0 comments/ 9068 views/ 2 favorites Backstory By: Jimalicious Note: I mentioned in "The Next Morning" that it was part of a longer story. Well, here's the beginning of that story, drenched in the grief of a man who has lost his wife, who wakes up every morning wondering how to go on and then, one day, wakes up on a private island in the South Pacific. He's comfortable enough. There is a beautiful beach house fitted out with every known amenity (and some that are still unknown). But the grief stays with him. And then, on the first anniversary of her death, things begin to change. ----------------------- December 23 It rained. It's never happened before. I don't really know what to make of it. The sky just wept for hours. I sat on the front porch of the beach house, under the tin roof, and listened to it beat down. Eventually I got up to pour a glass of red wine, and to light some candles. By late afternoon it looked like a little shrine around me--candles flickering, a half-finished bottle of wine on the table, and me--staring straight ahead into the gloom, watching the lightning flash its anguish across the grieving sky and listening to the rain pound down like fists on a grave. December 24 All that rain caused a mudslide that came oozing down the mountain and into the back side of the beach house. There's lots of it. It comes almost up to the kitchen window. So, I spent most of the day yesterday shoveling mud into a wheelbarrow and pushing it through the forest to a nearby ravine where I dumped it and went back for more. I'll do it again today. I'm trying to get it while it's still mud, before it bakes in the sun and hardens so that I have to chip it apart with a pickaxe and haul it away in pieces. It's not supposed to be like this on the island. There isn't supposed to be rain or mud or heavy manual labor. But yesterday it felt almost good to have something difficult and mindless to do: to fill the wheelbarrow again and again, push it through the forest, and dump it out. I didn't have to think about; just had to do it. Today will be the same. It hasn't rained again but it has been overcast both days and that's good; that keeps the mud from hardening. I can hardly believe what I'm grateful for--overcast skies and difficult, mindless mud-shoveling labor. December 25 I finally got through shoveling all that mud from behind the beach house. I hosed it off and when I got done it looked almost normal again. I may have to scrub it with a brush. But I was exhausted--hot, sweaty, muddy. I went down to the water and stripped off my shorts, jumped in and let the ocean roll over me for a while. It felt wonderful. When I finally headed back in I saw that something had washed up on the shore. It was a wine bottle, a Cline Zinfandel 2002, with a cork still stuck in the top. I love the Cline Zinfandel, but there wasn't any left in the bottle. There was a rolled-up note, cliché as it sounds, and on it the words "Blessed Christmas." December 26 I kept wondering where that bottle had come from. On Christmas night I slept out on the sleeping platform and could have sworn that I saw a light on the horizon. A boat? Would that explain it? Some well-wishing sailor with a preference for Cline Zinfandel who had steered near enough to my island to toss a bottle over the stern? I wouldn't have seen him (her?), what with all the work I was doing behind the house. And so I spent a good part of the day yesterday walking along the beach toward the southern end of the island, just to see if I could find any other evidence. I did. About two miles south of here, just where the cliffs start and you can't go any farther along the beach, I found some footprints. Just one set. Rather small, delicate feet. It made me wonder if someone had pulled in to the shore here before sailing on around the cliffs to the other side of the island. I made up my mind to have a look the next day--today--but it's still early. I'm just having coffee. And wondering whose footprints those were and if she is still on the island. December 27 Yesterday I saddled up Pina, one of the Marquesan ponies I keep here, and rode the ridge trail up to the collapsed cone of the ancient volcano that made this island. From there I could see the entire shoreline, more or less, and when I looked to the southwest I saw a boat anchored in a small cove I have visited only once before. I had brought the binoculars and when I looked I could see someone moving around on the deck of the sailboat, a woman, wearing a white one-piece bathing suit. Well! She was trespassing. Someone had to confront her. So I picked my way down the mountain carefully and rode up to the edge of the cove. There she was, filling water bottles from a bucket. I called out a cheerful hello and she turned around, startled, spilling the bucket. "Damn!" she said. "I walked a half mile for that bucket of water!" "You walked a half mile on my property," I laughed. "May I come aboard?" She nodded and I dismounted, tied Pina to a tree, kicked off my boots, stripped off my jeans and T-shirt, and dived into the cove in my boxers. I swam the distance in a few dozen easy strokes and climbed up the chrome ladder on the back. I shook the water from my hair and pushed it back with one hand so I could get a good look at her. Wow. December 27 She was so beautiful! It took me a minute to remember what I wanted to say to her, and then I did: "What are you doing on my island?" "I'm not on your island," she said with a mischievous grin. "I'm on my boat." "Well, your boat is in my cove." "And you are on my boat," she said, stepping forward menacingly. "OK, OK," I laughed. "Truce!" And then I asked her who she was and what she was doing there. She said her name was Monique, and that she was sailing as far away as she could. She had started from Papeete a couple of days before and was just stocking up on fresh water before she continued. I told her I didn't mind her stocking up on fresh water, but I did mind her complete disregard for island courtesy--the least she could do is ask. She told me that she used to visit this island all the time when she was a girl, that it was her favorite of all the small islands, and in some ways she thought of it as her own. She apologized, and said she should have asked. "I would have given you all the water you needed," I said, smiling, "and cooked dinner for you." "Well!" she said, arching those beautiful eyebrows, "is it too late to accept that offer?" "Not at all." I swam back to shore just long enough to untie Pina and send him back toward the barn. He knows the way. And then I sidestroked back to her sailboat with my boots, jeans, and shirt in one hand. "You didn't have to bring those," she said, teasing me. "Wouldn't want to distract you while you're sailing," I shrugged, stepping into my jeans. And then we weighed anchor and headed toward the beach house. Backstory True life-changing events only happen when you don't expect them. That's by definition. When you know what's coming, you're at least mentally prepared to make decisions. You can war-game out what you can do. The real deal, now -- that's when you go on instinct. I was minding my own business on that fall day. And when I say "minding my own business" I'm using the English language in precise terms. When you have to build from scratch a second time, you're a little more careful, a little more meticulous, than you were the first time. When you've lost it all and then some, you know already how much it hurts and avoiding that pain becomes central in your life. So there I was at Johnson Realty (Texas version), getting ready to head out to lunch, when one of the secretaries walked into my office. "Hugh, there's someone here who wants to look at a rental property. Sorry to bother you, but there isn't anyone available to work with her because Irene called out with the flu." "Don't worry, Janice," I said, "I'll handle it. Thanks." She bustled out and I headed to the lobby of the office. Yeah, I'm the boss, but showing properties and stuff is what I do best. It's how we stay in business, and after what happened first time around, I don't like leaving things to chance. I'm happy to do it myself. It was when I got to the lobby and saw who the prospective renter was that the whole world came to a stop. It took me back five years, and to another state, and a business that I lost, not because of a bad market or lack of effort, but from trusting the wrong person. After going to college for a business degree in North Carolina, I stuck around and built a booming realty business thanks to a decade of hard work. I'd sunk all of my time and energy into my career, leaving nothing much in the way of time for a personal life, but by the time I reached my mid-30's it had paid off in a big way. Then Lucy Neils joined the staff. She had just gotten her real estate license and seemed hungry to make good. Lucy had an 8-year old daughter she was raising by herself after two ugly divorces. I liked her attitude and determination to close sales. And I have to admit, she was smoking hot. Lucy was 5-foot-2 with red hair, a voluptuous figure, and an outgoing personality. She was honest about her lack of experience, telling me that she knew she could sell but that she needed a mentor to teach her the ropes. She said she wanted to pick my brain because I had the top agency in town and she wanted to learn from the best. Single, 35, unattached, and rather naïve about women -- I was flattered, then hooked, and then things progressed rapidly and naturally from there. She was an apt pupil at real estate, and a pretty good teacher at things horizontal. I wasn't inexperienced, but she took me places that I never dreamed even existed. It took just six months before we were married. And I reveled in a new-found family. Her daughter was vivacious , smart as a whip, and just plain sweet. Randi and I bonded almost instantly. Her sperm donor of a father, then her mother's second husband never gave the girl any attention. When I came along, it was like a door had opened for her. She got involved in soccer and brought home good grades in school, especially in math and the sciences. Life couldn't be better. Then it got ugly. After a couple of years, Lucy's insatiability in bed had been sated a bit. I figured it was just how things went in a marriage. You know, after the honeymoon period, things would slack off a bit and settle into a more normal routine. Well, yes and no. She was getting sated not just by me, but being a trusting soul, I never had a clue. When I discovered she had been cheating, I was devastated. The breakup and divorce with Lucy was nasty. The ex got zero in alimony thanks to her cheating. North Carolina divorce law rocks. I ended up selling the business. Usually, I would have fought tooth and nail to keep the house. After all, it came thanks to all my hard work. But I was worried about Randi. After five years, I realized that Lucy was a shitty mom. She really didn't care all that much about her daughter -- it was all about her, first last and always. I figured leaving that bitch Lucy with the house would at least insure her daughter would have a roof over her head. I also made a deal on the QT with my attorney and set up a trust fund Randi could tap to help her go to college. I wanted it kept secret until she turned 18, and her mother was never to be told of it, no matter what. Leaving Randi was hard, but I explained to her that I had to get out of there and go clear my head and make a new start. With all that had happened, there was no way I was sticking around. The memories were just too vivid and nasty. Randi was mature for her years, and said she understood, though she looked crushed that I was leaving. It hurt me too, but I had to go for my own sanity. I had done what I could. So, I packed my bags, went halfway across the country, and never looked back. I returned to my home state of Texas and started over. Good habits bring good results, and in the intervening five years I was almost back to where I'd been before the world came crashing down around my ears. There she was -- Randi, but all grown up. And oh brother, had she grown up. She had shown the promise of great beauty when I left, but she was so good-looking it almost hurt my eyes. In a way it did hurt my eyes because she looked so much like her bitch of a mother. She saw me, and her face lit up in a smile. "Hugh!" she said, and ran over to me to give me a hug. I was stunned, but I hugged her right back. It was good to see she hadn't changed that much. She seemed happy and upbeat. Deep down, I'd been worried about how all the turmoil in her life would affect her. I had tried not to think about her for the past five years because I had that feeling of guilt that I'd abandoned her. But her smile was infectious, and any self-reproach I'd felt melted away. "Randi, it's good to see you. What in the world are you doing out here?" I asked. The smile melted off of her face. "I'm in the middle of transferring to the school here in town. I had to get away from Carolina, and the engineering program here is good." "What's wrong? What happened?" "Hugh, it's a long story. Not worth telling right now. I'm trying to find a new apartment. I've been out here for about seven months, and my roommate just bailed on me. I'm trying to establish in-state residency to cut down on the tuition costs." "Smart move. That should save you about $3500 a semester -- maybe more." "Multiply that by five, since I'm halfway done with my sophomore year." She smiled. "I can do the math, you know." I smiled back. "Engineering, eh? I'm not surprised. You always got good grades in math and science." "You bet. Anyway, I'm looking for an apartment that's not too far from campus. Probably on the south side of town is what I can afford." "I usually don't handle the rentals, but let me get the paperwork on what we've got. Tell you what -- it's almost noon. Why don't I take you to lunch and we can figure out where to go and what to see?" She agreed, so I went back to the main sales room, grabbed the rental list and we got in my car and headed out. Randi suggested a sub sandwich, since it was quick and cheap, quick being more important. We went inside, got our order and sat down at a big table to give me room to spread out the papers. I hadn't paid much attention to the rental properties that we were managing, so I was starting from scratch. But it sure didn't take long to get familiar with things, since pretty much everything was taken. Late September in a college town means a lot of rental properties that are already taken. What was left was pretty crappy stuff in less than ideal parts of town. That's when I asked her the most important question. "Randi, how long do you have to find a new place, and do you have a roommate lined up yet?" "No roomie yet, and I have two weeks to be out of my current apartment." I was shocked. "Two weeks? What happened, and what have you been doing?" She sighed. "Hugh, nothing's been going right. My current roommate has to go home to take care of her mom. She was diagnosed with cancer two weeks ago. Lois is 45 and divorced and her kids are long gone. She's the only one that can take over up in Oklahoma. Almost all the furniture in the apartment is hers. I have almost nothing. I'm going to have to dip into my college fund to get some minimal furniture, regardless. Where I'm waitressing, no one is looking to move, so I'm out of luck there. "It boils down to this. I have to find something cheap and fast, or I'm going to have to borrow couches soon. I'm not real picky here. I'm just looking for someplace halfway livable." "You said you have a college fund. How much do you have in it right now?" She looked down at the table, and then looked me straight in the eye. "I've spent $10,000 of it so far. Hugh, you do the math. I bet you know exactly how much I have left. After all, you're the one that set up the anonymous trust account." I tried to look confused. "What do you mean?" "Oh, please. Cut it out. I don't have anyone else who gives enough of a rip about me to do something like that. You know I don't have any family except my mother. Well, that and whoever she might be shacking up with at the moment. Nobody worth a damn since you." She let out an exasperated sigh. "Nobody before you, either. And I don't blame you for leaving. I totally get why you hauled ass out of Carolina. But you did something noble before you left, and I don't have the words to thank you for it. "I don't know what you're talking about." Then I smiled. "But I figure that leaves you $20,000. If you're talking $3,000 per semester in tuition and fees, that leaves you on the ragged edge in paying for school. The inflated cost of school is amazing. Five years ago, $30,000 would have covered four years somewhere." "That's why I've been waitressing since I got to Texas. Now, what the hell choices do I have?" And that's when instinct took over for me. The solution was blindingly obvious, as I sat at the table, mopping up the oil that dribbled from the Italian sub I'd just finished. "Randi, I have a 3-bedroom house north of town. I'm living by myself. I'm bored out of my mind when I'm there. Tell you what -- this is when family is supposed to help out. Why don't you move in with me? We won't worry about the rent. All you have to do is help out with housework and chores around the house. We'll split that 50-50. You can claim me as stepfather if it'll help with getting you Texas residency. Plus, you'll have your own room, your own bathroom, and you can have peace and quiet for studying. And if you're going to be engineering major, there's going to be a lot of studying going on." "Hugh, are you serious? Really? Really?" She looked like she might break down in tears. "Oh my God, thank you, thank you." "Randi, you've been dealt a shit hand all your life. Your father is worthless, your mom is a waste of space, and you've been on your own practically since birth. With all that, you've managed to be an A-student, become a beautiful young woman, and you're a good person. A really, really good person. You deserve to have something good happen." I gave her a smile. "Now, when do you want to move in?" "Yesterday," she laughed. "But how about Friday morning?" "That's fine. I'll arrange with the boss to take the day off. Will you need a truck or anything to get your stuff moved?" "I wish. I don't have that much. I can cram it all in my car." She paused. "I can't believe this is happening!" "Believe it baby," I said. "Time for some good things in your life." I gave her the address, and we agreed to meet up at 10 am two days later. Of course, that meant a lot of work for me. I'd kinda let the place go to hell a little bit, so I actually took Thursday off as well, and spent the time cleaning out both bedrooms and de-crustifying the kitchen and everywhere else. And believe me, there was a lot of crust. We're talking bachelor living at its finest here. Friday morning rolled around and right on schedule I heard a car turn into the driveway and make its way through the trees to the house. Her car wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, but it certainly wasn't a Cadillac. When Randi got out of the car I was stunned. She was an absolute vision, wearing a Henley shirt and tight shorts. Her tits seemed huge on her small frame, showing a good bit of cleavage thanks to the half-buttoned shirt. Her ass was in proportion, round and for lack of a better word, ripe. I suddenly realized what thoughts I was having about this quasi-daughter of mine, and I was ashamed. She broke through to my befuddled brain when she gave me a big smile and yelled out "Hi, Hugh. Ready to carry a lot of stuff, I hope!" "Absolutely," I replied, walking to her and doing my best to give her a daddy-style hug. "Let's get started." We each took a handful of the clothes on top of the pile and walked into the house. The master bedroom was at the end of a hallway and took up the whole right side of that part of the house. The other two bedrooms were on the left side of the hallway. The one furthest back had my computer in it and served as my office. We turned into what was going to be her bedroom. The room had basic furniture -- a bed, a dresser, a nightstand with a lamp, and a desk. It also had a good-sized walk-in closet. She looked around after we set the first trip's worth of clothes on the bed, and she seemed happy. "This is perfect," she said happily. "It's actually bigger than what I had before." "Good, glad you like it," I replied. "Let's get the rest of the stuff." It took about six more trips, but we finally got all of her stuff out of her car and into the house. As he started sorting through all the stuff that was dumped into the room, I headed out to give her time get things put away. Then my phone rang. There was a problem at the office, and they needed me in immediately. I headed to the back of the house to apologize to Randi. She assured me she didn't mind, and told me that she had to go to work later in the afternoon, so she probably wouldn't be around when I got back. I headed into the office to put out the fire, and found out that I would have to deal with more issues on Saturday, and that it would take a full day to take care of business. The way it worked out, I didn't even get a chance to see Randi again until Sunday, because she was scheduled to work on Saturday night as well. With all that was going on, I didn't have time to worry a whole lot about it. I just did what I had to do, and headed on home Saturday evening after 7:00. When you own the business, sometime it just owns you, and you learn to live with that fact. When I got back that night, the house had a different feel to it. She might not have been there at the moment, but the place seemed different. The living room looked more organized and the kitchen had been straightened up even further. When I opened the refrigerator, there was a lot more food in there -- healthier type food, to be totally honest, and it just seemed more, well, homey than it had been before. Call it a subtle feminine touch that I hadn't seen in at least five years. But I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about it. It'd been a rough two days, and I crashed long before she came home. When I rolled out of bed, it wasn't because an alarm woke me up at 10 am. Instead, it was the aroma of bacon cooking. Seriously, what guy doesn't love bacon? I threw on a pair of gym shorts and headed out to the kitchen. Randi was there, scrambling up some eggs, wearing a somewhat ratty looking t-shirt and shorts. She looked up from her culinary labors. "Good morning," she said with a smile. "I hope you like your eggs scrambled." "Yep. Prefer 'em that way. Besides, who am I to complain? You've been busy around here. Sorry I haven't been around." "You've been busy. You have a business to run, and all. Besides, I've been working a lot, too. It's not like our schedules have matched." She finished the eggs, got the plates out and dished everything up. We didn't talk for a little while. It would have been an insult to the food. Everything was excellent. I'd kind of forgotten about home cooking lately. I complimented her on the breakfast when we were finishing up. She gave me a thanks with a sunny smile. Then I told her that the place looked cleaner than it ever had been, given my sloppy bachelor ways. "That's a pet peeve of mine, Hugh," she said. "I had a perfect example in my mother -- an example of how NOT to do it. She was lazy as hell, and after you left it got worse. I got sick of the mess and vowed that I wasn't going to be like her." "You've certainly succeeded, and thank you very much for all you've been doing." I stood up, and started clearing the table. "And now it's my turn to take care of things. These dishes are mine, okay? You go relax or whatever, Randi." "Actually, I'm going to go to the gym and do some cardio before I have to go to work. I'll see you a little later." After she left, I got the paper and sat down on the couch and started reading. After about an hour, I dozed off. It must have been a couple hours later when I opened my eyes and saw Randi walking through the living room, all sweaty after her workout. I gave a little start before I remembered that she was living there now. "Have a nice nap, Hugh?" she laughed. "Yeah. Guess I was more tired than I thought." "Happens when you work for a living." She headed back toward her room. She came out a few seconds later and headed to her bathroom, apparently to take a shower. I went into my office and began dealing with some paperwork from the office, getting things ready for the next week. I wandered out of the office a couple of hours later just as she emerged from her room. I had never asked her what restaurant she worked at. I found out then. She was wearing tight orange shorts and a white Hooter's shirt with cleavage for days. I must have stood there with my mouth open because she started laughing. "Yes, Hugh, I work at Hooter's." She looked down at her chest. "I think these qualify me to work there, don't you think? 36DD is good advertising for the restaurant." "Uh, uh, uh, yeah," I stammered. I shook my head. "Sorry, you just caught me off-guard." "The look on your face was priceless. If I ever write a Visa commercial, I'll have to remember that look." "You're a real comedienne, missy." "I try. I'll see you later, Hugh." She laughed again and headed out the door. All I could do was laugh and shake my head. "Hooters," I muttered. "I should have known." For the next week, we didn't see much of each other, except in passing. A couple of times we had dinner together, but for the most part our schedules remained opposite -- me during regular business hours, her doing the nighttime bar/restaurant thing. I had a pretty good week. We closed on a few houses, which meant I got a cut. I managed to close three of them myself and that meant a nice chunk of change. Friday night was a night to relax. I came home, turned the TV on to catch the Rangers game, and drank a Saint Arnold or four. Hey, I was back home in Texas. Gotta live the dream. After the game was over (they lost), I picked up one of the old Travis McGee novels and put my feet on the coffee table and read. At about midnight, Randi's car pulled into the driveway and she came into the house. She looked just a little bit tired. "Rough day?" I asked. "Long, that's all," she responded. "Tell you what. You sit down on the couch right there, put up your feet, and I'll get you a beer. How does that sound?" "Like heaven, that's what." She sighed, kicked off her shoes, and put her feet up on the table. I did as promised, and came back with a cold beer. She took a big swig, and let out a contented sigh. "Oh, my. That tastes so good." Then she took another gulp. Backstory You could see the tension drain away. We began small talking, and I got her to talk about the day she had. It started with a kid dumping an entire large Coke all over the table and drenching the wings she'd just brought his family. At the end of the evening it was a pair of drunks that tried to get a little grabby. They got tossed but those two incidents made the whole day a trial for her. "The kid was bad," she said, "but those creeps at the end just really pissed me off. You know, 99 percent of the customers are great, but there's always a jerk hanging around to ruin things. And you know what? Almost all of the guys who try things with me are wearing wedding rings. I hate those assholes!" "That does suck." Time to change the subject. "How are you adjusting to the new setup here?" "Oh, Hugh, I'm loving it. This place is great. Thank you!" "Randi, like I said, my pleasure. It's nice to have company." Then the four beers I'd had loosened my tongue. "If you don't mind, I want to ask you something. Do you plan on telling your mother about where you're living right now?" "Hugh, no fucking way, if you'll pardon my French. I never want to talk to that lying bitch ever again. Ever. And I certainly don't want to expose you to her. You're best rid of her. And so am I." "Ex-wives are one thing, but she's your mother -- the only one you'll ever have. I don't want to see you doing something you'll regret the rest of your life. " "If you knew what she did to me, you wouldn't even have brought the subject up." "C'mon Randi. I know she's a piece of work, but she's still your mom." "Not any more. She's dead to me. You want to know why? Tell you what, get us a couple of more beers. This is a long story." This sounded like something I needed to know. Part of me dreaded hearing about Lucy, but somehow I knew she really wanted to tell me what happened. So I went to the fridge and pulled out two more beers and brought them to the couch. We settled in, and she started what was an amazing story. "Hugh, when you left you shook her up pretty good. She figured she could get away with anything, and when you not only called her bluff but went through with it, she was stunned. She couldn't believe it. The guy she had been cheating with on you was out the door. The problem was that there was a parade after that. And we're talking quantity, not quality. "Even at age 14, I knew that this was not the way to go. The one thing my mother provided was an example of how not to live your life. She exuded desperation. The gravy train left the station while she was in the restroom, and she didn't know what to do next. "I did, though. I knew that getting good grades would be my ticket out. I gave up soccer right after you left. I wasn't a bad player, but I wasn't going to get a scholarship out of it, and to be honest, running up and down the field was starting to get painful. I really started to develop boobs right after you left and I was sick of hearing jokes about getting black eyes and stuff. "I did decide to lift weights and stay in shape -- and I'm still doing it, since I really don't want to have back problems later in life. Anyway, I avoided boys until right before my senior year, since I had that great example of what not to do. "Meanwhile, mom started drinking more. That didn't help her judgment in picking out men. One time after I turned 16, she got drunk and started talking to me about how she'd messed things up and ran you off. She was whining 'Oh, woe is me, why couldn't I keep my legs crossed, he was a good man and good in bed too' yadda, yadda, yadda. "I told her I didn't want to hear it. She messed it up all by herself, and I told her bluntly that the self-pity act pissed me off. Her attitude toward me changed after that. She was almost hostile. It was like I'd done something to her. I just wrote it off as more self-pity. I should have paid closer attention. "Anyway, I wound up with a boyfriend my senior year. Terry was really nice and sweet and just a little bit geeky. That was fine with me. I'd already planned on math and engineering, so we had school in common. "Hugh, hormones are amazing things. I already knew that I was going to have a high sex drive. Genetics took care of that. Terry was ready for anything of course. He's a guy, and 17-year old guys are hormones on legs. Well, so was I. Go figure. "We finally took the big plunge around Thanksgiving, and my, oh my, was it something. We were each other's first, and we learned together. They say practice makes perfect, and we practiced every chance we got. "Mom might be a bitch, but she put me on the pill when I turned 16. I protested, told her that it wasn't necessary. She told me that it was. She was right about that. I have to give her credit for that. It made prom night more fun. "There was a cloud hanging over it all. Terry had lined up a scholarship to Boston College. I wasn't going to be going anywhere. Even with a scholarship, I couldn't have afforded to go out of town. Besides, there were five colleges in town to pick from. "Then Terry made it an easy decision. I caught him necking with Marybeth Wilson out in the school parking lot. He was kissing her and had his hand under her Pirate t-shirt feeling up her boobs, which were a lot smaller than mine, I might add. That fact probably gave my pride an extra bruise. That led to a very public break-up. I was pissed, hurt, and angry. I swore off boys because all they do is break your heart. "I tried to put all my energy into school, and I wound up acing out my final semester. Of course, I learned something you already know. Once you start having regular sex and the supply is cut off, life just plain sucks. You're probably not going to be surprised when I tell you Terry and I made up about three weeks later. I made it clear that we were done when he left for BC, but a Friends With Benefits scenario until then was okay by me. "He left, and I started college in the fall. I'd picked up a waitressing job at the burger joint/sports bar across the street from the college so I could make ends meet. Being right there for work and school made life a little easier. "I vowed to be more picky. I'd seen my mother's Hump of the Week crew pass through the house, and I wasn't going to go there, no matter what. Midway through the second semester I met Sandy in a calculus class. He was a 21-year old junior who was in school on the five-year plan. That should have been a tip-off, but he was very nice -- good-looking, acted like a gentleman, and so I fell for him. "I'm proud of one thing. We spent a lot of time at his place, but I never let all that activity interfere with my schoolwork. I got A's and I never missed a shift at work. I did without sleep, but at least I was in bed, right?" She laughed a little, then stopped and looked at me, and I could tell she was starting to get emotional. She slid over next to me, put her head on my shoulder and curled up, not so much with me but in a defensive posture. She didn't look me in the eye. She started staring at her feet. "Hugh, this is the rough part. He wasn't in a hurry to meet my mom, and I certainly wasn't in a hurry to make it happen. I was embarrassed by her. She'd gained about 30 pounds since you left. She'd gotten kind of chunky, but half of it went to her boobs, so she was still popular with the guys. It didn't hurt she was the town bicycle. You know, everyone gets a ride? "The holidays came, and somehow he wound up at our house for Thanksgiving dinner. Mom was at her worst. I could tell she was looking at him like she'd enjoy having him for dessert. He was very polite, but I could tell that he had his own ideas about stuffing her turkey. He did his best not to let on, and certainly didn't do anything to lead her on. Still, it hung over everything like a cloud. "I got snappish with him when we left, and he apologized and did his best to comfort me. That included taking me back to his place and wearing me out two or three times. "About three weeks later I was at work on my regular shift. It was slow, so they sent me home. And I bet you can guess what happened next, can't you." I looked at her face. There were tears welling up in the corners of her eyes and she had this haunted look. "Yeah, I think I know where this is heading." "Yeah. When I got to the house, I saw a car like his parked down the street. I didn't think anything of it. No tag in the front in Carolina, right? Her car was in the driveway, but the front door was locked. I opened it quietly and heard noises coming from her bedroom. I was thinking, great, Hump of the Month Club. "I had to walk past her room to get to mine. The door was open, and I saw Sandy and mom fucking doggie style. I was stunned. I got there just as he was finishing up. He gave a big old grunt just as mom yelled out and you could tell they were both cumming. Just as he pulled his dick out of her pussy he sensed that someone else was in the house. He turned around and saw me. "Everything froze. I still can't get the picture out of my head. He's kneeling between mom's legs, jizz dripping from his dick. Mom's looking over her shoulder, cum leaking out of her pussy. Both of them had eyes as big as saucers. I have no idea how long we stood there, staring at each other. "Then I started screaming 'What the fuck!' and other stuff. Sandy was trying to tell me it wasn't what it looked like. What really got me was the look on mom's face. There was this look of satisfaction for maybe three seconds, like she'd gotten revenge on me for something. Then it changed and she looked freaked out and tried apologizing as well. "I'm glad I didn't have gun handy. I would have shot both of them. Instead, I got the hell out of there. I was shaking and crying. I drove around a while, found a place to park and got my shit together. When I got back, I told mom not to say a single word to me, ever again. "I got through the last week of classes and took my finals. I managed to get all A's. I don't know how, because those two weeks were a blur. I had a professor who had connections with the school here in Texas, and I got all my shit packed up and came out here right before Christmas. The only gift I wanted to give mom was a punch in the nose. Instead, I gave myself the gift of a new start. The bitch is dead to me." When she stopped, she looked at me. Her face had tear streaks, but also had a look of determination. That changed to concern when she realized that I was shaking and close to losing it myself. I thought five years separation had healed all wounds. Guess I was mistaken. "Hugh, what's wrong? You okay?" I took a deep breath, then I swallowed hard. "Randi, I'm fine. It's just that that story hit way too close to home. Unfortunately, I know exactly how you feel. EXACTLY!" The last word came out in a shout. She recoiled a bit, then I said, "Sorry." When I apologized, she gave me a big hug. "Oh my God, Hugh. Are you all right? What happened?" "How do you think I found out your mother was cheating on me?" "You walked on in her fucking a guy?" "No. Two guys." "Holy shit," she said in a near-whisper. "Yeah. It was mid-morning. I had a big meeting to go to on a potential subdivision where we would have been the sole agent. I'd forgotten some paperwork so I went back to get it. There was a strange car in the driveway, and I was wondering what the hell was going on. I found out the hard way. "It belonged to a guy who was looking to buy a house. He and a buddy of his were in the bedroom with her doing a tag team. When I walked in, she was on her hands and knees on the bed sucking one off while the other was pumping away from behind. I'll never forget that sight as long as I live. "She was on record as having an appointment to show a property to this guy. Silly me -- I figured she was showing him a house, not the personal property between her legs. I managed to keep my cool enough not to hit anyone. Now you know why the divorce went through so quickly. "I never did find out all the details of what she had been doing. Hell, I really didn't WANT to know. I had enough so I could get out of that sham marriage clean and quick, and that's what I did. And that's why I had to move. I had to get out of there for my own sanity." I stared off into space for about 30 seconds. Then I looked over at Randi. Her face was streaked with fresh tears flowing down her cheeks. She buried her face in my chest, and I put my arm around her to comfort her. I heard her say a muffled "I'm so sorry." "Hey, babe, it's not your fault, okay? Your mother was the slut. You didn't do anything wrong." She started sobbing, then after a time looked up at me. "Yes, I did do something wrong. I knew she was sleeping around on you and I never told you about it." "What?" She stopped and tried to compose herself. She finally spoke in a hushed tone. "It was about six months before you filed for divorce. It was a Saturday. I had been at the library near the high school working on a paper for school. I had planned on being there all day, but I only stayed for about an hour. Remember, it wasn't far from home. "As I walked up toward the house, I saw a strange car in the driveway. I slowed down and ducked behind a tree. I saw some guy come out of the house, and I saw mom standing there smiling at him as he left. She wasn't exactly fully dressed. "I might have been 13 years old, but I'm not stupid. I KNEW what she had been up to. I guess I didn't do a very good job of hiding myself because her expression changed all of a sudden, like she'd seen me. She hurried up and closed the door. I got the hell out of there and went back to the library. "God, Hugh, I'm so sorry. I should have told you what I saw. But I was scared. I was scared you'd leave me like all the other guys had left me and mom. You were the only one who really gave a shit about me and I didn't want to lose you. It wasn't fair to you." "Your mother is a piece of shit. She put her 13-year old daughter in an impossible position. Randi, it's not your fault. You never, ever should have had to deal with that. You have nothing to apologize for." "Yes, I do. There were other things that you didn't know. Her first husband, my sperm donor father, he was a piece of shit. But her second husband was only around for six months. The divorce was her fault, not his like she told you. The guy left her because he caught her in bed with another man." "Holy shit." "She told me later on, that one time she got really drunk, that she had been messing around on you for years, and she started crying and saying she couldn't understand why she did all that, along with a bunch of other self-serving bullshit." All I could do was shake my head in amazement. "Hugh, I knew you lived her a while ago. In fact, that's one of the reason I chose to move her. I wasn't going to look for you or anything. You deserved to live your life in peace. I didn't deserve to be around you after I didn't tell you what I knew so you could protect yourself against my whore of a mother. But knowing you were here was a comforting thought." I leaned over and kissed her forehead. "That's quite a compliment." She started crying again, quietly. "There's more, Hugh. I'll bet you remember what happened the day I saw her with that guy. You had been out of town all week on a business trip." "You know what? I do remember. I had been at a conference in Raleigh with a bunch of other agencies. We were working out some stuff to keep the legislature off our backs. I didn't get out of there until late on Saturday night. When I got home, your mother gave me a greeting that was pretty intense. I mean, she just dragged me into the bedroom and wore me out. We got kind of loud because she said you were at a friend's house and staying overnight." "She lied to you. I was in my room the whole time. When I got home from the library, she started yelling at me for not doing my chores around the house. She was so nasty about it that it scared me. She told me to get in my room and stay there and not even come out until the next day, when you and she would deal with me. I did as I was told. I was pretty freaked out by all that had happened that day and really needed time to think about everything. By the time you got home I was sound asleep. "When I woke up, I could hear you two in the bedroom. The door wasn't closed, and I could hear everything. I snuck out of bed and quietly went to your doorway. There was a light on the bedroom so I could see, but the hallway itself was quite dark, and I picked a spot where I was in the shadows. "You were lying on your back, and mom was lying on top of you in a 69 position with her head toward me. It was clear you were licking her pussy from the way her hips were grinding. She had her hand wrapped around your cock and was giving you a blowjob. She was lifting her head up and down and I could tell her mouth was stretched wide. Your cock looked so huge. "She looked up and I knew she saw me in the shadows. She gave me a big smile and started to talk to you. 'Oh, yes, eat my pussy,' she said to you and then started sucking your cock again. I was getting so wet watching you two. Then she stopped giving you that blowjob. She arched up a little bit and that's when she started moaning and I knew she was cumming. "When she finished, she lifted up, and said to you 'I need that big cock in me.' She didn't turn to face you. Instead, she got on top of you reverse cowgirl style, and lowered her pussy onto your dick. The whole time she was looking right at me. You grabbed her by the hips and she started riding you, throwing her head back and saying 'Fuck yes!' and 'Oh God you're big.' "I saw her stiffen and she came again, but you didn't. She just kept on humping and humping, and maybe a minute later she came again, but this time you did too. I couldn't stop watching. When you finished, my mother rose up a little bit and I could see the sperm running out of her pussy. She reached down with one finger to scoop up a little gob of it, and with her eyes still locked on mine, slipped her finger into her mouth and licked off, with a little hum, like she was enjoying a meal. "At that point, I snuck back into my room. My pussy was so wet, and I had to rub myself just to calm down. I finally had my own quiet orgasm, and I just lay there, shaking with fear and lust and other emotions I couldn't name. I couldn't believe I'd just watched my mother not only get fucked, but get fucked while she knew I was watching and she didn't say anything about it. "I fell asleep. It must have been a half-hour later when I woke up. I could hear you snoring like a freight train. Then I realized what woke me up. My mother was standing next to my bed, still naked. I could see your cum running down her thigh as she stood next to me. "She saw I was awake. She kneeled down so our heads were close together and she whispered to me, 'You liked watching that, didn't you?' All I could do is nod. 'You're a little slut, just like me. I liked being fucked by that huge cock. It felt so good inside me. You'd like it inside you too, wouldn't you?' "All I could do is make a whimpering sound. 'You rubbed your pussy after you snuck back here, didn't you? Yes, you did. I can tell. You wish that cum was inside your pussy not mine, don't you? Oh yes you do, you little slut.' Before I could move, she put her hands under the sheets and found out that I wasn't wearing any panties and that my pussy was sopping wet. "She gave a little laugh. 'I sure gave you the right name, you randy little slut. I think you were here earlier today, weren't you?' I nodded. 'I thought so,' she said. 'Well we each have our little secrets, don't we? You don't tell mine, I won't tell yours.' Backstory "She wasn't done talking. 'I'll make a deal with you. I'll set it up so you can watch us fuck whenever you want. I'll make sure the door doesn't close right, and you can stand out in the hallway and watch his dick slide into my pussy all you want. But you have to keep my secrets so that I can keep yours.' "I knew it was the Devil's bargain, but I agreed. I had to watch. I had to. Even at 13, I was so horny all the time, and watching you two was amazing. You made her cum more than once almost every time. I think it was she liked the idea of her daughter watching her fuck and that turned her on so much that she would just cum and cum." I was stunned at the confession. And suddenly everything made sense. I remembered coming back from that business trip and how Lucy just plain attacked me and went buck-wild and turned into the multi-orgasmic machine she had been when we first married. I enjoyed the hell out of that until I caught her in our bed. What a fool I had been. She was worse than I had thought. And what had she done to her daughter? Randi was stronger than I had imagined. Going through all that, she still managed to be a near straight-A student. She was like her mother, without being like her mother. Amazing. And then she made the comments that would change both our lives forever. "I'm so guilty. I'm a liar and worse. I never told you what you needed to know. I did it because I didn't want you to leave. I wanted to see you naked." She put both of her arms around me. "You were my Daddy and my protector. I wanted my Daddy to come to me in my room at night and protect me. I wanted my Daddy to come to my room and love me, and I wanted to show my Daddy that I could love him better than my mommy." And then she kissed me. We're talking full-on, lips to lips, wanton woman kiss, mouth open, tongue seeking. I answered in kind. My hand slipped to the middle of her back and I pressed her closer as the kiss progressed. It had been a long time since I'd been kissed like that, even longer since I'd been kissed by a woman as beautiful and desirable as her, and certainly it had been forever since my head swam like that from just a kiss. When our lips parted for air, she murmured "Daddy" and swung her right leg over mine to straddle my waist, and then we resumed the kiss. My hands roamed more freely, cupping her ass, rubbing and caressing her. She broke the kiss again and leaned back, stripping off her shirt in one motion. She was wearing a front-close bra. She reached down and unsnapped it and it joined her shirt in a pile on the floor. "Oh, baby, your tits are perfect," I said breathlessly. "Daddy, I want you suck my tits. Please Daddy. My nipples need your tongue." Who was I to say no? I reached up and caressed those huge, sexy globes, running by thumbs over her erect nipples. She shivered, and I responded by pulling her toward me and enveloping the tips of her tits with my mouth, sucking gently, then greedily, one after the other. As I gave her breasts the attention they deserved, she began to grind her pelvis into mine. My dick stiffened, and since I was wearing loose gym shorts, she could feel my erection pressing into her softness at the joining of her legs. I heard her gasp "Daddy" once again, which only renewed my desire as I continued to pleasure her nipples. I felt her hands on my ears, and instead of trying to pull me closer, she pushed me way from her chest. She backed up and got off of my lap and dropped to her knees in front of the sofa. I peeled my shirt off and flung it in the same frantic motion she had just used. She grasped the waistband of my shorts, and as I lifted off the couch, she pulled them down along with my underwear. My cock sprang free and pointed at the ceiling. The look on her face was pure lust. "Daddy, your dick is as big as I remembered. It's perfect." She then bent to the task, literally, taking the tip into her mouth and swirling her tongue around it. "I want to suck your dick, Daddy," she said huskily and began taking it deeper and deeper into her mouth. As her head bobbed up and down, my breath grew ragged. Her technique was perfectly designed to raise my blood pressure -- and raise the cum building in my balls. She lifted her head and withdrew her lips from my cock, and began licking the underside from crown to root, flicking back and forth as she ran down the length. When she reached the base, she extended her tongue to my balls and gave them a quick lick. I let out a moan. She stood up. "Daddy, I'm going to my bedroom. Please come to my room and protect me and come love me," she said in a soft voice and turned to walk away. I struggled to my feet, kicked away my shorts and followed her down the hallway, my stiff rod acting as a compass to guide me to where I realized I'd always longed to be. When I walked into the room, she was standing next to her bed. Her chest was flushed pink with excitement, and the nipples on her huge breasts were still erect. All she was wearing were her tight-fitting orange shorts. I walked up to her, wrapped my arms around her and began an impassioned kiss. After a time, I broke the kiss and stepped back and dropped to my knees. She looked down at me. "Daddy, please take off my panties. I want to be naked for you." "Yes, Baby. Daddy wants you to be naked, too." I reached up and gently peeled her shorts and her panties down her legs, and she stepped out of those final remainders of her work uniform. Her pussy was at eye level, and it was a sight to behold. The hair was trimmed short, which framed her labia perfectly. The lips were beautifully shaped and flushed with her excitement. I looked up at her. "Daddy wants to taste your pussy, Baby." "Please, Daddy. Yes." She took a step back and sat down on the edge of her bed. She lay back onto the sheets. "I'm spreading my legs for you, Daddy. Do you like that?" "Your pussy is perfect, Baby. Do you want me to lick you?" "Oh, Daddy, please eat my pussy!" And with that, I went to work. I slipped my tongue between her distended labia, already soaking wet with her juices. She let out a small gasp, as I ran my tongue higher and higher, eventually reaching her engorged clitoris. I began flicking the clit back and forth, back and forth, and then up and down, caressing the length of it. She grabbed my ears and pulled me closer as she let out a small cry. It was time to move further south. I ran my tongue down her slit once again, searching for and finding the vaginal opening. It was slick and perfect and warm and I proceeded to slide my tongue inside her. I was rewarded with another gasp, this one louder. I withdrew my tongue, then reinserted it and began to tongue-fuck her briskly. "OHDADDY," she cried out. "YES." But as her juices really started flowing, I knew that it was time for the real deal. She made a disappointed sound when I pulled me head from between her legs, but when she saw the look in my eyes, she knew what was next. "Baby, it's time for Daddy to give you what you really need. It's time to fill your tight little pussy. Slide over to the center of the bed." "Yes, Daddy," she said as she complied. "I'm ready for you. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me please, Daddy." "Yes Baby, that's what Daddy's going to do." She spread her thighs, her lust evident. My lust was evident as well, as I slid forward with my erect cock poised at the opening to her pussy. "Daddy's little girl needs to be fucked, and it's time." With that, I kneeled between her legs, slid into the heat and moistness of her, and she let out a moan. "Oh my God, your dick is huge, Daddy. Oh yes," she said as she rocked her pelvis forward to meet my initial thrust. She was incredibly tight, not too tight for me, but I knew that I would have to take my time with her before she would be able to accept the full seven inches. With each thrust, I sank a little deeper into her, rocking slightly forward. "Baby, your pussy is so nice and tight. It's perfect. Do you like Daddy's cock?" "Oh. Yes, Daddy. Your cock fills me up. Fuck me." I finally reached the point where I was able to get it all inside. I felt myself touch bottom of her pussy at the same time. The depth was perfect. That's when I began to pick up the pace. She would let out a little sound with each forward stroke of "aaaahOOF" as I filled up her tight little cunt on each thrust. I let out a little grunt of effort each time. Soon the "aaaahOOF" sounds came in a quickening rhythm as our fucking intensified. In the back of my mind, I noted the sound the box springs made. The bed was old so each thrust caused the springs to creak. It sounded like the old cliché of the motel room fuck. But this was no cliché hotel-room-fuck. This was as intense as anything I'd ever experienced. Her beautiful breasts bobbed up and down as I pounded into her, and as she rocked forward to not only accept me but to take me inside her as deep as she possibly could. I felt her pussy begin to tighten and I knew that she was nearing climax. That's when she started calling out, "DaddyDaddyDaddyohfuckyou'resodeepfuckfuckmeDaddy." And then she went over the edge, explosively, taking me with her. It felt like my mind exploded as began pumping load after load deep inside her. I let out a yell, as did she when we hit climax. It lasted some interminable time -- and then it was over. I leaned back, stunned. I looked down, and there was so much spunk that it had already begun leaking out of her. She slowly regained her senses and looked at me and said, "Thank you, Daddy. I love being full of your cum. That was the most amazing fuck of my life. In fact, you made me squirt. I've never done that before." I looked down at the sheets, and it was true. She'd had an explosive orgasm, the kind that I'd never seen before. The hair on my thighs was also wet from her climax. "Baby, I've never felt anything like that before, ever." "Daddy, I'm real tired. I'm going to go to sleep now. You should probably do the same." "You're right baby. Good night." With that, I pulled my dick out of her pussy and she smiled at me. I leaned over and gave her a kiss, covered her up, got up and walked out of the room. Drained completely, I staggered to my room and fell into bed and went to sleep almost immediately. When I woke up the next day, I felt disoriented. I looked at my alarm clock and saw that it was almost noon. I reached down to scratch my balls and found that my pubic hair was stiff with dried cum. That's when it hit me. That's when I realized what had happened the night before. I had just fucked the girl who was, for all intents and purposes, my daughter. Holy shit! What had I just done? I got up staggered into the kitchen. There was a note left on the table labeled "Hugh." I picked it up and slid the paper out of the envelope. Hugh, As you read this, I suspect you're feeling a little disoriented. In fact, you're probably completely freaked out and feeling guilty, like you've done something wrong. Guess what? You haven't done anything wrong at all. I'm a big girl and I make my own decisions. In fact, I'm a WOMAN, not a girl, and I wasn't forced, seduced, or misled in any way. In fact, if anything, I seduced you. And guess what else? Last night was one of the most amazing nights of my life. What we did was something that I will always treasure. You were wonderful. We were wonderful. And that's the truth. I'm an engineering major, so I'm supposed to be able to use logic and be analytical. Here's my logical side. When I start classes in the winter semester, I'm not going to have time for any kind of a social life anymore. I will have a heavy class load -- and be taking heavy classes. I'll be doing a lot of homework and studying and won't have time to be raising any kind of hell. Yet I'm still a young woman with a lot of drive and passion, and that means if I have to deny a very important part of me, I won't be happy and I won't be successful. Now I know I won't have to do the denial thing. You're here, and I'm here, and we can take care of each other. Of course, I still have all that estrogen coursing through my body, so I'm not going all Spock on you here. I'm still a very emotional person. And my emotions tell me this is the right thing. You and I are both pretty much alone in the world, without blood family. But we have each other. You are the one person in the all the world that I can trust. I know -- I've ALWAYS known -- you are the one person who will never hurt me or cause me pain deliberately. You are the one person that I could count on before, and I know I can count on you now. And you know the same holds true for me. I will never hurt you or cause you pain deliberately. I will be there for you whenever and however you need. I think you've been as lonely as me, and while I'm here at school, we will be there for each other. I don't know what the future will bring. None of us can ever know that. And I know there's a big age difference between us. But for now, that's irrelevant. We have the now -- at least two and a half years of it and maybe more if grad school works out -- and we can take things from there. We'll know by then what the right thing to do will be. I might be making some horrible assumptions right now. But deep down, I don't think so. I believe I understand what's going on with you, and with me, and with us. Let's enjoy this with no guilt and no worries. If this is not what you want, I'll be okay with that, too. I owe you, and I care for you more than you can imagine. I will do everything in my power to make things right for you. I am confident that this feeling is mutual. And to be honest, I discovered that I have a pretty dark side to my personality. It seems you also have a complimentary dark side. The two meshed pretty well last night. They're only part of who we are, and they're only a fantasy. I know that. I want you to realize it too. It's for fun, and nothing more. I hope this note makes you feel better about what we did last night. No matter what, I have no regrets about any of it. Any of it, at all. XOXOXOXO Randi PS: My dark side left your dark side a note. It's in my room, on the bed. RN I reread the note in disbelief. And I realized everything she wrote was true. How the hell did a 19-year old college student figure this out before a grown-ass 45-year old man ever did. Damn. And what about that other note -- that "dark side" thing. I walked into her bedroom and found it. It was in the middle of the mess we left on the bed, tucked inside a pair of panties that had dried cum caked in the crotch, placed in the middle of the stain on the sheets. Damn it was a big stain. I opened up the envelope and began to read. Daddy, I know I'm a bad, bad girl. Only a bad girl would have enjoyed having her Daddy's cock pumping in and out of her pussy as much as I enjoyed it last night. Only a bad girl would have cum so much and enjoyed being full of Daddycum as much as I did. I know I'm going to make more in tips today at work. The men might love looking at my tits and my ass in that tight little uniform, but a freshly fucked woman is even hotter. They can somehow sense that their little waitress loves getting naked and getting fucked and that gets them all worked up and makes them better tippers. They'll look at my big tits and even through my uniform shirt they'll see my nipples are all hard from thinking about getting fucked, and they'll dream about being the ones sucking on them and making them bounce. They'll see me walk around and know instinctively that I'm walking funny because my cunt lips are red and puffy from being pummeled by a huge dick and that I'm tender from being fucked all night long. And they'll know that I loved it because I'm smiling so much. And when they see me lick my lips, they'll know those lips have been wrapped around the shaft of a prick, and that I love having one in my mouth. They'll want to figure out a way to have me to feast on their dicks. They'll glance down at my tight little shorts and somehow sense that my pussy is wet from my thinking about having a big, thick cock filling it like yours did last night. They'll know somehow that my panties are not just moist from my juices, but from cum still leaking from deep inside me. And they'll dream of being the next one to fuck me. But what they won't know that they'll never have a chance. They won't know that it's not just my heart that belongs to Daddy. My tits do, too. So does my ass. And most of all, my pussy is Daddy's to fondle and finger and fuck and fill with nice gooey cum. When I get home from work tonight, I'm going to have to take off my bra immediately, since my nipples will be chafed from rubbing it since they'll be taut all day long while I think about your cock. I'm sure I'll have to take off my panties, too. They'll be soaked from my juices running all day long while I think about how good your huge cock feels inside me. When I walk around in front of you all naked like that, I know you're not going to be happy with me. After all, little girls aren't supposed to parade around in front of their Daddies with their big tits bouncing and tight pussies showing. In fact, you're going to want to punish me for acting like such a slut around you. Making you walk around with your huge cock straining your pants is uncomfortable, and you're going to want to get comfortable. I know you're going to want to punish me for being such a tease. If that means you make me pay for being a naughty girl, I'll have to endure it. I'll have to let you take me back into the bedroom while you tell me how wicked I'm being. I'll have to let you lecture me on how it's wrong to make Daddy's dick all hard and you'll show me how huge and thick your cock has become because I'm showing off my body. That's when you'll make me go to my knees and kiss that cock to show you how sorry I am. But after I suck on it a little while, you'll do what you did last night at make me lay down on the bed and spread my thighs. Then you'll take that beautiful cock head of yours and rub it up and down my slit. Of course, it'll be sopping wet by then. That's when you'll take your cock and slide it inside me and stretch out my pussy lips once again with your thickness and proceed to fuck me deep and hard for a long time. My poor battered twat will have to endure all that punishment again and again and you'll force me to cum again and again and again before you reach the breaking point and pour out the contents of your aching balls deep inside my pussy. I'll lay there on the bed with my cunt all puffy and sore from having my Daddy fuck me again. I'll take my punishment like a big girl. I promise. Baby P.S. I know you're all hard and everything right now, but please don't do anything about it, Daddy. That big, thick, beautiful cock is mine, and so is all that cum. I want it inside me. I smiled and looked down at my dick. Yes, she was right. I was stiff as a board. She really is a wicked little girl. I looked forward to this evening when she got home for work. I was going to have to punish her for her impertinence. But she was also right about one other thing. That cum was hers. And it was going to be inside her. Tonight. The next few years were going to be fun. I was looking forward to them. Backstory Ch. 02 Note: This is Part II of the backstory on Jim and Monique, two grieving lovers who find each other on a private island in the South Pacific. In the previous installment, Jim meets Monique, who has anchored on the far side of his island, secretly, to stock up on fresh water before sailing to Hawaii. He tells her that if she had only asked he would have given her all the fresh water she wanted, and cooked dinner for her, too. In this installment, she takes him up on his offer. ------------ December 27 I fixed us a simple dinner of peppercorn-crusted steak, garlic mashed potatoes, and grilled asparagus with almonds. And then, when everything was ready and the candles were lit I brought out a bottle of Cline Zinfandel. Monique's eyes went wide. "That's my favorite!" she gasped, and that's when I knew that my Christmas wish had come from her. She confessed during dinner. It was a beautiful evening. I had set up the table out on the terrace and the sun had just sunk into the Pacific when we sat down. The sky was saturated with deep pinks and purples and a light breeze was blowing in from the east. She had put on a simple floral skirt and a white tank top and she looked amazing--dark hair blowing around her beautiful face and those big, brown eyes reflecting the candlelight. Wow. She had a great smile (among other things), and she flashed it briefly as she began her story. "I was sailing near your island on Christmas Eve," she said. "As I told you I used to come to this island all the time with my mother and so I guess I just felt drawn here at the start of my trip. I let the boat drift while I had supper and before you know it (here she blushed with embarrassment) I had finished a whole bottle of wine! I was a little drunk. And when I saw your lights in the distance I thought I would just wish you a blessed Christmas, whoever the hell you were. So I wrote that note, stuffed it into the empty bottle, and chucked it in your general direction. I didn't know if it would get there at all. I guess it did." I nodded and told her I had found it on Christmas day, and also how much it had meant to me. She softened a bit when I said that, leaned in a little closer, put a hand on my forearm. I began to wonder if she liked me, but it might have just been the wine. I opened a second bottle. ------------------------- It was during that second bottle of wine that I learned Monique's mother was Polynesian, a native of these islands. Her father was a French diplomat who had come to Papeete back in the 70's, met her mother, and fallen almost instantly in love. They were married within months and within a few years Monique had been born. The combination of French and Polynesian in her was stunningly beautiful. She had spent most of her growing-up years in Paris after her father finished his term of service in the islands. She had learned English at one of the private schools there, under a British professor, which produced the most fetching accent I had ever heard: a kind of French-accented British English with the lilting rhythms of the islands under it all. I propped my chin in my hands and listened to that beautiful voice, letting her tell me everything she wanted to say. We were about halfway through that second bottle when she told me she was making this trip to help herself over a broken heart. "Yes," she sighed, blinking back tears, "I know it sounds crazy, but I thought if I could just get out in my boat and sail it would help. I'm planning to go all the way to Hawaii. Maybe by the time I get there I'll be over him." "Hawaii?" I said, surprised. "That's a long, long way from here." "I know," she said. "That's actually why I was taking on more water. I think I have plenty but I wanted to be sure." "This guy," I asked, "was he French?" "American," she sighed. "He was from California. That's how I learned about the Cline Zinfandel. I have to say," she smiled, as she held up her glass, "it wasn't a total waste of time." And we drank a toast to California. I told her I had a guest room in the beach house, but in the end she opted to sleep on the boat. She said she would probably be getting an early start in the morning, but she thanked me for a delicious meal, and for being such a good listener. "Sorry to be such a party pooper," she apologized. "You've been great." And then I walked with her out onto the dock and helped to steady her as she stepped up onto the deck of her boat. "You know," I said, "you don't have to be in such a hurry to leave. I make a really good pot of coffee, and if you're nice to me I'll fix cinnamon rolls for breakfast." "Cinnamon rolls?" she said. "Hmmmm. Tempting. I'll have to sleep on it." And then she gave me a little kiss on the cheek and disappeared down the hatch. "See you in the morning," I called, and I headed back toward the house. But long after her lights went out I stood at the window, looking at her sailboat bobbing on the water, and feeling--for the first time in a long time--that morning might just be worth waking up for. ----------- December 28 I was up early, banging around the kitchen brewing Caffé Verona and making cinnamon rolls. I kept looking out the window to see if Monique was up and to make sure she didn't sail away before I had a chance to bring her a proper breakfast. When the cinnamon rolls came out of the oven I waited for them to cool just a bit, glazed them with that sweet, sugary glaze, and then arranged them in a breadbasket, covering them carefully with a white linen cloth (presentation is everything). And then, with a tray that held the coffee pot, cups, saucers, spoons, creamer, sugar, cinnamon rolls, and napkins, I headed out to the dock. I stepped up onto the deck of her boat and called down the hatch. "Hey!" I said. "I thought you were going to leave early." "I was," she called, sleepily, "until you started tempting me with breakfast." "Come and get it," I said. A few minutes later she did, dressed only in an oversized T-shirt. She looked so gorgeous—-her hair disheveled, her eyes half-closed—-as if she had just rolled out of bed and might be willing to roll back in again. We sat on the deck of her boat as I poured the coffee and she took the first sip of my favorite Starbucks blend. That woke her up. And then she bit into the cinnamon roll. "Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "That is so good!" "Well," I said, with a smile, "nothing but the best for you. It's Pillsbury—-right out of the can." But that didn't seem to bother her in the least. She just kept popping little bites into her mouth and looking at me appreciatively while she licked her lips and sucked the glaze off her fingers. Wow. Was she trying to be this sexy, or did it just come naturally to her? I stole a few glances at her long, suntanned legs and the way her T-shirt seemed to be riding higher and higher on her thighs. When she reached up to push her hair out of the way I could see the fullness of her breasts against the front of her shirt and the hardness of her nipples. I think she caught me looking once, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, the little smile working at the corners of her mouth made me think she was enjoying the attention. "You say you used to come to this island all the time when you were a girl?" I asked. "MmHmm," she mumbled, with a mouthful of cinnamon roll. "Is there anything you like about it, especially?" I asked. "Oh, everything!" she exclaimed, taking a sip of coffee. "I think it's the perfect size, the perfect situation. I love the old volcano, the deep harbor, the blue lagoon. And have you seen the caves?" "The what?" I asked. "The caves!" she said. "At the base of the cliffs!" Well, no, actually I hadn't seen the caves. I didn't know anything about them. I had only been on the island a few weeks. "You're going to have to show me," I said. "Payment for breakfast." "Well," she said with a smile, "I guess I could wait another day to get started, but only if you throw lunch into the bargain." "Oh, I'll be glad to," I said, earnestly. "How about peanut butter sandwiches?" "Sounds perfect," she said. "Do you want a shower or anything before we get started?" I offered. "I usually start with a swim," she said, looking around her at the clear, blue waters of the lagoon. "Do you mind?" Well no, of course I didn't mind. "Great," she said, and with that--as if it were the most natural thing in the world--she put down her coffee cup, stood up, turned around, stripped the T-shirt off over her head, and dived into the water. I just sat there, holding a half-eaten cinnamon roll. --------------- To be truthful, Monique wasn't completely naked. She was wearing a white thong, which I had glimpsed just before she dived over the side of the boat. That sweet little triangle of fabric disappearing between the smooth, suntanned cheeks of her ass . . . wow. I had to remember that she was French, born in these islands, and that she probably didn't have the same standards of modesty I had picked up working in Boston these past few years, where we mostly wore heavy winter overcoats. Still, it felt like a come-on. She popped up beside the boat and splashed me playfully. "Come on in," she called. "The water's fine." I wasn't going to disappoint her, but I did have a moment's dilemma deciding how far to strip down before joining her. I was wearing khaki shorts and a black T-shirt. I knew the shirt had to come off, but the shorts? She was wearing something at least. Under my shorts there was nothing but me. I finally left them on and dived in. She swam away from me, toward the reef, and although I was a good swimmer she stayed ahead of me until I glimpsed that perfect ass again when she disappeared above the reef in a smooth surface dive. I took a deep breath and followed her down. The water was so clear I could see her body in exquisite detail--the dark hair floating around her face, the beautiful brown-nippled breasts, that edible ass, those lovely legs. Sigh. I don't know that I have ever seen anything so desirable; I wanted her right then and there. But she was swimming down deeper and deeper in a free dive that was more than I could do. I finally gave up and headed toward the surface and a full minute later she joined me, gasping for breath. "Wow," she said. "That reef is just as beautiful as I remember!" And there she was talking about beauty when she was treading water just three feet away from me, her hair slicked back on her head, her brown eyes sparkling, her skin wet and glistening in the morning sun. I didn't see how anything could be more beautiful than that. We swam back toward the boat slowly and I told her she could rinse off at the house. "There's a shower head near the pool," I said, "or you can come on in. I'll get some lunch together." "Do you have any snorkeling gear?" she asked. "It's really the best way to explore the caves." "Sure," I said. "I keep it in the pool house. We can grab it on the way out and just walk down the beach to the cliffs if it's all right with you. It's only a mile or so." "That sounds great," she said. "You're going to love these caves." "I'm going to love everything about this day," I thought. "As long as you stay with me. As long as you are here." I could tell I was beginning to fall for this girl, and in a big way, too.