Blending Families

"So I've noticed, kitten." He slipped his two middle fingers into her opening, stroking in and out, while pushing outward on the walls of her vagina. "But for this time, it's not just about being aroused. I have to be sure you're opening up enough to let me in, so I'm going to be stretching your vagina to open it up. That'll also stretch the hymen, making it easier to tear.

"Besides," he said, kissing her lips, "I want to take the time to enjoy this. The way you and Cindy tend to share everything, this may be the only time we're together alone. I love you, kitten. I want this to be extra special for both of us."

"Don't worry, Daddy. I'll make sure we're alone. And tonight is already so special I'll remember it everyday for all of my life. I love you so much."

Suddenly her back arched. "Omigod! What did you just do? It was like an electric shock of pleasure." Mac moved his fingers inside her sheath, sending another jolt of pleasure through his daughter. "Oh, shit, Daddy, that feels so fucking good. Don't stop yet, please."

As he continued the stretching of her vagina, Mac leaned down and began nibbling at her pencil eraser sized nipples, causing her to arch her back again, pushing them into his face. In a few seconds, he felt her tense up, then heard a squeal as the air was forced from her lungs by her orgasm. He ceased stimulating her, leaving his fingers inside her, marveling at the pressure her tunnel walls were able to generate.

When she had recovered sufficiently, he pulled her over on top of him, and pushed her into a kneeling position, her pussy right over his cock. He reached down and helped her line him up, then instructed her to lower herself onto his rod. When he was in about three inches, she winced, but continued until she had engulfed all of his prick. He pulled her down on his chest, wrapping his arms around her. "You okay, kitten?"

"Mmhmm. It hurt a little, like a pinch or needle prick. I was expecting some thing a lot worse."

"A lot of the time, it is. You may have torn your hymen in gym or cheerleading; or you might have been born with only a partial one. Do you feel ready?" At her nod, he rolled them over, not losing an inch of penetration.

"Oh, god, Daddy," she mewed, "this feels so good. Even better than it felt before." He pushed her knees up so her thighs were resting on her stomach. "Unnh, oh shit! It feels like you just drove in another mile. Now, Daddy! Do me now!"

***** Mac woke in the morning to the wonderful feel of a warm, moist mouth surrounding the head of his erect cock. His moan told Tara he was awake and conscious. "Mrmmimmg," she hummed in greeting, sending shivers from the head of his erection to his balls and up his spine.

"O god o shit, Tara, I'm gonna cum." She sucked harder, pulling him deeper into her throat, then began to hum the 'Good Morning" song, pushing him to the point of ejaculation. His first blast went straight down her gullet. She pulled back slightly for the next two and caught them in her mouth. The next two or three could hardly be called blasts or eruptions, they were so small. After all, he had made love with Polly several times during the last forty-eight hours, plus he had come with Tara three times last night. Not too shabby for a man in his early forties.

After milking his prick for the last drops of seminal fluid, Tara pulled her mouth off him with a loud pop. "Morning, Daddy. Was that good?"

"Christ, kitten, I'm not sure I'll recover today. How'd you learn to do that?"

"When Polly was showing us how to give blow jobs, she said she and Mom used to talk about you and Mr. Freeman. She said Mom told her how she'd wake you up on weekends, so you'd be ready to go." She licked his still erect cock. "Looks like it still works." She smiled, horn hunger written all over her face. "You ready Daddy?"

"I would be, baby, but don't you think I should save some for Cindy?"

"She has to wait 'til next weekend. She's a bit out of sorts since her period is due in a couple of days. Even on the pill, she has a lot of premenstrual problems." She straddled Mac, and lowered herself. "Mmhmm; god, Daddy, you feel so good in me. I can see how a girl could become a slut, always wanting to feel this." She began the up and down motion, bouncing her breasts. Mac moaned in pleasure.

After they showered together, which seemed to take longer than if they had showered separately, and dressed, he sent Tara over to Polly, who asked Cindy to take Mac some of the muffins she had just taken from the oven. When she arrived, Mac was in his kitchen, in his jockeys, making coffee. In spite of her PMS, Cindy felt herself moisten when she saw the bulge in his shorts. Mac didn't say a word; he simply pulled her to him and kissed her lightly on the lips, one hand on her ass, the other lightly rubbing the nipple of her left breast.

"M...m...mac," she stammered, "a..are you going to...oh, yessss," she hissed as his mouth closed on her neck, just over the pulse point. She felt him start to pull up her tee shirt and reached to help him. When she felt him shake his head no, her hands dropped to her waist band, where she opened the button and started to unzip her jeans.

In less than a minute, she was standing in the middle of the kitchen in only her panties. Mac swept her up in his arms and carried her to his bedroom, placing her in the center of the bed. He took several seconds to admire her youthful body, highlighted by the black bush nestled between her thighs. Starting with her mouth, he laid down a path of kisses along the center of her body, headed for her labial crease, with interesting and fun side trips to her mini-mammas and the firm cherry colored points topping them.

She reached her first orgasm of the day when his tongue first brushed her clitoris. The second was on his fingers as he prepared her for her coital debut. Like he had done with Tara, the actual deflowering was done in the cowgirl position, giving Cindy control of the pressure and force to break through the fragile membrane.

Fear of the pain was keeping her from making the necessary thrust. Mac had her raise up an inch or so when she felt the contact within her sheath. "Now, when I tell you to, just settle back down gently. Okay?" he instructed her. She nodded. "Ready, now, down." And, as she settled down, searching for the contact point, Mac thrust upwards, through her barrier, causing a loud yelp of pain. With all her wetness, Mac's shaft was well lubricated, and once the blockade was gone, she continued to sink until their pubes were tte--tte..

Cindy's look of surprise gave way to one of pleasure as she accommodated to Mac's size and presence. Soon she started moving slightly up and down his pleasure rod. When he started moving with her, she first smiled, then groaned as the feelings began to overtake her. "Omigod, Mac, this is so fucking good. O! God! Don't! Stop! Do it more! Faster! Harder! More more more more!!" She started bouncing on him, nearly out of control. He pulled her down onto his chest and began increasing the tempo of his thrusting along with the force. Her orgasm caught them both by surprise. Had there been anyone in the basement of the colonial style house, they would have heard her joyous scream.

She confirmed that the second try was better than the first, and the third, just before they joined Tara and Polly for supper, when Mac came with her, was even better. That evening, they had their first foursome, nowhere near the last.

(Author's note 2: I was strongly tempted to end this tale here, but a number of readers, in public and private communications, have complained about my 'lady or the tiger' endings (as I refer to them). You all by now pretty well know what is going to happen next, and where the relationship with Polly is going, and what the relationship between parents and girls is going to be like. Threesomes and foursomes galore, if it needs to be spelled out. But then it occurred to me there was a loose end which needed tying up. So, as Paul Harvey used to say, "Here's the rest of the story.")

Early Sunday afternoon, following Thanksgiving. Mac untangled himself from the three women and went to look at his cell phone. While he had been fucking Polly he had heard it vibrate on top of the dresser. After several seconds, the vibrating stopped, and a minute later the phone emitted its annoying voice mail alert.

Around ten that morning, Polly and Tara had walked in on him and Cindy while Cindy was demonstrating her version of a wake up blowjob. A one man orgy ensued, during which he had truly wondered if he was going to live through the experience, then prayed that all the rumors he had heard about plentiful sex extending a man's life were true.

He keyed in his pin number and played back the voicemail message. "Senge MacMillan, this is Eric Howell, Sheriff of Albany County. Please call me at your earliest convenience. This is in regard to an apparent murder suicide which occurred here earlier this morning." The message went on to give an 800 number for him to call.

Mac returned the call immediately. "Sheriff Howell, this is Senge MacMillan. How can I help you?"

"Mac, you may not remember me, but we rode together on patrol several years ago. You were my training officer. It was just before you left and got married."

"Eric Howell? Tall, blonde guy, built like a linebacker, looked like you just woke up in a hay wagon."

The sheriff laughed. "You got a good memory. I'm sorry to call you on a Sunday with bad news. There was an accident down here this morning which looks like it may have been intentional. A woman who was involved had you listed as her emergency contact. Name Janice DeMarco mean anything to you?"

"Yeah, we were married for a while, then she left to find herself. Haven't heard from her for five years or so."

"She and a lowlife named Harry DeMarco were the victims in the accident. Would it be possible for you to come down and identify her body? There don't appear to be any other relatives, and we're not able to find any of DeMarco's associates to identify him. Right now, we're going on drivers' licenses for identification. As soon as we get them, we'll run prints and stuff."

"I understand. Yes, I can be there early tomorrow afternoon. Will that do?"

"That's fine. We have a new headquarters, just north of town on route 51. That the way you coming down?"

"Unless there's a shorter way." The two men laughed together.

"Entrance is in the back. Ask for me at the reception desk. And thanks, Mac. I'll see you tomorrow."

Mac sat across the desk from Sheriff Howell, listening. "According to the story the occupants of a car following them tell, they appeared to be physically fighting while driving north on the four-lane; they said it looked like he hit her with his elbow, knocking her across the seat toward the passenger door, then she sat up and the car suddenly veered off the road and down the bank toward the river. We had received a number of 911 calls about a car driving erratically on route 55 and had a patrol car in the vicinity on the scene in less than five minutes.

"When the officer got to the car, the driver was dead, and the woman, all but. When he attempted to assist her, she said 'Tell Senge I'm sorry. I tried,' then died, her hands grasping the steering wheel." The Sheriff opened the center drawer of his desk and withdrew a legal sized envelope which he passed to Mac. Mac glanced at the envelope, and when he saw it was stamped and addressed to him in Janice's handwriting, he looked up at the Sheriff. "It was in her purse. If there's anything pertinent to what happened, I'd appreciate knowing ASAP."

Mac nodded, and opened the envelope. He extracted a blank piece of paper with a key taped to it. A logo stamped on the key identified it as belonging to the Albany County Credit Union. On the back side of the head of the key were stamped the numbers 504. Mac looked at the Sheriff, a question in his eyes. "Safe deposit box?" he asked, passing the key to the Sheriff.

"Looks like. The Credit Union is on South Main, just past the light at the Four Corners, where Dave's Diner used to be. Isn't that where you met her? Hmph! Funny coincidence."

Mac stood up, promised to keep the Sheriff apprised if he found anything which would shed light on the accident. A quarter of an hour later he was walking into the Credit Union. When he presented the key and asked to see the deposit box, he was directed to a private room. A few moments later, one of the customer service reps entered the room with a medium sized deposit box.

She asked to see his driver's license, which she compared with some documents fastened to the top of the box. When she was satisfied, she explained that the original renter had restricted access to the box to themselves and to SaintGeorge MacMillan; anyone else would need a court order to open it, even with the key. She then left Mac alone with the container, closing the door behind her.

Inside the box were two large manilla envelopes, one with forty, the other, sixty, certificates of deposit, each worth fifty thousand dollars. Each CD in the smaller envelope was made out to Janice DeMarco and Tara DeMarco, as joint owners, with rights of survivorship. The CDs in the larger envelope were similarly designated, with Mac as the co-owner.

In a legal sized envelope, lying on top, was a handwritten note addressed to Mac:

Mac, if you are reading this, I am probably dead. When I jumped into your car that night so long ago, I had no idea how much it would change my life. Harry DeMarco was a kid from the wrong side of the tracks in my small hometown. He seemed decent enough in school and I dated him a couple of times. After we graduated, he got involved in some small scrapes with the law. One night he stole a car for a joy ride. Unfortunately, when he was pulled over by the local cop, I was in the car with him. The cop knew my Dad and insisted on driving me home after Harry returned the car. A few weeks later, when I told my parents Tara was on her way, they threw me out, saying my outlaw boyfriend could take care of me.

When I showed up at Harry's, he seemed cool with the idea of me living with him, even with the baby. He tried to find a job, but with his reputation, nobody was willing to trust him, so we moved to Albany. He got a job, it even had medical insurance with it. Unfortunately, it didn't cover my pregnancy, and when Tara was born, the cost was too much. I couldn't work any regular job because there was nobody to take care of her, so Harry had to look for a second job. I thought he had found one, because suddenly there was more than enough money. To secure his 'job,' he told me, I had to sleep with his gang leader and their boss. I wasn't happy, but Harry made it clear it was that or leave, with nowhere to go and no way to get there.

His job was lookout for a bunch of guys who were robbing stores and warehouses, then fencing their hauls out of state. A few weeks before I jumped into your car, they were almost caught, close enough so the patrolman was able to identify one of the other guys. They were all told to get out of state. Harry came home, told me what had happened and said he'd be in touch in a couple of days. He left me with $75 and said he'd send more when he could. You know how that went.

The next time I heard about Harry was when I saw that picture in the paper. Then, about a year before I left you, I got a phone call from the leader of Harry's gang, telling me Harry wanted to talk to me, in person. That was when I made up the story about my aunt needing to see me. I am so sorry, Mac, but if I refused, they threatened to hurt you and Tara badly. They knew so much about our lives, where you worked, when you left for work, where you had lunch, even your lunches with Tod.

Harry told me when he was being released and wanted me waiting for him. I told him I was going to need a long lead time to prepare you and Tara for my leaving. I'm afraid I didn't do a real good job of that, but Tara and I had some good talks about what it means to be grown up. A few weeks after he was released, Harry came and got me. He threatened you and Tara if I didn't go with him. Before he went to prison, he wasn't exactly polished, but now he is even coarser, and more cruel than before.

For some reason, they thought they could both control and trust me, and they put me in charge of hiding their money. Over the past five years, don't ask how, I have managed to skim the money represented by the CDs in the envelopes in this box. Use Tara's money for her college and her wedding. Whatever is left, she can use as she wants. The rest of the money is yours. These bastards, if they are still alive, will never miss it.

Harry recently saw a picture of Tara in her cheerleading uniform. He knows she just turned eighteen and is planning a visit to identify himself as her father, and to force her into an entry level job in his organization. He won't tell her, but I know that means turning tricks, starting with his pig of a boss. And she won't have any choice, he will find a way to force her to join him even if he has to kidnap her and turn her over to his gang to break her in. If I have to, I'll kill Harry and his boss to keep that from happening.

I love you both. Goodbye. J.

Mac wiped the tears from his eyes. He wondered, realizing he would probably never know, what hold Harry had over Janice. She knew Mac still had friends in law enforcement who would have been able to send Harry and his cohorts back to prison for threatening her and her family. Her letter went a long way toward explaining the wreck and the fight the witnesses had seen. He gathered up the two envelopes and the letter, then left the credit union.

On his way out of town, he stopped at the Sheriff's office and showed him the letter. After reading it, the Sheriff made a copy. He told Mac he would mark the investigation closed and ascribe driver's inattention as the cause of the accident. When Mac asked if he had any ideas who the boss she had referred to was, Sheriff Howell nodded, and told him he needn't worry, that body had been found in the river last week.

Mac asked him to send Janice's body to the funeral home which had handled Tod's memorial service and provided the address.

On the way home, he called Tara when he stopped for supper and let her know he'd be home around nine, and he would explain everything to her then. He also called Polly to let her know everything was okay and made a date to see her the next evening.

Tara was waiting for him in the living room, a bottle of Riesling chilled and open, waiting with her. He walked to her, and taking her hands, pulled her up, out of her seat and into his arms. "Let's talk in bed," he suggested and received a smile in return. After quietly making love, he told her about her mother's note to him, and about what the witnesses to the accident had seen.

"You think she caused the accident to stop my father from forcing me to work for him as a prostitute?" There was a note of uncertainty in her voice.

Mac nodded. "It fits and explains everything. She had anticipated what it would cost her. Along with her note, she left you a small legacy she said should be used to pay for your college and wedding, with a little bit left over to help you furnish your first house."

"Jeez, after college and a wedding, how much could be left? She couldn't have put together an awful lot in five years."

"Well, after college and a medium sized wedding, you should have a bit over a million dollars left to play with."

"Uh huh," she said derisively, " You can tell me in the morning over breakfast. I'm just glad we finally know what happened to her. I'm sorry she's gone, and I appreciate what she did for me, but what I feel mostly is relief, not having to wonder about where she is and if she's going to pop up someday and want her place with you back. That would be so awkward now."