Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: The Big Bag
Summary: Riding the Bus with my daughter leads to more.
Keywords: inc,fic
   THE BEGINNING
   My daughter, Cala, sat beside me on the bus.  She started riding with me
after her mother and I got divorced, concurrent with her being accepted at
a new high school for her Senior Year.
   The combination of events was 1) her getting accepted to a magnet dance
school, and 2) our divorce draining us of the financial resources to
support her.  The compromise was that she did not have a car, but she could
go to the school.  Like everything, it had been handled emotionally and
poorly with much shouting and tears I felt guilty but she got over it.
   I was a disaster after the divorce, emotionally in pain, angry, and
hurt. Depressed.  Cala did not fully comprehend my feelings, as she had
just turned 18, a teenager in the prime of her life excited about dance. 
Actually, the divorce meant I got to be with her much more than I ever had
in the past, and given my emotional state I came to rely on her
emotionally, as I put forward a veneer of adult calm.  I hid my pain well.
I also could not help but notice how she had grown into a woman,
particularly the way she dressed for her dance school; and, her ability was
truly amazing.  I loved watching her as we waited for the bus,
surreptitiously practicing steps, moving her foot forward and to the side,
shaking her shoulders a little, turn her hips.  You could see her mentally
run through routines, and the way she could move, the pliancy of her body.
The intensity and level of her dancing had given her an amazing body, which
I would be lying if I said I did not notice.  I certainly did.
   But it was one day, in particular, I remember: The day she wore a pair
of large sunglasses.  It proved to be the seminal event which utterly
changed her and us.
   The other thing I remembered was her boots.  She had on a pair of black
boots tightly hugging her calves with buckles cinching into the leather,
which is so popular now.  Rising to just below her knees.  She had on a
pair of black tights, like colored opaque nylons.  Over those she had on a
pair of short shorts, dark brown with a tweed pattern, and with cuffs. 
Loose around her legs high up on her thighs, they accentuated her hips and
bottom perfectly.  Her top was a shimmery loose white pullover with a
collar that hung down loose around her shoulders and front.  And with those
large dark sunglasses, and her enormous bag.  She was mesmerizing, the most
beautiful and alluring that any woman had ever looked to me.  And the giant
bag which had everything.  Her phone (which she had at all times), her
makeup, shoes, everything I ever saw her with was always in that bag.
   Cala had long brunette hair, like her mother, thick, shiny and perfectly
cut and combed.  She could toss it around, a beautiful mane of hair
cascading down her back.  She had a small mouth, a protruding lower lip,
bright shining brown eyes, and the whitest teeth I had ever seen.  She
would smile at messages as she glanced at her phone and write furiously as
she sat next to me on the bus.  While she tended to ignore me, she still
did sit next to me.  Her earrings were gold, dangly, delicate and
beautiful. She liked red, and leather and black, but always with a hint of
the feminine.  Patterns and fabrics, flowers and soft curves.  Light
fabrics.  Her lips shined with a pink/red lipstick to which she applied
gloss which she drew out of her giant bag.  I noticed so many things about
my daughter that day, all burned into my memory.  Her mouth formed a frown
if you looked closely, but somehow always gave the impression of an impish
grin.  A Mona Lisa smile.
   She did not ride with me always.  Some days she got rides with friends,
and her mother would give her rides when she was staying with her.  So it
was one week on and one week off.
   But those days she wore the glasses, she felt like an exotic stranger to
me.  Whether she noticed, I do not know.  But I could not help but watch
her sitting next to me, all exotic, and beautiful and mysterious.  She
became someone else altogether to me.
   She fed my every fantasy after that.
   *****************
   THE BUS
   There is a routine on a bus.  Any bus will fill out at basically the
same rate every day along its route.  Everybody catching the bus at more or
less the same time, at their same respective stops, with only a subtle
variation near holidays or weekends.  Overall, every day works and looks
nearly the same.
   Since you get on at the same time on your same corner, and the bus has
filled to essentially the same level when you get on, your experience of
the bus is also the same everyday.  The habit extends to where you sit. 
There is a tendency to seat yourself in the same place.  Another rule of
the bus is that the seats do not start to double up until every vacant seat
has been taken.  Hence, for some there is always a window seat because the
stop is early.  For others you must always choose to sit next to someone.
It is this second group who do move around a bit, as they are less likely
to take the same seat.  To do so would tend to place them next to the same
person, who does take the same seat when it is empty.  To do so among the
second set of seat takers is to sit next to same person, putting one in a
too familiar position relative to the stranger they must sit next to.
   This is the etiquette of the bus.
   But we violated these rules, getting on the bus early and sitting next
to one another.  We, therefore, being early boarders sat above the wheel
well and behind the interior heater.  A warm place in winter, a cool place
in summer, and on the side of the bus which gave me the morning sun on my
skin.  I was a cat in my former life and I loved the feel of sunshine.
   We rarely spoke, we never made eye contact - or I can't say for sure
when Cala had on those sunglasses.  Her outfits were different every single
day, save for tights (her dancers uniform), never repeating and, yes, I
noticed it all.  She also had white ear buds, always, listening to music
and tapping at her phone.
   Her impish grin, and those impossibly white teeth, if something she read
struck her fancy.
   *************
   WHY
   After the divorce I moved to an apartment which is 1/2 mile from my
former home.  I have been working the same job and living in the same
neighborhood, and prior to one year ago, the same house for the past 25
years.  My life had had all the hallmarks of stability, until I was thrown
out.  The surface stability has mostly held, but internally I have been a
wreck, and no one to really talk to.  No adults, and I am still too
embarrassed, too emotionally vulnerable, to open up to any of my
professional male friends.  And I have much higher expenses on the same
income, and somehow have to hold it all together.  It felt as if it were
all lost, all a waste, fruitless.  The years of comfort - as I had been
such a creature of habit - doing the same things, going to the same job and
raising two wonderful children resulted in two adults who lived together
all of that time somehow losing track of one another.  I had been fine with
it, Lisa was not.  She came home one day and wanted more out of life, the
end result was that I was to no longer live in the house with my children.
It also contributes to this story, in that this was the event which led
Cala and I to commute by bus.
   I moved close by, into a nice little apartment with three bedrooms; and
have the kids - Cala and Mark - one week, she the other.  In hindsight I
could have suspected, as my wife of 25 years suddenly began to lose weight
and take an inordinate interest in her appearance.  I have since learned it
is called the divorce diet.  Our relationship since has evolved in, how
shall I call it, interesting directions.  First of all, her dreams of the
newly single life was not as exciting as she imagined.  Not much demand out
there for the freshly divorced forty something mother of two, as she had
hoped.  She also felt guilty about what she had done to me, as I took it
particularly hard.  I could not hide THAT from her.  What has grown out of
it all was an ongoing *secret* relationship, where we do go out, spend time
together, and have sex.  As Lisa puts it, fulfill our 'needs.' So a certain
strange stability has held in that department.  Although, I believe it has
made things more disruptive for me emotionally, and also kept my libido
elevated as I never knew when these little sessions might spring.  They
were spontaneous and based upon her needs.  On the surface, we get along
amicably, and at least do not fight in front of the kids.  Cala is 18 now,
so I guess she's an adult, but I hadn't been able to share anything
negative with her about her mother.  So again, this dichotomy between my
surface life and inner life.  How shall I say it, it's been thrilling and
awful.
   The end result of all of this, and why I include it here, is that the
whole event of the past year has yet left me depressed, but led me to an
escape hatch has been a rising sexual appetite, where my imagination and my
libido feed into a world of fantasy, erotica and pornography most days. 
Fed, in part, by my ex-wife.  I have needed to escape, and it led me into
porn, which also gave my stress and depression what it needed.  Call it
addictive, or whatever you want.  I was not dealing with my emotions in any
meaningful way.  I treated myself with distraction, fantasy, porn, alcohol,
and it all left me in a particularly heightened state of desire, with
dreams of adventure, lust, and beautiful women.  I began reading stories,
erotic stories, or looking at pictures (porn), dreaming of tete a tetes I
would never in reality engage myself in.  I am not particularly outgoing
and meeting a woman for a new relationship is a complete mystery, and I
simply say to myself - I am not ready.  I do know I am drawn to particular
types of women, essentially Lisa and variations thereof.  I call them
female women, girlie girls, I love dark hair (and dark pussies), mysterious
eyes, and bodies that move and exude confidence, lithe and flexible. 
Something the young girls these days seem to exude in spades.  Somehow, my
daughter triggered an innate desire in me whenever she put on those dark
sunglasses, becoming someone else entirely.  She became the fantasy of my
fantasies.  But I could do nothing about that, except within my own
imagination.  She was my daughter for gods sake.  But she became, for me, a
living avatar, a living manga cartoon.  She fed my visions and my libido, I
could feel my loins rise, on those days we rode together and on those days
she dressed in her tight outfits, her leather boots and those glasses.
   And when she sat beside me, her little lithe frame alighting next to me,
this little bird, her thigh just brushing mine.  I could feel my heart leap
and let my imagination run wild.
   It was on one of those warm spring mornings which come too early,
bursting onto the scene catching you unawares.  I have a particular
stirring in spring, get an especially wild feel and it triggers memories of
my youth.  I had been such a wild child in my youth, as had Lisa my ex, all
of that satiated in my middle years.  But it was the kind of sun and warmth
and scent which makes one think of sex.  I'd had a frustrating week at
work, but the day pushed any thought of strategy, phone calls, computers
out of my mind.  Deadlines were vanishing and my heart felt wonderful.  The
sunshine on my skin, warm wind and the smell of summer and wet grass.
   Naturally, my thoughts wandered to Cala, sitting beside me in those dark
glasses, feeding an ongoing fantasy of her as stranger.  I ran a comb
through my hair, felt warm and aroused.
   *******************
   THE FIRST TIME
   The sun was bright, warm, and the heater in the bus was turned off
allowing the spring smells in.
   !!
   Today she was wearing a perfume I did not recognize, exotic and sweet.
The perfume was citrus with honey and definitely rose, but with a bite. 
Her neck was exposed because of the low dip in the dress she wore, a light
yellow dress cinched at the waist.  But still those thin tights beneath the
dress, white today, and the presence of the tights allowed the dress to be
quite short.  No necklace, but a pair of loose earrings with a green gem.
Her collarbone, completely exposed, her beautiful bare throat was her
jewelry today.  Her right hand had a large ring in the shape of a flower.
She was feeling spring too, I thought.
   I glanced at her, she did not move at all, her impish face looking down,
staring at her phone and selecting some music.  Neither looking left nor
right.  So economical in her movements.  Pouting.  Her eyes covered in
those large dark glasses.
   She was small, stood to my chin when we faced one another.  Her breasts
were exquisite, a guilt rising in me as I daydreamed of her breasts, the
perfect size and shape in that tight fitting dress, tear drops clinging to
her front.  I could make out the pattern of lace in the fabric of her top,
a lace bra.  Did her panties match?  Oh, this was too much.  I felt this
wonderful stirring as the bus accelerated onto the highway and we settled
in for the journey.  I was feeling unusually aroused today, I felt hot,
lurid as this object of my fantasy was sitting next to me.  My daughter. 
Recklessly, I let my leg slide toward her and brush along the length of her
thigh, touching her knee with mine.  I held my leg like that, and looked
out the window as I did so.
   When!
   I felt an unmistakable pressure back.  Cala's leg pressing to mine,
unmistakable.  And it was not a bump, I could read that.  She was not
trying to bump me away, signalling me to move, back off.  It was, rather, a
light and persistent pressure back, our legs pressed together.  Our bodies
touching, by choice.  Her warmth penetrating my trousers, her smell
capturing my imagination.  We sat like that for perhaps five minutes or so.
She moved only to tap tap tap on her phone.  Her head tipped down, but her
leg still pressing itself to mine, her big bag laid across her lap.
   I could have been imagining all this, it all could have been a dream,
but she seemed somehow restless too.  The vibration of the bus was shaking
us and our legs at times clung together, and I wondered if it had anything
to do with the vibrations from the bus causing our thighs to brush up and
down and back and forth.  The bus slowing now, stuck in slow traffic
gridlock, and as I glanced at her she gave no notice.  A deep breath
filling her lungs, I looked to the window again and reached down my hand;
lay it at the top of her thigh.  Just to have some human contact I told
myself.
   My heart fell from my chest, rolled to the center aisle.  My breath left
me and my throat went dry to the point I feared falling into an
uncontrolled coughing fit.  I did not know where to look.  This was absurd.
It was an innocent touch, holding her leg, but inside the turmoil of what I
felt.  Her leg pressing to mine, and my hand wrapped lightly around her
thigh right along the hem of her cute little yellow dress.  The throb from
the bus engine accelerating and decelerating, her leg so warm and soft, and
me watching that window, looking at nothing, fearing to look at her.  Ready
to apologize, or do whatever I needed to do to get out of this outrageous
behavior I had just engaged in.  But my little girl did nothing at all.
   The bus was slowing now, exiting and entering the city.  The idling
engine vibrating my hand, her pressure on my leg continued unabated.  It
all giving me a horny buzz.  In all of it, she did not move, she did
nothing.  In my mind she had become my avatar, a stranger, a beautiful
siren.  She was frozen, looking off to the right (I lied, I peeked), a
slight turn of her head.  Her chin lifted somewhat higher as she listened
to the music, as if balancing a pencil on her chin.
   Did she realize how turned on I was?  That she was arousing her father?
I had carried it all this far.  Why not?  And I squeezed, moving my fingers
lightly and then squeezing her softly again.  There was no mistaking my
contact now, my touch at her thigh.  My idle hand had sent a smoke signal
out to the 'mystery' girl in glasses, my Morse Code.  Cala.  Cala.  You are
so beautiful.  My hand trembled, and my fingers felt numb.  I relaxed my
leg and pulled it away from her, leaving my hand where it was.  She could
stop me now.  The heat between our thighs cooled, but the heat in my hand
rose.  I could see her breathing, and she still did nothing, no movement,
her leg relaxing as mine had since we were pressed together.  It was as if
a spring had been unwound.  I began curling my fingers further between her
legs, stroking her thigh, stroking lightly over her tights, small
movements. My hand easily wrapped around her leg.  This taboo-breaking
contact established, what now?  What is the code of conduct for groping
your daughter?  At this point I was doing it because I had done it, how do
I stop such an outrageous thing?  How innocent?  How depraved?
   I began to curl my fingers, holding to her, draw my nails along her
flesh, could feel the fabric of her tights press along ahead of my fingers,
so thin.  It was as if I were touching her bare skin.  The etiquette is
this, my friend: Slow.  Gentle.  Stop and go, a move and wait, move and
wait, a touch which allows for my little girl to signal, whether to
proceed, to end it, or to wait for the police.  My rationalization was that
I was placing it onto her.  She, the governor of me.  An absence of
response, a face turned away, is a green light - so I told myself.  It has
been established since the game of red light green light was played in back
yards forever.  Curling my fingers over her smooth tights, feeling the hem
of her skirt and listening to her breath, I squeezed again and she brought
her chin lower, turned her head from the aisle in a distinct shift my
direction.  She had reacted to my presence for, perhaps, the first time. 
Her mouth was a straight line, slightly pursed, assessing.  Her
motionlessness perhaps the most erotic thing that had ever happened in my
life.  The imperceptible permission.  I felt the hot ache of desire spread
through my chest, and could feel my penis stiffen.  It was too good to be
true.  I glanced once more in her direction, much more obvious than I had.
Her dark glasses hiding those eyes, but her head inclined down before that
imperceptible impish smile/frown of her small mouth turned into a teasing
and imperceptible grin.  A sort of mocking, I cannot believe you are doing
this, but what the hell I'll play.
   I let my hand drift down further between her legs, which were never
pressed together.  The front of my hand drawing back and forth along the
inner thigh of her left leg as the back of my hand bushed along the inner
thigh of her right leg.  Stroking both sides of her inner thighs in
deliciously growing, lengthening strokes.  The big bag hiding it all.  She
waggled her hips a little, nothing more.  Total permission granted, my
strokes extending from her knees to the hem of her skirt, which you must
understand was high up my little girls thighs.  The heat rising as my hand
touched the hem, cooling as my hands ran back down to her knees.  Feeling
the heat of her sex had me turned on like nothing I could imagine.  Even
just thinking about my little girls sex.  Her lips turning positively
wicked as my fingers stroked and teased at the hem of her little yellow
skirt.  Giving me a kind of pout, pressing out her lower lip.  As if to
say, I dare you.
   But we were both surprised when the bus pulled into her schools stop. 
We had lost all sense of place or time or day or year, the bus pulled to
its designated corner, my daughters magnet school, being several stops
before mine.  She took my hand off her thigh, setting it back onto my lap.
A sort of stern tut tut registering on her lips.
   Rising, she simply said, "See you tonight, daddy."
   And did not turn as she tucked her phone into her bag and walked off.
   I had not realized what an emotional wreck I had become until she had
gone.
   I could not catch my breath, my cock was frozen into a painful pole that
I struggled to keep hidden, as I made my way to the office.  My cheeks
flushed red and I felt dizzy, afraid, embarrassed.
   What the hell had I done?
   **********************
   THE WHEEL TURNS
   The entire day I was in fear of the evening, of Cala coming home and
what I could possibly say.  What would she tell Lisa?  My fantasies had
taken me over a cliff, I was racing with the bulls down Spanish streets,
going wild.  Too wild.  Found myself watching for her during lunch, my
heart beating with a skip which reverberated in the unusually warm weather.
It was all so surreal.  My hands could not stop trembling, and I looked at
my hands which had so softly slid up and down the thighs of my little girl.
   And I had no idea what to say to her.
   But the issue never arose.  She came home in the same outfit, the same
large bag, but not wearing the sunglasses.  It was as if she became someone
else entirely.  It had not even been her.  Never really happening at all.
   I had already had two gin and tonics to muster the courage to ask, "Did
you have a good day?" And it was all I could muster.  She recounted her
teachers, her excitement at a program they were planning for later in May.
Some things happening with her friend Stephanie.  She was excited about the
new school.  It was as if the morning had not happened at all.
   I allowed myself to paper over the indiscretion, except....except that
it HAD happened and I was still an emotional wreck, whose need for sexual
release had never been higher.  I also allowed it to happen AGAIN the
following day, and the day after.  Each morning leaving the house, Cala
walking by my side in her little outfits and her big bag, making small talk
as we walked and waited for the bus.  My heart pounding by her side.  Cala
in those glasses, slipping in the ear buds of her smartphone, boarding the
bus and sliding in next to me.
   She could sit elsewhere, leave those glasses in her bag.  Ride with her
friends.  Anything.
   Instead, I perceived each day as a new tacit permission.
   *******************
   WHAT CALA FELT
   Cala lay in bed feeling melancholy.
   The entire week had put her into such a state of confused arousal.  She
lay in bed wearing nothing but a T shirt, letting her fingers drift down,
tucking them between her legs and opening up her nicely trimmed little
kitty.  This had been her morning routine every morning each day this week.
Hmmmmm.  It all felt so good.  So unexpected, so wrong, so stupid.
   Her life had been turned upside down along with everyone else.  She was
attending a new school she loved (though as a first year senior), but it
had all happened in the midst of her parents divorce.  It's really the
worst thing emotionally.  She had made friends, but given all the drama in
her life was unable, or uninterested in relationships with any of the boys.
It had left her extremely frustrated, lonely, self pitying; and, in light
of the last week - vulnerable.
   She petted her dark kitty, spreading her legs wide, lifting a knee and
stroking more firmly.  Stroking her pink wet center.  So...she felt
melancholy.
   That was it.  But why?
   Maybe because the 'boy' giving her pleasure right now, that was feeding
into her desires for more, was impossible.  Worse, it could not be acted
on. It could get out of control.  Seriously out of control.  Maybe it
exposed how needy she was, how hard to process her feelings.  How bad she
felt for her dad, the pain she knew he felt.  Was that why she let it
happen?  Only partly.  How horrible this past year had been, and through it
all how he'd been there for her.
   She was, even now, touching herself while imagining his hand there.
   What to do with these obsessions?
   -
   Feeling the desire rising, thinking, 'I let him.'
   Every day this week, I let him touch me.  Hmmmm.  I could not have
stopped if I tried.  Why?  Who does this?
   I liked it, my body, to be desired, to feel sexy.  I've been so lonely.
Too much going on inside.  It's just wild.
   But frustrating.
   Where could this go anyway?  Nowhere.  Ugh, imagining his hands feels so
fucking good.  When did he start having these sexy thoughts about me?
   Would I let him?
   --
   Cala was now squeezing her nipples with one hand, and drawing a lazy
circle over her clit with the other.  These morning (and evening) sessions
did not help, she'd been cumming over and over, but it did feel good.  Gave
her release.  Something she needed, they both needed this, it seemed.  Her
body was always aroused.  Hungry for touch.
   She wished she could meet someone 'like him' somewhere, that she did not
know him.  An older man, a stranger.  Obviously, to be not related.  A
stranger, he felt like a stranger on the bus, that was part of it.  The
problem, why she let it happen.  But this did have to stop, and it made her
sad.  She knew he was messed up, had not adjusted to everything that was
happening.  She was angry at her mother for creating all these unmet needs.
Sad.  We are sad, and needy.
   A broken family.  Were they trying to put some of the pieces back
together?
   But none of this helps today, now, this morning.  Should I let him do it
again?  Knowing she would.
   It made her ache just thinking about it, and she could feel her arousal
rise, as she undulated on the bed rubbing herself harder.  He was so close
right now, right in the other room.  She could go in there.  But she
couldn't.  Only on the bus, he was so normal otherwise.  How can he be so
compartmental?
   She began to wonder if she could tease him, arouse him at other times.
Could she?  In the evening, just like her thoughts of walking into the
bedroom.  But it terrified her.  Go in there, only her nightshirt, nothing
else.  Crawl under the covers with him.  His smell and the warmth of his
body.
   Cala's fantasies began to flutter through her, pictures of what might
happen.  His hands on her breasts, a lingering kiss.  Looking at her,
walking in and lifting her top, letting him see.  Lying in bed with him,
one image after another, as she touched herself.
   --
   I don't want to have sex with him.
   Do I?
   It isn't about sex.  We need each other, we need something beyond
ordinary.  To be Close.  To feel the other.  Love.  Love is sometimes
physical, at least a little.
   We've gone through the same things, the same losses, the same fear.  Our
touches are like dressings on these wounds we both have.  A little more
than a hug, a hug would be alright?
   Does this make us lovers?
   And these images passing, his hands tingling between my legs.
   Oh god, so good.
   Was this possible?
   ----
   The images began again, Cala could give encouragement.  Hints around the
house, innuendo.  Flirty smiles, be a naughty girl.  What he was doing to
her in reverse.  Her fingers flew over her pussy, sliding quickly in a
sideways motion.  Ugh.  Ugh.  Uh.  Catching her clit.  Her hips trembling,
her body on fire.
   Sighs filling her lungs, as tears filled her eyes.  She was opening her
legs wider.  Picturing her small hands, holding her skirt above her waist,
looking at the ceiling, letting him see between her legs.  "You can touch
me daddy, do anything you want," she cooed to no one.  His hand between her
legs.  "Oh, yes, touch me.  Touch me." Her body shivering, trembling,
   His cock in her mouth.  Oh god!  Sucking him.  His hands pulling her
hair.  "Fuck, me."
   Oh god, as a delicious orgasm waved through her body.  Her body writhing
and trembling on her bed.  She lay with the sheet down below her hips, her
nightshirt up above her breasts, laying there and running her hands over
her body.  Powdery smooth.  Imagining what she really wanted.
   What she really wanted?
   To lay in bed with him.  To just hold him for a whole night, nothing
else.  It does not have to be sexual.  To feel his arms, to feel safe,
sexy. Unable to see, just the darkness.  Skin to skin, to be naked with
him.
   Just the night, one night.  To reach and feel him, aroused, hard.  His
cock.
   Oh my.  She squeezed her tits.
   ---
   Arousal rising all over again.
   To touch our bodies together.  It is innocent.  It's nothing, I am a
woman, growing hair between my legs, sensitive breasts.  My smell.  I get
wet, nothing to fear,
   I could let him inside me.  MMmmmm.
   Open my legs, let him see me.  Ahhhhh.  The tip of his cock in my womb.
My tits pressed to his chest.  Oh, Christ.
   That ache.
   Why do I feel like this?
   ----------------------
   She sighed and sat up.  Nothing resolved, kicking the sheet away and
pulling the little nightshirt over her head, stepping naked into her
bathroom, and then showered and dressed,
   She always wore tights for dance, it was the first class in the morning.
She loved the feel, skin tight, the way she could move.  It's what she
loved about dance, her body felt so free when it could move so lightly. 
That was it.  The lightness of her body, and she loved the feel of the cool
morning air on her skin.  It often felt like wearing nothing at all.  This
morning she opened her panty drawer, staring at the colors, and didn't take
out a pair.  She left them.  Instead, she pulled on a pair of white tights,
without any panties; looked at herself in the mirror with her skirt tugged
up over her hips.  Turning, she could see the crack of her ass through the
tights.  Mmmmm.  Getting wet all over again.  From the front her cute
little dark bush utterly visible.  And no bra either!  Her breasts held in
the fabric of her dress, no bra.
   Naughty.
   Sexy.  Feeling extra sexy, extra hungry.
   So what?  He's going to try again today.
   Her daddy was waiting now, they were leaving.  Her little tights, no
panties, the cotton dress, no bra.  Fuck she felt positively wicked.
   She could feel her heart fluttering as they left, eying him.  Could feel
herself melt inside, feel the wetness of her pussy.  She put on her
sunglasses, she felt brave in them.
   Go ahead.
   Touch me.
   *******************************
   SURPRISE
   She walked out the front of the house in those glasses, those fucking
glasses.  A spring in her step, not looking at me.  Her large bag, and
already the ear buds in, listening to music.  She settled in next to me,
and sat close, very close.  Twirling her hair in her finger.  Her leg
sliding along mine.
   Permission?
   Hell, eagerness.
   My hand finding her thigh, the whole indiscretion feeling almost
ordinary.
   Reaching, rubbing between her legs, running along her thighs, feeling
her relax into my touch.  The feeling was electric between us.  If felt as
if she had been waiting.  I was moving over her, soft caresses, and running
my hands higher, up along her hips.
   One line in the sand I had maintained was to touch her in a manner which
could not be considered 'sexual.' I avoided touching too near her crotch,
or too low over her abdomen, or too near her breasts.  Any overtly sexual
touching.  I came close, too close, but I maintained this rationalization
of propriety by only touching her legs, side, hips, tummy.  Oddly, I had
been using her panties as a guide, the panty line across her middle.  The
line not passed as I rubbed her body.  They became my line in the sand.
   But today, as I stroked my hand up along her hip and over her tummy, it
was not there!  My Cala was not wearing panties?  Suddenly, so suddenly, my
heart burst at the realization.  This being an especially powerful erotic
fetish of mine.  She continued to tug her bag over her lap, covering my
indiscretions, and ignoring me as I ran my hand over her, once, twice,
three times across her hip and over her tummy.  Double and triple checking.
It was then I detected a light smile turn the corners of her mouth.  She,
knowing I had discovered my bad little girls secret.  It was too much!! 
Today she had on those high boots, a little black dress, impossibly thin
tights and no panties!
   Fuck!
   The encounter passed into another realm, as my hunger went where it had
not before.  My cock stiffened immediately, and I felt myself go warm.
   I reveled in running my hand over her tummy and drifting lower, lower
than I ever had, in the absence of that line where her panties should be.
Across her hips, over her abdomen, and then above her waist.  I had never
touched her above the waist either.  I ran my hand up her side under her
arms.  My mind perhaps checking, if no panties then...No bra either!  What
could this possibly mean?  Cala sat nearly perfectly still, and turned her
back a little to me as my hand rose up her side, covering my hand with her
arm.  It was all the invitation I needed, as I let my fingers brush over
the thin material of her top, grazing the soft flesh of her breasts.  Fuck!
No bra.  She dropping her chin at my touch and scooting still closer.  As I
squeezed I detected a light sigh from her, the first audible indication of
what I had been doing.  Her chin low, not facing me.
   She was so close to me now that I could feel her body heat against me,
and her warmth.  I ran my hand over her tummy and held her there, feeling
her breath, letting my fingers dip lightly between her hips, low into that
delicious V between her hips.  My hand rubbing lower still, feeling the
mound of her little puss and the soft fur of her pussy hair beneath the
fabric of her dress.  At my touch along the ridge of her little puss, her
hand landed over mine, and held me there firm.  The first time she moved to
stop me, not to remove my hand, but to hold me where it was, right over the
top of her little pussy.  The tips of my fingers able to feel the ridge of
her pussy mound pressed into the V of her abdomen.  I did not move at all.
   So many firsts!
   She ran her little fingers over the back of my hand, holding me,
squeezing me, touching me.  Her soft hand caressing the back of my hand
skin to skin, pressing me to her body.
   And that was how we rode the rest of the way that day.
   **********************
   BETRAYAL
   The week was over, and Cala and Mark were leaving for their mother's.
   They left on Friday nights and were gone until the following Friday. 
This week would be excruciating.  Cala, rising from her seat on Friday
turned and waved a little wave, "Bye daddy, see you next week," as I was
extricating my hands from her.
   Now the interesting thing about my mind wandering into all these
fantasies, obsessions, and taboo behaviors, is that the beneficiary of
these escapades had became my ex wife.
   On this day, my libido had literally exploded, and I needed a fuck.  The
week had me in a state I had never felt in my life.  I needed my cock
inside a sweet little, brunette pussy.  I managed to resist on Friday
evening, what with their being with their mother the first evening they
would all be doing something together.  But on Saturday, I could no longer
resist.  So I called.  Which, in itself, is unusual.
   That afternoon I had signaled my intent with an unusually intimate phone
call to my ex wife.  I asked "Can I come over?" My intent unmistakable, my
voice a deep rumble of arousal.
   "What, here at the house?"
   "If that's alright."
   She did not answer, except to say with a slight purr in her voice.  "But
the kids are here this week."
   "Are they there now?" Knowing they were not, they were seldom in on
Saturdays until late in the evening, and I had made sure to call early.
   "Well, no." A pause at her end of the line.  The wheels turning.
   "I need you little girl." I practically groaned.
   The pause at the end of the line, and then her voice whispering, "It has
to be right now!"
   -
   I have keys to the house, but today I knocked.  It's the polite thing to
do when you have come to the house to fuck your ex wife.  She answered, and
my kiss removed all doubt of my intentions, my hand wandering over her ass
and tits.
   "What has gotten into you?  You are playful tonight!" My little Lisa
cooed.  She had no idea.  She pulled me inside, "We haven't got a lot of
time."
   By the time I had her under the covers, Lisa had turned out the light
with the sun sending slanting rays into the room.  We rolled in together
and met at the middle, our naked bodies making tentative contact.
   "Mmmmm, sweet little girl," I said holding her to me feeling our bodies
sliding together, "What I want is to fuck you right now." I leaned up on my
elbows in the bed and began turning her away, her bottom bending toward me
as I pulled the covers back.  I wanted to see that ass, and a little dirty
cunt.
   She laughed, "So bad!" she squealed as I pushed her face into the
pillow.
   "Lets just say spring is in my blood today, that's the kind of day...oh,
god!" I beheld her as she lifted her ass up before me, parting her legs and
exposing that little clam shell between legs.  Her sweet little cunt
opening into a pink shining line as she pushed her knees into the mattress,
that unmistakable brunette bush.  Her hole quivering and gaping.  The top
of her thighs opening to her pussy.  Fuck, I wanted her.  Cala, fuck.  Fuck
yes.  My fantasies arising, I was imagining Cala on the bus, coming home,
coming home with me, opening her legs....
   She was looking back at me, enjoying the look of lust in my eyes, her
hair already wild.  She cooed out, "OK, well, Fuck Me."
   In that moment, in that light, my fantasies came to life.  My mystery
woman in the dark glasses, my little girl.  I had torn her tights down, her
words were so hungry, this feline before me, crouching down on her elbows
like a cat.  As she said 'fuck' her ass found my cock, and I could feel my
hardness slip right in between her thighs, her slick pussy opening and I
let my cock settle between her lips, pulling back hard and finding her, a
nice push - aaahhhhh - feeling her open around my cock.  Squeezing inside!
Opening, nice and tight around me.  Oh, fuck, God, those thighs I had been
dreaming of all day.  My illicit fantasies coming to life.  She was already
so wet, slick and slippery.  Her sex hungry for a fuck, so open, wet, and I
imaged the feeling of my Cala's pussy as I stroked her thighs, tugging her
hips against me sinking so deep, the feeling of wetness enveloping my cock,
squeezing me as I touched her.
   "Mmmm.  Babe!  Wow.  You're a hungry girl too." I growled.  Imagining my
daughter, touching her, violating her.  Holding myself against her hips, my
memory of running my hands over her thighs, rubbing between her legs. 
Picturing my Cala on the bus.  What would she let me do?  Would she let me
do it again?
   Lisa was whimpering with each thrust, "It's ugh, been ahh, awhile. 
Mmmmmm."
   I gripped her hair and pulled her head back, loved her long dark hair,
holding her as I rode her.  "You bad little girl, you get punished for
being so bad.  Letting your daddy in the house like this."
   Lisa was taking it, pushing back against me and moaning.  "I'm sorry for
being so bad, what you going to do?"
   I was drawing my length out and squeezing it in, "Fuck you...Fuck you.
Bad girls get fucked." Each moan, a deep guttural drive as I plunged
inside. She was pressed into the bed and I followed her down, Oh ...  god.
So tight.  She squeezed her legs together, my thrusts pressing into her, as
I thrust harder she opened her legs wide.  Letting me slide deep inside. 
Oh so fucking good.  I nuzzled my face into her hair and began chewing her
neck, breathing in her ear.  I knew how she loved that, this sexy little
girl.
   So good, it felt so good and as she began to press back against me
again, I rolled off and fell onto my back.  My cock still hard and hungry,
shiny with her juices, she turned herself and got up onto her knees,
straddling me, her favorite position.  I loved looking at her full breasts,
her wide hips.  Her bush matted with juices.  We knew our bodies and play
well, our dance.  I, realizing how much like Lisa my Cala would look,
imagining her naked body above me, the cascade of hair around her
shoulders. Lithe and languid, hungry little hips.  Imagining her legs
spread wide.  It would be so much the same.  She leaned down over me on all
fours, and lay herself down slowly letting her breasts lay on my chest and
holding her ass up, put her mouth to my ear.  "Mmmm, I found a little cock
here." As the hairs of her pussy brushed over my hard cock.  "Mind if I sit
down?  Just for a little minute?  Your little girl wants to sit on her
daddy's lap." The words stirring me like she could not imagine.
   "Ahhh, No, go ahead.  This seat is wide open."
   "Mmmm, OK." She raised herself up and let my cock pop up between her
legs, and then grinding her cunt around, "Mmmm, Woops!  I think I,
ghhhohghhhh," she squeezed herself over my cock head, her cunt opening
around me, squeezing herself down and then rising up again, "There's
something slipping inside my, uh, pussy.  It's so big!"
   I could see my cock sliding up inside her as she rose up, riding me.
   "Oh, Don't mind me, mmmm.  Sit down."
   "I think it's, oh, what a big cock!" She held her lower lip between her
teeth as she slid down on me again, the same as Cala.
   "Just let me cum in you, that's all.  Our secret."
   "I don't usually just come in and sit on my daddy's lap like this," she
cooed in a little girl voice, leaning herself down across me, rocking her
hips, rising and falling on my shaft.  "...And let him fuck me." She began
to rise and fall, riding me, holding to my chest.
   Lisa was getting hotter, riding me harder.  Her voice coming in gasps.
Driving her clit into the hilt of my cock, her mouth held open and her hair
falling around my face.  "You feel so good.  Am I your good little girl?"
She had no idea what she was doing to me, and I rolled her over onto her
back in one motion.  It surprised her, her eyes went wide as she looked at
me.  I felt powerful, and hungry.  God I had to fuck!
   I started to slide in and out of her, holding her hips, spreading those
thighs.  I was fucking her so hard, pulling her legs into the air.  Driving
my cock into her, sliding along her clit.  Could feel her gripping me with
her cunt.  She had her head thrown back, and then pressing her hands
against my chest pushing at me as I pumped into her, clawing my skin,
lifting her legs in the air.  Her eyes were closed, and she was panting,
"Ah, Ah, Ah." I reached down and held her thighs, her bare thighs in my
hand and stroked her legs as I fucked her.
   I leaned down and breathed in her ear, "You're my good little girl. 
Hmmmm.  You like being my good little girl?  Letting me fuck you any time I
want?"
   "Yes, oh yes, fuck me.  You like my pussy?  My cunt?"
   "Oh yeah, your hungry cunt." Pulling her legs open wide.  What was going
on?  I had to touch her pussy, I had to put my hands inside of her.  I was
panting, "You are mine.  All mine." Reaching around her thighs and digging
my hands between her legs, feeling the hairs of her cunt, running my finger
over her ass, feeling my cock slipping inside.  Her fat pussy lips open
around my cock.
   "Yes...I can do anything I want to you."
   "Mmmm, Yes."
   "Take you out without panties, just this pussy in a short little dress.
MY pussy.  I can fuck it any time I want."
   "Oh yes, I'm your good little girl."
   "Put my hands in your clothes, squeeze your tits." And I squeezed.
   "Ahhhhh." I pulled her tight against me so her clit was rocking over the
veins of my cock, sliding along my shaft, riding her hard, a slick sheen of
sweat as our bodies slid together.  Her hair was sticking to her cheeks. 
The bed rocked and our moans and cries filled the room.  Her cries of "I'm
your little cunt, Fuck my cunt" filled the house.  "Make me cum, fill me,"
moaned out from her wet lips.  She began to pant in wild short breaths. 
"Oh, yeah, make me. . .  make me Cum.  Fuck me.  Oh, god, yessssss!"
   I was fucking, she was mine, could feel myself coming, ribbons of cum.
Exploding into her.  Wave after wave as Lisa's body shook beneath me, we
cried out and fell into the mattress.  I held myself inside, her body
relaxing beneath me.  I kissed her softly, and her liquid eyes gazing up at
me.  Our senses slowly returning.
   Silence.  Our bodies entwined.  Her eyes began focusing, she said
quietly, "You ARE a bad boy tonight.  God, that was crazy."
   I cradled her head in my hand, wiped the hair out of her eyes stroked
her chin and kissed her deeply.  We kept kissing, then rolled onto our
sides.
   She whispering, "Wow!  Shit.  Jesus.  What has gotten into you?" She sat
up, moved to the edge of the bed and stood beside the bed bending to pick
up her clothes.  Her thighs shiny with her juices and my cum.  She cupped
her pussy with her hand, as a nice little cream pie was leaking down her
thigh.
   "I'm going to be sore."
   I smiled, with the vague -satisfied- notion that Cala and I would ride
the bus again.
   *********************************
   BETRAYAL WITNESSED
   Cala was riding her bike home from a friends, taking her time and
enjoying the warm sun on her skin - thinking about the touches her father
had rained on her all week long.  She had almost told Stephanie, her best
friend, about what had happened with her dad on the bus.  But thought
better of it.  Instead she had given obscure hints, describing it in a way
that made her dad some 'unnamed boy' she had seen who had touched her.
   Stephanie squealed in delight, reacting in a much stronger way than Cala
anticipated, and so the next half hour was spent tamping out the flames of
curiosity in her friend; putting it all off as no big deal.  And not
knowing the boys name, etc.  etc.  But the discussion brought it all back
into her mind again, the feeling of his hands on her, the wetness filling
her middle, the tickle in her belly.  The warmth, and rush of adrenaline.
She felt herself getting aroused all over again, as she told Steph she had
to get home.
   But she did not, and took the long way.
   When she got to the house, Cala decided to ditch the bike in the
backyard rather than going in the house, opening the garage door, and
bringing the bike in that way.  So after laying her bike at the back, she
came in through the basement.
   When she got upstairs, Cala immediately noticed that not only was her
mom home but someone else was there.  There was talking coming from the
second floor, talking like she had never heard from her mother.  Sing song,
lilting.  She crept along the hallway, put her hand on her mothers door.
   !!
   "Oh my god!" she breathed under her breath.  The sound of a man in moms
room.  She knew immediately, mom is in there having sex!  When, it hit her
in the next second.
   Fuck!  Blood rushed to her eyes.  It was dad!  The fucker.
   The adrenaline she had been feeling, the warmth in her belly turned to a
ball of anger in an instant.  All astonishment, she turned to go to her
room.  Thoughts were mixed with a flood of emotion.
   -----
   Just the other day he had been touching me!
   What a fuck!
   And I stood in front of my dresser and stared in the mirror, my brunette
hair and young skin, standing there in a blue and white striped top, cheap
and comfortable, and a pair of short jean shorts.  It was the weekend and I
didn't have to wear anything fancy, no dancing.  I pressed my hands into my
breasts, realizing what having this body was going to be like.
   How am I feeling?  What am I feeling?  Had I really entertained anything
more with daddy?
   He was definitely seeing me as a sexual being, what was that about?  I
did over-tease on Friday.  And for a moment felt sorry for him.  Maybe it
was mom who called him?  And he was all worked up.  Did I indulge him too
much?  Was that so bad?  It did feel nice, to be touched, caressed.  But
the anger lingered.
   I like older men, no one really knows that - not even Steph.  I have no
interest in any of the boys at school.  And things were still normal
between us, it was just when we were on that bus, all last week.
   Fuck, it was fun, you know.  But now,
   Fucker
   This is messed up.  But it's mom that is messing him up, and now he's in
there fucking her!
   Fuck.
   -----------------------
   She looked back at her door and could hear them again.
   Cala poked her head out and stared down the hall.  They were loud, did
they realize?  Obviously didn't expect anyone home, or thought they could
hear if someone came in.  She was only home because the topic of
conversation had drifted to her dad.  Worried of what she might say, and
realized she had already said too much.  So sneaking quietly down the hall,
cheeks flushed, she made her way toward the door, keeping far enough away
to dive back into her room if she had to.
   Their voices were muffled, but standing with her head tilted to the hall
wall she could make out her fathers voice, "Mmmmm, sweet little girl, what
I want is to fuck you right now." His voice was so deep.
   But it was mom's voice that surprised.  It did not sound like anything
she had ever heard before, "So bad!" she squealed, and Cala could hear the
bed.  Had he just thrown her onto it?  How long had they been in there?
   "Lets just say spring is in my blood today, that's the kind of day..." A
pause, and, "Oh, god!"
   My mom again, "OK, well, Fuck Me." God, just then her voice sounded like
mine.  Young, giggling, lilting.
   It was quiet for a while.  A deep groan, and the sound of the mattress
again.
   "Mmmm.  Babe!  Wow.  You're a hungry girl too." Daddy's voice was so
low. She crept closer and leaned her head against the door.  Unmistakable.
They were fucking!  Oh my god.  Cala's hand found its way down to the
crotch of her jeans, sort of holding herself there, thinking of sex.  She
could feel herself getting wet, aroused, but feeling jealousy at the same
time.
   This was crazy.
   Mom whined, "It's been awhile."
   How many times have they done this??
   "You bad little girl, you get punished for being so bad.  Letting your
daddy in the house like this."
   Oh my god, Cala's cheeks flushed.  He called her his little girl.  Did
they do that??
   "I'm sorry for being so bad, what you going to do?" her mom cooed.
   The bed began rocking back and forth.
   "Fuck you...Fuck you.  Bad girls get fucked."
   Cala was being caught up in the feeling, swirling around.  Her emotions
lost.  It was so hot, it made her dizzy, she squeezed her legs, feeling the
juices in her puss.  Pressing her head close to the door, their voices were
muffled again.  The ache between her legs.
   -
   'Was he thinking about me??'
   And mom groaning, so liquid, her voice sounds just like mine.  "Mmmm, I
found a little cock here.  Mind if I sit down?  Just for a little minute?
Your little girl wants to sit on her daddy's lap." And this flood of
emotion, the feeling of a cock sliding in between my moms legs.  I squeezed
my thighs, imagining his hard cock.
   "Ahhh, No, go ahead.  This seat is wide open."
   "Mmmm, OK."
   I could picture it, mom is sitting on him.  Her legs apart, riding him.
I was so fucking aroused.  I wanted to see, but the door was closed.  I was
moving as close as I could, lay my hand on the door.
   "Mmmm, Woops!  I think I, ghhhohghhhh, There's something slipping inside
my, uh, pussy.  It's so big!"
   Christ, I thought I was going to cum.  I was squeezing my thighs. 
Imagining being fucked.
   "Oh, Don't mind me, mmmm.  Sit down."
   "I think it's, oh ...  big cock!" The groan of her voice.
   He was sliding into her.  Fuck.  Fuck me.
   "Just let me cum in you, that's all.  Our secret."
   "I don't usually just come in and sit on my daddy's lap like this, and
let him fuck me.  You feel so good.  Am I your good little girl?"
   I was hot, aroused and angry at the same time.  Thinking about them, I
could hear the bed again, feel the rhythm of their movements.
   "Ah, Ah, Ah." Mom was crying out.
   Daddy, in a deep voice, "You're my good little girl, you can ride with
me any time you want.  Hmmmm.  You like being my good little girl?  Letting
me fuck you any time I want?"
   I felt like he was talking to me, like he wanted me.  Letting him fuck
me any time he wanted.  His toy.  I felt hot.  But what the hell was he
doing with mom?  How long has this been going on?  The whole fucking time?
   "Yes, oh yes, fuck me.  You like my pussy?  My cunt?"
   "Oh yeah, your hungry cunt."
   Listen to them, I could not believe it.  So dirty, so fucking dirty. 
Squeezing my thighs I slipped my hand into my underwear.  God I was soaking
wet.
   "You are mine.  All mine.  Yes...I can do anything I want to you."
   I had let him do anything he wanted to me all week, and now he was doing
it to her.  I pressed my finger into my slit, felt my juices, rubbed my
clit and shoved my fingers in my hole.  Immediately, felt an orgasm wave
over me.  I could barely stand as I bucked into my hand.  God I was so hot,
stifling a moan I came in silence, and continued holding my fingers in my
pants.  Feeling the soft wetness of my sex.
   "Mmmm, Yes." My mom was so loud now.
   Daddy continued, "Take you out without panties, just this pussy in a
short little dress.  MY pussy.  I can fuck it any time I want."
   I didn't wear any panties on Friday.  Jealousy rising, realizing how
aroused he'd been.
   "Oh yes, I'm your good little girl."
   "Put my hands in your clothes, squeeze your tits."
   I was coming off my orgasm, and jealousy flooding my eyes.  I'm done
with him I thought, pulling my fingers out of my pants.  All shiny and
slick.  God I had gotten so aroused, the bed was pounding.  My whole body
aching as I continued to listen.
   "Ahhhhh." she was crying out, I could hear in her voice the rhythmic
fuck, literally feel his cock sliding in and out of her.  Mom was such a
slut, "I'm your little cunt, Fuck my cunt.  Make me cum, fill me.  Oh,
yeah, make me. . .  make me Cum.  Fuck me.  Oh, god, yessssss!"
   God it WAS so fucking hot.  I was getting aroused all over again again.
   And
   Silence.
   After what seemed like a minute, my mom in a little sing song voice,
"You ARE a bad boy tonight.  God, that was crazy."
   Had she gotten up from the bed?  I backed away from the door, and went
back downstairs and slipped out of the house.  They can NOT know I was
here.
   I thought I knew my parents.  Had no idea they were still having sex.  I
trusted my daddy.  I loved him in so many ways.  I sort of felt like what
we were doing was OK, that it was all harmless, that he had no outlets and
I felt bad for him.  But to get all worked up and run to mom, worked up
about me, and take it all out on her.
   That is fucked!
   I felt jealous, like...like, I wanted to be fucked like that.  Not by
him, but by somebody.  There was nobody for me.
   Nobody I cared about.  I stood by the side of the house and waited,
looking out until I saw him leave and then slipped back in through the
basement.  I stayed down there, did not want to see my mom.  She was
probably still laying naked in her room.  God, what a slut.  But it's not
me getting any.  This was all crazy.  I stood at the back and watched dad
leave the house.  He hadn't even parked in the driveway.  When he was gone,
I went back in through the basement and into the laundry room.  I was all
horny again, fuck.  I took off my clothes, my top and my jeans, stood there
in just panties, and then stepped out of everything.  Stood there gazing at
my naked body, wondering what daddy would think if he'd ever had the chance
to see this.  Mom and I looked a lot alike, I always knew that.  But I was
so much younger, hotter.  She had wider hips than me, I had a tiny waist
and smaller breasts.  But from behind we looked the same, I turned and
looked into he mirror.  My mane of black hair falling between my shoulders.
   Fuck, he got all worked up with me and took it out on her.  Fuck that
shit.  This is fucked.  Would he think I was sexy?  He already did, I was
sure.  I felt this desperate need to be wanted by him, to be thought of as
sexy.  But decided, not to be used this way.  No more, AND I did NOT want
him with mom!
   I lightly ran my hands over my body, squeezed my tits and looked in the
mirror, wondering what it would feel like if he did all that to me? 
Without thinking I threw my clothes together with a pile of clothes on the
floor, into the washer and turned it on and went back into my reverie.  I
lay my hand over my bush, positioning my hand to cover all the hair growing
there.  Looking at myself.  I wonder if I shaved?  Thinking of how he had
actually felt my little bush, and my cheeks flushed.
   When.
   I sensed it, that feeling that you're not alone when just a second
before you were.  I emptied the dryer, took a pair of panties and pulled
them on, now standing there topless in my panties.
   And then I noticed, mom standing near the basement stairs.  How long had
she been there?  I hadn't said anything.  She was standing back by the
door, dressed.  But her hair was a mess.
   I turned, and we locked our eyes together and I suddenly had the need to
appear normal.  Normal.  Fuck!  I'm fucking topless wearing nothing but
panties.  I can do this.  I had already cum once, what did I look like?  We
BOTH looked like we'd just been fucked.
   Seeming surprised I saw her, she spoke first, "I heard the washer.  How
long have you been here?"
   "I just got here." I lied.
   "You didn't go upstairs?" It was a statement, but it sort of sounded
like a question.
   "No.  I, uh, was all sweaty from biking and took my clothes straight to
the washer.  I didn't think anyone was in the house."
   Mom paused, and then said, "Well you shouldn't be running around the
house naked, your brother could see you."
   I wanted to say, "Or my daddy." But I bit my tongue.  Mom standing
there, all slutted out, my dads cum probably running down her legs
lecturing me about being naked.
   I just said, "Sorry."
   I looked straight into her eyes as I said it, almost sending a secret
signal that I knew everything.  She looked away, and turned.
   When she was gone, I fled upstairs into my room, closed the door. 
Winded, breathless.  Everything that had just happened.  I lay on my bed,
running my hands over my body.  I was still so aroused.  Once, I thought I
heard footsteps coming to my room, but they stopped and was gone.  My heart
was racing, my mind all muddled.  Part of me wanted to haul off and smack
him for being there, for arousing me, for making me want it.  I felt
aroused and embarrassed.  The way I'd looked at myself, touched myself. 
Christ.  Tears were coming to my eyes.
   There was another emotion closely following my wave of shame.  My body
was shaking, my breath coming out in gasps.  I was more aroused than I'd
ever been, felt hot, feverish.  I was all swollen and achy between my legs.
Imagining him in my room, talking to me.  I could remember every word,
closing my eyes could make it seem he was talking to me.  Remembering the
words, he was.
   What the hell was going on with me??!!
   I pressed my hand into my panties and ran my fingers through my slit,
spreading my legs wide.  Fuck me.  This was my dad I was thinking these
things about.  I knew I shouldn't be turned on.  I should be disgusted. 
But I wasn't.  I was dying inside from this torment.
   I came three more times that night.
   *********************************
   IT ALL FALLS APART
   The week passed slowly, but for the next several days I felt satiated.
As I calmed down my thoughts drifted to putting this whole episode away,
back in a box somewhere.  Let it end.  No more.  But these feelings morphed
into a, see what happens attitude.  And as Friday came the anticipation
rose in me.  My Cala had not changed, so beautiful.  Her dark hair and
beautiful eyes.  We had a lovely weekend.  But I did detect a certain
reserve, distance, a cautiousness.  The electricity was still there, a
lingering look.  A pause before speaking, many thoughts but nothing said. I
was nervous, but maintained normalcy.  The possibility of losing the week
we had was causing my resolve to ebb.
   So that, by Monday, to say I was ready for bear as I boarded the bus is
an understatement.
   But Cala left the house WITHOUT her sunglasses, despite the day being
sunny and wonderful.  It somehow changed everything.  For me, the signal
was received.  She eyed me as she got on the bus and as she slid in next to
me.  She engaged in her same tap tap tap of the phone, but remained seated
toward the center aisle, away from me, and did not provide any point of
contact between us.  I felt silly and deflated, having ridden this fantasy
and the hopes of this morning.  A week of thinking and she had put an end
to it.  It is the right thing to do, after all.
   I remember thinking how my little Cala accepted my advances, but upon
reflection perhaps she has now decided her dad was a pervert.  Or its just
something we shouldn't do.  Should I talk to her about what I had done? 
Apologize?  Just let it all pass.  I felt ashamed, still buzzing from the
past two weeks.  I felt suddenly exhausted.  I felt as if I'd just gotten
into an accident.  This was the kind of emotional wreck I was, and then
feeling guilty how I had fucked Lisa all the while dreaming of Cala.
   Cala kept glancing my direction, her small mouth a straight line.  We
said nothing, seldom did we talk on the bus.  This would not be the place.
   To say I was not hopeful the next day, I was.  But this pang of guilt
now overtaking me.  My desire and libido was yet off the charts.  I had
never felt like this, like a teenager.  I wanted to ask her to remember her
sunglasses, what it all may mean.  But again, Cala left without her
glasses, were they in the bag?  Put them on.
   But I would not ask such a thing.  I could not breathe, felt depressed.
My whole life felt like a waste, a stupid waste, spending my time chasing
after my own daughter.  It is embarrassing.  Today she sat nearer me, not
toward the aisle as yesterday, and she seemed more relaxed as well.  The
moment had passed, it was gone.  I kept my hands to myself.
   All day I wondered, worked through in my mind every conceivable facet of
Cala's thoughts.  But I said nothing, we had no contact at all that week, I
left her alone.  Feeling she wanted it that way.  By Friday it would be
another week with her mother, and I would not see her at all.
   On Friday I left work early, thinking of catching the bus home, knowing
what time Cala rode the bus home.  She may think it was weird, but I wanted
to see her.  Should we talk about this?  She would be leaving tonight, but
as I went past the stop she was not there.  Then I felt stupid and realized
how things needed to be normal.  My mind exhausted, so much emotional
adrenaline.  When my phone rang.  It was Lisa, no doubt coordinating the
transfer.  They would be leaving either tonight or tomorrow and be with her
for the following week.
   I answered, "Hello."
   I had been so distracted, it never occurred to me it was anything but a
perfunctory scheduling call.
   "Hi." Her voice sounded different, her hi was drawn out, but still with
a playful edge.
   "Yes." I turned myself toward the window speaking low.  The bus was full
and I had a little difficulty hearing, hunching over my phone and holding
it tight to my ear.
   "Say, I never got a chance to thank you for, uh, the other night."
Pause. "Don't know what got into you."
   "Yeah, well thank YOU."
   "But, uh, well I wanted to add that I thought it might have been a
little inappropriate." Fuck.  "You being at the house and all.  It's not a
good idea.  The kids could have seen us."
   "Fine." I answered in an even, measured tone.  Here was the Lisa I knew,
who shit on everything.
   "Oh, and, uh, I might of said some things that I didn't really mean."
   To that I responded, "I think I might of known that." I wanted to say No
Shit Sherlock.
   "I just wanted to be certain." She was heading me off, afraid I might be
calling her again.  Shooting me down, it had crossed my mind.
   I did say, "So, only boring sex from now on, got it." I was beginning to
tremble with anger.
   "Not what I meant...."
   I cut her off, "You know what, I've had a horrible week.  And now the
one good thing that happened in it, you SHIT on..."
   "Nickie, I..."
   "So you're welcome for some great sex.  It will never happen again."
   "Nickie I don't want it to end this ..."
   I cut her off, did not want to hear it, "SERIOUSLY!  You call me...Look,
I got to go, I'm on the bus.  I can't talk." And I hung up the phone.
   My heart beating harder than it had all day, my hands trembling.  I
shoved the phone into my coat pocket.  Fuck her.  Fuck her.  This has been
the story of my whole life.  This was the Lisa I knew.  Take every bit of
spontaneity in my life and kill it.  It's what she's been doing to me for
the last twenty years.  Killing everything, EVERYTHING, in my life I enjoy
and feel good about.  Crafting me into this stable, routine, reliable,
shell of a man.  Behind the anger, an unsettled guilt.  I had used her to
play my fantasy.  I shouldn't have gotten so angry.  But what the fuck!
   I pressed my hand to my temples and squeezed.  Fuck.  FUCK.
   What had my life become?
   *********************
   FORGIVENESS?
   Now I was not quite such a mess as, up to this point, it may appear.
   I recovered admirably over the weekend and had a quiet weekend and was
determined to settle down the following week.  Though with a tinge of
depression.  I was hit hard by midweek.  But I had managed to take my mind
off things and the following weekend had Cala and Mark again, and we
engaged in several activities.  I grilled and we had a generally nice time,
and Cala seemed more herself.  She was warmer, everything back to normal.
By the following Monday, I too was back to normal, albeit anyone looking at
me would know I was down.  All the drama was behind me.  Though I was
thinking about trying to apologize to Lisa, do something with her.  My
arousal was off the charts.  I needed to apologize and somehow reconcile to
our 'relationship.'
   Monday passed and Tuesday, Wednesday.  I was adjusting, a thing of
memory.
   Except this morning, Thursday.
   Cala came down the stairs dressed for school, leaving with me as always.
Normal.  But as we left the house she slipped on those dark sunglasses, and
stepped out ahead of me looking back as we walked toward the stop.  I felt
my heart flutter.
   Coincidence.
   Now, there was a mist of rain, the smell of spring, enough chance of
rain I brought my umbrella.  No need for sunglasses, was there?  I could
not help it, as she slowed her walk, letting me catch up, her ear buds in,
silent.  She was transforming, becoming this mysterious woman again.  Her
small chin, the straight line of her mouth.  Impish grin.  My heart
quivered, my breath catching in my throat.  Remembering what I had done.
   I boarded the bus and stared out the window, distracted.  What was this
about?  I was not even going to try get my hopes up, it was too exhausting.
I kept looking at her, noticing, again her body, her hair, her outfit.  A
tight pair of jeans and a loose jersey.  A blue and white extra large
jersey.  As I glanced, not knowing if she noticed or not, my heart racing,
feeling warm and trembling.
   But I was determined, no, I was not going to do anything.  It's chance,
she doesn't even know what the glasses do to me.
   No.  No way.  The fun was over.  The whole experience had become too
painful.  One can experience too much arousal.
   But my rising lust was betraying my reason.  I felt as if the heat of
her was radiating along my body, and her smell.  Her wonderful perfume.  I
glanced her way and could see this shimmer, a mist of water droplets in her
dark hair.  The misty rain.  The way the clouded daylight shined through
the windows, it created this light shimmer, like small diamonds in her
hair. An angel.  And she still had the large bag and the phone, and those
dark glasses.  My heart was pounding and I could feel my cock stiffening. I
glanced at her legs, and also realizing the 'tight' jeans were not jeans at
all.  They were tights the color of blue jeans, of course, form fitting to
her body with that jersey fallen around her lap.  The fabric was even
slightly faded along the top of her thighs, and had seams imprinted on the
sides.  The jersey was large, and loose.  Blue and white with a picture of
an angel on the front, the school mascot.
   Angels.  How appropriate.
   I felt like I could not breathe, as my resistance melted away.
   Fuck, I wanted to touch her again.  One time.  Cala, would you let me?
Same as before.  This is something I need, human contact.  But I just could
not bring myself to.  I looked out the window and felt it, her leg pressing
along mine.  God she was right there, pressing her leg to me.  I pressed
back in return and she held the pressure.  Smoke.  Fire.  My heart beating
in my chest.
   I lay my hand at her thigh.  I can't describe the feeling, like eating
food after having nothing for days.
   She was looking down at her phone, wearing her ear buds.  No reaction.
Same as before.
   I began drawing small circles on her, began stroking along her thighs,
more quickly than before, hungry.  A wave of lust, relief, desire.  I
traced the printed seam up along her inner thigh, slipping my hand down
between her legs, lightly stroking up the inside of her legs as I had now
weeks before.  Feeling her legs open for me.  Stroking her, higher, higher
up to the edge of the jersey.  The fabric of the tights were just like
nylons, with a jean pattern.  It felt as if I were rubbing her skin.  Just
the movement of fabric beneath my fingers.  I was more openly looking up
and down her legs as I stroked her, the open space between her legs, the
length of her thigh still pressing to mine.  She, turning her chin to me, a
small smile on her face.  Almost as if welcoming me.  A hello after long
absence.
   I'll play.
   God, each smooth stroke of her leg, I could feel the warmth of her body,
so intoxicating.  How she let me do this.  I continued to stroke my hands
softly over her legs, same as the last time.  Down to her knees and back up
between her legs, no hem of a skirt.  I could reach up high into her crotch
and let my fingers drift higher still.  I could feel the heat of her, her
warmth.  Higher.  The humid heat of her body.  I held my breath as I
brushed my hand right at her crotch, scratching my nails on the fabric. 
And no panties.  I could tell immediately.  Fuck.  She was crazy.  She
sucked in her breath at my touch.  I could feel the swell, the perfect form
of her two pussy lips, through the thin the fabric right between her legs,
and the cushion of pussy hair.  Her response was to open her legs still
further and tug the bag over the top of my hand.  Hidden, I slid my hand
down, she was letting me palm her pussy.  I curled my fingers and scratched
there between her legs and held my hand there.  Feeling her fire, and god
she was hot and wet.  Her juices staining the fabric, I could feel her.  I
simply wanted to hold her there, feel the heat of her.  I could feel the
cushion of her her pussy hairs in the fabric.  Her little cunny separated
by a bit of fabric.  No panties again today.  My heart pounding in my
chest. She slid the tiniest bit down, causing her jersey to rise a bit and
I could see my hand laying over her puss.  Like a kid caught with his hand
in the cookie jar, I raised my hand up, back under her jersey, hiding it
from view and lay it now over her abdomen just below her navel.
   She turned her head to me slightly, cocking her head, waggled her hips.
No expression, but the impish smile was there.  An, 'I can't believe you
just did that look.'
   I had just run my hand over her puss.  And she had let me.  She was
probably thinking the same thing as me, what the hell am I doing?  But the
look she gave me felt more like, what now?  I let go again, it was too
much. I was about to explode, so I caressed her thighs some more, and she
looked away again.
   But once again rubbing higher, repeating my prior path.  Scratching at
her upper thigh, right at her crotch, and to the side back over her
abdomen. Avoiding her puss this time, honestly, it was too much.  I would
have cum.  And something else.  I realized I had to touch her, skin to
skin. I wanted to feel her flesh.  Her head cocked toward me again as I
left her tights, tucking my hand beneath the jersey and began to rub her
bare tummy.  Following along the edge of her tights, could feel the indent
of her navel.  Her powdery skin, no movement other than the rise and fall
of her breathing.  My eyes on her, silence.  Permission.
   My hand drawing these delicious strokes over her tummy, the feel of her
soft warm flesh was electrifying.  Oh my god, my hand was tucked up under
her jersey and I could feel the coolness of my hands by the heat of her
tummy.  I could feel her body clench at my touch, it probably felt cold.  I
wanted to say, 'sorry' but she had those ear buds in, there were no words
between us.
   The transition to nothing between my hand and her flesh was
exhilarating. It is not an exaggeration to say I nearly came from that, and
my cock was a pole in my pants.  My hand lay over her tummy now, as I
traced the edge of her ribs with my fingers.  Could feel her breath and her
rapidly beating heart.  My mind an utter blank, only sensation, I haven't a
clue what thoughts there were.  Only sensation, her smell, her warmth, the
powdery feel of her skin.  Nothing more.
   I continued to stroke my hand higher, so my fingers began to press at
the edge of her breasts.  Far enough to feel the fabric of the softest
little silk bra I had ever felt.  The kind with no under wire, a thin silky
fabric covering the softness of the swell of her breasts.  I traced the
fabric higher.  Her soft flesh, and the sudden edge of her bra, a bra that
barely covered her nipples.  A little bow in the middle.  This bra was not
lace and I rubbed the top swell of her breasts and could feel the beat of
her heart.  Covering her breast with my hand and I squeezed.
   Do you want to know the exact size and shape of her breasts?  Do an
internet search for 'Champagne Coupe' a glass molded from the breasts of
Marie Antoinette.  To look at a champagne coupe is to look at the breasts
of my little girl.  She was looking toward me now as I touched her, and had
even moved her bag a little to cover my hand.  Her aloof demeanor had
broken, and she eyed me as my hand could be seen rustling around beneath
her jersey.  But again, she let me touch her, had even positioned her bag
for me to continue.  I began to rub the side of her breasts with my palm
and to press her nipple with my thumb.
   I looked at her, at her face, she was biting her lower lip with her
teeth, nothing more.  May not have even known she was doing that.  But she
was looking my way now, watching.  Definitely watching.  Desire rising in
her, her cheeks were flushed.  Desire, and with it a nervousness.  I
continued, though at one point as I attempted to tug her bra higher,
wanting to feel her nipples to expose her breasts beneath the jersey, her
hand covered mine.  Sudden, but not hard, a soft hand pressed to her breast
where my hand was.  Stopping me.  The rules of red light green light, and I
relented.  She did not, however, seek to pull my hand out.  But, no, I was
not to remove her bra, pull it up and off her, expose her.  Instead I moved
higher and insinuated my fingers over her soft breasts from above and
tickled my fingers over her nipples, feeling them stiffen at my touch. 
This apparently was allowed.  Green light!  To this also, she did respond
by shifting herself, turning herself toward me and moving a little closer.
If I could just see her eyes, they would be closed I thought.  And yes, as
I had imagined, her breasts were sensitive.  She loved what I was doing, I
could tell, as her chin rose and she lay her head back on the chair, so my
ministrations continued.  Squeezing and rubbing her little nubs.  God damn,
it was wonderful.
   My hand now drifting back down her front, caressing her rib cage, her
tummy, her abdomen.  Continuing, I began slipping my fingers beneath the
edge of her tights, pressing low on her abdomen, between her hips,
narrowing to that little puss, but still rubbing bare flesh.  I could feel
the downy hairs form a line from her navel, opening into her little bush.
To this her head tipped down again, toward me, her chin nearly touching her
neck.  I could imagine her thoughts as she looked slightly my way,
'Really?' and her impish smile forming a line, was there any 'behave' in
it. Her lips pressed together, our entire conversation an indecipherable
read of her mouth.  I paused, no response means permission, as I let my
palm simply lay over her abdomen beneath her tights, the tips of my fingers
playing with edges of short pussy hairs.  I could stay like this all day.
She was still turned toward me.  My god, and she letting me, all of it. 
Unbelievable.  Time again, stopped.
   I was just drinking her in, feeling the curve of her body.  The quiver
of her flesh, her warmth.  The heat of her was melting me, my hand
trembling as I held to her.  Her legs remained comfortably open.
   After a long while, and realizing we were in the city now, I pressed
slightly further.  My movement readily allowed by the stretchy material of
her thin tights, the fabric opening as my hand pressed lower, as my fingers
brushed into the forest of her little bush, feeling the ridge of her pussy
mound.  Further, her leg opening a little more, and my hand was again
cupping her bare pussy.  I could feel the ridge, the swell of each lip. 
The hairs tickling my palm.
   At that moment I believe we were both surprised at where my hand was,
what I held to.  I almost felt as if I had gotten further than intended. 
To continue was to split open this pussy ready to burst, I was imagining
how wet she was.  To feel her juices, and it was I who suddenly became shy,
reserved.  My hand in this little girls pants, her legs open, cupping and
palming her pussy.  I squeezed, squeezed.  And her chin went low with each
squeeze, her head cocked to the side, and she clung to her bag which she
had now pressed right over her lap.  I did not press into her, open her,
slide inside, press my finger in her, burst her open.  Her fruit so ripe
and ready.  She was chewing her lip again.  Her cheeks were flushed now,
betraying her arousal.  A slight undulation of her hip.  Her hunger, I
could feel it now.  Crazy, we were crazy.  Using my thumb and forefinger I
squeezed again, squeezed her pussy lips together from the edge, rubbing her
like a piece of clay, applying a pressure where I imagined her clit to be.
   She breathed in deep, stifling a moan, and her fingers clung to the bag
she was holding, I detected a shiver.  Her body trembling at my touch, her
hips trembling, her body all a quiver and breath quickening.  I closed my
eyes, as I let my fingers press down, the pressure of the tights on the
back of my hand, could just feel the beginning of her parting labia her
leaking puss.  A seam of wet flesh, a ribbon of her juices.  Her aroused
inner lips swelling.  Oh god, her bare pussy, her nicely trimmed bush.  I
was so god damned close.
   Her head was cocked to me again, and then eying the front of the bus.  I
looked up, realizing the bus was approaching her stop, moving past stop
lights, her stop was coming.  I did not have long, and I never wanted this
to end, but neither had I intended to have my hand covering her bare pussy.
   I let go, held my hand to her abdomen for a moment, felt her relax and
release a deep breath, as she lay her hand right over mine and held it.  A
soft pressure separated by the fabric of the Jersey.  And I did not move,
letting my hand lay on her bare skin, wanting to touch her as long as I
could.  Feeling the pressure of her hand on the back of mine.  So nice. 
Now this felt innocent, intimate.  Having held and stroked, caressed, and
touched her most intimately.
   What would she taste like?  I looked at her mouth, her shiny beautiful
lips.  A kiss.  To hold her in my arms, to hold hands.  To talk.
   As the bus came to the stop I was aware, as was she.  Time to go.  I did
not want this to ever end.
   As the final stop came and passengers began to rise, she squeezed my
hand and shot me an impish smile and pressed a piece of paper in my hand.
   I HAVE STUDY PERIOD AT ONE DADDY.  I THINK WE BETTER CHAT
   On the other side it said said
   TEXT ME
   It felt as if I had taken a grenade in my hand.  Placing it in my pocket
I felt as if everyone was looking, knew.
   I remember thinking, if I sucked my fingers hard enough, I could
probably taste her.
   ***********************
   THE DEAL IS . . .
   The meditation of my day: What do I do now?  Should I?  Do I write?  Or
wait until the evening.  Writing would be so much easier than facing her.
   Followed by: What do I write?  What could I possibly say?
   The answer was inevitable, the invitation, the compulsion was too great.
I could no more have not contacted her than I could not draw my next
breath.
   That afternoon, at one o'clock, I sat at my desk and tapped out:
   hello sweet
   i feel I should say i'm sorry
   i don't know what has come over me
   it won't happen again.
   There.  What else could I possibly say?  I sat there and stared at the
words, unmoving.  How was it?  Stupid.  Admission of guilt.  I had to
apologize.  Ultimately I had no ability to even assess - and hit send.  It
was too late, and I was on to recrimination and self doubt.  Undoubtedly,
the worst text ever.  I could not stop looking at the screen.
   -------------------
   Amazingly, I did not have to wait long for a reply.  A little box
opened, received:
   daddy
   i know you been messed up
   don't apologize
   i feel bad too
   its ok
   you went a little faaaaarrr today though
   badboy!
   C
   -------------------
   I began trembling.  She was encouraging me?
   My fingers fumbling at the keys:
   yes
   i don't know what came over me
   if i'm disturbing you let me know
   please
   -------------------
   you not only disturb
   you shake my whole being
   i don't know what to think
   so i'm not:)
   but
   yes
   i will let you know
   C
   --------------------
   I had to tell her:
   sweet it's those glasses
   they do something to me
   you become like someone else
   a fantasy
   -------------------
   lol
   serious?
   I wondered
   i did give you the leg bump today
   C
   -------------------
   you did
   but i'll behave
   promise
   ------------------
   k
   not too much
   you CAN touch if you want
   its nice
   i'll see you tonite :)
   C
   *****************
   I read the words and something from my distant past woke in me.  I
blinked at it.  This door opening, the windows of my mind thrown open.
   The dust scattering in the sunlight:
   ok
   you have to let me know
   --------------------
   glasses
   lol
   i know i should not write this
   but
   i bet pussy tames you good
   C
   ---------------------
   I laughed, my cheeks flushed.  I had to answer:
   yes!
   --
   And in another burst of recklessness I added:
   tell me about yours?
   ---------------------
   Her response flew back:
   !!
   YOU
   you don't beat around the bush do you?
   ^_^.  :):):):
   my pussy
   mmm
   is this dark little chestnut kitty that likes to be petted
   when it's good she'll curl into herself
   and if it's really good she'll purrrrrr like a baby tiger in play
   There was a pause, and another message scrolled before me:
   let me know if you want to see it sometime :)
   C
   ---------------------
   I paused.  The red flag waving before me, the boundary not to be
crossed.
   This was escalating.
   She just named it.
   I wrote:
   !!
   That might be taking things far
   ------------------
   Hmmm.  Ya think?
:D But then seeing is less than touching
   don't you think badboy?
   C
   she added:
   one more thing
   I know you been seeing mom
   Drrrr
   C
   -----------------
   I blinked at the screen, my mouth went dry
   I had no idea how to respond
   did she know?
   I just wrote:
   a little, yes
   -----------------
   I don't think it's good
   going out like that with her
   good for YOU i mean
   C
   -----------------
   She did not seem to realize.
   I just responded:
   OK
   i'll think about that
   --------------------
   you can come to ME
   see me
   go out with me
   if you need anything
   C
   --------------------
   she had no idea, did she?
   I felt myself grow more aroused as I thought about this offer.  I wrote:
   I can do that
   -------------------
   Promise?
   be my badboy
   C
   ------------------
   Always
   -----------------
   Just Promise
   always is a ridiculous concept
   You want to promise
   promise.
   You won't ALWAYS be there
   at some point you'll be dead
   or stuck in traffic
   or in love with someone else
   or whatever.
   C
   ---------------
   that's so cynical
   ----------------
   years of experience
   Ha!
   So...
   Promise?
   ----------------
   Just then, she seemed so much older than, me.
   I closed with:
   OK
   Promise.
   i'll see you tonight
   sweet
   -----------------------
   K
   it takes two to get tangled
   C
   ****************
   TEMPTATION
   I kept looking over our messages.  As I did, I imagined what kind of
kisser she would be.
   Silly I know.  Her mouth became the focus of my overwhelming desire, her
lips, so soft and small.  She kept them shiny with lip gloss.  Pink and her
impish frown/grin.  Her white teeth, I was imagining a tongue so delicate
that it would melt into me.  Would she kiss me though?  God I wanted to
kiss her.  To know her, lean in to her as she sat down and before even
thinking, kiss her as I rubbed her thighs.  Which was all I had of her
right now.
   I set to work again, but my mind refused.  Instead it wandered, to
breasts.  I was imagining her body, her top removed, closing my eyes and
holding my temples.  She was small, small breasted, small enough that she
was perfectly supported without a bra.  Drops clinging to her body, god
those nipples.  Mmmmm.  Fuck, I could see them.  Stiff little nipples.  I
could just make them out, imagining myself press my thumb into them.  Like
her mother years and years ago.  She has such gorgeous breasts, pink little
buds.  Sucking on her, oh, give me your sweet nipple.  Sensitive.  Would
you hold the back of my head as I suckle you?  I wanted her, the feel of
her.  What does she taste like?
   Taste?  Her hair, so perfectly quaffed.  They say you can tell girls
pussy by looking at her eyebrows.  Thin, trimmed, the care of the hair -
the same down there.  Her pussy would be dark, trimmed.  Small like her
mouth?  Tight?  Would it have the same impish grin?  I imagined her lain
back in the bed, holding her legs open, open and ready, wet, her pink slit
opening to me.  That brunette pussy.  God.  I got to concentrate.  Aroused,
her swollen lips, a little light pink hood and white clit, hard, its sticky
sheen.  Does she like being fucked?  That was a stupid question.  God; in
my god damn fantasies, this pussy, God help me.  I would breath on her
clit, my warm breath, lick it so soft.  Imagining her smell, of cinnamon
and honey, cherries and roses, fuck I was hard.
   I would forever do so much more to her in my dreams than I ever would or
could.  It was maddening.  "Please," I whispered.  pushing my fingers out
in front of me, imagining their insertion into a delicate puss.  My cock so
ready.  Trailing my fingers over her thighs, would she let me.  I wanted
her touch, to have as much of her as she would allow.  Wordless, her ear
buds playing music, her legs slipping wide.  Her dark glasses, wordless,
voiceless.  I could bite her pussy lips, suck them in, hold her with my
teeth, and lay her back and, oh god, to fuck her.  Fuck her over and over.
Push her panties aside.  Hell, tear out her crotch.  That kind of fucking.
   **********************
   HOME
   I maintained a studied calm as I got home.  Realizing what we had done,
and what we had written.  Nonetheless it would be as if we were starting
over each time.  I walked into the house and knew she was there, could see
her big bag on the sofa.
   That evening we maintained an utterly normal demeanor, getting ready for
dinner, eating, but she was in a spicy mood.  Nothing overt, but I could
see it in her eyes.  A playful flirt.  They lingered, her cheeks flushed. A
tingling electricity between us.
   After dinner as she cleared the dishes, she wandered near to me and
whispered soft, "I really do have a red silk nightie you know." An obvious
reference to our chat.
   I paused, looked at her from tippie-toe to the top of her brunette head.
Her eyes innocent saucers, enjoying the way I looked at her, undressing
her. She twirled to the sink, enjoying my eyes on her.  Maybe a little bit
too much I thought to myself.  When dinner was finished she was putting
dishes into the dishwasher.  Bending, giving me a nice view of her ass in a
tight pair of tights and leotards, which looked as if her body were
painted. Up top she had on only a half top sweater over the leotards.  I
could actually see the line of her ass, she still had no panties on.  I
felt myself stiffening at that thought, and chastising myself for being so
out of control.
   At one point she turned and said, "What?" An impish grin.
   I flushed, "Nothing."
   "I know what." She smiled, turning back around, "It's OK dad."
   I know I needed to leave, but what I did was move up behind her, and
turned her to face me again.  She shrugged.  I stood close, could lean in
to kiss her, and as I looked down at her she pressed into my chest as I
held her, turning her mouth to my ear, "You going to be bad again?"
   I could feel my fingers tingling.
   I let go and she stood there before me, barefoot, white tights, her
leotard dipping low between her small breasts.  Her sweater unbuttoned.  I
looked down at her and held my hands at her hips, and stroked her abdomen
with my thumb, as an answer.  She lifted her chin, meeting my eyes as I
touched her, as I continued to run my thumbs along the front of her thighs.
   Nervousness?  Surprise?  I continued, and rubbed my hand over her ass,
only that tight little leotard.  She had no panties, nothing else on.
   She turned away and continued to rinse dishes as I rubbed my hands over
her ass, only her ass.  Her back to me.  It was my sole display of self
control.  She had said a little touching was OK, hadn't she?  Leaning in,
my hands still on her, I tucked my chin into her shoulder and said low into
her ear, "You feel nice."
   "So do you."
   The water continued to run but she did not move.  I reached around and
lay my hand flat on her tummy..  Her head went down as I softly stroked her
there.
   "This OK?"
   "It's fine." She cooed.
   I brought my hands up now almost to her breasts, but again stopped. 
Rubbing her ribcage and under her arms.  She held completely still.  God I
wanted to touch her again, but did not.  She moved to the side, light as a
feather, the continual touching was working us up.  Looking at me with
glassy eyes she said, "Just a sec." And was out the door.
   She returned wearing those glasses moving back into place in front of
me, turned the water on again and pressed her ass back into me.  This game.
God, I was all wired up.  My cock was a pole and she touched it with her
ass.  I wrapped my arms back around, caressed her body.  Permission, her
hair and smell, I squeezed her breasts, meeting her with my crotch rocking
my hip into her, nuzzling my cock into her ass, let my hard cock brush up
and down her behind.  She felt me, and her whole body, melting at our
touch.
   I could feel her going soft as I pinned her there.
   Her voice so soft I could barely hear, as she pressed back against me
and waggled herself over my crotch, feeling how hard I was.  I stepped
back.
   "Daddy."
   "Yes," I was stroking up and down her back as she stood there.
   "I want to ask you something?"
   My face flushed, what was it?  Here it comes, I thought.
   "So...you won't go out with mom anymore." For a moment I felt relief at
all the other things she may have said, but then a flood of wondering all
over again.  What did she know?  Exactly.  I did not want to ask.
   I stood in silence.
   "Promise?"
   "Honey, we..."
   "I think I know why, daddy, you two are lonely.  Maybe you need to go
over stuff about us.  But, I DON'T think it is good.  Go out with me."
   This shook me out of my reverie.  She did not realize what she was
saying.  To go out with her.  To be alone with her, how far did I want to
take this?  She was cutting me off from sex, did she know that?  My mind
going a million miles a minute.  Am I just leading her on?  What am I
doing?
   She backed herself into me and waggled her ass back and forth over my
crotch, feeling how hard I was.  I stepped back from her.  Suddenly
nervous.
   I stammered, "Uh, sure, I guess."
   "I'm serious.  You don't know her anymore, like I do." She turned around
and stood very close, looking up at me.  Her hair hanging down over her
eyes, her beautiful hair, full mouth, her cheeks shined.
   "I'm being serious.  Anything you need.  You need to talk, let me know.
I'm yours.  All yours.  I can...do...anything you want."
   She lay her hand to my chest, and I took her hand.
   "Baby, I..."
   "You need to stop." Her eyes melted into mine.  "Meet someone new; or,
you know, be with me."
   "I don't know.  I just don't know."
   "I already let you put your hands on me." I was looking down at her,
still hard.  My heart pounding.  She was following my eyes.  "Go ahead,
squeeze my tits." She took my hands and pressed them right over her
breasts.
   I squeezed and drew my fingers down her front, looking down at her body.
   "Can we go upstairs?  You could, you know, give me a massage."
   Turning, she faced me, "And you can behave?  Right."
   "Yes." I needed limits here.  "Well, if this IS OK.  Isn't it?  Mmmm,"
and as she faced me I was squeezing her breasts, pressing her nipples in
with my thumb.
   "Yeah." She closed her eyes, "Ahhhh." Those sensitive nipples.
   I ran my hands back down over her hips, and began stroking her tummy
again, downy soft skin, feeling the line of her bush and tracing a line
along her hips.  She felt so fucking good.  I began to rub her ass again.
Below the waist.
   She took my hand, "Come on."
   When from the other room Mark called,
   "DAD!!"
   I NEED SOME HELP.
   ***********************
   HELP
   Now I helped Mark with his homework quite often.  In fact, through all
of this I had not neglected Mark at all, its just that in this little
missive I don't write about everything.  I was actually quite a good
parent, I believe.  Other than my porn obsession, sleeping with my ex-wife,
and groping my daughter.
   Sigh.
   He was a good student but he had to work at it, and he liked me to check
over his work, and if he got stuck to sort of guide him.  I did not mind at
all, and I actually understood what he was doing which is more than a lot
of parents.
   I went in and sat on the sofa by Mark, all his stuff laid out on a
series of TV trays.  Shortly after sitting down, Cala came into the living
room as well and sat down by my side and just behind me.  I was leaned
forward on the sofa and she was laying back into the cusions.  The room was
somewhat dark except for the light illuminating Marks work, and I felt a
little shuffling which was Cala drawing her legs under her.
   And then I felt her hands at my shoulders, rubbing across my shoulder
blades and down the middle of my back.  It felt nice, and now this actually
was a little innocent, letting her rub my shoulders.  After a bit though, I
felt her tugging at the back of my shirt, and next thing I knew her hands
were up under my shirt rubbing my bare skin, stroking and scratching my
back.  Skin to skin, knowing it was my little Cala it was making me hard. I
reached back with my one hand and found her knee and sort of lay it there,
rubbing her a little on her calf as she rubbed my back.
   I was moving some of the papers around with my one hand, and rubbing her
calf with my other.  At one point she leaned in and kissed my neck, which
is distracting to say the least!  I swatted at her with my open hand and
shooed her away.  I heard a faint giggle, Mark not noticing at all.
   She moved in a bit closer, and taking her nearness as an opportunity I
actually began to stroke higher up her thighs, as I did not the bus.  She
kept moving forward, closer and closer until my hand was landed right over
the crotch of her leotards.  I began palming her pussy, with her hands
stroking my arms.
   So we had taken our kitchen impropriety into the living room.  I glanced
back and Cala's eyes went wide and her mouth opened in a teenage grin, none
of the reserve she showed on the bus.
   I was looking over at Mark, engrossed in his work again, writing out
figures, He did not notice, so I let my hand stay where it was, holding
this delicious little cup full of Cala's puss, her sweet cunny rocking
around in my hand.  I cupped it, about the size of a little peach.  When I
pressed my middle finger, could feel her slit run along the center.  My
every sense wakened, my cock grew stiff in my lap and I adjusted it.
   What would we do when we got upstairs, but Mark's work continued and he
had a lot to do.  I continued to help, and was determined not to cut it
short.  I could tell Cala was trying to tempt me with her little games with
me.
   Two can play this game, and I began to ever so slightly curl my fingers
pressing them hard between her legs and she began to wiggle around over my
hand, closing her legs trapping me between her legs.  I pressed my middle
finger upward pressing the fabric of her leotard and tights into her pussy
lips, and could feel her getting wet soaking the fabric, I continued to
scratch over her glancing back I could see her head bowed and her eyes
closed.  She noticed me and lifting up, touched her upper lip with her
tongue, and mouthed the words 'UPSTAIRS.'
   She was having a hard time holding her hips still as I rubbed her, and
her frustration was pronounced, but I felt it too.  Yet I continued.  After
awhile she moved back away from me into the cushions and my hands fell from
her.  Frustrated no doubt.
   I waggled my hands around at my side, but now she ignored me.
   A little while later she was gone.
   Shit, I thought.  But I was going to do the right thing on this count.
   *************************
   FRUSTRATED
   Cala threw herself down on the bed in utter frustration:
   Her mind going a million miles a second.  I have never felt so horny and
frustrated in my life.  How can it be?  What the fuck?  I mean, WHAT THE
FUCK?  I reserve my feelings, can usually control myself, hold myself in;
but now!  And these are feelings that cannot even be expressed to anybody!
No matter what.  This secret.  Its no wonder I am so prone to tears.  I
graduate in two weeks and then, I'm leaving and my life may be just
beginning but then it makes me cry.  Why, because THIS will be ending.  I
leave Nick, dad.  I been crying at the weirdest shit.  This is fucked.
   Cala rose from the bed and walked a restless circle in her room.  Do I
want this?  Hell, What is THIS?  Waving her arms in the air.  An affair
with my dad?  To be jealous of mom.  Jealous of Mark.
   Shit, serious daddy issues.  She laughed at that.
   My heart literally aches, it hasn't helped I can't find a boy in my
life, just scare them all off.  I'm the new girl.  My heart, just hurts.  I
got to keep pressing down these feelings.  And, goddammit Mark.  Really?!
Tonight.  You got to study, tonight!!  For fucking two hours!
   She fell back onto her bed.  I don't want to leave, I don't.  I want
THIS.  And she tucked her hand between her legs and squeezed.  I fucking
ache, I'm wet all the time.  I am so fucking horny.  Ugh.  It's all so
overwhelming, I don't know where to start, or what to say, I'm like on
quicksand and the surface tension is pulling me under.  To try pull away
just sucks me in further.
   I just need to go to bed, wake up and everything will feel better.
   Yeah, right.
   Cala went to her dresser, pulled off her clothes and threw them in a
pile at the foot of her bed, got in her bed naked.  Enjoying the feel of
cool sheets on her skin.  Her eyes wide open in the darkness.
   I want to wake up tomorrow and go swimming, lay in the sun.  Feel the
water on my skin.  Pamper myself.  It calms me.
   But her mind continuing to drift to Nick.
   Nick.  Nickie.  In my mind I see his name now, Nick.  Nickie.  Fuck. 
Serious daddy issues.  She rolled to her side stroking her bush with her
fingers.  I am going to end up a stripper.  She laughed into her pillow,
her eyes watering.  We've been in this 'relationship,' what, two, three
months?  Yeah, call it that.  This relationship.  Everything felt like it
was moving closer and closer, until this evening.  He was as playful as
I've ever seen him, different.  If this is what he's like, I want it.  But
god.  It can't.  I'm leaving, I'm leaving, I'm leaving.  Then, the
distance. Fuck.  fuck.  Now all I have is that empty feeling I'm always
left with when someone you love really hard, and go after hard, just up and
goes back to their life.  And then, you don't exist.  But I know that is
not it, he had to help Mark, nothing more than that.  I am reading too much
into it.  I am just needy or greedy.  But the day I leave, it's OVER. 
Alone.  I should not even be feeling this shit.
   I feel emptier and lonelier than before, and it keeps happening.  I am
one of those girls doomed to repeat my mistakes, and THIS!  Fuck, the
ultimate impossible relationship.  I mean I really started to feel like he
was cheating on ME when he was with mom (I fucking still do), and now
tonight I feel that way again.
   She hit the bed with her fist.
   You, working your way into my heart through my pants, its so
aggravating. How do I justify this, why?  Why!  Just because you touch me?
   Fucker!
   ----
   She lay there in silence.  Her mind silent, empty for a long time.
   Her heart softening:
   He could come with me.
   At that moment she heard him walk past her door, heard his door close.
She looked toward the wall separating them.
   Fuck, I'm never going to get to sleep tonight.  Her mind swirled to
being cornered with my back against the wall in the kitchen, his hands all
over me, and I playing along.  She felt her wetness trickle down her thigh,
and reached a finger and let it slide along her slit.  I felt his cock, and
her insides melted.  Tugging at her clit, pulling the little hood back. 
Ahhhhh, squeezing her thighs together, trapping her hand.  It feels so
fucking good.
   If I go, and he stays.  Let it go, I have to.  The itch lingering, she
rolled to her stomach.  But what if?  Daddy, came with me.  She pulled her
arms up over her head.  Would he?  Would he?  Cala began to cry.
   "Come with me." She spoke the words, and pushed herself to the edge of
the bed and sat up.
   I am going to spend the next two hours freaking the fuck out, sobbing
and crying and I've spent probably the last I don't know how many months
wavering back and forth between this is never going to work and maybe
somehow it can.  Tonight I definitely crashed straight through to "this
will never work" right into trying to plan how to make it work.  At least a
dozen times.  Fuck.  I've tried.  I want this.  I want this.  But if I'm so
focused, I'll be too vulnerable.  Is this a game to him?  A fucking game.
Drrrrr.  If he would move, we could live in the same house.  Same as here.
Then it's not a game, if he would do that, then I know.  Can I do this
without him?  And the one that kills me that I can't stop asking myself is,
is all this tangling and touching...where does it get me, where?  Where the
fuck am I, are WE?' Is this nothing?  Cause now, I love you Nickie.  Happy
now?
   I have to know.
   The light flipped on, and Cala slid out of bed, standing naked in front
of her full length mirror looking at herself.
   How fucking selfish am I?  Like, very, especially in the few days I've
been here at daddy's.  But...do I?  Really.  Do I?  Do I even love him?  In
that way.  Or am I just thinking with my cunt, the same as his little head?
Does HE want me?  Fuck, this isn't about love, its about not being a
fucking game.  Cause my heart is too invested now.  I got to know that.
   She opened her drawer and pulled on a pair of loose silk red panties,
and a red silk nightie, wiggling them down over her hips.  She looked in
the mirror again and wiped her eyes.
   I want one thing, to sleep with him one night.  To be with him one
night. Then I will know.  I have to talk with him, he has to hear me out.
Commitment.  Anything.  Tonight I'm like, have I been making the biggest
mistake of my life to date?  I'm not going to wait, if this is a fucking
game I'm not so sure I want to keep trying to make this work.
   Cala padded to her door, passed down the hallway to his door and with a
click slipped inside.
   Tonight she would sleep with him, one night.
   ****************************
   FRUSTRATED
   When Mark and I finally finished up, I went to my room.
   Alone.  Cala's door was closed, the lights out, she was in bed no doubt.
   A feeling of deflation, arousal, and guilt washed through my veins.  I
could feel my heart beating in my eyes.  Thinking about what we had done
right here in the house.  She was probably mad now, but in my mind I had to
hold some semblance of a center together.  My mind was muddling around,
trying to figure out how to navigate in a world where I am being sexual
with my daughter.
   Bottom line.  I needed to help Mark; and more than that, I can't let all
my behavior with Cala interfere with my other relationships.  I was still
committed to be a good dad.  It was my rationalization.  My behaviors have
not been the best, not reasonable, responsible.  I ran my hand through my
hair as I sat down on the bed, with this lingering frustrated guilt.  A lot
of things to keep track of, but at the end of the day, in my muddled
thinking, I want to be a good dad.  Cala had waited for me, patiently
waited for me.  The frustration I felt was palpable, I knew what I wanted
to do.  But I was not going to cut my time short with Mark, for what we
were going to do.  But I did not want to stop.
   Fuck.  I let my head hang down.
   It is what it is.
   So, with a sigh, I stripped and slid into bed, pulled the covers over
me. Exhausted, still trembling at my arousal, and lay in the darkness.  But
my mind swam, would not rest, going a million miles a minute.
   Whenever I closed my eyes I could see her, the way she moved, could turn
her body in my imagination.  The feel of her.  I knew the way her body
felt, the touch of her breasts, the soft downy hairs of her skin, the way
she slid against me this evening, could still feel her breath.  And in my
minds eye I could see her naked body.  She had such a similarity to Lisa; a
younger, thinner, narrower hipped Lisa.  Her soft skin, the delicacy of her
shoulder blades, the line of her ass, and the space between her legs, her
sex.  It was all visible to my imagining eye.  I had touched her, caressed
her, felt her bare skin, but she had not removed her clothing before me,
but I could SEE.
   I knew the color of her pussy, its trimmed bush, the shape of her cunny
lips.  Her small mouth, her beautiful smile, her breasts, their size and
shape, her almond eyes - that fire in them - so teasing, the line of her
mouth.  Her impish smile.  I fantasized about her, could not stop.  The
feel of her, the softness, imagining her legs opening, over and over.
   I thought about the fact she would be graduating, and leaving.  Cala
would be gone.  This play between us, the rising tension.  Her touching me
now, flirting, playing.  Her words.  'Pussy tames you good.' The
electricity, the rising tension.  How sexual was I willing to go?  She
asked me.  She wants this, I can feel it.  The way she looked at me
tonight, the dam has burst.  I did try to be normal around her, but the
normalcy of our touching one another had given way to me being unable to
identify what normal is anymore.  When she leaned against me downstairs
tonight, the heat between us, the feeling of her body.  Her small hands
stroking my shoulders, the way she tucked her hands into my belt.  Just her
smell sets me off now.
   Fuck.
   How I reached back and held her, stroked her thighs, cuped her pussy in
my hand.  How wet she was.  How she lets me do anything to her now.  She
let me play with her fingers, leaning in close and letting her lips graze
my neck.  It made me shudder, the feel of her breath at my neck.
   What will I do when she is gone?  I will be alone.  Does her forbidding
me seeing Lisa extend to when she is gone?  Taking away my fantasy of her.
   I felt alone, sad, depressed.  My chronic state for the last year.  She
was going, had already selected her college.  Her cryptic remark about
'always,' of course, she is already thinking about leaving.  She is weeks
from graduating.  She will leave home, find a job, find other (did I think
other?) lovers.  Am I?  It is only 400 miles away, but too far to go back
and forth.  She will be in a dorm.  Our 'relationship' cannot continue
anyway, whatever our current relationship is.
   It can't.
   *******************
   CAN I SLEEP WITH YOU TONIGHT?
   At some point I drifted off, and did not wake until I heard my name
whispered in the darkness.
   "Nickie?"
   I couldn't see, raising myself up and asked, "Wha...??" How had Lisa
gotten in the house?  I recognized her voice immediately.  Looking about
the room, "What are you doing in here?"
   I was reaching for the light, and at the exact moment the room
illuminated she said, "I never got my massage," as I blinked my eyes
focused on Cala standing by the door, her legs crossed, swaying back and
forth.
   "Cala, baby.  What you doing?" I put my hand to my face groggily, relief
that I had not used Lisa's name.  The sheet fell across my lap as I sat
myself up.
   She stepped nearer, whispering.  "Can I, stay here tonight?" I was
clutching the covers to me, "Just, tonight."
   Upon rousing further, realized I was naked.
   Stating the obvious, "Baby, I'm naked."
   "But, I'm not."
   She looked down at herself, which was a terribly unreasonable response
from her to accept, to let her in my bed.  I blinked at her, she was
standing there in a red nightie, I could tell in the low light how sheer it
was, and short, no more than an inch below her little puss.  What did she
have on under, anything?  Her dark hair fallen around her shoulders.  I
felt my cock grow hard at the sight of her.  It was useless to resist, but
I made my feeble attempt.
   "I...." I did not know what to say.  How about yes?  "Baby I...." my
voice failing, I wanted her there.  She was pulling the covers back,
crawling in bed with me!
   Cala melting any remaining resistance continued, "I just want to be with
you.  One night.  Just one.  Can you do that for me Nickie?"
   She never called me that before.  Lisa always called me Nickie. 
'Nickie.' Yes.  I wanted her there, it felt right.  We did not get to do
what we wanted.  She put her knee on the bed, waiting.  I slid over making
room, giving her my voiceless yes, felt the mattress compress as she
slipped under the covers.
   She slid toward me and I could feel her trembling.  Her eyes wide, I
could feel her nervousness.  As she moved close, I opened my arms enclosing
her.  She lay her head on my chest.
   I turned out the light, and her voice, "We can just sleep, OK?  I
couldn't sleep.  It's all I want, to be near you."
   We lay there in the darkness, feeling her warmth fill the bed.  Her
sweet perfume.  I did not know where to put my hands.  She was so soft, the
silk fabric wrapped around her, it felt like air or spiders webs clinging
to her body.  My cock was a pole as I lay on my back, Cala extended across
my chest at an angle, laying her head on my chest.  Her hair, her cheek so
warm.  She kissed my bare chest, it felt wet and wonderful.
   "I love you," she said in the darkness.
   "I love you too."
   I brought my arm around and lay it at her hip, running my fingers over
the curved bone and down the front of her thigh.
   And that was it.  We lay like that, still.  She was rubbing her check to
me like a cat getting comfortable, exhaling a contented sigh.  It felt OK,
almost normal.  So close.  I held to her and she lay with me, and I began
to accept that I was naked.
   Silence.
   ***************
   WE DIDN'T SLEEP
   Her hand lay on my chest, up by her cheek, and she began to slide her
hand down over my stomach.  It felt nice, I let her rub me.  Today she had
been rubbing me I thought, massaging my back.  Her fingers playing on my
skin.  It is fair.  What I have done to her.  I felt her hand drawing
circles over my navel, running her hand around my hips and lower.  I could
tell what she was up to.  Feeling my nakedness, her hand sliding over my
hips and onto my thighs.
   I opened my eyes and could see her looking at me.  The whites of her
eyes glowing, her chin on my chest now.
   "What are you doing?" I said low, with a slight rumble in my voice.
   "Just looking at you." Her hand drifting ever lower as she said that,
until I could feel her fingers playing in the hairs at my crotch.
   "Well, sleep." I did not remove her hand, which I believe she took as
permission.  Her hand found the base of my cock from the side, and moving
around studiously avoiding my pole.  I made no reference to where she was
touching me just then, her fingers edging along my balls.
   I looked at her again and growled, "I can feel your eyes."
   She giggled, "No you can't."
   -
   Silence again.
   Her hand continued to play, teasing around the base of my cock, if I had
felt hard before, it was agonizing what she was doing to me.  When!  Her
palm opened, and she lay it flat over my length, pressing it to my abdomen.
   I let out a low groan.  "Caa-laaaaa." God the pressure of her hand on my
bare cock.
   I raised my hips up in response, pressing myself into her hand.  Her
voice had this resonance now, her whole body felt hot.
   "Daddy?"
   "Baby...." I groaned.  My voice was pleading.  She squeezed her fingers
around the head of my cock.  I didn't know what to say.  She was pushing
down on my head.  I did not want to say stop, I did not want her too.  She
let me touch her anywhere and everywhere.  "Uh, oh, baby." I said it again.
What did I mean by It?  Perhaps my powerlessness.  Her hand pressed to me
in the darkness.
   She proceeded to have a normal conversation as she ran her fingers up
and down my length, stroking me, her fingers making out the shape of my
cock head, and grasping my balls in her hand, "I graduate in three weeks."
   "I know," I breathed.  My hip rolling and moving with her hand.
   "And, I'll be going to college.  And...." She let go my cock and hugged
herself to me, sliding along my side, scooting higher.  I turned to look at
her.  She continued, "...I'll miss you.  And...And, I don't want to go."
   I suddenly became fatherly.  The conversation almost sounded normal
except I was naked in bed with her and she had been fondling my cock.
   "Cala.  You won't be that far, we will stay in touch." I brought my arm
around her and squeezed.  She lay closer, bringing herself right up against
me, raising her leg and letting it drop between mine.  I could feel the
softness and shape of her body, my hand ran down her spine and lay at the
curve of her ass.  The intoxicating softness of her body.
   "It's 400 miles away." Her hand at my cock again.
   I breathed out, "You'll forget about me.  I mean...about this."
   She lifted her head, and looked right at me.  I detected a tear in her
voice, "I won't.  No, I won't." She held on so tight.  "I've already tried.
It's been such a terrible year daddy.  For you.  I'm so sorry you been so
hurt, I know how sad you've been."
   I didn't know what to say.  I had tried so hard.  She knew how I felt, I
hadn't hid a thing.  I felt bad, for everything.  Now I was making her not
want to even go to school.  I realized that this 'woman' who I was so
enamored with, lusting for (What am I even saying??) was laying here HERE
in bed with me.  Comforting ME.  She turned to me and we lay in that bed
nose to nose.  I loved her.
   God dammit, this isn't supposed to happen.
   And I simply had to say it, "I should not have..." and I did not need to
say more, my hand caressing her ass.  The way we touched now, the way we
clung together.  "Any of it."
   "Don't say that!  I let you.  I can't explain, I don't want to.  I
wanted to be there for you, to make things right.  To be the one.  I told
you that." Her hand drifting down again, she held the tip of my cock which
was sticking straight out and pushed at the head.  And then she said the
obvious, "You're so hard."
   "Oh, little girl." I groaned as she held me, "You will forget about me."
As I said that, I pressed my hands to her chest, feeling her breasts
through her nightie as she stroked my cock.  The feel of her tight little
nipples pressed into my palm.  Our bodies getting rapidly aroused, our
'sleep' interrupted.  Her nightie was riding up and my hand, drifting
lower, found her thighs and I caressed her, checking.  Thinking, what is
she wearing under this?  She was wearing a light and small pair of loose
fitting silk panties, giving plenty of access around her legs, not like
panties at all.  I could feel the hairs of her puss, and the crotch of her
panties hanging low between her legs.
   She lifted herself up, propping herself on an elbow looking at me close.
Her eyes sparkling in the darkness, and I could see her teeth.
   "Come with me."
   "Baby.  You know I can't."
   There was a pause between us,
   Her voice low, tears in her eyes, could feel them drop onto my chest. 
She persisted, "School is, expensive.  You could get a house and I could
stay with you.  It would save money." The reasonableness, she knew me.  It
did sound reasonable in my addled mind.  Us together.  Her housing costs
paying the mortgage.  "YOU would be my roommate.  I would be your secret.
No one would know."
   I let out a sigh.
   "What?" Her voice a question, with exasperation in it.
   "There's so much more to it than that.  I would have to ..."
   "But you want ME to go?"
   "Yes.  Go to school, to college.  Get on with..." She was crying. 
"I'll, I will miss you too."
   She was hugging me now, "Don't forget about me, and I won't forget."
   "Oh, baby.  But that's normal.  Hard as it is.  Baby, I'm so sorry."
   Her voice low in the dark, and broken, "I been so lonely.  Everything
changing, my senior year.  I hate what mom did to you, how she hurt you,
us. And I want to, to be there for you.  I love what happened.  What you
did.  Don't ever apologize.  I needed this.  I need you daddy.  It's
different, and you can.  Come with me, we could live together."
   The warmth between us was this wonderful little world we were laying in,
my bed covers and darkness.  Just two whispering voices in the dark, our
lips inches apart.  Our breaths mingling.
   "Cala, I think....you are the most beautiful girl, and your whole
life...I just...."
   She stopped me with a kiss, a lingering, deep kiss.
   After its initial surprise I responded.  She was still up on her elbow,
and she leaned in and kissed me.  Her eyes open, my eyes on hers.  We
kissed as we stared into each others eyes, a kiss that got hungrier as it
went on.  A kiss of lovers parting.  Her tears on my cheeks.  Our mouths
opening and our tongues touching.  Her leg rose higher over my thigh and I
held her closer, her hip tipping onto mine, laying on me.  My hard cock
pressing to her belly, I did not care.
   Her nightie had ridden up above her waist, and as I held her to me, was
holding her bare back.  Her abdomen pressing to my cock skin to skin.  Our
legs tangling together.  The warmth of our bodies feeding the other, our
skin, so soft, her young body.
   She held herself there, leaning to me, kissing.  When finally we
stopped, our sighs and warmth.  I let my hand run up beneath her nightie
and felt her bare skin.  What I had been doing for weeks.  She slid off me
and we turned toward each other, leaning our heads together.  She began to
touch and play with my cock, as I squeezed her breasts.
   I could feel her heart racing, my own hand trembling.  I let go.
   Reading my thoughts, she whispered, "I want to be sexual with you.  It's
OK.  Go on."
   I was so aroused now, my whole body on fire.  I ached for her.  Wanted
to feel her, kiss her, see her.  I leaned in and kissing her as I so
softly, luxuriously rubbed all over her, felt her, pressed my fingers into
her soft flesh.  Our heads turned toward one another, we could feel our
warm breath between us.  I pinched lightly at her nipples, heard this
sudden little growl.  Her hand reached back around me and rubbing my back
and ass.  I felt so strong as I lay next to her little body.  Rolling her
onto her back beneath my kisses.
   She was turning her mouth to my ear and whispered to me, "Just think
about it daddy.  We can.  We can do it you know."
   "Baby, I will."
   The darkness left nothing to the imagination, I could feel the ridges of
her little nipples as they tightened against my chest, lay my hand on one
breast and then the other, tracing a line back and forth letting my hand
fall into the little valley between and rise up the other side.  I traced
another line up to her neck and touched her bare skin, wrapping my fingers
around her throat, could feel her breathing, the pulse of her heart.
   I just said, "Your heart is pounding."
   She cooed, "Hmmm Hmmm." Her eyes were closed, as she lay there, she had
fallen back into the pillow with her arms were stretched over her head. 
"You can do anything to me, any time you want.  Anywhere you want."
   I reached up and turned on the light.  She continued to lay on the bed
with her arms raised.  The covers up to her waist and the nightie lay just
below her breasts.  Her hair spread out on the pillow.  She did not move,
looking so relaxed laying there in the low light.
   "I want to see you."
   She did not move, laying there expectant.
   Her arms were already raised and I took the nightie by its hem and began
to pull it up.  She arched her back and sat up a little and I lifted it
over her head.  Her luxurious bare body, her breasts exposed, lay flat on
her chest.  The white skin, I could see faint traces of tan lines.  Her
breasts whiter than the rest of her torso.
   I traced my fingers down from her neck and began touching, squeezing her
breasts some more, lightly, softly, feeling around to their side,
everywhere, reaching up under her arms.  Listening to her soft breathing as
she lay there, turning her body this way and that.  She turned her head,
letting me.  I could see her breasts and front down to her waist for the
first time.
   As I touched her she cooed out, "This is nice."
   I was laying there thinking this is not happening.
   How can this be?
   It was a moment frozen in my memory that can never be repeated, only
remembered over and over.  I could see her, her narrow waist.  I tugged the
covers lower exposing the little red panties, the flare of her hips and the
way she lay with her arms over her head, enjoying my eyes on her.  Her
beautiful eyes framed in dark hair.
   I could barely breath.  Her eyes still on me as I let my hand drift
down, lower, lower, tugging the covers down to her knees.  Lay my hand
lightly over her abdomen.  I was sitting by her side now, naked, leaning
over her, looking, drinking her in with every sense.  My thumb touched her
navel, and drawing my hands over the concave space between her hips.  I
felt her touch my arm, but that is all.  I drew a line along the edge of
her panties, and tugged them lower, until the dark hairs of her puss began
to peak out.
   I slid them lower, slowly, so slowly, tipping my fingers beneath her
bottoms, those loose fitting bottoms gave way, the thin fabric let me; I
could feel the soft hairs coarsening to her
   pubic hairs.  Tugging her bottoms lower I until her bush was exposed
between her legs, as I ran my fingers through her bush.  She didn't move.
Held her eyes closed.  I felt her legs opening slightly, she was going to
let me.  Yield.  I could hear her sighing as I touched the rise of her
pussy, her mound.  Tugging her panties down and off, she lifting her legs
as I tugged them down around her ankles and off.  I began to play softly
with her pussy.  The tangle of hairs pressing between my fingers, I could
feel the line of her, its heat, and I curled my fingers right between her
legs, and held there just like that for a long time before I let my hand
move again.  She lifted one knee higher, giving me full access.  Taking in
every sense of the moment.  She lay like that for me, the slightest smile
on her face, stretching as I touched her.  Like a cat.
   I began to move my hand, to stroke her little puss back to front, back
to front, so gentle over and over, her hips undulating rocking lightly
beneath me.  I could feel her hairs tickling
   along my hand, feel the line between her pussy lips and I pressed a
finger there.  I lay myself down by her side, and lay my leg between hers.
Pressed and felt her opening pussy, her wetness as she opened up, touching
her liquid center.
   She was so wet, I felt my finger dip right into her, all resistance
gone. Her inner pussy lips began to swell out and lay in folds outside her.
The loose flesh, she was so wet, so aroused, rocking her hips around as I
pressed into her, rubbing her reaching back, feeling my finger dip into
her. And I let my hand reach back into her, feeling that space opening, and
pressing my finger in, not far, just the tip of my middle finger pressing
right into her vagina.  Oh my God!  Oh my sweet god.  I wanted her.  The
tip of my cock was at her hips, engorged, and aching.
   I pressed my middle finger in between her legs, her mouth opened,
"Ahhhhh, ahhhh." She stiffened at my intrusion, my hands on her.  She
opened her eyes, looking at me, her liquid eyes in the low light.  We were
both naked.
   She lay there with legs open, silent, breathing deep, her heart
pounding. Her hair as it lay spread out on the pillow.  The heat between
us. Our smell.  Her hand was now tugging at my cock, pulling at me.  Her
hips were reaching, I could feel her move around my finger.  I heard her
suck in her breath as I did that.  And then, I paused.  I just held my hand
there a moment, my finger dipping into her.  I had a single moment thinking
this was too much.  And willing myself, I let my hand drift higher leaving
her pink slit and back back onto just her pussy mound, when I felt her hand
lay right at her crotch holding the back of my hand.
   Her eyes half open, she looking at me, "Keep doing that."
   I looked at her.
   She pressed her hand, held me there, "It's OK," and she closed her eyes
again, let go her hand.  I began to rub her pussy again with the palm of my
hand, insinuate my finger into her, running them through her center. 
Occasionally letting my hand rise up over her front and back down again. 
Finding her clit again.  This little nob, its little hood.  She jumped when
I touched her there, I could see a smile, her soft moan.
   "Oh...yeah," I had never heard her voice sound like that.  This low coo,
such a female moan.  My little cat in heat.
   And as she relaxed back into my bed I rubbed her clit, Her hips rocking
and turning around my finger, guiding me showing me in the silence where
and how to touch her.  She was turning her head and pressing herself to me.
I felt her hand wrap around my cock, stroking me, gripping me tight.
   I froze, she cooed again, "This OK?"
   I could not speak just nodded, as we played with one another.  I
pressing another finger into her spreading her vagina open, sliding deep
into her and drawing circles around her clit with my thumb.  She tugging
and rubbing my cock with her hand, laying her thumb right over the top of
my cockhead.  The rhythm of her hips followed perfectly the rhythm of my
hands on her, undulating forward and back, her whole body was sliding and
moving against me.
   Leaving unspoken whether we would fuck.  Our bodies drawing us close.
   Her hand found the tip of my cock and was sliding the wetness from its
tip around, letting her thumb rub up and down my length.  We were pressing
closer together, and I was quickening my strokes on her as she met my every
move.  Began whimpering, licking her lips, pressing hard into my hand, and
bucking against me.  I was laying by her side now, and she turned her head
and we pressed our lips together, simply rubbing them lightly over one
another.  She stuck her tongue out and we lightly touched our tongues.  She
smiled, our hands roaming over the other.  Becoming one.
   My finger was pressed as far as it could up into her, and I insinuated
another finger.  Oh god, she was so tight.  And I crushed into her puss,
her cunny this wet open mouth against my hand, my thumb pressing around her
clit.  I wanted her, I wanted to lay on her and fuck her.  I was pressing
my cock through her hands as wrapped her fingers around me, in a fucking
motion as my fingers matched the movement of my cock through her hand.  We
masturbated together.  Her legs were stiffening, she was arching her back
and I continued with my steady strokes on her body, harder and harder,
pressing into her clit.  "Ah, ah, ah.  Oh god.  Oh Nickie."
   And then she let go me, and moved herself away.  She rolled to me and
wrapping her arms around me pressed her whole body to me and we were
kissing again.  I rolled onto her and she was looking up at me, my hard
cock lay right over her navel.  She looked down between us and then up in
my eyes.  Nothing said, but the question.  The question.
   You going to do it?
   All she said was, "We being a little bit Naughty."
   My chest lifted above her, my hands on each side of her, "You OK?"
   "I'm, great." Her impish smile.
   I could smell her, her sex.  It was so delicious.  And then she was
lifting herself and I let myself fall to her side, my bare cock touched her
leg and she grasped my cock again.  I could see the white of her eyes, and
then the white of her teeth.
   "I want to try something."
   She kissed me soft, briefly on the lips, and her smile again.
   The covers were down around us, I saw her looking at my cock.
   The look of her as she did.
   *****************
   SIXTY NINE
   She rolled me onto my back, as I readily complied.  Her small hands
pressing me back.  I lay there as Cala's leg swung over my head, fascinated
as her open legs sat down over my face.  She was on all fours, crouching
low, with her ass in the air, her naked pussy settling down onto my lips.
At the same time I felt her mouth opening around my cock.
   Oh fuck.  Jesus, unbelievable.
   I could not contain my heartbeat.  I felt the weight of her tummy
touching mine, laying on me in reverse, sucking my cock into her mouth.
   The smell of her pussy, her wiry hairs at my lips.  The smell of a musky
cinnamon, of sweet honey, spring earth, and her wet slippery juices.  I
pressed my tongue to lick her and as I touched between her legs felt her
body jump, lifting her ass up before lowering herself again slowly into my
waiting mouth.  She pressed down against my tongue letting me lick her
cunt. My hips undulating as I met her mouth, her teeth on me, a feeling as
if she were smiling.
   Her legs squeezing tightly around my head, her hips sliding up and down
as I lapped at her, slow long licks.  Looking I could see up her naked
back, I could see the pucker of her little ass.  Her moans now as she
danced on me, her body so amazing, a dancers body.  God she could move.  I
could feel how hot she was, her pussy lips swollen and so wet.  In reverse
as I licked her clit, my nose pressed into her vagina, and the soft loose
lips rubbing my face.  Lapping at her, her juices running down over my
lips, her little bush tickling my chin.  I grasped her hips as I became
more aroused and pulled her down, moved her how I wanted.  My little fuck
toy.
   Sometimes I noticed I could not breathe, her legs and pussy pressed so
tight against me, but it did not stop me.  She was pumping on my cock
faster, in reaction to my tongue drawing circles on her clit.  She was
moving, moving herself to get it just right.  Our moans and squeaks.  Cala
continued to move on my face, long strokes, guiding me, but focusing on her
little clit.  I could hold my tongue out stiff and feel herself moving
against me.  When her strokes on my cock found a rhythm that froze me in
place, feeling as if she were bringing me to orgasm.  Oh god, and my thighs
began trembling.
   Her pussy so wet and hot, licking faster.  I was overwhelmed, my body
trembling and hungry.  I wanted to turn her over and fuck her.  I wanted to
be inside her.  Cala was writhing over me now, her body stiffening.  I
licked faster, smearing her juices all over my face.  God, she was moving
up and down, her female voice a fire for me, my growls and our bodies wet
with a sheen of sweat.
   Her body trembled and I grasped her thighs, moved her beside me.  She
let go my cock, my rock hard cock.  Looking at me with wide eyes and
turning her I lay her onto her back, she lay back with her arms above her.
I was going to fuck her, she letting me pull her legs open and felt me
laying down on her skin to skin.
   Her head rolled back as I brought my cock up between her legs and pushed
right inside.
   "Ahhhh.  Nickie.  You??" She panted.
   "Fucking my little girl.  What you wanted?"
   "Oh god, yes." I brought myself up above her and plunged inside again.
   "Hungry, girl?" I whispered.
   She was just about crying, and I moved over her, fucking into my little
girl.  She began to whimper and pant and at one point I held her close and
whispered, "Cala, baby, you have to be quiet.  Mark."
   She had her eyes closed tight, "S'all right.  He's sleeping or listening
to music."
   She clamped her legs around my hips and began to buck against me hard.
   "You like fucking me daddy?  Nickie."
   "Yes."
   "Call me your good little girl." Shaking herself, her clit digging in,
"I want to be good, do what you ask."
   "Mmmm, yes, fucking my good little girl."
   "I can be bad too.  What then?"
   "Then I punish you."
   "Oh, promises."
   Her voice a delicious growl.
   I was so hot, began riding her harder.  The bed was making some noise
now, and I slowed again, held myself deep inside.  Our eyes on each other.
Her mouth open.
   I was sliding in long slow strokes, she was looking at me and said,
"Fuck me any time you want daddy.  Come in my room, put your hand in my
dress."
   I was sliding in and out long and slow, she was holding my arms as I
rode her, our hips pressing together.  Her head thrown back and then
pressing her hands down on my chest feeling me rise and fall on her.
   "You like my pussy?  My cunt."
   "Uh, oh yeah, Oh god!" And I grabbed her ass finding her little ass, and
began stroking my thumb through her crack.  She squeezed my hand.
   "Oh, so bad, you can be so bad." And I pressed my finger into her little
rosebud as I fucked her, feeling her body tighten.
   "Ohhhhhh." She panted out.
   "Shhhhh" I was holding her tight to me, fucking her from the front and
behind, her slippery little cunt taking me in.
   "I'm going to cum in you." And I pulled her tight against me so her clit
was rocking along my shaft, faster and faster.  I rode her until the bed
rocked and her moans and cries filled the room.  She was whimpering, "I'm
your best little cunt."
   "Make me cum," I moaned.
   "Oh yeah, cum in me.  That's right, cum in me."
   Cala began trembling, "Fuck me.  Fuck me." And then I could feel my cum
rising as I held to her.
   Cala was smiling.  Her belly was wet with sweat and I slid easily on
her, as I pounded into her, had my hands cradled under her ass, almost
holding her up in the air and she was lifting her legs up and out her knees
touching my back.
   She was panting, I could feel myself coming, ribbons of come.  Wave
after wave.
   I breathed out, growled.  "Oh God.  I'm cumming."
   And she gripped me so tightly, and her body went rigid, trembling, I
could feel an orgasm shudder through her body.  I rolled to her side, still
cumming facing each other my hips bucking against her.  She was panting,
"Ahhh Ahhh so sensitive!"
   I cradled her head in my hand, wiped the hair out of her eyes stroked
her chin and kissed her deeply.  We kept kissing, then rolled to our sides.
   "Wow!  Shit.  Jesus."
   I was still inside her, could feel her clutching cunt, squeezing and
gripping me.  The agony of desire, and want had been building for months.
Now spent, our bodies had become utterly one, delicious, naked and
disheveled.
   With eyes closed, she whispered out "Stay there, I want to feel you. 
God, you feel so good.  I want you in my pussy, I want to feel your cock in
my pussy."
   I pressed to her and we lay like that as long as we could, until I felt
the head my cock slip into her, with a little pop, felt her close around my
tip.
   She hugged me tight just then, laying down on me.  Pressing her breasts
to me.
   I held to her, she was trembling, as I held her to me.  She lay like
that a long while.  I could hear her breathing.  She did not move.  Was she
all right?  Now it was over.  I knew what she could be thinking.  The
worry. The concern.  The thinking part, rising.
   She lifted her head from me finally, and turned the light off, settling
into the bed, she whispered to me.  "We did it."
   "Yes."
   "Oh my god.  We fucked." She hugged me again, and pulled away holding
her hand over the bush of her puss.  We looked down at our naked bodies. 
She laughed, saying again "Oh my god."
   "You feel so good."
   We finally fell asleep.
   *****************
   MORNING
   The rays of sun slanted into the room, warming the white sheet that
covered us.  I opened my eyes looking over at Cala sleeping innocently next
to me, naked.  Her shoulders bare where her arms lay over the sheet.  I
reached my hand over to feel her bare hip and moved myself in a manner
which tugged the sheet low and I could view her from the side, her breasts
tucked into the mattress.  She was so fucking beautiful.
   In another moment, probably sensing my movement, her eyes opened and she
smiled.
   "Good morning." Her low delicate voice.
   "Good morning to you." I kissed her on the forehead, and turning her
mouth to me I found her lips.  It was a soft quick little kiss.  "You
better get to your room."
   Her eyes wide, and she sat up letting the sheet fall away.  Her bare
narrow waist, she turned to the edge of the bed.  Her tight little ass, and
she was rummaging for her nightie.
   "I better put this on, can't go walking naked from your room can I."
   She stood bent over facing me, and I marveled at the ease of her
nakedness before me.  I sat upright and touched her hip again.  She paused
and stood by the edge of the bed.  I never wanted this to end, never wanted
her to leave.  She had on only the top camisole of her nightie, and let me
stroke her hips, curving in over her abdomen and brushing over her little
tight bush.
   She stepped back away, "I'm a bit of a mess." and danced out of the
room.
   -
   At breakfast Mark was eating some cereal and I looked at him guiltily,
wondering.
   Cala came in and poured some milk.  She noticed me watching Mark and
came over by me.
   "I already checked, he WAS listening to music last night." And she
touched her nose as she said it.
   We got away with it.
   I sat down, my legs suddenly weak, taking it all in.  My body still
glowing from the night before.
   At one point she leaned near me whispering, "I'm going to sleep in your
bed again tonight."
   Our eyes met, it was not a question.
   **********************
   MY HAPPIEST DAY EVER
   So, I tell this story and you wonder what did I do?
   Well, this story gets to end happily.  I did indeed move, was able to
transfer my job, buy a house.  It was all under the auspices of saving
money, and making it possible for Mark to go to college at the same time.
Cala and I lived in the same house while she went to school.  We slept in
the same bed, and lived together as lovers within the confines of our
little world.  We are still together.
   My bit of remaining guilt led me to continue to pay a larger alimony
than I was required to compensate for my absence, and I also made a very
regular practice of visiting Mark, making the long journey frequently.
   And so we did live together, and she did have daddy issues.  She was
always my little girl and I was always her daddy.  Coming home in the
afternoon, when she was in the mood, leaning against the wall on the floor.
Her legs akimbo in a little skirt, a sly smile on her face.
   I'd sit by her, "What you doing."
   "Dunno daddy."
   And my hands on her, sliding along her leg finding the edge of her
skirt. "Let me make you more comfortable." She holding her knees apart, a
little sigh.  And reaching I grasp the edge of her panties and tug.  She
lifting her ass from the floor watching me pull them off her legs.
   "Mmm, that's my good girl." And tugging her forward toward the carpeting
near the sofa.  "Push your little bottom up for daddy." And she letting me
pull her along, and positioning herself on all fours.
   "You were waiting for Daddy to come tuck you in weren't you?"
   And she can hear my belt, looking back.  I lift the skirt over her back
exposing her sweet brunette pussy.  And letting my cock slide between her
legs.  "You like it when Daddy rubs you little girl?"
   "Ahhh, god."
   "What you do today," still sliding my cock on her.
   "I had a test."
   "How did you do." As I pushed my cock up inside her.  Hissing a bit,
"Yesss.  that's it good little girl."
   Her legs parting for me, taking me all in.
   "I think I did all right," her head dropping low.
   "That's good."
   "I think I bumped against you a little hard daddy."
   "That's all right."
   "That's my good girl, rub your little cunny on Daddy's cock.  Yes. 
That's it."
   "Oh god I wanted it.  Lets go to the room."
   We fall apart and move to the bedroom.  A king sized mattress on the
floor.  The bed frame has not arrived yet.  I remember it so perfectly. 
Boxes against the one wall, having not unpacked yet.  She sits on that
mattress and I pull off the rest of her clothes, and then she tugs my pants
off, unbuttons my shirt.  It was a warm and sunny day.  Her dark hair, the
flash of her eyes.  Our home, just us, alone.  Being together, still so
fucking horny for each other.
   When the phone rings, and she lays back on the bed.
   It is Lisa, and so I answer.
   "Hi."
   She asks, "When are you coming again to see Mark?"
   A coordinating call, "Next weekend.  Is that all right?"
   Cala is pressing me back into the pillows and I let her move me how she
wants as I talk.
   "Yeah," there is a pause.  "It was.  I was wondering if you would have
any time to..."
   Cala was straddling my thighs now and running her puss along my length.
She was smiling, hearing Lisa on the phone.
   So fucking good, and I would be lying if I did not say revenge is sweet.
   "Yes." I was toying with her now.
   Cala mouthing 'you're so bad.'
   "If we might have some time, together."
   "I don't know Lisa."
   "It's been so long."
   "I thought you didn't want to take the risk anymore."
   "Nickie."
   And Cala at that moment lifted herself up, impaling me.  I lay a hand at
her hip.
   "I think it's time we moved on."
   "I want you so bad.  I've been a good little girl."
   The pout, I had little girls all around me, little fishes.  My body
tense with the thumping of Calas pussy riding my cock.  Her tits bouncing,
her wicked grin.
   Mmmmmm.
   My best day ever.
   pics---->> http://bit.ly/1D1q3qp 
  
TheBigBag