4 comments/ 134016 views/ 27 favorites The Sins of the Father By: adam applebiter (sequel to In Camera) I'm a proud father and, like the rest of the guys I play golf with, I brag about how well my daughter's doing. "Oh yes, she got into Harvard you know... She's reading economics... Her mother and I are so proud, although we sometimes wish she were closer to home... They grow up so fast, don't they?" You know the sort of thing. What I'm really proud of -- what I can't tell the golf guys -- is that my little girl is likely to be the first prostitute in history to make the Fortune Five Hundred. Yes, I'm a sick puppy, but I am proud that Helen's earning up to a thousand dollars a night as an escort. Proud because, while every father thinks his daughter's beautiful, I know that a lot of wealthy men agree with me. Proud too because every father wants his children to be talented and Helen most definitely has a talent: She's the best sex I've ever had. My name is Parry and I fuck my daughter. A year ago, I was just another Dad with a kid at college and a wife at home. Things changed when Meg, my darling wife, started to lose interest in sex. That was when I started to rely more and more on Internet porn to get my kicks. I discovered the wonderful world of one-to-one web cam girls and was a happy masturbator for months until I strayed into one chat room and found my little girl flashing her crotch at me. That was the day my world changed. It could have gone one of two ways. In the end, it went in the direction of perversity, depravity and incest. I became Helen's most regular regular without ever identifying myself. I paid her thousands of dollars to perform for me while I jerked off, thinking she'd never know. On a visit home, she did find out because there were pics of her on my PC. Again, it could have gone either way. It went the way I'd fantasized about so many times -- Helen decided to seduce me. It wasn't exactly a seduction though. It's probably more accurate to say she blackmailed me into having sex with her. After that, it was easy to just carry on. It all got so intense that when she told me she'd started being an escort, I didn't even care that my daughter was whoring. Her word, not mine. Helen likes the coarse words. Anyway, that was all last year. Now, I'm on my way to Boston to pick up Helen and all her stuff. It's a long drive but my darling daughter thought of that, so I have several CD compilations she made for me -- to pass the time. "Hi Daddy. This is DJ Dirty Daughter cummin' at ya. And let me tell ya I'm lookin' forward to cummin' with ya in just a few hundred miles. So just to get you moving along that long lonely highway to Helen's heavenly haven, let's start with a classic driving song." "My Pappy said 'Son, you're gonna drive me to drinkin' If you don't stop drivin' that hot rod Lincoln. ..." It was good driving music but I recalled that Helen had first heard Commander Cody in a film called the Invisible Circus in which a college girl ends up seducing an older man. Last time it'd been played in this car, Helen was beside me with her shorts pushed down, rubbing herself in an attempt to make me crash the car. When the song finished, I was hard with the recollection of that other journey and the taste of Helen's secretions on her fingers. "Remember that one Daddy? I sure do. I think about your hot rod whenever I hear it. Here's a track that will always be our song." Papa's got a brand new bag. That had been my nickname in Helen's chat room. Yes, it's definitely our song. The tracks passed, the miles passed and the innuendo got less and less subtle. When Hendrix and Dylan finished F.Y.I.T.A. all I could hear on the CD was a loud buzzing. It took a few seconds before I made the connection. The buzzing grew fainter and Helen's husky, bedroom voice whispered. "Recognise that sound, Daddy? You should do. You bought it for me. Better put the pedal to the metal if you're gonna get here before the batteries run out." The buzzing got louder again and there was a theatrical moan in the background, then the next track cut in. "Driving all night, my hands wet on the wheel. Something inside of me, drives my heel. ..." And the miles rolled under my wheels as the music rolled out of the speakers, seasoned with increasingly provocative and explicit links from Helen. I had a boner three miles from home that was still testing Mr Levi Strauss' excellent stitching to the limit when I turned off the highway for the motel where I was to spend the first night. It was a two day journey each way to Boston and I'd only been talked into making the trip because the alternative was for Helen to drive a U-haul trailer, which she'd never done and claimed to be scared to try. At least, that's how the story went at home. The unmentioned up side to fetching Helen was the two nights we'd get to spend in motels, fucking each other's brains out. Which, by a strange coincidence, was exactly what I was daydreaming about in the shower in my motel room when the phone rang. "Hi Daddy, what took you so long?" She'd had to ring twice to get an answer. "I was in the shower, thinking about you." "Oh! Is it hard?" "What do you think?" "I think jerking off in the shower is what sad old men do and you should save it for tomorrow night. Especially as I've got a treat for you." There was a giggle in the background. "Who's giggling? What treat?" "B." B was Helen's roomie but also one of her lovers. Helen had told B about our relationship, much to my dismay, but the world hadn't ended so I'd come to assume B was cool about it. "And the treat?" "I've just told you, Daddy!" There was more giggling. "Oh... You mean...?" It dawned on me what Helen was getting at. "Yes Daddy. Tomorrow night you're gonna get to see all the girl on girl action you want and you'll get to fuck us both. Now isn't that a good reason to save it for tomorrow?" "Sweetheart, are you sure about this?" B may have heard about Helen and I but confirming it by demonstration was a different matter. "Of course I'm sure. Silly Daddy. I really really want to share someone I love with someone I love." Helen sounded sincere and, for a moment, quite sentimental. "Well, if you put it like that, how can I refuse?" "You can't refuse. You never can with me. Besides, you'll adore Honey B: she's gorgeous and very slutty." "Like you?" "Like me." Helen agreed. "But she's not a whore." "Are you whoring tonight?" A year of hearing about it had desensitised me to the coarse way Helen described her work. "Not tonight. We're having a girl's night in. Painting nails, shaving each others cunts..." Helen had taken to using the C word lately. It was all part of the "How degenerate can we get?" ethos. "And I'm supposed to lie here and not jerk off, knowing that that's going on?" "That's right." "That's too cruel." Helen laughed. "I know it is, Daddy. Good night." She blew me a kiss and hung up. I tested my erection by hanging my wet bath towel on it. It just twitched. I think if I'd struck it with a hammer it'd have vibrated like an iron bar. How was I supposed to sleep knowing what was going on and what was waiting for me tomorrow night? I sought help from my old pal Jack Daniels. Thank you, Jack. * * * * * "Helen the Happy Hooker!" B pounced on her as soon as the phone was cradled. She'd learned so much from her roommate: none of it ever likely to help her build a career, but all of it so much fun. She pinned Helen to the bed and nuzzled her bare breasts. Helen's nipples could cut glass. "You're so cruel to him." "Because tomorrow he's gonna have six holes to fill and I want him up to the job." Helen stroked B's hair as she looked down, watching her nipple getting caught between B's pearly teeth. The bite hurt a little -- in a good way. "What are we really going to do tonight? We shaved already." B moved over to nibble Helen's other nipple. "Let's go and find a party." "Goodie! Frat boys!" B liked frat house parties. Helen sometimes wondered if she'd created a monster. Most of her sins weren't common knowledge on campus but after she'd introduced B to the joys of public exposure, B had really embraced it as a lifestyle choice. She'd stopped wearing pants unless she absolutely had to and, with the money she was saving on lingerie, invested in short skirts. Upskirt views of B were so commonplace on campus that she'd got the nickname Bare-back B. And she loved it. Right now they were on the porch of their favourite frat house, B in her shortest dress and Helen in something a little less obvious, if you ignored her still pokey nipples. "Guys!" Shouted the boy who answered the door. "Guys!" Someone heard him holler and turned the music down a fraction. Many eyes turned to the door. "Guys." He said a third time. "There are ladies present. A little respect if you please." Helen and B stood just inside the door as a chorus of wolf whistles rose to a crescendo. It was a tradition. Some of the guys bowed too. On a whim, B curtsied back at them, lifting her skirt just enough to flash them all. There was a cheer from almost everyone. The few other girls who'd arrived ignored it. Drinks were proffered and mingling started in earnest. "Eric. Or should I call you Mr President?" Helen asked the new president of Phi Kappa Delta. He'd been elected last week when the graduating class left. "Technically, only fraternity members and pledges use the title but perhaps later you can be my Monica Lewinsky?" "You know the rule, 'Mr President'. You're spoken for." Helen and B had only one rule: not to fuck anyone who was actively involved with another student. They were unpopular enough with the campus' female population without getting reputations for stealing boyfriends. "Can't blame a boy for trying." "I'd never blame you for trying. Trying is flattering." Helen patted his cheek affectionately. She'd had some good nights with Eric last year and he was the only guy on campus she'd trusted enough to tell about the escort work. "Well, if you're not here to fuck me farewell, what can I do for you?" Eric was watching B on the other side of the room, playing pool. "How many of your pledges are still virgins?" Helen asked. She'd turned to watch B too. That really was a very short skirt. "You know, I don't know. Let's find out." Eric caught the eye of the designated DJ and made slashing movements with his hand to get the music turned down. Then in a stentorian voice he boomed "Phi Kappa Delta pledges! Front and centre!" There was a flurry of activity and eight young men stood at attention in a line in the middle of the room. "Gentlemen!" Eric addressed the room, not the pledges. "These lowly worms have had one year now to prove their worthiness. Have any of them been found wanting?" "No Sir!" A chorus of male voices responded. "Then, gentlemen, shall we welcome them back next year as brothers of Phi Kappa Delta?" "Yes Sir!" The chorus responded. "Pledges, you have endured many trials this year. I know it has often been difficult, humiliating, even painful, but you are the chosen few. You can be justly proud of what you have achieved. There is only one more question I have for you. Who among you is still a virgin?" The Pledges looked uncomfortable. To fail to answer a direct question was forbidden. Two of the eight stepped forward, blushing. "Mr President." Helen spoke up. "It would be a stain on the reputation of this fraternity to count these boys among your number." Helen noticed that the two geeky boys who'd stepped forward were looking crest-fallen. "I concur. But what may be done?" Eric knew damned well what Helen wanted to do. He'd known as soon as she asked about virgins. "There are a few hours yet before they take the oath of allegiance. Give me the boys, Mr President, and I shall give you the men!" Helen glanced across at B and winked. "Very well. You two worms, go with these ladies. Obey them. The rest of you are dismissed." Eric waved away the six remaining pledges as Helen and B led the nervous and blushing geeks to the stairs. "And remember." Eric called out. "What you do, you do for the honour of Phi Kappa Delta. Do not disgrace your brothers." He was grinning. He'd bet good money that there were pledges in this room that were already regretting not stepping forward. * * * * * "Pants off, boys." B chirped as soon as they were safely in one of the bedrooms. She undid the side of her skirt and flipped it off as she spoke, leaving her bare from the waist down. The young men hesitated, understandably shy in front of each other and intimidated by B's overdose of confidence. Helen stood behind them. They couldn't see her peeling her dress over her head. Naked she stepped between the boys, brushing against them. "Eric told you to obey us. Shall I tell him you fell at the first fence?" Silently, with much fumbling, the two boys dropped their trousers. "Shorts too." Helen ordered. The shorts descended. The chubbier of the two guys had an erection already. It wasn't spectacular but Helen had seen smaller ones. The other guy was cupping his crotch so she couldn't see what he had to hide. B knelt to help them step out of their clothes. Finding a cock at eye level she glanced up with a reassuring smile for the boy. "Nice." She whispered. The cock twitched in her peripheral vision. When she'd tossed both pairs of trousers onto a chair, she stood up again and went to sit on the bed. The shy, skinny one still cupped his crotch. "Hands down, Mister." Helen snapped at him. She knew pledges were used to obeying orders barked at them. Instantly the hands fell to his sides. His cock was bigger than the first boy's and it was only semi-erect. Helen seized hold of it, feeling it swell in her hand as she moved her fingers back and forth. She looked him in the eye and smiled. "What's your name?" "David, Miss. David Barrio." He was quite hard now. "David, you have nothing to be shy about." She gave his cock a last squeeze then let go, moving to the other boy. "And your name?" "John Miss." He jerked as he felt her fingers curl around his stiffy. "There's no need to call me Miss. I'm Helen and she's B. You know you have a small penis, don't you John?" "Yes M-Helen." It took a lot to admit that. "Well that's the bad news over with. The good news is that, while size does matter, it doesn't matter as much as guys think. Do you like my tits? You keep looking at them." "Yes Helen." John licked his lips nervously. "Then why haven't you touched them?" Helen asked. John looked genuinely shocked. "C'mon John. A naked girl is holding your cock. Do you need a written invitation?" John didn't. He reached for her tits with both hands. "Mmm. I like having my nipples played with. B usually nibbles them. Try that." Helen instructed. John bent to comply. He was inept, probably self-conscious, but at least he was trying to arouse her -- which was redundant. Helen was rarely not aroused. She glanced over to confirm that B was getting along equally well with David. "Ok boys. Stop a minute. Anatomy 101. B, would you lie down please? I want to give these guys the guided tour." Helen watched B Sit on the edge of the bed, lie back, lift her legs straight up then spread them until she was nearly doing the splits. The boys couldn't take their eyes off her pussy. "Thanks B." Helen knelt down. "My pleasure." B loved to show off. "Boys, this is a pussy. On a nice girl, it'd be called a vagina but we're the other sort so it's a pussy, snatch, twat or cunt. You'll recognise it, I'm sure from pictures and videos. Does either of you know where the clitoris is?" Helen glanced at them. David nodded. "Ok David, show me." Nervously David reached down and pointed to B's clitoral hood. "There." "Don't just point, touch it. Put your finger on the clitoris." Helen waited while David touched his first pussy. She noticed his erection twitch as he did so. "Good. If a girl is already aroused, caressing around her clit is good foreplay but if she's not yet aroused, dry fingers on dry skin can chafe so the best foreplay, bar none, is with your tongue. Watch carefully." Helen started to lick B's labia. Circling her clit then working her way down between her plump lips to her vulva. It didn't take long for B to start responding. Her labia became engorged and her juices started to glisten in the recesses of her hole. The boys watched in rapt attention. They were holding their own cocks now and stroking them. Helen stopped suddenly. "David, your turn. Make B come." Helen stood to make room for the boy and watched as he tentatively got his first taste of pussy. "John. Come over here and try on me." Helen led the chubby boy to the other bed and lay back, spreading her legs for him. "Slower." She said, as John, showing more eagerness than nerves, stuck his tongue in her and started lapping like a thirsty dog. "That's better... Good. Remember to share your attention between my clit and my vulva. Ooh. That was really good. Do it again." She guided and encouraged him until she was close to coming. "Now, without stopping, put your finger inside me. Ooh yesss!" Helen climaxed, gripping John's hair to hold his mouth against her until she'd finished. "Did I do it right?" John asked when she gently pushed him away. "Yes John. You did just fine. Did you feel me squeezing your finger when I came?" "Yes." "That's the bit girl's always forget to fake. If a girl has an orgasm and her pussy doesn't pulse like that around your cock, she's faking it." She pulled him to her and kissed him, probing his mouth with her tongue, savouring her own juices. "And that's because I wasn't faking. Would you like to fuck me now?" "Err yes." "What position would you like?" "What?" "Me on top? You on top? On my knees from behind? What position turns you on most when you're looking at porn?" "Err... you on top?" "Good choice. Lie down then." Helen straddled him and reached under to guide his cock into her. "John, it's ok if you don't last long the first time. I've already had an orgasm. That's why it's always a good idea to lick your girl first. If she's had the first orgasm, she'll forgive you for anything." Helen sank onto his cock. " Now reach up and fondle my tits. Think of my nipples as speed controls: The harder you play with them, the faster I'll fuck you. Ok?" "Ok." John reached up and caressed her tits. "Now just relax and enjoy the ride." Helen started to gyrate her hips, rising and falling gently as she worked his cock. She glanced over to B who was on all fours with David stroking in and out of her. She called across the room. "David, use the ball of your thumb to massage B's ass. She loves it." Helen was glad she'd reassured john about coming quickly because he did, barely seconds after she increased the pace. "It's ok baby." She said softly, kissing him to silence his mumbled apologies. "Welcome to manhood. Good isn't it?" "Great." John showed initiative for the first time this evening, reaching behind Helen's head to pull her down for another kiss. The movement dislodged his softening cock but he didn't mind. "Want another go?" "Oh yes." "Ok. You just watch the live porn over there and I'll see if I can wake up Wee Willy Winkie again." Helen moved down and started to suck on his limp cock. John watched her for a moment then took her advice and watched his buddy fucking B. The show didn't last long. David grunted and stopped thrusting almost at once. It did the trick though. John's cock hardened in Helen's mouth. He thought she'd stop sucking him then, but she carried on, kneeling there on the bed with her ass in the air and her tongue swirling around the head of his cock. "Wanna see something really sexy?" B asked David. They'd come over to watch John getting blown. The Sins of the Father "What, like this isn't sexy?" B took that as a yes and knelt behind Helen, burying her face between her girlfriend's thighs and burrowing her tongue into Helen's oozing hole, cleaning up all the juices there. Helen worked her pelvic floor muscles to squeeze out the cum John had left inside her. B licked the white stuff up greedily. David moved closer, massaging his cock back to full strength. When B moved from licking Helen's pussy to licking her ass, he got really interested. John groaned and unloaded in Helen's mouth but she carried on fellating him. B moved aside. "There you go David. No sloppy seconds." "You mean...?" "Yes, David. I mean..." Helen's eyes widened as David's cock thrust into her. His thumb went straight to her ass too, or was it B's. Either way, it was all good. She kept John in her mouth until he was properly hard for a third time then moved over a bit to let B take over. David lacked technique but he certainly felt big and that was some compensation. "On your feet!" B dragged John off the bed and got on her knees beside Helen. "Don't just stand there. Get behind me and stick that cock in." B ordered. As |John hurried to obey, she turned to Helen and grinned. "Are we having fun yet?" "You know this is just the sort of behaviour that got us thrown out of the sorority when we were pledges?" "And your point is?" B felt John slide in to her pussy. She clenched to make herself as tight as she could for the poor, under-endowed, guy. "My point is it's so unfair. We do it: we get thrown out. These guys do it and get to join their fraternity." "As I recall, this was your idea." "So? It's still unfair. David's cock's quite nice." "Ain't it just?" "Remind me next year: I want to make him a lot more popular with girls. This much cock should not be just for jerking off." "Ok. Oops. John's slipped out." She waited for him to guide it back in. He was doing nothing for her but she moved her hips back against him anyway. She definitely regarded this evening as one of her random acts of kindness. "Ooh. David's come." Helen announced. "John too." B said seconds later. "Ok guys, relax, catch your breath. Smoke if you want. We're just gonna get cleaned up then we can all go back to the party." Helen and B got off the bed and headed for the bathroom. When they came back out, clean but still naked, the boys were dressed. "Um, we just wanted to say..." John stalled. "Thanks." David carried on. "Thanks for all this. We were just talking about it and we know we're never likely to have girlfriends as hot as you two so we're never going to forget this." David rushed to the end of the sentence and stopped, looking sheepish. B pulled on her t-shirt and said "Aww! That's so sweet." Helen was buttoning her dress and looking around for her other shoe. "Guys, don't put yourselves down. There's plenty of other people in this world who'll do that for you. Getting laid is easy if you have confidence, which I hope you two have more of now. There'll be plenty more girls in your lives from now on -- trust me -- some may even be the right sort to take home to meet the family." Helen found her shoe. "Now let's go back downstairs." She led the way. There was a cheer when they got to the top of the stairs and Eric was waiting at the bottom with two beers. "Did they acquit themselves well?" He asked Helen. "Manfully. The honour of Phi Kappa Delta has been upheld." She answered, snaking an arm around B's waist and drawing her close. There was another cheer. "Good. Beer. Push off." Eric handed David and John a glass each and dismissed them. "Where were you two when I wanted to lose my cherry? That's what I want to know." "Poor boy." B pecked his cheek and gave the front of his jeans an affectionate pat that no one but Eric noticed. "Yes, We're sorry we couldn't be there for you in your hour of need. Who did get your cherry anyway?" Helen asked. "A cheerleader called Rosie Boyce." "And you're complaining? Men!" "But Helen," B said. "Cheerleader or not, I bet she wouldn't do anal. You know what Eric likes." "That's true. Eric, I have a little going away present for you." Helen smiled sweetly. It was fun watching guys get their hopes up. "Not that! You know your Dad came up last week for the graduation ceremony?" "Sure. He's on the board of governors. But how did you know?" Eric had dined with his father but hadn't introduced him to any friends. "He called the agency to book an escort." "My dad? You?" "Your dad. Me." Helen nodded. "I thought you should know, just in case your allowance comes under review." "Well, well. What's he into?" Eric had not got along with his father for many years: not since his parents' divorce. "You're gonna love this: He drank champagne out of my pussy, and he's into the taste of his own cum. When he fucked me in the ass, he made me squat over his face while he licked me clean." "And you didn't mind?" "Why should I mind? I'm a whore. Besides, he tipped me three hundred dollars; over and above the five hundred he paid the agency." "Thanks Helen. I feel my summer job disappearing as we speak." "Do you want the photograph?" "Photograph?" "He went for a shower and I thought it might be useful so I took a photo of his credit card." Helen opened her purse and extracted a printout of the photo. Eric couldn't believe it. His father's credit card was being swiped through Helen's labia and a wallet showing his stepmother's picture was resting open between her thighs. "Jesus!" Eric hissed. "This is incredible." "Don't say I never give you anything. Have a good summer." Helen moved past him. "You're going already?" "I want to get B home. Cherry picking has made me horny, and we have a busy day tomorrow: I'm introducing B to my favourite cock in all the world." "Which is whose?" "I'll tell you one day." Helen tapped the side of her nose then turned away from Eric and went to drag B away from the pool table. B was rubbish at pool but nobody seemed to mind because she always played in such short skirts. Helen found her bending over the table, stretching to reach the cue ball. "Sorry guy's, the show's over for tonight." She patted B's pert bottom to get her attention. "We're going home." B missed her shot and straightened up. "So soon?" She racked her cue. "Our work here is done and I want to get you alone." "Did Eric like the picture?" B asked as they reached the front door. "Very much." Helen really wished Eric were single again. They both missed fucking him. * * * * * I woke up early, showered, shaved and paid my bill. The Denny's opposite the motel supplied breakfast. Sitting there waiting for my meal I recalled that the last time I ate in Denny's was the day Helen found out I was 'Papa'. Recalling that day gave me a hard-on under the table, which in turn gave me a feeling of déjà vu. On the road again, three hundred miles from my destination, I put on the last of Helen's CDs. This one was a pleasant surprise. No links, just great music from James Brown, Nina Simone, Ella Fitzgerald and Muddy Waters. Mr Waters got things moving with Mannish Boy. A journey always passes more pleasantly in the company of good friends and these guys had been my close companions for decades. So it was that I arrived in Boston in very mellow mood at about 3PM. Helen's directions turned out to be excellent and she was sitting on the grass opposite the student accommodation block when I pulled up. "Daddy!" she hit me at speed, nearly flooring me as her arms clasped around my chest and she pressed her cheek to my shoulder. "I've missed you so much." "I missed you too, Sweetheart. Who's your friend?" The girl Helen had been sitting with had followed her to the car. She was a little shorter than Helen but heartstoppingly pretty with pale blue grey eyes and translucent blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. "Hi, I'm B." The girl introduced herself. "And I believe I'm your special treat for tonight." "Hi B, you're a treat already. I've heard all about your exploits from Helen but her description of you didn't do you justice." "Daddy!" Helen let go of me and thumped my chest. "I told you she was gorgeous." "Thank you, daughter of mine, for over-rationalizing and ruining my attempted flattery. B, why do you put up with her?" "For the same reason you do. She's got the sweetest little pussy and the dirtiest little mind." Helen stuck her tongue out at B. "Save that for later. Shall we load your stuff? Are you all packed?" I didn't want any passers by hearing anything that they shouldn't. "All packed. This way, Daddy." Helen held onto my hand while B walked ahead of us. As we went up the steps I glanced up B's pleated plaid miniskirt. The no pants story appeared to be true. Helen caught me looking. "I told you. She plays pool in that outfit." Helen raised her voice and called out "B!" "Yes?" B stopped and turned to face us. I got my first glimpse of her pussy, in the shadows under her skirt. "Nothing." Helen winked. B could see where my gaze was. She waited a few seconds longer then turned and led us inside. Once in the privacy of their room, B flowed up against me and kissed me with complete abandon. I could feel my erection pressing against her belly so she surely must have felt it too. As soon as she moved back, Helen took her place. "Don't I get a kiss too, Daddy?" Helen asked in her little girl voice. So Helen got a kiss too, because I'm weak and just can't resist her 'Daddy's little girl' routine -- and because I adore her. There was a knock at the door. B opened it. "Eric thought you might want some help carrying boxes." A young student said to her. "Thank you David. Mr Barrington., David and John are from Phi Kappa Delta. They took the oath last night." B waved them into the room. "Pleased to meet you gentlemen. I'm Helen's father." I offered my hand. "Honoured Sir." David shook it first. "Pleased to meet you." John had the firmer grip. I wondered why these two in particular had been sent. Oh, I'd heard all about Eric -- the Jewish guy with the penis so large that Helen had said it was a good job they'd cut some of it off. "Everything on that bed is to go in that SUV." Helen said, pointing first at her bed then out of the window at my car. The boys grabbed a box each and headed back out of the room. I took a suitcase and followed them with the car keys. With me loading the vehicle and David and John shuttling bags and boxes from upstairs, the packing was done in minutes. When no more stuff arrived, I locked up and went back inside. The boys were effusively thanking Helen and B for something. They shut up as soon as I showed my face, then made their excuses and left. "Thank Eric for me." Helen called after them. Then to me "They were going to finish their freshman year as virgins so B and I went cherry picking last night." "Made men of them." B chimed in, looking smug. "I'm sure they'll never forget it." I'm way past being shocked or surprised at my daughter's antics. "Oh, they won't. You never forget the first time." B said. "Or the first time you get to fuck two girls in one night." Helen elaborated. "I wouldn't know about that, never having had more than one woman at a time." I protested my innocence in such matters. "Until tonight." B moved close and put her arm around me. "Until about an hour from now if we get a move on." Helen embraced me from the other side. There was just time for a group hug before my daughter's sense of urgency proved contagious and we were out of there. Or, at least, we would have been if we hadn't been met outside by a deputation of female students of the sorority sister persuasion. I guessed, correctly, that they were from the same sorority that kicked out Helen in her pledge year for inappropriate behaviour. "There are some things you ought to know about your daughter." The lead girl didn't bother with the little courtesy of introducing herself. "Really?" I paid attention. Helen had made no secret of just how unpopular she'd made herself with the female population -- except those few she'd bedded. "She's a promiscuous and amoral pervert." The girl looked triumphant as she spilled the beans about my daughter. If she only knew! "Really?" "Yes, really. Those two..." she pointed a quavering finger at Helen and B "Those two... They expose themselves all the time. They're disgusting." "Really? As I understand it, my daughter is in a same sex relationship. Look around you. There are plenty of heterosexual couples demonstrating their affection -- that couple under the oak tree for example. They haven't surfaced for air since I came out of that door. Is their behaviour objectionable to you? Why aren't you hassling them?" "But they're not both female." "So your objection is homophobic. I see. It's been a long time since homosexuality was illegal in this country, Miss. You mentioned promiscuity and... what was the word you used? Amoral? Only, my daughter has been in the same relationship since freshman year and, while it is a loving and trusting relationship, it is also an open relationship. Promiscuity, on the lips of people like you, usually means 'She gets more than me', which does not surprise me as Helen is a very pretty girl and has always been popular with boys: More popular than you, maybe? Is your judgement of her morality rooted in some religious ethic? Christianity perhaps?" "Of course. None of the men she's lain with respect her either." "Really? Well I have always believed, and always taught my daughter, that sin lies only in hurting others. Who has been hurt? Has my daughter stolen your boyfriend? Has she stolen anyone's boyfriend?" I knew she hadn't. I glanced at Helen as if asking her the question too. She just smiled and winked. I was on a roll. "No, but-" "Then I think you have your answer. My daughter's morality may not be the same as yours but she does have a moral code as old as Hippocrates -- First, do no harm. You also made mention of them flaunting themselves. Elaborate please." "They... don't wear underwear. Everyone knows that." The spoke-girl was stumbling now. She'd expected me to be outraged at Helen's behaviour but I've had a year to rationalize my feelings and her behaviour. This young moralist never stood a chance. "Sweetheart? B? Is this true?" I glanced at them, giving the moralist a moment of hope. "Yes Daddy." Helen answered. B nodded, not even trying to hide her amusement. "And people look up your skirts?" "Sometimes." Helen admitted. "So you would blame my daughter for the lack of self control of others? Miss, looking up my daughter's skirt is just like me standing here and looking down your sweater. You're a well-developed young lady and I think I might enjoy peeking down there but I have not and will not because I have what is called self-control. You mentioned a lack of respect. The president of Phi Kappa Delta sent a working party to carry my daughter's belongings to my car. I'd say that shows not just respect, but friendship, which is far more valuable. My daughter is happy - my only concern as a parent. She has good friends, hurts no one by her exploration of her sexuality and if her behaviour offends you, then I suggest you stop watching her so closely." "But... But..." The girl was lost for words and her sisters were no help. "Daddy, that was so cool!" Helen hugged me and kissed my cheek, ignoring the deputation that still stood there, watching. "Shall we go?" I said into her ear. "It's been a long drive and I need a shower before dinner." * * * * * "Who was that?" I asked, as we drove off campus. "Chrissy? Christabelle Deerborne. She has the hots for Eric but he barely notices she exists." "Is that why she's so pissed at you two?" "That, and a few other things. Wanna hear something really ironic?" Helen had the seat beside me. B sat in the back and leant on the headrests. In the rear view mirror I had a perfect view down her sweater. This time I did look. B noticed and shook her titties. "Self-control?" B asked. "Different circumstances. You want me to look." I glanced across at Helen. "What's ironic?" "Christabelle's father wants to do what you're about to do." B said it before Helen could. "Take a shower?" "Fuck his own daughter." "And you know this because?" "Because he was one of my first customers, Daddy. Three dates now and he always wants to call me Christabelle when he's fucking me." Helen filled me in. "That is ironic." I laughed. "He dotes on her. Bought her the presidency of her sorority with a huge donation to their refurbishment fund." "Apart from role-playing, is he kinky?" I had to know. "Very kinky." Helen said. "Isn't that the truth?" B agreed. "He's even weirder than the one who slurped champagne out of your pussy and jizz out of your ass hole." "Who did that?" I asked. "Eric's dad. Last week." Helen explained. "I told Eric about it last night because he has a hard time getting money out of his father." "Not any more!" B pointed out. "Blackmail?" "Leverage. I got a photo of his credit card in a compromising position. I strongly suspect Eric's father will realize that he should be more generous over his son's allowance." "I'll bet." I turned into the motel. "Sorry, B. I need to see out the back." B moved sideways so I could use the mirror to park. * * * * * "I'll just grab a quick shower." I put down my overnight bag and theirs and headed for the bathroom. "Be quick, or we'll start without you." Helen threatened. Before I was out of my clothes I heard the TV go on -- the cable porn channel by the sound of it. Well, I guess it set the mood. I showered quickly, half expecting them to join me, dried off and went into the bedroom wearing only a towel. I was over-dressed. The girls were curled up together on one of the beds, butt-naked, cuddling and watching a porn film of a girl with a dick in every hole. "Research?" I asked, disturbing their caressing. "Been there. Done that." B dismissed the scene on the TV, picked up the remote and muted the sound. "Show us what you've got Mister." She swung her legs off the bed and sprung to her feet. As she approached I had ample time to reappraise my first impression of her: She was stunning. Prettier than Helen, truth be told, and that's saying a lot. She whipped the towel from around my waist, freeing my already hard cock to spring up between us. "Oh Goodie!" B dropped to her knees in front of me and wrapped her mouth around the head of my cock. I glanced at Helen and mouthed the words "Thank you." She got up and came over too. I was expecting her to join in with the blowjob but instead she kissed me deeply and passionately, moaning into my mouth when my fingers found her crotch. "When did you last get laid, Daddy?" "Yesterday morning. Meg said it would be the last time we'd have the house to ourselves all summer." "Where did you do it?" "Well I chased her around the house with that rabbit thingy you suggested I buy her. When I caught her, we were in the kitchen." "You fucked Mom on the kitchen table?" Helen was squirming against my hand now and I was having difficulty remaining upright, my knees were trembling so much. "Sweetheart. I'll tell you everything but not right now." I was so close to coming in B's mouth. "So cum in her mouth, Daddy. That's what she's here for." So I let go, gasping as I squirted jet after jet of jism over B's tongue. Before my cock had finished spurting sperm, my legs gave way and I ended up on my ass on the floor with two hysterically amused girls sprawled on top of me. The final salvo of my orgasm had caught B across the face. She didn't seem to care. The Sins of the Father Helen was the first to regain composure. She sat up, took B's face in her palms and licked my cum off her girlfriend's cheek. It was the sexiest thing I'd seen in a long time. "B, that was amazing. While I'm down here, may I return the favour?" I was on by back and didn't think my legs were ready to support me. "Any time Daddy." B got up and came around to squat on my face. "I'm not your daddy. Call me Parry." I was speaking to her bottom as it descended towards me. "After tonight, you'll want to adopt me just so you'll have two daughters to fuck." B retorted as her pussy pressed onto my mouth. I lapped at it for all I was worth as she ground herself against my face. "Make him lick your ass too, Honey B." I heard Helen say. "He'll love that." "Ok. But hurry up and get him hard again. I want to see you two do it." As B moved so that my tongue could probe her anus, Helen's mouth closed around my cock. "God! D'you know how sexy it is? Seeing you suck your own father?" B feathered her clit as she pressed her ass onto my mouth. I could feel the heat and moisture increasing. When she moved back to give me access to her clit I sucked on it and flicked at it frantically. In moments she was climaxing steadily, juices practically squirting into my mouth. I knew then why Helen called her honey B. Nectar! I was rock hard by the time she'd finished soaking my face. "My turn!" Helen dragged me to my feet and onto the bed. When she got on all fours I knelt behind her and said, "B, would you do the honours?" B grinned lasciviously as she held my cock and guided it into Helen's pussy. It felt so good to be back, up to my balls in my daughter. B reached for a tube of lube and squeezed some onto Helen's ass. Helen lowered her tits to the bed, turning her head sideways and making her ass an even more inviting prospect. I watched B's fingers probing Helen's pink sphincter while I stroked in and out. Two was easy, three she had to work at and four was a sight to see. With a bit more lube and a bit more easing, she had Helen's ass stretched as far as her knuckles. When she pulled her fingers out, Helen's ass hole was gaping. It closed slowly as I watched, speeding up my thrusting. Helen's pussy felt so hot around my cock that I was loath to ever leave it, but that ass looked so welcoming. B stuck both her thumbs in next, stretching Helen's wide so that I could see deep inside her rectum. Helen caught me out, suddenly bucking and moaning as she came, her pussy gripping me like a velvet fist. I held onto her hips and slowed right down, feeling something warm and wet trickling down my thighs. She'd either squirted or pissed herself. At this point, I really didn't care which. "Fuck me in the ass, Daddy." Helen murmured from the recesses of the pillow. "Show B how you treat your little whore." What's a man supposed to do? I pulled my cock out of her pussy, waved it's glistening length about a bit while B pulled her thumbs out of Helen, then I plunged through her slowly contracting sphincter. B watched my cock closely, her hand behind her back, lubricating her own ass. When she was ready, she went around the other side of the bed and knelt beside B, wiggling her ass in invitation. "You don't mid sharing, do you, Helen?" She asked. "Daddy. B's feeling left out. Do you think you can fuck her in the ass too?" "My pleasure." I pulled out of Helen and shuffled across to the next bottom in line, feeling glad of that knee trembler without which I'd never have had this much staying power. I had to press hard to get past B's sphincter because she was lubed but not loosened up. It was delightfully tight and I was turned on all the more because I was sodomizing a girl I hadn't even fucked normally yet. I Thrust a few times into B then moved back to Helen for a few strokes, then back to B and so on, until I could hold on no longer and drained my balls into B's rectum with a grunt. "No way!" Helen was dismayed. "You greedy bitch! That's both times you've had the cream." She made her mouth turn down at the corners. "You can have it if you want." B was thinking about what B did with Eric's father. "Yummy. Daddy, you're gonna love this." Helen rolled onto her back and B propped herself over her face, leaning back so that I could see her ass as my cum oozed out of her and dribbled into Helen's mouth. After the first big blob, Helen raised her head and probed for more with her tongue. It was filthy and perverted and I loved it. "I think we all need a shower." I suggested. "Then some dinner." Three in one shower is crowded but fun. Everyone washed everyone else and I nearly skipped dinner to take the girls back to bed. Nearly, but my rumbling stomach exercised its veto. * * * * * One advantage of my daughter's escort work is that she knows all the best restaurants in Boston. On her recommendation we were in a quiet booth in a very fine dining room, Helen and B in cocktail dresses and me in the suit I'd had the presence of mind to pack. B had pants on for once. I'd persuaded her to wear a silk thong so I could take it off her later and keep it as a souvenir of my wonderful evening with her. Over dinner, Helen and B regaled me with stories of their recent exploits, including the full story of the two pledges last night. "It's easy to see why the other girls don't like you. You two are flooding what is traditionally a scarcity market and keeping the price of pussy down." "I don't think they'd like us any better if we charged more." Helen observed. "They have a name for that sort of girl too." "So do you, but we still love you." B pointed out to her. "Well said, B." I raised my wine glass. "Vivat, amor et gratia placendi." "Long life, love and the joy of pleasing others." B translated without a moment's thought, which surprised me. There was a clink of glassware and a quaffing of wine. "Your turn, B. Tell me a story. Something to get me in the mood to make love to you later." * * * * * "I was a pretty normal teenager" B began "Until art changed my life. That's why I'm an art history major and a flasher. Even before I met Helen and got corrupted-" "Liberated." Helen corrected. "Even before I met Helen and got liberated, I was into being nude in public. The summer I graduated from High school, I modelled for still life classes at my local adult education centre because I enjoyed being naked in front of lots of people. But the day that changed my life was when my high school art teacher took us on a field trip to the Guggenheim gallery. I bought a book in the gift shop: Nudes in Art. I was fascinated by the depictions of women -- some men too, but I was more interested in the women -- pictures of women nude in a time when polite society wore dresses to the ground and even veils in public. The difference between what was acceptable in art and what was acceptable in public became an obsession. When Titian painted the Venus of Urbino, it was considered pornographic, not because the reclining woman is touching herself, but because she's making eye contact with the viewer. There was this picture of a beautiful young woman clearly touching her pussy -- and she really is touching it, not covering it -- and what offended people was the whole eye-contact thing. Like it's ok as long as she pretends she doesn't know we're watching. That's why I started doing the random acts of indecency thing: The art school modelling too. I was trying to feel the difference between being deliberately observed and covertly. And you know what? There isn't any difference, at least from my perspective as the naked girl. An art student studying my tits for half an hour while he sketches me; a web cam close-up as I pull a sting of pearls out of my pussy; A group of school boys at the mall, looking up my skirt as I ride the escalator. It all feels the same. There was a picture in the book called L'Origine du Monde. It's a much larger than life close-up of a recently fucked vagina. You know that because some of her pubic hair is matted, her labia are engorged and there is the glistening of moisture in her vulva. The model was a woman called Joanne Hiffernan and the artist fucked her then painted her pussy in exquisite detail and called the image The Origin Of The World. That's art, but a photograph of a girl's pussy in a magazine is porn. Where's the difference? I wasn't looking at the painting, just a photograph of it in a book. Clearly, the difference is arbitrary. When I worked web cams with Helen, hundreds of guys got just as much of a close-up as the people who stand in front of that painting in The Louvre with their hands in their pockets. I always looked straight at the camera, making eye contact, when I masturbated for them, like Titian's Venus. There are statues of naked women in the mall. You can buy them to put outside your house. You know there's a fountain in Belgium that looks like a boy pissing: Actually holding his little penis and pissing into an ornamental pond. It's right in the town square, where it's been for hundreds of years. Nobody thinks that's obscene but wanna bet what would happen if I pissed in the reflecting pool in Washington? How much would my bail be? Art imitates life but life must imitate art too. That's why I'm such an exhibitionist. I'm bringing an appreciation of fine art to the masses through performance art." "So you haven't peed in anyone's pond yet?" I was enthralled by her arguments in favour of self-exposure. "Not yet, but I've pissed in public a few times." "Tell him about the picnic." Helen prompted. "|While we were waiting for you to arrive, we had lunch on the grass." "I saw you there, remember." "So you did. Well I needed to pee and it was such a nice day so I shuffled my skirt from under my ass and cut loose. Maybe a thousand people within shouting distance and nobody but Helen noticed. Helen told me how she ruined your tie. Do you like watching girl's pissing?" "You know the answer to that already. Helen's bound to have told you." Ruining my tie wasn't the only adventure in water sports that Helen and I have had. "I'm very clear on why you flash gash all the time, B, but that doesn't explain why you're here tonight." "Because I'm so young and hot and you're old enough to be my father and there must be plenty of young studs on campus that I could be fucking right now?" "In a nutshell." "Because we both love the same girl and I wanted to share your secret instead of just keeping it. Because Helen wanted me to, and I'd do anything for her. Because those young studs just want to fuck me but you said you wanted to make love to me. Because I can't shock you and, for some reason, I don't even want to try to: That's new. Mainly though, because to you I'm special. You'll never forget this night and you'll never forget me. To college boys, I'm just another one night stand." It was the first time I'd seen B looking solemn. "Honey B." I took her hand in mine. Helen already had her other hand. "You are beautiful, you are sweet, you are generous, you are creative and you're right. I'll never forget this night. How could I? And I really want to make love to you, even if I am old enough to be your father." "Can I call you Daddy?" Bright, sunny B was back. "Yes. And I do wish I could adopt you." I met her halfway for a kiss. "And thank you, Helen, for bringing the three of us together." Helen got kissed too. * * * * * I was pleasantly surprised by B's rationale of her behaviour. I had thought she was just seeking attention but that wasn't it at all: she was living her life like those images in some of the world's most valuable artworks. I couldn't help but wonder where that would lead her, artistically. Of course, I stopped wondering about her future when we got back to the motel and she shyly asked me to take her panties off for her. At that point I knew exactly what her future held, at least in the short term. Making love to B turned out to be one of the most exquisite pleasures of my life. I took her gently, wanting to show her something more than lust. She moved under me, exactly complimenting the rhythm I set. Her lips brushed mine and parted as our tongues explored each other's mouths. She smelt unbelievably sweet: There was a hint of bitter chocolate in the fragrance of her body and, as we moved against each other, the muskiness of perspiration and sexual arousal. Her nipples were so erect that even the areolae were puffy and engorged, drawing sighs from her as they brushed against my chest hair. I am not betraying Helen or Meg if I say that B was the most beautiful woman I have ever been intimate with. Her beauty alone would not have made me want more than sex but the rapport I felt as I moved in her and the synergy of our lovemaking -- I fell in love. Knowing we had only this one night, I fell for B and I know she felt it. It was all I had to give her and it was what she wanted -- to have a man give himself to her as fully as she gave herself to him. In the end, I guess we all want to be loved. Helen lay on the other bed and watched us, masturbating slowly. I hope she could see that the two people she loved and trusted and had brought together had found, in each other, that same love and trust. By my count, B had three climaxes of increasing intensity, the last being the last straw for me. As she bucked against me, trembling with the intensity of her orgasm and soaking the bed, I made my libation to Venus, pouring my seed into my own personal goddess of love. We lay unmoving for a long time afterwards. I softened and eventually was dislodged. "I've lost you." B whispered, her voice low and husky. "I've discovered you." She kissed me. She had to know it wasn't just sex. There was more than mere passion in her lips. "Thank you, Daddy." She husked in those same low tones. "Thank you." Helen was beaming when we finally moved to the other bed to join her. I got to be in the middle, with B's bottom nestling against my hips and Helen snuggling up to my back. "You two were great together." Helen whispered. "That looked so... intense." "It was intense." B murmured. "Daddy, promise me you'll do that to me again." "I promise, Honey B." "Next semester? You could bring Helen's things back. We'll have an apartment then." "Well, Daddy?" Helen asked, squeezing closer to me to show her approval of the scheme. "I'd love to." I was never going to refuse an offer like that. "Now hush up, both of you: Daddy's trying to get to sleep." "Goodnight Daddy." Two voiced chimed in unison. Then there was only the shallow breathing of three sated lovers and the heartbeat under my hand. * * * * * I woke up with the bed to myself. The girls had moved to the other bed and were lying on opposite directions, legs interlaced, grinding their crotches together. I lay still and watched, not wanting to interrupt. Helen had let me have B all to myself last night and I wanted to do as much for her: This was their farewell fuck before a long summer apart. Helen was the first one to get noisy, climaxing loudly. "Shh. You'll wake him." B admonished, while still grinding her pussy against Helen's mercilessly. "Make all the noise you want, sweetheart. I'm awake." "Morning Daddy." B twisted to look over her own shoulder to look at me. "Good morning. That looks fun." "It is. Ooh." B turned away again and got just a bit more frantic in her movements as she approached her own climax. "Come and watch us, Daddy." Helen said. "B loves an audience." "So do you, my darling daughter." I got out of bed and knelt beside them. The musky aroma of their pussies was incredibly strong, but they hadn't showered since before dinner last night. This close, I could hear the moisture -- there was a pleasantly obscene squelching sound. B came noisily and fluid bubbled out of the juncture of their thighs. It was suddenly not enough just to watch. I insinuated a finger between them then sucked on it. I would have stuck my tongue in instead and licked two pussies at once but their thighs were in the way. "Hmm." It tasted a bit musky, but who the fuck cares? Not me. "I think I like the taste of two girls at once." "With just a splash of Daddy's special sauce?" B pulled apart from Helen so she could turn over. I must have looked puzzled. "From last night? That's why we weren't sixty-nining. Pussy and sushi..." "They've just got to be fresh." Helen finished. "I don't mind." I ran a finger up the length of B's pussy and sucked it again. "As Helen well knows. Remember, Sweetheart?" "Last time I went home, I was menstruating so Daddy rummaged through my luggage and found a two day old pair of panties to sniff while I blew him. He actually licked the crusty bit of the gusset." "Well I need the bathroom anyway. Will you come and wash me, Daddy?" B sat up, legs still spread. "B, if you need to pee, let's give him that golden shower you were hinting at over dinner." Helen suggested. "Girls, you can do anything you want as long as it only takes an hour. It's nearly ten o'clock and we have a two day drive ahead of us, so we really need to be out of here by Eleven." "Party pooper!" B stuck out her tongue. I resisted the urge to suck on it. "Hang on, B! He said we could do anything we want." Helen gave B a meaningful look. "Oh goodie! Shower time for you." B sprang off the bed and grabbed my hand, pulling me to my feet and into the bathroom. By the time Helen caught up with us, I was already on my back on the bathroom floor with B soaking my face and chest. I make no apologies for the depths of my depravity but I really was enjoying it. My cock had been hard since I woke up but now it was twitching with enthusiasm. As soon as B had finished, she stood to make way for Helen. With no apparent embarrassment, B sat on the toilet and voided her bowels while she watched my daughter hold her own labia open, the better to aim at my mouth. "Did you ever change Helen's diapers?" B asked when I got up. "Of course." I was soaking up the puddle of piss with last night's towels. "I'll do that, Daddy." Helen took over the mopping up operation. "B wants you to wipe her ass for her." Who am I to argue? It's a strangely intimate thing to do and I'd never have thought to try it, but for Honey B. I needed the loo too, but I got a bit more privacy because the girls were in the shower together. Some bits of B got washed twice because I swapped places with Helen and had no intention of keeping my hands to myself. I only stopped fondling her crotch, front and back, when she knelt to suck on my erection. I had a wall to lean against this time, so I didn't fall over when I came in her mouth. Helen had packed our bags by the time we came out of the bathroom. She wasn't dressed yet though so B dropped her towel and flowed up against Helen, presenting her open mouth to be kissed. "Thank you for sharing your Dad with me." She said as they cuddled each other. "It's been amazing." "I love you, Honey B." Helen hugged her tight. "I love you too, but it's time for you to go." "I know." But Helen didn't let go of her. I pulled on jeans and a shirt while they said goodbye. Helen finally released B and stepped into a light frock, which B buttoned up the front for her. I popped out to the car with my bag and Helen's. When I got back, B was still naked. There were hugs and kisses, a nearly tearful farewell and a repeat of my promise to bring Helen back. Then we left B there, naked, gorgeous and completely comfortable standing outside our motel room waving as we drove away. * * * * * Helen was quiet for a few minutes, lost in her own thoughts. I left her to them and just drove, but the silence started to get to me so I reached for the hi-fi, flipped through the disc changer until I found what I was looking for and pressed play. The Sins of the Fathers She was in town for the summer, and he wanted her more than he ever wanted anything before, even more than the high school football championship ring on his finger, which had been the most important thing in the world to him. There were those who thought he had it all together. A handsome, muscular quarterback of his high school's football team, in a small town in Alabama where high school of football was the most important thing in the world, and the teenage boys who played it walked around like kings of that world. And, if that was not enough he had the certainty of having God on his side. "Dad, can I ask you about something?" Josh Gibson asked his father. "I know it's a sin to have lustful thoughts, but what do you do about it?" "You pray and you concentrate on other things," his father instantly replied, more like a rote answer than a deeply held religious conviction. Josh knew his father was not as devout as his mother. What he did not know was that years earlier, when he was the high school's quarterback, he personally deflowered every pretty girl in the school. He continued the partying and the easy supply of women as a college quarterback. But, then, something happened. A girl he had done one night and all but forgotten about within days, accused him of raping her. For the first time in his life, the swaggering, brash Michael Gibson felt fear. The police threw out the case and Michael vowed to avoid those sexy and easy women and go for a good church girl. "When those thoughts come like demons, how do I fight them?" Josh asked. Michael did not know what he getting himself in for when he married that good church girl, did not know years later he would have a son as devout as his mother, who he could barely speak to if they about anything other than football . "What kind of thoughts are we talking here, son?" Michael asked. "They're about normal stuff, right? With a girl?" "Yes!" Josh exclaimed, shocked by the question, but, then, he felt a painful irony. Cyndi's father was a gay man, a writer from L.A., where Josh knew such things were more acceptable than in his small town. "If there's a girl at the church youth group you think is pretty and you want to take her out, that's OK," Michael said. "What if I think a girl is pretty who isn't a Christian?" Josh asked. "You mean she's not a good Christian girl?" his father asked. "Her family just goes to church on Christmas and Easter?" "Do I have to tell you?" Josh asked. "No, son, you don't. It's that Bennett girl isn't it?" Cyndi Bennett, the Latina daughter of the gay writer from California renting the house next to the Gibson family for the summer, seemed to Josh to combine every attractive trait of Salma Hayek and Selena Gomez. Josh looked away. Michael puts a hand on his son's shoulder. "What religion is she?" "She doesn't have a religion. She just likes yoga. She said her spirituality is from that." For a moment, Michael was his younger self, talking about girls the way he once did. "I've seen that yoga stuff on TV. Whoa boy!" It was then that Christabel Gibson crarged into the room. "You will not go anywhere near that little harlot! That Jezebel!" she yelled at her son. She realized something, and it made her even more upset. "That's exactly what she is! Jezebel was a princess! The daughter of a Pagan king who did her father's evil bidding! A seductress who led godly men astray!" "I was handling it," Michael meekly replied. He could command men and boys, but could never stand up to his wife. "You were not handling it since you did not tell him he would never talk to her again no way, no how! You want to be the nice parent! You want to be easier on the kids! But, this time it's my son's soul at stake!" She broke down crying. "Mama, I don't want to hurt you," Josh pleaded. "Hurt me? This is every Christian mother's nightmare! She's the daughter of a homosexual who writes filthy, sinful novels!" She grabbed his hands. "Listen to me," she implored. "That yoga stuff is from Hinduism, which is worshipping devils they call gods. They meditate and look inside to become one with the universe. We pray and look to God and pray to be reconciled with Him." Christabel's emotions again ran hot. "She's a succubus! A seductive demon sent to tempt a godly man and lead him away from God!" "Mama, she's not a demon. She's just a girl." "I know I must sound crazy for saying a perfectly nice-seemingly girl is like a demon. You'll understand when you get older. The Devil doesn't have horns and a tail. He wears a nice suit and drives a nice car. The demonic whores of Babylon who serve him do not have fangs and bat wings like in a movie. But, their little skirts and little bodies are all an illusion to lead men away from God." As if with strategy and by calculation, she again adjusted the emotional temperature of her words. "This is hard for me, talking to my son about sex," she began. "Every thought you have of her is a sin. But, you are a Christian warrior. You can resist those wicked thoughts." "I will, Momma," Josh replied. "I promise." She embraced Josh as Michael sighed. His son was growing up thinking his normal teenage boy desires were sins, and his desire for the girl next door was an even worse sin. The next day, Josh pushed a lawn mower to his backyard. He saw her Cyndi in the yard next door. What Josh did not know was that Cyndi was terribly near-sighted. Without glasses she could not see more than a very short distance from herself. With them on, she could not read. And, her plan for her Saturday was to put on her bikini, lie back on a deck chair and read Nabakov's "Lolita." Josh forced himself to look away from her. Cyndi reached for a nearby bottle of suntan lotion and rubbed it on her legs. Josh again made himself look away. He reached down to the lawn mower's ignition. He pulled it, but it did not start. He tried it again. He fumbled with it. Cyndi rubbed the lotion on her stomach, then lower, as Josh continued to struggle with the ignition. She rolled over as his eyes moved to her against his will. He pulled the ignition again, with his attention almost purely on the little line of cloth between her butt cheeks and the flesh near it. Sparks exploded from it, and he jumped back, startled by them. As he mowed the lawn, he fought his desire to not to look at what he wanted to know to the smallest detail. Finally, he finished mowing the lawn and rolled the lawn mower back into the garage. He headed straight to the kitchen, where he tensely grabbed a glass from the cabinet and got ice from the door of the refrigerator. He pushed the glass hard against the water release. The water shot out and covered the ice, instantly melting what was moments before cold and hard. Then, he poured it on his head. The doorbell rang. His eyes went wide with alarm. He went to the door and saw it was Cyndi. He exhaled forcefully and tried to compose himself before opening the door. She smiled at him. "Hello, Josh," she said. "Uh, hi," he stammered. "Are you going to tell my parents?" "Tell them what?" An awkward eternity of seconds passed as his thoughts ran faster than he could control them. "I locked myself out. The glass door slides and..." "The people who rented us the house said you do," she replied. "For emergencies." He darted through the house to the kitchen. In a panic, he shuffled through a messy drawer, filled with coins, keys and rubber bands, grabbed the house key on a ring and rushed back to her. "Why are you... sweaty?" "I was, um, mowing the lawn." He handed her the key. "Thanks." As she turned to walk off, he struggled to pull his eyes off of her and quickly closed the door to prevent himself from looking at her. Josh jumped into a shower. As he scrubbed himself, he felt his hands go lower then... He slammed himself back into the wall. "No!" He pulled his hair in frustration. "James 1:14: When a man is tempted by his own sinful desires, he is enticed and led astray." He turned the hot water off and the cold water all the way on. "Then, after desire has formed, it leads to sin, then sin leads to death." Michael returned to his room wearing a towel. Cyndi, in her bikini, lied on his bed. His jaw dropped. "How did you...?" "You know your neighbors have a key to your house in case of emergency, just like you have one for theirs." " Get out!" Josh yelled. He reached for a shirt with one hand while grabbing his towel tightly to himself with the other. "If you try to put any clothes on that sexy body of yours, I'm going to hurt you." She reached for his towel. He grabbed her arms and accidentally let the towel dropped. She looked down and smiled. "I knew you liked me!" He looked mortified for a moment, then had a look of PAIN. She pulled her leg back from a kick between his legs and laughed. He pushed her away and back on the bed. "You pushed me!" she accused with mock outrage. Still pained, he stood up. She crawled on the bed towards him with lust in her eyes. He grabbed her arms and pinned her down. She smiled and tilted her head. They struggled. She maneuvered on top of him. She licked the side of his face. Her head went lower and lower... "Stop!" He tried to push her away. To prevent this, she grabbed him so hard around his buttocks he felt her nails pierce his skin. "Just relax," she purred, "and enjoy this." He feared that if he struggled further with her that he could cause her to accidentally bite him where he was most sensitive. So, he stopped. He groaned with pleasure. She stopped what she was doing to prevent herself from gagging. She smiled lustfully at his surrender. Then it happened. Josh saw her eyes flash a demonic red. She lowered her head again. "No!" Blood gushed from her mouth. With a delicate touch, she traced the corner of her lips then sucked his blood from her finger. Josh woke up, breathing heavily, like his father, the football coach, had been running them for hours in the hot Alabama sun, drenched in his own sweat, as if he had been baptized again by his maternal grandfather, the preacher. He then noticed a spot even wetter than the rest of him as he looked down at his boxer shorts.