The Sins of the Fathers Ch. 03

He couldn't be certain; but maybe that was good, because, the jury wouldn't be sure either. He was picturing himself walking around in the courtroom, just like this, in front of a display, craning his head saying, 'I can't quite tell what I am looking at, Can you?'

But just as he was cursing his luck, her dad asked, "Can you see okay?"

Without thinking, Jack blurted out, "No, I can't fucking see!"

Vlad, the other dad said, "Sorry, Chelsea. It's kind of hard to see what you're doing. I can see you down there. You're sitting on your dad's lap like you said. I can see that. But is he, you know, like you said he was? Naked?" My point exactly, Jack thought, there is a reasonable doubt as to just what is being shown.

There was a knock at the door of the room. Jack actually jumped. Only to realize it was on the tape.

In apparent response to the knock, Chelsea's dad took charge, "Hang on a second, I'm going to mute the speakers, don't leave." Then, he smiled, "Just watch and listen." Her father used the mouse to minimize the video interface. He knew that the other dad would still have a camera image of what was happening in the room and be able to hear everything. But, the video chat-screen disappeared from the monitor. He double-checked and, sure enough, the little red light indicating that the web cam was functioning was still on.

Chelsea quickly tugged her tube top back up to cover her breasts. She patted down the skirt to cover her dad's lap. Daddy didn't even put on his pants. He just moved the chair into the desk a little, so his bare legs were no longer showing.

"Yeah, what is it, Wendy?" the dad called out.

Jack heard the door open and a woman walked into the view of the camcorder. She was slightly built. She wasn't unattractive, but nowhere near as good looking as her daughter. Dressed in a pair of nice jeans and white blouse, she'd put her hair up into a bun and wearing a pair of glasses that, somehow, made her look 'mousy'. If anything, she was unremarkable. Merely a face in the crowd. Plain Jane!

Walking over, the woman set down a bottle of Corona on the edge of the desk. "I thought you might be thirsty."

"Thanks, honey," said the dad. "I was just about to send Chelsea to get me one of those."

"You want me to wash the sheets, today?"

"Nah. They're not dirty, yet," the dad assured her. "Maybe tomorrow."

The woman lingered for a moment, eyeing the girl critically. "Chels honey, you look kinda flushed. Are you running a fever?" She put her hand on Chelsea's forehead. It was nothing more than a mother's gesture of care.

"I'm fine, Mom. Daddy and I were being silly; and, he started tickling me right before you walked in. He made me blush."

Satisfied, the mom turned away, heading for the door. "Now, you two don't stay up too late playing on the computer. I know it's New Year's Eve, but don't keep Chelsea up till midnight just so you can kiss her under the mistletoe." She pointed up towards the ceiling.

Jack had to assume that there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging out of sight of the video camera. Well, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year from your Mom! That's pretty damn ironic considering what little Chels is sitting on.

The door closed just as Chelsea's dad turned the sound back on. He pulled her tube top up all the way over her head, tossing it on the bed. God, just look at those babies bounce!

Jack heard the other dad ask, "Who just brought you a beer?"

"My wife, Chelsea's mom."

"No way!"

"Oh yeah! Way!" Chelsea declared earnestly, before she could stop herself.

"Jesus, does she know about you guys?"

"No!" Chelsea's dad quickly interjected.

Chelsea just shrugged her shoulders. What that did to her breasts was a pleasure to watch. They lifted, bounced downward, then settled jiggling. God damned perfect!

"I can't believe that the whole time she was in the room, you just sat there on your dad's lap?"

In reaction, Chelsea simply nodded her head and smiled. Perfectly innocent, 'till she took a finger tip and traced the outline of a nipple. It whispered for a father's attention. Touch me! Please, touch me, Daddy!

"Now, let's do something about that skirt," her dad decided.

Jack could see a large pair of clumsy male hands fumbling with the small catch of the tartan skirt; then, with a whoosh, it disappeared in a jerky stop-motion blur to join the tube top on the wrinkled bed. Jack Grant could finally clearly see her belly button and lower at the roundness of her tummy, a prominent little mound. Make that very prominent.

"She is a fucking cutie!"

"No, wait a second, and I'll treat you to a better shot," Jack heard her dad direct. "Set the camera on the desk, Chelsea, and lean back for him."

Obedient teenage daughter that she was Chelsea did as she was told. The image, depicting where they were joined, blurred again as she leaned back onto her dad's tummy and chest. The diffused light played on her down there. Sensual. Disturbing. Illuminating, the image focused. Perfect and crystal clear, because they'd finally stopped moving for a sec.

And the picture was damning. Un-fucking believable!

"How's that?"

"No fucking way!" Vlad Dad swore in disbelief.

Jack's mouth went dry, he tried to whistle in appreciation but his mouth was too dry; he couldn't turn away from the picture. Dual pictures: one on the VCR recording; the other, the video chat screen on the computer monitor.

The image showed a very small bare pussy. The operative words were 'very small and bare'. And slowly pistoning in-and-out of it was a very large and very fat cock. You could see all the way from that perfect set of teenage breasts in her dad's hands to her small snatch impossibly stretched by a grown man's cock. It was even more obscene, because you knew it was her father's cock.

Jack ran the back of his hand across his forehead. The smoothness of her sex won't help the jury find forgiveness. And, the slow relentless pumping motion will linger in their minds all the way to judgment day.

Vlad Dad's spoke, his voice cracking from the sexual tension, "Is your dad big, Chels? Is he?"

She only managed to get out a breathy "Uh huh..." before he interrupted excitedly, "Are you small there, baby? Christ, I bet you're tiny and tight like my daughter must be!"

And my daughter! Jack smiled, He's into it alright. This is a little more than harmless role playing. Fuck, I am into it, too. Every man in the jury will be hard by now. And, that will be embarrassing in a jury box. They will want to punish someone for making it all too obvious that they can have bad thoughts, too.

Jack leaned forward, touching himself as her father lifted her hips up, letting himself slide out slowly. Jack watched, since he wasn't sure just how big her dad was, remembering Spencer's remark "unique." As her dad lifted her, perhaps eight inches up off him, Jack heard Vlad Dad grunt, "Fuck, Chelsea, just how big is he?"

Jack could see "daddy" from the video camera's angle, as well as the on-screen image. Both were now positively obscene. Her dad's cock looked to be just over nine inches and cut. He was thick, heavily veined, and heavy-looking. His cock had a damningly distinct bend or crook to the left side. Watching him pull out was like watching her small pussy be turned inside-out. She moaned as his truly huge cock head pulled out of her little pussy. You could hear a wet slapping noise as it fell against her thigh.

Vlad Dad grunted huskily, "That fucking thing was inside her when your wife was handing you the beer?"

"Yep."

"God, man, show me her face again!"

As the session continued, her dad pushed Chelsea up and stood, forcing her to her knees right in front of the web cam. He held her head by her pony-tail, turning her innocent face towards the camera so the other dad could get a good look at her face.

From the background, Jack heard the words "Jesus, she looks like a fucking child!" Jesus, so does Nikki! That's because she is a child, dumb ass!

"She's always been small for her age. I like that in a daughter."

"Open wide for Daddy, baby," were the next words out of the adult male's mouth. Obeying, little Chelsea closed her blue eyes, opening her mouth. Her dad stepped in, his heavy cock swinging back and forth. He lifted his hips, placing his cock against her lower lip, then, he took her face in his hands.

"Show him what a well-trained daughter can do, Chelsea," he grunted as he slowly fed his erection into that small mouth. Jack could swear he could see the shape of the guy's cock in her cheeks as it pushed deeper into her mouth and entered her throat. Jack actually saw Chelsea's throat bulge as her dad's cock slid down it.

Jacks hands were trembling as he hit the OFF button and the image faded from the screen, but not from his mind. He closed his eyes and still the image lingered.

How, in God's name, can she do that without dislocating her jaw?

Sighing deeply, he hit the intercom button. "Spence, you there? 'Cause you damn-well better be."

The answer was immediate. "I'm listening."

"First things first, are you alone?"

"Guaranteed, and the door's closed."

"Good, because we gotta talk. I'm telling you that every man on that jury is gonna want to see that man pay. I don't think that even I can watch this video in court without getting a hard-on. And, every person on the jury who feels that way is going to want a pound of flesh from this guy. We can't do it! I can't take this case. Damn it, Spencer, I'd literally have to argue to the jury sitting down. If I stood up, I'd have a hard-on. The DA will slaughter us."

"Jesus, Jack, listen to yourself," Spencer countered with the full force of his convictions. "You're telling me that he can't even get a couple of attorneys who'll fight for his rights, because we both fantasize about our own daughters when we watch that girl going down on him."

Jack simply apologized, "I'm sorry, Spence," and let the button go.

For a long while he just sat there feeling very lost, and uncertain if he was a good lawyer after all these years. Damn! At that particular moment, he wasn't at all sure he was even a good dad.

Frustrated, he glanced over at the bottle of bourbon giving it serious consideration. Decided against it, opting instead for another glass of water. The carafe was empty. Just my lucky day! Well, fuck this; it's my office. I'll drink the good stuff.

Striding over to an antique oak cabinet, he opened one of the lower doors to reveal a small icebox filled with chilled bottled water. Their firm's special reserve for "esteemed clients." He pulled out one of the ice-cold bottles, rubbed it against his face, and began pacing the room for a few minutes trying to clear his mind, but all he had were doubts. Finally, he hit the button on the intercom again and called Spencer.

When he answered, Jack asked, "You ever hear the saying 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions'? Call your guy and give him my number. But no promises, okay?"

All he heard was, "Thanks, Jack."

"Don't thank me yet, Spencer. There's a condition. You're going to co-counsel on this one. He was your client. If we're going to risk ruining this firm, then you're going to be sitting beside me all the way. Understood?"

There was a pause then, "Understood."

"And Spencer, you're gonna give Jennifer a call. I think we're going to need her."

"Jack, you haven't talked with her in what ... over a year, maybe almost two years? What does she have to do with this?" Spencer asked. Do we really need to bring her back into our lives? Shit!

"The daughter, Chelsea, is going to need representation as well. And if we take the dad's case, we cannot represent her, too much of a chance of conflict of interest. She needs an attorney of her own."

"Okay, I see that. But of all people, why Jenn?"

"She's the best Child Advocacy lawyer in town, and she deals with abuse cases. Additionally, her doctor friend is the best medical and psychological expert in Oregon on spouse and child sexual abuse. I'm pretty sure the daughter couldn't have better advocates."

"Shouldn't you call her? After all, she's your ex-wife." There was a long silence. "Jack, are you still there?"

"Spencer, Jenn's not as mad at you as she is at me!"

The line went dead.

Taking the top off the chilled bottle of fresh water, Jack Grant took a long swig and reached for the PLAY button.

"Camera. Look at the camera, Chels, for the nice man, baby!" That's fucking impossible with a girl her size!

Jack shook his head trying to clear the image; Chelsea's dad was either huge or the optical illusion was perfect. As he watched, 'daddy' turned her sideways to the camera for a profile as he brought a very large cock to her lips. She started to say something. All that came out was a muffled, "Daaadppph ..." as he fed her a good six inches of very thick dick, clearly leaving three or four more inches to go. On computer screen, you could see the detail of the cock entering a very small mouth. But you couldn't tell who Chelsea and her dad were. So, whoever is on the other end of the video conversation probably doesn't know who they were talking to. They couldn't identify to a certainty the dad and daughter having sex. Not to a legal certainty!

The stand-back video was another thing entirely.

On the VCR recording of the video chat session, anyone watching, including members of a jury, would see a father take his daughter's head by her ponytails, and, in front of a total stranger, over the internet, feed her a good eight or nine inches of man meat. Someone who still looks a lot like a child is kneeling at her dad's feet in nothing but her socks and sneakers as he begins to face-fuck her. Jesus, that's a hard image to shake.

"I'm cumming so hard watching you give your dad head, Chelsea!" the other guy was almost shouting into his mike.

Daddy wasn't listening any more as he grabbed a ponytail in each hand and tugged, "Let's show the nice man what a good daddy's girl you are, baby." He pulled her to him by her hair, her little fists beating against his legs, as he fed her the whole thing to the root. You could see her small throat bulge obscenely. You could actually see her dad's nuts lift up and pull themselves tight in against the sides of the man's cock meat.

Christ, you can even see them quivering with each pulse as they lift rhythmically.

Jack knew what he was seeing, as the man came in his daughter's throat. He thought her jaw would dislocate. Jack could see her trying to swallow: but, that must have just felt even better because her dad stepped in closer, whispering obscenely, "Oh yeah, just like that, Chels, just like that," adding the rest of his shaft to her mouth. She gagged.

Her dad pulled back 'till the whole thing came out, his shaft was still firing off shots. Then, while Jack watched, he held her head in one hand as he moved his hips forward, fucking into her mouth and throat all the way to the base of his cock again. Again, her small fists beat against his thighs in protest. Jack could see his balls lift up and the shaft pulsing as he came.

Penetration. Ejaculation, Jack shuddered. He didn't need to look up the law. 'Sexual intercourse' in Oregon is 'penetration', no matter how slight. With 'Daddy's' cock in her throat, with his balls resting comfortably against her chin, the 'penetration' is not even arguably 'slight.'

The balls lifting as they fire off load after load of seed is just 'cream'!

Jack Grant's head hurt. He switched the VCR off. He was exhausted. Well, Chelsea's Dad, whoever you are, you are so fucked!

He hit the intercom to Spence, cleared his throat, and confessed, "I just don't know, Spencer."

"I take it that you must have just finished the grand finale."

"Yeah! So, you really did watch it all?" he grilled Spencer.

"Yes, I did. I had to. It's my job. It's our job!" The answer was cold, curt, and dry. It was also transparently defensive.

Jack let go of the intercom button and silence filled the darkened office, like an accusation. It's our job!

Finally, Jack keyed the button one last time. "Spence, I'll call Jenn." I'd rather drink Drano.

He had to look up her number; he'd never put it in his phone. "Jennifer Grant, please. Tell her it's Jack."

There was the shortest of pauses as he was transferred. "Hi, Jack. Long time since you called."

"Jennifer, yeah I know, it's been a while. Hey, actually I'm calling in an official capacity. We're considering taking a case. A child abuse case defending the father. He has a teenage daughter. I think she would need separate representation. Would you take a look at it and see if you are interested?"

"I'll take a look at it, Jack. We're interested."

"You are, just like that."

"You surprised?"

"Nope, not surprised at all. I'll have Mary drive a copy over."

There was an awkward pause. "How's Nikki?"

"She's fine. Growing up too fast, and she asks about you a lot. Soon, it might be time for you to have her out to your place for a talk." It may be past time!

"That's right, this is her first summer after the Academy. Yeah, you might be right. At this point, she's probably old enough to understand. She must be getting to be a handful there, Jack."

Cringing, Jack could only think, Almost two handfuls. Jesus, or is it two almost handfuls. You'll never know!. "How's Dr. Sam?"

"We're doing well."

"You may want her to look at these materials, too."

"Really? What have you two gotten yourself into this time? Is this your case?"

"Sort of. Spencer took on the case; but, then, he decided to ask me to represent the client instead. It's definitely one of those weird Spencer cases."

Jenn laughed. It was a genuine laugh from years of having been around Spencer and his pet causes.

"Oh, I remember them vividly. Spencer's gung-ho cry of 'I can make law with this case, and it's really interesting and kinky'!"

"Yep, one of those. Just give us a call after you review the materials, okay?"

"I'll call you back to confirm before the end of the day. Thanks for thinking of me, Jack." The phone went quiet. Jack sighed.

Spencer knocked, entering Jack's office. "Did she take it?" Jack Grant didn't get up.

"She's going to review the material, but 'Yes' I'm positive she'll take it."

Spencer glanced out of Jack's window to the small Japanese garden beyond. "The three of us together again in court. Jesus, I never thought I'd live to see the day. How about we get some coffee? I'll even buy, if we can go down to The Scow. I skipped breakfast this morning and, now, I'm starving."

Jack cocked an eyebrow at Spencer, frowning, and shook his head. "I really don't think I should leave this office for a few minutes." Or, as long as it takes for the fucking erection to go down.

Spence grinned. "Something about the video?" So, you are not immune to all temptations, are you? I wonder what exactly you thought about as you watched it?

Jack stood up, so Spencer would understand. Yeah, something about the video, asshole!

Jack looked down at his trousers. Will this thing go down before I get home. Nikki and this erection in the same house? Nope! Not going there! Not now. Not ever! Never again!

His partner burst out laughing. "Whoa! Too Much Information! Yeah, I gotta agree; definitely no need to subject Mary to that particular image." Especially after she brought you the extra paper napkins!