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Message-ID: <45783asstr$1071054602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Russell Hoisington" <hoisingr@hushmail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Wynter 3: Mother's Helper 03/03 {Hoisington} (Mg rom ped inc cons slow)
Date: Wed, 10 Dec 2003 06:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

                         WYNTER KING 3:
                     MOTHER'S LITTLE HELPER
                     by Russell Hoisington

---------------------------------------------------------------------


This is an erotic fantasy.  The characters and the situation are
purely imaginary, and this story is *NOT* intended to be a guide for
actual behavior.  Any similarities between this story and actual
people or actual events you should be ashamed of are purely
coincidental.  If it is illegal in your part of the world to access
and read erotic fiction, or if you are underage, or if you don't like
underage sex stories, then you should stop now.

This story is copyright 2003 by Russell Hoisington.  Please do not
remove the author information or make any changes to this story.  You
may post freely to non-commercial (free) sites, or in the "free" area
of commercial sites.  That does *not* mean that these stories are in
the public domain, nor does it mean that I give permission for you to
use them in spam advertising.  I reserve the right to determine what
is "spam advertising" by *my* definition, not yours or anyone else's.

Thank you for your consideration.

---------------------------------------------------------------------


                           Six of Eight

     Wynter knocked gently on the door frame.  "May I come in?"

     Her father's eyes jumped from the television screen to her
face.  He smiled his biggest, warmest smile, the one that always made
her heart feel like it would explode from her chest like that yucky
creature in "Alien," except it wanted to explode in joy, not pain. 
He put down the handgrip exercisers, reached for the remote control,
and turned off the television.   "My nurse is always welcome in
here."  He brought the head of the bed from forty-five degrees to
full upright and held his arms open to her.  "You don't have to ask."

     "I don't think you and Mother would have liked me walking in
without asking last night," she said with a giggle as she snuggled
her face against his neck.  She pulled back and gave him her biggest
smirk.  "Would you?"

     For a second he looked almost embarrassed.  "We thought you
were asleep."

     "Unh uh," she grunted as his hands kneaded her back through her
knit top.  "I was doing what Mother was doing, except I had imagine
you and use my fingers."  She sighed deeply and looked VERY put upon.

"It's not as good."

     She saw the reaction in his eyes as he realized he wasn't
feeling a training bra strap.  She giggled.  "Mother went for a walk.

I thought," she said, straightening and reaching for the hem of her
top, "that you might like to exercise your hands with these."  She
lifted the bottom of her blouse above her small titties and twisted
slightly to let him have a good view of the pink cones on them.

     The delighted grin on his face made her feel wonderful all the
way down to her toes and back up again.  He took the soft, pale orbs
in his hands and gently squeezed.  "I can't squeeze these as hard as
I can the exercisers," he said in mock complaint.

     "No, but these will be gentler to your hands.  Doctor King
prescribes you use them for a while."

     He raised an eyebrow.  "DOCTOR King?"

     "Uh huh.  I think I want to go to medical school."  She closed
her eyes and sighed contentedly as he massaged her small breasts. 
She giggled when he tweaked her nipples to open her eyes and gave her
a stern look.

     "So that's why you and Kevin disappear together every time he
shows up.  He's been giving you a sales pitch!  And here I thought
you were just sneaking off to have sex together."

     She giggled again, then leaned forward to give him a nose-and-
lips kiss.  She backed away for a second and then, as the horny
feeling between her legs grew unbearable, she glued his mouth to his
and invited his tongue in to play.  She moaned in anticipation as his
big hand slid down to cup her butt and squeeze it, then continued
down to the leg of her pink knit shorts.  His fingertips slid under
the shorts, and two wiggled their way under the leg opening of her
panties.  The flats of the nails of those fingers slid around the
front of her leg to the short cornsilk curls and then moved downward.
His fingers shifted position and the fingertips came to rest on the
fat little pads on either side of her split.

     She shifted her feet further apart to give him better access. 
Her split made a wet sound as his fingers pulled it open.  Then his
ring finger entered her panties and held her split apart so that his
middle finger could stroke first through the puddle of liquid at the
entrance to her vagina and then across the hard little stick of her
clitty.  She moaned and sighed around his invading tongue.

     He withdrew his tongue and pulled his head back to focus on her
face.  "I get the feeling your fingers weren't enough last night."

     "Unh uh."  She could hear in her voice the desperation she felt
in her pussy.  "It's been two weeks, and I got REALLY horny during my
period last week.  It hasn't gotten any better since.  Please, Daddy,
I know we can't make love, but can you get me off with your fingers?
Please?"

     She knew she was begging like a child, but she was so horny, so
desperate for relief, that she couldn't help it.  She had cum four
times the night before, and it had barely helped.

     His fingertip began vibrating her clitty.  Relief mixed with
need shot through her from that spot.  His fingertip dipped slightly
into her desperate cunt, gathering more pussy juice and causing a new
sensation as he stretched her open slightly.  His finger returned to
attack the ache in her clitty.  The clockspring in her pussy began
tightening.  As if it were attached to strings reaching to her face,
the tightening spring pulled her face into a scowl and then a pucker
as it kept winding tighter and tighter andtighterandtighterand....

     She tried really hard not to make any noise when she came, just
the way she had done the night before, but the feeling was TOO good,
especially when he stopped rubbing her clitty directly and slid his
finger inside her throbbing pussy at the height of her climax.  The
fingers on the fat little pads on either side of her split continued
to squeeze-stroke her.  A strangled groan escaped from her throat,
and she thought it might have been loud, but she wasn't sure.  Her
ears stopped working while the spasms shook her body.

     As she came down she gasped, "Daddy, I love you!"  She gasped
twice more before she could add, "With all my heart."

     His heart-felt smile made his face glow.  "I love you with all
my heart, too, honey."  His fingertip traced the "X" over his heart.

     She gasped as her breathing slowed, never taking her eyes off
his face, searching it and finding only love for her written all over
it.  It made her whole slender body tingle more than the orgasm did.

     "Want me to do you?" she asked with a mischievous grin.

     "We don't have time," he said, and he looked really and truly
disappointed when he said it.  But he left his finger inside her.

     "Daddy, haven't you told Mother yet?"

     He shook his head.  "I've dropped plenty of hints.  One of the
best ways to handle your mother is to give her information she needs
to work out answers for herself.  If her mind has subconsciously
prepared itself for what you're going to tell her, then it's easier
to break news to her."

     "And you think that will work this time?" she asked, squeezing
his finger with her cunny muscles.

     "Well, I certainly HOPE...."

     The slamming door rocked the house.

     Her father removed his fingers from her pussy and her panties
and sucked them clean.

     Wynter jerked down the hem of her blouse and smoothed her
clothing into place, then dropped into the overstuffed chair by the
door as footsteps stomped through the house and down the hall.  A
scared feeling made a cold knot in the pit of her stomach, and she
looked to her father for courage.

     He looked from the door to her and mouthed, more than he said
in a soft voice, "I don't think that's Ellen back for a visit."

     Five feet, five inches of red-faced fury stopped in the
doorway.  Angie's shoulder-length, light-brown hair was tied back
with a blue bandana.  A white-knuckled left fist gripped her walking
stick.  Her .38-Special wavered in her right as she gasped for air. 
Her face was wet with sweat.  She'd obviously been running.  She
glanced down at Wynter and then snarled at Richard.  "YOU SON OF A
BITCH!"

---------------------------------------------------------------------


                          Seven of Eight

     Richard gave Wynter his warmest, most reassuring smile. 
"Wynter, would you excuse us, please?  Your mother wants to talk."

     Angie's furious gaze swept down to Wynter and caused her to
cringe back into the chair.  "Wait a minute.  Wynter, did he molest
you?"

     Tears brimmed in the twin blue-green pools.  "M--m--molest me?"

     "Did HE," she indicated Richard with the gun barrel, "force
himself on you and molest you?  Fondle you?  Coerce you into fondling
HIM?"

     "Angie, put the gun away.  You're scaring her."

     "ANSWER ME!"

     Tears exploded as Wynter cringed and folded her legs up into
the chair and along her body.  She wrapped her arms around them and
tried to make herself as small as possible.  "Mommy, it wasn't
Daddy's fault, it was all mine.  He couldn't make me do anything.  He
was hurt and in the bed all the time," she cried through tears.

     Angie turned her fury back to Richard.  "You've got her taking
the blame for you," she spat.

     His voice stayed calm, rational, and gentle.  "Put the gun in
the holster, Angie.  You aren't Patsy Ramsey or Lorena Bobbitt, and
you aren't going to hurt either of us."

     Angie focused on the revolver as if she were seeing it for the
first time.  She tucked it in the holster and fastened the safety
strap while snarling at him.

     "Angie, it's not HER fault, it's ours."

     "Oh!  So you can't accept your responsibility without shifting
some of the blame onto her?"

     "Not Wynter's and mine ours.  Yours and mine ours."  He smiled
at Wynter.  "Honey, you can go now.  It's okay.  Mother and I just
need to talk.  All right?"

     She looked at him, her eyes dumping tears.  "Okay."  She looked
up at Angie as she started unfolding.  "Mommy, don't hurt him,
please? [sniff] I love you both.  I don't want you to hurt him.
[sniff]  Please?"

     Angie tore her eyes from her husband to look down at her
daughter.  Some of the fire faded.  "I won't hurt him," she said. 
Wynter's face said she wasn't convinced.

     Richard had an idea.  "Honey, would you do me a favor?"

     "Uh huh. [sniff]  What?"  She rose to her feet and turned to
face him.  She looked ready to bolt into his arms but was too
frightened to do so.

     "You know that cedar tree that you said looks like it has a big
scary thing crawling out of it?  Would you take a drawing pad out
there and draw me a picture of the thing?  Not the tree as it is, but
with the scary thing crawling out?"

     She sniffed, looking from him to her mother and back.  "Okay." 
She was being run outside and she knew it, but she went along with it
because he'd asked for a favor.  "Colored pencils or black and
white?" she asked, sniffing again and brushing tears away.

     "I think black and white might look scarier.  Don't you, dear?"
When Angie didn't respond, he stared at her and indicated with a nod
in Wynter's direction that she should say something.

     "Yes.  Yes, that would be better."

     "'Kay.  I love you, Daddy.  I love you, Mommy."

     "I love you, honey."

     "I love you, too, sweetheart."

     Angie watched Wynter retrieve a pad and pencil from her room
and then trudge down the hall with her shadow in slow pursuit.  She
turned to glare at Richard.  "What...."

     He held up a finger to silence her and pointed in the general
direction of Wynter with it.  "Sit down, please" he said in a gentle
voice.  "Wait until she's outside."

     The closing kitchen door was barely audible in the silence.  He
preempted the opening attack.  "We failed her, Angie."

     "WE?  Richard..."

     "We.  Both of us.  Here.  In this place.  With this house. 
This location."

     She shook her head.  "This is the house we wanted.  We both
wanted to live here."

     "Yes, we did.  But we made that decision before we made her. 
We never looked to see if that decision was still the right one after
she was born."

     Her left fist clenched around the walking stick.  She brought
it horizontal across her knees and grabbed it in her right fist. 
"You're trying to change the subject.  You'd hinted at moving before.
Were you planning all along to use that to distract me when I found
out?"

     "Wynter's being deprived by being out here all alone with us."

     "DEPRIVED?"  Angie shook her head in bewilderment.  "She has
trees and flowers and nature and low crime and..."

     "And no interaction with other people, especially people her
own age.  She's being raised like a miniature grownup, not like a
kid."

     "So you used her like she was an adult to get off.  What
the..."

     "Angie, do you know how much she knows about sex?"

     "Obviously a HELL of a lot more than she knew when I left. 
Just how much DID you teach her?"

     "Honey, please!  One argument at a time.  Do you know how much
she knew when you left?"

     "Well, of course I do, for piss' sake.  I'M the one who had the
mother-daughter talk with her."

     "Exactly."  He leaned back and lowered upper half of the bed
slightly from full upright.

     His complacent grin of triumph confused her.  He had obviously
scored a point, but why?  What was the point of the point?  She had
been married to him too long.  She knew not to ignore that look.

     He adjusted the pillow behind his head.  "Ever notice how she
handles a compliment?"

     "She sometimes gets a little embarrassed, but what the hell
does THAT...."

     "It's all related.  And it's not 'sometimes.'  She ALWAYS gets
embarrassed unless it's a teasing compliment.  Always.  Or did until
Ellen and Kevin explained to her how to handle...."

     "WHAT?  Ellen and Kevin?  For piss' sake, Richard!  That's our
job."

     "Yes," he said in a soft voice.  "That's OUR job.  But when we
don't do our job, she has to go elsewhere to learn.  And how do kids
normally learn things they don't learn from their parents?  They
learn them from other people, especially other kids.  But she doesn't
have other kids around to learn from most of the time."

     "Richard, you're crazy!  There's Kenny Taylor, Suzie
Middleton..."

     "Suzie!  Glad you brought her up."

     Angie frowned at his grin, beginning to realize that she was
being steered into setups.

     "Kids learn a lot about sex from other kids.  They listen to
conflicting information, seek a general pattern, and assume that what
most of the people say is probably what's right.  Only she doesn't
have any kids but Suzie to listen to, and Suzie doesn't always have
answers.  The ones she does have are frequently wrong, or at least
incomplete.  Not that any more would guarantee she'd get the right
information.

     "She didn't know what being horny was, or why she felt that
need.  She didn't know that she could masturbate to relieve the
feeling, and she didn't know HOW to masturbate once she learned it
would help.

     "Do you know what else she asked me?  'Why would some boy in
college want to look at my pussy?'  She honestly didn't know."

     Angie's knuckles turned whiter as she squeezed her walking
staff.  Richard supposed it was a proxy for his neck.  "Well, number
two, I suppose you showed her why, and number one, why would she ask
THAT question in the first place?"

     "I EXPLAINED the answer the second time she asked it, though I
was hoping she'd save it to ask you.  And you're missing the
significance of her question.  She doesn't KNOW.  She doesn't
UNDERSTAND what a sexual relationship is all about."

     Angie rolled her head back and stared at the ceiling.  "Oh! 
Well!"  She glared at him and added, "Isn't she LUCKY that you are
able to SHOW her!  I thought we were PROTECTING her."

     "Exactly."

     She shook her head, wondering what part he was agreeing with,
and suddenly realized he'd awarded himself another point.  She was
still being steered.  "What?"

     Richard shook his head.  "We thought we were protecting her,
but in reality we were preparing her to be a victim of the first
slick-talking sonofabitch that realizes he has a naive winner on his
hands."

     "That would be you," she said with a sneer.

     "Honey, you keep trying to start a new argument before we've
finished with the old one," he said with a smile that did nothing to
reduce her anger.  "How do kids normally find out what the other half
of humanity looks like?"

     "Well, books and ...."

     "No," he interrupted.  "How do Dick and Jane REALLY find out
what the other half looks like?"

     She stared at him for a second, and then slumped a little when
she realized what his response would be.  "They play 'doctor,' and
'show and tell,'" she said in a normal voice.

     "Exactly!"  He ignored her wince.  "They go to Alice DeClerk
and Eddie Thomas."

     <I should have never told him about Eddie,> she realized, years
too late.

     "But Wynter doesn't have that opportunity to do so because we
wanted to live here in isolation.  You can't raise a child in
isolation or you'll raise a social misfit who doesn't know how to act
around her peers and who doesn't know how, or when, to protect
herself."

     "But I've TOLD her how to protect herself from everyone.  From
everyone except you because I never thought...."

     "Angie."  It seemed strange to hear that patient tone directed
from himself to her for a change.  "That's the problem.  You TOLD
her.  She's far too trusting."

     "Are we back to the new argument now?"

     He ignored that.  "If you don't say, 'I'm a bad guy,' she'll
take anything you tell her at face value.  She needs to have Little
Billy and Little Johnny take advantage with something minor, or Bill
and John will take advantage of her big time.  About the only person
she doesn't trust is Uncle Bob after all the promises he's broken
over the years."

     "So:  you're telling me you took advantage of her with
something minor--I'd say you took major advantage OF a minor--to
protect her later on?"

     "Nooo...."

     She released her breath in an explosive sigh.  He'd stretched
the word out and ended it on a higher note, his way of saying she
wasn't seeing the obvious.  "Then for piss' sake, what ARE you
saying?"

     He sighed.  "First that she's been pushed too far too fast. 
She wants to be older than she is.  That's not unusual for kids, but
she takes it to an extreme and feels that anything she does that
isn't adult in its execution is cause for alarm.  Not concern: 
alarm.  You've seen those panic attacks the same as I have.  And
you've seen the way her personality shifts wildly about.  You're back
to being 'Mommy' after a year of being 'Mother.'  Also, she
understands that sex is an adult way to express love and feelings,
but she doesn't understand that no sex doesn't mean non-adult. 
Second, I'm saying that she's not had a proper opportunity to satisfy
her curiosity.  She was deeply embarrassed to assist me with the
urinal, but once she discovered why the catheter had been
removed...."

     "Did Ellen tell her that?"

     "No.  She asked and I didn't lie to her.  I WON'T lie to her. 
She discovered that semen buildup was painful and, well, you know
Wynter when she thinks anyone or anything is in pain."

     "And of course you didn't try hard enough to talk her out of
relieving your condition."

     "No, I didn't."

     Angie blinked.  She wasn't expecting that.

     "Eventually her curiosity got the better of her, and I didn't
try hard enough then, either."

     "For piss' sake, Richard!  Why didn't you have Ellen jack you
off, then?  Couldn't you wait until she returned?"

     "I was prepared to wait longer than that, actually.  I couldn't
let her, though I might have given in within a few days."

     "Oh!  Well, yeah!  You couldn't let ELLEN but...."

     "Angie, do you know why she left Pittsburgh?"

     "No, but...."

     "I do.  I'm sorry that can't tell you, but, trust me, I
couldn't let her handjob me because I didn't want to risk losing
you."

     "And just what makes you think you aren't risking losing me
because you substituted Wynter for Ellen?"

     "Faith in you.  In your common sense."

     That also caught her off guard.  Her mouth worked silently,
trying to spit out the words that weren't there.

     "I know that you'll think it over and see how what I've said
all ties together.  You'll see what I've been trying to tell you, and
eventually you'll understand.  Why don't you go for a walk again, but
this time let your subconscious work on what I've said for a while. 
It does a much better job of analyzing and sorting out than your
conscious mind does.  We can talk again when you return."

     She slowly rose and stared down at him.  She knew he was right
about the walk.  He was quoting what she'd said to him on more than
one occasion.  "Richard, just how far did you two go?"

     "Don't waste time trying to pry information out of Wynter by
telling her I told you everything.  She's expecting it."

     A hint of a wry smile teased its way onto a corner of her
mouth.  "You WOULD tell her that," she said as she turned and walked
out of the room.

     Richard lay back in his pillows and let out a long breath as he
lowered the head of the bed.  He'd have done that if he'd thought of
it in time.

                              -----

     "Wynter, I'm going for another walk," Angie said to the blonde
ponytail seated on the pine stump.

     Wynter turned her head, lowered the drawing tablet, and stood. 
Even from halfway across the large back yard Angie could see the tear
streaks and red eyes.  Wynter tucked the pencil behind her ear and
wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.  "Is--is everything...." 
She dropped the pad on the stump and rushed toward her mother, arms
flung wide to encircle her.  She buried her face in her mother's
waist and cried in deep, wracking sobs.  Dragon sat beside her and
looked up at the two in his curious pose, whimpering softly.

     "Mommy, I'm [sniff]--I'm so sorry.  Don't--don't hate me.
[sniff]  Please?  It's not [sniff] Daddy's fault, it's--it's all
mine.  Please [sniff] don't hate him, either.  Please? [sniff]  Okay?
Please?"

     Angie jammed the point of her walking stick into the soft earth
to hold it in place.  Her left hand pressed her daughter's shoulders
in a hug while her right smoothed the blonde hair above the ponytail.
Her body twisted in a gentle rocking motion.  "Sweetheart, I don't
hate anyone.  I'm just a little upset and angry.  WHY did.... No,
never mind.  I just need to go take a walk and think a bit.  We'll
talk then.  Okay?  How's your drawing?"

     "It's [sniff] okay, I guess."

     Angie disentangled herself from Wynter's arms and dropped to a
squat.  She removed her bandanna and used it to wipe the tears and
mucus from her daughter's pitiful face.  "I'll just hike up to the
aspen grove and back.  Can you have your drawing finished in about
twenty minutes, or do you need longer?"

     Drawing the scary thing was a brilliant idea, and she wished
she'd thought of it.  It gave Wynter a way to vent her fears safely.

     "I can be done [sniff] in about fifteen minutes."

     "Good.  You can show it to your father and me at the same time.

How's that?"

     "'Kay," she said in a small voice  She was struggling to stop
crying, but tears escaped from each eye.  Angie caught them with the
bandanna.

     "Good."  She kissed Wynter's forehead.  "I'll see you in a
little bit."  She kissed Wynter's forehead again and rose.

     "I love you."  Wynter's pleading voice sounded as if she were
trying to convince her.

     "I know you do, and I love you, too, sweetheart.  I can't wait
to see your drawing."

     "'Kay."  Wynter waved as her mother walked to the back gate and
then, head down, trudged back to the stump, followed by her shadow.

     Under the arbor Angie paused and turned, watching as Wynter
moved the tablet from the stump and took her seat.  She bent forward
at the waist until she was almost lying on her legs, wrapped one arm
around her knees, and engaged Dragon in a long, apparently one-sided
conversation punctuated with pointing and waving of her free arm.  As
she watched a light slowly grew in the darkness of her thoughts.

---------------------------------------------------------------------


                          Eight of Eight

     The weather had turned uncharacteristically hot on moving day,
three days ago.  The water pump in the new house's swamp cooler chose
that time to die, and McKeown's had to order a replacement from
Houston.  Fans stirred the air in the house, but were of marginal
help.  Angie wore a bandanna to keep the sweat out of her eyes as she
unpacked still more moving boxes.

     Over her shoulder she watched Wynter drop onto the edge of the
living room sofa and slump, her legs straight out and sneakered feet
pigeon-toed inward.  Wynter sat with her arms dangling down between
her legs as if she hadn't the strength to lift them to the seat
cushion.  The breeze from the fans stirred her bangs and the loose
strands of hair that had escaped from her ponytail.  "I didn't know
moving would be so much work," her daughter said with a heavy sigh. 
Dragon collapsed at her feet.  Standing guard in a fur coat while his
human unpacked boxes and put things away had exhausted him, too.

     Angie looked in the open box atop the stack beside her.  Two
more plates remained to be placed in the dining room china cabinet. 
She almost reached for them, but instead she sat beside Wynter and
heaved a big sigh of her own.  "I'd forgotten how bad it was.  Of
course, it's been a long time since I moved into that house, and we
didn't have as much to move then.  We added a lot of stuff after we'd
settled in."  She wrapped an arm around her daughter's shoulders and
squeezed.  "Good thing I have a helper this time."

     "I think your helper is worn out," Wynter replied collapsing
sideways against her.  "I'm going to sleep the rest of summer."

     "Would you rather have a stranger put everything away in your
new room?  You'd never find half of it again."  She felt Wynter's
body tense momentarily.  Wynter would never allow anyone else to
touch her things.

     "When's Daddy getting back with lunch?  I'm starved."  Her
voice had a slight whine.

     Sunlight flashing off a moving windshield swept through the
window and around the room as Richard's new pickup pulled into the
driveway.

     Angie kissed the top of Wynter's head.  "How's that for
timing?"

     "Any earlier and I'd have been too tired to eat."

     Angie pulled away slightly to look at Wynter's face.  "Is there
any way to please you?"

     Wynter giggled.

     "Besides, that."

     "Unh uh.  Daddy says I'm too much like you."

     Angie rubbed one of Wynter's slender upper arms with her hand
and felt a look of sympathy creep onto her face.  "God help you,
sweetheart."

     Richard almost bounced through the door, whistling off key. 
"Kentucky Fried Colonels for everybody!" he announced, holding up two
large red-and-white plastic bags.  He looked back and forth between
his two favorite women.  "What IS this, a loafer's convention?"

     "SOME of us had to work," Wynter sighed.

     "Well, so did I!  The new pump for the swamp cooler came in,
and I also picked up lunch.  I even carried it into the house all by
myself, without any help from ANYONE else!"

     "So where's the pump?"

     "You ask about the pump when I bring food?"  Richard sighed and
indicated with a jerk of his head.  "That's still in the truck.  I
was afraid the weight of it plus the weight of all this food might
cause me to strain something."  He saw the looks on their faces and
added, "Kevin DID tell me not to overdo it!"

     He looked from one to the other in anticipation as they rolled
their eyes.  "Well?  Doesn't anybody want a kiss?"

     "I do," Angie said, "but Wynter's too tired."

     "Am not," she retorted, sitting upright.

     "I spoke first, slowpoke.  You can wait your turn."  She rose
and threw her arms around Richard.  Still holding the bags, he
crossed his arms behind her and bent her backward.

     Wynter snorted.  After a few seconds she tapped her foot,
crossed her arms, thrummed her fingers on her elbows, and made
impatient noises while her parents stretched out the kiss.  She
looked at her wrist as if checking a watch and thrummed some more. 
She coughed.  Twice.  "Well, Dragon, how about those Broncos?"  When
he looked up and thumped his tail she said, "That's what I thought,
too," and looked at her "watch" again.  "Read any good books lately?"

     She saw a tremble in both her father and her mother.  They were
fighting to hold back laughter.  "I'm all rested up now," she
announced.  "And if I don't get a kiss real quick, I'm going to go
eat up all the chicken and the smarty pantses will just go hungry."

     Richard's head jerked back, leaving Angie's tongue exposed for
an instant.  As she straightened, he transferred both bags to one
hand, spread the other over his heart, and staggered backward.  "Oh,
NO!" he cried.  "NOT the CHICKEN!"

     Angie threw back her head, eyelids squeezed shut in anguish,
and pressed the back of one hand to her forehead.  "Oh, mine CRUEL
and HEARTLESS daughter!  Take thy beak from out mine heart, and put
instead a chicken leg in mine stomach!"

     Wynter rolled her eyes upward.  "I can go down to Jimmy
McCauley's house.  He'll kiss me."

     THAT got their attention.  They looked at each other and then
back to her.  "But I'd rather have you," she said to her father. 
Just before their lips met she added, "And it better be at least as
good as what Mother got."

     Angie took the food bags from Richard.  "Then I guess I have
time to go set the table."

     "Um hmm," Wynter grunted before backing away to stage-whisper
in conspiratorial tones, "I'm not wearing a bra."

     Angie doled out paper plates on the breakfast table, the only
flat surface in the kitchen that didn't have boxes stacked on it. 
Mother's little helper was the one who had insisted that she would be
sorry if she didn't keep one surface, preferably that one, clear all
the time.  She reasoned that Wynter spoke from recent experience in
her room.

     <Jimmy McCauley?>  She didn't know the boy, but he'd been in
front of the house when they first inspected the house with the
broker.  He'd seemed quite smitten with Wynter at first sight.  When
they began moving in he'd been a constant presence, either
volunteering to help or frequently riding past on his bike and
staring at the house as if looking for someone.  He still checked
once or twice a day to see if he was needed.  His father, Keith, was
a supervisor for the county highway crew and someone she and Richard
knew in passing.

     Ellen Carter said that the twelve-year-old was his father's
son, an upright, courteous, first-class individual and that Wynter
could do far worse for a friend.  Ellen also said that Suzie
Middleton had her eye on Jimmy.  The near future could become
interesting.

     <Napkins.>  She shook her head.  Richard had remembered to
bring the plastic fork/spoon combinations that Wynter called "foons,"
but he'd forgotten the napkins.  She reached for the paper towels.

     Richard's relationship with Wynter still disturbed her a
little, somewhere deep inside, but at least her daughter's first
intercourse had been with someone who cared about her.  Eddie Thomas
had not only been the first to play looky-loo with Angie, back when
she was nine or so, he'd also been the first for touchy-feely and was
the first to screw her, shortly after she turned fifteen.  And screw
her, he did.

     Her first experience wasn't 'making love.' It was getting
royally screwed, and it was practically rape.  He was putting on the
rubber while he knelt between her wide-spread thighs in his parents'
den.  He suddenly realized he was about to cum prematurely.  He
dropped the rubber, jammed his boner into her virgin hole, and came
two pumps later, before she'd recovered from the surprise and could
tell him to get the hell out of there.  He pulled out, wiped his cock
on her bush, held both her ankles aloft in one hand while he slapped
her bare ass with the other, and said, "Not bad for a beginner."
Obviously it was something he'd learned from talking to other boys
because he'd already admitted he was still a virgin, too.  She'd
worried about pregnancy for almost  three weeks.  It was the last
time she let him touch her.  She was in college and on the pill
before she let anyone else touch her.  Fortunately her daughter
didn't have horrible memories like that of her first experience.

     Angie looked out the kitchen window and sighed, banishing the
memories.  They had a huge back yard, with large trees that provided
shade as well as the sense of closeness to nature she needed.  They
were on the edge of town, and walking trails and woods and meadows
were close by.  But those weren't on her property.  Well, they were
on public property, so they were partially hers.  She'd been afraid
that Richard would want to move to Denver or Grand Junction or
Casper, some place larger and more boisterous.  She hadn't considered
moving down the mountain to town.  It wasn't too far from their
former mountain home.  An older couple had bought their dream
property and said that they were welcome to return to hike through
the woods and meadows and to dangle feet in the creek any time they
wished.

     Wynter would be going to a real school for the first time,
surrounded by people her own age.  She wondered if Wynter would
stabilize at their maturity level or bring some of them up to hers. 
She knew Wynter and thus knew which way to place THAT bet.

     A sudden, sharp sound from the living room heralded Wynter's
orgasm.  Angie supposed it was better that she got it from Richard
than from someone like Eddie.  In fact, she knew in her heart that it
was better.  But Jimmy McCauley better keep his grubby little hands
off--and other parts out of--her daughter if he knew what was good
for him!

     The good news was that Wynter knew how to handle him.  She
hoped.  They had discussed sexuality and sexual relationships with a
frankness that she'd never expected to experience with her own child.
She'd certainly never experienced that candor with her mother.  She
had done what she hoped was an adequate job of explaining men to
Wynter.  She loved Richard, but unlike herself, he was blind to the
faults, foibles, and shortcomings of his own sex.

     Wynter had laughed oddly when she mentioned that fact, but her
daughter had explained that she had somehow dredged up a funny
thought from the past.  But Wynter had admitted afterward that she
now understood men well enough to help her take care of Richard's
needs, especially if she had to leave town again.  "Most mothers
aren't lucky enough to have a helper for that," Wynter had said. 
"Not a helper who wouldn't run off with your husband."  That had been
the thirty-year-old Wynter making a reappearance after an absence of
over a week.

     She smiled warmly at her family as the other three, husband,
daughter, and daughter's omnipresent shadow, trooped into the
kitchen, one looking exceptionally pleased with himself, one looking
dreamily satiated, and one looking as if he were performing the most
important job in the world.

     <No, Dragon, you don't have the most important job.  I do.>

                              -----

     While Richard alternated between deep kissing Wynter's mouth
and sucking her sweet little breasts, he had snaked his fingers up
the leg of her shorts.  He was surprised to discover that Wynter
wasn't wearing panties, either.  His fingertips felt soft cornsilk
curls and moisture and heat.  His desire ignited and he felt the
Beast begin to stir, despite the workout both of his women had given
it the night before.  His tongue attacked hers with renewed vigor.

     She moaned into his mouth when his index and ring fingers
parted her labia, allowing his middle finger to drag some of her
"natural lubrication" to the hard little pebble of her clit.  He
began gently massaging the tiny button with his thumb while his
middle finger crept up inside her body.  Moments later she jerked her
hips in the way that he'd learned meant she was rapidly building to a
climax.

     Half a minute later her body stiffened and a sharp moan escaped
through the tension in her throat.  Her body convulsed.  His thumb
stopped rubbing her sensitive little clit, and his finger stilled
within her hot, pulsing love tunnel.  Three more jerks, then a pause,

a smaller convulsion, another pause, and a final spasm.  Another moan
devolved into a sigh, and she relaxed against him, somewhere finding
the strength to rub her hand down the back of his head.  His head
dropped to her breast and he gently nipped one the two sweetest
little berries in the country.

     She giggled, and after a brief pause said, "I love you Daddy,
with all my heart."

     He raised his head to look into the beautiful blue-green pools
sparking with love and satiation beneath her blonde bangs.  His free
arm squeezed her in a tight hug.  "I love you, too, honey."  He
smiled at her and added,  "And I always will."

     <Why the hell did I feel the need to add that?> he wondered. 
He'd never felt the need to add it before.  He pondered the question
as he released her from the hug and used his index finger to trace an
"X" over his heart.  He idly wondered if it had anything to do with
the Jimmy McCauley remark.

     It was The Moment the Lights Came On.  All of the talk about
first nursing school and then medical school, all of the talk about
her being a wife with a husband and a mother with children of her
own.  All of that, and he'd never seriously understood that the day
would come when he would have to face life without Wynter as a
constant presence in his life.  The day would come when "home" would
be just Angie and himself in the house.

     "Daddy?"

     He returned to the present and looked into the worried face
brimming with love and concern.

     "Did you go away again?"

     A huge smile of love spread across his face, and he felt
sadness horning in around the edges.  "Just for a minute.  I'm back
now."

     "Did you go someplace nice?"

     He dipped his head to give her soft coral lips a gentle
father's kiss.  "Not as nice as the place I came back to."

     She giggled happily, but stopped when he reluctantly removed
his finger from her sweet young body.  He held the finger back as he
pulled her top down.  "The chicken's getting cold."

     She gave him the lascivious grin of a thirty-year-old woman. 
"You know how to warm chicks up."

     "Just the kind of chicks that don't have feathers," he said,
popping his middle finger in his mouth to suck it clean of her
juices.  "MMMM!  Finger lickin' good."

     "Smarty pants."

     They laughed, and he wrapped his arms below hers, lifting her
and kissing her in mid-air.  She finished with a nose-and-lips kiss
that suddenly seemed more precious than ever to him.  He lowered her
to her feet and took her hand.  Dragon fell into place on her other
side, and they trooped into the kitchen to see his other favorite
chick.

                              -----

     Wynter rolled her eyes upward.  "I can go down to Jimmy
McCauley's house.  He'll kiss me."

     <Where did THAT come from?>  She had no idea.  However, it
worked: they were focused on her.  She made a mental note to remember
that trick.

     "But I'd rather have you," she said to her father.  Just before
their lips met she added, "And it better be at least as good as what
Mother got."  The love that sparkled in his eyes made her heart feel
too big for her chest again.

     Her mother took the food, freeing her father's hands for more
interesting activities.  "Then I guess I have time to go set the
table."

     "Um hmm," Wynter sighed dreamily as she closed her eyes and
parted her lips.  Then her eyes flew open. <I almost forgot!>  She
pulled back to whisper loud enough for her mother to hear, "I'm not
wearing a bra."  She almost giggled at the look her mother gave her,
but then her father's lips touched hers and the world narrowed to the
contact of their lips and the feel of his hand sliding up under her
blouse to tease her nipple and cup her breast--her TITTY--and she
closed her eyes again.

     Strange that she should have to remind herself of the grownup
word.  It was the first time since her father had been allowed out of
his recovery bed that she didn't remember.  She'd been having lots of
trouble remembering things since they'd moved to town, sort of like
she was distracted, but there was nothing to distract her except the
endless unpacking and storing of things.

     Her father's fingers slid inside the leg opening of her shorts.

She felt his surprised reaction when his fingertips immediately found
soft, cornsilk curls instead of panties.  His kisses grew stronger.

     "Mmmm," she moaned as his finger probed the firm,
hirsute--she'd just learned that grownup-sounding word and liked
it--outer lips of her pussy while his tongue did the same with the
coral lips of her mouth.  She felt almost like she could see his
tongue chasing hers back and forth between their mouths, as if it
were a movie being projected on the insides of her eyelids.  And then
her view shifted and she could see his blue eyes and light dusting of
freckles staring at her from beneath his mop of red hair....

     <Huh?>  Her father had green eyes, brown hair, and no freckles.

Why would she suddenly think that?

      <Jimmy McCauley!>  Jimmy had blue eyes, red hair and freckles.

Her father's fingers must have done something special while she was
distracted because the aching horniness in her split--her
PUSSY--suddenly grew stronger.  The clockspring began tightening as
his finger slid into her hot, slick, wet pussy while his thumb did
WONDERFUL things to her clitty.  As the tension built toward her
release point her attention focused on what was happening inside her
knit shorts.  Now the movie on the inside of her eyelids showed his
fingers playing with her pussy.

     She wondered if Jimmy McCauley's fingers would feel the same
way.

     The clockspring exploded with the best orgasm she'd had in a
week.  She felt her pussy squeeze his finger as her body shook again
and again and again and again at the end, like those earthquake
aftershocks her father had told her about.  Finally the tension left
her body and she was allowed to relax.

     She sighed contentedly and rubbed her hand down the back of his
head, smoothing his hair.  She felt just a little bit guilty about
thinking of someone else when she came.  She opened her mouth to
speak but erupted with a giggle when he nibbled her nipple.  She
tried again.  "I love you, Daddy, with all my heart."  This time it
meant two things.  It was also an apology, even though he didn't know
that it was or why.

     She didn't feel much less guilty when he replied that he also
loved her with all his heart.  But then he added, "And I always
will."  For just a moment that made her feel REALLY guilty.  Then,
all of a sudden, the guilt went away and she felt wonderful!  She
knew in her heart that she would always have her father's love, even
if, as he'd said would happen, she found a boyfriend and later a
husband, and she and her father stopped having sexual activities. 
Once again her heart felt too big for her chest.  She started to say
something about that.

     His eyes were unfocussed, as if the eyes inside his head were
too busy looking at something else.  Maybe he was horny, too, and was
thinking of the times she'd repaid his love and attention.  Well, she
could repay him this time, too!

     "Daddy?" she asked, feeling her face pull into a worried frown
all by itself.

     His bright green eyes focused and looked deep into her, making
her shiver with warm feelings of love.  She wondered how a warm
feeling on a hot day could make her shiver, but she filed that
question away for later.  "Did you go away again?"

     She marveled at how he never seemed to smile at her the same
way twice, yet every time that smile made her feel loved so very,
very much.

     "Just for a minute.  I'm back now."

     "Did you go someplace nice?"  She thought maybe his mind had
gone looking for spring flowers again.  She hoped he'd found them. 
If not, she'd draw him some more, and this time she would take as
long as necessary to do a proper job.  She was still amazed that the
very first thing he carried into this house was her flower drawing. 
He put it on the wall of his home office, right above where his desk
would go.

     He gave her a gentle kiss that made her tingle all the way down
to her toes and back.  "Not as nice as the place I came back to."

     She couldn't have held back her giggle for a million dollars. 
It stopped when he removed his finger.  She felt just a little bit
disappointed when he pulled her top back down over her tits and felt
a frown creep over her face.

     "The chicken's getting cold," he reminded her.

     She sure was.  "You know how to warm chicks up," she reminded
him.

     They had just seated themselves at the table when the doorbell
rang.  "I'll get it," Wynter said.  She had a good idea who it was.

     She opened the door and had to look up just a little bit to see
blue eyes in an eager, freckled face.  Dragon, standing beside his
human, started wagging his tail.  Dragon seemed to like the boy,
possibly because Jimmy had twice brought him a big dog biscuit.

     "I was just riding past and, um, wondered if you might, um--you
now, need any, um, help or something," Jimmy said, shifting his
weight nervously from one foot to the other.

     <Anxiety disorder,> she diagnosed. <Again.>  "No, thanks. 
We're just about to have lunch."

     "Oh," he said as usual, with his usual disappointed look and
his usual, "Well, if you, um, need anything just let me know.  Bye."

     "Okay.  I will."  She watched the slumped form turn back to his
bike and surprised herself by saying, "Wait a minute."

     He turned to her with an eager look she'd sometimes seen in
Dragon's face, or in her father's face when they were about to
snuggle together.

     "If you can come back in about an hour, I could sorta use some
help, um, unpacking stuff and--and putting it on the, um, top shelves
of my bookcases and closet.  Okay?"

     Wynter had been to Las Vegas once, when her father went to a
geologists' convention.  None of the buildings there lit up the way
Jimmy's face did.  "OKAY!"

     They said temporary goodbyes, and he raced away on his bike. 
Wynter waved and then dropped her hand to scratch behind one of
Dragon's ears.  "You know, Dragon, he's kinda cute."

-----------------------------------------------------------------
                             WYNTER
                             THE END

--
Russell Hoisington
Copyright 2003

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