First, she got
custody of Jeannie,
our four-year-old
daughter, I got one
day a month
visitation; she got
the house, I got the
mortgage payments;
she got the bank
account so that she
could provide for
our daughter; I lost
the
technical-writing
business I spent six
years building. To
top it, my
once-monthly visits
were often
"postponed" or
"forgotten" when my
wife felt that I
hadn't groveled
enough. Finally, two
years after the
divorce, during a
particularly ugly
confrontation with
her current
boyfriend on a
visitation weekend,
Bess looked me
straight in the eye
and told me that if
I darkened her door
again, she would
report that I had
molested Jenny
during visitation.
I talked to my
lawyer (a nice guy,
even when my money
ran out) and he said
there wasn't much I
could do without a
war chest of cash.
In our state even a
whisper of child
abuse was enough to
buy me a trip to the
Greybar hotel, until
I could prove that I
was innocent. I gave
up, moved to the
West Coast and
started over,
writing anything to
keep myself alive
and make child
support payments.
Hack SF, true
romance, soft porn,
lonely-hearts advice
columns, you name
it. After a couple
of years I started
free-lancing some
advertising copy
work for a local
agency. It was
steady money, and I
moved into a house
without cockroach
roommates. My lawyer
met my wife's lawyer
over racketball at
the club and I
started flying back
to visit my daughter
on her birthdays.
Some women came and
went in my life, but
after Bess I
couldn't trust any
of them.
All this time I
wrote my daughter
regularly. When I
had enough money
that so that I
didn't have to dodge
the landlord, I'd
send her small gifts
every couple of
weeks. There was
usually one good
reason a month to
send a card or
trinket to my
special girl and if
there wasn't, I'd
invent one. She
wrote back. At first
her letters were in
crayon, with
kindergarten
pictures of
stick-people, and
thank-you notes for
each gift. Her
artwork covered one
wall of the spare
bedroom that I used
as a home office. As
she grew her letters
became more
literate. Her
favorite gifts were
books and I sent her
the ones I had
enjoyed as a child:
"Alice in
Wonderland", "Jungle
Book", "The Hobbit",
"Treasure Island".
She rarely mentioned
her mother in her
letters or during
our once-yearly
meetings; I never
encouraged
resentment towards
Bess. But on her
tenth birthday, Bess
and I fought again,
Bess barred me from
further visits, and
Jeannie's letters
closed, "Please come
visit me, daddy, or
let me visit you. I
know you love me,
but I get REAL
LONELY."
As years went by, my
financial situation
improved. I made a
couple of smart
(lucky) investments,
and began to do
major accounts work
for the ad agency.
The agency was
contracted to do
some mud-slinging
ads for the 1982
governor's race and
bitterness seemed
easy to write. The
incumbent stayed in
office, but the
state party was
impressed by how my
ads had withered his
support among
undecided voters. I
was introduced to
some
movers-and-shakers
in state politics
and asked by the
state's party
secretary to do some
speech-writing for
some junior members
of the state house.
The speeches went
over well and sound
bites wound up on
the CBS Evening
News. I was caught
up in the machinery
of state politics. I
felt ambivalent
about my work. It
was fun to be an
'insider,' but the
more I wrote, the
weaker became my own
political views. I
had become a student
of Machiavelli.
Politics became an
drug that deadened
my ethical nerve
endings.
One day, early in
the summer of 1986,
I got a call from
Washington, D.C.,
from the
congresswoman of a
nearby district.
"We've heard your
work, John, and we
like it very much."
I gave the usual
thanks and asked
what I could do for
her. "The polls are
showing that Senator
B__ has lost a lot
of public confidence
with the news that
his company has been
dumping toxic waste.
The party thinks
this may be the time
to for an all-out
effort to unseat
him. I think it's
time for me to try
it. The national
committee suggested
I talk to you about
some speeches. You
know, really slam
him to the sidewalk
and see how high he
bounces."
I was flabbergasted.
This was a jump from
the state to the
national scene.
Senatorial races are
very profitable for
the right people. A
major jump in income
and prestige. Book
and consulting
contracts, even an
ambassadorship
cha-chaed in my
brain pan. "I am
very interested in
pursuing this," I
said "When can we
meet?" We set up a
get-acquainted
dinner with her
staff the next
Wednesday evening. I
gulped when I heard
the name of the
restaurant, but she
chuckled and spoke
those magic words:
"It's paid out of
campaign funds." It
was about to rain
soup and all I
needed was to bring
a bowl. A big bowl.
It was that
Wednesday morning,
as I was about to
leave to pick up my
best suit from the
cleaners, that I got
the call from my
ex-wife.
"Johnny, I've got
this wonderful
opportunity to go to
Barcelona, so you'll
have to take
Jeannie." Better and
better news, I
thought, I hadn't
seen my daughter in
four years.
"Sure. When and for
how long?"
"I don't know how
long, Carlos didn't
say." Great, I
thought, another
jerk. God knows how
these creeps have
affected my
daughter. Well, Bess
always wanted to
visit Europe. I
couldn't have
afforded it. If she
wanted to travel
there on her back,
that was none of my
business. "The
summer, surely, a
year, maybe.
Jeannie's flight is
today at noon."
"A year? That's
impossible, I'm
afraid. And today is
no go, I have an
important dinner
tonight..."
Her voice picked up
a nasty edge. "You
can meet your bimbos
some other time.
Your daughter needs
you. We're at the
airport now."
Well, that took a
lot of gall, calling
me at the last
minute. I kept my
voice calm and tried
to be reasonable.
"Look, Bess, I'll
pay the difference
in the ticket costs
for the delay. Just
put her on
tomorrow's flight."
"You don't
understand. We're
all at the airport.
Carlos's and my
plane for Barcelona
takes off an hour
after hers. You've
always whined that
you wanted more time
with her. She'll
land there in three
hours. Be there to
pick her up."
"But I've made
plans! It's too late
to cancel them!" And
that's where the
conversation went to
screams. Barcelona.
She waited until the
very last second
before telling me
anything. How could
she have known I
would cave in? She
knew. I knew. I
always caved in.
Shit.
After hanging up I
called the
congresswoman's
Washington office.
"I'm sorry," the
clerk's voice
trilled with unfelt
sympathy, "She's on
a flight back to her
home district and is
unavailable." Well
that killed that. No
way to cancel or
postpone the dinner.
I had better pick up
my suit.
I drove to the
cleaners, then got
on the freeway to
the airport, driving
on auto-pilot,
thinking, planning.
God, I didn't have
any clue about how
to raise a young
girl. She would be
approaching
womanhood and would
have all kinds of
questions and
problems for which I
had no answers and
no relatives to ask
advice. What had
living with my
ex-wife and her
endless succession
of boyfriends done
to her psyche? Where
could she stay? I
had a small
two-bedroom cottage,
but one bedroom I
had converted into
an office/library. I
would rough it on
the couch that
night, I decided,
and figure out
something else
tomorrow.
At the airport I
parked, ignored the
shuttle bus and
walked to the
terminal. Oddly, I
felt better and
better the closer
the time came.
Planning the
arrangements, I
remembered another
bedroom for Jeannie.
I remembered how
much fun I had
fixing up the
nursery for her when
Bess was pregnant.
The day seemed
brighter and my
steps lighter.
Things were turning
out for the best.
Jeannie was no
stranger; we had
exchanged letters
and confidences for
six years. In nearly
every letter I had
promised that some
day we would spend a
lot of time
together. That day
had just come a
little abruptly. By
the time I arrived
at the terminal, I
was eager for her
flight to be
announced.
So of course the
flight was delayed.
As time passed, I
realized that I had
only a vague idea of
what Jeannie looked
like. I opened my
wallet and looked at
the picture I
carried of her tenth
birthday party, the
last one we spent
together. Green
eyes, red mop of
hair. She was twelve
now and kids grow so
fast. She must have
changed--but how?
At last the video
display showed her
flight had landed
and a crush of
people stormed past
the security gate. I
didn't recognize any
of them. Then,
trailing uncertainly
a little behind, was
a young, red-headed,
stick-figure of a
girl in blue jeans
and a fisherman's
bulky knit sweater.
"Jeannie! Hey,
good-looking!"
"Daddy?" She started
to run, but caught
herself and walked
with all the dignity
a 12-year old can
muster. "Daddy!" We
hugged, and if I
have any concept of
heaven, it was there
in that hug. Her
eyes shone with
relief and joy.
After all the rage,
all the anxiety, all
that was left was
the humble truth.
"I'm so happy you
are here," I told
her. She had the
greenest eyes with
impossibly long
lashes and dimples
when she smiled. I
could get lost in
those eyes. "C'mon,
let's go get your
bags."
She bubbled over
with stories about
the flight, about
her mother, and
Carlos, the latest
boyfriend. I listed
with only half an
ear as I watched for
her bags, matched
the numbers of the
tag halves, and
loaded them onto one
of those rental
carts. I didn't seem
as though she could
have packed enough
clothes in those
bags for more that
an overnight stay.
"Jeannie, pardon me
for interrupting,
but do you have a
nice dress in your
bags?"
"Well, I've got a
dress for
emergencies," she
admitted, "but it's
not nice. It's last
year's and it's a
little small."
"Then I guess our
first stop is a
dress store. We've
got a big dinner
engagement tonight."
Jeannie was excited
both at the prospect
of shopping for a
new dress and at the
idea of a grown-up
dinner party. When I
told her that it was
going to be mostly
boring business, she
became even more
intrigued. I think
she wanted a glimpse
of how adults acted.
Jeannie, like all
kids that age, was
in a big hurry to
grow up.
At the store,
Jeannie tried on
dress after dress. I
waited patiently as
she paraded out in
dresses that were
too short, too long,
too little-girlish,
and too mature.
Finally she came out
in an
off-the-shoulder
green velvet gown
that set off her
green eyes. She was
a stunner and not
quite the stick
figure that I had
thought at first. I
could see that soon
she would fighting
off the boys with a
stick. "That dress,
sweetheart? That
dress makes you look
12 going on 29." She
looked down and
blushed, the color
spreading from her
shoulders to her
neck and face. She
raised her face and
her eyes met mine,
pleading without
words. I felt my
heart leap and my
insides get all
twisted up. "OK,
sweetheart, it's
yours."
We stopped at the
house just long
enough to drop her
bags and change
clothes. We arrived
at the restaurant
with bare minutes to
spare. As we walked
up the steps to the
restaurant Jeannie
seemed a little
hesitant. I squeezed
her arm and said,
"Buck up! Remember,
no matter how old
and rich they may
be, you're younger
and prettier!" She
rewarded me with
those dimples,
lifted her chin and
walked in on my arm
like British
royalty.
Dinner was a
resounding success.
The congresswoman
was charmed that I
had brought my
daughter. Jeannie
said little, but her
bright eyes tracked
every move and
verbal sally. When
asked questions, she
replied with a wit
and charm that
belied her 12 years.
As we stood to
leave, the
congresswoman's
chief-of-staff
smiled and said that
if she was
interested, he would
encourage her to
look into the
congressional page
program. She smiled
and thanked him, but
said that she had
just arrived in town
and it was a little
soon to be thinking
of leaving. He
turned to me and
said that he would
be back in town next
week to introduce me
to the consulting
firm that was going
to handle the
campaign.
Jeannie and I swept
into the cottage in
a euphoric rush. I
was on top of the
world. I scooped her
up in my arms and
impulsively kissed
her. Her eyes shone.
"We did it," She
said, "We showed
those Washington
bigwigs that
Lewistons rule!" She
pulled me close and
kissed me full on
the lips. I felt as
though my heart
would burst with
joy. Here was one of
the greatest nights
of my life and
instead of coming
home alone, I could
share it with the
one person in the
whole world who
really loved me.
As we stood there,
in each other's arms
I realized that the
glowing, fluttery
sensation in my
stomach had moved
lower. I was, in
fact, having an
erection. God! What
was wrong with me?
This was my
daughter, my own
flesh and blood! I
push away from her
awkwardly. Turning
to hide the shameful
state of my body.
"Uh, I've got to use
the bathroom. I'll
be back in a
minute."
I dodged into the
bathroom and locked
the door leaving
Jeannie standing
there looking
puzzled. I took a
couple of deep
breaths and tried to
calm down. I turned
on the cold water
tap and splashed my
face. Get a grip.
You're just excited,
just getting a
little carried away
by the moment.
Breathe in; breathe
out. Better. I
flushed the toilet,
turned off the tap,
dried my face and
hands and opened the
door.
As I re-entered the
living room, Jeannie
was making the couch
into a bed. "That's
very thoughtful,
Sweetheart. Thank
you. But I need my
firm pillow or I'll
get a crick in my
neck."
She came over to me
and put her arms
around my waist and
her head on my
shoulder. "I know
what you said
earlier, Daddy, but
I couldn't take away
your bed. I'll sleep
out here. I really
don't mind. I sleep
like a log."
"Well, if you're
sure you don't
mind?" She nodded.
"Well, I'm bushed."
I untangled myself
from her arms and
stepped back. "I'm
going to turn in."
She looked a little
crestfallen, as
though she wanted to
celebrate all night
long. "Hey,
Sweetheart, you
probably have
jet-lag and we've
got the all the time
in the world. I'm
looking forward to
spending a lot of
time getting to know
you." She rewarded
me again with those
dimples, nodded and
was caught unawares
by a yawn.
"I guess you're
right. Today was
busy with the flight
and the dinner. I'll
see you tomorrow.
Good night."
I went to my room,
undressed, and fell
asleep. But my sleep
was full of dreams
of Jeannie.
---Jeannie as a
naked little girl in
the bathtub. Jeannie
in the
green dress that
matched her eyes and
the dress became
iridescent
green scales and she
was a mermaid and
her breasts were
cold and
her eyes sea-green
and her hair
drifting and coiling
around her
pale blue face and
she was slippery in
my arms and her
nipples
gouged my chest and
her mouth was full
of sharp little
teeth and
she bit my shoulders
and belly and took
my small, flaccid
cock
into her mouth and
laughed.-------------------------------------
Chapter 2 -- Venus
Revealed
I woke with a start.
All my dreams came
back in a rush and
my face grew hot. I
looked at the clock.
6:03 a.m. My cock
was as stiff as a
rod and made a tent
of my bedclothes. My
testicles felt as if
I had been bronco
busting all night. I
couldn't go out to
meet my daughter
like this! I decided
that if I
masturbated, I would
better be able to
control my body the
rest of the morning.
I opened my bedroom
door a crack to see
if Jeannie was
awake. There was no
sound from the rest
of the house. I
stepped out into the
hall--still no
sound.
As I rounded the
corner into the
living room, I saw
Jeannie sprawled on
the couch, stone
asleep, finger in
her mouth, her
blankets all twisted
up. Poor kid on a
hard, lumpy couch in
a strange place. Why
had I let her talk
me into letting her
sleep out here? I
tugged on a corner
of the blanket to
straighten it out
and it slipped to
the floor. Her
nightie had twisted
up to her waist and
one of her knees was
raised against the
couch back, exposing
her genitals. I
stood frozen for a
moment as my
flagging erection
rehardened. I was
hypnotized by what I
saw. I knelt and
shook her shoulder
gently. "Jeannie,
Jeannie, honey. Are
you asleep?" her
breathing stayed
slow and steady. I
could see her pulse
in her neck. I
placed my hand over
her heart and felt
the steady lub-dub,
lub-dub of her life.
My hand felt the
thinness of the
cotton, the
smoothness of her
skin and the point
of her nipple.
I felt a terrible
sense of wrongness,
mixed with a
powerful attraction.
I had never seen a
woman so young, so
vulnerable. I would
never see this
again. Trembling, I
leaned forward and
brushed her cheek
with my lips. Her
skin was as soft as
an infant's. There
was a soft down on
her neck. She
smelled, salty,
slightly spicy, like
the breeze blown
from some exotic
oriental bazaar. I
rocked back on my
heels and looked at
the wrinkled inner
lips of her
genitals. No pubic
hair camouflaged
their beauty. I
looked up and saw
the golden down on
the swell of her
belly. I looked at
my own belly and
realized that I had
better get back to
my room and do what
I had intended; my
pajama bottoms were
getting soaked by my
leaky cock.
I tucked the
blankets around her
and tiptoed to my
room. Dropping my
pajama bottoms, I
picked up a bottle
of hand lotion. I
lay back on my bed,
closed my eyes and
let images come
unbidden to mind.
Bess... Jenney's
mother... the best
sex in my life was
with her... Bess was
a harpy, but her ass
was to die for...
Bess's hazel eyes...
Jeannie's eyes...
Jeannie's legs
akimbo... Jeannie's
little girl cunt,
soft and
shriveled... my hot
cock parting the
soft lips and
burying itself in
her flesh... her
scream of
pleasure... my
moans...
After five minutes
of delicious delay,
my heart thudded in
my chest, my belly
and thighs tensed,
and I came as I have
rarely come, soaking
my pajama tops to
match my bottoms. As
I spun back down to
earth I suddenly
wondered; had I
really moaned or was
that just in my
imagination? I held
my breath,
listening. No sound.
The apartment was as
quiet as before. I
pulled the
bedclothes over me
and dozed off.
When I woke I heard
the shower running.
I looked at the
clock. 7:21 am. I
swung my legs over
the side of the bed
and feet landed
right on my cold,
damp pajama bottoms.
A shiver ran up my
spine and I
hurriedly pulled off
my tops. I gathered
them up and stuffed
them under the bed
blankets. Got to
remember to do the
laundry today. I
threw on some sweat
pants and a shirt
and went out to face
the day. I made
coffee first. As I
turned on the cold
water to fill the
carafe, I heard a
screech from the
shower. "Sorry!" I
yelled. I was going
to have to get used
to living with
someone again. While
the coffee dripped,
I sat on the couch
(now with its
bedclothes put away,
returned to its
daytime function)
and watched the
morning news shows.
Senator B was
denying he had any
knowledge of what
his company was
doing, which made
him look less venial
but more stupid. I
made a few mental
notes, catching the
his characteristic
phrasing, the better
to mock it.
I heard, in the back
of my mind, the
shower stop and the
bathroom door open.
"'Morning!" I said
as I turned to greet
my daughter. I
froze. Jeannie stood
there, drying
herself off, naked
as the day she was
born. Her body was
only sporadically
hidden as she chafed
her skin with the
towel. The figure
that I had guessed
at in the green
dress was now
displayed. Her slim
waist swelled just
slightly at her
hips. Her breasts
were just a swelling
of her nipples,
beaded with water,
now erect from the
cool morning air.
"Wow, did that
shower feel good! I
could eat a dozen
pancakes! Do you
have any pancake
mix? I could make
some from scratch.
What's wrong?"
"N-nothing,
sweetheart. I'm just
a little slow before
I get my c-coffee."
She rummaged through
her bags and pulled
on an oversized
sweatshirt that hung
halfway to her
knees. "There! Now
we match. Let's get
breakfast."
Chapter 3 -- Dreams
Revealed
The next few days I
managed to shove
aside my indecent
thoughts and Jeannie
and became like old
friends meeting for
the first time. It
felt like that old
legend about ancient
souls that meet
again and again in
successive lives. We
went to a chinese
restaurant for lunch
and Jeannie ordered
for both of us. "How
did you know that I
loved General Tso's
chicken?" I asked.
"You told me in a
letter last year."
We stopped for ice
cream cones I
ordered her Mighty
Mocha "How did you
know?" she asked.
"You've been a
chocoholic since you
were a baby." And so
it went. I watched
Jeannie closely when
she talked. I could
see Bess in the way
she tossed her head,
the way she used her
hands when she
spoke. I could see
me in the shape of
her brow and the
line of her jaw. I
felt an attraction,
like cables wrapped
around my heart,
squeezing it,
pulling me towards
her. She had always
been in the
background of my
day-to-day life, but
now she was the Sun
and I had just
discovered the
Copernican system.
One afternoon, a
week later, we went
to the zoo. Jeannie
had found the sexual
antics of the lemurs
hilarious. As we
ambled down a quiet
path, I thought it a
good time to broach
a delicate subject.
"Ah -- Jen, what do
you know about boys?
I mean, about boys
and girls...
together?" I felt so
awkward!
"You mean like
having babies? They
showed us some films
in the health class
at school -- stupid
stuff, really. Films
that were made 15
years ago with
people wearing the
silliest clothes.
Another one on
giving birth --
yetch! And there was
a class on girls
having monthlies,
don't worry, Daddy,
you won't have to
explain that."
Whew. One worry
down. 12 million to
go. "Well, yes,
that. But what about
your mom? Did she
ever have a talk
with you?"
Jeannie stopped,
glanced up and down
the path to ensure
we were alone, then
fixed me with her
eyes. "Now Daddy,
I'm going to tell
you a secret. A big
secret. And you have
to promise me that
you won't get upset
and make a scene." I
hastily agreed, but
she kept those green
jewels fixed on me
until I promised
solemnly that I
would keep my cool.
"Mom tried several
times to talk to me.
But I figure that
anyone who goes
through as many men
as she does doesn't
have much to say to
anyone about how to
have a permanent
relationship."
That's my girl, I
thought. Why did she
think that would
upset me?
"Now as far as how
people do it (and
don't get upset --
remember, you
promised) it was
easy to peek and
watch her and her
boyfriends."
"Jeannie!" I
blurted. In a
crisis, my mouth
pushes my brain
aside and takes
over. "What kind of
thing is that for
a..."
"Daddy!" she cried,
"You promised!" Her
eyes were full of
hurt.
I stopped, bit back
what I was going to
say, and mentally
kicked myself. The
poor kid grows up
with a mom that
screws like a mink
and I blame her for
being curious.
"You're right,
Honey. I just
reacted without
thinking." I paused
as a group of small
kids came tearing
down the path and
disappeared around
the bend. "Go ahead.
I promise I won't
make a scene."
But Jeannie would
not continue, but
started walking and
said that she would
wait "'til later."
That evening, as we
drove home, I tried
to thaw the chill
between us and asked
Jeannie if she
wanted to pick up a
videotape. "Daddy,
we've only spent
seven days together
and you want to
stare at some old
movie? Besides, we
still have to finish
our talk about Mom."
When we got home,
neither of us were
very hungry, so I
suggested cold cuts
and veggies. As I
chopped some
vegetables, Jeannie
flipped through my
tape collection. I
heard her load the
deck and then the
frosty, cerebral
sounds of the Modern
Jazz Quartet floated
into the kitchen. I
brought the tray
into the living room
and sat by Jeannie
on the couch. "I've
got all the MJQ
albums, so no points
for surprise. But
thanks, that's just
what I wanted to
hear right now." She
smiled with her
mouth, but it never
reached her eyes.
"Can we finish our
talk?"
Jeannie picked up a
celery stick, dipped
it into the yogurt
and regarded it
thoughtfully.
"What's to say? I
woke up one night
and was scared by
the noise of people
fighting. I snuck
down the hall and
peeked in her
bedroom. Gunter was
her boyfriend then.
Gunter was on top of
her. I thought that
he was beating her
up, so I hid in my
closet 'till I fell
asleep.
"The next morning
Mom found me there
and asked me what
happened. I told her
how I was scared and
she laughed. She
told me that what I
saw was what
grown-ups do for
fun. I thought that
was the biggest lie
I had ever heard. So
I waited, and the
next time I heard
the grunting I snuck
down the hall again
and peeked in the
door. This time Mom
was on top bouncing
up and down with a
big smile on her
face so I could see
that she wasn't
being hurt. I went
back to bed and
cried until I went
to sleep."
"Why did you cry?" I
asked.
"I don't know. I
just did. I cried
six months later
when Gunter left for
good, though I
really didn't like
him at all. I just
crawled into my bed
and cried." My heart
ached for that
little girl, alone
in her bed. She
dropped the celery
into the dip and her
voice grew small.
"That's when I
started having the
nightmares."
"What nightmares,
Honey?"
"They're all
different and all
the same. I'm
walking down the
hall in our house,
Mom's house, I mean,
and I'm trying to
find the front door
because I know that
if I find it and
open it, you'll be
there to take me
with you and the sun
will shine. But in
the house it's night
and I can hear Mom
and her boyfriend
grunting and
moaning. I can't
tell which door is
the front door and
I'm afraid to open
any of the doors
until I'm sure.
Because if open the
wrong one, it might
be the door Mom is
behind."
"But what's so scary
about Mom?" I
mentally gritted my
teeth. "She loves
you, you know."
"Oh, I know she
does. As much as she
can." Her voice got
even smaller and she
watched her hands
twisting like
wounded animals in
her lap. "What
scares me is that I
know that I liked to
watch them. I got
excited. I would
pull down my panties
and touch myself,
you know, down
there."
"Baby! Don't let
that plague you.
Everybody 'touches
themselves'."
She spoke to me as
if I were a slow
child. "If I said,
'It's OK for me to
smoke, everybody
does it.'" Would
that make it OK?"
I sighed, "You're
right, but it's not
just that, Sweet.
Touching yourself is
just a part of
finding out about
yourself. I doesn't
hurt you, it doesn't
hurt anyone, and
it's nobody's damn
business but your
own."
She looked up at me
and her emerald eyes
brimmed with tears.
"Daddy, the reason
that I don't like
it, is that I hate
Gunter and Rob and
Bill and Carlos and
all of them! I don't
want to think about
them when I touch
myself; I want to
think of you! But
you were gone so
long and I didn't
know if you really
meant what you said
in your letters but
I kept rereading
them and hoping and
then in the airport
Mom was yelling on
the phone and I
thought that you
really didn't want
me and that maybe I
did something awful
when I was little
that I can't
remember and if I
did I'm SORRY Daddy.
I'm sorry and I
promise I'll be good
and I'll never do it
again if you'll just
tell me what it
was..."
She broke down in
big wracking sobs. I
slid next to her on
the couch and took
her in my arms. She
put her head against
my chest and let the
tears pour. I rocked
back and forth
crooning, "You
didn't do anything,
wrong baby, you're
just perfect. I love
you, Jeannie. Daddy
loves you. It's OK
to cry, baby,
Daddy's here." For
five or six minutes
I rocked and crooned
while her sobs
turned into gulping
gasps for air and
finally into quiet,
regular breathing.
She looked up at me
again and both our
eyes were swimming
in tears.
"Do you think I'm
awful and hate me
now, Daddy?"
"I think that you
are the most
wonderful person in
the world, Jeannie.
You have completely
stolen my heart."
"Do you really,
really, love me
Daddy?"
"Really, truly
Jeannie. More than I
know how to tell
you."
She reached up and
grabbed my head,
pulling my face down
to hers. Her lips
met mine and every
scrap of good sense
I owned went on
vacation to Bermuda.
Her lips were so
soft, so sweet! My
ears roared. I
pressed my tongue
gently against those
lips. She parted
them and I tasted
her mouth. Choirs
sang, angels wept.
We kissed for
several minutes, my
arms around her, my
hand stroking her
thigh, slipping up
under her blouse. We
broke for air and a
much belated warning
bell began clanging
in my head. I looked
down in confusion,
took her hands from
around my neck and
moved away from her
on the couch. She
grabbed my chin
looked me in the
eye. "Daddy, I don't
want this to stop."
I gulped. I tried to
think. Her face
seemed surrounded by
a golden nimbus.
"But Baby, this
isn't right!"
"I doesn't hurt me,
it doesn't hurt you,
it doesn't hurt
anyone, and it's
nobody's damn
business but our
own. If you don't
really love me
Daddy, then say so
now, and I'll leave
right now and you'll
never have to think
about me again."
"Baby, of course I
love you!"
Jeannie stood up and
pulled her top off.
Her arms were
covered with
gooseflesh and her
nipples were
starting to harden.
She pushed off the
jeans she was
wearing, followed by
her panties. "Am I
ugly?" she asked.
Her slim body stood
before me. She was a
bud, just on the
verge of bloom. Her
thighs, right before
my eyes, curved in
to the small mound
of her sex, the lips
of her young cunny
exposed in a way
that seemed more
that mere nudity. My
hands cupped her ass
ad I buried my face
in her belly.
"Jeannie, you are
the prettiest girl
I've ever known.
Honest."
She shivered. "Could
we go into your
bedroom? I'm cold
out here." We left
the vegetables and
dip to spoil and
went to my room.
Jeannie climbed
right into the
sheets. I started to
undress, then
stopped to turn out
the lights.
"Don't, please." She
said.
"Honey, I'm not a
young hunk. I've got
quite a few more
miles on my chassis
that Carlos." I
pulled off my shoes
and shirt.
"But it's you that I
love, Daddy. I want
to see what I saw
the first morning."
"Wh-what do you
m-mean, the first
morning?" I
stuttered, my pants
and cock both at
half-mast.
"I woke up and heard
moaning. I got up
and crept down the
hall and peeked in
your door. I saw you
touching yourself.
All alone. I so much
wanted to come to
you then, but I knew
I had to ask you
first. I had to know
that you really,
truly loved me."
I dropped my shorts
and let her look at
me, the body that
seemed to resist
workouts at the gym:
my hairy legs, my
slight pot gut, my
cock, then I slid
between the sheets
myself.
Chapter 4 -- The
Storm Breaks
I lay on my back and
pulled my little
sweetheart to me.
She sighed and lay
her head upon my
chest. "This is what
was waiting for me
outside the front
door in my dreams."
She said, "Promise
me that you will
always love me and
never send me away
from you."
"I promise Sweet, I
promise. You have to
promise that you
will never tell
anyone of what we're
doing. Your mom
would send me to
jail." How ironic!
After all those
accusations Bess
made!
"Daddy, I could
never turn on you!
I'm not going to be
like Mom when I grow
up. I'm not like her
now!"
"No, you're not.
Come give me a
kiss."
Jeannie raised
herself on her arms
and hung her head
over me. Her skin
was flawless; her
hair made a private
chamber that held
only our faces. Her
eyes...I lost myself
in her eyes as they
grew bigger and
bigger and we were
kissing, deeply and
slowly. I put one
hand lightly on the
back of her neck and
the other on the
cheek of her ass.
She squirmed slowly
against me as we
kissed. After what
seemed like hours
she lifted her head.
"Wow." She gasped,
"That's like all the
dreams in the world
coming true."
"That's just the
start, little girl."
I lay her on her
back and moved so
that I lay beside
her. I bent my head
down and kissed her
neck and shoulders,
nipping every so
often. She would
jump at every nip,
and then shiver and
relax. I stroked her
belly with my hand
while my mouth moved
from her shoulders
to the hollow of her
neck. My mouth moved
up and down her neck
from the hollow, to
her chin, up her jaw
to her ear, down her
neck to her
shoulder, never
rushing. She ran her
fingers through the
short hair on the
back of my head.
Her skin now had the
salt taste of sweat
and she smelled of
that exotic bazaar.
Her belly shifted to
push against my
hand; I moved my
hand down between
her legs, feeling
her bare little
cunny. She gasped,
then said, "Do it
Daddy, don't stop."
I kissed slowly down
to her left breast.
She arched her back
crushing her swollen
nipple into my
mouth. I ran my
tongue around it,
sucking and pulling
back until it popped
free from my mouth.
I continued kissing
down the length of
her belly, feeling
with my lips the
downy soft hair that
I had seen that
first morning.
I moved my head
between her legs. I
was surprised, for
she had three pubic
hairs at the bottom
of her cunny. The
lips were wet and
hung loose. I bent
down and began to
run my tongue
lightly up and down
those sweet lips. I
had a bigger
surprise; Jeannie's
clitoris was at
least a half-inch
long. It looked like
a little penis. I
took the clit
between my lips and
gently flicked it
with my tongue.
Jeannie groaned and
grabbed my head,
pulling it down to
her sex while
thrusting up with
her hips. I sucked
both lips into my
mouth along with her
clit and plunged my
tongue into her.
Jeannie grabbed a
pillow and hugged it
to her breasts. Her
moans became a
chant, "Yes Daddy,
you do love me, I'm
the very best girl
and I'll be
everything you want
because I love you
and you wanted me
and waited for me
and I came to you
and you were there
and now you're here
and it's so good and
I...I...I..."
Her hips bucked and
her little cunny
spasmed and pulsed.
She rocked back and
forth moaning
"Daddy, Daddy,
Daddy..." Slowly,
she went limp.
As I climbed up next
to her, she grabbed
me and started
weeping softly. "Oh
Daddy hold me, hold
me, hold me." I held
her until her tears
slowed. "Daddy, that
was...I don't know!
I don't have words!
Is it that good for
you?"
I pulled back and
let her see my cock,
now three-quarters
erect. "It will be
when you please me!"
"Oh Daddy, show me
how!" She rolled on
her back and lifted
her legs as I
supposed she had
seen her mother do.
I knelt between her
legs and placed the
head of my hardening
cock between her
puffy, wet cunny
lips. Then I moved
it slowly up and
down the lips,
smearing them with
both our wetness.
She shuddered when
the spongy head
rubbed against her
huge clit. After a
couple of minute of
this, I positioned
myself at her
opening and pushed
very slowly. The
head sank into her
and I felt the ring
muscles of her cunny
grab me as my head
ridge slipped past.
"Ah..Ahh, " she
moaned in
discomfort. I
stopped pushing,
placed a moistened
finger beside her
clit and gently
flicked back and
forth.
The response was
dramatic. Her vagina
opened like a mouth
and swallowed a
quarter of my cock.
Jeannie's eyes
seemed glazed,
unfocused. Her
breath came in
gasps. I pushed
gently until I felt
the hard nub of her
cervix against the
head of my cock. I
was only halfway in.
I pulled slowly out;
Jeannie's mouth made
an "o" but no sound
came out. I pushed
again and her eyes
rolled up in her
head. I hoped she
was enjoying it,
because otherwise
she was having some
kind of fit.
Then I felt her
cunny grab my cock
in the pulse of
orgasm. I pushed
gently one last time
and felt myself
explode in her,
splashing her hidden
places with my come.
Jeannie lay quietly
underneath me. I
slowly pulled myself
out of her, lay down
next to her, pulled
the bedclothes over
us and turned out
the light. I fell
asleep and again, I
dreamed.
---I was swimming in
the sea, the green
tropic sea with a
breeze
carrying the spicy
smell of the
Indies... Jeannie
was a mermaid...
I dived down through
the green depths of
Jeannie's eyes and
between her legs and
her bare little-girl
cunny and the three
red hairs were alive
like anemones,
wrapping around my
legs
and pulling me into
her cunny and her
clit was an erect
penis
and the anemone
spread my legs and I
took it into me and
I
was on my back and
Bess/Jeannie was
above me and was
fucking
me with her
penis/clit and I
came and came and
came... -----------
Chapter 5 -- Comes
the Dawn
I was muzzy,
half-awake,
wondering what was
tangled in my legs.
My foggy brain
realized it was a
woman's legs and I
pulled her to me,
pressing my growing
erection against her
slim ass. The woman
pushed her ass back
and drove my cock
into the valley of
her ass cheeks. I
groaned with
pleasure. The
woman's voice
murmured, "Daddy,"
and I came bolt
awake. The events of
the previous night
flooded my brain and
my heart began to
hammer.
Was I nuts? Was I a
pervert? If the
slightest hint of
this came out, not
only would it ruin
my chances in
politics, but Bess
would see me thrown
into the deepest,
darkest prison in
the western
hemisphere. No,
somehow she would go
on the 'Donahue'
show, display my
picture, tell what I
had done and have me
thrown into a
Turkish prison, and
ensure that I was
never released.
It seemed to be my
fate, my doom, that
I continually be led
around by my dick.
First Bess and now
Jeannie. Well, no
more! I was master
of my fate and the
captain of my penis!
I was getting out of
this bed, putting my
pants on...
"Daddy?" Jeannie
stirred in my arms.
"Come give me a
good-morning kiss."
She turned to face
me, her satiny
thighs nestled up
against mine. She
peered through her
tousled hair and
found my lips with
hers. My cock
declared mutiny
against its captain
and poked her soft
belly. She pulled
back and smiled a
warm, knowing smile.
"Already? You are so
strong! I'm a little
sore this morning."
My heart jumped.
"Oh, Baby! Did I
hurt you?"
She smiled. "No,
Daddy, I'm just a
little stiff." The
smile grew
mischievous. "I can
tell that you are,
too. But give me a
few minutes to
shower and see how I
feel."
With that she
slipped out of the
bed and across the
hall into the
bathroom. I heard
the sink running,
then the toilet
flush and the shower
start. My mind
played with a
picture of the soap
suds running down
the crack of her ass
and my cock got
rather sore. I
looked down at my
offending member.
"Well, Stanley, this
is another fine mess
you've gotten us
into." My cock
remained silent, the
jerk.
I climbed out of bed
and pulled on my old
bathrobe. I stumped
out to the kitchen
and filled the
coffee carafe with
cold water. There
was a scream from
the shower. It was
taking me longer
than I thought to
get used to living
with another person.
I started the coffee
brewing and went out
to wait on the
living room couch. I
started watching the
morning news. A
sound bite from
C-SPAN showed the
congresswoman was
giving Senator B---
pure hell from the
House floor. It was
a kick to hear my
speech delivered by
a fiery orator. She
really made those
words hers. It
sounded as if she
believed them.
Hands covered my
eyes. "Guess who?" a
sweet voice asked.
"Three guesses."
"Ummmm... Is it
Susan from the
agency? No? How
about Karen from the
health club? No, I
know. It's that sexy
little Jeannie
Lewiston with the
big green eyes." I
grabbed her arms and
pulled her onto my
lap. She was wrapped
in one of my big
Turkish towels, her
hair blown dry and
floating like a halo
around her head.
"How are you
Sweetheart?"
"I'm fine. Susan
from the agency? Do
you think she's
pretty?"
"Sure," I said, "But
I'm not interested
in her and she's not
interested in me.
We're just
colleagues."
"That's what you
think." Jeannie said
slyly. "Monday when
I went with you to
the office and you
had that meeting
with Bob, the
partner? Susan got
me in her office and
tried to pump me for
information about
you. What you liked
and didn't like, why
you didn't seem to
chase women. I think
that she thought you
were a cold fish or
maybe gay. When she
saw you had a
daughter and that
you could act human,
she wanted to know
all about you. I
think she's been
after you for a long
time, you just never
noticed."
I was pleasantly
surprised. Susan was
a very attractive
woman, two years
older than me, that
I admired for her
wit and talent. Why
is it that I had
never thought of her
romantically before?
"Hey!" Jeannie said,
"Get that look off
your face! You've
got a girlfriend!" I
jumped back to the
present, to this
sweet armful of
love, and a lot of
things became clear.
"Jeannie, you know I
love you, and last
night was and will
be one of the
greatest experiences
of my life, but
Baby, we can't go
on."
I could see her
settle herself into
an entrenched
position in her
mind. "Why not?" she
challenged.
This time my words
came easily, clear
and certain.
"Because I don't
want you to having
to live a lie about
the central
relationship in your
life. Sweetheart, I
love you. I'll
always be here for
you. But you are
just beginning a
part of your life
that I am halfway
through. You have a
lot of growing up to
do before you decide
on that special
someone that you
want to spend your
life with. Dads are
for the first part
of your life. You
have to, you get to
pick someone else
for the rest of it."
Her eyes softened,
but did not give up.
"But I don't want to
be with some pimply
teen-ager!"
"Sweetheart, they
aren't going to stay
teenagers forever.
Soon you'll turn
around and there
will be just the
kind of guy you are
looking for. It
doesn't have to be
today, or even ten
years from now. Just
keep looking inside
your own heart and
inside the hearts of
those around you.
Remember, when
Grandma and Grandpa
Lewiston met, she
was 14 and he was
20. They married two
years later."
Her eyes glistened
with unshed tears.
"Does this mean you
want to get rid of
me for Susan?"
"Baby! No!" I hugged
her close to me.
"You and me are very
special. We have
something that most
people can't
understand. I'll
always be here for
you; I'll always be
in love with you. We
just can't live in a
make-believe world."
I pulled back and
looked into those
bewitching green
eyes. "Some things
last all our lives,
like my being your
father; some things
last only for a
while and we have to
make the most of
them." I pulled open
her towel and gazed
hungrily at her slim
body. "And while we
have this time
together, there are
a LOT of things I
want to teach you,
if you want to learn
from me."
I pulled the towel,
bringing her belly
to my lips and
tickling her with my
tongue. She giggled
and screamed and
pushed away. Her
eyes danced. "OK,
Daddy. For as long
as it lasts, I want
to learn everything
about men that
you'll teach me.
"And I'll always be
Daddy's girl."
Epilogue -- All
Things Must Pass
Five years have
passed since Jeannie
came to live with
me. She's now a
beautiful young
woman of 17, and
leaves for college
next fall. I've put
all my writing
projects on hold and
we are spending one
last golden summer
together. Time races
by for fathers and
daughters and for
two people in love.
It's going to be
very hard to say
goodbye. Because it
must be goodbye.
Jeannie is leaving
home and however
often she returns
and however long she
stays, everything
will be changed. And
that's the hardest
lesson of all.
Jeannie did want to
learn from me, but
most of what we
learned from each
other was simple
trust. She had grown
up with a
manipulative mother,
her mother's stream
of boyfriends and a
father who wasn't
there. I had been an
only child, and
inconsiderate
husband and an
embittered, absentee
father.
Jeannie was not
completely honest
with me at first,
though knowing how
she had been raised
I cannot blame her.
She told me the
truth a year later.
I wondered about her
easy introduction to
sex. I mean, I think
I am great (don't we
all?) but it all
happened just a
little too easily.
It turned out that I
was not the first.
One year before she
came to live with
me, my ex-wife's
latest boyfriend,
Carlos, had caught
Jeannie peeking in
the bedroom door
while he screwed my
wife. Later he
bullied her into
"playing some
games." Poor Jeannie
didn't know what to
do, so she went
along with him. She
tried to tell her
mom, but Bess would
hear no evil of
Carlos. After a few
months, Jeannie came
across some old
letters of mine to
Bess and discovered
that it was the
threat of falsely
accusing me of
molesting that had
sent me away.
Jeannie knew that
Carlos was planning
to take them to his
family home in
Spain. Jeannie
waited until she,
Bess, and Carlos had
packed, then
announced that she
was calling the
state's child
welfare department
and reporting that
she was being
kidnapped by a
'pederast'. She got
the word wrong, but
she had adults
figured out. Sending
Jeannie to me must
have seemed an ideal
solution. Bess was
too frightened to
refuse. She never
returned home, but
married Carlos and
lived in Spain. I
wonder if she ever
had children and if
they could ever
trust each other.
When Jeannie
arrived, she was
afraid that I didn't
want her and would
send her away, so,
she used what tools
she had to snag and
keep me. When she
told me this story
we both cried for an
hour, thinking of
all the pain that we
risked when we both
loved each other so
much.
Jeannie says that
she had a great time
at school. She got
top grades, worked
on the school
newspaper, yearbook,
literary magazine,
and won a journalism
scholarship to a
prestigious college.
She dated some
(mostly with college
guys) and I never
got jealous. (OK, I
did get a little
jealous, but I
understand that all
dads do; it goes
with the territory.)
She had sex with one
of her college guys,
and later with one
of her girlfriends
(which is a story in
itself) but nothing
permanent developed.
What did I learn? I
learned from Jeannie
that it's OK to
love. It's even OK
to love someone who
doesn't love you
back. I can take a
risk on people now
because I know
someone has loved
me. One of the
results has been
that I started
dating Susan from
the agency. We had a
sweet time together,
but we parted
friends after two
years. We had
satisfied our
curiosity about each
other and discovered
that we were not the
ideal match. But the
stone wall around my
heart had been
broken and I could
dare to love other
women.
Jeannie approved all
my dates, and when
women stayed the
night I would
sometimes see my
bedroom door
silently open a
crack and I'd moan
just a little
louder. |
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