Perverts 'R' Us

A Little Rain

By Loki925 ( M/g, inc, con )

This story is a work of pure fiction and does not resemble anyone or anything in reality, whatever that may be.

There is an old saying, "Into each life a little rain must fall." I always thought that meant you would have good days and bad, but now I know it has nothing to do with good days and bad.

Once upon a time there was this guy, and that guy was me. I went to war. I came back in one piece. I went to college. It was there that I met the woman of my dreams. Her name was Mary Christopher. She claimed to be 5' tall, but she was barely 4' 10", "and one half", as she would always say. She had small breasts, barely enough to poke out of a tight shirt, but she had the sexiest, tightest little butt. Yep you guessed it; I love a nice, tight little butt.

Anyway we hit it off right away. We fucked like bunnies all through college. When we finished college, we lived together. Until one month she goofed up taking her birth control pills and guess what, she got pregnant. Then the shit really hit the fan. She told me she wanted an abortion. We fought, we argued, finally I gave up.

We did not have the $600 it would cost for the procedure. I could not ask my parents. They would want to know what it was for, and there was no way I could tell two devout Catholics it was for an abortion. So we asked her parents.

When her dad signed the check Mary asked me, "Do you love me?"

I said, "You know I do."

She said, "Then say it."

I said, "I love you, forever and a day."

She tore up the check and said, "Let's go home."

I was more than shocked. Looking back on it now, I do not know what I thought.

We went back to our small apartment. It was there that Mary told me why she wanted the abortion. She told me she was seduced at just thirteen. She said she thought the older guy loved her, but all he wanted was her cunt. She got pregnant and he disappeared. It was shortly before women could get abortions. She had to give up the baby. I had to agree. There was no way I could see a fourteen-year-old being a mother. She cried. I cried.

Two years later we got married. My little son Mike was my best man. He looked angelic in his small tuxedo. We purchased a house. Two years later my daughter was born. We named her Carla.

In all that time, we still fucked like bunnies. It never got old and we never grew tired of it.

Now get ready, here comes the rain part.

One day we were on an Interstate on our way to the mountains for our vacation. Carla was just nine and Mike was thirteen.

Then out of nowhere there was this tractor-trailer truck bearing down on me. I had but a second to find a way out, but I knew I did not have a chance.

CRASH!

I still have nightmares about it, mixed with my time at war.

One day some time later I woke up. I had bandages everywhere. Needles and tubes hung from my arm, another tube was stuck down my throat, and there was this incessant "Beep! Beep! Beep!"

Then some woman dressed in white said, "Good afternoon. How do you feel?"

My first thought was, "I feel like shit," but that's not what I tried to say. I said in a tube blocked, low hoarse voice, "My wife, my kids?"

"We will talk about that later." she answered.

I did not get the chance to respond. Out I went again. Five days later, they removed my tube and most of my IVs. Each and every one of those five lousy, stinking days I asked and asked, but they would never answer me about my wife and kids.

Two days later I was sure I was the only one left. But when they told me my wife and son were both dead and my daughter was still in intensive care, I still cried like a baby.

I guess it was hope that kept me from doing it, crying, in the first place. I did not know what to think, but I knew this was not just rain. It was a shit storm that destroyed half of my family and threatened to take one more.

It took another ten days before I could get out of bed and finally see my daughter. More "OH SHIT!" She looked more dead than alive. But they told me she still had a chance; her brain was still alive.

I was pissed. I said, "You call that ALIVE? THEN WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU CALL DEAD?"

In went the needle and out I went. Tests and more tests. My brain was screwed. Chemical imbalance they called it. They gave me this pill and that pill, and more pills to prevent seizures.

Finally I was so mellow I could not harm a fly. They let me see my daughter again. I was so full of chemicals, I could not even cry.

One month later I was released from the hospital. I went to my empty house. I found no lights, no water or gas, and a ton of bills up my ass, and no way to pay them.

This is where I almost fucked it all up. I stopped taking my pills. I got the .45 I snuck back from the war. I went to the hospital and demanded my daughter's release.

To this day I don't even remember doing it. Well I was arrested, but they let me off with a slap on my wrist. It was the judge who did it. I guess he saw I was not really the sort of guy who went around with a .45. It was just my grief that made me act that way.

I took a second loan out on my house with a year of deferred payments and I paid all my bills. Then I got this letter offering me a settlement for the accident. I called the number in the letter and said, "No thanks." It was the pills, you see.

I got a lawyer. I found out they were supposed to be paying my bills. The truck driver was drunk. He survived the crash without a scratch. I hope he did well in jail. He was sentenced to six to twelve years for vehicular homicide. I'm a tad ahead of the story here.

It took two more months before my daughter woke up. Then it was this operation, that operation, this reconstruction. One whole year of the crap and still she would never walk.

I got a big pile of money, enough for us to live in comfort the rest of our days. But what is money or comfort, compared to a life?

My daughter was now ten and she needed help with everything, but I did not mind. In fact it gave me a reason to go on.

Then one day things got strange. I was changing my daughter's diaper. It was when I was cleaning her vagina that it happened. Damn those baby wipes. As I wiped her she moaned. It sent an electric shock to my hand and I pulled it back. She looked at me. I looked at her.

It was Carla who spoke first. "Daddy, I felt something."

"No shit," I thought. I was terrified. I had turned my daughter on by just wiping her, as I had done at least a thousand times before.

What the hell was I to do now? Did we have enough money for a caretaker?

"Daddy," my daughter said, "Was that like, sex?"

I cursed myself because of those damned books and talks that her mom and I had given Carla. Each year a little more information. We thought it was the right thing to do.

Why keep your children in the dark? The stork and shit like that just sounded, so dumb. Now because I was an enlightened parent I was damned.

All I could do was answer "Yes."

She said "Oh."

I said, "Are you sure you cannot wipe yourself?"

She gave me a big smile and showed me her rubber like arms. "Dad, I can't even lift a fork." she giggled.

It was the first time in a very long time I had seen her happy. "Tomorrow," I said, "I will get you a caretaker."

"DAD! No way." She was pissed.

"Carla," I said, "You know I cannot do it any more. "It would be Wrong! Wrong! ----"

I don't remember how many times I said it before she said, "Dad, It will be okay."

I looked at her and she smiled. It was that gut wrenching, heart pulling, tear your heart out and stomp it, you cannot refuse your daughter, smile.

I was about to say no, when she hit me with the ten tons of bricks. "Please."

Damn that "please"! It can melt fifty inches of steel, let alone the thin cover of ice that protects a daddy's heart from that "please"!

Slowly I reached my baby wipe full hand back to her still-developing vagina. When the baby wipe touched her vagina, I felt the fires of hell burning my soul. Tears welled up in my eyes.

"Daddy," my daughter said, "Please don't cry."

That "please" again! You just can't escape it. I answered "I will try."

Gently with that damn baby wipe, I masturbated my very own daughter. I really don't know when my hellish feelings stopped, but it was somewhere between her second moan and her first orgasm.

Somewhere in there I said, "Screw hell, so I am damned!" There was no other man who would ever truly love my beautiful, broken daughter. Men like the one who seduced my wife so long ago would pity Carla just to get into her pants.

I chucked the baby wipe and put my mouth to my daughter's vagina. Her vagina was almost a carbon copy of her mother's. It was also the first time I realized that. Before this moment it had been just something to wipe clean.

I licked her little slit with all the expertise the years had taught me. I suckled her little clit with all the love in my heart. She put her rubbery hand on my head and said, "Daddy, I love you."

I lifted my head and looked into her bright, glowing, living eyes and said, "I love you, forever and a day."

I put my mouth back on her wonderful, hairless vagina. It was not too long after that I felt her rubbery hand flopping on my slightly bald head.

When her rubbery hand stopped flopping she said, "Again Daddy, again!"

She was just like her mother who could never get enough. But then again neither could I.

Carla had three more orgasms before she was exhausted, and she quickly went into a deep and restful sleep.

I put a clean diaper on her and sat on her bed. I stretched out on the bed and took my own nap.

I don't remember how long I slept. All I remember is what happened next. I opened my eyes and saw my daughter's smile.

"Daddy," she said, "You do know I will have to get my tubes tied."

"No way!" I said.

"Please, Daddy."

Damn that "please"!

"You're too young." I said, giving it the old college try.

"According to the books, I am not."

Damn those damned books!

"Pretty please."

You think a "please" is bad, forget a "pretty please". It is a million times worse.

Throw me a life preserver, I am sunk. I gave it one last-ditch effort. "It will hurt."

She smiled! By now, we all know what that does.

I slowly undressed her, taking in every inch of her scarred skin. I lifted her nude body out of her wheelchair. Gently I placed her on the bed. I kissed all her sweet scars until my mouth landed on her vagina.

She was already wet. It did not take long before her rubbery arm was flopping on my slightly bald head.

I lifted myself over her frail body. I put my lips to hers. We kissed long and deep for some time, before I placed my hard cock against her vagina.

Slowly I pushed my cock into her vaginal hole. She no longer had a hymen because of all those damn tubes.

As each inch of my cock sank into her body, she never stopped smiling, not once.

When my balls kissed her butt she said, "Daddy, I love you!"

"I love you, forever and a day."

As I slowly fucked my own daughter I could not help but think, that it was this same act with her mother, ten years and nine months ago, that created my loving daughter.

She wrapped her rubbery arms around my neck. It did not take long before I was ready to cum. Her rubbery arms flopped on my neck and I spilled my seed into my own daughter's vagina. A vagina that was already a part of me.

We played silly games, we ate, we slept together, and we fucked like bunnies.

Epilogue

Where is that damn nurse? Come on woman, I've been ringing for at least two minutes. And don't forget the damn baby wipes.

That's right, I am seventy-seven now. I don't regret one moment. My daughter died nine years ago. Soon I will join Carla, wherever she is. She deserves heaven, she had hell here.

I guess in the end it was a little rain after all. A little rain that broke my daughter, but kept that one little important part of her, her spirit, alive.

Email loki925@hotmail.com