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Daddy Does It Best ....(97k)    by Michael Schumann

DADDY'S HUNGRY DAUGHTER!

"Oh," Dianne gasped, "don't shoot off in me, please!"

I was just on the verge of it, but I ceased humping. "What's wrong, baby?" I asked.

She twisted around and lay with her head near my crotch. "Please," she said, "let me blow you the rest of the way off." The plea in her voice was one that I couldn't refuse, so I took hold of her head and guided it to my thrusting shaft.

One last yank on my straining, ready rod, and sticky white cream flew into her waiting throat. I fell back, depleted.

A hand reached down to pat my belly. She said: "You get some rest now, Daddy."

CHAPTER ONE

I parked the Mercedes in front of the large tasteful Colonial house atop the hill. Tom Turner had really chosen a property with a beautiful view. From the white columned front porch you could see the whole city spread out below. The vista never failed to impress me.

Of the many times I had visited the Turner house this had to be the saddest. Tom and I had been friends for years. We were roommates and fraternity brothers in college; he had been a client of my law firm; and we belonged to many of the same clubs and organizations in town. Of course that was all before I gave up my practice in Richvale and moved to New York to become a partner in one of those old, established law firms. We hadn't seen much of one another in the last four years.

Tom's wife Peggy and I were also old friends. She and Tom and I had all met at college the first week of our freshman year, and both Tom and I had dated her before she finally accepted his proposal of marriage. I don't think Tom ever knew that it was I who had gotten her cherry on a wild date during college, or that during the first several years of their marriage I bad fucked his lovely wife at least three times a week, barring only the last few months she was pregnant with their only child Dianna.

Because we were all so close it came as a real shock to me when I heard that Tom and Peggy had divorced after eighteen years of marriage. It was as if the American Bar Association had suddenly endorsed jury-tampering. I wanted to come back home and talk to Tom and Peggy, but my New York firm had so much business going that only now, four months after the final decree had been granted, was I able to get away and make my visit. Well, I thought, better late than never.

I tinned from contemplating the view of the city and rang the doorbell. After a long time I heard footsteps inside and I saw the handle of the door turn. But instead of the uniformed maid I expected to greet me, I found myself looking into the heavy-lidded eyes of a tall young girl. Auburn-haired and freckled, she was wearing the uniform of the hip young rich, a work shirt, faded and frayed, tied up in front to leave bare her delightfully flat, girlish belly, and a pair of blue jeans, equally faded and frayed, that fit her tight as skin from waist to knees and billowed in bellbottoms from knees to feet.

"Uncle John!" she screamed and threw herself against me, planting a hot wet kiss on my mouth and pressing two round, warm breasts into the front of my jacket.

"Dianna," I said, taking her by the hands while she preened herself for my inspection. "You've grown up a bit, I believe."

"Nearly," she agreed. "I was just a little girl the last time you saw me. I guess I'm not so little now."

"No," I said, unable to avoid the sight of a perky pink nipple peeking through a fray in the blue shirt.

"You're not a little girl any more." I let go of her hands. "You're not old enough to be out of school, though, are you?" It was only May. The last I heard, Dianna had been attending a fancy and exclusive boarding school for girls in New England.

"I'm going to school here now," she said. "I took today off. I expect they'll throw me out for it, but I'm used to that."

We moved into the foyer of the house. "Have you been kicked out of school before?" I asked.

"A couple of times."

I was shocked. "What on earth for?"

"Oh, once they caught me smoking pot. It was no big deal but the headmistress threw a real shit-fit. You know."

I shook my head in bewilderment. "Well," I said at last, "I suppose you're lucky it wasn't the police. I really think you and I ought to have a talk sometime, Dianna."

"Oooh, I'd love that," she cooed, pushing herself against my side, framing my arm between her breasts. "Say," she went on, "Mom's not here now. She had to go upstate yesterday to see about some of the property settlement stuff, and she won't be back till tonight or tomorrow. So I guess you're gonna be my guest till she gets back." She took my hand in both of hers, rubbing it between her hot palms. "Why don't you come on out to the pool with me, and I'll fix you a nice cool drink." We went through the living room and out the glass doors to the patio. Dianna placed a chair beneath a shady umbrella, for the sun was hot that day, and then she disappeared into the house to return with a portable bar on which nestled an ice bucket and bottles of gin and tonic. "How did you know?" I asked.

"You always drank gin and tonic," she smiled. "I remembered that, even if I haven't seen you in just ages. I remember everything about you, Uncle John. When I was a little girl you were my hero."

"Now you're a big girl," I said, "and big girls don't need heroes any more."

"No, they don't," she agreed. She mixed my drink and handed it to me. "Is it OK?"

"Perfect."

A warm smile enveloped her face, in pretty contrast to the sleepy sexy ambience of her blue eyes. Then she fixed herself an identical drink and pulled a chair up beside me.

"Aren't you a little young to be drinking gin?" I asked.

"I'm going to be seventeen in July," she smiled dazzlingly, "and besides, Mom says that as long as I don't get busted for grass she doesn't care if I have a little drink now and then. That's legal."

"Really, Dianna, I think perhaps we might talk about that now," I said. This child had been like a daughter to me when I was living here in Richvale and I still felt a proprietary interest in her welfare.

She put down her drink and got up. "Not now, Uncle John. It's too pretty a day to talk about 'You mustn't do this or that, Dianna-it'll make your hair fall out or your upper lip grow a black mustache or give you pimples.' Let's just enjoy the day."

"All right," I conceded.

"Hey," she said, "I know what would be out of sight. Let's go swimming."

"I don't think so," I told her. "But if you want to, go ahead."

"Well," she smiled, "I ought to warn you that I like to swim nude. Would that bother you?" She looked at me questioningly, one hand halted in the act of unbuttoning the top button of her shirt.

"What if one of your mother's servants should happen to come out?"

"It's their day off," she laughed. "Why else do you think I answered the door when you rang? Really, Uncle John, if you'd rather I didn't-"

I'm not so old-forty-two, but I look several years younger, thanks to keeping in shape-but sometimes it seems these kids and I are living in two different worlds. This girl was young enough to be my daughter, and I suppose I had seen her naked dozens-no, hundreds-of times when she was a child. And since she didn't seem to think that I would get embarrassingly aroused at the sight of her bare body now, I couldn't understand why I was so hesitant "If you want to," I said, "go ahead. It may remind me of the time I took your picture on that bearskin rug in front of the fireplace."

"Oh, don't mention that," she grimaced, then she smiled at me, the smile of a young and vibrant person conversing with a senile ancient, and, turning her back to me, removed her shirt. The muscles of her body rippled under the layers of her flesh and I noted that she already had a nice tan, even and consistent (from the back, at least) on her upper body. Then she unfastened her belt, let down the zipper, and slithered out of her jeans. What surprised me was that she was panty-less under them.

Then, with a graceful swooping leap, she dived into the pool from the edge. As she went headfirst into the water I got a marvelous upside-down view of her tanned body, first her auburn hair, then her browned face, pink-pointed breasts, and lastly of a beaver the same shade as the auburn mane that crowned her head. The water splashed as she entered it, and I could see her graceful nude body skimming through the blue-tinted waters of the large pool.

I watched her swim for a while, sipping now and then at my drink. Sometimes she glided along the water on her stomach, the liquid rolling across the perfect ass and legs, and sometimes she swam on her back, the saucy tips of her breasts rising above the waters. I kept reminding my body that today's kids meant nothing sexual by the exposure of their bodies, that they were far more natural and un-hung-up than my generation had ever been. And still I felt a stirring of something I didn't want to think about.

Dianna pulled herself to the edge of the pool and lifted her head over the side to look at me. "Why don't you come in, Uncle John? You look awfully hot sitting there." She bobbed up and down, a nipple sometimes emerging to join her eyes in staring at me.

"No," I said, "it's all right here. Besides, I don't have a suit." And instantly regretted that for its implication that there was something wrong with her casual, child-like skinny-dipping.

"You don't need a suit," she urged, climbing out of the pool and skittering across the patio to me, droplets and streams of water running down her body. One drop of water hung for the longest time on the point of her erect right nipple before it too splashed onto her flat belly and into the mat of hair below. Now she stood before me, one cold wet hand tugging at mine, an imploring look enveloping her lovely face.

I stood up. She placed her hands on my stomach, wetting me through to the skin. "Now," she said, "you're wet already. You might as well come in with me."

Her fingers stole to the buttons of my shirt and before I could stop her-as if I could have stopped her-I was undone to the waist. There was nothing I could do but throw off my coat, remove the shirt, and begin to unfasten my belt. She knelt at my feet and took off my shoes and socks. Soon my trousers and shorts lay with the other clothes in a pile by the chair. Dianna stepped back to look at me.

"Wow," she said in amazement, "you don't have anything to be ashamed of, Uncle John. You look just like a Greek god or something."

"You don't know much about Greek gods, I can tell." But her approval did fill me with pride, because I spend a lot of money at my health club, keeping my body in shape. I was glad the investment had paid off, at least in the eyes of this lovely, innocent child.

"Race you to the pool," I challenged, and in a twinkling we were both in the water, splashing and laughing, naked as Adam and Eve in the chasteness of the garden.

I swam the long pool back and forth several times, partly because it was a pleasurable sensation, partly to show this sweet young girl that I was still fit, for all my advanced years. Coming to the edge I looked around for Dianna but I couldn't see her in the water. I hoisted myself to look around the patio, to see if she had gotten out, when suddenly there was a rippling in the water behind me and just below the waterline I felt a hand take hold of my cock and give it a mighty squeeze.

I stiffened at once and the surprise was so great that I lost my balance on the edge of the pool and fell back into the water to collide with Dianna. She wrapped her slim legs around me, pressing my cock with her wet and hairy pussy, and her mouth sought mine in a hot tonguing kiss. I tried to fight free of her, but she was strong and determined, and I was afraid that I might hurt her if I struggled too much.

When I could break my lips away from hers I asked her, "Dianna, what are you doing?"

Still locked tight around me, her legs locked around my back, and the lips of her cunt sliding against my hard cock, she breathed, "I'm seducing you, Uncle John."

"This is ridiculous," I said, evading her lips. Petulantly she broke away from me and dived, but only deep enough to rub her lips along the shaft of my dick.

I caught her by the left arm and the right breast and pulled her to the surface. One of her hands immediately clamped down on mine and held it to the tit I had taken by accident.

"Dianna," I began, "you're only sixteen years old. Now is this any way for you to behave?"

She burst into tears. "Oh, Uncle John," she wailed, "ever since Daddy left, I've been heartbroken! Do you think it's easy for a girl to grow up without a man to guide her?" She collapsed into tears and buried her head in my chest, making sure that she put a further clamp down on my hand holding her tit.

"Having a man to guide you and having one to seduce you are two different things," I said sternly. "Now let's get out of the water and get dressed. And then we're going to have a very serious talk. One that, I gather, you've needed for some time."

We dried ourselves off on the patio and she brought a couple of robes. Mine was long, like an old-fashioned bathrobe, and made of the same stuff as towels. Hers was very short and when she sat down I had disquieting glimpses of her cunt. "Please," I said, and handed her a towel. She looked at it with a puzzled stare. "Put it in your lap," I said. She shook her head in amazement but draped the towel over her crotch.

Then she stood up, letting the towel drop. "I'm forgetting my manners," she said. "Would you like another drink, Uncle John?"

"Yes, I think I would." She fixed two and handed me one. I tasted it. There was a thin taste of tonic mixed with a triple-strength dose of gin. "Dianna," I said, "I think this drink is a little too strong-" but she had already turned on a portable radio on a table by the glass doors, found a rock station, and was beginning to dance to the music.

Her shortie robe flounced and bounced as she moved her body in time with the strident, dynamic rhythms emanating from the radio. Now and then the robe gaped open in front to reveal a breast or slipped up her thighs as she moved, to expose the auburn hair that fringed her crotch. I called to her several times but she seemed to be living only in the music. Realizing that I could not reach her until the spell cast by the song on the radio had passed, I sat back with my drink.

The drink was very strong and I felt a tingle of warmth spreading through my head as I sipped at it. Dianna glided and danced her way back and forth across the patio in an ever-narrowing circle, of which my chair was the center. At last she was moving within touching distance of me and I reached out to catch her hand, to settle her down for that talk she seemed to be devoted to postponing.

When our hands locked she came to me, instantaneously abandoning the dance, and knelt at my feet. Before I could stop her she had opened the robe I wore, brought forth my cock, and rolled it in her warm hands.

The gentle touching of her feather-soft fingers brought me to an immediate erection and she beamed at the sight like a three-year-old with a brand new toy. "Dianna," I began, and as I spoke the words she dropped her head. From between her thin lips a pink tongue snaked forth to lick at the tender head of my cock.

An electric shock ran through my body and the gin I had drunk suddenly crystallized into blind ecstasy. She puckered her lips and kissed my prick, right on the slot at its tip, and I felt as if I could not sit still another minute. But before I could do anything, either to stop or to assist her, she had opened her mouth and sucked me inside, lolling my organ on her tongue, nipping at the shaft with her perfect little teeth, sucking all the while.

My hips began to rise and fall with her marvelous blowing and my fingers wrapped in her auburn hair, glowing now in the sunlight like molten fiery gold, to hold her to the task-as if there seemed to be any chance that Dianna would abandon now what she had begun. By a mighty force of effort I rose from the chair, drawing Dianna up with me as she held on to me with her delicious mouth, and then I lay down on the patio floor. She held me so tightly in her lips that it was painful at first to make-the switch I had in mind, until she realized what I was doing and eased the pressure of her tongue and teeth to allow me to slide into the classic position, the 6 and the 9, the Yin and the Yang.

Now she had me in her mouth upside down while I worked my head into the furry patch between her tight thighs, parting the velvet lips of her snatch with my fingers, tickling and squeezing her baby clitoris with a thumb and finger, and at last rubbing my tongue up and down the vale of her slot.

She tasted fresh and sweet and natural, unmasked by the odor of perfumes or hygiene sprays or twenty years of anything-goes fucking. Wintergreen and jasmine and rosemary and juniper and roses in their blooming-these were the overtones of taste and fragrance that filled the cunt of Dianna Turner, and as I drank in their essence I did not for a moment allow myself to remember that this was a sixteen-year-old girl, the child of two of my best friends, a girl who had been brought up from infancy to think of me as "Uncle John." She was a garden of delights and a pearl of great price and in the joy of our union I took her as a full sexual partner, unencumbered by any scruples or any laws of God or man.

I ate greedily at her pussy, delving my tongue deep within her core of being, withdrawing it to lick and suck at her clitoris. And then I felt her cunt begin to contract and squeeze at my tongue and she grew wetter than ever, filling my mouth with a taste that defied description. The nectar of the gods could hold nothing in comparison to the taste of Dianna enjoying her orgasm. She moaned around the shaft of my cock, driving in and out of her greedy hot mouth, and as I increased my pace I continued licking and sucking on her, to bring her to the pinnacle of such pleasures as I could afford her.

A fresh orgasm swept Dianna's cunt and she released my cock entirely so that she might give vent to a piercing screaming moan.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!" she cried as I brushed the edge of my front teeth along the raw and sensitive nub of her glistening clit. And then she screamed once more as my cock erupted of its own free will.

The first spurt drenched her face and trembling lips. As quick as time itself she seized the quivering shaft and thrust it inside her mouth that she might not miss another drop of the wad it was shooting. As I exploded again and again she held my penis tightly inside her lips, the scorching flood of semen filling her mouth. She had to gulp fast to swallow it, and I could see trickles of my love-juice dripping down her chin from the corners of her lips-the surplus of passion which she could not contain within herself.

After what seemed an eternity the flow ceased and we lay back, our heads still at one another's genitals. The cum was drying on her chin and breasts when I pulled myself around to face her. Without a word we pressed our bodies together, mouths meeting, tongues darting in and out of one another's lips, each of us tasting the juices our bodies had spewed into the other's gulping mouth.

"Oh, God, Uncle John!" she cried in a lost voice after what seemed forever. I pulled her close to me again and kissed her long and deep. The tangy taste of her pussy juices on my mouth excited her and she sucked my tongue as eagerly as if it had been my cock.

CHAPTER TWO

The essential absurdity of the situation finally struck me as we lay there side by side, my hands cradling and fondling her firm, small breasts, her fingers gently tickling my balls.

"Dianna," I said, "this is ridiculous."

"That's the second time you've said that today, Uncle John," she replied, laying a finger across my lips.

Talking around her finger I tried to explain it to her. "Dianna, you've always been just like a favorite niece to me-like the daughter I might have had if I'd been married instead of a wealthy old bachelor."

"You didn't seem so old to me," she smiled.

"I'm old enough to be your father," I said sternly. "Now you've got to promise me that this subject will never come up again. I don't know what got into me. It must have been a combination of what you were doing and that scandalously strong gin and tonic you mixed for me. But this must never be allowed to happen again. Do you understand me?"

"Didn't you like it?" she asked, appearing to be on the verge of tear?..

"I liked it too much," I said. "Now, Dianna, you are only a child. For one thing, there is a law in this state that makes what we did today a crime. The method we have just pursued to what was, I trust, mutual satisfaction is legally known as sodomy. It is punishable by a term of one to ten years in the state penitentiary."

"Jesus," she said. "Is that true?"

"You bet it is," I replied. "Don't forget, I'm a lawyer."

"My God," she whispered, releasing my testicles. "That's the most hideous thing I've ever heard. Who made those laws anyway?"

"The State Legislature. To protect the people of the state, as they claim."

She got up and walked naked across the patio to look at her reflection in the waters of the pool. "I think they're full of shit," she snarled, looking back at me across her bare tanned shoulder.

I came to join her, putting one arm around her. She instantly seized the hand and locked it around her breast. I tried to pull it loose but there was no arguing with her so I let it stay.

"They may indeed be full of shit," I said, "as you pointed out," and I found myself absent-mindedly stroking a nipple to erection. "But the principal purpose of the age of consent law is to protect young girls like you from being abused by older men."

"Did you abuse me?" she asked with a look of real, not feigned, innocence.

"The law says I did."

"Then the law is full of shit," she said decisively. "Look," and she pointed to the water, at our reflection. "Don't we make a cute couple? We even look a little bit alike." I looked at the image shining back at us from the rippling surface of the pool.

"The water distorts a little," I said gently. "We look like a tired old lawyer and the daughter of his two best friends, and we also look like two people who have just done something they can never allow themselves to do again."

"I don't understand you at all, Uncle John," she said. "You act like you've just popped my cherry or something. I've been fucking for a couple of years now. It's nothing new to me. I just liked it better with you than with anybody else I've done it with so far."

I shook my head. "Dianna, Dianna," I said. "We are absolutely going to have to have that talk you've been putting off for so long. And this time no funny business."

"Bet you can't catch me," she called, breaking away from me and running into the house, her bare ass gleaming in the sunlight, the round little tits bouncing like apples on a limb as she ran.

I had no choice so I hastened after her. But she had a head start on me and when I ran into the living room she was nowhere to be seen. I walked into the hallway and looked all around.

"Dianna! Where are you?"

There was a snickering little laugh, whose origin I couldn't place. I called again.

"Dianna!"

Again that little laugh. This time I knew for sure. She was upstairs, and as I cast my eyes that way I saw her peeking at me through the railing on the second floor.

"Come down here," I said.

She laughed as she hopped to Her feet and disappeared down the hallway on her floor. I had no choice so I went up the stairs. When I reached the top there was no sign of her. I went to my right, looking in at each of the open doors that I passed, going all the way to the bathroom at the end of the hall. No sign of her.

So I turned and went back down the hall, checking each room I had already looked into for good measure.

And then down the previously untapped side of the house, looking in each room. Unless she'd gone back downstairs she had to be here somewhere. The last room was obviously hers. It was decorated in soft little-girl colors-pinks and whites and a dash of blue here and there, and the bed was a delicious candy-dish four-poster with canopy in real Colonial style. One wall was occupied by a huge early American dresser with a long mirror set in its length and I saw myself in it as I entered the room, naked and feeling, as well as looking, a trifle foolish.

In the smooth clear glass I also saw the door swing shut behind me and Dianna stepping out from behind it, naked and triumphant. She came up behind me and I turned to face her. Dianna melted into my arms like jelly, her lips searching for mine, her hands feeling my ass and the tender area at the back of my balls.

I cradled her to me, my hands likewise rubbing her, massaging her soft back muscles and her plump pigeon ass and the upper curves of her lovely thighs. She pulled me to the bed and I didn't fight her.

We lay down side by side, she on her back, looking up at me with undisguised love in her eyes and her smile; I on my side, looking down at her with an emotion I could not put a name to. She took one of my hands and put it in her hair.

"Make me feel good, Uncle John," she whispered, stroking her soft, luxurious hair with my fingers. "Please make me feel good."

I bent my head and our lips locked in another tongue duel of a kiss. My fingers twined and twisted in her hair, sometimes piffling at it savagely, but she didn't scream or cry out. Instead she fought me with her mouth, biting my lips and nibbling at my tongue. I lay down across her, my other hand sliding up and down her furry cunt. She squirmed as I rubbed and rubbed and rubbed at her clitoris, driving herself upward to press her pussy against my fingers.

Our hands strayed and wandered, clutching at whatever portion of the other's body could be grasped. For a time we teased and tormented one another's nipples, although hers were by far the more sensitive, and she reached her first orgasm of this bout from the combined action of my fingers and teeth on her nipples. And then she buried her face in the hair of my chest, pulling at the tiny strands with her teeth, biting me more and more savagely as the passion and the fire came to occupy her mind and body, and I felt her sliding down my body.

The obvious goal of her activities was my cock, which by now was erect once more and ready for action. She fell upon it like wolves upon a weary traveler, sucking and licking, and it was with a sense of loss that I finally caught her by the chin and pulled her from her oral impalement upon that jutting peak of sensuality.

"Are you going to fuck me now, Uncle John?" she asked, expectation gleaming in her eyes.

"I'm not going to fuck you," I hissed, "I'm going to FUCK you!" and I pulled her up, resting her head on the pillow, before poising myself atop her trembling tanned body. The head of my penis was bobbing up and down and my hands were shaking with anticipation as I seized it and aimed it for the dripping wet lips of her pink haven of joy.

Her obvious lubrication, though abundant, was not enough to prepare her totally for the introduction of my seven inches. Damn the torpedoes and full speed ahead, I thought grimly as I put the very head of my cock against her quivering slot. When I had the bearings right I gave a mighty lunge and shot forward into the depths of her.

For the second time that afternoon Dianna screamed like a soul possessed by demons. My first stroke brought our bodies together with a resounding thwack! as I pierced her to the hilt.

"Oh God Christ fuck shit!" she whispered as the head of my lunging peter drove to the mouth of her womb. She made a choking sound and her eyes went buggy and her tongue snaked out of her mouth as though she were being strangled. I bent my head forward and sucked the tip of her tongue into my mouth and then retracted almost to the point of complete withdrawal before socking it into her again.

And once more she gasped and screamed, this time muffled because her tongue was still sucked between my lips, but her loins were moving like a California earthquake as she matched the strokes of my peter moving in and out of her clutching pussy.

No one had ever penetrated her like this before, I was willing to stake any money. She said she had been fucking since she was fourteen, but this was something new in her experience. Almost automatically the lips of her cunt began to squeeze me as I shot in and out of her. I had never heard of a girl this young who could do that. Dianna must have been a natural, I thought, as I kept up my insane rhythm of fucking.

Earlier by the pool I had sucked and licked her clit raw and the constant friction from my pubic hair must have driven her mad with ecstasy. She was coming constantly as I fucked her, and at last I had to let go her tongue to give her a chance to let her steam off verbally as well as bodily.

"Oh fuck me, fuck me, please, don't stop, shove it in, shove it in, give me ALL OF IT-God, GOD DAMN, GOD DAMN!!!" Her eyes were glassy and revolving in their sockets and she looked like an epileptic caught by a sudden seizure. And then I felt the pressure building up, up ... UP deep within me and I had to pull the safety valve or I would explode the top of my head off and I fell upon her like a bull elephant, driving my cock as far into her as it could go, the tip hammering against her womb and driving her to a pitch of abandon even more elevated than any she had yet shown, and I couldn't manage another piston stroke if my life, my immortal soul, depended upon it.

I pressed upon her like a mountain fallen upon a helpless village as my peter gushed semen as hot as lava far into the pit of her womanhood. There seemed to be no end to the rushing river of cum that poured out of me, and I lay helpless against her as my cock shook and quivered and exploded, and there were stars rushing at me and around me, and I was helpless in the midst of colliding bodies and for a time I knew no more.

CHAPTER THREE

Like the passengers of the fairy-tale flying carpet, I drifted and glided aimlessly through a world of clouds and calm. Dianna and I lay together, my cock still buried in her tight slit, our arms holding each to the other's breast, her legs clamped round mine.

But the peace and contentment that fell upon me in this post-orgasmic paradise were, like all other human joys and pleasures, fleeting and barely tangible at their best. Slowly at first and then with the impetus of a streaking jet the realization of what I was doing swept across me and stunned my mind with its enormity.

With difficulty I unclasped my arms from round the child whose innocent love and admiration I had twice violated, let my penis slither its way out of her sticky, cum-filled pussy, and by strength alone freed my legs from the entwining .grip of hers. I lay back beside her on the bed. She looked up at me from the pillow on which her head rested, the flush of orgasm mingling with the tan of her fresh young face, a gleaming moisture shining in her eyes.

"Oh God," she said in a husky tone. "That was sensational. I'm so full of your cum I'll probably squish when I walk." A delicate hand reached up to whisk an errant strand of hair from across her eyes, then buried itself in her auburn mane as she lay preening for me. The movement of her arm caused her breasts to rise and the pointing nipples aimed themselves at me in what seemed to be a mingling of invitation and accusation.

I looked at her and asked myself again and again how I could have allowed such a thing to happen. In the slanting afternoon light that came through the bedroom window and played across her young body on the bed, she seemed more a child than ever. The red and gold highlights in her hair sparkled and shone in alternating patterns as she lolled her head on the pillow, and the face framed by the falling mane was so unbearably young and tender I felt myself on the verge of tears or suicide. Her small round breasts-the breasts of a girl in her early blooming-rose and dropped with her breathing. They were tender young apples not ripe enough for the plucking and eating, although I had done both only this afternoon. Her slim waist would have fit into the bend of my arm, and only her hips, swelling into woman's shape, marked her passage into the period of physical maturity. She drew up her long coltish legs as I watched, spreading them more, perhaps, than she should have, and her vagina winked open. Because of her position it was tilted upward, like the mouth of a communicant waiting for the priest to fill it with the holy bread and wine.

I placed my hand upon her head, locking fingers with the one tousling her hair.

"Dianna, how did this start?"

She looked at me in surprise. "Why, don't you remember, Uncle John? I took off my clothes and went swimming and then you did, and then we started to fool around? And I really loved it."

"No," I said. "Before that."

"Well, gee," she said, pretending to think very hard. "I guess it all started when I was just a baby and I picked up a real crush on you. Gosh, I always thought you were just the handsomest man in the whole world. When I was little I used to wish that someday I could grow up and marry you. Sometimes I used to dream that-"

"Not that," I interrupted. "Go back to the beginning."

"Hmmm," she reflected. "I guess it all started when some cave men were fooling around with some cave girls and one of them got this thing up and maybe some cave girl said, 'Golly, I bet it would be fun if you stuck that long old piece of skin up into this little hole I have between my legs and see what happens.' But then, if nobody had ever done it before, there wouldn't have been any cave people to think about trying it, so I guess I really don't know. I'm sorry, Uncle John. How do you think it all started?"

I rolled away from her in exasperation. "Goddamnit, Dianna! That isn't what I mean at all. What I want to know is, how did you get started doing things like this? You told me you had been engaging in sexual activities for a couple of years."

"Oh," she said, an ingenuous smile brightening her pretty face. "You want to know how I got popped? Why didn't you ask me?

"Well, it was a couple of years ago, like I said. When I was in that boarding school in Virginia. I was in the ninth grade, and my titties were just starting to swell up-they've still got a long way to go, though, haven't they?" She reached a lazy finger to touch her nipples. "I'm not really as developed as most girls my age, you know."

I caught her hand and took it in mine. "Just tell me the story," I said.

"Oh, sorry. Well, like I said, I was in the ninth grade, and I had been having my periods, you know, for almost a year, and every now and then I was getting funny thoughts and feelings. The proctor on our floor was seventeen, and she'd been around, so I asked her about, it, and she said it was nothing unusual. She said all girls feel that way when they get big enough for a good sound fucking, and I ought to find some guy and let him sock it to me. Well, I checked around, and a couple of the other girls in my class said, sure, that was right. So, in October we celebrated Founders' day at the school and we had a dance and the boys from a military school on the other side of the county came over to be our escorts. They looked so cute in their uniforms and short haircuts, walking around like they had pokers up the backs of their jackets, and I got to talking with one of them. His name was Harvey, and he had the sweetest Southern accent. He was from Alabama, and his daddy was an officer in the army.

"Anyway, we danced a few times, and then I asked him if he had ever seen the campus. He said no, so I offered to show him around. We walked around for a while and looked at the rose garden and the buildings, and then we went inside the gym. It was dark and cozy and I let him kiss me a lot, and after a while I got him back into the exercise room, you know, with a bunch of mats on the floor so we wouldn't get hurt doing tumbling and headstands and all that stuff, and I let him play with my titties and kiss me some more.

"But, Uncle John, you would have died to see the look on his face when I unzipped his pants and put my hand on his dick! Harvey was so cute I thought sure he must know just what I wanted, but would you believe it, he was as cherry as I was! It was a good thing for me that some of the other girls had told me what to do.

"So finally we got out of our clothes and I laid down on one of the mats and put a handkerchief under my ass so I wouldn't bleed all over everything, and then I took hold of Harvey's cock and put it right into my lit tie hole. It hurt like the dickens but I stuck right to it until he was finished. Then we wiped ourselves off and went back to the dance.

"It wasn't much fun, and I was sore as hell for a couple of days, but the other girls said that didn't matter. And they said it would get a whole lot better as time went on and I found guys that knew what to do. Gods, were they ever right! And today was the very best time of all. Thank you, Uncle John. Thank you a whole bushel worth of kisses!"

She leaned across to give me a kiss on the tip of my nose. "Umm," she said, leaning back, '"there's something else I ought to kiss, too."

I caught her before she could bend her head to my crotch. "How many times have you done this, Dianna?"

She wrinkled her nose and thought. "I don't know," she said, sticking her little red tongue tip between her lips. "You lose count after a while. I know I did it with about half the guys at the military school that year. We had a lot of dances," she said, smiling.

"Half the guys?" I repeated.

"Oh, it's not so bad as that," she grinned. "There were only forty or fifty students there. The school went bankrupt at the end of the year and had to close down."

"And besides them?"

She shrugged. "It's not lady-like to keep count, my roommate always said." She put her hands on my chest. "But none of them were as good as you, Uncle John. I mean, when I had your cock in my mouth, or when it was shooting that gooey cream into my belly, God, I felt like I'd died and gone to heaven. Can we do it again?"

I got off the bed. "No, we can't," I said. "Never again. I don't know what came over me today, why I let you do what you did, or why I let myself react the way I did. I only know that it must never, repeat never, happen again."

The glow in her eyes was replaced by a look of hurt and anguish. "What's wrong?" she asked. "Didn't you like it?"

"That's not the point," I said determinedly.

"You didn't like it," she said with a sob choking in her throat. "I know I'm not very good," she pleaded, "But I'm only seventeen-"

"Almost seventeen," I corrected.

"Nearly seventeen," she declared, "and I can learn. Tell me what I did wrong. I promise I'll learn how to do it right."

"It's not what you did wrong," I said gently. "It's what I did wrong. I let my weaknesses control me. I carnally abused an underage girl. The fact that you are the daughter of my dearest friends and that I've known you since the day you were born is only a form of poison icing on a strychnine cake."

She looked at me and I could see a tear welling in one eye.

"Look at it realistically, Dianna. You have allowed yourself to grow up much too fast. Suppose you find yourself pregnant. What then?"

"Pregnant?" she asked.

"Yes," I said. "Pregnant. It can happen, and frequently does, when a man shoots his sperm into a woman's vagina. And very, very often when someone drops his load into a young girl's vagina. Have you ever thought about that?"

"Sure," she smiled, "but not too much."

"You should give it a great deal of thought," I said in my most avuncular tones.

"Well, hell," she replied, "I take the pill. Don't all girls?"

I was taken aback. "Don't you see what I'm getting at, Dianna? You've grown up at twice the speed of light. When I was your age boys and girls weren't running around from bed to bed. Do you know that the first time I ever had intercourse with a girl was when I was in the army? I was nineteen years old and five of us went from Fort Knox into Louisville and spent an evening at a house of prostitution."

"That's just it," she said.' "Look at that. You were nineteen, and you had to pay some frowzy old whore to pop your cherry for you. Things are different today. I don't charge for it, if I feel like going to bed with a guy. And I'll bet she was a frowzy old whore, wasn't she?"

In fact she was, but I said, "No, she was rather young and pretty."

Dianna pursed her lips and looked sideways at me as if to emphasize her disbelief in what I was telling her.

"Look," I told her, "we've come a long way from the subject. Dianna, I really think you ought to have a talk with your mother. Or better still, your clergyman." She forced her voice into a thin, high nasal and intoned, "Thou shalt not commit adultery." It sounded exactly like a preacher I had met once, who had been named as co-respondent in a divorce case. "That's all they think about. Thou shalt not this and thou shalt not that. If I wasn't supposed to be doing these things, then why do I have all the necessary body parts to do them with and the urges to use them in the way they were meant to be used?"

I had no answer for her and would have had to admit it if the phone hadn't rung, out in the hall. Dianna leaped off the bed with the grace of a young doe and ran to answer it. I followed to the door and watched her as she stood naked, leaning against the wall, the phone cradled between her head and shoulder, her hands rubbing her breasts and stomach.

Her end of the conversation consisted primarily of "yeahs" and "uh-huhs" and finally an "okay" and a "bye, Mom." She came back to me, rubbing her sleek sweaty frame against mine.

"Was that your mother?" I asked.

"Yeah," she said, nuzzling my chest.

"Is she on her way home?" I asked.

"Not till tomorrow afternoon or evening," Dianna mumbled. Then, looking up at me with a hopeful twinkle in her eyes, "Let's do it again."

"No," I said, unloosening her grip on me. "I already told you. No more." I brushed past her and went down the hall to the bathroom. She came in behind me.

"How about some privacy," I smiled. She rubbed against me, pressing her tits against my arm.

"Not a chance," she said. "I want to find out all about you."

"Okay," I said. "You want to learn, then you'll learn." I aimed my cock at the bowl of the toilet and began to piss.

"Oh, gee," she gurgled, and I felt her hand take its place alongside mine on the stalk of my penis.

"Hey," she said, "that feels really keen. Just like holding a water hose while it's squirting." I finished pissing and she shook the remaining drops off the head of my peter.

"If you're not gonna use this for a while, Uncle John, can I play with it? Huh, huh?" It was already springing to life in her hands.

I took her fingers off it and faced her down with a stem look. Then I caught her by the shoulders and led her to the door. 'I'm going to take a shower," I said. "You get some clothes on, go down to the pool and get my clothes. I can't check into a motel like this. Now step on it," and I closed the door behind her, locking it for good measure.

When I had finished drying myself off I opened the door. There was no sign of Dianna or my clothes. I called her name. There was no answer. Wrapping a towel around my middle I started down the hall. She wasn't in her room. I went to the head of the stairs and called her again. There was a faint laugh in reply, from somewhere below. Not this game again, I thought grimly, and started down after her.

She was in the kitchen.

"My clothes, please," I said formally.

She laughed sparklingly. "You don't need them. The towel you're wearing is just neat! And besides, it matches my outfit." Which was, to be exact, a pair of scandalously skimpy, nearly transparent bikini panties and an intoxicating smile.

"Really, Dianna. I have to get dressed and be on my way."

"Yeah, you said something about going to a motel. Not on your life."

"I can't very well stay here if your mother won't be back till tomorrow."

"Don't see why not," she grumbled. "I can be as good a hostess as she is."

"It's not that," I protested. "What would your mother think if she knew I had spent the night here alone with you?"

"She'd think, gee, I'm lucky to have a nice daughter like Dianna who knows how to treat my oldest and best friend. That's what she'd think."

Unfortunately she was right. Peggy Turner was the sweetest woman imaginable, and not for a moment would she believe that I had engaged in any debaucheries with her daughter.

"So," Dianna continued, "you'd better make yourself at home, lover, 'cause you don't get your clothes back till I hear Mom's footsteps on the porch. And maybe not even then," she added with a fiendish sparkle.

"Listen to me, Dianna. If I do stay here overnight with your mother away, there will be no repeat of what went on this afternoon. Do you understand me?"

"Crystal-clear," she agreed. "Which would you rather have? Fried oysters, oyster soup or raw oysters?"

"None of them," I said. "Is that all you know how to cook?"

"Of course not," she protested. "I've had home EC every year since seventh grade. But you need something to build your strength up, and my roommate last year said oysters were just the thing."

I shook my head. "Fry them," I said. "But let me warn you. Nothing is going to happen tonight."

"Okay," she smiled. "A dozen? Better make it fifteen." She looked back at me. "Some of them might not work, so we ought to have a safety factor."

CHAPTER FOUR

Dianna made me eat each and every one of the fifteen oysters she had fried. I decided as I put down my fork that if a natural calamity tomorrow should totally exterminate the oyster population of the world, there might be tears shed, but none of them would be mine.

I arose from the table. "There's a chill in the air," I told her. "May I please have my clothes? I don't want to catch a cold."

"Spoilsport," she muttered, but I could see that the evening drop in temperature had already set her nipples to puckering, and when she gave me my clothes she also picked up and donned a shapeless white sweatshirt with 'Handle Carefully' stenciled on its front.

Hand in hand we walked out of the kitchen. In the hall she paused a moment, pressing my hand against the crotch of her panties. "See," she said, "I'm already a little wet."

"Dianna!" She dropped my hand and let her head drop to the side.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "How about if I fix you a drink and we just sit and talk? Okay?"

I nodded, and we went into the recreation room where a long mahogany bar dominated one comer. She went behind it, picked up a glass, and began to polish it.

"What's your pizen, stranger?" she said in a pseudo-western accent. "Red eye, tarantula juice, or panther piss?"

"How about a screwdriver?" I asked.

"Sure thing," she husked, "but I gotta get this fucking tire changed first," giving me the punch line of a joke I had first heard in high school. "What's the matter?" she questioned. "See, this rich girl is going back to college after vacation and her daddy's chauffeur is taking her in the family Caddy, and on the way they have a flat tire. So he gets out to change it, and he can't get the hub cap off, and she gets out to help him and she's looking through the toolbox for something to help get that damn hub cap off and she says to him, 'How about a screwdriver?' And he says, 'Sure thing, but I gotta get this fucking tire changed first.' "

"I've heard it," I assured her. "Long before you were born."

"Shit," she muttered. "How's this?" and she handed me my drink.

"Too much vodka," I said.

She smiled at me and nodded her head.

"That only works once, Dianna. No matter what you do to me, I don't intend to go through a sequel to today's little session."

"It looked pretty big from where I was lying," she whispered.

"Come on. Let's sit down and talk, like you said we should."

"Well, Jesus, let me fix my drink first," she protested.

"You don't need a drink."

"Okay," she shrugged. "I'll just blow some grass while you sip your thingamajig. Or maybe I'll just blow your thingamajig while you sip some grass."

"Come on. Fix yourself a drink if you want one." She made herself a duplicate of mine and we went across the room to some plush chairs in a corner.

Dianna pulled her chair nearer mine and sat herself down in a spraddled position. I could see the auburn hairs peeking out from beneath the elastic legbands of her panties. She saw that I could see them and spread her legs a little more, pulling the panties to allow more hair to creep forth. I caught her hand. "No," I said. "It won't work." Glumly she tucked the dark wisps beneath the fabric of her seductive garment.

The darkness of her pubic floss was painfully visible through the nearly transparent material. "Dianna." With a look of disgust she pulled the bottom of her sweatshirt down to cover her crotch. I nodded. She looked back at me with disappointment in every line of her young face.

"When was the first time you ever saw me, Uncle John?" she asked, sipping at her screwdriver.

I thought back over the years. "I guess you must have been a couple of days old."

"Really? Was I a cute baby? Everybody says so," she added.

"Yes," I agreed. "You were delightful. You were about so long-" I gestured with my hands-"and you were cuddled on Peggy's lap, just like a tiny little monkey."

"Oh," she said, brushing at me with her hand.

"When your daddy and I came in to see you, it was feeding time. You were so busy eating that you didn't pay a bit of attention to your daddy or me, and both of us had come a long way to see you."

"Was I a bottle baby?" she asked.

"No, not at all. Peggy breastfed you, as I remember." And well I did remember, the sight of that lush full breast that had given me such pleasure at various times as Peggy used it to feed and nourish the child of her own beautiful loins. Tom knew Peggy and I had been fairly serious before he married her-and after, too, though I doubt if he ever knew that-and it was no surprise to him that she felt not a bit of shyness at baring her full firm breast to nurse baby Dianna when I was around.

"Gee," she said, "I guess that explains it, then."

"Explains what?"

Dianna smiled in a shy girlish fashion. "Just something silly." She took another sip of her drink. "See, last year when I was at boarding school in Connecticut, I had this roommate who was a little-" She spread her palms outward. "Well, anyway, we'd be in bed sometimes and I'd be nursing at her breast, you know, not getting real milk or anything, just pretending and cuddling a little, and I'd get these flashes like a memory, almost, and I thought maybe in some other incarnation I'd been a baby who was breastfed. I never thought Mom would breastfeed me. They say it makes your titties sag, you know, and hers don't. Funny, isn't it?"

"It's not so funny when you think about it, Dianna. Do you mean to tell me that your roommate let you suck her breasts?"

"Sure." She took another sip.

"And cuddled you, you said."

"Uh-huh."

"What else did you do with her?"

"Oh, not too much. Nothing damaging. We just used to fool around sometimes. Like girls do. All the girls at the school did it-mostly when there weren't any boys around. Sometimes just because they wanted to. We'd play sixty-nine, or stick our fingers up each other's little holes. It was only for fun."

I got up and went to the bar. I needed another drink. Not only had Dianna entered the heterosexual wars underage, she had also apparently been engaging in a fairly active lesbian love life. Things had changed a great deal since I was her age.

When I came back to my chair I saw that her sweatshirt had slipped up again and once more I was staring at her pussy through a layer of panty that could have given Saran-wrap a run for its money. I coughed discreetly and motioned with my drink in hand. She wrinkled her nose at me and pulled the shirt down again.

"Dianna," I began, "these things you've been telling me about yourself. I don't know what to tell you-"

"Don't tell me anything," she said. "I'm not unusual or freaky or anything. Well, maybe a little freaky, I guess. But look, Uncle John, you could be talking to any one of my friends instead of me, and get the same kind of stories. We don't think it's perverted or evil or sinful to have fun, and I don't see why you should."

"I don't think it's perverted to have fun either," I replied. "In my opinion there should be no laws restricting the sexual behavior of consenting adults in private. But you're not a consenting adult. You're still a child"-I waved down her protest-"physically, emotionally, and legally. You could get in a great deal of trouble with your active sex life. Do you realize, for example, that the great, the overwhelming majority of rape cases in this country are not forcible rape, in which a man compels, by violence or threats of violence, a woman to engage in sexual activity with him? Most of the cases which occupy the police and the courts are what is known as statutory rape, in which a man has carnal connection with a girl under the age of consent. And then something happens and he gets found out."

"Well, if that happened to me," she declared, "there wouldn't be any problem. I'd just tell whoever it was, the police or the judge or whoever, that I said he could do whatever he wanted and I wanted, and there wouldn't be any hassle."

I shook my head in wonder. "You don't understand. By the terms of the law you do not have the power to give your consent. The law forbids you from engaging in sexual activities until you reach a certain age. In this state it's eighteen."

"I still say the law is full of shit," she said. Then, standing up, she raised her sweatshirt and pulled her panties down to reveal her fluffy mound. "This belongs to me, and not to some damned policeman or judge or whoever it is that makes these silly laws. It seems that I should be able to do what I want with it, doesn't it?"

"Theoretically, yes, I suppose. But until the law is changed-and I don't think that will ever happen unless the sixteen-year-olds take over the state government-it is still the case that you are a minor and an infant in the eyes of the law, and you cannot legally take part in any sexual activity with another person." With a rebellious gesture she began to rub the pink lips of her young slit with two fingers. "Does the law care if I play with it myself, then?"

I had to pop her bubble a little more. "As long as you do it in private, without being seen. But if you should indulge in masturbation in a public place or in the sight of anyone choosing to make a complaint, you could be arrested for indecent exposure or for public lewdness. There are a number of cases in the dockets of this state-"

"Oh, fuck it!" She pulled her panties back up, slid the sweatshirt bottom down to cover them, and plopped herself into the chair with a little thump.

Dianna toyed with her drink for a few minutes. Then she looked up at me. "Let's talk about something else, Uncle John. Okay? I'm tired of hearing about how evil and perverted and sinful I am in the eyes of the law."

"What would you like to talk about?"

"Let's see. How did you first meet Mom and Daddy?"

I smiled. "That's a long story. I started college on the G.I. Bill after I got out of the army-Korea and West Germany-and came to State University. There was a boarding house downtown that had a room open when I got there, but I had to share it with another guy. That was your daddy. We didn't like each other too much at first, but one night we went out and got drunk as preparation for a fight we were going to have, and before you knew it, we were best friends." I felt like a doddering old grandfather telling tales of the good old days to a gaggle of kids around a fireplace. Dianna watched me with interest, and it became harder and harder for me to accept the fact that only a couple of hours before we had been grappling one another in sexual combat on the bed in her little-girlish room upstairs.

"What about Mom?" she asked. "She wasn't your roomie too, was she?"

I suppressed a laugh. Bedmate often, roommate never. Damn the luck. "No, Tom and I pledged a fraternity our first year in college, and we were pin-mates to two girls pledging one of the sororities on campus. Tom's girl dropped out of the scene somewhere along the line, but neither of us noticed. We were both just crazy about your mother, who was my pin mate."

"You mean she wore your frat pin?"

"No, it wasn't that. You see, each of us who were pledging was paired with a girl who was pledging. It was for dances and such during the rush period and the pledging period. We had to help one another complete the projects we were assigned. Things like that."

"Oh, I see. How come she married Daddy if she was your pin mate?"

That hurt. I didn't know either. "You'll have to ask her," I suggested.

"Okay. That's a good idea."

"Now wait a minute, Dianna. That is your parents' business, not mine, not yours."

She frowned. "You liked her too, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did," I admitted. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, sometimes when Mom and Daddy were having fights, I used to hear your name come up. Just off and on. Something about why the fuck didn't she marry you, then? He used to ask her that sometimes." I felt myself flushing.

Dianna must have seen it, but she didn't mention it. "Do you remember the first time you ever saw Mom?" I nodded, perhaps too eagerly. "Was she pretty?" I nodded again.

The girl smirked. My reaction to her questions had not gone unnoticed. "What did you notice first about her-her tits, legs, or ass?"

I was floored. "That was a bitchy thing to say," I commented.

"Oh, I was only trying to make a funny," she smiled. "Did you really cop her cherry?"

I had put my drink to my lips when she spoke and the surprise of her question caused me to drop it with a shattering of glass and a splashing of liquid. In a flash Dianna was on her feet. She dashed to the bar and came back with a rag. Kneeling at my feet she began to wipe up the spilled drink and clean up the broken bits of the glass.

When she had gotten everything she put the rag and its contents in her chair, rested her elbows on my knees and looked up at me from between my legs.

"Why did you say that?" I asked hoarsely.

"It's true!! I knew it!!" she exulted, her eyes draining the truth from mine with a stare that could not be averted. "That was something else Daddy said one night in one of their arguments. Was she very good, Uncle John? Was she as good as I was?"

"I don't think we ought to talk about it," I said in a low hushed voice.

"Was she as good as me? I bet she wasn't! I'll just bet she wasn't!"

"When I knew your mother she was much older than you are," I hedged. "I was older than Tom and Peggy because I had spent four years in the army after high school. But she was still older than you are."

"Yeah," Dianna agreed reluctantly, "but then, if you copped her maidenhead, she couldn't have had any experience before. So who was better the first time-me or Mom?"

"Let's talk about something else," I said.

"Great," she chimed. "How were the oysters I fried for you? Do you feel all rested up and relaxed and ready to boogie again? Uncle John, have you ever given it to a girl in the ass? I've never done that, but if you want to try it, I'm willing. Or we could suck each other off again. I really dug that. And maybe for a topper you could stick it in my pussy and come till it looks like I'm using foam contraceptive. How about it? Huh? Huh? Huh?" There was no silencing the minx. She rattled on like a parrot who's just learned to talk and wants to make up for lost time.

When the flow of her words died off a trifle I seized the initiative. "Dianne, there's no point in going on like this. We're not going to bed again."

She jumped to her feet and peeled off the sweatshirt, baring once again her delicate small breasts. Their pink points danced as she spoke. "We don't have to go to bed," she pointed out. "Let's do it on the floor. Right now. Before we get out of the mood. Come on, Uncle John. Let's fuck!" And as she spoke she slipped the tiny light panties down her slim hips, stepped one foot out of them, extended the other leg in a parody of a ballerina's stance. She twirled the panties on her ankle, then gave a kick that sent them flying across the room to land in the middle of the pool table.

"Hey! How about on the pool table?"

"No," I said.

"Well, hell, who needs a pool table anyway? You've got the balls and I've got the pockets. And wow, man, you know how to shove that cue stick. So what are you waiting for? Let's boogie woogie!"

And then she was on me, kneeling on the arms of my chair, pressing her sweet-smelling cunt in my face. The nub of her sex trigger was directly in front of me and when I opened my mouth to speak to her a tooth rubbed it, sending her into a spasm. She pressed her body against me, and I feared for a moment that the chair would tip over with us in it, but fortunately it was better balanced than that. With her vagina shoved into my mouth I was in no position to speak, and the fresh and fragrant taste of her overwhelmed me. I began to lick and suck at her, darting my tongue in and out of her spread opening, nibbling at her labia minora, and running my tongue and teeth across her pulsing clitoris. She was already near orgasm and I could feel and taste the sweet moistness of her secretions running wild in the tunnel of her love.

"Oh God," she hissed, swiveling her hips so that I might miss none of her sensitive areas. I put my arms around her back to hold her close to me, but there was no need of it. Dianna had no intention of letting me go until I had satisfied her needs.

The garden fragrance of her delicate pussy was overwhelming in its beauty. As I nipped and sucked and licked and drank her juices I wanted nothing more than to fill my soul with the sexual splendor of this young child's love. She was writhing and rolling in my arms, driving her cunt against me so that I could scarcely breathe for the pressure of its musky aphrodisiac presence. Even the hairs that crowned her mons veneris were delicious to me, permeated as they were with the essences of her body.

"Suck me, suck me, suck me," she whispered, and the pressure of her body against my face gave me no other choice even had I wanted one. And the forbidden aura that clung to what we were doing had its effect on me as well. Inside my shorts my rod was pulsatingly erect, throbbing to be released from its place of confinement and shoved into whatever orifice of her body would give it relief.

"AAAAAHHH!!!" she screamed as she threw herself into a convulsion of shaking and panting. The walls of her cunt closed tightly round my exploring tongue, squeezing and releasing, squeezing and releasing till I thought a stream of cum must surely shoot from out of its tip if only to give me some release. I gave her clit a last lingering touch from my lip and then from my teeth and she shrieked the roof off the house. God, I hoped the rec room was soundproofed, or surely the neighbors would be on our backs before Dianna finished coming.

A tantalizing rush of juices flooded my tongue as it probed inside her channel and she broke into a series of hoarse pants, almost as though she were in the grip of a heart attack. Her ass was quivering and shaking in my grasp and her body shook like a flounder thrown into the grass. As best I could I removed my tongue from her flooding, quaking pussy and cuddled her into my lap.

She was crying and trembling and laughing all at the same time, and she looked up at me with the salt trails running down her cheeks to drip on her breasts and my shirt, and she said, "Oh Uncle John, Uncle John, Uncle John!" and she buried her head against my chest. The wetness of her tears soaked me to the skin.

All the while I cradled her in my arms the aching head of my enclosed penis pressed against her jumping ass, but she wasn't aware of it for some time. At last she lifted her head to look at me with smiling face and tear-drenched cheeks. It was then she felt the evidence of my own arousal.

"Oh God," she said, "I got so carried away when you chewed my little clitty that I forgot all about you."

She touched it tenderly through the cloth of my trousers. I winced at the touch. "Is it that bad, Uncle John?" I nodded. "Is it just full of that white cum of yours?" I nodded again, more earnestly. "And does it want to find some little hole in little Dianna and jerk itself into her until it spits all that delicious juice out? Right into Dianna's pretty little body?" I nodded once more and drew her face to mine, kissing all her tears away, drinking the salty-sweet taste of her weeping into my mouth, and, beneath that layer of wet, the exquisite natural taste of her face. My tongue entered her mouth and she thrilled at the sensation of feeling her own cuntal juices on her taste buds.

"Ummm," she whispered, "little Dianna tastes real good when she's hot. Food's gotta be cooked before you can eat it, but little Dianna doesn't get cooked until you eat her." She sucked at my tongue for a while, her hand gingerly patting my stiff and aching cock.

"Oooh, Uncle John, what are we gonna do about that?" she whispered into my mouth, her sweet girlish breath coming into me in a way that made me want to suck her dry once more.

"Would you like me to suck it for you?" she cooed. "Or would you like to put it right up my tight, tight, tight little ass?" and she squeezed me tantalizingly on each "tight."

"Or maybe you'd just rather fuck me the good old-fashioned way, just stick it between my legs and let it slide into my wet cunt, hmmm? Anything you want is okay with me, Uncle John. I love you so much." And she wrapped her lips around me for a kiss to which our prior mouth-mingling had been no more than an amateurish warm-up.

Her tongue delved far into my mouth and I realized as I never had before just what Linda Lovelace had to do in Deep Throat. And if she enjoyed it as much as I was enjoying the penetration of this lovely child's fearless tongue, then Linda must be one happy lady.

Dianna pulled her body off me, our mouths still locked, one of her hands planted alongside my cheek, the other fumbling with my shirt buttons. I lent my assistance and between us we got the garment unfastened. While I was taking care of my last button she dropped her fingers to my belt, trouser button, and zipper.

At last reluctantly, her mouth and mine dripping saliva, she broke off the kiss and helped me up to throw off my shirt, now soaked with the moisture of our collective perspiration. Then my trousers fell to the floor of their own volition and I stood clad only in my shorts, their front expanded grotesquely by the thrust of my erect cock.

"Oh," said Dianna, "I think I'm gonna have fun tonight!" She knelt before me and like a jeweler cutting a diamond carefully spread the waistband of my shorts wide and began to draw them down over my hips. As the material pulled away the weight of my peter sprang forth at her, banging against the smoothness of her unwrinkled forehead, marking its attack with a droplet of sperm. She reached a finger to the little damp spot, brought it to her tongue, tasted, and said, "Let me see. I'd guess Uncle John, 1974. An excellent vintage." And then with the fury of a berserker she wrapped her hands around the jutting shaft, aimed it for her mouth, and closed her lovely lips around it. The head of my dick was excruciatingly tender in the immediate pre-orgasmic fashion and I put a warning hand on her mane of auburn hair. Her eyes angled toward me.

"Don't get carried away, Dianna," I said. I'm nearly over the edge, and I want to put it in your talented little cunt."

She took her lips off the instrument. "Don't be a silly, Uncle John. I filled you full of oysters at supper. You had enough for four men, and to keep up with me tonight you only have to fuck like two, so you should have plenty of cum to spare. Now if you don't mind," and she returned to her greedy sucking. By now there was no stopping her, and in truth there was no stopping me. My hands clutching her head, her hands working up and down the shaft of my cock, feeding it in and out of her lips, my hips barrelling back and forth, shoving the meat to her whether she wanted it or not (and everything tended to prove that she did), we were far down that road which has no turning.

There was a telltale quivering at the tip of my penis. "Hold on, Dianna," I called, and for reply she tightened the grip of her hands and stepped up the pace of her sucking. "It's coming," I warned her, as I felt the boiling rush of semen in my balls reach the point of explosion.

And then I shoved my cock as far into her mouth as I could drive it without choking the girl-child and the juices raced from my testicles up the length of my rod and burst from the slotted tip like lava from Vesuvius. She gave a choked and muffled cry as the first squirt raced across her lolling tongue and then her mouth was filled with my cum. I held her head tightly, forcing her to accept every drop be it her will or not. She drank hungrily at the fount of human life, making great lustful gulping noises as she swallowed the hot cream that comes only from the bull of the species.

"Oh God, girl," I breathed in a voice that did not mask the delicious agony of orgasm, "drink my cum, be drunk by my cum." The digging of my fingers in the roots of her hair must have been painful to her but she gave no sign of it as she sucked and teased at the tip of my cock, draining from it the totality of its load.

CHAPTER FIVE

When she had finished sucking me dry Dianna let my cock slide from her dripping lips with a little swoosh sound. Then with a giggle she caught hold of my shorts and pulled them all the way off.

"I forgot about these," she chuckled. "Your cock turned me on so much I left them hanging around your knees."

"I didn't even notice," I assured her.

Dianna lay back on the floor and gave me a big open-mouthed smile. I could see little globules of white cum on her tongue and teeth. She raised her arms to me and I dropped to her side. Her little breast seemed to leap into my palm and I cupped it gently, hefting its apple-sized and shaped roundness.

She put a hand on my neck and drew my face to hers and we kissed again. The tantalizing stabs of her tongue into my mouth aroused me and I began to squeeze her little tit with a vengeance, kneading the soft flesh brutally. That turned her on even more and she increased the erotic play of her mouth on mine. I caught a nipple between two fingers and pinched it viciously but lovingly.

"Oooooh," she moaned into my open mouth, pressing her chest forward that I might not lose my grip on the rock-hard point of her baby boob. There was a stirring in my loins and I felt my cock begin to rise once more, shoving its bulk against the fluffy mound of her cunt. She felt it too and pushed her cunt at me, relishing the friction of my cock brushing her labia.

"I think it's bedtime," she whispered to me. "Don't you think we ought to turn in? It's been a busy day."

"It's going to be a busy night too, I'm afraid," I promised her.

"Goody, goody," she purred.

And so we arose from the floor and she led me upstairs, her hand caressing my penis, and we came again to her bedroom. The bed was still rumpled from our bout of the afternoon, but it would be more disordered still before we had finished the work appointed us.

Dianna melted into my arms like jelly as we stood beside the bed. "Rape me, Uncle John," she begged in a low throaty voice. "Throw me on the bed and fuck me to pieces."

With such a sincere invitation how could I refuse to do her will? After all, I was a guest in this house. So I picked her up in my arms, bent my head to kiss a peaking pink nipple, and tossed her onto the bed like a sack of flour. Then I threw myself into the fray after her.

She gave a mock squeal of fright and wriggled as if to escape me. I caught her by the leg and dragged her back to me, then pinned her to the bed, my arms locking her elbows down, my legs spreading hers apart.

"So you want to play games with my passion?" I hissed in imitation of an old time movie villain. "Well, I'll show you what games are all about, my proud beauty!" And I bent to kiss her cannibalistically, nipping ever so gently with my teeth at her nose tip and chin and cheeks and lips.

"Please, sir," she said ingenuously, "I'm a good girl. I've never done anything like this before."

"A likely story," I sneered, lacking only a thin mustache and a free hand to twirl it with. "A likely story indeed."

I nuzzled her neck with my hot open mouth, sucking at her flesh till it left a little red mark. Then I kissed my way across her collarbone onto her tanned chest.

"Please, sir," she said to the top of my head, "don't force your vile schemes upon the lovely innocence of my maidenly breasts!"

"Hah!" I bellowed, and took a nipple between my teeth, grinding it ever so slightly. An almost electric shock seemed to run through her body and I felt her begin to shake and tremble in anticipation. Then I fastened my gluttonous lips upon the pink aureole and sucked it into my mouth. She had a salty taste that thrilled me to the marrow and I nursed at her youthful mammary as if it were a desert oasis and I a lost prospector.

In order to pass further down her body it was necessary to release her arms but by the time I did so she seemed to have forgotten that we were enacting a charade of the violation of virginity. As I kissed and licked the vale between her round young tits her hands cuddled my head and held me close.

"How so your actions, girl?" I said. "Methinks you seemed unwilling at first."

"Oh, sir," she simpered, "the very touches you are giving to my tender poor body fill me with sensations I cannot begin to describe. I know not whether I should resist you."

"Aha!" I chortled and licked my way into her tiny navel. She cooed at my tongue's action and began to roll her hips a little beneath me.

A touch of my fingers assured me that her pussy was already wet so I passed it by for the time being, barring only the touch of my fingertips to her thrusting clitoris. I moved my attention some inches below her cunt that I might lick and tease her inner thighs. Beginning at her knees I kissed and slurped my way up her legs, working to the fringes of her beaver on each side. She was ecstatic by now, moaning and purring, and our game of rapist and victim was completely forgotten.

I lifted her hips a little and commenced kissing her perineum, nibbling at the tender flesh that lay between her cunt and asshole. She shrieked at the first tentative bite I gave her and I stepped up my action. When she was squirming but good and the moist drippings from her pussy drenching her crotch hair I put my fingers on the cheeks of her soft round ass and spread them just a little.

Then I dipped my tongue into her brown hole, like the flicking of a snake snapping up an unwary insect. In, out, in, out, in, out-just like one two three.

'I'm coming! I'm coming!" she screamed and I let her ass down onto the bed to shove my middle finger into her pussy. She squeezed it as expertly as she had my thrusting cock earlier in the afternoon and I stabbed it into her again and again as she battled her way through orgasm.

And then before she had stopped coming I rubbed Dianna's clitoris once more, this time barbarically and brutally, and she threw herself deeper and deeper into the quicksand of her roiling emotions. From her swan-like throat came only guttural moans and grunts and her little breasts wobbled and shook as though they were made of jello.

Her legs were still spread wide and her pussy lay open like a gaping wound in her velvet-soft flesh. Without a moment to spare I perched myself above her, my fingers grasping the stiff sword of my erection, and then plunged home to the hilt.

"OH GOD!!!" she screeched as our bodies smashed together, the words tom from her throat. On the second stroke she wrapped her legs tightly around the small of my back and we fucked each other for dear life, neither of us making a sound beyond the grants and groans of her continuous orgasm and my hoarse panting as I stabbed her again and again. The swishing of my cock in and out of her clutching sucking vagina seemed loud as the constant swell of waves pounding against ocean shores.

Dianna's fingers beat a tattoo on my back as we screwed, and I felt her nails dig into me despairingly as she surrendered to the orgasmic currents that were driving her young body hither and yon with no control possible.

And then I felt myself hovering and weaving upon the brink of total release. I knew that a few more strokes-three or four at most-would spill my cum into the churning depths of her uterus, and I wasn't ready yet. Abruptly I stopped my pile driving and lay softly against her.

"No," she moaned, "no, no, don't stop-please don't stop-"

I kissed her trembling lips and pulled myself up, still caught within the grip of her entwined legs. My stiff cock, yearning for the pleasure of shooting its heavy load of love-juices, emerged unwillingly from its warm nest.

"Give me your hand, Dianna," I commanded, and she weakly flopped a hand to me. I fastened it round the head of my peter. "Squeeze it three times," I said, and she did, her eyes glazed and not even looking at me. The pressure of her uncomprehending fingers should give me the freedom I sought from a too-premature ejaculation.

Now I lifted her ass from the bed once more, and bent her legs forward. I attached her hands to them behind the knees and she held them up robotically, al though I could see that she was still in her own world of climax bliss and knew not what I was about to do.

With her ass up, I rubbed my hands in the soaking mass of her pussy and wiped them on my cock. When it was gleaming wet I placed the head against her anal orifice and gave a tentative poke.

She stiffened at once and involuntarily closed tight the opening I meant to penetrate.

"Relax, Dianna," I said, and dipped a finger to her clitty button. She thrilled to the roughness of my touch and her body began to tremble a little. The tenseness that had momentarily entered her face when my cock touched her asshole disappeared to be replaced by a madonna-like smile, and the pushing head of my cock found an easy entrance for its lubricated length.

I slid the head inside her ass, very slowly, to accustom her to the presence of this foreign body. She cooperated by relaxing herself as much as possible, and I let another inch or two slip into her. Gradually the entire shaft of my peter found its way into Dianna's ass and I lay for a moment with my body pressed tightly against hers.

"Ummmm," she said softly in a faraway voice, "that feels real nice."

With that as my cue I began to pump and drive.

"AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!" she screamed. "You bastard! You're splitting me open!" I continued to fuck her in the ass without mercy. She had asked for it earlier in the night and she was getting it now.

"Don't!" she pleaded. "Stop-please stop-don't-don't-stop-don't-OOOOOHHH!!!" and then as she grew more attuned to the probing of my not-to-be-denied peter she changed her song just a little. The "OOOOOHHH!" of pain and protest became a melodic "Oooooohhh!" of contentment, and she began to work her loins in an effort to counterpoint my efforts.

The tightness of her hole was excruciating and my cock seemed to be caught in an ever-narrowing vise, but the pleasure and pain walked hand in hand and I knew that nothing short of the trump of judgment day would stop me from squirting my boiling seed in this tender asshole. When the point of no return loomed ahead I pushed on unheeding, stepping up the tempo of my stroking, determined to ride my pleasure to its ultimate satisfaction in the body of the delightful maiden who writhed beside me.

When I knew that I was on the verge of total release I pulled my cock back, nearly all the way out of her, with only the head caught between the edges of her hole, and halted there for a moment until I was sure that the sperm had already begun its rush up from my balls. Then I drove forward like a cannonball, burying the whole of my seven inches in her ass as the uncontrollable gush of cum broke forth like an angry river in rebellion against its banks.

I pressed tight against her round soft ass as my cock emptied itself into her sweet brown hole, stroking in and out at the last to make sure I had shot out all the cum that had been building up inside me and making my peter ache for its release.

CHAPTER SIX

The storm that had assailed Dianna's young body seemed to have blown over, but such was not the case. As I lay against her, my still-hard organ jammed to the hilt up her pert little bottom, she began to make little clucking noises in her mid-throat region that came out like an "mm, uuh, mmm," sounding murmur in perfect time with the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed raggedly. Then like the steady onrush of a locomotive her pink-capped tits fairly leapt up and down in ever-increasing tempo and the pathetic little sounds she had been giving vent to erupted into a shrieking defiant yell.

"Aaaahhhahhh!" she called to the very heavens, writhing like a madwoman in the torments of schizophrenic possession, twisting and heaving her body with such effort that I hastily extricated my aching penis from the channel of her ass, lest she in her fit break it off at the root.

I slid upward to lie beside her and cradle her body against mine in the hope of calming this unprecedented throe of passion but her poor body was exuding perspiration at such fantastic rate that she was literally un-graspable. My hands tried to grip her shoulders, arms, breasts, but each time the slick wetness of her frame caused them to slip. It was like trying to hold mercury in your hands.

Nothing else availing, I put my body next to hers hoping that the warmth and comfort of another close by might ease her through this obviously difficult experience.

"It's all right, Dianna," I chanted to her like a lullaby. "Rest your head on Uncle John's chest. That's a good girl. Rockabye, Dianna, rockabye."

My cooing in her dainty ear and the gentle stroking of my fingers in her auburn hair gradually had the desired effect. Her breathing decelerated to its more normal rate, the flush of orgasm after-orgasm stole off her body, and the sweat that covered her began to grow chilly. I wrapped her in the sheet, drying at her chest and back and thighs, fearful that the exertion and its accompanying drenching might lead to a cold or worse.

At last we lay together, she in the fold of the sheet, one breast under it, one out, and me naked beside her. Dianna's arm flopped limply to the side and she looked up at me with new admiration glimmering in her blue eyes.

"Oh, man, was that out of sight!" she exclaimed in a breathless little-girl voice. "Nobody but nobody has ever made me feel like that before. Uncle John, you are the greatest-no matter what Cassius Clay says about himself."

For answer I stroked her glossy hair. "You're pretty good yourself," I said.

"I've got a lot to learn," she replied, "but you already know it all, Uncle John. Wow, with a fucking like you can dish out, any girl would blow her nuts right off!"

She pulled my head to hers and placed a kiss on my lips-this time the affectionate buss of a sweet young girl for a favorite older relative. But that relationship seemed ridiculous in view of what we had already done; and despite what I had tried to explain to her-about the law and morality and my obligations to her parents-I knew that never again could I refuse the gift she so freely offered me. All Dianna needed to do was to crook her little finger my way and I would drop my trousers and ram my cock anywhere she wanted it. The feeling was disquieting, but I was, as the young people say, really hung up on the body and person of this girl child.

Dianna lay back on the pillow, satiated bliss in her smile and dreamy sleepy eyes, when suddenly those eyes popped wide open and her mouth gaped in surprise. She threw the cover off her and leapt to the floor, disappearing out the door in a fleshy blur of movement.

I jumped off the bed and ran after her. Was something wrong? Perhaps I had hurt her dining our anal episode. Perhaps her young ass just wasn't ready for such an adult reaming.

There was no sign of her in the hall, but a light was on in the bathroom so I threw open the door and entered, fearing that I might find her lying in a pool of blood and entrails on the floor.

Dianna sat on the commode. She looked up at me with a sheepish surprised expression. In fact, she was blushing.

"Is anything wrong, honey?" I asked solicitously.

"Gods, Uncle John," she grinned. "I guess a couple of dozen guys have promised to fuck the shit out of me, but you're the first one that ever did it."

CHAPTER SEVEN

Afterwards we lay on her bed reminiscing about the marvelous experiences we had shared today.

"Gosh, Uncle John, I don't think I'll forget this as long as I live. Just think-we sucked each other off twice, we fucked twice-if you count the time you put it in me but didn't come-and you shot at least a quart of your tasty juice into Dianna's little ass. Boy, this ought to take pages and pages of my diary just to get it all down right."

"Listen, girl," I warned her, "if you put a word of this in your diary I'll take a stick to that cute little bottom of yours."

She looked at me with mock dismay. "I was only kidding, Mr. Man. Please don't hit me. Please don't." For answer I lifted the sheet, put my head beneath it and nibbled at her delicious right tit.

"Don't start anything you can't finish," she said. Then she pulled the sheet above her head and we lay beneath it in its imitation darkness.

"I can hardly wait till tomorrow," she went on.

"Mom said she wouldn't be back until late afternoon at the earliest. I didn't tell her you were here, because I knew she'd come back right away, and there were still a few inches of your cock I wanted to fool around with. So if we get up early, we can fuck all morning and most of the afternoon and still be sparkly clean and innocent-looking when she comes in the door."

"We can't."

"What the fuck do you mean? Are you starting on that statutory whatever crap again, Uncle John?"

"No," I said. "No matter how I feel about you and what we've been doing, the law is still the law. But tomorrow you have to go to school." I stifled her angry protest with a finger across her lips. "Besides. You said the servants had today off. Doesn't that mean they'll be back on duty tomorrow?"

"Yes," she reluctantly admitted, "but there's only a cook and a maid. They don't pay any attention to what I do."

"They might pay attention if they knew you were upstairs fucking a man old enough to be your father. And they just might mention it to your mother. If only for your own good."

"Everybody knows what's good for you," she frowned. "And when you get right down to it, nobody knows shit from apple butter about what another person ought to do or not do. Why can't people just mind their own fucking business?"

"It's a natural failing of the species," I assured her. "People always try to live everyone else's life-probably as a compensation for fucking up their own."

She nodded. "That's exactly what I think. See, Uncle John. We agree on things. Have you ever considered getting married? Maybe to me? I think we were made for each other."

"If you'd been about twenty years older," I said, "or I had been twenty years or so younger. But don't let yourself mistake a sexual attraction for the kind of love that marriages are made of. Now, I think we had better get some sleep. In separate bedrooms, I'm afraid." She looked as if she were ready to protest but I went on. "Someone will get suspicious if I spend the night here and only your pretty little bed is rumpled. So I think it's best if I spend the night in a guest room."

She pouted, then brightened. "Yeah," she agreed. "That'd be okay. My bed's already pretty rumpled," and she smiled becomingly, "so we can both sleep in the guest room. No, it's okay, really. I have to get up at seven for school, and the servants don't come on duty till nine. When they get here you can tell them you're a guest and an old friend of the family, waiting for Mom to come home, and everything will be cool."

There was no gainsaying the child so I agreed to her scheme and without further ado we retired to a bedroom down the hall that was set aside for guests in the Turner home. It was only ten-thirty when we turned down the sheets on the guest bed, but the day's experiences had left me drained and weary and even Dianna's nude and shapely body curled close to mine in the softness of the bed could not rob me of my desire to get some much-needed sleep.

Dianna had mentioned the need to rise at seven, but the fact is that she had me up at six-thirty. When I say up I mean that I awakened from restful sleep to find my penis stiff and ready, nestled in the soft sweet mouth of my young admirer. She was facing away from me but some sixth sense must have told her that I was awake, for she turned to smile at me, temporarily removing her tantalizing lips from their caresses of my organ.

"Good morning, Uncle John," she beamed. "I woke up early so I thought I'd have my breakfast in bed." She returned to her suckling and because I was still a little groggy from sleep and not able to contain myself as best circumstances might require, she was soon-all too soon-rewarded with a mouthful of hot cream.

Licking her lips in satisfaction she climbed off the bed. "I better get dressed," she smiled, "so I won't be late. Back before you even know I'm gone." A dribble of cum clung to the point of her little chin until the moistness warned her, and her streaking tongue darted to lick it clean. Then she was gone, and in a few moments I heard water running and a silver-sweet girlish soprano singing "Mr. Bojangles" as Dianna bathed herself.

I lay back on the bed wondering how I could look Peggy in the face when she arrived today without my every glance telling her that I had spent the previous day fucking and sucking her beautiful underage daughter. But the morning light coming through my bedroom window was so clear and bright and fresh that the whole problem seemed insignificant. Secretly too I reflected that in a sense it was a fitting revenge.

Peggy Steele Turner had been the one true and real love of my life, and only a foolish quarrel we had had over some matter so trivial as to be totally forgotten, by me at least, had prevented me from marrying her in college. Instead she had married Tom Turner and, almost as soon as the honeymoon was over, we had fallen into bed again and stayed there. Chances were I had been into her blossoming cunt as often as Tom had; and, indeed, the first thought that swept over my mind when I heard of their divorce was the possibility that at last we might be free to marry, as we should have done years before. I supposed now that it would be impossible. Could I be a stepfather to Dianna after having fucked and sucked her royally?

Probably not. When Peggy arrived, then, I would limit myself to condolences on the divorce, best wishes for a happy life, promises never made to be kept about visits and getting together sometimes, and then take my leave and never see her again.

Dianna's return to the bedroom roused me from my musings. She flounced through the door looking radiantly at me. I did a double-take when I glimpsed her outfit. She was wearing a skintight body shirt that hugged and detailed every facet of her young chest development, the nipples standing out in the material, and the pink of the aureolae gleaming like strawberry pop stains on the tight thin fabric. Her skirt was scandalously short. Even when she was standing the white crotch of her panties projected slightly below the hem of the skirt and if you looked as closely as I did, the protrusion of a few strands of auburn hair from the panty legs was painfully apparent. From knees to feet her long young stems were enclosed in a pair of wicked leather boots that looked as if they had been ordered from a fetish catalog.

"All ready to go," she trilled, doing a pirouette for my inspection. The skirt flew up a little as she whirled, exposing the whole of her tight and skimpy panties. And I could see that they were so low-slung on her blooming hips that more of her flossy bush protruded above their top. To say the least I was shocked at her wanton display of all her young charms. It seemed much lewder than her nudity, to which I was now so accustomed.

"You mean to say," I began, "that you are going to school dressed like that?"

She looked at me bewilderingly. "What's wrong?" she asked. "I thought it was a cute outfit."

"It is indeed a cute outfit," I assured her, "but don't you think it's just a little provocative for a sixteen-year-old girl to wear to school?"

"Nearly seventeen," she cut in. "Besides-there's nothing wrong with it. This is how all the girls dress. Jesus, Uncle John, look," and she came within touching distance. "I mean, you can't really see my nips, can you? Well, you can tell what color they are, but this isn't really a see-through top. It's not made out of plastic-wrap or anything like that. It's just a cute little top."

She pulled up her skirt. "And see-I'm wearing panties underneath."

"Such panties as they are," I commented.

"Well, shit," she argued, "some of the girls don't even bother to wear them. Besides-I don't care if people can see my body. There's nothing wrong with it, is there? Huh? Is there?"

I shook my head.

"Okay," she went on. "So what if somebody gets a peek at some of the things I've got? Looking doesn't hurt. Really, Uncle John, you're acting like something from the Middle Ages or some backward time like that."

She sat down on the bed. "Would you like to kiss me goodbye?" she simpered. "You won't see me again till afternoon."

"Yes, I would like to kiss you goodbye." She bent her head and I kissed her deeply. A hand went to unbutton her body shirt and she peeled it round her titties.

"They want a kiss too, Uncle John."

I placed a kiss on each perky little point, fastening myself like a leech on the second. She pulled it from my grip at last, examining the deeper redness of it.

"Look there what you've done. You've given me a sucker bite. And I have to undress and take a shower with the other girls in my gym class today and everybody will see it."

"Fuck them," I said.

"I'll bet you'd like to," she smiled, rising and pulling the shirt around to give her tits a minimum of covering. "But you're all mine. Let them find their own Uncle Johns." She blew a kiss to me and hopped merrily out the door, pausing in the hall to remind me, "The servants come on duty before very long, Uncle John. Maybe you better go down to the rumpus room and get your clothes. See you." And she was gone, her boot heels clattering down the hall and on the stairs.

When the maid and cook arrived I was fully clad and sitting in the living room examining a recent issue of The New Yorker. I explained to them that I was a longtime friend of the Turners and had arrived yesterday. With an avuncular smile I told them Dianna wouldn't hear of her Uncle John-even if I wasn't blood kin-staying anywhere but here. I don't know whether they believed me, but they weren't being paid to question stories told by guests so they nodded, said, "Uh huh, glad to have you with us, Mr. Stevens," and went about their business.

The day seemed to wear on and on. I didn't realize how much Dianna's company had come to mean to me until I had lived through a long day without her. But at two-thirty in the afternoon the front door flung open and racing boot heels clattered through the house while an adolescent voice shrieked, "Uncle John! Uncle John! I'm home!" Then indeed all was brightness.

I was alone in the living room when she found me and she threw herself into my arms for one of those wet kisses that would have betrayed our secret to any spectator. One of her little breasts danced its way into my cupped hand and I fondled her as we stood embracing by the fireplace. The temptation to lead her upstairs and throw her ass into bed, servants or no servants, was so overwhelming that I could actually hear the two sides of my nature arguing inside my head.

Wisdom prevailed over lust, and fortunately enough, for we had been sitting on the couch necking like two teenagers instead of one and an ex-only half an hour or so when the sound of a car pulling up before the house startled us from our erotic voyage-a rowboat trip compared to the jet flights of yesterday.

I slipped my hand from beneath her skirt and she rose, hastily smoothing down her clothing to look out the window.

"Oh, fuck!" she grimaced, letting the parted curtains fall back into place. "It's Mom already."

"That's no way to talk, Dianna," I chided her. "After all, I came here to see your mother originally. You were only frosting on the cake."

"The frosting is the tastiest part," she winked. I stepped close to feel her breast for what would certainly be the last time.

"And how," I whispered, bending low to drink once for good luck at her ever-stimulating lips.

"Well," she said, "we might as well give her a little treat. No sense in me having all the fun. I'll surprise her with you."

She pulled the body shirt a little to make it cling a trifle less explicitly to the curves of her ripening breasts and went outside. I could hear her through the door as I waited in the living room.

"Hi, Mom," she called in a voice that seemed to me lacking in enthusiasm.

"Hello, dear," came Peggy's familiar voice that could still raise the hackles of my love glands. "My," she added, "is that what you wore to school today?"

"Yeah," Dianna answered in a tone that underscored her wish to discuss the subject no further.

"Whose Mercedes is that out front?" Peggy asked.

"It belongs to somebody that wants to see you about something or other. I dunno what. I think it's a salesman or some such."

Peggy sighed audibly, in a way that made it obvious she had no wish to see a salesman other than to send him packing with all his goods and wares. "Where is he?"

"In the living room," Dianna said, and I saw the door knob turn. Then she flung the door wide and Peggy entered. Our eyes met, and in them the experiences of many years' love and friendship lived anew.

How can I describe the way Peggy looked? Remember, I hadn't seen her in four years, and the memories I had to console me were mixed and mingled with all the other memories I kept of her, and the image of her that had assailed my mind off and on was made up of elements from her appearance when we were in college and during the years we were adulterer and adulteress and loving every minute of it.

She had changed, true, as we all do, but in her case it was a matter of perfection growing ever more beautiful.

The girl I had loved from our first meeting was still there, but she was now part of a woman I had not come fully to know. Peggy's birth certificate would have convicted her of being thirty-eight, but any court would have considered the physical evidence and thrown the document out.

She stood five feet eight, perhaps the perfect height for a modem woman, and her hundred and twenty-five pounds were distributed properly and pleasingly. She looked like a fashion model, from the days when fashion models still had tits and asses and weren't ashamed of them. The blue pantsuit housing Peggy's body was simple and pretty and tasteful and expensive in an unobtrusive way. The tunic top clung to her breasts without forcing them onto display and the sensation of appreciating the beauty of their full round lines lightly hugged by the fabric was all the more thrilling to the senses. And you knew as well that a stunning pair of long and shapely legs waited beneath the cloth of her slacks, much more so than if the material had clung to them like a second skin.

Between the hanging falls of champagne hair and beneath the bangs on her forehead lay a perfect heart-shaped face, the eyes blue and penetrating, the nose captivatingly button, lips of sensuous curve, and a ball of chin I wanted to kiss. It was Peggy, and she was lovely as ever, and I knew as soon as I saw her that all my soul and body craved her as much as the first time we met.

She looked at me with a mist sweeping across her lustrous eyes and we spoke each other's name softly and quietly.

For a long moment we stood motionless and then she reached out with one pale hand and I moved to take it in mine and she flew into my arms. We kissed like lovers after years of absence, which indeed we were. Behind her mother's back I could see Dianna watching us, a sardonic leer in her insolent young eyes.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Dinner was an ordeal not to be imagined. The maid had gone home after cleaning upstairs and downstairs, and the cook left once dinner was ready, so Peggy appointed herself to serve me my meal.

For dinner she had changed into a sensational gown of green that went well with her deep blue eyes and champagne-colored hair which tonight she had put up into a lovely coiffure that would have been the pride of any beauty salon. The gown was cut very low in front, its V-neckline exposing the full curves of her white breasts, and as she bent to fill my plate the perfumed aroma of her tits seemed to overwhelm me. I didn't want to eat-I wanted to free each of those breasts from its hiding place and to liberate her body from the green velvet-to lay her out upon the table or upon the carpeted luxury of the dining room floor and fuck her till she cried for mercy. So much lost time to recover.

To make matters worse, Dianna sat at my left hand and all through the meal her foot, freed of its shoe, rested on my thigh and in my lap, teasing with five tiny toes the stalk of my cock, already so hard to keep under control. A black look sent her way from time to time had no effect on her, and once her hand stole beneath the table to reach between my legs and slyly pinch the tip of my peter, causing it to rise to near full erection immediately.

How could I explain to the girl that the sight of her beautiful mother had reminded me of memories and kindled emotions in me that she could never begin to understand? Dianna was a lovely child, hot beyond belief, and undeniably possessed of a sexual drive that belied her tender years, and I had enjoyed each and every moment that we spent fucking and sucking, but I was in love with gorgeous Peggy Turner and I could not rest again until she was truly mine, as she should have been all along.

When dinner was at last over, and not a moment too soon, Peggy commanded Dianna to clean off the table and wash the dishes, With a muttered "Shit," Dianna rose and began piling plates atop one another.

"Mind your language, young lady," Peggy said in a stem yet gentle voice. Dianna grumbled something inaudible and went into the kitchen. I was glad she had left the table, as my erection was beginning to subside.

"Would you like some coffee?" Peggy asked, leaning toward me, once again providing me with a view of her generous cleavage.

"Yes, very much," I said, and we rose. The skirt of my coat hid what remained of my hard-on and we walked into the living room. Peggy deposited me in an easy chair and excused herself. In a few minutes she returned with a pot of coffee she had already brewed, put it on the low table by the sofa, and poured our drinks.

"John," she said at last, "you don't know how glad I am to see you. Did you have a pleasant trip?"

"Very," I replied. "And I rested very well last night. Dianna made me quite comfortable in the guest room."

"I'll never forgive the little hussy for not telling me you were here when I called. I'd have dropped everything and rushed home. I've missed you a great deal." Dianna appeared at the door.

"Are the dishes all finished?" Peggy asked. Dianna nodded, then started to come in the room. "You go upstairs and get to your homework, young lady. Final exams will be on you before long and you know very well that your algebra is atrocious."

"Yeah," she admitted. "Maybe Uncle John could give me a hand with it." She smiled hopefully.

"No, he can't," Peggy declared. "I know for a fact that John is terrible in mathematics." She put a hand on my knee. "Remember when we both failed freshman math in college? You helped me with my homework, didn't you?" We both laughed as we shared that painful memory. Dianna glared at us, realizing she was being left out of a mutual experience of joy.

"Now you get on upstairs," Peggy said. "I'll be up after a while to see that you're doing your algebra. And don't forget. Bedtime is ten o'clock. No extensions, either." The firmness of her tone was precisely what a parent's command should entail, but still it struck me as odd that Peggy, seeming to be an authority figure to Dianna, should know so little of what her child was capable of doing. Dianna grimaced but went upstairs. Peggy went over to the door, looked upstairs to make sure she had gone into her bedroom, then shut the door and returned to me.

"There's so much to talk about," Peggy smiled, flashing me a dazzling gleam of white pearly teeth, "that I don't know where to begin."

I shook my head. "It's been a long time since I moved to New York. So many loose ends. Like you and Tom."

"Don't even mention that, John," she said, drawing her legs up on the couch. Was it an accident that as she raised her long and lovely stems I was treated to a flash of black panty?

"Bill Paxton was in New York on some business and we had lunch together. He's the one who told me about it. Why didn't you write, let me know?"

"John, I really don't want to talk about it. Please."

"It's not something you can dismiss so easily, Peggy. After all, you and Tom were probably the best friends I ever had. We've shared so much-"

"Yes," she smirked, "you've shared me, for one thing."

"Peggy-" I began but she cut me off.

"It's true, isn't it? While Tom had my ring on his finger and his ring on mine, you had my heart in your hip pocket. Can you deny that, John Stevens?"

"I hope it's true."

"It was true, and it is true. But let's talk about something else. Remember the party at Bill Paxton's, now that you've mentioned him, when you and I got drunk and did Mills Brothers impressions, the two of us singing all four vocal parts?" She laughed helplessly.

"At least we tried," I said, laughing at the silly memory. And one step on this journey through the past led us inexorably to another, and we found ourselves dredging through our memories for other past incidents that could bring us laughter if only for a moment. And somehow the recollections were always of things the two of us had done, as if we were the only ones who mattered, who had ever mattered.

"Oh, my," Peggy said, looking at her watch. "It's past ten. I'd better go up and check on Dianna. Back in a minute, love," and she bent over me to plant a pecking kiss on my forehead before she glided out of the room in a mist of green velvet.

In a few minutes she was back. "Would you go up and kiss her goodnight, Uncle John? She's adamant on the subject-says she'll throw a sixteen-going-on-seven-teen tantrum if you don't."

"Sure," and I got up.

"It's the third room on the right, upstairs," Peggy volunteered. I already knew the way.

Dianna lay beneath her covers, awaiting me with what seemed to be eager anticipation. I could see the neck of her nightgown, so I hoped she had no monkeying around in mind.

"Hi, Uncle John. Come up to give little Dianna a goodnight kiss?"

For answer I knelt by the bed and kissed her lips softly. She wanted to insert her tongue into my mouth but it ran up against the determined barrier of my closed teeth. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"We've got to keep our heads," I whispered. "Remember, your mother is in the house. And Dianna, I fear our relationship may be nearing its end."

"You're gonna fuck her tonight, aren't you? Aren't you?" Her whisper rose to a near shriek, and I placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down.

"No," I replied, "I don't plan on fucking anyone tonight."

"Not even me?"

"Not even you."

"Shit, shit, shit." She stuck out her lower lip and looked resolutely away from me. I moved to rise to my feet but she caught my hand. "Aren't you gonna kiss little Dianna goodnight?"

"I already did."

She threw up the cover. True enough she was wearing a nightgown, but it was rolled up overtop her breasts and her body from tits to feet lay bare and inviting.

"They want a kiss too," she protested, indicating her nipples and pussy.

"Dianna-"

"Pretty please-with sugar on it."

There was nothing I could do but bend my head once more and lovingly caress with my lips and tongue the areas she wanted kissed. When I touched my lips to her cunt I felt a hand settle on the back of my head as if to hold me there till I had finished her off, but I removed the grip and arose.

"Now go to sleep, honey. You've gotta get up early in the morning."

"Are you sure you can't sneak in and screw me before you go to sleep?"

"Positive."

"Okay," she conceded. "I guess I can twiddle my clitty till I go to sleep. But tomorrow for absolutely certain."

'We'll see," I said as I moved for the door, promising myself that I would be on my way back to New York before she returned from school.

"For absolutely certain," she repeated, making sure she had the last word.

Downstairs in the living room Peggy was waiting for me. When I started for the chair I had been sitting in she caught my hand and indicated that I should sit on the couch beside her. I sat myself down and she looked at me in a tender longing way. No, I told my conscience. Yesterday I debauched-or was I debauched by?-her teenaged daughter. Even today before the child left for school, she had felt herself impelled to suck me off. I couldn't compound the enormity by screwing Dianna's mother as well.

"John," she said in a voice that seemed to verge on fear and trembling, "I think it's finally time to talk."

"About you and Tom?"

"About me and Tom and you. I think you know that you are as much a part of this as Tom or I. After all-you were my very first lover, and the very best. In spite of the fact that I only have Tom to compare you with. And when I say lover I don't mean just in the sense of bedmate.

"John, this is the age of women's liberation. When we were young and silly girls had to wait for the boys to make the first move, but we've finally learned that women are people too. And because I'm a woman and not a dippy girl any more, I can talk to you the way I should have-oh, it seems like centuries ago!"

"Peggy, don't say anything that you might have cause to be sorry for later."

"The only time I've said anything that made me sorry later was when I told the preacher 'I do' and he pronounced me and Tom man and wife. Now you listen to me, John. I've wasted the best years of my life in a mistake, but I'm not going to let the rest of them go down the same drain.

"When you leave here, John, I am going with you. As your wife if you will have me, and as your slut if you won't marry me. We belong to each other and now, now that I'm finally free of Tom-oh, you wouldn't believe what he was like the last year or two. It was hell on earth for me living with him. Where was I? Oh, yes, now that I'm free of Tom, we can belong to each other fully, the way it was meant to be. Do you understand me?"

The trouble was that I did. Too well. She was asking for something that, before my episodes with Dianna, I would have been only too glad to give her. Now it was too late, and no matter how much pain and regret it would cause me later, I had no choice but to refuse her.

I tried to throw a red herring into her path. "What about Dianna?" I asked.

"What about her?" she replied. "The child idolizes you." And how, I thought. "She always has, even when she was in diapers. There wouldn't be any problem with her. Would there? Or would you be unwilling to take another man's child into your home? Is that it, John?"

"No," I protested. "I love Dianna very much. She's always been my favorite niece, even if it's only honorary."

"She's not much trouble," Peggy continued. "I should tell you that she was expelled from school for smoking pot, but all the kids do that nowadays. It's just a fad, like phone booth stuffing when we were in college. Tom always wanted to send her off to those damned prissy boarding schools, but thankfully I was able to put a stop to that.

"And for the most part she's a lovely and loving child." Boy, was she a loving child! "I'm trying to overcome the effects of all those years when she was away from home, and I think I'm succeeding. Of course she's not perfect. I'm pretty sure she's been had." Had she ever! "But that's just like the pot smoking. All the kids are doing it so early these days. I remember very well that I kept my virginity until I was almost nineteen, but those were different times." By now she was absent-mindedly stroking my inner thigh as she talked. The sweeping brushes of her soft hand were coming perilously close to my penis, and the very proximity of her gentle touch was having an effect on my organ that I hoped she wouldn't notice. But her eyes were focused on my face and she was talking about something important to her, so I doubted if she would see that at least part of me was thinking about something very different from moonlight and roses conversation.

"Dianna means more to me than anything else in the world, except you," Peggy went on. "So tell me-would you be unwilling to have her live with us?"

This seemed to me an unfair question. I hadn't yet conceded that Peggy would be living with me. But before I could answer, the very thing that I had feared came to pass. Her hand slid along my thigh and came into contact with my rampant cock. Her eyes widened and she gave it another feel to make sure.

"Did I cause that?" she asked innocently. And without waiting for my reply she deftly unzipped my trousers and fished it forth. It stood up for her like a vain and spoiled pet, and she stroked its length appreciatively. "Hello, little fellow," she simpered. "Haven't seen you in a long, long time. How have you been?" She smiled up at me. "Has he been getting his exercise?"

"Peggy," I pleaded.

Oblivious to my entreaty, she let her head slide against my ribs as she played with my cock as though it were a brand new toy instead of an old, old friend.

Idly her hand began to jack it up and down and I felt my unwilling hips joining the rhythm her touch was beating out. As she stroked me off her tongue would flick out and lick at some exposed portion of the stalk or head. Peggy had always been gifted with digital talents, among her many others, and when she wanted she could have me reduced to an ejaculating mass of satiated flesh within minutes. I didn't want that now. I needed to keep a clear head.

As she masturbated me she continued her monologue. "Dianna means a great deal to me, John, love. If you take me, you'll have to take her as well." Again that tongue swish across the rim of the head, and then a dip into the slot from which I was all too aware that a stream of cum would very soon erupt.

"I remember so well the night she was conceived, John. It was in October 1957. What I remember best about it is-" and another flick and dip. The head of my cock was now so tender I feared the friction of her fingers jacking up and down might burst open the gates of my love-juice.

"What I remember best," she continued, "is that it was the second night of that trip Tom made to Indianapolis to buy machinery for the plant. Remember?"

I wasn't thinking clearly at all now. My testicles were swelling with the fury of the sperm they were churning into existence, and unless my cock shot its load soon, I knew that the sack in which my balls floated would blow itself right out of my crotch. Still I managed to make an effort at conversation.

"I think I remember it," I said, "but I didn't think you went with him."

"I didn't," she muttered, closing her lips over the red bulging tip of my peter for the briefest and most excruciating instant imaginable.

"Wait a minute," I said, collecting my thoughts, "if you didn't go with him to Indianapolis, then how could you have conceived Dianna the second night he was gone?"

"Silly," she said, tightening the grip of her warm fist in a way that made me ache with joy from head to toe, "don't you remember anything? You came over and spent the night and we got into bed and-"

The room was crashing around me as my cock began to squirt its tremendous load. Peggy watched in awe as the initial jolt sent a gob of cum high into the air and then she buried my penis in her mouth to drink deep of the juices barreling forth. A firm and experienced squeeze of her fingers followed by a quick one-two jacking of the loose skin emptied the barrel of my gun and she swallowed this last fillip with a smack of delight.

Then she looked up at me from where her head lay in my lap, her fingers holding my penis, still erect in its post-orgasmic pride. I was numb from the release and from fear of what she would say next. Please, God, I prayed silently, don't let her say what I think she is going to say.

"Remember?" she insisted. "We got into bed and didn't get out for a couple of days? And we made love in every shape and form that the human mind could comprehend-not to mention a couple that it couldn't begin to imagine-and my cunt was sore for days afterward? Remember?"

Exhausted spiritually, I leaned back against the plushly upholstered sofa. "Then you mean that-"

She nodded eagerly, a smile that would have been entrancing had I been able to appreciate it sweeping across her lovely face. "Now you understand me, John! Tom isn't Dianna's real father. You are!!"

CHAPTER NINE

Peggy tucked my now limp and useless prick back inside my trousers and zipped me up.

"Really," she went on, "I'm surprised you hadn't guessed it long before. Or had you?"

"No," I forced myself, "it's news to me."

"Men can be the most unperceptive things," she said to the room at large. "Couldn't you even see the resemblance between you and Dianna? I think it's fantastic!"

I remembered that Dianna had asked me if I didn't think we looked alike-yesterday when we had just finished our sixty-nine by the pool and were standing naked side by side watching our reflections in the mirror surface of the shimmering waters. Hastily I summoned a mental picture of Dianna, banishing as best I could the waking dream of Peggy that had filled my every thought since our reunion. Did we look alike?

"No," I said at last. "I can't see a resemblance."

"Well," she conceded, "perhaps I think you look alike because I love the two of you more than anything else in the world. I might be wrong, but, John, every time I look at the girl I can see you. And I think of all the good times we had, the love we shared-the love I hope we can share again, and for all time."

She pulled herself up to rest her head on my shoulder. The softness of her champagne hair tickled my cheek and it seemed that we were once again young and naive, talking of the future that once had been within our grasp. Idly my hand slipped beneath the long skirt of her gown to rub and grip her strong thigh.

Instantly her hand dived beneath the skirt to clasp mine and pull it from its tender resting place.

"Please," she said, "not until we're married. A nice girl doesn't let men take liberties with her, not if she expects to stay a nice girl." The kittenish coquetry of her words, spoken with the mock innocence of some grade-A cockteasers I had known, was so appealing I went along with her game.

"Do nice girls play with a guy's dick?" I protested. "Isn't that taking liberties too?"

"Well," she simpered ingenuously, "men need special privileges. If they don't get a little action, they'll drop a girl like a hot potato. Besides, I was afraid you might hurt yourself if you got too aroused and didn't get any relief."

"There's more to it than that," I said. "You got to play with me. Don't I get to play with you too?"

"Gee," she burbled, "I guess it's only fair. But don't get fresh with me, and don't go beneath my waist. A girl has to have some morals."

She sat up and reached behind herself to unhook and unzip her green dress. The material fell free and settled down her arms, leaving her clad in a pale blue bra, cut very low in front with the inner curves of her lush full breasts exposed. I touched her little garment, rubbing my fingers across the nipple that lay so thinly covered its brown smear was almost totally visible through the thinness of the fabric.

My hands stole behind her to unclasp the brassiere.

"Please," she whispered, "I'm only a poor helpless girl trying her best to please you. I couldn't resist you if I wanted to because this damned dress is binding my arms, but I should warn you that the bra I'm wearing closes at the front."

I looked closely and she was right. There was a little hook between the cups on the tiny band of elastic that joined them. I undid it and pushed the transparent cups off her melon-firm sugar-sweet tits.

It had been so long since I had sucked at their straining piercing nipples that I had nearly forgotten how rich and tasty and erotically fulfilling they were. Peggy's breasts were as beautiful as the last time I had seen their nude splendor-if anything they were more beautiful-and if I drank at them like a drowning man, then drowning is a death I should wish to die a million times.

She held my head, despite her excuse about her arms being immobilized, and cradled me to her like an infant whose suckling has unexpectedly aroused an erotic response in its mother. The pressure of her hands was smothering me, my open mouth straining to ingest as much of her round white tit as I could, and me unable to pull myself away if I wanted to. And while I suckled at one of her honey jugs my hand clutched and clawed at the other, pinching and kneading the sensitive nipple as it erected further and further and further till I could have sworn it must be jutting halfway across the room.

Though she pressed me so tightly against her ample breast I found it difficult to breathe; in a way it was well that she did, for as I continued to suck relentlessly and to fondle without remorse, her torso began to shake and sway like the deck of a ship on stormy seas, and her hands made certain that I did not lose my targets.

Then Peggy came, in the quick-gasping mewing way she expressed her arrival at sexual nirvana, and her fingers dug at my hair for a moment or two, then fell off limply. I released her beautiful breasts from my carnal grasp and lay with my head in. her lap. For a few minutes we communed in silence, reflecting on the feelings we had both known tonight.

At last, and I mourned to see it, she reluctantly applied still-trembling fingers to mold her full breasts inside the material of her bra, and then returned her dress to the position in which it was meant to be worn.

A soft hand stole down to caress my cheek as I lay nestled close to the warmth of her womanhood.

"You see, John," she said softly, "we're as good as ever."

"Better, maybe," I volunteered.

"I'm glad you agree," she smiled. "Now will you make an honest woman of me and give my child a name?" Weighing the situation candidly in my churning mind I decided that perhaps she was right. No matter what I had done to-or more honestly, with-Dianna yesterday, that was yesterday and today was today and tomorrow would be something else altogether.

Indeed, the sexual byways Dianna and I had explored, so grievous a sin by every token of our heritage and its traditions, could perhaps be expiated if I placed myself in the position of her father, if I took upon myself the burdens that were mine by right. And I could be secure in my attempts to lead her properly from henceforth into womanhood, knowing that the love of the finest woman of all was mine for all time.

"What about the people in Richvale?" I asked, in an attempt to get all the cards onto the table. "What will they say if you divorce Tom one day and marry John the next?"

"Fuck them and their narrow little minds," she said angrily. "I don't care what anyone thinks. The chance has come and I won't let it pass. Don't you feel that I deserve some happiness for a change?"

"Of course," I assured her. "Do you want to keep on living here?"

"I'll live wherever you want to live, John. You remember what that woman said in the Bible? 'Whither thou goest, I will go.' That's how I feel. You own that apartment in New York. Shall we live there?"

"Absolutely not," I replied. "The big city is no place for a young girl like Dianna to grow up. I'll sell the apartment. It cost me $85,000 and I know I can get nearly double that for it. And we'll buy ourselves a house in Westchester County or in Connecticut and I can become a regular suburban commuter."

"I can help too," she said. "The house is mine by the divorce settlement, but I don't want it. I think it should bring at least $100,000 on the market."

"Look, Peggy," I told her, "I can afford to buy us a house."

"Consider it my dowry," she smiled. "I have some cash too, but the price of this little palace is my marriage gift to you. After all, I'm going to live in whatever house you choose, and I want to make sure we can take our pick."

Something else crossed my mind. "What about Dianna? Do you want to send her off to school again or not?"

"Not," she chose. "If it's all right with you we'll keep her with us and send her to a regular public school in the town we decide to settle down in, and we'll all be one happy family together."

"And when do we tell her just how much of a family we really are?"

"Oh, not too soon. Let her get accustomed to the fact that Tom is gone. I don't think she'll have any trouble accepting you as a stepfather, but I don't believe we should tell her that you're her real, biological father until she's a little older, when it won't be so much of a shock. Don't you agree?"

I nodded. That might be the best thing for all of us. To tell her now that the man she had spent a day of lecherous bed play with. was in truth her own father might unhinge her mentally. It would be best to let time roll by for a while, till the experience was no longer so fresh, and then tell her, once she had had a few years to evaluate her feelings and learn more of what life was all about.

"Okay," Peggy said. "So when do we make it legal?"

It would have to be delayed a little while, I thought. There were a couple of important cases on my desk from which I had stolen the time to come down here. Even though I was senior partner in the firm there were still obligations on my part to every client we handled. A month ought to get things cleared up, and then we would have the whole summer to start learning how to be a family.

"How about the second Saturday in June?"

"Great," she smiled. "Dianna will be finished with her school year by then. And that will give me time to line up a buyer for the house."

"I really love you," I said, kissing her softly and getting to my feet, "but I'd better get to bed so I can head back for New York early. There's a lot of work I must get out of the way before the second Saturday in June."

"I love you too," she whispered, "and I wish we could just pile ourselves onto the same bed and fuck till the sun comes up. But I'm afraid Dianna might not understand."

And so we wended our way to our separate bedrooms and slept-restlessly in my case at least, for my every thought was of Peggy and the life we would soon begin together.

Early next morning I was awakened by the gentle tug of fingers at the waistband of my shorts. I opened my eyes to see that my covers had been thrown off and Dianna was getting herself ready for action. Her hand insinuated itself round my peter, teasing it to erection, and her lips brushed mine for a kiss all the more tantalizing in its brevity.

Forcefully I removed her clutching grip and caught her by the shoulders, standing her up to her full length as I rose from the bed to face her.

If yesterday's costume for school had been daring, today's was outrageous. She wore a pair of slacks so tight they clung noticeably to the lips of her young crotch, topped with a blouse distinguished for its unbelievably deep V-neckline, slashed as it was to her navel. For the life of me I couldn't imagine what kept her tits from popping into the wide separation and placing themselves on display one after the other, for all the world to see and admire. Then I realized that one of the advantages of a blouse like this one for the young girls of today was the fact that from time to time a breast would inexorably poke its way out.

Indeed, as I held her fast to prevent any of what she liked to call "fooling around," the material of her top slipped a little and one round small breast did come into plain sight.

"No," I said to the angry girl, "we can't."

"Why the shit can't we?" she pouted. "I've been waiting so hard I could bust. You promised!!"

"I didn't promise you anything," I contradicted. "I told you 'We'll see.' That's not a promise."

"Next thing to a promise," she grumped, going slack in my grip. I let her go.

"It is not." She folded her arms, first securing the stray bare tit, and watched me through narrowed eyes as I dressed.

"Tonight, then," she asserted. "When Mom goes to bed so do we."

"I won't be here tonight," I replied, stuffing my shirt inside my trousers.

"Why not?"

"I have to return to New York today."

"Can I come up and see you in New York? This weekend? I'll run away from home and we can shack up till they find me. And that may be a long, long time!"

I paid her temptations no heed. "Is your mother awake yet?"

"Sure. She's downstairs in the kitchen having breakfast. And I've got half an hour to spare. We could still blow each other at least, if you wanted to." Her tone was more hopeful than optimistic.

"We'd better go downstairs now, then," I told her.

Sulking all the way she trailed me to the kitchen. Peggy, looking positively radiant in a sleeveless blouse and short shorts that left her long strong legs bare from crotch to toes, was pouring herself a cup of coffee. I had forgotten that she was so beautiful even without the makeup she knew how to use to perfection.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," she trilled musically.

"The morning is good to you," I commented with a wolf whistle. She purred and bowed at the compliment. Dianna looked wonderingly at us.

"Sit down, kitten," Peggy told the bemused teenager. "Uncle John and I would like to talk to you."

"Not another goddamned lecture, I hope," Dianna muttered ominously as she plopped herself down in a chair.

"Isn't that a rather daring outfit?" Peggy commented sharply as she looked into the V-neck, widened by the sloppy posture of her seated daughter. A nipple toyed and dueled with the edge of the V slash, threatening at any moment to spring to release. Dianna's only answer was to catch the garment, pulling it to a more modest exposure.

"All the girls are dressing like that," Peggy said to me. "Some of them would be just as clothed if they went out nude." I smiled but made no comment.

"What is it?" Dianna asked. "I've got to go to school."

"You've got plenty of time before the school bus comes," Peggy informed her. "And this is important."

"Well, hurry it up," Dianna scowled. "The bus may be early today and I don't want to miss it."

"If you'd stop wasting time," Peggy said archly, "we would tell you what we want to tell you. John, why don't you take the lead?"

"Well, Dianna," I began, "I think you already know that your mother and I have been very close friends for many, many years. Last night we did some quite serious talking about our lives-all of our lives-" Dianna was looking incredulously at both of us now, and I think she knew what was coming.

Peggy cut in excitedly, "Dianna, honey, your Uncle John and I are going to be married the second Saturday in June. And then we're all going to live somewhere around New York-either in Connecticut or in Westchester County."

"While I get sent to one of those shitty boarding schools, right?"

"Of course not, baby," said Peggy, moving to Dianna's side and cradling the girl's head against her breast. I envied Dianna's position and proximity to those full, swelling, ample mounds of delight and sexuality. "Uncle John and I both agreed that we want you with us all the time. We'd no sooner send you away than we would live apart ourselves."

"Really?" The eyes that repeated the question to each of us in turn were filled with longing and hope.

"Really and truly," we both replied at almost the same instant.

"We're gonna be one family? All of us?"

"Sure, honey," and Dianna's head rested gladly against her mother's round tit. "We both love you and we want all of us to be happy."

I looked at Dianna closely. Perhaps the problem was already finding its own solution. There seemed to be no resentment in her face that I was marrying her mother. Indeed, she appeared to be nearly as delighted at the prospect as Peggy and I both were.

CHAPTER TEN

I was nervous as a cat on the day of my wedding. The prospect of ending a lifetime of bachelorhood was exciting, not to mention the promise of true love with Peggy that was about to come into reality, but still there was an undercurrent of doubt and fear that must approach any man in a similar situation.

Everything was taken care of by the second Saturday in June. I had made the final arrangements in all the cases I was handling personally, and was ready to take off most of the summer, appearing at the office only when absolutely necessary. The condominium apartment in town had been sold, and Peggy had informed me a month before that she had signed the papers to sell the Turner house here in Richvale. The total amount of the two sales came to a little over $300,000, and I had already bought and partially furnished a superb two-story home in Burgerswyck, a plush residential suburb of New York, lying up the Hudson in Westchester County. By the time Peggy and I returned from our brief honeymoon the house should be fully ready for occupancy.

The ceremony was to be small and quiet. The living room at the Turner home had been decorated with flowers and chairs had been placed for the convenience of the few invited guests. Afterwards there would be cake and punch in the rumpus room, and then, no doubt with eager anticipation shining from our faces, Peggy and I would be off to spend two or three days at a friend's hunting lodge in the mountains as a prelude to what we both hoped would be a honeymoon lasting the rest of our lives.

I arrived in Richvale late Friday afternoon. Everything was in a bustle. Peggy and Dianna were rushing about getting their hair fixed, last-minute alterations on their dresses, and the like. I had asked Bill Paxton to be my support and so, to keep me out of the way of the busy preparations, he took me out for a few drinks to celebrate.

Dianna and I didn't see much of each other that first day. Peggy kept her running and there was only the chance for a few meaningful glances on the young girl's part-glances whose import I did not like in the least. When Bill dropped me off at the Turner house that night I made my way upstairs and locked myself into the guest room I was to occupy for the last time and settled myself down for an evening's restful sleep-the last of my bachelorhood.

Because the affair would be informal I didn't have to worry about a tuxedo, so I was able to sleep a little late Saturday morning. The ceremony was set for eleven, so I prepared my alarm for nine. When the buzzer went off I yawned restfully, then climbed out of bed and went into the adjoining bathroom to take a quick piss. Almost before I was finished the cook brought up my breakfast, so I settled down for a leisurely morning meal before getting dressed and ready.

After I finished my coffee I laid out the clothes I would be wearing during the ceremony and went into the convenient cubbyhole of a bathroom to shave and shower. The water was hot and pleasant and I soon found myself lathered like a sweating horse and singing a merry little tune.

I came out of the shower, dried off, shaved, and went back into the bedroom, clad only in a towel thrown round my shoulders. I picked up my clean shorts and had put one leg into them when the door swung open and without a word of warning Dianna entered.

She was dressed for the wedding, clad in a short-skirted yellow outfit. Peggy had asked her to be maid of honor and clearly she would be a lovely attendant But the important matter was not her appearance but her very presence.

"Dianna," I said in a low terrified whisper, "get out of here this instant!"

"My," she commented drily, "you're up early."

It wasn't true when she said it, but the frankness with which she appraised my body and especially my prick was having a noticeable effect on the latter organ. I held the towel in front of me. She paid no attention but stepped to my side and slipped her fingers behind the towel to tease my erect hardness.

"Everybody kisses the bride," she smiled, "but I came to kiss the groom." And she knelt, flinging aside the puny barrier I had thrown in her way, to suckle the tip of my peter between her captivating lips.

"Dianna, you must be insane!" I protested, seizing her head in an attempt to pull it from its leech-like attachment. She tightened her grip, locking her sharp teeth behind the bulbous head of my cock. A false move on my part could cause me great physical damage right now, so I desisted in my efforts to free myself.

Without removing her mouth from its impalement upon my shaft Dianna jerked the towel from my unresisting fingers and draped it round her own neck-evidently to prevent cum drips on her bridesmaid dress.

Then she began her suction in earnest, her mouth working on me like a vacuum cleaner. In less time than it takes to tell about it her expert mouth action had coaxed my dick to a gushing flow of semen that poured down her throat like a river.

Smacking her lips, Dianna dried her mouth on the towel she had appropriated and then rose. Her breath smelt strongly of cum as she moved in for one of those sucking soul kisses she enjoyed so much.

"There," she whispered into my mouth. "Wasn't that nice?"

"Dianna, I hope you enjoyed that little episode very much because I want you to understand that-"

"Please, Uncle John, don't start that shit again. It's okay with me if you wanta marry Mom and drive it up her crack every now and then. Just save some for me too. I bet we're gonna be one hell of a happy fucking family." And she smiled wickedly.

"You don't understand," I tried again. "We can't do this-"

She seemed determined not to let me finish. It was almost as if she knew exactly what I planned to tell her-that she and I were finished as fuck mates for all time-and so she changed the subject.

"They say that brides are supposed to have something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue. I know Mom's already got all the others, and now she's really gonna have something blew, and that's you, Uncle John. Maybe that suck off will last you through the ceremony. See you," she sang, dancing out the door in a puff of yellow.

I went into the bathroom to rid my cock of any remaining semen traces. The hopelessness of the situation I was in settled upon my brow like the weight of the ages and for a few minutes I seriously considered going to Peggy and calling off the wedding. If I fell prey to Dianna's temptations so easily now, in a house preparing for a gala celebration of marriage, what would I not do when we were thrown together each and every day in our new life as a family? And to make matters worse, much of my initial repugnance at letting a girl who didn't even know she was my own blood daughter suck my cock had vanished as she fellated me, and by the time I spilled my cum into her gulping throat I had been actively enjoying the experience.

At last I managed to dress and made my way downstairs. There I greeted the minister and the handful of guests, noting with irony that Dianna was fluttering about the house like a chaste little messenger of good will, stopping to chat here and there, flashing brilliant toothy smiles to all, and looking ineffably demure and virginal in her yellow frock.

The ceremony went as well as could be expected. Once or twice I caught a look from Dianna as we all stood before the minister, and that look presaged all my deepest fears.

After the rings were exchanged and the nuptial knot tied we adjourned to the rumpus room where toasts were drunk all around to the future happiness of the new family, and each of us, John and Peggy Stevens and the smiling lovely stepchild Dianna Turner, arose to acknowledge appreciation of the kind wishes.

The guests had made their departures and Peggy and I were ready to take our own. Dianna assured her mother that she would be perfectly all right here by herself till Tuesday, when we were due to return, and that she would spend the time in preparing for the imminent move to our new home in Burgerswyck.

"You're sure you can handle things?" Peggy queried one last time. Dianna's answer was a patronizing smile that seemed to say, Gods, mother, I'm sixteen going on seventeen and you think I'm still a child or something. "All right, then," Peggy said, and bent to kiss Dianna's waiting lips. She turned to the door and the seductive teenager raised her mouth to me.

I put my lips to her, closed and puckered, only to find them engulfed by her wet open mouth. Hastily I pulled myself away and, before Peggy could turn to see, wiped Dianna's saliva from my face.

She looked at me with what everyone called a "shit-eating grin" when I was younger, and said, "I can hardly wait till you get back and we all find out what it's like to live together."

"Come on, John, we'd best be on our way," Peggy called. "Dianna, be good. We'll see you Tuesday, more than likely." And we went out the door. As I looked back up to the house I saw Dianna standing in the doorway, one hand absently rubbing a breast through the yellow outfit.

The self-recriminations that had overwhelmed my conscience after Dianna's surreptitious visit to my room gradually left me as Peggy and I motored our way toward the lodge that would be our honeymoon haven. By the time we were driving up the private road that led to the rustic cabin perched high up the side of a wooded mountain, I was feeling very differently. Peggy's hand rested gently on my thigh, making no overt erotic attempts but only reminding me that she was present, that she was capable of sensuous understatement, and that from now on she and I belonged to one another.

She went into the lodge first, and I followed with the bag of groceries we had brought along. I deposited it in the kitchen and started back for our clothing and sundries when I heard a low-pitched whistle come from the bedroom. When I looked in the doorway I saw Peggy lying on the bed. She had removed her shoes and unbuttoned her blouse. Her short, simple skirt rode high on her thighs as she raised her knees.

"Is that trip necessary?" she husked.

In a trice I was on the bed with her and our fingers were flying like a speed typist's as we unbuttoned buttons and unbuckled belts and unzipped zippers and slid various items of clothing every way but on. When it was over we lay side by side, naked and laughing, our hands stealing here and there to feel, pinch, rub, stroke, fondle various body areas.

Peggy tickled me low on the back-an area in which I am very sensitive. I knew for a fact that the soles of her feet were her most ticklish spots, so I crawled to the foot of the bed, caught both her legs, and began to run the very tips of my finger against their soft and yielding flesh. She squirmed, then stiffened her legs, her feet slightly apart. I looked up along their creamy shapely length like a hunter sighting his rifle and drew my bead on the marvelous dark-thatched nest at their base. The dark lips of her cunt were open ever so much, allowing the clutching inner mouth to peek forth, and I could see little pearly drops of wetness clinging to the nearly black hair that ringed the spot. The fingers that had been tickling her feet fell idle and I knelt there on the bed suddenly enthralled by the sight of the pussy that had come to mean all the world and more to me.

"What's wrong?" she asked, wiggling her feet in my grip. I let her legs fall to the bed and wriggled up to lie with my head across her rich and vibrant tits.

"What's wrong?" she repeated. "Are you getting too old to play anymore?" By way of emphasis she reached to tickle my back again.

I caught her extended hand, forcing it to my crotch that it might take hold of the cock that was suddenly so insistent in demanding her attention.

"Oh, my," she marvelled, "I see what's wrong." Her fingers teased and tantalized me. "What should we do about this development?" she asked of no one in particular.

I stopped her mouth with a kiss, hands cupping the cheeks of her ass as I held her to me. Under the touch of her clever and experienced hand my cock was swelling and growing with new life. It felt as though I had gained inches since the last time I looked at it. And there seemed to be no end to the erection to which her fingering and squeezing were leading me.

"So big," she whispered. "Do you think it will all go into me?" And even as she spoke the shaft seemed to enlarge in her grip. Breaking out of our kiss she slid down my body. "Let me take a look at this," she said. "I think you've grown a new peter since the last time we did this."

Peggy looked at my stiff and aching organ from all angles. She licked at its head gingerly, sucking away the tiny drop of cum that nestled in the slot. "The jewel in the lotus," she explained with a smile.

Her eyes examined the stalk from root to mouth, that quick and penetrating tongue making its own taste test as she subjected it to most detailed scrutiny. For the second time that day the tip of my prick disappeared between the talented lips of a beautiful woman. Peggy sucked it up and down, swallowing as much of the length as she could manage without choking. At last she finished her field survey and she rejoined me at the head of the bed.

"It smells and tastes exactly the same as the cock John Stevens always used to put inside me," she announced, "but it seems to be ever so much bigger. I think I'm going to have to cancel the honeymoon, love, because I'm afraid you're far too large to fuck me safely. Sorry and all that." She smiled and I rolled atop her.

"Take me like a demon," she pleaded, wrapping her arms round my neck and her legs round my back. "Give it to me like a two-dollar whore. We've got all our lives to be tender, so make up for those years you wanted it and couldn't get it."

And before I could put a hand to my crotch to guide the passage of my insistent weapon up her sumptuous tunnel of love, one of her hands broke free from its grip on my neck and seized the would-be intruder firmly.

Then she pulled its head to rest against the now-protruding inner lips of her pussy, the point nestling ever-so-slightly between them, and with a shrill wail drove her body against mine, impaling herself on the full length of my rockhard prick.

"A nice girl is one who puts it in for you," I whispered in her ear, my face pressed against her hair, a champagne-colored blur all my eyes could perceive.

"Am I a nice girl?" she panted, fucking for all she was worth.

"Are you ever," I hissed back to her, pounding my cock into her body with all the force and penetration I could muster. She cooperated like a saint, arching her loins as she received my strokes so that the entrance of this foreign but not unwanted object might be as deep as possible.

The walls of her pussy were like a million tiny sucking mouths all working at once on my erection, nibbling and nursing with tongues of fire. My balls slapped against her crotch on every downstroke, the bagful of hastily brewing sperm aching exquisitely with the jolting; and the wiry rubbing of my pubic hair against her exposed throbbing clitoris must have been equally arousing for her.

We fucked for what seemed like hours, neither of us ready to call a halt by so traditional a means as orgasm, though both of us tottered and wavered upon the brink. Neither could endure the thought of going into climax and leaving the other still battling, and we whispered again and again in one another's ear our desire to make it together, as we had done so often in the past.

And then Peggy betrayed me, her body beginning to shake and jolt as the seizure took hold, her lovely mouth dripping sweet saliva and her lips giving vent to repeated obscenities strung together with no thought of coherence, merely "fuck shit oh fuck fuck ... fuck me" repeated ad infinitum, and her breasts pulsed against me in a rhythm that matched stroke for stroke the pounding of my dick into her tightening cunt.

Her legs wrapped round my back contracted like drying rawhide as she let herself go climactic and it became harder and harder for me to continue the long in and out strokes to which I had been treating Peggy's receptive twat. I had to conduct my screwing in shorter strokes that didn't allow me the opportunity to withdraw almost to the extent of disengagement as I had been doing, and because the strokes were so much less extended they became faster and faster, growing ever speedier as the flame of orgasmic seizure consumed more and more of my self-control.

"Now!" I screamed and drove my cock into her as far as penetration could be made and spilled my cum into her sucking uterus, feeling my juices roil and boil inside her body until, overflowing, they welled up into her vaginal channel, soaking the shaft of my still-driving penis and making it so slippery inside the contracting/expanding walls of her cunt that on an outstroke I slipped all the way out of her body. And as my cock fell free the glistening white cum flowed out of her quivering hole to dribble in a steaming puddle on the sheet beneath us.

Much, much later Peggy turned to me and said, "Lover, that was worth waiting for!"

CHAPTER ELEVEN

And so was all the rest of that magic time we spent together nestled high on the shoulder of a forest mountain. Proudly naked, we chased each other through the wooded paths, collapsing at last to fuck our hearts out in the moist mossy grass that had never seen sunlight. We found our way along the brow of the hill to a waterfall that sang and sparkled like a silver bell, and we threw aside our clothes to bathe the sweat of sex from our bodies. And afterward, resting in a damp niche behind the veil of flowing water, we let our hands and tongues roam and explore freely our yielding bodies, our flesh glowing in the shadows as the setting sun pierced our aqueous curtain like a gentle knife. So must Adam and Eve have played and gamboled in the merry groves of Eden, and so did Peggy and I frolic and rejoice in our love and lust in this new paradise made for us alone.

And as all things must, the period of one-on-one loving and learning drew to its end. With a great reluctance we packed our belongings, closed up the lodge, and climbed into the car for the long drive back to Richvale and thence to our new home in Burgerswyck.

Dianna greeted us warmly but, I was glad to notice, without that barely concealed sexual aggression she seemed to focus upon me. Her kiss at the door was warm and pecking but not greatly different from the caress of daughter to father in a normal relationship. Perhaps, I thought, the essential realities of the situation had imposed themselves upon her, and she had come independently to the same belief I had regarding any future indulgence in sex on our part.

That night Peggy and I slept for the first time upon a marriage bed in that house. We were several doors down the hall from Dianna's bedroom and felt no compunction about satisfying our natural lusts for, each other's body, but Peggy allowed herself to be swept into climax after climax from the insistent nibbling of my teeth on her vulva, and before she erupted into shuddering silent heaves and quivers, gave vent to some shrill screams of ecstasy. Dianna couldn't have helped hearing them, and I wondered vaguely if she resented my usurping the place of the man she had always thought to be her father.

While we had been away Dianna had seen to shipping off all that we intended keeping from the house. The morning after our arrival the furniture men came to pick up the remaining items that we had agreed to sell, and when they had gone the house seemed bare. Peggy gave the impression of being anxious to be on our way, so I called the realtors to inform them that as of now the house would be ready for immediate occupancy by the new owners. Then, with a last goodbye look for old time's sake from Peggy and Dianna, we all piled into the Mercedes and started for New York state.

Burgerswyck, our new hometown, was a lush and plush bedroom community some miles up the Hudson from the metropolis of New York City. The neighbor hood in which we were to live was inhabited principally by families whose breadwinner was employed, as I was, in one of the professions, and the studied, understated elegance arid expense of the houses we passed as we drove to our own gave unmistakable indication of the upper-class tone of our new surroundings.

Dianna sat in the back seat avidly examining the streets of the town in which she would soon be living.

"Gee," she said at last, "we lived in the best part of Richvale, but it couldn't compare to this." She propped her knees on the seat and looked out the back window. "This looks like the kind of town all those ritzy girls I went to boarding school with call home." I looked into the rearview mirror and saw her peering intently out the window, looking from side to side as we passed down the street.

And at last we came to our house, a two-story salt-box type dwelling, sitting placidly on a street of houses that resembled it in style. I pulled into the driveway, stopping the Mercedes in front of the two-car garage that lay long and low beside the house, and we all crawled out. Dianna ran on coltish legs to the front door. With a giggle she rapped briskly on the door knocker, smiling back at us when no one came to answer her.

"I haven't hired any servants yet," I smiled, fetching the door key from my pocket and unlocking the portals so that she and her mother would step inside. Before Peggy could enter the house, however, I had seized her in my arms.

"It's traditional," I reminded her, carrying her across the threshold of our first real home. Dianna had already vanished somewhere inside, exploring this new trove of treasures. In a few minutes she came clattering down the stairs in her clicking boots.

"Wow, Uncle John," she gushed, "it's really nice. Which room is mine?"

"Any one you want," I assured her. "Your bedroom furnishings should be here tomorrow and you can put them anywhere you like. I think you'll have a wide choice."

And then Peggy and I made the grand tour, hand in hand like the newlyweds we were, and she made a pretty comment on each room we entered, praising my choice of this or that item of furniture, even when they were pieces from her own house in Richvale.

Since the larder wasn't stocked yet I proposed that we go out for dinner. Peggy and Dianna assented eagerly when I mentioned that there was a Chinese restaurant of very good quality nearby, and so we adjourned once more to the Mercedes after freshening up.

When we returned, Dianna excused herself and went upstairs to examine the bedrooms once more and choose the one she wanted for her own. Peggy and I settled ourselves with a bottle of wine and two glasses, cuddled like young lovers on the living room couch. After a while I got up and put on some soft dance music and we danced the old-fashioned way to the gentle sounds emanating from the tape deck.

At last Peggy kissed me softly and announced that she intended to go upstairs, take a long sensuous bath, and await me in the bedroom. Though I offered to come along and scrub her lovely back, she refused me, saying, "It's even better if you have to wait awhile, love."

So while she put away the wine and the glasses and went upstairs, I stepped into my study and looked over a few papers dealing with cases we were handling. I had prescribed myself a two-month vacation from actual legal work, but there were a couple of matters I could see to here at home or with only a brief trip or two into the city.

As I was looking over the first file on my desk the door opened quickly and Dianna stepped into the room. She was dressed only in a clinging nightshirt with a teddy bear printed on its front, its ears corresponding roughly to the youthful imprints of her little breasts in the fabric, and she came to my side rubbing those little tits against me, wrapping both her long bare legs round one of mine. A warm hand undid two of my shirt buttons and slid inside to fondle my nipple.

"What is the meaning of this, Dianna?" I asked with at least a trace of disapproval in my voice.

"Housewarming time, Uncle John," she whispered, her Lavoris-scented breath cool in my face. Her hand slipped out of my shirt to unclasp my belt. A few zips and clicks and a tug, and my pants fell around my feet. Dianna knelt before me, sliding my shorts down.

"Get up at once," I ordered, trying not to react as her fingers teased and pulled at my cock. But despite my determination to think only detumescent thoughts of legal facts and statistics, the expert jerks that her fingers were capable of, together with the kisses and bird-like nibbles of her ever-more skillful mouth had the exact response she desired, and my cock rose to stiffened erection in her hands.

"Pretty," she mused, chewing daintily at the juncture of my peter and bag of testicles.

"Stop this right now," I commanded huskily, the lack of dedication obvious in the croaked attempt at firmness.

"So pretty-and so big," she whispered, and then she sank it between her trembling lips, ingesting it as far as her young throat would admit, and then releasing it so that only the corona was captured in that tender trap. She began to suckle the head of my prick like a popsicle as her finger alternately pressed and released the sperm-tunnel that ran up the underside of my organ.

Dianna was young, not yet divested of that look of voluptuous innocence that blossoming girl-children possess, but she was at the same time one of the most expert cocksuckers I had ever met. Captured once more in the spell of her professional-quality fellation technique, I found it harder and harder to acknowledge even to myself that she was in truth my own teenage daughter. You know the old saying penis erectus conscientiam non habet-a stiff prick has no conscience. Well, it's true as anything can be. And my prick was so hard and aching for release now that conscience and morality meant nothing at all to me. I wanted nothing more than to dump my load into Dianna so fast and so powerfully that it would make its own way to her flat little tummy whether she bothered to swallow or not.

Nothing else mattered as she sucked my tip and slid her strong fist up and down my stalk. I weaved and wobbled with the force of her blowjob action, my vision blurring as the combination of her suction and jacking sent through my body a spasm of delight that was a dead giveaway, a prelude to the bubbling flow of cum that broke out of my body and into hers.

The first gush exploded as she rocked the head of my cock from side to side on her wet lips. The white juices filled her mouth and flowed in matching trails from the corners of her broad smile, down across her chin, to drip at last onto the front of her childish nightshirt.

"Damn, but that tasted good," she told herself aloud. She looked up at me as she hoisted my shorts back up over my still trembling hips. "Sorry to have bothered you, Uncle John, but you know how it is with Chinese food. Eat some, and an hour later you're hungry again. This ought to tide me over till morning." And she rose, kissed me on the cheek with her cum-wet lips, and toddled out of the room, her round little ass bouncing as she walked.

I wiped my cheek dry of the semen traces she had left upon it, went upstairs, showered, and, with a deep anxiety perplexing my mind, crawled into bed with Peggy. She put down the book she had been reading and slid her warm and eager body atop mine. And again, with fucking the farthest thing from my thoughts, I found myself reacting automatically to the touch of her flesh. Almost before I knew it my cock was thrusting like a power drill into the body of my daughter's mother, and once again the surrender to orgasm was an experience not to be described as Peggy rocked and rolled astride my prone body and my pelvis jacked itself upward ever upward to penetrate her clutching hole of ecstasy.

I slept restlessly that night, my thoughts and dreams troubled and confused. On the one hand I had everything a man could want-a secure, high-paying job, an expensive suburban home, a beautiful wife who was also my truest of true loves, and a lovely daughter. The common dreams of materialism and the so-called "good life" had been fulfilled for me and there was quite literally nothing I could want on that head.

But on the other hand I was deeply involved sexually with an underage girl-a girl who thought herself my stepdaughter and consequently fair game for her sexually precocious desires, but a girl who was in truth my own and only daughter by blood. Dianna had called the laws regulating private morality "full of shit," yet according to those laws I was guilty of statutory rape, sodomy, and now, worst of all, incest.

And to make matters worse, the guilt and shame I should be feeling in every fiber of my being shrank just a little every time I allowed myself another episode of transgression. Even now, knowing that Dianna and I were parent and child, I could not mask or disguise the fact that I enjoyed the things we did together, that she appealed to me erotically as well as in a filial sense. My attempts to end our sexual relationship had been a failure and there was no indication that they would ever be anything else.

But what if Peggy should uncover our little secret? There was no question in my mind. She would either kill me or divorce me, and I would lose the love of the finest woman I had ever known. And what about the effect on Dianna when she discovered the truth about herself and me? Would it have an adverse effect on her emergence into adulthood?

The questions that rankled my breast were many and little conducive to answer or reconciliation as I drifted into a troubled sleep.

And morning found those questions still unanswered as I rose from a fitful sleep. Peggy stirred a little when I slid off the bed and she looked up at me with drowsy eyes. I kissed her eyelids.

"Baby, you stay in bed. The delivery boy should have left some groceries for us this morning and I'll fix your breakfast and bring it up to you." She smiled and stretched her tawny arms like a tired kitten.

"Good morning, Uncle John," said Dianna as I entered the kitchen. Still wearing the teddy bear nightshirt, she was halving a grapefruit. "I heard somebody outside a while back and I saw this kid leaving some sacks by the kitchen door. Today we eat, huh?" and she sparkled ingenuously. Looking at her, with the memory of her lips warm on the tip of my cock, I could scarcely believe the wanton fellatrix of last night was the charming child who stood before me.

"Good morning, Dianna," I replied. "I came down to fix your mother some breakfast."

"I'll fix it," she volunteered. "Mom likes scrambled eggs and a few slices of bacon. Also a little glass of orange juice and coffee-cream, one sugar." And without another word she broke a couple of eggs into a bowl, mixed in some milk and salt, and began to stir them up.

"Anything I can help with?" I asked, eager to explore what seemed to be our new relationship as stepfather and dutiful stepdaughter.

With one hand she flipped up the tail of her nightshirt, revealing that she wore no panties on her auburn-furred twat. "Yeah," she grinned impishly, "you can eat me out. I'm really horny this morning."

"I won't do it," I stated flatly.

"Look," she hissed, "I've given you blowjob after blowjob and never asked anything in return. In fact, I've lost count of how many comes you owe me. The least you can do is to suck my puss while I do your chores." And she winked an eye wickedly. "Or would you rather I tell Mom all about us?"

Blackmail! Dianna was not blind. She could see how much I loved her mother and how much her mother loved me, and the cunning minx knew that she could end it all if she were able to prove to her mother's satisfaction that I had been engaged in monkey business involving the delectable teenybopper's immature cunt.

"She wouldn't believe you," I smiled.

"Not even if I told her about the mole on your left ass cheek?"

"You might have been peeking at me in the bath."

"I have been," she admitted. "What about that tiny scar on the underside of your prick-the one that only shows up when you're stiff and ready? How did I see that, Mr. Explanations?"

Oh God, I thought. I hadn't remembered that until she brought it up. It happened in Korea, when a couple of us picked up some whores in Seoul and didn't have time to undress before we fucked them. The zipper of my G.I. pants had scratched my cock while I was putting the meat to my girl. Peggy had mentioned that scar years before, but I hadn't thought of it since then.

She looked at me triumphantly. "I don't want to be a little bitch or anything like that, Uncle John," she said sincerely, "but I just have to have something from you soon or I'm gonna blow up. Do you think it's any fun for a girl to diddle her pussy till she kind of comes, knowing all the while that there's a champion stud just down the hall who could be helping her get it on? Try that sometime, if you want to know what hell on earth is like."

"I know what hell on earth is like," I growled as I sat down on the floor between her outspread legs, licking and finger-poking her cunt while she whipped the bowl of eggs. Hell on earth was the agony that had invaded my life in the guise of fulfillment of all my dreams.

But it was hard to reflect on the quagmire into which my conscience had fallen as I sucked and slurped in her wet pussy. Dianna quit beating the eggs as my mouth stepped up its pace and she spread her legs more and more to allow me to sink my nose and mouth into her wet fragrant slit. I had to catch her by the waist as she poised on the verge of falling to the floor in a ballerina's split. Her knees were trembling as I ate her out and she seemed too weak to stand without my hands' assistance.

I dug into her dripping twat with three fingers, parting her lips to lay bare the pink softness of her vaginal mouth. The telltale shuddering swept across her body and the rosy peaks of her breasts erupted to stabbing erection. A fluttering sound, like the flapping of wings, came from her rapidly opening and shutting mouth and I knew that she was on the edge of blowing her cookies, so I eased her gently to the floor and slipped across her moaning lips the same hand that had just been probing her cunt. The fingers that were wet from her pulsing juices slid into her mouth and she sucked at them as if they had been a throbbingly stiff peter, exulting at the taste of herself in passion. And so I held her mouth to prevent the shrieking that always walked hand in hand with her orgasms, all the while I was diving in her muff, bringing her to the mountain top of sensation.

When she had drained herself of every vestige of desire and release I crawled off her.

"Now," I said, "you'd better finish your mother's breakfast. She'll be waiting."

"Oh, Gods," she whispered, "who needs anything to eat at a time like this?"

I got to my feet and washed my hands. Then I took up where Dianna had left off, stirring up the eggs. As I beat savagely at the mess of egg and milk and salt I contemplated once more on the predicament in which I had so foolishly placed myself.

Dianna lay contentedly on the floor, a hand rubbing her bare cunt, a smile playing on her adolescent features. No matter how I tried to excuse myself I could not deny that she excited me sexually as much as she had that first time we blew one another's nuts on the edge of the pool.

And was it so great a sin, anyway? After all, father-daughter sexual relations are common in many parts of the world. Some cultures believe that a pubescent girl is best educated in the fine arts of fucking and sucking if her teacher is her own dear daddy. Here in America we look aghast at such perversion, but on the other hand, how many hillbilly girls have lost their cherries to none other than ol' paw, out behind the hog pen? A hell of a lot. And not only hillbilly folks acted like that. I had seen evidences of the same type of activities in the New York City courts, and not only from your so-called

"lower classes."

Besides, she had told me she took the pill. There seemed little chance she could get pregnant. And she hadn't been a virgin when we first got acquainted with each other's body. We hadn't done anything together that she hadn't already done before.

I thought of a case I had read about, in which a young serviceman, an adopted child in a midwest family, was stationed in California, met an older woman, fell in love with her, and married her, only to find that she was the woman who had birthed him and then released him for adoption so many years before. And when you looked at matters objectively, that was exactly the same as the situation I found myself in regarding Dianna. Our first sexual connection had been statutorily illegal, but its morality or lack of it depended upon your ethical orientation.

"Listen to me, Dianna," I said at last, abandoning the eggs and kneeling at her side. Her heavy-lidded eyes focused on my face. "There's something we have to get straight, once and for all."

"Are you going to give me another one of those fucking 'don't touch' lectures?" she demanded.

"No, not that. I've tried that-God, how I've tried!-and it doesn't work. You don't seem to be able to keep your hands off me, and when I get hold of you I don't want to let you go. But there's something you have to promise me."

"If I can have your cock when I want it, I'll promise you anything," she assured me.

"All right," I continued. "First, it would absolutely kill your mother if she found out about us, so because I love her I'm going to ask you to promise that you will never tell her."

"Okay."

"And just as important, that you don't try to engineer any situations in which she is bound to catch us doing anything."

"I promise," she said, a smile beaming wide.

"And the second set of conditions: I'm married to your mother. Therefore I will not fuck you."

Disappointed puzzlement instantly marred her beatific smile.

"I said I won't fuck you," I repeated, "but as long as the circumstances are favorable we can engage in oral activities."

"Not even a little fucking-like maybe when Mom goes into the city to go shopping and we're both here by ourselves?"

"Not even then," I said. "It's a matter of principle."

"Oh, fuck."

"Your promise," I reminded her.

"I promise, damn it," she muttered, "but I don't like it very well."

CHAPTER TWELVE

The human mind is an instrument that never fails to amaze. Once I had, by means of devious and contorted logic, allowed myself a set of conditions governing my taking advantage of my own daughter, the question grew less and less troublesome. No longer did I imagine in those sleepless pre-dawn hours the ultimate day of confrontation when Peggy and I would sit down with a maturing eighteen-year-old Dianna and confide in her the true story of her parentage. No longer did I mentally picture the shocked girl arising from her chair in outraged agony, crying, "Why didn't you tell me that when you were getting in my pants all the time, Daddy dear?"

Dianna's seventeenth birthday was nearing, and she had turned a definite thumbs down on the idea of a party. We had only been in Burgerswyck a few days and she didn't know anyone yet, so who could we invite? I had been possessed of a vague hope that once she became acquainted around the neighborhood her sexual demands on me might dwindle with her in creased socializing. As it was, we were sucking each other off at least once a day, whenever Peggy was occupied elsewhere, and the strain of discovery's possibility was telling upon my sexual performance with my wife.

Several days after we moved into the house I had to go into New York on some business. When I returned late in the afternoon Peggy was positively radiant with delight.

"You'll never guess what happened today, John," she beamed as she fixed me a welcome-home gin and tonic.

"If I can't guess, then why don't you tell me?" I teased.

She grinned. "Today a committee of ladies from the neighborhood called on me, as a welcoming party. Do you remember when we were driving in, and Dianna mentioned that Burgerswyck was the kind of town her boarding school mates came from? Well, I presented Dianna to the ladies, even though she looked like a tomboy in those blue jeans and no-bra shirt, and when she met Mrs. Van Kirkland she brightened up and said, 'I went to school with a girl named Van Kirkland last year in Connecticut.' "

Peggy paused a moment to pour herself a drink and then went on. "Mrs. Van Kirkland asked her what school, and Dianna told her it was the Baker School for Young Ladies, and when they'd finished comparing notes, why, you'll never believe this, but Dianna's schoolmate-I believe she said it was even her roommate-is Mrs. Van Kirkland's daughter Jennifer. And they just live a block or two from here. Dianna went over right away, and I guess they must be talking over old times or something, because she's been gone all afternoon. Isn't that delightful? Now she'll have a friend, and she can start making other friends here in Burgerswyck."

Just delightful, I thought grimly. I remembered Dianna telling me about her roommate last year at the Baker School for Young Ladies. The lesbian, who used to suckle my daughter at her breasts, and sixty-nine with her, and stick fingers up each other's young cunt. Yes, it was really delightful.

"That's nice," I managed to say.

Dianna came in about six-thirty that evening, but only to pick up some night things. She was going to spend the night with Jennifer Van Kirkland. There was so much to talk about, she gurgled happily.

For the first time since making my eventful decision about our relationship I had a bad night's rest on Dianna's account. Every time I closed my eyes I could see her in the arms of a shapeless faceless mass that bore a nametag reading Jennifer. She was sucking a tit that suddenly materialized on this amorphous threat, or the invisible specter was nursing hungrily at her own little boobie, or perhaps the blob of my foe formed itself into a long phallic pole and, parting her cunt lips, probed its way into Dianna's body.

Peggy and I were at breakfast next morning when Dianna bounded into the kitchen.

"Hi, Mom, Uncle John," she said hurriedly. "Say, do you think I could go down to White Plains with Jennifer and her mom today? They were planning on doing some shopping and wanted to know if I could come along. I'll need some money."

"Sure, pet," Peggy assured her. She went to her purse and pulled out a couple of twenties. "That be enough?" she asked with a smile.

"Oh, yeah," Dianna smiled. "We were just gonna buy some summery things. Nothing expensive. Some poor-boy type things to wear to the rock concert next week. I can go, can't I?"

"Oh, I guess so," Peggy answered. "You don't mind, do you, John. She loves the music so much."

I shrugged. If she was going to let this Jennifer eat her furry little pussy they might as well do it at a rock concert as anywhere else.

"See you this afternoon, then, I guess," Dianna said, going out the door.

Peggy did the breakfast dishes while I sipped lackadaisically at my second cup of coffee.

Finished at last, she turned to me. "What are you planning on doing today, John?"

"Nothing special," I said absently, "unless you were planning on screwing the afternoon away on our king-size bed."

"I'd really love to," she smiled, "but I thought you were going to go in to the office today."

"No, I don't have to go till first of next week."

"Oh, damn, and I promised Mrs. Thompson I would help out today at the day-care center the ladies' organization is running over in Galloway."

"Go ahead," I said, "I have some papers I could stand to go over this morning, and I might take a drive down to White Plains myself come afternoon."

"You're sure you won't mind?" Peggy queried.

"Of course not. I think the day-care idea is excellent, and I'm glad to see you're making yourself here at home in Burgerswyck."

"Well, if you're sure you don't mind."

I smiled. "Really, Peggy, I'm sure."

"Okay, if you insist. But I really should get ready to go. Mrs. Thompson is coming by at ten to pick me up."

As I had told her, I spent the morning going over a sheaf of documents relating to a very thorny probate case we were handling. The documents were muddled at best, and as I looked them over and over I could think of nothing else but Dianna engaging in lesbian fucking and sucking with this mysterious Jennifer. Shortly after noon my stomach began to growl, so I went out to the kitchen and fixed myself some tea and a couple of sandwiches. But even with a full belly the documents could not hold my attention and I sat idly at my desk, daydreaming for I don't know how long.

My reverie was shattered by the stealthy opening of the door to my study. I whirled in my swivel chair to see Dianna peeking in at me.

"Hi, Uncle John," she cooed, "we got back and I thought I'd say hi."

"Dianna," I said, "there is something I'd like to talk to you about. Could you come in for a minute?"

"Oh, gee, Uncle John, I'd like to but I can't. Jennifer and !"-here she threw the door open to reveal that she was not alone-"were gonna go up to my room and try on the stuff we bought."

"Hi, Mr. Stevens," Jennifer cooed in a voice that dripped honey and sweetness.

She was a short girl, just a little over five feet in height, with sandy blonde hair worn long and straight, falling down over her shoulders and across her chest. Her cheeks were cute and puffy and her body was plump with held-over baby fat. She wore a tight-fitting blouse that emphasized the chubby plumpness of her full round breasts. Likewise her jeans stretched like a layer of blue skin across her wide hips and chunky ass.

I could just see that ass bouncing up and down on a springy mattress as Dianna licked greedily at the sweet pudgy blonde's cunt.

"You must be Jennifer," I guessed, a little edge entering my voice despite my effort to be noncommittal. "Dianna has told me a lot about you and the Baker School for Well-Brought-Up Young Ladies."

"School for Rich Young Ladies," she corrected with a smile that dimpled her plump cheeks. "And Dianna has told me a lot about you, too."

I colored and turned pale, all in the same seemingly impossible instant. What had Dianna told her about me? That I was sucking her and letting her blow me any time she wanted-that before I had married her mother Dianna and I had spent several memorable occasions fucking one another's eyes out?

"Come on, Jen," Dianna called, going out the door and touching, ever so lightly, the blonde girl's hand. "We decided to come over here so Jen could see where I lived," she explained to me over her shoulder as the two girls disappeared from my sight.

I sat at my desk shivering in fear. In spite of her promises to me, had Dianna revealed our secret to a girl friend whose lesbian tendencies made her most obviously one not to be trusted? Could she be so treacherous? But of course, she had only given her word not to tell Peggy. Did that allow her to spill the beans to anyone else she chose? How did the teenaged sexpot's mind work?

Some time afterwards Dianna passed the door of my study on her way to the kitchen. When I saw her go by I got to my feet and followed her. She was taking two king-size Cokes from the refrigerator and looking in a drawer for a bottle opener.

"I want to talk to you," I said authoritatively. "Is Jennifer upstairs?"

"Sure," she said, "and I can't talk long. I gotta go back up. We got thirsty and I thought I'd get us something to drink."

"What did Jennifer mean when she said you'd told her a lot about me?" I demanded.

"Gods, Uncle John," she protested, "I don't know what she meant. She thinks with her own mind, not mine."

"What did you tell her about me?"

"Just how sexy you are."

"Why should Jennifer care if I'm sexy or not? Doesn't she prefer girls to guys?"

"Oh, Jeez, no!" Dianna was aghast. "Why do you say that?"

"Well, didn't you tell me-"

"That we used to fool around when we were roommates? Shit! I suppose you think we were both flaming lezzies." Deftly she popped the caps off the two Cokes.

"It was just fooling around. It didn't mean anything. Jen's a little 'bi', if you .know what I mean. You know, she'll do it with a girl or a guy. She doesn't really care.

It only depends on her mood when she wants to make it. She's no queer, for God's sake!"

"So you don't 'fool around' with her anymore?" I continued my interrogation.

"Not really," she said.

I seized upon the point. "Then how come your blouse is unbuttoned partially?" I demanded.

She looked down her front and secured the two open buttons. "We were trying on some clothes and I guess I forgot to button them all." She picked up the Cokes and two glasses and started by me.

"I'm not finished," I went on. I placed my fingers against the crotch of her jeans. "You're wet," I accused. "Did that come from trying on clothes too?"

"I'll be fucked," she whistled. "I really think you're jealous, Uncle John! You're afraid that Jen is making little Dianna." She shook her head in wonder. "Gods, I don't understand you. One day you shove your cock up my ass till it feels like it's gonna poke out my throat, the next day you pull some kind of a preacher line about sin and morality. The next day you let me suck you off and you shoot your wad in my mouth, and the day after that you're back on the preacher kick. You tell me you don't want to make it with me anymore, now that you're my step daddy, and then you get all worked up because you think I'm gonna make it with a girl friend. Jesus, no wonder your generation is so fucked up. You don't know whether to shit or get off the pot."

I had been holding her by the pussy without knowing it during her speech. As she finished she glared up at me, dropping her eyes to the clutching hand. I let go of her as quickly as if she had been afire, and she moved past me and out of the room.

Hard as I tried, I could still make no sense of the legal papers I should have been studying. Pictures flashed before my eyes-lewd imaginings of what was happening upstairs in Dianna's room. Now that I had seen Jennifer, her plump, blonde, vivacious image replaced the vision of the unknown entity I had pictured as being engaged in acts of perverted love with my darling child Dianna.

When at last I could no longer tolerate the oppressive creations of my mind I shoved the papers back into their manila folder, stuffed them inside a desk drawer, and crept lightly up the stairs. There was laughter coming from behind the closed door of Dianna's room and I wished momentarily for the X-ray vision of Superman that I might look behind that barrier and see just what was going on.

For a long space I stood motionless at the head of the stairs, listening to that sweet, musical, girlish laughter, interpreting it in terms of the grossest obscenity I could recall. Jealous? Hell yes, I was jealous! And angry? I loved this child in every sense of the word, as my daughter, as a bedmate, and as a human being.

Whatever pride I still had vanished completely as I knelt softly in the carpeted hall, bringing my knee gingerly to the floor, and carefully placing my eye against the keyhole in the door. What would I see? Dianna and Jennifer engaged in the acts I had envisioned? Or something totally innocuous? Only the act of looking would provide the answer, so I looked.

I don't know whether I was disappointed, pleased, or aroused by what I saw. Dianna stood by the window, clad in a new blouse, one of those shortie type that ties just between the tits and leaves everything bare below the top of the rib cage. She also wore a pair of fairly modest bikini panties-skimpy, as is the nature of that garment, but not of the transparent variety she had favored in Richvale.

"Maybe I'll go to the concert like this," she was saying with a giggle.

Jennifer joined in the lilting laugh and walked across the room into my field of vision. She stood by Dianna's side at the window, clad in her underwear-a natural-look bra and a pair of imitation denim panties.

"And maybe I'll go like this," she added, preening herself in the afternoon light that shone through the window.

Then Jennifer turned abruptly and slipped out of her all-elastic brassiere, shucking it to the floor like a discarded lover. Her tits hung full and bouncy on her chest, wobbling as she walked toward the door. The nipples were large and oval, deep, deep brown in color. She stopped partway to the door and searched through a package lying on a chair. Out came a very sheer top and a pair of silky hot pants.

Still facing my way, she peeled off the panties, revealing her blonde beaver in all its adolescent glory. A natural blonde, I thought vacuously. Then she casually donned the costume she had selected. The hot pants clung to every line of her pelvic region, riding so high and tight against her cunt that I was positive she would be constantly orgasmic if she wore them for more than a few minutes. She turned to Dianna.

"Oh, that's beautiful," said Dianna, appraising her friend like a jeweler. "That blouse really shows off your tits. Will your mom let you out of the house in it?"

"I'll put on a bra before I go. And as soon as we get there, why, I'll just hop into the ladies' room and take it off. I can keep it in my purse till we get ready to go home."

"Hey, yeah," said Dianna. "I think I could do that too. I have a see-through like that, and Mom really lays down the law if I don't wear a bra under it-even around the house, before she got married again."

I felt like a peeping Tom, and I was ready to make my exit as surreptitiously as I had come when Jennifer's next words bound me to my post.

"Bet your stepfather wouldn't mind if you went around the house without your little bra. Bet he wouldn't mind if you went around without anything."

"Maybe," Dianna said cryptically.

"Did you catch the way he was looking me up and down?" Jen continued. "I felt like I didn't have a stitch on."

"No," Dianna said combatively, "I didn't notice that at all."

"Well, he was. How old is he, anyway?"

"He's a little older than Mom. In his early forties, I suppose."

"Gee, that's not so old," commented Jennifer. "Say, you wanna make a bet?"

"What kind of a bet?"

"Betcha I can get him to fuck me. Betcha anything you wanta bet."

"No," Dianna said. "You better let him alone."

"How come?"

"He belongs to my Mom. She catches anybody messing around with Uncle John, she'll stick her foot up their pussy."

"I might like that," Jennifer ventured. "Besides, your mom is cute, for an old lady."

Old lady? I was ready to kick the door in and throw the little bitch out of the house.

"Fuck you," Dianna scowled.

"Want to?" Jennifer asked sweetly. She moved toward my charming darling. They embraced and kissed.

I couldn't watch them any longer. It made me feel dirty and vulgar to be watching through a keyhole, no matter what they were about to do. Besides, I had some things to discuss with Dianna when her little friend went home.

I fixed myself a stiff drink while I waited for Jennifer to go home. One led to another, and I was sipping my third gin and tonic when I heard voices at the front door.

"'Bye! See you tomorrow!" called Jen's trilling soprano, and the door slammed shut. Dianna came down the hall past my study door.

"Come in here," I commanded, my words fumbling and slurred from the gin I had been slugging.

She entered the study wordlessly, dressed once more in her everyday costume of work shirt and tight bell-bottom jeans. She leaned against the frame of the open door.

"Yeah?" she asked vacantly, obviously in the after-math of a powerful sexual encounter.

"Over here," I said, "and shut that goddamned door."

She did as I asked, but absent-mindedly, as if she really weren't here at all.

I stood up, my head a little unsteady, and took her by the shoulders.

"So," I noted, "you 'fooled around' with that little blonde pig anyway, did you?"

"Fuck off, Uncle John," she mumbled, "I don't have to tell you anything about what I do." Then, her voice growing stronger and her eyes meeting mine, "How many times did you screw Mom this week? Huh? And how many times did you screw me? I know the answer to both questions. You punched my mother eleven times that I'm sure of. And you didn't fuck me once."

"I'm married to your mother," I replied. "If we want to fuck we don't have to ask your permission."

"Well, the same goes for me. And Jen isn't a 'blonde pig', if you please. She's chubby but she's cute as a button, and I don't want you talking like that about my friends."

"Well, isn't she a dyke?"

"I already told you-she isn't queer, she's bisexual.

You might be surprised to know that she'd like to fuck you. But I won't let her."

I pretended astonishment. "She wants to fuck me? And you won't let her? What do you have in it, anyway? Maybe I'd like to fuck her."

"You probably would," Diana continued. "She's hot as a poker. But she'd tell somebody, and it would get around, and Mom would have to find out, and then what would happen? She'd divorce you, and I'd never see you again. And I love you, Uncle John. At first just for the way you could swing that cock in and out of me, but now that we're getting to know one another better in the other ways, I'm finding out how much I really do like you. Or at least I thought I did, till you started acting like such a bastard about Jennifer."

"Oh, baby," I whispered, cuddling her head against my chest. "I'm sorry. I love you too."

She looked up at me with a wicked expression. "Do you love little Dianna enough to let her suck you off again? I haven't asked you in two or three days." Her tongue dabbed at her lips as she waited for my answer.

I know I had already told her that under no circumstances could we ever fuck each other again, but she was so dear to me at that moment that I couldn't help myself. To know that she was growing to love me as well as the cock she couldn't seem to get enough of was at least partial salvation of my efforts to be a father as well as a stud to the girl. I sat down in my chair and pulled her atop me.

"You can't suck me off," I said, stroking her soft and glossy auburn hair, "because even if it will be for the very last time ever-absolutely-I'm going to put my cock up your tiny tight hole and fuck you till I can't stand it."

Her lips formed into an O of delight and she jumped from my lap to discard her tight jeans and panties. At the same time I was dropping my shorts and trousers so that when she turned to climb back aboard my cock was standing ready for her.

"This is just like old times, Uncle John," she smiled, as she perched herself above me and lowered away for the upstanding target awaiting her marksman pussy.

Inexorably the head slipped between her winking inner lips. Dianna moved down upon me slowly, half an inch at a time, until the entire length of my stony penis was sunk within her constricted tunnel. She draped her legs over the side of the chair and pressed her shirt-covered chest against my face. I caught hold of her breasts-they seemed a little larger than before, probably due to her sexual arousal-and squeezed them viciously as she began to swivel and pump atop my lap.

I arched my body up a little, to drive the head of my probing cock as far within her as we could get it, and she reacted beautifully, shoving her cunt back against me to take full benefit of my exploring thrusts.

We rocked and fucked up and down, up and down, up and down, the chair swiveling with us as it chose, till I was dizzy from the revolving and the gin and the heady sense of sin I felt in screwing my beautiful young child, and I looked up at Dianna's face, just above the top of my head, and saw that she was feeling the same emotions. Her eyes were open wide and the eyeballs were rolling like dice on a crap table and the saliva dripped from her gasping mouth into my hair. From her armpits exuded a fantastically musky smell, the aroma of a woman in heat and passion, and the odor of this captivated girl was aphrodisiac to me.

My breath came in short gulps and then my cock drove upward, hard, hard, hard-and I was shooting my load into her womb, the tip of my peter rubbing excruciatingly against the opening of that sucking organ inside her quivering belly.

She cried aloud once, twice, three times, then fell silent. I felt her head droop onto mine and I touched her cheek. No response. Hastily I uncunted and stood her up. Dianna hung limply in my arms, her eyes closed, no sign of consciousness passing across her wan young face. She was out cold. What should I do?

I laid her on the carpeted floor of my study and knelt beside her, fanning at her face with her discarded pair of panties. Under the meager breeze a quiver began to tremble on her eyelids. Then the blue eyes fluttered open, looking from side to side for a moment, then focusing their attention upon me.

"Oh, Jesus, Gods," she whispered, "I never came like that before. Did I faint?"

"Yes, you did, baby," I assured her. "You had me scared for a moment."

"Gods, Uncle John, you had me more than scared.

Oh, wow!" She exhaled mightily. "That was absolutely the greatest!"

"I'd better get you a drink of water," I said. "They say you should do that for somebody who's just fainted."

"Yeah," she agreed, "that would be cool." Clad only in my shirt I opened the study door to go into the kitchen. Then I froze with fear. The front door of the house slammed shut and there were footsteps in the outer hall. Peggy was home!

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"Quick, honey! Get your pants on! Your mother just came in!" I dashed the door shut and ran to where my trousers lay. There was no time for the shorts, so I grabbed them and Dianna's panties, tossing them into the wastebasket and shoving some paper over them. We raced like demons to get our legs back into our outer pants. The shoes could lie where they would. It was warm, and there was no need to have shoes on inside.

"You in there, love?" Peggy asked, opening the door, a split second after Dianna had zipped up her bellbottom jeans.

"Oh, hi, kitten," she continued, walking over to Dianna to plant a little motherly kiss on her forehead. "Did you have a good time shopping?"

"Uh-huh," Dianna nodded, her face a little flushed. "You look hot," Peggy commented. She placed her palm on Dianna's forehead. "And you feel hot, too. Do you think you might be coming down with a summer cold?"

"I don't know," Dianna croaked. "Maybe I'll take a couple of aspirins before I go to bed."

"Why don't you take them now?" Peggy asked. "Nip this thing in the bud. I wouldn't want you to get sick or anything in the middle of summer. That wouldn't be any fun." Obediently Dianna pattered out of the room.

"How was your day, hon?" I asked, trying to sound normal.

"It was kind of nice," Peggy said. "We took care of some kids whose mothers work at that electronics plant down the river. I wouldn't want to do it fulltime though. Did you miss me?" And she settled into my lap. My cock was still ready for action because it erected as soon as it felt the pressure of her bouncy hips.

"Oh, my," she said, "do you have a flashlight in your pocket, sir, or are you just glad to see me?"

"I have a flashlight in my pocket," I replied. She rubbed her finger against the tip of my nose.

"Remember what happened to Pinocchio when he told a lie," she reminded me. "And as punishment, you don't get any tonight."

"Not even if I tell the truth from now on?" I asked.

"Maybe," she conceded. "We'll have to see if you're a good boy or not."

As things turned out I was apparently a good boy, because I got plenty once we were in bed and the lights were out. The poignant beauty Peggy could bring to a hot fuck was amazing and I kept repeating over and over into her receptive ear, "I love you, I love you, my beautiful golden Peggy," till she must have thought that I was crazy-but it was only my way of apologizing for what would be my last-absolutely my last-fuck with Dianna.

Dianna's seventeenth birthday fell on the following Monday. That day Peggy took her into New York to buy a new dress, and when they came home late in the afternoon Jennifer dropped over and we four had sup per and birthday cake together. Afterwards the two girls went out to a movie and Peggy and I went upstairs for still another knockdown drag out battle of the bed.

And the following day, Tuesday, was the day of the fabulous rock concert Dianna and Jennifer had been planning to attend. Five big-name groups were slated to appear in the event at Newburgh, and the girls were going to ride up with a friend whose mother could take them, and to come home with Jennifer's mother when it was all over.

Tuesday was also Peggy's turn to help out once more at the day-care center, so I expected to be at home alone most of the day. Perhaps at last I could catch up on the affairs of some of my clients, who were paying high retainers for expert professional services, not for the incompetent muddling of a man who couldn't keep his own personal life straight, let alone a complicated legal matter.

Peggy and Mrs. Thompson left for the day-care center around ten, and Dianna had already gone over to Jennifer's for some reason I didn't catch. So, alone in the house and temporarily at peace in my mind and heart, I set about cleaning off my desk with a vengeance. By early afternoon I had completed work that had baffled me not long before and I felt that a little nap would be quite in order.

So I padded upstairs to the bedroom and stretched out. I had the alarm set to awake me at five, about an hour before Peggy was due home from her volunteer job, and, secure in my well-deserved rest, I was soon asleep.

I awoke to the tugging of hands on my shoulder. Sleepily I opened my eyes and looked into Dianna's blue orbs. She crouched low above me, her falling hair brushing my cheeks and making me itch with the nearness of her.

"Uncle John," she said, "I came home to get dressed and I thought I'd tell you goodbye. Jen will be over in half an hour and we're gonna walk over to Libby's together so we can ride up to the concert."

"Okay," I muttered, still groggy, "be good and take care of yourself tonight." I closed my eyes to return to my nap-time. She shook me hard, her little fingers digging into my shoulders.

"Hey, wake up, sleepyhead," she called. "I haven't told you goodbye yet."

There was no chance of my returning to sleep till she had had her say, so I pulled myself up on the bed, into a seated position. She sat down beside me, her little ass pushing against my legs and making me scoot over whether I wanted to or not. Casually one of her hands fell upon the inside of my upper thigh. Just as casually I removed it.

Now I took a look at her. The conversation on which I had eavesdropped was apparently only idle talk. Dianna wasn't wearing the see-through top she had threatened to-instead it was the little bare-midriff number I had seen her trying on, with a pair of pale blue bellbottom slacks. Her hair was tied back with a white ribbon and she looked every inch the demure young teenage virgin-the kind of girl you see in fashion ads, playing hopscotch or jumping ropes with her little girl friends, all very pure, very clean, very tantalizing.

"I've wanted to talk to you when Mom wasn't around, Uncle John," she gushed. "There's something I want to show you. Bet you never even noticed." And her hands went to the bow that secured the front of her shortie blouse, undoing it swiftly, then flipping back the two pieces of cloth that shielded her breasts.

"Look," she continued. "Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yes," I agreed, "they are lovely little titties."

"I knew you hadn't noticed," she grimaced. "You haven't seen them in so long. That's what comes of just eating each other. We don't have to take our clothes off and we don't get to see one another's bodies."

She touched a pointing finger to the tip of each round protuberance, brushing the pink nipples.

"They're very nice," I said.

"Don't you think they're ever so much bigger?" she quizzed me. "Remember how tiny they were the first time we made it? Just little balls of flesh-little bumps on my chest. That's all they were. Remember?"

I looked closer at her breasts. And I remembered the time we had been fucking in my office chair, when I had grabbed them. True,, I had thought at the time that they seemed fuller than before. But I had dismissed it as being due most likely to the fact that she was sexually aroused, since breasts do engorge somewhat at that time.

But now as I looked at her very nice tits I knew that they were fuller and more shapely than before. And I had not noticed it until she pointed it out to me. All a part of living too close to someone, I suppose.

"Yes," I agreed, "they are filling out very prettily. You should be proud of them."

"Oh, I am," she nodded, "but I couldn't have done it without you."

"You could have done it without me, and easily," I contradicted. "You're a growing girl, and growing girls tend to grow. It's a natural fact."

"Shit, too," she corrected me. "Jennifer told me when we were roommates that the thing that really makes your titties grow is swallowing guys' cum. It's all protein, see, and it collects in your breasts and makes them bigger."

"Shit, too," I replied. "That's an old wives' tale."

"You know all about old wives' tail, I'll bet," she chortled. "And it's very true. I saw it in Forum magazine. You know, the one Penthouse puts out. A girl wrote in and said that because she always swallowed the cum guys shot into her mouth her breasts grew from a 32A to a 37C."

"The pill makes your breasts enlarge," I said, "and as I mentioned before, you are still a growing girl. The fact that you also swallow cum has nothing to do with the size of your tits."

"I've been on the pill for a couple of years," she protested, "and my tits didn't start growing again until we got together and you started letting me suck your cock. A equals B, and A plus B equals C. Q.E.D."

"No wonder you nearly failed math," I said snidely. "Your logic and your science are equally fallacious."

"Fallacious or phallus," she smiled, "I need my daily quota of tittie protein before I go."

"We'd better not," I said. "Jennifer is on her way over, you told me, and she might come in at the wrong moment. I'm still a little paranoid after your mother nearly caught us that last time."

Dianna turned to me, her hands bent, palms together, in an imitation of a begging puppy. A wistful and forlorn look stole upon her face. She was so cute I couldn't turn her down, so I unfastened my pants and slipped them and my shorts off. A smile replaced the waif expression and she moved to the foot of the bed to lie full-length between my spread legs. One hand folded itself round my cock to begin the expert fondling that would very soon have me erect and ready for business, and she looked up at me with a gratified shine in her eyes.

"Really, Uncle John," she added, "I'll never get to be a C-cup like Mom if you don't give me a hand, or a foot, or seven inches at least. 'Course," she went on with a wry look at her still far from mammoth tits, "I may never get to be a C-cup even with you helping me. But I'll get close enough."

And then she bent her head to suck and tickle my growing peter, which fed out in its erect glory through her hands like line from a fishing reel. The hand that had originally gripped it near its head was far down the root as my organ reached its nearly full growth.

Dianna's sucking had a marvelous relaxing quality in its girlish enthusiasm. You could let yourself go peacefully and trust her to do everything that was necessary to bring you to shattering climax. She approached my cock each time as though it were her very first blowjob, and each time she brought something new to the experience, something that elevated a cocksucking from the level of mere pleasure to that of artistic creation.

This was no exception. As soon as Dianna had teased and tingled my peter to stiffness, to a magic spell which could be broken only by the power of ejaculation, she let it glide from between her slurping lips. Lying between my legs she poked at my rod with a fingertip, bouncing it from side to side.

"Can you flex it back and forth?" she challenged.

I was in no mood to play games. My entire body craved the release she was withholding. "Please, Dianna," I begged. "You said Jennifer would be here very soon."

"Oh, there's plenty of time," she stated. "Go ahead. Flex it for me. I want to see if the muscles in your cock are as strong as the muscles in your arms."

Obediently, for there was no other way to persuade her to continue, I began to work the muscles that controlled my prick. I made a few tentative motions left and right. Dianna looked up at me with an expression akin to disappointment.

"Is that all you can do?" she frowned.

"Yes," I muttered, "now, please suck me off."

"Gee," she said. "One of the guys I knew at that military school in Virginia could make his go left, right, up and down. He called it making the sign of the cross." She giggled at the memory, then looked back up at me innocently. "What should I do next, sir?"

"Put it in your mouth and eat it," I snarled, nearly mad from the pressure of a pent-up orgasm.

"Oh," she said wide-eyed. And then she bent her head and fastened her mouth very gently around one of my balls.

"Christ!" I breathed. The touch was both agonizing and exhilarating.

While I was still trembling with the exquisite pain she opened her mouth wider and drew my sack of delicate contents inside, her lips protecting them from accidental nips of her sharp little teeth, the saliva of her activated mouth glands spilling across my bag of goodies. As she lolled them in the hot damp treasure box of her mouth the sperm-choked balls knocked against one another. A spasm of nigh-unendurable pleasure coursed up and down my body from toes to the tip of the longest hair on my head, but centered in the sperm canal that seemed by now to fill the entire length of my cock.

I looked down my body and saw droplets of cum forming in the slot that opened the tip of my peter. They rolled down the underside of my organ toward the bag of balls Dianna was caressing, and I could feel the dripping progress of each premature pearl of bliss across my sensitive flesh.

Now Dianna put her hands to work. One clutched the shaft that jutted and shook above her head, the fingers of the other darting suddenly and shockingly into the puckered ring of my ass. I was unprepared for the direction of her probe and she moaned round my testicles as my brown hole tightened cruelly upon her finger.

By this time my senses were afire, and each nerve that flowed into my brain said only one word and that word was "Come!"

"Come!" With a mighty force of effort I relaxed the muscles that controlled my anal opening and her index and middle fingers slipped in me to their full extension. Her delving digits revolved back and forth in a semicircular movement, spreading and reaming my hole, and her mouth continued to provide my balls with endless agony and joy.

"Dianna, please-" I whispered, my voice rattling like a dying man's. "I'm going to shoot my cum into your pretty hair if you don't hurry up."

But she was in no hurry, even if I was, and it was in her own leisurely way that she let her lips slide off my tortured balls, the glide of her disconnection making them brush together once more. A huge bubble of semen spurted from the slit in my cock and I feared that the game was over all too soon.

She watched the pearly cum slide down my peter-head and licked it off halfway down the shaft. "Umm," she said, "and there's more where that came from."

"Plenty more," I agreed, "but you've got to make me come soon. I think I'm gonna die waiting."

"Oh, no, Uncle John," she assured me. "Dianna's little titties need the protein you make for them." And she buried my throbbing, aching penis deep within her mouth, one set of fingers steadying its base, the others still exploring the unfamiliar regions of my ass.

In and out went that steely rigid cock as she fucked her mouth up and down on its length. In and out, inexorably as the action of waves on the beach, she jabbed her sharp-nailed, long, stiff fingers, scratching ever so gently at my anal tube. Caught between the expert pleasures of her mouth and her finger I was helpless as leaves in the wind.

A stab from her fingers would thrust my ass up and my cock deep into her mouth; a squeeze of her thumb on the base of my peter would shove my body back against the mattress; and again the fingers would pierce deeply into my brown opening and I would be thrusting upward once more.

Then Dianna let my cock slip once more from her lips. The head gleamed like an icy road and she looked at it with a delighted expression.

"Look, Uncle John," she enthused, "how wet it is! It's just dripping from little Dianna's sucking and from the baby gushes of cum you've been letting slither out!

"Please," I implored her, "just suck it."

"It looks too pretty to eat," she teased, kissing it with a big smack, then rubbing her lips over and over the now raw and throbbing head.

I couldn't hold back any longer. The pop I heard swirling in my ears must have been totally imaginary, but the geyser spout of unstoppable cum that followed was certainly real. My juice shot out, drops landing in the part of Dianna's hair, on her forehead, on her eyelids, on her nose, on her surprised mouth and extended tongue, on her chin, on her neck, on the front of her blouse, in the cleavage of her young tits. And still it flowed forth! There was no stopping the roiling boiling gushes of semen that came from out my cock. My body shook and turned alternately cold and steamy. I trembled on the edge of a mighty precipice, everything going coal black then perilously clear in my throbbing eyes.

"You're wasting it!" Dianna squeaked in a Minnie Mouse voice, thrusting the still-foaming rod into the greedy pit of her mouth to suck up whatever cum she could salvage.

Dimly I was aware of a voice that grew nearer and nearer, hazy at first as though heard through a barrier-a door perhaps-and then clearer as though the barrier had been pulled away.

"Are you up here, John, love? Mrs. Thompson and I came home early because she was coming down with a headache and-Oh, my God! What in the name of heaven is going on in this house?!!!"

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

When I could bring myself to look toward the doorway, to face the shocked eyes of the woman I truly loved, I knew at once that everything was over for me and my short life of happiness.

Peggy stood motionless, one hand clutching the door knob in a death-grip, the other hanging limply at her side. Her face was contorted in amazement, and as I watched her I could see a tidal wave of nausea and disgust taking command of her features. The angry rays that shot forth from her stricken eyes paralyzed my body and soul. I could not have moved if Gabriel's trumpet had been blowing the call to judgment.

Dimly I was aware of Dianna gently slipping her wet and sticky mouth from my steadily drooping cock. The bed bounced ever so slightly as she crawled off it and fastened the front of her blouse once more.

Peggy's eyes darted from me to Dianna and back again till the constant shifting of her gaze must have dizzied her head. Tears were welling on the surface of her luminous blue eyes and rolling unchecked down her cheeks, streaking her mascara. The power that gripped her left me afraid to speak or even move, and my breath came in slow, hushed inhalations, while the increased pounding of my heart was visible on my bare chest as the flesh rose and fell in heaves.

And as I watched a tremor like the initial shock wave of an earthquake began to manipulate Peggy's body. Her knees started to shake, rippling the fabric of her slacks, and then her hips, and her breasts rose and fell like whitecaps on the ocean. The muscles of her neck tensed and contracted, and the tears gushed forth in rivulets across her cheeks. Her mouth gaped open in a choked gasping sob and some of her tears dripped between her quivering lips.

"Oh, God," she whispered, "what is going on in my house?"

"Shit," Dianna muttered softly, "I knew it was too good to last." She moved toward Peggy, as if to leave the room, but it was not to be. As the girl neared her mother I saw Peggy's hand fly up and strike Dianna squarely across the cheek of her semen-smeared face. Dianna stopped abruptly, fingers rubbing at the red stain that suddenly appeared on her jaw. And then Peggy turned to me.

Striding across the room like a colossus or an avenging angel, she stopped before me.

"You bastard," she hissed, "you rotten, low-life bastard! You son of a bitch! You goddamned son of a goddamned bitch! Wasn't I enough for you? Did you have to fuck my daughter too, goddamn you?" And then she flailed away at my face with her hands, first with the palms, then with the balls of her fists. The smacking resounded in the now so silent room like gunshots.

"A girl young enough to be your daughter, you motherfucking bastard!" she shrieked as she beat on me. Then she stopped suddenly to break into a laugh that would have been appropriate to a crone locked in a madhouse dungeon. "A girl young enough to be your daughter!" she shouted. "Goddamn you, she is your daughter. Didn't you even give that a thought before you let her stick your cock in her mouth?"

Breathless and exhausted, she let her hands fall limply to her sides once more as she glared at me and Dianna.

Dianna looked like a poleaxed steer. She came to her mother's side, taking her by the arms and turning her around to glare defiantly into her eyes.

"What the hell do you mean, I am his daughter?" she demanded. "What the hell do you mean, Mother?" Peggy's burst of rage had died within her and she let her tears and sobs take command of her emotions. Her head dropped against Dianna's and her arms encircled the teenager's waist as she pulled her daughter against her ample breast and wept uncontrollably into her face and hair.

Dianna looked across her mother's shoulder at me. "Just what was she talking about?" she asked. "She means I'm your step-daughter, doesn't she?"

I couldn't answer. Words failed me and the only thought that occupied my mind was the wish that there was indeed a just God who punished the guilty, who would send down a thunderbolt to strike me dead in this my most shameful hour.

My silence was inadequate for Dianna's need to know. She forced her mother's head upright and looked her squarely in the eyes. "Listen!" she said forcefully. "What did you mean about me being Uncle John's daughter? Is he my honest-to-God father?"

Peggy's eyes were glassy and she whimpered like a hurt puppy.

At last she pursed her lips in an effort to overcome the trembling that afflicted them. "Yes," she whispered in a voice that wavered on the edge of the grave. "Yes, yes, yes!" Her eyes averted from Dianna's to focus on me. "Tom wasn't your real father-John is. Oh, God, I think I'm going to die!"

Dianna released her tentatively, keeping her hands ready and steady to grip her once more in case she fell faint. When she saw that Peggy could stand alone she let her go.

"Wow," she whistled, "this is really freaky." Then she took hold of Peggy once more. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"We were going to," I interjected, astonished that I was still possessed of the power of speech. "When you were older."

"Goddamn," Dianna drawled, stretching the word into four syllables.

I got off the bed, my legs weak and watery, and approached Peggy. At the touch of my hand on her shoulder she spun around to glare at me like an angry cat.

"Don't put your fingers on me, you son of a bitch!"

Her words stung me harder than her puny though determined blows to my face. I drew back at once. Peggy brushed away past Dianna and raced out the door. A few moments later I heard the door of the guest room slam shut, followed by a heavy thump onto the mattress of the bed and the sound of racking sobs choked into something soft-a pillow, perhaps.

Dianna and I looked at one another, a wry smile turning up one comer of her mouth. She shook her head. "I guess I've really fucked your life up, haven't I, Uncle John?"

"Yes," I said quietly, "I guess we Have."

The subtle change of pronoun was not lost on the girl. She smiled in a bittersweet, apologetic way. Then we heard the sharp staccato rapping of our doorknocker downstairs.

"Oh, Christ," Dianna said. "It must be Jen. I forgot all about her." And she raced out of the room to descend the stairs. I followed her out onto the landing to watch as she opened the door.

"Hi," bubbled Jennifer. "You all ready to go?" Then, "Ye gods, Dianna, what happened to you? It looks like you were oh the losing end of a dog fight!"

"Look," I heard Dianna say, brushing her hair partially into place, "I can't go. Something's come up and I have to stay home tonight. You better go on without me."

"Shit," complained Jennifer. She held up a small bag. "I spent half the afternoon baking the brownies, too. I was counting on you, Dianna."

Dianna snapped the bag from her blonde friend's fingers. "Since it was my hash," she explained, "I think I'm entitled to these." Jen frowned. "Oh, all right," my daughter went on, "here, take a few. But I need all the rest."

Jennifer brightened as she extracted a few of the brownies and wrapped them in a tissue, stuffing them inside her Indian-style purse. "You sure you can't come?" she wheedled. "What's wrong, anyway?"

"I'm sure," Dianna stated, "and what's wrong isn't any of your fucking business."

Jen shook her head, then bent to kiss Dianna on the cheek. Her eyes went round and she dipped her head for another kiss. "Mmm," she said, "I think I have an idea. You taste pretty good, love."

Dianna turned the chubby blonde around on the doorstep and patted her gently on the ass. "It still isn't any of your fucking business," she said, "and I think you'd better get on your way. I'll see you tomorrow, maybe, and you can tell me all about the concert."

"Yeah," Jen replied, starting off the porch. "I'll see you."

Dianna shut the door and went into the kitchen. A few minutes later I saw her come out and make for the steps. She met me on the second floor landing, a smile beginning to lighten her pretty face. Without a word she zipped into the bathroom. T heard running water, and a few minutes later Dianna came out, clean and glowing, hair shining. A moist hand touched my shoulder and the eves that beamed up at me were hopeful.

"I think I'm gonna save your ass for you, Uncle John," she smiled.

Then she went to the door of the room in which Peggy still lay sobbing and weeping, and knocked softly. "Go away," came the muffled voice from inside.

"It's me," Dianna piped. "Can I come in?"

"No! Go away!"

Dianna shrugged at me as she took hold of the door knob and gave it a turn. It opened and she stepped inside. "Mom," I heard her begin in a soft tone.

Peggy's sharp voice cut like a knife. "Get out!" she spoke harshly. "Go fuck your daddy some more!"

"Is there anything I can get you?" Dianna asked in a tone that ignored Peggy's bitterness.

"Yes! You can get out of here, right now!" Peggy paused and I could imagine her looking at the attendant figure of her-of our-tall, slim daughter. "Bring me a bottle," she said in an abandoned voice.

"Of what?" Dianna asked innocently.

"Anything. Vodka, Scotch, gin-no, not gin. Leave that for your father!" The distaste of her tone left no doubt what she thought of me right then. "And some ice. Plenty of ice. And hurry up. I want to get drunk. Before I kill that son of a bitch who fathered you and then-"

Dianna hurried out the door, brushing past me once again.

"Don't go in," she warned me. "This is gonna take some time." And she sped down the stairs to the living room. I heard her opening the liquor cabinet and I saw her running into the kitchen. She came back very shortly with a bottle of vodka, a glass perched over its tip, and a plastic bag full of ice cubes. These she took in to Peggy, and very soon I heard the clink of ice in a glass.

Clearly there was no use waiting around. Peggy was still in no mood to talk to me, if she ever would be, and Dianna was the only one who could deal with her now. Although the child had a way with her mother, I was convinced there was no possibility of her being able to remedy things enough to save our marriage.

And there was no denying I deserved everything that had fallen upon my unwary shoulders. My conduct from first to last had been bestial and candidly I realized that our ultimate discovery had been predestined. Perhaps it was all for the best, if it removed Peggy from the company of such an unmitigated bastard as I was. I knew in the deepest sensibilities of my mind and heart that she had been too good for me from the first of our meetings so many years before. My only regret was not for me but for her. What would this do to her?

I toyed with the idea of suicide, to climb into a bathtub filled with warm, tingling water, and ever so gently slice the arteries in my wrists with a sharp razor blade-then just sit back and watch the colorless water turn rosebud pink as my lifeblood flowed out. Truly that was a philosopher's death, and as I pondered it I wondered if the ease of such a passing was conducive to the peace of mind and reassurance I craved so badly.

The idea was tempting-so much that, making a preliminary commitment to the expedient, I went down to my study and drafted a short, simple will. There was little to confuse issues. My property I bequeathed to Dianna and to Peggy. Obviously the insurance I carried was invalidated by a suicidal death, but I had plenty in real and personal property, as well as a hefty bank balance and a portfolio of lucrative investments, and the loss of the insurance money would be no great hardship to my survivors.

It was no difficult matter to make the necessary arrangements on paper, and I knew the document would hold up in court. I signed it, then folded the will and stuck it inside an envelope which I sealed. Sticking it into the typewriter I pecked out "TO BE OPENED IN THE EVENT OF MY DEATH" and sat back to look wonderingly at the cold words that took up so little space but meant so much when you were in my position at that moment.

I was still looking blankly at the words I had typed out, and at the long white envelope rolled partway out of my machine when a voice sounded behind me.

"Uncle John?"

I turned to Dianna.

"Maybe you better stay down here awhile," she went on. "This is gonna take me a bit of time, and it's best if you're not around while I'm working things out. Hey, what are you doing, anyway?" and before I could place my hand over the envelope and its telltale message she was staring amazedly at its inscription.

"Gods," she muttered, "what's this?" She stared at me.

"It's nothing," I began, "just something-"

"Jesus," she whispered, "you don't really think Mom's gonna shoot you or anything. Do you?"

"No," I assured her, "of course not-"

"Or," and realization suddenly hit her. "My God, Uncle John! You don't have in mind what I think you have in mind?" And before I could speak she had ripped the envelope from the typewriter and tom it and its contents to shreds which she dumped into the wastebasket by my desk. "Jesus," she scowled, "you act like the world has come to an end or something."

"Hasn't it?" I asked, smiling tragicomically.

"Oh, come off this act!" she blurted. "Look, god-damnit, I've told you a dozen times that I'm gonna fix things for you. And here you go putting on an act like Julius Caesar, about to fall on his own sword because he's been disgraced."

"It was Brutus," I corrected with a smile.

"One of those ancient fuckers," she snarled. "And when I get your life straightened out, you and I are going to have a little talk-one of those kind you used to try to give me, before you threw your hands up in the air and gave up and fucked me every time I spread my legs." She went to the door. "Now you just sit on your hands if you can't keep them away from the gas pipes any other way. I've gotta fix Mom something to eat. She's already half-loaded, and I don't want her up all night puking her guts out."

The sound of rattling pots and pans echoed from the kitchen, and I heard the scraping of a spoon as something was stirred, and the aroma of cooking food drifted down the hall. Eventually Dianna came along, a large tray spread with covered dishes in her hands.

"You better go in the kitchen and eat," she commented. "I imagine your tummy is empty as mine, and I left your supper on the table. Now get your ass in there before it gets cold."

The meal she had prepared was simple but tasty, composed of canned green beans and spinach as accompaniment to a couple of fried fish fillets. I ate greedily, surprised at my hunger, and washed it all down with a hefty glass of milk. Strange, how once my stomach was filled and my nerves had had some time to calm a little, the day's troubles didn't seem quite so pressing as before. Indeed, the whole idea of slicing my wrists in a steamy tub was so foolish I laughed aloud in spite of myself.

I started back to my office-cubbyhole, intent upon doing some more legal work just to keep my mind occupied, but when I opened the kitchen door and stepped into the hall there visited my ears a strange sound. Someone else in the house was laughing-weird indeed, in view of the day's events-and the musical trill of joy had to be coming from the lips of my darling Peggy. No one else could express mirth quite so infectiously.

Had Dianna indeed begun to succeed in what I had deemed her impossible task of salvaging the ruins of my wrecked life? Not a chance, I thought, but on the other hand, what did that glorious and delightful laughter-which I had only just now been so sure I would never hear again-what did it mean?

I went to the foot of the steps and listened intently. Yes, it was true. Peggy was laughing like a schoolgirl-just as she had when we were in college so many years before and used to have snowball fights on the Green on our way to classes. The weight of the past rolled off me like a castoff blanket and my heart danced in abandoned glee to think that my true love could still give her heart to joy.

Heedless of the potential danger I slipped up the stairs with the silence of an Indian, hesitating briefly at the top to screw up my courage. The sounds that delighted my ears were so seductive that I had no recourse but to steal to the almost-closed door of the guest room.

Hums and whimpers and delicious laughter sounded, and if I could only bring myself to push open the door perhaps I might be able to join in it. Perhaps the storm was over and love had conquered evil as the ancient sages say it shall on that last day of time and trouble.

Yes, damn it, I thought, and I gave a small shove to the unsecured barrier that lay between me and my darlings. The door slid inward as I touched it and I raised my eyes from the knob to the bed.

And stood stock-still in shocked amazement!

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Peggy's slacks lay on the floor, hastily tossed aside from all appearances, and she lay on the soft mattress, completely nude from the waist down, her long lovely legs twitching and writhing. Her blouse was opened all the way, and her bra had been unclasped and pulled free of her tits. The nipples were peaking in nail-sharp erection and the round full mounds of her breasts danced up and down as she laughed and gurgled.

On the bed beside her, naked as the day she was born, lay Dianna. The sinuous grace of her adolescent body contrasted beautifully with Peggy's womanly maturity, and I thought insanely that never before in the history of mankind had two such gorgeous creatures lived and how unfair it was that they were mother and child, my wife and my long-lost daughter.

Dianna's snake-like tongue was delving ticklishly in Peggy's oval belly-button, pushing into the blind hole now, streaking playfully round and round its rim in alternate approaches. Her fingers teased and twined in her mother's dark bush, their nails rubbing gently at the lips of Peggy's cunt. As I watched Peggy let her legs spread wide, exposing the treasure of her vulva to Dianna's exploring hand, and the child's nimble digits slipped inside briefly, as if in training for service as the demon of tantalization.

Peggy's eyes were closed and I don't think she was aware of my presence at all. Her head lolled back on the pillow and I saw one hand slip up from her side to cup a full breast and squeeze delicately at a jutting nipple.

Dianna licked happily at her mother's navel, her tongue sliding southward across that matured and beautiful belly, her teeth catching at some of the short, almost invisible fluffy hairs that covered the region between bush and navel. Peggy writhed at the little hurt as her peach fuzz was pulled, and her groin arched upward, driving Dianna's probing finger deeper into that sucking cunt.

I stood watching in amazement and puzzlement. What in the name of God was happening here? My wife and daughter in what looked to me like the opening stages of a lesbian encounter? And in view of what had happened only an hour or so earlier? It was totally unbelievable!

Dianna's eyes glanced upward to take in my figure framed in the doorway. I saw her head shake "no" almost imperceptibly but clearly enough to me, and her lips temporarily raised from her mother's stomach to form in a way so clear that even a poor lip reader could interpret them easily, the words "get the fuck out of here-now!"

I stood not upon the order of my going, but went at once. Pulling the door completely shut behind me I stood numbly in the hall for a long time, unable to comprehend what I had seen. Oh, I understood all right what was happening. Who wouldn't? Dianna was getting ready to eat Peggy's twat. That was obvious. But why?

And then the house echoed with a shrill squeal. It was Peggy, as I was aware when I heard the sound. I had done the peeping-Tom bit with Dianna and Jennifer a few days ago, and the initial reluctance to snoop and sneak that I had felt was not so strong now. With fewer qualms I knelt and looked through the keyhole.

The bed was slightly out of line with the tiny point of vision available to me, but I could see the lower half of Peggy's body fairly clearly, and I could see that Dianna's mouth was now fastened upon her mother's cunt, and from the flopping and floundering of Peggy's hips, ass and legs, it was clear that my wife was enjoying her daughter's efforts no little bit. Again that shrieking yell, and I leaped away from the keyhole as though I were a child who had been caught masturbating in private. My heart was pounding and my cock was hard as steel.

I went back to Peggy's and my bedroom and sat down upon the bed where Dianna and I had been discovered in carnal knowledge this afternoon. Here I tried to arrange my thoughts-to straighten out what was happening to my life. But the sounds of lust and pleasure from the other room were so loud that concentration was impossible. Despite my every endeavor I could only hear Peggy shouting and laughing as she rode her way into orgasmic surrender.

Abruptly the noises stopped, and Peggy began to hum and keen in a low penetrating alto. And then the bed started to creak once more, and this time the noises my darling gave forth were like nothing I had ever heard before, except for some of the occasions when she and I had made love countless times in succession, stopping only when our bodies rebelled against us and forced upon us the surcease of sleep. And as I listened the bed began to shake and bounce like a trampoline and Peggy screamed a Satanic cackling yell of triumph and suddenly all noises ceased.

A long, long time, it seemed, went by, although I did not check the clock, and Dianna came down the hall on cat feet. She peered round the slightly open door of the room I occupied, and a smile brightened her face like sunshine after a rain. Crooking a finger, she motioned me to her. I arose and stepped to her side.

Signing me to Ssshh Dianna led me downstairs and into my office. She closed the door behind us and indicated for me to sit down.

"Honey," I began, "what in the world were you-"

"Look," she said, "it was the only way to get you and Mom out of the mess I got you into. You'll see, Uncle John. Before sunup tomorrow everything is gonna be all right."

"I still don't understand."

She grinned at me. "Okay, then, I'll explain it to you. But only one time, so listen close. See, Mom got really pissed off because she caught me blowing you. Right? Well, I figured that if I got it on with her too, she wouldn't have so much to bitch about on you. Doesn't that sound logical?"

"No," I admitted, "it doesn't."

"Oh, shut up, Uncle John," she scowled. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Your mother was drunk. You said so yourself."

"So were you, the first time we did it."

"I was not!" I defended.

"You weren't straight. And neither was Mom. Did you hear me and Jen talking about some brownies when she came over this evening? Well, they were what you might call Mexican specials. You know, laced with some good-quality hash. I slipped two or three of them into Mom's supper, and she got kind of high. Then I went to work on her."

I nodded. "So I could hear."

"Wow," Dianna went on. "I think I can see why you fell in love with her. She's one sexy lady. Anyway, the job is half done."

"Half?" I asked.

"Yeah, half. She's asleep now, I figure she should be out for a couple of hours anyhow. I made sure she didn't drink enough of that goddamned booze-that stuff oughta be outlawed, you know-to get sick and hung over. So when she comes out of it, I'm gonna go back up and we're gonna make it again."

She smiled hopefully. "That oughta do the trick. If she'll make it with me straight, then she doesn't have any more room to criticize you. I mean, I'm a pretty good piece of ass, if you want to be frank about it. I know it, and you know it, and Mom is gonna know it. And she'll see that once you tried me out there was nothing you could do but keep on banging at the old goodie-box."

"Dianna, that is insane."

"Maybe so, maybe so," she smiled. "And you and I have some things to talk about while she's asleep. This time we're gonna be straight." She stood up, and began to undo her blouse once more, throwing it briskly to her side. Then she unfastened the top of her jeans and slid them down her slim legs to stand naked before me.

"Come on, Uncle John," she said, her hand outstretched.

And, God help me, despite everything that had happened today, I rose to her command and made no protest as she undid my pants and tugged them to my ankles. Guided by her hands I stepped out of them, and she yanked my shorts down and laid them atop my discarded trousers.

"You've gotta go topless too," she teased, and I found my fingers undoing my buttons and slipping off the shirt.

My cock was tense already, from the unbelievable sights I had seen upstairs, and from the all-too familiar sounds I had heard, and from the presence now of Dianna's adolescent charms, and the simple touch of her fingertips jerked it to pulsating stiffness.

"Hmm," she observed, "that was quick. But we've got some time, so you don't have to rush things." And then she was on her knees before me, sucking and licking, her fingers cradling my balls and rubbing my perineum. Tentatively one sharp-nailed tip poked at my anal opening and I strove to relax myself to allow the penetration.

But the tender invasion I was expecting failed to materialize. Her touch was only a tease and a put-on, and her fingers slid downward to tug at the hair on my upper thighs.

At last she looked up at me, my cock sliding from her mouth to glisten wet and hard, and she spoke. "Okay, Uncle John." Dianna turned around and went down on her hands and knees, her ass thrust up round and promising. "Come on and fuck me, Uncle John!" she whispered, wiggling her hips in my direction.

My cock commanded me and I knelt behind her, taking the shaft in my hand to tease it round her opening lips.

"Put it in!" she ordered, and I slipped an inch through the velvet mouth of her cunt, reveling in the quiver of her buttocks as I made the initial penetration.

Gently, as befitted a father and daughter, I let my gorging peter make its way slowly into her body. The tantalization of our encounter had made me more aroused than ever before, and the shaft of my dick must have seemed enormous to her.

But like a dutiful child Dianna took it without a whimper, her only comment on my activities being the increased activity of her jelly ass during the insertion of my entire length. When our bodies came together and the whole cock was buried in her sweet clutching pussy, she hissed, "Okay, let's fuck!" and she began to swivel and sway and shake and jerk and grind herself toward and away from me, leaving me no choice but to screw right along with her.

We had never fucked one another in dog-fashion before, and when I let my hands slide along her sweaty body to clutch at her apple tits it was as if I were be ginning a new life. I squeezed and kneaded the firm but quivering flesh, thankful that my fingernails were very short and not likely to dig into her baby breasts.

Her hips jerked back and forth and from side to side as I relentlessly fed her my meat, and in the united passion of our fucking we were no longer father and child but instead merely a rampant stud and a horny girl.

I was leaning low across her back as we screwed one another, my hands clutching and clawing at her tits, my hot breath flowing alongside her neck and into her hair, still moist from her shower. Her body was wet and damp and sweating, her smell fresh and fragrant and erotic as hell. One of my hands stole from her tit to rub at her exposed clitoris and the touch sent her into nirvana.

"Wheu, wheu, wheu," she panted softly, and her body sprawled beneath me, flat-out on the carpet. I fell with her, momentarily crashing the breath from her body, my cock still thrusting in and out to the root in her sucking cunt.

"Oh," she said, "don't shoot off in me, please," her voice choked and gasping.

I was just on the verge of dropping a steamy stew of love-juice into her hot tunnel, but obedient to her command I ceased humping on the double. "What's wrong, baby?" I asked, sunk within her to the base of my trembling penis.

She slid forward as far as she was able, which wasn't far because of my weight upon her back, but far enough to uncunt most of my steely length. I cooperated and let the rest of my dick slip out of her moist opening, then rolled off her to lie upon my back at her side.

She twisted round and lay with her head near my crotch. "Please," she said, "let me blow you the rest of the way off." The plea in her voice was one that I could not refuse, so I took hold of her head and guided it to the immediate area of my thrusting cock.

Beyond that Dianna needed no direction. She formed her mouth into a lovely "o" that slipped around the head of my organ, ingesting it far down her swan-like throat.

Up and down, up and down, ever and deliciously up and down danced the pretty maid's warm mouth, taking me deeper into her gullet than ever before. And down in my balls the sperm was building up and crying aloud for release, all the more deliciously because the moment of truth was so near-near-near.

Dianna sensed the imminence of her eagerly awaited sperm cocktail and she sped up the tempo of her beautiful suckling. My body fell and rose under her ministrations, the action of my pounding hips collaborating with her blowing to force the head of my dick farther and farther down her throat. How she could take it so deeply without gagging I did not know, nor did I wish to know. All that mattered to me then was the love and tenderness and expertise that she brought to the act of fellatio and the spurting reward that I should so very soon give her for her talents.

And then it came, streaming forth down the interminable length of my shaft, into her contracting jaws. My cum ran like the Mississippi at flood time, bulging her jaws out on each gush. Dianna gulped loudly and prettily with each swallow, and then she slipped her mouth off my cock, her fingers wrapping round it to jack up and down.

"No," I protested weakly, "that's all-I don't have any more cum to give you."

"There's always more," she replied, her words slurry from the gobs of previously shot juice that coated the inside of her mouth and the pinkness of her tongue, and her hand continued to jerk me, and with the suddenness of thought my balls gave a convulsive quiver and I knew that still another gob of pleasure remained there, but not for long.

Dianna jerked hard, hard, hard, and poised her open mouth half an inch above the tip of my rod. One last yank on the shaft and there squirted forth a sticky blob of white cream that flew into her waiting throat. I fell back, depleted and gripped by sensations that I could only feel, never describe.

"One to grow on," she grinned, smacking her lips avidly. Her hand still gripped the shaft of my peter but the instrument was visibly diminishing.

"You get some rest now," she said, planting a kiss on the softened tip. A hand reached down to pat my belly. "You get some rest too-Daddy." And she was gone, as swiftly as though she had never been there.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Wearily I dressed. I needed a shower and some sleep. But when I got upstairs the bathroom door was closed and water was running. I took a look down the hall. The guest room door was still shut, and there wasn't a sound coming out. Gently I slipped the door open enough to look inside. Peggy, nude and lovely, was sprawled on the bed, sleeping like a baby.

As I shut the door and backed away I ran into Dianna. She was approaching from the direction of the bathroom wearing one of her flowery nightshirts and a pair of bunny rabbit slippers. She sparkled with cleanliness and her breath was freshly scented with Lavoris.

"Is Mom still asleep?" she asked. I nodded. "Well," she went on, "you'd better get cleaned up and get a little rest. I think you're gonna need some strength for tomorrow."

"What does that mean?" I whispered, but she was already stepping inside the room where her mother lay dozing. The door closed behind her.

I climbed into the shower, thinking drolly of my fantasy of suicide. If nothing else, the encounter with Dianna on the floor of my study had proven to me once more that life could be beautiful and that it was a fool who took leave of it before his time. If Peggy still intended to kill me, I thought, then I wouldn't prevent her from exercising her justified wrath; but as for myself, I had no intentions now or ever of ending it all of my own volition.

Showered and refreshed I went into the bedroom Peggy and I had shared until my profanation of our nuptial couch with the irresistible Dianna, and stretched out upon the bed that had known both joy and pain. Sleep lay upon me like an ardent sex mate and not even the mysterious moans and laughs that began to drift into my weakening consciousness could prevent me from surrendering my body to Morpheus and my soul to whatever fates awaited me on the morrow.

I awoke early next morning and went downstairs to fix coffee and toast. As an afterthought I fried a few strips of bacon, then sat down to eat. I pecked at this meager meal like a satiated bird, however, stirring idly with my spoon in the coffee cup till I imagined a hole must be wearing in the bottom of it.

"Good morning, Daddy," came a voice, and Dianna entered the kitchen, still dressed in her nightshirt and slippers, her hair up in curlers. "Did you sleep okay?" she asked solicitously as she piled a heap of bacon into the skillet. As soon as it began to sizzle she started to mix up some scrambled eggs in a bowl.

I grunted something in a self-pitying way, and she looked up at me, beaming across her mixing bowl. "Look," she smiled, "I told you everything would be fine today," her voice lilting and peacock-proud. "And have I ever lied to you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

She took the bacon out of the skillet and set it draining on some napkins. Then she poured the egg mixture into the frying pan and stirred at it with a plastic spatula.

"You and Mom," she continued. "Hey, her breakfast will be ready in a couple of minutes. Why don't you pour some orange juice? Is the toast still warm? Okay, put a couple of slices on a little plate, and dab some grape jelly on them. Just a bit. I'll get the eggs and bacon."

Together we assembled the elements of Peggy's breakfast, arranging it on a tray. Dianna handed it to me.

"What's this?" I asked.

"Take her breakfast up, silly," she replied. "No, really. Take her breakfast up. I don't think she'll shoot you."

"Or even bite my head off?" I asked sarcastically.

A gleaming twinkle stole into Dianna's eyes. "That she might do," she admitted. "But keep your pants zipped up till she asks you to take them off, and you ought to be all right."

Resignedly I took the tray in hand and set off for the room Peggy had chosen to occupy, Dianna bringing up the rear, her little slippers flapping as she walked. The door was closed, and I tapped at it testingly.

"Go ahead," Dianna urged, her hand turning the door knob, then pushing me forward as the portal swung open.

Peggy sat in bed, covers around her waist, her bare breasts smiling at me.

"Good morning, love," she smiled.

"How are you this morning?" I asked, determined to play her game if she was indeed playing one.

"Fine," she replied. "Set that down on the stand and come over here." I did as she commanded, pausing on my feet within the reach of her arms.

"Closer." I moved nearer. "No," she said, "sit down here beside me." Peggy slid over on the bed and patted the mattress. I sat down, unsure what was coming next. For all I knew she had a pistol or a knife beneath the pillow and was only awaiting her chance to use it on me.

But her hands sought my face, not a weapon, and she pulled my head close enough to kiss and nibble my lips. I responded eagerly, as I always did where Peggy was concerned, and she placed one of my hands upon her breast, thrusting it forward so that I might grip it all the better.

"John, love," she said at last, breaking off our kiss, "a lot has happened since yesterday.

"For one thing, Dianna knows everything that you and I have kept within our hearts all these many years. We spent a great deal of the morning talking-mostly about you and me. And we also did some other things."

"I know," I whispered. "You weren't too quiet."

Peggy blushed a little. "And she told me exactly how you and she-the time by the pool. And all the other times as well." She smiled. "I just want you to know that I don't plan on holding it against you. After all, I wouldn't be quite fair if I did. You didn't know she was your blood daughter when you started fucking her, and she didn't know it herself until yesterday.

"And besides, I'm not in any position to be casting stones myself now. Really, John, I had never done anything like that before. Ever. In my whole life. But it was really a beautiful experience. I feel that now I know Dianna so much better than ever before. And I suppose you must feel the same way.

"So," she went on, "I think it's time for us to start being a real family. No, I don't want any breakfast. John, get out of your clothes and get into bed with me at once. I want you to fuck me to death. Now!" And her hands began to fumble with my buttons and belt and there was nothing I could do but complete what she had started. Dropping my garments to the floor I slid into the bed beside her.

Peggy looked up at Dianna who stood by the door, her chest expanding with pride as she watched her mother and father lying together in the bed.

"Come on, dear," said my wife to our daughter, and she patted the bed on the other side. "There's room for you too. There'll always be room for you too."

Dianna smiled like the Mona Lisa. "No," she said. "I mean, you and Daddy-" and Peggy beamed with joy to hear Dianna use the word that meant so much to us, that seemed to justify the sacrifices our love had caused us over so many years-"you and Daddy have your own thing going, and it's really great, and I don't believe I ought to horn in on it anymore."

She came to the bed then, and kissed each of us softly, like a virgin daughter greeting her parents, and stood back smiling.

"I love you both," she said in a voice that trembled, "as much as you love each other. Now why don't you two get it on? I want to hear some bedsprings squeaking in here," she teased, and, turning, darted out the door.

Down the hall we could hear the water in the shower begin to flow and splash in accompaniment to a pure, girlish soprano that lifted and trilled as Dianna sang and bathed. The song was sweet and plaintive, and its warmth spread across my own heart as we listened.

"She's growing up," Peggy husked into my ear. "Our little girl is finally growing up."

"So are her parents," I replied. "Now, babe, let's get those bedsprings rumbling. We don't want to disappoint her, do we?"

"Oh, no," Peggy agreed as I rolled atop her, my cock hungry for the sweetness of her body, my soul starving for the treasure of her love.

THE END
Daddy Does It Best ....(97k)    by Michael Schumann




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