Quinn, Male, 41

	- Narrator, project manager, father of Tera

	- 6'0, beige skin, 190lbs, wavy blonde-brown hair a few inches long

Tera, Female, 15

	- High School Freshman, daughter of Quinn

	- 5'7, pale-beige skin, 135lbs, shoulder-length bright copper-red hair

Yvette, Female, mid-30s

	- Bartender at Champions

	- 5'11, pale-beige skin, 165lbs, back-length black hair

Day 1.018

I knew there was no way I could have another 'perfect date' that night, possibly ever. Tera's red pubes, her thin slit, the arousal I felt from those glimpses. I didn't want those urges, didn't want to think about my daughter like that. I knew if I continued to spend close time with her, those thoughts would continue to fill me with guilt.

There was no place in the world for a man who found his daughter attractive, who took innocent nudity and was aroused. Maybe not wholly accurate. I'm certain I am not the first father to be attracted to his daughter, not the first to see arousing privates between teen legs. Surely, other fathers had jerked off to such things.

And it wasn't that I thought I'd take advantage of her or in any way try to do more than look... or sniff. But I didn't want those images in my head. The situation was confusing enough that sexual attraction for my daughter made it even worse. Even as I felt disgust for the way I'd masturbated to the brief glimpse I'd had of Tera's fiery crotch, I couldn't help refreshing the memories, just to make sure they stayed vivid.

If I wasn't going to spend the evening on a date with Tera, I also wasn't ready to return to the soup kitchen. I knew Becky could be mine anytime, and I expected I'd see her again. What troubled me, though, was that thoughts of my daughter brought about thoughts of Juliet. Something about her that night had turned me on. Her youth, her punk style, the knowledge that she may have masturbating in the bathroom. All of it meant I wasn't ready to go back, though I admitted to myself that, when I did see Becky again, I wasn't sure which one I would be interested in more, Becky or her daughter.

As much as I hated doing so, I slashed Curt's tires and felt guilty a while after Tera went to bed disappointed. Too many conflicting and confusing thoughts were swirling around my daughter and I had to avoid thoughts of her any way I could, even if it meant knowing I could have ended her night on a better note.

I opted instead for some bourbon at Champions. Part of me wanted to see Shelly again. I knew that tonight's Shelly had never experienced me cumming in her without a condom, had never been rightfully upset by how I'd acted. Still, I felt the need to see that fact first-hand, to know for certain that this night's Shelly, and all those in the future, didn't know Quinn the asshole.

I arrived at the bar later than I had the last time, and Shelly was already gone. Yvette let me know that the woman had been asking about me and told me again that Shelly might be interested in me.

Yvette slid my bourbon onto the bar, and I couldn't help noticing the way her breasts pushed out from her knit shirt, the unbuttoned V-neck leaving just a hint of her cleavage visible. She was tall, something I'd always liked in a woman, thick black hair pulled back in a tail trailing down the middle of her back. She wore glasses which made her look younger than the mid-30s I knew her to be. Sometimes she wore tight brown slacks that made her ass look round and plump over her mature, slightly rounded body. I wonder...

“Yvette,” I said before she walked off, “if I gave you a bad pickup line right now, would it work?”

She laughed. “I think you just did, and so far, no.”

“So what's a better one?”

She thought a moment. “I dunno, I've heard them all.”

“You're single, right? Gotta be a lot of opportunities for fun being a good-looking woman serving drinks?”

“Lot of opportunities for assholes with boundary issues, you mean, but I suppose...”

“So you pick and choose?”

She eyed me funny, “suppose you could say that. Pretty picky. What are you on about?”

I shook my head, smiled, “just thinking what it might be like to be you. I'd be boning every woman who batted her eyes at me if I were you.”

“You and every guy I've ever met. Well, except the gay ones, and they'd replace the women with men. Doesn't work that way for women.”

“Why not?”

She tilted her head, looked at me like I'd missed something painfully obvious. “Well... it just doesn't.” She playfully cupped her breasts, said, “I've got these things. If I give them out to anyone who wants to see them, they lose their powers.”

I laughed, “I dunno, maybe. They're doing something to me right now...” I acted like I'd been hypnotized, made like I was motorboating her.

“What's gotten into you tonight?”

“I dunno, just feeling good, I guess.”

“Three bourbons usually does it.” Another guest got her attention and I sat alone a moment. Yvette would be a tough one, she'd said as much. But I felt the thrill of a new challenge coming on, and found myself very turned on by the woman.

She came over from time to time that night, and I began what I came to call 'research.' It was the first time I'd really made plans that might stretch over multiple of my repeating nights. I started with the premise that a woman I wanted had a non-zero chance of having sex with me, and from there, it was a matter of figuring out how to make that a one-hundred percent chance using what I learned each night, putting it all together to make more and more progress until I'd finally charmed her enough to want more than conversation.

I asked Yvette about her dreams, found out about her favorite music, her hobbies. That first night, I learned she had a nine-year old son who lived with her ex, as well as a eternal love of all things Scottish. Despite only getting short bursts of time from her, I took it all in, not worrying about the odd looks and somewhat impatient reactions I got when I asked one question too many, or got too personal, like when I asked her if she liked anal.

I eyed the clock around 1 AM, the only person left in the bar besides Yvette. I made my way home just before closing time, and let the rest of the night drift away, planning on going back to visit Yvette the next day.

Day 1.019

“So if you could go anywhere, anywhere at all... where would I guess you'd go.” I looked into her eyes, let her stare just a little bit as her baby blues looked almost grey with the neons and florescents. I pretended to concentrate as if I was reading her mind. “I see... Hmm... Thistles...”

Yvette kept her poker face. I brought my fingers to my temples. “And... kilts...”

One of her eyebrows raised. I finished with, “Red hair...” An image of Tera's fiery pubes flashed but I forced it away. “Scotland. You would go to Scotland.”

Yvette broke into a big smile, laughed. “How'd you do that?”

“Magic.”

“Bullshit.” She laughed again and slipped to the other side of the bar.

I'd interrupted Yvette when I came in before she could tell me about Shelly, leading off with a statement about how much I looked forward to the new Thai place opening next door. I'd found out Thai was her favorite the night before. She looked excited and we talked about possibly meeting for lunch there. I knew that would never happen, but it meant she had some interest in me beyond work.

I peppered conversation the rest of the evening, learning more about her, even learned that she thought a guy wearing a mustache was sexy, and she admitted she had a thing for red hair. By the end of the night, I knew enough that I felt I had a decent shot at Yvette when I returned.

Day 1.020

“Scotland. You would go to Scotland.”

Her reaction was different this time. There was a much softer look on her face. She looked at me longer, paid more attention when I talked, even to the point of missing cues from customers needing drinks.

It was my fault, of course.

I'd shaved everything but a mustache from my face and instead of sitting around the house for a couple of hours waiting until I knew Shelly would be gone from the bar, I'd run to the store and bought hair dye, colored my light-brown hair a rich red, my mustache as well. Nothing like the coppery-orangey-red that my daughter had on her head and between her legs. But I thought it looked pretty good on me and hoped it was attractive to Yvette. The hair and the mustache had come from conversations the night before, and I knew they improved my chances with her.

I caught her staring at my hair several times. She finally asked me, “why the red, Quinn? Seems so unlike you.”

“Felt it was time for a change. I've been out of the dating scene for so long, guess I just wanted a fresh start with a different look, you know?”

She nodded, a small smile on her face. “So, you're finally dating again? Bout damn time.”

“I know, I know. Dating, or something less formal. I haven't decided.”

“Friends with benefits you mean?”

“If it was with someone I considered a friend.”

Yvette hesitated. I knew there was a question on her tongue that could cross a line she wasn't sure she wanted to cross. I ran my hands through my hair, let out a sigh I hoped looked more genuine than it felt. The question came from her mouth. “And do you consider me a friend, then?”

I smiled. Hooked. “I sure hope so.”

She smiled, and all she said was, “hmm...”

- - -

It was near closing time before I got much attention from her. I was getting ready to chalk up my night to a learning experience and try again tomorrow. “Listen, Quinn. I'm gonna be outta here in an hour or so, want to grab a bite to eat with me? There's an all-night grill open a few doors up. Wouldn't mind the company.”

I smiled. “Hollander Grill. Yeah, I know the place. Sure, I'd love to.”

“Great... well... just hang out here when I close up, just need to finish a bit of restocking and washing. Won't take too long.” She flashed me a smile that said I'd just crossed over from customer to something off-the-clock.

While I waited for Yvette to complete her chores, I pondered whether I was willing to lie to seduce women. Sure, I thought, everyone lies to get laid. But this felt different. I knew things about Yvette that I'd learned the night before, things she liked to do. She'd told me she loved to snow ski. I'd always hated the snow, had no interest in ever going. Would I be ok with lying and telling her I loved to snow ski if it meant a better chance of having sex with her? Would I tell someone I was dying and just wanted to have sex one more time? How far would I go?

I didn't come to a conclusion, but I recognized that I would face that dilemma moving forward, especially as I researched other, harder-to-seduce potential mates. Lying to pick up women had never been something I felt comfortable doing, but I admitted to myself that I'd done it before, and might be very willing to do it again. I wasn't sure on which side of my blurry ethical lines that fell.

- - -

I caught her looking at me again as we ate bacon and ham wraps at Hollander. Yvette was a bit more nervous than I expected. She let me do a lot of the talking, which I suppose was a habit most bartenders learned at some point.

The conversation was easy, though, and she began asking some personal questions. Had I really dated no one in two years? That's right. Was I over my ex? Completely. What's wrong with me that no one would date me? That last one took a bit to explain, but after going through my divorce and the desire to protect myself and my daughter, I told her that I'd just fallen out of practice.

After I finished telling her my answer, I paused, said, “so... is this a date?”

Yvette looked away, shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Bout time.”

She laughed easily, motioned the server to bring the check. “It's on me. Thanks for the company, I've enjoyed it.”

I thought that signaled the end of our time together, and I knew I'd be back again the next day with a slightly different strategy.

As we walked out, she paused, tilted her head, said, “you know, kinda nice out tonight. I might go up to the lake. Want to join me?”

The lake. I was stuck on a day where I'd never get to take my daughter there on Saturday. I pushed Tera from my thoughts. “Love to.”

“Great. I know you usually stick to bourbon, but I've got a bottle of wine in my car, maybe we can share it and sit out by the water.”

“Sure, I like the sound of that.” I thought she started to take my hand, but she stopped with just a small movement.

She smiled again. “Ok. I'll drive, my car's back by the bar.”

- - -

It took half a bottle of wine and a half-hour on our backs on a blanket beside the water before Yvette kissed me. She didn't ask, didn't make any sign that she was going to, she just rolled in my direction, put her arm over me, and put her lips on mine.

I'd known it was coming from the first moment we laid down. She'd been talking openly about being lonely, that, despite all the opportunities she had from guys at the bar, she never dated her customers, and, “besides, most of them are kinda creepy.”

When I asked about why she'd gone out to get food and spend time at the lake with me on what we were calling a 'date' she just shrugged, smiled, didn't reply. She didn't really need to. She was attracted to me, probably horny, and I'd pushed enough of the right buttons that night to make her very interested in me. And it's not like I was a stranger. Yvette and I had been friendly for years, though I'd never done more than jokingly flirt with her.

Her lips were on mine by the time I could react. I met her intensity. Her passion felt raw, needful. She kissed me like she thought she might never kiss again. Her hands ran over my shirt, had it over my head and off in moments. She kissed down my stomach, unbuttoned my slacks and slid them off, my boxers soon following.

Yvette stared at my cock as it throbbed, erect. One hand took hold, started to run up and down my shaft. She sank to her knees, leaned down, and sucked my dick with urgency.

She was going too fast, to be honest. Too frantic, too much suction, not enough saliva. I wasn't sure if she just wasn't that great at it or if she'd just been nervous and overly-eager. Maybe it had been a long time since she'd had a cock in her mouth.

Whatever it was, I soon pushed her off and rolled her onto her back, pulling her shirt up, unsnapping her bra. Large tits slid out, both nipples pierced with steel bars, a chain connecting them. I smiled when I saw it, and she whispered, “you like?”

I teased the chain, drawing gasps as I gave it small jerks, then stronger ones. I tried to walk a fine line between pleasure and pain, watched her nipple strain with each movement. I caressed her mounds then, sucked on them, flicking the bar with my tongue. Yvette moaned into the night, her hands running over the back of my head.

I slid her pants down, then her panties. Her naked genitals were so close to my face as I kissed my way down her stomach, teasing the edge of her Mons with my tongue.

Her pubic hairs were trimmed, just a little triangle rested over her large clit, the hard nub showing clearly under her fleshy hood. I inhaled her scents. She'd been working all night, hadn't showered. Perhaps she'd had a moment to wash up, but she smelled like a woman who had sweated and been aroused for hours, the pheromones mixing heavily with the arousing odor of her trimmed vulva.

I moved down further, cocked one of her legs over my back, pressed my tongue against her labia. Yvette moaned as I licked her there, her fleshy lips shaped like a tulip, one slightly tucked in, the other spread wide. She'd trimmed the hair further down, just a hint of stubble as I lapped her growing slickness.

Her hips rocked side-to-side as I probed her vagina with my tongue. She was wet inside, her juices sweet and dry like wine, tart, rich and meaty. I mewled as I licked her, and the woman's body became tense, her moans louder.

All at once she shuddered and jerked, my tongue circling her clit. I bored down, rapidly flicked the underside of her nub then circled again, repeated the movements, repeated again, and Yvette cried out as she rushed into orgasm. “wwwuuuhhhooohhh... wwwuuhhhooohhh... ooohwwww... ooohmmmmm... mmmm... mmmm...”

I licked up the drooling juices which her vagina squeezed out, the flavor richer than before, more pungent. Yvette was pulling my hair, urging her to continue my attention to her sensitive genitals. I ran my tongue down, tickled her anus. When she didn't push me away, I did it again, and again, her body rocking steadily. I pushed my tongue into her ass, tasted the sweaty, slightly bittersweet flavors, and Yvette was growing more and more frantic.

She started to talk dirty to me. “Eat my ass... god... eat my ass... mmmm... mmmm...” I pushed her legs up in the air, rolling her hips toward her stomach. Her anus was easier to reach. I lapped the rough flesh there, my lips kissing and gently sucking as my tongue slid deeper inside her butt. Yvette's fingers were dancing across her clit, and in moments, she came again, her butthole clenching around my tongue, her moans rising and falling as she ran out of breath and lay panting, shaking.

I pulled up and away, still tasting her ass in my mouth. I was highly aroused, my cock in need of attention.

Fuck! I'd forgotten to get condoms when I'd picked up hair coloring. “Uh... shit...” I said, my penis hovering inches from her vagina.

“What...?” Yvette said, still out of breath.

“Don't have a condom.”

“Ah...” I could see debate raging on her face. “I'll let you put it in my ass if you want.”

I smiled, “you sure?”

“Yeah, you can cum in me that way...”

“Fuck yes...”

I spit on my cock and pushed Yvette's knees down closer to her chest. Her asshole was slimy from my rimming. I pushed the head of my penis against her tight, rubbery opening, and moved my hips forward.

Yvette groaned as the tip slid in. I held still, let her get used to the feeling. The woman's butthole was tight, barely opening to take me inside. When she'd taken a breath, I pushed deeper, sinking a couple of inches into Yvette's bowels. She let out a long, somewhat uncomfortable moan. I hesitated, waited again.

She started to move under me, rocking, her body telling me to keep going. I pushed a third time, sinking the rest of my penis inside her rectum, her anus spread wide around the base of my shaft. Her hole squeezed me tight, her insides hot and tender.

I put her feet over my shoulders, my hands beside her waist, and I began to fuck Yvette's asshole slowly. She grunted with each downstroke, taking the sodomy with only a slight look of discomfort on her face. Her hole dilated slightly and I fucked her faster, harder. She grunted louder, hands grasping at my chest.

I tensed as her asshole became slippery, sloppy. It loosened a bit, accepted the penetration easier. Grunts became moans as Yvette started to get into it. As I felt myself starting to draw up, release building in my groin, her fingers were again on her clit, and seconds from my orgasm, she beat me to it and shuddered into one of her own.

As she cried out, her anus spasmed around me, pushed and pulled as I fucked it. Semen boiled out of the end of my cock and splashed inside her bowels. Again and again, I grunted as I pumped cum deep into Yvette's rectum, her anus a tight, sloppy ring around my throbbing cock.

I felt like I was on fire, out of breath, my dick leaking semen into her backdoor. Yvette's hand never slowed, and she continued to play with herself even as I rested over top of her. She started muttering, “don't move... don't move... don't move... wwwwuuooh... wwwuuuhhoohh... wwwwwwwoouuuuhhhhh..... ooohhhwwwwaaa...” She came again, her body shaking hard, the woman's face an intense combination of arousal and discomfort.

Her powerful orgasm forced my cock out of her ass, and I heard a wet, sputtering sound. She farted out my cum as her climax rocked her body. I fell back on my knees as she panted heavily. Yvette's eyes were closed a moment, her hand hovering over her sloppy pussy.

She finally opened her eyes, looked at me, and laughed. “Sorry about that... tried to hold it in... how bad is it down there?” She had a humor about it that I loved.

I looked down to where a pool of my cum sat an inch or two from her raw, swollen anus, dots of brown mixed with creamy white. More drooled out of her tight hole. I grinned. “Not too bad. I've seen far worse.”

She gave me an amused grin, “thanks... I think.”

I rolled next to her and kissed her for a while. We didn't say anything for a long time. I pulled the extra blanket she'd brought over us and filled our cups with wine. We lay cuddling a while, relaxed.

She whispered to me finally, “we should do this again sometime.”

“I'll be sure to bring the condoms.”

She laughed and I laid back, her head soon on my chest. She snored lightly before I thought to wonder what might happen if I wasn't home at 7am. I was about to find out.