Chapter 11
Unfortunately for Carl as he left the Reynolds' home, he ran into some friends on the street. They insisted he arrange a cocaine deal for them immediately. He tried to dissuade them, but since they were regular customers in his grass trade, he was forced to oblige. They drove him downtown and he didn't get home until two o'clock in the morning.
In the meantime Holly wanted to get laid. It was Friday night; she had skipped what had promised to be a great party to stay home with Carl, and now she was stuck watching television with only her fingers for company.
What in the world could she do? She knew intuitively that Carl would not be home undl much later than he'd said. Maybe she could go to the party? No, her father would never allow her to go out alone at, what was it, ten o'clock at night. That left only one choice: Billy. He was probably already asleep, but if he was not the evening might yet be salvaged.
Besides, it was kind of spooky down in the playroom all by herself.
She pulled her fingers out of her cunt and switched off the television. As she mounted the stairs she tugged her bathrobe tight around her-she was nude beneath.
Her father was, as usual, seated in his reading chair as she passed the living room on her way to the second floor. The door to her litde brother's room was closed; she opened it and peered inside: alseep, dammit! Oh, well, she thought, it wasn't a good idea anyway, not with Daddy home. As she turned to go her eyes focused on something strange: the corner of a book was peeking out from under Billy's bed. Holly had never seen him read a book of his own free will in her whole life. Her curiosity aroused, she opened the door just enough to allow her to slip in and take the book from its hiding place. Then she glided out into the hall and shut the door.
The hallway was dimly lit, but she could just make out the printing on the paperback cover: Harem of Daughters; the author was Leon Twatsky. It was a few moments before she was struck by the implications of the title. So little Billy was reading porno books!
Holly was so delighted with her discovery that she almost laughed aloud, but she caught herself. She didn't want to wake him; he mustn't know she'd found out. Still, she had to share her secret with someone. A devilish idea struck her-maybe her bookworm father would be interested.
She hurried downstairs to the living room. Larry looked up and smiled when she came into the room. He was mildly surprised to see her carrying a book, but decided not to press the point. He had tried to instill a passion for reading in his children, but he had to concede failure with them all. Now he thought it better to let them discover it on their own, without paternal pressure. He reasoned that the interests his children cultivated on their own would be more likely to stay with them for life than those forced upon them through his insistence.
"Hello Daddy, want some company?"
"Sure do," he said warmly. "Did Carl go out?" She frowned at him. On her young, pretty face the expression seemed as artificial as a mask.
"Oh, come on now," he scolded. "Can't we have a good time without him?"
A quick smile flashed across her face as she discerned the unintended double meaning of his words.
"That's better. Now, what shall we talk about?" He put down his book. Holly sat cross-legged on the couch without bothering to pull her robe down to cover her soft thighs. She did not fail to notice his glance as his eyes moved swiftly over her naked legs and up towards her half concealed pubis.
"Why don't you tell me what you're reading?" she asked.
This was a pleasant surprise. He picked up the heavy volume again and studied it seriously. "Well, this is the first volume in a three-part biography of Leon Trotsky." He looked at her. She was smiling mysteriously. "Do you know who he was?"
"Sure, he was a Communist, right?"
Her father chuckled. "Yes, he was, but he was more than just a Communist. He was one of the key participants in the Russian Revolution. He was also the organizer of the Red Army in the Soviet Union. A very important man in our century," he concluded, putting down the massive tome.
"Are you a Communist, Daddy?" Holly asked.
Larry was amused. "No, I'm not. But I want you to remember two things: first of all, if a person reads someone's books it doesn't necessarily mean they agree with them, and secondly, a person doesn't have to agree with you in order to be important to History."
He said history with a capital H. Here I am lecturing again, he thought.
"I know that," she said, trying to keep a straight face.
"I know that you do, but a lot of people don't. You'd be surprised how many people don't."
Holly almost said, "Then go tell them, asshole." But instead she said, "Did Leon Trotsky ever write any books?"
"I assume so," her father said.
"Any novels?"
He frowned. "I don't think he wrote any novels ..."
"What about this?" she asked, handing him the paperback. Larry looked at her book and then at his daughter. He took a second look at the book and said incredulously, "Where in the world did you get this?"
"I found it," Holly said. She smiled widely. The light of his reading lamp reflected the white gleam of her perfect teeth. "But where?"
"In Billy's room." She spread her knees a little farther. She was sure he could see her cunt now. The revelation sent a shrill note of excitement through her. A cold shiver raced from the top of her spine to the base. She twitched her hips slightly, uncontrollably. She felt the walls of her anus flutter as if caressed by a hundred butterflies.
He stared openly between her legs, his eyes riveted to the spot as the blood pounded through his penis like hot bolts.
They continued to speak, but their dialogue was secondary to the other drama they performed. They spoke like hypnotics, their minds mesmerized by the immensity and the immediacy of their desire.
"Isn't that by Leon Twatsky?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Not the same guy," he answered inaudibly. The humor of the coincidence was totally lost on him now. He stared lewdly at the dark valley between her legs. The position she was in revealed everything: her hair, her lips, even her asshole. He could see the tiny lips twitching. She reached down and raised the edge of her robe, exposing all of her, right up to her petite breasts. She loosened the belt and drew open the garment. His eyes swam over her every treasure: her sweet little tits tipped with rust-colored nipples, the soft line of golden down lightly tufting her flat tummy, and her nearly hairless pussy. The skin was clean and white right up to the lips. The fat ridges were polished pinkish-brown over the deep red chink of her cunt; its very walls glistened with sweet moisture.
She basked in the glow of his gaze as his appreciating eyes explored every inch of her tanned form. The liquid of love began to drip between her legs. She never thought she could get this turned on without touching anyone.
Her father gripped the arms of his chair and stared. Not once did he think to scold her or stop her. His reaction was a spontaneous, undeniable arousal. His prick was hard as an iron bar and throbbing with life.
His prick followed her up as she rose from the couch. She was only five feet two inches tall, but right now she felt all woman. She stood directly in front of him and went down on her knees. He sat and watched her, dumbfounded.
"I'd like to give you head, Daddy, okay?" she purred.
She pushed him firmly back in the chair and put both hands on his fly. She lightly ran her hands up and down the coarse fabric. Her fingers felt the straining surge of his cock through the cloth.
Her touch was almost cool on his burning loins. Then, when she loosened his zipper, he caught fire again.
As she opened his fly his prick leapt up like a flame. "MMMMMmmmmm. That looks awfully tasty," she murmured.
She fingered the fiery manhood. She glided her hands up and down its hot, red length.
"It looks so painful," she said soothingly. "Shall I kiss it and make it better?"
Larry was oblivious to his daughter's words. His entire being was centered around the cock which she held in her two hands. He could no more than moan aloud to each caress. He was moaning constantly now as she took him in both fists and began to pump his organ with two hands.
"Oh, my Lord...."
Holly looked up from his beaten member and smiled. "Do you like it?" she asked innocently.
He did not answer. His mouth was open and his tongue hung out, gasping for breath as she attacked below.
His cock was so hard it pressed up against his stomach. She pulled it gently away from his abdomen and put her mouth on it. Her warm lips closed over its head. Captured. Now he could not escape her. Now she was sure she would have his come. Her tongue wound sensuously around the tip of his dick, then slid down as she took him into her. Larry thought his heart would come out his mouth when he felt her lips close over the base of his prick, his cock-head resting firmly against the back of her throat.
She drew her head back slowly and pushed down again, this time striking his cock-head sharply against the roof of her mouth. Again. Again. Soon she was stabbing his penis into her with such force that it hurt.
She held his prick with one hand and teased his balls with the other. Each time she crushed her face down on him, he could feel his organ swallowed up in her wet mouth. As she drew back, her teeth grated against his raw flesh. The pain was exquisite.
She went on sucking. He put his hands on her head and drew back her long blonde hair. Now he could see her whole face. She was a beautiful girl. Her eyes were closed; she had totally surrendered herself to his pleasure. Her pretty red lips were split by a gaping hole into which disappeared his bursting member.
Slurping saliva sounds echoed his deep, throaty moans.
She slobbered all over him. The taste of his cock made her mouth water for more.
He felt himself beginning to come.
He could not believe it. Like a man nearing death his life appeared before him in a flash. He remembered the women he had known: Ellen, his wife, married at twenty-two, both virgins, very much in love, faithful to her for sixteen years, until she died-and afterward the other women, and his impotence-Marcia, his secretary, Eileen and Betsy from the yacht club, Andrea, his best friend's wife, and June Reynolds, the one he thought would be really different. But no, he'd been impotent with her, too. He recalled the sighs, the frowns, the looks of disappointment, the emotions which flagged each time with the strength of his penis. And the rancor, the bitterness, the name-calling. And the shame, the apologies in the dark, the heartbreaking attempts. And all for nothing-for women who knew only how to make demands.
But this was different. This girl, this special girl, his own little girl, was redeeming the soul of his manhood with each suck of her little mouth, and it was as a man revenged on his own fate that Larry fired his sperm down the throat of his daughter.
She sat back on her knees and smiled blissfully. She looked at her father with happy, loving eyes. With the back of her hand she wiped away some semen that had leaked out on her lips.
"Was that a good blow-job, Daddy?" she asked. Her inflection was the same as if she'd asked him if he wanted dessert with his dinner. He studied her naked figure, her tiny tits.
His answer was to stand and draw her to her feet. Then he leaned down and planted a deep kiss on her open lips. She stood on tiptoes and threw her arms around her father's neck. Their tongues met.
For five full minutes Larry kissed his daughter's delicious lips. He was bursting with desire and gratitude. She squirmed in his arms and kissed him back.
When they finally parted Holly put her finger to her lips and giggled. "Wow Daddy, you've sure got a nice tongue."
Her father smiled inscrutably. For the first time in a long time he felt like a real man, and, like any man, his first thought was to please his woman.
"If you think that was nice, wait till you see what else it can do." He spun around and placed Holly in his chair. He kneeled between her outstretched legs, just the way she had kneeled before him.
He drank in the sweet smell that rose from her open vulva. He caressed each thigh with one hand, then lifted them and hung her legs over the cushioned arms of the chair. Holly, her legs spread wide, sank down in the pillowed seat and raised her crotch towards his face. He put one hand under each buttock and pulled her up to him. He nuzzled into the young flesh. His tongue surrounded her silvery snatch in one long sweep. Then he kissed the very top of her cunt and said: "See if you like this, sexy."
He dragged his tongue down over the entire length of her cunt-lips, over the dark, flat flesh below to the hole in her bottom. He stiffened his tongue and drove it deep into her exposed anus. He heard her muffled groan as he tickled her rectal walls a good two inches inside the ring of her sphincters. He let his tongue slip out and then pushed it in again. There was an odd flavor inside. No matter. His head reeled with drunkenness as he breathed in the heavy fragrance of perfume mixed with the scent of shit. He had never smelled anything so exciting before. He found himself tonguing her anus madly, screwing his tongue in and out of her raw, open hole.
Holly went crazy. She put one hand on the back of his head to plunge his face even farther into her forbidden entrance. With the other hand on his forehead, she held his hair out of the way so she could watch his long pink tongue as it reamed her asshole. At the same time she frigged her clit hotly.
It didn't take long for the double pleasure to bring the liquor of love down on her father's face. But now her clit was aroused-she wanted more.
"Suck my cunt now, please Daddy!" she begged.
He swallowed down the last drops of her come and placed a farewell kiss on her fresh-cleaned anus. He pulled back for a moment to try to clear his head. He was dead-drunk on the sweet wine that seeped down between her legs. One look at the spot before his eyes and he gave up all hope of regaining his equilibrium. Her entire crotch was stretched out in front of him. His eyes wandered with fascination up and down the length of the dark furrow-not dark really, but tinged with a deeper pink than the surrounding skin of her thighs. The outer lips of her pussy were split wide in welcome. He leaned forward and nibbled on their soft looseness.
"Oh Daddy," she giggled, running her fingers through the hair on his head.
Her inner lips were very red and wet-looking. He pressed in farther and got his tongue between them. His tongue found its way to the top of her vagina. There, in plain view, was her little clitoris. He thought it looked like a tiny upsidedown ice cream cone. He put his mouth over it and caught it between his lips. He held it firmly and tickled its tip with the end of his tongue.
"Oh . . . oh . . . oh . . ." Within seconds she was heaving with excitement. She crossed her legs around his head and held him tightly with both hands. He teased her sex-stick mercilessly, clamping down hard on the organ with his strong lips. He felt confident and sure of himself; this was one act he knew he was good at. After all, he had used it for years to satisfy the women he could never fuck. Now he would use it to satisfy Holly. He held her up with all his strength and crushed his face into his daughter's cunt until he thought he would faint for air.
He worked and worked his tormenting tongue until a final flick brought Holly to the brink.
"Oh ... Ah ... Da. .. . DDDDDAAAAADDDD-DDDDDD Y Y Y Y Y!!!!!!"
And his face was smeared with the sweet come from his daughter's cunt.