middle class conformity. Around the back though, it's a different story. The pitched tiled roof now boasts solar panels; quite what they will achieve in our dull northern latitude is hard to say. But the really drastic changes have been to the back garden that Mr Evans spent a couple of decades nurturing. His prim flowerbeds, lovingly cultivated perennial shrubs and ornamental trees are gone, ripped up and replaced by something resembling the beginnings of a small scale market garden. A greenhouse to nurture seedlings before their transfer outside has been erected in the far corner. Opposite it, abutting the low trellis fence that divides our gardens, now stands a large wooden storage shed. Richard and Pauline Gower, at a guess in their early fifties and so at least ten years older than me, began the transformation of their new garden soon after they moved in. They were first out in the chill of an early November Saturday, 'preparing the ground' as they called it. Since then, every weekend and on numerous days off in between, they could be seen out there working away. Like a good Glenside resident, my first chat with them had been on the day after their arrival. It was polite and welcoming, but its real purpose to size them up and assess whether the Gowers would fit into our prim little neighbourhood. They had given no clue then that they were into the whole self-sufficiency thing. In fact, thinking back, they had revealed very little information about themselves. All I had really got from them was that they had moved to be closer to Richard's job in insurance, while Pauline worked part-time at a bookshop in the next town. Neither occupation suggested their green leanings. It immediately struck me then, as it still does now, despite what has happened, that Pauline is an attractive woman. I didn't talk to her much for a few weeks after that first chat, but I began to see rather a lot of her. Working mainly from home as a graphic designer, I could sit at my desk in the spare bedroom - or office as I pretentiously insist on calling it - and look out of the window directly down on next door's garden. Watching Pauline out there digging and planting provided a interesting distraction for me, not that I would regard myself as a voyeur. All that toil in her garden was obviously her secret for staying in shape. Standing at around five foot five tall, her body looked trim, and she was clearly winning the battle against middle age spread. Even from my high vantage point, I could usually tell if she had bothered wearing a bra beneath the baggy cotton shirts she invariably wore when in the garden. It was the way her breasts, medium sized and perhaps losing some of their pertness, moved about as she worked. As the weeks went by, I would increasingly find excuses to pop down for over-the-fence chats. Although too infrequent, I looked forward to our conversations, and Pauline seemed happy to pass the time with me. Pauline was totally unselfconscious about her lack of underwear. She seemed unaware that there was a possibility - sadly never fulfilled - that her breasts might be revealed as she leant over to carry on working the earth as we talked. Up close like that, it was also possible to take in what I consider her best feature, her eyes. Large and brown and almond-shaped, they seemed to widen and glisten when she smiled or laughed, an effect highlighted by her flirtatious habit of flicking her fringe out of her eyes. Some of the other Glenside residents told me they thought the Gowers and their eco ways a little odd. I had to agree but, to my surprise, I found myself glad that they - or at least she - had moved in next door. It was during one of our conversations a few weeks ago that Pauline casually mentioned her daughter would be coming home the next weekend. Quite how she had neglected to tell me that she had any children was a mystery, but then I suspected it wasn't in her nature to divulge much about herself unless she chose to, or if the occasion necessitated it. Certainly, I hadn't raised the topic, but having just gone through my divorce, kids could still be a painful subject that only ever seemed to get discussed with lawyers present. Taking the opportunity to delicately delve further into Pauline's life, I managed to glean her daughter's name: Amy. The reason for her return home was spring break, and she was a third-year at college, studying Environmental Conservation - whatever that entailed. It had apparently been Amy's enthusiasm and relentless cajoling of her parents that had resulted in a nice suburban garden being churned up in pursuit of self sufficiency. Pauline didn't mention why Amy hadn't been seen at Christmas, so I was left to figure out it must have been because the Gowers had spent it with some unspecified relatives. I thought about Amy after my conversation with her mother. Not so much what she would be like, but the fact that she existed at all. Pauline hadn't been keeping her a secret, it was just that the subject that hadn't come up between us before, and she hadn't thought to raise it. I wondered how many undeclared siblings Amy had, but that would have to be left for another day. On the Saturday of Amy's return I was upstairs in my spare bedroom office, catching up on some work. Looking out of the window, I wondered who the stranger was that Pauline was showing around her garden, Richard dutifully in tow behind them. Quickly it registered who it must be. So that was Amy, or at least the back of Amy. She was facing away from me, engrossed in conversation with her parents, walking slowly along, crouching down every so often to pick at or prod something poking out of the soil. Only slightly taller than her mother with slim, almost boyish hips, she was wearing the strange combination of a knee-length pale blue floral print dress and heavy black leather lace-up work boots. Her outfit skimmed against a small, gently-rounded bottom, and revealed only the backs of her pale calves. After what seemed an age she finally turned around, but it was difficult to see the features of her face from that distance. Something inside told me I needed to go down there, to study her in more detail. But it would be awkward now, during the reunion with her parents. They wouldn't want to be interrupted, I felt sure, so it was with reluctance I remained sat at the window, pretending to work, hoping I wouldn't be noticed. I awoke the next day already pondering how I could be introduced to her, without the meeting seeming odd or contrived. However, it felt inexplicably weird that I was so curious about her. Why should I be so keen to talk to her? Perhaps it was wanting to compare her to her mother - not just in looks, but to see whether Amy would be as good company as Pauline. Or perhaps it was because Pauline was married and, therefore, almost certainly unobtainable, whereas Amy wasn't. But disappointment prevailed. Despite making frequent checks through whatever window I happened to be near, and even venturing outside a couple of times on the pretence of having to attend to something in my own garden, there was no sign of any of the Gower family. With me having to visit a client's office on the Monday, three days passed before I got to see Amy again. She was out there, with Pauline, working together in the weak spring sunshine. Amy was using a hoe to scrape out long furrows, into which her mother appeared to be depositing seeds. Pauline was wearing one of her usual shirts, with a pair of tight jeans that emphasised the curve of her hips and showed off her thighs beautifully. I suspected, although it was hard to tell for certain, that she had decided on a bra today. It would have been nice to think that she only went without one when she knew the two of us would be alone, but that was probably wishful thinking. Subconsciously, I felt I was betraying Pauline in some way, maybe because for the first time she was not the focus of my attention. She had been usurped by Amy who, even though it wasn't particularly warm, was only wearing a black vest top with a purple cotton skirt that ended just above her knees. Her feet were once again shod in those solid black work boots, which made them seem out of proportion with the rest of her slender body. Sitting at my desk, just staring at the two of them, my mind wandered to thoughts of what lay beneath those outfits... especially Amy's. I was snapped out of the almost trance-like state into which I'd fallen by the realisation that Amy, now stood upright, was looking directly back at me. Oh shit, I thought, she's going to think I'm some seedy old man gawping at her. I tried to duck down and look otherwise preoccupied as subtly as possible. Knowing that the situation couldn't be left like that, I decided that if Amy's initial perception of me was bad, I had to fix it. So, after taking nearly an hour to consider my next move, I summoned the courage to go down. I went out through the back door and walked into the garden. With a mug of coffee in hand, I tried to act as relaxed as possible. 'Hi, come over and meet Amy,' Pauline called across to me. Raising my head towards them, feigning surprise, I wandered over to the low fence that separated our properties. 'Hello Amy, your mother's told me a lot about you,' I said, not sure why, because apart from her existence and the course she was studying, nothing whatsoever had been revealed about her. 'You must be the nice neighbour mum's always talking about,' Amy replied, her voice somewhat quiet but confident nevertheless. Extending my arm towards Amy for a quick, awkward handshake, I felt her small hand against mine. Her palm was soft, and I desperately wanted to warn her that labouring outside would spoil it, and her skin would become rough and hard. Thankfully, I managed to keep silence on the subject. Looking directly at her, I noticed with a small rush of excitement that she had Pauline's eyes. Except on Amy they managed to look even more alluring. It was nothing to do with her age, it was the rest of her face. Somehow her slightly higher cheekbones - her father's contribution to her genetics - combined perfectly with the shape of those eyes. Her mouth, its lips verging on the thin but permanently hinting at a smile, also helped to give Amy's face a kind, friendly look, all framed by her mousy-blonde hair with its pixie cut. As she proceeded to explain what they were planting, I took the opportunity to take in the rest of her. The vest she wore revealed a slender neck and pronounced collarbones. Her narrow shoulders flowed into thin arms that were still holding the hoe she had been working with. At a guess, I would have said her breasts were a C-cup, nicely rounded and slightly splayed. It was not hard to appreciate them beneath that top, as Amy clearly wasn't wearing a bra today. Her nipples were poking against the thin cotton because of the effect my charm was having. Well, that was the reason in my fantasy world. In reality, it was most likely a consequence of the cool April breeze on her chest. The contrast in behaviour between mother and daughter was obvious. Pauline only infrequently contributed to the conversation, whereas Amy appeared willing to impart information without prompting. We chatted effortlessly almost half an hour, Amy talking enthusiastically about her course and her 'project', as she described the cultivation that was taking place in front of me. Mercifully, she didn't mention or question why I'd been staring at them from my upstairs window. Reluctantly, with the excuse that I had lots of work for me to catch up on, I disappeared back into the house. But I hoped to see a lot more of Amy. It was not until a couple of days later that our paths crossed again, when I was carrying out some rubbish to the bins by the side of my house. I was quite happy to chuck it all into the main bin and send it off to become landfill, as I couldn't be bothered to separate it. 'Shouldn't you be recycling that?' Amy yelled, startling me. 'Oh, Amy...hello... I didn't see you there. Yes, I suppose I should really, but it's a bit too much effort to sort.' That was probably the wrong thing to say to someone like Amy. Without waiting for an invitation, she walked up to the fence and leapt over it, galvanised into action by my comment. Now stood beside me, I couldn't help noticing how good she looked in her white t-shirt, its neck line deeply scalloped. It was tucked into dark green combats that appeared to be a couple of sizes too big for Amy. A thick black belt cinched them in at the waist, obviously holding them up, while the bottoms of the legs were tucked roughly into those ever-present boots. I wondered if she owned any other shoes. 'Let me do it for you,' she said. It was a statement, not a question, and she wasted no time in marshalling the various recycling containers around her. I watched as the various bits of paper, glass and plastics were distributed into them. 'Thanks Amy,' I said, smiling at her, but feeling totally pathetic for having her do such a basic task for me. 'Well, there's a favour you can do for me in return, if you want,' she said, smiling and making a play of batting her eyelashes at me. Amy explained that she was on her own, as both her parents were at work. She had to shovel a load of compost - nice and organic, of course - from the far corner of the garden to the area where she was working today. Amy did her best to convince me that it was a two-person job. I was reluctant, not only because of a looming deadline, but also because I'd glanced across the fence and seen the massive pile that needed shifting. But her insistent pleading managed to make me feel that letting her do it alone would be mean. Anyway, spending some time with her in return for a little manual labour seemed a fair exchange. After quickly returning indoors to change into some old jeans and a sweatshirt, I joined Amy in her garden. She handed me a spade, and we began to tackle the heap, both of us lumping it into a barrow before I got to push it across the rough ground to where it was needed. Amy's work rate was relentless, and it was good to watch her. I discreetly tried to time my shovelling so that as I straightened up, she would be bent down. That allowed me a glimpse straight down that t-shirt to her cleavage, her breasts jiggling in her bra each time her spade dug into the compost. But I had to be very careful - there was no way I wanted her to catch me doing it. However, I was conscious that we were occasionally exchanging glances and smiles. Did that mean she liked me, or did it just mean that once again her charms had been used to get some fool to help her out? After what seemed like hours - not the fifteen minutes Amy had promised our task would take - we finally finished. Unused to such effort, my entire body ached, and my shoulders, upper arms and back all felt as if they were about to seize. I tried to straighten up, attempting to stretch out my exhausted limbs. To my embarrassment, Amy noticed. 'Are you OK?,' she asked, clearly trying to stifle a giggle as her hand covered her mouth. 'Yes, I'm fine, honestly... although wouldn't it have been easier to move the vegetable patch over to the compost?' 'You spend too much time sitting at that desk of yours, not making a move,' she replied. What on earth did that mean? I hadn't mentioned my home office to her. Had her mother spoken about it, or was Amy referring to when she'd caught me watching? And the part about not making a move - how many different ways could that be interpreted? Not making a move on Pauline? Or Amy? Or just being a sedentary slob? Confused by what she'd said, all I could do was force a half smile in response. We stood there in silence for a moment. It was Amy that broke it. 'I know what'll sort you out,' she said, as she twirled the handle of her spade around in her hands. 'What's that, Amy?' 'You need a massage - I'm really good, honestly. A friend at college taught me. Just the thing for sore muscles.' I pondered her offer. Did she mean a strictly therapeutic massage, or was she playing me with another vague meaning? 'I think I'll be fine, thanks Amy... a soak in a hot bath should see me right.' 'Oh go on, I won't hurt you, I promise,' she whined, trying her best to look hurt at my refusal of her offer. Amy once again set about convincing me to do something. This time, she used the killer combination of surly scowls, smiles and pleading. Against my better judgement, and still confused about the situation, moments later I found myself inside the hallway of the Gowers' house. It wasn't having her hands on me that I was concerned about. It was how I would react to their touch, and the potential embarrassment of becoming aroused by her. Moreover, I didn't even want to think about explaining the situation to Richard or Pauline if they came home mid-way through my therapy. 'Right, come on up, we'll do it in the spare bedroom,' Amy said, already starting to ascend the stairs. When we reached the landing, she opened a large cupboard, grabbing a blue towel from it which she thrust towards me. 'There you are, wrap yourself in this. I'll get ready while you, um, get out of your things,' she said, opening the door to what must have been the spare bedroom and motioning me to go inside. To my surprise it looked freshly decorated and was comfortably furnished with a double bed, built-in wardrobes and a dressing table that supported three large mirrors. I had presumed that this family lived frugally and without luxury. Clearly there was a clear demarcation between their inside and outside lives. The late afternoon sun was streaming in through the window. It warmed the room nicely, and the heat was appreciated as I stripped off, piling my clothes onto the bed. Only then did I realised the towel Amy had provided wasn't as substantial as I'd thought. I stood there with it wrapped around my waist, looking like a tart in a miniskirt. Vertically it didn't even cover a third of my thighs, and horizontally it barely met itself when I tried to secure it at my hip. As Amy strode in a few minutes later - without even knocking - I felt a fool standing there, my hand gripping onto the towel to prevent it slipping. My feelings of ridiculousness were confirmed by Amy's barely stifled snigger, her hand once again hurriedly trying to cover her mouth. She'd gotten changed, and was now wearing a pair of loose white shorts and a clean pale pink t-shirt. Also, for the first time ever in my experience of her, those boots had gone. In fact, she was bare-foot, her feet small and delicate. I noticed that her hair was damp and she had the glow of someone who'd just stepped out of a hot shower in preparation for what was to follow. Amy bent down, reaching under the bed. She retrieved a thick mat, dark blue and folded twice onto itself. She laid it out on the floor, directly on an area that had been warmed by the sunlight. The Gardener's Daughter My name is frank; I run my own business as a freelance gardener in England. CHAPTER 1 The phone rang and my young daughter answered it, "Dad, it's for you". It was a new job, a large house on the outskirts of town, would I go and see the owner at six o'clock. Five to six I pulled up outside the massive gates that protected the long winding drive. I had made a few inquiry's about the place, the owner was abroad most of the time and had two children, one confined to bed after a long illness, the other was at boarding school. Pulling up outside the impressive entrance I was met by the butler, leading me silently to a side entrance I was introduced to the estate manager. He explained the gardener they had had died and wanted someone to maintain the gardens, the only problem I had to live on site and work exclusively on the estate. I said I would have to think about it and would let them know the following day. I sat at home and took stock of my life. I was a single parent; my wife died giving birth to my daughter eighteen years ago, my work was drying up, and the flat we rented was in bad need of renovating. My daughter Fiona came in from swimming lessons and pecked me on the cheek, "hi pops, how was your day"? I sat and discussed the job with Fiona it was a good wage, a three bedroom house and still close to her college, we agreed to take it. I always included Fiona in all discussions just as I would have done with my wife if she were alive. Fiona was eighteen going on thirty, she was very mature for her age, and she was responsible for the running of the house. As we sat talking I noticed she was filling out nicely, her blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, framed a sweet innocent face, her eyes had that sparkle that only young girls have. She made coffee as we talked, she was about five foot, slim, she had grown out of her puppy fat and her hips were that of a young model, her breasts had started when she was ten, now they formed twin peeks that jutted out of her sweater. We went to bed after I rang the estate manager and accepted the job, I would move in on the weekend. The move went smoothly and we were ensconced in our new house, Fiona fell in love with the house, planning to organize it her way. The job went well, after two weeks I knew my way around and got on well with the other staff. college holidays came and Fiona helped me around the grounds. "Tomorrow we are working in the secret garden" I told her. This was a place that Tony the son who was ill was sat out on sunny days to get some fresh air, he had a virus when he was eleven which left him partially paralyzed, he was now nineteen. It was a nice sunny day as we moved into the secret garden, tall walls covered in ivy screened the area from the main house. Tony was sat in his wheelchair in one of the corners; a nurse sat reading a book nearby. We started to dig the flower beds, I noticed Fiona kept looking at Tony as she worked, soon we were working by the wheelchair, I talked for a while to the nurse as we drank a cup of tea. Tony looked at Fiona as she stood nearby, "DAMM," he muttered to himself," that's one hot girl" His mind was still very active but his legs and one arm was useless. He looked at Fiona who was stood next to her dad, she was wearing cut off jeans that hugged her buttocks, she had a loose fitting top that disguised the shape of her breasts, as she turned towards him he smiled and waved to her. Fiona blushed as he smiled, and waved back, he's a spunk she thought to herself. Tony called her over. "What's your name?", he asked, she answered him, he wanted to know all about her, she sat next to him and they talked for about 1/2 hour. The nurse commentated that Tony didn't have any friends and it was good to see him enjoying himself again. We carried on with our work and Tony went in for physiotherapy. Two days later I was called to the main house, the nurse had passed comment about Fiona and Tony meeting. "Would your daughter like a job for the summer helping the nurse look after Tony"? It seemed that Tony had perked up since meeting Fiona. I said I would ask Fiona. That night I asked Fiona, she blushed as I joked she had an admirer, and he would like her to keep him company. Fiona jumped at the chance and we went up to the house to let them know. The next week flew passed for Fiona, she got on very well with Tony and they were often seen as she pushed the wheel chair through the grounds. CHAPTER 2 Tony became a daily visitor to our house, Fiona would get cokes and they would watch TV or a video, She was becoming an expert at helping him out of the wheelchair and onto the settee for more comfort. One day as I was preparing tea just as they came in, Fiona put Tony's arms around her neck and pulled him up ready to swing him onto the settee, Tony suddenly kissed her on the lips, just a quick one, but enough for Fiona to blush. I saw Fiona run out to the front door, I followed. She was stood against a wall her hand on her chest, her breathing was fast, "what's up", I asked She blushed as she told me, I laughed and said it won't be the last you will get. That evening I noticed a change in Fiona, she seemed more quiet and intense, she fussed around Tony and sat close to him all night. The next day I had to work further away from the house than normal, Fiona and Tony were going on a picnic by the lake. Around lunchtime I made my way to the lake to join then for a snack, as I approached from the wood I saw them sat on the grass. Fiona was bent over Tony, I stopped, they were kissing, Fiona had Tony's head cradled and I could see that the kisses were long passionate ones. I had not thought about Fiona being involved with boys before, she didn't seem interested, but the scene I was watching obviously made me think. I went back into the woods and made a lot of noise as I approached them, they were separate now, I could see that Fiona's face was flushed and Tony had a bulge in his trousers. We ate as Fiona explained that Tony was getting the use of his other arm back slowly and the doctors thought his legs might come back also. I left after a while and made my way back to the landrover, picking up the binoculars I cautiously made my way back to the lake, they were kissing again. Hiding in the bushes I trained the binoculars on the pair, their mouths glued together, Tony started to move his hand to Fiona's breasts, she covered his hand as if to stop him but after a pause she moved her hand away leaving him access to them. Tony hand cautiously molded itself to her breast, his hand gently massaged the globe of flesh, and Fiona kissed him more passionately. Tony slowly moved his hand to her waist, lifting her T-shirt he put his hand inside, reaching for her breast again. I sat watching my daughter being fondled, I had a raging hard on, I had not thought about Fiona as a sexual thing in the past but I was watching her and I could see she was enjoying every minute of it. Suddenly the heavens opened up and the rain poured down, I ran back to the landrover and went home. Fiona came home soaked through; her T-shirt clung to her body showing me the out line of her breasts, She noticed me looking at her breasts and said, "I'm a big girl now dad" and laughed as she went to get a shower. She came down in her robe and sat on the floor by the roaring fire, I wanted to say I had seen them but didn't know how to broach the subject. She seemed very quiet as she watched the flames licked the logs, she looked at me and said," dad can I ask a question about sex"? "Of course honey, if I know the answer". "When adults have sexual urges and they don't have a boy or girlfriend how do they go on"? "They play with themselves, its called masturbation. "Do all adults do it"? "Most adults do if they don't have a sexual partner". "Do you dad? You don't have a partner". "Yes darling I do ", I answered quietly, "when I need to" "What do you think about when you do it"? This was getting very deep now, could I tell my innermost secrets to my own daughter? "Fiona some things you keep to yourself" Fiona came up to me and sat on my lap, "thanks daddy"; she lent forwards and kissed me on the lips gently. I could feel the tips of her breasts push against my chest as she cuddled into me, it had been a long time since she sat on my lap and kissed me. I felt my prick stirring as she moved on my lap, laying her head on my shoulder she whispered, "I love you dad", and kissed me again slowly. "What brought this on? I asked, "could this have anything thing to do with you and Tony by the lake today"? "What do you mean dad"? "I saw you today kissing Tony and he played with you" She sat up "Daddy were you spying on us"? I explained that I was intrigued when I saw them kissing and one thing led to another. "Daddy your hard down below", as she stood up my blood engorged prick made a tent in my trousers. "I'm sorry darling" as tears flowed from my eyes, she sat on my lap again and held me in her arms. "Don't cry daddy, I didn't think you thought of me in a sexual way". I explained seeing them together turned me on so much, that I realized how sexy she was, even though she was my daughter. She silenced me with another kiss this time it lasted a long time, her breasts bore into my chest as I clung to her. "Daddy I have a confession to make, I think of you as I play with myself, when Tony kisses me I think of you kissing me that way, when he touched me I dreamt it was your hand" We clung to each other and sat for a while silent. "I love you dad, good night"; as she reached the door she said "sweet dreams" and went to bed. CHAPTER 3 I lay in bed thinking about Fiona, she admitted she saw me as a sexual thing in her dreams, I realized I had been stimulated by her each time she kissed me, her firm breasts I had felt when she clung to me, her firm buttocks moving as she walked. That night I wanked myself thinking of my lovely daughter, I dreamt I was caressing her supple body, I came so hard and immediately felt guilty. Going to the bathroom to clean myself I heard whimpering coming from Fiona's room, I opened her door to see her spread out on the bed with her hand between her legs, and her breathing was erratic, her face was contorted and her eyes closed. She was out of control as her orgasm filled her body, "fill me daddy, fuck me daddy" she repeated as her fingers moved deep into her body. Suddenly she stopped, she had seen me watching her masturbate, my prick was jutting away from my naked body, her eyes closed and she dived under the sheets crying uncontrollably. I called her name and went to her bed, I reached out and pulled the sheets back, my naked daughter bunched in a ball. I gently placed my hand on her back and caressed the silky skin. "Fiona, look at me," she slowly turned her head, I pulled her up to my chest and held her against my naked body. I took her chin and pulled it towards my mouth, our lips met, this was to be our first kiss as lovers. I felt her body relaxes as I gathered her up into my arms, we still kissed as I carried her to my room, laying her gently on my bed. "This will be our room now darling" I said as I pulled the sheets over her, I got in beside her, she had not spoken since I had caught her masturbating. I pulled the sheets of my new lover, her breasts heaved as she realized what was happening, gently I put my hand on her breast, her body stiffened as she felt me tease the nipple to a peak. I bent down as took it into my mouth, I felt the nipples grow as I increased the pressure, my other hand slowly made its way to her belly. I felt her hand guide me to her vagina, "please daddy" was all she said, that was enough, my fingers explored her outer lips I could feel that she was wet and my finger gently separated her lips, finding her inner sanctum. Her body stiffened as I pushed my finger deep into her virginal slit, the wall clamped my finger like a vice. My mouth found her and we kissed deeply, my finger bringing her close to an orgasm. Her hand found my prick and I felt her touch my ball sac. She broke the kiss and crawled down the bed, taking my prick she moved down with her mouth, soon my prick was deep into her mouth. I felt her tongue swirl over the tip that was enough. I pulled out as I shot a wad of spunk over her belly, she dived down and caught the rest in her mouth, swallowing all of it, my finger brought her to the final stage and her body jerked as her orgasm coursed through her body. We lay quiet as our body slowly came down from high. Her hand moved slowly and encompassed my limp prick; "thank you daddy" was all she said before laying on top of me. We kissed deeply and I felt my prick rising again, Fiona opened her legs and clamped my prick so that it touched the outer lips of her pussy, she slowly moved up and down simulating a fucking motion. Gently I rolled her off and started to kiss her from head to toe, as I reached her belly I moved between her thighs, I could see the whole of her sex spread out before me. My lips reached their goal, flicking my tongue around her lips she clasped my head against her pussy not wanting to lose that warm feeling spreading throughout her sex. My tongue split her lips and entered her vagina, her juices poured out and I lapped them up, her legs spread wider as I delved deeper into her cave. Soon I had her clit within reach, sucking it deep into my mouth; she gasped and clamped her legs in a vice like grip around my head. She screamed as another orgasm shook her body. My finger entered again and as I moved around I felt her hymen blocking her womb from me. "Daddy my darling daddy please make love to me " she gasped. I moved up and lined my prick up to her virgin pussy, "slowly daddy please", I kissed her as I slowly entered her, her lips parted to encompass the head of my prick, she gasped as the thickness moved slowly in. "YES OH YES DADDY FUCK ME", she screamed as I pushed further into her soaked cave, her hips moved in time with mine, soon I reached her maidenhead, she was panting as I moved once more forward to break her in. She groaned as I broke the last trace of her virginity, but gasped as I slid the full length deep into her, I could feel the entrance to her womb on the tip of my prick as we moved in unison to achieve a perfect union. Her arms and legs trapped my body in a grip to stop me from separating from her. I could feel my sperm travelling on its way to my darling daughter's womb, my hip thrust faster as I reached the point of no return. We kissed passionately as my sperm shot deep into her receptive womb, spurt after spurt filled her until it seeped from the sides as her hips rose faster and faster as she reached her first penetration orgasm. We fell into a deep sleep still connected our juices mingled with a small amount of blood, proof of my Fiona's taken virginity. We woke early, my prick had a piss hardon and I needed to take a leak, as I move to withdraw from my daughters pussy I felt her legs trap me. "Give me a good morning kiss first", she said, my mouth found hers and we kissed slowly, our tongues swirled deep into every recess. I pulled away, my prick withdrawing from its warm cave, our juices had leaked out during the night and made a wet patch on the sheets. We bathed separately and had a quiet breakfast; Fiona seemed shy again since we had got dressed. "Dad, did you mind what we did last night"? "My darling how could I mind making love to the one girl in my life, no, I was afraid you would have misgivings about what we did". "What about Tony? do you still intend to let him touch you like yesterday"? She blushed at the mention of his name, "I was hopping that now I'm not a virgin we might go a bit further" "Only if I can watch" I joked. "Not in the same room dad", she replied, with a gasp. My god she doesn't mind me watching, I thought I'd try one more time," maybe we could have a threesome"? "Dad, Tony might not like that" My god, my daughter is sex mad. I reached out and pulled my daughter into my arms, we kissed and talked how the best way to get Tony into her nickers, I said I would bring the video camera and hide it on the bookshelf so that I could see her progress with Tony. It took about an hour to set up the camera, Fiona said we should take positions so that we could check the angles, I sat down and Fiona unzipped my jeans and pulled my prick out and started to suck. Soon she had a mouth full of sperm trickling down her throat. As we looked at the footage we shot, Fiona still blushed, her hand teased her pussy lips as I shot my load into her mouth, I told her to save it for Tony and the camera. She jumped up and said she was going for Tony right now CHAPTER 4 As Fiona walked to the big house she thought about the previous night with her father, she had no intentions of revealing her love for her father, but one thing led to another and now they were lovers and she was glad. She wondered how Tony would act today, with his kisses and caresses yesterday that turned her on so much. Tony was out of bed sat in his wheelchair brushing his teeth at the sink. He only had a pair of boxer shorts on, when n he heard the door open and saw Fiona he rinsed his mouth and turned to her. "Caught me with my trousers down nurse" he said, Fiona looked at his lap, his penis was half-hard in the confines of his shorts, she could see the outline of his prick. "I see your pleased to see me" she laughed and kissed him, his hand went to her breast as her drew her onto the bed next to his wheelchair. Undoing her blouse he was glad to see she had no bra on, her nipples stood proud as his fingers tweaked the thickening tips. Fiona pulled away breathless, "Tony someone might come in". "Come into my surgery", he said, and moved into a room attached to his bedroom, This had a hoist and a long bench for his physiotherapy. No one except the nurse was allowed into this room, he got Fiona to sit in the hoist he pushed the button to raise it, stopping when it reached the same height as his wheelchair he moved closer to Fiona. undoing her blouse he saw for the first time both her breasts exposed, slowly he removed it completely, Fiona let him caress her breasts as she moved forward to kiss him, their mouths met and they both explored each other's mouth. Pressing the button again until Fiona was the same height as his lap he pulled the sides off his wheelchair off. Moving forward he moved Fiona's legs apart and moved so that she was sitting on his lap, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her nipple into his mouth, Fiona gasped as she felt the heat of his mouth engulf her nipple, pulling his head closer she warmed to the caresses his tongue was giving her breasts. Tony's hands caressed her buttocks, she could feel his hands lift her skirt up and rub her thighs, her pussy tingled as she knew what he intended to do. Tony let his fingers roam around her panty line, slowly he made his way to the front, his fingers caressed her mons as he felt her legs open to allow his fingers entry. Pushing the button once more Fiona felt her body being raised to his head level, slowly Tony grasped her panties at the side and started to pull them down, Fiona pulled up slightly to aid him, soon they were off. Undoing the buttons to her skirt he removed it, she was now naked, he saw her pussy glistening in the light. Fiona was exposed to his eyes, her body tingling with sexual need, she saw him move his head forwards, his mouth found her pussy, the electrical contact of his lips was enough to send her body into her first climax. Her pouty lips open to his exploring tongue lapped at the juices that poured from her spasming vagina, his finger separated her lips exposing her quivering clitoris, he clasped it between his lips and sucked at the turgid finger of flesh. Soon her body was a mass of quivering flesh; her mind was blank as orgasm after orgasm swept her body. The Gardeners 'OK, lie down on your stomach, please' she ordered me, watching as I kneeled down then struggled to get prone, concerned about preserving my dignity with that pathetic towel. 'Don't look so worried... this shouldn't hurt too much. So just relax.' I forced a laugh at her attempt at a joke as I eventually lay down, still unsure about what I'd let myself in for. I placed my forearms beneath my head, using them as a makeshift pillow to bury my face in. A loud gasp then escaped my lips as I suddenly felt a shock of cold hit my back. 'Oops, sorry,' Amy said, 'that was the oil... I'm always forgetting to apply it to my fingers first, not directly... too cold otherwise.' I mumbled an acceptance to her apology, feeling daft for having made such a fuss. Then her hands were flat against the small of my back. Amy started to apply gentle pressure as she pushed them upwards to my neck, circling them around my shoulder blades before they returned the starting point. She repeated those circuits several times and, to my amazement, she was good, applying just enough pressure so that my tightness and stiffness dissolving at her touch. Next, she used the heels of her hands, applying slightly more force. Again starting at the base of my back, she made small circles, all the time spiralling slowly upwards either side of my spine, pushing hard against my tired muscles. 'That feels so relaxing Amy, you're good at this,' I murmured. 'I think you've got some knots across the tops of your shoulders though,' she replied, her thumbs immediately seeking them out, pressing down with a force that felt painful at first, but which miraculously eased away the tension after just a few minutes. Her hands left me momentarily, and I was surprised to next feel them against the back of my right thigh. 'Legs now,' Amy said quietly, almost in a whisper. Perhaps it was part of her technique to use her voice to help create an atmosphere of total relaxation? I could feel her hands against my skin, using smooth rhythmic strokes similar to those my back had experienced. A very fatigued hamstring reacted well to her touch, but I was conscious that in her movement, she was also easing my legs apart to stretch her fingers down either side of my leg. There could be no doubt that, with only that inadequate towel covering me, Amy would by now be enjoying a view of my balls, and probably most of my penis too. In my relaxed state, I almost didn't care about what she could or couldn't see. But, worryingly, I had become aware that the effects of her hands against my skin, her whispering voice, and the knowledge that she was looking at me, were all causing me to become aroused. Amy didn't say or do anything in reaction to my growing problem. Her hands just transferred across to my left leg when she had finished on the first, and the process was repeated. Maybe she was too polite, or embarrassed, or shocked, or even used to it? But then she gave my towel-covered arse a quick, playful tap. 'Right, time to turn over now.' Hadn't she noticed? I was getting a hard-on and she wanted to me roll over. I was frozen with dread as to how she would react. The only scenario playing in my mind was that Amy would jump up, scream and run from the room in horror when she realised what she was dealing with. 'Come on, turn over,' she persisted. 'But, er, Amy, I think I feel much better now. Thanks for the massage, but I've got work and calls to make and...' 'Don't be silly,' she interrupted. I looked back over my shoulder at her, as she knelt beside me with folded arms, her eyebrows raised expectantly at me. This was a stand-off. Perhaps if I left it long enough, my predicament would disappear of its own accord. But it was only getting worse, I could still feel the blood pumping as part of my brain obsessed with the thrill of being naked in front of Amy. It was a battle of wills I was evidently going to lose. 'Alright Amy, if you're sure. You might regret this though.' Slowly, I rolled over. My arousal was going to be obvious beneath the towel. Or that would have been the case had the bloody thing not got snagged as I manoeuvred myself onto my back, fully exposing myself to her instead. She's going to reckon that happened on purpose, I thought, as my face turned deep crimson. 'Oh,' was the only thing she uttered. We both remained motionless, both staring at my prominent erection, but only because it avoided having to look at each other's faces. After what seemed like minutes, but was probably only seconds, Amy calmly unfolded her arms and, with her eyes still avoiding mine, reached her left hand out and grasped my penis with it. Her grip wasn't that tight, but her hands were warm and still slick with the massage oil. That lubrication became useful as her hand began to slide slowly up and down my shaft. Swallowing hard, I tried not to let out a moan as she proceeded to lean forward, her mouth just inches from me. With her hand still gripping me, her tongue emerged from between those lovely lips and started to flick. But that was just the introduction. She took me inside her mouth, her lips forming a tight seal around me as her head began to bob up and down. It was slow at first, but she soon got faster, taking me to the back of her throat as her saliva dribbled down onto my pubis. In all honesty, I could have ejaculated right there and then. 'You're a bit overdressed, aren't you Amy?' I said, more as a stalling tactic than wanting her to get undressed. She released me from the clutch of her mouth, then straightened up a little to pull her t-shirt over her head in an easy, fluid movement. Her breasts were beautiful, her nipples such a pale pink the areolae almost blended into the surrounding skin. I reached my hand forward, gently letting my fingers skim against the nearest one, pleased to feel its stiffness increase instantly at my touch. Amy now looked at me, her lips still hinting at a smile. Without warning, she stood up, and my hand fell away from her chest. I feared she'd suddenly realised this was all a terrible mistake, a harmless flirt that had somehow morphed into something else. My concerns were laid to rest straight away though. Placing her hands on the waistband of her shorts, she swiftly undid the button and zipper that secured them. I watched her slim hips wriggle as the shorts were tugged down over them. As they fell to the floor, she revealed that she hadn't been wearing any underwear at all since she got changed. Amy stood naked and motionless, staring at me with her head bowed, her chin almost touching her chest, allowing me a moment to take in her body. Her hands were clasped loosely together in front of a patch of dark, neatly trimmed pubic hair. I wanted to say something to her, tell her how incredible she looked, but my mouth had gone dry and the capacity to speak had deserted me. But it was one of those rare moments when talking wasn't required. Our eyes now fixed on each other, Amy lifted her left foot over me, so that she was stood facing me, immediately above my hips. As she began to bend her knees into a squat, my hands moved onto her legs and I started to slowly stroke the outsides of those soft thighs. With her arse now hovering just inches above me, she reached beneath it to take my penis, lifting it up and guiding it towards her. Using her hand, she moved it back and forth, letting the tip just skim against her lips. But that self-inflicted teasing didn't last long. Obviously not willing to wait any longer, Amy held me steady while she slowly lowered herself down. My eyes were closed; I wanted to concentrate purely on the sensation of feeling myself enter her without distraction from my other senses. As her hips commenced an up and down rhythm, I opened my eyes to see her hand release my penis. But her fingers didn't move far away, as she now used them to rub tiny circles around her clitoris. I hoped that the feel of me inside her was solely responsible for her increasingly rapid breathing and ever-louder moans. But her fingers, by now rubbing against herself with a growing ferocity, were doubtless also to blame. Nevertheless, her warmth, her moistness, the way she tensed and relaxed her muscles around me were all wonderful. I knew I wasn't going to last long, despite any effort by me to delay the inevitable. I began to jerk my hips upwards into her, my hands now gripping her hips. It wasn't comfortable with just that hard mat to cushion me against the wooden floor, but I didn't care. My breathing was getting heavier, and I could feel a sheen of sweat appearing on my forehead. 'Tell me when you're going to finish,' Amy managed to gasp between moans. 'Are you close?' I puffed. She just gave three rapid nods of her head, biting onto her lower lip as I watched her bouncing on me. Would she jump off at the crucial moment, or let me finish inside her? I could sense she too was on the verge of her orgasm, and I knew mine was swiftly approaching. 'Amy, I'm going to cum,' I grunted, looking up at her. 'OK... together... let's go together,' she blurted out. Almost immediately, her motion stopped. I could feel the spasms beginning to course through her body as she collapsed forward, her body weight falling onto her hands as they landed on the mat either side of my head. With one last thrust from my hips, in fantastic synchronisation, I let out a cry as I shot up inside her. We stayed there, our bodies linked and motionless, just wanting to savour the moment. 'Not all of my massages finish like that,' Amy laughed, breathless. 'My bad back's a recurring condition, it may need regular treatment,' I smiled back. Amy slowly climbed off, and she sat on the floor with her back resting against the bed, looking across at me. 'I think it's late, they'll be back soon,' she said. Clearly referring to her parents, the hint was obvious. So, after we had retrieved our clothes, I slipped out of her house by the back door. A business trip meant it was a couple of days before I was again installed at my home office desk, keeping an eager eye on the Gowers' garden. It remained empty all morning, but eventually somebody appeared. Frustratingly, it was the unmistakeable figure of Pauline that I watched preparing to begin her work. It was strange. I'd had initial feelings of attraction towards Pauline, but had then felt bad about them because she was married. Now I felt a small pang of guilt that she was no longer the one I was interested in. But where was Amy? I left it a while, thinking she would appear. Eventually, I had to go down to find out where she was. Pauline and I chatted as if nothing was any different between us which, as far as she was hopefully concerned, it wasn't. 'So, where's Amy today?' I nonchalantly dropped into the conversation. 'Oh, we took her back to college yesterday, didn't she tell you her new semester was starting?' I dumbly shook my head. How had Amy neglected to tell me that? Maybe she and her mother were more similar than I'd been lead to believe, after all. 'Yes,' Pauline continued, 'not home for ten weeks... but she said you were great.' 'Eh?' I replied, shocked. 'She told me you were a great help in the garden. Maybe one day you'll help me?' she said with a wink. With yet another ambiguous statement from one of the Gower women for me to decipher, I made my excuses and returned indoors.