Chapter 6
Roger Lipscotch strode up the front stoop of his house, feeling tired and bad-tempered.
His body was sweaty and grimy, and his financial worries kept nagging at the back of his mind.
Fucking that hot little Oriental hitchhiker had sure brightened up his day, but he had sunk back into savage melancholy as soon as he dropped her off and headed into Tuckerville.
He parked his rig in the trucking lot down the street from where he lived, and walked home, stopping at a supermarket to pick up a six pack of Budweiser.
He kicked open the front door and strode into the house.
"Hey, anybody home?" he roared.
His voice echoed through the empty house.
He muttered sourly beneath his breath. Those little philandering bitches were never around to cook him a meal when he was tired and wiped out from a day on the road.
He stalked into the kitchen and put the beer down on the table. He saw the note there and squinted at it, trying to make out Barbie's hasty scrawl.
It read: "Daddy, Vicky's spending the night with Amy. I'm going out with some friends to see a double feature and have dinner out, so I won't be back till late. There's some ham in the fridge. Love, Barbie."
The burly trucker grunted and crumpled the note in his big, hamlike hand, tossing it into the waste basket.
He opened a can of beer and guzzled it, letting the liquid flow right into his belly. He drank the whole thing in a couple of gulps, crumpling the can in his strong hand and tossing it on top of the note in the trash can.
Shit, what I need is a hot shower, he decided.
He strode down the hall toward the bathroom. Kicking open the door, he went inside and stripped to the skin.
His brawny, six foot two inch physique was grimy and sweaty. He turned on the shower and stepped beneath the stinging needles of hot water with a grunt of satisfaction.
Standing beneath the shower head, he let the water flow over him. It was a soothing, almost erotic feeling. He lathered up with a bar of soap, washing off the sweat and come which made his loins all sticky and itchy.
As he washed off his cock, he felt little flurries of excitement begin to collect in his belly.
His eyes were closed, and he remembered the feeling of Chieko's tight, sweet cunt grasping around his big prong as he pounded it to her.
He remembered the way her little, rosy tipped titties jiggled and bounced as he rammed his cock in and out of her belly.
He remembered the little screams and moans she made.
He remembered the way she tasted and smelled.
Hot lust began to burn in his belly.
His cock began to thicken and grow harder and harder, expanding in his hand until it stood out before him, fully erect and glistening.
Lewdly, he drew his wet, soapy fingers up and down the cock shaft, stroking his dick as he" relived in his mind the hot sex scene he had had with the Oriental girl that afternoon.
Hell, was that a turn on! In his lust-enfevered, beer thickened mind, the image of Chieko blended into a vision of his gorgeous nymphet daughters.
He fantasized about Barbie getting down on her knees in front of him, slowly unzipping his pants with her small, delicate hands, taking out his big, vein-etched organ and giving a little mewl of delight before she wrapped her crimson, succulent lips around it.
He fantasized that while Barbie was sucking on his cock, he was holding his beautiful blonde fourteen year old daughter, Vicky, in his arms, running his hands over her trembling, smooth girlish figure, clamping his hard mouth around her twitching, hot little titties ...
Shee-it, did those thoughts make him wild with lust!
Roger grinned lewdly, licking his lips.
He let go of his cock, and it bobbed in the air at a forty-five degree angle, glistening with liquid, throbbing with lust.
He rinsed away the soapy residue on his skin and turned the taps off, stepping out of the shower.
He toweled off and strode naked through the hall to the kitchen. There was something erotically pleasurable about being able to walk around with nothing on without fear of being seen.
He opened another can of Bud and guzzled it. His cock was still standing out in front of him, twitching with lust.
He flipped on the television set. Commercials were on, and he watched Brooke Shields wiggling her tush at him, garbed in skin tight Calvin Klein jeans.
Hot waves of lust rippled through his belly like fire as he ogled her greedily. His mind was growing thicker with all the beer he had consumed.
He dropped heavily into one of the kitchen chairs, fisting his fat tool and stroking it up and down as he watched T.V.
But the commercial ended, and the soap opera came on again.
Roger looked around, feeling very restless and very horny. He also felt angry and vicious.
In the past, when Margaret had been around, he would take out his pent up lust and anger on her.
He remembered the times he had tied her up and gagged her and then savagely ravaged her body. He had received a brutal satisfaction from the rough treatment he had given her, and though she screamed and raved about it afterwards, Roger knew that Margaret had really loved it. She liked to be dominated and forced into sex.
He knew that the guy she had run off with, a brawny athlete turned travelling salesman, was a mean son of a bitch who probably treated her as badly as he had.
Roger shook these disturbing thoughts away. It wasn't a good idea for him to think about Margaret when he felt this way. It only made him madder.
His roving, restless gray eyes fell on a large Sears catalogue lying on the side table beside the refrigerator.
He leaned forward and picked up the hefty volume, dropping it on top of the table in front of him.
Idly, he flipped through it. Almost uncannily, he opened it to a page advertising teenaged girls' swim wear.
He gawked at the page as lust fanned through him once more. Lovely, luscious young things with trim, nubile bodies, well-scrubbed, pretty faces and long silky frolicked across the page in skimpy swimming outfits.
Oh, shit! Roger groaned as he ogled the young beauties. All that sweet cunt! I'd give a ton of gold to have just one of those little sluts here with me right now!
He stroked his fist up and down the corrugated, heavy shaft of his bulging frankfurter as he stared down at the gorgeous models in the catalogue.
With his free hand, he reached forward and turned the pages slowly.
He stopped when he came to the section on girls' underwear. His heart beat increased rapidly. His breath came short and fast. His cock twitched impatiently in his sweaty paw.
His eyes bulged as they raked across the page. A luscious, pouting blonde girl in her early teens was modeling a skimpy bra and frilly panties. She wore nothing else.
God, was she a beauty! Roger's hot gray eyes riveted on the soft, pink mound in the front of the panties as he imagined the delicate, pink pussy which lay beneath. Shit, he'd like to run his tongue up and down that little blond slut's hot slit!
He'd like to stick his fingers inside of her and revel in the tightness of her narrow passage.
He'd like to ram his big, brutal, equine pecker to the balls in her tight, twitching cunt and watch her grimace and sob in mingled pain and pleasure ...
Roger's head whirled. He jerked vigorously at his meat, his mouth dry with lust. His belly was tightening, and hot, scalding semen was collecting in his big sweaty balls.
Roger was so wrapped up in his heated fantasy, and his mind was so foggy with beer, and the T.V. sounds obscured his hearing, so he didn't hear the slam of the front door or hear a bright feminine voice calling, "Anyone home?"
He continued to masturbate lewdly until a loud gasp from the kitchen door made him jerk his head upward.
He found himself staring straight into his fourteen year old daughter, Vicky's big baby blue eyes!
When Vicky Lipscotch went over to her best friend, Amy's, house that afternoon, she had planned to stay the night.
But, a couple of hours later, Amy's little brother, Timmy, was diagnosed as having the measles.
And since Vicky had not had the measles yet, Amy's mother, Mrs. Monroe, had told Vicky to go home so she wouldn't catch the sickness.
Amy and Vicky had strolled around town together for a while, chatting and giggling about the boys in class they had crushes on.
Not a few men turned and looked after the pair of delectable nymphets as they passed by.
Vicky was a stunningly beautiful thing of fourteen. Her golden blonde hair cascaded about her shoulders like a shower of sunlight, framing her beautiful, porcelain hued face.
She had large, liquid blue eyes with long sexy lashes, and a small, perky upturned nose.
Her lips were full and luscious and strawberry colored, ripe for kissing.
That day, she wore a frilly pink frock which fanned out above her knees, revealing her long, shapely legs, and occasionally, when she was running, a flash of her pink panties could be seen.
Amy was a pretty thing, too, with reddish hair and limpid soft brown eyes. The two class mates were among the most popular girls in their class, and lots of the guys went after them.
But neither girl had a steady guy at this time. Barbie liked some of the boys who took her to the movies or talked to her between classes, but only as friends.
She was attracted to men. She would sigh as she watched Lee Majors as "The Six Million Dollar Man" on television, and she had pictures of such studs as Rock Hudson, Clint Walker and Chad Everett on the walls of her bedroom.
Vicky was still a virgin, and quite naïve about sex. But she and Amy talked about sex a lot, and both decided they wanted to find out more through experience.
But neither one knew of a guy they wanted to make love to, so their plan had come to a standstill.
"The first time," Amy had said importantly, "it has to be with someone special. Otherwise, you'll be spoiled for life. You can't just let a wimp like Marty Hobson do it to you. You need to find someone really, really attractive!"
It was on this note that the two friends parted late in the afternoon. Vicky had tried calling home earlier, but no one had been there.
She assumed Barbie was out and her father hadn't come back. She forgot to phone again when she left Amy.
Amy's house was only a few blocks away from Vicky's, so she had no trouble walking home.
As she came up the driveway of the Lipscotch residence, Vicky was deeply lost in thought.
She was puzzling over the problem of which guy she knew would be the one to take her cherry.
Why couldn't she settle on one of the boys at school? Some of the hunkiest jocks in the school had flirted with her. She could take her pick. But, somehow, that wasn't what she wanted.
She wanted someone, well, someone a bit more MATURE than those gawky school boys.
She wanted a real MAN! Someone tall and rugged, with a hairy chest and a brawny body.
Barbie let the door slam shut behind her and called, "Anyone home?"
No one replied, but she could hear the television set playing in the kitchen. Maybe Barbie had come back from her date already!
Vicky skipped down the hall to the kitchen door and pushed it open. What she saw made her gasp in shock, and she stood in the doorway, absolutely transfixed, her mouth open, her eyes huge with surprise.
Her big, lusty father was sitting on a chair not three yards from where she stood. He was stark naked, his big, brawny body rippling with muscles.
And his huge, ham-like fist was moving rapidly up and down between his wide stretched legs, the fingers wrapped around an incredibly enormous pole of flesh and gristle.
Vicky felt terror and confusion grasp at her throat as she set eyes on his bulbous, ten inch sex tool.
What was THAT?? She couldn't believe the stupendous proportions of her father's meaty hard-on! Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined that a man's "thing" could be anywhere near as huge as the one sticking straight up between her father's legs!
Why, she had caught a glimpse of Roger when he was getting out of the shower once, and then, his cock had looked very different. It had been much, much smaller, she was sure, and soft and wiggly, not hard and fat and thick and long like it was now!!
Vicky was absolutely paralyzed by what she saw.
And so, for a few moments, was Roger Lipscotch.
He gaped stupidly at his daughter, his hand wrapped around his bulging ramrod, his chest heaving, his cock jerking with unabashed lust.
A glistening pearl of pre-come trembled on the glands of his pecker, and his balls twitched with excitement.
As he stared at his daughter, watching the mingled expressions of terror, shock, curiosity and embarrassment twitch across her lovely features, Roger became suddenly aware of how incredibly desirable Vicky looked.
Her pink frock accentuated the small, orange-sized mounds of her sweet young breasts, and clung to her slender, hour glass waist.
He could see her sexy, sleek legs, and her face was flushed and pretty, her rosy lips demanding to be ravaged by a hard, masculine mouth.
A slow, lascivious grin played across Roger's face. His gray eyes smoldered with drunken lust.
He began to lewdly slide his fist up and down his veiny sex tool once more, staring boldly at Vicky.
"Come over here, Vicky baby," he ordered in a strange, husky voice, grinning at her and displaying his strong white teeth.
Vicky stared into his eyes, and something about his bestial expression struck terror into her heart.
He was staring at her like a wild beast looking at its prey. Vicky's head whirled and her legs felt weak at the knees.
"D-Daddy ... " she squeaked pleadingly.
"GET OVER HERE!" Roger roared suddenly, his face twisting with rage, lunging forward with his free hand.
His fingers locked around Vicky's wrist painfully, and she gave a little scream as he hauled her roughly forward.
He threw an arm around her waist, pulling her against him hard. He dug his fingers into her hair, wrenching her face back, and with a salacious growl, he mashed his hot, hard mouth against hers.
Vicky gave a muffled screech as her own father kissed her. His hard, wet mouth covered hers, and Vicky shuddered as she felt his thick, long tongue pry between her lips and wriggle around.
He sucked up her saliva, kissing her passionately, his jaws working vigorously.
His hot, sweaty fingers groped impatiently at the back of her dress. He yanked down the zipper hard, ripping the frock with the force of his savage movement.
Vicky gave another terrified squeal, pushing her hands against her father's chest and trying in vain to break his relentless grip around her waist.
What was he doing to her? Her mind raced wildly. Her head reeled with fright. But his hard grip around her body and the passionate kissing and the pressure of his massive, heavily muscled chest against her trembling figure, elicited a strange, darkly primordial longing deep within her.
Trickles of unwitting pleasure began to spill through her loins, making them grow steadily moister.
She stopped pushing against her father's chest, lying in his arms, shuddering and gasping for breath.
She knew how strong and how relentless Roger Lipscotch could be. She had seen him slap her mother for contradicting something he had said. She had felt his hard hand on her tingling buns many a time. She knew his strength, and his rage ...
And a flowering sensation of excitement began to overcome her senses. She was beginning to respond to her father's aggressive caresses.
Roger pushed her away from him roughly, gripping the sleeves of her dress and yanking at them.
Vicky whimpered as her big, drunken father brutally stripped off her new frock, ripping it to shreds in the process.
She was wearing a skimpy brassiere and lacy pink panties.
Roger ogled the sight of her slender, girlish body, tanned a golden brown. Her small thrusting breasts were quivering and heaving as she gasped in breathless fear and excitement. He could see them straining against her bra.
Roger grinned at her lewdly, licking his dry lips, his gray eyes smoldering with lust.
"Yeah, Vicki, you're a hot little slut! And now you're gonna suck your Daddy's big, mean cock!"
He slid a strong hand around the back of her neck and roughly shoved down, forcing the trembling blonde fourteen year old to her knees on the cold linoleum floor.
He pulled her face forward against his widely stretched, muscular, hairy legs.
"Suck it," he breathed thickly, clenching her neck in a viselike grip, "suck your Daddy's big, throbbing pecker, baby! Suck it good!!"