Norma Egan - Daddy_s bad girl

Judy's convulsing womb gulped her father's sizzling seed. She was not her own master any more, and even as her climax passed, she kept her legs open while Guy pumped her full to overflowing. Finally he pulled out, grinning in triumph.

"Beautiful, honey, just beautiful!" he chuckled. "To think I got the best fuck of my life from my own kid! We're gonna have some mighty fine times together, you an' me!"

Judy did not reply. When he had dressed and gone, she lay on her bed arid wept, hating herself. There was only one thing to do now – to get away from this place as fast as possible.

After a restless night, Judy went down to breakfast with two powerful wishes, first, that she would not meet her father, and second, that the snowplows would have arrived so she could leave. She got her first wish. To her enormous relief, Guy had already eaten and had gone off to his work. But there was still no news of the snowplows. Walter Peabody, the shy, bespectacled scientist, told her that help was not expected for a few more days at least.

Judy decided to make the best of the situation that is, to keep busy and to avoid her father until it was possible for her to leave the lodge. She could not escape Guy entirely, but she could make sure that she was always in the company of other people, where he wouldn't dare make advances to her. Accordingly, she spent the day in the main room of the lodge, where all the other guests were gathered in a vain attempt to amuse themselves and pass the time.

Judy introduced herself around and met the guests. The two swinger couples, the Haymes' and the Carisons, were present off and on during the day. Judy was certain that their absences were for the purpose of group sex. She almost envied them the distraction. Besides these two young couples, there were Walter Peabody; a buxom middle-aged widow named Clen Jamison, rich and reeking of expensive cologne; Harry Giacomo, a corpulent and jaded-looking business tycoon in his 50's; and a stunningly pretty young actress, Chrissy Catlin, who appeared to he Giacomo's mistress and traveling companion. Judy found all these people pleasant enough, although she secretly did not approve of the swinging couples' morals or of Harry Giacomo traveling openly with a woman who was not his wife.

"I can't complain," Giacomo remarked about their being snowed in. "I didn't come here to ski anyhow." He gave a rumbling laugh. "Imagine me on a pair of skis! Maw, I came to relax. Chrissy here, she's disappointed though, ain't you, baby?"

"Oh, yes," pouted the beautiful Chrissy, pushing a thick strand of auburn hair from her eyes. "I just love to ski! Do you, Miss Prince?"

"I've done a little skiing," Judy answered, "but I came here to work. I'd hoped to make a little money over Christmas vacation. But now, with so few guests, I'm not needed."

"Yeah," said Giacomo, "I guess it's a drag for everybody. But that's the way it goes. No sense sitting around stewing about it. I think we oughta set up a little party tonight. At my expense, of course. What do ya say to that, Mrs. Jamison?"

Clen Jamison, snuggled in her mink coat and sipping a martini, smiled decorously and replied in cultured tones, "Why, that would be delightful, Mr. Giacomo, simply delightful! It would be an immense relief from this tedium."

"Did she come to ski?" Judy whispered to Chrissy. It seemed impossible that this plump, overdressed woman had ever even ventured outdoors except to get into her limousine.

"No," Chrissy whispered back, with a note of contempt, "she came to bag a man. She goes everywhere looking for a husband, makes a spectacle of herself. Right now I think she's got her eye on Harry and maybe your father."

"My father?" gasped Judy.

"Well, he could do worse," Chrissy replied. "She's filthy rich. And she don't look too bad for an old broad."

That was true. Clen Jamison, while admittedly a little overweight, had good legs and large well-shaped breasts. Her features were pretty, even if her manner was a turn-off.

"What are you girls whispering about?" she inquired, dimpling a little. "Let me in on it."

Judy blushed, but Chrissy, a practiced actress, replied sweetly, "We were talking about what to wear to the party."

"Oh, yes!" cooed Clen. "How thrilling!"

"It ain't a bad idea at all," agreed Giacomo. "What do you young folks think?"

This was addressed to the Haymes' and Carisons, who had just strolled into the main room of the lodge. "What did you have in mind, Mr. Giacomo?" asked Herbie Haymes.

"I'd like to throw a little party for you all," Giacomo explained, gesturing with a fat cigar. "A swell dinner, lots a drinks, a little dancing, maybe – whatever develops."

The two young couples glanced significantly at each other over the words "whatever develops", and Herbie replied enthusiastically, "Hey, that'd be great! It's real nice of you, sir."

"Call me Harry," said Giacomo jovially. "Well, I guess we got everybody's agreement except Prince's. Where is your dad, honey?"

Judy blushed. "I expect he's busy somewhere, Mr. Giacomo – he always is. But I'm sure he'll go along with your plans."

Guy did, indeed, go along. At dinner, when Giacomo told of his idea for a party to include all the guests, as well as Guy and Judy, Guy said it was a wonderful idea, and he agreed to have the chef cook whatever Giacomo wanted.

Thus Judy found herself as one of the guests at Harry Giacomo's lavish late-evening party. As Giacomo had arranged it there were plenty of drinks and some dancing, then a midnight supper of steak and lobster, followed by more drinking and dancing. Not very original, but a great deal of fun, Judy thought. She purposely drank a lot, in order to dull her guilt and worry, and she managed to avoid her father most of the evening. By one in the morning she was feeling almost gay as she sat and talked to the shy Walter Peabody, who had been her dancing partner mast of the evening.

Walter wrinkled his nose. "Do you smell that?" he asked.

"Smell what?" said Judy. There was something strange in the air.

"It's pot," sighed Walter. "You can't escape it nowadays. I wonder who's smoking it?"

They looked around and finally identified Chrissy Catlin as the culprit. She was generously passing around lids, and was soon joined by Herbie and Dora Haymes and by Ken and Barbara Carison. Meanwhile, Judy noticed an taking some kind of pill with her drink.

"A lot of people are going to get pretty bombed," laughed Judy.

"'Bombed'?" said Walter. "Oh, yes, I see. I prefer beer myself. I suppose I'm old-fashioned."

"That's all right, Walter," said Judy, patting him on the shoulder, "so am I. You and I can sit here in the corner and be the last outposts of the Victorian Era."

Walter smiled timidly and sipped his beer. He looked around the room, and suddenly his eyes widened behind his thick horn-rimmed glasses. "Oh, my goodness!" he piped. "Look at that!"

Judy followed his gaze, and her eyes staring, too. Dora Haymes was sitting on Ken Carison's lap, and he had his hand up her dress. There was no mistaking what he was up to – his fist making a lump just below her pussy area – or that she was enjoying it. In fact she was leering at him.

"Gracious!" Walter whispered to Judy. "And they're not even married to each other, are they?"

Judy was tempted to laugh. If anyone in the world was more puritanical than herself, it was Walter. But she didn't want to embarrass him. "No," she whispered, "they're not. But their spouses don't seem to mind."

As a matter of fact, Herbie Haymes was just then kissing Barbara Carison. Walter blushed furiously when he noticed, and Judy felt embarrassed herself. But everyone else seemed to consider it a great spectator sport to watch this exchange of partners. Harry and Guy were grinning, and Chrissy and Clen were licking their lips in apparent envy. Judy sensed trouble.