MJ’s Story

MJ's Story.

If you've read 'My Daughter, the Gymnast', this tale follows on from there. That tale ended with Paul's (MJ's father) death in 2022. MJ (Molly Junior) was just 19, and although she didn't know it yet, she was pregnant with her second child.

Some of these events, therefore, occur sometime in a projected future.

All characters are over the age of 18.

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Do you have any idea what it's like to grow up with someone else in your head?

I remember the day of my birth. Weird, huh? My mum Molly held me for a few brief moments before she passed away. In those moments, as her life ebbed away, I felt her spirit enter my mind and meld with me.

People often felt sorry for me because I grew up without a mother. There was no way of explaining to them that I was closer to my mum than probably anyone else because she was literally in my mind.

As I grew older, I realised that I was unique, and all telling anyone about my mother being with me did was bring me visits to doctors and psychologists. I learned to keep what I know and how I know it to myself.

It was a little lonely, but my dad, Paul, was awesome. I know that every girl thinks their dad is the bestest in the world, but mine was. Dad was tall, athletic, and strong. He was handsome, well-educated, and well-spoken.

But most of all, he was calm, loving and steadfast in his love for, and belief in, his four children.

I was devastated when he lost control of his car and went to join mum. What made it worse was that mum left me then, too.

Her spirit left to be with dad. I was happy for that, but after more than 19 years of talking with her all day, every day, it was lonely.

I have three older brothers. Patrick (whom everybody calls PJ because my grandfather is also Patrick), Thomas (Tommy), and Robert (Robbie). Dad never had to discipline any of us physically. If we messed up, and we did, as all kids do, he would take us aside and speak quietly to us about why we had done what we had done, why it was wrong, and tell us how disappointed he was in our behaviour and how much he loved us.

Awesome, eh?

None of us four kids ever did the same thing wrong twice.

I went through a bit of a rebellious phase in my early teens. That's when having your mum inside your mind is both a boon and a burden.

It was a boon because it stopped me from doing anything really stupid, but I think every teenager deserves a few dumb things to laugh and reminisce about when they get old.

I heard dad talking to Nana Val and Poppa Pat about how I would stare at him much as my mother did and how much it unnerved him. I wanted to say, "It's not just me admiring you, dad, it's mum. And she desires you just as much as she did the night you and she consummated your love for each other."

But how do you tell your father that without sounding crazy?

I'd had numerous conversations with my mother about Dad and what he meant to her. How she had loved him from the first day she had met him when she was just five years old and how she had to wait another thirteen frustrating years before she could consummate her love for him. That's why she kept her distance from him she didn't trust herself to be appropriate.

Talk about soulmates!

When I turned eighteen, my feelings for my father changed. I wanted to experience the intensity of feelings my mother had experienced the night she and my father took each other's virginity.

I had 'lived' that night in my... well... mother's... memories and dreams many, many times. It was her favourite memory of their time together. I longed to experience something like it myself.

I discussed it with mum in my head. 'Honey, the problem is that your soulmate hasn't been born yet,' she told me.

'I'm eighteen, mum. If my soulmate hasn't been born yet, and even if he was born today, I'm going to be 36 before I can be with him. You're saying I'm going to have no one but dad for another eighteen-plus years?' I thought at her.

I could feel my mum smiling, 'There's one for you that will be yours until your soulmate arrives in your life. It will be a marriage of love and friendship until your soulmate is ready. You'll have four kids with him. It will be good for you both.

Then, when the time is right, you and your soulmate will join together.'

'When will 'my one' be here?'

'Soon, my baby girl. I want you to do something for me first, though.'

'Anything, mum. You know that.'

'I need you to seduce your father.'

'What?'

'You heard me, Molly. Your father is lost, and I can't seem to reach him because he's falling into despair. If we lose him too soon, your soulmate won't be born.'

'Dad's going to father my soulmate?' I asked.

'Something like that,' my mother mysteriously said.

'Isn't having sex with your father wrong?'

'Our family is different, Molly. We are more than family, more than related. We are kindred spirits that have found each other time after time over the millennia, and it's time for us all to be together again.

Your grandmother, my mother, Val knew this, but the time wasn't right for her, so she had her 'one' in Patrick. She decided he was enough for her, and that was as far as she went. Now it's our turn.'

'What if I decide my 'one' is enough for me, mum?'

'The choice, as it always has been, is up to you. If you decide your man is enough for you, it will fall to your daughter, your daughter's daughter, or... on down.

You, my girl, have the chance to bring the four of us who are one together. I don't know when the next time after that will come.'

'And the first step is to save my father?'

'Yes, Molly.'

'By seducing him?'

'By bringing him back from the edge and opening him up to me so I can reassure him that our time together is close.'

'Am I going to lose dad, too?'

I could feel my mum's reluctance to answer. Finally, she thought at me, 'Unfortunately, my dear, yes. He has to die so he can be reborn and we can all be together.'

'We all? You, dad, me, and my soulmate?'

'Yes.'

I thought this through for a time, trying to process why this should have seemed weird but wasn't. Then it occurred to me that there was a problem with the math.

'Won't I be way older than the rest of you?'

My mother's reluctance to answer was even more evident when she finally said, 'No.'

I worked this through in my mind, 'My time, this time around, is limited, too, isn't it?'

I could feel the emotion welling in my mother, 'Yes, my love,' she said. 'Val will have to finish raising a third generation before she can go to her rest and then meet her true soulmate.'

'She's nearly seventy, mum. How will she effectively raise my kids?'

'Your older brothers will help her. It will be fine, you'll see.'

'And if I don't? If I can't bring myself to seduce my father?'

'You already want to, Molly. Remember, I can see your innermost thoughts.'

I wanted to deny it, but mum was right. I wanted my father. I wanted him to make me feel how he had made mum feel so many times. I wanted him to be my first lover, just as he had been mum's.

Knowing my dad, I knew if I just came onto him, as mum had, he would freak out and probably spank one of his kids for the first time in my or my brother's lives.

Forming a plan, I came up with this - First: Get him to stop looking at me as his 'little girl' and recognise that I was a woman. Second: Make him realise I was a sexually desirable woman. Last: Break down the taboo barrier of having sex with your daughter.

My gymnastic skills were going to help, I thought.

I began by dressing provocatively.

Not slutty. That would have forced dad to say something. But by doing things like going braless in tight T-shirts that emphasised my tiny but shapely body. With my shirt clinging to my body, he couldn't help but notice how big and hard my nipples got in his presence.

I'd wear skin-tight shorty-shorts that clung to my taut ass, showed off my toned legs to their best advantage, and made sure I bent over, with my legs straight in front of him at every opportunity.

I'd time my shower for when he was home and strut out wearing nothing but the smallest towel I could find. The towel would barely cover my ass. If dad was in the kitchen or living room, I'd walk down to him before 'accidentally' dropping my hairbrush behind me so I could bend over and flash my sexy ass at him.

Mum had a trimmed pussy. I usually waxed mine clean, but I began letting the hair around my labia and clitoris grow out. Once my pussy had a good covering of hair, trimmed into a neat strip like mum's, I started wearing ultra-miniskirts.

When dad came into the house or a room, he'd find me sitting casually with a knee up and my pussy, barely covered by a thong, on display.

Dad tried not to look, but he is male, and I'm damned sexy (even if I say so myself). His eyes were drawn to where I wanted him to look, despite himself.

Dad would look away quickly, embarrassed by his body's natural sexual reaction to a young, beautiful woman, but not before his dick would jump. Mum had told me that dad had a nice thick, almost 7-inch cock.

Dad was way bigger and thicker than most guys. Ironically, according to mum, the little bit of porn dad had watched had somehow convinced him that he was probably a little less than average.

This meant, mum believed, that he didn't have the arrogance many guys with big cocks have. Because he thought he was undersized, he made up for it by using a lot of oral and finger stimulation.

'You'll see, my daughter. Your father will be the best lover you will have,' mum thought at me.

I thought things were progressing nicely, but mum spoke urgently to me only a few weeks later.

'You have to speed things up, honey. Time is becoming an issue. Something important will happen the day after your grandmother's seventieth birthday. Your father needs to take you by then.'

"A little exasperated, I replied, 'It's not like I can just rape him, mum. I don't have a cock."

'I have confidence in your seduction skills,' my mother answered acerbically. 'Try these things: Do a 'standing split' with your pussy behind only a leotard and faced towards your father. Start 'accidentally' dropping your towel so he can see you naked and aroused when you walk out of the shower. Every night, climb onto his lap when it's time for you to go to bed wearing a short nightie top and nothing else. Settle your pussy onto his cock. Hopefully, it will grow hard, then wriggle your ass on it.

Finally, my dear, one night after you've laid the groundwork, sit on his lap and kiss where his jaw meets his neck. As you kiss that spot, stroke the same place on the other side, then whisper, "I love you, Pauly boy" into his ear.

He's going to freak out, so be prepared for that. Insist you called him something else, Daddy dear, will do and he'll explain why he's freaking out. Tell him you're worried about his state of mind and insist on sleeping with him that night.

Once he has fallen asleep, we'll give him a blowjob.'

'I don't know how,' I replied.

In my mind, my mother smiled, 'I do.'

It became quite a game for me. Just how hot and sexually frustrated could I make my father? One of the biggest reasons I'd insisted that we move out to Augathella was that there were no brothels.

Dad hadn't had a steady romantic relationship since I was born. He'd had the occasional fling, usually with one of the other teachers at the school or sometimes with the mother of a school kid that wasn't in his class, but nothing serious.

Mum and I knew why. He was holding onto her promise that they would be together again.

'FFS!' Mum thought. 'I didn't tell him he had to live like a monk until we were together.'

I always knew when dad was exceptionally horny and frustrated because he'd be grumpy and bad-tempered. It never lasted more than a day or so, however. These were the times mum would visit him in his dreams, and he would dream they were together again.

Once I turned eighteen, mum let me come with her into dad's dreams as she visited with him... I mean... Wow! What an extremely powerful connection they had. The power of their love for each other, and the passion they shared, was both awe-inspiring and a little intimidating.

I started to long for my time with my soulmate to come.

What had mum worried was that dad had shut her out the last two times she tried to visit him as he slept.

I think he had begun to see my face in his sleeping fantasies and was afraid of what it meant.

I know it's wrong to desire your father sexually, but when your dead mother who lives in your head tells you you need to, what else do you do? In his and mum's dreams, I had made love to my dad twice since turning eighteen and wanted to experience it for real.

My fantasies, as I masturbated, centred on having dad's thick cock inside me.

Taking mum's advice, I ramped up my plan to seduce him. I'm only tiny, and daddy is so big, 6 ft. 4 in. (193 cm) to my 5 ft. (152 cm), so I couldn't push my pudenda against his cock as I cuddled him. Which was one of the ways Cleo magazine suggested was a way to seduce your man. So, I needed another plan.

I'm a little embarrassed about my big nipples, so I usually wear a bra to cover them. I'm only a 32B, so I don't need a bra for support. I'd strip my bra off as soon as I got home from school, masturbate to images of being fucked by my father until I was as wet and turned on as I could possibly be without cumming and then find daddy.

If he was on the couch, I'd climb onto his lap and make sure my hot pussy was pressed against his groin. The feeling of power I had when I felt dad's cock hardening underneath me was amazing.

That I could turn this wondrous, loving, and self-controlled man on was an incredible feeling. But dad still wouldn't take the next step.

If dad was marking papers, I would cuddle him from behind and rub my hard nipples across the back of his neck as I reached around to give him a cuddle. As I snaked my hands around him, I'd always 'accidentally' brush them across his cock.

Dad's dick would always jump, and dad would cough to hide his reaction. I loved it!

Dad still wouldn't cross the boundary into a physical relationship with me.

In desperation, I decided to put a show on for him. I selected my skimpiest leotard. This leotard is basically a thong along my perineum. It widens just enough to cover my pussy lips and clitoris and it leaves most of my ass cheeks bare. It was the one I wore in competition when I knew at least one of the judges was a perve. I reckoned this outfit was worth at least an extra quarter of a point from that judge, and that was often the difference between winning and finishing outside the medals.

'If this doesn't do it, nothing will,' I thought.

I waited until he was watching TV, then walked out in front of him.

"I'd like to test out a couple of new routines for you, dad. Do you mind watching them and telling me what you think?"

"Of course, MJ," he replied. "I thought you were giving your gymnastics away?"

"Yeah. But, just in case, you know?"

Dad nodded and settled back on the couch.

Facing away from him, with my barely covered taut ass inches from his face, I started to warm up.

Being a gymnast, I'm very flexible. I could eat my pussy, if I were that way inclined.

What's the matter with you? Of course, I've tongued myself to orgasm! Wouldn't you, if you could?

Dad would had to have smelt my arousal. I was offering my snatch to him in a blatantly obvious way, and he still wouldn't make the leap!

I did a standing split. That's where balanced on one foot you lift your other leg until your toes are pointed at the ceiling. Once my leg was straight up in the air, I leant sideways towards the foot on the ground and slowly spun myself around.

The leotard had ridden up my ass crack. The tiny bit of material still covering my pucker hole and labia was squeezed tight over my clitoris and was almost see-through because of how wet my pussy juices had made it.

As my barely covered pussy turned towards my father, I saw him gulp, his hips jerk forwards and jump. Then, with a stricken look, he ran from the room and down to his bedroom.

'Fuck!' I thought. 'I've pushed him too far.'

I ran after him, but just short of opening his door and rushing in to say I was sorry, mum stopped me.

'Just listen, honey,' she said. 'It's going to be okay now. Your dad doesn't know it, but he's crossed the boundary into admitting he sexually desires you.'

We listened at the door. There wasn't much to hear except for some deep and guttural grunts.

'What's he doing, mum?' I asked the presence in my mind.

'Cumming over you, my dear. Well, not literally, but to his sexual attraction of you.'

A moan of anguish followed the grunts.

In tears, I reached for the door handle.

Mum seemed to almost physically hold me back, 'If you go in there now, you'll destroy him. He doesn't need to know that you know he's just had an orgasm to visions of fucking you. Go and shower and get changed into your pyjamas, top and bottom.

Give him about an hour, then put his favourite dinner on. When it's ready, go and get him. Act like you're scared you've done something wrong and that he's angry with you.'

'I have done something wrong, mum!' I yelled at her in my mind. 'Didn't you see him? He looked like he did the day you died!'

Shocked, my mother said, 'You remember that day through my memories?'

'Yes, mum! I remember everything you do.'

'I guess I knew that but didn't want to think about it.'

For the very first time in my whole life, in the entire time she had inhabited my mind with me, I felt a deep sadness welling from my mother.

'I've used you terribly, Molly, haven't I? I'm so very sorry, my girl. I was so hooked on having you do what I needed you to do for the next stage of our lives that I didn't let you live your current life.'

'It's okay, mum,' I thought back. 'I want to do it, but please, can I have something just for me?'

'You will have, my love,' she told me. 'You will have a wonderful man with whom you will raise some wonderful children and spend a good part of your life loving. I'll make sure of it.

It will push things back, but not so far it will cause problems.'

Oh, if only I'd known mum would leave my mind when dad passed over. If I had, I would have insisted everything happened now, even if it meant my death at the same time as dad's.

About two hours later, I knocked on dad's door and waited until he invited me in. Scared for what I may have done to him, I walked reluctantly into the room.

Dad looked like he had been staring into Dante's inferno forever with no hope of redemption. I knew how to bring him out, however. Dad lived for his children. We were his everything. That and the promise mum made to him they would be together again.

If I acted scared and vulnerable, dad would 'man up' and be strong for his little girl.

I let myself feel sad, tearful and sorrowful and looked shyly at him as if I'd done something wrong and was trying to win his approval again.

"I made some dinner, dad, your favourite, old English sausages with chips and eggs.

I watched him struggle back to himself and felt so guilty for what I'd done.

'Well done,' mum thought. 'Tonight is the night to push him, you agree?'

'How?'

'Kiss and stroke his jaw as I described earlier. Say what I suggested.'

I nodded to mum in my head.

Close to 11.00 pm that night, dad was sitting watching the sports news on Fox. Yawning and stretching, wearing nothing but a short nightie, I climbed into dad's lap, settled my wet and hot pussy on his groin then snuggled into his chest and jaw.

I smiled softly to myself as I felt dad's dick hardening under me. I wanted so badly to pull it out of his trousers and guide it into me, but I knew he would freak out if I tried.