The Sins of the Father

"I loved you in the morning
Our kisses deep and warm,
Your head upon the pillow...
...Hey, that's no way to say goodbye."

Just occasionally, I like a bit of Leonard Cohen. Today, this song seemed to fit both the circumstances and the mood. I skipped over a few tracks -- Cohen can be quite depressing.

"If you want a lover, I'll do anything you ask me to.

If you want another kind of love, I'll wear my leather mask for you..."

When he got to the bit about working the street, Helen laughed.

"That's appropriate. Can we stop for breakfast soon? I'm starving."

"Sure Sweetheart. There's a diner in a couple of miles. I passed it on my way here."

As Mr Cohen launched into Hallelujah, Helen changed discs, picking the last of her compilation CDs for my journey down. Tina Turner lifted the mood with steamy windows.

"B's amazing, isn't she?" Helen asked as we settled into a vacant booth in the diner.

"She's lovely. Sorry if I neglected you a little last night."

"Silly Daddy. We have all summer, starting tonight."

"What can I get you?" Our waitress arrived to take our order.

"I'd like OJ, black coffee, white toast, scrambled eggs and bacon done really crispy."

"And you, Miss?"

"I'll have the same. Thank you."

When the waitress had gone, Helen continued where she'd left off. "Tonight I want you to make love to me like you did B. That was just how I've always fantasized about you and Mom."

"OJ... and Coffee. Your breakfasts will be two minutes. Enjoy." The waitress came and went quickly.

"So you want old people's sex?"

"It's not old people's sex. It was beautiful: Just two people expressing their feelings for one another without all the gymnastics."

"B was faking it then. She can't have feelings that strong for an old guy like me."

"You think? I do."

"That's different. You've loved me all your life."

"And I've loved B for two years. I know her... and I know what I saw you two doing last night. Daddy, B's home life has never been happy. Her father was never there and her mother might as well not have been. She was a lonely child but bright: very bright. She's on a scholarship. Daddy, B's a straight A student. That Latin in the restaurant? She'd have understood you just as easily in French or Russian and she can read Sanskrit. I didn't even know there was a language called Sanskrit until I met her, but she learnt it to be able to study ancient Indian art properly: B's read the Kama Sutra in the original.

But I was telling you about her family."

"Scrambled eggs, crispy bacon and toast." The waitress brought our food. "Can I get you anything else? More coffee?"

"Not just now, thanks."

"Enjoy." She left us to eat.

"You were saying?" I asked Helen as I tucked into my breakfast.

"B's never felt loved by anyone but me. A drunk mother, a mostly absent father, no brothers or sisters and a string of boyfriends who treated her like a theme park -- 'You must be this tall to ride this girl.'" Helen held her index fingers about six inches apart. "And one day, along comes this guy who goes on all the rides then takes her away from all the light and noise and excitement and shows her somewhere quiet, peaceful and breathtakingly beautiful. There was no way B was faking anything with you."

"And we just left her standing in the doorway of a motel, alone." I suddenly felt guilty about leaving her like that.

"But you did promise to come back." Helen said around a mouthful of eggs. "That's what matters to her: That and knowing that somebody, somewhere can feel like that toward her. You did a good thing last night, Daddy."

"So I'm forgiven for giving her all the 'Daddy's special sauce'?"

"I didn't say that!" Helen gave me a smouldering look. "But I've worked out your penance. By the time we get where we're going today, you're gonna be begging to come inside me."

"More Coffee?" The waitress looked like she'd heard the end of that sentence. She looked disapproving.

"Thank you." I moved my cup within her reach.

Helen smiled sweetly at her as she indicated her own cup. "Thanks, Janine." She read the name on the waitress' uniform.

"How d'you know I'll beg? Maybe I'll just throw you down on a bed, tear off your panties and rape you?" I kept my voice low.

"You won't."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Because I'm not wearing any. I'm as bare as B today."

* * * * *

When we got back to the car, Helen laid a towel on her seat before getting in. "I don't want to stick to the seat." She explained, getting in with her dress lifted so that she wasn't resting on it.

Once back on the open road, Helen tucked her dress right up, leaving me in no doubt about her lack of underwear. She parted her legs enough to get her hand between them and began to caress herself while I drove. As if that wasn't distracting enough, she grabbed the shift and stroked it up and down as if it was a penis and she was trying to give the SUV a hand job. All at once, my jeans were far too tight.

I opened the glove box and tossed the pine scented air freshener into it. "This is my penance, is it? The chance to watch you masturbate and a car full of the scent of pussy? Oh, what an ordeal." I tried for a sarcastic tone.

"Daddy, do you know how long I can masturbate for? I was a cam girl. I can do this for eight hours at a time. How long will it take us to drive to tonight's motel?"

"Six hours."

"And how long will it feel like for you, this close to this?" She held musky fingers under my nose.

"Like I told your friend Christabelle, when I didn't look down her sweater, I have self-control." I felt confident I'd win this round of the power struggle.

"We'll see." Helen sounded confident too, and that worried me.

After fifty miles the smell of her arousal was overpowering in the confines of the car but I refused to give in even as far as turning on the air conditioning.

"Was this what it smelled like in the room you worked cams in?"

"God, yes. And they keep those rooms very warm because we're wearing skin most of the time. You know, Daddy, I reckon if I put my feet up on the consol like this..." She kicked off her sandals and lifted her feet up by the windshield. "Then I can get this vibrator in. See." She'd been sitting on the vibrator for twenty miles but it had been long ways, with the buzzing end pressed to her ass, which she'd delighted in telling me all about. Now the buzzing was even more muted because she'd found a way to stick the toy where it was always intended to be.

"I see." I risked a glance. It was a big vibrator. In fact, it looked familiar. "Is that the one you used to use two handed for 'Papa'?"

"The very same." And because I'd mentioned it, she started pumping it hard into her pussy with that two handed grip that made her look like she was trying to stab her clit to death. "Oh...Oh yes...Oh yes...Oh...That's it..." and so on for several more miles: A running commentary on what she was doing to herself that culminated in a theatrical, screaming orgasm that splashed the mat in the foot well.

And still she didn't stop tormenting me. The vibrator got offered for my perusal then licked clean. Her fingers spent several minutes commuting between one pair of lips and another before the vibrator's quiet buzz replaced sucking sounds as the soundtrack to my torment.

But I was strong. I was resolute. I would not succumb to my wayward daughter's temptation tactics. I drove on.

I got a hundred miles from Boston before I gave in. A picnic spot off the highway turned out to be deserted. We'd stopped for a comfort break but when Helen followed B's example, coming back to the car carrying her dress instead of wearing it, I snapped.

"Daddy!" Helen protested as I grabbed her, pushing her back onto the hood of the car and forcing myself between her thighs. Not that I had to use much force. Despite her protest, she made no attempt to physically resist as I fumbled open my jeans releasing my cock, too long confined.

Helen smiled in triumph as I thrust hard into her slick pussy. "Fuck me Daddy... Come in my cunt."

Like I needed encouragement. I slammed into her hard and fast, heedless of the public spectacle we could so easily become. I grabbed at her tits, pinching her nipples hard enough to make her gasp but as soon as I let go of them she took over, twisting her nipples harder than I would have.

With as grunt of triumph I thrust deep and hosed her cervix with boiling semen. A couple more thrusts and a couple more jets of jism, then I stopped fucking her and gasped for breath, still rooted in her body.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked her between deep breaths.

"You're learning." Helen grinned up at me. "Don't take it out." She hooked her feet behind me to hold me inside her as I softened.

"I have to, Sweetheart. I'm bursting to pee." And now I'd cured my erection, I could.

"So pee."

"What?"

"It's something I've never tried. Pee inside me. Go on, Daddy."

"You really are a dirty girl." I shook my head in disbelief.

"A dirty whore, Daddy."

"Well, Daddy's little whore will just have to wait for that. I don't want to ruin these shoes." Brute strength got me free of her legs so I could relieve myself in the more usual manner. Helen hopped off the hood and followed me into the washrooms. When I came out, we were no longer alone. Two guys were putting a cooler and a bucket of KFC on one of the picnic tables while their girlfriends were coming straight to the washrooms. I froze. Had Helen taken her dress with her? No, I could see it on the roof of the SUV.

"OH MY GOD!" was all I heard from the washroom before Helen strolled out as if nothing was wrong.

"Shall we go?" She asked as if nothing was wrong.

"I think we'd better." We got halfway to the car before the guys noticed Helen. She just waved and smiled sweetly. For some reason the guys couldn't take their eyes off her, even when she retrieved her dress and put it on.

"Did the girls in the washroom say anything?" I asked as we rejoined the road.

"Oh my god!"

"Apart from that?" I'd heard that much.

"No. I just said they could fuck you too, if they wanted two hundred bucks a piece."

"You said that?" I didn't want to believe her, but somehow I knew she was telling the truth.

"Well it shocked them into silence long enough for us to get out of there. When do we stop for lunch?"

"In about fifty miles. Why? Hungry?"

"Mainly thirsty. Can I put some music on?"

"Anything you want, Sweetheart. Anything you want."

* * * * *

"This is what I've been waiting for." I held Helen close in the sanctity of our motel room. "Just the two of us." I kissed her deeply.

"I thought you enjoyed the three of us last night."

"Don't tease. You know very well I enjoyed you and B... Especially B, but that was a surprise. What I really wanted last night - what I've wanted for months -- was to get you alone."

"And?"

"And what?"

"To get me alone and...?"

"And sexually abuse my own daughter all night long."

"You pervert!" from Helen that was a compliment. She squeezed my ribs and plunged her tongue into my mouth. I lifted the back of her dress and fondled her bottom, a finger finding the puckered paradise I craved. "If you want to fuck my ass, I'd better go to the bathroom first." She let go of me.

Helen's dress vanished in seconds and she squatted to rummage through her vanity case. She showed me what she'd been looking for. "Tools of the trade?" It didn't take much imagination to figure out what a rubber bulb with a nozzle the size of her index finger was for. I surmised that the contents of the bottle went where the nozzle went and wet wipes are self-explanatory -- the clue's in the name.

"Yep. My cunt may be worth five hundred bucks a night, but it's my ass that earns the tips. This stuff is for all those times a cock has gone straight from my ass to my mouth. It's anti-bacterial, like mouthwash. Come and see how I get ready for a pay-date."

"Is that a popular pastime?" I followed her swaying bottom into the bathroom and perched on the side of the tub, taking off my shirt and Jeans while she sat on the loo and filled the rubber thingamabob.

"You have no idea. It's increasingly popular in the porn industry. Naturally, if you see it you want it. It's not the weirdest thing I'm asked to do." When she'd finished emptying her bowels, she cleaned herself thoroughly with wet wipes then dabbed a little lube on her sphincter with a fingertip, then the nozzle went straight up. She squeezed the bulb until it was empty and pulled it out.

"What is the weirdest?" I could hear her squirting the -- I suppose you call it asswash -- out again. I love these little heart to heart talks with my little girl.

"Truffles. The last time Francis Deerborne booked me, he bought me a box of Belgian chocolate truffles. He wanted me to stuff them all up my ass then shit them into his mouth. Weird. He's a very big tipper though." She wet-wiped herself again then stood up and flushed. "I've got some candy bars, if you want to try it." She cleaned my cock with one last wet-wipe, which felt pleasantly cool on the hot, taut flesh.

"Let's skip the chocolate. Get your ass in there!"

Her ass tasted just fine without chocolate. Helen took a flying leap, landed on her back on one of the beds and swung her legs up and over her head, propping her hips up with her forearms so I could lick her from ass hole to clit without breaking eye contact. And I licked her a lot: flicking at her clitoral hood, delving between her lips in the wet, pungent hole of her vagina and probing and tickling her puckered anus until it started to relax and dilate a fraction.

As I moved my attention from one target to another, Helen suggested lube and a finger or two would help. Remembering B's thumb trick, I reached for the lubricant. Her excitement was bubbling out of her pussy now and I lapped up every drop, sucking on her engorged lips and the swollen tip of her clit, making her gasp and squeal as she writhed against my mouth.

Two thumbs turned out to be easy. On my daughter's suggestion, I stuck my index fingers and middle fingers into her pussy too and pulled both holes wide open.

"Wider, Daddy. I can take it." The walls of her vulva were slick and glistening as more of her juices bubbled up. I pressed my face against her crotch and slurped noisily as if trying to get the last mouthful of a pussy flavoured milk shake. Helen giggled at the noise. "Dirty Daddy. Stick it in my ass too."

Obedient to her whim, I stuck my tongue deep between my thumbs. When I pulled out my tongue, thumbs and fingers, Helen rolled over onto her hands and knees and wiggled her hips.

I reached for more lube, slicking it along the length of my cock, then shuffled behind Helen, guided my glans to her oily sphincter and pushed gently into her rectum. All the kinky games are fun but this was still the thing I always came back to -- seeing the base of my cock stretching my daughter's ass. If I could have only one more sexual experience ever, this would be it. I began to thrust, holding onto her hips and pulling her back against my pelvis as I drove forward.

She reached back and started slapping her pussy, murmuring, "Fuck me, Daddy." over and over as I did just that.

When I came, she moved forward, dislodging my still twitching cock, and spun round to take it into her mouth, catching the last few drops of my orgasm on her tongue and sucking greedily on me as I softened despite her efforts.

She didn't stop. She sucked my limp cock lovingly, settling down to her work, eyes closed, sucking like a baby on the tit. Soon enough I started to firm up. Helen worked on me with tongue and teeth and palpitating cheeks long past when I was hard again: sucked and licked and nibbled until I could hold back no longer and ejaculated in her mouth. Two really satisfying orgasms in five minutes.

"How was that, Daddy? Fun?" Helen mopped a stray drop of cum off her lips then sucked it off her fingertip.

"Wonderful, Sweetheart, absolutely wonderful." I lay down next to her and drew her close for a cuddle.

"Hmm. Older men are so much better at cuddling." She nestled against me.

"And just how large a sample group helped you draw such a conclusion?"

"A little over a hundred."

"At five hundred a time? Darling daughter, you're going to be rich." My little girl may be a whore, but she's a damned good whore.

"Three hundred a time. The agency takes forty percent. But I get to keep all my tips."

"Forty percent? That seems a lot."

"Not really. They screen the clients, pay off the concierges of all the major hotels so we don't get hassled and we're the only girls who get to work the hotel bars. I think there must be other payoffs too. Oh, and medical cover. They have a gynaecologist on the payroll."

"Ok. Makes sense."

"It's also why I booked you into a motel instead of the presidential suite at the Hilton. If I spend a night in any decent hotel, the agency gets to hear about it from the concierge -- they get paid for keeping tabs on us. If you'd stayed in a hotel, I'd have had to pay the agency two hundred because there's no way they'd believe I wasn't working."

"So how much have you squirreled away?"

"There's fifty five grand in that bag." She pointed at one of her smaller cases. "Can't bank it without the IRS noticing and I've already been fucked by my customers so I don't see why I should get fucked by the government too."

"And you left it in the car last night? What if it was stolen?"

"None of my bags looks worth the effort of stealing. Anyway, it's not my problem anymore: It's yours. I want you to look after it for me. I don't need it at the moment and I think you know more about how to invest it without declaring it so I'm delegating that job to you."

"Does that make me your pimp?"

"No. Just my Daddy."

"Good."

"Ooh! I forgot! I wrote you a love poem." Helen sat up and straddled my hips, incubating my limp cock under her warm crotch. "Want to hear it?"

"Of course." I toyed idly with her perky nipples as I waited for her to recite her poem. She mouthed it silently first, making sure she remembered it all, then looked down at me with eyes that held me mesmerised.

"Take me any way you want.
Lick my holes, drink my pee,
Fuck my mouth, my ass, my cunt.
Use me, abuse me, piss on me.

Bend me naked across your knee
And spank me for being a filthy slut,
Then stick your hard cock into me
And squirt your jism up my butt.

Let me lick you, let me suck you,
Until your cock is hard once more.
Just lie back and let me fuck you.
Call me Daddy's little whore."

"I am lying back." The heat of her pussy had hatched another hard-on. "And it's time Daddy's little whore showed me what fifty five thousand dollars worth of pussy can do.

She did and it's worth every penny. Although, as her father, I admit I am not unbiased.

"Do any of your dates ever want to hurt you?" I was watching her give my cock the kiss of life. After five orgasms today and 3 of them in the last hour, it was amazing that she was getting a pulse out of the little guy.

"The agency filters them out because I didn't tick the S and M boxes on my preference questionnaire." She used the interruption of her fellatio to grab the lube.

"What's that for?"

"Your ass, Daddy. A little prostate massage will have you up and about in no time." She'd done it once before, on our bathroom floor at home.

"So you've gone off the spanking thing?"

"Do you want to spank me, Daddy?" She put on her little girl voice as she detected an ulterior motive behind this line of investigation.

"Not tonight, but sometime this summer I figure you'll be naughty enough to deserve it." I'd been really conflicted the first time I'd spanked her, but she'd responded so well to it and the sex afterwards had been awesome.