28 comments/ 130259 views/ 51 favorites Kidnapped Daughter??? By: scouries Christmas 2005 "Hi, it's me," I heard pouted down the line. "Ohhhh, great," I replied facetiously back to my daughter. "What?" the little bitch croaked, although I immediately realized I couldn't fairly describe my daughter as little anymore. "Nothing...nothing. What do you want anyway?" "It's almost Christmas," my twenty-three year old daughter started. So fucking what, I thought. Surely she doesn't think she can get any more blood out of her old man. "You're Jewish." "Just part. Gram invited me to spend Christmas with her...in Miami." "My mother invited you?" I asked incredulously. "Yes daddy, my Grandmother! Mommy's going to France with Jean-Pierre for the holidays. I've got twelve days off with the weekends and the holidays so I thought I'd come down. I'm tired." "From shopping?" "Ha...ha. You're so funny." "You're not planning on staying with me are you?" "Nooo father!" she sneered. "I wouldn't want to disturb the great man...even if it is Christmas...a time when most families get together..." I heard her whooshing intake of her breath twelve hundred miles away when I simply said, "Fuck off Patricia." "What," she finally stammered. "We're adults now. Can't we just cut the crap? I don't need this bullshit anymore. You're supposed to be a mature woman now...a doctor for Christ's sake." The normal steel was back in her voice when she snapped back, "Well screw you too. I'm only calling because grams asked me to...she wanted her little boy told, poor baby." "Patricia," I warned. "The hell with you. Anyway I'll be at grams condo from the twenty-third until the third. You can spend the holidays in Cuba with your friend Fidel for all I care," she said as she slammed down the phone in my ear. ~~~~~~~~ I was shaking as I tried to put the phone back in its cradle. She still had the ability to piss me off. Hardly without even trying. God, it's been almost ten fucking years since her mother walked out on me, I thought, taking Patty and my happiness with her. ~~~~~~~~ "Hi mom," I said ominously when my mother answered he phone. "Jimmy, how nice," she sang back at me. "Did you hear the good news? About Patricia coming down for the holidays?" "She called me mom." "Isn't it nice?" "She should be taken out and shot. Or guillotined. Put her out of her misery." "That's a terrible thing for a father to say. You've got to try honey," she begged. "Did you hear the latest? About her chosen medical specialty?" "She wants to be a surgeon," mom protested, "There's nothing wrong with that." "YEAH! A bloody plastic surgeon! Nose jobs and tummy tucks for the rich and famous. Breast implants. Christ, knowing her she'll end up doing vaginal reconstructions. It's new, it's called Labiaplasty, apparently it creates aesthetically pleasing outer genital structures, rumor has it that it's all the rage in certain quarters." "Jimmy!" mom said laughing. "Or hymenoplasty...you can imagine what that does." "There's no such thing!" "There is. Twenty grand and you're a virgin again," I shouted. "She may end up helping the poor, the needy; in Africa...people who've been in accidents, people with genetic disfigurements," mom protested. "She might even go to South America...to the Amazon...to where we've practiced," she said wistfully. "The poor won't pay for the polo ponies, or the cashmere dresses, or the caviar and champagne," I said harshly. "She's still young honey...maybe...oh, I just wish that awful woman hadn't got custody," she wailed. The two of us were in one hundred percent agreement about my ex and the way she lived her life and raised my daughter. Only much of the blame my mother apportioned was now laid squarely on my doorstep for marrying her in the first place. "Please Jimmy...if we try...you've got to talk to her...we're the only people in her world who have any sense at all. Any social responsibility." "She hasn't said ten kind words to me since she was sixteen," I yelled, then quickly apologized, "sorry ma. She even gets us arguing." "Still, I'm going to try, we'll have ten days," she insisted as she hung up. Mom was always ready to try, to give someone the benefit of the doubt, to help the poor, the needy, the... ~~~~~~~~~ I'd spent the first fifteen years of my life on a commune. Mom, the daughter of one of New York's richest Jewish families, had just finished her medical degree at Columbia when she discovered sex, marijuana, Buddhism and Marx the summer before her residency was to begin. She ended up pregnant with yours truly on a farm commune in the hills of Tennessee. It was never clear who fathered me. Reagan was President. Being rich was in. Taxes were cut. Conspicuous consumption was good! Trickle down and all that. Ma had become a hippie twenty years too late. She ended up doctoring to the hill country poor while living with her left wing friends on the commune. Then, after I'd left for University, she went and spent three years deep in the Amazon jungle ministering to the native tribes. She worked out of a small Catholic school and mission that tried to serve a ten thousand square mile area deep in the rainforest. Since then she'd been bouncing back and forth between Miami and the jungle. Meanwhile I, a young premed student at Harvard in Boston, unfortunately met Miss Rebecca Marie Cooperman, a dazzling young coed studying fine arts at Bryn Mawr. I fell in love. What a fucking jerk. My brain was in my dick! And I really had no excuse. Shit, growing up like I did, on a commune, with the ever present nudity and free sex, I wasn't some innocent university freshman smelling his first cunt. I'd lost my virginity at fourteen and had sampled enough women that even Becky Cooperman and her perfect tits shouldn't have turned my head. Just another roll in the hay. Except we two, who had diametrically different views on virtually everything, smashed passionately together in a rutting dance of lust and love. Before either of us knew what was happening we were in love, then married, and then finally parents of beautiful Patricia Ellie Scouries before either of us had hit twenty-one. My wife's parents, upper class gits, didn't take to their new son, even though I was a 'Harvard' boy. And my mom hated everything about them. Rebecca and I spent the next twelve years trying to change each other. An impossible task as it turned out. When Patty was thirteen her mom finally decided I'd never change. So she went home to her parents and their million dollar apartment on Central Park in New York and their summer home in the Hampton's. And then she dedicated herself into turning her daughter into a carbon copy of herself. A stuck up rich bitch! Every second weekend after the breakup I'd attempted to reverse some of the worst of her mother's lessons. Perhaps it wasn't fair to a young teenager. Maybe I wasn't a perfect father in those days. But when you love someone so much its hard not to try to save her from banality, and greed, and stupidity and..... And even at thirteen or fourteen there was no doubt, my daughter was smart. In fact a near genius. It petrified me that she was destined to become nothing more than a smart shopper...a boutique beauty...an upper class twit... She had the ability to do so much more. ~~~~~~~~ "I don't want to come here any more." "What?" "Weekends...or in the summer...or at Thanksgiving or Easter." "What are you talking about?" I asked my sixteen year old daughter. It had been a difficult two and a half years for both of us since she'd left with her mom. "You don't think like us...like mommy and me. Or grampa Cooperman. You're so..." she trailed off, her nose in the air, her teenage disdain for me clear. "Well little girl, like it or lump it, you're stuck. Your mom and I have a court ordered deal. Somebody's got to try and knock a little sense into your fat head." "Why? Just because I like nice things," she yelled. "Wake up daddy, we live in America. We're almost in the twenty-first century. I'm missing my riding lessons because of this." My palm was within six inches of Patty's cheek before I finally brought it under control. "Hit me daddy, c'mon, hit me," she screamed, spittle flying from her mouth.. "Look at you...you're dressed like a slut," I yelled back, a fury I'd felt building for over two years boiling close to the surface. "I should have put you over my knee and given you a thrashing years ago." "God, I thought all you hippy do-gooders didn't believe in hitting anybody," she sneered. "Go to your room," I ordered. "Fuck you...you're probably not even my father anyway." For just a second I saw a regret for her words reflected in her eyes, but then the coldness descended again and she added, "I not coming here anymore." "We'll see...maybe we do need a break...let me talk to your mom...you're going to university soon anyway," I answered wearily as another piece of my heart broke. "No," she insisted, and sensing she'd won she stuck in the knife a final time, "I'll tell them you touched me...my breasts...that you looked at me when I was showering... that I'm afraid you're going" SPLATTTT. Patty bounced backward from the blow. Lay stunned on the floor as blood started to trickle from her nose. "GET OUT! NOWWWW!" I screamed as I lifted her and marched her towards the door. "If you're so fucking smart then go and find your goddam father." I threw her purse and overnight bag out the door after her. And then proceeded to get drunk. A month later I packed up and moved to Miami. Then went to Brazil and spent two years doctoring among the backcountry natives with my mother. I didn't see or hear from my daughter again for over two years. Fuck her! Yet she never left my dreams. A near genius, Patty was halfway through medical school when I returned from the Amazon. Our only contact during that time had been a bi weekly letter I religiously composed and sent her. She never wrote back. And she'd changed her last name from Scouries to Cooperman while I'd been away. ~~~~~~~~~ I'd opened a small medical clinic in Miami when I'd returned from Brazil and both my mother and I tried to deliver basic medical services to the poor immigrant community, both legal and illegal, a community whose members increasingly were going without health care while living in the richest country in the world. Jobs in South Florida's economy increasingly came without even rudimentary health coverage for its workers. And during these last four years there had been some tentative attempts at contact between my daughter and I, most orchestrated by my mother who'd never totally lost contact with her only grandchild. Patty had even slowly shown some grudging respect for the woman in whose medical footsteps she was walking. My mom was too tough to let Patty get away with anything but even when they argued Patty always saw the love behind the words. With Patty and me it was tougher. It seemed as though each of us wanted to inflict as much damage to the other as we could. Lash out first seemed to be both our mottos. There was a volatility to our rare encounters that I think frightened us both. ~~~~~~~~ We celebrated both Christmas and Hanukkah in our family, although neither mom nor I had ever been particularly religious. Christmas we'd inherited from the Cooperman's and so I found myself sitting across the dinner table from my girl in mom's condo on the twenty-fifth. Patty gave me a beautiful cashmere sweater as a gift; she got a simple native wood carving from me. We were both trying to control ourselves in front of my mom. It was weird, watching her sitting across from me, this monster of pettiness, of conspicuous consumption, because in so many ways she was hard not to like. She'd turned into a beautiful woman. Taller than either her mom or grandma, her five ten, broad shouldered body was softened by the flowing, silky black hair that cascaded down her back almost to her bum. Although her height and black hair had been inherited from me, her twinkling bright eyes had come directly from her always smiling grandma. Her firm, full breasts were all her mothers and they stood proudly even while braless under the black, silk cocktail dress that adorned her curves. There was a sleek new sexiness to my daughter that I'd never registered before. Her long, creamy smooth legs were just highlighted even more by the black silk that rose provocatively up her thighs as she sat on the couch facing me after we'd eaten. She was wearing white lace panties. Casually made sure I saw them. As my cock trembled in anticipation under my pants I became aware for the first time just how arousing my little girl had become. The three of us had a relatively enjoyable evening, Patty's grandma intervening and refereeing when either of us threatened to cross the line into outright hostility. Looking back, I'm pretty sure that Patty's next question to me that night had been orchestrated between the women before I'd arrived. For my mom it had just been another step forward in her campaign to reunite father and daughter. For Patty it must have been much more complicated. "Will you take me out on your boat?" she asked as the evening drew to a close. "Oh, that's a wonderful idea," mom enthused as I fumed silently. "Tomorrow?" Patty asked in an insistent tone. Of course I finally acquiesced to the two women's desire. ~~~~~~~~ "Seeing you don't seem to want to talk, I think I'll just tan. Is that okay with you?" she shouted angrily after we'd been underway for fifteen minutes, slicing outward and away from the marina. "I'm so sorry sweetie. I'm just not up on the latest from Gucci. Or the polo results. Or Paris Hilton's latest lover. I know, I know, I should have read the gossip and fashion magazines when I heard you were coming." "Fuck you," she said as she undid her bikini top and threw it down on the bench beside her. "I'm a goddam doctor." "Graduated from fucking Harvard." "At the top of my goddam class." "Youngest graduate in twenty years." "Accepted as a resident in New York's best hospital," she yelled over the hum of the motor, ticking off each point with another extended finger. "And where was my father through all this? His feelings are hurt because his daughter doesn't want to save the world. He's mad because his hard working daughter enjoys, yes enjoys daddy, some of the good things in life. Once in a while she likes going to a show on Broadway, or likes to have a dinner at a fine restaurant with friends." I couldn't help but notice her heaving breasts as she vented her anger. They stood proudly, high, firm pointed cones that were only highlighted by her height and strong, wide shoulders. Capped by puffy, dark pink areolas and thick, almost impossibly long nipples. "Yeah, that's why this perfect princess is going to use her god given abilities to do tummy tucks, and nose jobs, and probably even labiaplasty's for her stupid rich friends who tramp around the city like whores." "Half the people on the planet don't have even rudimentary health care and Miss Harvard's going to be a liposuction expert. A botox inserter," I scoffed. "Shut up and drive the boat you prick," she yelled back. "Where are we going anyway?" "Who cares?" I asked as I slowed the boat. "What're those anyway?" she asked pointing at the Stiltsville houses that seemed to be standing on top of the water a mile across the bay. "Can we tie up at one," she asked after I'd explained the history of this ocean village. After we'd docked at one of the deserted houses Patty rose from her seat and dove into the turquoise waters of the Gulf Stream. Then she simply stripped the wet panties from her loins when she finally emerged dripping from the sea. Her dark, long, thick, rich pubic pelt was a perfectly trimmed triangle that drew my eyes towards her sex. "You're not going to swim?" she asked as she sat on the gunwale of the boat, watching me as I sipped a cold beer. Her knees were immodestly spread, making the inner pinkness of her sex visible through her fur. "Later. Did you put on sun screen?" I asked. "You'll burn," I warned when she shook her head no. "I forgot to bring it." "You're as pale as a ghost." "That's because I work so hard," she answered with a wry grin. "I've got some," I offered, not wanting to rejoin our argument, then jumped down into the cabin and quickly reemerged with a tube of Hawaiian Tropic. "Here." "You do it," she ordered as she stretched sinuously, then turned and offered her back as she slowly toweled dry her hair. "At least you're in shape," I grudgingly admitted as my fingers worked the lotion into her back and down across her well shaped thighs and calves. Her ass was firm and high. "I run...exercise..." "Fucking dressage or something to do with horses," I said as I gave her a light slap on her left butt. "Screw you daddy," she complained with a smile, then turned and presented her breasts and sex to me. "You turned out pretty good looking too," I said as my eyes slid up and down her curves. "Genetics...with mom and gram I was fated to be pretty," she answered, almost a tone of complaint in her voice. "Better than being ugly my dear," I replied, my sun screen coated hands moving now over her high, firm breasts. "And I got your hair," she added as shook her hair, making her silky black curls dance over her shoulders and down over her breasts. "You're prettier than both of them," I added, my eyes traveling up and down her sinuous curves, then gently moved the soft hair away from her breasts. "Did you just give me a compliment? James Scouries finally said something nice to his only child. " "Look who's talking. And for a girl with such a supposedly brilliant memory you seem to have conveniently forgotten your first thirteen years of life. " "I remember daddy, I was so happy when I was young... before you and mommy started to argue," she said softly. Even as I argued with her I couldn't help but notice that her nipples were like hard pebbles under my caressing fingers. That I suddenly yearned to take them between my lips. "Your hands are soft...gentle," she added watching them as they descended across her stomach. "Christ, at least you haven't shaved every hair off your body like all your panty-less celebrity friends seem to be doing these days," I added, trying to clear the image of me sucking my daughter's nipples out of my mind. She laughed as she arched her body against my fingers and said, "I guarantee you won't see my pubes displayed on the internet." "Do you have a boyfriend?" I asked, one of the first civil questions I'd asked her in ten years. "Too many," she sighed. "I think I also inherited my sex drive from you and grandma," she added ruefully. "What's that mean?" I groused, ready to be angry again. "Mom refers to gram as 'that naked old hippy who can't keep her legs together'," Patty said with a grin. "That bitch," I muttered. "And she has some choice words about you too," my daughter added, laughing now. "She claims it's my Scouries blood that's turned me into such a slut. That you were never able to keep your zipper up." "I thought you'd decided I wasn't your father?" I asked, still hurt from her long ago accusation. "Oh, you're my daddy," she admitted, "even if you are a horny and mean old man." "Your mother doesn't have a brain in her head. Christ, she calls you a slut?" "I like it...sex...a lot," she said abruptly, a wistful tone in her voice. "It's your fault anyway," she said accusingly. "Mine?" "Uh huh. It was weird...I was fifteen, sixteen...I discovered sex...men." "Everyone does." "I know," she said angrily. "But then I started to want you." Kidnapped Daughter??? "What? That's bullshit." "I looked forward to my weekends with you. Dressed like a little slut. Let you see me naked by accident. You were my first crush. You didn't even notice." "But...jesus, you were just a girl...my daughter," I protested. "I didn't understand then." "Is that where all that crap came from?" I asked, remembering again the threat my sixteen year old daughter had made. "Yes...maybe...I don't know. I wanted a man so bad. You. You called me a slut that day," she said as we both remembered the day I'd hit her. "You wanted to spank me. Remember?" she asked. "I should have," I grumbled. "Spank me now daddy," she asked, getting down on her knees between my legs. "Stop it," I warned, aware of the sudden rush of blood to my penis. "Or what?" she challenged. "You always wanted to spank me...when I was bad." "You're crazy... I just said that...once... when I was mad." "I wanted you to. I wanted you to put me across your knees and spank me...it excited me," she said as she pushed me back against the edge of the boats wide, bench seat. I sat. Her engorged sex was inches from my eyes as she stood up between my knees. She lay across my lap. "I'm still bad," she lured. "Patty!" I begged hoarsely, my mouth suddenly dry. "Please," she whined. "You love it, don't you? Pissing me off." "Yes. Spank me," she asked again, wriggling her bum in my face. "You're an adult." "Hit me." Slap. "I didn't even feel it," she complained looking back over her shoulder at me, a mischievous look in her eye. "I've been bad. Punish Patty, make me cry." "God, you're a little bitch." SLAP...SLAP...SLAP. Three quick hits in succession, just hard enough to sting. I realized I liked doing it. Her bum was firm but oh so soft. I let my fingers linger after every slap. "I thought you were strong," she mocked. "Make my bare bum pink," she demanded. "Harder...harder," she ordered as my blows started to rain down. I knew she could feel my erection through my bathing suit. Suddenly wanted her to. Knew I wanted to fuck her. My own daughter. "There," I finally panted, pushing her off my lap and onto her knees between my legs, embarrassed at what I'd done but with my erection tenting outward in my bathing suit. "My turn," she whispered as her hands grasped the top of my suit and slowly pulled it down. "Don't Patty," I begged softly as my shaft jumped up and hard against my stomach. "Oh my gawwwwd," my daughter intoned as her hand snaked out and grasped my throbbing erection, "No wonder." "No wonder what?" I asked as I watched her fingers moved urgently on my cock. "Why mommy lasted thirteen years with you. You're ...huge! I knew it," she exclaimed. I wanted to push her away. Wanted to hate this feeling that exploded inside of me. "Oh Baybeeee," I simply groaned as her tongue found the underside of my cock and licked upwards from its base to its head. Moved a hand to the back of my daughters head after she'd popped my cockhead between her lips. I finally pushed her off me, then watched as she lay down on her back between my legs and spread her engorged sex with her hands. My cock, covered with Patty's saliva, was a rampant, mindless pole demanding only one thing. "Fuck me!" she ordered as I slid down between her legs. I did. Just lifted her ass in my strong hands and pulled her towards my thrusting cock. It was just sex. Great sex yes. Extraordinary in fact. Thirteen years of hate and love exploded between us as my cock filled her stretching, grasping cunt time after time. "Oh fuck daddy," she screamed as her first liquid orgasm erupted from her centre after just a minute of deep cocking. Seconds later I prematurely started to spew inside my grunting, crying daughters cave. "Jesus...oh jesus," I moaned as I shot strand after strand of hot cum towards Patty's womb. We both watched each others eyes as I lay panting heavily on top of her after I'd come, and then I slowly felt her vagina clench even more tightly on the thick shaft still hard inside of her. "More," she simply demanded as her ankles locked around my back. "Baby," I groaned as I drove again and again into her female perfection. We lasted longer the second time, each of us quickly falling into a rhythm with the other, continuously matching the other in a symphony of demanding lust. We came together in a grand finale, our animalistic roars of gratification carried away across the water as I filled her again. Almost dazed I pulled out my sticky cock and stood, and then looking down from above and with a last drop of semen falling from my cockhead onto her stomach, I watched as my flood of my cum seeped from between Patty's legs and oozed down her thighs and onto the floor of the boat. I watched her as she turned over and crawled towards the bench seat, watched as she climbed up and knelt with her still pink bum in the air waving invitingly back towards me. Saw the sperm sticky in her crack. "More daddy," she demanded as she looked back over her shoulder at me. She was sopping, her pussy open wide when I pushed into her from behind, pulling her hips back towards me even as I thrust. I grabbed her tits, then squeezed them and stretched her long nipples as I pounded back and forth with my pulsating, throbbing cock. "Harder...deeper daddy," she pled as her insides spasm-ed moistly around my invading, bucking maleness. I finally pulled out, watched as my dripping prick slowly softened and fell half limp between my legs. She sat down on the bench and just stared at the disappearing organ "C'mon, you better get dressed, it's late, we gotta get going," I told Patty when I finally pulled my bathing suit up my legs. "Can't we stay here for a while longer...maybe overnight?" she asked as one of her arms circled my legs and tried to pull me towards her. "It gets dark early...we've got to get back, it can be dangerous out here," I answered, shuffling backwards towards the steering wheel. As I untied the boat from the dock and then started the engine I watched her, sitting naked on the bench, her knees spread wide, my sperm still oozing from between her legs and lying stickily everywhere on her thighs and stomach and breasts. Unhurriedly she dipped a finger inside herself and then brought her cum laden big finger to her mouth and pushed it between her lips. "C'mon, get dressed," I cajoled as her pink tongue flicked out, "we'll be meeting other boats as soon as we enter the channel." Languidly she rose and approached me. Then standing between the steering wheel and me, she eased my suit down my thighs as I sat immobile in the captain's chair, again releasing my cock. Then put her finger inside herself again and then pushed its juice covered end into my mouth. "Taste me," she whispered in my ear as she climbed into my lap and straddled me. "We have time," she said as she directed my cock into her dripping cunt as she lowered herself over it. We just hugged each other, letting the continual slap of the waves against the speeding hull do the work for us. Each time the thirty foot sportsman crashed down on a wave my prick was stuffed even deeper inside my girl. Again and again as we raced across the bay we smashed together. It became almost too painful as our orgasms approached. We were both crying (from the wind in our faces?) as my cum exploded upwards and bubbled into her center. She was still naked, dripping sperm onto my thighs as we approached the Miami Beach Marina. ~~~~~~ We didn't talk as I drove her towards her grandmother's condo at the tip of South Beach. Sex was easier than words for both of us. "Wait for me," Patty ordered as she jumped from the car when I stopped in front of the highrise. "What?" I asked, hoping she meant what I wanted. "I'm here for another week daddy. You're not getting rid of me that fast," she said as she looked down at me in the car. "Good." ~~~~~~~~~~ "What did mom say?" I asked when Patty reappeared with her suitcase. "She's all excited. Thinks this may be the first step in our reconciliation. I told her I finally got you to talk to me a bit. That you were angry, hateful...your usual stupid male self...but that at least we talked. That I embarrassed you into putting me up for a few days," she said, laughing as she jumped into the car. "I told her I was going to take you on a shopping expedition to Bal Harbor, that I'd teach you to shop," she said giggling. "That must have impressed her." "I let her tell me all about her years in the jungle last night; I oohed and aahed at all the right places." "You'll try to manipulate anyone, won't you?" I accused "Look who's talking! She told me to listen to you...that I can't just live my life for my own pleasure...the same old Scouries 'help the world' crap," Patty said as her fingers found my hard-on through my shorts. "You are a little slut." "What? You wanted me to tell her we spent the afternoon fucking?" she asked as she lowered my zipper and freed my manhood. ~~~~~~~~ We made love for the first time later that night. It's hard to easily explain the difference between what we'd done on the boat and what we did in my bed. The difference between sex and making love. Love? A feeling? An approach? There was still thrust and counterthrust. Still our needs, her orgasmic juice, my sticky sperm. But...it was different. It was good. There were caresses. Kisses. Soft kisses. Hungry bites. Hugs. Tears. Anger still. Accusations. We started the slow process of accepting the other. Of acknowledging that we wanted to be in each others life. The sex was just the first step, the easy part. We knew we had ten days together. Ten days to start to know the other. We hesitantly, reluctantly tried to talk. Small bits of conversation between bouts of physical loving. We slowly traded secrets. Tried to become friends. ~~~~~~~ "It doesn't bother you," she asked one afternoon as we lay entwined on the balcony overlooking the beach. "No," I answered quickly, understanding her question. "Me neither. I know it should. Everyone says its wrong...a father and his daughter." "It's just sex." "I know. I feel the same. I'm not ashamed. Maybe it's because we're doctors...we understand anatomy... it's just a process. Or maybe it's because we've both had so many partners. We're jaded." "No, it's that we both love sex. We're good together," I answered seriously. "I've never..." "Never what?" "Nothing. It's also better than being completely without you. I want more...but if this is all you'll give," I whispered as I moved my hand over her bush and then slipped a fat finger inside her. "Me?" "Uh huh." "You missed me?" she asked and then let out a long groaning wail as a second finger filled her. "You never answered one letter...for years." "I read them," she whispered. "And there's at least one part of you that I'm in love with," she added with a leer, her hand closing around my fat shaft. "Is there?" "I'll show you," she promised, her moist lips dipping towards my urgent need. ~~~~~~~~ "I'm a virgin...there," she said feeling my soapy finger lightly brush her anus. "I want you to be first," she added when I didn't answer her comment. "I'm too big, besides I prefer your little pussy," I said as I slipped my finger down her ass crack and then up and into her cunt. "I want it to be you," she insisted as she moved her soapy, pointed breasts against my chest. She shrieked when, five minutes later, I pushed my lubricated cock into her bum, cried, then moaned as I reamed her cute, tight ass. Cried in pleasure and pain as I fucked through her tight anal ring as my hands squeezed her tits and manipulated her clit. "Ohhh Dadddddy," she finally groaned in ecstasy as her bum was flooded with warm cum for the first time. ~~~~~~~ "I'm going to get married," Patty suddenly blurted one morning as we lay in bed, telling me even as my cock was thrusting inside her moist, clenching sleeve of sex. "Do I know him?" "You'll hate him. So will grams," she answered as her ankles locked together around my back. "Why?" I demanded as I continued to slam between her legs. "Later...oh pleeeasss...yessssss," she screamed as a first hot rope of semen erupted inside her quivering channel. ~~~~~~~~ "He's rich. Good looking," she started as we lay panting on our backs minutes later. "Harvard Law. His daddy's a titan of finance, Wall Street. Worth millions...probably hundreds of millions." "You should marry his old man if he's got the money." "Chris, Christopher Jones-Smith IV, that's his name by the way, is tall, blond...kind," she said even as her fingers lightly moved over my again throbbing sex. "A great lover...a good athlete," my daughter continued to enthuse. "A big yummy cock," she said, her eyes locked on mine as she ran her tongue up my straining shaft. "So when's the big date?" "I haven't told him yet," she giggled, then engulfed my cockhead between her moist lips. Swallowed me. Finally pulled away from my erupting prick when her mouth was overflowing with jism. Kissed me with open mouth, pushing my cum back into me even as my cock continued to buck up more creamy sauce. ~~~~~~~~ I'd eat my little girl. For minute after minute until she was writhing under my tongue, then I'd lick her as her sweet sex juices spewed out and over my tongue. Then, as she lay spent on her back, her engorged, flowered sex open, I'd mount her, fill her with my throbbing manhood, fill her with my seed. ~~~~~~~~ "We'll never do this again...you know that don't you daddy?" she asked as we lay in bed fucking three hours before her plane was scheduled to leave. "It was better than nothing." "Maybe we can talk sometimes...you know, phone...or you can write...or e-mail me," Patty stammered, a plea in her eyes. "I might even answer your letters," she promised. "Between cocktail parties and shopping sprees?" I asked but she heard the small smile in my voice. "You'll visit?" "I don't know...you'll overwhelm me...I'll want you again...no, I won't come...not for awhile," she said in sadness. "I might just come for you," I warned. "Don't daddy...please," she begged as I sent my last load of seed deep inside her ~~~~~~~~ "I'm engaged," I heard down the line a couple of days after Easter. "Are you?" "A huuuuggggge diamond," she laughed. "We're getting married next Christmas...at their winter home in Palm Beach." "Do they know your father's a radical do-gooder?" "Chris wants to meet you," she laughed. "I told him not yet...that you have to be approached carefully." "Ha, ha." "Mommy doesn't think he should ever meet you. She thinks you should be banned from the wedding." "The bitch! She probably wants Jean-Pierre to give you away." "You'll be there daddy. Won't you?" "You think I'd miss my chance to mix with the rich and famous? To meet Donald Trump. Miss Hilton? Are panties going to be mandatory for the bridesmaids?" "Yes...to protect them from you," Patty joked back. Then, "The President's father is coming." "Great...maybe we can all go out and play golf at the Polo Club. Or maybe the Everglades Club." "Do you have any clubs Daddy?" "One I'm saving for only you sweetheart," I warned. "I'll be married." "We'll see," I said ominously. "I've missed you...I love you daddy," she whispered before hanging up. "I bet," I answered to the dead line. ~~~~~~~~ "So?" "You were right." "I was?" "Yes, I do hate him," I told Patty as we stood at the gate that led to the plane that was taking her and her husband to-be back to New York. "I knew it," she said merrily, "gram doesn't like him either." Patty and Mr. Wonderful had spent the Labor Day long weekend visiting gram and I in Miami. He was good looking, friendly, smart, a good conversationalist, rich, polite, interesting. Most fathers would have welcomed him with open arms. I wanted to drown the prick...might have if my daughter hadn't watched my every move and had never let her hubby-to-be alone for a second with her old man. A lawyer, he was a twenty-seven year old 'Wealth Management Executive', already a V.P., at Goldman Sachs. How this pretty boy Wasp ended up there was beyond me. It had been an uneventful three days. Except that is for Saturday night. Chris got drunk. I pretended I was matching pretty boy drink for drink as we partied on South Beach. Patty and I finally got him home around one a.m. I helped her undress her passed out beau in spite of her protests. Saw his prick lying small and flaccid on his thigh. "You better go now," she tried to order but I could see the need in her eyes. So I simply lifted her and carried her to my room and bed. "We can't," she protested as I slipped her dress from her shoulders, baring the tits I'd been dreaming of for nine months. Ripped the red, silk boyshorts from her loins. "Dadddddy! Please. No daddy," she continued to protest as I pulled my shirt roughly over my head, then undid my belt and zipper and let my pants slide down my legs. "Oh god," she moaned as her eyes hungrily took in my rampant pole. She fell back on the bed when I pushed her gently, then lay watching, legs spread as I climbed up between her legs. Moaned when I pushed my hardness into her waiting, already moist and aroused centre. Chris was forgotten as I fucked my girl, and it was only the depth of his drunkenness that allowed him to sleep through the orgasmic cries that echoed loudly through the house for the next four hours. Six times I came, twice in her vagina, then fucked her tits, then let her swallow me, her ass, then finally again her cunt. We were like rutting animals, oblivious to everything but our satisfaction. Patty finally slipped back to join Chris around dawn, slept next to him with her fathers cum sticky on her everywhere. And then they were leaving to go home. But as I watched her walk away from me towards her waiting beau in the dimly lit airport, I knew I'd never let her marry him. A plan started to grow in my mind. Patricia Ellie Cooperman would be going on a trip with her father, I thought, smiling as the two disappeared through the gate. Xmas 2006 "Are you ready?" I asked my beautifully gowned daughter. "Daddy," she squealed when she saw me, then put her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. "What?" I growled. "Nothing," she giggled as she ran her eyes up and down my elegantly clad body. My perfectly coifed hair. "I never thought I'd get you dressed up like that." "Christ, you chose it," I grumbled. "Now c'mon, let's get this show on the road." "We don't have to be at the church for forty-five minutes, it's only ten minutes away," my daughter protested. "Hell, the limos here, lets go for a ride," I said offering her my arm. ~~~~~~ "You surprised me daddy," Patty said as the car rolled away from the house. "How so?" "I just thought you'd never go along with all this." "You sound disappointed." "Maybe I am." "You didn't give me a lot of choice. You, your mom and the effing Jones-Smyth's didn't give me a lot of say in the proceedings. Show up and give your daughter away, those were the orders, weren't they?" "The great James Scourie just buckles under now does he?" she teased. "Where is that driver taking us anyway?" she asked as she looked out the window. We're going the wrong way." "We got lots of time." "Christopher really is a nice guy daddy; he'll make me a great husband," she said, but in a tone that indicated that even she wasn't convinced. "He's the son of a crook who's the son of a robber baron." "That's not fair....Why's this idiot turning in here...Driver, driver," she started to call impatiently while tapping on the glass that separated us from the front seat. Kidnapped Daughter??? "You gotta use the speaker phone thing...wherever it is," I instructed calmly as we drove through the open door of the hangar. "What is going on? Are you crazy?" Patty demanded imperiously at the man who opened the car door from the outside. "Put her in the plane," I ordered. "DADDY?" she asked while turning in confusion towards me. "You were right honey. About me. I wasn't going to let you marry that jerk." "You're not? Really?" she asked, disbelief evident in her voice. "But..." "Not today anyway. We're going for a little plane ride." ~~~~~~ "God daddy, you'll never get away with it. Chris's family have connections everywhere. The goddam Department of Homeland Security will be after you by tomorrow." "The Arabs," I said laughing. "What? What Arabs?" "The Saudis as it turns out my dear. Father murdered, American princess abducted by a Saudi prince...what a headline. You're going to be famous," I chuckled. "The kidnapped limousine driver will escape later today," I started. "You actually had the car stolen? The driver kidnapped?" she blurted out in amazement. "You're crazy." "An anonymous phone tip tomorrow will advise the FBI that the missing limo is at a small airport twenty minutes from the one we actually used. It'll be found in a small private hangar, my blood splayed across the back seat, a back seat that will be punctured by two bullet holes." "No one will ever believe that." "A hangar used exclusively by a private Saudi company that ferries Arab bigwigs from the Middle East to Palm Beach. And when the feds get around to examining the flight records they'll find that a plane left the airport at approximately the right time with the thirty-seventh in line to the Saudi throne on board." "Do you think the government will believe a millionaire Saudi prince has abducted an American from her wedding?" "Of course. We Americans will believe anything about the Arabs. And in this case the prince involved is actually quite an unsavory character. He's raped at least two girls on his most recent American sojourn. He'd be in jail right now if he wasn't who he is." "But our government will check." "Of course they will. And then the Saudis will deny it. We won't believe them but what are we going to do? Saudi oil against little Miss Cooperman. Even with yours influence it's no contest. Oh, they'll be some behind the scenes muttering but eventually they'll just write you off." "They won't." "Remember how George let the Saudi planes fly home after 9-11?" "But what'll happen when I reappear again in a week or so?" my befuddled daughter asked. "Oh, we'll think of something sweetie." "What about mum? And grandma...god, she'll have a heart attack." "Well, I did manage to whisper in your grandmother's ear just as she was leaving for the church that something...something interesting, might happen today. And that she shouldn't worry...everything would turn out okay," I finished. "I'm supposed to get married today. We're going to Maui...on our honeymoon...you can't..." "You'll still get your honeymoon, just not with pretty boy," I answered beaming proudly. "Where are we going?" "South." "South fucking where?" "Brazil." "Rio?" she asked. ~~~~~~~ "Who's he?" she asked five minutes later when a man came into the passenger cabin as our plane raced through the sky. "Father Pierre, we're giving him a ride to his posting in the Amazon. He's from France. An old friend of your grandmother and I." "Bonjour Mademoiselle Cooperman," the priest said as he stopped in front of my daughter. "I'm so happy for the two of you." "What?" Patty asked quizzically. "The good father has agreed to marry us...on the plane." "But you're my...we can't...it's impossible," my daughter stammered. "You're dressed for it," said as I offered her my hand and then lifted her to her feet. "My fiancée's nervous," I told the bemused priest in French. "It's always thus," he said shrugging his shoulders and then asked in halting English, "Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?" "Daddddddy! It won't count anyway. It won't," she insisted even as the priest asked me my question. "Of course my friend. I love her with all my heart," I said in French, smiling happily at my bride to be. "LIAR!" Patty spat out as Father Pierre pronounced us man and wife. My mouth swallowed her protest. ~~~~~~~~~ Patty, shaking her head, suddenly started to laugh five minutes later when I'd got her naked in the bedroom at the back of the plane. "What?" I asked, my cock standing hard and proud between our two bodies. "Nothing," she chuckled as she moved into my open arms. "C'mon, what's so funny?" I asked again as her hand found me. "I'm a virgin," my daughter said giggling. "Yeah right...a virgin bride." "I am. It was going to be a surprise. For Chris." "What?" "It was just a small operation," she said, and then finally understanding I started to laugh. "Little slut," I finally gasped. "Make me bleed daddy," my daughter pled as she fell back onto the bed, her new surgically inserted hymen ready to be torn asunder. "I'm going to give you my baby," I promised as I positioned my cockhead at her gates. "Will it hurt.....ahhhhhhh Daddddddddddddy," she cried as her warm, red blood coated my thrusting lance. THE END This is my last story of 2006 and would like to thank everyone who has taken the time to vote and comment on my stories this year. It's you kind readers that make it all worthwhile. Happy holidays to all of you and best wishes for 2007. Thanks, Jim.