Chapter 9
When I woke up the next morning I gave up playing sick. My intimate confrontation with my mother made me realize how important it was to get her back together again with Dad. Whatever their differences, it was painfully obvious that she depended on his love.
Unless they were reconciled I sickeningly envisioned a future of her going from man to man. I was determined to keep that from happening. I was willing to do anything to keep the family together so we could all share each other's love instead of squandering it with strangers.
I needed a clean bill of health because my new plan of attack involved being well enough to go to school. That is, appearing to go to school. I had a bit of creative hooky in mind, but first I had to check things out with Ginny and Billy.
Both of them sadly agreed with each other that there was no hope. Ginny said that Mom seemed to be so sad she didn't know how to approach her. Billy couldn't talk to Dad because nobody had seen him since he'd moved out of the house.
After weighing their pessimism I made my decision that I would have to go for broke on my own.
"Tina," Ginny asked, "is there anything wrong?
You look so serious ... so ... so grim."
"I'm going to go see him," I said evenly.
"Who?" they both asked in unison.
"Dad."
"How do you know where he is?" Billy wanted to know.
"Mom has his number," I explained. "I saw it on a pad and called it. The clerk at the Midtown Motor Inn answered. When I asked him which room Ed Murray was in he told me 314."
"When are you going?" Ginny asked, wide-eyed at my boldness.
"Today. I'm cutting class."
"I'll go with you," Ginny said firmly. "I can't let you go through all that alone."
"No," I said steadfastly. "It's something I've got to do alone."
The next morning I walked down the street with Ginny and Billy and then veered off toward the left while they continued toward school wishing me good luck. On the bus toward the middle of town, I kept my fingers crossed, my heart pounding.
At the Midtown Motor.Inn, I took the elevator up to the third floor and went to my father's room. However, a knock on the door brought no response.
Then it hit me. Sadly I realized that in the process of formulating my plan I'd forgotten that Dad would be at work if I tried to see him during the day.
Unwilling to admit defeat, I decided to go inside anyway and wait for him. Recalling a trick I'd seen on television cop shows, I got my plastic library card out of my purse and used it to jimmy the lock.
I closed the door behind me and looked around. It was a cheerless place, looking just like the interior of every motel room we had ever stayed in on a family vacation.
The only immediate signs of Dad were some dirty clothes scattered around the floor and a half a bottle of whiskey on the end table by the couch. I had visions of my father drinking himself to sleep every night since he'd left home, using whiskey to blot out his loneliness.
But when I sat down on the couch my vision of my lonely father started to change. There were little things I noticed at first. And then, gradually, they developed into overwhelming evidence that my father was actually enjoying the life of a foot-loose bachelor.
First, there were the two glasses by. the whiskey bottle. Obviously Dad didn't need one for each hand. He'd been drinking with somebody.
Then there were the cigarette butts crumpled in the ashtray. At least half of them were smeared with lipstick.
I noticed something stuffed between the cushions of the couch. When I reached over and picked it up I could feel that it was soft and flimsy. Drawing the object to my face I saw to my horror that it was a pair of woman's panties.
Their crotch was stiff, encrusted with the residue of a thick pussy flow. The woman who'd been wearing these had been thoroughly turned on just before she'd removed them.
I'd been around enough to know that a woman doesn't take off a pair of panties her pussy has made wet except for one reason: to fuck!
A woman had been on this couch and had pulled off her wet panties and stripped to fuck my father!
With horror I looked down at the couch. Telltale stains darkened the fabric now that I knew to look for them. They had fucked right where I was sitting.
Now I looked back at the panties again.
Stretching them out I saw there was something written on them. A name. The woman's name. The woman who probably just hours before had had my father's cock jammed up her pussy.
"Lenore," I read the name aloud.
Staggered by a wave of depression, I let the panties drop to the floor like a fluttering parachute. I couldn't stand it anymore. All I wanted to do was forget.
Impulsively, I grabbed for the whiskey bottle. Unscrewing the cap, I threw the neck to my mouth and drew a long swig of my first drink of alcohol.
It was like swallowing fire. The raw taste gagged me and made my eyes water. My stomach churned in protest. I was sure I'd made a mistake and had poisoned myself.
But then the torture subsided. All of a sudden I felt good. Unbelievably good.
I looked at the bottle. "One hundred proof," I read aloud from the label. I wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but I knew the stuff in the bottle was strong enough to make me drunk with my first swallow. More drinking might make me forget altogether how unhappy I felt.
The more I drank, the easier the whiskey went down. Before I knew it I was looking at the bottom of the bottle and roaring drunk.
When I tried to stand up, I fell on my face. Rcking myself up, I staggered toward the bed,-suddenly consumed by dizziness. Nauseous, I knew I had to lie down or Fd vomit.
In a race between my stomach and my feet, I reached the bed before my breakfast came up. Burying my head in the pillow, I closed my eyes and held my breath, fighting to keep a hold on my equilibrium.
At last the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach subsided and I was left with just the throbbing dizziness. Riding its rolling waves, I let it lull me to sleep, feeling I was rocking in a cradle like a helpless infant.
My dreams were steamy and detailed. The bodies I envisioned weren't anonymous like the other erotic dreams I'd had. They belonged to specific people. Mostly, they were members of my own family.
I went through a number of troubled scenes, but none so mind-boggling as my final dream..My Dad was stark naked, going down between the spread legs of a naked woman whose face he covered with his flailing body while he fucked her.
I could envision his prick in her cunt. I could hardly see anything of her pussy because it was so engorged with his thick meat.
He was in her to the hilt. His pubic hair spread all over her crotch while his balls squashed fatly against her thrusting groin. She could have been anybody, yet, still, something told me that I knew her.
Dad was snorting like a bull, obviously trying to tear her apart. But I could tell she loved it. Nobody could wiggle her ass like that unless she was entranced by what was happening inside her cunt.
Then, without warning, the door flew open.
Standing there, with her face a purple mask of rage, was my mother. "So I've caught you at last,"
she hissed, livid with anger.
Without missing a stroke, Dad looked over his shoulder at Mom. "How do you like it?" he snarled bitterly. "How do you like walking in on me like I walked in on you?"
"I can't believe you would do this to me," she sobbed, the anger dissolving into weeping anguish. "I can't believe you'd be willing to stoop this low just to get^ven."
"Just watch me," he replied cuttingly, turning all of his attention to the bucking, nude woman beneath him.
"But why her?" Mom wailed, aware of the identity of the girl Dad was fucking while I still was not, even though it was my dream.
"You'd think I was exaggerating if I told you how tight her cunt is," Dad said triumphantly, driving his cock to the depths of the girl's grinding pussy.
"Tighter than mine?" Mom cried, heedlessly opening the door to further humiliation from her husband of almost twenty years.
"On your best day, bitch," Dad answered savagely. "Next to this tight little pussy, you've got a manhole between your legs. Fucking you is like making love to a sewer pipe."
That did it. Mom's face crumbled like it was made of clay and somebody had just thrown a rock right in the middle of it. Suddenly she was nothing-a defeated, empty shell of her former self.
Dad had taken everything out of her with his , powerful, demeaning insults.
"Where're you going, bitch?" Dad asked as Mom shuffled away like an old woman, his huge dick squishing inside the girl's foaming cunt.
There was no reply.
Then from the other room there was the sound of a drawer opening. Then a click like something was being cocked.
After a pause of several seconds there was a terrible explosion.
Something crashed to the floor. It was a body. Mom had shot herself.
But Dad didn?t care. In fact, he laughed.
So did the naked girl beneath him whom he was fucking so hard. Her laughter was louder than his. There was something very familiar about it. I was sure I had heard it before. Many times.
"Stop laughing so much," Dad giggled like a kid. "You're pushing my cock out of your pussy."
"Don't worry," the unseen girl laughed in a startlingly familiar voice, "my pussy's tight enough to hold you no matter what you do."
The girl continued laughing, her pleasure increasing with each thrust of Dad's cock until she was shrieking. As though she were being tickled instead of fucked, she tossed her naked body from side to side, whipsawing my father's cock within her tight vaginal walls.
In the gyrating movement, her head bobbed from behind my father's previously concealing body. Her face was a blur at first, jerking wildly from fucking and laughing as I tried to identify it.
Then, suddenly, her face was frozen before me.
The girl was me!
My father was fucking me!
Now the action speeded up again. It went faster and faster until it was like an old-time movie, with people fucking instead of getting pies in their faces.
I tried to feel ashamed and worthless for betraying my mother this way. But the more I tried, the more I felt my father's hard, stiff cock filling my cunt. __
Finally I gave up on remorse. I wrapped my legs around my father and begged him with my surging pelvis to come in me.
"Deeper, deeper, deeper!" I pleaded. "Can't you get it in any farther?"
Dad grunted like a weight lifter on the brink of a world's record, pumping his cock into my cunt.
Sudden, excruciating pain seized my nervous system and tied my loins into a million knots. My hymen was being tested as it had never been before. At last I was on the verge of thoroughly losing my virginity.
"Do it!" I pleaded. "Please, do it!" .
The pain increased, searing through me. I'd never felt anything which so dominated my senses, good or bad. I was devastated.
Then it happened. I could feel the tearing vibrating through my body. The head of my father's prick severed my hymen like a pair of pliers cutting through barbed wire. It wiggled in the hole it had made within me, his cock-head poking through the rip in my maidenhead while the shaft remained on the other side.
"Ooooomph!" he grunted, pushing forward and assaulting the last vestige of my girlish innocence.
My virginity dissolved as his bruising prick crumbled my maidenhead- turning my cunt into a long open tunnel. Blood gushed from my pussy.
My cherry was popped! My father had popped my cherry!
The breath whooshed from my lungs with the impact and significance of what had happened in my dream. Springing up, I lifted my head and opened my eyes, desperate to return to reality.
But reality was my dream. My dream was reality. I found myself staring goggle-eyed into the sweating face of my father.
He was fucking me. It was really happening.
"Lenore," he wheezed with his eyes closed, "your pussy has never been so tight."
He thought I was the woman from the night before. The one whose panties I'd found on the couch.
When he'd gone to bed and found me asleep there he'd assumed I was Lenore in the dark and had automatically started fucking me, not knowing I was his fourteen year old daughter.
"Oh, Lenore," he moaned, "your pussy is so wet tonight."
No wonder. I was bleeding like a stuck pig. It was gushing down my thighs, drenching the bed.
How could I tell him that I wasn't Lenore. That I was Tina, his teenage daughter. That he, my father, had just stolen my virginity with his hard, thrusting cock.
I wracked my brain for the answer to this nightmare come true, but it didn't materialize.
With a paradoxical combination of horror and exhilaration, I realized that my father was making me come. I could no longer thinks I was mindless with orgasm from the incessant stimulation of his hot, throbbing cock in my tight, bleeding cunt. "Come, come!" I cried. "Fill my cunt with your cum!"
"Oh, God, Lenore, Jesus do you know how to fuck," Dad gushed, still thinking he was screwing his girl friend. "You're the first call girl I ever knew who hung around for more without being paid."
Call girl? Lenore was a call girl. A classy hooker, but a whore nonetheless. My father was fucking me and thought he was pumping his dick into a whore!
"Shut up and come, you bastard," I barked like a hardened pro who was late for another client.
He was more than up to the task. Sperm flooded from the mushrooming head of his prick, lapping all the way into my womb.
I couldn't believe how wonderful it felt. How hot and sticky and thick.
There was so much of it. So much cum. So much cum in my cunt.
I realized that I could never make a living as a prostitute. I loved fucking too much. I loved cum in my cunt too much. I could never bring it off. If anybody ever wanted to do it, I wouldn't be able to resist fucking them for free. _
When my father stopped spurting in my pussy, I had a sudden thirst for whatever was left. Pulling his prick from my soaking pussy, I slid down under his quivering body and wrapped my lips around his drooling cock-head. The sperm still dribbling from the end was divine.
Greedily tasting everything of him possible, I shoved the tip of my tongue into the slobbering vertical slit at the end of my father's prick. Gutching his hairy balls, I squeezed them as hard as I could, wringing the very last drops of delicious jizz from his nuts.
At last we were both exhausted. Dad's prick turned to limp meat. Lying side by side, we wheezed in each other's face, totaled by fucking. Finally consciousness was no longer possible, and we fell asleep in the afterglow of primal sex.
Hours later I awoke. Dad was still asleep, snoring lightly beside me. He had a smile on his face. Dreams of the tight-cunted Lenore were probably dancing in his head. If only he knew the truth.
Jumping out of bed, I ran to the bathroom and wiped the congealed blood from my thighs and cunt. Back in the bedroom I gathered the clothes my father had stripped me of in his passion, and quickly dressed. Then I went into the living room and moved rapidly toward the door, anxious to get back home before Mom thought I'd been kidnapped and called the police or something.
Then, on my way out, something stopped me. I just had an idea. Releasing the doorknob, I went over to a desk and got out some of the motel stationery and a pen, scribbling down a note to my father.
When I was finished writhing I left the note in a prominent place and left. So anxious that I couldn't stand still to wait for an elevator, I clattered down the stairs, taking them two and three at a time. I had just enough money for a taxi and kept urging the cabbie to go faster and faster to get me home.
Slipping into the house, I was relieved to find all the Hghts out and everybody in bed. As I got under the covers I suspected that Ginny and Billy had spilled the beans when I hadn't come home and told Mom where I'd been today. 1 prayed she didn't guess the worst.