Synopsis

Thrown out of her home by her mother, sixteen years old, Kate is taken in by a fisherman as his daughter. Later she saves his life and changes her own.

# Stray Kitten

#

by obohobo

## Warnings

##

Please take note!

The text in this story contains erotic material and is expressly written for adults only.

MF Rom

If you are underage or offended by such material, or if viewing this file is illegal in your locality, then leave, close or delete this file-story now.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead or otherwise is purely coincidental. The ideas and thoughts that follow are pure fantasies. In real life, at the very least they would be unpleasant and probably illegal. Fantasies are like that; daydreams where we can contemplate and imagine the sensations without suffering or inflicting the pain, despair or humiliation.

© obohobo 2011

Breakfast and later

“Would you spare one of those bread rolls, please, Sir?” Kate looked fearfully at the large man, obviously a fisherman from his waterproof smock and navy blue sailor’s cap, as he walked along the seawall carrying a clear plastic carrier bag. His lunch box attracted her attention. The man paused and gazed at the young girl trying to keep warm in the meagre shelter of the bridge, a bridge too tall to prevent her getting wet or feeling the effects of the cold wind. “She’s very young to be away from home but she doesn’t look like a prostitute,” he thought while looking at the girl’s round face surrounded by a colourful woolly hat. He partially revised his opinion of her being a prostitute when hunger driven, she very hesitantly asked again and added, “I... I... I’ll give you a blowjob if I can have two.”

“You must be pretty desperate to make that offer. Have you been here all night? Shouldn’t you be in school? Are you one of the homeless?”

“Two nights, Sir, and yes, I am homeless and have no money and the job centre wouldn’t let me sign on because I didn’t have my birth certificate. I’ve just finished school, Sir.”

“The answer to your request my little kitten, is no, but I can do better than a couple of rolls and don’t need a blowjob, not out here in this weather. Get your stuff together and we’ll go and see Meg at the café in the marina.”

“But I’ve no money, none at all.” The girl almost cried.

“You said that, and I wasn’t suggesting you to pay for the food, not with money nor with your mouth.” Hardly believing her ears, Kate gathered her bundle of clothes, pushed her woolly hat back and straightened her creased clothes as much as she could. The man watched and wondered at the events that caused an attractive young girl, with decent clothes, albeit a little worse for wear and dishevelled after having been slept in for several nights, not to have a proper home with her family. “She’s not unlike my daughter, the daughter I never see except in pictures, similar slightly stocky build but my daughter has blonde hair and hers in dark,” he mused. Somewhat fearfully Kate followed him along the path, a path too narrow to allow them to talk, a path she knew led to the marina where there would be other people if things didn’t go as the man said.

“Morning Meg,” he greeted the dumpy woman behind the counter in the café.

“Morning Skip,” she replied with a smile and eying the girl standing nervously at his side, “What would you like today?”

“Not for me, give this stray kitten a breakfast, I’ve a feeling she hasn’t eaten for a few days.” He threw a five pound note on the counter, “I’ve to go to the marina stores and get a fitting for the boat and if it’s any more, I’ll pay when I come back for a mug of tea.”

“Sit yourself down, Kitten, and I’ll bring you a man size breakfast as soon as I’ve cooked it. We’ve only just opened and it takes a little while for the hotplates to warm up.” Sitting at a corner table out of the way, her stomach rumbling from the smell emanating from the kitchen, Kate looked around, “A typical working men’s café”, she thought, viewing the Formica topped tables with the condiments, ketchup and brown sauce set centrally, and the four wooden chairs around each. All clean and serviceable, but without frills. From her limited experience, the prices of the meals reflected this and probably attracted working class people rather than clients wanting posh service and fancy wines.

Half an hour later, Skip sat at her table while she finished her meal, “Kitten, what are you going to do for the rest of the day and where will you sleep tonight? Under the bridge?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Her eyes moistened as she thought of another day of fighting the unseasonably cold, wet weather for June and another night outside in the rain.

“Well, two thoughts, and please don’t take this the wrong way and think I’m out to molest you. I’m not. See that blue fishing boat ahead of the white yacht?” He pointed through the window, that’s my boat. If you would like to come out on it, you’ll be very welcome and you won’t come to any harm. I’ve got lifejackets in the shed and I keep an extra woollen sweater on the boat. I have to admit it is not the best of days to go out on the river and won’t be offended if you say, no thanks.” Kitten declined his offer more because of her fear of being alone on a boat with him were she wouldn’t be able to get any help if she needed it, than from the weather conditions. “That’s fine,” Skip continued, “I didn’t think that would appeal to you, especially on a day like this. The second offer is of a room in my house. My son used it until he left home, it has a single bed and all the usual wardrobes and a desk and it has a lock on the door. We’d share the bathroom and I’d expect you to help with the chores but otherwise, I’d treat you like a daughter and I promise you will not be interfered with in any way.” A look of horror flashed across her face when he mentioned he’d treat her like a daughter, but Skip didn’t notice it and continued, “However, if you feel a bit lonely, I won’t mind if you decide to relieve my loneliness and come for a cuddle in bed but I’ll never rape you, that I promise. You don’t have to make up your mind right now, I’ll be back about 2:30 and if you’re still around, you can give me your decision then. I’ll pay for another mug of tea for you and unless a crowd comes in, I doubt if Meg will mind if you take a long while drinking it. At least it’s warm in here.”

Kate made the tea last an hour, even though it went stone cold, and prepared herself to be thrown out when Meg came to her table. Customers had started arriving and many of the tables were occupied. “Have you done any waitressing, Kitten?” That appeared to be her name now and in a way she didn’t mind because it gave her a sense of anonymity. She shook her head. “Like to give it a try? My usual help has morning sickness and can’t make it, probably until after lunch. I can’t pay you properly but I can fiddle a tenner from the till and you may get some tips if they like you.”

“What have I to lose? I’ll be in the warm and get a little money and I may well get lunch here too,” she thought and went into the staff washroom to clean and tidy herself and don the big white apron Meg gave her to help cover her rather unsightly clothes.

In the first two hours with not too many customers in at a time, she quickly became adept in taking the orders and, being a top student, had no difficulty in adding the customer’s bill, punching it into the ancient till and working out the change. Some of her old happy outgoing spirit returned and she began to enjoy the work and mixing with the customers. At 12:30 a group of eight construction workers arrived, pushed tables together and rearranged the seating. They were boisterous but friendly and Meg took the orders from one end of the table and Kate the other. “Who’s she?” one man asked Meg.

“That’s Kit,” already her pseudonym had been shortened, “Jolene’s sick and Kit came by and is giving me a hand. Be nice to her boys, she hasn’t done this before.”

Apart from having her bottom felt a few times, all went well until Kate calculated the bill for a man they called Seff. “That’s £14.50,” she informed him.

“You need to go back to school girlie, it only comes to £13.50.” Kate quickly and mentally recalculated his bill and knew she had added it correctly and when the group became silent and the eyes of the others focussed on her, she guessed Seff teased her and decided to tease him back.

“I’m sorry Sir, but I fear it is you that need to return to school but in your school days, I guess you still used your fingers as calculators. I’ll work it out your way for you if you will put your hands up.” Amidst laughter and comments from his friends, Kate pushed a finger down for each £1 the items cost and when all ten digits on his hands were used, she took the ten pound note and went on to calculate the rest.” With the approval of his friends, Seff had to admit his so-called mistake.

He tried to get his own back near the end of the meal. “Another mug of tea please Kit.” He placed a 50p coin on the counter.

“Tea is £1, Sir.”

“Second cups are half price.”

“Is that right, Sir?” She noticed Meg give her a strange look. “If you sit down Sir, I’ll bring it to you. We’re just making a fresh pot and it needs to brew.”

Minutes later, she placed a half filled mug in front of him. “Heh, Girlie, aren’t you going to fill it?”

“Half price tea is for half a mug full, Sir.” His friends erupted into laughter again, as did other customers in the café.

“She got the better of you again,” one remarked.

Fortunately Seff took it all in good part and laughed with the others. “Do you live around here, Kit?”

“Sort of,” Kate hesitated to reply.

“She’s one of the homeless ones, I saw her under the bridge when I went for my morning jog,” a lanky construction worker remarked.

“No need to sleep under the bridge tonight, you can sleep in my Portocabin, no charge,” Seff grinned.

“And how long would it be before you cheated on me?” Kate grinned too and returned to the counter.

“That Seff is always trying it on. He’s just a wag but sometimes he gets Jolene so confused I have to go and sort him out,” Meg told her when the men had left and the room quietened, “You kept them under control very well and I’ve no doubt they’ll talk about you for a while yet.”

“And I did well for tips from them.”

A new home

Jolene came in and took over while Kate sat with Meg to eat lunch. “Where will you sleep tonight, Kit?” Meg asked looking serious. Kate shrugged. “Skip has a spare room now that his son has moved out, I could ask him for you?”

“He’s already offered it.”

“But you’re not sure about living in the same house as him?” Again Kate nodded. “I pretty sure he wouldn’t harm you and most probably he’d treat you like his daughter.” Unlike Skip, Meg didn’t miss the frown that passed over Kate’s face, “That’s why you’re homeless?” Years streamed down Kate’s face as she nodded. “I really doubt Skip would do whatever your father did and you’d be company for him until you get on your feet. His wife divorced him and went with her lover to Australia and took their daughter with them,” Meg whispered and hugged the girl.

By the time Skip rolled in somewhat later than he’d suggested, Kate had made up her mind to trust him. Seff and the construction gang now knew of her hidey-hole under the bridge and might be tempted to molest her there and the thought of a night in a warm soft bed ensured her acceptance. Once again they walked in single file on the seawall path and along a narrow lane to his cottage about a mile from the café. “This is my home, now your home,” Skip stated as he showed her into her bedroom, “Sorry I never got around to clearing Peter’s posters and stuff from the walls but if you stay, feel free to put up your own. My bedroom’s straight across from here and the third bedroom at the end of the landing opposite the bathroom, is my office. I keep it locked when I’m out because of the hi-tech computer stuff in there and like when my son lived here, when I’m seriously working and don’t want to be disturbed, I’ll shut the door. If the door is open or ajar, feel free to walk in. There should be plenty of hot water for a bath or a shower, so make yourself at home. I’ll cook the fish I caught about 6 o’clock and we’ll eat them in the kitchen.” A hot bath sounded great but after two almost sleepless nights and working in the café, tiredness overcame her and she lay down on top of the bed and fell asleep. Skip’s gentle shaking, woke her in time for her meal.

“We need to talk, Kitten.”

A frown wrinkled Kate’s brow and she thought, “He’s changed his mind and is going to tell me to leave.” To her relief, that wasn’t the case.

They sat at the breakfast table with mugs of tea and after polite questions on how well she slept, Skip made the statement.

“For my own peace of mind and to be able to help you, and you obviously need help, I need to know a little more about you and how you came to be in the situation you’re in now. At the moment, I don’t even know your real name and have taken a considerable risk in bringing you to my home. I know you are not underage because you mentioned that you’d left school and you must be sixteen to leave, but I don’t know if you are a runaway in trouble with the police, although from your manner I rather doubt it. Something or someone caused you to leave home, and it must have been very serious for that to happen to a girl of your age. I know we only met yesterday, but I like you, and although Meg said not to say, ‘like a daughter,’ sort of in that way. Last night in bed, I thought a great deal about you and your offer of a blowjob for two rolls, an offer that seemed totally out of character with your appearance and I wondered if your action and your father were connected in some way?”

For a long while Kate stared into space and inwardly debated whether or not she should reveal her past. “Will he really help me or will he throw me out when he knows what I did?” Her mind vacillated first one way and then the other.

Sensing the uncertainty of her future, Skip reassured her again of a place in his home, “Unless I am likely to get into serious trouble with the police, you can make this house your home, Kitten.”

“What have I got to lose?” she asked herself, “I’ve only one change of clothes and they’re all dirty, maybe if I let him help me he’ll take me to my home, or what was my home, and I can get my other stuff.”

Hesitantly she started her tale. “I’m Kate, Kate Paulsen and my home is, or was, in Combswell. Mother still lives there but I’ve no idea where Dad is now, mother threw him out eighteen months ago when she discovered me... giving him a blowjob.” She paused to see if Skip would get angry but he simply nodded and indicated for her to go on. “It started when I was thirteen and a bit. One evening when mother went to one of her WI meetings I went into the living room, not expecting daddy to be there. He sat in front of the computer watching porn and pulled me on to his lap to watch it with him. Most of the videos showed girls enthusiastically sucking men with large penises and I soon felt him touching my thigh. “It’s time you learned to do that, Katie,” he said and forced me down between his legs. I resisted but couldn’t compete against his strength and found it easier and less painful to give in than to fight him. I threatened to go to the authorities but he laughed and asked if I really wanted to see him go to prison and if I wanted to live in a foster home. I didn’t. Thereafter, whenever we were alone at home, he forced me to give him a blowjob and in the end, I just did it and went back to whatever I was doing.”

“You didn’t offer to do it to him? Did you get any enjoyment from it?”

“I never made any advances to him and tried not to be in the house with him whilst mother was out, but she often left work for me to do and I had to do it whether Dad was in the house or not. If I’m truthful, and I’m trying to be with you, Skip, sometimes I did enjoy it, or at least the power I had to make him hard and almost subservient to me.”

“He never went further than wanting blowjobs?”

“No, I think he feared being caught or getting me pregnant and sent to prison for rape as well as incest. Mother caught us when she came home early one evening and blew her top and in a fury immediately sent Daddy away. She said if ever he came near her again, she’d report the pair of us. Then she turned her wrath on me and called me a slut and a whore before giving me her ultimatum without me being able to explain. “To keep up appearances, you can live here as you have done until the end of your secondary schooling, then you will leave and find somewhere else to live even if you have to get a job and miss college. She turned me out a fortnight ago. I stayed with a friend a week but her family didn’t want me after mother had phoned them and hinted that I might set my sights on the husband and I spent the rest of the time living rough. Two nights ago I thought I found a reasonable place to sleep but a group of youths came by and said I could only stay there if they could have sex with me, they didn’t say it in a polite way like that, and I managed to get away and left town, eventually ending up at the bridge.”

“Your mother didn’t believe you were forced to do it?”

“No, she said my face showed how much I enjoyed fellating him, she used that word, and ignored all my protests and denials. She also said that much as she disliked having to harbour a teenage whore, it would be much worse to have a pregnant girl to look after and she took me to the doctors to get contraceptive pills. Her motives were more to do with having to keep me longer if I had a baby. I still take the pills but I’ve never needed their use.”

“I’m sorry if this sounds a bit like an interrogation but probably it is the quickest way to get the information, much like I have to when I interview people for newspaper articles. Has that turned you against all men?”

“No, I don’t think so. I often imagine what it might be like to give myself to a kind man or boy who would treat me as a woman with feelings and not just demand their own satisfaction.”

“Do you have any other clothes, Kitten?”

“Not with me, all my other stuff is still in boxes at home. Mum made me pack everything several days before the end of term and said she would store them for three months to give me time to find a place of my own. I now have?”

“Yes, of course you have. We’ll arrange to go in my van and pick your stuff up.”

With relief at the knowledge she again had a home, Kate’s face brightened and some of her spirit returned, “Can I step down from the dock now, Sir?” Kate smiled and went on, “Well you know my proper name now, but I don’t know yours. Do I get to interrogate you?”

“If you wish but I’ll start by saying that I’m Bob Morlock although around here no one calls me Bob, and if you asked for me by that name you’d get blank looks. I work freelance as a cartoonist where I sign myself PIKZ which is Skip backwards, well almost, and write occasional articles for several newspapers and magazines. Mostly I do that when the weather is poor and I cannot go fishing, that’s my main love. I inherited this house and a largish sum of money and bought the boat, the Red Eagle, and go out on it when I can, sometimes like yesterday, for angling, and when I can find a crew, I do a bit of trawling. Unfortunately my main crewman, a retired seaman had a fall and cannot get on to the boat now.”

“How old are you Skip?”

“Thirty-eight.”

“You married young?”

“That’s perceptive of you. Yes, my wife was pregnant when we married and my son’s nineteen and lives with a girl near their college up in Yorkshire I don’t see them very often. I haven’t seen my daughter, who is your age for six years. My wife found a wealthy lover who took her and Sharon to Australia. She emails me now and again and sends pictures but I haven’t actually seen or held my daughter since she was a skinny thing and now she’s a beautiful girl, much like you. Perhaps I wanted you as a substitute for her.”

“Flatterer!”

“Get used to it, Kate or would you rather I still called you Kitten?”

“Kitten or Kit will do fine, it will help to separate me from my past. Perhaps we ought to clear up now? Would you mind phoning my mother for me and arrange to collect my things, that is, if you are not off on the boat again. I don’t think she really wants to hear from me.”

A new life

“So my slut of a daughter quickly found an old man to look after her,” Rachel Paulsen snapped when saw Skip in his seaman’s outfit.

“Not so, Mrs. Paulsen, I found her and had I not taken her in, she might well have ended up in hospital with pneumonia or worse and an enquiry as to how it happened might have proved awkward for you. She’ll be a substitute for the daughter I have in Australia. Here’s my address so perhaps you will be kind enough to forward her mail and let her have any that has come since she left.” He handed her a card on which he’d written his address and phone number and reluctantly she agreed, knowing she would legally be at fault if she didn’t, and, refusing to speak with Kate, handed a bundle to Skip.”

“Can I have my bicycle from the garage, please? We’re three miles from town and I’ll need it to get to the job centre and benefits office and to get to college when term starts.” Again refusing to answer Kate, she handed the key to Skip.

As a reaction to her mother’s refusal to acknowledge her, Kate cried quietly as they drove back to her new home and until they were indoors, Skip could do nothing to comfort her. Once inside he clasped her tightly to his chest, hugged and chastely kissed her forehead. Kate’s response took him by surprise; she kissed him fully on the lips, thanked him for helping and held him closer to her body until she felt his manhood stiffen against her thigh. “Sorry,” she murmured, “Perhaps we’d better leave dealing with that until I’ve unpacked and sorted my room out. I didn’t mean to tease you.” She broke away, grabbed one of the boxes and fled upstairs. Slightly bewildered by the turn of events, Skip waited a few minutes before carrying more of the boxes to her room.

Alone in bed that night, Kate reminisced on the day’s events and her relationship with Skip. For much of the afternoon he’d left her alone because a newspaper wanted a cartoon to go with an article and it had to be ready for the evening print run. The door to the computer room remained firmly shut for two hours and knowing not to disturb him, she started the evening meal ready for when he came out, neither mentioned her kissing or his getting an erection. “Why did I do that?” she asked herself, “I know I wanted to be loved after the cold shoulder mother gave me but did I want him to make love to me? Did I really behave like a slut? Will he think ill of me and not have the image of an innocent daughter? Will he think that I am here for the taking? No, I don’t think so. He said he wouldn’t force me into anything so I expect any initiative must come from me. I wonder what it will feel like to have a man inside me, have him fuck me? I’m sure Skip will be gentle when I do give myself to him. How soon will that be?”

Across the landing, Skip also took a long while to get to sleep because his thoughts turned to Kate. “Was she just very lonely when she hugged me or has she feelings for an old man? Sexual feelings? Or does she feel beholden to me for giving her a place to live and food in her belly? With over twenty years difference in our ages, our relationship probably wouldn’t last too long although I know one couple that have been together many years and are still together with him in his eighties and she in her sixties so it could work even if the odds are not good. For a teenager, she mucked in and helped with the cooking and cleaning which I more than Peter did and I doubt Sharon helps her mother much. I’ll have to wait and see how things progress and let her make the first move.” He slowly drifted off to sleep.

“Sleep well, Kitten?”

“Fine,” she answered and poured her morning cup of tea, “What are your plans for today?”

“It’s Friday so it’s market day and I usually go in on the bus because parking is almost non existent in the town centre, and I get my fresh vegetables and other things there. There’s only one bus an hour so we’ll have to time what we do or have a long wait. The job centre and other places you might need are nearby too and now that you have your papers, you can sign on and see if they have any jobs until you go to college. Weather forecast is good so we could go out on the boat later, if you feel like finding out what it’s like on the water. Anything you want to do?”

“Nothing special but I would like to be able to connect my laptop to your router. When I tried yesterday, it could see it but it was locked so I couldn’t access it. I might be able to contact my friend Claire, again then.” So began the routine of their life together.

For several weeks, their father/daughter relationship continued and while each wondered if they dared take it to a more intimate level, neither of them wanted to disturb the rapport that had developed. Through Skip, Kate found a part-time job at the marina stores and spent two days a week there and earned a little money in addition to the benefit money she finally received from the government and most of this she put towards her 6th form college fees although for her, tuition was free but she would still have to buy text books and stationary. Quickly finding a liking for life on the water, she soon became adept at guiding and handling, the Red Eagle and normally several times a week they went out on it either trawling or angling.

Claire, her friend from school, visited several times but wasn’t so keen to be on the boat although she enjoyed walking along the river path and spending time in Kate’s house and these visits kept Kate up to date with the news from home. “Her attitude to you hasn’t changed,” Claire told her after she called to see if there were any letters for Kate, “She still calls you her whore daughter and believes you are Skip’s mistress.”

The accident and afterwards

Towards the end of July, when they’d been together for seven weeks, a near tragedy permanently changed their relationship. At the inquiry, Kate’s handling of it came in for much praise and her picture appeared in national as well as local papers but before then a high level police officer questioned her.

“Tell us in your own words, what happened aboard the Red Eagle, Miss Paulsen,” the detective inspector Markham asked and later told her to read through her statement and sign it.

‘It all happened so quickly it is difficult to remember what happened. We were about two miles down river from the mooring and started to shoot the trawl and I had the engine in gear and ticking over so we were going only a little faster than the water. This is our normal way when Skip puts the trawl into the water. The fresh to strong wind, against the tide, made the water quite rough and the boat bounced about a lot and I had to concentrate on keeping a steady course. I heard a loud bang or twang and when I looked round the right hand warp had slipped from its snatch block and hit Skip on the thigh and knocked him to one side and his foot went into the bight of the left hand warp. This caused him to let go of both ropes and the heavy trawl and our forward speed quickly sank it into the water. The bight tightened on Skip’s leg above his ankle and whipped him over the side and into the sea. For a few moments I saw the yellow balloons of his life jacket as they inflated but the weight of the trawl dragged him under. I knew I had to save him and almost automatically took the engine out of gear. The net must have been near the bottom by then as the warps only slowly ran over the side and I grabbed them and took a couple of turns round the winch like I’d seen Skip do, and hauled it back in as fast as I dared and long minutes later I saw the yellow balloon things again and his head broke the surface. Eventually I got him to the stern of the boat but wasn’t strong enough to lift him out, not with the weight of the beam trawl hanging on his leg and the weight of him in his wet clothing so I swung the derrick and put a rope under his armpits and lifted him up a bit so his upper body was more or less out of water but with the heavy swell, he often got ducked under. Skip was barely conscious but he coughed a number of times so I knew he was alive. He didn’t seem to be able to use his arms or do anything for himself though and I didn’t dare pull him right out of the water with the derrick for fear of tearing his leg off so I alternately pulled in the warp on the winch and raised him a little until I could get hold of the rope below his leg and freed it from him. I got well soaked as well but I got Skip on deck and dragged him to the shelter of the wheelhouse and put him in the recovery position and made sure his mouth was clear, then used to derrick for its normal purpose of getting the trawl on deck. I went below and grabbed the space blanket from its cubby-hole and wrapped it around him. I didn’t know what else to do.

Skip coughed up water every now and again but otherwise lay there. I headed the boat back at full speed and phoned 999 for an ambulance to meet us at the marina and phoned the marina master to get permission to moor at a pontoon. He helped tie us up and said to leave the boat where it was for the time being and directed the ambulance men and the police that arrived as well. I went with Skip to the hospital and they pumped his lungs and checked his legs and luckily nothing was broken but he’ll have a huge bruise and hardly any skin on his ankle for a while. They checked me too but I’d only had a soaking. He’ll be in hospital at least until tomorrow.

Signed: Kate Paulsen’

The inspector commended her actions and said, “From what I’ve heard so far, you did the right things, and undoubtedly saved his life.”

Soon after the press and media wanted interviews and fortunately one of them, a woman reporter, offered Kate a lift home in the hope of getting a little more of a story. In a gentle way she discovered how Kate, a sixteen-year-old girl, came to live with Skip, a near forty-year-old man without Kate giving away her relationship with her father. When a glorified version of her story appeared in the local paper, it didn’t reflect well on her mother and further alienated the pair.

Two days later, the marina master helped her take the Red Eagle back to her mooring and to tidy up the net and warps and later that day, one of the men she met in the stores offered to bring Skip home in his car. When she’d visited the previous day, the nurse suggested Kate bring shorts rather than trousers because they wanted to let the abrasions dry up. “You may have more difficulty in letting the abrasions on his upper thigh dry up, but if you can get him to wear a long shirt when he’s home, that will help and the doctor will prescribe an ointment to help keep the skin soft,” the nurse smiled as she said it. Skip asserted he could walk to the car but the nurse firmly insisted Kate use a wheelchair and when they arrived home, she knew why; Skip could only painfully hobble into the house using her as a crutch.

In nurse mode, Kate sat Skip on the settee and propped his leg up on a stool, made tea and sat beside him. All her courage and fortitude then vanished and she flung her arms around him and cried, “Oh, Skip, oh, God, I thought I’d lost you, it seemed so long before I could get that damn net up and then the struggle to get you aboard, I thought you were going to die before I could get help. Oh. I’m so glad you’re back home, I missed you so much.” She hugged and kissed him fervently and a glance at his shorts revealed the effect she had on him but she knew she’d cause him more pain if she went further at that time. “I’m not going to stop when he gets a little better, and I will see everything he has in his pants when I put the ointment on his thigh. Perhaps I will make him only wear a shirt, after dinner maybe, when we shouldn’t get any visitors. Better have a blanket ready just in case, though,” she silently planned.

For a while Skip tried to comfort her and said that it was a once in a lifetime happening and would never happen again. “In hospital, I had lots of time to think, lots of time to revue my life and realised that even if it had been a normal fishing trip and you hadn’t needed to save my life, I still wouldn’t wish for you to leave me. I love you more than a daughter, I love you more than I should love a daughter, Kitten.”

Kate cried again at his words and paraphrased, “I love you too Skip, I love you in ways a girl shouldn’t love her father and I’ll love you always.”

After dinner, Kate put her plan into action and made Skip sit with only his shirt on, a short shirt at that, but one he pulled down a far as he could, even so, Kate had glimpses of his penis lying between his thighs. “No need to be shy, I’m going to put the ointment on in a minute, the nurse said to do it early in the evening so it had chance to soak in before bed and then it wouldn’t get rubbed off on the sheets. I’ll do your ankle first to save you a little embarrassment, but not much,” she giggled and started to apply the cream. She’d started lifting his shirttails to start on his thigh when the phone rang. “Is Dad home yet, Kit?”

“Yes, he’s right here, Peter.” She’d phoned him soon after the accident so he knew what happened; she passed the phone over and heard one side of the conversation.

“Yes, I’m much better, or would be if it wasn’t for a pesky woman pulling off my trousers to put ointment on places a girl of her age shouldn’t see.” He laughed; Kate blushed. The risqué banter continued for a while but eventually he told his son, “The bruises and abrasions to my legs and the muscles underneath are still very tender but I’ll soon be on my feet and running a marathon.”

“Would you like a blowjob? I’ll willingly give you one even if you don’t have any bread rolls!” Her ministrations had already caused his prick to become erect and stand out from his body and he would dearly have liked to fuck her but his legs throbbed despite the painkillers he’d taken. He wanted to say, yes, but hesitated, not wishing to force her and by then Kate had made up her mind, her lips closed around his shaft and her hands gently massaged its length until, earlier than he wanted, Skip spurted in her mouth.

“That was lovely Kitten, but you didn’t have to do it.”

“I know. I did it because I wanted to and because I wasn’t forced to, I enjoyed doing it.”

After more cuddling and kissing, she stood, dimmed the room light and started to leave. “You’ve seen all I have, Kitten, how about letting me see what’s underneath your clothing?” Skip grumbled light-heartedly.

“Maybe later,” she teased, and in her own room muttered, “But not very much later.” Naked and blushing slightly, she returned to Skip’s bed, paused for a few moments and then climbed under the covers and pressed her body against his. “I know it takes an old man like you a little while to recover,” she giggled, “And I feel ready and willing for you to take me right now but can you wait a while until you are fit enough to do it properly and in the meantime, be satisfied with hand and blowjobs?”

“Only if I can reciprocate on you. I shouldn’t be the one to get all the satisfaction but for the moment that damn swim took more out of me than I expected so I’d be pretty useless if I had to perform properly. It will give me an incentive to get better quickly.”

And indeed it did. Four days later, although far from fully fit and still walking painfully and with a pronounced limp, in bed that night after spending time playing with each other, Skip rolled her on her back, spread her legs and introduced his prick into her wet opening a little at a time until her felt her hymen. Withdrawing slightly, he pushed forward, breaching her membrane, causing a stab of pain but Kate knew to expect that. For a minute or two he held still and then began to fuck her with increasingly longer strokes until she thrust back at him and cried out at her climax. “That one good point about having an old man for a lover,” Skip laughed when he finally sent his sperm into her, “You get to cum before I do.”

September came and with it the start of her term at the sixth form college which left her little time for part time work but she still managed to go out on the Red Eagle with Skip several times each week when weather permitted. At home, he treated her like a daughter and helped finance her studies as a blood father would, and at night she became his wife, or in the parlance of the time, his ‘significant other’. For the time being they are happy enough to believe they’ll be together indefinitely but who knows what the future holds and in moments when she is alone, Kate often looks back without regret at that morning under the bridge, when she asked a stranger for a roll. “Fate had her eye on me for sure because I am far better off with Skip that I would ever have been if I’d stayed with mother. A stray kitten never had a better home.”

Finis