14 comments/ 270647 views/ 25 favorites Problem Child By: Johnny_PT John Martin was in big trouble. His 20-year-old daughter was in jail and was expecting a baby, and he knew who the father was. He was! He had tried to arrange an abortion before his wife could find out, but Cindy had just gotten arrested by the highway patrol for speeding, drunk driving and resisting arrest. Cindy had always been the wild one, the very opposite of her sister Clara, who was wise, mature and responsible, even though Clara was two years younger than Cindy. Cindy had always been a problem child from the very beginning. John just didn't know what he should do with Cindy. Ground her? It hadn't worked during her teenage years, and certainly not now as Cindy was an adult who was unafraid of her parents, or anyone else for that matter. Talking to her? It hadn't worked either. She was belligerent, defensive and sometimes violent. John had tried his best to show her the right path, but Cindy enjoyed pushing his buttons, taunting him into violence, something he had vowed not to do to his kids like his father had done to him. Cindy would come home drunk at 3 am. She would constantly break curfew as if the concept was foreign to her. She would ride on motorbikes with her friends after being told not to come near the rough, leather-clad bikers of the neighborhood. He had thrown her out of his house, but his wife had begged for her return. And he had conceded, as he was sick of fighting with Marcie, his wife. After all, at that time, Cindy was just 17 – a born-to-be-wild-child, as she called herself. When she turned 18, she left the house, seemingly for good. With Cindy gone, John's existence became peaceful and even pleasant. He'd still worry about his eldest daughter, but it was her own life to live and he knew parents had to let go of their children sooner or later. It was the way of the world and there was no way around it. Anyway, he still had his younger daughter. Clara had been accepted in an Ivy League college and after the summer she would leave home toward her new, very promising, bright future. However, the peace John enjoyed for about a year vanished in a fateful summer evening. John hit the brakes and the metallic screeching made him return to the present. He heaved a sigh of relief when he managed to stop his car in time. The near accident made him sober up and focus on what he was doing. He was driving to the highway patrol station where Cindy had be taken to. He had also to post bail to secure her release as quickly as possible. And knowing how big-mouthed his daughter was, he was terrified at the thought of Cindy telling them that she was pregnant with her father's child. With a lump in his throat he parked the car and strode in the station, painfully aware of the cops' movements. He waited for a while before the cop behind the desk could attend him. When the old lady before him left, he said, "I'm here for my daughter, Cindy Martin." "Cindy Martin?" the cop asked. "Yes..." John stammered, clearing his throat. "Hey, Harold," the cop called out. "We have a Cindy Martin in here?" "Yes, we do. It's the wild cat we put in jail this morning." "Okay," the cop said, turning to John. "Wait a minute, sir. I need to talk to my superior about this." And the cop left the desk and disappeared behind a door with a stained glass window. John took a handkerchief out of the pocket of his pants and dried off his temples and forehead with it. He was perspiring like a pig. It was the heat, he told himself, but he knew it wasn't. He just didn't know what to do. Should he go and avoid arrest?... Or should he stay because Cindy hadn't told a thing? Why the cop had to talk to his superior? Why Cindy was so special that he had to talk to his superior? His heart hammered on his chest and his blood was full of adrenaline. "What am I supposed to do?" he thought. I wanted to be a good father... But she didn't let me. She didn't. Suddenly the door with the stained glass window came open and the cop returned to his desk. "The captain is going to receive you. Please go and knock on that door." The trooper pointed to a door with a sign that read Highway Patrol Captain, C. Oakes. "Are you okay, sir?" "Yes, yes, why?" John managed to say. "You are shaking, sir. And you're pale, but I guess... if I had a daughter like yours... Well, please go see the captain. That's important." John knocked on the door and to his surprise he heard a female voice, not his daughter's, ordering him to come in. "Oh, there you are, Mr. Martin," said the woman, standing up and shaking his hand. "I am Carol Oakes. Please sit down." "Where is Cindy?" he asked, still trying to curb his nervousness. "We'll come to that. But first I will have to ask you some questions." "What... questions?" John stuttered, fidgeting in his seat. "Are you aware of the charges against your daughter?" "Yes, I think we spoke on the phone a little earlier." "Are you aware that your daughter is pregnant?" "Yes...? Is she?" "Yes, she is, and she was drunk... and driving at 100 mph on the highway when she was intercepted. Not really the proper behavior of someone who is going to be a mother within seven months. Do you have any idea why she did that?" "No, ma'am. I—" "Well, that's a shame. We called our psychologist just in case. This kind of behavior is very rare in women, unless..." "Unless what?" "They suffered some kind of abuse. Are you aware of any abuse perpetrated on your daughter?" "Abuse?" said he, blinking his eyes, clasping his hands together to prevent them from shaking. "Yes, abuse. We know she's been involved with drugs and a bike club nearby, sir. Perhaps you could tell us what she told you. That may help our investigation." "Oh," John said, feeling some tension dissipate. He told her the little he knew about his daughter's life with the rogue that seduced her away from home and had beaten her up because of a drug deal gone bad. Captain Oakes took down everything he told her and finally she rose to her feet and said, "Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Martin. Please pay the bond at the desk and take your daughter home. And please talk to her, and enroll her for counseling. She needs urgent professional help before she does something she will truly regret later. Bye, Mr. Martin." And with that, Captain Oakes shook John's hand with vigor and showed him the door. Nervously, John waited at the station's desk for Cindy. He had already paid the bail bond and filled in all the paperwork. Shock came over him when he saw the state his daughter was in. She had some bruises on her face and arms; her lustrous, long, pitch-black hair was matted as if with sweat. Cindy's tall, slender yet sinuous frame was still intact, though. It was her daughter's body that made her so attractive and sexy... "Dad, I am sorry," she said as soon as she saw him. "I am so sorry," she continued, tears going down her cheek. "Please forgive me." John held his daughter close and let her shed the tears. He was embarrassed, on tenterhooks, because he really didn't want to show his affection for his daughter in front of so many cops who could arrest him if they understood what was really going on. When he was about to leave the station, with his daughter crying on his shoulder, he turned and saw that Captain Oakes and the guy at the desk were watching them. They drove home in silence. He had wanted to say so many things to his daughter but nothing sounded appropriate. His daughter was 10 weeks pregnant with his child and he had to find a clinic as fast as possible. He had repeated that advice countless times, but she wanted to keep her baby... Their baby. And that was the reason why they had fought and she had run away from home once more. When he parked the car at the driveway, he remained motionless, waiting for her to speak. Still, she didn't say a thing, as though she was waiting for him to take the initiative. Eventually, with a raucous voice, she said, "Dad?" "Yes, honey." "I want to keep the baby." "You can't. People will ask questions. Your mother will ask questions. Your sister will ask question. The cops..." "I didn't tell them anything," she suddenly said, facing him for the first time that evening. "I swear. You've got to believe me. And I won't tell anyone. I swear!" "But why do you want to keep the baby so bad, honey? It will ruin your life. And mine too." "Dad, don't you understand?" John looked at her child's face, the eyeliner mostly gone, streaking her lovely, attractive face of a young woman with blackened lines. Her disheveled hair gave her the look of a wild child, dressed in a black leather mini-skirt and a tight jacket also made of leather. Her slightly tan long legs made him return to the past, to the moment he desired her for the first time. "Dad?" She shook him awake. "Don't you understand? I want this child because it's yours, it's ours. This baby is the only good thing that has happened to me since a long time. I'd rather have your child than any guy's. I hate them. I hate what they did to me. They're rapists. You were the only man who showed me some respect." "Cindy, please... You're not making any—" All of a sudden, the front door came open and Marcie, Clara, and her boyfriend Brad were in the front lawn. "Baby," cried John's wife, "baby, you're back. We were worried sick about you. We didn't know where you were." John left the car and sighed as his wife and younger daughter embraced Cindy. "Mr. Martin," greeted Brad shyly, with a curt nod, his hands buried in his pockets, seemingly embarrassed to be there. "Hi, Brad." John was too worried with Cindy and what she might say to his wife and younger daughter for him to hold a light conversation with Clara's boyfriend, as he usually would. Feeling helpless and distraught he retired to his study, breathing deeply. He flopped himself down on his chair and sighed, combing his attractive chestnut hair back with his trembling fingers. "Why my daughter?" he thought. Why? Why? Why? John Martin knew why. Because Cindy was every man's dream. She was an attractive, assertive, dangerous, wild cat. She was a rush of adrenaline personified. She had a great body and her face was lively, with big blue gray eyes, and pouting, sensual lips. Her provocative way of walking was accentuated by the way she dressed. Black leather was always a must. Black boots were usually a must too. Tiny mini skirts revealing most of her long legs and tight tank tops with no visible bra were also usual items during summer. John and his wife had tried everything to control their daughter but Cindy would not let up. She was a human hurricane, an indomitable wild horse that could not be tamed. It seemed as though Cindy was following her grandmother's footsteps, Marisabel Garcia Evans, a Mexican-born matriarch who had ruled her family with an iron fist. There had been lots of rumors about Marisabel and no one, not even her children — Marcie, for one — knew whether they were true. Yes, Cindy was a wild girl. Her wild ways had almost cost her life, though, when her biker boyfriend almost beat her to death. John recalled how horrified he was when he saw her at their front door, bruised, bleeding and crying. He had wanted to find the bastard and kill him with his own bare hands, but he knew better than that. He called 911 and the cops escorting an ambulance came just in time. The bastard was later caught and thrown in prison. For a while, Cindy seemed to have calmed down. She became the dutiful daughter he and Marcie had wanted her to be. Even Cindy and Clara became best friends, the sisters they had never been. Clara took good care of her elder sister, and for once Cindy appeared to accept Clara's proximity. But that peace did not last long. Three months after the beating Cindy had returned to her wild ways, going to parties after parties, and getting drunk. The only thing she now avoided like the plague were the bikers of the neighborhood, and for good reason. One fateful night John remained awake. He was worried and mad at Cindy. He was going to talk to her and give her another piece of his mind. He had doubts about the effectiveness of one more talking-to to a rebellious 19-year-old, but he had to try, even if it meant to throw her out of the house again. And so he waited in the living room, but he eventually fell asleep. He woke up when the lights went on. "Dad, what the hell are you doing in the living room?" "Cindy?" said he, still sliding out of the lethargy of a bad night of sleep on the couch. "What's the time?" "Five am." "Cindy, I want to talk to you." "Oh no, you don't." "Oh yes, I do," said John, getting to his feet. "I know what you're going to say to me, so forget it." Cindy kept staring at her father with defiance, pouting her lips in a satisfied smile. "Cindy," said he, raising his voice, but not enough, as he didn't want to wake up his wife and Clara. "Yes, Dad," she said, turning to face her father in a husky, blasé voice. She shouldered off her leather jacket and threw it to the couch. As usual, she was dressed in a very revealing mini-skirt and a tight black halter mini top. The black, sexy clothing set off her tan skin, and the huskiness, with a slight alcoholic slur, was embarrassing him. John realized his sudden, unexpected erection. The long legs and the amazing sensuality her daughter was exuding had made him speechless, confused and angry at himself. What the hell was happening to him? "Cindy..." he stammered. "You can't..." "Dad," she uttered almost in a whisper. "What can't I? I'm 19. You can't say anything. I do what I want and you can't do anything about it." "Cindy, please," he pleaded, still embarrassed by his growing hard-on. "You can't go on like that. You can't." "Why not?" Cindy waited, letting her hair down by removing a few hairpins and an elastic band. Her pitch-black, long hair flowed down her tank top and bare midriff. For the first time, John noticed that Cindy wore a sparkling belly button piercing, and his erection grew even more if that was possible. Then he knew... that she knew... about his erection. At first she seemed surprised, even repulsed by it, but then her pretty face smiled. "Dad, is that what I think?" "Cindy, what..." Cindy came near him and said, "Dad, you old bastard. You want me." "No, Cindy, it's not like that." "Oh no? What is this then?" Her hand touched on his groin and John almost moaned because of the unexpected surge of pleasure he had experienced. "Cindy!" he tried to rebuke her, but she giggled. "You're drunk." "Oh yeah?" she said with delight, her face approaching John's dangerously. "So why don't you remove my hand from your... penis? Or should I say... cock?" And John quivered as he felt his daughters' fingers sliding up and down his erection through the fabric of his pajama pants. "Oh man, you really like it, don't you?" "Cindy, stop it!" John whispered, making a strenuous effort to sound assertive, holding his daughter's arm, preventing it from moving but unable to remove it from his erection. It just felt too good, so good that he already felt some pre-cum wetting his trunks. He couldn't remember to be this excited, ever, not even when he was a teenager. "Dad, you're not convincing. All you have to do is push me away." "Cindy, please." "Dad," she whispered into his half open mouth, her lips so close to his, "you want me. If you say otherwise I'll leave and we'll forget about this." Even though John held his daughter's hand the fingers kept caressing his manhood through his pants. "Dad, are you listening? All you have to say is 'go' and I will." "Go," he murmured weakly and she stopped the caresses. "Okay, let go of my arm or I can't leave." Discomfited he let her go, and in a haze John saw her retrieve her leather jacket and climb up the stairs, turning twice to send him her mischievous, triumphant grin. With Cindy gone, John almost cried in frustration. He just couldn't believe what had just happened. His 19-year-old daughter had just humiliated him in the worst way and he had a raging erection he had to dispose of. Either he would masturbate or wake up Marcie... but none of the options seemed fitting. Slowly he went upstairs and realized, with relief, the coast was clear. What Marcie would think of the kind of "talking-to" he had just had with their older daughter? She would certainly report him... wouldn't she? Sighing and still feeling his hard-on under his pants, John once again considered masturbating in the bathroom, but then he decided against it. The house was too silent and the women of the house would surely hear him do it if for some reason they were awaken. And Cindy certainly was. And speaking of the devil, he looked at his daughter's bedroom door and had the shock of his life. The door was ajar as though she was inviting him in, so that they could consummate... His train of thought halted. Consummate what? You're not going to consummate anything with Cindy. She's your daughter! Grow up! It was the voice of his conscience, which battled with his hedonistic side... Yes, she's your daughter, but who cares? She wants you, she wants her daddy to fill her up, to fill and fuck her good, until she cannot stand it anymore. Don't you know that's what little girls want from their daddies? Don't YOU KNOW THAT? John shook his head, driving temptation away, feeling the perspiration going down his hot, throbbing temples. He touched his manhood under his pants and then he screamed. "John, what are you doing here in the dark? And why are you screaming? Is Cindy back from the party?" Dumbfounded he didn't know what to say to his sleepy wife, who had just opened the door of their bedroom. He had tried to give a reply every time she uttered a question but John just couldn't say a word. He blinked his eyes when Marcie turned on the lights of the hall where they stood. "Dad, are you okay?" said Cindy, showing up in the hall with a long black Harley Davidson T-shirt, which covered her body but revealed the curves of her C-cup breasts and her exquisite, sculptural, long legs. "Yes, I am okay. I just didn't expect your mother to be here... That's all." "Oh, okay." There was a knowing grin on Cindy's face. "I thought you'd fallen down the stairs or something." "Okay, people," Marcie said, "let's all go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be a long day." "Goodnight, Dad," Cindy said, holding her father by the neck and giving him a peck on his lips. "I loved our conversation downstairs. You were great, for once." And then she left and returned to her room, this time closing her door. Marcie looked at his husband and batted her bleary eyes, yawning. "What was that all about?" "Don't ask," John replied. "Your daughter is a certified lunatic." And he scampered in his bedroom before his wife could see his major hard-on, which had been resurrected by his daughter's cheeky peck on his lips right in front of her mother. That night John couldn't sleep. His wife snoring prevented him from falling asleep and the knowledge that her daughter, the reason of his excitement, was just next door wasn't helping either. He had considered going to her room and... talk. But he knew he was kidding himself... For the first time in his life he was attracted to his wild child. Yes, it was true that Cindy could be a sexpot — he had seen her in other skimpy outfits as sexy as the one of that very night —, but he had always managed to keep his parental sense of duty above anything else. However, everything had changed. Cindy had broken the thin barrier that separates what's proper and what's not. She tried to seduce him, her own father, and he had succumbed to her charms, like he was a virgin boy and she was his first date. Finally, slumber came and took him to dreamland where he heard his daughter call him from afar, "Dad, Daddy... You want me, don't you?" Footsteps followed in the mist surrounding him, preventing him from seeing Cindy. "Daddy? You want me, don't you?" And then more footsteps, and then giggles... Endless giggles... Until deep sleep took over. Problem Child Ch 02 Cindy's announcement that she was pregnant exploded like a bomb right in front of John, Marcie and Clara. Marcie looked at her daughter with a mix of stupefaction and disbelief. "Pregnant? PREGNANT? Pregnant HOW?" "Mom, don't start." Cindy looked away from her mother, somewhat startled by her mother's angered yelling. "Who is he?" Marcie asked, grabbing her daughter's arm as though she wanted to shake the truth out of Cindy. "Who IS he?" "You don't KNOW him!" Cindy yelled back, twisting her arm free from her mother's grip. "Okay?" "No, it's not okay. I want to know his name." "What for?" replied Cindy, blinking her eyes as if the living room had suddenly been filled with blinding sunshine. "WHAT FOR?" Marcie repeated with outrage. "For the bastard that did this to take full responsibility, that's what's for." "I'm not gonna marry him, Mom, if that's what you're thinking. And besides, I wanted it to happen." "You wanted to get PREGNANT?!" "Yes, I did." And for the first time Cindy dared look up at her father. John remained silent, flabbergasted and terrified at the same time. He had wanted to intervene and prevent a clash between his wife and Cindy, but as usual Cindy did something stupid with no regard for the consequences — or his opinion for that matter. "I wanted to have his baby," affirmed Cindy, casting a quick glance at her father, as though she wanted to see his reaction. "I WANT to have his baby." "And you, John, why don't you say something?" asked Marcie, turning to her husband, her hands trembling with anger. "She's your daughter, too." Marcie's eyes looked around as if she was searching for something. Despite her involuntary shaking, Marcie was able to take out a cigarette from a pack lying on the corner table. She tried to light it up, but because of her nervousness she failed twice, which made her more irritable and frustrated. "JOHN, for God's sake, say something!" John made an effort to speak, but all he did was to murmur something unintelligible. Eventually, he cleared his throat and uttered, "I give up." "You give UP?" asked Marcie, releasing the cigarette smoke through her nostrils and then coughing it up. "You give up on your daughter, is that what you're saying?" "No, I don't mean like that," said John, sighing and sinking into the couch. "It's obvious she's determined to have... I mean, this baby. Isn't that so, Cindy?" "Yes. It's my own body. I decide what I want to do with it. I'm 19. You can't make me do anything I don't want. And if you do, I'll just leave." "Maybe you'd better." John looked at his wife and to his own shock it looked like she meant what she had just said, calling their daughter's bluff. "Okay, everybody calm down." All faces turned to Clara, who had remained silent until then. "We're all adults here, so please let's not do anything stupid. Cindy's pregnant. She can't go anywhere. She needs medical care, and booting her out of the house won't help her, or us, at all." John observed Clara, and the way she argued with Marcie. Clara was the brains of the family. That girl would go places, John mused, and her GPA of 4.5 and SAT score of 1490 proved it. Clara had been a shy, withdrawn little girl, who loved to spend hours reading and daydreaming in her own bedroom during her early childhood. Clara was a science geek, who dreamt about becoming an astronaut and traveling through space, visiting new worlds and civilizations. When his younger daughter turned 14 she bloomed into an attractive, outgoing, popular girl, who loved textbooks as much as being your next-door cheerleader. Clara's beauty was less blatant than Cindy's, because she did not flaunt it as her older sister did. Still, she was asked out by different boys quite often until she began to go steady with Brad Hawkins, a good kid Clara had met in a meeting for the neighborhood's Catholic youth. Inadvertently John's eyes fell on Clara's plump breasts, encased in a white sports cotton bra and covered by a tight green spaghetti strap top with the blue, red and white logo of her cheerleading squad. As he realized his growing erection, John sat up straight on the couch, scanning the faces of the women of the house for any clues as to whether they could somehow guess his lustful thoughts. John's eyes became transfixed with Clara's long dark blonde hair, which brushed up and down against his daughter's breasts. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his arm. "John, damn it. We need you here and you're thinking about God's-know-what." "I'm sorry, Marcie," said John, shaking his head to drive away the sudden lust for his younger daughter. "First my older daughter, now my younger daughter, too?" he thought, some panic hitting him in the face as he noticed his wife's glare. "I'm sorry, I was thinking..." "Yes, we know that. But what I want to know is what you think about what Clara's just said." "I'm sorry, honey..." John fidgeted on the couch and faced his younger daughter. "What did you say? I didn't hear it." "I said we should support Cindy if she wants to have the baby, Dad. Mom's okay with it. So, my question is: are you okay with it too?" "Are you okay with this, Marcie?" John asked, incredulous. "Well..." Marcie began, lighting up another cigarette. "I'm her mother... I don't want her... to be out there... and... I think Clara is right. If Cindy wants to keep the baby, I'm okay... with that. I never believed in abortion, so... I think I'm okay with that." "Then I think you shouldn't smoke near Cindy," said John, experiencing an odd sense of relief. "It's not good for the baby." "Oh... I'm sorry, you're right." Marcie left, pulling the sliding door to the side and stepping outside to finish her smoke. John faced his two daughters and then his erection grew to frightening proportions when he saw Clara hold Cindy tight and then kiss her older sister on the forehead. Self-conscious and confused, John stood on his feet and turned away from his daughters before they could see his hard-on. "What am I becoming?" he thought, genuinely preoccupied. "Now Cindy and Clara being gentle to each other turns me on, too?" Although John was keen on going for an evening walk in the woods bordering the backyard of his plush three-story home, he decided to avoid Marcie and go for drinking a good cup of coffee in his study, where he kept a fully automatic espresso machine. He made himself a nice, steamy, frothy cappuccino, inhaling the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans, and in an involuntary movement touched his shrinking erection. He resisted masturbating, though, as the door was not locked. Instead, he went to the bay window and saw that Marcie was still smoking. She had resumed her smoking five years before and that filthy habit was ruining her good looks and her sex drive. John couldn't remember the last time they had sex... His sex life had been a joke until Cindy tore down the sexual barrier between father and daughter. His train of thought returned to the day after their first close encounter... He had wanted to talk to Cindy about it, but his older daughter steered clear of him at all costs, as if she was ashamed and could not face up to what happened between them in living room. Cindy was as complicated as Marcie... Women! Nobody could understand them. Cindy and Marcie's moods could change in a bat of an eye. One day everything was fine and dandy, the next everything was dark and nasty. Clara was more like him — cerebral, thoughtful, sometimes withdrawn and unfriendly, but their moods were more constant and less prone to sudden swings. Fortunately, his wife and Clara hadn't noticed the abrupt change in Cindy's behavior, John thought, finishing his cappuccino with a contented sigh. Cindy and he had never been close, so Cindy making the extra mile to dodge him was not that strange, but still... it was irritating. This state of affairs remained so until he came back early from work. He was about to take a shower when he heard a muffled whimper coming from Cindy's room. "Cindy, is that you? Are you all right?" As he got no answer he insisted, knocking on her door. "Cindy, are you all right? Can I come in?" "No, go away!" he heard her daughter say from the other side of her bedroom door. "Cindy?" "NO, I told you: GO THE FUCK AWAY!" "That's not the way..." He entered his daughter's room, irked by his daughter's insolence and use of a forbidden four-letter word, but then he stopped in his tracks. Cindy was crying, her face covered with streams of tears mixed with eyeliner. "Cindy? What..." Cindy immediately flinched away from him, retreating closer to the wooden headboard of her bed. "Don't you touch me! Don't you FUCKING touch me!" "But... but... Cindy... I'm not going to touch you. It's you who..." "Yes, yes, yes... You, men, are all the same. If I give you an inch you think you own me. But you DON'T. You FUCKING DON'T!" "But... Cindy... Calm down..." "You say I did... what I did to you... You make it sound like it's my fault, and you didn't want it. I'm YOUR DAUGHTER, for chrissakes, and you don't even care!" "But... Cindy... that's not true. I care. I do." Cindy's tearful fits returned and she cried with a low, agonizing whimper, her lower lip shaking, while she rested her head against the headboard, sending him scared, quick glances. "I don't understand what's happening, Cindy, but if I hurt you in any way, I'm sorry. I really am. Oh fuck!" In despair, he wheeled away from his daughter's room and walked in his. Thank God, Marcie wasn't home. She was most probably swamped with work in the law firm where she worked as a legal assistant, and Clara was at Brad's for sure. John heaved a heavy sigh, repressing some tears. He had hurt his little girl and he could not stand the thought of it. He should have been stricter with her, but he hated physical punishment. He had never hit his girls. It was a promise he had made to himself when he was just 17. His father had been a cruel tyrant; he was not going to follow his footsteps - not if he could help it. Swallowing, John got rid of his tie and unbuttoned his immaculate white shirt's collar. He slumped down on his bed and put his big hands on his knees, his head low. He took a deep breath and tried to calm down and analyze his options. He was known to be a smart, articulate businessman, whose opinions were valued and respected by his peers and employees. He usually had a clear vision of what was good for him and his company. But with Cindy... everything became a blur. "Dad?" Surprised, John looked up. Cindy stood at the doorjamb of his room wearing a gray sweatshirt, which barely covered her white cotton panties. Her long legs and slender, trembling frame made her look so fragile. John wanted to cry and hit himself because he had hurt his beautiful daughter. "Dad, don't cry..." Cindy came near John and kneeled in front of him. "Dad, I'm sorry. You didn't do anything... I didn't want." Her blue gray eyes seemed worried with him. She no longer cried. She seemed serious, studying his face, her palm touching her father's face. "Are you sure?" he said, holding Cindy's hand to his face. "Yes, I'm sure." But still Cindy was utterly sad. Some tears welled up in her eyes once again. "Dad... it was not you... I'm not crying because of you." "You're not?" "Yesterday... I went out with this guy... and he..." "He... what?" "He... raped me. I didn't want it. But he was... just too strong... And I just couldn't stop him." "Oh, baby," he said, pressing his daughter against his body. "Oh, baby. Who's he? I'm gonna—" "Dad... shh... it's okay." She spoke in a low voice — as if she was still soothing him, while she was the one who needed to be soothed, John reasoned. "It's okay." And then she hugged her father. John kissed his daughter on the cheek, his lips becoming wet with her tears. "Dad?" "Yes?" "I'm sorry I did that... I was drunk. I didn't want to... embarrass you, or..." "No, it's okay. I—" "I was just surprised I could turn you on." "No, Cindy... Let's forget it all happened. I am going to be your father again, the father I never was. And we need to go to the police and report this guy who—" "No, Dad," she said, shaking her head. "I don't want it. I'll have my revenge, don't worry. I know a couple of guys..." "Cindy..." John protested weakly. "Dad, it's okay. You don't know me so well, but I have my connections. The guy's gonna pay. It's not going to be like Dave. I was too young and didn't know how bad guys could be, but this guy is gonna pay, don't you worry." "Cindy, I don't want you in any kind of trouble. Let me handle it." "No, you need your reputation for your work. I'm Cindy, Cindy Martin, who has nothing to lose by giving a lesson to a guy who raped her." "Cindy!" But Cindy stood up, dried her face with her hands and made a grimace when she saw her own hand darkened by smears of tears and makeup. "Man, I must look awful. I need a shower. Thanks, Dad. Talking to you really helped." Bewildered, John saw his daughter leave, her long legs taking her determined self to her room. He sighed, his guilt receding to the back of his mind. After all, he had not been the cause of his daughter's violent reaction... Or maybe he was, but only partly... She had been raped, a second time... Society usually blames the victim just because she likes to use sexy clothing... but... that is not right, not right at all. John returned to the present. Someone had knocked at his study's door. "Yes?" "It's me, Dad," said Cindy's voice from the hall. "Can I come in?" "Sure, honey." Cindy grinned at him and his heart melted. His daughter was so sexy when she smiled, as two mischievous dimples appeared on each corner of her lovely, sexy mouth. After closing the door behind her, she scuttled toward him and embraced him. "Oh Dad, I'm so happy. I'm gonna keep the baby. I am." John turned his swivel chair so that she could sit on his lap. "Are you sure?" "Yes, I am. I've never been so sure in my life. I'm gonna stop drinking and stop smoking. I want him, or her, to be perfect. It's gonna be great. Oh, Dad, you're gonna be a dad once again, isn't that a riot?" Cindy's elation about having their baby and her sexy body against his was leaving him agitated once more. John felt his cock twitch in his pants, becoming turgid. As Cindy was wearing only a skin-tight short shorts, she seemed to detect his boner in no time. Cindy looked down at his crotch and said, "Hey, am I turning you on again?" "Cindy, you always turn me on." "Do I?" she said, her grin becoming wider and wilder. "Yes," he huffed, his voice hoarse with lust for his own daughter. "I find that..." she began, rotating so that she could face him and grasp her father's face with her hands. John felt her crotch touching his, grinding her pudenda against his cock. "I find that so fucking amazing." And she kissed him, slowly at first, and then faster, furiously sucking on his lips. "My own dad wants me. My own dad wants his little girl. ME! Fucking amazing." "Cindy, calm down or they'll hear us." "I don't fucking care." "No, Cindy..." he said, getting a firm grip on his daughter's arms. "It's not like that. I can go to jail because of this... if your mother finds out, if your sister finds out. Okay? DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" "I'm 20 years old, I'm an adult. It's not like you're raping me." "Yes, but this is..." "Incest? So what? Fuck 'em." And to make her point, she pressed her pussy against her father's groin. John could feel some humidity coming through his daughter's shorts. "She must be soaking wet," he thought, amazed by the reactions he could cause in his daughter's libido. "Oh Dad, fuck me," she whispered, letting her long hair down by removing the elastic band from her ponytail. "Fuck your little girl," she continued, with her eyes closed and pushing herself against her father's body in wild abandon. "Make me pregnant again, with your spunk, your sweet spunk... Yes, make your daughter pregnant." Oblivious to his daughter's paradoxical fantasy — he could not get her pregnant, again, as she was already pregnant by him —, John wished for some release, as his raging hard-on was becoming painful. He was scared, though. He looked constantly to the closed but unlocked door of his study. Someone could breeze in and catch them in an undeniably compromising position, even if both of them had their clothes on. Suddenly Cindy stopped her grinding and removed herself from his lap. She kneeled in front of him and tried to unbuckle his belt. "No, Cindy, we can get caught." "I don't fucking care." "No, Cindy." "What? You don't want me?" "No, I do, but we can't do it now, not here." "Okay, then I'll lock the fucking door." In a supple saunter she did just that and returned to her father with a huge, taunting grin. "Is that better?" "Yes," he said, breathing out deeply. "Yes, that's better, but still we can get caught." "Then they'll have to knock down the door and I don't think Mom or Clara can do that. So stop worrying, okay?" Cindy knelt in front of her father. "So, where was I?" she said with a malicious smile while her hands pushed down his erection trapped inside his pants. "Let's free your cock... because that look likes a major hard-on you have right there." Cindy unzipped his pants and John's body jerked up as his daughter rubbed his cock through the fabric of his stretched-out boxer shorts. "Oh Cindy, you do drive me crazy." "I do, don't I?" she said with a proud, impish grin. "Oh my, this is big!" she continued, holding her father's erection with her hand, after pulling down his shorts. And happily she began to pump her father's turgid, purple cock. John could only bite his lips so that he wouldn't moan. He shook as she took his cock and swallowed the head with eager enthusiasm. Cindy beat all her former lovers in expertise. Cindy was caring, loving, attentive — and that made the cock-sucking experience so special. He almost cried when she took more than half of his manhood in her mouth, sucking and sucking, without stopping. "Cindy..." he moaned. "Ohhh... you suck me so good, you're the best cocksucker I ever had." He shut his eyes, stretching his body, while his daughter pumped him with her hands and mouth. He caressed her long pitch-black hair, reveling in its silky feel. "Oh, Cindy... you drive me crazy." "Okay, but don't you dare come. I want you to come inside my pussy. Do you hear me?" "Yes, honey, whatever you say." The tables were turned. She was no longer his daughter. She was now a demanding lover, who laid a claim to him. And he was letting her, as he could not do otherwise, he repeated to himself. Sometimes she looked like a witch when she made love to him. Her eyes became bigger and wider, her mouth becoming blood red, as though she was a kind of a vampire who was drinking his blood. All of a sudden she stopped sucking him and pumped his cock faster, her hand becoming wet with his pre-cum. "I just love it when you start coming. I just can't help it." She spoke as of she was talking to his penis. Then she grinned and sighed. Standing up, Cindy unbuttoned her shorts, nimbly she pushed them down and stepped out of them. John pumped his own cock, which twitched in pleasure as he saw his daughter's soaking pussy completely naked just a few inches from him. On her mons, her black pubic hair had been carefully manicured into a vertical strip, making her even sexier to his eyes. "Come, Cindy... Come to Daddy." "Oh, Daddy..." she moaned, brushing her elegant, hot body against his erection. She kept whispering in his ear sweet things like her daddy was going to fuck her and that he was now her boyfriend. In meanwhile, she kept gliding her soaking pussy against his rock-hard, aching cock, teasing him. "You wanna fuck your own daughter?" Problem Child Ch 02 "Yes, baby... Yes," he mumbled with urgency. He needed to fuck her now or he'd burst. "So fuck her good, fuck her until you fill 'er up with your spunk, Daddy!" And then came heaven when he felt her pussy stretch open against the tip of his purple cock. Her wetness was literally dripping on his cock, something he had never experienced in his life. They were a perfect fit. He moaned when she pushed an inch down, impaling herself on his erection. John couldn't believe that it was possible to experience such an amount of pleasure — and on top of that by fucking his own daughter. Crazy with passion, he kissed her cleavage, feeling her breasts, which had become slightly bigger than since a couple of weeks, probably due to her pregnancy. "Fuck your daughter, make her pregnant. Oh Daddy, you're so good to me. Better than any other man." John looked at his daughter. Cindy's eyes were closed, enjoying the moment, giving herself to him, completely, unlike any lover he'd ever had. Slowly, he began to fuck her dripping hole, which caused his daughter to bite her lower lip as though she wanted to stifle any moaning. They were both covered with sweat, but he didn't mind. He liked his daughter's sexy musk. His cock was slick with her love dew, which magnified all the pleasure he felt every time he thrust inside her. "Harder, Daddy. Harder. Make me come. I want you to come in my pussy. I want to have your baby." With a dreamy expression in her pretty face, her eyes half-shut, she smiled at him, and tenderly kissed him, driving his hands onto her breasts. She whispered, "Touch me, touch me... I'm yours... forever... You earned it." The moment she whispered these words he began to come, spurting inside her pussy gobs of hot sperm. "Ohhh, Daddy... Yes, fill me up. Oh, yes..." Her pussy clenched around his cock as she was hit by an overwhelming orgasm. They kept kissing, his cock still inside his daughter's pussy. "Oh, Dad, you're so good. Every time a guy fucked me, he'd immediately roll over to the side and light a smoke. You're not like that. You stay hard and you listen to me. I love you. I love you. I love you so much." And she kept pumping herself, preventing his erection from deflating. They kept holding each other in that intimate position until they heard a hard knock at the door. (Teasers: So, is Cindy going to have John's baby, her own father? Will the baby's paternity ever become known? Will Clara or Marcie catch him fucking his own daughter? Will Clara join them in a familial threesome? Or is he going to jail after being ratted out by Marcie? And most of all, how was John and Cindy's first time? If you want to know the answer to these questions, let me know! Thanks!) Problem Child (to be continued, let me know if you are interested, thanks!)