Lusty Blue Eyes

She'd had it. Everything had gone straight to hell in a Porsche shaped hand basket. A brand new, bright red 911 with leather bucket seats, a cd changer, her husband, and his secretary. She was living a cliche. Twenty-seven years of age and she'd been reduced to a cliche. At least there are no children, everyone commiserated. As if that made a difference. There was children, if you counted the twins growing nicely in her husband's lover's belly right about now. Was it her fault she wasn't exactly a fertile Myrtle? No. It wasn't, some people were meant to singlehandedly populate a football team, some people were meant to adopt.

Staring out of the 29th floor corner office window at the busy street below, the corner office that should have been hers, she came to a decision. She had to get out. She had a college degree in business administration, she could damned well use it.

Whirling around, she strode purposefully, very much the ball busting business professional, to her desk. Popping open her briefcase, she put a few things into it, the pictures of her family, a stuffed bear Daddy had given her when she got this job, her college diploma didn't fit, so she hand carried it. A quick call to the boss, she was a prick anyway, and she was out of there.

Once again, she strode with all the professional confidence a junior associate was expected to move with. What the hell for? She just quit without the benefit of notice. Tucking the diploma more firmly under her left arm, she kicked off her black Italian leather Ferragamo pumps and skipped out of the building, giggling. She felt so free.

She wasn't running home to Mommy and Daddy, primarily because Mom lived in Pasadena with her boyfriend. She wasn't running to Daddy either, of course she wasn't, she was a fully grown capable woman just stopping in to visit her father before going on with her life. Who the hell was she kidding? She wanted to curl up in Daddy's lap and bawl like she did when she was fourteen and Ron Blackmore had dumped her for Sheila Rogers of the double D's.

After she'd left the hollowed halls of Whitney, Fillmore, Brock, Chase, Martin, Chesapeake, Morton, Widenour, Smith, and Corrine forever, she drove to a Ford dealer and traded her trophy Lexus off on a big honking F-250 with all of the truck trimmings. She was never driving a cliched car again. She just didn't know she'd be scared of the stupid truck. Who knew that the darned thing was twice the length of her Lexus and three times as heavy? At least she didn't kill anyone. Dents added character to pickup trucks anyway. Maybe Daddy knew what the four wheel drive business was actually for.

Okay Slick, she told herself, enough sitting in the driveway. Daddy would call the cops if you don't get out of the truck soon. She opened the door and the ding ding ding reminded her to remove the keys. Getting locked out of her own truck on the third day of owning it was just too embarrassing to contemplate. She slammed the door shut without getting out. Daddy had company, after all. He drove the Navigator, she knew that, who drove the Mustang?

Oh well, she was his daughter dammit, and she needed him. His company could just go home. She climbed out of the cab of the truck, locked the doors, and slammed the driver's door. Drat, she locked the freaking keys in the freaking truck like the world's biggest freaking idiot. She jerked at the handle for a few moments. She was just going to have to go inside and face Daddy, let him know that his eldest daughter really was a failure. A failure as a wife, a failure as a want to be mother, a failure as a lover, a failure in business. Well, not a failure in business, she just up and quit without bothering to think things through like an intelligent person would. Okay, so she was flighty, not a failure. Was that better?

She was in the front door before she realized she probably should have knocked. She dithered a moment, trying to decide if she should go out and knock or if she should just call out. A familiar laugh stopped her short. Her sister was here? Oh great, now she'd have to fess up to her life, the failure, in front of her sister too. The laugh cut off and turned into a long low moan.

Her sister was hurt? An oooooooooooooooooh followed that, then a long masculine groan mingled with the oooh. Daddy was letting Darling bring her boyfriends over? The sounds were coming from the den, along with the crackling of a fire and soft music.

"Ooooh right there, that feels good," her sister moaned. The man groaned something she couldn't understand back, then obviously did more to the "right there" spot because her sister suddenly squealed.

The chair was obstructing most of the view, she could see two naked bodies, a man on top of her sis, older, but still lean and well shaped. She paused a moment, to admire the anonymous man's backside. He had a nice one, that was for sure. Much better than that prick she'd been married to. The sight of the two healthy bodies making love in the glow of the fire was compelling. She'd never realized the hidden beauty in sexual relations, porno just didn't do it justice. She felt a wet clenching deep in her belly.

"Oooooohhhhh Dad, I'm cumming," her sister howled, then continued howling incoherently. Darling was into role playing?

DADDY??????

She dropped the keys she'd been holding in her hand, they fell to the thick rug with a muted clatter. Stepping farther into the room she could see the back of her Daddy's head and her sister's face twisted with ecstasy.

"Daddy?" her brain screamed mutely in outrage. Both of them froze as if they'd heard her, well her sister sort of deflated, still panting from the force of her orgasm. Her father slowly twisted his head and stared at her, looking rather like an eight year old with his hands in the cookie jar.

"Daddy?" she whispered it this time, just too shocked to say anything coherent.

"It's not what you think, Baby," he said soothingly. Her jaw flapped like a landed fish. "It's... it's..."

"Sis? Go on up to your room," Darling ordered, still breathless. "I'll be up in a few minutes to explain, just go on up, okay?"

Mutely, she picked up her keys and went to her room. Her mind simply refused to wrap itself around the fact that the sensuous coupling she'd just witnessed had been her father and her sister. Naked. Together. Fucking. She didn't notice when she sat on the bed and dropped her keys on the floor. Daddy and fucking, well that just defied all logic. Everyone knew that Daddies just didn't fuck. Well, maybe once or three times, but only in the purest catholic sense of the word fuck. She bent over and retrieved her keys. This was too much.

"Baby?" Daddy's voice preceded his soft knock. He opened the door and stepped into the room. The girlishness of it clashed with his masculinity. He was wearing his pants. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed. After all, her sister got to see everything. And taste it. And feel it. And... Oh good grief, what was she thinking?

"Tell me she just had some popcorn stuck in her throat and you were giving her the heimlich maneuver," she begged.

He laughed, a deep, rich attractive laugh. She'd always wanted a man that laughed like Daddy did. The Prick fell short there too. "You know what we were doing, Baby. I imagine you're a little shocked and confused."

She didn't want to talk about it. "I'm getting divorced," she said instead. He sat down next to her and squeezed her hand. "And I quit my job. And I have a stupid truck that I locked my keys inside of."

"Your keys are in your hand," he pointed out gently.

"Oh." She looked at her keys in her hand, feeling the tears gathering. He made an abortive move, as if to hug her, then reconsidered and dropped his hands into his lap. The lap that was still prefaced with a rather large, unsatisfied bulge. The Prick's dick wasn't that big either.

"Baby, your sister and I are living together," he said bluntly. "We have been for a while."

"I can share the room still." Her voice held an edge to it, a mild warning that she really didn't want to know. She just wanted to happily pretend everything was perfectly hunky-dory down at the Ponderosa. Adam was still sorta cute, Hoss was still adorably dumb, Little Joe was still that Highway Angel guy. An image of Loren Green boffing her sister invaded, tearing up that little fantasy.

"She sleeps in our bed. Mine and hers."

Closing her eyes, she pressed her palm to her forehead, the keys to the stupid truck digging painfully into her flesh. "Maybe I should get a hotel room," she said miserably. She'd counted on staying with Daddy until she could get straightened out. She just didn't have the funds to support a decent room and still go through with her plans to buy a business.

"No, you can stay here. I just want you to understand the relationship your sister and I have."

"How long has this been going on?"

"A few months."

"The sex?" Visions of her sister at sixteen doing cheerleading in the buff for Daddy steamrolled through her brain.

"A year." He took her hand and squeezed it.

"Who all knows?"

"Just you and us. This isn't forever, Baby. We just needed each other for a while." He sighed, looking away. "We know it's wrong, it's just that well, we love each other, and a man and woman living together like we've been, well, things happen."

"But, but how-?" She didn't have a clue what to say next. What to think, or even what to feel. She kept picturing the two bodies writhing together in the firelight.

"I think you know how it's done, Baby. You are married."

She snorted. "It's been so long, I forgot how."

"You're a sexy woman, Baby, it couldn't have been that long for you. What man in his right mind would pass up a chance to make love to you?"

A few hours ago she would have blushed and chalked it up to an expected "Daddy compliment." The image or her Daddy sinuously fucking her sister invaded again. Did he mean he wanted to do her as well? "Would you, Daddy?"

He froze, as if suddenly aware he was treading on thin ice. "Baby, I'm only a man."

"That's kind of obvious, Daddy." She gestured at the tent in his pants, then rubbed her nose.

"You did interrupt us before I could cum, Baby. It doesn't go away on its own for quite awhile." After he said that a lengthy, uncomfortable silence settled in. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and broke the tension. "Tell me about this divorce."

She suddenly felt like the little girl who'd gotten ditched by Ron Blackmore all over again. "I caught Frank with his secretary. They were doing it in my bed. He got her pregnant, with twins." She still felt like curling up in her Daddy's lap. She leaned against him, her cheek to his bare chest, and his arms came around her. "So I quit my job, traded the Lexus in on a truck I can't drive, and I cleaned out our mutual funds. I'm going to buy a business here."

"I'm going to kill him."

"I'm better off without him anyway, Daddy. He was never man enough for me." She sniffled, trying not to leave a trail of snot across his naked pectoral.

"That's right Baby. He wasn't good enough for you."

"It hurts, Daddy."

"C'mere, Baby." He wrapped her even more tightly in his embrace and rocked her while she cried her heart out.

As competent a woman as she was, she still needed the support of the family. The Prick had no intention of divorcing her, he had no intention of doing anything but enjoying his little chickypoo somewhere in Bermuda. So she moved in with Daddy and Darling and went to work. She had two missions, divorce the Prick and purchase a business.

It was hard to get used to, thinking of her sister and her Daddy. She tried not to, but damn, her sister had to scream like a banshee every time she came, which was pretty much non-stop. Once or twice she caught her sister looking at her with a speculative gleam in her eye, but her father had kept his distance.

She found a chain of five service stations, two car washes, and a quickie lube station for sale. Like a blithering idiot, she plucked them up with a minimal down payment and installed herself as the gas station queen. It didn't dawn on her until the papers had all been signed and everything was hers, lock, stock, and motor oil that she knew absolutely nothing about the service station industry. Just how stupid can one woman get?

"Baby, it took you four months to buy the thing. It's not exactly an impulsive decision. You had to make a business plan and arrange for financing." Her Daddy slowly stirred the cream in his coffee. "You'll do just fine, it won't take any time for you to figure it out."

"But Daddy!" she protested. "I don't know anything about cars. I won't even drive my truck when I can borrow your Navigator!"

"You'll be fine, Baby. I have perfect faith in you."

"Oh Daddy, what if I fail again?"

"You never failed in the first place," he snarled, her vehement protector, even from herself.

"Yes, Daddy, I did. I couldn't stay with my job, I couldn't keep my man." The divorce would be final in a few more weeks, she'd taken the first step and had let her lawyers take her soon to be ex to the cleaners. That bit of viciousness was so unlike her, and she already regretted it. "I wasn't woman enough for him."

"Baby..."

"It's true Daddy. I wasn't beautiful enough and I wasn't a whole woman. I couldn't have his babies." She'd faced the awful truth weeks ago, that somehow, she hadn't been enough for him. If she had, the Prick would still be married to her.

"Don't you ever say that, young lady." He surged to his feet and leaned on the table, glaring at her. The knife froze inches from bagel as she stared at him in dismay. "You are a beautiful, intelligent, gorgeous, determined, sexy, successful young woman. No man in his right mind with all of his balls in place would ever prefer some stupid ball of fluff. You were too much for him, you challenged him too much and he wasn't good enough to meet that challenge."

He subsided in his seat.

"He wouldn't even have sex with me unless I made him," she whispered.

"Then he was an idiot."

There was silence for a while, nothing but the sound of cream cheese being jerkily spread on a toasted bagel. He took a sip of his coffee and contemplated her silently. One tear, then a second dripped from her eye. She looked up at her Daddy, meeting his steady, caring gaze. Once again, as it did all too frequently in the past five months, the image of her father's naked body making love to her sister invaded. Mentally, she substituted herself for her sister. She ripped her gaze away guiltily and fiddled with her bagel.

"Baby."

"Yes, Daddy." She wanted to kick herself. She sounded like some sixteen year old girl who'd broken curfew.

"What were you thinking about a moment ago?"

"Um, nothing."

"Baby..."

"Daddy, I don't want to talk about it."

"All right." He started to get up, then paused, as if arriving at some decision. He reached out and took her hand, squeezing it firmly. "Baby, if you need me for anything, and I mean anything, you just let me know. I'll help you, if I can."

"O-okay Daddy." Her voice was nearly inaudible. He waited for another few moments, then left her in the quiet kitchen for a solitary breakfast. Did he mean...?

No matter how busy she was, she couldn't keep her Daddy out of her mind. If you need me for anything, he was repeating incessantly. Her broad-chested, naked Daddy kept letting her know that he was there for her, in any way she wanted him. There had to be something wrong with a twenty-seven year old woman wanting her Daddy that way.

She had lied to a lot of people in her life, including herself. One of the things she swore she'd do after she walked out of Whitney, Fillmore, Brock, Chase, Martin, Chesapeake, Morton, Widenour, Smith, and Corrine was that she would never again lie to herself. No matter how tempting it was. Considering that she was in the unenviable position of lusting after her own father, well, lying was the least of her worries. She lusted after Daddy. She was a damned sick puppy.

How could she not? She got to listen to the "sex serenade" nearly every night, some days too. Her Daddy and sister went at it like a couple of rabbits in heat. Either Darling liked to fake orgasms or Daddy knew what the hell he was doing with a woman.

She sat at her desk in her office, the sound of an impact wrench buzzing in the cavernous garage not too far away. It had taken her a few days to learn what an impact wrench was, she still had now idea why it was called an impact wrench. As far as she could tell it was a wrench that removed bolts from tires and things and it was powered by air. Why not call it an air wrench? The air compressor kicked in on the other side of the cinderblock wall. The rattling was enough to shake her hind teeth. Maybe separate office space was called for. She made that a goal. New office when she solved the steady decline of revenue riddle.

She stared at the picture of her Daddy sitting on her desk. Revenue was the last thing on her mind. It had been several weeks since that talk in the kitchen, where he had given her the thinly veiled offer of his body for her use. Since then one of the mechanics had caught her eye and a little light flirting had cropped up. She had made the decision to never mix work and relationships. That put the hot mechanic firmly out of reach. She heard through the grapevine that he was seeing a stripper anyway. The dating scene wasn't what she was ready for, and other than a few men she'd chatted with online, the only man she interacted with on a personal basis was her Daddy.

The jarring ring of her office line brought her back from the dangerous trail her mind was about to take. "Hello?"

"Ms. Harris," the warm, congenial voice of her lawyer boomed over the intermittent wrrrrrrs of the impact wrench. "Congratulations!"

"It's done?"

"Just swing by my office and sign a few things. Then I'll file it and it's done. If you can be here in the next hour, I can have it filed today."

"I'll be there."

"I'll let Mary know you're on your way. See you shortly."

She depressed the hang up button and immediately called Daddy. "Daddy, I'm going to sign the papers in the next hour. Then he'll file it today and I'll be divorced!"

"Oh Baby, you wait there for me. I'll come get you and we'll go together."

"I'll be okay Daddy."

"I remember when I did it Baby, you shouldn't do it alone."

"Okay, Daddy. Maybe we can have some lunch afterwards. You know, celebrate my new freedom."

"That sounds good, Baby. On my way."

They rode in silence to her lawyer's office. The elevator music chimed irritatingly in the background. She smiled tremulously up at Daddy and he reached out and gave her hand a squeeze. He'd been right, now that it was here, the pain started all over again. This was it, this made it final. No more Prick in her life. Thank God he hadn't contested the divorce, so that meant no bloody battles. He'd just asked to keep the Porsche. Since he'd probably fucked his little twit girlfriend in it, she wanted nothing to do with it. "Thank you, Daddy."

"Anytime, Baby."

Signing the papers was almost anti-climactic. After putting her name on a few papers, she handed the pen back to the lawyer and stared at him, a little dazed. "This is it? That's all there is to it?"

"Yes it is, Ms. Harris. You've already seen the judge, so all that's left is to file these. I'll get these filed this afternoon and you'll be officially divorced."

"Thank you, Mr. Kramer."

Back in Daddy's Navigator she felt herself tearing up again. "It's over, Daddy." She stared dully at the passing scenery, grieving for her failed marriage.

He reached out and clasped her hand, offering her whatever comfort she would take from it. "I know, Baby. I know."