Chapter 2
The next morning she got up early and went down to breakfast. Her parents were still sleeping because they had been out late the night before, so she took her time and waited for them before she went out.
"Well, good morning sunshine," she heard her father call as he came down the stairs. "How'd you sleep?"
"Just fine, daddy. Did you have a nice time?"
"Oh, just the same old thing, sweetheart, but we have to go to those dreary things."
In a few minutes she heard her mother come downstairs and go to the pantry to talk with the maid.
"Amy, you know that we're having guests this evening, so would you please have the canapes ready about seven and the buffet will be about nine, okay?"
"Certainly Mrs. Rhodes," she answered, "I'll have everything ready right on time."
"You're having a party tonight, mother," she asked. "Who's coming, anyone I know?"
"I'm sure you'll know some of the people, Jenny. It's not going to be a very big affair, just a few couples for drinks and dinner." She glanced at her husband, a warning gleam in her eye.
"I'd forgotten about that little deal," he said, "Can't we postpone it for another week until Jenny's back at school?"
"Why," Jenny asked, "I won't be in the way, will I?" Her voice was a challenge.
"Of course not, darling. I just thought that maybe we could do something special tonight, like all go but to dinner together."
"I'm afraid that's impossible, Carter," her mother interjected, "I've all ready invited the people weeks ago and it's too late to cancel out now."
"That's okay, daddy," she said, "I guess we can go out to dinner some other time, besides I can watch some television and get another good night's sleep. We don't get to watch TV at school, so it will be a real treat."
"I guess that's how it'll have to be, honey," he said, "but we'll definitely go out one other day this week, I promise." He kissed her lightly on the cheek and announced that he had to go to the studio for a few hours to go over some lines and staging.
"Why don't you go to the club and play some tennis," her mother suggested, "I'm sure you can find some young people around there since it's the week-end."
"Maybe I will," she said, "May I use the car?"
"Sure, take mine, but be back by six so that you can have dinner before the guests arrive."
Jennifer nodded, pushed her chair away from the table and ran to get her tennis racket.
She drove to the club and played several sets of tennis with some boys she had met over her last vacation and then decided she would go home. When she walked in the front door she could hear her mother whispering and giggling on the phone and she tiptoed so that she could hear what she was saying. She was just finishing her conversation, but Jennifer heard her say, "I'll see you tonight, darling," blew a kiss into the phone and hung up.
"Was that daddy you were talking to," she asked impudently, knowing that it wasn't.
Her mother turned around startled, but managed to regain her composure and said, "Why yes it was, honey, he'll be home shortly."
She laughed and walked up to her room while her mother just stood there watching her climb the stairs. It was ludicrous, she thought, her mother had the most handsome, most thoughtful man in the world, it was inconceivable that she could possibly want someone else, no one was as good as her daddy!
She took a long bath, pampering herself and relaxing, then went downstairs to get something for dinner.
"Just fix me a sandwich, Amy, please," she said, "I'm not hungry for a big meal and I want to take it upstairs while I watch television."
She took her plate and went to her room and turned on the television. She could hear the first guests arriving as her father's car pulled up to the house.
"Sorry I'm late, honey," he said to his wife. "I'll take a quick shower and be right down. Why don't you chill some martinis meanwhile." And he ran up the stairs taking two at a time.
"Hi, Jen," he called as he went by her room, "Have a nice day?"
"Yes, daddy, just fine. Did you?" she answered, but he was already in his room and couldn't hear her.
She watched television for hours and listened to the noises coming from downstairs. It sounded as though there must have been twenty people there. Her father usually invited her down to meet the guests, but tonight he hadn't. She could hear men and women laughing and some crude comments being made, but this was typical for a Hollywood party, it was a certain kind of sophistication, she surmised. She began to get curious as to what was going on, so she wrapped her robe around her and tiptoed to the top of the stairs and hid behind the banister. She saw her mother standing in one corner talking to an older man, Henry Jacobs.
He had been a friend of the family for years, but Jennifer had never liked him. Every time he came to the house, since she could remember, he was always patting her on the behind, trying to put his arm around her waist and then moving it up as though it were an accident and trying to get fresh with her. He had made her feel uncomfortable and had tried to tell her father about it many times, but somehow it just sounded silly. When he was with her alone he had made comments about how well she was maturing and how she would be a knock-out when she got older and he felt sorry for the boys, and wished that he were years younger. The comments were harmless enough, but she could tell by the look in his eye when he looked at her that he would have liked to grab her then and there. Just his presence made her skin crawl, so she had tried to be out of the house when he came around from then on.
Her mother was leaning up against him and his hand was resting on her hip and slowly tracing a line up her rib cage and cupped one of her full,round breasts in his hand and squeezed it. Her mother did not move away, but giggled and took his hand and began to lead him towards the stairs.
She gasped and ran back to her room, but left the door slightly ajar so that she could peek out and see where they were going. She saw his hands roaming freely over her mother's body as they climbed the stairs and she wondered where her father was and why he wasn't stopping him. Her mother leaned back against him when they reached the top step and whispered, "Quiet, Jennifer's up here, but she's asleep. Let's use the guest room, no one will come in there."
She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Maybe the articles she had read were true, at least about her mother! The two of them sneaked past her door and opened the door to the guest room. She could hear the rustle of her mother's dress and she wasn't sure whether she had just laid down on the bed and pulled her dress up around her hips or whether she was taking off her clothes. She knew that they hadn't gone in there for a private conversation and her curiosity was becoming unbearable, when she remembered that she could peek in the window from the balcony that connected her room and the guest room.
She hesitated for just a moment then opened her window quietly and tiptoed out onto the balcony. She could hear voices coming from inside.
Her mother was saying, "Don't be in such a rush, darling, you know I like to take my time."
"But you're so lovely, it's so difficult to keep my hands off you, even for a second."
Her mother laughed and said, "Oh Henry, you're so flattering . . . and soooo exciting." The drapes were separated just enough so that she could see the bed which was illuminated by the moon, and she could see that her mother had taken off her dress and was standing there in her brassiere, thin black panties and her nylons. She still had a fine figure, slender, yet firmly rounded, her breasts were full and firm, her hips slightly plump, but not fat She couldn't see Mr. Jacobs, but she knew that he too was undressing, for she could hear the metal of his zipper when he took off his pants, and the buckle of his belt as it hit the floor.
She crouched outside almost afraid to take a breath for fear that they would hear her. A continuous noise filtered through the window to her ears and she heard the creaking of the springs and mattress when their bodies fell heavily on the bed. She could only hear sounds now and barely see the outlines of their bodies. She couldn't tell if they were completely nude or if they still had some clothes on, but it didn't matter, the thought of that awful man even touching her mother made her sick.
She heard a slight gasp, a high-pitched moan and the crinkling of the satin bedspread as she saw the bodies tossing about on the bed. She could not discern what they were saying, but the moans sounded animal-like and passionate, completely abandoned. Every once in a while the voices grew louder and she could hear her mother saying, "Oh yes, darling .. . do it... deeper .. . deeper, that's it," And she knew that Jacobs was buried deep inside her mother, doing what her father should have been doing. She had never had any experience sexually, but she had read books and her father had told her briefly the facts of life, but somehow, even though it was her mother, she found this clandestine love-making vicariously thrilling. She listened with aching ears, hanging on every word she could hear. She had often wondered what it would be like to have a boy on top of her, doing it to her, but had never given it much thought other than that. It sounded as though he were hurting her mother, yet she was begging him for more.
"You're so big . . . sooo big in me . . . yes . . . yes, I can't stand it. Push it deeper in my cunt!"
She wished that she could have a better view of what was happening. The gasps and groans sounded so desperate, so hopelessly lost in passion and she couldn't imagine what would make someone moan like that. The thought of that awful man making love to her mother repulsed her, yet she found it strangely exciting and she could feel a tensing in her loins.
"Is it good," she heard him say hoarsely, "Am I in far enough. Tell me you love it!"
Her mother's answer was a rasping, throaty groan and "Yes . . . ooohhh yes . . . you're so good. God, I love to have you screw me!"
She tried to picture Mr. Jacobs' fat, sloppy body on top of her mother, his fat, thick prick pushing in and out, up and down. The thought of him in a heated, excited passion almost made her want to laugh, the picture in her mind was so funny.
How could mother make love to someone so gross after having daddy, she thought. The bed springs were creaking loudly now and she could hear their bodies bucking up and down on the mattress.
"Fuck me . . . fuck me harder," her mother almost shouted, and she wondered how in the world that fat, grubby man could even get his stomach flat enough to get near a woman!
Her body was tense as she listened, her throat parched and a strange and new feeling was creeping over her body. She let her hand fall to the itching, raging fury that was building between her legs then took it away, knowing that she shouldn't do that, it wasn't right! She found it difficult to keep quiet while they worked out their passion, locked in each other's arms, fondling, whispering, building for the final climax.
Finally she heard the bed creaking and groaning so loudly under their furious, passionate movements that she could hardly distinguish their voices any longer.
She heard Jacobs gasp, "I'm going to cum . . . I'm' going to cum . . . hurry . . . hurry ... I can't wait!"
"Yes . . . yes . . . cum on . . . I'm ready . . . I'm ready too," her mother rasped, and then their voices melded into a series of low deep groans and sputtering.
She waited outside the bedroom window for just a few minutes longer, afraid to move because the room was silent now and she thought they might hear her as she crept back to her room. Finally Mr. Jacobs said, "We'd better get back downstairs," but her mother said, "No, just a few minutes more. I don't get to see you that often, just give me a few more minutes."
She could hear their bodies turning on the bed and quietly slipped back through her bedroom window and into her room. She sat there for a few minutes not quite sure what she should do, but she couldn't stand the thought of her father being hurt, especially by that awful man, so she decided that she should tell him. She went back to the top of the stairs and looked down, but she couldn't find her father, so she went back to her room. She didn't know whether she could stand the look he would have on his face when she told him what she had seen, so she decided that maybe it would be best to write him a note and leave it on his dresser in his room. If she left it in his jewelry case, he would find it that night before he went to bed.
She took out her stationery and wrote him a long note, describing what she had seen, and apologizing for having to tell him like this. She sealed the envelope and walked quietly to her fathers room and opened the door carefully.
She had the door slightly ajar when she heard groans coming from his room, my God, she thought, what could be going on in here too ... in my father's room! She stopped and froze, wanting to pull the door closed, but afraid that whoever was in there would hear her. She could hear muffled laughter, her father's laughter and a woman giggling softly! What was going on! She couldn't believe her father would be doing "it" to another woman, somehow she just couldn't picture her father naked and in bed with a woman ... not even her mother. It seemed so unfair that he would share his love and she felt cheated, but was unable to move away from the door. The woman was groaning louder now, her laughter had become a passion-filled choking sound, almost a sob, and she could hear them tossing furiously on the bed.
"Oooooohhhhh God," her father moaned, and it sounded as if he were in pain. She's hurting him, she thought, I've got to stop her, do something and she started to open the door further when the woman's voice stopped her.
"Yes . . . do it again . . . again like that," she gasped, pleading with her father to do something to her again. It sounded as though they were hurting one another, yet begging for more and she couldn't understand it.
A mild guilt feeling tried to move her away from the scene, but she couldn't make her feet move. She knew what was going on was a private thing between her father and this woman and that she should go back to her room, when she heard another man's voice.
"Hurry up, Carter,", he roared, "I'd like to get some of that before it's all gone!" She couldn't believe her ears! There was another man in the same room watching her father and this woman, waiting his turn with her! She didn't know who the woman was and she really didn't want to know, it all seemed too incredible to believe.
She was only a few yards from the bed and she could hear her father's muted, low groans and strange, wet, sucking sounds drifting through the slightly open door.
"Yes . . . yes . . . suck it harder," her fathers voice begged.
My God, she's taking his penis in her mouth! she almost gasped out loud. She wondered what her father felt like now, it didn't seem possible that he would let a woman take him in her mouth, but he seemed to be begging for more. It didn't seem like her father to beg ... for anything!
She stood breathlessly by the door, debating what to do, feeling her own emotions beginning to build again. She was experiencing that strange, new tightness in her loins again and she shuffled her feet nervously, trying to get rid of it. She moved back against the wall so that she could again see inside the room. The light from the hall shed a thin line of light in the room, but no one seemed to notice as they went on with their shameless love-making. She glanced to one corner of the room and saw her father's agent sitting there in the chair, completely naked, his hard, thick penis clutched in his hand while he watched her father and the woman. His eyes were half-closed as if in a daze while he watched the spectacle, rubbing his rigid member vigorously up and down. She couldn't take her eyes off the size of his hard, jerking organ. She had never seen anything like it in her life, it was the first time. It seemed so huge, so thick and hard and she wondered how any woman could possibly take it inside her. The lewd thought excited her and she stood transfixed, almost afraid to breathe.
She could see the full length of it, the blood red head bulging out like a giant mushroom as his fingers worked the foreskin back and forth on the long shaft. It seemed to glisten in the light, beads of perspiration forming over the entire phallus, so that it shone like some huge, cruel weapon of doom.
His breathing was thick and heavy, labored with anticipation. She could not see the bed that clearly, but she could still hear the sucking noises and she could visualize what was going on. "Oh darling, yes . . . yes, do it to me now, "the woman moaned and she could hear her father moving on the bed. He's going to do it to her between the legs, she thought! No ... no ... he can't, not my father!
She leaned back against the wall fighting her mixed emotions, her hands reaching up against her will and cupping her breasts in her kneading fingers. Her nipples had been tingling, burning and she could no longer resist the temptation to fondle them. Her nipples were swollen with desire and she thought she would go out of her mind from the tightness that was straining down between her trembling legs.
She stood there for several minutes concentrating on her own feelings when a movement in the room caught her attention, and she looked up startled. Her father's agent was getting up from his chair and walking over toward the bed and looked down the two bodies that were entwined there and continued his masturbation next to them.
She tried to move back further into the corner so that he wouldn't see her if he moved to the other side of the bed, but he was too engrossed with what was going on inside to look in the hallway.
Her father had moved up on the woman and was rocking back and forth on his knees, driving his pulsing, rigid penis deep in between her wide spread legs. She paled, feeling the blood rush from her face at the sight. She wondered how it would feel, and secretly wished that it were she in the room with her father, then tried to block the obscene thought from her mind. She wanted to rush into the room, grab her father and pull him off that woman, but instead she just stood there, wanting to cry, to scream, anything to break them up. She could see the woman's hips churning desperately under her father as she moved toward the spasms of orgasm and her father, without changing his rhythm, raised up on one knee and she could see his thick, hard penis pistoning in and out of the open, hair-lined slit between the woman's widely spread legs. The three-quarter view afforded her, all too clearly, a complete awareness of what was going on.
Her own mouth dropped open wide and her hands fell to the vee of her loins and she grasped her own pubic mound fiercely, feeling the heat of her body through the cloth of her robe. She knew her father would never forgive her if he knew she were standing there spying on him, but she couldn't bring herself to go back to her room, not just yet.
She could hear the slapping of their bodies as they joined each other in their desperate, lustful union, their moans becoming louder and deeper.
"Fuck me . . . fuck me . . . deeper . . . harder," the woman choked out as her father thundered into her, driving her surging buttocks deep down into the squeaking mattress.
"Here it comes, baby," her father gasped, and she could see the tensing of his buttocks as he plunged his manhood into the woman's grinding pussy with increased fury.
"Aaagggghhhhh . . . yes . . . it's soooo good," she groaned, her legs flailing out in the air frantically on either side of his pumping body.
They jerked and bucked against each other, groaning and gasping for breath for a seeming eternity and then finally collapsed in exhaustion, spent and satisfied.
She stood there for a few more minutes, still holding herself, then walked quickly and quietly back to her room and crawled under the covers of her bed. She tried to sleep, but she couldn't erase the picture of her father, the woman and her father's agent from her mind. She had been excited by just watching her father do it to that woman and wondered what it would be like if it had been her! If watching had done this to her, having a man inside her would have to be wonderful! She wished that her father had not been the man, it didn't seem right. She didn't want to share him with anyone, she wanted him to love her and only her... it just wasn't fair.
She had pulled her nightgown up around her waist and her fingers fondled the tender, pink lips of her vagina, rubbing softly at first, then with increased pressure. She could feel the muscles in her stomach contract, a tightening grow between her legs with new awakening.
"Mmmmmmmmmmm . . . oooohhhhh," she murmured to herself, feeling her own passion juices beginning to flow. She rubbed the bud of her clitoris until she thought she would scream out with tortured longing.
"I want a man to do it to me," she whispered to herself, her finger manipulations becoming more rapid and more insistent until she could feel herself on the brink of an explosion!
She glanced over at her bureau and stared at the picture of her father. "Oh daddy, I love you so much," she murmured to the photo, and she couldn't forget her wish that she had been that woman in the bedroom!
She had read in her psychology course in school that girls often tended to develop crushes on their fathers, judged their dates in comparison with their fathers and sometimes married men because they reminded them of their fathers. She was sure that she did not have this type of incestuous love for her father, but she did love and she did resent sharing him with anyone else. She worshipped him!
She took her hands away from her vagina for just a moment and ran them lightly over her body and cupped her full, young breasts in each hand, rubbing the erect, swollen nipples until that chill ran through her body once again.
"Yes . . . yes ..." she murmured, the image of her father still clear on her retina even though her eyes were closed. Her fingers worked their way down her body, caressing, tickling every inch of her smooth, supple skin, tracing a teasing line down the curve of her thighs.
Slowly, hesitantly, she separated the slightly moist lips of her vaginal passage and ran one finger gently over the tiny, virginal slit until she could feel herself becoming wetter with desire. She knew that this was wrong, but her inflamed, erotic desire was so great that it had to be satisfied. Gradually she inserted one finger into the soft giving flesh of her cunt, moaning, "Oh yes . . . yes ... do it to me," remembering the woman's words as her father fucked her. "Oh, daddy, do it to me." Secretly now she was pretending that she was that woman and her father's cock was inside her. She tried to change the image of the man who was fucking her in her imagination, but no other man came to her mind. She continued her fingering until she could feel the muscles of her vaginal wall contract tightly and quickly around her finger and she moaned, "Aaaaaaaaggggghhhhh," and she came abruptly, wishing with all her strength that he too had been there.
Then, she lay quietly back on the bed, reveling in her first sexual experience, her first climax. She felt tired, her body felt heavy, and she drifted off into a deep sleep, her momentary happiness marred slightly by an all prevailing feeling of guilt that lurked far down in her young, confused mind.