Tragic Milestones in Life Revised

"Hey!" she tried to break free of his kisses and squealed as her cheeks clenched together in response.

Daddy held her firmly in his arms saying, "It's okay, darling. Remember how your finger did my walnut? Well, wait to you feel how nice getting massaged inside your rectum from both sides is going to be! Relax, this isn't going to hurt, sugar."

His soft crooning voice and her fatigue had worn her down. I felt her legs going limp as he raised his hips to lift her up off the bed just a bit. That spread her legs as far as they could go over his hips. It added the benefit of her being unable to tighten her buttocks as easily. It took a bit of doing, but I soon had enough lubricant transferred to her rectum to slide my fuck finger inside. She was tight, her butt responded by clenching, but I was inside!

Daddy's cock went to work, thrusting upward into her vagina as I stroked and pressed the thin anal membrane downward to meet her vaginal wall. She felt the pressure of my finger, in her core, gliding against Daddy's cock as it slides back and forth in her cunt. She came again. From her groans and final acceptance, I knew she would find this to be a frequent source of future pleasure.

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Our southern belle rolled off Daddy's chest and lay on her back—exhausted. Too exhausted to protest as Daddy lifted her legs onto his shoulders. I scooted around to her head, stretching out over her body again, planting my face over her muff. My knees were against her collarbone again. Her auto reflexes sent her tongue out to probe my lowered cunt, once more.

On autopilot—she was going through the motions now. Tired and having done the routine, she felt her butt being lifted a bit higher and Daddy's dick knocking at her slit. It was inside gathering lube, then out gliding up and down her slit. Back inside and back out again adding lubricant further down. I figured she was expecting his cock to glide back inside her pussy and his finger to enter her rectum as mine had.

Not this time, though.

Reaching down, I interlocked my fingers with her hands holding them against the bed. Still no immediate response, she was unaware of Daddy's impending move.

I watched Daddy's smile as he looked at me.

I felt my own butt tighten in anticipation. It was a memory muscle reaction. One of pleasure.

A flashback of exhilaration roared through me as I recalled my first time with Daddy. He'd tried to be gentle, but ended up just like today and every other day with all the girls and women he brought to the hotel rooms in which we lived. No matter how much lube you plied up someone's ass—it always rebelled in pain the first time. It was a virginal thing. Sometimes easy, some a little harder than others, but everyone took it from Daddy in the end. Some even got to like it, with some training—like me.

++++++

I helped Caroline into the shower. The three of us stood beneath the rain head. Daddy held Caroline as I scrubbed her, letting the soapy bubbles wash the stains, the sins, and the lingering day's lust down the drain. Daddy carried Caroline back to bed and stood holding her. Her arms remained wrapped around his neck, not with the gleam she had spread across her face the first time he walked in with her, though. He stood there while I stripped the sheets, spread new ones, and covered Caroline. She needed the rest, poor woman, she was thoroughly fucked.

Daddy and I stretched out on top of the blankets beside her as she slept. He spooned me.

"I love you, sugar."

"Asshole," I answered teasingly, "this was supposed to be just you and me, remember?"

"So, you didn't like your anniversary present, then?"

"I didn't say that! My new pet didn't even come with a last name!" I retorted facetiously.

"It sounds like you might want to keep this one?" Daddy remarked as he eased his cock into my ass and began to make love to me.

"Maybe."

"Daddy, about coming to see David ... how about next Saturday? It will give us the weekend together."

"Saturday, then. I'll fly down next Saturday and we will do something together, the three of us. I promise."

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Lying in bed, amidst silken sheets, I watched the thunderous dark clouds slowly crossing the sky as rain streaked down the window panes. I was visiting Alpharetta; home to the wealthy of Atlanta—in a manor estate, with Caroline lounging between my thighs. Caroline, it turned out, was among the wealthiest of the southern aristocracy dwelling in Alpharetta. Living alone, and seeking desperately to fine companionship and a soulmate among the influential.

Johnathon was at work. David was in school.

My phone rang, as I basked in the smooth tongue-in-slit treat that Caroline was providing. She cunningly created a euphemism for it; ice cream time.

I picked it up off of Caroline's nightstand. New York area code, I noted. Daddy was calling.

"Hello, asshole." I sighed.

"Hello, to you, too, Rachel, sugar," came a soft imitative southern drawl in response.

"You are coming, right?"

"Yes, I promised, remember. I always keep my promises."

I thought about Daddy's answer. It was true—always. That was one thing he was good at. Well two things—he could fuck really well, also.

"Okay, when?"

"Noon, Saturday. I'll see you about one o'clock, by the time I get out of the airport. What would David like to do?"

"He wants to go riding. He's never been on a horse. I booked some time for us at a riding stable. Dinner afterward at The Capital Grille. Its off of ..."

"I know the place," he cut in, seeming to be in a hurry.

'Of course you would know the place. You know all the good places!' I thought.

"Yes, I remember its lighting as being very dark, but great food. Be sure to bring a change of clothes for you and David. It has a dress code. No cowboy hats allowed."

"Johnathon?"

"He's being an asshole. More sullen and belligerent than last week when you came. Yesterday, he punched a hole in our bedroom wall.

"What!"

"Yeah, He came home with a bunch of sex toys. Wanted to tie me up and plug my holes with vibrators and ... nipple spikes. Said he would be easy on me while he fucked my mouth and get it ready for you."

"I put my foot to use, a soft spot you know, and ran downstairs. When he got up—that's when I heard him slam his fist into the wall. He hasn't come back home yet, Daddy."

The phone was silent. I thought we lost connection. Then I heard Daddy's voice again.

"I'm calling a friend," he said firmly.

"I don't need a friend, Daddy. Just something to ... keep him calmed down until I can figure out what to do."

As I hung up the phone and returned it to the nightstand, I saw Caroline's dropped jaw and look of abject anger.

"Rachel, why didn't you tell me!"

"It's not your concern, sugar. I don't want to get you involved. If Johnathon knew about you—well, he might think about ..."

I let the thought drop.

Putting Caroline on Johnathon's radar was not something she needed. She was subservient, willing to please, and seemingly looking for constant approval. So alone, she took any kind of attention she could get. She was the kind of woman Johnathon liked to ... molest, for the lack of a better term.

The day after last week's encounter with Daddy and her, I had considered feeding Caroline to my asshole husband as shark bait. The last few months had become increasingly troublesome. Particularly so when we went to bed. But after the hole in the wall incident, I pulled the plug on introducing the two of them.

"No one deserved Johnathon's level of treatment. I only trolled for his one night stands because of Daddy. I needed that night with him. It was the only night that brought back the joy and excitement of losing my innocence again.

Wrapping her arms around my waist, Caroline tugged me back into the middle of the bed. She spun around, kneeling with my head between her knees. With a wry grin, she said, "I know what will help your pissy mood, sugar."

She leaned forward, letting her arms curl under my legs and guided her fingers to spread my slit open. I raised my knees, spreading my thighs already anticipating the mood enlightenment she figured would help both of us.

I felt her knees slipping sideways, lowering her newly shaved cunt against my lips. A few gossamer strains slipped from her drooling slit. My tongue collected them. A wet mixture of tasty tartness and a smell of muskiness wafted over my face.

We gave each other some afternoon delight as the darkening clouds rumbled overhead. Caroline was a quick learner. Within a week's time she was well on her way to cunnilingus mastery.

It felt good, both times!

+++++

"I have to go."

"Too soon," she murmured as she stretched out next to me.

"It's still raining. I need the extra time to go pick up David from school then grab something for dinner on the way home."

Caroline's shower was spacious. There was plenty of room for two, but I was in a hurry and showered alone. But that didn't keep me from thinking about Daddy's hands and soapy waters.

When I came out to dress, Caroline stood by the bed holding two small boxes. She was anxious. It was evident she was holding the boxes for me to see.

"What's this?"

"For you. Just in case." The look on her cherubic face had grown solemn.

I opened the first box. It contained a double barreled, over and under, .22 caliber pearl handled derringer.

The second box held—long rifle shells for the lady's weapon.

It was my turn to look anxious. I had never fired or even held a gun before.

Caroline wore a look of confidence, as she gave me a quick demo of how to load and fire it.

"Get close.

"Point and shoot.

"If the mother-fucker doesn't back off after the first shot—or go down—use the second round. The bullets look small, but they tear a body up on the inside pretty good, sugar."

She saw the look of consternation in my eyes as I felt my eyebrows arch in amazement at the confidence in her words.

"Hell honey! Just point and fire over his damn shoulder, if you want. The sound of the first round will probably be just as effective at scaring the shit out of him. Just keep it pointed and use the second round if he doesn't high-tail it out of there. Remember, if you need to — dead center on his chest!"

Along with my phone, I slipped the lady's pocket pistol and box of shells into my clutch purse.

'Hope to hell it never comes to this!' I thought.

I gave Caroline a hug, now one of trusted friendship. I dashed out to the car and drove to David's school.

+++++

David's excitement was over the top all week long. He was going to go horseback riding. He was going to see Grandpa Radisson again. The biggest grin was reserved for expressing his joy at meeting his real father. That was all he could prattle on about the whole week.

It royally pissed Johnathon off!

I tried to placate him.

I gave him my cunt. I gave him my ass, this week, despite the pain he inflicted. I let him fuck me as long and, in any manner, he wanted, as long as David was asleep. I don't think it actually helped temper his ego, however.

But it certainly didn't satiate his bent sadomasochism. That was where I drew the line. If he even attempted to use those damn ropes and needles again ...

I had Caroline's derringer tucked inside my nightstand or my clutch purse. It was never out of my reach when Johnathon was home—or when we were out together with his business partners.

Ready. Aim. Fire! Caroline had said—dead center if he keeps coming!

+++++

Saturday, Daddy kept his word. David and I met him at the Atlanta Ritz-Carlton. He kept the same room, always.

At one o'clock, I walked into the suite expecting Daddy to arrive soon. David trailed alongside. It was pristine, again. There was no indication whatsoever that Daddy, Caroline, or I had ever spent time there together, fucking the night and early morning hours away.

David stood by the balcony windows staring out over the city in amazement. He glanced at the door occasionally, anxiously awaiting the moment it would open and bring his much anticipated Daddy.

"Look Mom, you can see for miles! It's like being in an airplane!"

"Really? You're right, baby. In ten years, I hadn't noticed that before."

I heard the door rattle.

"David!"

"Grandpa!"

David's face lit up. He flew into Grandpa's arms. Then, he looked past him into the empty hallway.

"Where's my Daddy?" The look on his face dimmed. No one was behind Grandpa.

I watched my Dad's face turn just as dim as David's. I waited to see how he was going to answer. I had waited, for seven years, for a singular answer of any kind.

"David, about that," he began, " your ... Daddy well, he's on another airplane. We'll talk about that at dinner, when he gets here. Patience. Besides, I think your Daddy is afraid of horses and that's where we are headed, right?"

"Yeah, Grandpa. We're going riding!" David's thoughts were exuberant over the divergent path my Daddy took.

"Chicken." I mouthed the word, as David hugged his grandaddy tightly.

I'd never known my father to be as embarrassed as he clearly is now. "After dinner, okay? No sense in killing the goose that laid the golden egg first thing, right?"

"What about eggs, Grandpa?"

"I was talking to your mother, David. Look! I brought these for you!"

"Look, Mommy! A cowboy hat! .... And a book! Look Mommy! It's a book about horses. Look at all the pictures! Golly, thanks Grandpa!"

David quickly put the hat on and bounded to the full-length mirror at the end of the bed. The one my Daddy posed me in front of as he took me from behind in our yearly reunions.

"I look like a real cowboy! All I need is a horse! And a gun, Grandpa! I need a pistol!"

Grandpa Radisson chuckled "Not sure a horse would fit in your backyard, David. But I'll see about a holster and pistol, okay?"

Daddy was busy giving me a hug as David bounced into the side chair and began flipping through the pages, perusing the pictures.

I lay my lips next to his ear. "You promised. I'm holding you to that before you leave, today."

"Always keep my promises, Rachel. You know that. Let's enjoy the day and at dinner I will honor my promise. I promise!"

I glanced over at David. He was absorbed in the book. My hand traced Daddy's cock and gripped it firmly. I felt his legs twitch. "Break your promise, Daddy, and I break this off, too!"

"Rachel!"

My kiss on his cheek gave me a quiet space to whisper into his ear again, "I mean it! Tell him before you leave today or no more 'frijoles' for you, Daddy! No, more, free, holes for you!"

He chuckled at my word play. Then moved to sit next to David.

"See this one David? It's called a filly. That's a girl horse. This one is called a colt. It's a boy horse."

"I can tell that Grandpa! I see his penis under there!" David pointed it out with pride.

"Did I ever tell you about your Mommy and I going bareback riding together?"

I watched as Rachel's head whipped up and her eyes shot daggers in my direction. We never actually went horseback riding, together. She saw a glint in my eye, as I smiled at David. It was time for a moment of payback for her threat, even in jest, to end our relationship.

"We went bareback riding David, often. Bareback is when you don't have ..."

"Daddy!"

"What?" I laughed. "It's true. Just a different kind of bareback riding is all, David. Someday, when your old enough, you'll be riding fillies bareback, too."

"Why can't I ride a filly bareback today, Grandpa?"

"Ask your Mother to explain that one to you, tomorrow, David. Right now, let's find this stable your mom spoke about."

+++++

I felt like a lady chauffeur! Daddy and David sat in the backseat, going through the horse book together. On-Star directed us north to the other end of Alpharetta, to a place Caroline recommended.

David's reading level was pretty good, but the vocabulary for this book required some help. I thought about my childhood days. Days when I would sit in Daddy's lap by the fireplace and he would read to me. Days that he would rock me in the old big rocking chair, until I fell asleep.

It was a warm pleasant time with him in those days. Even when I could read well, I sat in his lap and read for him as we cuddled together. His warm hands nestled across my lap as he patted and rubbed me, until I sighed and slumped into a sound sleep, enfolded in his arms. He still carried me to bed, even then.

Funny, now that I think about that, I don't ever remember sitting with Mom that way. Strange.

+++++

Rachel pulled into the parking lot. And before I could say wait, David was out the door, bubbling with excitement under that wide brimmed cowboy hat. The stable hands took him in like a stray puppy, posing for pictures, and acquainting him with a gentle mare. I watched David and Rachel. They seemed so carefree. The darkness that was brewing within Johnathon was submerged for the moment; as the excitement of riding swept thoughts of him out of Rachel's mind.

David and Rachel rode in a training corral for about a half-hour before the trainers were comfortable enough to let us cross over into a wide pasture. My horseback riding days covered several years of dude ranch work outside of Laraby, Texas as a youth. It felt good to get back in the saddle again. As we rode 'the range' as the guides called this place, I found myself thinking about riding bareback again. How to manage that ... would be problematic. Unless I could convince Rachel to stay over tonight. With David asleep we could ....

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By the time sunset came around, Carl Radisson, his daughter, Rachel, and David were headed back to the hotel to dress for an evening dinner out. David was still going strong.

Dressed, Rachel drove to The Capital Grille, in Buckhead, not far from the Governor's Mansion, for dinner. David wasn't really happy about leaving his cowboy hat in the car. Grandpa Radisson told him the restaurant didn't allow cowboy hats.

"McDonald's does Grandpa!" he shot back.

Carl and Rachel laughed at that seven-year-old's point of view.

"Time for dinner, buddy—not McDonald's—so no cowboy hat!" Grandpa chuckled. Rachel nodded in affirmation as David's sullen look took on that seven-year-old's pout.

Even at a fancy restaurant, a boy can still get a hamburger! David was happy with that concept, as Rachel dined on lobster, and Carl ordered T-bone. Wine for the T-bone and the chauffeur drank peach-infused iced tea; a wise drink for those who are driving.

Carl reached into the bag he carried inside the restaurant. Rachel wondered about it, but thought it might be something else her Daddy had for David. Something that might introduce his father to him. It wasn't. He placed a copy of Donald J. Mallord's book "Life Is Marked in Milestones" on the table.

"The ... lady, Kate or Caroline, right, the one I met on the plane had a copy of this book, honey. It seemed she enjoyed it, so I brought a copy for you, also." He casually mentioned that as he pointed out the contents. It dealt with people's perceptions of how their lives changed at various markers or milestones in their lives; things like deaths, births, surgeries, war, or violent events in a person's life.

Rachel's response turned taciturn. He barely remembered their tenth anniversary bed companion's name, just a week ago—just the damn book title she was reading! 'Still trying to weasel out of your promise, Daddy?' she was thinking.

Carl missed that look. He was busy, engrossed in watching the short-skirted cigarette girl making table rounds. The tray was strapped just high enough to carry a mound of tits along with assorted cigarettes and gum. Her body had that long drink of water look he was so fond of watching. Rachel's eyes followed his gaze and locked in on the cigarette girl, too. But for a different reason. Rachel was nervous, on edge.