Daddy, looking more tired than I could ever remember seeing him, slouched into the kitchen and plonked a couple of shopping bags bearing the names of clothes stores on the table before me. His face broke into a smile on seeing me and my heart melted. He bent to give me a kiss, still on the cheek, but more lingering than the one I'd received from him in the morning. I lifted my face and we exchanged a long look of love before he kissed me again, this time firmly on the lips. Through my nose I breathed out a sigh of relief that caressed both our cheeks.

I beamed at him as he then went to the fridge to pull out the ingredients for the banana, cucumber and avocado smoothie he always made for himself immediately on returning home. I wondered, as always, how he could chug the vile-looking stuff, but that was his way of maintaining the health he needed to be the good lover he was and, being allergic to citrus fruits, his options for smoothie ingredients were limited. I eyed the shopping bags curiously as he rarely shopped for anything, let alone clothes.

"Your mother's not not coming home tonight," he said with a deep sigh, after taking the chair opposite me and a long swig from the thick, green liquid. He looked up at me for a long moment. "She wants me to," he scratched his tousled, blond head, "keep off you." He coughed and took another long drink.

My heart seemed to drop into my stomach and I gulped before asking, "When's she coming back?" I thought of the gentle caress of her fingertips and the brush of her nipples on mine. Didn't she love me anymore?

"I told her I couldn't do that," he continued, seeming not to have heard my question, "and she understands me well enough to know that I can't. She said she can't bear to be in the same house while you and I are," he shrugged, "you know." Touched deeply, I reached across the table and took his hand. For a moment it looked like this handsome, so masculine man would start crying. He was really struggling to keep himself in check, and he managed to, though I would have been happy at that moment to see him release his emotions. He sat up and attempted a smile, which was more like a grimace and said, "You know who she's going to stay with?"

I shook my head gently and wiped a tear away, moved by the war of feelings evinced on his lined features.

"Roz." He laughed mirthlessly and looked down at his drink, then was shaken by a long series of coughs. Alarmed, I squeezed his hand tightly and asked him if he was OK, to which he nodded emphatically, and eventually he recovered.

I thought of Mommy with Rosalind and the same jealousy I'd felt on that day three months earlier now clutched at me firmly, hardening my melancholy to anger. How dare she? I thought, wondering how the young, skinny, redheaded bitch had ensnared my mother. My immediate thought was to find out the address, go over there and show them both how I was the real thing, that I was the better version.

"And she's sending your grandma over here," he said with a sneer and sat back in his chair.

"I'm going to phone her," I said, rising and ignoring this last piece of information. He remonstrated, weakly, but I took his hands as I passed him and caressed them reassuringly before leaving him for my room and my phone. She answered quickly.

"Mommy!" I said, more loudly than I'd meant to.

"Hi, honey," she answered, sounding calm and reasonable. Surely an act, I thought. How could she be calm at a time like this? I took a deep breath.

"What's going on?" I asked in a trembling voice.

"What's going on," she said in a businesslike fashion, "is that you're going to the clinic on the thirteenth to have your little problem taken care of, that's what. And don't start crying about it. You can't have a child with your own father, for god's sake. What will people say? I've used them myself and they'll take excellent care of you." And she began a pointless 'closing the door after the horse has bolted' lecture on the importance of birth control. I wondered vaguely how many siblings of mine Mommy'd had 'taken care of'.

"You hypocrite," I whispered while she went on, but I could not be sure if she'd heard. I just tuned out the rest of her rant while I went back down to the kitchen to find Daddy washing out his plastic mug. "You at Rosalind's?" I interrupted her after enduring a full five minutes of her chewing my ear off. I sat down again and let my idle hands wander towards the shopping bags.

"What?" she asked, now irritable.

I repeated the question and there was a long pause before finally a quiet, "Yes."

"Give the phone to her," I said. "I want to talk to the bitch."

"Sweetie," she said using the artificially soothing tones that would normally work on me so well. Now all they did was wind me up.

"I want to talk to her!" I exploded, my voice an angry squeak. I heard nothing in reply but a long sigh. "Tell her," I said, fighting to control myself, "just tell her she's not me, no matter how hard she tries, and that you'll never love her as much as you love me."

"Oh, honey," she said sounding genuinely sad.

I sat at the table and fumbled with the bags, as unable to control my curiosity as my emotions. "So when are you coming back?" I asked weakly.

"I don't know, sweetie. After your, you know, I'll be able to think more clearly."

I sniffed. "Don't you love me anymore?" If she answered me I never heard as my frustration overcame me and I at last burst into a series of wild sobs. I dropped the phone on the table and grabbed at the contents of the bags, pulling out a clump of pink material from one and a red item of what looked like lacy underwear from the other. They didn't look like anything she would wear. Confused, I picked up the phone again, sniffed and heard her, still there, asking me if I was alright.

"Just give my regards to my double," I said bitterly and hung up. I knew what her problem was: She just couldn't bear it that Daddy was giving more of his sperm to me than her.

I felt his arms embracing me from behind, cuddling me to his chest. I squeezed him back and we stayed like that for an age, occasionally exchanging soft kisses, just gentle brushes of the lips. The feeling of him around me, his hands on my breasts, his stubbly cheek against mine and his broad chest held tight against my shoulders made me feel so protected and secure that the storm of emotions stirred up by my call to Mommy eventually subsided.

"What're these?" I asked presently, indicating the material before me.

"Well," he said, sounding brighter, "we can't have you going around dressed like this," and he gently knocked my straw hat of my head onto the floor. "A fully grown woman dressed as a child? As your mother would say, what would people think?" and he bit my neck playfully, just a tickle with his teeth. I shrugged my shoulder and giggled.  

"You bought me some clothes?" I said and, now impatient to see them properly, pushed my chair back against him to stand. I picked up the pink dress to admire it. It was a short, beautiful prom dress and nicer than anything I had in my wardrobe. The other item confounded me a little.

"What is it?" I asked and again he reached around me from behind to tickle me, this time with his hands sliding up my blouse to play across my ribs to draw sudden, hysterical giggles from me.

"Go put it on and you'll see."

I dashed to my room with both garments, undressed hurriedly, paused for moment with the pair of Mommy's panties in my hand which I then threw angrily into a corner, untied and untangled my plaits, showered and dried myself quickly. Not even glancing at myself in the mirror, I ran back to my room. The underwear item was like a flimsy swimsuit and I realised, once I'd put it on, I was wearing a teddy with a 'V' neck that plunged down between my breasts, almost to my navel, and a back cut so low it failed to hide the top of my ass cleavage. This time I could hardly refrain from looking at myself in the wardrobe mirror. He had known exactly what size to get, but the material chafed a little against my nipples, the buttons of which were plainly visible, as were the lips of my pussy. What a strumpet! I thought, grinned at myself and proudly thrust out my chest

At the dresser I applied some black eyeliner and crimson lipstick. I somehow knew instantly what else to wear: the red, very high heels from my 'Rosalind' outfit. I was still unused to them and almost twisted my ankle just on the short distance back to the kitchen where he was sitting with his feet on the table, waiting for me.

His admiring look gave me the confidence to stride across the tiles and I only slipped up once before quickly recovering. I hopped up and placed my bottom on the working surface, perching there with my legs crossed and what I hoped was a seductive smile on my lips. Daddy stood, never taking his eyes from me, while he went to a cupboard and drew from it a bottle of red wine. I drew my fingers through my hair, found some loose tangles, shook it and let it all fall in a mess on my shoulders while I slowly rubbed my bare legs together, loving the smoothness of them and, when I squeezed my thighs, I felt a thrill of sensual pleasure. Still with his eyes locked onto me he poured some of the wine into glasses without spilling a drop. He clinked his glass to mine as I touched the side of my shoe to his leg and worked it upwards to his belt. I hooked the stiletto through it and wiggled my foot playfully, smiling at the way the material of his black pants tightened across a growing bulge behind the fly. Unused to wine I quickly knocked it back, leaned against a cupboard and looked my Daddy up and down, my gaze lingering at the bulge. I drew the sole of my shoe to meet the place where the material was tenting with increasing tightness and wondered how long it would be before I'd see something red and throbbing burst through the zip. He made to move forward, still with the glass in his hand, but I pressed my shoe into him. He stopped and frustration flickered across his face while I laughed softly. Again he tried to step forward, but continued to feel the pressure of my shoe against his growing hardness. He gulped down the rest of the glass and pressed himself even harder into me. I laughed again, hopped down and ran past him, narrowly escaping his hand which was left groping air. I was eager to try on the prom dress.

Back in my room I quickly pulled off the teddy before donning a new pair of panties. The corset-style bodice of the dress was tight, especially at the chest, but it still fit me perfectly once I'd adjusted myself in it and tightened the lace at the back. My arms were bare and the cups only came up high enough to cover my nipples. Even so they squeezed my boobs together to produce a most satisfying cleavage. For a moment I wondered if it was, in fact, too small for me, but decided it was the style. It was tight enough to assure me that there was no danger of my popping out of it, provided I didn't raise my arms above my head too much. The short skirt was organza, its folds like the petals of a rose, so soft and light it felt like my legs were completely bare.

My hair's such a mess, I thought, but decided I liked the 'just having had my brains fucked out of me in bed' look. I stared at myself in the mirror, thinking how nice it would be if Mommy could see me now. How unable she'd be to resist me! And I thought how much I'd like Rosalind to see me like this, looking finer, I was sure, than she ever could. She had worn her hair like this that time I'd seen her through the window, the 'just having had her brains fucked out of her in bed' look hardly being a problem for her to cultivate. No, I thought, and sat for a couple of minutes while I brushed all the tangles from my thick mane until it shone silkily with a golden sheen.

"Eat your freezing heart out, bitch," I whispered, admiring myself one more time.
I found him in his bedroom adjusting the cuffs of his best silk shirt, his back three quarters turned away from me and naked from the waist down. Silently, and grinning to myself, I grabbed his hard left buttock with one hand and slipped my other hand around to his cock. In my hand it pulsed and hardened swiftly into life and he emitted a gasp from deep in his chest, but then jumped forwards and shook his head.

"We've got to hurry," he said, turning. I looked down at his cock that was pointing at my bare knees.

"Daddy," I said huskily, trying on my best Marilyn Monroe voice, "we've got all the time in the world!" and reached up to slip my arms around his neck. I stood on the tip of one foot while raising the other in the air and planted a playful kiss on his open mouth. He was freshly shaved and I squeezed him with my cheek pressed tightly against his. I could see him really gasping and fighting to control his burgeoning desire. He smelled of a new kind of aftershave, one I instantly loved, and I inhaled him deeply.

He continued to dress. He was really getting himself up to look fine this evening and I watched, amused and confused. My mouth opened in amazement, I'd grown so used to seeing him naked. He, in turn, was looking me up and down admiringly, so I spun in the dress for him. I stood with my weight on one leg, caught tip of my tongue between my teeth and batted my lashes coquettishly, giggling at his struggle to get into his pants, so great was his distraction. Finally he stood before me in a freshly-pressed tuxedo, grinned at me, and went to the mirror to fasten his top shirt button and don a black neck tie which he tied deftly. I had not seen him dressed like this since I'd been out with him and Mommy on their tenth wedding anniversary.

"Let's go!" he said, stuck out his left elbow towards me and smiled at me expectantly. I looked at it, wondering what he wanted me to do with it. Then I remembered how I'd sometimes seen him and Mommy walking together and slipped my right hand into his arm.

"How do I look?" I asked, unsure if I'd used enough makeup.

"Like a billion bucks," he said. I gazed up at him adoringly and he bent to kiss me lightly.

"So do you, Daddy."

Just as he was escorting me from the house another series of coughs shook him, this time even more violently than before, the fit leaving him gasping and pale. We paused in the hall while I held him gently, rubbing his back and arms, feeling powerless to help him, until his breathing returned to normal and his cheeks regained some of their customarily healthy glow.

Outside we were confronted by the sight of my grandmother, about whom I'd completely forgotten, walking from her car up the drive, her high heels tapping loudly in the quiet evening air. Granny was in her late sixties and, despite her slightly plump figure and a pair of hideous horn-rimmed cat eye glasses, which she insisted were 'retro-chic', it'd always been clear to me that it was from her that Mommy had inherited her good looks and not from my late, crusty Grandpa. She wore a stripey yellow and black swing dress, quite loose, I guessed in an attempt to conceal her plumpness. It certainly did nothing to conceal the bumps of her ample and still well-shaped breasts. Her astonishment at the sight of Daddy and me exiting the front door, dressed up to the nines, was plain, though she tried to conceal it with her usual, complacent smile. I cringed inwardly.

Last week she had visited us unannounced and stayed the whole evening. We'd all watched TV mostly in a tense silence, waiting for her to go. Then later we'd stood in the hall waving 'goodbye'. My pussy had been throbbing with frustration for hours which only a savage fuck while pressed against the closed door could satisfy. Daddy had yanked my skirt to my knees, grabbed my arms to pull them back roughly, and plunged into me, making my legs so weak I fell forwards with him pushing hard into me, pressing me into the oak door, pounding away like a pile driver until we'd come hard simultaneously, yelling out in relief and joy.

Granny put her arms around me and we shared a brief hug, before she stood back and looked me up and down.

"Where on earth are you going?" she demanded, sounding imperious as a queen with her English accent. "And where are you going," she called across the car, "all dressed up like James Bond?"

"Evening, Delia," said Daddy gruffly, making straight for the car door. There was no love between him and his mother-in-law. Her sharp eyes and pointed nose followed him, suspicion written across her face.

I thought quickly. "Graduation!" I blurted.

"Graduation? I thought you start college next week."

I winced at the reminder. "Grad," I fumbled, "graduation from school," and I smiled weakly. Daddy was now holding the door, gesturing behind Granny for me to enter. I pecked her on her dry, somewhat leathery cheek, and hopped in. Through the closed door I heard a brief, heated exchange, then we started off down the drive with her gawping after us impotently, probably wondering how to report this to Mommy. I sat back and we both shared sighs and smiles of relief.

We drove to the coast and then south along a road that wound around between cliffs and beaches for miles. On our right the sun squatted like a heavy orange on the sea before sinking and drawing the day's light after it. I leaned my arms on the door with the window down and watched the first pin pricks of bright silver appear in the darkening sky. I loved the way my hair caressed my neck and shoulders as the wind blew through it. I looked back at Daddy at the wheel, the features I adored illuminated dimly by the tiny, blue lights of the car. This was so much like the trips out he had taken me on when I was little, yet so different. In those days I'd known how much he loved me, but now the love had a new depth to it and I felt so cherished for everything I was. I took a breath of the sea air and let it out slowly.

"You OK, hon?" he asked me, to which I nodded with sweet contentment mingled with a wistful longing. At that moment I wanted my Mommy's arms around me. Feeling this happy with her away from us seemed wrong. At odd moments during the drive he took a hand away from the wheel and massaged his chest. For the first time I saw there was something a little different about him, that the tiredness I'd noticed earlier was really pressing down on him and seemed to be drawing the life from him.

She's really hurt him, I thought, then wondered who I meant, Mommy or my double, they were both hurting him. Hurting us. It was all that bitch's fault for phoning just at that moment. Up until then he'd just shoot his seed freely into the air and paint my belly, squirt it across my back, or  hose my face with it. Just the feeling of it raining on me would sometimes be enough to trigger a series of spasms lasting for minutes. But, after the call from Rosalind, the pleasure of this had soon been eclipsed by the sensorium-smothering ecstasy of being filled to the brim, to overflowing, swiftly followed by the sweetness of having it sucked from me, then having it expressed back into my mouth. He hadn't cum outside me again, Mommy had seen to that. Sadly I thought to myself, we're all to blame, not just Rosalind, not just Daddy, all of us.

Drowsily I watched Daddy as his eyes, aimed at the hypnotic white lines on the road, seemed to droop a little and I thought, He really needs to sleep. When I awoke it was to feel light kisses on my throat and a hand pressing my right breast. Instinctively I took the hand and slipped it under the cup of the dress. I squirmed with pleasure at the touch of his palm on my hardening nipple.

"Oh, Daddy," I whimpered and parted my legs as his hand moved downwards.

Through heavy eyelids I saw dimly that we'd arrived in the car park of an old, brightly illuminated building. A well-dressed couple passed us, hand in hand, so close they could surely see us. I tensed and Daddy cleared his throat, seeming to think better of taking advantage of me just at that moment. He pulled away from me and ran a hand through his slightly tousled blond hair while I straightened my dress. He then reached into the glove box and retrieved two small, black objects, one a cube and the other oblong.

"I want you to have this," he said with uncharacteristic diffidence and popped the light cube into my hand. "It was my mother's," he added looking down. Holding it with both hands I found it was hinged at the back. I opened it slowly while my heart hammered in my chest, and there, resting on a pillow of cotton wool, sat something that sparkled more brightly and beautifully than any star in the sky, a ring of white gold with a diamond that sent dazzling shards of light into my eyes. I think I failed to breathe for a minute. It wasn't until I had taken it in my fingers that I think I accepted that it was real. I saw the inscription inside, 'Elsa & Michael', the names of my paternal grandparents, and I turned it over and over, wondering at the object's beauty.

"Daddy," I whispered, "this is too much," and shook my head faintly.

He held my left hand firmly, took the ring and slipped it onto my finger. The fit was slightly loose, but it shone from my hand looking so bright and lovely I could hardly refuse it now. Still, the question was forced from me, "Why are you giving me this?"

After a pause as he looked out at the couples crossing from their cars to the building he said, trying to sound casual, "So that people think we're a regular couple."

I tried to smile, but I was too overwhelmed by warring emotions. I was so happy, yet plagued by the feeling that I was betraying my mother. She knew of the depths of love Daddy and me shared, but without her here with us now the love seemed somehow incomplete. I looked over to him and we exchanged a long look, gazing into each others' eyes. Then he took the other box, opened that and took from it a silver chain, as thin as the gossamer threads that would link my lips to him whenever I drew breath after taking as much of him into my mouth as I could. From this chain hung a silver heart. He leaned across, let the heart drop gently between my breasts, and clasped the chain at my nape. Stunned, I took the small heart in my hands and saw my name inscribed followed by 'forever' in a beautiful, italic script.  

"Daddy," I breathed, gazing in wonder at these two gifts, and I would have burst into tears at that moment were it not for the feel of his strong hand on mine, squeezing reassuringly.

I heard him step from the car, walk around to my side and open the passenger door. "C'mon, honey," he said gently, bending down to help me out. I stood a little shakily and it was so typical of him that, noticing my nervousness, he put his arm around me and held me tightly for a few moments. I placed my hand on his chest and looked up at him through my thick, damp lashes for reassurance, took a deep breath and nodded. With my hand firmly held in his he lead me to an open door at the side of the building.

Inside, after we'd passed through an artistically illumined conservatory full of hot house plants and flowers and from that into a spacious reception area, a middle aged lady in a white blouse and smart black slacks greeted us, smiled warmly and lead us to the bar. I took an instant liking to her, and Daddy was the perfect gentleman, engaging her in slightly flirtatious small talk, every inch the smooth operator. She handed us menus and told us she'd return soon. The place was far from busy, with just a few other couples who, just as Daddy and I, were holding hands and talking quietly while gazing into each others' eyes. All the lighting was concealed and subdued but still made plain the luxurious nature of the furnishings and decor. It was also bright enough to show that, on my bike ride earlier, my arms thighs had caught the sun, not too badly, but I rubbed at them feeling self-conscious.

After a glance at the menus I said into his ear, "I bet I can eat more than you!" My tummy was really growling now.

"Seafood here's excellent," he said, "fresh from the sea."

Through an open door, from a wide room illuminated with colored lights, came the sound of a romantic Eighties song, one I vaguely recognised. I could see a couple a little older than my parents, moving slowly, holding each other, lost in each other. Daddy noticed I had as much interest in this as the menu and asked me if I wanted to dance. I nodded, but then a discrete cough sounded from a few steps away. We looked up and saw, not the smiling waitress from before, but a slightly nervous looking, young, male waiter, no older than myself, perhaps younger, looking down at us from a great height. He was stick-thin and incredibly tall.

"Can I take your orders, sir? Madam?" he inquired.

I almost looked around me, confused, wondering who the 'madam' could be. Daddy also coughed a little, betraying slight annoyance at the interruption, then asked me what I'd like. I'd hardly given it serious consideration, so taken aback had I been by these opulent surroundings. We both ordered oysters to begin, or Daddy ordered and I nodded mutely, blushing under the young man's gaze. I self-consciously held my menu close to my chest, wondering how much of me he'd seen from such a steep angle. When Daddy looked up another look of annoyance passed across his face.

"Hey!" he said, raising his voice slightly. The boy shone a bright red, tore his gaze from me and took the rest of our order. Daddy rolled his eyes, took my hand, smiled at me, and lead me to the ballroom.

It was just the one other couple there, but I instantly felt shy and pulled Daddy's hand back. "Don't hold out on me now," he said, firmly grasping my hand, then my arm, "I know you learned to dance at school. Hell, I paid for it," and slipped his arm around my waist. I had indeed taken extra-curricular lessons at the convent school from a strange, tiny French man, a ballet dancer, who'd visited the school twice a week in the evenings, but this was the first time I'd ever danced outside of the school, and I'd certainly never danced with Daddy. Not in public anyway, and certainly not like this.

Another slow, smoochy tune started and he sang along in his pleasant tenor which I'd not heard since my fourteenth birthday when he'd sung karaoke. "Cause you know just what to say and you know just what to do." I smiled up at him. "And I want to tell you so much," he looked into my eyes and added, "I love you," which he whispered. He touched his lips lingeringly to mine and my heart fluttered and sang like a canary in my breast.

Another couple appeared on the floor while Daddy held me close to his chest and guided me easily through a series of gentle steps. He was better than I'd expected and seemed pleased with the efforts I made to keep up with him.

"Nice to see those lessons were worth it," he said and spun me around, then drew me to him even closer than before. I lifted my face and he bent his head to touch the tip of his nose to mine. I laughed softly and rubbed his nose back, overwhelmed by his charm.

"Bit different to a lap dance, huh?" he said, winking. "Didn't you learn that off your friend, by the way? Can't remember the name. Can't imagine they teach lap dancing in that school." He laughed. He often mentioned Miranda, trying and failing to sound casual. "I guess you're looking forward to seeing her again at college?"

This time, rather than teasing him as I normally would, I assured him, "Miranda's seeing someone else," and, though he tried to mask his relief, I felt a subtle relaxation in the muscles of his wrists and arms.

The lady waitress we'd seen earlier passed through the room and smiled at us. I wondered what everyone must think of us, whether they knew what my relationship was with this handsome man in his thirties and what he was doing with a skinny, freckle-faced teen, apparently young enough to be his daughter. Did they guess? Could they know from looking at us that he really was my father? I'd often been told that my looks took more from him than Mommy. I tried to catch the eyes of the other dancers, waiting to see looks of surprise, perhaps revulsion at the sight of such deviance. But these uncomfortable thoughts were quickly dispelled when the lady waitress returned through the room, passed us closely and said, "You make such a perfect couple." I beamed and rested my head on my Daddy's chest, feeling it rise and fall against me, and I realised this had been just the validation I'd been needing. I seemed to float in space and time lost its meaning until the boy waiter called us into the dining room as our starter was served.

In the room, all glistening with cut glass and shining silverware, there were only three other occupied tables. The waiter drew a chair back from a table in a corner by the window and looked at me expectantly. Daddy strode over, took the chair from him, coughed slightly and gestured for me to sit while the boy stood back, unsure what to do. I sat down, let Daddy tuck me in and watched with amusement as he completely ignored the waiter's help with his own chair. The lady waitress brought our food, two steaming bowls of oysters, while the boy opened the bottle of sweet white we'd ordered and poured, trembling, but managing not to spill it.

Daddy gruffly dismissed him without looking at him, cleared his throat, then coughed violently. Noticing the carafe of iced water between us I hastily poured him a glass and told him to drink. He gratefully swallowed the whole glass, then took a sip from his wine while I watched him with concern.

"I'm fine, hon," he said, waving his hand. "Eat."

I quickly finished the bowl, far sooner than he finished his, but still felt incredibly hungry. I asked him if I could have a second helping, to which he agreed happily and another bowl of the oysters was soon brought which I also wolfed down quickly. My tummy gurgled a little as I shifted in my seat, but I soon felt fine. We exchanged happy grins while I took the interval between the main course to stuff myself with a white roll and butter. I don't think I'd ever been so hungry.

When the main course arrived I was ready to devour it with my fingers, the starters having merely awakened my hunger rather than satisfying it. I had a fish head curry while Daddy tucked into lobster. Both dishes came with plates of vegetables piled high, including two corn cobs.

"I bet your mother's not eating this well tonight," he said around a mouthful.

I wondered how she could be spending the evening. "What's her place like?" I asked, assuming that bitch's domestic situation would be much like mine and Miranda's, that she'd still be living with her parents. I took a sip of the lovely wine which was already going to my head.

"Whose? Roz'?"

I nodded, wincing inwardly at just the mention of the name.

He considered for a moment, looking at the white table cloth between us. "It's a really nice apartment she has in the city centre. You wouldn't believe it, actually." He laughed slightly and shook his head. "She must make a packet doing that job and I think much of her client base is really wealthy."

"What job?" I asked.

He looked up at me and paused chewing for a moment. "Escorting," he said, shrugged slightly, then continued eating.

"I think she's cheap," I said while biting viciously into a fish head. "And I think it's lousy of Mommy to want someone like that. At least you stopped seeing her. How can someone like that love Mommy? She can't."

He nodded and said nothing. I noticed he was looking increasingly tired. Presently, after popping more of the fish into my mouth and chewing contemplatively while looking at my reflection in the window, I said, "I wonder how much she makes."

He tensed, paused in this eating, and said around a mouthful, "Oh, no!" He looked at me knowingly, then gulped his food down with a sip of wine. "You belong to me and your mother, no one else."

I smiled and patted his hand reassuringly. "I know, Daddy."

Once we'd finished the main course we looked around to find that we were the only diners left. The meal had been extended by my asking for a second helping of the main course, a request they said was a little 'irregular', but to which they'd complied after being offered a good tip. I'd quickly devoured all the food while he had sat and watched with mounting amazement. I'd amazed myself, not least as fish head curry was something I'd never even considered eating before. My hunger for food had abated, though now it was being eclipsed by hunger of another kind. Sitting back, with my glass full of the last of the wine and feeling so relaxed, I gazed across the remains of the meal at my Daddy, giggling at the noises my tummy made. The waiters seemed to have left us alone and all was quiet.

An idea occurred to me. I'd already kicked off my shoes. I lifted a foot and placed my heel on his seat between his legs, then pressed my bare sole into his crotch. I felt his fly and, behind it, the rising warmth of something rapidly growing from soft to hard. He gasped and I paused for a moment, wondering if I was exciting him too quickly, until I felt his hand caressing me under the table cloth, urging me to continue. I grinned and placed my other foot against him, pressing hard until he began to bulge between both my insteps. I squeezed my feet together and teased him, feeling his length increase until I could draw both insteps up and down each side, stroking him through the material of his pants. He aided me with his hands, manipulating my feet, pressing my soft soles into him, then using them to stroke himself up and down.

"I love you so much, Scarlett," he whispered, staring into my eyes, then at my chest.

I noticed the bare cobs on my plate before me, stripped of all their corn, and had another idea. Looking around to check that we were still alone, I took one from the plate, passed it under the table cloth, sat back further and parted my knees, with my feet still pressed into him, pulled my panties aside and stroked myself gently with the tip that was still moist with my saliva. He guessed what I was up to, snorted, smirked, and cast glances around him at the empty tables. I winked at him, gazed into his lovely, sky blue eyes and drew the cob across my pussy lips to moisten it further. I sucked it provocatively for a moment, nibbled the last of the corn from it, made sure the end felt reasonably smooth and pressed it gently into my waiting hole. It felt really strange, but still lovely and hard. I tipped my head back and concentrated on the pleasure it gave me while imagining it was him inside me, taking me right there, pushing further and further into me. Now almost flat in my chair, I was still just able to see him over the edge of the table while my bottom hung in the air and my back strained to keep me from falling onto the carpet, something I only managed to avoid through the firm grip of my Daddy as he held my feet and by the tension of my body as it anticipated a climax. The discomfort of the position did nothing to dampen my pleasure and I soon came with my knees quivering and knocking on the underside of the table.

At that moment, as if on cue, the boy waiter appeared to ask us if there was anything more we needed. "Madam?" he asked, looking down at where I lay in the chair with my hair in disarray. "Sir?" he inquired, but Daddy appeared not to hear.

"Um," I said, cleared my throat, and managed to say, my voice trembling from orgasmic aftershocks and suppressed hilarity, "no thanks," finally exploded in fits of giggles and collapsed, my bottom hitting the floor first, swiftly followed by the rest of my loose body. The boy left us, apparently completely baffled, after failing to receive any reply at all from Daddy, who was biting his lip in an effort perhaps not to laugh out loud, or perhaps through trying not to make a mess in his pants. I withdrew drew my feet from his lap, slipped the bare cob from my dripping pussy, sat up, and ran my fingers through my hair in a futile effort to restore some dignity to myself.

Daddy paid the bill and we left quickly, stifling laughter like a pair of naughty children. I'd knocked back three big glasses of the wine and was feeling the effect of every drop, while I'd only seen him drink one glass, but he seemed as intoxicated as me. He hugged me close as we walked back to the car, his body shaking as much as mine.

Back in the car our shaking subsided and we shared a comfortable silence, enjoying the peace of the night around us, almost all of the other cars having gone. I lowered my window and took a deep breath of the sea air. The night was warm, but freshened by a cool breeze from the ocean. I ran my fingers through my hair and pushed it off my shoulders so it all fell down my back. I felt his hand touch it caressingly and smiled to myself. In the restaurant I'd noticed that, when I'd withdrawn my feet from his pants, they'd felt no dampness there and it occurred to me that he had probably not had a chance to cum since early that morning. I looked at him over my bare shoulder and saw, illumined in the lights from the restaurant, a look of longing in his pale eyes.

Teasingly, I said, "You know, I bet I could take over Rosalind's client base with not much trouble and no one would notice the difference," and I winked.

"You're far more fuckable than Roz," he said, leaning across for a kiss from which I pulled back in feigned shyness while inwardly loving his compliment. 

I bent forward in the seat, reached behind me and loosened the lace. Raising my bottom briefly I pulled the dress, my panties and my shoes all off in one quick, smooth movement that left me completely nude save the two items of jewellery he'd given me. I tossed the clothes over onto the back seat, then drank in his long look of desire. I shivered all over in anticipation, smiled, then turned back to the window. From where the car was parked, abutting a low wall, I saw that we were only a short distance from the beach which now completely obscured in the deep, dark blue of a summer night. I removed my necklace with its scintillating, silver pendant, then the dazzling, diamond ring, and carefully placed them on the back seat, slipping them into a fold of the dress. I climbed over the gear stick until I straddled him, felt him tenting sharply against my swollen pussy lips, sat back in his lap and shook my shoulders to make my tiny breasts quiver. He reached up to cup and knead them in his firm hands and he remarked that they'd grown. I closed my eyes, smiled, breathed out a long sigh, put my arms around him, leaned in close and said softly, "I want every drop of your milky white cum inside me," then softly kissed his ear.

I hopped off him quickly, opened the door, jumped from the car and over the wall. My feet immediately encountered the sensual feeling of fine sand, still warm from the heat of the day. I heard the car door slam and glanced over my shoulder to see him, silhouetted against a light from the restaurant. I knew I was now invisible to him, so I stood and waited, giggling at the sight of his black form starting after me, tearing at his clothes along the way. When he was almost upon me I yelped in mock fright, turned and dashed into the roaring darkness while the sounds of popping buttons followed me from behind. As I ran I loved the new feeling of my breasts bouncing up and down like jelly.

I'd not noticed there was a sudden slope and I lost my footing in the air. I tumbled, fell and rolled over and over until I was covered in sand, but completely unhurt. I continued running, laughing harder when I heard a curse as he fell foul of the same mistake I had.

When I reached the water, having easily outstripped him, I let out a louder yelp. It was quite cold, having cooled rapidly since sunset and, as it rushed over my feet and up my legs, my whole body thrilled and quivered from this startling, sudden sensation. My eyes, having adjusted to the dark, saw an expanse of milky foam reaching to the horizon where it met a curtain of scattered, sparkling light, our only illumination on this deserted beach. He came up beside me and I threw my arms around him, let him lift me high in the air and spin me like he had when I'd been a little child. It felt like we were the only people in the world, or the universe. He set me down, wrapped his strong arms about me and kissed me while I lifted a leg to caress his hard desire with the inside of my thigh. The waves were rolling in high and one knocked me off my feet, but he caught me easily and lifted me above the water. Both of us entirely soaked, panting from the run and then from being drenched by the sea, he carried me from the waves and laid me me gently down on dry sand. He was a broad and muscular shadow against the stars, his shoulders rising and falling with deep breaths that perfectly complimented the hissing of the tide. I dimly discerned a broad smile on his face and raised my hands to him, beckoning him and parting my legs wide as a warm rush of love gushed from me onto the sand. I now felt warmer after being pulled from the sudden chill of the water. He fell on me and we rolled together, wrapped in each other, each drawing heat from the other's body. Then, with him on top of me, we shared a long, deep kiss.

The heightened anticipation of that frozen moment was suddenly broken by the blare of a phone's ringtone. It was coming from somewhere behind me and, when I tilted my head back, I saw the bright flash of a colorful display just inches from me. "I believe in miracles!" it declared. I giggled, disentangled my arms from his and reached up, eventually finding the phone with my groping fingers. The display said 'Delia' and I told him who it was.

"Let her wait," he breathed into my ear and nuzzled my neck, tickling me and making me laugh. The phone soon stopped. We disengaged a little and I looked into the starlight reflected in his eyes. I ran my hand over the smooth muscles in his chest and was surprised to find that he was really panting hard. A short run shouldn't have tired him this much, not my Daddy who could go a whole night vigorously devoting all of his strength to protracted sex sessions.

I kissed him again, told him to lie back, and ran my hands all over his wet skin, teasing him, drawing all of his energy into his cock until it was standing proud and strong. I caressed him from base to glans with my fingertips, parted his legs and squatted between them, pushing his thighs wider apart and massaging him in the soft sack from where his seed was waiting to erupt. I gently drew down his foreskin to undress him, and touched my pouting lips to the exposed, pulsing crown. I then drew my lips down one side, feeling the single, smooth vein with my tongue, sucking in his precum, then massaging the whole shaft with my mouth as it throbbed fully into life. I heard his breathing, barely audible above the roar of the surf, become a little unsteady as his passion took hold. I leaned forward while continuing to pleasure him with my hand and asked him gently if he was OK. I felt him nod as I nuzzled my nose and mouth in his neck. I pressed and rubbed my wet body and hardened nipples into his. Again I replaced my hand with my mouth, kissing him up and down and nibbling him lightly at the crown, something I knew he really loved. He grew to his full length, twitching and leaking more precum which, along with the salty seawater with which it was mingled, I sucked up greedily. Then, with my lips around him, I bent down and let all of him enter me and his length ride over my tongue to the back of my throat. I pushed my mouth further and further down until the tip of my nose felt the thin stubble of his pubic hair. He squirmed and moaned while I hummed and wriggled my own body in anticipation.

I raised myself up, planted my knees in the sand on either side of him and squeezed his thighs between mine. I bent forwards, kissed him firmly on his open mouth and felt him nudge at the door to my love tunnel. We both cried out into the cool night-time air as I lowered myself until I sat comfortably on the top of his broad, muscled thighs and he was firmly clasped between my already quivering walls. He sat up, glided his hands across my back, then pulled me close, as close as we'd been when dancing, and bucked his hips upwards to meet my downward thrusts with perfect synchronisation. I cradled his head in my arms and raised my face to the stars, moaning and wailing as he grunted into my tits. I brought my feet forwards to change my position to a squat and raised myself a little to let him stab his cock upwards with a longer stroke until my vulva, stimulated by the friction of him pumping in and out, tightened like a vice around his thick girth and held him tightly for second before releasing him, only to begin a series of swift muscular spasms, alternately gripping him on his downstroke while releasing him as he thrust into me again. I skilfully managed to time the pumping of my hips with this convulsing gripping and ungripping, allowing me to milk him like this until he unloaded deep into me, ejaculating over and over up through my cervix into my innermost hollows. I cried and wailed while I clutched his body with my arms and his cock with my vagina walls. He fell back with me sprawled on top and we rolled over and over, wrapped tightly in each other, with him still buried deep in me, until we were both coated in sand.

It was only then I became aware that the phone had started again. It was somewhere behind us. In the throes of our passion we'd slipped down the slope, almost to the edge of the water. We kissed and cuddled for while until I realised something would have to be done about Granny before we continued. I jumped up, found the phone and rejected the call, but I couldn't find how to silence it. As I fumbled with it a thick arm grabbed me about my waist and dragged me back into the water. I screamed out, laughed hysterically and dropped the phone on the sand. He then dropped me into a wave and I lost my footing on the loose sand for a moment. My tummy lurched and I thought I was going to throw up. After finding my feet, I jumped up and pushed him playfully, but he stood there as hard as a statue, laughing quietly. I pushed and pressed him impotently, eventually resorting to slaps and even gentle punches, but I could do nothing save make him take a step back. He grabbed my arms and lifted me high into the air. I kicked out my legs, threw my head back and whooped with joy. He threw me upwards, just like he must have done when I was baby, and caught me easily. Again he took me away from the waves, up the slope a little way, fell on his knees between mine and began licking and sucking away at my puffy pussy lips.

Expertly he drew sighs, then whimpers and cries from deep inside my throat and trickles of love juice from between my thighs which he caressed. As my body shook with a giggle my pussy trembled against his mouth. Along with my lubricant I felt his thicker stickiness oozing from me, being drawn out by the tender flutterings of his tongue, and I think I secreted into his mouth some of this lingering ejaculate that had somehow managed to remain inside me despite my dunking in the ocean. I moaned, spread my thighs wide and stroked his hips with the wrinkled insteps of my sand-coated feet. This rocking motion aided his stimulation of me and I was soon cumming again, gushing my juices into his mouth like a river flowing into the sea.

Unable to wait any longer he raised himself and plunged all the way into me, right up to the hilt, with one thrust, pushing my buttocks hard into the soft sand. I wrapped my legs around him so that my heels dug into him while I gripped his shoulders and hung on tightly. He was riding me powerfully, holding nothing back, giving me everything he had. As the phone continued blaring and vibrating angrily beside us we wauled a duet of profound love to the stars above. I caressed his hips now with my hands, feeling the tense, powerful muscles rippling under his hot skin. After a while he leaned back a little and continued working away at me from a squatting position. He squeezed and kneaded my tits with both hands, making my nipples stiffen even more. I squirmed and writhed with joy as my Daddy fucked me athletically into another orgasm.

All this time the phone's ringtone had been repetitively declaring how much of a 'sexy thing' I was, yet I'd been blissfully unaware of it for most of the time, and when I finally did notice I merely giggled again and thought of Granny, angry and alone in our sitting room, unaware of how her call was triggering a ringtone of which she'd probably disapprove, prude that she was. Daddy kneeled, and lifted my hips to his, enabling him to impale me even more deeply. I arched my back so that I was supported just by my head and the tips of my toes as he gripped me firmly and roughly ground himself into me. I laughed, then gasped at the sensations his cock was giving me as he drove it deeper and deeper. Then he dropped me abruptly, pushed my legs back, folding me up, until my feet were pressed into the sand near my shoulders. He laid himself on the underside of my thighs and resumed pounding, his panting mouth inches from mine as he screwed me with the speed and energy of a powerful machine intent on nothing but giving my young body the maximum degree of pleasure he possibly could. I came again and my legs quaked against him as he pressed into me harder and harder. I felt like I was having a seizure and I think I stopped breathing for a second or two. As I came down from this heavenly high he laid himself down gently upon me, kissed my face and chest, letting me recover my breath, then turned me onto my front.

The noise of the phone suddenly penetrated through to my clouded consciousness once more, so I reached out for it. It was just at the limit of my grasp, but after some fumbling, hindered slightly by the bumps my body was continuing to receive, this time from behind, I managed to draw it to me and look at the display. It was indeed still Granny. Stifling giggles and whimpers I took the call, convinced, seeing as Daddy was otherwise too busy to switch it off, that this was the only way to get her to stop.

"Hello, Gran, uh, uuh, Granny!"

"Sweetheart?" She sounded pretty agitated. "Where are you?"

At least I could tell her that. "At the beach, Granny."

"What on earth are you doing there?" There was a pause while she waited for me to answer, something I found myself currently unable to do as my Daddy was executing an especially exquisite manoeuvre by twisting himself around inside me, widening me, drawing the root of his cock around my opening while the crown prodded my soft walls, first one side, then the other, making my vaginal muscles ripple around him in movements I had hitherto not imagined possible. "Are you jogging, or something?"

I laughed, then managed to recover enough of my breath to answer, "Yes, Granny. Ooh, yes! Yes!"

"Put your father on," she told me, irritably, "What can he be thinking, letting you run about at this hour? It's gone midnight!"

I raised the phone above my head and he took it from me with one hand while thumbing the entrance to my anus, making me grunt with desire. I heard his bored side of the conversation accompanied by a rising, tinny squeak as I arched my back and wailed. Eventually he sighed, paused in his screwing of me for just a moment, then resumed by starting a slow rhythm, letting his hips rise and fall steadily while quietly emitting a deep, deep moan. I saw the phone land in the sand many feet from us, falling like a shooting star from the sky. I raised myself on my hands and, despite the pressure from his strong body, managed to arch my back even more until, turning my face, I was able to touch his wide open lips with mine. Our tongues darted into each others' mouths like swallows into caves, then flicked out to leave drops of shared saliva on our lips. We greedily sipped from and sucked each others' tongues, and all the while the beat of my Daddy's fucking increased in speed and power. He grasped my upper arms, pulled them and bent me back almost painfully until my face tilted upwards. My glimpse of the starry dome above us was quickly eclipsed by his face which he pressed to mine again as he kissed my forehead and eyes, then ran his tongue up and down to lap at the tears on my cheeks. There was no discomfort in this position, only the most extreme pleasure that built and built between my legs like a steadily growing conflagration which soon tore through my belly and up through my chest until the flames erupted from my mouth in a screaming outcry of love. He was now so deep inside me his glans poked into my uterus.

Finally, I felt violent convulsions begin there, then shoot down his length into his pelvis to make him shudder against me. He poured more copious dollops of his love seed deep into me as the flames of my orgasm burned through my entire body, shaking me until I knew nothing but the pleasure his body gave me, and my deep love for him.

Suddenly, I felt his body tense and, with him still hard inside me, I gasped, amazed that he could possibly think of going again so soon. He groaned and I groaned back while slowly fading aftershocks continued to ripple through me. He fell on me like a dead weight and I fell forwards, crushed under him with my face pressed hard into the sand. I couldn't breathe and struggled to raise myself on my weak arms. I managed to turn my head until I could draw breath and tried to look up over my shoulder at him.

"Daddy?" He was still buried in me right up to the root. Unable to resist the pleasure this brought and loving the stimulation of his cock in my pussy, yet concerned by his lack of movement, I wriggled, alternately wishing for the sensation to continue while plagued by a mounting panic. "Daddy?" I said again, louder and, with all my remaining strength, I pushed myself upwards as hard as I could. I twisted myself out from under him and he fell beside me face down in the sand, unmoving. I grabbed his shoulders and, gasping with the exertion, rolled him onto his back. With my wet hair I wiped away the sand that had caked to his face.

"Daddy!" I cried, again and again with growing hysteria as he remained entirely motionless beside me. I felt his chest and found to my horror that his breathing had stopped. I shook him, but his head merely rolled back and forth like a ball on a string. I resorted to thumping his chest and screaming into his face but he was completely still. I looked around me in panic and heard nothing but the roar of the sea. A sliver of silver had appeared on the horizon and in the slowly increasing light of the moon I saw nothing but seemingly infinite stretches of sand in both directions. Suddenly I felt very alone.

The slope of the beach obscured the restaurant and car park. I stood, shaking, and saw his car all alone, lit by one remaining light from the corner of the building. I ran up the slope over our scattered clothes, reached the car park and dashed across it unmindful of the few cars passing on the road. I went all around the building, pounding on every door and window, hammering on the glass of the conservatory, peering in for brief moments before running to the next door and then the next. I screamed for anyone to come and help, but no one appeared.

As I started to run back to him, after screaming out my pain and frustration to the unheeding night, hoping that perhaps he'd revived in my absence, something angry immediately leapt up through my chest and shot from my mouth in a jet onto the tarmacadam. I fell on my knees, exhausted, but managed to pick myself up, wipe my mouth and stagger back to the beach. I hurriedly squatted down again beside him and began pounding his chest impotently, my terror growing inside me like an approaching hurricane. I looked at his face in the moonlight. He was staring vacantly up at the stars. I straddled him, bent forward to look him in the eyes, turned my cheek and waited for the caress of a breath from his open mouth that never came. His semen-slicked penis was flaccid against my belly, despite my touches. I breathed in, put my mouth on his and let out a long sigh which eventually became a cry of anguish that poured from me into him. I wrapped my arms and legs around him until my hands and feet were held tightly between him and the sand, crying continually with my face buried in the hollow of his neck.

Gradually, I became colder and colder but wouldn't, or couldn't move. My frantic, quavering breathing evened and slowed until I was as motionless as him, though I could not control my shivering. I still didn't move when I felt the approaching waves lapping at my feet. I waited for them to engulf us both, but they never did, and eventually they subsided, leaving me and my Daddy alone and still.

I don't remember sleeping, yet when I eventually felt hands on my arms, tugging and pulling me upwards, away from the now completely cold body of my Daddy, I felt like I'd emerged from the longest of dreams. The growing daylight made everything painfully real as I saw his pale form lying there, now surrounded by people in dark blue uniforms, while a sheet was placed around my shoulders and I was led away. With every faltering step my bare feet took on the wet sand I was being lead back to the world, away from my three month idyll in paradise, and I knew at that moment that, deep down inside me, something that had barely been given a chance at life had died.

Everyone tells me now that everything then had been wrong, that what I'd experienced with Daddy and Mommy could never be considered right by anyone, that my parents had behaved 'abominably' towards me, that their love for me had become perverted and corrupt.

I think of how much joy the three of us shared over that summer, how loved I had felt, how close we had been. There had been no coercion and I had wanted everything they had wanted, had blissfully consented to all their desires, happy to be loved and to love them back. People look on me now with sympathy, considering me someone damaged for life, and even Mommy tells me how sorry she is. She tries to convince me, from the other side of the thick glass, that those summer months had not all been as heavenly as I remembered. Maybe they had not always been for her, but for my Daddy and me, I knew that we had never been happier.

But I remember the three of us, writhing for hours on end in heavenly ecstasy, sharing everything, holding nothing back, just using our bodies to show each other the depths of our love. That protracted moment, that memory so full and deep, is with me forever. The ring and the necklace, which I always wear, help me remember. I close my eyes and feel by turns her tongue and his sweet, sweet cock in me, and I know how true it is when people say that your parents are always inside you.

Every night as I fall asleep, I finger the diamond and run my hand over the silver heart. I hear my Daddy sigh into my ear, "Forever," and, against my closed eyelids, I see his lovely face overcome with passion as my body melts under the heat of his eternal love until I am water.

And then he dives into me again and again.
And again...

Copyright © Irma Cerrutti 2017