WYNTER KING 3:
MOTHER'S LITTLE HELPER
by Russell Hoisington
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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.
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This is a continuation of WYNTER KING 2: DADDY'S LITTLE
STUDENT, which in turn is a continuation of WYNTER KING: DADDY'S
LITTLE NURSE. The original stories are archived in my ASSTR web
site. They are also stored in text (.txt) format, both as complete
stories and as smaller, multiple files at my FTP site. The addresses
are:
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Hoisington/www (html format)
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Hoisington (text format)
https://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Hoisington (text format)
If you have read those, you can skip the following background.
Background: Wynter 1
Accident-prone Richard King's pretty blonde daughter, Wynter,
age eleven, wants to be a nurse. Shortly after he was immobilized
(again), Richard, talked his way out of the hospital early. Shortly
thereafter, his wife, Angie, was sent to Europe for three weeks. An
avalanche closed the mountain road to their isolated home and trapped
his resident nurse in town. Wynter was forced to become her father's
nurse. With his lower right leg and both arms and hands in casts,
Richard is totally dependent upon her. But Richard has another
problem.
An earlier accident left Richard with a vasectomy and damage to
the vas deferens that causes pain if his semen builds up for more
than a few days. Wynter can't stand to see anyone in pain.
Puberty causes a struggle between the emerging young woman and
the naive little girl, a perfectionist who wants desperately to act
not like a child but like a grownup nurse for her patient/father. The
situation causes a struggle between the dutiful father and his aching
need for relief.
Wynter learned that handjobs would relieve his discomfort and
expanded her nursing duties. Richard discovered that Wynter herself
has been aching with horniness caused by the hormones changing her
body, but that she had no idea what to do for relief. Home schooled
and isolated much of the year, she had minimal contact with other
children throughout her life. After his last handjob from her she
was expecting him to talk her through the steps of getting herself
off. Richard, however, fell asleep. Wynter decided to teach
herself.
Discomfort caused Richard to awaken in time to partially
observe her first orgasm. She came down from her orgasmic high and
saw he was awake. When she expressed her disappointment that because
of the casts on his hands, he couldn't masturbate her the way she
could do him, Richard hesitantly brought up the topic of oral sex.
Background: Wynter 2
Wynter learned to French kiss. She decided that maybe oral sex
also wasn't as yucky as it sounded and agreed to try it. It felt
even better than masturbation! If oral sex felt better than
masturbation, then intercourse should feel even better than oral sex.
After a second session of sixty-nine she decided to find out and
began to lower herself onto his erection.
Richard stopped her and, at first, resisted the idea. He
finally agreed, but wanted to test whether she could stretch enough
to accommodate him. He had her fetch his wife's collection of
vibrators and slowly insert them in order of increasing size. Wynter
was thrilled to discover that her father would fit and rode him to
two orgasms, one while making love and one while sport fucking him.
With the road cleared the next afternoon, Nurse Ellen Carter
returned. Doctor Kevin Taylor followed her and examined Richard. He
removed the bandages from Richard's right fingers and two fingers on
the left hand. When Wynter, accompanied by Dragon, her ever-present
black Labrador retriever, escorted him to the door he cautioned her
not to let Richard overuse the fingers. He advised her to consider
medical school as well as nursing school and then left.
---
The low voices from her father's sick room sounded angry as she
approached the door. The fur between Dragon's shoulders suddenly
bristled at the tone. Nurse Carter had her back to the door as
Wynter entered the room. Her father was lying back and looking at
the ceiling.
"Daddy? Nurse Carter? Is something wrong?"
"Something is VERY wrong, Wynter," Nurse Carter said, slowly
turning to face her. "Your father can't seem to explain THESE." She
held out her hands. One hand held the smallest vibrator. Pinched
between the thumb and forefinger of the other hand were three short,
thin, cornsilk curls.
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One of Eight
Panic swept across Wynter's elfin features. "Where... where...
where...?" she stammered as she flushed scarlet in embarrassment.
Nurse Ellen Carter held the smallest vibrator forward. "I saw
the tip of this sticking out between the nightstand and the wall. It
wasn't there when I left because I had cleaned this room thoroughly,
and there were no dildos in here when I finished."
<Dildos.> Wynter added that to the list of words to put in her
notebook of "Sex Terminology" while she tried to remember how the
vibrator could have become stuck behind the nightstand. She had
moved them from the rollaway table to the nightstand. Later she was
picking them up to return them to her mother's dresser drawer.
Dragon, who'd just had a drink from his doggie bowl, had stuck his
cold, wet nose to her naked butt. She had jumped and dropped them.
She had thought the noise would awaken her sleeping father, but he
was more unconscious than asleep. <Drat!> She had been chastising--a
grown-up sounding word that she really liked--Dragon while she
picked up the vibrators again and had failed to PAY ATTENTION TO THE
DETAILS like a good nurse would do.
Nurse Carter pulled back the vibrator and pushed forward the
blonde pubic hair. "I found two of these under your father's neck
and one under his leg. I see you got around while I was gone."
Wynter's father looked blurry through her streaming tears. His
upper body was lying at a forty-five degree angle. His eyes were
fixed on the ceiling and he looked very, very upset. She knew he was
mad at himself because she had wanted to change his sheets before
Nurse Carter returned, but he had asked her not to. He was blaming
himself for something that was all HER fault. A good nurse would
have done what was BEST for her patient, not what he had wanted
because it was less work for her.
Her father had wanted the oral sex, and the intercourse, too.
She loved him, and she wanted to show him through the oral sex and
intercourse that she loved him. And she had also wanted the sexual
activities. But it wasn't what was BEST FOR HER PATIENT, or for her
father, IN THE LONG RUN. A good nurse and a grownup would have done
what was best for the patient in the long run, but she had acted like
a spoiled, thoughtless child interested only in what was best for
herself at the time.
Nurse Carter's voice rose and got much angrier and her face
turned very red as she shook the hair in Wynter's face. "Jesus, I
thought he was in the good hands of a responsible nurse, not the
hands of a little slut!"
Wynter felt the Labrador retriever's body pressing against the
front of her legs. It vibrated with his growl, a deep, rumbling
noise that caused Nurse Carter to step back and almost fall onto the
bed.
"Ellen," her father said in a quiet voice that still sounded
very angry, "if your attitude doesn't change immediately, Dragon will
eat your face, and even Wynter won't be able to stop him." Then his
voice softened and his eyes looked at Wynter with love that made her
heart ache for the trouble she had stupidly caused him. "Wynter,
honey, take Dragon into the den. Please close the door on your way
out. Everything will be okay, I promise. I'm going to have a little
chat with Nurse Carter, and she won't want to be disturbed until it's
over. Please?"
She nodded and wiped her flooded eyes with the back of her
right hand while her left closed around Dragon's collar.
"I love you, honey...."
Nurse Carter glared down at him over her shoulder and cut him
off. "Is THAT how you talked her into your perverted...."
"ELLEN!" he shouted, startling her into silence. Dragon began
growling again, louder this time, and Wynter felt him pull forward a
little. Then in a soft, almost gentle voice her father said, "Wynter
release his collar."
She did. Dragon didn't move and continued his low, rumbling
growl. Through her tears Wynter saw the blurred white streak of his
teeth.
Richard fixed the nurse with a hard stare. "Now, Ellen, I
don't know with absolute certainly that he WILL attack if you raise
your voice at me again, but do you know with absolute certainly that
he WON'T? You know as well as I do that he will attack if you raise
it at Wynter again."
Nurse Carter seemed to collapse inward, like a party balloon
that was losing air.
"Honey, everything's going to be just fine. Nurse Carter
doesn't want you to hear what I'm about to tell her, so please go
wait in the den with Dragon. She'll be along to apologize to you in
a little while. You can have some cookies and milk if you want them.
Not too many this close to supper."
She nodded and tried to say, "I love you," but her voice broke.
Her father gave her that big warm smile that made her heart
feel much too big for her body. "I love you, too, honey. We won't
be long."
She nodded again, wiped her eyes, and took Dragon's collar.
Any other time he would have followed her out the door, but she
wasn't sure whether he would do so now. He went out the door with
her, but his eyes never left Nurse Carter and his low growl did not
stop until Wynter closed the door.
Wynter held her long blonde ponytail in one hand and threw
herself face down on the couch in the den, trying to control the huge
sobs that wracked her body. How could she have been so childish and
caused such a huge problem for her father, who loved her with all his
heart, when all she wanted for him was to be the best grownup nurse
possible? How could he still love her if she were such a huge
disappointment? And how much more trouble would she cause him when
Nurse Carter told Mother?
Dragon whimpered and sniffed her, looking for clues that would
explain her condition in terms his canine mind could understand.
When he found none, he licked the hand covering her cheek, looked
over his shoulder to the hallway door, and growled softly.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Two of Eight
"Just what the fuck do you mean telling her that I'll 'be along
to apologize in a few minutes?' I'm not the one...."
"Ellen," Richard said in a gentle tone, "Dragon can hear you
from the den, and I can guarantee you that door won't stop him if he
wants in." Actually, only the first half of that statement was true.
He couldn't GUARANTEE that the hollow-core door wouldn't stop Dragon,
but he would not bet money that it could. " Wynter could hear you if
she weren't crying her eyes out, probably face down on the couch.
You know how emotionally shaky she is because of puberty. Your
attitude isn't helping one goddamned bit, and I won't allow it to
upset her any further."
"YOU...." She glanced at the closed door and forced her volume
control down, but in her fury construed his gentle tone as meekness.
"YOU won't allow it? I won't allow YOU to abuse that girl any
further, you child-molesting son of a bitch! I ought to call Larry
White to come put you under house arrest and get Wynter to safety
until I can get Angie back here. What the FUCK were you thinking,
using her to get you off? If the pain in your damaged vas deferens
was that bad, you should have told me and I'D have gotten you off."
His grin, as if of triumph, took her aback, and she wondered if
he had divined her innermost thoughts.
"Do you know who recommended you to be my nurse during these
at-home recuperations?"
"Yeah," she snapped. "Kevin Taylor. What...."
"No," he said, shaking his head. "Kevin merely said you'd be a
good choice when I asked him about you."
"What does that...."
"Tommy Rosenbaum recommended you."
"Who?" Then she gaped. "You know Tom Rosenbaum from
Pittsburgh?"
"We were on the same committee for the Geological Society
several years back. I'd been to his house a few times before the
divorce, and once or twice after. But I didn't say 'Tom,' I said,
'Tommy.'"
The color left Ellen's face and her arms fell to her sides.
The strands of Wynter's pubic hair drifted to the floor.
"T...--Tommy? Oh, Jesus."
"Tommy. Doctor Rosenbaum. He was--what? Sixteen? Fifteen
the first time? The father AND the son for over two years?"
"Tommy TOLD you? And.... Oh, Jesus. And Tom told you about
us?"
"You look like you'd better sit down," he said and waited for
her to do so after she put the small vibrator on the night stand.
"No, Tom didn't tell me the details of his divorce other than he'd
been caught with another woman. Tommy finally told me who when he
recommended you for my home nurse. He said that his father couldn't
have been in better hands, but that I should watch out because you
had dependency issues. He said that it cost you your own marriage as
well, and that you'd tried to convince Tom to marry you. He said you
left Pittsburgh as the price to keep Tom from filing a professional
complaint and charges against you.
"Tommy knew about my injury and said that if I ever needed you
to relieve the pressure, that you wouldn't be satisfied with
providing just a handjob, and that things would slowly spiral out of
control. He apparently did a couple of papers on you while earning
his psychology degree. He also said you were the 'greatest piece of
ass' he'd ever had, although that was a personal opinion rather than
a professional one."
Ellen Carter's pasty-white face slowly reddened, this time with
embarrassment.
"I never planned to tell you I knew, but, Ellen, two things I
can't stand are hypocrites and somebody threatening my family, and a
threat to my marriage is a threat to my family. Naturally I haven't
told anyone else. In a small town, a secret like that won't stay
secret for a year, and it would be a lot harder for you to hide the
facts if you were forced to leave here than it was when you were
forced to leave Pittsburgh."
She twisted her hands together in her lap. "So, if I promise
to keep my mouth shut and just leave quietly, you won't tell anyone
about my past? You'll trade your silence for mine?"
"No."
She stiffened, and Richard was struck by the similarity between
her face and Wynter's during one of his daughter's panic attacks.
"I don't want you to leave. You've overcome your past, and
you've established a good practice here, both as a private nurse and
at the hospital. People admire you, respect you, and depend on you.
And I hear that Dusty Hughes has taken a fancy to you. I have only a
few conditions besides the trading of silence. Are you interested?"
She sighed as if the weight of the world had been lowered onto
her shoulders. "Do I have a choice?"
"You always have choices, Ellen. However, you have only one
good one."
-----
"Wynter?"
Dragon was standing and facing the door when Ellen entered the
room. She had stopped just inside the door, waiting to see what the
dog would do. He wasn't snarling or growling, but his muscles were
tensed and his eyes were fixed on hers. It was a challenge, and she
responded by lowering her eyes from his.
"Wynter?" she asked again. "Don't cry. I--I came to
apologize."
Wynter sniffed and lifted her face from the couch cushion long
enough to sob, "You aren't the one who was bad."
"Yes, I was. Wynter, you made a mistake, but so did I, a long
time ago. I am still mad at myself about that, and I took it out on
you. That was another mistake I made. Richard reminded me that we
can overcome our mistakes and continue to be good people. Wynter, I
said some mean things to you and your father, things that I, of all
people, had no right to say. I am truly sorry that I said them, and
I hope that you can forgive me. If you can't, then I understand, and
I won't blame you. But I do hope that some day you will be able to,
and that we can be friends again."
Her head came up again. "I..." [sniff] "I can forgive you.
I'm not..." [sniff]"...a hypocrite."
Tears suddenly streamed down both of Ellen's cheeks. "Thank
God for that. One of us is already too many."
Wynter suddenly bolted upright, startling Dragon. "Daddy!
He's all by himself," she said, brushing away tears and wiping her
running nose.
"He'll be okay for a little while," Ellen said. "Can we sit
together and talk?"
"But Daddy might need us."
"Right now he needs us to be friends again more than he needs
anything else." She began easing toward the couch, avoiding any
sudden movements and watching for any sign of displeasure from
Dragon. "He explained a couple of your questions to me and said he'd
like me to help answer them for you, if you don't mind."
-----
Dragon watched for any threatening sign as the tall human
female sat beside his short one. They held each other and made sad
noises. He didn't understand why they did this, but he did sense
that no threat to his human remained. Dragon watched and listened,
trying to comprehend, unaware that the expression on his face was
very similar to that shown by his human male when he, too, was trying
to comprehend females.
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Three of Eight
Richard shook his head. "You two are a mess."
Ellen and Wynter looked at each other's red eyes and
tear-stained clothing. "I guess we are," Ellen admitted. A lot of
tears and mucus had flowed for almost two hours. "Would you like for
us to call in the other nurse?"
"WHAT other nurse?"
She looked down as Dragon brushed past her legs. "Here he is."
Richard laughed. "I don't think he can hold the urinal
steady."
Mother Hen worry appeared on Wynter's face and she sprang into
action, retrieving the container from its storage place under the
foot of the bed. Then she hesitated and offered it to Ellen, who
shook her head.
"You can handle it," she said. Richard laughed again, and she
realized what she had just said. She rolled her eyes. "Jesus. I
mean, it's your job. You do it for him." This time both Richard and
Wynter laughed. "Oh, to hell with it! I'm going to clean up." She
turned and headed down the hall to her room.
Wynter looked at him with twin blue-green pools in a sea of red
beneath a brow furrowed in concern. "Do I have time to raise the bed
the rest of the way?"
"No," he said, shaking his head, "but I do have time for a
quick kiss." He hummed contentedly as she gave him a kiss on the end
of his nose and a quick daughter-like kiss on the lips. "That's
better," he sighed as she pulled down the sheet and raised his
hospital gown. "So do you and Ellen have things worked out now?"
"I guess," she said as she began working the flat pillow under
his buttocks. "She said she was sorry and, Daddy, I think she really
meant it."
"She did, honey. She was surprised and reacted before she had
time to sit down and think. I gave her time to do that."
Wynter paused to glance at his face before resuming her task.
"I think you did more than just let her sit and think."
Richard grinned. She was burning with curiosity. Obviously
Ellen hadn't told her everything, but she wasn't about to pry. She
was giving him the opportunity to volunteer information. It was one
of the devices her mother used. "Well, sometimes people need a
gentle nudge in the right direction when they aren't sure what they
should think about. And speaking of gentle, that was the first time
my leg didn't hurt when you put the pillow under me."
She broke into a wide, happy grin that warmed his heart.
"Maybe you're finally healing."
"Or maybe you're getting to be an even better nurse."
The smile faded, and she ducked her head before threading the
head of his dick into the urinal. He saw a faint tinge of red spread
across her face, one that he wouldn't have noticed if he hadn't been
watching for it. She had regressed back into the little girl who
didn't know how to handle a compliment. So much progress these past
two days and now a setback. He'd spent enough time in hospitals and
home sick beds to know that setbacks were temporary. Still, it
almost broke his heart to see his daughter slipping back into the
little girl who, just one day earlier, he had wanted her to remain.
Ellen's next task would be to explain to Wynter how a lady accepts a
compliment from a gentleman. He wasn't going to wait until Angie
returned to begin teaching Wynter how to interact with other people,
one of many things she'd know by now if he and Angie hadn't insisted
on this isolated lifestyle without giving thought to their daughter's
needs.
"Finished?"
Her question brought him back to the real world. "What,
honey?"
"I asked if you were finished. You stopped almost a minute
ago."
<A minute?> Yes, the pressure in his bladder was gone. "I'm
sorry, honey. Yes, I'm done. I guess my mind went on a trip and
left my body behind."
She stripped the remaining piss from the Beast in two pulls
that would have it hardening if it weren't exhausted from the number
of times she'd brought him to orgasm the past two days. "Did it go
visit a nice place?"
"I'm, not sure where it went." He glanced at the snow melting
in the spring sunshine outside the window. "Maybe it went looking
for some spring flowers because it was tired of all the snow."
She gave him an odd look and frowned for an instant. "What
kind of flowers?
"Probably columbines," he said, watching her grin spread when
he mentioned her favorite blossom. "Maybe some other flowers, too,
like in that glade down by the pond."
"Maybe you'll see some soon," she said. "I'll go empty this
and be right back for the pillow."
"Would Nurse King do her patient a favor when she returns?"
"Sure. What?"
Richard wiggled his newly-freed fingers. "Could you bring back
a washcloth and some soap? My fingers feel like they've been in a
mine sump for a month."
"Sure!"
Richard smiled as she hurried as fast as she dared into the
bathroom. Nothing like a little occupational therapy, especially
when it benefitted the patient as well as the nurse. He
wanted--needed--to talk to her about their relationship and the guilt
he knew she had placed on herself, but she wasn't emotionally ready.
Plenty of time for that after she had slept on it. One thing he had
learned after hours, days, weeks at a time in hospital beds was
patience, even if he didn't like it.
-----
Richard pressed the channel selector again and found himself
back where he'd started. "Damn," he muttered, then selected a news
program for background noise.
Wynter had placed the remote control on top of three large,
thick books and adjusted the suspension of his right cast until he
could reach the channel, volume, and on/off switches. She then
cornered Ellen in the hall, spoke with her in whispers for a moment,
and then disappeared into her room to clean up. She hadn't emerged
or even opened the door after the shower stopped. Now Ellen was in
the kitchen preparing supper.
For the first time, Richard felt lonely in his room. He didn't
realize how much he'd grown accustomed to Wynter's constant presence.
He didn't mind solitude. He occasionally welcomed it. The unceasing
presence of someone else, even his wife, occasionally wore on his
nerves, but that wasn't the case with Wynter. Her invariable
worrying every time he hiccuped or sneezed might become a minor
irritation, but not her presence. Even a visit from Dragon would be
welcome, but the black Lab would never leave the room with Wynter in
it unless he had to. Richard sighed and tried to become interested
in the latest Middle East flare-up.
"Richard, do you need anything before we eat?"
He hadn't heard Ellen's approach. Maybe he'd dozed off. "No,
I'm fine."
She nodded and knocked on Wynter's door. There was a pause
before Wynter invited her in. Richard wondered if his daughter had
been practicing "solitary sexual techniques," or some similar
adult-sounding term. He found himself wishing he could have been
there to watch.
"I'm almost finished," Wynter said. Ellen's body blocked his
view of her desk, but he suspected there was nothing to see on it.
"Ten more minutes?"
"Okay." When Ellen turned to leave, Wynter smiled at him from
her doorway. "I love you, Daddy."
That cheered him up. "I love you too, honey."
Her door closed. Five minutes later it opened. She flashed
him a bright smile, all coral lips and teeth as sparkling white as
her pullover blouse, low-rise socks and tennis shoes. She blew him a
kiss before disappearing toward the main part of the house with her
four-legged shadow in tow. When she reappeared she was carrying one
of his metal rulers, a razor knife, and something else in the pocket
of her pink jersey shorts. She blew him another kiss before closing
the door.
Most un-Wynter-like. She was obviously up to something, but
what? He amused himself by trying to guess.
-----
Wynter was smoothing down the last piece of tape when Nurse
Carter knocked on the door again. "Wynter, it's time to eat."
"I just finished. I'll be right there."
She heard Nurse Carter say something to her father, but didn't
hear his reply. She stood back and looked at her work. "I dunno,
Dragon. What do you think?" she asked picking it up and showing it
to him. He sniffed it and looked up with his head cocked to one side
and his ears alert. She called it his "curious pose".
"I supposed it will have to do," she said, holding her blonde
ponytail with her left hand at shoulder level and pinching her lower
lip with her right, "but I wish I could have done better for Daddy.
Maybe if I wrap it, he might like it better. What do you think?" He
perked his ears, and she assumed that meant, "Yes."
Nurse Carter was placing the tray on the rollaway table when
Wynter opened the door. "If you and Wynter don't mind, I'd like to
bring mine in here and eat with you tonight."
Both Wynter and her father said they'd love to have her join
them. Nurse Carter was about to return to the kitchen when she saw
the flat, wrapped packet in Wynter's hand. "Do I get to stay for the
unveiling, or would you rather be alone with your father?" she asked
with a smile.
"You can stay. If it's okay with Daddy, I mean." When her
father agreed, Wynter handed the flat package, wrapped in silvery
foil paper and sporting a big yellow bow, to Nurse Carter. "You can
unwrap it for him," she said.
Nurse Carter held the present where he could see the bow and
the wrapping paper. Wynter always kept a roll or two of wrapping
paper and some bows in her room for presents that she gave to her
parents and sometimes to special visitors like Doctor Taylor. She
had placed her father's present face-down against a piece of
cardboard to protect it. Nurse Carter held the present so that her
father could see it first and slid the cardboard away at his nod.
She watched her father for his reaction, her fingers crossed
and a worried frown on her face. He stared at it for a moment and
tears began collecting in his eyes. "Oh, my god," he whispered so
softly she almost didn't hear it, and then he shook his head.
<Drat!> She just KNEW it wasn't good enough and that he
wouldn't like it, and she was right! She should have taken more time
with it, but she wanted to give it to him right away. And now,
instead of making him happy, she had made him sad. She had been a
CHILD again.
-----
Richard understood the gesture. Allowing Ellen Carter to
unwrap his present for him was Wynter's way of saying that all was
right between the two of them. He admired the way the present was
wrapped. His very best efforts rarely equaled Little Miss
Perfection's worst efforts, which were usually when she was wrapping
something for Aunt Diane, who was Angie's older sister, or Diana's
husband, Uncle Bob.
Ellen held the piece of cardboard before him and asked,
"Ready?"
"Go," he said, and she slid the cardboard away.
Wynter had used woodgrain-patterned posterboard to make a frame
around an eight-by-ten, intricately detailed, colored-pencil drawing
of the pond, looking down from the northside hill. The field of
wildflowers lay to the west, but in the foreground she'd added a
patch of columbines. The scene was breathtaking. Angie had
accidentally seen a sketch of Dragon in front of a waterfall in a
notebook that Wynter had left open, and she had told Richard that
Wynter had shown talent, but he had no idea that his daughter was
THIS talented. He felt tears puddle on his lower eyelids.
"Oh, my god," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief and
continuing to study the detail. He tried to look at Ellen but
couldn't. "Ellen, this is incredible."
Ellen Carter turned the picture slightly and leaned sideways to
look. "Jesus!" she whispered in a voice as awe-struck as his own
must have sounded.
"Honey, how long have you been working on this?"
"I started after I got out of the shower. I'm sorry it's not
any better."
The tremble in her voice caused him to drag his eyes away from
the drawing for the first time. "Sorry for what? You did all of
this, in this much detail, in just a couple of hours?"
She sniffed. "I can do it over. I'll take my time 'n' do it
better for you. I was in a big hurry to give you some flowers to
look at, 'n' didn't have time to do a really good drawing."
"Didn't...." He glanced up at the nurse, who hadn't moved.
"Give us some room, please?"
Ellen straightened and moved aside without shifting her eyes.
"Jesus!" she whispered again.
"Kiss?"
Head down, Wynter moved beside him and gave him a quick kiss on
the lips.
"Honey, if you tell me you can do a better version of that
drawing, then I believe you, but I really, honestly, truly don't see
HOW you could improve it."
She sniffed again and kept her eyes down. "I could put more
detail in the background trees 'n' the mountains 'n stuff, 'n' the
water in the pond's not quite right." Before he could interrupt her
she added, "'n' I could put Mother in the picture for you."
"Jesus!"
Richard gaped at his daughter. "You can draw people, too?"
"Uh huh," she said in a small voice. "They take longer to make
them look right, though. They're harder than Dragon."
"Jesus!"
"Ellen, you sound like a revival meeting."
Ellen Carter looked at him for a second and then focused on
Wynter. "Did you overlap the frame pieces before you cut the miters
for the corners?"
Wynter turned to face Ellen, her thin blonde brows pulling
together. "You can do that?"
Ellen shook her head. "Yeah, I thought so. Here. Look at
these," she said, turning the picture toward Richard and pointing at
the corners. "Freehand! Wynter, I know only two surgeons who can
make cuts that precise. You make the rest of them look like amateur
butchers."
Wynter flushed a bright red, lowered her head, and stared at
the floor.
Ellen glanced at Richard, who mouthed, "We need to talk about
that," and indicated Wynter with his head. She nodded.
"Let's put it where I can see it. We'll figure out where while
we eat. And thank you very much for my flowers and for loving me
enough to draw them for me."
Her head came up and she gave him an almost pleading look.
"You really like them?"
"Honey, they are the fourth most beautiful thing I've ever
seen. Honest." He frowned, twisted and looked down at Dragon,
looked at the picture, and looked back to his daughter. "Maybe
third."
She exhaled pent-up breath, then giggled and threw her arms
around his neck, strangling him with a huge hug. Then she pulled
back enough to give him a big kiss. He felt the tip of her sweet
tongue on his lips and gently, briefly, caressed it with his own.
When she pulled back her face glowed with delight. "Oh, Daddy, I was
SO afraid you wouldn't like it because of the mistakes."
Richard heard Ellen stifle a laugh, but ignored her. "Honey,
maybe YOU can see mistakes in it, but I can't. I can't draw good
enough. How long have you been able to draw like that?"
She shrugged. "I dunno. Four or five years, I guess."
"And in all this time you never let Mother or me know?"
She shrugged again and looked down at her left hand resting,
from habit, on his arm cast. She slid her hand down to grasp the two
exposed fingers. "I didn't want to show you until I was good
enough," she said in a low voice. "You wanted to see some flowers to
make you feel better, so I thought maybe I could help, but I wasn't
sure they'd be good enough for you. But, it was what you said you
wanted, so I took a chance."
"Jesus," Ellen murmured again as she examined another area of
the drawing.
Richard threw her a quick glance. "Amen."
-----
Ellen Carter sat in one of the padded chairs reading a book.
Richard half-watched a science program and half-watched Wynter. She
had scooted down in the overstuffed chair adjacent to the door. Her
feet rested on the front edge of the seat cushion, and her left hand
pinned a drawing pad to the easel formed by her long, slender legs.
Her face was screwed into a mask of concentration that occasionally
flickered an eyebrow or mouth corner or eyelid as her hand guided a
number two pencil across the paper. Sprawled across the floor at her
feet, Dragon began twitching his paws as he chased a rabbit or
perhaps a squirrel. Or perhaps he raced across the fields with his
little blonde human. The flower drawing was on the wall over her
head, on the wall opposite the window so that he didn't have to see
the snow while he was looking at the springtime meadow.
Ellen lowered the book and looked at her watch. "It's bedtime,
young nurse."
"Three and a half more minutes," Wynter mumbled. Ellen raised
her eyebrows at Richard and looked at her watch again.
Three minutes and twenty seconds later Wynter lowered the
pencil, relaxed, and sighed. "It's probably not very good 'cause I
did it from memory."
She couldn't get out of the chair without awakening Dragon,
which was the reason the dog had chosen that spot. She poked his
ribs with a toe and he jumped to his feet. While he shook everything
back into place, Wynter rose and showed Richard the drawing of her
mother.
Richard blinked in surprise. "Honey, that's incredible. Show
Ellen."
"Jesus! You know, Wynter, if you can't make any money as a
nurse, you could always moonlight as a police sketch artist or a bank
note forger. She looks like she should speak to me."
"Well," Wynter said, pointing to a spot, "right here I...."
Ellen gently pushed the girl's slender arm down. "Wynter,
maybe YOU see mistakes, but you don't have to point them out to
everyone. Let other people enjoy what you've done. I look at that,
and I feel as if your mom is right here in the room with me. It
helps me forget that she's half of two continents and a whole ocean
away, and I'm sure it helps your father forget that, too."
"Yes, it does," he agreed, switching off the television.
"But when you point out your mistakes, it keeps people from
enjoying the feelings you inspired. You put a LOT of effort into
creating something people can enjoy. Let us do so, please? And when
you point out mistakes that only a museum art critic might notice,
you make those of us with no talent, and whose mistakes would
probably include putting both eyes on the same side of her nose, even
more jealous of your talent."
Ellen smiled to take the sting out of her words. "Perfection
as a goal is admirable, but it's a goal you can't achieve. Not
consistently, anyway. And certainly not in the medical field, where
you will have far too many problems, far too few resources, and far
too little time. And even with something like this," she indicated
the drawing with a sweep of her hand, "you do the best you can in the
time allocated. Don't be concerned with the fact that it wasn't
perfect; be concerned that it's better than what you did before
within the same amount of time. Understand?"
Wynter was looking at her bare feet. "I guess so," she
mumbled.
"You'll find that out when you become a mother, and you'll
realize you've...." Her mouth worked without sound for a moment, and
then she sighed. "Well, it's not so much that you did your parents
an injustice as it is that you didn't do them a favor."
Mother Hen worry settled on her face as her eyes rose to meet
the older nurse's. "I don't understand."
"Well, your job as a parent is to raise your child to be an
adult. The measures of progress are the development of your child's
new skills, her first time to roll over, her first time to sit up,
her first steps for instance, and how her skills improve--first time
to take two steps without falling, then three steps, then four and so
on. But when you go from having a child who, as far as you know, has
no drawing talent to having one who is Leonardette da Vinci in one
afternoon, you realize you've missed out on watching her improve and
in sharing the joy of her successes with her." She shrugged. "I
guess you could say it's rather selfish."
Out of the corner of her eye she saw Richard wince. She
understood as much as he did the impact that would have on Wynter,
but it needed to be explained to her in those terms, and neither of
her parents could, or would, do so. As an "outsider," she could
phrase the situation in the necessary terms. His silent nod of
thanks assured her that he understood.
"Now: recuperating patients, growing girls, and old women need
their rest." She looked at Dragon. "And he looks like eighteen
hours of sleep weren't enough." She hugged Wynter, stood, and said,
"I'll be in my room if you need me, but I won't be the least bit
surprised if you don't, Nurse King. You give him his bedtime
medications. Good night, Richard."
She pulled the door shut on her way out.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Four of Eight
Richard heard Ellen moving about. He glanced at the clock.
She was an early riser and must have been up for at least an hour.
She was also overdue with his morning pills by about fifteen minutes.
She wouldn't wait much longer. He suspected that was the reason he
had heard her.
He nuzzled his chin across the top of the blonde head lying on
his chest. After the anticipated and drawn-out apologies for being
selfish and not sharing her talent with him, she had asked if she
could sleep in his room. It was his little girl who had asked, and
there was no "sexual activity" as she would call it. She had offered
to bring in her sleeping bag, but he knew she needed the physical
contact. They had both needed it, and he again became her mattress.
He rubbed her head with his chin again. "Morning, honey."
She seemed to take a moment to realize where she was, then
lifted her head and gave him a heartwarming, if still sleepy, smile.
"It's your fault," she said.
"What's my fault?"
She yawned. "I was having nice dreams because I felt safe and
loved. It's your fault."
"Good. How about a kiss?"
She frowned. "I have dragon breath."
"Then I'll keep my eyes open so I'll know it's you and not
him."
She gave him her ritual kisses, one on the end of his nose and
another on his lips. "Good thing I kept my eyes open, too," she said
with a grin.
Dragon shook himself awake, stood by the door, and whimpered.
Wynter gasped. "I forgot to let him out before bedtime!" She pushed
herself up and carefully crawled off the bed. For a moment Richard
had a flash down her neckline of two tiny pink cones atop soft white
swells, and he felt the Beast twitch.
"Go let him out first. He needs to go worse than I do. I'll
still be here when you return, I promise."
She made a face at him. "Smarty pants!"
He laughed and watched her follow Dragon out the door.
"Morning, Nurse Carter," echoed down the hallway.
"Good morning, Nurse King. Has the patient had his morning
meds yet?"
"Not yet. I gotta let Dragon out NOW."
Ellen was chuckling when she turned the corner into his room.
They exchanged greetings, and Ellen counted out his pills. Her voice
turned somber. "I caused her to regress, didn't I?"
Richard shrugged. "Maybe. But maybe having to BE an adult
pushed her too far forward too fast and she's just returning to
normal."
"You sound disappointed."
"I guess. But not because of the sex. It's because I was
finally coming to terms with the fact that my little girl won't be
that same little girl forever. Pain pill instead of the ibuprofen.
I was her bed last night and there's some increased pain in my arms."
Ellen gave him a curious smile. "Medically I should warn you
that that's not a good idea, but you've already discovered that for
yourself. And I doubt it would do any good."
"None whatsoever." He watched her write the medications in his
records. "Do you regret not having children?"
The question surprised her. Richard rarely asked personal
questions. She hesitated before finishing her notes. She put the
records down before answering. "I have many children. They just
have other parents is all."
He nodded. "I didn't mean to pry."
She poured his water. "It's okay because I'm going to. Do you
think you can keep this a secret from Angie?"
"No. I'll have to tell her, somehow."
"Will you tell her I know?"
"Not unless she specifically asks. I won't lie to her."
She started popping pills into his mouth. "But you'd cheat on
her with your own daughter," she said in a quiet voice.
He stared at her for a moment and nodded at the water. Ellen
held the straw for him and added, "I'm not being judgmental, Richard.
Really. I'm just trying to understand."
Richard swallowed and released the straw. "Do you understand
why you screwed both Tom and Tommy?"
"No. Oh, I've rationalized it a dozen different ways, but...."
She shook her head. "No. I guess I hoped your answer would answer
my own questions for me."
"We make a hell of a pair, don't we?"
"Huh! I'll get the urinal out for Wynter so you don't have to
wait."
"You're going to pass on the opportunity to handle it
yourself?" he asked in feigned shock.
She winked. "She's doing well enough that I think I can take a
night off and handle Dusty's."
"Must be terrible having to settle for second best."
She gave him a wry grin. "Well, I wouldn't know about that.
I've not had the--pleasure--to make the comparison."
They were still laughing at bad jokes and double entendres when
Wynter returned.
-----
Ellen paused at the door to give her substitute last minute
instructions, but Wynter had one more question.
"What are you and Dusty gonna do tonight?"
Ellen stared at the face grinning up at her. The previous
questions had come from an eleven-year-old girl. The voice tone and
facial expression for this one was from a thirty-year-old. She
wondered if Wynter had any idea of how she changed personalities.
"Oh, I dunno," she replied. "Probably the same thing you and
your dad are going to do. If that's any of your business. I was
TEASING," she added when she saw the stricken look. "Wynter, wait to
see if you really have offended someone before you start feeling
guilty. Boys aren't the only ones who play rough. If you're going
to survive medical school or nursing school, you have to learn to
play rough, too. Give them a reason to respect you, and they will.
Or give them a reason to and they'll run roughshod over you.
Wynter frowned. "Why? That doesn't sound very nice."
"We'll talk about that when I get back tomorrow. For now,
let's just say that people respect you if you can stand up for
yourself. If you show signs of weakness, then they think you might
not be deserving of respect. Medicine is a tough field. You have to
be tough to survive. Maybe they are just weeding out those who can't
make it before they can become a burden to others. Now: don't
forget what I said...."
As she tramped through the melting snow to where she'd left her
car, Ellen couldn't help but feel a little jealous of Wynter.
-----
Wynter looked down at her sleeping father. He looked so very
uncomfortable suspended that way, but some of his fingers were now
free. It wasn't much of an improvement, but any was a welcome one.
She held her blonde ponytail to her shoulder and bent to gently kiss
his forehead. Then she shooed Dragon ahead of her and retrieved a
notebook and pencil from her room. While she positioned herself in
the overstuffed chair by the door, Dragon again established a
blocking position at her feet and dozed off.
When she decided the drawing was to her satisfaction, she stuck
the pencil behind her right ear, snagging it in her drawn-back hair
to keep it in place. She guessed it was okay, though if she had
another couple of days, it could be a whole lot better. She used the
back of her right hand to cover a yawn while she again checked the
drawing. She lowered the notebook...
...and looked into her father's sparkling green eyes. "Daddy!
How long have you been awake?" Mother Hen almost stood up on Dragon.
He jumped and shuffled aside to shake, giving her room to rush the
two steps to her father's side.
"Fifteen, maybe twenty minutes." He had the most amazing look
on his face, sort of like when he saw her flowers picture. "I was
just watching you and thinking about how much I love you and how
lucky I am to have such a special daughter."
Her eyes dropped to his cast and she blushed. She was furious
with herself because she didn't know why she'd done that. Doctor
Taylor and Nurse Carter had told her about looking people in the eye,
but here she was acting like a child again.
Her father knew. She had regressed that much. Some of his
little girl he was almost happy to have back, but he would give that
part up if she'd just learn how to handle a compliment and remember
it.
Then Mother Hen returned. "Do you need anything?"
"I certainly do. I need a kiss."
She gave him the best nose-and-lips kiss she could manage so
that he would know she loved him with all her heart.
He smiled at her and made that heart feel too big for her chest
again. But then he said, "Dragon breath's that bad, huh?"
For a moment she wondered, and then realized. "Oh. I didn't
know if you'd want me to, you know...." She couldn't stop her voice
from trailing off. She pushed the words to the tip of her tongue,
but they would go no further.
He settled back into his pillow. "Honey, I don't want you to
do anything that will make you uncomfortable. You know that."
She tried to think of the words for what she wanted to say.
She was having trouble with them, and she grew angry with herself for
acting childish. Her father gave her a look almost of sympathy and
asked, "Can I see the picture, or is it private because it's in one
of your notebooks?"
She breathed a sigh of relief. "It's private for us," she
said, opening the notebook to the place marked by her finger. She
almost said, "It's not very good because I didn't have much time,"
but she remembered what Nurse Carter had said. Instead, she turned
the book so he could see the page.
They were sitting on the big flat rock by the creek. Both were
dangling their feet in the water. They were holding playing cards.
Dragon was curled beside her and sniffing at a butterfly floating
just above his head. Dragon was wearing his collar, which was more
than the humans were wearing. She had captured every one of her
father's scars. She had debated about whether to include them, but
they were who he was, and she didn't want him to think she was
ashamed of them.
"That's incredible," he said. The awe in his voice made her
heart swell up in her chest again. "It looks like we were playing
strip poker,"
"Uh huh."
"And we both lost."
She lowered the notebook to frown at him. "No! We both WON!"
He smiled suddenly. "I like that. We both won. Can I see it
some more, please?"
He looked at it for several seconds and made happy sounds while
she waited for him to notice. "Wait a minute. If we were playing
strip poker, where are our clothes?"
She grinned and pointed. "Right there. You were wearing that
lei of wild flowers, and I was wearing this one of columbines."
His smile grew wider, and he winked at her. "We were walking
around naked?"
"Nooo," she said, trying to sound like Nurse Carter patiently
explaining things to someone slow. "You were wearing THAT lei of
flowers, and I was wearing THIS one."
He made big round eyes and nodded slowly. "Oh! I see. I
thought you were drawing naked pictures of your father."
She couldn't stop the blush, and she knew that he guessed the
truth from that.
"Oh," he said, looking embarrassed. "I didn't mean to pry.
Your mother and I both agree that whatever you put in your notebooks
is personal, like a diary, and none of our business. It's not our
place to ask. I'll forget that I said anything."
She hesitated, wondering what she should do, and then said,
"It's okay. I can show you some of them."
"Wynter," he said, giving her his most serious look that told
her what he was saying was something he really and truly meant, "I
would love to see any of your pictures that you have drawn, but you
don't have to show any of them to me if you don't want to. Okay,
honey? I don't want you to think you have to do that just to make me
happy or to keep me from getting mad. That would be blackmail, and I
love you too much to blackmail you."
"I know," she said, and she really and truly did know.
"Good. But before I look at them, may I have the urinal
first?"
She sighed deeply and put her notebook on the nightstand. "I
guess you'd better. I'd be awfully upset if you exploded and got the
pages all wet."
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Five of Eight
Richard shook his head in wonder. "When did you have time to
draw these?"
"Mostly while you were asleep. You aren't mad at me, are you?"
<Amazing,> he thought. <One sentence she sounds like a
thirty-year-old woman, the next she sounds like a six-year-old kid
caught raiding the cookie jar.>
"Of course I'm not mad at you, honey. I told you that what you
put in your notebooks was your personal business and wasn't my
concern. I can't then complain about what you put in there." He
looked at the current page and added, "Though you might not want your
mother to see these. Not until I've explained to her."
She nodded. "I know," she said in a soft voice.
He shook his head slowly. The picture of a naked Wynter
straddling his hips, her head thrown back in orgasm while he himself
was cumming--obviously inside her--was enough to stir the Beast, and
he felt it move under the sheet and his hospital gown.
"Is that really what I look like when I cum?" he asked.
She nodded but said nothing, eyes wide like a deer's caught in
headlights.
"I'm surprised you and your mother let me anywhere near you!
But your face is exactly how you look. How did you know how to draw
yourself?
She gave him the look of patience that women had been using on
men for the past few hundred thousand years. "Daddy! There are
mirrors in all the bathrooms, my dresser, that dresser over
there...."
"You masturbated while watching yourself in the mirror?"
The adult Wynter returned. "No, silly! I wouldn't have seen
anything! I had to remember what it felt like and then act it out
while peeking through my eyelids."
"Can I see the one before it again." In the straddling picture
he'd been in his hospital bed, arms and legs suspended. She turned
back to the one of them in a field of columbines. She was on her
knees and he was taking her from behind, doggie style, the way he had
described it to her. "Is this a wish for when I'm better?" he asked.
Then he realized what he'd said and hastily added, "Of course, you
don't have to answer that. That's prying. If you pretend I never
said anything, I'll understand."
She held the notebook in her right hand and ran her left down
the cast to grasp his two exposed fingers. "Thank you for not
wanting to pry."
He nodded.
"It's a wish." A smile washed across her lips. "I wish you
could be well and not EVER be hurt again, and that we could be in a
warm field with flowers and naked together, and that we could make
love forever and ever and ever and never get in trouble for it." A
tear escaped and trickled slowly down her left cheek. "But if we do
it together again, Mother will hate both of us, won't she?"
He squeezed her hand with his fingers. "No, she won't hate us.
But she'll be upset until she understands."
"I love you. With all my heart."
"I love you with all my heart, too, honey."
She leaned forward and kissed him, her soft coral lips parting
and her warm, pink tongue sliding into his mouth in a lover's kiss.
The Beast, sufficiently recovered from the workout she'd given it
while they were isolated, roared to life and tented the sheet.
-----
A pillow propped up Richard's head so he could see on the flat
bed. Wynter was impaled on the Beast, thrusting herself toward her
third release. Her first was a new treat for them. She'd allowed
him to eat her pussy to the point of orgasm and then had moved so
that he could finish her with his fingers of his right hand. It
hadn't been a fully satisfying cum because Mother Hen had been
worried about hurting him, so she immediately returned to his face,
locked her hands behind his head, and humped that hot, wet, aching
little slit on his tongue and lips until she came violently.
She laughed and giggled as she came down from the second
orgasmic high, her forehead resting on the wall above the headboard
and that sweet, lightly-haired set of lower lips hovering above his
face where he could watch her spasms trail off to nothing. After
resting for a minute she slowly moved down until her slit was over
the Beast. She brushed it lightly with her soft, short, blonde curls
and then slid her sopping slick slit along it. Richard fought
cumming outside of her.
She leaned forward. Twin blue-green pools of intertwined love
and lust looked deep into his eyes. Her lips crushed his, and her
tongue tasted her own juices on them as it sought his, invited it
into her mouth, and playfully tried to keep it out when it accepted
her invitation. Her head snapped back as if it were mounted on a
catapult, and her face momentarily contorted as she moaned. Her eyes
returned to his, and she grinned wickedly. "I'm gonna make you cum
as big as you made me do it," she announced, and again glued her lips
to his.
Entry was a little easier this time, though whether it was from
the stretching from her first intercourse or the effect of the juices
flooding her tunnel was anybody's guess. She was still very tight
around the Beast and it required all his effort to avoid spewing
while sliding into her. She began slowly, then increased her pace
slightly. Once she'd mentally established the rhythm and the length
of her strokes she began slipping the head of his cock almost out of
her tight little love tube, hesitating, and then sliding down around
it, allowing him to force her pussy open. She began inhaling on the
up stroke, holding her breath on the down stroke, and releasing it in
a soft explosive sigh at the bottom. It was the most erotic thing
Richard had ever heard.
Her blue-green eyes unfocussed for a few moments. She returned
to focus and looked deep into his green ones. She paused to squeeze
the Beast within her tight young twat while at the bottom of a
stroke, then resumed pistoning. "Does that feel good?"
"Incredible! Where did you learn that?"
"Girls have their secrets."
He blinked in surprise. "Ellen told you?"
"Would you be mad if she did?" A hint of worry had crept into
the playful tone.
"Mad? I'm going to give her a pay raise!"
Wynter giggled and did it again.
"Honey, I can't hold it back," he gasped and then released his
load in a wave of indescribable pleasure as she tried to maintain a
pound-and-squeeze rhythm on his bucking hips. When he finally
relaxed and opened his eyes, she started giggling. "What?"
"I think I'm ready to ride the bucking broncos at Frontier Days
now!"
He tried to force the concern he felt through his dreamy facial
expression, but it wouldn't appear. "Did I hurt you?"
"Unh uh," she said shaking her head. "I was worried about you,
though."
"Are my arms and legs still attached?"
She looked. "Yep."
"Then I guess I'm okay, too."
She squeezed his limp dick with her pussy, and it shot out of
her, allowing a little more slimy jism to dribble into the lake of it
she was sitting in.
"Drat!" she said with a pout. "I wanted to keep you in me."
"Well, that happens. Tell you what," he said with a
conspiratorial grin. "I'll let you put me back in you later, after I
get a little rest. Okay?"
She used her fingertip to cross his heart for him, then dipped
it between her legs and brought it between the small, round, pink-
capped orbs rising from her own slender chest. "I promise to let
you," she said, tracing an "x" with their mixed juices, "any time you
want to, now and forever."
---------------------------------------------------------------------
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."
THE END
--
Russell Hoisington
Copyright 2003