Ron Taylor - Do me, Daddy!

She was starting it again. Somehow the cute little slut had figured out that I must be a bit more than a stepdaughter to Roy. I didn't think she'd make any trouble, but I didn't want to discuss it either.

And then she had to go. It was almost three. How long had we been screwing anyway? No more than an hour, ninety minutes at tops. The way my cunt felt, it seemed more like two or three days. I was walking bowlegged and so was my red-headed darling Kendall Purvis. No finer way to celebrate living in a new house and a new town, though!

I kissed her good-bye at the front door. Roy was in the doorway to his study, watching us, and I stole a peek at him. His face got red as hell when he saw the way I kissed her, so I made it a good, long kiss for his benefit. Kendy saw him, too, and she took special care to rub her tits against mine. We'd both left off our bras after sexing, and I could feel her nipples strong and stiff and big in the front of her jumpsuit, and I'm sure she could feel mine, too, poking through the T-shirt I'd slipped on.

"See you tomorrow, maybe?" Kendy said. "Why don't you come over? Mom's gonna be away, at that dumb day-care center, and I hate to be alone."

"Bet your ass," I said huskily.

"He's still watching," she whispered into my ear, "and he looks jealous! Jennifer Wexford, if you don't want him, I think I'm going to take him!" Her head pulled away and she started to go. "Oh," she said as an afterthought, "you'll have to touch yourself up every couple of days. Wouldn't want to leave stubble bums on a friend's cheeks, would you?"

"Come in here," Roy said sharply as I closed the door behind Kendy, and I meekly obeyed, creamed out for the time being. Sometime after dinner, when my tummy was full and my body at ease, I'd certainly find myself eyeing Roy and wondering how I could conspire to get his dick up my cunt. But right now? I could care less.

"Sit down," he said, pointing to the chair at his desk. I slouched while he leaned up against the bookshelves. His arms were folded on his stomach and he regarded me the way a housemaid might look at ten cents worth of spilled beer on the carpet.

"So. I couldn't help hearing, you know, in spite of the screeching music you were playing for cover-up noise. For God's sake, Jenni, don't be so blatant about it when your mother's at home. She thinks you're the same sweet, innocent baby she brought home from the hospital." He smote his fist on the bookcase. "Good Christ! I don't understand the world any more! When I was your age, girls were quiet and shy and – they were girls. And today, what do we find? You and your skinny-assed red-headed lesbian friend, both of you pushing fifteen, both of you with no more decency or morals than a whore! No! I'll take that back! The sluttiest whore in Seoul would look like Jackie Onassis compared to you."

"That's pretty rough," I said. I wasn't smiling. His words cut me. And where did he get off being so high and mighty moral? He'd fucked me, hadn't he? Maybe I'd started it, but he never bothered to put away his hard-on and turn me down.

"How else would anyone describe you? You'll go to bed with anything on two legs. You've hounded me from the first time we were together, and I know there were others before me. Now-now, you're so lacking in common decency as to bed down with a cheap little teen-aged lesbian while I sit here listening to the disgusting sounds of it."

"You could have joined us," I said. "My bed's plenty big enough for three. Then we wouldn't have been lesbians, would we? We'd have been an orgy."

I thought he was going to hit me. Really! His fist clenched and went all white, and the muscles of his neck stuck out vividly.

But I was brave and just a little pissed off. "Besides, Kendy isn't a lesbian. She's my friend, which is apparently more than I can say for you. Sure, we like to screw around together, and I think she likes girls more than she likes guys. On the other hand, she keeps telling me that she'd like to put the make on you. How does that sound, Uncle Roy? Would you enjoy fucking Kendy? Take your big cock and just eeeeeaasssse it up her? Her cunt's tight, a lot tighter than mine, really. You'd have to be careful or you might hurt her. So how does it sound? Would you like me to pimp her out to you?"

That was when he did hit me. Hard. Really hard. The crack was like a gunshot and my face stung and my eyes filled with burning tears. I'd bitten myself from surprise when he hit me, too, and I could taste the sour drops of blood on my lower lip.

"You bastard," I said, tight-throated. "You rotten, lousy bastard! I hope you die! I hope your cock shrivels up and your Goddamned balls drop off, one at a time!"

I jumped from the chair, intending to leave the room at once. In another minute I might grab the letter opener on the desk and stab him with it. But first I'd cut his cock off, and I'd make him watch.

He grabbed me and I fought him, but none of my blows or kicks contacted. He was bigger, stronger, and he held me the way a pin holds an exhibited butterfly.

"Jenni, please," he said, "I didn't mean to hit you – I couldn't hurt you – please, listen – you don't know – I…"

"LET GO!" I was kicking and screaming now. "I wouldn't ball you again if you were the last man on earth! I'd find a dog, or a gorilla, or a fucking pig, and I'd screw its ass off in front of you, but I wouldn't touch you to save your life!"

He twisted my wrist, and it hurt so much I couldn't scream. His face came in close, big, imposing, his lips trembling as he searched for words to speak. "Jennifer, please – I don't know what I'm saying, doing – everything is confused – sometimes I want you so much, want you in my arms, in my bed, and sometimes I know that I can't, that we can't, that it's too terrible…"

"Huh?"

He seemed to regain some composure as I stopped struggling. "It's you," he said, "and I have my responsibilities to you, to your mother. But I'm a man, Jenni. I have urges and desires. Goddamn it, I want to be your father, the way I should be, but…"

"Well, you're not," I snapped, taking advantage of what seemed to be a weakness in his offense. "So don't come on with any daddy shit. I'll live my life and you live yours. Right? And if I want to fuck a girl friend or a boy friend, you live with it. Right? 'Course, if you find any of those urges getting too strong to control, you know where to find me. Room at the far end of the house. Knock twice and say 'Peter sent me'." I was turning away, throwing the words over my shoulder, when he grabbed me and spun me around so fast I nearly fell over. Roy backhanded me savagely, two or three times, and when my vision cleared, I didn't recognize his face any longer.

"All right," he said, "if that's the only way you can be reached. I don't care any more. Why should I kill myself by degrees when I can do it all at once."

"Look," I said, squirming, "I really don't feel like it, if it's all the same to you…"

He twisted my arm again and I bent halfway to the floor. "You little bitch," he said hoarsely, "you don't have any say in this. You've been asking for it, and now you're going to get it."

He forced me to turn around, and his hands found my tits. They were heaving beneath my thin T-shirt and he fondled them brutally, savaging the nipples which were erect in spite of my discomfort. And as he held me backwards against him I could feel the growing stiffness of a hard-on in his pants, a big hard-on. God, I'd almost forgotten how really big his cock was!

Roy turned me around once more, so that I was facing him. His countenance was twisted and – almost – tortured in its expression. I really didn't know him any more. Where was the shy older stud I'd boldly seduced and wickedly teased? He was gone, and a stranger filled his shoes.