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Subject: {ASSM} Taxi Murders Hyperfiction Novel -- LAURIE, TANYA AND WHITNEY:
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Date: Tue,  1 Feb 2005 14:10:01 -0500
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LAURIE, TANYA AND WHITNEY:
THE SEDUCTION OF EDWARD 


Taxi Murders Web Site: http://taximurders.com
Poetry Site: http://seanfarragher.com
Long Poem: Work in Progress: http://byzantium2001.com
(9-11-2001 and Terrorism of the Child Abuse)



PART I 

Old man Edward laughed. Almost 40, his large blue eyes were ardent and
flashed like night eyes in daylight. Not "over the hill," he told his
friends, but I do have three daughters that keep me going too fast, he
quipped. No one laughed. It was not that funny.

Edward, had a large mine to match his strength and height. Tall about six
foot three, heavy set, he believed in the power of the smile and often just
slightly opened his mouth as if to take the smile inside with the particular
skin of the woman he desired. Yes, a large man with huge thick strong
stonemason hands and arms, he was graceful when watched his daughters
practice gymnastics. A sly man with an appetite for soft skin, he watched
his daughters wanting them to know how much they like his way with them.
Yes, they did, and adjusting his belt, he felt his cock stir. In the breeze
so to speak he came alive in that thought remembering how the oldest
daughter came to him last night, riding his knee in play, he thought, and
then looking at her excited, legs open like a woman, she reached up and bit
his face, and told him to fuck her.

Once Edward cut wood, stone and the light: a sculptor, he loved shaping
space. Said it was almost sexual like shaping the skin of a woman finding
the rise and fall of her ass. 

Cutting into wood, rolling clay and fingering the soft layers of paper
soaked in glue. He liked to drip the paste over the hands of his daughters.
Once the youngest let him mold her leg and thigh wit h wet paper, plaster
and wax. She suggested it after reading one of the many art books that her
father had strewn around his studio He even went so far as to mold a picture
book of the spaces between limbs and torso. She told him it tickled when he
dripped the plaster and cotton fiber on her soft slightly split V. Move the
lips a part, he told her so they show up. Whitney did what her father asked
without exception. After all, Father as they all called him, always gave
them back more than they asked.

While they walked the platforms, somersaulted, and danced in the free
exercises, Edward never took his eyes off them. A widower since his wife
died in childbirth. Often he looked at his youngest daughter that looked
like a starling. She always seemed intentionally involved with Edward's
body. She would wander into the bathroom at the oddest moments when she knew
her father was taking a shower, or sitting on the throne. He never made her
leave. He told her your body and mine are perfect. Nothing to be ashamed
about and he meant it.

Edward was tall. He stood about six foot three and weighed almost 275 lbs.
He was not fat he told his daughters as they teased him sometimes about his
big hard arms and big pecks that were larger than their breasts. Edward
didn't care. He loved his size and the grace he felt when he looked at his
daughters contemplating how easily they moved in exercise.  When they swam,
he could not help himself, he got hard. He knew watching them aroused him.
What can I do he asked himself. 

My wife dead nine years, after Whitney was born, I hunger for connection. At
first, the girls were not enough, but these last few years they have given
him all he needed. Edward did wonder what would happen when he was older and
forgotten. Now, when I bring new women home, the girls chase them away.
Women talk to each other Edward realized. They communicate about that inner
scheme. Puberty does it. That subtle plot hatched out of desire brings us
all to that boundary, and once crossed, why go back. I need it, Edward
thought, and he loved his girls and protected their privacy, although lately
folks had been talking. Intimacy on this order is hard to hide from folks
who have to some degree been there and done that. The lure of incest thrives
in the sterile walls of American families. You can say it is wrong, but how
can you ignore it when every book, every story written can be traced to that
tension, that oft repeated ache that never leaves cunt or cock before death.
They also had an attitude making it impossible to talk, and once when one
suggested they spend the night, the oldest took me aside and said how wrong
that would be to bring a stranger to Mama's bed. "If you are lonely Father,
I can help, really papa."

Laurie and the girls loved their father's cock. Whitney called it robust.
There were no secrets and no lies in the household. Some call it depraved.
Others might think it very functional. Everyone seemed to be loved and no
needs were ignored.

When Edward watched sports events, especially woman's gymnastics, he
appreciated how the body moved, how the parts connected, and how when women
and girls sat down, he imagined how their cleft folded and unfolded.

Edward was obsessed with sex. He loved it all. He couldn't get enough of the
touch, tangle, and slip of fingers inside and his cock rubbing against the
outside of a woman's sexual lips, partially penetrating, finding the ache in
his own cock and in doing so realizing how he needed the refinements of
sophisticated sexual connections. Yes, Edward loved all human beings, and
was not moved to mock anyone for any reason. He believed, as he knew about
himself, that our sexual connections more than personal were based on the
accidents that can be realized when strangers meet.

Dancing on the parallel bars, the young girl balanced. About 12, she was
tall for a gymnast, had the suggestion of breasts, and a smile, when Edward
looked at her, that was very close. 

Edward's daughter, Laurie, danced atop the bars, looking down at her father,
allowing her legs to split far apart, so she would not fall, she said later.
Split between the beams Edward thinking she was about to fall, Edward ran to
her and when he got there, she let it go falling into his arms, and
giggling.

"You mynx," Edward said, carrying her on his shoulders to the floor away
from the crowds watching the exercise routines. Holding her father's neck,
for an instant, she touched the inside of his ear, letting her smallest
finger enter there.

"Why were you laughing, you bad daddy," Laurie said.

"I like the way you move your ass. It reminds me of a herd of wild animals
fucking on the African plain."

"Daddy, stop being silly. You laugh because you love us and like the way we
take care of you."

"Yes, I do, but there is . . . "

"More. What could be more, Daddy, oh you mean that when we come to tuck you
in on the weekends when you let us all stay up."

"Yes," Edward said, as he felt uncomfortable talking openly about the
sensations that gathered in his hands when women he met at bars and at work
was disappointed when he did not really want to fuck them. He kept telling
them that he wanted more. "Ten years is a long time to be alone without a
woman," he told his oldest daughter. 

Whitney massaged his back, telling him in whispers that he had three women.

Edward devoted his life to his three girls, and some of their friends. He
adopted many of them inviting them to his house where he could watch over
them.

"I also laugh, Miss, because it all seems false, not just dancing, but the
mind showing off that psychological trap (tension between love and fear). I
love that, but the gathering of the troops, the group movements of the
gymnasts in their fresh clean skin and pale thighs and bare chests and sex,
well that is spectacular, you know. They are created it seems to excite
adult males and females who imagine being you on the swinging bars."

"Why would they want that Daddy"?

"They are unhappy with the lies, they tell."

Sitting down, near the ice cream parlor, Laurie was sad when Daddy did not
offer to buy her any ice cream. She also knew that her father would not buy
her ice creams, cake, or candy. He did not want her to become fat, he would
tell her, like your mother or your half sister.

Edward carefully kept his daughter away from the dangerous foods.

"Why do care so much what we eat, Daddy."

"Do not be a wise ass, lovely, Edward said.

"Why not? I love it all."

It doesn't suit you, and besides there is more to life that making fun of
people who cannot really defend themselves against such a beautiful morsel
as you are here holding my hand anticipating everything we could do.

Laughing Laurie placed her father's hand in her lap on the way home from the
High School gym where they practiced. Innocently placed there, Laurie walked
over to Edward after getting out of the car and she kissed him on the neck,
biting his ear. No one saw her. She was always careful, and when she kissed
him a third time, she whispered that she wanted to take a nap. "Would you
like," she giggled.

"Sure," Daddy said. "What does that have to do with me? You are old enough."

"Daddy, you are silly, and evil. You know how I like you to sleep with me
sometimes, and today is perfect. The kids are at grandmas and we are alone.
Don't you want me to kiss you again like last time." 

"I was thinking about that Laurie. I don't think that would be . "

"Good," Laurie answered, laughing twirling her hair around her face, then
looking back at Daddy wondering if she could conjure up what his hands felt
on her breasts that first time two years ago when she was ten. 

In this mode, she appeared the child seducer. She knew her real father, no
not my stepfather, Grace, she would say to her best friend. He came into me,
or into Mommy. Sorry Daddy I did not want to embarrass you.



END PART I.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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