The Grow House

I went to the police, asking for a search warrant to be served. That was when the desk officer said:

Police: "Oh, yes sir, I will hop right onto that. I take it YOUR grandfather had a city landmark named after him too?"

Years ago, I had read the book "Clout" about how things really got done in cities. To the authorities, I was just a little person, I guess. Well, I tried everything nice and legal. It was fourth down and I was going to punt.

That abandoned 'grow house' was now vacant, any evidence taken by the DA. I went there anyway. To my amazement, in the muck behind the building near the trash, I found that calling card with the hole in it that Heather mentioned. The number was still valid because it was a legitimate front for the gang. I called them, telling them about the 'grow house' (that they knew) but adding that that little bastard (Heather's ex-husband) was now safely hiding at the family compound. He was starting a new 'grow house' among the area's many vacant homes (I was guessing there...i.e. lying.) I told them that he DID order pizza every Monday night for the game like clockwork. He would be all alone in the house, his parents always playing bridge on Monday night. [Although I might have guessed what might ensue, I was by no means certain, so I could live with having done this.]

Don't get me wrong; I didn't enjoy this and dreaded the thought that an innocent driver would be harmed in any way. Still, it was essential that that rat be flushed out and my baby released. The fact that the 'heroes' of this tale would be rats themselves was only a footnote.

The final action of theirs was a lot cleverer than I anticipated. They put their girl at the pizza place, not working, but watching the game and eating. She sat close enough to hear all calls (they tested that.) She hit one text key on her phone when she heard THAT pizza order. The gang then delivered THEIR pizza in official company uniform (just a tunic and nametag) several minutes before the real place even got in their car.

Watching the ten o'clock local news, I can't say I was surprised to see what happened. The only surprise was fifteen...did they really need to use fifteen rounds? Well, that gang was very useful for this one event, but I dreaded ever seeing them again. I justified the whole thing in my mind because I asked them not 'to do him' and they assured me they wouldn't. Sure, sure...

The world is not TV, and police work is not like 'CSI'. The police considered this a straight gang-banger action and nothing more. I was completely out-of-the-loop and glad to be left out.

My prayers were fulfilled and Heather was released from jail. Better yet, they caught the 'lieutenant' of her ex-husband who cleared Heather of ANY wrong-doing. To avoid a false arrest lawsuit, my baby's record was expunged and $25,000 compensation allowed. It was a lot, but not nearly enough.

Arriving home with my rescued baby, we found a letter from the county addressed to her in her legal name, still bearing her husband's last name. It was an official exoneration. Another letter from her former parents-in-law was a check for $500,000 with a contract to sign. Basically, if she refused comment about the whole affair (and their son's nefarious deeds), she got the money. The contract said they could sue her if she later backed out and told tales. We couldn't sign that fast enough.

That night, I carried my exhausted baby into her room. Kneeling on the floor, I treasured her on that bed as if she were a museum exhibit (the Hope diamond?) When I rose and turned to leave her alone, she literally shook. I had no choice. I scooped her up, and carried her into my room. She immediately felt at ease, secure at last. I pulled up a chair, determined to 'stand guard' over her while she slept. So I did, but somehow I nodded off about three hours later. She noticed that when she got up to use the 'facility'. Somehow, she summoned the strength she had had from lifting weights so many years ago, and got me onto the bed where I could safely sleep.

Dawn broke and I was amazed to find myself in my own bed, my once-again gorgeous daughter lying on her side facing me, asleep. More amazing than the physical feat of putting me on the bed was her getting me to sleep, with my 'midnight wood' deeply inside her. Talk about feeling secure, she had closed up to me so tightly that she couldn't resist 'plugging me in' to her blessed vagina. I was asleep at the time, so it was a simple matter of putting hard cock into sopping pussy. She didn't want to awaken me, so she stopped the 'fun' before it began. She too fell asleep.

Now I was awake, feeling the presence of my wonderful, precious child. Feeling her warmth and softness, her silkiness so close to me, my 'morning wood' soon reached my ten inch maximum. I was rock hard and deep inside, which made the sparkling blue eyes of my daughter open finally. We kissed without making a sound. Finally, we were together after all of those months apart; all of that time where concern negated any romantic liaisons.

Asserting myself, I mounted my wonderful daughter, climbing between those incredibly shapely legs. She locked her ankles around me in a wonderful vise. I gripped her hard little jailbird behind and entered her more deeply than any man ever had or could.

Heather: "God, daddy, do it...please...so long I dreamed of this moment. So long I dreamed of being freed, with my hero--you daddy--as my lover! So long I wanted to have a family, but only with the perfect man. The man I could trust, who would never betray me, who only knew love when he saw me. YOU, you are the one, daddy. Please seed me like you seeded my two high school friends. I want to feel you pump all of that wonderful seed, your precious sperm, deep inside of me. I want to feel it fill my fertile womb with an ocean of life, the waves of excess cum dripping out my womanhood, leaving the bed a mess. Please daddy: Make me pregnant...I so much want to have YOUR baby..."

Those were the sweetest words I had ever heard. My oversized cockhead had hit the sensitive backwall of my baby's secret place. It was now lodged in her cervical zone; no force on earth could now stop me from transferring millions upon millions of my baby-making spermatozoa into her incredibly welcoming, totally unprotected, and unbelievably fertile womb. Normally, the level of love and passion does not dictate viability, but this time it did. Her precious ovum was inundated; awash in an ocean of eager sperm, fully five alighted upon that most valuable of objects. Then, later, as we slept until noon, the ovum attached itself to her wall. My golden child had conceived...she would give birth to all five healthy babies, all male, all of them mine.

With the money from the state and the parents, eager for discretionary silence on Heather's part, we knew when the getting was good. We sold my little cracker box house and business, and then moved east. $625,000 wasn't a king's ransom, but in Missouri where we ended up, it bought a nice little abandoned farm. Better yet, with her last name from her ex-husband, we could marry...and did. My gorgeous daughter and I lived on that little farm with the five boys and the later addition of three daughters. So, what had started with evil ended with good, from sorrow to joy: and justice was served.