The Swim Team Ch. 09

I stepped up to the door and eased it open. This was the room to which I brought Brenda home from the hospital when she was a newborn. Even though we kept her bassinet in our room for the first couple of months, we changed her in here, dressed her in here, and watched her play in here.

Now, as I peered into the room, I saw my little girl playing an entirely different game.

Brenda was on her knees on her bed. My stomach sank as I took in her naked form, her beautiful full breasts swaying below her, the curve of her back into her strong buttocks, her firm muscular thighs supporting her body as her face, that face I've kissed so many times, the face I've dry tears, bandaged cuts, and even washed clean, the face that has smiled at me in wonder, gawked at me in pride, and scowled at me in anger, that face was buried in the pubes of Ivory Johnson and she was busy feasting for all she was worth. Ivory's juices made Brenda's cheeks shine as she drank from Ivory's honey pot.

Brenda's ass rippled under the impacts of some guy's hips as he was driving his cock into my little girl over and over. He held her waist for leverage as he fucked my daughter. Her breasts swung in time with his thrusts. He reached forward and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her face from Ivory, her mouth and chin dripping with juice, and she gasped in pleasure as she rose and turned her face to kiss him. Between her breasts, a red heart dangled on a chain.

A flash of light caught my eye and drew my gaze to her broad, brown nipples. My eyes bulged as I took in her areola, each of which had to be almost three inches across capped with a prominent nipple pierced with a silver barbell. I couldn't pull my eyes away from her tits as he mauled them all the while never missing a stroke.

Brenda keened as her chest flushed. Her nipples enlarged and the wet smacking sounds of their coupling amplified. "God! Yes! Right there. Harder!" She opened her eyes and fixed on Ivory, still splayed out in front of her. There was a hunger in her eye that I hadn't seen in six years. A hunger that can only be sated by raw passion, and it didn't matter from whom that passion flowed. Carrie had given me that look enough times, and I swear I could see my wife in Brenda's face as she licked her lips and trembled. My little girl was cumming. "Fuck!"

And, God help me, my cock lurched.

Ivory had replaced Brenda's tongue with three of her own fingers from each hand and was busy trying to stuff as many of them into her pussy as she could, determined to cum again at the same time as Brenda.

The guy grunted and slowed his stroke, reaching down to grab his cock before pulling back. Brenda spun around and knelt before him to jack his dick and drink his cum, her ass high in the air atop her reddened thighs, and I caught sight of the purple jeweled butt plug nestled between her ass cheeks. Her pussy was engorged, shiny, and gaping open revealing the bright red flesh within. Her still throbbing clit bore a small silver hoop through its hood.

She drank his cum like a woman possessed, as though it were the sweetest nectar, the most potent drug, or the last drop of water in the desert.

"Damn, girl," the guy said. He was young, probably not much older than she was, and probably on the swim team, too. "You sure know how to make a guy feel good."

"Not just guys," Ivory said grinning while she casually stroked the landing strip of hair on her pussy. "So, Brenda, not that I'm complaining or anything. But why have you never hosted a party here before?"

"Hey," Brenda said, "It's my birthday. I'm finally eighteen. I get to do what I want," she said with a satisfied smile on her face. "At least until my dad gets home." She slid to the edge of the bed and turned toward the door, where I stood. Her eyes widened when she saw me, and the color drained from her face.

"D-Daddy? What are you doing here?"

My brain couldn't formulate words. I was still trying and failing to process what I had just seen. It didn't help that she was standing naked before me, a smear of cum still clinging to her lip, while I stood naked before her, my dick still at half-mast and covered with the cum of her teammates. The only thing I could say was what I always said to that question. "I live here."

#

Carrie's funeral almost killed me. A cool breeze brought a shiver on that late summer day, even though the sun shone high in the sky, the wind blew in gentle wafts that rustled the leaves on the trees, and flowers were still in bloom. All that didn't matter. My heart was a cold, wet, miserable place. I wouldn't have known the difference if the weather had mirrored my mood.

We stood on a hill under a maple tree. This was her parent's family plot. We each had purchased plots side-by-side, thinking we would spend eternity together like we had spent our lives together. Now, she was the first one in the ground. Her parents were standing next to me dabbing their eyes. Their plots were one row up, the ground still undisturbed.

Brenda stood in front of me, my hands on her shoulders. At twelve, she had not yet had her final growth spurt, nor developed her womanly attributes, and was still my little girl dressed in a simple black dress. The Mitchell's stood on my other side. No one said a word as the Minister recited his message and committed her to the ground. I wasn't listening. I had a void in my soul that nothing could fill. I was certain that the rest of my life was going to be a meaningless string of joyless days. It took every fiber of my being not to turn into a blubbering idiot. But I couldn't let myself do that. Brenda needed me. I would be there for her.

As people filed out of the cemetery, I knelt before Brenda and hugged her. Tears pooled in her eyes, but she kept her lips stiff and refused to sob. "Brenda, honey, it's okay to be sad." She just flicked her eyes up at mine, then back to the ground into which her mother's casket had just been lowered. "Sweetie, did you hear me?"

She nodded.

"You know I'll always be here for you, right?"

"Mom said that, too." She didn't say it with any sarcasm nor malice. She just stated a fact, punctuated with a sniffle. One simple fact that underscored the powerlessness I felt in a large wide sharpie stroke.

After the funeral, I went back to work. Brenda went back to school in the fall. She spent a lot of time at the Mitchell's while I worked until school started. I had to go through the records for the insurance, and the bank accounts, and the court filings. The death certificate had to go to too many places, the insurance needed too many repetitive forms, and I received too many phone calls from people wanting money. I was barely holding it together. I would see her picture and a rage would engulf me. I would see her makeup in the bathroom and desolation would swallow me. I enter the closet to get dressed and see her clothes hanging there as they always had, and despair would consume me.

It took every ounce of strength to make myself get out of bed and function, and it exhausted me. After I woke up with a throbbing head and clutching an empty bottle I knew something had to give. I gathered all the records, papers, documents, and such and put it in boxes. I didn't even look at them before stuffing them in the boxes and shoving the boxes into the spare room. I couldn't bear to look at them.

I followed that with Carrie's clothes. Then her knickknacks. Then most of the pictures. Anything that reminded me of her. I simply stuffed them into that room. The room that was supposed to be our second child's bedroom. The child that now would never be born.

Kelly and Dennis came over a lot, and I was not hospitable, despite their repeated attempts. I rejected their offers of help. I turned down invitations to go out. I refused offers of vacations. I was an ass. Being around them reminded me of all the times with Carrie.

I did a good job of walling myself off from the world. I never opened the spare room door again.

#

"Get dressed and get them out of here, please." I didn't wait for Brenda to respond. I turned and walked into my room where Kelly and Austin were still on the bed. They noticed my mood and separated.

"Barry," Kelly said, "What's wrong?"

I tossed the ice pack and towel on the bed. "This is for your butt," I said to Austin, but I didn't look at her. "But I think I'd like everyone to leave now."

"What happened?"

I grabbed my shorts and a muscle shirt and dressed quickly, not bothering with underwear. "Just go, please."

Kelly was not satisfied. "Barry? What happened..." she stopped talking when the sound of people from the living room grew loud. "What's all that?"

A fire flared behind my eyes, and a snarl curled my lips. I turned and strode down the hall prepared to grab people by the short hairs and toss them into the yard, dressed or not. I couldn't articulate the source of my anger, but it surged. Kelly followed behind me while Austin wriggled into her boy shorts.

Several people were already on their way out the open front door. Brenda stood there in a swimsuit cover up, her face full of apology as her teammates filed past her in various stages of dress. Several muttered "Happy Birthday" on their way out.

I looked into the living room and Diane was fastening her skirt. Dennis sat on the couch in his pants and unbuttoned shirt running his hands through his hair. He seemed to go out of his way to avoid looking at Brenda in her cover up, especially since, with the door open and the light shining through, her full figure was on display through the sheer fabric. Austin stood in the entry to the hall trying her best to look small. Her straight arms crossed in front of her, her face down. She looked like a child waiting for her parents to begin yelling. I had no idea where Kelly went.

They all looked at me as though waiting for a volcano to erupt.

"I'm sorry," I said, though I didn't feel it. "I need to sort this out with Brenda right now. Please give me the space and time to do that."

"Barry," Dennis stood up and began to button his shirt, "don't blame Brenda..."

"Dennis, stop. I'm not blaming anyone for anything. I was here, too. But I need to talk to my daughter about this, and I'd rather do it just the two of us." I walked toward Austin and put my hand on her shoulder. "I'll talk to you later." I turned back to the room. "I'll talk to you all later."

I walked past Austin into my room, where I turned and waited for Brenda to follow me. She slunk into the room and stood next to my chair as I closed the door. I didn't know if anyone was leaving or not, but I couldn't be bothered to think about that now.

I gestured for her to take the seat while I sat on the mussed bed. I could still smell Kelly and Austin in the room, but that was preferable to smelling Brenda's sex in her room, or the residue of all those naked people having sex in the living room.

"First of all, Happy Birthday, sweetie."

She blinked hard clearly not expecting that. "Uhm...thanks?"

"No, I mean it. This is your birthday. Your eighteenth birthday. This is a milestone that should be commemorated. It means something."

"Does it?" She eyed me warily, not entirely believing me. "Does it really?"

"You're talking about our argument last night?"

She nodded.

"You snuck out before I calmed down enough to apologize for some of the things I said." I waited for her sarcastic comeback, but she just lowered her eyes. "I was trying to talk to you about," I gestured to the hallway, "this very kind of thing, and you bit my head off. I reacted poorly."

"But..." she struggled with her words, as if not knowing the best way to express herself. "I...I mean, how am I supposed to...."

"How are you supposed to talk to your dad about sex?"

Her head dipped in the barest of nods. "I know it isn't easy, Brenda. Believe me when I say this is difficult for me, too. I never talked with my folks about sex, other than the simple birds and bees talk when I was a kid. I got the feeling my dad assumed I was getting laid and was proud of it. He never asked me about girls or anything, though. I figure my ma thought I was a virgin until the day she passed away.

"I was too embarrassed to bring it up to my dad. I had to figure things out as I went. It didn't help that I was a shy nerd." I laughed and she smiled. "You don't suffer from that malady."

"Actually, I am a nerd," she said.

"Well, then, nerd must mean something different from when I grew up. Back in my day, nobody wanted to see a nerd naked."

"Well," Brenda wrestled with her words, "Uhm, in case you didn't notice, all my friends wanted to see you naked." She blushed as a grin spread across her face. "And now they have."

"That's certainly true." I felt my face flush. In the moment, I never contemplated that all these hot girls actually wanted me. But evidently they did. "Now, at the risk of sounding too parental, why aren't the lot of you in school?"

Brenda's smile dropped and she looked at the ceiling behind me. "Uhm..."

I waited for what seemed like an hour as she looked around the room. "Well?"

"The team wanted to celebrate my birthday, and, uh, well..."

"Hold it before you hurt yourself thinking up an excuse. I know about the 'club,'" I pointed at her heart pendant, "and I know it has a lot to do with sex."

Her hand jerked to her pendant still resting on the swell of her breasts, her cleavage showcased by her cover up. I couldn't help noticing the sheer fabric highlighting the shape of the barbells in her nipples. "Well, I, uh..." Her eyes finally found mine again. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Brenda, I want to understand you. I thought we had honest communication between us. But now I see there is a whole side of you that I don't know and that scares me." She looked like she was waiting for me to continue. "Obviously, you're not a virgin. And obviously you're not a, how did Speedo boy put it, a Dyke? So, just tell me what all this means. And start at the beginning."

My daughter sighed. "Will you hate me?"

"I could never hate you, sweetheart. Never in a million years."

And she told me. She gave me the details of how Tony Scarpetti took her virginity in the back of his Forerunner her sophomore year. She told me about how she met Austin her freshman year on the Swim Team, and how Austin showed her the more risqué techniques of sapphic love, including multiple partners. She told me about the swinger lifestyle, which is what the jeweled hearts represent.

"Austin told me that any swinger wears them to events to show that they are in the lifestyle to other members who might want to play."

"Hers is different, though," I said. "She wears hers on a collar."

"She's a sub. The collar represents ownership or control. She wears it when she's with Coach West."

I felt my eyebrows pop. That filled in another puzzle piece. "So, Diane is a Dom, and Austin is her pet."

"Right. So, you do know something about it."

I chuckled. "I'm not completely clueless about sex in the new millennium, dear. Besides, people have been playing like this for centuries. But evidently, Diane is not all Dom. Kelly had her submissive."

"Linda's mom?" Austin blinked and couldn't have looked any more surprised if I had said she had three breasts. "She's a Dom? Wait. How would you know that? When did that happen?"

"Well, she was in my room this morning. With Austin and me. When the party started. I don't know if she goes for the label, but she sure put Diane in her place for her affair with Dennis."

"Coach West was fucking Linda's dad?" That blackness came back to her eye for a moment. "That bitch!"

"Brenda!" I admonished.

"I'm sorry, but I can't believe she did that. Is that why she was here this morning?"

"Well, from what I know of Dennis, it wasn't as though she sought him out. But that's another talk. Let's talk about why all your friends came into our home when they should be in school."

"After the meet, we were all planning on partying to celebrate the first win, but then, you know, things got weird. Between us, I mean. And with Linda."

"I remember."

"So, this morning before first period, Ivory said we should have the party today, since it was my birthday and all. And I was still a little mad at you. And...well, I said okay."

It took a lot of effort to keep my face neutral. I was seriously disappointed that she broke one of the few rules I have in the house, but I didn't want to shut her down when she was finally opening up to me.

"She spread the word to the others on the team, and well, here we are."

"I see." I got up off the bed and walked to the window, glancing out to the pool. Watching the sunlight glinting off the water took me back to simpler times. Like a month ago. Before all this started and Brenda showed me she was a woman, in every sense of the word. My emotions welled up like a river after a flood threatening to burst the dam.

"You have grown up. You're not my little girl anymore," my voice trembled. "I can't protect you. I haven't protected you like I should. I'm such a failure."

"Daddy, no!" Brenda ran over to me wrapping her arms around my waist from behind. I could feel her tears on my back as she pressed herself to me. "You haven't failed me at all. You've always been there for me when I needed you."

"But you couldn't trust me with all this..." I turned around and she melted into my arms.

"I thought you'd hate me if you knew. That you would think me a freak or something."

I felt a surge in my eye and a pull on my heart. "I could never hate you. You're my daughter. I love you more than anything. You're the last thing I have of your mother. God!" I blinked my tears back. "You are so much like her. You have her eyes. Her beauty. Her spirit. When I look at you, I can see her."

Brenda sniffled and then laughed. "Except my boobs," she said trying to lighten the mood. "In pictures, Mom's are smaller."

"Well, you got those from my mom. You're welcome." We laughed together as we held each other. My mother passed before I met Carrie, so neither she nor Brenda had ever seen how well-endowed she had been.

We returned to sitting on the bed where she filled me in on her sexual journey for the next several minutes, and I had to force myself to not get an erection. Several hours of naked hotties, and blow jobs, and sex and I had not cum left me with a bit of a buildup of pressure. I had to keep my legs crossed while sitting next to her on the bed to hide any telltale bulge that might pop up. She was telling me explicit details while wearing nothing but a slinky, sheer cover over her naked body, which only made her more tantalizing. I would never make a move on her. But any human male would have to react to such a gorgeous woman talking about her sex life.

"So, I have a question." I interrupted at a lull in her story. " Are you bisexual, or what?"

She couldn't have rolled her eyes anymore if they were able to leave her skull and fly through the air around her head. "No, Daddy. I'm not gay or lesbian or whatever label they put on it these days. If I had to wear a label, I guess it would be pansexual. I just love the feeling of getting and giving pleasure to someone I care about. The anatomy doesn't matter. The person does."

My brain didn't want to process what I was hearing. I'd never experienced such a carefree attitude about sex. Well, not that I was aware of, since evidently Carry had such an attitude before I met her. Brenda was so nonchalant. Sex was just fun. It was just pleasure. It seemed to hold no more special significance. It might as well have been a handshake. Granted, a very pleasurable handshake, but still. My parents would never have accepted such a cavalier attitude from me about it. I, however, couldn't fault Brenda for her attitude, could I? Hadn't I been avoiding relationships myself all this time? How could I expect Brenda to do any different? Of course, I never considered sex with another guy. Brenda not only considers it, she acts on it. "But do you have a preference?"