Chapter 4
(Mg, Mb, fondle, oral, inter, inc)
While Filly is at church, Frank discovers a few new young playmates at the pool...
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Felicity woke me by gently nudging my left shoulder. She put her right forefinger to her lips, and beckoned me to follow her with her left forefinger. I eased out of bed, tiptoed out of the bedroom, gently closed the door, and followed my daughter down the stairs to the living room.
"You fucked Pauline last night?"she said accusingly. "And ate Wendy's pussy? Why didn't you wake me up?"
"I didn't think about it. Pauline didn't give me much time to think. It's not every day that I find a horny naked girl wanting me to fuck her in my dining room. Then, all of a sudden, sexy little Wendy appears, wanting to ride my beard."
"Ride your beard?"
"Yeah."
"I want to ride your beard."
"Your mother could wake up, and come down those stairs at any moment."
"You owe me."
"Tomorrow morning after she goes to work. Sooner if possible," I promised. "Where is everybody?"
"They went home to put their Sunday dresses on. Not only are we going to Sunday School and church, we're expected to go to a fucking potluck picnic after church."
"Why do you go?"
"Peggy and Wendy's parents are born again Christians, and they only approve of their kids hanging out with us because we go to church with them. Some Christians! I'm pretty sure the preacher's fucking Mrs. Long, and Pauline says she's sure that Mr. Long is a closet queer. And he's a high muckety muck at the church. A beacon, or something."
"Deacon?"
"Whatever."
"What makes you think the preacher's fucking Mrs. Long?"
"She's the preacher's part time secretary, and she's in the choir, and she helps with almost all of the church's activities. It's the way they look at each other. And I'm pretty sure I nearly caught them smooching once. I got sick in Sunday School. I barfed on the floor. I went to the restroom, and barfed a little more, and felt better, so I didn't go back to the classroom. I wandered around. I saw Mrs. Long and the preacher real close together. He saw me, and they moved away from each other real quick. And acted like they hadn't done anything wrong. I *know* when people are acting. And they were acting. So I acted like I didn't see anything. But I'm an actress. You can't tell when I'm acting."
"I'll have to remember that."
"I don't have any reason to lie to you, Dad. Not anymore."
"And I'll be honest with you too, you hot little fucking slut."
"You love it. Don't you? You love me being a fucking slut."
"Yes, Baby. I do. I really love it. Eavesdropping on you and Sarge was a shock. And the most shocking thing was getting turned on by listening to my little girl talk dirty to men who are your grandfather's age. I almost had an orgasm, hearing your beautiful voice saying that you love being a fucking slut. Hearing you saying that you wanted two cocks at once. I suppose a ‘good father' would have been outraged, and stormed into the apartment to rescue his daughter from that baby-raping pedophile. Instead I was tempted to break in and beg y'all to let me watch and jack off."
"You really want to watch me fuck!?!"
"Okay, I know I shouldn't, but... Yes, Baby. I do. I am so fucking perverted. I not only want to watch, I want to help. I want to hold another man's cock in my hand and guide it into your cunt. And hearing Sarge eat your pussy after he fucked you makes me want to eat your pussy after another man has fucked you, and filled it with cum. I want to taste other men's semen in your cunt and your mouth. I visualized Sarge, and Riley, and Alex, and Mr. Whipple, and Larry, and Grandpa O'Hara, standing around you, jacking off, and showering you with cum, and me, licking your body clean."
"Don't you want to fuck me?"
"Yes, Baby. More than anything. But I'm afraid I'm too big for you. And I would never ever do anything to hurt you."
"Yeah. I don't know if I'm ready for that monster yet. But I do want you to fuck me, Daddy. I sometimes dream about us fucking."
We heard the toilet flush.
Felicity jumped up on me, wrapping her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. She kissed my mouth, slipping her tongue between my lips.
"Your Mom could...-"
"She does the same thing every morning. She pees, then brushes her teeth, then shaves, then goes back to her bedroom, and gets dressed before coming down."
I kissed her passionately, caressing her back with my left hand caressing her left thigh with my right hand, slowly sliding up to her butt.
"You're not wearing panties!"
"I almost never wear panties," she giggled.
"Damn! You really are a hot little slut, " I said carrying her to the kitchen and setting her on the serving counter. I spread her legs and kissed her plump pudenda, then licked, and sucked, and nibbled. I could hear the hum of her mother's electric shaver until Felicity's moans became too loud.
She suddenly pushed my head away, and hopped down, straightening her dress.
"I thought I heard moaning," Nellie said.
"Yeah," Felicia said. "I stubbed my toe on that damn new trash can. I'm not used to it being there."
"Watch your language, young lady!"
"Yes, Ma'am. Sorry."
Nellie turned, and went back upstairs.
"That was too close. How did you know she was coming down?"
"The next to the top and the fourth step down squeaks when you step on them."
"That was too close. I think my heart actually stopped."
A knock at the back door signaled Pauline's return. Felicity told her best friend what had just transpired. They left, telling me they wouldn't return until around 2 o'clock. I suddenly felt alone and lonely.
Nellie was in our bedroom, dressing.
I went into the bathroom, and started to masturbate. Then decided to save my sexual energy for my daughter and her friends. I had been masturbating a lot lately.
Nellie stepped out of our bedroom as I came out of the bathroom. She wore sandals with 1" heels, white shorts and halter top. She had small breasts. She had been practically flat chested before she got pregnant with Felicity. I had told her that anything over a mouthful was a waste. Now, each was almost a handful, and I have fairly large hands. They're not big enough to jiggle when she walks.
"What would you like for breakfast?" I asked. "I'm in the mood for pancakes."
"Pancakes will be fine," was her unenthusiastic reply.
We shared cooking duties. During the week, she worked 9-5 and I worked from 2 to 10p.m. We usually had cold cereal for breakfast, fend for yourself lunch, and she cooked supper. I came home for supper, which was usually served on TV trays. I cooked on weekends.
Usually I was asleep when she went to work, and she was usually asleep when I got home. The less we saw of each other, the better we got along.
"Did Felicity sound sarcastic when she apologized for cursing?" Nellie asked.
"Borderline," I said. "But she's getting to the sarcastic, eye-rolling age. Ten, going on 21."
"We'll have to nip that in the bud. I'll not tolerate insubordination."
"Good luck with that. Come down on her too hard, and you'll incite an insurrection."
"You're not going to back me up?"
"It's always been my policy to take the path of least resistance."
"So I've noticed."
I wasn't going to ask what she meant by that, because I didn't want to hear another rant about my lack of ambition. She once said, "Most men have a fear of failure. You have a morbid fear of success."
I liked my job. I enjoyed my job. Well, not actually the copy editing. I took that job because I needed a little break from reporting. I got bored, covering city hall. It got to the point where I could write a city council meeting story the day before the meeting, and it would be fairly accurate. And then there was the unfortunate incident at a council workshop meeting where councilman Ruiz claimed that I had misquoted him. I played a tape, showing that the quote had been verbatim and in context. I then indelicately said, "You're a fucking idiot."
That didn't go over very well. Ann took me off of city hall and put me on the copy desk, where I stayed for a little over two years. It wasn't bad. I liked helping the rookies hone their writing skills. But I was beginning to hear the call of the streets again. I was an observer, an investigator, a reporter. I wanted to get back to writing.
After breakfast, I said, "I feel like taking a dip. Want to join me?"
"Not now," she replied.
I put on a jockstrap and boxer style swim trunks. I was going to have to buy a new jockstrap. The elastic leg straps were a little stretched out. I tucked my cock in, and snuggled the crotch up as much as I could. Then grabbing a beach towel I went to the pool, where I dove in and swam a few laps.
"Hi, Mr. Harris."
I looked up, and saw cherubic 6-year-old Bethany Gibbs standing on the bank, looking down at me. She wore a blue one piece swimsuit that she had almost outgrown. If the Pillsbury doughboy was black and had a sister, she would look like Bethany. She had baby fat boobs, and a prominent pudenda. She gave me a naughty grin that told me she knew about me and her friend, Wendy.
"Good morning, Bethany. How are you doing?"
"I'm fine."
Her mother, who was a 5' tall version of Bethany with a medium Afro, wasn't in hearing distance, so I looked directly at her crotch, licked my lips, and whispered, "You certainly are fine."
She looked around, giggled. Her hip gyration was barely perceptible to anyone who wasn't almost directly under her in the water.
Again, I made a show of licking my lips. "Where's Wendy?"
"She went to church with her parents and Peggy and Filly and Paulie."
"Did you talk to her before she went?"
She nodded and giggled naughtily.
"She wasn't supposed to tell on me."
"She didn't. But she told me about riding a man's beard. There's three men with beards around here. Old Man Whittiker, who must be a hundred years old. And there's Mr. Kraft, who's just gross. There's always bits of food, and tobacco spit, and stuff in his beard, and he hates kids. And, I knew that she spent the night at your apartment last night."
"Excellent deduction. The circumstantial evidence is overwhelming."
"Huh?"
"I'm trusting you to not go around blabbing to everyone."
"I won't. I promise," she said sitting down.
Dangling her feet in the water and bending over to get close she said, "Wendy told me that the man who did it for her would be in really deep shit if anyone found out. I'm really really good at keeping secrets."
"Excellent. Then you won't tell anyone that I told you that I think you are so fucking sexy."
She giggled and turned crimson. "I think that you are so fucking sexy too. I wish I could ride your beard sometime."
"I would love to have you ride my beard. I hope we can find the opportunity soon."
I kicked away from the bank and swam some more. My cock somehow escaped the confines of the jockstrap. I dove to the bottom of the deep end, with my chest skimming the bottom as I tucked my disobedient appendage back into the confines of the inadequate athletic supporter. I would purchase a couple at Nash's Sporting goods Monday. I hated Texas' Blue Laws. The word about separation of church and state hadn't made it to The Lone Star State.
"Mr. Harris! Mr. Harris! Could you launch us?" An 8 or 9 year old boy, whose name I couldn't remember, asked.
"Please," Bethany begged. "Pretty please?"
"Leave Mr. Harris alone," Bethany's mother, whose name I also couldn't remember, admonished. "Let him enjoy his day off."
There were eight kids; three boys and five girls, ranging in age from 5 to 9 or 10.
I launched each of them twice before my legs gave out on me. The 5-year-old, Juanita, launched straight up, instead of up and forward. She straddled my face when she came down. I went underwater with her and gently nibbled her crotch before coming back up.
"That's it. I can go no more. I'm going to have to start doing deep knee bends to get into shape."
"I'll do it," a big woman said. She looked like she could play offensive tackle for the Cowboys. At first glance, I thought she was fat. But she was solid. Her legs were muscular. She launched them higher than I ever could.
I backed up into the southwest corner of the deep end, with my arms on the bank, and watched the kids frolic. Suddenly, a small hand squeezed my cock through my trunks and jockstrap.
Bethany popped up in front of me, giggling. "Bethany said that you have a monster cock... a fucking python. I felt it grow big in my hand."
"How many men's cocks have you played with?"
She shut her mouth tightly.
"I'm not asking who. I'm asking how many."
"Two."
"Men or boys?"
"Men. I played with three boys... no. Four."
"I think I like you," I whispered. "I like girls who like being naughty."
"I like being naughty," she giggled, putting her arms around my neck. "I like it a lot."
"Bethany!" her mother shouted. "Leave Mr. Harris alone. Quit bugging him."
"Your daughter certainly isn't shy," I chuckled.
"I'm Bunny," the mother said. She was standing above us, but couldn't see my left hand rubbing her daughter's 6-year-old swimsuit clad crotch.
"Frank," I said, extending my right hand to shake hers.
"Bethany doesn't take to many men, but when she does, she can become a pest. Do you have a daughter?"
"Felicity. She's 10, going on 21."
"Is Felicity one of your friends?" Bunny asked, surprised by the age difference.
"Wendy's sister, Peggy, is Filly's friend, and Peggy has to take Wendy with her wherever she goes, so I hang out with Wendy sometimes. Wendy's 7. She came to my birthday party. Remember?"
I said, "Our apartment has sort of become the gang's hangout on weekends, when they're not in the pool or the laundromat."
"You like kids?"
"Most of the time. I give them their space and they give me mine."
Bethany piped up, "Wendy says that Mr. Harris don't treat them like dumb little kids. He talks to them the same way he talks to adults. She said that he makes them feel kind of grown up."
"I had an uncle like that when I was a kid," Bunny said. "Uncle Willard, my mother's brother. Mom and Pop would get onto him for cussing around us. And he reminded Mom that she cussed when she was a kid, and shouldn't expect her kids to be any more innocent than she was when she was a kid."
My phallus once again freed itself from my inadequate athletic supporter, and Bethany's left foot brushed up against it. She giggled naughtily.
Bunny, assuming that Bethany was giggling about her grandmother cussing, "Don't think for a moment that I'm giving you permission to cuss. At least, try to act like a lady in public. Don't embarrass me."
"I won't, Mommy. I promise."
Bunny looked at her watch. "Come on, Bethany. We have to get the clothes out of the washer and put them in a dryer, if one's open."
"Can't I stay here with Mr. Harris?"
"No. You're making yourself a pest."
"It's okay with me, Bunny. I'll be here until you get back, then I'm going to my apartment for lunch and maybe a siesta."
She left, and I dove down to the bottom of the deep end again to force my misbehaving boner back into the crotch of my stretched out jock.
Bethany had to work hard to stay down. Her baby-fat buoyancy made her a living buoy. Her mother would never have to worry about her drowning.
"You're an excellent swimmer," I said when we resurfaced.
"Mommy taught me how when I was real little, ‘cause her big brother drowneded in Galveston when they was kids. I want to be a lifeguard and a scuba diver when I grow up."
I swam to waist-deep water, where I stood, grasped Bethany by her right upper arm with my left hand, and cupped her crotch with my left. I called to the big woman, "We haven't been introduced. I'm Frank."
"You're Felicity's Dad. I'm Frieda. My son, Freddie, is in Young Thespians with her," she said, pointing to a plump blond 9-year-old who looked like a miniature version of his mother.
"Catch!" I said, raising Bethany above my head and tossing her to Frieda, who caught the little black bundle of giggles by the right arm and crotch. We tossed her back and forth a couple of times, openly molesting her.
"Me!" Freddie yelled. "Do me!"
He was bigger and heavier than Bethany, and I fell backwards with him. My right hand was on his crotch, and I felt his stiff little 3-inch pecker twitch. I rubbed it while standing up, and threw him back to his mother.
"Again! Do it again," he giggled naughtily.
I was ready for him when she threw him back. I could have remained standing, but fell back under water, where I grasped his dick between my thumb and two fingers and gave it three quick strokes before standing and tossing him back.
"That's it," I gasped. "I'm done. I need to get into shape... exercise and lift weights or something."
"You can lift me," Freddie giggled girlishly.
"Me too!" Bethany exclaimed.
Bunny returned.
"I'm going to go eat lunch and take a nap," I said. "I'm exhausted."
"I hope we can play some more sometime, Mr. Harris," Freddie said.
"Me too!" Bethany squealed. "I hope we can play a lot more."
We had lived at the apartment for three years, and nothing like that had ever happened before. I thought about it, and wondered why. Then, I knew why. I usually lounged around the pool, drinking beer and watching Felicity and her friends play. Maybe sobriety wasn't such a bad idea.
Nellie was again on the phone when I walked in. Again, she abruptly said, "Don't worry about him. Bye. See you later." Again, she looked guilty.
"That was Catherine, from the office. She was worried about her monthly performance report."
"Oh?"
"She had a customer complaint that she was worried about."
"I told her not to worry, because the complainer was a cranky old woman... I mean man, who is always bitching about something."
I felt certain she was lying. She was volunteering too much information. She rarely talked about work. When she did, it was to disparage subordinates or her immediate supervisor, whom she deemed incompetent.
I boiled a half dozen eggs while eating two peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches. I made a large batch of tuna salad to last at least a few days. Felicity and friends arrived as I was putting the tuna salad into the refrigerator.
"Dad, are you going to the pool with us?"
"Not now, Babe. I need a nap. I wore myself out at the pool a while ago. Maybe later this evening, or tomorrow before I go to work."
I was asleep within minutes. I dreamed about Pauline riding my cock while Felicity, Peggy, Wendy, and Bethany took turns riding my beard. Then, I saw my daughter being gang banged on stage at the Palmetto Playhouse, and inviting audience members to join in.
I awoke to muffled giggling. I was on my back, and my erection tented my cutoffs.
"Pauline," Felicity whispered. "Go to the stairs. Watch for Mom."
Then to me, "Pull your cock out, Daddy."
She took at least five inches in her mouth. Someone had taught her the fine art of fellatio, and she learned well. I quickly ejaculated down my daughter's throat.
Peggy and Wendy cheered and clapped.
Felicity kissed me, giving back some of my cum. She was a fantastic kisser, much better than her mother ever was. Nellie and I hadn't kissed passionately in many years.
I got up, straightened up, and went downstairs to cook meatloaf.
The rest of the evening was uneventful, except for my daughter occasionally flashing her pussy behind her mother's back.
Coming in Chapter 5 - Felicity spends the morning showing Daddy just how slutty she can be...
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