"ELECTRA MAGAZINE"                         ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~                        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"          is laid-out to the following settings.           Settings: left margin         10                   right margin        65                   paragraph margin    12                   page length         66         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?                   e-mail: `mag-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'         For all our publications: `list-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'         FRIENDS: Would any of your friends or associates like to          receive  a  FREE copy of the Magazine?  Or  if  changing          your e-mail address, contact:                                `dist-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'                 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                         ANONYMOUS ADVERTISEMENTS                        ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~           An extremely SECURE and completely CONFIDENTIAL method          of making contact, copy for advertisements to be carried          in  the  next  Edition of "ELECTRA  MAGAZINE"  is  being          accepted NOW.           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ADVERTISEMENTS:           ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~            Ref:  10/01/BS:  A number of video films for sale  or             exchange - mainly M/F, MF/MFF, etc., a few M/f,  some             best., a little bond. and w/s.   Many f/lgth, exc. to             fair quality.  Others compilations of CCC. and Danish             Laboratory.   Reply: 1001.            Ref:  10/03/CA    Binaries  for  exchange  or  w.h.y.             Reply: Box 1002.            Ref:  10/01/CC   Over  1000  binaries  for  exchange.             Reply: 1003.            Ref:  10/03/CC   Ac/dc  female, 36  looking  to  make             contact  with males and other females to discuss  any             subject  under  the sun.   Have scoured the  net  for             others of similar persuasion but cannot get away from             silly trivia, religious freaks and childish comments.               All replies treated with utter confidence and  expect             same.   Reply: Box 1004.            Ref:  10/01/CA   I have a number of best.  and  preg.             binaries  for exchange and are looking to add  to  my             collection.    Will exchange on a one-for-one  basis.               Reply: Box 1005.            Ref:   10/12/CA   Lolita  Magazines   for   exchange.               Reply: Box 1006.            Ref: 10/02/CA  Write your sex true experiences for my             BBS.    Submit  one,  get  two.    Utter  discretion.               Reply: Box 1007.            Ref:  10/21   Bored  with your  video  films?    Will             exchange  one  for one.   No crap,  please!    Reply:             1008.            Ref: 10/13  Male, 45, would like to exchange accounts             of s/activities with others.   Reply: Box 1009.            Ref:  10/03  To complete thesis, university  graduate             (UK)  would  appreciate  hearing  from  anyone   ever             involved  in  incest AT ANY AGE?    Have  heard  from             100's as to WHAT happened (some even true), but  need             to  know  WHY?    Short  or  long  explanations,  all             welcomed.   Reply: Box 1010.            Ref: 10/01  Fetish enthusiast would like to hear from             others with similar interests.         +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+                       "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!                            ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~           Can  your news-server handle longer files?    Are  you          restricted in any way.           Minded  to  increase the size  of  "ELECTRA  MAGAZINE"           magazine and broaden its range of stories and  articles,          already  swollen in size from 100 kb to  this  edition's          excess  of 250 kb, M.C.G. are endeavouring to  strike  a          happy  balance between value for money, content and  the          time required to down-load it onto your computer.           Servers throughout the world vary in the size of files          they  are happy to handle, and although we are  prepared          to  divide  each  edition of  "ELECTRA  MAGAZINE"   into          segments  to facilitate readers satisfaction,  this  can          lead to subscriber's impatience, which is not  something          we seek!           For  further  security,  from  next  month,   "ELECTRA          MAGAZINE"  will be dispatched in UUCODE, but should  you          have difficulty in reception or decoding, PLEASE LET  US          KNOW.    Only too happy to be of assistance, we  are  as          good as you make us.             +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+         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         `ELECTRA MAGAZINE' is usually published between 10  days          and 2 days prior to the month to which it applies.         The Proprietors, Editor and Staff of Merrill, Castle and          Gray  accept no responsibility for matters arising  from          the   contents   of  the  Magazine,  neither   does   it          necessarily reflect their views or opinions.         Any discrepancy or omission of Author acknowledgement is          entirely circumstantial.         email addresses:          Reception Difficulty:`dist-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'         Archiving material  :`arch-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'         Mag Subscription    : `sub-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'         Publications list   :`list-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'         Comments on stories : `com-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'         Advice and problems :  `viccy@@bartra.demon.co.uk'         Free copy of Mag    :`free-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'         Advertisement copy  : `adv-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'         Purchasing books etc:`dist-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'          Other correspondence:  `ed-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk'           +~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~+        "ELECTRA MAGAZINE" (October)                 copyright: Merrill, Castle & Gray 1996 (UK Edition)          All rights reserved. No part of this publication may  be          reproduced  or transmitted in any form or by any  means,          electronic,   mechanical,  photocopying,  recording   or          otherwise, without prior permission of the publishers.          This magazine is published subject to the condition that          it  shall not, by way of trade or  otherwise  circulated          without  the  publishers prior consent in  any  form  or          binding  or  cover  other  than  that  in  which  it  is          published  and without similar condition including  this          condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.          Merrill, Castle & Gray.          e-mail:ed-mcg@bartra.demon.co.uk   -- Distribution ManagerMerrill, Castle & Gray

  
electra_magazine_1996_10