Chapter 6
Herman froze against the door facing. If only he had some clothes on, he could bluff his way out. But Laverne had always been very strict about the Brockman family wearing clothes around the house. Jilly would be sure to think it strange that he was bumbling around in his pajamas and would undoubtedly mention it to Laverne.
For agonizing seconds, he heard her light feet tripping in and out of the master bedroom. Then he heard her go to the door and yell out, "Mom, he's not in his room. What do you want me to do, just bring you the money off the dresser?"
Jesus! That's all that made them come back? He'd had a thousand thoughts and all that was wrong was Laverne had forgotten to take enough goddamned money with her!
Within seconds, Jilly had grabbed the money off the dresser at her mother's command and dashed back to the car with it, and they were both gone as soon as they had arrived.
Whew! Much too close for comfort. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure Francine was still asleep and, seeing that she was, ran to the kitchen. He grabbed a cold beer from the refrigerator and downed it all in three long swallows, then opened a second can and took it with him to the bedroom. He drank a long swig from it, deposited it on the night table, and hopped back into bed.
"Okay, honey," he muttered under his breath, "I learned my lesson. Damned near lost my chance to get it on with you ... this time is for real."
He dropped beside her and placed his hand on the only remaining part of her body still covered by the quilt-the shallow hollow of her crotch. The marvelous heat of her young cunt, real or imagined by Herman in his new lust, seemed to flow up through the thin quili like smoke up the flue of a fireplace.
He massaged her, not with fear and hesitation as before, but with the lusty pressure of a man bent on getting pleasure for himself. The girl shifted only slightly and when she did it was only to bring her thighs closer together. She moved her head on the pillow and the trace of a petulant sleep frown grew on her face, but soon vanished to leave her as unwaking as before.
Herman suddenly remembered what young Rosalie had told him during her interview ... she had been asleep when her little brother began playing around with her naked body. Would it be possible to take equal liberties with Francine? God, how he hoped it would! But maybe Rosalie had been lying, as he strongly suspected, and hadn't really been asleep like she claimed.
Oh, the hell with it! No two people have the same sleeping habits anyway ... for all he knew, maybe Francine slept even more heavily than Rosalie. He would sure as shit give it a whirl. He gazed down at the nearly naked body of his daughter and his mind blurred at the potential pleasure in store for him. Those beautiful little tits, those long slender legs, the smooth perfect skin of her pretty face and the long blonde hair that lay in a golden fan across the pillow ... all that was lying there waiting for him to rejoice in!
If--and it was a big "if-he could manage to keep from waking her up. It was dangerous, but impossible for him to resist trying the crazy thing.
He boldly ran his hand under the quilt, touching her for the first time on her bare skin. He moved his fingers gently over the depression of her navel, then headed for the creamy little mounds of her small plump titties.
The touch of her skin sent shivers of desire through his body and made his cock pulse like a piston. He switched hands, putting his left hand on her flat, firm stomach and grabbing his meat with the other.
"Oh, honey," he said under his breath to his sleeping daughter, "if only you don't wake up 'til I get a nice hold on these sweet little tits."
Herman rubbed her stomach and worked his way toward her tits, ever wary that she might awaken. Francine began to move a bit, but it was only the aimless tossing of a sleep that, while still deep, was nevertheless somewhat disturbed. He worked his hand up and down his tool with gusto.
When he finally closed his fingers over the taut tip of her nipples, he had to quit jacking off. He was so worked up over finally getting his hands on the girl's ripe treasures that he was afraid he'd shoot off at that very instant. Breathing hard, he lay beside her and milked the titty with one hand as he brought the other up to join it. If there ever was a pair of tits that deserved double duty, this was the pair.
He leaned over her and gazed at her baby-soft face from only inches away, dying to plaster his hungry lips over her inviting, half-parted mouth. He ran his nose up and down the length of her tits and tummy, savoring the slightly acrid odor of her girl smell. His cock quivered between his legs, demanding access to the damp, secret skin of inner thighs.
I can't touch her with it, he thought to himself. It's stupid to think that wouldn't wake her up ... gotta hold back. God, would I like to feel the head of my cock between her legs!
He also knew that the splitting of her maidenhead would be no trivial matter-even if she were awake, much less starting out at it while she slept. If not his cock, maybe his hands then ... if playing with her tits this much didn't wake her up, maybe he would get by with a little finger-fucking.
He should have known there was bound to be a reaction from her somewhere along the line, but by this time his hard prick was controlling him about as much as his head was. He left one hand to stimulate her tits and stuck the other under the quilt.
He flipped it off and left her, for the first time, totally naked. The little tease wasn't wearing anything at all over her privates!
Sonofabitch, he thought, look at that, will you? If her mother knew she slept strip-ass naked like this she'd tan her hide ... wonder if Jilly does the same?
He was set atremble all over again by the sight of her virginal young cunt. The hair there was sparse compared to a grown woman's, but the sleek swell of her outer lips was enough to prove she was far from being a "little girl." And the color-every bit as blonde as the silky hair on her golden little head! His fingers shook as he poised them over her sweet slit and built up enough nerve to dip into the honey.
His prick was still as a poker and quaking like it had become a separate part of his body. He glanced at her face again one more time, then parted the golden fleece with his fingers and pressed them to the full-lipped slit of her lovely little cunt.
She moved! This time a lot. Before he even began to have time to see if he could make her wet, she turned her ass this way and that. Then she even raised an arm to her face and shielded her eyes as though she were on the verge of waking up.
Herman jerked his hands off her body as though it were radioactive. He hopped off the bed, his cock jiggling awkwardly in the air and his feet desperately seeking his house slippers. Before he was even standing, she began to mumble.
"Huh? Whaz 'at?" she mumbled groggily. "Who zat?"
Herman jammed his feet into the elusive slippers and tore out of her room like a cannon shot. Behind him he could still hear her half-wakened voice.
He dove into his bed and closed the door behind him. For agonizing seconds he lay in fear. Had she seen him as he ran out? Had she known he was on the bed with her? Had she known anyone was? Would she freak out when she saw that her covers had been pulled off, or maybe just think she'd done it herself during the night? And did she realize, now that she was awake, that someone had been touching her body in intimate places where no hand dare intrude except her own?
Listening closely and hold his breath, he could make out noises in her room. A drawer opening and closing, a swishing noise, a random movement ... then the sound of her feet in the hall. She was not only awake, but up and dressed and coming toward the master bedroom!
"Mom," she called outside the door, "Daddy?"
He grabbed a book off the night table and answered, "Francine, that you? Your mom's with Jilly at the dentist. What's wrong? I thought you were still asleep."
"Daddy," she called, "could ... could you come out here a minute please?"
Oh, shit, he thought, this is it! She sounded disturbed. Carefully remembering to don his robe over his pajamas, he went out to see what was going to happen.
"Never mind, Daddy," she said, changing her mind, "it's okay. There's nothing wrong. I ... I don't have to talk to you. I guess I'll just wait 'til Mom gets home."
He felt a cold chill pass through his heart. The worst had happened-she was going to tell Laverne he'd been in her room. Somehow she had been awake more than he knew.
He became especially nice. "Now Francine, can't you and I discuss this? You don't have to take it to your mother, do you? I'm sure the two of us can-"
"No, Daddy," she said, smiling sweetly. "It ... it's a 'girl type' thing I have to talk about. I better wait for Mom. It's not important, I guess."
Her easy demeanor gave him second thoughts. Was it possible she could be referring to something else? Being as careful as he could to keep his voice from shaking, he asked in a very offhand tone, "How long you been awake? Did the ... alarm wake you? Did you and Jilly have your clock set?"
"Oh, no," she told him, her face innocent as a lamb's, "I just now woke up. Guess I just woke up 'cause it was time for me to quit sleeping."
He had to restrain himself from giving out with an audible sigh of relief. His fears were in vain-somehow, she had been asleep all the time after all. It made him feel so good to know he had escaped detection that he ushered her into the kitchen and poured some orange juice for her. He even offered to scramble her some eggs.
"You will?" she eagerly chirped. "Groovy!"
It wasn't at all common for her daddy to make such an offer. She wondered why he was so con genial this morning. Maybe she had just been overlooking how nice he really was. Suddenly she felt especially close to him. Maybe she could talk to him about what was bothering her, after all.
"Sure nothing's wrong, honey?" he called from the stove.
That did it. She would talk to him about it instead of waiting for her mom. She answered yes, that there was something on her mind, but she would feel funny talking about it with him. She said she was afraid she might get embarrassed, though. It was, she repeated, "girl stuff."
He assured her it would be okay. He lightly jested that her mom wasn't the only adult in the house who knew about such matters, and she shouldn't feel at all ashamed to discuss whatever it was with him.
What the hell's she driving at, anyway, he wondered.
"Well, okay, Daddy," she finally said. "I guess it's okay for me to talk about stuff like this with you. But listen ... don't mention this to Mom. I think she might get sore if she found out I talked to you about it."
He assured her everything she said would be strictly between them. She giggled and said okay, she could confide in him, but it would take her awhile to get up her nerve.
"Well, maybe it'll only take you as long to do that as it does to finish your eggs," he joshed. "I'll be in the living room watching television."
Now he was really curious. On the other hand, she seemed especially talkative and friendly this morning. Maybe his best bet was just to let her go at her own speed and not try to push her. That approach had worked well so far. He grabbed a beer and plopped down on the couch to watch television.
In a few minutes she came in and joined him. She made him promise he wouldn't laugh at her, then opened up to him. She said she'd been having some strange feelings lately. They were "real personal" feelings, she told him, and they were different than anything she had ever felt before. Boldly, she mentioned that she thought it might have something to do with the fact that she had begun having her period a few months before, but she wasn't sure.
It made Herman feel good to have her discuss such intimate things with him. Not to mention the fact that such a sexy subject made his cock grow a bit inside his pajamas and robe.
"Well, honey," he said, "I thought your mom had a long talk with you about your period and everything. Didn't she explain it all to you? You better be more specific."
"Yeah, she explained all that to me," Francine said, "but I didn't mean it's something about my actual period ... just about ... I don't know, just about growing up, I guess. See, Daddy, I think something's wrong with me. I mean, I feel certain ways sometimes and I don't know if other girls ever feel that way or not. You think ... you think I could be some kind of freak, Daddy?"
Her last statement was uttered with such grave seriousness that he had to tousle her hair and laugh in spite of his promise. He assured her that he wasn't laughing at her, only at her idea that she might be "some kind of freak."
"Honey," he said, "there's not a thing in the world wrong with you. Of course you're not any kind of freak. You're healthy as you can be, the prettiest girl in your class. Didn't they give you the main role in the big school play last year? "
She reddened a bit around the ears at his compliment, but inside she felt a surge of delight at his words. She modestly acknowledged what he said, but claimed that what she was talking about was something else.
"I ... I really shouldn't tell you, Daddy," she hedged. "It's about ... you know, secret things...." Her voice trailed off and she lowered her eyes.
"Nonsense," he said, pulling her to him playfully and shaking her by the ears. That forced a grin on her face. "Come on, out with it. Tell Daddy what's bothering you."
Her face brightened. "Promise you won't tell Mom?"
"Of course not," he cried. "No way!" This was getting tedious and silly.
"Okay then," she said, "but let me whisper it to you."
And she stretched forward and put her lips to his ear. As she whispered, her firm torso was pressed delightfully close to his. And she was stretched so far forward that her skirt was inadvertently yanked much higher up the back of her pretty legs than she meant it to be. He could see damned near up to where the elastic legband of her panties must be, he thought. He remembered how delicious she had looked in bed, naked.
As her hot breath buzzed into ear, he could hardly believe what he was hearing. The combination of what she was telling him plus the intimate closeness of their bodies was making his prick swell in spite of his best efforts to keep it down. If a mirror had been in front of him, he would have been amazed at the way his eyes grew wider and wider as he listened.
Finally she drew away and shyly turned her face away. "See what I mean, Daddy," she said in a quiet voice, "see why I didn't want to tell you?"
He swept his arm around her, enclosing her in a fatherly hug and pulling her affectionately to his side.
"You poor little monkey," he consoled her. "Is that what's been bothering you? Well, I'm going to fix that right now. You've been an awfully good girl to tell me about it. I know it was hard for you to talk about, but don't worry ... we're going to have a 'man-to-man' talk and I'm going to clear everything up for you."
She managed a fey grin at his attempt to make her laugh about them having a man-to-man talk.
"You sit right here, honey," he told her, pulling her onto his lap as though it were the most common thing in the world, "right here where you used to sit when you were a little bitty girl. There, isn't that better?"
She nodded, smiling at this unaccustomed display of parental affection, and allowed her trim figure to be hauled onto his lap. She felt a little silly to be sitting there at her age but it was also kind of fun, sort of a joking game between them. But she knew whatever he was about to say in an swer to her questions wouldn't be a joke ... at least she hoped not-she had been deadly serious about everything she whispered to him.
"In the first place, Francine," he said, "all girls have feelings like you just described to me. It's the most normal thing in the world. Some may start being aware of it at an earlier age than others, but sooner or later it's bound to happen."
"It ... it is?" she ventured, wonder in her voice. "Even when it's where I told you...." Her words trailed off and she made a furtive gesture toward her lap.
"Sure," he continued. "And you needn't be embarrassed talking about what's 'between your legs,' as you called it. By the way, you'll hear that called by a lot of names, so it doesn't matter what you call it-but don't be afraid to call it something. Why not just say 'cunt' and be done with it."
She said she'd heard older girls call it that, but thought it was nasty. "I've heard them say p-pussy for it, too," she volunteered, stumbling over the forbidden word from embarrassment but still feeling a thrill of pride at being able to say it in front of her daddy. "And other words, too ... like snatch."
She giggled. "Jilly calls it her 'cunny' sometimes. I don't know where she got that."
"And so, honey," he said, resuming his role as teacher, "it's perfectly natural for a girl's cunt to get those 'funny feelings,' as you called it. That's called 'getting hot' when you feel like that, or 'turned on.' It's like a boy or a man getting a 'hard-on' or getting his prick 'stiff.' You know what that is?"
Jesus Christ, he thought to himself, if she doesn't know what it is she can just wiggle her ass around in my lap and feel mine. I'm so fucking horny from this shit I'm afraid I'm gonna pop my nuts off any second.
She nodded that she knew what that was, lowering her blue eyes at the admission.
"You said you first noticed feeling that way a few years ago when you were taking a warm bath," he went on, "but that afterward you began to notice other things that made you feel the same way. Like sliding down that pole at the playground and the time you rode the horse at Uncle John's farm. But what started bothering you about getting hot was that as you've gotten older, you get hot in different ways, right? And more often than before. That sometimes you just start feeling that way for no reason at all, like when you're in bed at night or when you're taking a sunbath out in the patio?"
She nodded. "Yes, like that," she acknowledged. "But what about this morning? What about a girl gg-getting hot while she's asleep? Isn't that kinda weird?"
Jesus, if she only knew what made her feel that way this morning:, he thought.
"Not in the least," he told her. "You say you don't even remember having any dream? Well, maybe you had one but forgot it. Anyway, it's nothing to be alarmed about. When a boy does it's called a 'wet dream' because he shoots off. But for girls, it just makes them get turned on a lot like you said you were. It's perfectly normal."
Now she was feeling pretty grown up and a lit tie bit wicked to be discussing such things with her daddy. "I sure was," she exclaimed, "more than I've ever been before!"
"You were what, honey?" he asked, his voice growing raspy. He knew damned well what she meant but he wanted to hear the words from her sweet, innocent little mouth.
"Well, hot," she declared, proving she was up to saying the words he had taught her. "Wow, my cunt sure was hot when I woke up!"
His cock pulsed hard at the words issuing from his sweet little daughter's mouth. She darted a glance at his lap and he realized she had actually felt it through his pants. She seemed to grow a bit ill at ease.
"Gee, thanks, Dad, for telling me all that stuff," she said, shifting her hard little ass in his lap. "I guess I better move now, I ... I'm making you uncomfortable."
"No, I'm okay," he said. "You don't have to hop off so soon. Besides, that isn't the only reason you thought of getting off my lap just now, was it?"
"Huh?" she said, giving a little start. "Sure it was. I've been here now for a little while and I just thought you might be getting tired. I'm not a baby anymore," she added, attempting to force lightness, "so I must be kinda heavy after a few minutes on your lap."
"No, you sure aren't a baby anymore," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "But tell me the truth now. Didn't you feel something just now, underneath you? Isn't that the thing that really made you mention getting up?"
She flashed the answer to him with her eyes, un mistakably, before she spoke. "Well yeah," she admitted, "I ... I did feel that."
"Honey, I thought that's what it was," he said. "You don't have to be ashamed of feeling that. That was just Daddy's old cock jumping a little, that's all it was."
"I thought that's what it was," she said quietly, "but I didn't think I oughta ... uh ... you know, talk about it."
As he spoke, he casually let a hand fall from one of her shoulders into her lap, allowing it to lie there unmoving. "Doesn't hurt to talk about it," he said. "Every man's got one. And sometimes a man's cock sorta moves around by itself, you see. Listen, I'm going to tell you a secret. You told me yours, so now I'll tell you mine. Wanna hear it?"
Francine still had vague qualms, but his playful approach appealed to her and made her relax considerably.
"Sure," she piped.
Following her style, he leaned forward and put his lips to the youngster's ear. The delicate pink shell smelled of lemons and clean skin. "You're the one that made my cock jump just now," he whispered to her. "You sitting here in my lap all sweet and pretty ... that's what did it."
It seemed awfully weird for her daddy to have that happen, she thought, but it also made her feel sort of ... proud. Proud that it was her that caused it to happen.
She giggled. "Really?" she said.
His hand had been lying for some time now in the girl's lap, and although she had made no move to remove it he could tell that she was very aware of it.
"Let me ask you a question," he posed, "and you tell me the honest truth. Okay?"
"What?" she said, her voice a little shaky.
"This 'getting hot' business that happens to you now that you're growing up so fast-have you felt that way any while you've been sitting here in my lap?" he asked.
Her breath caught in her throat. She licked her lips, which were now suddenly drier, and hedgingly replied, "Maybe ... maybe a little bit."
"Don't be afraid to tell Daddy the truth now," he said.
She was now unbearably conscious of the fact she was still sitting in his lap while they were discussing it. And the hand which rested gently on her lap, while remaining light and still, seemed somehow to be getting warmer and warmer.
She turned her eyes aside from his when she answered, and her voice was thin and quiet. "It feels that way right now, daddy," she said.
Now he was slowly moving his fingers in her lap, kneading their tips lightly into the thin skirt she had thrown on when she woke up that morning. She shifted uneasily in his lap. It was the wrong thing to do. Underneath her she felt another jump of her daddy's stiff organ. And now that she knew what it was, her bottom seemed even more sensitive to it than before.
"Hot, huh?" he said, egging her on.
"Yes, Daddy."
"Hot and ... a little damp, maybe?" he persisted, playing on her passion. "Yes."
"Kinda itchy?" he asked. "Yes."
"Where does it feel that way?" he wanted to know. "Where is it, now ... isn't it right under where my hand's lying? "
She nodded without speaking. Again she drew the tip of her tongue across dry lips.
"Right here, isn't it, honey?" he said, pushing his forefinger into the soft spot between her thighs.
She caught her breath. " ... unh ... yeah, Daddy, right there. Whew! Right there where you're touching."
Then Herman deftly snaked his hand off her skirt and thrust it underneath, sliding it up the smooth channel between her slender young thighs.
"Sit still, honey," he whispered hoarsely. "Daddy's gonna show you something."