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                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                        Published Monthly

                       through the Internet













          NOT TO BE READ BY ANY PERSON UNDER THE AGE OF 18 


         Setting the pagelength of your printer to 70 lines
         should produce a ready-to-ready print-out, but in 
         the event of file-corruption, "ELECTRA MAGAZINE" 
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         Merrill, Castle and Gray (UK)
         e-mail: `mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'





                               EDITORIAL

                               ~~~~~~~~~


           Bringing  in  its  wake, much  untoward  publicity  of 
         pedophile  and  pornographic activities  and  inevitably 
         drawing  activities on the Internet into  scrutiny,  the 
         first  unwelcome signs of reaction to public  unrest  at 
         the Belgian sex-scandal have started to appear.


           Currently  unveiling 4 murders, with 20 persons  being 
         arrested  and  a  top-level  enquiry  being  ordered  to 
         establish  the degree of involvement and  corruption  in 
         the  Belgian  Police Department, and with  the  imminent 
         arrest  of a Government Minister in the off-ing,  it  is 
         obvious that media `shock/horror' attention is not going 
         to  die-away  in  the  short  and  medium-term   future.     
         Apart  from the coincidental closing-down of  the  well-
         used  `anon@penet.fi', in the scandal's wake,   European 
         Police  authorities are campaigning for the  closure  of 
         some  newsgroups,  mainly amongst  those  having  sexual 
         connotations,  with the Head of Obscene Publications  at 
         Scotland Yard specifically itemising 120 of them.


           With  a number of American servers  already  operating 
         censorship,  (CompuServe amongst others)  to  counteract 
         criticism, forestall possible future pressure and in  an 
         effort to be seen to be self-policing,  the largest News 
         Serving  Company  in the UK, Messrs.  Demon  Ltd.,  have 
         side-stepped  the main issue by volunteering  to  freely 
         supply  software to Customers who desire to restrict  to 
         what newsgroups their family can subscribe.


           Seen by other Police Authorities as the first move  in 
         -  for them - right direction, they regard it  as  being 
         the  `thin  edge  of  the wedge'  for  which  they  have 
         searched,  and  with  which they hope  to  persuade  and 
         pressure  newservers  to take  responsibility  for  what 
         passes through their hardware.


           Owing to geographic and legislative difficulties,  the 
         ultimate  aim to force most sex-related groups from  the 
         Net  being impracticable, and seeing adverse  propaganda 
         as  being  the  most, if not only,  effective  means  of 
         uniting public opinion, governments throughout the world 
         are seizing the Belgian affair as a monumental megaphone 
         to  highlight  their  cause, and  as  a  direct  result, 
         subscribers  to news-servers on a world-wide  basis  can 
         expect  many more months of adverse  comment,  criticism 
         and  possible  interference  of  the  Internet  and  its 
         workings.


           Already, such groups  dedicated to a particular  topic 
         such as alt.sex.stories, alt.sex.incest and others  have 
         seen a marked decrease in postings of stories and binary 
         files,  and  many still appearing are  `old-blood',  old 
         files  being re-posted.   Together with an  ever-growing 
         plentitude   of  commercial  advertisements  causing   a 
         general decrease in interest in such groups, although no 
         doubt surviving particularly in the short-term,  quality 
         and quantity of content will continue to suffer.


           Likely  to  find themselves under pressure,  in  their 
         eagerness  to  be  seen  to  be  obtaining  results   in 
         `stamping  out'  alleged  pornography,   definitely   to 
         become  worse  before becoming better, being  likely  to 
         pursue  the  line of obtaining  easy  (and  inexpensive) 
         results, law-enforcement agencies concentrating  on easy 
         targets,  with  the tiny seeds  of  news-group  poster's 
         paranoia  rapidly  multiplying, to maintain  secure  and 
         free communications, this Company advises collectors  of 
         files and binaries to make use of anonymous remailers as 
         a matter of course.   


           To  ease  this,  along  with  our  own  facilities  as 
         described elsewhere, in this edition, we give details of 
         other, reputable addresses supplying this service.


           The Editor  


           October 1996













         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+

           Definition  of Censor: One who chews our meat  for  us 
         and decides what we should spit out. -- Colin Bowles







                               OVERHEARD


                            Author Unknown

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


           I'd had a case of the flu, and finally gave up  trying 
         to work about noon, came home, and crawled into bed with 
         the  lights out. The front door woke me just  enough  to 
         hear  my  wife's voice, and to see  Jackie's  arm  reach 
         through  the  bedroom door as she tossed her coat  on  a 
         chair  without looking. I tried to clear my head  enough 
         to call out that I was there, but before I could get  my 
         mouth open I heard my wife's first sentence, and decided 
         to stay "asleep." 


           "So  tell  me about his cock." Not exactly  words  you 
         expect to hear from your wife. Who the hell could she be 
         talking to? 


           I knew the voice that answered. It was Terri  Johnson. 
         She  and  Bob  have been living next to  us  for  a  few 
         months,  and we've become friends, more the  girls  than 
         Bob and I. Maybe one of the reasons I haven't been  able 
         to  get friendly with him is Terri. I love  Jackie,  but 
         Terri  is  one of the sexiest chicks I know,  with  that 
         tiny  body and those big tits. I can get a hard-on  just 
         watching her walk. And seeing how much she and Bob  love 
         each  other, I don't know, maybe it's guilt that's  kept 
         me reserved around him. 


           Now she and Jackie are talking about cocks and sex and 
         things, and that voice is getting me going anyway, never 
         mind the topic. 


           She's saying this guy had such a giant tool she  could 
         get both hands around it, and still have two inches left 
         to suck on. And his balls, from the way she was  telling 
         it, were as big and as hard as baseballs. 


           I  hadn't  thought  Bob  Johnson  would  be   carrying 
         equipment  like  that.  But it had to  be  him  she  was 
         talking  about, I figured, the way they felt about  each 
         other. 


           But  then  she  starts talking about  how  she'd  been 
         surprised  at  how he ate her. She said  she  loved  his 
         cock,  and he was a great fuck, but he didn't know  shit 
         about eating her pussy. I didn't get it. Was she telling 
         Jackie about some time she went out cheating? I couldn't 
         believe  she would, and maybe I couldn't  help  thinking 
         that,  if she'd gone with this other guy, I  might  have 
         had  a  chance.  Not  that I  would  have,  not  with  a 
         neighbour, but I couldn't help wondering what would have 
         happened. 


           Jackie broke in, telling her how good I used my mouth. 
         Hey,  I knew she liked my tongue, but I never figured  I 
         deserved  the sort of raves she was giving me.  My  head 
         started  to  swell,  and  that  wasn't  the  only  thing 
         growing. My cock was already sticking out the top of  my 
         shorts. 


           Anyway, according to Terri, whoever it was  apparently 
         made  up  for his oral failure when it came  to  getting 
         down  to  the main event. She said how  she  never  felt 
         anyone  get deeper into her from the front, and the  way 
         he rammed her, she didn't dare try to take him from  the 
         rear. 


           Jackie  asked her what would have happened if the  guy 
         had  wanted her ass. Terri laughed and  shivered.  There 
         was  no way she could take him there. Damned  if  Jackie 
         didn't brag that she could have, easy. 


           She  had to be kidding. Okay, so she likes it  when  I 
         give  it to her up the brown chute, and I'm pretty  well 
         hung, but this guy was a monster. Besides, what the hell 
         was she doing even thinking about it? 


           The  next question Jackie had was where Bob  was  when 
         all  this was going on. I figure Terri'll say he was  at 
         the office, or away on a trip. No, Bob was right  there, 
         sucking  her  tits while she was getting  balled,  "just 
         like  usual"  except this time he got so turned  on  she 
         just  had to blow him while the other guy  was  pronging 
         her. 


           Then  my  goddamn  wife  says she  wished  she  had  a 
         relationship like that with me. Fat chance. The Johnsons 
         might be weirdos and perverts, but we weren't. At  least 
         I'm  not. I wasn't so sure about Jackie, not  after  how 
         she was saying she wished she'd been there watching  the 
         three of them. 


           Then  my  neighbour tells her that  maybe  they  could 
         arrange it the next time the guy is in town. Then  maybe 
         my  wife could put her ass where her mouth  was.  Jackie 
         laughed  that  she'd be putting her  ass  where  Terri's 
         mouth  was.  But no, "I guess I really  couldn't."  Damn 
         right she couldn't. "I mean, I've never cheated on  Bill 
         before." Well, I knew that. "At least not really."  Huh? 
         "I mean you can't count those guys at the convention, or 
         that  one  time  with Jerry. And Julian  was  the  night 
         before our marriage, and maybe I shouldn't have done it, 
         but  Julian was the best lover I ever had. He could  get 
         me  off  faster than anybody I've ever known.  I  wasn't 
         even that late for dinner with Bill and the folks." 


           What  the fuck was I hearing? I grabbed the covers  to 
         keep  from  running out there and asking her.  But  then 
         Terri  suggests they make a bet. Christ, they set it  up 
         so that Terri can come over that weekend, and  Jackie'll 
         give her a couple of hours to make a play. If Terri  can 
         get me to fuck her, to cheat on Jackie, then Jackie will 
         come  to one of their orgies. If I turn her  down,  then 
         she'll stay faithful. 


           Goddamn it, what am I going to do? I mean, forget  the 
         bet  and  the weird shit. Terri's the  hottest  chick  I 
         know. I've had dreams about her during Jackie's periods, 
         and a couple of times I woke up so goddamn near I had to 
         go ahead and jerk myself off. 


           I  mean,  I never would have done something,  I  don't 
         think.  Not with a neighbour, not even if her  Goddamned 
         husband was there telling me to go ahead. (Well, maybe I 
         thought about it when Jackie was talking about the other 
         guys  she  had. Shit I wish I dared ask her  about  that 
         convention.  What "guys?" Did she mean she picked  up  a 
         couple  of guys, or she had them at the same time?  But, 
         hell,  I've  done a couple of things I  never  told  her 
         about  either. But mostly it was just hookers, not  real 
         women.) 


           At  least  I would never have really tried to  make  a 
         pass at Terri, but hell if she started things, I'm  only 
         human.  Hell,  just writing this makes me think  of  the 
         things  she might try, and I'm hoping I can get  through 
         this without needing a tissue. 


           And  Terri's saying how, even if they hadn't made  the 
         bet, she would have wanted me anyhow, that I turned  her 
         on,  and  the time, Christ, she saw me slip out  of  the 
         pool  to take a piss in the bushes. She says  she  liked 
         the look of my dick even then. And Jackie isn't even mad 
         or anything. She even is teasing her about being chicken 
         for  not going over and grabbing me, says she  remembers 
         how  horny I was, even I couldn't have stayed  stuck  up 
         that day. 


           She  says she hopes she does make it with me. Sure  so 
         she could go to the fuck party. No, its more than  that. 
         She  says  I'm always a lot calmer and happier  after  I 
         cheated on her. In fact, she's giving Terri tips on  how 
         to  get  me into bed. Wear a headband, she says.  And  I 
         never  noticed,  but she's right. If a  chick's  wearing 
         one, I'll start getting interested, and flirt, and  make 
         a pretty serious play. Even that one hooker. I'd sworn I 
         wasn't going to do anything that one trip, but she  came 
         around with that cloth around her forehead, and I had to 
         buy some of her time. 


           Then  my wife's telling her what she should wear,  and 
         how she should stroke my arm, and it's like it's a scene 
         they're rehearsing and I'm going to be the star. 


           Now  she's even telling her how I like to  be  sucked, 
         and  Terri's  asking  if I  like  getting  deep  throat. 
         Jackie's never managed to do it, so how would she  know? 
         Oh  fuck,  I forgot that time with Margaret.  She's  the 
         only one who ever did it. And Jackie knew all about  it, 
         even  the details, the week after it happened. And  they 
         stayed  friends  for years until Margaret  moved  across 
         country. 


           What the fuck am I going to do? If she does show up, I 
         won't  be able to resist. I'm going to have  wet  dreams 
         about  her all week. I mean, I can just see  those  tits 
         sticking through her shirt, and that bit about  changing 
         into  her  bathing suit and leaving the  door  open.  It 
         would have been bad enough if she was just doing it, but 
         I'm  going  to know it isn't an accident and  why  she's 
         doing  it, and know that if I walk in, her cunt will  be 
         open, wet, and waiting for me. 


           Shit, it's even worse. I just worked it out.  Jackie's 
         period's starting on Thursday, and I'll have a couple of 
         days worth of come in my balls. But if I let her  seduce 
         me,  I'll be telling Jackie to go freak off  with  them. 
         The  next thing I know, she'll be wanting me to go  over 
         and watch her getting screwed. 


           No,  she's the one who wants to watch. If Terri  balls 
         me,  she wants her to set it up so she can watch us  the 
         next time. The next time? 


           What the fuck am I going to do? 


                                 THE END

         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+





                            "THE BEST POLICY"

                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                              FOR NEW READERS

           Revealing  and dealing with often  unthought-of  side-
         issues  thrown  up in the wake of incest,  part  of  the 
         true-account `Case-Book Series', "The Best Policy" is  a 
         full-length,  ten-part, full-length `docurama'.   For  a 
         full  list of other accounts in this series, see  e-mail 
         details below.


           The story:


           Whilst staying with the family of his  happily-married 
         daughter,  Pam, caught in compromising circumstances  at 
         the  bedside of his grand-daughter, Paula,  to  Steven's 
         great  surprise,  after  a  family  conference  where  a 
         promise  is extracted from him that he will mention  the 
         incident  to  no-one, he is permitted  to  stay.    That 
         evening,  12-yr-old  Paula attempts to  seduce  him  and 
         Steven  discovers the motive for the promise - his  son-
         in-law, Roger, is involved in a sexual relationship with 
         her.

           The  following morning, confessing she also finds  the 
         prospect  of incestuous love very appealing,  Pam  tells 
         her  father that the marriage is a sham,  and  concerned 
         Paula is running wild, whilst thinking of leaving Roger, 
         she is desperately unhappy.   Steven agrees to help.

           Meantime,  sensing a threat from  his  father-in-law's 
         presence and although resisted by Pam, Roger has changed 
         his mind.

           Is Steven's attitude right that loving his family is


                            "THE BEST POLICY"

                             (Chapter Seven)

                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


           As  Steven entered the drawing-room, Roger  jumped  up 
         with  a glare and stormed out.   Listening with head  to 
         one  side,  Pam followed his footsteps thumping  up  the 
         stairs  and  with  a slam of  the  door,  enter  Paula's 
         bedroom.   Anxiously, she looked at her father.   "Which 
         room is Paula in?"


           "Fast  asleep in her own bed," smiled Steven,  sitting 
         down.    Seeing  Pam's questioning stare, he  shook  his 
         head.    "No," he said.   "This is one step at  a  time.   
         She is, however, happily exhausted.   It's very unlikely 
         she will welcome Roger's attentions."


           "But you didn't...?", enquired Pam.


           "No, I didn't have to," said Steven.  He smiled again.   
         "Though  she is currently a very contented young  lady."   
         He  looked  up.    "Do you know she  has  never  had  an 
         orgasm?"


           Surprised, Pam's eyes opened wide.


           Steven  grimaced.    "It's  unbelievable,  isn't   it?   
         Roger's  been  screwing her for four years, and  in  all 
         that time, she's done everything he's wanted, but he has 
         never  made everything come right for her.    He's  well 
         and truly used her."


           "That does it.   Damn Roger!"   Disbelievingly, Pamela 
         shook  her  head.    "What a  pity.    I've  never  ever 
         thought  about it.   Of all the times he's had sex  with 
         her,  I  went along with it because  she  always  seemed 
         happy  enough.   I thought she was getting as much  from 
         it as he."


           "Naturally.    Give  a child a sweet and  it  will  be 
         happy," said Steven. "Little wonder the poor girl is  as 
         she  is.  Never appreciating happier and  better  sweets 
         exists,  she's settled for what she's been told  is  the 
         best  sweetie available?  And how to get it!    Had  our 
         Roger  looked after his daughter's emotions  instead  of 
         him own, she would be a very adoring, happy little girl.   
         Now she knows what it feels like, I think all he has  is 
         problems".  Hearing  running feet on the  staircase,  he 
         added,   "However, we shall soon find out."


           Almost  on  cue, the door burst open and  glaring,  an 
         angry Roger demanded, "What have you done to Paula?


           "Why, is there anything up with her?", Steven  amiably 
         enquired.


           Roger  snorted. "You know damn well!   She's  sleeping 
         the sleep of the dead!   She can scarcely talk to me".


           Solicitous, Pam looked up. "Leave her as she is  then, 
         Roger".


           Undecided, Roger stared at them, then suddenly turning 
         on his heel, stomping along the hallway and slamming the 
         front-door  behind  him,  went out.    "Exit  the  Demon 
         King", murmured Steven.


           As the sound of Roger's car faded in the distance, Pam 
         rose and dropping a kiss on his head, perched herself on 
         the  arm of Steven's chair. "Roger's gone to  drown  his 
         sorrows."   She arranged herself comfortably.    "You're 
         really a clever old devil!"


           "Not  at  all", said Steven, grinning.    "Roger  sees 
         himself  as being deprived of something he wanted.    He 
         is  doing all of this to himself.   Most father's  would 
         be  happy to think their daughter was  pleasantly  tired 
         from  the day's exertions, enjoying an early  night  and 
         leave it at that".   Looking up, he looked fondly at his 
         daughter.  "And  you've had a busy day, as  well."    He 
         suddenly  gave her a big grin.   "Had any more  thoughts 
         on becoming pregnant by your old Dad?"


           "Don't   tease",   Pam  grimaced   and   then   smiled 
         sheepishly.   "I can't believe I was really so stupid."


           "Oh, I'm glad you mentioned it.   Look how things have 
         improved  since then!"   Savouring its firmness,  Steven 
         patted her thigh.   "It was a cry for help, that's  all.   
         I never realised you were so unhappy.   I should have."


           "Why?",  asked  Pam.   "The truth be told,  until  you 
         took  a hand in things, I never knew I was.    Happiness 
         was when I hadn't got a broken leg."


           Happily recalling their closeness of that morning,  as 
         Steven  gazed  up at her, suddenly drawn to  him,  their 
         tongues touching, Pamela pressed her lips firmly on his.   
         Wriggling,  she slid from the arm of the big  chair  and 
         landed on his lap.   "I love you, Dad," she whispered.


           Enjoying its fullness through her brassiere,  Steven's 
         hand  cradled  her breast.   "That's  a  very  two-sided 
         arrangement," he said.


           Her abdomen beginning to glow,  inwardly shivering  as 
         one-by-one  she  felt them being  undone,  Pam  snuggled 
         closer  as  Steven's  free hand  slowly  picked  at  the 
         buttons  of  her  blouse.   "Ooh, Daddy,  what  are  you 
         doing?" she giggled.


           "Nothing whatsoever I should be", smiled Steven.   "Do 
         you know, I do believe there are laws laws against  this 
         type of thing."   The last button opening, his hand slid 
         along the cool skin of his daughter's bare midriff.


           Momentarily  tensing as his finger  ticklingly  probed 
         her  navel,  Pam's  vagina began to  thrill.  "Oh  dear.   
         And what laws are they?" she asked.


           Working  at the waistband of her skirt, untucking  her 
         blouse, Steven said, "Oh, there is sure to be one  about 
         a  father  undressing his daughter."   The  lacy  blouse 
         fell open.


           Pam  asked in a low, little-girl voice, "And  are  you 
         going to break the law for me, Daddy?"


           Slipping  further round, Steven's fingers ran  up  and 
         down  her  vertebrae.   "What, the one  against  fathers 
         kissing  a  daughter's tits?   Who, me?"    His  fingers 
         crept up towards the clip of her brassiere.   "Never!"  


           "Oh,  Daddy!   What is your hand doing?"   Pam's  nose 
         slowly  rubbed  against his ear and her voice  was  low.   
         "You're not going to undo my bra, are you?   That  would 
         be a very naughty thing to do to me, Daddy.   Surely, it 
         must be against the law?"


           "No, definitely not."   Spreading his fingers,  Steven 
         caught  the silky strap and deftly closing them, as  the 
         clip  fell  apart, a wash of warmth suddenly  rose  from 
         Pam's  uncased breasts.   Sliding his other  hand  under 
         the soft globe of flesh, Steven played with her suddenly 
         pebble-like nipples.   "But this definitely is."


           Feeling Steven's penis start to expand, visions of its 
         fabulous  length and lazy jets of sperm arcing  from  it 
         quickening  her heart-beat, Pam gave a big sigh  as  her 
         father fondled her.   She slowly kissed him.   "Are  you 
         going to take me to bed?"


           "A  little  later, my darling", said  Steven  quietly.   
         "Right now, we are almost there, and it would be a  pity 
         to spoil things by rushing the last hurdles."    Rolling 
         a  nipple  between his fingers, beneath  his  touch,  it 
         swelled  again.    Easing her to  an  upright  position, 
         Pam's  delicious white orb only inches in front of  him, 
         he  laid  back the gaping blouse.    Slipping  the  taut 
         nipple between his lips, as his hand caressed its  heavy 
         mate, he gently sucked.   


           Gazing  down,  pressing herself towards him,  her  arm 
         sliding  round  his head, fondly  watching  as  Steven's 
         tongue  flicked  across  the  wrinkled  surface  of  her 
         nipple, Pam caught her breath with a hiss.   "Oh, Daddy, 
         that's so lovely, it must be against one of those laws."


           Leaving her nipple, Steven rabbit-nipped the soft skin 
         of  Pam's  aureole.    Looking up  at  her,  he  smiled.   
         "Just the odd three or four", he said.


           Pushing  her blouse out of the way,  half-turning  and 
         lifting her brassiere, Pam's hands cupped her firm, full 
         breasts  and  offered them to his  mouth.    Husky,  her 
         voice had a catch in it.   "Please, break the law again, 
         Daddy."


            With  each suck, her eyes closed, Pam's  head  slowly 
         lifted.   Drawing  down  to  pink  button-like  nipples, 
         kissing  one  and then the other, in turn  drawing  them 
         into  his mouth and giving short, firm  sucks,  Steven's 
         tongue  rolled around each bud until, wet  with  saliva, 
         they were fat and blood-red with excitement.  


           Tightly grasping both mounds, Steven's fingers  deeply 
         and  firmly  screwed  into  malleable  breast.    Slowly 
         kneading,  producing a sharp hiss as Pam's breaths  came 
         in  shorter  and shorter gasps, his  teeth  tugged  each 
         nipple in turn.   Her buttocks beginning to grind on his 
         stiff  erection, each relentless nipping assault on  the 
         tender flesh of her aureoles and graceful under-sides of 
         the globes unleashing tickling, electric shivers in  her 
         abdomen,  Pamela  dimly felt liquid suddenly  flood  her 
         vagina.   "But Daddy, you mustn't break the law!"


            "I  wont".    Pam's body stiffened  as  beard-stubble 
         roughly   scraped  screamingly-sensitive  nipple.   "And 
         before  long,  very often, I'm not going  to  break  the 
         biggest of them all."   


           Sucking  teeth holding red plumpness,  Steven  cruelly 
         nipped  again.   Breasts squashed against his face,  Pam 
         throatily murmured, "I'd love you not breaking the  law, 
         Daddy."   Straining upwards in a groan, as her long neck 
         revealed  itself,  Steven's lips rose to  her  shoulder.   
         Feeling the slight sting as teeth delicately  penetrated 
         soft  skin, her back arching as she gave a soft mew,  as 
         he  slowly  licked salty blood, she quivered.  "Tell  me 
         what  other  laws  you  aren't  going  to  break?"   she 
         whispered.


           "Lots  of  them."   Licking at the  hollows,  Steven's 
         tongue firmly slithered up and down her throat.   "Those 
         protecting   a   daughter  from  her   father's   loving 
         attentions.   There's the law stopping him from  playing 
         with  her  pussy and licking her  clitoris  whenever  he 
         wants.   I'm not going to break that one"   Slowly,  the 
         ridges  on  the ball of his thumb  scraped  her  nipple.   
         "Then  there's the law saying fathers cannot take  their 
         daughter's knickers off.  I really must remember not  to 
         break  that  one."  His mouth touching  the  smidgen  of 
         blood   oozing  from  her  shoulder,  at   his   sudden, 
         unexpectedly  strong, long suck, tingling  fire  flashed 
         across Pam's skin.   In delighted evasion, her  shoulder 
         hunched  against  her  tilted head as  he  said,    "And 
         fathers  definitely  mustn't  break the  one  about  not 
         parting his daughter's legs and fucking her."


           As the mental image struck home, Pam's belly excitedly 
         lurched.    "Please  Daddy, do them to me.   I  want  it 
         more than I've ever done."   


           Bringing  shivers  to her spine,  Steven's  tongue-tip 
         stroked under Pam's ear.   "But it's against the law, my 
         darling  one.    You  must push me away,  you  must  say 
         `no,no'! at the top of your voice."   


           As  his drying tongue lingeringly traced  a  delicious 
         path along the hair-line at the back of her neck,  beset 
         by  shivering  thrills, Pam's head cringed  away.   "But 
         Daddy,  I want to say `yes, yes'."   Her  voice  normal, 
         she breathed,   "I've come to realise I've wanted it for 
         a  long,  long time."   As her head turned,  their  lips 
         brushed  together  and she gave him a long,  long  kiss.   
         "Do  me,  Daddy"  she  whispered  breathlessly.    "Now!   
         Please!"


           "I've  wanted to for such a long time,"  said  Steven.   
         "Everything  happening over the last few days  has  only 
         made  me realise I've wanted you for years  and  years".    
         Still cupping her breast, he sat back and regarded  her.   
         "Somewhere,  you  stopped being a  daughter  and  became 
         someone I loved as a woman.   I don't know where it  was 
         and  how  it  happened, and every part  of  me  says  it 
         shouldn't have.   But it has."


           Content  that  fulfilment was only a matter  of  time, 
         accepting  his lead, Pam relaxed and child-like,  curled 
         up  in  his lap.   Snuggling close, she  murmured,  "I'm 
         glad.    You're  being  offered  everything  a  man  can 
         desire,  and  providing you promise to accept,  you  can 
         pick your own time and place.   


           "In the last two or three days, a lot has come  clear. 
         I know my own mind, and exactly what I am doing.     I'm 
         happier  and  more hopeful about the  future  than  ever 
         before, and it is all thanks to you."


           "It's   a   big  step",  said   Steven   thoughtfully.   
         "Without  thinking  of  going to bed with  you,  I'd  do 
         whatever I must out of love for you and Paula, you  know 
         that?   You don't have to commit incest to show you  are 
         grateful."


           Sitting upright in his lap, Pam stared at him.    "But 
         I'm not!", she said.   "That's not the reason.    You're 
         everything I want in a man. Just as a husband and father 
         should  be.    I don't see it as incest!   To  me,  it's 
         love!"


           "Call   it  what  you  like  though,  it's   still   a 
         commitment", said Steven.   "Your parting from Roger  is 
         a big enough step.   At your stage in life, you ought to 
         be  thinking of going out and finding  another  husband.   
         And a father for Paula."


           "'Found  him!"  retorted Pam.   "I've thought  it  all 
         through.   As far as the world is concerned, I shall  be 
         a  divorcee  whose  father lives with  her.    There  is 
         nothing unusual about that, in fact, it makes very  good 
         sense."   Stroking his face, she softly smiled.    "That 
         he shares my bed is something no-one else need know."


           Looking  away  with a strained  look,  Steven  sighed.   
         "Aren't you forgetting Paula?"


           "In  what  way?", asked Pam, wonderingly.    "She  can 
         have  her choice.   She's old enough to make up her  own 
         mind  and  if she wishes to go with Roger, I  won't  say 
         no."


           "I  was  more thinking of how we would all  get  along 
         together, if she chooses to live with you," said Steven, 
         meaningly.


           "You mean, how I'm likely to react if all three of  us 
         become involved with each other?", replied Pam.   "Oh, I 
         know  what  you  are wondering.   But we  have  to  face 
         issues as they stand.   


           "Let's  face it, because of her father's  interest  in 
         her,  Paula is no ordinary 12-year old.   She's  already 
         had  more sex than most girls experience by the  age  of 
         20,  and  the  fact it was her  father  doing  her  only 
         complicates  things even further".   Pam gave  a  little 
         shrug.    "So my daughter knows more than most girls  of 
         her age, and she isn't likely to want to stop now.    In 
         any case, it wouldn't be good for her.   Granted it is a 
         bizarre problem, it requires a bizarre solution.


           "So  if  she stays with us and you've done  your  part 
         properly, she'll look to her loving Grand-father to take 
         her  father's place, and if that extends to her bed  and 
         between her legs, then that's how it must be.   It won't 
         perturb me, not one little bit."   Pam leant forward and 
         kissed  Steven's nose.   "Providing I get my share,  you 
         old rogue."


           Steven's  eyebrows arched doubtfully. "Let  alone  the 
         girl's  mother, it's asking a lot from any woman.    Are 
         you sure?" he asked.   "Absolutely positive?   If  there 
         is  the  remotest possibility of it  eventually  causing 
         trouble,  I'd  rather say `no' now.    I  wouldn't  hurt 
         either of you for the world."


           "Certain!    All  I  want is my  daughter  and  father 
         happy," said Pam confidently.   "And if to secure  that, 
         they  make  love  to each other, then so  be  it!"   She 
         grinned at him.  "I'm in no position to grumble, I  want 
         him  myself!"    Smiling, she stared at  him.    "There!   
         Does that satisfy you?"


           "I  suppose it will have to," grinned  Steven.    "You 
         said  it clearly enough.   As you say, it is  a  bizarre 
         situation.     But   everyone  will  be  as   happy   as 
         circumstances allow.   And that's..."


           "...the  best  policy,"  Pam finished  with  a  smile.   
         "D'you  know,  I'm really beginning to believe  you  are 
         right?"   Unexpectedly rising and clipping her brassiere 
         together,  she  tucked  her blouse back  in  her  skirt.   
         Suddenly  business-like,  she  looked  at  her   father.   
         "Now, I'll make an arrangement with you."   


           All  attention, Steven sat up.   Glowing with  warmth, 
         Pamela's  eyes steadily gazed at him.   "Now, as far  as 
         Paula's  welfare  is  concerned,  you  have  my  fullest 
         permission  and co-operation.   You do what you have  to 
         do,  for her, with her and to her.   After  that,  Roger 
         and I will sort out a few things and then we can get  on 
         with life.   How's that?"


           Steven  scrambled  to his feet.   "Aye,  aye,  ma'am!"    
         Clicking  his heels, he grinned as his  knuckle  touched 
         his forehead.   "Permission to square away to the  upper 
         deck  and  see to the welfare of the rest of  the  crew, 
         ma'am?"


           Glancing at the wall-clock, Pam thought for a  moment.  
         "Roger  won't  be back until the bar  throws  him  out."   
         For   a   moment  studying  him,  smiling,   she   said, 
         "Permission granted!" On his way to the door, as  Steven 
         went to pass her, kissing his cheek, she caught his arm.   
         "Whenever it happens, make it good for her, Dad."    And 
         then,  more brightly, she said, "Or else I'll throw  you 
         in the brig and make you walk the plank!"


           Pausing for a moment, their eyes locked, Steven's hand 
         fondled  Pam's  cheek.    Suddenly  turning  her   head, 
         looking  at him from under her eye-lashes,  kissing  his 
         palm, she said.   "Well, what are you hanging about for?   
         Get about your duties."              

                              *    **    *                       


            The curtains at the open-window gently fluttering  in 
         the  warm evening breeze as, making his way to her  bed-
         side,  Steven silently let himself in  Paula's  bedroom.     
         Peacefully-resting  as  it  shaped  itself  through  the 
         single-sheet covering her, she stirred as he gazed  down 
         on  her,  following  her  body-form.    One  long    leg 
         carelessly  bent  at the knee, the other  stretched  out 
         before her,  he looked at the slow curve of her  abdomen 
         where  the sheet pooched across the hypnotic `V' of  her 
         vulva.    White  shoulders  clear  of  the  bed-clothes, 
         slight  young  breasts  steadily rose and  fell  as  she 
         breathed,  and  falling across her forehead  and  clear, 
         untroubled face, long hair touched long-lashed eyes.   A 
         slim nose led to the makings of the full Cupid's bow  of 
         her lips, slightly parted to reveal even  cream-coloured 
         teeth.   


         Steven  sighed;  without doubt, his  grand-daughter  was 
         going  to  break many a male heart.    Now  knowing  the 
         background  to  her life, and because of  it,  aware  he 
         loved her even more dearly, powering a protective desire 
         to  shield  her  from what he knew  would  be  emotional 
         vicissitudes of the next few days, a feeling of strength 
         arose within him.   


           Instinctively  realising  Paula  would  soon  need   a 
         reliable prop of emotional security, a plateau of  peace 
         upon  which she could stand whilst deciding her  future, 
         gently moving stray wisps of hair away from her eyes and 
         mouth, he sat on the edge of the bed.   Stirring as  his 
         fingers  touched  her, Paula's eyelids  flickered,  then 
         with a little startled scream, her eyes opened wide, but 
         recognising Steven, her head relaxed back on the pillow.   
         "Oh,  I thought it was Daddy."   Hugging  him,  suddenly 
         sitting  up,  her voice muffled against his  chest,  she 
         said, "Oh, I do love you, Grandad!"   


           His  arms round her, Steven kissed her hair.   "That's 
         good,"  he said.  "You mother sent me up to see how  you 
         were."


           Paula  looked  at him anxiously.   "Did you  tell  her 
         what you did to me?"


           "Sort  of".    Steven  smiled  reassuringly,  with   a 
         gentle  finger,  giving  the tip of her  nose  a  little 
         wiggle.    "Don't fret, my little love.   Mummy's  quite 
         happy about it".


           "Good".    Paula wriggled contentedly.   "Grandad,  it 
         was  a marvellous feeling when you did it.   It was  the 
         first  time  ever I've felt like that.   Can  it  always 
         be like that?"


           "Usually.   It should do".   Pleased with her  obvious 
         happiness  over he first orgasm, Steven stroked  Paula's 
         hair.     "Sometimes,  it's  even  better.    When  it's 
         happening, it depends on just who you are trying to make 
         happy."


           "What do you mean?"   Paula was thoughtful.


           "Well, if a person is making love to someone else, the 
         feelings they get are marvellous.   But if they are only 
         doing it for what it means to them, it's nowhere near as 
         good."


           Paula frowned. "Daddy only does it for himself".


           "I  know."    Understanding Roger didn't  need  anyone 
         causing  his  daughter's disaffection  for  him,  Steven 
         remained silent.


           Paula  looked up at him.   "What are you going to  do, 
         Grandad?   Are you going to move away from us again?"


           "No,  I don't think so.   Your mother other has  ideas 
         in  that direction", said Steven cheerfully.   "But  you 
         may find Daddy moves out for a little while".


           Paula  was  dismayed.   "But I want everyone  to  stay 
         here together", she wailed.


           Steven   gave  her  a  squeeze.    "It's  not   always 
         possible.    But who would you prefer to be happy,  just 
         you?   Or Mummy and Daddy?"


           "Oh, them of course, silly," Paula readily replied and 
         Steven  smiled to himself.   "Will they make me go  with 
         Daddy?"


           "Why,  do you want to?"  This needs careful  handling, 
         thought Steven.


           "Mmm...".    Child-like, resting her chin in a  cupped 
         hand, Paula thoughtfully frowned as she leant on a  bent 
         knee.    "I  don't think so...but I don't want  to  make 
         Daddy unhappy".


           "Whatever happens, that doesn't have to be the  case".   
         Steven  pulled  her close to him.    "Whoever  you  stay 
         with,  Mummy or Daddy, providing you show you love  them 
         and see plenty of them, the other one will be  perfectly 
         happy.    If you look at it that way, except for one  of 
         them not living in the same house as you, nothing really 
         changes.    You still love them the same, and they  love 
         you".


           Paula visibly cheered up.   And then frowned.   "Daddy 
         will  want me to go with him.   He'll make a great  fuss 
         of  me,  but after a little while, he'll be  getting  on 
         with  his business and I'll be on my own".    Her  voice 
         lowered.   "He'll want me to go with him so he can  keep 
         fucking me".


           Saddened by such young cynicism, Steven asked, "Do you 
         want that?"


           "No!"  Paula shook her head.   "I don't want him to do 
         it any more."


           "Why not?", asked Steven.


           "Daddy  just  wants to do it to me to keep  his  thing 
         happy".   Eyes wide, Paula turned to him.   "He  doesn't 
         really care for me".


           "Now,  now," said Steven, gently.   "You know he  does 
         really."


           "No,  he  doesn't."    Paula turned  away,  her  voice 
         becoming sharp.  "And I don't care for him!"


           "Yes  you  do.    And you always  will,"  said  Steven 
         firmly.   "If your mother and father do part, give it  a 
         little while and Daddy will work things out for himself.   
         In the meantime, keep loving him like a daughter  should 
         and it will help him a lot".


           Pacified,  Paula  was thinking again.    "Grandad,  if 
         Mummy  and  Daddy split up, will you be taking  care  of 
         her?"


           "Yes", said   Steven.   "If she wants me to".


           Paula  grinned.   "She will".   Her eyes opened  wide.   
         "Grandad, will you make love to her?"


           "Is that what you want?", asked Steven


           "Yes.  Well, I mean, I want you to.   As well  as  me, 
         that  is."    Steven's arm around her  shoulder,   Paula 
         snuggled closer to him.    "No-one could make us feel so 
         happy  as you.   Daddy doesn't.   Make Mummy  feel  like 
         you made me, I mean".


           "Well, I don't know," said Steven, stroking his chin.


           Bouncing  round on the bed, Paula earnestly looked  at 
         him.    "Please,  Grandad!    I'll make  it  worth  your 
         while!    I'll be a good girl. Just like you want me  to 
         be."


           "And how do you propose to do that?"


           "Like  this!"   Throwing back the bed-sheet, her  bare 
         breasts  exposed,  swinging herself onto all  fours  and 
         sexily  waggling  her bottom at him, a  grinning,  eager 
         Paula   turned   onto  her  front.      Steven's   penis 
         involuntarily jerked as his eyes were magnetically drawn 
         to   the  pink, vertical slit spreading  itself  in  the 
         cathedral arch of labia-lips.   "Do it to me, Grandad!"  


           Exerting  much  self-control,  after  a  few  seconds, 
         Steven  said quietly, "No, Paula, that's not the way  of 
         things.    That's something a person does  because  they 
         love  someone, not to earn what they want".   He  patted 
         Paula's  smooth, curved rump   "I'd make Mummy as  happy 
         as I can without your doing that".


           Spinning  round  in disbelief  and  sitting,   Paula's 
         hostile  eyes stared at him.   "Oh!  OK., then, I'll  go 
         and live with Daddy!"


            Refusing to be bullied, relaxing again, Steven smiled 
         cheerfully.     "If  that  is  what  you  want,   that's 
         perfectly  all right by everyone.   It's entirely up  to 
         you".   Whistling  tunelessly, he quietly  glanced  away 
         from her.


           Realising  Steven  had called her bluff, after  a  few 
         minutes  of  glowering at her knees,  Paula's  petulance 
         faded.   "I don't really want to go with Daddy, Grandad.   
         I'd  much rather stay here with Mummy".   She looked  up 
         at him.   "And  I want her to be happy".


           Leaning towards her, Steven gave her a kiss.   "That's 
         better,  young lady.   Thinking that way, everyone  will 
         be happy".


           "Will you be?"


           Crossing  his  legs, Steven leant back on  one  elbow.   
         "Oh yes, providing everyone else is, I am.   As long  as 
         you are doing what your heart really want to do, I'll go 
         along  with it".   He looked into Paula's  eyes.    "But 
         first  and  foremost,  a twelve-year  old  girl  has  to 
         realise she is a twelve-year old girl and start  putting 
         the people around her first".


           Dropping  her gaze, Paula said, "Mmm, I know.   I  was 
         silly".   She looked up.  "But I'm confused.   You don't 
         want me to do things for you".


           "Oh, and who says that?"


           "Well, do you?"   Paula's voice was puzzled.


           "After  you have done everything you can for  everyone 
         else,  yes!" said Steven, patiently.   "Then I can  love 
         you properly, as you want me to".


           The   concept  catching  her  attention,   Paula   was 
         interested. "So if I look after Mummy, you'll love  me?" 
         she asked wonderingly.


           "Way  to go!" said Steven with a laugh.   "Afterwards, 
         I'll  love  you as you have loved them.    But  you  can 
         always have cuddles in between".


           "Oh yes!"   Rising to her knees, Paula's slender  body 
         came  towards him.   Putting her arms around  his  neck, 
         she  deliberately  pressed her  nakedness  against  him.   
         Resisting  the urge to fondle her buttocks, as she  gave 
         him  a lingering kiss, once again, Steven exerted  great 
         will-power  over his hands and rising erection.    "Nice 
         things get done for nice people when they are nice, " he 
         said.


           "You're  nice!" said Paula promptly.   "Can I do  nice 
         things to you?"


           "Do what things?" enquired Steven.


           Running the length of his obviously bulging  erection, 
         Paula's  slim fingers dropped to his lap.  "This!",  she 
         grinned.


           As warm tightness throbbingly flowed up his groin  and 
         into  his pelvis, on the verge of giving way to  desire, 
         Steven's   face  grimaced  in  concentration.    Sensing 
         success,  her  grip slowly tightening,  Paula's  fingers 
         sought  his  penis but the grin reminded Steven  of  his 
         target    and   within   him,   resolve    strengthened.   
         Afterwards!    It  might be a nuisance, but it  was  the 
         best policy!        


                              *    **    *                       


           The following morning, her face lighting-up as  Steven 
         entered the kitchen, Pam was cooking breakfast.   Giving 
         him  a beaming smile, she kissed him warmly.    "Roger's 
         stormed off to his office.   Big troubles this  morning.   
         He is insisting you leave.   I told him no."


           Steven's lips pursed. "I didn't want things to  happen 
         so fast and in this way.   It's a pity."


           Placing  a full plate in front of him,  Pam  shrugged.   
         "That's  OK.   The bubble had to burst sometime, so  now 
         is as good a time as any."


           Sipping  his coffee, Steven looked up at  her.  "How's 
         Paula?", he asked.


           Pam grinned.  "I don't know what you said to her,  but 
         today,  she  is quiet, dreamy and with  a  happy  little 
         smile on her face.   It drove Roger up the wall.   She's 
         gone for a skating-lesson."


           In an atmosphere of warm, companionable, togetherness, 
         father and daughter cleared their plates.   Just as they 
         were finishing, the door opened, and to the surprise  of 
         them both, Paula entered.     


           Rising  to  greet her, Pamela said, "But why  are  you 
         home?"   She gave Paula a big hug and a kiss.   


           "I  suddenly didn't feel like my  skating-lesson.    I 
         wanted to be with you both."


           "That's good.   When you are around me, I feel happy".   
         Appreciatively,   Steven   eyed  Paula  up   and   down.   
         Emphasised  by  red skating-figures,  a  woollen,  white 
         jumper clung to her figure, and rising proudly over  her 
         buttocks,  the bright red of her skating  skirt  matched 
         the  colour  of her cheeks.   Lower, the  short  garment 
         gave way to long, shapely legs encased in brown  skating 
         tights.   "You look good enough to love," he remarked.  


           As  her  mother smilingly looked on, her  hand  fondly 
         resting on his shoulder, Paula moved to Steven's  chair.   
         Deliberately  dragging his fingers up the cleft  between 
         her  buttocks,  he  slid  an arm  round  her  waist  as, 
         chuckling, she kissed the top of his head.   


           Hearing  Roger's car pulling up in the  drive  outside 
         the window, looking enquiringly up at her, Steven asked, 
         "Have  you  made  up your mind what  you  want  to  do?"   
         Paula nodded.


           Aware  of apprehension clouding his  daughter's  face, 
         Steven  glanced  over at Pam, his lips  forming  into  a 
         silent  kiss as he winked.   Tension  visibly  draining,  
         she  suddenly  grinned  as the rear door  of  the  house 
         opened  and Roger entered.   Glaring at Steven, he  said 
         tersely.   "Get your things Paula.   Until Grandad moves 
         out,  we're staying with Grandmother".


           There  was  a long silence and then, looking  at  him, 
         Paula calmly said, "No!"


           Surprised,  Roger's  eyes opened-wide.  "What  do  you 
         mean?   Do as you're told"


           Paula  glanced  at her mother. "I want  to  stay  with 
         Mummy.   And Grandad".


           Roger  went red in the face. "Oh no you're  not!",  he 
         shouted.


           Turning  in her chair, Pamela looked up at him.    "Oh 
         yes she is, Roger!"   Amazed, Roger stared at her as she 
         quietly rose.   "For the last four years, you've treated 
         us like dirt and done just the things you wanted to  do.   
         Now  its time for Paula to grow up like any other  young 
         girl.   


           "Sex apart, she has to learn there are other people on 
         this earth than herself and how to address them and live 
         alongside  them.    You've put her and yourself  in  the 
         position  where she can get whatever she wants  just  by 
         flashing  her  pants  at you.   You're  so  tied  up  in 
         yourself,  you  cannot even see Paula's  craving  to  be 
         loved.  


           "Providing you can screw her, you don't think any more 
         about  Paula.   Now, I've got the biggest job of all  on 
         my hands, bringing up a daughter who is well in  advance 
         of  her proper age in life and the quicker I start,  the 
         easier it is going to be.   


           "Paula's staying here!"


           Veins thickening on his forehead, Roger's eyes bulged:   
         "We'll see about that!"   He spun round to Paula.   "Who 
         do  you want to go with, Paula?"   Flushing, her  bottom 
         lip beginning to tremble, Paula looked away.


           In an amiable voice, Steven said.   "Roger, I wouldn't 
         ask  her that, if I was you.   What a terrible  position 
         to put your daughter in."


           "You  keep out of it!," Roger said  caustically.   His 
         voice  softening  in  desperation, he  looked  at  Paula 
         again.   "Who do you want to stay with, kitten?    Think 
         of all the fun we'll have.   Just you and me.   Where do 
         you want to go?    I'll take some time off from work, we 
         can go anywhere, stay wherever you wish, do anything you 
         want".


           Paula's voice was firm again.   "No!   I want to  stay 
         with Mummy.   And Grandad."


           "That's enough, Roger!"  Edged with granite, as Pamela 
         spoke  again, her voice was cold.   "Now, I'll tell  you 
         how it is going to be.   


           "You  are going to quietly leave now, get  yourself  a 
         flat   or  something  and  live  there  for   a   while.   
         Providing  she  agrees, you can see Paula  whenever  you 
         want,  but showing her some proper respect and  manners, 
         you'll come and call at the house.   


           "Just  because her parents can't get along, Paula  can 
         hardly  be expected to stop now, so if she still  wishes 
         to go to bed with you, that is all right with me.    But 
         it is going to be up to her, not you".


           Drawing  a deep breath, Pamela carried on.    "However 
         long  it takes, after a few weeks or months, you  and  I 
         will talk, and decide what is best for the happiness  of 
         everyone.   Until then, everyone will have some  respect 
         for each other's wishes and values".   


           Catching  Roger's gaze, Pamela stared at him.   "Those 
         who  like it, will enjoy it.  Those who don't will  have 
         to put up with it.   But that is the way it is going  to 
         be."


           Breathing  heavily as though the weight of  the  world 
         had  just been placed on his shoulders, Roger glared  at 
         Pamela  and Steven.    "You think you've got me  over  a 
         barrel,  don't  you?    That I can't  complain  or  tell 
         anyone, in case everything comes out and I go to prison!   
         That I've just got to put up with it!"


           "You've  put  yourself over your own  barrel,  Roger."   
         Her voice softening, hands down on the table and leaning 
         towards  Roger, Pamela said, "Since we've been  married, 
         when all you had to do was to love other people as  much 
         as  you  loved yourself, you've  ridden  roughshod  over 
         everyone.    Dad's right, keeping everyone around us  as 
         happy  as possible is the best policy, the only  way  to 
         live.    In two weeks, he's given me more  support  than 
         you  have  in the years we've been married.    And  he's 
         worked wonders, he's been like a father to Paula."


           His top lip lifting, Roger snarled.   "He's set out to 
         split us up.   Just so he can sleep with you and  Paula.   
         The  dirty  old blighter just wants to  fuck  you  both, 
         can't  you  see that.   Before this  is  finished,  I'll 
         break him!"


           "No  you  won't!",  Pam  retorted.    "You  won't   do 
         anything.    Nothing  at all!   You can't  see  it,  but 
         you've  done this all to yourself.   All Dad's  presence 
         has done is to show-up the way you've used Paula and  I.   
         All  he does is to trust us, love us and try to help  us 
         towards being happy.   For all you may think, he  hasn't 
         done  anything towards bringing this about."   Her  tone 
         moderated.   "And before you ask, not because he  hasn't 
         had  the  opportunity, he hasn't had sex  with  me.   Or 
         Paula!"    From the back of the room, Paula was  shaking 
         her head.


           "Ha!",  said Roger.   "I don't believe you!   And  I'm 
         not moving out."


           Pam  glanced  at her father.    Noting  the  approving 
         sparkle  in  his eye, Pam looked back at  Roger.  "Well, 
         that's  the way it is going to be.   Make what you  wish 
         of  it,  but for your sake, I suggest you  believe  it!"   
         Slowly, she raised her eyes.   Looking Roger squarely in 
         the  face, she said clearly,  "Whichever way,  I  really 
         don't care any more."


           With mounting rage, his face turning white, Roger  was 
         speechless.    Compassionately watching his  son-in-law, 
         for a moment, Steven wondered if he was going to have  a 
         stroke,  but then without another word,  spinning  round 
         and slamming the back-door behind him, Roger stormed out 
         to his car.


           Silently releasing pent-up breath, seeing the  makings 
         of a tear in the corner of Paula's blue eyes, giving her 
         a  big  squeeze, Steven went to her.   "I'm  all  right, 
         Grandad", she said.   


           Gripping the back of a chair, her body shaking as  she 
         absently  stared  at her feet, Steven heard  Pam  sniff.   
         Looking  much older, as she looked at him with tears  in 
         her  eyes,  her complexion grey, around  her  mouth  was 
         pinched.   Suddenly reminiscent of her mother,  Steven's 
         heart  lurched.    "You  handled  that  wonderfully,  my 
         darling," he said reassuringly.


           Suddenly grabbing Steven's hand, staring at him as she 
         gathered   herself,  Pam  said,  "Paula!    Look   after 
         yourself  for a little while.   I must talk  to  Grandad 
         alone!"


           Dragging  him  through  the  door,  open-mouthed   and 
         perplexed,  Steven followed as Pamela almost ran up  the 
         stairway.    Propelling  him into her  bedroom,  as  she 
         closed  the door, with a tearful sound, she  pushed  him 
         backwards.  Aghast, he staggered, toppling onto the  bed 
         as his legs caught the edge.   Falling with him, as  she 
         frantically  kissed him, Pam's fingers scrabbled at  his 
         shirt.   Ripping it open, her teeth tore at the skin  of 
         his chest as,  her fingernails lacerating his shoulders, 
         she  sobbed,    "Shut  up! Don't  speak!   Don't  say  a 
         fucking word!"   


            Eyes   clenched   closed,   frenziedly   biting   and 
         scratching as he tried to comfort her,  as Pam yanked at 
         his  belt  and  zip, her  body  constantly  jumping  and 
         writhing,  Steven  was  unable to  catch  hold  of  her.   
         Fiercely clutching at it as his long erect penis  sprang 
         into  view,  her teeth gouged at his  cheeks  and  nose.   
         Steven gasped in pain.


           Wrenching  away from his restraining hands,  splitting 
         the   zip  apart,  Pam's  hands  flew  to   her   skirt.   
         Throwing  it to one side, she tore it off  and  suddenly 
         pushing  her father back on the bed, she  straddled  his 
         thighs.   Darting her fingers to the gusset of her  blue 
         panties, panting as she pulled it to one side,  grasping 
         his  long  penis  and jerking it  upright,  she  crudely 
         shoved it into her.   Levering herself up, ramming  down 
         upon it, she gave a long "Aaahhh" as its length  charged 
         into  her belly.  Roughly grasping  Steven's  shoulders, 
         her  eyes screwed tightly shut as she moved up and  down 
         on  him, as if in pain,  she groaned, "Quick,  fuck  me, 
         Dad!   Oh, for Christ's sake, fuck me or else I'll  die!   
         Fuck me!"


           Understanding and pushing deep into her as she moaned, 
         gripping  the chill flesh of Pam's buttocks as with  all 
         his  strength,  his hips jerked upwards,  Steven's  long 
         penis  engaged  with  her cervix.   Sliding  around  the 
         slippery,  stumpy  entrance to her  womb,   with  rapid, 
         short  thrusts,  his  glans  nestled  and  stroked   it.   
         Tongue  lolling, her vagina excruciatingly stretched  by 
         his  length,  Pam's  unseeing eyes opened  wide  as  her 
         uterus felt repeated hammer-blows.   "Oh, yes, Dad!" she 
         gasped.   "Oh yes!"   


           Drawing  her knees forwards, Pam began lunging like  a 
         jockey.   "Oh yes!"   Holding Steven's forearms, pulling 
         forward,  as she felt the soft tissues of her womb  give 
         as his length pressed deeper, a dull ache started within 
         her.   Touching skin and flesh never before savaged, she 
         strove to thrust him even deeper.   "Oh my Christ, yes!" 


           Feeling  hands  tugging at her blouse,  Pam  was  only 
         vaguely  aware  her  brassiere  being  forced  up  until 
         Steven's fingers nipped both swollen nipples.   The heat 
         of  sexual pain invading her breasts, her voice  lifting 
         to  a  loud  whimper as, her buttocks  slapping  on  his 
         thighs, Pam rammed him into her again and again.


           Probing into her gushing wetness for all he was worth, 
         eaten  by  her urgency, below her, Steven's  head  began 
         moving   from  side  to  side  as   orgasm   approached.   
         Clutching   Pamela's  breasts,  his  daughter's   vagina 
         frantically  riding  backwards and  forwards  along  his 
         penis, fiery ejaculate started its journey.   


           Rising  ever deeper in her, his penis  stretching  her 
         even  more,  beyond  pain, nothing mattered  but  to  be 
         filled with Steven's love.   Heart soaring with crazily-
         excited emotions, soul happily and thirstily opening  to 
         receive  it,  completely  out  of  control  and   wholly 
         overwhelmed  by  the flaming heat in her  belly,  frozen 
         stock-still by the first thunderbolt jet of cool viscous 
         semen  hosing  from  him, Pam's  heart  stopped  as  joy 
         flooded  her mind, her voice slowly rising to  a  shrill 
         crescendo.   "Daddy!   Oh, Daddy!   Give me the  fucking 
         lot, everything!   Yess-s-s!!!"   Clutching convulsively 
         at  Steven's arms, perspiration-wet face raised  to  the 
         ceiling  as tears poured down her cheeks, sopping  pubic 
         hair matting as, screaming, she took his long shaft, its 
         hot, pouring head jerkingly squirting and squirting over 
         Pamela's uterus.              


           The  last  drop  spent,  feeling  her  quaking   belly 
         and pounding heart subside, as the tension of her orgasm 
         gently faded, breasts luxuriously pointing skywards, her 
         hands sliding back onto Steven's legs, deeply aware that 
         as  his semem touched her, she became his for  evermore, 
         with  the  deepest of sighs, Pam  delightedly  stretched 
         herself.    Smilingly  clearing her head with  a  sudden 
         quick  shake,  gazing down  to  where  semen-glistening, 
         incestuous flesh emerging from the gash between her legs 
         connected  her  to her father,.    "W-o-o-o-w  oh  wow!"    
         She  gave a long, enthralled shudder.     "Oh dear  God, 
         it's  so  long!    And you never even had  to  touch  my 
         clitoris."


           Suddenly  leant forward, her arms sliding  under  him, 
         her head on his shoulder, her lips by his ear, Pam  gave 
         her  father a big hug.   "I'm sorry, darling Dad.    But 
         if I hadn't had that, I'd have gone mad.   It wasn't  as 
         I wanted our first time to be, but I just had to do it."


           "I  know, my love."    Arm sliding around her,  Steven 
         tenderly  stroked her shoulders.  "I must agree,  `wow', 
         very  `wow',"  he said.   "At times of great  stress,  a 
         fuck  can  be  the quickest answer for  a  woman".    He 
         suddenly  grinned.   "Though I must say, it's  rare  for 
         them to choose their father."


           Feeling  his  penis stir in her  vagina,  Pam  cuddled 
         close. "Then they don't know what they are missing," she 
         said.   "It was beautiful.   Thank you."   She  lovingly 
         kissed his cheek and looked up at him.   "The second  of 
         many?" she whispered.


           Still  engaged in her, rolling on top of her,  propped 
         on  one  elbow,  Steven's  fingers  gently  stroked  her 
         happy,  unlined, flushed face as he smiled down at  her.   
         Giving  her  lips a long, tender kiss,  he  smiled  into 
         large,  questioning  eyes.    "You  betcha!",  he   said 
         firmly.   "The second of many." 


         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+ 

         Chapter 1 to 6 of this very popular story can be  freely 
         obtained    from   our   file-server.     Email    `bp1-
         mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'  for  Chapter  One,  `bp2'  etc.   
         Chapter  eight  will  appear in  November's  Edition  of 
         @bartra.demon.co.uk'.    PLEASE NOTE: M.C.G.  CANNOT  be 
         obtained elsewhere.


         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+


             Did  you  know that there are 71.9 acres  of  nipple 
         tissue in the U.S.?






                          NIKKI AND THE BOATERS 


                              Author: Anon

                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~



           It was a gorgeous day for a sail. We set out from  our 
         slip  at  about 9: 00 a.m. in 10 knot SE winds,  and  in 
         less  than  an hour, the yacht club was no more  than  a 
         barely visible memory to stern. Jimmy had purchased  the 
         boat  only  two years ago, and was  still  learning  the 
         finer  points  of sailing, but his sailing  classes  had 
         been  more than enough to allow us to enjoy our days  on 
         the water. 


           I particularly enjoy the time out, because as soon  as 
         we  are  out of sight of land, I get  completely  naked. 
         Well,  not completely. I keep my deck shoes on when  I'm 
         upright  (which  isn't much) because I'd taken  a  scary 
         spill  over the side once before, slipping  barefoot  on 
         wet fibreglass. I'm sure it's pretty funny looking,  but 
         I  love having the freedom to ride around  the  Atlantic 
         without  any clothes at all, so I do, padding around  in 
         nothing but my Topsiders, which I also remove when I get 
         to the fore-deck to sun-bathe. 


           Jimmy certainly doesn't seem to mind. The water  makes 
         us  both horny as hell, and we often drop  sails,  throw 
         out the sea anchor, and screw somewhere on deck. Between 
         the  water, the sun, and my brazen nudity, he's  usually 
         good for three or four rounds in a day-long sail! 


           Lately, we'd taken to bringing along one or two of his 
         friends from the hospital from time to time. The boat is 
         a  lot easier to sail with three or four crew, and  he's 
         always  enjoyed  watching  me  fuck  other  men.  Today, 
         however,  it was Jimmy and me, and we were both  looking 
         forward to enjoying each other. 


           As  the strip of land drifted away behind us,  I  went 
         below  to  remove my shorts and  T-shirt.  Grabbing  the 
         exercise mat from its place beneath the starboard  bunk, 
         I  dragged  it back out with me, clopping along  to  the 
         fore-deck in only my well-worn deck shoes. 


           "Jesus, you have a cute ass!" Jimmy called after me. 


           I turned and called back, "I know! Why don't you  come 
         show me how much you like it?" 


           "Just  a little longer, honey. Let me get us a  little 
         further out. You get a little sun!" 


           Travelling  the rest of the way forward, I spread  out 
         the  foam pad I used to cushion the hard surface of  the 
         deck. Bearing the signs of many a sweaty day in the sun, 
         and a number of sexual adventures, the sun and salt  air 
         tended  to  bleach  it  all  out  over  time,  but   not 
         everything  and  I  smiled inwardly as  I  remembered  a 
         particularly  satisfying threesome that had  produced  a 
         noticeable stain. 


           Kicking off my shoes, I lay down, coating myself  with 
         sun-screen.  Our  many days in the sun  had  produced  a 
         deep,  even  tan I enjoyed very much. Being  blonde  and 
         fair skinned, I have always been careful about the  sun, 
         but  this  summer,  had managed a  killer  tan  and  one 
         without  much  in  the way of tan  lines.  If  you  look 
         closely, you can see the shadows of a tiny bikini I keep 
         below for those days when the water seems a bit crowded, 
         and I don't feel comfortable being totally nude, but you 
         won't see them unless you look for them. 


           Being  not-exactly-thin,  covering aureoles and  pubic 
         triangle, my bikini serves to make me decent, but as  it 
         barely  covers  a  third of my breasts and  less  of  my 
         behind, it also serves to tease. Jimmy says it's amazing 
         the way I can put on the suit and look more naked than I 
         do without it. 


           Today  however,  with not another  boat  within  sight 
         anywhere, it was not a day for the bikini.     Expecting 
         to  be awakened shortly by Jimmy's hands or his lips  on 
         my breasts, laying down on my back and closing my  eyes,  
         the  steady breeze and 1-2 foot waves lulled me  into  a 
         gentle sleep as the sun warmed my skin. 


           Instead,  I woke a few minutes later to the  shift  of 
         the boat's trim as turning the boat to starboard,  Jimmy 
         was  struggling to manage the wheel and the boom,  so  I 
         slipped on my shoes and toddled aft to help. 


           Gathering line, I asked, "What's up, babe?"  


           Drawing  in  the sail, Jimmy let it out  again  as  we 
         turned across the wind.  "Look, over there." He  pointed 
         in the direction towards which we had turned, and I  saw 
         the last flicker of a red flare as it settled toward the 
         water.  "Looks like somebody's in trouble,  gotta  help. 
         Sorry babe. Another day, huh?" 


           Nodding  agreement,  I was disappointed  but  knew  we 
         needed  to respond if there were trouble. One  of  those 
         law of the sea things... 


           "Guess I'd better put something on, huh?".    Wiggling 
         my  butt  at Jimmy as I disappeared below,  deciding   I 
         wasn't  going  to blow all this great  sun,  the  bikini 
         would  just  have to do. Pulling on the bottom,  a  tiny 
         white  triangle  in  front and  a  slightly  larger  one 
         behind,  I joined the sides by strings I wore low on  my 
         hips,  sort  of 70's style. Adjusting one  of  the  side 
         ties,  tightening it a little, I pulled the  bikini  top 
         over  my head,  before tying the strings loosely  behind 
         my  back, positioning the small white patches of  fabric 
         over my nipples. 


           "You  gonna wear that?" Jimmy asked as I emerged  from 
         the cabin. "Who knows who we'll run into out here..." 


           "I don't care. This is our fun time, and I like  being 
         seen in this. You don't mind, do you?" Jimmy grinned and 
         looking  ahead, shook his head.  


           Appearing dead in the water, we could see a power boat 
         floating  ahead  of  us and as  we  drew  closer,  Jimmy 
         relaxed  more and more on the sails, trying to slow  the 
         boat.  About 100 yards out, not sure how we'd stop  when 
         we reached them, he dropped the mainsail and motored  in 
         instead. 


           Approaching the boat, we found four scared and  rather 
         young  boaters. Seems they'd skipped summer  school  and 
         taken a boat belonging to one of their fathers out for a 
         joy  ride.  Not knowing a great deal  about  it,  they'd 
         managed to burn up the outboard, and then in the process 
         of putting out the fire,  because they couldn't get  the 
         radio  to  work, thought they'd  killed  the  electrical 
         system.  This was the reason for the flare  when  they'd 
         seen our mast. 


           Leaving me to tend the boat, Jimmy swam over to theirs 
         to see what he could do. They became even more  sheepish 
         when flipping a couple of switches on their radio, Jimmy 
         began calling the Coast Guard, giving them our  location 
         and  asking  for  a tow be sent out. As we  were  in  no 
         immediate distress and they were responding to two  more 
         urgent  calls, we were told they would be unable to  get 
         to us for some time.  


           So we wouldn't drift apart, swimming back to our boat, 
         Jimmy  had the boys throw two lines.  As Jimmy  had  the 
         boys  draw  the  boats together, I got  out  the  bumper 
         things  and we waited together for the tow to arrive. 


           Inviting  them  aboard, sitting around talking  as  we 
         waited,  Jimmy had the boy whose dad owned the boat  use 
         his cellular phone to call his father and tell him where 
         we  were, what was up, and that everyone was all  right. 
         When he ended the conversation, it was clear he was in a 
         lot of trouble, but at least his folks wouldn't worry. 


           Opening  the cooler and pulling out beers for all,  we 
         sat  in the increasingly hot sun. There wasn't a lot  to 
         eat  on  board, only some crackers and a few  pieces  of 
         fruit,  but  we  shared that, too.  The  boys  were  all 
         seniors  from  St. Alban's high school,  taking  classes 
         that  were  supposed to be preparation for  their  first 
         semesters  at various colleges. They were all  swimmers, 
         and had scholarships to swim somewhere, but thought they 
         might have some eligibility problems, so they'd  decided 
         to  work  a  little  this  summer,  "little"  being  the 
         operative  word.  Their  names, I  learned  were  Terry, 
         Stephen, Roger, and Mike. 


           Making  no  attempt to be particularly  modest  around 
         them, from time to time, I saw one or the other of  them 
         staring  at me, or exchanging "Oh, wow" glances  with  a 
         friend as I moved around the boat in my tiny white suit. 
         Exchanging  smiles with me a few times, Jimmy saw  them, 
         too.   With  swimmers'  builds,  broad  shoulders   that 
         tapered to narrow waists, hard, flat stomachs and  firm, 
         small  butts, the boys weren't bad to look  at  either.. 
         Too bad they were so young... 


           Opening  another  round of beers for the  boys,  Jimmy 
         asked  me for some help forward. Aware of four pairs  of 
         eyes  boring into my backside, slogging around  in  deck 
         shoes,  I  walked as sexily as I could.    Reaching  the 
         fore-deck, I asked, "What's up, babe?" 


           "You want these guys?" 


           "No, Jimmy, they're just boys!" 


           "Yeah,  but I saw you looking them over,  and  they're 
         legal enough. Besides, I remember when I was eighteen, I 
         could  get  it up three, four times in a row.  Could  be 
         fun.....?" His eyes twinkled as I cast a glance back  at 
         the  boys,  who  looked quickly  away  from  us.  "See?" 
         continued Jimmy. "They're hot for you, and it's gonna be 
         hours before help comes. Why not?" 


           It  was  five or six months since my  little  escapade 
         with  the basketball team. I'd enjoyed that a  lot,  but 
         since then, neither of us had found a suitable bunch for 
         another group-fuck. And here we were, stuck for  several 
         hours with four young, horny teenagers. Why not  indeed?  
         Looking back at Jimmy, I smiled consent. "But only if  I 
         can have you, too..." I added. 


           "You kidding? That basketball thing was the last  time 
         I'm sitting by just to watch! Of course you get me  too. 
         No  way around it!" Giving my ass a pat and a pinch,  he 
         returned  to the aft portion of the boat. I wasn't  sure 
         who  was  supposed to say what, but Jimmy took  care  of 
         that. 


           "So,  boys,  you all like girls?" A  little  confused, 
         they  looked at one another,  but nodded and said,  yes, 
         they  all liked girls. "Thought so. You like the way  my 
         wife looks? She's pretty hot, isn't she?" Another  round 
         of confused, embarrassed glances. One or two looking  at 
         me  to  see what I thought of all this, I  just  smiled. 
         Finally, they all agreed I was pretty hot. Not the  sort 
         of  response that builds your self confidence, but  they 
         seemed nervous. 


           "Well,  you see, I'm asking, because Nikki here  loves 
         to fuck, sometimes several guys at a time. And she likes 
         you, thinks you're pretty hot too. So, you wanna fuck?" 


           Stony silence. 


           "Really," I chimed in. "No strings, no demands, just a 
         fun  way to spend a few hours while we wait.  When  your 
         tow  comes, you go your way, we go ours, and that's  it. 
         What do you think?" 


           After  another moment's hesitation, one of  the  boys, 
         the one named Terry, looked right at me and said, "Okay, 
         sure, why not?" 


           I  stood as I said, "Good. Now, how about  helping  me 
         get this off?" I beckoned for him to draw closer. "Untie 
         this one behind my neck." Leaning closer to reach behind 
         my neck, his chest brushed my breasts as I ran my  hands 
         down his sides, tracing the rippling muscles. Continuing 
         to  fumble  as his friends looked on, as  I  dragged  my 
         nails gently across his flat belly and began to toy with 
         the waistband of his baggy swimsuit, he giggled. 


           At last succeeding in untying the simple bow, exposing 
         my full breasts as the top of my suit fell to my  waist, 
         I guided Terry's hands to them, then drew his head  down 
         until his lips locked onto one large soft nipple. As his 
         friends looked on, pulling him against my chest with one 
         hand, I untied the remainder of the top with the  other. 
         Moving  his mouth from one breast to the other, he  left 
         the  first  nipple erect and hard and tiny  thrills  ran 
         from  my breasts right to my toes as his lips  continued 
         to pleasure them. 


           Pulling  him upright, I drew Terry to me  and  kissing 
         him  deeply,  explored  his mouth with my  tongue  as  I 
         slipped  my hand between us and searched for the  fleshy 
         tube I so desired. Finding what I'd expected through the 
         thin nylon fabric, I gently squeezed and rubbed a  firm, 
         semi-erect  cock.  Finding  my ass,  his  hands  slipped 
         beneath  the  useless  triangle of white  to  fondle  my 
         cheeks. 


           Sliding both my hands beneath the elastic waist of his 
         suit,   anxious to plant an equally passionate  kiss  on 
         his rapidly growing prick, I began tugging, and bending, 
         finally  knelt  in front of him to pull down  the  baggy 
         shorts. As I did, he popped free, bouncing at half-staff 
         until  I'd tugged the swimsuit all the way to the  deck. 
         Straightening,  I took Terry's hot dick as far  into  my 
         mouth as I could, and pulled it out. Licking the  under-
         side,  down to the base, down to the thick, dark,  curly 
         hair that covered his scrotum, I nuzzled and kissed  his 
         balls and the wet shaft with my hand. 


           At  first,  the others maintained what  was  either  a 
         respectable or a shocked silence but as I moved my mouth 
         back to Terry's swollen cock-head, my audience began  to 
         erupt. "Oh, man, look at that," one boy said to another. 
         "Man, this is seriously hot," said the third. 


           Looking around at the boys, their eyes were wide  with 
         amazement, their hands in their laps, rubbing their  own 
         cocks intently. Smiling, Jimmy winked when I caught  his 
         eye. 


           Sensing Terry wasn't far from coming, I stood back  up 
         and  kissed him again before asking, "You ready  to  put 
         that some place warm and wet?" He nodded. 


           "Well,  you'd better get these off." I pointed  toward 
         my  crotch.  Bending to untie the bikini bottoms,  Terry 
         kissed  my belly and ran a hand between my legs  to  the 
         soft mound there. Grasping the flimsy fabric, he  pulled 
         it  away,  and  it  fell to the deck  and  as  his  lips 
         travelled northward across my breasts, I had my  fingers 
         in  his  hair as his fingers played in the  soft  blonde 
         triangle above my pubic mound. 


           Completely  naked, I stood before them  and smiled  at 
         the boys. Turning my back to Terry, I bent over, waiting 
         as  he lifted his prick's fleshy tip to the  moist  slit 
         between  my legs. The rocking of the boat,  though,  was 
         too  much for me and I found that bent over as I was,  I 
         couldn't keep my balance. "Terry, I don't think this  is 
         gonna  work," I said over my shoulder. "What say we  use 
         my  little  mattress up front?" I pointed  forward,  and 
         Terry nodded. 


           Abandoning the safety of my deck shoes, leading Terry, 
         I  stepped  up and walked forward  along  the  starboard 
         side.  Looking back, I could only laugh as he used  both 
         hands to steady himself, leaving his O-so- hard cock  to 
         bounce  and weave with each tentative step. Arriving  at 
         my exercise pad, I lay on my back, legs spread, waiting. 
         Playing with my clit as I waited, it raised itself to  a 
         hard, sensitive knot. Then kneeling and bending over me, 
         Terry crept between my legs.


           Guiding his rigid cock to the entrance to my pussy, he 
         pushed it home and I was so very wet with  anticipation, 
         in several slow strokes, he entered me easily.   Closing 
         my eyes and placing my hands on his strong shoulders  as 
         he  began to work his hot dick in and out in long,  even 
         movements, without even thinking, I drew my knees up and 
         to  the sides to allow him easier,  deeper  penetration. 
         Each  stroke  a little quicker than the last,  a  little 
         more  forceful, I remembered he'd already been  near  an 
         orgasm once, and realising he'd come quickly, I began to 
         whisper.    "Okay,  Terry, that's real nice.  It's  real 
         good, baby. Now, go ahead, let it go. Let it go. I  want 
         you to come. We can do it again if you want, later.  Let 
         it go, baby. Come in me, come in me.   Let me have it." 


           "Oh,  Nikki. Oh, baby, yes, I'm gonna come, I'm  gonna 
         coooommmme," he groaned. Terry's movements becoming more 
         and  more  rapid  and spasmodic as  his  orgasm  neared,  
         concentrating  on each sensation, I stayed quite  still. 
         At  last,   shooting  thick,  gooey  cum  into  me,  his 
         powering  cock  erupted. "Oh, baby, that was  so  good."


         Terry's  passion subsiding, he rolled aside and  looking 
         around,  the  boys  stripped with hard  dicks  in  their 
         hands,  I saw Jimmy and the other three standing by  me.  
         Looking on happily, Jimmy was aware he'd surely get his, 
         too.  The boys all very much aroused, I  suspected  that 
         between  playing  with themselves and watching  me  fuck 
         their buddy, they'd all be even quicker to come. 


           "Mike,  you  want  to  be next?" I  said  to  the  boy 
         standing  at  my feet, or really, between my  feet.  His 
         eyes barely moving from the shiny pink lips of my pussy, 
         he nodded and knelt between my legs. As his cock pressed 
         its  way  home and his chest pressed hard on my  own,  I 
         whispered,  "I'm nearly ready, Mike. Can you get  me  to 
         come?" 


           Propped  on his elbows,  his cock hot and hard  inside 
         me  as  Mike ground himself into me, I held  him  close,  
         with  each grinding stroke, his closeness  pressing  the 
         base of his rod against my clit. 


           "Oh,  baby, yes, that's it, that's it.  Oh,  yes,  I'm 
         coming  baby. Just like that, don't stop,  I'm  coming!"  
         Keeping  his  motions exactly as I'd asked,  I  careened 
         into  my first grunting, thrashing orgasm.  Pitching  my 
         hips up to meet Mike's thrusts, his frequency  increased 
         and  as his own movements became frantic, I grabbed  the 
         lean, muscled cheeks of his ass, pulling him into me  as 
         he released  his own load. Continuing to move,  he  only 
         slowed  gradually as his orgasm and the rigidity of  his 
         cock ebbed. Pulling out, already only half-hard, he  sat 
         leaning on the mast. 


           Ready poised, Roger and Stephen waited to take  Mike's 
         place  and Jimmy, too, looked more than  ready.  "Jimmy, 
         come lie down here, baby." I gestured to the mat, and as 
         I  sat up, he lay on his back beside me. Straddling  his 
         hairy  chest with my knees, I settled backward  until  I 
         felt the soft, swollen tip of his prick slip between  my 
         sperm-soaked  labia  and begin to  penetrate.   Stopping 
         descending,  Jimmy did the rest, lifting his hips  until 
         I'd  engulfed all of his gorgeous cock with wet  warmth. 
         One  long, easy stroke and he was in.  Cock-head  nearly 
         visible  between my legs, out, out, almost all the  way,  
         then in again, deep and hard. 


           Sitting  up,  keeping  my  hips  a  few  inches  above 
         Jimmy's, he continued to fuck me as I beckoned to  Roger 
         and  Stephen.    Taking  a  stiff  cock  in  each  hand, 
         wrapping my mouth around Roger's cock, I could taste the 
         pre-cum oozing from the tiny slit as I fastened my  lips 
         to  his  prick and as my other  hand  stroked  Stephen's 
         tool,  I  sucked thirstily. Rotating his hips  in  small 
         circles,  Roger started fucking my hand and mouth.  "Not 
         quite yet," I thought to myself.


           Looking  up to see me servicing two more cocks,  Jimmy 
         began  to  hump me with more earnestness.  Steadying  my 
         ass under his hands, his groin slammed upward into  mine 
         harder  and faster, my breasts bouncing with the  impact 
         and sucking harder at Stephen's rock-hard prick, I  felt 
         another climax of my own coming.  Helping me to jerk him 
         off,  Roger's hand was on my own as Jimmy  continued  to 
         increase his pace. 


           Suddenly,  Stephen growled as his cock  suddenly  spat 
         blobs  of  salty cum into my mouth and as I  felt  Jimmy 
         start to come, I sucked and swallowed. Banging furiously 
         at my juicy cunt, as Jimmy sent his own cum to join  the 
         mingled  fluids already there, he sent me  reeling  into 
         another great orgasm. 


           Ecstasy  washing  over me like a huge  wave,  I  could 
         barely  stay  upright, Stephen's prick falling  from  my 
         mouth  as dribbles of sperm and saliva trickled onto  my 
         hand and forearm.   Now I bounced up and down on Jerry's 
         cock while Roger fucked my hand. 


           Behind  my  head, Roger's hand was pulling me  to  his 
         raging prick. "I'm gonna come, oh, suck it out, suck it. 
         Pulling  me closer, still reeling from my own climax,  I 
         opened  my  mouth but couldn't seem to find him  as  his 
         cock  pulsed in my hand.  My eyes still closed,  opening 
         my  mouth to catch his load, I felt a heavy plop  on  my 
         chin, then my breast, and guided by his hand on mine,  I 
         milked his pulsing cock.   Another spurt of milky cum on 
         my  chest,  then another; thick and  sticky,  it  stayed 
         where  it  landed until I gathered it with  my  fingers. 
         "Sorry  I  missed all this."  Smiling up  at  Roger,  he 
         smiled  back,  his eyes widening as   licking  away  the 
         salty juice, I put the fingers into my mouth. 


           Lapping  up the creamy white liquids gathering at  the 
         base  of his shaft, I lifted myself off  Jimmy's  still-
         throbbing  cock  as he fucked me. Caressing  his  nearly 
         rigid  pole,  I kissed his balls and the inside  of  his 
         furry thighs.  "That was nice," I murmured. "Very nice." 


           Mike  and  Terry were sitting with their  fully  erect 
         cocks in their hands as I looked up. Jimmy'd been right, 
         these boys were machines.  Bent over with my butt in the 
         air, I was kneeling between Jimmy's legs at that  point.   
         "So, somebody want to get behind me, here?" 


           While  Mike  strode quickly to my tail end  and  knelt 
         behind me, Jimmy slipped away and Terry lay where  Jimmy 
         had been as I felt Mike's cock slide into my well-fucked 
         pussy. 


           Slapping  his  abdomen noisily against my  ass  as  he 
         tried to generate more friction in my slippery tunnel, I 
         let  Mike  slop  away in my juicy hole for a  bit  as  I 
         worked  on  Terry's cock.   Covering it with  saliva,  I 
         stroked  it  with  my  hand  and  then  thought  of   an 
         alternative  for Mike. "That's good, Mike, but it  seems 
         pretty  sloppy.  How 'bout my back door?"  I  heard  the 
         other  boys muttering their "Oh, Jesus" and  "She  wants 
         him  to  fuck her ass?" to each other as  I  waited  for 
         Mike's  response.  "It's  easy, babe.  You're  nice  and 
         slick.  Just  smear  a little of  the  extra  around  my 
         asshole and go for it." 


           "Okay," was all he said. One, two fingers slipped into 
         my  soaked  cunt and collecting fluids, withdrew  and  I 
         felt  it rubbed onto my puckered anus.   Being  sure  to 
         continue  my  attentions to Terry, I said,  "That's  it, 
         honey.   Now slip a finger in a little, just to warm  me 
         up..."  His finger slipped easily into my ass  and  more 
         quickly out. "I'm ready, baby, put it in," I encouraged.  
         Gingerly at first, his spongy cock-head pressed  against 
         the  tiny  orifice, then a little harder,  then  when  I 
         didn't  complain, hard enough to pop it in. With  short, 
         quick strokes,  he worked himself deeper and deeper into 
         my ass. 


           Turning  my attention back to Terry, as I looked  into 
         his eyes and began again to suck on his engorged member, 
         he grinned crazily. 


           Burying  the  last of his cock in my ass,  Mike  said, 
         "Oh, man, this is so tight, " and after a few  tentative 
         strokes,  happily  crammed my bowels full of  hot  cock.  
         Occupied  with  Terry's  prick.  bobbing  furiously  and 
         stroking  his slick rod with my free hand,  pressing  my 
         tongue  hard  against the sensitive  under-side  of  his 
         glans,  I drove him quickly to his second orgasm.    His 
         back  arched under me as, shouting, his cock  spat  warm 
         semen into my mouth. 


           Seeing  his friend's eyes roll up in  ecstasy,  Mike's 
         motion  shifted  gears,  and with swift,  uneven  stokes 
         into my ass, his own cock shot sperm into my bowels. 


           Growing  tired, I neither moved nor spoke as Mike  and 
         Terry  withdrew. Without invitation Roger, then  Stephen 
         took  their  turns at my ass, pouring more cum  into  me 
         until when they'd finished, I collapsed flat on my belly 
         with my legs spread wide.   


           Thinking  they were done, completely spent and  nearly 
         drifting off to sleep, I was beginning to enjoy the heat 
         of  the sun on my back when I felt a shadow fall  across 
         me. Terry wanted one more go, to shoot one more load  in 
         my  ass.   I didn't have it in me to prop myself up,  so 
         parting  my  cheeks with his fingers as I lay  flat,  he 
         shoved  his  sturdy cock in me.   Covering me  with  his 
         body, his strong, hairless chest rested on my back as he 
         drove  his prick home with long abdominal  strokes.  The 
         others  had  gone  aft for beer, and when  he  came,  he 
         stayed  with me for a while, linked until his  shrinking 
         cock pulled itself from my anus.  


           Naked, I slept in the sun until I felt Jimmy's hand on 
         my shoulder, shaking me. "The tow-boat's coming,  honey. 
         You might want to get below." Weak-kneed, I walked  back 
         to the entrance to the cabin.   The boys thanked me  for 
         a  wild afternoon, and I them, then I crawled below  and 
         slept until Jimmy woke me to tell me we were nearing the 
         yacht club, and he needed my help docking. 


           Pulling on shorts and shirt, I emerged from the cabin. 
         "You look like hell!" grinned Jimmy. 


           "Yeah,  well,  it was your idea, and it was  fun.  How 
         'bout you?" 


           "You  know  I like to watch you, babe.  I'm  still  so 
         horny  you're  gonna  have your work  cut  out  for  you 
         tonight, I bet." 


           I  wiggled my ass at him as I walked forward  to  tend 
         one of the lines. It was a good thing I'd rested a  bit. 
         Jimmy  would definitely be hot to trot when we got  home 
         that night! 


           Life sure is good. 



                                THE END


         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+

           Chaste makes waste. -- Cher







                          `DARLING' DAUGHTER'


                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


           In  a private capacity, the work of an  M.C.G.  staff-
         writer,  in  an effort to raise the  quality  of  story-
         writing, `Darlin' Daughter' made her first appearance in 
         newsgroups at the beginning of the year.   Proving to be 
         a  very  popular girl, `green-eyed daughter'  has  since 
         attracted  the  attention of the media, appearing  on  a 
         number of occasions in daily newspapers on both sides of 
         the Atlantic and has been featured on one specialist  TV 
         programme.    First  reported through the  eyes  of  her 
         `father',  she  has since taken to writing  in  her  own 
         right,  earning  her - amongst many other things  -  two 
         proposals of marriage!


         For  the  no doubt hedificaation of  "ELECTRA  MAGAZINE"  
         Subscribers,  containing many a sound point to  increase 
         reading pleasure, starting off with the basics, `Darlin' 
         Daughter's'  father gives permission to reprint


                Darlin' Daughter's Tests For a True Story!
                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          (1) How long is the hero's cock?   

             Anything above seven inches, beautiful,  dark-haired 
         daughter  says the story-teller has a  good  imagination 
         and  to her keen mind, it follows so is the rest of  the  
         story!    She complains that on most days  around  here, 
         she breaks her back snapping at the more normal three or 
         four inches available to her.   

             Drawing you attention to the fact she is all  woman, 
         equipped  with a [delightful] vagina and  not  something 
         the proportions of the water cooling-tower of a  nuclear 
         power-station, the same goes for described thickness.


         (2)  If Mum/sister/niece etc. caught him  diddling  with 
         himself and said words to the effect of `I want a  piece 
         of that', forget it!


             The first time daughter laid a hand on her  father's 
         bare bum, he thought it was her mother after money,  but 
         had forgotten to put her glass-eye in. 
    

         (3)  Do indigenous relatives learn about who is  getting 
         screwed? 

             A shrewd observer of Life, as she rightly says,  the 
         public being notoriously narrow-minded in their views on 
         incest   or  other  interestingly  similar   past-times,  
         particularly  other  juveniles who wouldn't be  able  to 
         keep  their  traps shut or - more likely -  be  able  to 
         resist  any opportunity to drop older brother/sister  in 
         the  tom-tit from as great a height as possible,  anyone 
         with the good sense and taste to be screwing a  relative 
         isn't likely to hire the local brass band and town-crier 
         to  let  more people in on the  secret  than  absolutely 
         necessary.  Usually it being just her wriggling her toes 
         under whoever it is, owning a large condominium in  Palm 
         Springs and a healthy share of the Colombian Government, 
         darling  daughter has made a nice little earner  out  of 
         `keeping secrets', mainly about one member of her family 
         from all the other members.    
   
         In   Nature's  scheme  of  things,  a  `one-to-one'   is 
         believable.   Therefore,  reading  of  multiple   people 
         situations  with the family's collective arse  going  up 
         and  down  in concert to the tune  of  `Camptown  Races' 
         stretches  her  credibility.   Her test is  that  if  it 
         stretches yours, it's the Author stretching his.


         (4) How many times does one person get screwed?   

             Magnanimous  and healthy though  darlin'  daughter's 
         lineage is, she finds incestuous males around her bear a 
         remarkable  likeness    to ordinary males; they nip  in, 
         nip  up and nip out like they are in Grand Prix  Racers, 
         with which for some unknown reason, her  mother agrees.  

         Like  cowboys in a `B' Western, to descriptions  of  ANY 
         male spending all night or all day repeatedly  orgasming 
         like an inexhaustible six-gun, daughter says she  should 
         live  so  long!, it only happens in fiction  and  surely 
         most   men  out  there  reading  her  column  know   the 
         generality is, however fit, excited  and young the male, 
         by the fourth ejaculation in two hours, someone has gone 
         over  his  kidney-walloper  with  a  very  blunt,  rusty 
         potato-peeler and with a haggard, grey-look on his face, 
         he is pumping up dribbles of hot water!  

             Or steam!   

             And she reckons she should know!    


         (5) Does anyone get pregnant?   

             Daughter's  view  is, unless  deliberately  ventured 
         into,  sensing a Jumbo-Jet load of Trouble  arriving  at 
         approximately  the  same speed and with about  the  same 
         thunderous  noise,  let alone incestuous,  a  real-life, 
         under-age pregnancy would see sensible males  taking-off 
         like  a candy-arsed baboon in the general  direction  of 
         Away,  and not striding about the countryside  with  his 
         thumbs  in his braces saying `look what I have done'  to 
         inhabitants and passers-by.


         (6)  If and when discovered incestuously  humping,  what 
         are the parent's reactions.   

             Outside this family, daughter says it would be  more 
         likely to be `come here you little bastard while I wring 
         your  neck!'  whilst within her family group,  `why  the 
         fuck  ruin my day by telling me that' would more  likely 
         be the case. 


         (7) How big are Mom's/Sis's tits?   

             Darlin'  daughter  says:  `anything  larger  than  a 
         Jersey  cow  at  milking-time  doesn't  happen,   whilst 
         smaller than bee-stings is just the Author snivelling to 
         make  himself  credible'.   Except in  fiction  stories, 
         women  have  floppy tits, baggy  tits,  hot-water-bottle 
         tits,  oranges, lemons, hairy tits and lots  of  others; 
         nipples  come  in sizes like Chapel  hat-pegs,  upturned 
         tea-cups,  and some women have  one-out-one-in  nipples.   
         With  few  exceptions, she gets the hump  because  every 
         woman in every story must have the same  genetic-coding; 
         she has `full', `shapely' or `big' knockers and  whereas 
         daughter's are about 36C - a nice, average hand-warmer - 
         her  mother  has  tits fair fit to poke  your  eye  out.   
         Nipples are not usually `big' with aureoles the size  of 
         a football-pitch.   

             Furthermore,  none  of the heroines  have  under-arm 
         pubic hair, knock-knees or braces on their teeth, or  up 
         the  other end of the scale, varicose  veins,  prolapsed 
         wombs,  faint moustaches or halitosis, nor do they  seem 
         to be able to do anything but have mind-blowing  orgasms 
         every  time they see their relative's cock, nor  give  a 
         double  money's  fuck  by being ridden 24  hours  a  day 
         without so much as a `by-your-leave' or `may I' or being 
         given  time-out for a pee or a McDonalds or picking  the 
         kids up from school.    Save for herself of course,  the 
         foregoing covers what's on offer around here.

             Similar things frequently happening around here,  if 
         Mom  stops  blowing  her  son  and  says  `is  that  the 
         telephone  ringing?'  or  as Dad  is  getting  into  his 
         daughter, the family dog pushes a cold, wet nose up  his 
         rectum  or  snaps at his balls; if son says  to  sister, 
         `how  to  Christ do you undo this  brassiere?',  darlin' 
         daughter believes she's possibly reading a true account.  


         (8) Who said what?   

             Such  as `when are you going to paint the  ceiling', 
         long  moaning groans do happen, but I've never heard  my 
         daughter say more than `for fuck's sake be quick  before 
         Mom  comes home', which unless they have been at it  for 
         years, is more than likely reality for incestors.   

             Whilst talking of talking, more befitting a Japanese 
         Sumo  Wrestler with piles passing a hard, square turd  a 
         foot long, a dead giveaway, the daughter with the comely 
         bosom  says  that line after line of  Mom,  daughter  or 
         sister  emitting  `A-A-A-A-R-R-G-G-H-H',  `O-o-o-o-o-h', 
         `Y-e-e-o-o-w-w'  etc.,  is  a male  trying  to  convince 
         another  male  of  his knowledge of how the  mind  of  a 
         female  works  during sexual congress, and  that  during 
         serious horizontal-jogging, if anyone in her family were 
         to  come out with noises anything like that, apart  from 
         being a big turn-off, thinking Mum had again managed  to 
         give them food-poisoning and they'd got the squits, fuck 
         the fucking, she'd best call an ambulance! 


         (9) What gets screwed?   

            The `ringers' are the stories where, with  monotonous 
         regularity,  consecutively filling every hole in  sight, 
         in  less  than 30 minutes, the hero and heroine  do  the 
         rounds  of all known sexual practices with a few  others 
         thrown  in for good measure, and as daughter says,  this 
         is where reality takes off into the wild blue yonder.   

            As  her  readers all know, flare-hipped  daughter  is 
         made  of  delicate  skin  and  bone  with  pure,  loving 
         emotions  for  her  family, and  although  healthy,  her 
         relatives  not only are unaware of the existence of  any 
         variation  beyond bouncing her on a bed or,  giving  her 
         unsightly  carpet-burns on her bum, rolling her  on  the 
         shag-pile, but are also human.   On the odd occasion, as 
         described above, when found making such literal  fucking 
         pigs  of  themselves, and not even giving  her  time  in 
         between  to have a fag and a swig from  the  gin-bottle, 
         more  than  one has been on crutches for  a  week  after 
         sharp finger-nails have gone into their scrotum or  with 
         a  God-Almighty  `snap' heard all over  the  house,  her 
         teeth  have  come  together at  the  wrong  time  whilst 
         chewing the wrong thing.   

            No  matter how high the turn-on  and  sexual-arousal, 
         although often on Friday nights after the bars close, we 
         others could disagree, daughter maintains she is a well-
         bred  woman  first,  a daughter second  and  a  fucking-
         machine  third.    Unless  a  complete  moronic  cretin, 
         relative  or not, someone indiscriminately shagging  her 
         or making her uncomfortable or feeling used never  would 
         even come into the picture, particularly if being  prick 
         enough to be wanting second-helpings another day!

            Thinking herself no different from any other girl who 
         spends   much  of  her  time  evading   her   relatives, 
         daughter's theory is if any of the women in the  stories 
         react  the  way a normal  mother/daughter/sister  would, 
         there  is  possibly some truth in the  story.    If  she 
         doesn't  actually  know, but thinks there may  be,  it's 
         probably a better story than the truth! 

                     __________________________


         Now,  fair-minded,  lady-like young woman that  she  is, 
         darlin'  daughter  is the first to admit  that  everyone 
         will  be  able - and will - shout `but I  CAN  come  ten 
         times in as many minutes', or `my incestuous-sister  HAS 
         44DD  breasts', thereby putting anyone in  `Star-Trek  - 
         Generations'  in  the  shade.    Never  for  one  moment 
         implying  her  observations are anything but  that,  she 
         says  that by applying only a few of them, not  only  do 
         truthful  accounts  start to speak for  themselves,  she 
         gets  much more fun from the stories, and  if  generally 
         applied, the all-round level of writing would inevitably 
         rise.

         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+



           Motto of the Electrical Engineer:

           Working  computer  hardware  is a lot  like  an  erect 
         penis:  it stays up as long as you don't fuck with it.


         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


         "Electra Magazine" is always happy to hear from  readers 
         on any subject at all.

         Of what would you like to read?   Can we improve on  the 
         contents, lay-out and design of the Magazine?


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                 AND NOW, SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT

                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


         Save  for  detail,  rooted in pure fact,  we  present  a 
         highly-unusually  account which normally lives  in  `THE 
         ZOO',  that part of our Archive which only  the  strong-
         hearted  (and "ELECTRA MAGAZINE"  Subscribers) will  one 
         day soon, be permitted to visit.   Part one this  month, 
         and providing Readers Response is favourable,  remaining 
         parts to follow consecutively.

         RESTRICTED  STORY  TO "ELECTRA MAGAZINE" ONLY:  NOT  ALL 
         PARTS OF THIS STORY ARE FREELY AVAILABLE FROM OUR  FILE-
         SERVER 

         
                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


           Points to ponder...


           Ostensibly normal, mother and father, two  respectable 
         people  leading  ostensibly normal lives.   And  in  the 
         car, sitting behind them, a normal 10-year old  daughter 
         and  a  normal  Red Setter.   Happy  they  live  just  a 
         `little bit differently' to everyone else, once stepping 
         over  the line of society's `normal behaviour',  in  the 
         pursuit  of  their personal beliefs  and  concerned  for 
         their  daughter's future, it becomes very  difficult  to 
         know  what  is normal and what is abnormal;  where  does 
         `different'  blur into `bizarre'; `wrong become  right'?    


           With their wants for their family, their attitude  and 
         previous  experiences,  they were  happy.    After  all, 
         Sabine was only gaining: 



                            ENERGY FOR LIFE

                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Heading  home from the annual holiday, concrete  slabs 
         effortlessly  slipping  beneath  the  wheels,  the   car 
         smoothly lapped up the miles.   Relaxed at the wheel, at 
         29,  a very successful career in accountancy within  his 
         grasp,    a  sun-tanned,  good-looking,   energetically-
         adventurous  wife  by  his side and  a  young  daughter, 
         Patrick felt very much at ease with himself.


           Feeling  the  glow of goodwill  coming  from  Carolyn, 
         catching  his glance and turning, revealing  even  white 
         teeth as her lips parted, she smiled at him and  Patrick 
         felt  love rise within.   With a slim body  and  bobbed, 
         dark-brown   hair,  a  catch  for  any  man,   she   had 
         personality.   


           Discovering  many interests in common on  their  first 
         meeting  twelve  years  before,   rarely  a  day  passed 
         without Patrick discovering even more depth and sides to 
         Carolyn's   character.    Matching  education,   tastes, 
         attitudes  to  finance, career and life in  general,  an 
         agreeing  point of view on matters they both  considered 
         important for their family's future, whilst appearing to 
         walk a steady, respectable path, long ago preferring  to 
         accept  responsibility  for their own lives,   by  tacit 
         consent they had privately departed from mundane  habit.   
         Adopting  a  common policy of `try  anything  once'  and 
         `it's  only  illegal if you get caught',  setting  their 
         considerable single-mindedness of purpose to it and firm 
         in  the belief it was for why God had given it to  them, 
         they enjoyed Life.


           Naturally  glancing  in the  driving  mirror,  Patrick 
         suddenly caught sight of the third member of the family.   
         Earnestly watching the country-side speed by as she  sat 
         contentedly  in  the rear of the  car,  their  daughter, 
         Sabine  absent-mindedly  reached out,  her  arm  pulling 
         Charlie to her.   


           Upon each occasion of his gaze falling on the  family-
         pet,  Patrick  had  to smile.     Treated  as  an  equal 
         amongst peers, his shining coat a deep auburn-red,  with 
         a large wet nose, long snout and large, friendly  brown-
         eyes   giving  him  an  appearance  of  always   happily 
         grinning,  Charlie was one of those `personality'  dogs, 
         at four years-old, a happy, lean Red Setter in the  peak 
         of condition.    


           His  eyes  instinctively on the road  ahead,  movement 
         drew attention back to the mirror and Patrick saw Sabine 
         furtively  lean forward and craning her head down at  an 
         awkward  angle,   surreptitiously staring  at  Charlie's 
         lower  abdomen, her hand slid slyly along  the  car-seat 
         and  made  contact.   Shifting his view to take  in  the 
         animal,  excitement  flickered in him as  a  red-tipped, 
         pink,  half-aroused  penis  peeking  from  the  animal's 
         belly,  the back of Sabine's nestling  hand  secretively 
         brushing  it.    Furtively  half-smiling,   her   thighs 
         excitedly clamping together, Sabine's eyes closed,  then 
         the  short-hair  on  Patrick's  neck  standing,  as  her 
         fingers deliberately stroked under the wet-tip,  opening 
         her eyes and noticing her father's gaze on her, heavily-
         flushing as her hand darted back, she quickly looked out 
         of the side-window.


           Over  afternoon tea at a service-area a  little  later 
         on,  enjoying a cigarette, Carolyn and Patrick  absently 
         watched the people in the busy restaurant.  Reaching out 
         to catch Carolyn's attention, touching her arm,  Patrick 
         quietly said, "I think it is about that time."


           Carolyn's  wide-eyes  gazed  at  him,  her  expression 
         puzzled.  Unobtrusively, Patrick gave a little  jerk  of 
         his head in Sabine's direction, and with a start quickly 
         realising to what he was referring and shooting a  quick 
         glance  at her, Carolyn breath caught as she asked,  "Do 
         you really think so?"


           Patrick's voice was just loud enough for her to  hear. 
         "She's   aware."     Silently,  he  mouthed   the   word 
         `Charlie'.


           "O-o-h?", said Carolyn, questioningly. "I wonder  when 
         that  came  about?"  Contemplating Patrick's  words  and 
         turning  in her seat, she regarded their daughter.  Tall 
         for   her   age,  her  young  body  sturdy   and   well-
         proportioned,   her  long  hair  attractively  tied   in 
         bunches,  she  was  a smaller  version  of  her  mother.   
         Wearing a flowered yellow blouse and straight blue skirt 
         and under the table, coltish legs brown with exposure to 
         fresh  air and sunshine, her feet in  white  ankle-socks 
         and  sandals,  as she steadily ate her way  through  her 
         food,  her look of naive innocence made  Carolyn  smile.   
         Oval  faced, enough freckles around her nose to make  it 
         interesting, her mother's wide mouth with a ready  grin, 
         hazel-eyes  completed the picture of a  very  attractive 
         girl of just over ten years of age.   Carolyn looked up.  


           "Perhaps  it was something I said?"   Patrick  grinned 
         at his wife.   "Or did?"


           Smiling  back,  Carolyn flicked ash from  her  glowing 
         cigarette.   "No," she said thoughtfully.   Struck by  a 
         sudden  notion,  she said, "It may have been  the  other 
         morning.    I  thought  we  were  alone,  but  maybe  we 
         weren't."


           Patrick's eyes sparkled.   "Ah, that may well be  it."   
         He smiled.   "After all the efforts we've put in to make 
         sure it stayed undetected," he remarked ironically.


           Carolyn shrugged.   "A Freudian slip, maybe."  Looking 
         back  at the rest of the restaurant, she  said  quietly, 
         "Everything happens for the best.  After all, she's  old 
         enough.    I  was."    She paused.   "How  far,  do  you 
         think?"


           Excitement  rumbling  within  him,  Patrick   replied, 
         "There's only one way.   As far as is comfortable."


           Carolyn played along.   "Monday?"   As Patrick nodded, 
         yawning,  she  stretched.    "What a pity  you  have  to 
         work."    To tease, quite deliberately  looking  Patrick 
         straight in the eye, she smiled, "Who knows what goes on 
         in people's homes whilst bread-winners slave over a  hot 
         computer."


           Grinning  as he mouthed `Bitch', Patrick squeezed  her 
         hand.    Glancing towards Sabine and  seeing  her  empty 
         dessert-dish,  putting his arm round her  shoulders,  he 
         asked, "Did you enjoy that, darling?"


           Giving  a big sigh, Sabine's trusting,  innocent  face 
         looked  up at him.   "It was lovely, Daddy."    Reaching 
         up, she gave him a quick kiss.  "Thank you."


           Patrick pecked the tip of her nose.   "Then it's  time 
         to get rolling again.   Charlie will be wondering  where 
         we have got to."


           Back  in  the  car  and  under  way,  paying   regular 
         attention to the car-mirror, watching Sabine's glance as 
         it  regularly  strayed  towards Charlie,  some  hint  of 
         excited knowledge in her eye made him even surer he  was 
         right.


                            **      *      **  


           From his outstretched position on the lounge-floor the 
         following  Monday evening, as Carolyn  prepared  dinner, 
         Patrick  looked across at Sabine.   Dressed  in  cutaway 
         jeans and a yellow `T'-shirt, her legs tucked underneath 
         her,   her  holiday sun-tan showed starkly  against  the 
         white covering of the armchair she leant against.   "And 
         what have you been up to to-day then, young lady?"


           "It  kept  raining, so we couldn't  go  out,"  replied 
         Sabine.


           "So what did you and Mummy do with yourselves?"  asked 
         Patrick.


           "We  played  a  few games, I  helped  Mummy  with  the 
         housework and then we talked."


           Sensing  the discussion to be a paving-stone,  Patrick 
         enquired, "What did you talk about?"


           "Lots  of things," replied Sabine,  airily.    "Daddy, 
         did you know all living things give off energy?"


           "I  did  hear a rumour about it, yes",  said  Patrick, 
         smiling.   "Why?"


           "Mummy told me.   And she says that the energy  passes 
         from one thing to another.   Did you know that as well?"


           "Mmm,  I  learnt it when I was at  school."    Patrick 
         smiled at her.   "Do you find it interesting?"


           "Yes,  sometimes.   Daddy, if things are warm  because 
         of  the  energy inside them, does that mean  when  I  am 
         cold, something is not right inside me?"


           Patrick laughed.   "No, darling, it means your  energy 
         is  low, that's all.   That's why when they are  chilly, 
         people like to cuddle; it tops up their energy tank."


           "I  like that", said Sabine, thoughtfully.   "Then  is 
         that  why  people kiss each other?   To  pass  on  their 
         energy?"


           "Well,  yes," replied Patrick.   "Then there are  lots 
         of other ways people pass on energy.   And other animals 
         have  lots  of  ways.   People are  human  animals,  you 
         know."


           "Yes,  I know that, Daddy", said  Sabine  impatiently.   
         "They  taught  us  that.   Anyway,  if  it  rains  again 
         tomorrow, Mummy said she'll show me some lovely ways  of 
         passing on energy."


           Standing as Carolyn appeared with dinner, Patrick said 
         "Good.    And  you  can tell me all  about  it  tomorrow 
         evening."    


           Later, with Sabine in bed, with Carolyn laying  across 
         his  legs  as  they absently watched  evening  TV,  idly 
         stroking  her  hair, Patrick whispered,  "Do  you  still 
         think we are doing the right thing, darling?"


           Her  eyes  on the flickering screen,  Carolyn  nodded.   
         "Definitely.    If  she  is getting  the  message,  much 
         better to explain it and treat her as the adult we would 
         want her to become.   We didn't hesitate when she  asked 
         how babies are made and how they arrive, did we?    From 
         the  onset, we've always been open and honest with  her; 
         we've known this time would eventually arrive."


           Patrick thought.   "Do you think she'll take to it?"


           With  a  chuckle,  Carolyn  turned  to  him.    "We'll 
         quickly  know..   If it is within her, it's within  her; 
         all we can do is to give it the opportunity to come out.   
         She's always been happy to accept our lead, we've  never 
         injected  any fear or doubt in her and because of  that, 
         she is a very confident little girl.  Why, aren't you so 
         sure now?"


           "No, it's not that", replied Patrick.  "Just checking.   
         You  know,  since she was born, I've been  all  for  it.   
         I've  never  doubted its wisdom for  one  moment.    But 
         never  having  had  any experience of it,   I  was  only 
         thinking of the other bit."


           Easing  herself comfortable, Carolyn said,  "It  never 
         did  me the slightest harm and actually worked  its  own 
         little miracles."   Slipping an arm around his neck, she 
         gave Patrick a long reassuring kiss.   "It's all  coming 
         true for you, darling.   Enjoy it."
           

           "Do you think everything will be safe?"


           "Will  she tell anyone, do you mean?"   Carolyn  shook 
         her  head. "No, she'll so love it, for fear it would  be 
         taken  away from her, it's the last thing she will  ever 
         mention  to anyone.   Besides, we've always told her  we 
         do things differently to most other people, that because 
         we  trust  each other, we share special  secrets.    She 
         wouldn't go against that."


           Patrick  toyed with her ear.   "And when do you  think 
         you'll make a start?"


           "It  depends  on  the weather",  said  Carolyn.    She 
         giggled.    "Sssh,  watch the weather  forecast.    Your 
         future as a happy father may depend on it."


                            **      *      **  


           Opening  the  front  door to see Patrick  off  to  his 
         office,  watching the teeming summer rain as  he  kissed 
         her good-bye,   wrapped up in her dressing-gown, Carolyn 
         winked  as  she said, "Looks like it's set  in  for  the 
         day."    Feeling  his  erection grow  against  her,  she 
         laughed.   "Now promise me you'll try to concentrate  on 
         your  work.    Just  try!"   Through  the  steady  rain, 
         watching him dash for his car, she called, "And don't be 
         late home."


           "You  bet!".   Shaking  his fist at  her  through  the 
         window, smilingly slamming the car-door shut, as Patrick 
         drove  off  up  the road,  closing  the  front-door  and 
         leaning back against it, Carolyn thought.


           Even  if cutting across convention, since she'd  found 
         herself pregnant with Sabine, to ensure the child was as 
         well-prepared  and  educated  in  life  as  they   could 
         possibly achieve and determined to bring her up as  both 
         her  husband and she saw fit, to bring about the  happy, 
         open relationship they both wanted with their  daughter, 
         Carolyn  realised the next few weeks contained  probably 
         the biggest stepping-stones.  


           Since  birth,  at anything in which  Sabine  displayed 
         interest,  they sought religiously to provide  her  with 
         the  fullest experience the interest contained.    Going 
         through  accepted  rites  and  routines  of  raising   a 
         daughter,  music-lessons, school-outings,  Brownies  and 
         Girl-Guides had all come and gone, hamsters and  rabbits 
         and the raising thereof had enjoyed their day.   


            Reaching  maturity,  Sabine would be armed  with  the 
         surest  weapons with which to defeat  ignorance,  force, 
         cant   and  hypocrisy.    Before  any  of  the   world's 
         cynicisms  and lies caught hold of her, never to  wonder 
         of  the  effect of her actions, from  her  own  positive 
         knowledge and experience,  she'd already know the truth.   
         From  that  basis,  always  able  to  cope,  the  stable 
         confidence she'd amass would help her to see and  combat 
         fear and be happy, and if the learning process contained 
         things  she'd  enjoyed,  curiosity  to  experiment  with 
         things  laid in front of her by other people  for  their 
         own ends wouldn't lead her into traps and problems. 


           If Sabine's sexuality was now stirring, they'd  agreed 
         it  was  to flourish on the broadest possible  basis  of 
         love  they  could devise and with  a  peculiar  churning 
         sensation  within, mentally folding her arms across  her 
         chest  and hugging herself, Carolyn's mind explored  the 
         budding sensuality laying before them.    


             With a military father so often away, and  at a much 
         earlier   age  than  Sabine  was  now,  from  a   secret 
         observation  of something in which her mother  indulged, 
         Carolyn  had learnt to build a confident frame  of  mind 
         and loving attitude which time and again had  handsomely 
         proved its worth.


           Remembering the sins of omission and error from  which 
         she'd suffered as a girl, recalling the answers her  own 
         mind  had  devised  to cope with  them,  Carolyn  became 
         excited. 


           Suddenly lost in childhood memories, as Carolyn  shook 
         herself  from  her  reverie, with a  warm  glow  in  her 
         abdomen, she smiled as she realised she was wet!


            So  in love with him, thinking of Patrick's  part  in 
         her life, Carolyn's heart lifted.   In any case prepared 
         to do absolutely anything for him, in matters concerning 
         their daughter, they were whole-heartedly in  agreement.  
         Aware of joint hopes and desires for Sabine,  his  heart 
         and motivation in the right place, when Sabine was still 
         a  toddler,  Carolyn  had  happily  decided  she'd  give 
         Patrick what he wanted, and from that moment, secure  in 
         their  common heart-to-heart desires, now stronger  than  
         she'd ever dared hope, their relationship had grown at a 
         fantastic rate.    


           Having  agreed,  deciding  to  await  the  right  time 
         revealing  itself, only then making moves,  Patrick  now 
         having  made the observation, upon thinking  of  Sabine, 
         Carolyn  could only happily agree.    If she  was  aware 
         and  displaying interest, before allowing it to  develop 
         in  ignorance,  to capture and guide it, `it  was  about 
         that time'.     


           Going upstairs to collect some towels from the airing-
         cupboard, Carolyn listened to Sabine happily humming  in 
         her bedroom as she dressed.   Putting her head round the 
         main bed-room door, a dozing Charlie raised his head  as 
         she  grinned,   "What are you doing up on our  bed,  you 
         bad  dog?   If he knew, your Dad would skin you  alive."   
         Snapping  her  fingers,  she  said,  "Come  on.    Heel, 
         Charlie."


           Half-interestedly, a languid Charlie uncoiled  himself 
         and slowly wagging his tail, followed Carolyn downstairs 
         to the living-room.   Pointing, she said "Corner!",  and 
         from her tone understanding she was not cross with  him, 
         sitting  with an enquiring look on his face, he  watched 
         as she spread the towels over the carpet.   


           Shedding  her dressing-gown, clad only in the  tiniest 
         of  briefs,  her nipples raised  like  plum-stones  with 
         excitement,  Carolyn sat on the towels.   Aware now what 
         was expected of him, as Charlie gave a small whine,  she 
         rested  back  on her elbows.   Spreading  her  legs  and 
         raising her knees to expose her vulva,  looking over  at 
         an eagerly-wagging Charlie, she pointed at her  abdomen.   
         "Love!"


           Happily  padding over to her, quickly  nosing  between 
         her legs, Charlie's long, red tongue flicked the  gusset 
         of her black panties.   Feeling his hot breath, his warm 
         saliva quickly permeating the thin material, loving  the 
         sensation for a few minutes, her head leaning backwards,  
         Carolyn's  eyes closed slowly as she fondled  the  dog's 
         head. "T-h-a-t's it, love Mummy, good dog, good boy!"   


           Wagging his tail fiercely, looking to enter, Charlie's 
         tongue thrust at Carolyn's labia.   Dropping a knee  and 
         sitting  up  as she pushed him away, stroking  his  soft 
         coat,  she whispered, "Not yet, boy.   You've got a  lot 
         to do in the next few weeks, save it for later, eh?"   


           Surprised  but still wagging expectantly,  as  Charlie 
         backed  off whining, judging whether there  might  after 
         all  be enough time available and looking at his  penis, 
         with a sigh, Carolyn heard the sound of Sabine's bedroom 
         door opening as she went to the bath-room.    Gauging it 
         only  seconds before she descended the  stairs,  opening 
         her  legs  as  before, looking  at  Charlie  and  saying 
         "Down!", Carolyn sharply whispered "Love!"   Dropping to 
         the  floor  and  crawling  forward  on  his  belly,   as 
         Charlie's  cold nose re-entered her groove and her  body 
         started to thrill, she was aware of the living-room door 
         opening.


           "Mummy!    What are you doing?   What's Charlie  doing 
         to you?"   Sabine's said in a shocked voice.


           Charlie  still  snuffling at her vagina,  opening  her 
         eyes,  Carolyn calmly looked at an amazed-faced  Sabine.   
         "Nothing,  darling.   Just giving dear old Charlie  some 
         of my energy.   It makes him a very happy dog."


           Hesitatingly  coming towards them, Sabine's voice  was 
         incredulous.  "Does it really?"


           "Yes.    It's  as I told you yesterday, it's  the  way 
         animals transfer energy to each other.   They need it to 
         be healthy."


           Kneeling by her side, peering down to where  Charlie's 
         tongue  was still trying to gain entrance  to  Carolyn's 
         body,  Sabine  said,  "Is Charlie trying  to  bite  you, 
         Mummy?   Doesn't it hurt?"


           "Oh  no, darling.   It feels wonderful.    That's  why 
         Daddy and I brought Charlie.   His tongue is lovely  and 
         soft and he's so gentle."


           "And  he  gets  energy like  that?"    Sabine's  voice 
         showed interest.


           "It's  one  of the ways I said I'd show  you.    Daddy 
         taught Charlie to be obedient, and every now and  again, 
         such  as now, I give him energy to show him how  pleased 
         we are with him.   He does such a lot for us, it's how I 
         show  him we love him and are grateful.   And  it  makes 
         his  insides feel lovely and warm."   Opening  her  legs 
         again to Charlie, her thrilled fingers clenching as  his 
         tongue  slid  across  her labia, Carolyn  was  aware  of 
         Sabine's  eyes  on  the  wet  patch  on  her   knickers.   
         "That's  where  my energy is  stored.    There's  energy 
         coming  from  my pussy for him now.    See  how  Charlie 
         loves it?"


           Inspecting  the dampness, Sabine slowly  nodded.    "I 
         can see it."   She looked up at Carolyn.   "When do  you 
         give it to him?"


           "Whenever  he looks unhappy or I feel full of  energy, 
         darling.   We each look after Charlie in our own special 
         way.   Daddy takes him for walks, you play with him  and 
         we all give him tit-bits.   This is just my special  way 
         of looking after him.   We all love him.   Don't you?"


           Smiling  broadly, Sabine said, "Oh, yes, he's my  best 
         friend."   Reaching out, she brushed Charlie's back with 
         her hand.   "He does look happy, Mummy." 


           "Shall I give him some more, then?".


           Thinking  for  a moment, Sabine nodded.    "Yes,  he's 
         been  a  good  dog."   Being  brought  up  to  naturally 
         respect the human body as something wonderful, Carolyn's 
         nudity  passed  unnoticed,  but as  Charlie  once  again 
         eagerly snuffled and licked between her mother's thighs, 
         seeing  the excited, rapt expression growing across  her 
         face,  Sabine  became very interested.    "Why  are  you 
         making those funny faces and noises, Mummy?"


           Rubbing  against her panties, her clitoris swelled  as 
         causing  Charlie's  licking to  become  intense,  female 
         hormone  released  into  her  blood-stream.     "Because 
         it...feels so wonderful, that's all."


           "Does  it  really?"    Sabine's  voice  was  low,  her 
         intrigue   combining   with   rising   excitement,   the 
         sensuality  of  her  mother's  movements   communicating 
         itself to her.


           "It's   very  lovely,  darling.    It's  one  of   the 
         loveliest  feelings  in the world."   Glancing  at  her, 
         Carolyn saw Sabine lick her lips and as she looked up at 
         her mother, saw a pleading look in her eyes.    Smiling, 
         Carolyn nodded.  "It'll be all right, my darling.    You 
         can do it if you want."


           "Oh,  yes please."   Eagerly scooting forward  on  her 
         buttocks,   her  plaits bumping against  her  shoulders, 
         sitting  alongside Carolyn, raising her knees to  spread 
         her legs, Sabine's eyes were wide and fascinated as  she 
         stared at Charlie's tongue.


           Reaching over to slip Sabine's skirt up to her thighs, 
         trying  to  pull  Charlie towards  Sabine's  open  legs, 
         Carolyn clicked to the dog.  "Here, boy.   Love!   Love, 
         boy!"


           Deeply  snuffling  in the female  scent  exuding  from 
         Carolyn's   vagina,  Charlie  whimpered  but   continued 
         licking  it.    "Love!", repeated Carolyn  more  firmly.   
         Attempting  to  physically drag the dog  away  from  her 
         vulva, he gave such a show of reluctance, she stopped.


           Disappointed,   Sabine  asked,  "What's   up,   Mummy?   
         Doesn't Charlie want my energy."


           "Yes, darling, of course he does.   It's just that  at 
         the moment, mine is the stronger."   Carolyn closed  her 
         legs,  and  Charlie looked up at her.   Thinking  for  a 
         moment,  turning to Sabine, she said, "Now darling,  you 
         remember  Mummy and Daddy telling you that some  of  the 
         things in which we believe and do, other people would be 
         unhappy and cross about?"


           Solemnly, Sabine nodded.


           "Well,  this  is  one of those times.    This  is  for 
         Daddy,  you,  Charlie  and I, for no-one  else  to  know 
         about.  Do you understand, love?"


           "Yes, Mummy.  Why, is it awful?"


           Carolyn laughed.   "No, my little darling, not at all.   
         But  we  do what we want, and other people  do  as  they 
         want,  and although we are perfectly happy with  letting 
         them do anything, other people are not necessarily happy 
         to  feel  the same way about us.    Because  they  don't 
         understand, or even believe people give off energy, they 
         would be happy to say that giving Charlie our energy  is 
         wrong."    Leaning  over,  she  kissed  Sabine's  cheek.   
         "So, if they would not be happy about it, do we have  to 
         tell them?"


           Looking  relieved,  Sabine  wriggled  as  she  grinned 
         knowingly.   "No, Mummy.   Daddy says we must never make 
         other  people unhappy, so it will be a secret.    Can  I 
         give Charlie my energy now?"


           Regarding  Sabine  with a fond feeling  of  trust  and 
         love,  Carolyn said, "You may have to do what I used  to 
         do when I was your age."


           "Did  you give your dog energy then, Mummy?"    Sabine 
         was  always  interested in hearing  about  her  mother's 
         past.


           "Oh  yes, darling, almost every day, when I came  home 
         from school, from when he was a puppy.   He so loved it, 
         he used to come looking for me, and if I was late  home, 
         he   was  always  disappointed.    Granny  never   knew, 
         though."   Seeing Sabine's enquiring look, Carolyn  gave 
         a little shake of the head.   "She was one of those  who 
         didn't understand about little girls giving energy,  I'm 
         afraid.   You never know who does or who doesn't, so  it 
         is best never to mention it at all."


           "So what are we going to do," asked Sabine.   "How can 
         we tell Charlie I want to give him my energy?"


           "Do you still want to?"


           Sabine nodded vigorously.   "Very much.   I love  him.   
         I want to make his tummy warm."


           "He'll  love that.   Now, dogs understand things  much 
         differently  to people, you understand that.   So we  do 
         special  things  to encourage them to do what  we  want, 
         yes?"    Seeing Sabine's interested look, Carolyn  said,   
         "There are special things in you called chemicals  which 
         dogs  taste, and when they taste them, it sort of  tells 
         them what to do next.   OK so far?"


           Fascinated, Sabine nodded.


           "So we must let Charlie taste your chemicals and he'll 
         understand."


           Enquiringly,  Sabine looked at Carolyn.   "What  do  I 
         do, Mummy?"


           "Do you remember Mummy and Daddy saying that  provided 
         they are happy about it, everything you do here at  home 
         is perfectly all right?"


           Beginning  to  show impatience, Sabine  nodded  again.   
         "Mummy, Daddy and you are always saying it to me!"


           Smiling  reassuringly, Carolyn fondled her hair.    "I 
         know,  darling,  but because you are beginning  to  grow 
         into  a big girl, there are so many exciting  things  to 
         happen  to  you, we want to make sure you are  safe  and 
         happy.   This is one of those times.  What you are going 
         to  do,  I'll help you and Daddy knows  about  it.    So 
         whatever we say, trust us."   


           Sabine nodded.   "But what about Charlie?"


           By way of a reply, quickly gathering moisture from her 
         vagina,  Carolyn  rubbed her fingers  on  Charlie's  wet 
         nose.    Immediately  standing,  his  nose  working,  he 
         watching her hand as it led him between Sabine's  spread 
         legs.    For  a  moment moving to  follow  it  but  then 
         changing  his mind,  long silky ears flopping, his  long 
         head on one side, looking first at his mistress and then 
         Sabine, he whined. "He can sense the chemicals, Sabine."   


           Trying  again,  pulling  his  head  towards   Sabine's 
         thighs,  as  Charlie's  nose came in  contact  with  her 
         knickers,  trying  to get back to Carolyn's  vagina,  he 
         pulled away.


           "We'll  try  something  else,  dear,"  said   Carolyn.   
         "Just do as Mummy says."   


           Still  with  her  skirt around her  waist,  her  knees 
         crooked,  Sabine  looked in amazement as,  pressing  her 
         fingers against the gusset of Sabine's knickers, Carolyn 
         whispered    "Pee   a   little,   darling".      Smiling 
         encouragement at her, Carolyn nodded.   "It's quite  OK, 
         darling.   Charlie will understand."


           Very uncertainly, a look of concentration on her face, 
         as Carolyn felt Sabine's stomach muscles clench, looking 
         down,  she saw a small pool of liquid ooze  through  the 
         white cotton knickers and over her fingers.   


           "There's a good girl.   That should do it."   Smearing 
         dripping   fingers  across  Charlie's  nose,   instantly 
         attracted,  his  long  tongue eagerly  lapped  at  them.   
         Meekly  following  her  hand as she  lured  him  towards 
         Sabine,  as  his head bent towards her  crotch,  Carolyn 
         said,  "Do  a little more, darling.    Charlie's  almost 
         there."


           Excited  now,  Sabine's  eyes  closed  as  she  gently 
         strained.    Warm fluid splashing on his tongue, backing 
         away as his large teeth chattered together, licking  his 
         lips  as  his  nose rubbed  her  inner  thighs,  Charlie 
         inquisitively moved forward and sniffed.


           "A little more, darling."   Carolyn's voice was husky.   
         More  moisture  arriving, Charlie's tongue  extended  to 
         catch  it, and suddenly, moving in close to  Sabine,  he 
         started to gently lap her skin.


           Immediately,  her  legs curling up in a  ball  as  she 
         rolled onto her side, Sabine giggled shyly.   "That feel 
         smashing,  Mummy.   It's so wet and smooth  and  licky."    
         Readily stretching her legs out again, she sat up.  


           "Good," said Carolyn laughing.   "I thought you'd like 
         it  as  much as I"   Well  pleased,  watching  Charlie's 
         snout beginning pushing at Sabine's thighs as he  sought 
         access, pivoting round and rolling onto her stomach  and 
         stretching  out  on the towels, laying her head  on  her 
         arms, Carolyn watched Charlie's steady licking as a glow 
         of  pleasure spread across Sabine's face.   "That's  it, 
         darling.   Charlie's very happy and it's making you feel 
         happy.    Giving  energy  like this is  always  a  happy 
         feeling."   


           Catching  hold  as ready to scratch at  Sabine's  leg, 
         Charlie's  paw  raised itself, Carolyn  chuckled.    "My 
         goodness,  Charlie does like the taste of  your  energy, 
         doesn't he?   He'll always be after it now."   


           Still  leaning back on her elbows, watching  Charlie's 
         tongue  as  it licked and lapped at her  crotch,  Sabine 
         nodded.  Reaching out and taking her mother's hand,  she 
         whispered, "It's making my tummy feel funny, Mummy."


           "And do you like the feeling, my little one?"  Carolyn 
         asked in a low voice.


           "Oh,  yes."   Carolyn felt Sabine's grasp  tighten  as 
         she gasped,  "It feels all sort of...yummy.   It's  sort 
         of tingling."


           "I know", whispered Carolyn, her eyes glistening  with 
         excitement. "Would you like some more?"


           "Oh, please, yes Mummy."


           "Then  just do as I tell you.  It'll be  even  nicer."   
         Sitting  up  and  leaning  across  Sabine's  slim  body, 
         Carolyn  pushed  Charlie back.    Confused  and  sitting 
         down, he looked at her as she murmured to Sabine,  "Take 
         your  knickers  down and open you legs  nice  and  wide, 
         darling."


           Eagerly  responding,  quickly  raising  her  buttocks, 
         Sabine slid her pants to her knees.   Tugging them  over 
         her feet and putting them to one-side, Carolyn smiled as 
         opening  the slim ridges of her labia, Sabine  held  her 
         legs apart.   


           Sliding her fingers across the soft white tummy  below 
         her, Carolyn said, "Here Charlie, here boy!   Love!"


           Understanding  easily  now,  standing  up,  his   nose 
         lowering  as he felt the cool flesh offered to  him,  he 
         gave it a long lick.   Working up and down the  vertical 
         slit,  as  he licked and snuffled, Sabine  gave  excited 
         little  squeals.    "That's it, darling,"  Carolyn  said 
         gently.   "He's getting used to it.   Charlie likes  the 
         taste  of his little mistress."   Slipping her  hand  up 
         the   inside  of  Sabine's  thighs,  feeling  her   body 
         trembling,  Carolyn said, "Here's another  little  thing 
         you  can  do for him," Stretching  Sabine's  labia  lips 
         apart  with  her fingers, with a delighted  little  yelp 
         from Sabine, Charlie's tongue ran across the top of  her 
         protruding clitoris.


           With Sabine beginning to move restlessly, taking  hold 
         of  her  legs,  Carolyn brought them  back  towards  her 
         torso.    Easing  apart  the  curved  roundness  of  her 
         buttocks,  Sabine's vagina and anus-bud  now  completely 
         open and exposed, Charlie's tongue noisily delving  into 
         the  splayed cleft, as her tight, firm belly  heaved  as 
         excitement  spread  through  her,  Sabine  gave   little 
         panting yelps.    


           Momentarily  pushing Charlie's snout out of  the  way, 
         touching the glistening, saliva-coated pink flesh with a 
         delicate  finger,  Carolyn quickly kissed  the  wavering 
         clitoris.    Glancing  over  her  shoulder  and   seeing 
         Sabine's eyes dreamily closed, sliding a finger  beneath 
         it  and raising the sliver of flesh clear of  its  hood, 
         occasionally  touching  it as  Charlie's  tongue  busily 
         licked,  Carolyn  felt  the  firm  abdomen  beneath  her 
         beginning  to  jerk  and appreciating the  onset  of  an 
         orgasm,  as  Charlie licked, trapping  Sabine's  swollen 
         clitoris beneath her finger, she began to rub it.


           Gasping  and  jerking,  her face  bright  red  as  she 
         instinctively  held  her breath, her  hips  bucking  and 
         flexing,  Sabine's  buttocks bounced  on  the  towelling 
         beneath her.   Tightly grasping Carolyn's shoulder,  her 
         little  fingers squeezed as excited emotion ran  through 
         her body, her jerking head bouncing her plaited-hair  up 
         and  down on her slim chest.  Suddenly, Charlie  backing 
         off as her legs began to flail, her head thrashing  from 
         side to side, with an explosive gasp, Sabine came.


           Still   breathing  heavily,  as  her   mother   kissed 
         her,  Sabine's eyes flickered open and suddenly  sitting 
         up, her arms flying round Carolyn's neck, her brown-eyes 
         were  startled  as she said "Oh, Mummy,  what  happened?   
         What happened to me?"


           Soothingly stroking Sabine's hair as she cuddled  her, 
         Carolyn whispered in her ear.   "It's what happens  when 
         your give energy, darling.   When it happened to me  the 
         first time, I liked it very much.   Did you?"


           Silent for a moment, Sabine stammered, "...I don't  k-
         know,  Mummy.   It felt all lovely and then  there  were 
         big bright lights."   Tentatively, her hand went to  her 
         labia.    "It feels sort of nice, all warm  and  creamy.   
         My pussy is kind of buzzing."


           Touching  Sabine's pelvis, Carolyn said, "Mmm,  I  can 
         feel  this glowing."   Gently moving her  hand  upwards, 
         stroking  the  trembling  belly with  her  fingers,  she 
         murmured,  "And this feels lovely and warm,  too.    Can 
         you feel it?"


           After  a  moment, feeling Sabine give  a  little  nod, 
         sliding  down between Sabine's legs,  Carolyn's  fingers 
         stroked  her labia.   "And this feels positively  happy.   
         Can  you feel it as well?"   Pulling away to be able  to 
         look  Sabine lovingly in the face, arranging her  plaits 
         to fall back over her shoulders, she asked, "Happy?"


           Sabine gave a little smile, then suddenly burying  her 
         face  in Carolyn's shoulder, said "It feels lovely  now, 
         Mummy.   And it felt nice at the time, but it frightened 
         me."


           Carolyn  gently  stroked Sabine's  back.    "Well,  it 
         never will again.   It's almost the loveliest feeling  a 
         person  can  feel.    So the next  time,  you  can  look 
         forward to it?   OK?"

           
           Sabine  nodded firmly.   "Did Charlie like my  energy, 
         Mummy?"


           Smiling, Carolyn said, "Well, look for yourself."


           Craning  her neck round, seeing Charlie laying on  the 
         floor,  panting,  Sabine gave a  little  laugh.    "He's 
         laughing  again.    He  always  looks  happy,  but  he's 
         laughing, isn't he, Mummy?"


           "I do believe he is," chuckled Carolyn.   "Now, stroke 
         him while I get us something to drink.   Passing  energy 
         can be pretty thirsty work."   


           Gracefully  rising from the floor, pausing  to  tickle 
         Charlie's  under-side  with her toe, as  Carolyn  walked 
         bare-foot  into  the kitchen, Sabine  leant  forward  to 
         Charlie.  "Did you like my energy, Charlie?"    Ruffling 
         his  ears, she said, "You have a lovely,  licky  tongue.   
         Did  it make you happy?" Charlie obliged with a lick  on 
         the  nose and Sabine stroked his neck.   "Good  Charlie, 
         good dog.   That was nice."


           Returning with glasses of fruit squash,  cross-legged, 
         Carolyn sat on the towels again.   


           Sipping  her drink, her gaze flicking between  Charlie 
         and her mother, Sabine asked, "If I want, can I give  my 
         energy to Charlie again, Mummy?"


           "Yes,  but there's a little more to it than  that,  my 
         darling.    Providing you ask me first, it will  be  all 
         right,  but if we fill Charlie with too much energy,  it 
         makes  him  excited and he starts  barking  and  jumping 
         around.   And if he is a quiet dog, he's a happy dog."


           "Oh."    Somewhat crestfallen, Sabine's  face  dropped 
         slightly.


           Judging Sabine to be open-minded and receptive, taking 
         the  empty  glass from her hand and putting  it  to  one 
         side,  Carolyn laughed.   "Cheer up, Sabbie.   If it  is 
         all right for us to give Charlie energy, then it must be 
         OK for him to give us some of his, yes?"


           Immediately  brightening  up, Sabine  asked,  "But  he 
         doesn't  wear  knickers." Thoughtfully,  she  stared  at 
         Charlie.   "How do we do that?"      


           "Would you like to find out?" Carolyn asked.


           "Oh,  yes."   Rising to one knee, Sabine made to  pull 
         Charlie to her.


           "No, wait a minute, darling.   Let's get things  ready 
         first."


           Straightening out the towels and replacing them on the 
         floor, Carolyn said, "This can get a little messy so  it 
         would be better if you take your clothes off."


           Without hesitation, her hands going to the zip of  her 
         skirt,  Sabine  stood.    Dropping the  garment  on  the 
         floor, unbuttoning her blouse and shedding it,  kneeling 
         down, she removed her white socks and sandals.    Naked, 
         she asked, "Now what, Mummy?"


           Kneeling upright, Carolyn said to Charlie, "Stand!"


           Obediently, his tail eternally wagging, Charlie got to 
         his  paws.    Gently  holding the scruff  of  his  neck, 
         wriggling closer to his body, Carolyn said, "Kneel  down 
         like I am, darling."


           Intrigued,  Sabine knelt.   Taking hold of one of  her 
         hands, Carolyn slid it under Charlie's belly.   "Can you 
         feel anything?"


           Groping,  as  she  looked  at  Carolyn,   accidentally 
         brushing  Charlie's penis, a blush on her  face,  Sabine 
         immediately withdrew her hand. 


           Carolyn  smiled.    "It's quite OK, darling,  you  can 
         touch  it.    If Mummy is happy to do it,  you  can  be.  
         It's another thing other people wouldn't understand, but 
         it  is quite OK if I say so.    All we want to do is  to 
         make  Charlie comfortable, isn't it?"    Carolyn's  tone 
         suddenly became intense as she looked Sabine deep in her 
         eyes.    "And Daddy and I know you really want  to  play 
         with it.   We've seen you touching it."


            Saying  nothing but looking fearful,  Sabine  jumped, 
         her face turning red.


           "It's  all  right,  Sabine.   Your  mother  knows  all 
         about you.  You'd really like to, wouldn't you?"


           Hesitating, Sabine nodded slowly.


           "Then, there's lots of things I'll show you.   I  like 
         playing with it, too.   Here, let me show you how."    


           Assured by the friendly look on her mother's face,  as 
         Carolyn again guided Sabine's little hand under Charlie, 
         when  it  brushed  against  his  solid  penis,   smiling 
         comfortably,  Sabine  let it happen.   Looking  back  to 
         Carolyn, suddenly realising her mother had ducked  down, 
         lowering her head and catching sight of Carolyn  pulling 
         a  funny  face at her between Charlie's front  and  back 
         legs, she suddenly giggled.


           Reaching  through  to hold Sabine's  fingers,  Carolyn 
         said,  "Now,  this  is very important.    This  part  of 
         Charlie  is very, very sensitive, so we must  always  be 
         very  gentle with it.   If you do it properly, he'll  be 
         very  happy,  but if you hurt him, all he can do  is  to 
         snap  at  you,  and may not be happy to let  you  do  it 
         again.   Understand, darling?"


           Much  more  confident  and  grinning,  Sabine  nodded.   
         "It's called a penis, isn't it, Mummy?"


           Carolyn  grinned back.   "That's its proper  name  but 
         sometimes, when we are at home, I call it a dickie or  a 
         cock, there are lots of names for it.   But only when we 
         are at home, remember."   Sliding Sabine's  outstretched 
         fingers  to  take  hold of  Charlie's  penis,  his  head 
         between his front legs, he looked at them.


           Looking  at him anxiously, Sabine said, "Is he  saying 
         he likes it, Mummy?"


           "Charlie loves having his dickie played with,"  smiled 
         Carolyn.


           Sabine's  voice suddenly dropped.  "This is  what  you 
         were doing on holiday, wasn't it, Mummy?   I saw you."


           "Poor old Charlie wasn't very comfortable, so I helped 
         him.    Daddy  and I thought you weren't big  enough  to 
         understand,  but  now we think you are.   I  often  help 
         Charlie.   And once I've shown you how to do it, you can 
         help him to."


           Stroking    Charlie's    flanks,    Sabine    shivered 
         appreciatively.    "Good Charlie," she said.    "Now  we 
         can be lovely friends."  Putting her arms round the dogs 
         neck, she gave him a big hug and kissed him between  his 
         ears.   Charlie's  tail wagged as ducking her  head  and 
         looking  through  his  legs  once  again,  she  said  to 
         Carolyn,  "Charlie says he'll be much happier  from  now 
         on."


           Slipping her arm around Charlie's hips, her hand  flat 
         against  the animal's flank, Carolyn  grinned.    "Good.  
         Now put your arm round his rear-legs like Mummy's."


           Inching closer to Charlie, peering over the dog's hips 
         to   check   her  hand  position,   Sabine   looked   up 
         expectantly.   "Right, I've done that."


           "Fine.   Now look under his tummy again."


           Still holding Charlie steady, from her position behind 
         him,  comfortably  able to lean  forward,  Sabine  again 
         found  herself looking into her mother's  smiling  eyes.   
         Following  Carolyn's gaze, looking up and realising  the 
         dog's  penis  was only inches away from  her  face,  she 
         smiled as she saw Carolyn's hand gently slip around  the 
         animal's  shaft.    Uncertainly  reaching,  feeling  the 
         hot/cold  flesh  in  the  palm  of  her  hand,  giggling 
         nervously,  she allowed Carolyn's fingers to  slip  over 
         the  top  of hers.   "There we are  darling,  from  this 
         position,  you  can do it and watch  everything  happen.   
         Comfortable?"


           Smiling  as she excitedly nodded, her  mother  guiding 
         Sabine's fingers to feel the soft firmness of  Charlie's 
         penis  slide into her palm of her hand, her eyes  opened 
         with  fascination  as she watched two  inches  of  pink, 
         pointed  shaft  appear.   Unconsciously, Sabine  gave  a 
         little shudder of excitement.   "It's lovely, Mummy."


           "I know, darling.   Now do this."   Gently easing  her 
         fingers  to  slip  under  the  swelling  penis,  curling 
         fingers and thumb round it as Sabine followed her  lead, 
         Carolyn  began to gently masturbate the dog.   "See  how 
         lovely  and  long it gets, Sabine,  longer  and  longer.   
         Charlie loves us doing this."


           Quickly, the shiny penis lengthened, the tip  drooping 
         towards the floor, and feeling the rapidly-heated  shaft 
         thicken  beneath  her  grasp,  spellbound,  sudden  fire 
         shivered  in  Sabine's vagina.    Startled,  looking  at 
         Carolyn,  her mother smiled.   "I know, darling.    Your 
         pussy  has  just got hot.   That's the  energy  working.   
         Mummy's  is  like that as well.   It's  exciting,  isn't 
         it?"

                    
         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+

         In  PART TWO, Sabine spends a morning with  her  mother.   

         And Charlie.


         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+



          Cunnilingus is next to godliness. -- Linda Lovelace 









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            Ref:  10/01/BS:  A number of video films for sale  or 
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            Laboratory.   Reply: 1001.


            Ref:  10/03/CA    Binaries  for  exchange  or  w.h.y. 
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         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+




                       "ELECTRA AND HER DAUGHTERS"

                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


           Continuing  our  series of true `Electra'  accounts  - 
         incestuous  relationships  commenced and  maintained  by 
         females, we present: 



           Elizabeth: "A slip in the pool." 

           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


           Dear Dr. Woods: 


           My  name  is  Elizabeth. I am 22 years  old  and  will 
         graduate  from  college  this spring with  a  degree  in 
         English. As for `Vital Statistics,' I am five feet, four 
         inches tall and  even though the guy I'm dating insists, 
         at  most,  I am `pleasingly plump, would  like  to  lose 
         about five-ten pounds.' He also tells me - and he  isn't 
         the  only  one  -  I am quite pretty  and  that  I  have 
         `kissable  lips,'  which  is  why  I  wear  bright   red 
         lipstick.  My  hair is blonde and shoulder  length  with 
         what I think is a very nice wave in it, and my eyes  are 
         a very deep blue. 


           As  for  sex,  I don't know  exactly  when  I  started 
         masturbating, but I do remember by the time I was  about 
         five  years old, I was sticking my thumb into my  vagina 
         and moving it in and out until a nice, shuddery  feeling 
         flowed  through my body. Then I would take my thumb  out 
         of my vagina, put it in my mouth, and suck on it until I 
         went to sleep! 


           When  I  was  twelve,  almost  thirteen,  I  lost   my 
         virginity to Mark, the boy who lived next door. He was a 
         few  months  older  than  I,  and  we'd  been  next-door 
         neighbors all our lives. As long as I could remember, he 
         was  constantly  at our house, where we  played  various 
         games - yes, including `doctor' (which didn't amount  to 
         much  more  than just looking at each  other's  `things' 
         when we were children) - or swim in our pool. 


           One day at the time I'm talking about, we were sitting 
         on the settee and got to comparing notes about what we'd 
         been  told about sex and Mark got a lump in  his  pants.   
         I giggled at it, and he asked me if I'd ever seen a hard 
         `prick.'  During our playing `doctor,' I suppose  I  had 
         but I said I hadn't, and he asked me if I'd like to  see 
         it.    My curiosity very strong, I finally said I would. 
         Unzipping  his trousers and pulling his penis out  so  I 
         could look at it, he asked me if I'd like to touch it. I 
         was  pretty  scared, but that old curiosity  thing,  you 
         know! 

           As  I touched its tip with my finger, he took my  hand 
         and wrapped my fingers around it. It was just as long as 
         the  palm of my hand was wide and although I don't  know 
         what I expected, the looseness of the skin surprised me. 
         Moving  the skin up and down on it felt really good,  he 
         told  me, but after I did it for a minute, he  said  I'd 
         better stop because he might `shoot' and if he got stuff 
         on his pants, his mother would fuss at him. 


           When  I asked Mark if he played with it very much,  he 
         said  nearly every night, when he was in bed.   I  said, 
         "Me, too!" which made him look kind of surprised. 


           "Do girls jack off?" he asked. 


            "Is  that what boys call it?  Girls call it  `finger-
         fucking'." 


           Mark laughed and said, "And you do it, too?" 


           Shrugging  my shoulders, I replied, "Sure,"  and  told 
         him  about putting my thumb in my `hole.' But not how  I 
         used to suck my thumb afterward! 


           Mark  asked if I'd ever let a boy do it to me,  and  I 
         shook  my  head, no. Looking down at  his  still-exposed 
         penis and back at me, he said, "Do you want to do it?" 


           "Oh, boy!" I said. "I don't know about that!" 


           "Come on," Mark urged me. 


           I asked Mark if he'd ever done it to a girl, and  when 
         he said he hadn't, I asked him how we'd know if we  were 
         doing it right. 


           Giving  me a kind of conspiratorial grin,  Mark  said, 
         "Well, we could try the way we'd been told and see if it 
         worked". 


           Scared because I was afraid it would hurt, I was dying 
         to  try it. Mark promised if it hurt, he'd stop, and  he 
         crossed his heart. 


           Very intrigued, and my mother and father not due  home 
         for another hour or more, I looked back at him and said, 
         "You promise you'll stop the minute I tell you to if  it 
         hurts?" 


           Mark nodded his head vigorously and crossed his  heart 
         again. 


           As Mark pulled his pants and shorts down, I pulled  my 
         panties  off, and we laid down on the sofa. Laying  down 
         on  top of me, he started poking around with  his  penis 
         until  I  finally  got  hold of it and  put  it  at  the 
         entrance  to  my hole. "There," I said,  and  he  pushed 
         forward. Because of all the messing around we'd done,  I 
         was  very wet down there so and he slipped right  in.  I 
         think both of us were very surprised at the feeling. 


           Mark pushed himself up and looked down between us, and 
         I  guess there's an inborn instinct in males that  makes 
         them  know what to do, because he started moving  it  in 
         and out and it felt really good! 


           Years  later,  I know I had undoubtedly  destroyed  my 
         hymen with my thumb, and that was why I didn't feel  any 
         pain  that first time. Besides, Mark's penis wasn't  all 
         that  much bigger than my thumb in girth!  As my  bottom 
         started  moving  up  and down  to  meet  his  in-and-out 
         strokes, all I felt was a warm, glowing feeling  between 
         my thighs. 


           Like  he was pumping his bicycle up a hill, it  wasn't 
         long before Mark started grunting and moving his  bottom 
         faster  and  faster.    Then  his  whole  body  kind  of 
         stiffened and at the same time, I got that feeling in my 
         little pussy!  I've always graphically thought of it  as 
         the  burst of a fireworks rocket in the  air,  showering 
         beautifully-colored sparks all over the night sky. 


           Afterwards, we sort of collapsed together on the sofa.  
         While  I  was pulling my skirt down to  cover  me,  Mark 
         rolled off of me after a minute and sat up, grinning  at 
         me. "Boy! It never feels that good when I jack off! That 
         was fun!" 


           Returning  his grin and giggling, I gave several  nods 
         of  my  head.  "Beats the heck  out  of  `Monopoly!'"  I 
         observed. 


           Kind  of  surprised at my reaction, Mark asked  me  if 
         girls  `came,' too, and I asked, "Is that what you  call 
         it when it feels like a rocket going off inside you?" 


           "Yeah!"  he said. Pulling his pants and shorts  up,  I 
         put my panties back on, and we played `Double Solitaire' 
         until my folks came home. 


           My parents had a Real Estate office together, so  they 
         were  never  home  when I got out of  school,  and  this 
         enabled Mark and me to play our new `game' pretty  often 
         after  that. This went on for about a year, and  then  I 
         began  having my `monthlies.' From what I'd  learned  in 
         Sex Education, I knew a girl who menstruates can be made 
         pregnant, so that kind of put a damper on our activities 
         for a while. That is, until I got a brilliant idea! 


           At almost fourteen, I was growing up. My `boobs'  were 
         getting to look more like `boobs' than bee stings on  my 
         chest,  and  there was blonde fuzz growing on  my  pussy 
         mound.  But I started getting `zits' on my face so,  one 
         night after dinner, I asked Mom if I could talk to  her, 
         When she said okay. I took a deep breath and started in, 
         telling her some of the girls at school were having  the 
         same  problems  with their complexions as I,  and  their 
         mothers got their doctor to prescribe the pill for them, 
         and it really cleared them up. 


           "What  pill?"  Mom  asked, and  she  looked  like  she 
         honestly didn't know. 


           "You know," I said. "The pill," and I glanced over  at 
         Daddy, who just cleared his throat and turned a page  of 
         the newspaper he was reading. 


           "Oh,"  said  Mom,  and her face turned  kind  of  red. 
         "Well, I don't know about that! You're awfully young  to 
         be taking a contraceptive." Then she looked at Dad - for 
         support, I guess - but he kind of frowned to himself and 
         ignored us. 


           "Oh, it wouldn't be, like, a contraceptive," I argued. 
         "It'd  just  be something to keep me from  having  these 
         zits." 


           Mom  looked thoughtful for a minute and then asked  if 
         it  really helped the other  girls' complexions,  and  I 
         said,  "Oh,  yes! You wouldn't believe how  clear  their 
         skins got after they started taking them." (Actually,  I 
         couldn't  really tell much difference when I  looked  at 
         the girls who'd told me about it.) 


           Looking worried for another minute or so, Mom put  her 
         hand on my arm. "We'll see." 


           Knowing `we'll see' meant `no' 99 percent of the time, 
         I wailed, "Oh, Mom!," but she assured me she would `look 
         into  it,' and if it would help my complexion, she'd  go 
         along with it. Then she hugged me and said she knew what 
         I  was  going through. "If the pill will help,  well,  I 
         just wish they'd known about that when I was your age!" 


           I guess she did do some `research' which satisfied her 
         it was worth a try, because when I brought it up again a 
         few  days  later,  she said `okay' and took  me  to  the 
         doctor to get me the prescription. 


           As  soon as the pills `took hold,' I guess  you  could 
         say,  Mark and I went at it again. It was really  great!  
         Not  having  to worry about getting knocked  up,  I  was 
         getting to where I wanted to do it just about every time 
         he  and  I were alone. If there were such a thing  as  a 
         `sex addict,' I guess you'd have to say I was getting to 
         be  one real fast! But I hasten to add that Mark was  my 
         only partner, and I made him promise I would be his only 
         partner.  We'd  learned  about  some  of  the   dreadful 
         diseases  you can get from sex, and we certainly  didn't 
         want  to  take any chances about that! Also, more  of  a 
         consideration  for  me,  I'd overheard a boy  telling  a 
         friend  that  a  certain  girl  was  a  `dart  board'  - 
         everybody was `sticking it in her'  and I didn't want to 
         get  a `reputation' at school! And, to my  surprise,  my 
         complexion began to clear up, too! 


           Then,  when  Mark and I were sophomores, he  `fell  in 
         love.'  I guess I was just `the girl next door' (who  he 
         fucked  all  the time!), and Peggy was somebody  new.  A 
         brunette,  she  was  a pretty girl and  he  went  around 
         mooning  over her all the time. Most days, he went  with 
         her after school and had a soda or something at the "A & 
         W," but one day, after he'd walked her home, wanting  to 
         do it with me, he came to our house. 


           "Why don't you do it with Peggy?" I asked, sneering at 
         him  because  I knew Peggy's mother was always  at  home 
         when  she got there after school, and being such a  nice 
         girl, Peggy probably wouldn't let him! 


           This, of course, brought on an argument. Mark told  me 
         when  a  boy got over-excited, his  testicles  hurt  him 
         something  awful,  and  because he and  Peggy  had  been 
         smooching,  he had the `stone aches.' 


           "Oh,  you take Peggy to the `A&W' and buy her  a  soda 
         and  then you kiss her until you get really horny"  -  a 
         word  he'd taught me - "and then you want me to let  you 
         fuck  me. Well, you just go home and jack off  like  you 
         used  to  do,  because  you're not going  to  do  it  me 
         anymore.   Ever!" That sent him stomping angrily out  of 
         the house.   And me upstairs to masturbate. 


           Then school was out for the summer vacation.   As they 
         usually  did when I was home alone during the  day,  Mom 
         and Dad made an arrangement with Mark's mother to  `keep 
         an eye' on me. I was fifteen. 


           Two  weeks  into summer vacation, Mom got a  call  her 
         mother  had had a stroke and she had to go to help  out. 
         Leaving  on  a  Sunday night, several  days  later,  she 
         called and said it was going to be a long `siege.' 


           The  days  following  were  pretty  boring.  Mark  was 
         spending every minute with Peggy, and I had not  thought 
         of  getting  a  new boyfriend  for  myself.  The  school 
         `jocks'  were always talking about sports, and the  non-
         jocks  were really a bunch of nerds! I watched  some  TV 
         and read a lot of those "Romance Novels."  Once or twice 
         every  day, when I got to the `seduction  scenes'  where 
         the hero pushes the heroine back in the hay and gets  on 
         top of her, I'd masturbate. Sometimes I'd go to a  movie 
         but, in general, I was bored! 


           Like  I mentioned before, curiosity has played  a  big 
         part in my life.   Mom had been gone about ten days when 
         I  made  a  very surprising discovery.   I  went  to  my 
         parents'  room  and  started  digging  around  in  Mom's 
         dresser drawers. To be perfectly honest, I knew my  body 
         was getting to look pretty sexy; my breasts were a  nice 
         size, almost as big as Mom's, and my bottom was firm and 
         well-rounded  and  I was looking to see if Mom  had  any 
         really  sexy,  grown-up underthings I could put  on  and 
         look at myself in the mirror. 


           Digging down to the bottom of her underwear drawer, in 
         a  back corner, my hands came in contact with  something 
         like  a flashlight. Pulling it out, imagine my  surprise 
         when I found myself holding a plastic tube, tapering  to 
         a  rounded point at one end. Its bottom turned a  little 
         bit in my fingers, so I twisted it and then I was really 
         surprised!  The gadget nearly vibrated right out  of  my 
         hand!  Its penis-shape registered on my brain -  like  I 
         said,  my  mind was pretty well hung up on sex  at  that 
         time (and still is!) - and I laughed to myself. Oh, boy! 
         What you could do with that! I don't think it ever  even 
         occurred  to me to wonder what Mom did with it, but  its 
         possibilities didn't escape me! Not at all! 


           Once,  I'd tried a banana, but it got  awfully  mushy. 
         And  a girl I knew had told me about using  a  cucumber, 
         but  nobody  in our house liked cucumbers, and  I  could 
         hardly  go to the store and buy one myself!   Anyhow,  I 
         don't  know  why,  since nobody was home but  me  and  I 
         forgot  to  do it on a more important occasion,  as  you 
         will see, I didn't waste any time taking the thing to my 
         room  and closing and locking the door.   Stripping  off 
         naked and laying down on my bed, holding the vibrator in 
         my  hands  and examining it carefully, I  turned  it  on 
         again. 


           Gingerly putting the tip to my pussy lips, I rubbed it 
         up and down, and it felt great! Then I got it up  around 
         my  clitoris and it just drove me right up the wall!  My 
         butt  was jerking around almost as fast as the  vibrator 
         was  vibrating,  and  I  kept it up  until  I  felt  the 
         `explosion' about to go off between my thighs. I thought 
         about  putting  it in me, but it was kind of big,  so  I 
         just laid it lengthways down my slit and rocked it  back 
         and forth so the middle would touch my clit and then the 
         bottom  end  would  touch the  entrance  to  my  vagina. 
         Suddenly,  between  my legs, all hell  broke!  I  nearly 
         screamed  out loud when I came! I'd never felt  anything 
         like it before, that's for sure! 


           When  the  feelings  had died away, I  looked  at  the 
         instrument  in  awe.    Thinking `What  a  machine!',  I 
         slipped it into the drawer of my bedside table behind  a 
         couple  of  those novels I kept there  (with  the  pages 
         turned  down where the sex scenes were). I  figured  I'd 
         keep it until Mom came back, anyhow. 


           The next night, Friday, Dad told me he'd signed up for 
         a  golf  tournament for Saturday morning.  He'd  thought 
         Mom'd be back before it came up, so he didn't cancel and 
         he  couldn't very well get out of it now. Did I want  to 
         come  and  ride in his cart with him?    I  wasn't  wild 
         about  the idea of four hours in a golf cart, but  since 
         Daddy had to be at his office during the week, I  wanted 
         to  be with him as much as possible on week ends.  Still 
         under  forty  years  old at the time,  he  was  a  slim, 
         handsome man, and I was very proud of him. Several of my 
         girl friends had told me they thought Dad was  "dreamy." 
         He  was much better looking - and younger -  than  their 
         fathers. So I said I'd love to. 


           The golf tournament was kind of boring. Dad's foursome 
         wasn't  doing very well, so he got kind of grouchy.  But  
         looking like she was maybe 5-6 years older than me, when 
         the pretty, red-headed, well-stacked `drinks girl,' came 
         past in her cart and Dad bought a beer, I noticed he was 
         having  a  hard  time keeping his eyes off  of  her.  In 
         tight, short shorts, she did have a cute little butt and 
         her blouse was tied in a knot under her breasts -  which 
         were  maybe  a  little bigger than mine  -  leaving  her 
         tanned  stomach  bare all the way down to two  or  three 
         inches below her belly-button. 


           When  Dad got back in the cart, I noticed a  bulge  in 
         the front of his golf shorts. That made me think he must 
         miss  Mom a lot! And I got kind of jealous of  the  red-
         head. 


           The  tournament  finally over, we had lunch  and  then 
         went home.  Saying he was feeling kind of sweaty,  Daddy 
         thought  he'd  take a dip in the pool. I said  I'd  join 
         him,  and I went up to my room for the bikini which  Mom 
         had very reluctantly let me buy just before she left. 


           When I got to the pool, Dad was already in it and when 
         he  looked  around  at me, his eyes got  kind  of  wide. 
         "Wow!" he said. "What a doll!" To hide my blush, jumping 
         in  and  swimming  a  couple of  laps,  I  then  started 
         splashing  water at him. He laughed and started  for  me 
         like he was going to duck me, and I swam away from  him, 
         laughing.  We horsed around for a short time, and  after 
         splashing  his  face, when I started to swim  away  from 
         him,  he  caught me by the ankle and  wouldn't  let  go. 
         Trying  to kick myself clear of him, turning around  and 
         pulling  myself close to him, I put my arms  around  his 
         neck  and my legs around his waist. All of a  sudden,  I 
         realized my half-covered breasts were mashed against his 
         face with his nose buried between them.   Sliding down a 
         ways,  I  became aware of something pressed  against  my 
         crotch. 


           Dad's  penis  was pointed straight up  in  his  tight-
         fitting  swimming trunks.    It was hard, my  pussy  was 
         right up against it and our laughter faded out.  Looking 
         up into Daddy's face, his eyes looked kind of  surprised 
         and  glazed-over,  and  his  jaw  was  clenched   tight.    
         Daddy  had  gotten  a hard-on from  his  body  being  in 
         contact with me!      


           My  head spinning, I jerked away and swam to the  deep 
         end  of  the pool.   It took several  seconds  before  I 
         could make myself turn and look at him again, but when I 
         did,  carefully  avoiding  looking  toward  me,  he  was 
         skimming the leaves from the pool and sipping beer. 


           Breathing  hard  at the memory of our  genitals  being 
         pressed  against  each other, I could  feel  a  tingling 
         between my legs  and my nipples were so hard they almost 
         hurt.  Wild thoughts racing in my brain, for a minute or 
         so,  I  clung to the edge of the pool. Daddy,  from  his 
         reaction  to the `doll' at the golf course - and to  me, 
         another  `doll,'  in the swimming pool -  was  obviously 
         feeling the effects of his enforced celibacy. And not to 
         be  outdone, I was feeling the same effects at the  loss 
         of my own sex partner, Mark. 


           Quickly, I climbed out of the pool and ran upstairs to 
         my room. I was in such a hurry, I almost jumped onto  my 
         bed  with my wet bikini still on, but managed to rip  it 
         off before I laid down and wrenching open the drawer  of 
         my  bedside table, in no time, I had the vibrator in  my 
         hands and was turning it on. I had felt Daddy's penis up 
         against  my pussy! I re-created the feeling by  pressing 
         the  vibrator against me between my legs and turning  it 
         on. A crazy thought ran through my mind - `What if  he'd 
         pulled  the crotch of my bikini bottom to the  side  and 
         his  own trunks down and had stuck it in me while I  had 
         my legs around him!' Putting the tip of the vibrator  to 
         my  weeping  hole, I slowly pushed it in  until  it  was 
         fully embedded. That's what it would feel like! 


           Closing  my eyes, I turned the vibrator off -  Daddy's 
         cock  didn't  have batteries or a motor! With  my  right 
         hand, I slowly pushed the plastic `penis' in and out  of 
         my pussy, my butt starting to make little circles around 
         it.  Putting the fingers of my left hand to work  on  my 
         clit, I was too engrossed in the feelings I was creating 
         between  my legs to remember this time, I hadn't  locked 
         my  door - something subconscious there? - and I  didn't 
         hear  Dad open it. The first thing I heard was his  gasp 
         and, "Oh, Jesus!" bursting from his lips. 


           The doorknob in his hand and his jaw sagging open,  my 
         eyes flew open to find him standing in my doorway.  He'd 
         changed from his swimming trunks into clean golf shorts.  
         His eyes wide and fastened on my crotch, only then did I 
         think of removing the vibrator and try to cover  myself. 
         Scrambling  around in the bed, pulling the bedspread  up 
         to  hide my naked body, I still had the vibrator  in  my 
         hand,  at  a loss what to do with it.  Finally,  I  just 
         stuck it under the covers. 


           Hardly  able to tell him the feel of his cock  against 
         my  pussy had so turned me on, I'd had to do what I  was 
         doing, I said "Daddy," but didn't know how to go on. 


           Slowly,  Daddy walked to the bed and sat  down.  "That 
         was a kind of hasty retreat, wasn't it?" he said. 


           Still unable to speak, I nodded my head. 


           "Was  it because my - thing - touched you?" he  asked, 
         and as I nodded again, he put his hands on my shoulders. 
         "Sweetheart, I'm sorry if I frightened you." 


           "You didn't frighten me," I protested, quickly. 


           "Well, whatever I did, I'm sorry," he said. "You  see, 
         Honey, if a man's wife is gone for while and he can't  - 
         uh - " 


           "Have intercourse?" I interjected. 


           Daddy glanced at me and nodded his head. "Then he gets 
         - uh - " 


           "-  the stone-aches?" I finished for  him,  regretting 
         the words as soon as they were out of my mouth! 


           A slight grin on his face, Dad looked into my eyes and 
         asked where I'd heard that term.   Untruthfully, I  told 
         him the brother of a girl I knew had told her about  it, 
         and she'd told me. Then I looked into his eyes. "Are you 
         having that kind of problem, Daddy?" 


           Dropping his hands from me, he heaved a deep sigh  and 
         looked  away.    "Well, I do miss your mother,  quite  a 
         bit". 


           I  said  I'd noticed him looking at the  girl  in  the 
         `drinks  cart' at the course, and nodding his head  once 
         or twice, his face turned a little red.   I asked him if 
         he'd  been thinking he'd like to have sex with her,  but 
         before he could answer, rather hesitantly, I told him as 
         he got back in the cart, I'd seen a lump in his  shorts, 
         like the one in his swimsuit. 


           He  said she was a very sexy-looking young lady.  "Any 
         man  would  think about that, especially  if  he'd  been 
         deprived as long as I have." 


           "Am I as pretty as she is?" I asked, looking into  his 
         eyes. 


           "Much prettier, Beth," he said. "Much, much prettier." 


           "Is my body as sexy as hers?" I asked. 


           Swallowing  hard, Dad then kind of laughed. Trying  to 
         lighten  up  the conversation, I guess, he  said  "Well, 
         that bikini of yours certainly doesn't leave much to the 
         imagination." 


           "Is  that  why you got the lump in your  swimsuit?"  I 
         went on. "Is my body as sexy as hers?" 


           He nodded his head, and looked away from me, giving  a 
         deep sigh. 


           Putting  my  head on his shoulder, I lowered  my  left 
         hand  to  Daddy's thigh. My fingers  brushed  the  stiff 
         hairs  there and I said, in just above a whisper,  "When 
         your   thing  got hard in the pool," I gulped  and  then 
         went  on,  "did that mean that you were  thinking  you'd 
         like  to have sex with me?" And I let my  fingers  steal 
         toward his crotch.    Moving my head so I could see into 
         his  lap,  surprise!  surprise!, there was  a  big  lump 
         there. 


           Dad  pushed on my shoulders to move me away  from  him 
         and  looked down into my face. "Oh, no, darling!  You're 
         my daughter!" he protested.   Trying to get it out  from 
         under  my  fingers, he moved his thigh,  but  that  just 
         served  to  let my hand drop further  down  between  his 
         legs.  


           Gingerly  moving it deeper into his crotch, the  backs 
         of  my  fingers brushed against his erection.  Still  in 
         almost  a  whisper, I said, "Then why is it  hard  now?"   
         He sounded like he was choking on words that refused  to 
         form  in  his mouth.  Letting the covers  drop  from  my 
         breasts,  I  threw  my right arm around  his  waist  and 
         pressed my head against his hairy chest. "Daddy, you  do 
         want  to. Or you wouldn't have this," and I pressed  the 
         backs  of my fingers against his hardness. "And  I  want 
         you to!" 


           "No! No, you don't!"  said Dad. 


           Trying to push me away, I held on to him and mashed my 
         cheek  against him. "I do! Why do you think I  had  that 
         thing in me?" I cried. "I'd felt your thing in the  pool 
         and I was pretending it was you!" 


           In desperation, I closed my fingers around the lump in 
         Dad's  shorts and squeezed.   Waiting to see what  would 
         happen, I held my breath and then I felt his body slowly 
         slump  down.  It was as if the air was going  out  of  a 
         balloon, and he quit trying to pull away.   Enfolded  in 
         each other's arms, it seemed like forever we sat  there, 
         his  arms around my shoulders, my head on his chest  and 
         my fingers quietly continuing to massage his erection. 


           Finally, Dad pulled back and looked down into my face. 
         He  stared  into my eyes for a long time,  then  looking 
         down at my bared breasts, he said, "Thank God you're  on 
         the  pill." Easing me down onto the bed, exposing me  in 
         all my nakedness, he pulled the cover away from me. 


           The vibrator rolled into view, and he picked it up and 
         looking at it for a moment, put it on the bedside  table 
         and said, "You won't be needing this." 


           Sucking one of my nipples into his mouth and  tweaking 
         it  with his tongue, Daddy leant across me and bent  his 
         head.  Mark had never sucked my breasts, so the  feeling 
         it  generated - both in my breast and between my legs  - 
         was  a  new  one for me.   Delighting in it  for  a  few 
         moments, I lay there, and then pulling away, Dad removed 
         his shorts and underpants.   Positioning himself between 
         my legs, he looked down into my face.    Raking my whole 
         body  with  his  eyes, he said "So  beautiful!   So,  so 
         beautiful!" Then, putting his penis in my hole, he moved 
         forward.     My cunt was so wet, one push, and  it  sank 
         into me all the way. 


           My  body  gave a big lurch.   "Oh,  Daddy!"  I  cried. 
         Daddy's  penis  was a good bit bigger than  Mark's,  and  
         giving  me  the  most  voluptuous  sensations  I'd  ever 
         experienced, stretching my vaginal walls, it filled me. 


           Looking up into his, I opened my eyes and realizing he 
         thought I'd cried out and jumped because he was  hurting 
         me,  said "That feels so good!".   Daddy smiled down  on 
         me  and  then began pushing himself in and  out.  Moving 
         slowly at first, pulling his cock out until only its tip 
         was  in my hole and then sliding it all the way into  me 
         until his pubic bone was pressed against my clitoris,  I 
         almost `swooned' from the sensations palpitating between 
         my legs. 


           But,  Daddy had `done without' for almost  two  weeks, 
         and  I'd  started  down  the road  to  orgasm  with  the 
         vibrator  before being interrupted, so it was  not  long 
         before  he was moving faster and harder, and   with   my 
         thighs  spread as far apart as they would go so that  he 
         could get it all into me, I was bucking upwards with  my 
         bottom to meet his thrusts. 


           Raising   himself  on  his  hands  and  watching   his 
         pistoning  cock,  Daddy cried, "Beth! Beth!   Come  with 
         me,  Darling. Come with Daddy!", and I slid  right  over 
         the  cliff  with him.   Falling forward,  making  short, 
         sharp thrusts with his penis, he ground himself into me, 
         and  I threw my arms around his shoulders and locked  my 
         ankles  around his buttocks and strained myself to  him. 
         Spurt  after spurt, when I felt his come  shooting  into 
         me,  I  moaned aloud, "Oh! Daddy! I can feel it!  I  can 
         feel it!" 


           For  what  seemed like a long time, but  was  actually 
         only  several seconds, we writhed in each  other's  arms 
         and  then, exhaling loudly, our bodies went limp.  Half-
         supporting  his  body  on his  elbows  and  leaving  his 
         shrinking penis embedded in me, Daddy rested atop of  me 
         as I reached up and kissed him on the cheek. 


           Giving  a nervous laugh, he rolled over onto  the  bed 
         beside  me.   I squirmed against him and put my head  on 
         his shoulder, my arm across his chest so he wouldn't get 
         up and leave. `This can't be the only time!' I  thought. 
         `It  just can't be!' "Daddy," I whispered, "while  Mom's 
         gone, can we do that some more?" 


           His head jerking around, Daddy stared at me for a long 
         time. Then he looked away. "Do you want to?" he asked. I 
         nodded my head several times. "God!" he said. "You're my 
         daughter.  And this is incest!" I nodded my head  again. 
         "It  doesn't bother you?" he asked, and not  looking  at 
         him,  I shook my head. "No," I said, holding my  breath. 
         "Does it bother you?" 


           Daddy took a deep breath. "God knows it ought to,"  he 
         said, finally. He put his hand under my chin and  turned 
         my  face  to his. "No father should do that to  his  own 
         daughter." 


           "Not if she doesn't want him to," I agreed, quickly. 


           "And  you  want  me to?" he asked. "Or  are  you  just 
         trying  to  keep me away from the  red-head  while  your 
         Mom's gone?" he added, half-jokingly. 


           Squeezing him to me, I cried, "I want you to!" 


           A  kind of ironic-sounding laugh escaped  his  throat. 
         "Well,"  he said, "your mother's always accusing  me  of 
         spoiling  you  by giving you everything  you  want!"  He 
         looked at me out of the corner of his eyes. "But,  we'll 
         see," he said. 


           Not much liking the sound of that, I continued to rake 
         my  fingernails  across his chest. I'd heard  men  liked 
         doing  it  to young girls, so I asked Daddy  if  it  was 
         true.  He nodded his head. I asked why, and he  said  he 
         supposed they were just trying to `recapture their  lost 
         youth.' Looking at his profile beside me on the  pillow, 
         I  asked,  hopefully,  "Do you feel  like  you  need  to 
         recapture your lost youth?" 


           Daddy  laughed and raised himself on one  elbow.  "I'm 
         not all that old," he said.  But then, running his  eyes 
         over  my nude body and with a thoughtful  expression  on 
         his  face, he went on, "Considering what I've just  done 
         to  you, though, I guess I am a dirty old  man."     His 
         penis was becoming hard again against my thigh. 


           "Well, if you're an example," I said.   Reaching down, 
         I  took hold of it, squeezing it and moving the skin  up 
         and  down,  "I  can see why girls  say  what  they  do!" 
         Straddling him before he could protest, I moved my  body 
         over his, (Mark and I had done it that way a few  times) 
         and put the head of his penis at my opening. Both of  us 
         went, "M-m-m!" as I sank down on it until it was all the 
         way in.    


           And that was the end of the "we'll see" business! 


           Until  Mom returned home two months later, we  did  it 
         nearly every night.  When Daddy got home from his office 
         every evening, I made sure I was dressed - or  undressed 
         -  in a way enticing to him. The night after  our  first 
         `encounter', I greeted him nude, but he smiled at me and 
         shook his head. "Tantalize, Beth," he said.  "Tantalize! 
         That's  what  turns  men  on.  Don't  display  all  your 
         `wares.'"  And  that's  a  good  principle  I'm  glad  I 
         learned!  After  that, I'd either have on  my  shortest, 
         tightest  skirt to emphasize my round bottom  and  allow 
         him a peek up my legs - but I did wear panties - or  I'd 
         wear  a  blouse unbuttoned almost to my navel -  and  no 
         brassiere  - so he could catch a glimpse of my  breasts.   
         Or  both.  As  he's  said,  `tantalizing',  seemed  very 
         effective.  Peeking at my breasts seemed to turn him  on 
         more than anything, and instantly!   


           During those two months, Daddy taught me everything he 
         knew  about sex. I was very surprised one night when  he 
         moved down between my spread legs and looked closely  at 
         my  genitals. "Such a sweet little pussy," he said.  "It 
         looks  so  pretty and pouty that I've just got  to  kiss 
         it!"   When  he pressed his mouth to it  and  stuck  his 
         tongue into my slit, I nearly jumped off the bed, but  I 
         felt like my whole body was melting when he gave my clit 
         several quick licks.  With me pulling on his ears to get 
         his mouth mashed harder against my pussy when I came, he 
         brought me off that way. When I finally relaxed my  hold 
         on  him, rubbing his ears, he sat back and  grinning  at 
         me, asked me if it had felt good.   Admitting it  really 
         was a fantastic feeling, I blushed crimson and he  said, 
         "I thought you must like it, since you nearly pulled  my 
         ears off!" 


           Reaching  out and pressing my hands to  his  reddening 
         ears, I cried, "Oh, I'm sorry, Daddy!" 


           His  face  with  a kind of funny look on  it  which  I 
         couldn't read, Dad smiled at me, and. "It feels good  to 
         a man, too," he said, looking deep into my eyes. 


           How  could  it? I wondered.   "Doing that to  a  woman 
         feels good to a man?" I asked, surprised. 


           He chuckled and shook his head. "No.  Yes.  I mean,  I 
         do enjoy doing that, because I know how good it feels to 
         get sucked off." 


           My  eyes opened wide in understanding. "Oh!"  I  said. 
         "You  mean, you want me to  suck your penis?" I'd  never 
         thought about doing that. Heck! I'd never thought  about 
         anybody  doing  that to me! And not knowing if  I  could 
         take his penis in my mouth or not, I gulped. 


           "It  feels just as good to a man to get sucked  as  it 
         does to a woman," Dad said. He told me he and Mother had 
         sucked  each  other off sometimes, especially  when  she 
         reached  the point in her pregnancy when  they  couldn't 
         have  sex,  but  after I was born, she'd  told  him  she 
         didn't  want  him to do it to her  anymore  because  she 
         didn't want to do it to him. 


           That decided me! I'd suck him off if I choked to death 
         in  the process! Sitting up in the bed, I made room  for 
         him to lie down, and said, "Well, if it feels as good to 
         you  as  it did to me, then I'll be happy to  do  it  to 
         you!" 


           Wasting no time, Daddy lay back where I'd been. Moving 
         down,  straddling  his legs and taking  his  fully-erect 
         cock in my hand, I lowered my mouth to him.   Sucking it 
         in,  it touched the back of my throat and made  me  gag. 
         His  hand coming to rest on my shoulder as I  jerked  my 
         head back, Daddy told me to just take as much of it into 
         my mouth as I could without gagging.  As I sucked him in 
         again,  he guided my head gently with his hands,  moving 
         it up and down on him, telling me to lick the under-side 
         with  my  tongue while I was doing it.   Doing  what  he 
         said,  stroking  the  bottom part of his  cock  with  my 
         tongue, it wasn't long before he started breathing  hard 
         and  his  hips  gave what seemed  to  be  uncontrollable 
         little jerks upwards. "Beth! Beth!" he cried,  suddenly, 
         "I'm going to come!" 


           Clutching at the bed-sheet, Daddy took his hands  away 
         from  my head and I know now he expected me to  take  my 
         mouth  away,  but sucking all the harder and  making  my 
         tongue stroke him faster and faster, my mouth was filled 
         with  his come. All the stuff his cock was spewing  into 
         my  mouth, he was groaning and writhing in such  obvious 
         bliss  it  never crossed my mind to pull  away  and  not 
         finish what I'd started, so I swallowed.  


           Sucking  the last drop from him, when he finally  fell 
         back against the pillow, I scrambled up and put my  head 
         on  his  shoulder.  Trying to get the taste  out  of  my 
         mouth,  I  was swallowing repeatedly as  Dad  hugged  me 
         tightly  to  him.  "Thank you, my  precious,"  he  said, 
         "Thank you very much!" 


           Well, from his bodily contortions, I could tell what I 
         was  doing to him surely did feel as good to him  as  it 
         had  felt when he did the same thing to me, so I  didn't 
         begrudge him a thing! And I told him as much. 


           Dad asked me if it tasted bad, and I admitted it  did, 
         but not so bad I wouldn't do it to him again! He told me 
         if  I could learn to take it deeper into my mouth,  when 
         it came, the stuff would be so far back it wouldn't even 
         get on my tastebuds. Snuggling close against him, I said 
         next time, I'd try that. It took a while, but finally, I 
         did  get to where I could get his entire length into  my 
         mouth  without gagging and, sure enough, if I mashed  my 
         lips  into  the hair around his cock when he  came,  the 
         come went directly down my throat and I hardly tasted it 
         at all. 


           And then Mom came home. Feeling she had to get back to 
         help  me get ready for school, she had finally  put  her 
         parents in a nursing home.   Just because she was  home, 
         I had no intention whatever of totally giving Daddy  up, 
         but  after she'd been away so long, figuring she'd  have 
         some  `catching up' to do in the sex department, I  left 
         Daddy  to  her for the first week or so  she  was  home.   
         Since  I'd put the vibrator back where I'd found  it,  I 
         just made do with my fingers. 


           But even when Mom left us alone with each other for  a 
         few minutes, during that first week or so, no matter how 
         I  hinted,  Daddy never once acted like he and I  had  a 
         delicious secret.   It seemed like a lifetime to me! 


           When I couldn't get any kind of reaction from Dad,  it 
         occurred to me Mom might very well `take him away'  from 
         me. I didn't mind if she got her share of sex from  him, 
         but I wanted a share, too!    But then I realized, if my 
         `young  and tender body' didn't get me my share  of  sex 
         with him, my mouth would! Deciding I'd better find  some 
         way  to  remind him of how it felt for his penis  to  be 
         down my throat, the very next morning, I did just  that. 
         We were all three having breakfast and I asked Mom if  I 
         could  have some banana on my cereal.   Handing me  one, 
         she  started messing around at the kitchen  counter  and 
         while  her  back  was turned,  peeling  the  banana  and 
         looking straight into my Dad's eyes, I stuck it all  the 
         way down my throat.   Quickly looking over his  shoulder 
         to see if Mom had seen what I'd done, Dad's face  turned 
         beet  red  as his eyes got about as big  around  as  his 
         cereal bowl. 


           Leaving Mom at the office, that very afternoon,  Daddy 
         came  to  the house. I was home from school and  in  the 
         pool,  and  he  walked up to  its  edge,   standing  and 
         staring  down  at me with his hands on his  hips.  "Just 
         thought I'd drop by and see if you were okay," he said. 


           Looking up at him, I held onto the edge of the pool at 
         his  feet, ready to bring an end to my solitary form  of 
         sex.   "I'm lonesome," I said. Then I lowered my  voice. 
         "How's my sexy old Dad? Has he missed his little girl?" 


           Dad  squatted down and tweaked my nose. "What  do  you 
         mean,  `old'?" he said.  Over my shoulders,  looking  to 
         make sure no-one was looking over the fence between  the 
         back  yards on either side of us, I put my hand  in  his 
         crotch  and through his pants, closed my fingers  around 
         his  penis and balls. Feeling him getting hard, I  said, 
         "Well-l,  I guess you're not that old!" I  squeezed  and 
         said,  "Hm-m!  I'll  bet that's  good  enough  to  eat!" 
         Wanting  to reinforce the not very subtle hint with  the 
         banana  that  morning, if he hadn't come  home  for  the 
         reason  I  hoped he had, I was pretty  sure  that  would 
         change  his  mind! To my delight, lifting  me  from  the 
         pool,  he caught me under my arms, and we almost ran  up 
         the stairs to my room. 


           As we hurriedly undressed, he told me we'd have to  be 
         very careful; because he'd be tired and make Mom suspect 
         something, he couldn't do it to me so much. 


           "I'll be happy with `left-overs'," I said, and wanting 
         to  be sure he was reminded of what he'd been  `missing' 
         from his `little girl', pushed him onto his back on  the 
         bed,  sucking  his penis into my mouth,   I  sucked  him 
         until  I  thought he might be getting  pretty  close  to 
         coming, and then rolling over onto my back, I pulled him 
         on top of me and guided him into me. 


           And that's the way it went until I graduated from high 
         school  and  left  for college. Dad  and  I  took  every 
         opportunity to climb in bed together. From what he said, 
         I gathered he was fucking Mom two or three times a  week 
         and  me almost that often. Mostly, it happened when  Dad 
         would make a point of dropping by the house to `check on 
         me'  after school or when he and Mom were  taking  turns 
         `sitting'  an  Open House on the week ends. Only  a  few 
         times  during those two years - when Mom was  sick  with 
         the `flu' or something and didn't want to expose him  to 
         it by sleeping with him - did he come to my bed, instead 
         of  going to the guest room, fucking me with  her  lying 
         just down the hall. Dropping off to sleep one night,  it 
         was  kind of dangerous, but luckily before Mom  did,  he 
         woke up the next morning  and, messing up the guest room 
         bed  so  it'd look like he'd slept in  it,  she's  never 
         suspected anything about Daddy and me. 


           But  all that sex didn't seem to have any very  tiring 
         effect  on  him!  Well, maybe  a  little.  One  Saturday 
         afternoon  he  left Mom sitting an Open House  and  came 
         home.  He'd done her the night before and  wasn't  quite 
         `up to par,' so he showed me how to massage his prostate 
         gland  with my finger. That brought him to a full  stand 
         in a hurry! (We discovered later that  even if I  didn't 
         have  a prostate up there, the same `digital  intrusion' 
         of my anus increased my own pleasure quite a bit). 


           So   I could go on living at home and Dad and I  could 
         keep   up  our  `sextracurricular'   activities,   after 
         graduating  from high school, I thought I might go to  a 
         local  Junior  College,   but I entered  a  short  story 
         writing contest and won a scholarship to a college quite 
         a distance away. 


           Dad  and  I  still  screw  on  holidays  and  in   the 
         summertime when I'm home on vacation, and he's come  `on 
         business' for a few days to the college town where I  am 
         a  couple  of times each year. When he does, we  have  a 
         regular orgy! 


           So, there you have it. I guess I'll keep doing it with 
         Dad  anytime I get the chance until I get  married.  Who 
         knows?  Maybe even after, too! There's a guy  I've  been 
         dating for a while and am having fairly serious thoughts 
         about,  and I know he's thinking along the  same  lines, 
         too.  I  haven't  let him (or  anybody  else)  fuck  me, 
         because from the standpoint of disease, I know when  you 
         do it with someone, it's like doing it with everyone  he 
         ever did it with, and I don't want myself - or Dad -  to 
         catch  anything.  I told Alan - that's his  name  -  I'd 
         promised my father I would save myself for marriage, and 
         he's  respected  that. Just in case we do  get  married, 
         though, I told him there wouldn't be any `bloody sheets' 
         on  my wedding night, since I'd ruptured my  hymen  when 
         I'd slipped in our pool and done a violent split on  the 
         diving board. (Well, come on! What's a girl to do? Okay, 
         so I didn't have to be quite so ironic about it, but  it 
         was a `slip' in the pool that got Dad and me started!) 


           And oh, by the way, Dad gave me my own vibrator when I 
         went away to college! 


           Yours truly, 


           Elizabeth 



           +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+





              Nothing is better than Sex.
              Masturbation is better than nothing.
              Therefore, Masturbation in better than Sex.

              Anon













                            INCREASE IN SIZE!


                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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         restricted in any way.


           Minded  to  increase the size  of  "ELECTRA  MAGAZINE"  
         magazine and broaden its range of stories and  articles, 
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         to  divide  each  edition of  "ELECTRA  MAGAZINE"   into 
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         lead to subscriber's impatience, which is not  something 
         we seek!


           For  further  security,  from  next  month,   "ELECTRA 
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         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+



         Blessed are the meek for they shall inhibit the earth. -
            - Ralph Nader




         A Puritan is someone who is deathly afraid that someone, 
         somewhere, is having fun.




         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+
       


         Something  old, something new, definitely borrowed,  and 
         probably blue.


                        DID YOU HEAR THIS ONE?


                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           "Y'all  have any American razor blades in  here?"  the 
         Texan asked the London pharmacist. "All I see are  these 
         damn Wilkinsons."


           "Sir,"  the Englishman patiently  replied,  "Wilkinson 
         has   been   producing   the   finest   steel   surgical 
         instruments, weapons, and razors since before Waterloo."


           "I don't give a hoot if they passed 'em out on  Noah's 
         ark if they ain't no good."


           "I can assure you they are very good, sir," the peeved 
         druggist said. "Why, just last year, my wife happened to 
         swallow  a Wilkinson.  It gave her a  tonsillectomy,  an 
         appendectomy, a hysterectomy, circumcised the  gardener, 
         emasculated  the  chauffeur,  cut two  of  the  butler's 
         fingers off at the knuckle - and I still got ten  shaves 
         out of it."


                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           It was a glorious, moonlit night, and Fred was walking 
         his new girlfriend home. Suddenly, she slipped and broke 
         the heel off her shoe.

         "What will I do", she said, "I can't walk like this."

         "Don't worry," said Fred. "Take off your other shoe  and 
         I will piggy-back you the rest of the way."

           They  had  only piggy-backed for two  blocks  when  an 
         Alsatian came out and threw a bucket of water over them.


                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           The  lively  octogenarian hit it off so  well  with  a 
         woman he met at a local tavern that she agreed to return 
         to his apartment for some lovemaking.

           Five days later, the old man noticed a drip at the tip 
         of his penis and made an appointment with a doctor.

           "Have you had sex recently?" the physician asked.

           "Sure have," the old man cackled.  

         "Do you remember who the woman was and where she lived?"

           "Well, of course I do."

           "Then  you better get her over there right away,"  the 
         doctor advised. "You're about to cum."


                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           A  travelling  salesman is getting a  shave  from  the 
         barber, while an attractive manicurist is working on his 
         hands.

           "Say  babe,"  the  salesman says.  "how  about  having 
         dinner with me tonight?"

           "Sorry, I'm married," the manicurist says.

           "Well,  why  don't  you tell  your  husband  to  screw 
         himself?"  The salesman suggests.


           "You  tell  him," the  manicurist  says,"He's  shaving 
         you."

                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

         Three men talking.


         One says `Style is when a man comes home, finds his wife 
         in  bed  with  another man - says "Oh,  Excuse  Me"  and 
         leaves.
  

         The second says `No, style is when a man finds his  wife 
         in bed with another man - says 'Excuse Me: Please  carry 
         on" and leaves.


           The  oldest of the three pauses to take a sip  of  his 
         port,  turns to the others and says `Actually, style  is 
         when  a  man  comes home, finds his  wife  in  bed  with 
         another man, says "oh, excuse me - please carry on".


           "But that's what I just said" replies the second.


           "No",  says  the  third,       "If  they  CAN,  that's 
         Style".








                                 "FEVER" 


                              A Short Story 


                      by Parker an210088@anon.penet.fi 




            ...things  to  me.  I kicked at  the  soaked  sheets, 
         trying  to  disentangle them from my sweaty  legs.  They 
         were all twisted up, but I managed to pull my feet  free 
         and roll over onto my side. I knew that in a very  short 
         time I would be shivering so badly that I'd be forced to 
         pull the matted sheets back up again, but for now I  was 
         just too hot. Damn fever. 


           The  mild flu that had sent me to bed early on  friday 
         night  had,  over the weekend, developed into  a  raging 
         fever.  Frank  had wanted to stay home with  me,  but  I 
         wouldn't  let him miss work. Besides, it wasn't like  he 
         could do anything. I just had to sweat it out. 


           Literally. 


           The doorbell rang. 


           I  squinted at the clock radio: just past 11  am.  Who 
         could  that be? Not Sandra surely; I'd had  Frank  phone 
         her  last  night to tell her I was sick and  cancel  our 
         lunch. I toyed with the notion of just laying in bed and 
         ignoring the bell - it rang again - but decided  against 
         it. It might be important. 


           I  slid off the bed, wrapped my thick robe  around  my 
         shivering  body and walked slowly towards the door.  The 
         stairs  gave me some difficulty - I was pretty  dizzy  - 
         but  I  grabbed the handrail and took it one step  at  a 
         time.  It  took a while - the bell rang again  before  I 
         reached  the bottom - but I eventually made it.  Flushed 
         and sweating, I opened the door. 


           It  was a nurse, but dressed like no nurse I had  ever 
         seen before. She wore the white nurse's uniform, but the 
         skirt  was very short, barely covering her  thighs,  and 
         the neckline plunged down to the top of her breasts in a 
         deep vee. She was extremely attractive - funny, it  must 
         have  been the fever; I didn't normally think  of  other 
         women  as attractive - with thick, red hair,  a  slender 
         body and long... long, stocking-clad legs... 


           I  must  have  been staring at  her  legs  where  they 
         disappeared  under the skirt - once again, it must  have 
         been the fever - 'cause she cleared her throat to get my 
         attention. If it hadn't been for the fever, I'm sure  my 
         face would have burned with embarrassment. 


           She spoke. "Mrs Blair?" 


           I nodded, croaking out a "yes". 


           "I'm  nurse Welles, from Homecare Inc."  She  adjusted 
         her little hat. "I've been hired to look in on you." 


           That  made  sense. I assumed that Frank,  or  possibly 
         Sandra,   had  decided  that  I  needed   some   medical 
         attention. Very thoughtful, really. "Come in." 


           I took a step back from the door, but stumbled. I  was 
         still  rather dizzy and weak. The nurse  rushed  forward 
         and grabbed my shoulder, steadying me. 


           "Here,"  she said. "You belong on your back." She  was 
         right; a fresh wave of dizziness washed over me. She put 
         her  hand around my shoulders and helped me back up  the 
         steps.  At  one point, I stumbled, and she  dropped  her 
         hand to my rear end to steady me. She kept it there  for 
         the  rest  of  the  journey,  using  it  to  control  my 
         progress.  I  was  acutely  aware  of  it...  squeezing, 
         rubbing... 


           Finally we reached the bedroom and she steered me into 
         the  bed. "Now you just lie there, honey," she told  me, 
         pulling off my robe, "and let nurse Welles take care  of 
         you." 


           Shivering,  I fell back onto the mattress.  The  nurse 
         fixed   the  pillow  behind  my  head  and  then   began 
         straightening  out  the  tangled sheets at  my  feet.  I 
         watched  for a bit. In my feverish state, her  movements 
         seemed  almost hypnotic. Her long, slender  arms  moving 
         over  my  body; the way her red hair  tumbled  out  from 
         beneath the white cap bent over... I was quite unable to 
         take  my  eyes off her. Eventually, however,  the  fever 
         took  hold and I began to drift away. I was so tired.  I 
         think I fell into a bit of a daze. 


           It was like I was dreaming. I felt my nightie - a long 
         tee-shirt, really - being pulled up until it was bunched 
         under  my  chin. Then a voice: "Just  relax...  relax... 
         leave everything to nurse Welles... she'll take care  of 
         you..." 


           I  relaxed. Then I felt a pair of soft hands  -  *her* 
         hands - running along the top of my chest and then  down 
         to  my breasts. My breasts! I wanted to sit up and  push 
         those  hands  away - I'd *never* been touched  there  by 
         another  woman - but it felt so good. Those  hands  slid 
         over  my  breasts, rubbing... massaging...  tweaking  my 
         nipples... 


           I couldn't help but let out a quiet moan as the  hands 
         left my breasts and then moved slowly across my  stomach 
         and down to my pussy. "Just relax..." I felt her  finger 
         on  the top of my pussy, just touching, teasing me...  I 
         moaned  and thrust my hips up to meet that  finger,  but 
         every  time  I did so, it moved away, not  quite  losing 
         contact,   but  just  enough  so  the  pressure   didn't 
         increase. 


           "Please..."  Was  that my voice begging? I  must  have 
         been  delirious.  But  it  felt so  good.  After  a  few 
         moments,  I felt her hands parting my thighs. I  helped, 
         opening  my legs as far as they could go  and  thrusting 
         upwards with my crotch. I was rewarded with an extra bit 
         of pressure, and let out a moan. 


           Then  I felt something cool and wettish, sliding  down 
         between  my  legs  and up against  my  rear  end.  "Just 
         relax..."  It  pushed  up against my anus.  I  tried  to 
         clench  my  ass muscles to stop it  from  entering,  but 
         every  time  I tightened up, the finger  left  my  clit. 
         Whimpering  in frustration, I gave in and let  her  push 
         the  object  into  me. Further and  further...  and  the 
         deeper it went, the more pressure was brought to bear on 
         my clit. 


           I'd  never  had anything up there before, so  it  felt 
         kind  of  strange.  Hurt  a bit,  but  the  feelings  of 
         pleasure  caused by the hand on my pussy more than  made 
         up  for  any  discomfort.  By  now  I  was  moaning  and 
         whimpering,  desperate to come. The feelings  built  and 
         built until I was thrashing about on the bed, humping my 
         crotch  into the air as far as I could, trying,  needing 
         to... 


           Ahhh...  I  sat up, drenched with  sweat,  pulling  my 
         soaked   hand  away  from  my  crotch.   I'd   evidently 
         masturbated  myself to orgasm while I was sleeping.  The 
         fever  did strange things to me. I kicked at the  soaked 
         sheets, trying to disentangle them from my sweaty  legs. 
         They were all twisted up, but I managed to pull my  feet 
         free  and roll over onto my side. I knew that in a  very 
         short  time  I would be shivering so badly that  I'd  be 
         forced to pull the matted sheets back up again, but  for 
         now I was just too hot. 


           Damn fever. 


           The  mild flu that had sent me to bed early on  friday 
         night  had,  over the weekend, developed into  a  raging 
         fever.  Frank  had wanted to stay home with  me,  but  I 
         wouldn't  let him miss work. Besides, it wasn't like  he 
         could do anything. I just had to sweat it out. 


           Literally. 


           The doorbell rang... 


         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+








           A  prosperous stockbroker and his wife had  everything 
         money  could buy, until the economy caught up  with  the 
         him  and  he  wasn't  able  to  keep  up  his  expensive 
         life-style.   Knowing  that he was taking a  beating  at 
         work  and in the market he came home with a heavy  heart 
         and  said to his wife, "You better learn to cook  so  we 
         can fire the cook."   


           His  wife thought it over for a few minutes and  said, 
         "Okay, but you better learn to screw so we can fire  the 
         gardener".











                           FROM VICCY'S POST-BAG

                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

         A subscriber from the US writes:


         `For  10 years now, I've had a sexual-relationship  with 
         my  daughter.   She's 22 and about to get  married,  but 
         has  told  me that she still wants the  relationship  to 
         continue.   this is causing me all sorts of  conscience-
         problems: if I do, I shall fell guilty, and if I  don't, 
         she'll  be unhappy and I'll feel guilty because  of  it.   
         Naturally,  I'd  like things to continue as  they  were; 
         both she and I were very happy.   Any ideas?'   


         Viccy comments:   Only if someone has been involved with 
         a member of their family can understand what the problem 
         is.


         From  our own experience, we would say to let things  go 
         on  as  they are.  Your daughter is right; if  the  bond 
         between  her  and her new husband is strong  enough,  it 
         would naturally overcome desire for further contact with 
         you,  and  if it isn't and she feels  deprived  or  even 
         rejected by you, it could have all sorts of problems  in 
         the  future.    Providing the loving  husband  does  his 
         homework, he will naturally ease you out of the picture, 
         but  whatever it is she has going for you, he will  have 
         his work cut out to succeed.


         Particularly within the family, but in any case, in  all 
         loving relationships, once that loving bond is in place, 
         the only thing that can affect it is be being superseded 
         by  something even stronger.   Assuming it is a  tender, 
         loving relationship, with you age and experience,  there 
         isn't  much that could replace it, and if  the  `source' 
         dries-up,   feeling  something  is  missing   from   her 
         emotional make-up, your daughter might well find herself 
         a very unhappy young lady.


         So  when  she comes looking, say `yes'  and  let  things 
         finds their own level.


         Love from


         Viccy


         (Viccy, the story of whose family life-style is  related 
         in    `Tomorrow's    Family?'   can   be    mailed    at 
         `viccy@bartra.demon.co.uk'.    Happy  to assist  in  any 
         problem or enquiry arising from `family-loving',  Viccy, 
         her family and the Publishers cannot be held responsible 
         for any event arising from their advice or opinion).      


         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+



                          "TOMORROW'S FAMILY?"


                           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

         At  over  150,000 words, in 26 sections spread  over  14 
         chapters,   our  best-selling  true  book,   "Tomorrow's 
         Family?"  is a full-length work and from our  post-logs, 
         those  sections which have been hitherto been  available 
         through our file-server appear to have already been read 
         by  the majority of our subscribers.   In order to  keep 
         faith with our Readership, rather than subject them to a 
         repetition  of the first already-published 9  parts,  we 
         commence our promised serialisation from part 10.


         However, we have made a special file containing parts  1 
         t0 9, and to obtain it, Subscribers to "ELECTRA MAGAZINE" 
         should  email `TFONE@bartra.demon.co.uk' when  the  file 
         (some 350 kb) will be dispatched to them.


         One section every three days, the complete book is  also 
         about to reposted to alt.sex.stories, alt.sex.incest and 
         alt.sex.stories.incest., the final section appearing  in 
         some 70 days time. 


                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


                             Chapter Seven
          

                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~


           The  following  morning, the drive  over  to  Martin's 
         house   was  spent  repeatedly  shaking  my  head   with 
         disbelief as more and more stereo-typed images of  those 
         involved in incest were picked up and examined  closely. 
         And then thrown out! 


           With  certain exceptions, patients being  treated  for 
         after-effects of incestuous encounters fell roughly into 
         three  groups; psychosomatic, traumatic and  depressive. 
         That  there were many more with whom we never came  into 
         contact was obvious, those lurking in an unhappy pit  of 
         fear  and secrecy, awaiting the confidence and faith  to 
         come out into the open. Society being unhappy to  accept 
         their  existence,  that some people might  be  perfectly 
         happy  with their situation and have something to  teach 
         the  rest  of  us  was  novel,  fatuous,   unbelievable, 
         characters from fantasy-stories in lascivious magazines! 
         Yet  here was an ecstatically happy Viccy,  even  moreso 
         now she shared her life more fully with her husband, for 
         fifteen years, the only item overshadowing her happiness 
         being his closed mind! 


           To  me,  incestuous fathers  were  compartmented  into 
         three types: the `one-time encounter', the poor blighter 
         who,  when  confronted by temptation, went  too-far  and 
         lived  a  life of remorse and  regret;  the  uneducated, 
         semi-  illiterate  lout who for  his  own  satisfaction, 
         simply forced his attentions on the females around  him, 
         and - probably the worst kind of all - the  systematical 
         corrupter who, in his incestuous relationships with very 
         young  daughters, abused trust, maintaining control  and 
         secrecy  through the rule of fear, force or  fraud,  the 
         `if  you  tell  on me, your kitten  will  die'  type  of 
         syndrome,  creating a future full of guilt and fear  for 
         young minds. 


           With no profile similarities whatsoever with  `normal' 
         incestuous  fathers, to my experience, Martin  Hall  was 
         completely unique, a real `one-off'. 


           Compared   with  the  Hall's  beliefs   and   actions, 
         dictionary   definitions   went  out  of   the   window. 
         `Corruption' - `to make rotten', `evil', `influenced  by 
         bribery', and `made worse' - made no sense, inapplicable 
         to a family who practised a life-style whose  end-result 
         finished up the envy of civilisation. 


           Judged  on  the virtues of  honest  happiness,  truth, 
         unselfishness  and love for one's fellow-man,  the  Hall 
         family came out well in front of mankind. The  remainder 
         of  we  `civilised people' lived in the Dark  Ages,  our 
         will  being bent by those perpetrating force,  fear  and 
         fraud  upon us which in descending order, starting  with 
         Government, at some time or another included just  about 
         everybody! 


           Snarling  to  myself, I wrenched the  car  around  two 
         startled   pedestrians  and  thought  about   the   Hall 
         children, Simon and my Viccy. 


           Apparently  very  easily  and almost  by  routine,  by 
         following their personal philosophy, Ruth and Martin had 
         produced  a  pair of  happy-hearted,  morally-altruistic 
         children.  There could be but a few parents  hopeful  of 
         engendering  a  happy family environment who  would  not 
         give  their  eye-teeth  to rear  children  with  similar 
         virtues,  attitudes  and outlooks as Viccy.  And  Simon, 
         whose  children - after my bone-shaking,  heart-stopping 
         visit  with  Sally  - I acknowledged  to  be  a  virtual 
         replica of Martin's. 


            Its horn blaring, I squeezed past a petrol-tanker, as 
         albeit sardonically, I grinned to myself. Remove  sexual 
         involvement  and  the  Hall system, a  role-model  of  a 
         universally-acceptable   and  easily-attainable   `happy 
         family',  became  a  target every  adult  would  desire, 
         anybody  could  achieve, and in good  conscience,  would 
         strive  to accomplish. In every meaning of the word,  if 
         their  `singular'  path to the virtues  and  results  of 
         their  culture ever became public knowledge, by the  end 
         of  the  century,  the country stood a  good  chance  of 
         becoming a nation of happy incestors! 


           Drumming my fingers on the steering-wheel, I glared at 
         a  looming  bus. Never had I been confronted  with  such 
         mental turmoil! As a way of life, Martin Hall's was  not 
         only peculiarly simple in conception, its inception  was 
         positively  advantageous  to  everyone  concerned,   and 
         within it, contained seeds which jeopardised every tenet 
         of   Government,   law   and   ecclesiastical    ruling, 
         threatening   to   overturn  centuries  of   habit   and 
         tradition!  Because of the secrecy imposed on the  topic 
         by  the inherent attitudes of those three estates -  and 
         therefore  'civilisation'  - the  diabolical  part  they 
         faced was any spread of incest would go undetected until 
         the   moment  it  brought  about  their  downfall!   For 
         effectiveness in undermining 'civilisation',  incestuous 
         love had revolution and terrorism beat by a mile! 


           Serves them right, I thought! If `civilisation' was so 
         smart,  the  circumstances creating  the  moral  dilemma 
         which  still faced me could not have arisen. And if  the 
         problems  faced  me, think of the  other  thousands  out 
         there,   needlessly  suffering  as  a  result  of   this 
         conspiracy! 


           Sensing the breeding of primary paranoia symptoms  and 
         seeking  something closer to home, I abandoned  problems 
         confronting the world and immediately felt vexed. Making 
         an  agreement  in principle with Viccy  was  one  thing, 
         putting it into practice was something else again.  Even 
         though  the  direction  of my thinking  had  swung  one-
         hundred-and-eighty  degrees - from 'definitely  not'  to 
         'count  me  in' - the  difficulties,  possibilities  and 
         probabilities of happily bringing everything about still 
         remained. Whatever happened, whether the happy  benefits 
         for  the children would come about, or even whether  the 
         children  would  be happy to accept ensuing  results  as 
         'happy', was something about which we'd never be  really 
         sure  All  because, thirty years ago,  Hall  Senior  had 
         spent  too  much  time thinking  about  sex  instead  of 
         dealing  with  someone's divorce! Why couldn't  he  have 
         stayed with something simple? 


           Damn  Martin Hall! Two days ago, I'd  been  reasonably 
         happy,  reasonably comfortable and reasonably secure  in 
         all  areas of my life, but now, because of him,  I  kept 
         returning to the one constant, paramount problem;  being 
         on  the  very  sharp horns of a  dilemma  of  monumental 
         proportions which would never really be resolved. 


           With  my  never  ever dreaming the  backbone  of  such 
         wisdom  could  be broken, in line with our  own  faiths, 
         Viccy  and  I had raised our children  to  believe  they 
         could  reach the Moon, back-pack around  Europe,  become 
         Prime- Minister, make fortunes, do anything with  effort 
         and  perseverance. They understood life was for  living; 
         everything  was  there to be done  or  experienced  and, 
         providing it was legal and other people were happy  with 
         what  they did, everything SHOULD be done,  particularly 
         before  knocking  those who'd already tried it.  It  was 
         only  through living the experience would they  know  if 
         the exercise was worth it. 


           But the whole foundation and concept fell apart in the 
         face  of  incest! Their loved-ones might be  happy,  but 
         would anyone else? And therefore, if faced with dilemma, 
         whose lead should they follow? 


           `If  in  doubt, ask Mum or Dad!' Good  advice  at  any 
         time, but in this case, the snag arose that Mother would 
         be all for guiding them up a path which dear old Dad was 
         not  at all sure would be the right thing for  them.  Or 
         any of us! 


           But  for  why?  Apart  from  a  blind  acceptance   of 
         `society's'  attitudes - in which, on this topic, I  was 
         rapidly  losing faith - what was there  against  incest? 
         Just  who,  and  why, and  when,  had  someone  declared 
         `taboo;  off-limits; no-can-do?' Martin Hall  must  have 
         faced  the  same dilemma; why then had  he  gone  ahead, 
         against  all convention and upbringing? Many  things  he 
         might  be,  but `dirty old man', he most  certainly  was 
         not! 


           Which  was why I was on my way to see him. Losing  the 
         race  to  traffic-lights to a large  furniture-lorry,  I 
         slithered  to  a  stop, again  cursing  Pere  Hall!  Why 
         couldn't he just have become a Judge, dispensed a little 
         justice and then quietly retired, harming no-one? 


           Even as I criticised him, I realised the phoney  basis 
         of my complaint! Martin had succeeded where billions had 
         tried and failed, producing a flawless, happy, carefree, 
         spiritual  code  of ethics and values; it  was  only  in 
         method  of achievement that reproach could be  levelled. 
         Thirty-six  hours ago - God!, was it really as  short  a 
         period  as that? - I'd been at odds with  his  daughter, 
         querying   and  criticising  her  morals,  beliefs   and 
         conduct.  Now,  I was at odds with the world  at  large, 
         putting  their  values under the  microscope.  The  part 
         causing  the  difficulty was that  society's  dictums  - 
         those to which I had unquestioningly conducted a life  - 
         were being found hollow and wanting! 


           Caught  in  the  immense  implications  of  just  what 
         `Hallism'  could  do for - and did to -  people,  for  a 
         fraction  of  a second, as I caused a  cyclist  to  have 
         heart-failure  as  I  sped past,  I  considered  whether 
         Martin  Hall was a Soviet agent, an alien  from  another 
         universe or merely the fulfilment of the Second Coming! 


           So  often found lacking amongst my `patients',  at  an 
         early age, the Hall children had discovered interest  in 
         the  world around them which no television, computer  or 
         video-film could ever develop to the same integrity.  To 
         the interest, they were encouraged to add initiative and 
         motivation  in planning and doing things - living  life! 
         In  my  wife, it had manifested itself  through  growing 
         responsibility  to, and awareness of, the  happiness  of 
         those around her. 


           Our children out with friends, or tucked-up in bed for 
         the  night,  the  previous  evening,  in  my  quest   to 
         understand  more,  and  in her usual  frank  and  candid 
         manner,  Viccy  related the circumstances of  the  first 
         time, of her own resourcefulness, she had put everything 
         together. 


           "`I  was  busting to do my best for Daddy.  From  that 
         Sunday morning, I frequently did to Daddy what I'd  seen 
         Mummy  do.  And  I loved it! After a  few  months,  with 
         plenty  of practice, my little mouth  could  accommodate 
         him easily and did, at every conceivable opportunity. At 
         that  time,  sex didn't enter into it, it was  a  little 
         girl loving her Daddy, the same as giving him a  cuddle, 
         only moreso. 


           "`I was happy to do anything to make Daddy happy, I so 
         loved him, I wanted his love very, very much. There  was 
         no  blackmail  or wicked seduction in it; I  wanted  the 
         best for him and expected his best from him. Sucking him 
         into coming was the best way I knew; it suited us  both, 
         very much. 


           "`When  on  our own, Mummy and I freely  talked  about 
         penises and sperm as other girls are happy to talk about 
         dolls and fairies, although we talked a lot about those, 
         as well. I grew up knowing about sex, we had  absolutely 
         no  barriers  between us then or now. Mummy  handled  it 
         perfectly,  exactly as I will when it comes  to  getting 
         Claire  into our bed. And I'll know that much more  when 
         it's Kimberley's turn". 


           The  implications had added another degree or  two  of 
         heat to my genitals as Viccy spoke of our daughters  and 
         I  began to wonder if they would ever cool off again.  I 
         couldn't  help  it;  to  Viccy's  words  were  added  my 
         anticipation  and awakening awareness of  my  daughters' 
         sexuality being dependent on me. As a factual statement, 
         both my penis and I paid careful attention as Viccy told 
         us more. 


           "`Over  time,  Mummy talked of  different  techniques; 
         things  she'd done with boy-friends, things she'd  said, 
         but never suggested or recommended I make use if them. 


           "`Of tender years or not, I was never fobbed-off  with 
         `when you're a big girl' - that's only a parent  dodging 
         responsibility,  keeping  their own conscience  clear  - 
         Mummy   answered  any  question.  Because  of  it,   our 
         relationship was built on the strongest trust and  faith 
         in her. The intimacy and secrets we've shared only added 
         the  icing  to the cake. It was a mother  educating  her 
         daughter about what is important in love affairs. No-one 
         gets  upset  when a mother teaches her daughter  how  to 
         cook  for a man. Love and sex are much  more  important, 
         but everyone gets uptight about that. 


           "`Looking back, having got the taste for  spermy-love, 
         I became something of a little trollop. All day, I lived 
         for  the time I could love Daddy's penis. When  he  came 
         home in the evening, I'd be at him as he walked  through 
         the  door! Sometimes, I'd wait at the end of the  drive, 
         and  molest the poor old duck as he was putting his  car 
         away  in the garage. And if he wasn't home when my  bed-
         time  came,  he'd  have to come up to give  me  my  love 
         before  he'd had dinner. I wouldn't go to sleep  without 
         Daddy's love in me. 


           With  my arm round her, Viccy looked to see how I  was 
         taking these revelations. Another ripple of satisfaction 
         crossed  my mind, another question answered.  Viccy  was 
         rare in my experience of the gentle sex, for her love of 
         'normal'  sex was equalled by her devotion to  the  oral 
         kind;  I'd  been known to comment that if it came  to  a 
         toss-up between a gin and tonic or a mouthful of  sperm, 
         sperm would always win, hands-down. Always guaranteed to 
         draw us closer, erotic memories of her enthusiasm, drive 
         and  devotion to obtain mine crammed my heart  and  now, 
         knowing why, for the thousandth time, I wished we'd  had 
         this  conversation years before. I'd fondly pinched  her 
         nipple  and  relaxing again, her head slid  back  to  my 
         chest. 


           "`If  Mummy took me to Daddy's legal practice, I'd  be 
         trying  to get to `Viccy's love factory' as soon as  his 
         office-door  was  shut. Of course,  a  shut  office-door 
         being  no  guarantee of  privacy,  occasionally,  things 
         became  a little risky, I was such a pest.  The  offices 
         had  people  going  in and out all the  time,  so  Mummy 
         whispered in my ear that love was much more fun if Daddy 
         had  more time - if we kept loving-times to  home  only, 
         the  fun would be longer-lasting and happier; if I  gave 
         Daddy  some  peace at his office, he'd work  harder,  be 
         home earlier and able to spend more time with me. 


           "`That  her  Daddy would work hard, just to  get  home 
         quicker  for her, was a wonderful, secure thing for  any 
         little  daughter to hear. Another seed was planted  that 
         day,  that we have to work hard before we can expect  to 
         achieve something and enjoy ourselves, not at all a  bad 
         lesson for a four-year old to learn! 


           "`The upshot was, at four of five, I was old enough to 
         understand  I'd  get more love from Daddy at  home  than 
         anywhere else. That was good enough! After hearing that, 
         in  case  I  was holding him up,  when  we  visited  his 
         office, it was all I'd do to sit on his lap.  Throughout 
         the visit, I'd keep reminding him he had to get on  with 
         his work!" 


           Picturing  the  scene  of  a  little  Viccy  earnestly 
         exhorting  her father to work hard tickled my  sense  of 
         humour  and I'd chuckled. Hugging her knees,  Viccy  had 
         smiled  happily, enjoying recounting these memories,  as 
         though big secrets were being lifted from her soul. 


           "`Daddy's  offices  were all books, leather  and  oak- 
         panelling,  the  women very smart in white  blouses  and 
         black skirts, very prim and proper. When with a  client, 
         it  was  absolutely forbidden - on pain of death  -  for 
         anyone to disturb him. 


           "`As  the  Senior Partner, Daddy's office had  a  very 
         heavy, studded door. As a Christmas surprise, when I was 
         about fourteen, Mummy booked me an official  appointment 
         in  a  false name; he was so surprised as he  looked  up 
         when  I  was  shown into his office!  That  day,  I  did 
         everything he liked; one of his presents was to have  me 
         up against that door. We tried the carpet, in his chair, 
         we fucked across his desk, and that really was  fucking; 
         by  that  time, we'd got the bit between our  teeth  and 
         honest lust reigned supreme! It was absolutely glorious, 
         top-of-the-tree fucking! When he wasn't between my legs, 
         we'd be in each other's mouths. 


           "`By the time we'd finished, Daddy had a happy  memory 
         of every part of that office! And I absolutely adored  a 
         feeling  of licentiousness naughtiness within me as  his 
         staff  wished  innocent school-girl me  -  all  lavender 
         water  and  shy smiles - good-bye as I came out  of  his 
         office. They would have died had they known his daughter 
         had  just  spent  the  afternoon  almost  fucking  their 
         upright,  revered  boss  to a  standstill  and  had  the 
         sexiest glow in her tummy. I was so full of him, as  his 
         secretary  said  good-afternoon to me,  my  briefs  were 
         soaking wet where his cum was leaking from me, and -  at 
         that  moment  -  Daddy was  in  his  private  wash-room, 
         sponging   traces  of  his  daughter's  love  from   his 
         trousers. At the time, I must have been growing-up fast, 
         because  I remember wondering whether Miss  Craven  ever 
         fancied  him  the same way. On the bus  home,  my  heart 
         could  have sung for happiness. And I might tell you,  I 
         was ready for him again as he reached home! 


           "`Back  when I was four and five, those times were  so 
         happy!  As Mummy and I talked about things - love,  sex, 
         babies,  my  body, what makes men  happy,  things  Daddy 
         liked and so on - all in answer to my questions, I might 
         add;  Mummy never opened the topic herself - I  came  to 
         realise  that Daddy's wonderful penis could  love  other 
         things,  like  vaginas, souls and eggs as well.  Bit  by 
         bit, Mummy filled me in on the details. 


           "`As months went by, I gradually stopped just being  a 
         glutton  for its taste, and started thinking  much  more 
         about Daddy's happiness. Sometimes, I felt quite  guilty 
         that  there wasn't much I could do for him; it  was  the 
         natural  start  of thinking of giving  love  instead  of 
         constantly  taking  it. I still loved  sperm  very  much 
         indeed - if anything, moreso - but sometimes, after  I'd 
         been  fed, I'd lay across Daddy's midriff, studying  his 
         penis as I toyed with it. It would be small by then, but 
         just  by  being near it, it could create  such  joy  and 
         contentment in Mummy and me. 


           "`I thought his penis really beautiful. Its shape  and 
         colour,  and  the  wonderful manner  in  which  it  grew 
         astounded  me! I loved it when it was excited,  when  it 
         weeped  with  excitement; the elation in me when  I  saw 
         that little trickle was beyond words! I marvelled how it 
         could make babies, could make Mummy so happy, more  than 
         anything  else  in her life. And wanted  to  know,  when 
         giving Daddy's love to us, how it made him so happy.          


           "`Instead of straight-forward sucking, I found  myself 
         experimenting, trying Mummy's suggestions, with lots  of 
         licking and stroking, building Daddy up slowly. I learnt 
         he'd  come quicker that way, which struck little  me  as 
         very odd! 


           "`Because  of Mummy; I began to understand  his  penis 
         was the key to every man's soul, crucially important  to 
         him,  so dynamic and vital. Whether the man is aware  of 
         it  is  beside the point; if his penis is  happy,  well-
         loved,  wanted and needed, a man can cope with  anything 
         Life throws at him. 


           "`I  realised Daddy was as human as anyone  and  began 
         paying  attention to what made him more loving  at  some 
         times than others". Viccy looked at me. "If you think  I 
         am  considerate, my darling, now you know what you  have 
         to thank. That was where it all started. 


           "`Now  I understand the difference between  how  Daddy 
         was when I was very young and how things developed as  I 
         grew  older.  To  my parents'  standards,  until  things 
         blossomed,  it  was loving-fun! Daddy  was  the  patient 
         teacher and loving father, prepared to give his daughter 
         anything that made her happy, even 'spermy-love' But  to 
         violate  me  or  molest me in any  way  was  against  my 
         parents'  rules,  absolutely  sacred;  everything   must 
         develop in its own space and time, and never ever  would 
         they consider the use of anything remotely looking  like 
         force, or pushing me into something. 


           "`Apart from bath-times, Daddy never touched my body - 
         particularly my pussy - in a sexual way. I know it  felt 
         good  for  me for three or four years, but I  was  about 
         seven before I made the connection with sex. Until then, 
         I'd always thought Daddy's penis only got big when Mummy 
         or I wanted it to, when we made it happen. That it could 
         get big of its own accord had never occurred to me. 


           "`We  were just enjoying a  normal  Daddy-and-daughter 
         cuddle one day, on the sun-lounger by our swimming-pool. 
         I'd  caught  the  sun and was  fidgeting  about  when  I 
         noticed  his  penis  showing big  through  his  bathing- 
         shorts. My wriggling had caused my dress to ride up, and 
         my knickers and tummy kept peeping at him, arousing him. 
         It was such a surprise! That was another world of wonder 
         opening  up.  That I could actually do that to a  man  - 
         particularly  Daddy  - was such an amazing  concept,  so 
         fascinating,   I  put  on  a  terrific   peep-show   all 
         afternoon. He must have been very frustrated.          


           "`It  was the start of my wanting Daddy  sexually  and 
         he,  me! Whether my sex-appeal had become strong  enough 
         to arouse him, or whether his excitement set me off, who 
         knows, but from there, a healthy tinge of carnality  and 
         loving   lust  -  desire  by  any  other  name  -   grew 
         constantly, linking us. 


           "`I discussed my feelings and this extraordinary thing 
         of  Daddy's involuntarily erection with Mummy. She  said 
         it was about the right time, it was love developing  and 
         she'd  have been surprised if things hadn't  taken  this 
         turn.  She  said it was `love calling  male  and  female 
         together, to please each other'. 



           "`Afterwards, thinking about it, I prepared what  must 
         have  been my first love-plan. It was a  very  important 
         event; everything intelligent and positive - if at all I 
         am - probably stemmed from that time. 


           "`Like most mothers, Mummy always advised Simon and  I 
         about  things  to do for Daddy;  birthday  presents,  or 
         she'd help us make him a special Christmas card,  things 
         like  that. But this was the first occasion when, on  my 
         own  initiative,  I  put  my  innocent  little  mind  to 
         planning  and  organising  something  very  special   to 
         surprise Daddy on his birthday and make him happy. 


           "`When  it  came to loving-time, if we weren't  in  my 
         bedroom,  I'd usually kneel in front of him to love  his 
         penis, nothing submissive in me or chauvinistic in  him, 
         just  the most comfortable and natural way for us  both. 
         Daddy was used to that, and halfways expected it. 


           "`This birthday however, when Daddy came home, he  was 
         very  surprised  when, as he came through  the  door,  I 
         grabbed his hand, marching him into his study, where  he 
         did some of his work. 


           "`Daddy's favourite colour was light blue and - little 
         girl-like,   I   thought  this  terribly   important   - 
         especially  for him, I'd put on my very  special  light- 
         blue pants." 


           Viccy  had  smiled again, her eyes  twinkling  at  the 
         memory.  "`They  were special because  I'd  chosen  them 
         myself  and were my very first pair of big-girl  briefs; 
         until  then,  I'd worn  normal  `little-girl  knickers', 
         built for warmth and comfort rather than arousing  high- 
         speed  erections in lecherous men." She'd giggled  as  I 
         gently  paddled her bottom for spoiling the  tantalising 
         picture building in my mind's-eye. "I'm sorry, my pet. I 
         couldn't resist the temptation". 


           Dabbing a kiss on my navel, Viccy settled down  again. 
         "`I  went  to  Daddy's desk and  perched  myself  on  it. 
         Uncertain  of  what this was in aid of,  he  just  stood 
         there, wondering. 


           "`That  little  bit of desire had built up;  I'd  been 
         anticipating  my  mouthful  of  love  all  day  and  was 
         sexually-excited. Putting into it everything I'd  learnt 
         through  conversations  with Mummy, I laid back  on  the 
         desk,  sliding  my  skirt  up to  my  waist.  Daddy  was 
         speechless,  gaping, unable to take his eyes from  those 
         blue briefs. 


           "`That  was  only the first part!  Really  wanting  to 
         please Daddy, I'd thought this through, rehearsed it any 
         number  of times. Through my questions, without  knowing 
         why - though she had a good idea - Mummy had told me how 
         to use my body to excite Daddy penis with body-language. 


           "`Watching  his  face like a little hawk  to  see  his 
         reactions, I raised my bottom and slid the briefs  down, 
         leaving   them  hanging  over  one  ankle.   Daddy   was 
         speechless;  he  was being seduced by his  daughter.  It 
         thoroughly  aroused him; he was trembling, the  darling, 
         and started to get flustered. Many men are like that; if 
         they  initiate  sex, they are quite happy,  but  if  sex 
         comes   at   them,  they  don't  know  how   to   react, 
         particularly  if it's a slim under-age girl who's  doing 
         the initiating! 


           "`This  entire  event genuinely came  from  my  heart. 
         Mummy'd  said Daddy became very excited when she  opened 
         her pussy to him, showing she loved him, wanting him  to 
         love  her. It was only natural for me to follow  in  the 
         path of my peers. I wanted to be as good as Mummy and  I 
         wanted  Daddy  to love me, to start fucking me.  So  how 
         else does a girl get the message over? 


           "`Even at seven years of age, I knew what I was  doing 
         and  why! Just as I imagined grown ladies did, I  slowly 
         opened  my  legs wide - really wide - as  though  I  was 
         ready  for  fucking, spreading my little labia  with  my 
         fingers,  letting him drink me in, enjoying the  moment. 
         Holding  my  sex wide open, I said 'This is  all  yours, 
         Daddy. Show me you like it. Please love it." 


           "`The bubble burst! Almost tearful, Daddy was suddenly 
         cuddling  and kissing me and stroking my  pussy,  saying 
         how much he loved me, how happy I'd made him. 


           "`I  was  as proud and as pleased as Punch,  I'd  made 
         Daddy  very, very happy and it was all my own work!  I'd 
         thought  it  up,  planned  it and  executed  it;  I  was 
         overjoyed because it had worked and he was overjoyed. 


           "`That incident opened more sexual doors. Daddy  still 
         didn't fuck me until months afterwards, but imagine  the 
         kissing,  groping,  tickling and licking,  the  nibbling 
         there was after that evening. I was game for everything! 
         I'd  start  on him, after my favourite part of  him,  my 
         'special  friend'  as  we called  Daddy's  penis.  Other 
         times,  a bit of horseplay would find Daddy  pulling  my 
         briefs   down,   his  head  under  my   skirt,   blowing 
         raspberries on my vagina and inner thighs. 


           "`From  here, everything became very  open.  Sexy-love 
         could  start anywhere in the house. Sometimes,  we'd  be 
         alone and at other times, Mummy would be there and  we'd 
         finish on the hearth-rug, licking and hugging each other 
         each other. 


           "`Until  well into my `teens, when Daddy was home,  my 
         knickers  were  down more than they were  up!  Often  at 
         weekends,  I  never  bothered to put  them  on  at  all, 
         because  between  Daddy  and me -  and  later,  Simon  - 
         somewhere  during  the  morning, they'd  be  off  again. 
         Sometimes, our home seemed to ooze sexy-love from  every 
         window." 


           "`Because  it  had become an  `open  household',  soon 
         after  this,  Mummy became more open  in  loving  Simon, 
         little  fondles and kisses and the like in front of  me. 
         This  pleased  me;  knowing how  happy  Daddy  made  me, 
         understanding Simon made Mummy happy the same way seemed 
         fair, and whilst I loved Daddy's penis, something inside 
         me  had started becoming interested in  Simon's."  Viccy 
         exaggerated  a  wink. "It was about the same  length  as 
         Peter's."  She blew an 'air-kiss in my direction.  "See! 
         My Mummy DOES knows best" 


           Aware   that  public  reaction  to  these   astounding 
         revelation would be a sympathetic `aah, what a pity  she 
         missed out on her childhood', still looking for the flaw 
         in Viccy's argument, I'd put the question to her. 


           In  a  sudden  change of mood, Viccy had  sat  up  and 
         turned  to face me. "`I don't know about boys, but  it's 
         funny how young girls think. Happiness to most  pre-teen 
         girls would be, say, skipping-ropes, feeding horses  and 
         going  to parties. Or perhaps, dancing lessons  or  ice- 
         skating. I did those things, of course, and enjoyed them 
         all - Simon and I enjoyed everything about life - but at 
         that  period, we weren't just happy; we were  absolutely 
         joyous!  With  all the love and excitement at  home,  we 
         enjoyed  the most normal things, but moreso. If  it  was 
         storming  -  absolutely  pelting  with  rain,  when  our 
         friends  was battened down at home, hugging the  fire  - 
         Simon and I would go for a long walk, just laughing  and 
         enjoying the thunder and lightning. 


           "`Or at spring-time, Simon and I would adopt a robin's 
         nest,  bringing  scraps of food to  it,  spending  hours 
         simply  entranced with the miracle of courtship,  mating 
         and  hatching  the  chicks. I could relate  to  it  all, 
         because I'd been woo-ed and courted. 


           "`They  were all lovely times, and I  positively  know 
         they stemmed from being sure of - and full of -  Daddy's 
         love.  So  does Simon. Mummy didn't just  tell  him  she 
         loved him; she showed him in the one surest way he would 
         ever know. Loving-sex - as opposed to loving-fun -  sort 
         of  added  a third-dimension  to  everything;  something 
         tangible,  something real; whatever happened in  outside 
         life, we kids knew we could count on it. 


           "`But  of all the lovely things that could  happen  to 
         any  young girl, miles above everything else,  the  most 
         wonderful  for me were the thrills of anticipation  when 
         at  any  time, Daddy would push my dress  up,  after  my 
         pussy.  Quickly, I'd spread my legs for him,  dying  for 
         him  to eat me. I had all the child-like things,  but  I 
         had  so  much more as well" Viccy had smiled  shyly.  "I 
         suppose you think we were very depraved?" 


           "Er - well - the thought had - um - occurred to  me'", 
         I'd  lied. "But in its context, I suppose things  fitted 
         together,  links in a chain, one leading onto  another". 
         Fully explained through a young Viccy's eyes, there  was 
         a  naturalness to her sexuality  blossoming,  developing 
         its  own wants and needs. Being answered by  the  people 
         she most loved, as devoted to her as she to them, events 
         graciously   linked   into  the  next   phase   of   her 
         understanding  and practice of love. A smile had  butted 
         into my thinking. "That first time, in his study, I  bet 
         old Martin nearly had a stroke". 


           Viccy's  head had proudly lifted as she  beamed.  "`He 
         did  that!", she'd exclaimed. "`He told Mummy  his  heart 
         nearly  stopped dead; the first time in his  life,  he'd 
         almost ejaculated in his trousers, that he'd never  seen 
         anything  so  erotic.  She  spent  most  of  that  night 
         draining him, making him comfortable! Daddy's since told 
         me  he aged about ten years.' She laughed aloud. "And  I 
         never  gave  him the opportunity to recover  them!"  She 
         grinned slyly at me, a twinkle suddenly appearing in her 
         green  eyes. "`So you see, you have something in  common 
         with Martin!" Questioningly, I'd stared at her. 


           Stealthily edging her bottom away from me, Viccy leant 
         forward,  furtively  peering about her, making  sure  no 
         imaginary spectators could overhear. Putting her lips to 
         my  ear,  she  said in  a  stage-whisper,  "You're  both 
         perverted,  you  love  knickers!"  She'd  moved  smartly 
         towards the edge of the bed. "Mine!" 


           Amid giggles and squeals, I'd grabbed her as she dived 
         for the door, her legs flailing as I pinned her down  on 
         the settee. "Help! Save me! I'm in the clutches of three 
         perverts who're in love with my knickers!" In  mid-romp, 
         I  paused, exaggeratedly counting on my fingers.  Seeing 
         the mock-perplexed look on my face, Viccy laughed. "So's 
         your son!" 


           Later, I mulled over a night-cap as Viccy prepared for 
         bed. Shaken by the common sense and simple wisdom in the 
         remainder of what Viccy had told me, I was completely at 
         odds  with myself, unable to find a single -  let  along 
         good - reason for not immediately sitting our  daughters 
         down  and explaining how the best thing they could  ever 
         do for themselves was - right then, on the spot - taking 
         their pants off so I could lovingly fuck them into  real 
         security and total happiness! 


           The  same sick feeling of guilt arose, that  I  should 
         have apologise for having not done it before, for having 
         selfishly  betrayed  their trust that I'd always  do  my 
         best  for them, denying them what they were entitled  to 
         receive  and  what  I  should  be  supplying.  And   for 
         unnecessarily  abandoning their welfare to  kismet,  the 
         luck of the draw! 



                            TO BE CONTINUED





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        "ELECTRA MAGAZINE" (October)
        
         copyright: Merrill, Castle & Gray 1996 (UK Edition) 

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