3 comments/ 36057 views/ 25 favorites The Taming of Mr. Parson By: shy_geek Melinda was my first girlfriend, and I got her pregnant the night of our Junior Prom. It was a mistake, but not as bad as the mistake I made when I proposed to her after she told me the news. I was determined to "do the right thing," but I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Melinda and I had a baby girl 9 months later, we named her Sarah. Melinda and I married as soon as we were 17 and we could wrangle parental consent, we were both seniors in high school at this point, and the period of my life to follow would prove to be the most grueling period of my life. Melinda and I were both high-performing students, which meant we needed time to go to school, and time to study. We were married now, we felt the need to have our own place, so we needed jobs. On top of all this, we needed to take care of Sarah, and we needed to sleep. We ended up staggering our schedules so that one of us could work/ take care of Sarah/study, while the other slept. It was difficult, especially at first, but with lots of help from our parents we both managed to graduate highschool, and then complete four years of college. So there we were, the Parson family, Husband, wife, and baby. Melinda and I were both 22, Sarah was 5. Our reward for our hard work was college degrees and a spouse that we barely knew because we had mostly been up when the other person was asleep. We told ourselves that we could put that time behind us, that now that we were out of school, everything would be easier. How wrong we were. Now we were seeking work in the professional world and our schedules were synced up again. We began trying to spend time together as a family, get jobs, and do the normal atomic family thing. This is when I first began to truly appreciate that I hated my wife Melinda. I went to work as a Bookkeeper for a local utility company, work that I found soul-sucking and demeaning. Melinda found work as an assistant/secretary at a tech firm, which was a waste of her college degree. Neither of us were happy and we both tended to work long hours rather than race home and face each other. When we were home together, we fought about everything. We fought about money, we fought about time, we fought about who had used the bread last. In the begging, we both wanted to make our relationship work because we thought it would be better for Sarah to have two parents and a "normal" family, but the longer we tried to force our marriage to work, the clearer it became that it was better for Sarah to not grow up in a war zone. Our marriage was over in all but name when Melinda revealed that she was sleeping with someone from her office. I pushed for a divorce, because that seemed to be as good a reason for a divorce as any, but honestly by then I didn't really care that Melinda was cheating. I was sick of her, sick of the murderous grind my life had become, and sick of everything but Sarah. Melinda was a rabid bitch who poisoned everything around her and sucked joy from my life for fun, but I suppose I must have been at least as hurtful and spiteful as she was, even if I didn't remember it that way. It still hurt when she moved out, mostly because she took Sarah. Eventually our divorce finalized. Melinda pushed for everything. She wanted Sarah, the savings, the wedding presents, alimony, the works. Melinda especially pushed for the house as it had originally been her grandmother's, but since she had cheated on me and I didn't push on anything else but the house and Sarah, she didn't really have much to stand on. So I kept the house and got partial custody of Sarah, and was even able to avoid alimony. I go to see my daughter 14 weekends a year, plus a week near Christmas, and 6 weeks of Summer. My school debt had mostly been paid by my parents, so when we split and Melinda took her student loans with her, I actually made a little money, even though Melinda took our savings, just because I didn't have to pay that debt anymore. There I was; a bachelor again at age 25. I was broke, but I was mostly clear of debt, and I sensed that this was going to be my one chance to change my life, so I took it. I quit my job, sold almost everything I owned, took out a small business loan, and started my own bookkeeping firm. I have always been good with numbers and I am naturally likeable, so I ended up picking up clients fairly easily. The work came easy and I did pretty well for a small run-from-home business. Most importantly to my mental-health, I became my own boss, set my own hours, and was finally able to let go of a big part of my life's frustrations. I wasn't happy exactly, but I was free. -- So that is the story of how getting my girlfriend pregnant at 16 ruined my life, and how I got through it. Now let me tell you about how getting my girlfriend pregnant at 16 is the best thing I have ever done. -- My daughter's name is Sara, and she is AWSOME. She is smart, beautiful, playful, and has a heart full of love and joy. It has been my privilege to watch her grow and blossom. As a baby, people would always tell us that Sarah should be in commercials. She smiled at everybody, barely ever cried. I swear even her diapers were cleaner than other kid's diapers. She was the best baby in the world. As a toddler, she was even better. She picked up on "Sssh! Mommy is sleeping!" extremely quickly. Even at this young age, Sarah was inventive. She made toddler games genuinely fun to play, and her sense of wonder at each new thing was infectious. It helped that she was cute as a button. My heart ached every time she curled up with me as I read her those books with the cardboard pages. As a young child, Sarah witnessed the end of her parent's marriage. She handled it well, but she had some understandable stress as a result of Melinda and I organizing our separation and dealing with having her parents around less as we worked on finding a schedule that would work. Melinda may be a psychotic, poisonous bitch, but she is a good mother, and both of us worked very hard to be amiable to each other in front of Sarah, and in regards to all things that directly affected her. Nonetheless, in the early years before things got settled, I missed Sarah terribly when I had to be away from her, and during the times that she stayed with me, I shared her with her best friend Bree. Melinda and Bree's mother met at a new parent class. It turned out that not only were our two families practically neighbors, but Sarah and Bree had been born on the same day in different hospitals. This coincidence was enough for Melinda and Bree's mother to strike up friendship, and it was only natural to set up play-dates between the girls. From that point on, Sarah and Bree were inseparable. Even when Melinda and Bree's mother stopped being friends, the girls remained as close as sisters. When Melinda and Sarah moved out Bree was nearly as devastated as I was, and Sarah was probably more upset at not seeing Bree as often as she was upset about seeing me less often. When Sarah visited me, Sarah always pestered me and Bree always pestered her parents until they let her come and visit, and they threw fits when it was time for Bree to leave. This went on long enough, and the girls were stubborn enough about maintaining their close relationship, that eventually it was just easier for Bree's parents and me to come to an agreement. When Sarah was at my house, Bree came along as well and they had sleep-overs. Even at that early age, Bree was the kind of girl who got what she wanted. I suppose most parents would have minded the intrusion into their time with their daughter. I know Bree's parents were worried that she would outstay her welcome, but I didn't mind. Bree was a sweet kid when she got what she wanted, and any jealousy I might have felt towards Sarah's best friend taking up her time was quickly mitigated by the fact that Bree helped stabilize Sarah's world immensely during the turbulent period of divorce. My daughter's happiness and stability was worth far more than the inconvenience of watching two little girls instead of one. To be perfectly honest, it also helped my mood that Sarah loved Bree like a sister, and Bree was close to my house and not Melinda's. It was just something that gave an extra thrill to going to see Daddy that Mommy couldn't match. Petty I know, but it worked for me. -- And so the years passed. My bookkeeping firm did very well and I was soon able to take on some help and some extra clients. My people all worked from their own homes like I did, so I managed to keep my relatively free lifestyle. I converted the extra third room into a gym after I offered it to Bree and she turned it down. I spent all my non-Sarah time either in the gym working out, or in my Den/Office working on my Client's books. I didn't get out much. Fatherhood became the center of my life. I had my visitations of course, but I made it a point to show up frequently at my Ex-Wife's house, both because I loved seeing my daughter, and because it annoyed the hell out of Melinda. My work-from-home-as-my-own-boss schedule meant I could make it a point to always be there for Sarah's science fairs and school plays, and I reveled in doing the Father-Daughter things, like taking her to the park, or out for ice cream, or movies. I even let Melinda come from time to time. On the personal side of my life... well I watched a lot of pornography. Too much maybe. My lifestyle did not lead to me getting out much. My constant regimen of exercise and my natural frugal eating habits meant that I was not unattractive, but I found it difficult to put myself out there. I did go out with a few girls, but nothing was ever serious. I slept with Melinda a few times too, not that I am proud of that. I had maybe a handful of sexual encounters over 12 years. It was a lonely life, but I was focused on my business and my daughter, and I kept myself busy at my home gym, so I didn't even notice how unhappy I had become. -- 2007. Bree and Sarah's 18th birthday extravaganza. Both Bree and Sarah invited their friends from both of their schools. There was cake, and music, and presents, and even boys. The boys were a bit of a shock to me. Sarah and I were close, and she had confided in me about her crushes on certain boys, but this was the first time I was with her around boys. I immediately felt protective, which is probably understandable given the predicament I had been in at her age, but not acceptable for a father of an 18 year old girl, so I got myself under control. "Sarah isn't a little girl anymore," I told myself. "She is a young woman. She is smart, and wise, and I trust her." I almost believed myself, but I still kept my eye on the little bastards. I think I did pretty well, and managed to not intimidate too many of them too obviously. That night marked the beginning of one of our weekends. So we cleaned up the wrapping paper, kicked out the teenagers, and put the rest of the cake in the Fridge. I declared that the dishes could wait until Saturday, and Sarah made a joke about dirty bachelors. We popped in the video the girls had picked, and the girls curled up on the couch, and I took my chair as usual. This was normally the most peaceful time of our evenings together, but tonight Sarah and Bree were distracted. They kept whispering to each other, and giving each other meaningful looks. Thinking back, I realized that it had been going on all day, but I only really noticed it when the air of tension intruded on our peaceful time. Still, they obviously did not want my input, so I ignored them and tried to enjoy the rest of the movie. The argument continued, if that was what it was, all weekend. After Bree went home and Sarah was packing up to go back to her mother's I asked her about it. "Oh it's nothing. Just a guy she likes but can't have." Sarah answered breezily. I thought this strange because, to my knowledge, Bree had always been the least boy-crazy girl in Sarah's friend group. I seem to remember that she had actually been attacked by a boy wielding a knife when she was twelve, and she had been painfully shy around boys since. I could have pressed, but I knew that look on Sarah's face. It said "None of your business. Drop it." I am not saying that I couldn't have overridden her, I am her father after all, but that was the exact same look Melinda got, and I hated seeing it on my daughter's face. I decided that if it wasn't important, better to just drop it. I knew both Bree and Sarah knew about the birds and bees, and the importance of condoms, so the less I knew... The next month, I had two weekends with Bree and Sarah. For the most part they were their normal selves, but there were definite periods of tension between them. I tried to stay out of it, but the periods of hostile silence and scathing looks were difficult to ignore. After those two weekends, the next time we would be together was the long summer visitation. Little did I know that The Girl's silent argument would soon come to a head and I would not be able to escape it any longer. -- Sarah has had a teddy bear since she was a baby. Melinda and I named the bear Teddy Roosevelt as a joke. Of course, as a toddler "Roosevelt" was hard for Sarah to say, so the bear became Teddy Rose-Felt. Sarah and I had a running game that we played since she started to get old enough to not sleep with her stuffed animals. I would sneak Teddy into her bed occasionally, and Sara would wake up and exclaim "Teddy? How did you get here!?" It's a little sappy, but it was our tradition, and it never failed to crack us up. The first night of Long Summer Visit, Bree and Sarah were tense as ever. Whatever was bothering them, it had obviously not gotten resolved, and I decided it was time for President Teddy Rose-Felt to lighten the mood. That night, I crept into Bree and Sarah's room. They always slept in the same queen-size bed, with Sara right side up, and Bree flipped around to the foot of the bed. Bree must have left to use the bathroom, because Sarah was there alone. I snuck up to edge of the bed, pulled the covers down a bit, and snuggled Teddy in right at Sarah's neck. I pulled the covers back up and tucked them in tight. I was very pleased with myself. I may have even cackled a little bit. I turned around, and there was Bree. She was wearing a night tee that left most of her legs uncovered, and with the hall light behind her, I could clearly see her silhouette through the thin material. It struck me like a lightning bolt that this girl, who was like a sister to my daughter, was a young woman now and a beautiful one at that. Something about her standing there resonated with me in a way I was not comfortable with. Her silhouette made her seem naked, and the shadow made her seem anonymous. I was turned on in a fundamental way by the sight, something I was not at all comfortable with. Suddenly the game with Teddy Rose-Felt didn't feel like such a good idea. I forced my thoughts away, and put on a big, goofy grin. I looked back at Teddy significantly then back to Bree. I then put my finger to my lips in a "SSSHH" gesture. I made to move around Bree and out the door, but Bree didn't move, and so I ended up brushing close to her, trying to squeeze past. She halted me with a hand on my forearm, and when I looked at her quizzically, she reached up and kissed me. Her lips were soft and dry and sweet. She chastely kept her lips closed, but she pressed her body against mine. Her hands rubbed up my chest, around my pecs, and down my back, drawing me in tighter. I was acutely aware of my rock hard erection pressed into her stomach. With her arms up, her night shirt had ridden higher. My hands were on her hips, with my finger tips just below the hem of the shirt, brushing the bare skin of her legs. I felt my blood coursing in my veins, and my head rang with shock, not really thinking, I started to return the kiss, but I caught myself in time and I struggled to keep it chaste. I was bombarded by emotions and impulses. I felt like my head was ringing, and I struggled to be rational. This was totally unexpected. I am not sure how long I stood there in shock, but it seems like one moment she was there, and the next she was curled up below her blanket next to my daughter. "Goodnight" she whispered. I found myself back in my room. I could still taste her on my lips. My finger tips still burned with the warmth of her thighs. I could still feel her firm body, pressed against me. I shook my head. I had to get thoughts of her like this out of my head. She was literally young enough to be my daughter, and I was expected to be taking care of her. Not kissing her... or anything else. I got undressed and crawled into bed. Despite being June, my bed seemed much colder than normal. -- The next morning, I woke up and told myself that it had all been a dream. I groaned, pulled on my robe and approached the kitchen with a certain amount of trepidation. When I walked in, my daughter was glaring at her friend, who was, thankfully, wearing pajama pants. Bree, in contrast to Sarah's foul demeanor, seemed her chipper old self. She stood at the stove listening to the iPod she had gotten for her birthday, swaying in time to the music. The pajama pants and thin night tee she was wearing combined with the way she was moving and made her ass an outstanding sight. I had to stop thinking about her like this. Sarah was scowling at me now, so I gave her my best "What did I do?" face. She muttered something about checking for the paper and left the kitchen. Bree turned her head and caught me peeking at her ass. I realized that my gaze had swiveled back and was staring at it again. Her green eyes glittered knowingly, and her soft lips quirked up at one corner in a grin that made me wish she would kiss me again, or if last night had been real and not a dream. I had to stop thinking about her this way. "Eggs?" she offered, completely innocent. If I ignored her eyes, I could convince myself that it had all been a dream. It had to have been a dream. Of course when I ignored her eyes, my gaze was drawn to the way her thin night tee was drawn tight across her breasts, or the way it was pulled down on one side, showing her long, slender neck and a smooth slope of her shoulder, or the way she had the cutest butt I had seen in a long time. "No thanks, I'm just going to have cereal." I had to stop thinking about her this way. I hadn't thought of her this way before, had I? No. It was just a dream. I got my cereal and sat down at the table. Bree finished scrambling her eggs and dished them up, then sat down kitty-corner from me. I was concentrating on my cereal and thinking about how her eggs smelled more appealing than my cereal when her foot shattered my concentration. Her toes started at my heel and drifted up, lightly stroking my calf in a very intimate way. I gaped at her, shocked, but she seemed to be ignoring me. Apparently it hadn't been a dream. I determined right there that this had to stop, it was not appropriate. I actually opened my mouth to say so, when Sarah walked back in with the paper. I went back to my cereal. I couldn't embarrass Bree, could I? I tried to subtly shift my leg, but I couldn't move it far enough away without being obvious. Bree's toes were well up my leg now, almost to my knee. "Hey Dad, they have an article in the paper about the Zoo. Apparently one of the elephants just gave birth. Can we go see?" Sarah was looking at the paper, not at her friend. "Um..." I managed while Bree's toes managed to flip my robe back further. I realized that I had not actually eaten any of my cereal. "Yea Mr. P! Can we go see the baby?" Bree was innocence itself, even as her toes softly massaged my thigh beneath the table. "Yes! Yes. Let me just... I will just go get changed." I stood up and tried to casually leave the kitchen without revealing my aroused state. The Taming of Mr. Parson I had to stop thinking of her like this, and I would, just as soon as I found a way to discourage her without letting her down too harshly. -- The zoo was crowded of course, and the baby elephant was adorable. We walked all around and peeked at the various highlights. Lions, Tigers, Bears, oh my. Bree was chipper and eventually Sarah succumbed to her good humor as well, and soon they were carrying like the best friends they had always been. After a few hours, I pleaded old age and decided to sit on a bench while the girls went to check out the sea animals on their own. I had been doing pretty well at putting the startling events of last night and this morning out of my mind, but I still found myself checking out Bree's ass as they walked away. As I sat there I brooded a bit. Bree's behavior was out of character for her, but more worrisome to me was my reaction to it. I had already decided to put an end to it as soon as I could talk to Bree privately, but sitting there alone I could admit to myself that I was kind of flattered by her attention. It was impossible of course, nothing could possibly happen, but it did feel good to be found attractive. I had not felt that way in a long time. Still, for Bree to have a crush on me was endearing, but for me to be attracted back was unacceptable. It made me feel like a dirty old man and was at odds with my self-image. I suppose part of it was a sense of loneliness. I looked around and saw everyone was paired up; girlfriends and boyfriends, husbands and wives. Hell, even the animals we were here to see had mates. It had been so long since someone found me attractive, I suppose it really shined a spot light on the emptiness I felt. Part of it was my lack of experience with romantic entanglements. I had married my first girlfriend, and when that ended badly I hadn't rallied and tried again. There had been a few dates, but I had basically been living the life of a celibate for the last 12 years. Not that this was any excuse. If I was attracted to Bree, then something must be wrong with me. Or was it? Was it normal or abnormal to be attracted to a young, hot, and apparently willing 18 year old girl? I knew that the best way to deal with the current Bree situation and my overall loneliness was to let Bree down gently and then go find a woman my own age to fall in love with. I knew that, but I hesitated because I also knew that most likely I was going to try to let Bree down gently, muck it up and hurt her feelings. Still, I was determined to do the best I could and then go back to my hermitage and distract myself with work until the emptiness I felt was numb again. Either-way I needed to stop brooding before I started crying in public and became a total woman. I stood up, preparing to go looking for the girls, when I caught sight of them across the square. I registered their facial expressions just for a moment. Bree was looking at me with empathetic sadness, and Sarah had an unreadable expression. As soon as they saw me looking, they both acted chipper and they started walking towards me as if they had never stopped, but I knew they had been there watching me. For how long, and what had my face looked like to make them react like that? -- The rest of the afternoon passed uneventfully. The girls seemed to have resolved their argument and to all outward appearances, everything was normal. The girls chatted with each other and bantered with me, and it was a lovely afternoon at the zoo. There was however an underlying tension. I sensed that all three of our relationships had shifted slightly, and I cast about for a way to shift them back. I desperately wanted everything back to the way it had been. We got dinner at a family restaurant that Bree liked, and then headed home. Once there the girls went off together to listen to music and hang out, while I puttered around my home office. I kept looking for an opportunity to chat privately with Bree, but somehow I never managed it that evening. Finally I decided to head to bed. Normally I would have given both girls a kiss on the cheek and said goodnight, but this evening I just waved at them from the safety of Sarah's doorway and headed back to the master bedroom. I told myself I was tired, I wasn't chickening out. -- I have a little routine I go through every night. I strip down nude and jump into bed and read a couple chapters of whatever book I am reading. Next I grab the remote off my nightstand and flip on a porn movie on my bedroom TV. After I have "relieved myself" I go clean up in the attached bathroom, jump in bed and go to sleep. She timed it pretty well. I keep the volume on my bedroom TV pretty low for obvious reasons, but the porn I was watching was approaching the exciting climax when Bree slipped into my room. She was wearing the thin T Shirt again, sans pants. The hem of the shirt barely brushed the top of her thighs and the skin of her slender legs gleamed healthily in the glow coming from the television. On the screen, a blonde lady with big fake boobs was bent over. She had a big black cock stuffed inside her from the rear and she was happily gobbling a second big black clock from the front. I sat up straighter and tried to pull up my blankets to keep myself from being exposed to Bree. Unfortunately, my hands were busy, so Bree managed to grab the remote from the nightstand before I could. "Bree? What are you doing? Give me the remote!" I hissed, hoping to not alert Sarah. Bree ignored me and walked closer to the TV. Naked under the sheets, I couldn't very well get out of bed, but I had to somehow gain control of the situation. Maybe if I dashed to the bathroom while she wasn't looking, I could grab my robe... Bree sat on the foot of bed, staring at the screen as if mesmerized. On screen the blonde lady with the enormous boobs was being passed back and forth by the two black men with the oversized cocks. They bent her, twisted her around, used her in any position they felt like while she moaned in ecstasy at each new erotic assault. I realized that Bree was moaning in time with the blonde on the screen, and that she had her legs spread wide and both hands in front of her, doing something in her lap. As I watched, one hand slid up her front and clutched her breast under her shirt while she continued playing with herself right in front of me, although turned away. I may have mentioned that I watch a lot of Porn, but this was by far the most erotic thing I had ever seen. Bree was half a bed away from me, so close I could feel the heat radiating off of her. The smell of her sex was heavy in the room, and the dark thrummed with tension. I was harder than I had ever been, and was stroking myself beneath the covers before I knew I was doing it. Bree moaned louder and louder, she leaned back and forth, working her pussy furiously, just out of my sight. Finally she leaned back all the way, laying against my leg under the covers and bucking her hips off the bed. I could see her panties in the dim light as her shirt rode up, and her breasts were clearly outlined in the thin shirt, rock hard nipples and all, but the angle was wrong to see any more. Her head back, her hair around her like a halo, her back pressed into my foot and ankle. Bree grunted hard, biting back a yell as she climaxed explosively. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, Bree relaxed. She lay there almost a minute, gently stroking the front of her panties. I was still rock hard, and I could feel my balls staining for release, but I did not dare move, did not dare make a sound as Bree lay there, utterly still. Finally she sat back up, then stood up. Still facing away from me, she straightened her panties and tugged her shirt down where it had ridden up slightly. Her long brown hair hung in a veil between us. She moved quietly toward the door, but stopped long enough to leave the remote on my nightstand, then she slipped out as quietly as she came. The remote had wet spots on it from her fingers that smelled strongly of her heady natural perfume. I used it to snap the TV off, but I stayed up masturbating quite a while longer. -- The next morning Sarah borrowed the car. She and Bree wanted to go to the beach, but I claimed I needed to work on some of my client's books. In truth I just did not think I could be around Bree right then and remain in control. My dreams had been full of her the night before, and I was having trouble thinking straight. I had started this whole thing as the upstanding and righteous adult of the situation. Even after Bree had kissed me, then played footsie with me in front of my daughter, I had felt guilty but I hadn't done anything wrong. I still was in the right, technically, but something inside me had broken last night when Bree had masturbated on my bed, in front of me. I wanted her now, I needed her. I had intended to explain to her that while it was cute that she had a childhood crush on the father of her best friend, it could never lead to anything. Now it was simplified. I was a man, she was a woman, and I was going to fuck the ever-living shit out of her. Screw the morality of it, screw the consequences, most of all, screw her. She wanted to be a sex object, then I would use her like one. I was angry, I was horny, and I was obsessed. I felt like the dark monster that lived in the hole of my loneliness had crawled out and was wearing my skin. All in all, it was a good day to not spend with my girls. I hit my gym and worked myself hard, until I was exhausted. I took a hot shower, then I took a cold one, then I worked out some more. I went to all my favorite porn sites, masturbated, then went to clean up again. While looking for towels in the laundry room, I found Bree's panties. Green and white with a cute little cartoon frog just over where her cunt would be. They were the same ones she had been wearing last night, and they were laid out neatly atop the girls' laundry like a message, so I stole them. They had been soaked in her juices, and the smell was indescribable. Sweet, earthy, salty. I sniffed them, every inch of them. I tasted them, and shuddered at the tanginess of her dried cum. I wrapped them around my cock, reveling in the sensation that I was touching an object that had been touching Bree's sweet pussy. I fucked that soft piece of satin like I was fucking Bree through time and space. I started gently and slowly, then gradually increased tempo until I was banging away at her as hard as I could. I had never felt like this, I was manic. I had never been able to cum that many times in one afternoon before. Finally, exhausted, I buried the now thoroughly soiled panties deep in the girl's laundry basket and took another shower. I got dressed, went into my den, and promptly fell asleep at my desk. A few hours later, the girls breezed in. Skin glowing from the sunlight and still smelling slightly of the salty sea-air. I was feeling much better by then, the monster back in the box. I half-heartedly resolved to still find a chance to talk to Bree privately and let her down easy, but I was still a bit broken, and I was not completely sure that I wouldn't end up encouraging her instead. So I kept it light, laughed with them, listened to tall tales of their beach adventures. I grilled up some steaks and allowed both girls one beer each to go with dinner. The girls were exhausted and headed to bed early. A bit relieved, I stayed up watching TV in the living room and I ended up falling asleep in my chair before Letterman came on. I must have still had some lust floating around from earlier, because I fell into the most vivid dream of Melinda giving me a blowjob. In real life, Melinda hated giving blow jobs, and she was terrible at it besides. In my dream, however, she was actually pretty good. Suddenly Bree was there, turned away from me, fingering herself again, and Melinda reached up from behind her and started helping her, sliding two fingers into Bree's dripping wet pussy even as she sucked me off. I growled in the dream, and shoved Melinda aside, reaching for Bree, but Melinda sprang up and suddenly I was fucking her loose, familiar cunt. Melinda's fingers were still in Bree's pussy, but Bree was straining closer to where my cock was pounding Melinda's cunt, trying to get me to fuck her instead. It would have been a pretty good dream all around if we hadn't been surrounded by a thousand screaming monkeys throwing their shit at us. I woke up in my chair, with a crick in my neck and a raging hard-on. Sigh. Time for bed. -- I stumbled in to my room, exhausted. I left the lights off as I pulled my clothes off, intending to just collapse into bed fully naked and try to continue my dream. I was in bed and getting settled when I realized that I was not alone. Bree was in my bed, turned away from me, wearing the now familiar long t-shirt. I froze. I could tell she was awake and that she was tense, and slightly trembling. Like a bird poised to fly away. My head was swirling, I wanted to tell her to leave, I wanted to touch her, I wanted to hold her down, force her to look at me. I wanted to run away before I fell deeper down this rabbit hole. Slowly, she turned onto her back. Her long, smooth hair was in her face, a veil between us, but I could see the glimmer of her eyes from within. I realized that I had been right all along, Bree was incredibly shy, but she was making herself move beyond it with me, even though it was difficult for her. Her bare foot found mine, and slid up my leg as she spread her legs beneath the covers. The smell of her sex blossomed as her leg wrapped itself around mine, and she began fingering herself, looking at me from behind her hair. I had not been this close to a woman in a very long time. It is difficult to explain, but I felt almost like I was in her head. I ached to touch her, to run my hands on her smooth flesh, to run my tongue on her naked body, but it was as clear to me as words on a page that she wasn't ready yet. She was balanced on a knife edge, going to the ragged edge of what she dared. My resolve was broken now. Any thought I had ever had of not doing anything in my power to give this incredible young woman pleasure was swept away. I had loved her for years, watched her grow up. Now my feelings were inextricably tangled with my lust for her fuckable body. I would do whatever I could to help her, to please her. I balanced on my side next to her, and tangled my leg in hers. My hard-on lay against her thigh, and I took it in my hand, stroking slowly. I leaned my head down, my mouth near her ear. "Oh Bree..." I breathed. As simple as that and her hips were bucking, her breath was coming in gasps. I loomed over her, still on my side, and her breast pressed into my chest, only the thin fabric of her shirt separating us. She pressed her mouth against my shoulder, actually bit down a bit with her teeth, and then cummed as hard as any woman I had ever seen. She relaxed again, her body going limp, and her hand landed on my thigh, near my balls. Almost instantly I felt her tense again. Slowly I slid my hand off my penis, and reached down to hold her hand. When she didn't startle away, I moved her hand up to my member. Her hand closed around my girth almost automatically, and we sighed at almost the same instant. I chuckled and she giggled a bit, and I kissed her. She was tense at first, and I worried that I had pushed her too far, but she relaxed into it and returned the kiss the next instant, and she began pumping my dick with her hand at the same time. She kept adjusting her grip and changing tempo, it was clear she had never held a wang before. "Relax, you are doing fine. Just explore it." I whispered to her. She began sliding her hand over my cock, pulling on the head, running her hand down to cup my balls, as we continued to kiss. I slowly wrapped my arms around her, and she turned into me more fully. We ended up with her on top, straddling my thigh. She continued to fondle my manhood, and I was running my hands over her firm ass. She tensed up whenever my hands drifted up under her shirt, so I left it alone, despite how eager I was to taste her nipples. We kissed for quite a while, wrapped up in each other, exploring each other. Any thought I had ever entertained of stopping this was gone, I was beyond the point of no return as my hand closed around hers on my penis, and I showed her how to properly stroke it, then took over when her arm grew tired. She was grinding herself into my thigh, and I was cupping her ass cheeks. It was incredible. She surprised me when she shifted so she was straddling my whole lap. By this time, I was propped up by the pillows against the headboard, in a half-seated position. She was leaned up against me, and she raised her self until my cock head was against her vaginal entry. "Are you sure honey?" In answer she slid down and took my cock into her pussy. She was warm and wonderful. The fit was tight, but as she bore down with her body weight I slid all the way into her smoothly because she was very, very wet. As inexperienced as she was, I expected a hymen, but I encountered no resistance. "Oh, Oooooh God! I have wanted this for so long!" she gasped. I so badly wanted to see her pussy taking my cock, but when I leaned back, her shirt was in the way. I put my hands on her hips under the shirt, hoping she would take the hint and let me pull the damn thing off, but she made no move to. She just continued to pump on me, and she buried her face in my neck, her hands on my chest. I didn't really mind too much. I wanted to see her, but just feeling her was so incredible that I would already have had a tough time keeping from blowing my load early if I hadn't already masturbated so many times that day. Meanwhile, Bree was making real progress, despite her earlier masturbation. "I have wanted this for so long, so bad. Oh God! Oh God!" she panted. Bree lifted her lips to my ear. "Sarah told me you had a vasectomy." She whispered. I didn't know that Sarah known that. Melinda had pressured me into it just before it was clear our marriage couldn't be saved. Just one of the cruel things my bitch-Ex-wife had done. Bree continued "I want you to spill your seed into me. I want you to do to me what you did to my panties." With that, the animal from the afternoon was back. I shifted forward, dumping her onto the bed on her back, her legs in the air, without letting her off my cock. I pressed forward, trapping both her hands against the bed in one of mine, and used my other hand at the small of her back to lift her hips and move her closer to me. She gasped in surprise, but her eyes were glazed over and her face was flushed with lust. I pressed my mouth against hers, and slipped my tongue into her mouth, even as I began thrusting into her. I owned her now, I was a beast and she was mine. I would do with her as I pleased. We rutted hard. I had been spent earlier, so I had lasted quite a while, but she was so tight, so small, so compliant, and so damn erotic to me that I could feel a massive pay-load building. She orgasmed hard again, tensing up against me as her pussy clenched down onto my cock. She screamed my name so loud that Sarah could not help but hear it, and I let go of the last of my control. I roared and slammed into her, moving with raw need. My balls boiled as my hot cum shot out into her womb, each thrust pure sensation as I shoved as much of myself into her as I could. We relaxed at the same instant, tangled in each other's limbs. I rolled a bit so I wouldn't crush her, but she wouldn't let go. She gripped with her legs so that my cock stayed inside her and she covered my bare pectorals with feathery kisses. I ran my hands up her back, under her shirt, from her buttocks to her shoulder blades and back, just reveling in the feel of her sweaty young skin. We fell asleep that way for a couple hours, then I woke up and disentangled myself. I pulled back the covers, fluffed the pillows, then scooped her up and put her gently into bed before crawling in next to her. The Taming of Mr. Parson She murmured something intelligible and snuggled close as I pulled the cover over us. I kissed her head and closed my eyes and morning came before I was ready. -- I woke up, aware that the cover was gone, and the early morning chill air had entirely too much access to my cold body. Also someone was playing with my dick. I sighed pleasantly and looked down to find Bree playing with me in the morning light. She seemed fascinated with my manhood and the way it moved. She kept tugging it and passing it from hand to hand as it slowly grew more firm. She saw me looking at her and she smiled at me. "It's so beautiful!" she exclaimed, sliding her hand down to cup my balls. I was hard enough now that my member stood out on its own. I considered my dick a moment, I had never considered it beautiful and I was not sure I agreed. I looked back at her. "You are beautiful." She awarded me a kiss on my penis head and I groaned in pleasure. She stopped a moment, looking at me, her face hovering over my genitals. "Would it be ok if..." she paused a moment, then continued a bit quieter "Is it okay if I put my mouth on it?" I chuckled. "Yeah, I think that would be ok, honey." She started with her tongue, flicking my penis head before sliding her mouth down over me. She looked up at me with a look in her eyes that said "I hope this doesn't seem too gross or anything." I smiled encouragement and slid my hand into her hair. I was pretty sure this was her first time, so I tried to keep it simple as I whispered a few directions. Still she picked it up pretty fast. She was young and flexible and eager to please. Overall, the result was a fantastic blow job. She could polish my knob anytime she wanted to. I could feel my balls tightening. I really wanted to shoot my load into her mouth, but that would be a rude thing to do a girl on her first blow job. "Honey, I am going to cum soon. You may want to get clear." To my surprise and delight, this just seemed to excite her. She bobbed harder, slurped more, flicked me with her tongue some more. She looked at me and pleaded with her eyes for me to cum into her mouth. Not being one to disappoint a lady, this was about all it took for me. I grabbed the back of her head as gently as I could and let fly. As eager as she was to take my cum in her mouth, the actual moment surprised her. I think she tried to swallow it as it came, but we didn't get the rhythm synched and it was pretty clear once it started that she didn't much like the taste, so a lot of jism leaked back out onto me. After I was done, she looked down at the mess on my genitals, then looked back at me. "I read that guys like it when you swallow and then lick the rest up... I swallowed some...but..." she looked back at the mess, "Sorry about the mess." I chuckled again. "No problem Sweet-Bree, that is what showers are for!" I tried to take her in my arms again. She tugged self-consciously at her shirt and avoided my gaze. "Oh, ok. I will wait here until you come back." "Why don't you come with? The shower should be big enough for both of us." I suggested gently. She didn't answer, she just rolled over. I spooned up behind her, wrapping her into my arms again. "What is it about the shirt, honey? Why don't you want to take it off?" I felt wetness on my arm below her head, and I realized that she was crying. "You said I was beautiful, before." "I meant it; you are a very beautiful girl." "That's how I want you to always see me; I don't want you to see that I'm ugly." "Bree, I promise. I will always think you are beautiful." She lay there silently for a while, her tears dripping onto my arm. Then she sat up, still turned away, and drew her shirt off over her head and threw it to the floor. Without a word she lay back down next to me and rolled onto her back, pointedly looking away from me at the wall. And there she was, in all her glory. She was slender with a runner's build. Her vaginal mound was covered in fine soft hairs the same color as her hair. Her skin was pale and beautiful, and she had two perky breasts capped by perfect brown nipples, currently rock hard. Finally, between her breasts, there was a criss-cross tracery of jagged scars, obviously cuts that had been deep and painful. I remembered being told that when she was 12, a boy had attacked her with a knife. She had spent nearly that whole summer in the hospital and Sarah had gone every day they let her. I had seen her then, seen the bandages. The scars weren't so bad, truthfully, and I had expected them, or something like them. I realized that, now that she had revealed them to me, she had laid herself bare to me, both literally and figuratively. I reached up with both hands and took her nipples in between my thumb and forefinger. She looked back at me, fear in her eyes, and I smiled at her, then leaned down and kissed her between her breasts right on her scars, then looked back up and into her green eyes. "Did you think I didn't know about your scars?" Tears welled up in her eyes and she grabbed my head and pulled me to her, kissing me more passionately than I have ever been kissed before. We kissed and she cried, and I soothed her. Bodies pressed together closely in the morning light. We made love then. It was slow and gentle and intimate in a way I could never have imagined. I think it was my first time. -- After a breathless morning of lovemaking and giddily exploring each other's bodies, Bree and I got up to have a shower. By this time Bree was comfortable with me seeing her naked. This made me happy, because she was breathtakingly beautiful when naked. In the shower we continued to play with each other, and actually managed to get fairly clean before the hot water ran out. When we finally got out and toweled ourselves off, we came back into the room to find an outfit of Bree's clothing folded neatly on the bed. It could have only come from Sarah. I'm not sure why I was surprised; after all, it was Two o'clock in the afternoon. Bree had spent all night and all morning with me, and we had not been exactly quiet. Bree saw the clothes and did not seem surprised. She saw me looking at her and shrugged. "Sarah knows, or at least she knows I planned something like this." She grabbed panties from the pile and started getting dressed. "You planned this?" To me, it seemed like it had just kind of happened. "Planned is probably not the right word. It took me a long time to build up the courage to approach you." She fingered her scars self-consciously, "but after I kissed you, it just sort taking on a life of its own. I wasn't sure how you would take it, and I could tell that you felt like it was wrong. You were looking for a way to back out without hurting me, so I just had to keep pressing forward before you had a chance to..." she paused, tears welling up in her eyes. "...tell me no." "You wanted to sleep with me because you thought I wouldn't notice if you left your shirt on? So I wouldn't notice the scars?" She looked me in the eye. "No. I mean, I was worried that you would think my scars were a turn-off, but I always wanted this to be you. I always wanted to have this with you." She looked down at her scars again. "I got these when I was twelve. An older boy invited me to a party. He kissed me, my first kiss. He gave me some beer, but it tasted gross so I poured it out after the first drink, when he wasn't looking." She was clutching her hands, obviously telling this was painful to her. She blinked then looked me in the eyes again. "He obviously put something in the drink. Even that first sip was enough to make me woozy and tired, but I didn't drink enough to put me out all the way. He dragged me into the back and took my clothes off. I tried to stop him..." She took a breath, "He had a knife, he was so angry, he just kept..." she gestured vaguely to her crotch, "and every time he cut me. He was yelling..." I grabbed her in my arms, pulled her into my lap and held her. "Shhh, its ok. You don't need to tell me anymore." "No, no it's ok." She laughed, but stayed cuddled close to me anyway. "That was my first time. My only time except for you, now." She brushed her hair out of her face, the veil was between us and the world now. "I went through lots of counseling after that. Lots of, 'This wasn't your fault' and 'it's okay to be angry, but remember that not all men are like this.'" She leaned away, looking me in the eye. "The thing is, I had already decided. I decided when I was 10 that I was going to be with you." I raised my eyebrow at her. "No, it's true. When Sarah and I were 10, our weekend fell on a valentines day. Sarah's mom picked me up and was dropping us off when you met her at the door with a bouquet of flowers." I remembered that. I had picked it up on a lark along with a bottle of champagne. I had just had my first big bonus from a client, and I was thinking that maybe Melinda and I could get back together, even if it was just for Valentines Weekend. She had turned me down flat, had some very humiliating things to say, and I had ended the night drinking the whole bottle of champagne myself. One of my loneliest and most miserable experiences. Bree continued. "You looked so handsome, and hopeful. Then I looked at Ms. Parson and she had such a mean look on her face. She sent Sarah and me inside to go play, but we stuck nearby. We heard you keep trying to be nice, and the things she said to you. It was horrible, and then you were so sad, that whole weekend." Bree continued to get dressed as she told this part, but now she looked at me and blushed. "I felt so bad for you and I told Sarah, one day I was going to... well I said I was going to marry you, but to 10 year old me that meant having this." She gestured vaguely around us. "So then later, after... after I got hurt; and all the counselors were telling me what I should be feeling and not be feeling. That was what I clung to. The idea that one day I would be old enough that you would like me, and we could be together. I knew that you could make it better." I looked at her, speechless at the magnitude of what she was saying. This was no simple crush, there was no way I could have ever let her down easy, not if she had been staking her psychological health on me accepting her as a lover for the last six years. I knew that I should feel wary of this young woman telling me that she loved me after one incredible sexual encounter, but what I felt was giddy, and light. I was riding an emotional high that I had not felt in years and years and maybe it was affecting me more profoundly than I thought, but the thought of Bree clinging to me for sanity was actually not unappealing. There was a silence as these thoughts ran through my head. Bree sighed and sat down. "I know that sounds like I am crazy and I am putting this all on you. I'm not, really, I just have always known I want you, whatever I could have of you. I have been so lonely, and crazy scared so long... you and me, and this... whatever we have together... It just clicks for me. I'm not trying to put obligations on you." She looked at the floor. She was fully dressed sitting on my bed and I was completely naked, standing above her. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, and as I looked at her there, telling me that I had no obligation to her, something clicked in me too. I considered a moment. Did I still see Bree as a little girl, or did I see her as a young woman? Bree had always been my daughter's best friend. Despite their close childhood, I had never considered her as a daughter. This is not to say that I did not care for her, I did a great deal, but it had always been in the context of her being close to my daughter, mattering to my daughter. I no longer thought of Bree as a child. She was a woman, with a woman's needs and complexities. As I thought about it, I realized that she did matter to me, more than I realized. I was attracted to her, obviously, but more than that, I liked and respected the person she had become. Whatever happened next, we could never go back to the way things had been. So what now? Something struck me. "This is what you have been fighting about isn't it? You have been planning on this since you were 10, then you turn 18 and you tell Sarah what you are planning. I imagine she did not approve." "Yeah, she kept trying to hook me up with guys at our birthday party, so I told her that I was going to try and hook up with you. I asked her for help because I wasn't sure if I could do it. Sarah was totally against it. I think she still hoped you and Ms. Parson will get back together, since you have both been single all this time." Bree shrugged. "But she finally gave me the go ahead, when we were at the beach." "Wait, she did?" If Sarah was ok with us, then that made this easier. "Yeah. We saw you at the zoo, you know. You looked so sad. The sky was clear and blue, but you were sitting there alone under your own cloud. You were looking at all these people around you who were together with someone. It was like, we could FEEL your loneliness and hurt from across the park. Sarah told me the next day that it was that moment that made her realize how lonely you were. She's worried about you and she said that if I thought I could make you happy, I should try." She paused, "I think she feels a bit squicky about the thought of someone she considers a sister fucking her father though." I thought about my daughter, Sarah. I thought about how I would feel if Bree's father was in this situation with her. I was 34, Bree was 18. I had been married and had a kid, a kid that was the same age as Bree in fact, Whereas Bree was at the very begging of her life. For us to be together, really together, there were crazy amount of obstacles in our way. Yet, the idea made me happy; truly, giddily, happy in a way that I had not felt in decades. Even better, Bree had obviously given it a lot of thought and she wanted it too. If there was a chance of us being happy together, didn't we deserve to try? Other than Sarah, whose opinion mattered to me so much that I would turn down a chance to make both Bree and myself happy? "Bree... shit, how do I say this?" I sat down next to her on the bed. "Sarah is the only person in the entire world more important to me than you are." I took her hand in mine, "What we have done... what we are doing... It is not normal, will not be seen by anyone as right. What will people say? What are your parents going to think?" She sat on the bed, shoulders slumped, staring at her feet. I continued "but..." He eyes swung back up and fixed on mine." "This makes me happy. If it makes you happy, and..." She whooped suddenly and sprang up, and then literally jumped on me, driving me back into the bed. "You're mine!" she said in a relieved and satisfied voice, and then she began kissing me very, very thoroughly. "Bree! Wait! Let me breathe!" I gasped for breath. "You know this will be hard, right? I'm 34 and you're 18. People will talk, people will look down their noses at us..." She laughed and kissed me again. "I don't care, I don't... even... care..." she murmured between kisses. And that pretty much killed the afternoon. -- We couldn't stay in my room forever, and so that evening we showered again, got dressed, and headed for the kitchen. Sarah was already there, sitting at the kitchen table eating a sandwich. She arched an eyebrow as we walked in. I decided to play it cool, so I nodded at her and headed straight for the fridge, and Bree followed my lead. After a moment of me rustling around in the fridge, it became evident that I was not going to break the silence first, Sarah piped up. "I take it you two have... reached an understanding?" Bree just smiled broadly at her best friend, so I spoke up. "Whatever do you mean, daughter-dearest?" Sarah smiled ruefully and shook her head. "Fine, as long as you are both happy, whatever. Just don't get all smoochy or whatever in front of me." She sighed. "And don't spend all day in your room anymore! I have been SOOO bored all day." Bree stole the sandwich I had just made for myself and sat down across from her friend, grinning happily. Sarah shook her head again and stage-whispered at me. "At least I get the whole bed again!" Bree opened her mouth in mock outrage "YOU are glad to be rid of ME!?" She looked at me and haughtily informed me. "Her feet smell. And she snores." Sarah snorted, looking at me. "HER feet smell..." Then she turned to Bree and pointed at me. "...and HE snores!" "Well when he snores, I just cover his mouth with my..." Bree began but Sarah interrupted her with wide eyes and hand waving. Bree arched an eyebrow and continued "...pillow. Really Sarah, you should do something about that filthy mind you have." I finished another sandwich and plated it before someone else stole it, then joined my girls at the table. "We should watch the movie we rented." I grinned wolfishly at Bree. "Sarah, you can have the chair, we will sit on the couch." Sarah tried to act exasperated, but I could see her smile. "I swear to God, I will turn the hose on you two if I have to!"