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Subject: Chrissy's Chronicles Book 1 (Mg, fg, Mfg, inc, voy, rom, slow)
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Date: Fri, 11 Jun 2004 04:00:58 +0000
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Chrissy's Chronicles Book 1 (Mg, fg, Mfg, inc, voy, rom, slow)
by 7.92x57
FIRST things first I guess. This is an erotic story written for the
enjoyment of consenting adults. If you are not consenting don't read it
(now that made a lot of sense). If you are not an adult don't read it.
This story contains pedophilia and incest. If this offends you or violates
your personal moral code DON'T READ IT.
SECOND: While I have the soapbox I want to say something about the
nature of fantasy. That is what this story is FANTASY. I do not condone
or agree with the activities portrayed in this story. Anyone in real life
who harms a child deserves to be castrated then shot. That said, what is
harm? Is a consenting, loving, sexual relationship between a child and an
adult harmful? If done with care it is not physically harmful but there
are other kinds of harm. Is it emotionally harmful? Perhaps, perhaps not,
in actuality it probably varies case by case. Children don't have labels,
there is no tag that says 'I can handle sex'. So for that reason alone
caring adults should not consider a sexual relationship with a child
(uncaring adults are going to do as they damn well please).
THIRD: Now I wish to speak on incest. I have no problem on a moral
level with incest. I even consider the idea erotic (go figure) on an
abstract level. I only have problems with incest is when it involves an
adult and a child. The adult whether he/she be a parent or uncle/aunt or
whatever is in a position of authority over the child. That brings in the
possibility of coercion. Even if this is not intended there will be an
element of it there just because of the authority position. Most children
want to please their parents. A child that is subject to sexual advances
by a parent may acquiesce even if this is not something they wish to do.
I
would have the same problem if the adult were a teacher or a principle.
Other than that I have no problems with incest. If a brother and sister
want to play around under the sheets, as long as certain precautions are
taken, more power to them.
LAST: I want to speak on the nature of eroticism. This is in two parts,
the first ties in with the nature of fantasy above. I find many things
erotic in literature, these include, pedophilia, incest, bestiality,
torture, rape, water sports etc... Very few of these things would I find
erotic if I was a participant. Let me state that again, not only would I
not do them (for moral reasons) but the thought of actually doing them
turns me off like a light. Curious, I enjoy reading about them but the
thought of doing them is repellant. Now for the second part, I have for
many years read erotic stories, starting with filched copies of Penthouse
Letters as a teenager then downloading them from BBS's and finally the
internet. I have found many, many erotic stories that I have enjoyed
immensely. I have also found a great deal of duds. To be erotic a story
needs several things. It has to be believable both in the setting and the
actions/reactions of the participants. A story where a child walks into
a
pool hall, raises her dress and takes on everybody in the place would not
be erotic for me no matter how hot the sex, because I would not believe it.
A story has to be descriptive. Adjectives and adverbs are important.
Don't tell me that Jane dropped to her knees and fucked the dog. Tell me
what she feels, what she says, how she moves. Don't tell me a child is
cute. Describe her, what is her skin tone, what color are her eyes, her
hair? How soft is her skin? What is she thinking?
God I felt like shit. Sitting here in a police station waiting for my
own daughter to be brought to me. They'd given me a few minutes alone with
her before she'd gone before the judge (that was done via video hookup).
I'd gone into the cramped, smelly little conference room in a towering
rage. How dare she embarrass me by vandalizing cars! Her and that group
of
trailer trash hellions she hung around with. I'd taught her better than
that.
I'd just fired my opening salvo when she'd lifted her dainty little chin
and met my gaze. The look of pure anguish in those pure blue eyes had
frozen my heart and thankfully my mouth.
"It's all about you daddy. It's always about you. Your conferences,
your meetings, your dinner dates." Her voice was clear and low, she wasn't
hysterical or quavering. It was the voice of sad resignation and it broke
my heart.
"And now it's still about you. I've embarrassed you, you say. I've
hurt you." She blinked those big blue eyes and a tear slid down one ivory
cheek. "When it does it get to be about me?"
On the defensive I flustered, "Now baby you know I'm interested in you.
In your future."
"You check my homework, generally after I'm asleep."
"Homework is important. An education is important. As for my hours
baby that's part of my career, my path, OUR path to success."
She dropped her head. "I don't feel too successful daddy." She raised
her head and again met my gaze. "Do you remember my school play?"
Startled by the change in topic, at least I thought it was a change in
topic, I stammered, "Yes honey of course. You played a dancer....uhh....I
think."
"I played a waitress, the play was 'That Night at the Truck Stop.' I
practiced for weeks and weeks. I wanted so badly for you to be proud of
me. To see me at my best. But you didn't show up. I kept staring into the
audience as I recited my lines but you weren't there."
"Baby I had an emergency call. I'm a lawyer. These things happen."
"And my soccer championship. I practiced so hard, I drove my teammates
to practice hard because I wanted my daddy to see us win the cup." She
dropped her head back down. Her long blond tresses curtaining her face.
"But you didn't show up."
I started to speak but she went on, her words like a hammer driving
spikes into my soul.
"My piano recital, remember that. I spent hours and hours at the
keyboard. I practiced till my fingers ached night after night because I
wanted my daddy to see me in my sequined gown setting upright at that
beautiful piano making lovely music." She looked up and her face, till now
calm, crumpled. "But you didn't show up!"
"All these things I did for you daddy. I wanted you to be proud of me.
To hug me, to tell me how great I was." She sobbed, "But you never noticed
daddy."
"I noticed baby-"
She went on steamrollering me, her tears now flowed like a river. "Well
daddy, I finally got you to notice me." She held up her thin shackled
wrists. "And this time you showed up."
I started out of my reverie as footsteps approached. A heavyset
policewoman approached with my daughter in tow. At all of 4'7" Chrissy
looked lost in the Day-Glo orange issue jumpsuit.
"Mr. Powell?"
I stood. "That's right."
She consulted a clipboard. "Judge Redding has agreed to your request
to
release your daughter to your custody. If she stays out of trouble for one
year and pays full reimbursement for all damages her record will be wiped.
Sign here."
I took the clipboard and scrawled my mark. Doctors and lawyers have one
thing in common other than malpractice cases. We both sign so many papers
that the signature quickly degenerates into an illegible flourish.
The policewoman removed the shackles and leg irons from my daughter,
ridiculous precautions for a 9 year old girl but rules were rules. The
three of us made our way to the property room. The clerk there took the
chit the policewoman gave him and passed over a stapled paper bag in
return.
I waited outside the restroom while Chrissy changed. She finally poked
her head around the door sheepish and fearful. Why became apparent when
the rest of her followed a moment later. My blond angel wore a cropped
white top that left her tanned midriff bare. The black micro-mini skirt
she wore with it came only a few spare inches above her crotch and left a
lot of thin shapely leg exposed. I'd seen kinder-slut clothes like that
on
mall rats and always tisked to myself with the other shoppers, 'their
parents let them out like that. The family must not be much.'
I started to explode, 'You were wearing that!', but contained myself at
the last second. When Chrissy finally met my eye I simply smiled and took
her hand. "Let's go get something to eat baby."
As she skipped across the street toward the car those muscular legs
flashed under the streetlights and her dancing skirt shot tantalizing
glimpses of her panties. When my cock started to respond I shamed it down.
I had to get my ashes hauled. When I started perving on my daughter it had
been too long!
There was a Denny's just down the road. We commandeered a booth in the
back and ordered. Once the food was gone we talked. Probably the first
real talk we'd had in years. There was crying on both sides of the table.
The waitress kept our glasses full and never said a word about us tying up
a booth. When we left it was after midnight. I left a fifty dollar tip.
The next day was a Saturday. Generally I went in to the office even on
Saturdays. Today I called in. When Chrissy came bouncing down the stairs
in her nighty she seemed surprised to see me sitting at the table.
I cooked us both a big breakfast, I'm a good cook, then asked Chrissy
what SHE wanted to do today. We ended up doing a movie, a mushy thing that
didn't interest me but Chrissy loved. She spent most of it hanging on my
arm, her silky hair brushed my cheek. She smelled of strawberry shampoo
and lilac soap. Her giggles were like bells ringing in my heart.
After the movie we did the park. The local one had a small petting zoo.
We petted and fed then went wondering down the maze of nature trails.
Finally we bought sandwiches and sodas from a vendor cart and settled on
a
secluded bench to eat.
"I've been thinking baby. You know school will be out in a couple of
weeks. How about we take a vacation, a nice long one, just the two of us."
Chrissy exploded in glee. She threw her arms around me. "Do you mean
it daddy, really, really?"
"Really, really baby." Her happiness was so contagious that not even the
wet feeling of soda running down my back bothered me much.
That night I tucked her in then got on the internet. I plumbed a couple
of the travel agency sites before finding a link to 'Between the States
Outfitters'. I clicked on it and browsed around. The establishment rented
houseboats on the Cumberland river. They were located on the
Kentucky/Tennessee border. Another click brought up a map. There were
hundreds of miles of river and countless lakes that you could explore. I
made my decision then and there. I clicked on 'reserve' and entered my
credit card information. Three weeks rental on an 'Adventurer' cost
$1785.21. They even stocked the larder.
As I expected I had trouble at work. The Senior partner, old Mr. Combs
shook his head. "Terry I'm sorry but I can't let you go. You know what
the caseload is like."
'Sure you old goat I know, just enough that you can take off pheasant
hunting or fly fishing a dozen times a year.' Aloud I said, "Mr. Combs I
have the vacation time coming and I need some time with my daughter. I
haven't taken off in two years."
"Hmmmm..your daughter, heard about that. Ought to use the strap on that
little monster, or send her off. A little reform school will do wonders.
As for vacation, I know its been a while. See me again in a couple of
months, maybe I can let you have a week or so then." As the old man
swiveled his chair to present its supple leather back to me, his way of
ending a conversation with finality, I imagined the look on Chrissy's
pretty face when I told her that her father had failed her again.
"Mr. Combs I am not asking to be given time off. I'm telling you that
I'm taking it."
The chair stopped in mid swivel then slowly reversed. The old man
peered at me over his wire rimmed glasses, every inch the image of the
grizzled courtroom lawyer. "How was that?"
"I have two months of vacation coming. Written firm policy says I must
give two weeks notice and clear my docket prior to taking any of it. I'm
giving you 17 days notice that I plan to take one month. As for my docket,
Wills and Clevy have already agreed to split my cases."
The old man stared for a moment. "Hmmm, that how it is. You know Terry
I was thinking you had the stuff to be a junior partner. Now I just don't
know. It takes commitment you know. I guess you just don't have the
stuff."
I gritted my teeth and smiled. He held that promise over everyone's
head to keep their nose to the grinding stone. Two of the old man's
grandsons were partners. Neither had been with the firm as long as me.
"I
guess not. Actually I've been thinking of opening my own office anyway.
You know a lot of the corporate people ask for me by name." I smiled at his
sour look. Put that in your pipe and smoke it you old fart.
The days flew by. I had to put in some long hours to bring my two
co-workers up to speed on my caseload. Barry Wills was your average
lawyer, stolid but not brilliant. Nancy Clevy was another breed on animal
altogether. Hired as the token black woman to show how progressive the
firm was she'd proved to be a professional dynamo and in my opinion the
best lawyer in the firm, including me.
Finally the glorious day arrived. Giggling like siblings rather than
father and daughter, Chrissy and I shoved the Blazer till not another bag
would fit then hopped aboard. We sang '100 bottles of beer on the wall'
as
the city vanished behind us.
Later, as day bled to night I felt Chrissy's warmth as she slept with
her head on my shoulder. The soft 'whuffs' of her breath smelled faintly
of mint. As I drove I remembered her mother. Diane had been a wonderful
woman, dynamic, sexy and gloriously alive. Our sex life had been energetic
and delightfully kinky. In particular she had loved flashing my glimpses
of her lovely charms in the most unusual and public of places. Dozens of
times I'd been given ass, tit and cunt shots as we sat at dinner in some
ritzy restaurant or enjoyed the theatre. I'd blush as my conservative
lawyer values were offended then take her home and fuck her till the small
hours.
That sainted partnership had come to an end when Chrissy was three. A
crossing gate had failed and a barreling freight had smacked my wife's
beloved Bug Eyed Sprite like a sledge hammer would a cockroach. They'd had
to cut her remains from the mangled sports car in pieces. The service had
been closed casket.
I received a generous settlement. Probably more than generous once the
railroad found out I was a lawyer. I'd invested it wisely but it couldn't
replace my beloved Diane. I realized now that I'd compensated by throwing
myself into my career. Six day weeks and sixteen hour days had been my
norm. In the process I'd badly neglected the wonderful daughter my and
Diane's love had created. God I was an idiot.
We stopped for the night at a Best Western. I registered then drove to
the room. Gently I picked my sleeping angel up and carried her inside.
She slept on as I removed her shoes and socks. I unsnapped her shorts and
eased them off her round little butt. As I did her little panties came
into view. They'd ridden up during the day till they were stretched tight
over her bald little mound. Her slit was plainly visible. Fuck, my cock
stirred again as I stared.
Chrissy moved, drawing my gaze to her face. Her eyes were open and she
was looking at me with a tired smile on her face. Shit, had she caught me
staring at her cunt?
"Hi daddy."
"Hi baby, sorry to wake you I was just putting you to bed."
"'Sallright, gotta potty anyway."
She stood and finished shucking her shorts then headed for the bathroom.
Her panties had pulled up in the rear as well exposing the lower halves of
her little white cheeks. I ordered my cock down and began getting ready
for bed myself. No doubt about it, I had to get laid!
We reached the outfitters shortly after noon the next day. It was a
sprawling place set in a small valley. A campground was off to the left,
trailers, tents and motor homes peaked through a thick covering of pine,
oak and walnut. The air smelled of wood smoke, charcoal lighter fluid and
the ozone tang of water.
I parked in the area marked 'Long Term Rental Parking' and we got out.
I
locked the Blazer then arm in arm we strolled to the rental office.
The two-story building was actually built on the dock. I had assumed
this was on fixed pylons but it turned out that the entire arrangement was
afloat. The individual sections were connected by lengths of short chain
with hinged boards over the joints. The moved up and down in relation to
each other on the wakes of passing powerboats. The movement was
accompanied by the groan of timbers as wood rubbed on wood or on the old
tired used as fenders. Chrissy thought it was very neat. From somewhere
in my past the tow headed boy I had once been peaked out. It was kinda
neat.
A heavyset man with a straw hat and a polo shirt that said 'Buddy'
shuffled file cards till he came up with what he was looking for. "Terry
Powell, three week prepaid on an Adventurer?"
"That's right."
He frowned and dug into another pile of cards. "Hmm.. Well Mr. Powell
we've had a little mix up. Thing is I don't have any Adventurers left.
One of my dim witted boys let the last one three days ago even though it
was clearly marked 'reserved'.
Beside me Chrissy's face crumpled. I looked pretty shocked myself.
Buddy threw up a pudgy hand to forestall my protest and went on. "I do
have boats. Now what I can do is let you have a 'Honeymooner' for the same
price. I'll even throw in a Jacuzzi. That's normally $100 a week extra."
"What's the difference in the Adventurer and the Honeymooner?"
"Well the Honeymooner's actually a bigger boat. She's 28 feet rather
than 24. A couple more luxury features as well. Costs more to rent too."
He glanced down at Chrissy then back at me. "Thing is its only got one
queen sized bed compared to the Adventurer's six bunks. If its just you
and your daughter that shouldn't be that much of a hardship."
Share a bed with Chrissy. I thought of my previous episodes of arousal
around her and opened my mouth to say no. Chrissy interceded however.
She bounced up and down at my side, "Say yes daddy, say yes, say yes!"
I looked down and she beamed up at me. Her eyes were blue lakes in that
lovely blond framed face.
I turned back to Buddy, "Fine we'll take it."
We pulled the Blazer around to the dock while a youth of about sixteen
brought the boat around. We then started transferring gear while two other
boys brought a pontoon boat alongside. The promised Jacuzzi sat on the
pontoons deck. The railings on both boats were taken down then the three
boys muscled the spa onto the houseboats small back porch and bolted it to
the pre-installed mounting points.
Once the last bag had been stowed I re-parked the Blazer then Chrissy
and I oohed and ahhed our way through a fifteen minute lecture on the
features and running of our boat. We were handed pamphlets including one
from the Coast Guard entitled 'Rules of the Road'. That done the youths
waved farewell and we were on our own.
I spent a few minutes familiarizing myself with the controls then
started the engine. I had Chrissy release the stern line then cranked the
wheel hard left and put the engine in reverse. The stern swung out into
the sluggish current. My call to slip the bow was answered by an excited
'Aye aye Captain.' I let her go back till we were a good twenty yards off
shore then put the engine in forward and turned her downstream. We were
underway. Our adventure had begun.
There was a chart laminated to the paneling alongside the helm. I'd
already decided to head south into Tennessee but consulted it again anyway.
As we chugged along Chrissy was a youthful dynamo, bouncing the boat like
a
hurricane on two legs. In the first hour she'd opened every cupboard, dug
into every locker and crawled through every closet. With each new
discovery she'd come charging into the lounge and report her findings to
me.
I decided to stop before dark and eased the houseboat up to the right
bank. It was heavily wooded with a narrow hard packed clay beach. Ten
feet in a rusty fence was decorated by 'No Trespassing' signs.
I nosed up till I felt the bow just touch then backed off a few feet.
Chrissy dropped the anchor and I let the boat drift another ten feet down
river before calling for her to lock the winch. Gently our rented steed
halted then swung on her rope till the stern was down river.
The boat had both a full kitchen and a little barbecue grill that could
be erected on the aft porch. We had a wonderful little beach however and
there was plenty of driftwood so we decided to build a fire ashore.
Chrissy made the five foot leap to solid ground without a problem. I, less
limber, ended up in water to my knees, much to the delight of my darling
daughter.
We built a roaring bonfire then cooked steaks and potatoes over the
coals. We then sat and talked for an hour or so.
Chrissy showered first. Taking so long at it that she drained the
boat's teakettle sized hot water heater. She giggled all the way through
my shower as I oohed and ahhed at the cold water. When I emerged in my
boxers I found her dressed in one of my old t-shirts. She was already in
bed. I climbed in beside her and then leaned over and turned out the
light. I'd just pulled the sheets up when she wiggled over to my side of
the bed and pressed her supple little body next to mine. Her damp head
came to rest on my chest. Her bare thigh burned where it touched my leg.
She gave a gentle sigh and drifted quickly to sleep. I lay for a long time
fighting down my traitor cock and listening to the muted hum of the
generator.
I got us underway the next morning while Chrissy cooked breakfast. I'd
decided to use the auxiliary helm located atop the cabin and was enjoying
the early morning air and feeling quite the yachtsman when Chrissy climbed
the narrow circular stair from the lounge. She stepped up beside me and
set a plate on the console. The smell of bacon and eggs was mouth
watering. I turned to thank her and stopped in shock. Chrissy had changed
into her bathing suit. A conservative one piece that I'd bought her the
previous year. She'd grown in that year however and the suit was no longer
quite so conservative. She still had nothing on top but the crotch of the
suit was pulled up tight between her legs. The outline of her pre-teen
mound was plainly visible.
Chrissy saw the look on my face and smiled. She did a quick pirouette,
the suit was now high on her thighs and half of her round little cheeks
were exposed. The demarcation between her tanned legs and the milky white
of her buttocks was clear, and damned stimulating.
She faced me again, the smile still on her face. "You like?"
I wiped the shocked look off of my face. "Baby I think we need to buy
you a new bathing suit. That one is not supposed to show so much."
She twirled a length of her blond hair, idly brushing it across her full
lips as she swayed back and forth. "I bet the boys will like it," she
giggled before leaning in to give me a peck on the cheek. "But I'll take
a
new one anyway." She danced back toward the ladder to retrieve her own
breakfast. My eyes followed that round little backside every step. When
she had vanished below I pulled my eyes back to the front and adjusted my
cock. Boys hell, dirty old men would fucking love it. My continued pangs
of lust for my own daughter put me in an ugly mood and I grunted and
grumped my way through Chrissy's animated breakfast conversation.
Afterwards she decided to lay out and get some sun. Thankfully the sundeck
was behind me.
At noon we were approaching a little fish camp called 'Mud Pike Fishin'
Hole'. The signs we'd been passing for the last ten miles claimed, 'Best
Catfish in the South' and 'Good Eats.' After a discussion we decided to
test the claims and I crossed the river and snuggled alongside one of the
docks. The boat had a marine band radio but in a curious case of stage
fright I hadn't yet tried to use it. I was afraid I'd sound like a redneck
out of a bad 70's trucker movie. Instead I just gave several long blasts
on the horn. A girl in her late teens came out and directed us down a few
slips before taking the lines Chrissy heaved her.
The girl's name was Heather. She had a mouthful of shiny braces and a
set of perky little titties that must have been fairly new, at least the
way she shoved her chest out to draw attention to them seemed to indicate
she hadn't had them long. She was pretty in a gum chewing, teen heart
throb kind of way and the Daisy Duke shorts she wore certainly put all of
her assets on display. Chrissy caught me staring and elbowed me in the
ribs. I'd made her pull a conservative pair of nylon runners shorts over
her bathing suit.
The Mud Pike Fishin' Hole was as good as its word. We were brought
heaping plates of batter fried catfish complete with coleslaw and genuinely
good mashed potatoes. The latter was surprising, most restaurants have
mashed potatoes only slightly more palatable than joint compound.
Sated, we wondered next door to the well stocked little store. All of
the merchandise was overpriced but that went with the territory. I picked
out two cheap rod and real combos and was sorting through the displayed
tackle when Chrissy came up to me. "How about this one daddy?"
"This what?," I mumbled as I sorted through various lures. Fishing was
one of my passions as a young man. I hadn't done near enough of it in
recent years.
"Bathing suit silly. You said you'd buy me one."
I looked up to see my daughter holding out a neon pink bit of fluff that
had less material in it than a self respecting shirt pocket. I was
surprised that a fishing camp in bible belt Tennessee even had such a
thing. "A little racy isn't it honey?"
"Dadeeeee, we're on vacation remember. Besides, it's just my size." She
shot me that dazzling smile. I held firm as a straw dike.
"Alright honey we'll get it."
She jumped up and bussed my cheek before wondering off to do more
shopping. "Thanks daddy."
Daddy felt guilty. How much of daddy's agreement was to please his
darling daughter and how much was his desire to see that hard little body
in that tiny little suit. Daddy didn't know.
I ended up buying the rod and reels, a good selection of tackle, an out
of state fishing license for myself, a case of beer and of course Chrissy's
new bathing suit. The damage came to over $200. It would have been worse
but Chrissy was young enough not to require a fishing license in Tennessee.
Mine alone was over $100.
It was mid afternoon before we pushed off from the dock and headed down
river. Chrissy immediately dove into the cabin. I guessed what was coming
next and willed my cock to remain at ease. I was right. In less than five
minutes Chrissy emerged onto the sun deck wearing her new suit. Suit was
actually a misnomer, it didn't cover enough to be called a suit. It was
a
hybrid mix between a bikini and a one piece. The two parts were connected
but only by a complex arrangement of geometrically arranged spaghetti
straps. The bottom was not a thong, but it didn't miss that classification
by much. As she twirled before me three-fourths of that round little
derriere was on prominent display. A pontoon boat was passing the opposite
direction. A teen boy whistled from the deck.
"Very nice baby," I stumbled.
Pleased at my compliment and blushing from the whistle Chrissy went to
lay out. I turned back to the river and fought my cock to a more
comfortable position. Fucker wouldn't listen to orders.
That night I nosed the boat up into a small creek that dwindled away to
nothing 100 feet in. We backed off and dropped the hook where it was still
wide enough and cooked hamburgers on the grill. An even smaller stream
entered ours just opposite of the boat. A little after supper exploration
uncovered a shallow limestone pool a dozen feet into the woods. The water
was clear and the bottom was sandy. It was the perfect swimming hole.
From the amount of faded beer cans littered about it was apparent the
locals though so too.
We rushed back to the boat and changed into swimsuits. As the sun set
we were frolicking and splashing like children. Horseplay soon led to a
wrestling match which shortly led to my hand cupping Chrissy's soft, warm
little ass. With her new suit it wasn't fabric I was palming but the
delightful flesh of that delightful bottom. I released her quickly enough
but soon found myself again looking for an opening to caress my darling's
pre-teen butt. A score of times my hairy paw slid across that wet, soft
smoothness. A few times I even managed to brush my fingers between her
legs and over her puffy little mound. When we finally agreed to call it
a
night I had to sit for some minutes to let my raging cock return to its
flaccid state.
That night when Chrissy nestled up to me I slid my arm beneath her head
and allowed my hand to rest on her fabric covered hip. I massaged gently
as she dozed off, the temptation to ease my old T up and get directly to
her little panty covered butt was great. Only the fear that she would wake
stopped me. I drifted off to sleep with images of my face buried between
my daughter's soft, shapely thighs dancing in my lecherous head.
The next day found us headed into more virgin wilderness. The built up
tourist area of the border was behind us as well as most of the boat
traffic. Chrissy was again sunning herself when we came up on another
houseboat anchored across the river. The man at the helm waved as did the
mid-thirties woman climbing up the stern boarding ladder. The latter
wasn't wearing a stitch.
Chrissy giggled behind me after we passed the other boat. "Daddy that
lady was naked!"
"I know baby. Some people like to swim in the nude. It's called skinny
dipping."
"But people can see!"
"Well baby out here there aren't many people. It doesn't bother some
people to be seen without clothes on as long as only a few people might see
them. Most folks are a little more modest though. They generally wait
till after dark to go skinny dipping."
The conversation had been entirely innocent on my part. I didn't even
dream of where that inane little explanation would take us.
We had a lunch of hot dogs and chips as we chugged down the river. I
decided to stop early today and get some fishing in. We found a sheltered
little cove and pulled in. There was a small stony bank with a gentle
slope as well as the inevitable fence and signs. The folks who owned river
front property sure were a friendly lot. Of course if the average boater
had been a little more careful to pick up after themselves it might have
helped. I fished for several hours but caught nothing. Chrissy tried a
few casts then decided this fishing thing was pretty boring.
There was little firewood so we cooked frozen pizza in the boats oven
then built a small fire on the shore and roasted marshmallows. As the
darkness closed in around us the whippoorwills began to sing in the trees.
I was on my third beer and feeling wonderfully mellow when Chrissy spoke
from across the popping coals. "Daddy it's dark now."
"Uhuh."
"I was wondering?"
"What baby."
"Could we go skinny dipping?"
My head jerked up and I stared across the dying blaze. Chrissy's pretty
face was tinted red by the glow. Her eyes twinkled in the firelight. Her
expression was lost in the gloom.
"I don't know baby. I don't think that would be a good idea."
"Please daddy, I wanna try it at least once." She turned to sweep an arm
across the expanse of the darkened river. "There's no one around."
"I'm around baby."
"Silly, you're my daddy. You don't count."
If she'd known my shameful thoughts as of late her opinion on that might
have changed. I should have said no and been firm about it but the beer
was having its say and I wavered. "Are you sure you want to baby. Some
fish might bite you in a sensitive spot."
"Daddeeeee."
"Okay baby, if you want, but not for long. We've got a full day
tomorrow."
"Yippee", Chrissy surged to her feet and grabbed me by the hand. She
pulled so hard that I almost overbalanced and ended up in the fire. We
boarded the boat and moved to the aft porch where the swim ladder was.
Chrissy seemed ready to strip off right there but I halted her. "We're
going to take some precautions baby." I ducked into the cabin and began
rummaging through the lockers. I found what I was after a short search.
The little blister pack had come with the boat. It contained four
bracelets with little chemical lights attached. 'Swim Safe', the package
claimed.
I pulled two of them out and bent the little chemlights to activate
them. They glowed a brilliant yellow/green. I put one on my wrist and gave
the other to Chrissy and made sure she put it on. I then self consciously
began removing my shoes as my daughter peeled off her top and began to
wriggle out of her tight cutoffs. I gave strict orders to my cock not to
get hard and it seemed to be listening. The beer helped in this regard,
as
did concentrating on my shoes and not my now nearly naked daughter.
Chrissy's panties dropped to the deck and with a delighted yell she dove
over the side. I looked up just in time to see just a flash of her pale
butt as the cleaved the water cleanly. I quit dawdling and hurriedly
stripped out of my clothing before jumping in myself. The water was cool
and refreshing. In the darkness it was also pitch black. The wisdom of
the light bracelets was obvious.
We played and swam for a while without any contact, races and that sort
of thing. Several times Chrissy climbed back aboard and demanded I watch
this or that dive. I did avidly, the moon had risen by now and each time
allowed me to view my daughters sleek nudity. My fucking dick was getting
hard.
Chrissy called for me to do some cannonballs but I begged off. There
was no way I was climbing out of the water in front of my innocent daughter
with seven inches of jutting hardon waving in the breeze.
I was resting alongside the boat with one hand gripping the deck when
I
realized I could no longer see Chrissy's light. I peered around idly for
a
moment then began to get concerned when I still didn't see her. I began
to
spin wildly, my eyes sweeping the water. The image of my darling daughter
reaching for me as she sunk into the depths filled my mind.
I had no more than a quarter of a second notice, just a little swirl in
the water, then a hand slapped my ankle. Lithe as an eel, Chrissy rocketed
beneath me and surfaced ten feet beyond. She shook the water from her
blond tresses and grinned impishly. "You're it daddy." With that she was
off again.
It was I, the combination of affront at the fright she had given me and
fatherly playfulness made me game. I was after her in a flash. She
surfaced again near shore then turned to look for me. She let out a shriek
when she the disembodied light on my wrist rising from the depths only a
few feet away. She spun away and took a single stroke but it was too late.
I tagged her on the leg then raced past her. I surfaced a dozen feet
beyond her and took a single breath before vanishing again beneath the
surface.
Our tag game lasted about fifteen minutes. The interval between tag and
re-tag came down as we both tired. I'd tried to limit my touches to
Chrissy's extremities but several times my fingers had brushed her soft
thighs, her silky belly or her rounded little posterior. Mine hadn't been
the only wondering hands. Several times a small finger had slid across my
hairy balls and once she'd even brushed my cock. I was sure the contacts
had been accidental, fairly sure.
We were both tired and beginning to shrivel up like prunes. It was time
to call it a night. Chrissy got out first. I admired her white butt and
muscular legs as she climbed the ladder to the deck. Instead of going
inside like I expected she simply backed against the cabin and stood
toweling off. I waited a minute or so but she made no move to go inside.
"Chrissy baby, go inside so I can get out of the water."
"Go ahead daddy, don't mind me."
Fuck she wanted to play games and I had a hard dick. "Well turn around
then." "Uh uh, you saw me!"
Fuck and double fuck. I knew if I let out one of my bellow class orders
that she would scurry inside quickly enough. It would also harm the
budding father/daughter bonding that I'd been working so hard at. Cursing
under my breath I mounted the ladder. In three strides I stood dripping
on
the deck. I reached for the towel Chrissy held out but it wasn't placed
in
my hand. My daughter stood frozen, her gaze on my jutting hardon. I
snatched the towel and quickly dried off. Chrissy came out of her daze as
the object of her fascination vanished under terrycloth. She stood
grinning at me till I popped her with the towel and told her to get inside
and make some hot chocolate. She giggled and let out a little 'Aye, aye
Captain,' before skipping out of sight. She dropped her towel just before
vanishing through the door. My last glimpse was the round whiteness of her
butt.
The next morning I let Chrissy have a try at the top helm. She was
delighted and struck a proud pose for any other boats we happened to pass.
Especially if they had young boys on them. She wore her new bathing suit
though to her disgust I'd insisted on a pair of shorts over the bottoms.
She caught on quickly and within an hour I had enough confidence in her
to retrieve my tackle and drop a line over the aft deck. I had Chrissy
slow to trolling speed and began to happily fish, my rod in one hand and
a
cold beer in the other.
The movement seemed to be the trick. I began getting hits right away
and within an hour had landed several bass. I became more selective,
tossing out the smaller ones and only keeping the larger ones. By lunch
I
had a half dozen of 12" plus dangling from my stringer.
I took over the helm and nosed us into the bank, A large willow draped
its branches and its shade over the river here. We eased up underneath and
dropped anchor.
I'd expected Chrissy to be grossed out at the details of cleaning fish.
To my surprise she jumped in like a trooper and was soon filleting and
scaling like a pro. I whipped up a marinade and within minutes the first
of the fillets were sizzling on the grill. Chrissy looked up from where
she was cutting the last fillet loose and grinned at me. She looked so
impishly cute with glistening fish scales in her hair that I leaned forward
and gave her a kiss on the lips.
A shocked look crossed her face and my heart fell. I'd fucked up. A
second later however she darted forward and returned the favor, catching
me
in a lip lock. We kissed for a second and then separated, both looking
away in embarrassment. Fuck, why did I have to kiss her on the lips.
I suggested we get the fish scales off of us before we ate. Chrissy
gleefully agreed and quickly shimmied out of her shorts before diving over
the side. I followed a second after.
We ate on the top deck, luxuriating in the cool shade of the willow.
The bass was good even with nothing more inspired than pork and beans and
canned coleslaw to accompany it. We ate our fill then took our ease.
The food had made us loggy and we rambled on about nothing much while
I
gathered up the debris. Chrissy had rolled over onto her stomach seemed
on
the verge of nodding off. I was just rising to deposit my burden in the
galley when movement ashore caught my eye. I peered for a moment before
my
brain and eye got their act together and gave me a clear image. A bare
chested boy of about fourteen was squatting about midway up the steep bank.
He was all but hidden by the dense foliage of the willow. His ragged
cutoff shorts were around his knees. He was masturbating furiously while
staring at my daughter's all but bare little butt.
I stood frozen in shock for several seconds. Long enough for Chrissy
to
notice my silence. She rolled over and glanced at me then followed my gaze
ashore. A soft 'Oh' escaped her lips as she sighted the boy.
Realizing he'd been spotted the young teen yanked his pants up and
scampered up the slope. In seconds he had vanished.
Chrissy remained below while I got the anchor up and got us moving down
river again. When she did come up and join me she had donned a shirt and
warm-up pants over her bathing suit. She blushed when she met my gaze then
turned and stared ahead. Well, well, my liberated little darling wasn't
quite as liberated as she had thought. I steered us into the center of the
river and tried not to grin. We were approaching a bridge, and old two
lane thing of gray girders and rust. A half dozen ragged children sat
their bikes and watched as we chugged underneath. I wondered if one was
our voyeur. Chrissy simply glared at them all to be on the safe side.
The clouds began to gather in mid-afternoon. By four lightning was
stabbing at the trees on either bank and the wind was kicking up the water
in frothy whitecaps. The boxy houseboat made a fairly decent sail and soon
I had my hands full holding course. It was time to look for refuge.
We'd passed a small cove twenty minutes back. I considered briefly then
swung the boat around and headed back upriver. Maybe we would have found
as good a spot further on, maybe we wouldn't have. As soon as we were
steady on course I locked the upper controls and went below. The rain was
coming down in sheets by the time we nosed into the little shelter.
Chrissy braved the pounding rain long enough to drop the anchor. I decided
not to trust it and as soon as I had shut down the engine we both went back
out and rigged lines to the trees on the bank. Three lines from three
different directions offered peace of mind. By the time were finished we
were both soaked through.
I sent Chrissy back to the boat and made one more tour to check the
lines. The wind was now really kicking it. The trees were swaying and
groaning. I hoped none decided to fall on us during the night.
I entered the cabin to find my daughters clothes piled in a wet heap on
the linoleum floor of the galley. Her little girl cotton panties were atop
the heap I picked everything up and headed for the bathroom. I stepped
into the lounge and stopped cold. Chrissy stood in the middle of the room
toweling her hair. She was stark naked.
I stood in shock for a second then guiltily began to ogle my daughters
charms. Her whole head was encased in the towel she was vigorously
scrubbing her head with so I was safe for the moment. My eyes drifted up
those coltish dancer's legs, her sleek thighs, still little girl thin but
oh so sexy. My gaze stopped at her little snow white pussy and went no
further. Damn, it was perfect. The bald little lips were plump and
pronounced with just a hint of a tiny gap between them. They looked soft
and oh so enticing. Fuck! I knew where pedophiles came from now.
Something told me to look up. When I did I met my daughters curious
blue eyes. Shit, she'd caught me ogling her twat!. I waited for outrage
or recrimination, cringing the more because I knew it was well deserved.
Instead Chrissy just smiled sweetly, turned and headed for the aft cabin.
Her snowy little butt wiggled enticingly as she disappeared down the
companionway.
After a moment I stepped into the head. I hung Chrissy's things over
the cabinet sized shower then shucked my own clothes and added them to the
dripping, sodden mass. I toweled off hurriedly then pulled on my swimming
trunks which hung conveniently nearby.
When I emerged I went to the galley. I eschewed the beer and went
straight for the little mini-bar the boat came equipped with. Inside were
dozens of little airline sized bottles of liquor along with various mixers.
When we returned the bar would be inventoried and I'd pay though the nose
for each of those precious little bottles that had been so much as breathed
on. I was on my third straight vodka when Chrissy sashayed into the
galley. She wore one of my old T-shirts. It came to about mid-thigh on
her. As she began to rummage through the cupboards I tried not to think
about the skimpy panties that would be all she was wearing underneath. I
succeeded for the most part.
We supped on frozen pizza and corn chips. It was about as appetizing
as
it sounds but neither of us felt like getting more ambitious. Afterwards
I
popped the shrink wrap from one of the boats small library of DVD's and
popped it into the player. We plopped down on the sofa to watch. It was
something sappy and sentimental involving a too-cute girl and a dog. To
make it worse not a single thing exploded, of course Chrissy loved it.
About 10 minutes into the movie my daughter snuggled up to my side and
with a little sigh on contentment rested her head on my shoulder. Without
thinking I put my arm around her and hugged her to me, my hand falling on
her upturned hip. I figured she would be out in another few minutes and
I
could out a real movie on.
All thoughts of movies were driven from my brain by the feel of warm,
soft flesh beneath my fingers. Chrissy's impromptu nightgown had ridden
up
and she was wearing NOTHING beneath it. Oh shit, my hand was on her warm
little ass, my fingers well along the smooth inward curve that led into
that delightful cleft between her cheeks. Fuck, now what? Yanking my hand
away like I'd just touched a live wire didn't seem the correct approach.
Should I just nonchalantly pull her shirt down and pretend it was no big
deal? How in the hell does one go about removing one's hand from one's own
daughter's sexy little butt? The moment passed with my hand still in
place. I fought my dick down and waited for Chrissy's outraged protest.
With all the 'bad touching' indoctrination the kids get in school these
days I was sure I was in for it.
Chrissy simply sighed again and snuggled closer. My fingers slid into
her little crack. My insubordinate dick bypassed the chain of command and
sprang to attention. I gave up trying to control it and tried
concentrating on the movie. At the back of my mind a small voice tried to
tell me that perhaps I was having such trouble figuring how to remove my
hand from my daughters sleek little ass because I liked it right where it
was. I ignored that as well.
As predicted, Chrissy was asleep in minutes. The soft, regular 'whuff'
of her sweet breath in my ear told me that. I gently removed my hand from
her butt and sat her up. I gathered her into my arms and headed for the
bedroom.
I laid her out on her back and straightened her legs. I was reaching
for the T-shirt to pull it down when dick and alcohol ganged up on me. I
grasped the hem of her shirt alright but instead of pulling it down I
gently eased it up, exposing her bald little-girl twat. The snowy white
little lips almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the cabin. Trying
not to think I eased down to my knees before bending and placing a light
kiss on that pretty little pussy.
Guiltily I pulled her shirt down and then pulled up the sheet and tucked
her in. I kissed her again, this time on her rosy cheek then turned and
left.
I got another bottle of vodka and then dug into the boat's little stash
of soft porn, one advantage of a boat meant for newlyweds. Soon I had my
dick in my hand masturbating furiously. I tried to concentrate on the
parade of big boobs and round, tan asses that paraded across the little
screen but the image in my mind when I sprayed myself with cum had no boobs
at all and her ass was snowy white.
I cleaned up and put something on the DVD full of car crashes and gun
battles. I finished the boat's vodka supply before the end credits rolled.
I fumbled down to my boxers and stumbled into bed. I was still feeling
guilty and in a somewhat evil mood. I wanted nothing more than to sleep.
I'd sort it out in the morning, I hoped. I gave a final, drunken stretch
and the back of one hand encountered bare flesh. I scrabbled around till
I
encountered a prominent little shoulder blade. More curious than anything
I allowed my hand to slide down a long line of vertebrae till it
encountered the swell of a warm little butt. The little vixen, she was
nude. The alcohol and earlier relief kept me from popping a fresh boner.
We'd talk in the morning.
I awoke to a hangover and the teasing smell of coffee and bacon. I
fumbled to the head and pissed then splashed water on my face. I needed
a
shower and a shave. Both would wait for breakfast.
Chrissy was in the galley humming to herself as she flipped eggs. She
was wearing a midriff baring halter and a pair of loose cotton shorts.
Beside her sat a heaping plate of bacon and a full carafe of steaming
coffee. I made a beeline for the latter.
Chrissy wouldn't let me help with breakfast. She insisted I remain
seated while she bustled around filling plates and buttering toast. I
couldn't help but admire her. All of eleven years old and already the lady
of the boat.
The storm had left branches scattered about but done no harm. We swept
the deitrus over the side than released the lines. The water and the
tugging had caused two of my granny knots to lock into immobility. We had
to cut the lines. I vowed to study that knot chart a little closer.
I got us out in mid channel then let Chrissy take over. I tried some
more fishing but got no nibbles. I figured the rain was to blame. I took
the helm in mid morning. All through the morning I kept reminding myself
that me and my daughter needed to talk. The opportunity never seemed to
arise.
'Ruby's Bait' was a nearly derelict series of floating docks on the
inside of a bend in the river. Half of the establishment had sunk at some
time in the past and never raised. Only the roof of a long boathouse and
a
rusty Texaco sign marked its grave. I eased us up to the part still
afloat. A rotund grandfather type with no hair and about three teeth met
us
and took the lines. He grinned vacantly and stood blocking the gangway.
It took several moments for me to realize that the old coot had checked out
some time in the past.
A woman of perhaps 50 and of equal heft rolled out a door and shooed him
off. She then turned an eye to us, "Never know dad was once the best
outfitter in 100 miles." She shook her head sadly, "Alzheimer's, damned its
rotted little disease hide." She perked up after a moment, "Well come on
in
folks. Sit a spell, grab some grub."
The inside of Ruby's was rustic but pleasant. The store was crammed to
overflowing with fishing tackle, outboard parts and outdoorsy gimwacks.
The smell of fresh food, rotted wood and engine oil made a surprisingly
pleasant combination. A tiny counter was fronted by six stools. White
china plates and linen wrapped silverware fronted each stool.
We lunched brilliantly on venison steaks and fresh bread with corn on
the cob for spice. The woman was cook, waitress and tour guide rolled into
one. She waddled back and forth from the kitchen, keeping tea glasses and
bread basket full, all the while never once interrupting her monologue
about the river, its history, and its people.
As we ate we learned that the woman's grandsons took it in season. They
froze it and dolled it out to river travelers the year round. What we were
eating was very nearly the last of it. The question caused the woman to
shift gears. Now it was personal history we were treated to. The camp had
been prosperous back before her father's mind went. Then half the camp had
gone to a tornado and ended up on the bottom of the river. At about the
same time her daughter had gone to drugs and ended up in the morgue. It
was just her and the grandsons now, them and the drooling wreck that was
the remains of the patriarch. On and on she went, pouring her woes out to
strangers as if we were the most intimate of friends. Not once did the
flow of tea or hot bread cease. When we finished eating I wondered through
the little store with Chrissy looking for something to buy. I saw nothing
we needed however and finally simply paid the lunch tab. I waited while
Chrissy went to the bathroom then dropped a fifty on the counter as we
headed for the door.
The woman's voice stopped up halfway across the floor. "What's this?"
She was holding the crisp fifty in her hand.
"It's a tip."
Her plain face hardened briefly then she banged a key on the old
mechanical cash register. Bells jangled and the drawer popped open. She
tucked the fifty away then counted out some bills and waddled across the
floor and thrust them in my hand. "Five dollars is a tip. Fifty is
charity. We don't except the latter here." She turned and headed back for
her counter. "Y'all have a nice trip,"
We made our way back to the boat. As Chrissy skipped ahead of me I
counted out the bills in my hand. Forty-five dollars, exactly. We boarded
and the old man came out to handle the lines. He watched us slip away down
river, he was still staring after us when the pines closed in and hid him
from view. As I moved us back into mid channel I mused on the meaning of
family, obligation and pride.
Chrissy sunned herself most of the afternoon. Thankfully the sundeck
was behind me. Every time I turned around it seemed I got a different view
of that sexy little pre-teen body in that scandalous little bikini. When
that happened my dick would stay hard for the next fifteen minutes or so.
We had to have that talk soon.
She went below to start supper in mid-afternoon. She claimed to have
something special in mind. At first the smells wafting up the little
spiral stairs were pleasant enough but soon the distinct smell of burned
victuals began to drift upward. Several times I thought I actually saw
smoke. The sound of childish swearing reached my ears several times. I
steeled myself and kept my hands on the wheel.
Toward evening we rounded a bend to find a small community ahead. A
major highway crossed the river here. Gas station and restaurant signs
competed with the setting sun to illuminate the night. I slipped the boat
into a little artificial cove built to shelter a community boat ramp. I
nosed the boat up onto a grassy beach then took the anchor line and wrapped
it around a convenient tree, anchor and all. Unorthodox but we weren't
going anywhere.
I went below to find Chrissy resplendent in a green silk gown. I
vaguely remembered buying it for a piano recital she'd given. One that I'd
missed. She'd grown since and the once floor length gown was now above her
dainty ankles. It also hugged her little girl curves more than the
designer had ever intended. She'd done something with her hair. It was
now piled atop her head, leaving the smooth nape of her graceful neck bare.
A pair of tiny stud earrings and perhaps a touch of makeup completed the
effort. She looked stunning, a child princess.
Right now the makeup was in considerable danger. Chrissy's eyes were
moist and it was plain she was on the verge of breaking down completely.
One look at the table told why. It had been covered in a white linen cloth
and an effort made to lay out elegant place settings. Two taper candles
in
fake crystal holders completed the effect. It was the food that was the
problem. She had gotten ambitious and tried a haute cuisine dinner without
either the resources or skills. The results were disastrous. The chicken
was burned to a crisp as were the flat pre-mix biscuits. The other dishes
scattered about the table ranged for unpalatable to inedible. Determined
not to let my angel down even if it killed me I smiled and gallantly pulled
her chair out for her. Once she was seated I took my own place. We began
to load up our plates, each of us pretending the food was palatable. The
charade lasted till I tried to butter a biscuit. The cheap plastic knife
I
was using in an attempt to pry the rock hard critter open bent and refused
to penetrate. I pressed harder. The knife snapped in two, the upper part
flicking up and zinging off the overhead before landing in a tureen of
noxious gravy with a loud 'ploop'. We both goggled, I desperately tried
to
keep from laughing for Chrissy's sake. Luckily she didn't have that much
control. She seemed to teeter for a second between tears and snickers
before tilting toward the latter. One tiny snort opened the floodgates and
in seconds we were both laughing our fool heads off. I stood and pulled
Chrissy to her feet. We embraced as I nuzzled her soft blonde hair. "You
know baby I saw a set of golden arches when we were tying up." As I spoke
my hand my hand slid down the warm length of her supple back and down onto
the curve of her little rump. Fuck! She wasn't wearing anything beneath
that thin silk gown. There went my cock again! I nuzzled my daughters
hair and kissed her slender neck. "You know baby, you're supposed to wear
panties under that dress." I kept my tone nonchalant. Chrissy wiggled out
of my embrace and grinned up at me. "I didn't want the lines to show." She
looked at the table then back at me. "Let's chuck this mess and go get
some burgers dad." Giggling like two school children, we dumped the
unappetizing meal off the stern. Arm and arm we headed for the burger
joint that glowed in the distance. A comment from Chrissy about 'a
mysterious fish kill' delivered in her best 9 year old newscaster voice
left us both in stitches most of the way.
We got a couple of heat lamp cured heart attacks with fries and gonzo
sized shakes then took a corner table. We were both hungry and talked
little as we wolfed down our food. Damn, it might have been as healthful
as directing traffic at a demolition derby but it was good.
As I ate I gradually became aware of the stares we were getting from the
dozen or so other patrons. Actually I should say the looks Chrissy was
getting. In her silk gown with her coifed hair she was the belle of the
ball. Several matronly women beamed at her. Two plump teenage girls
stared daggers at her. Three teenaged boys who the plump girls were
probably trying to attract nearly drooled at her. I took it all in and
couldn't decide whether to be proud or concerned. Chrissy was oblivious
to
it. Once or twice she grinned up at me with 'special sauce' oozing down
her chin but the sensation she was creating passed by her unnoticed.
Sated, we headed back to the boat. There was a little park just above
the boat ramps with picnic tables, a big pavilion and a playground.
Laughing and giggling, we played tag around the latter before settling on
a
big glider style swing. Time for that talk I thought but Chrissy beat me
to it.
Dreamily, she rested her head on my shoulder. One finger idly traced
patterns on the back of my hand. "Can we talk daddy?"
"Sure baby."
"What was wrong with that man at the marina? He wasn't right was he?"
That took me by surprise. "No baby, he wasn't. He had a disease, a bad
disease."
She looked up at me, her eyes dark spots in the white of her face.
"Will he get better?"
"No honey, he won't get better."
For the next twenty minutes I told Chrissy of the horrors of
Alzheimer's, how it made a stranger out of a loved one and left him
isolated and cut off from those around him. I didn't set out to tell a
horror story but I didn't varnish over the facts either. When I finished
Chrissy shivered and held me tighter. She stared into the night for a
moment then tacked like a sailboat in a stiff breeze.
"That boy yesterday. He was playing with himself wasn't he?"
"Yes honey, he was masturbating."
"And he was looking at me while he did it?"
I tried to inject some levity into the moment, "Well you never know
these days. He might have been looking at me."
Chrissy rolled her eyes, "Daddeeee! I'm serious."
I reached down and stroked her hair. "Yes baby, he was looking at you."
She looked up at me again. "Why?"
My mind stuttered like a Pinto with two fouled plugs. "Ugh, well baby
it's like this. He was a boy and you are a girl. Boys are attracted to
girls-"
"Daddeee! I know that but I'm not -attractive that way." She dropped
her head back to my shoulder.
"Baby, you're pretty and cute. Young boys find pretty and cute young
girls sexy. Especially when those pretty and cute girls aren't wearing
much. You know, like that bathing suit you conned me into buying."
Her head snapped up, I could see the stars glinting in her eyes. "He
though I was sexy?"
Stutter, stutter, stutter, "Ugh, I'm sure he did babe."
She bit her lip then blurted out, "Do you think I'm sexy daddy?"
Oh shit! I took a deep breath. "Baby, fathers are not supposed to
think their daughters are sexy." Good answer. I patted myself on the back.
Chrissy looked me square in the eye? "Daddy, you didn't answer the
question."
Fuck, so much for the flanking retreat. I had never lied to Chrissy.
I
can still remember the day a tear stained four year old had asked if what
an older child had tauntingly told her was true, that there was no Santa
Clause. It had broken my heart but I had set her down and gently told her
that her beloved Santa was a myth, a chimera for children. She'd cried for
most of a day.
I stared into her determined little face for a moment. "Yes, baby I
think you're sexy."
She blushed prettily then stared down at the ground. "Is that why
you're thi--, you're p-penis was stiff when we went skinny dipping?"
This was not going according to plan. "Baby, a man sometimes can't
control what parts of his body does, especially that part." Damned true,
and the source of much much grief for the male of the species. "Someday,
when you are a woman you will meet a man and he will love you like a man
loves a woman, like I loved your mother. That's one kind of love a father
cannot have for his daughter. The problem is my di--, my penis doesn't
know that." I reached down and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from
her forehead. "Penis's are stupid. They only see a pretty, healthy, sexy
girl and they react. That's why its important for pretty little girls to
not run around naked in front of their fathers." I leaned down and kissed
her forehead, "Or get in bed naked with them."
She nodded and seemed to accept that. We stood and headed back to the
boat arm in arm.
I was rather proud of my performance despite the rocky start. We
watched another mushy movie then demolished several cups of hot chocolate.
When we finally slipped into the boat's big bed I was much relieved to find
my darling daughter demurely clad in a long nightgown. As I was drifting
off to sleep I tried to deny the fact that part of me was disappointed.
I
succeeded, mostly.
We ran into more wilderness the next day. A few more fish camps,
several bridges, then the forest closed in on both sides. Chrissy jumped
with joy when we puttered around a bend at midday and surprised several
deer drinking from the shore.
We motored on through the day, lunching on sandwiches as we went. In
the afternoon I turned the helm over to Chrissy and again tried my luck off
the stern. I wasn't immediately rewarded but perseverance paid off and by
the time the sun was dipping behind the thick trees on the western bank I
had a dozen decent keepers.
There was no real beach here so we moored to a fallen tree that thrust
out toward mid-river. The un-submerged part made a decent foot path to
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