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(sequel to In Camera)
I’m a proud father and, like the rest of the guys I play golf with, I brag about how well my daughter’s doing. “Oh yes, she got into Harvard you know… She’s reading economics… Her mother and I are so proud, although we sometimes wish she were closer to home… They grow up so fast, don’t they?” You know the sort of thing.
What I’m really proud of — what I can’t tell the golf guys — is that my little girl is likely to be the first prostitute in history to make the Fortune Five Hundred. Yes, I’m a sick puppy, but I am proud that Helen’s earning up to a thousand dollars a night as an escort. Proud because, while every father thinks his daughter’s beautiful, I know that a lot of wealthy men agree with me. Proud too because every father wants his children to be talented and Helen most definitely has a talent: She’s the best sex I’ve ever had.
My name is Parry and I fuck my daughter.
A year ago, I was just another Dad with a kid at college and a wife at home. Things changed when Meg, my darling wife, started to lose interest in sex. That was when I started to rely more and more on Internet porn to get my kicks. I discovered the wonderful world of one-to-one web cam girls and was a happy masturbator for months until I strayed into one chat room and found my little girl flashing her crotch at me.
That was the day my world changed. It could have gone one of two ways. In the end, it went in the direction of perversity, depravity and incest. I became Helen’s most regular regular without ever identifying myself. I paid her thousands of dollars to perform for me while I jerked off, thinking she’d never know.
On a visit home, she did find out because there were pics of her on my PC. Again, it could have gone either way. It went the way I’d fantasized about so many times — Helen decided to seduce me. It wasn’t exactly a seduction though. It’s probably more accurate to say she blackmailed me into having sex with her. After that, it was easy to just carry on. It all got so intense that when she told me she’d started being an escort, I didn’t even care that my daughter was whoring. Her word, not mine. Helen likes the coarse words.
Anyway, that was all last year. Now, I’m on my way to Boston to pick up Helen and all her stuff. It’s a long drive but my darling daughter thought of that, so I have several CD compilations she made for me — to pass the time.
“Hi Daddy. This is DJ Dirty Daughter cummin’ at ya. And let me tell ya I’m lookin’ forward to cummin’ with ya in just a few hundred miles. So just to get you moving along that long lonely highway to Helen’s heavenly haven, let’s start with a classic driving song.”
“My Pappy said ‘Son, you’re gonna drive me to drinkin’
If you don’t stop drivin’ that hot rod Lincoln.
It was good driving music but I recalled that Helen had first heard Commander Cody in a film called the Invisible Circus in which a college girl ends up seducing an older man. Last time it’d been played in this car, Helen was beside me with her shorts pushed down, rubbing herself in an attempt to make me crash the car. When the song finished, I was hard with the recollection of that other journey and the taste of Helen’s secretions on her fingers.
“Remember that one Daddy? I sure do. I think about your hot rod whenever I hear it.
Here’s a track that will always be our song.”
Papa’s got a brand new bag. That had been my nickname in Helen’s chat room. Yes, it’s definitely our song.
The tracks passed, the miles passed and the innuendo got less and less subtle. When Hendrix and Dylan finished F.Y.I.T.A. all I could hear on the CD was a loud buzzing. It took a few seconds before I made the connection. The buzzing grew fainter and Helen’s husky, bedroom voice whispered. “Recognise that sound, Daddy? You should do. You bought it for me. Better put the pedal to the metal if you’re gonna get here before the batteries run out.” The buzzing got louder again and there was a theatrical moan in the background, then the next track cut in.
“Driving all night, my hands wet on the wheel.
Something inside of me, drives my heel.
And the miles rolled under my wheels as the music rolled out of the speakers, seasoned with increasingly provocative and explicit links from Helen. I had a boner three miles from home that was still testing Mr Levi Strauss’ excellent stitching to the limit when I turned off the highway for the motel where I was to spend the first night.
It was a two day journey each way to Boston and I’d only been talked into making the trip because the alternative was for Helen to drive a U-haul trailer, which she’d never done and claimed to be scared to try. At least, that’s how the story went at home. The unmentioned up side to fetching Helen was the two nights we’d get to spend in motels, fucking each other’s brains out. Which, by a strange coincidence, was exactly what I was daydreaming about in the shower in my motel room when the phone rang.
“Hi Daddy, what took you pendik escort so long?” She’d had to ring twice to get an answer.
“I was in the shower, thinking about you.”
“Oh! Is it hard?”
“What do you think?”
“I think jerking off in the shower is what sad old men do and you should save it for tomorrow night. Especially as I’ve got a treat for you.”
There was a giggle in the background.
“Who’s giggling? What treat?”
B was Helen’s roomie but also one of her lovers. Helen had told B about our relationship, much to my dismay, but the world hadn’t ended so I’d come to assume B was cool about it.
“And the treat?”
“I’ve just told you, Daddy!” There was more giggling.
“Oh… You mean…?” It dawned on me what Helen was getting at.
“Yes Daddy. Tomorrow night you’re gonna get to see all the girl on girl action you want and you’ll get to fuck us both. Now isn’t that a good reason to save it for tomorrow?”
“Sweetheart, are you sure about this?” B may have heard about Helen and I but confirming it by demonstration was a different matter.
“Of course I’m sure. Silly Daddy. I really really want to share someone I love with someone I love.” Helen sounded sincere and, for a moment, quite sentimental.
“Well, if you put it like that, how can I refuse?”
“You can’t refuse. You never can with me. Besides, you’ll adore Honey B: she’s gorgeous and very slutty.”
“Like me.” Helen agreed. “But she’s not a whore.”
“Are you whoring tonight?” A year of hearing about it had desensitised me to the coarse way Helen described her work.
“Not tonight. We’re having a girl’s night in. Painting nails, shaving each others cunts…” Helen had taken to using the C word lately. It was all part of the “How degenerate can we get?” ethos.
“And I’m supposed to lie here and not jerk off, knowing that that’s going on?”
“That’s too cruel.”
Helen laughed. “I know it is, Daddy. Good night.” She blew me a kiss and hung up.
I tested my erection by hanging my wet bath towel on it. It just twitched. I think if I’d struck it with a hammer it’d have vibrated like an iron bar. How was I supposed to sleep knowing what was going on and what was waiting for me tomorrow night? I sought help from my old pal Jack Daniels.
Thank you, Jack.
* * * * *
“Helen the Happy Hooker!” B pounced on her as soon as the phone was cradled. She’d learned so much from her roommate: none of it ever likely to help her build a career, but all of it so much fun. She pinned Helen to the bed and nuzzled her bare breasts. Helen’s nipples could cut glass. “You’re so cruel to him.”
“Because tomorrow he’s gonna have six holes to fill and I want him up to the job.” Helen stroked B’s hair as she looked down, watching her nipple getting caught between B’s pearly teeth. The bite hurt a little — in a good way.
“What are we really going to do tonight? We shaved already.” B moved over to nibble Helen’s other nipple.
“Let’s go and find a party.”
“Goodie! Frat boys!” B liked frat house parties.
Helen sometimes wondered if she’d created a monster. Most of her sins weren’t common knowledge on campus but after she’d introduced B to the joys of public exposure, B had really embraced it as a lifestyle choice. She’d stopped wearing pants unless she absolutely had to and, with the money she was saving on lingerie, invested in short skirts. Upskirt views of B were so commonplace on campus that she’d got the nickname Bare-back B. And she loved it.
Right now they were on the porch of their favourite frat house, B in her shortest dress and Helen in something a little less obvious, if you ignored her still pokey nipples.
“Guys!” Shouted the boy who answered the door. “Guys!”
Someone heard him holler and turned the music down a fraction. Many eyes turned to the door.
“Guys.” He said a third time. “There are ladies present. A little respect if you please.”
Helen and B stood just inside the door as a chorus of wolf whistles rose to a crescendo. It was a tradition. Some of the guys bowed too. On a whim, B curtsied back at them, lifting her skirt just enough to flash them all. There was a cheer from almost everyone. The few other girls who’d arrived ignored it.
Drinks were proffered and mingling started in earnest.
“Eric. Or should I call you Mr President?” Helen asked the new president of Phi Kappa Delta. He’d been elected last week when the graduating class left.
“Technically, only fraternity members and pledges use the title but perhaps later you can be my Monica Lewinsky?”
“You know the rule, ‘Mr President’. You’re spoken for.” Helen and B had only one rule: not to fuck anyone who was actively involved with another student. They were unpopular enough with the campus’ female population without getting reputations for stealing boyfriends.
“Can’t blame a boy for trying.”
“I’d never blame you for trying. Trying is maltepe escort flattering.” Helen patted his cheek affectionately. She’d had some good nights with Eric last year and he was the only guy on campus she’d trusted enough to tell about the escort work.
“Well, if you’re not here to fuck me farewell, what can I do for you?” Eric was watching B on the other side of the room, playing pool.
“How many of your pledges are still virgins?” Helen asked. She’d turned to watch B too. That really was a very short skirt.
“You know, I don’t know. Let’s find out.” Eric caught the eye of the designated DJ and made slashing movements with his hand to get the music turned down. Then in a stentorian voice he boomed “Phi Kappa Delta pledges! Front and centre!”
There was a flurry of activity and eight young men stood at attention in a line in the middle of the room.
“Gentlemen!” Eric addressed the room, not the pledges. “These lowly worms have had one year now to prove their worthiness. Have any of them been found wanting?”
“No Sir!” A chorus of male voices responded.
“Then, gentlemen, shall we welcome them back next year as brothers of Phi Kappa Delta?”
“Yes Sir!” The chorus responded.
“Pledges, you have endured many trials this year. I know it has often been difficult, humiliating, even painful, but you are the chosen few. You can be justly proud of what you have achieved. There is only one more question I have for you. Who among you is still a virgin?”
The Pledges looked uncomfortable. To fail to answer a direct question was forbidden. Two of the eight stepped forward, blushing.
“Mr President.” Helen spoke up. “It would be a stain on the reputation of this fraternity to count these boys among your number.” Helen noticed that the two geeky boys who’d stepped forward were looking crest-fallen.
“I concur. But what may be done?” Eric knew damned well what Helen wanted to do. He’d known as soon as she asked about virgins.
“There are a few hours yet before they take the oath of allegiance. Give me the boys, Mr President, and I shall give you the men!” Helen glanced across at B and winked.
“Very well. You two worms, go with these ladies. Obey them. The rest of you are dismissed.” Eric waved away the six remaining pledges as Helen and B led the nervous and blushing geeks to the stairs. “And remember.” Eric called out. “What you do, you do for the honour of Phi Kappa Delta. Do not disgrace your brothers.” He was grinning. He’d bet good money that there were pledges in this room that were already regretting not stepping forward.
* * * * *
“Pants off, boys.” B chirped as soon as they were safely in one of the bedrooms. She undid the side of her skirt and flipped it off as she spoke, leaving her bare from the waist down.
The young men hesitated, understandably shy in front of each other and intimidated by B’s overdose of confidence. Helen stood behind them. They couldn’t see her peeling her dress over her head.
Naked she stepped between the boys, brushing against them. “Eric told you to obey us. Shall I tell him you fell at the first fence?”
Silently, with much fumbling, the two boys dropped their trousers.
“Shorts too.” Helen ordered. The shorts descended. The chubbier of the two guys had an erection already. It wasn’t spectacular but Helen had seen smaller ones. The other guy was cupping his crotch so she couldn’t see what he had to hide.
B knelt to help them step out of their clothes. Finding a cock at eye level she glanced up with a reassuring smile for the boy. “Nice.” She whispered. The cock twitched in her peripheral vision. When she’d tossed both pairs of trousers onto a chair, she stood up again and went to sit on the bed. The shy, skinny one still cupped his crotch.
“Hands down, Mister.” Helen snapped at him. She knew pledges were used to obeying orders barked at them. Instantly the hands fell to his sides. His cock was bigger than the first boy’s and it was only semi-erect. Helen seized hold of it, feeling it swell in her hand as she moved her fingers back and forth. She looked him in the eye and smiled.
“What’s your name?”
“David, Miss. David Barrio.” He was quite hard now.
“David, you have nothing to be shy about.” She gave his cock a last squeeze then let go, moving to the other boy. “And your name?”
“John Miss.” He jerked as he felt her fingers curl around his stiffy.
“There’s no need to call me Miss. I’m Helen and she’s B. You know you have a small penis, don’t you John?”
“Yes M-Helen.” It took a lot to admit that.
“Well that’s the bad news over with. The good news is that, while size does matter, it doesn’t matter as much as guys think. Do you like my tits? You keep looking at them.”
“Yes Helen.” John licked his lips nervously.
“Then why haven’t you touched them?” Helen asked. John looked genuinely shocked. “C’mon John. A naked girl is holding your cock. Do you need a written invitation?”
John didn’t. He reached for kartal escort her tits with both hands.
“Mmm. I like having my nipples played with. B usually nibbles them. Try that.” Helen instructed. John bent to comply. He was inept, probably self-conscious, but at least he was trying to arouse her — which was redundant. Helen was rarely not aroused. She glanced over to confirm that B was getting along equally well with David.
“Ok boys. Stop a minute. Anatomy 101. B, would you lie down please? I want to give these guys the guided tour.” Helen watched B Sit on the edge of the bed, lie back, lift her legs straight up then spread them until she was nearly doing the splits. The boys couldn’t take their eyes off her pussy. “Thanks B.” Helen knelt down.
“My pleasure.” B loved to show off.
“Boys, this is a pussy. On a nice girl, it’d be called a vagina but we’re the other sort so it’s a pussy, snatch, twat or cunt. You’ll recognise it, I’m sure from pictures and videos.
Does either of you know where the clitoris is?” Helen glanced at them. David nodded.
“Ok David, show me.”
Nervously David reached down and pointed to B’s clitoral hood. “There.”
“Don’t just point, touch it. Put your finger on the clitoris.” Helen waited while David touched his first pussy. She noticed his erection twitch as he did so.
“Good. If a girl is already aroused, caressing around her clit is good foreplay but if she’s not yet aroused, dry fingers on dry skin can chafe so the best foreplay, bar none, is with your tongue. Watch carefully.”
Helen started to lick B’s labia. Circling her clit then working her way down between her plump lips to her vulva. It didn’t take long for B to start responding. Her labia became engorged and her juices started to glisten in the recesses of her hole. The boys watched in rapt attention. They were holding their own cocks now and stroking them. Helen stopped suddenly.
“David, your turn. Make B come.” Helen stood to make room for the boy and watched as he tentatively got his first taste of pussy. “John. Come over here and try on me.” Helen led the chubby boy to the other bed and lay back, spreading her legs for him.
“Slower.” She said, as John, showing more eagerness than nerves, stuck his tongue in her and started lapping like a thirsty dog. “That’s better… Good. Remember to share your attention between my clit and my vulva. Ooh. That was really good. Do it again.” She guided and encouraged him until she was close to coming. “Now, without stopping, put your finger inside me. Ooh yesss!” Helen climaxed, gripping John’s hair to hold his mouth against her until she’d finished.
“Did I do it right?” John asked when she gently pushed him away.
“Yes John. You did just fine. Did you feel me squeezing your finger when I came?”
“That’s the bit girl’s always forget to fake. If a girl has an orgasm and her pussy doesn’t pulse like that around your cock, she’s faking it.” She pulled him to her and kissed him, probing his mouth with her tongue, savouring her own juices. “And that’s because I wasn’t faking. Would you like to fuck me now?”
“What position would you like?”
“Me on top? You on top? On my knees from behind? What position turns you on most when you’re looking at porn?”
“Err… you on top?”
“Good choice. Lie down then.” Helen straddled him and reached under to guide his cock into her. “John, it’s ok if you don’t last long the first time. I’ve already had an orgasm. That’s why it’s always a good idea to lick your girl first. If she’s had the first orgasm, she’ll forgive you for anything.” Helen sank onto his cock. ” Now reach up and fondle my tits. Think of my nipples as speed controls: The harder you play with them, the faster I’ll fuck you. Ok?”
“Ok.” John reached up and caressed her tits.
“Now just relax and enjoy the ride.” Helen started to gyrate her hips, rising and falling gently as she worked his cock. She glanced over to B who was on all fours with David stroking in and out of her. She called across the room. “David, use the ball of your thumb to massage B’s ass. She loves it.”
Helen was glad she’d reassured john about coming quickly because he did, barely seconds after she increased the pace.
“It’s ok baby.” She said softly, kissing him to silence his mumbled apologies. “Welcome to manhood. Good isn’t it?”
“Great.” John showed initiative for the first time this evening, reaching behind Helen’s head to pull her down for another kiss. The movement dislodged his softening cock but he didn’t mind.
“Want another go?”
“Ok. You just watch the live porn over there and I’ll see if I can wake up Wee Willy Winkie again.” Helen moved down and started to suck on his limp cock. John watched her for a moment then took her advice and watched his buddy fucking B. The show didn’t last long. David grunted and stopped thrusting almost at once. It did the trick though. John’s cock hardened in Helen’s mouth. He thought she’d stop sucking him then, but she carried on, kneeling there on the bed with her ass in the air and her tongue swirling around the head of his cock.
“Wanna see something really sexy?” B asked David. They’d come over to watch John getting blown.
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