Family and Friends

"Was that what she claimed?" B asked.

"She didn't claim anything. She didn't get much chance to. Like I said, I thought my luck was in so I stuck my hand down her bikini and found how wet she was. I didn't know about the hat until later.

I undressed her -- not much work -- while she looked at Eric's pictures and I explained why my wife wouldn't mind me fucking her... You don't mind, do you, Darling?" I turned to face Meg.

"If you had to ask that, you'd never have done it." Meg stopped stroking my thigh and patted my cheek. "Anyway, if you're not jealous of my young stud..." She turned away from me and pulled Eric to her for a deep and lingering kiss. Everybody watched. Helen whistled.

"Go Mama!" Our daughter is never subtle.

"Point taken, Darling." I can't express how pleasant it is to live without jealousy. "So I got Katharina as naked as me and took her to bed.

She tastes great. Helen, if you keep your promise to accompany me on the next trip, you won't be disappointed. She's sweet, very submissive and, once she gets permission to do it, is quite kinky."

"What does she look like?" Helen asked.

"There's a cardload of video for you on my little Nikon." I told Helen. "It's in my carry-on bag." I paused in my storytelling while Helen left the room to get my camera.

"I'm glad you had a good time in Costa Rica," Meg took the opportunity to hug my arm while there was a lull in conversation. "But I'm glad you're back too."

"Me too. After dinner, you and I are going to have a very early night." I made no bones about where my attention lay. Meg's outfit was quite revealing and the bits of her I couldn't see, I could easily reach because French knickers have such loose legs.

"Promise?"

"Promise." I buzzed her then got on with eating. My dinner had been going cold while I was talking about Katharina.

Helen came back without the camera but with the SD card, which she slipped into the slot on the side of the big TV on the wall. She was seated beside me again before she pressed the button on the remote controller to play the video clip.

"...Hello Helen. I'm Katharina and I'd like... That is, will you please share your Daddy with me...?" On screen, Katharina introduced herself while burying two fingers two knuckles deep in her pussy.

"Oh my word!" Meg was the first to comment. "She's gorgeous!"

"Whoo whee! Daddy, you have excellent taste." Helen added with evident enthusiasm.

"She's quite into your work, Eric." I pointed out.

"In theory or practice?" Eric asked. He had quite a bit of experience of girls who liked the idea of modelling for him but couldn't do it when the lights and camera were set up.

"Oh, I think she'll be up for it. She practically volunteered for this." I pointed at the screen, where Katharina was masturbating frenetically.

"Daddy fucked me here just before. Oh, Helen... I'd love to lick you while he does that to me again...I'd lick your pussy and your ass for you while Daddy comes inside me, then hope you'd do the same to me... would you like to lick me, Helen?" Katharina continued to finger fuck herself on-screen.

"We'll watch the rest later" Helen pronounced, clicking the TV off. "I want to hear how you landed her."

"She's not a marlin. I was just my usual charming self and she couldn't resist... Much like you, Sweetheart."

"Ooh! You fibber! It was you who did all the resisting. I had to blackmail you into fucking me." Helen wasn't about to let me take the credit for her sins. My darling daughter is anything but ashamed of her shameful secrets. "Mom, tell him not to be mean." She appealed to Meg.

"Parry, we've all heard the story often enough to know that you were blameless and it was my wild and wayward whore of a daughter who seduced you." Meg took Helen's side.

"But Parry did seduce me." B evened things up by taking my side. At least I was getting credit for one seduction.

"Daddy wouldn't have got anywhere with you if I hadn't prepared the way." Helen wanted credit for that too. "I'd already corrupted both of you before you even met."

"Stipulated." I know when I'm losing a battle of words. "But I still like to pretend that B's sweet and innocent."

"Which I am." B asserted.

"Which she is." Eric agreed.

"And before we get too off-topic, we were discussing how I seduced Katharina. Which was easy really. Living in this bordello has taught me just how easy young women can be and how grateful they generally are for the attentions of a man of my experience." I sat back, looking seriously smug.

"And we do appreciate you, Daddy." Helen stroked my erection along the length of my thigh.

"Hands off." Meg slapped Helen's hand away playfully. "Parry's all mine tonight."

"Thank you, Meg." I was too tired to appreciate the girls' attentions. A night with my wonderful wife was what I wanted. "Anyway, I've been in the chair long enough. Helen, B hinted that you've been a bad girl while I was away. Confess and be shrived."

* * * * *

[Helen]

"I had a date with Francis." I began at the beginning.

"A date?" B asked, pointedly.

"Ok, two dates. But the first one is the important one. I made him take me to the opening of the new exhibition."

"And he made a scene." B thought I was telling the story too slowly.

"And he made a scene." I repeated. "He got very upset about the Christabelle butt plug."

"I'm not surprised." Daddy had expressed concerns about that from the get-go.

"He called me a monster and ran out."

"Well Sweetheart, you've wound him up a lot since graduation. Sooner or later, he was bound to snap."

"I know... And I felt really bad about it. I'm not a monster... am I?" Recalling Francis Deerborne's outburst, I felt guilty all over again.

"Not a monster." Daddy patted my thigh. I wanted him to keep his hand there but he didn't. "You're a bad girl, but not a bad person." He asserted.

"I like that. B, remind me to get that on a T shirt." I can always rely on Daddy to cheer me up.

"We'll get three of them printed tomorrow." Kelsey suggested. I noticed that she had her hand inside Eric's pants... And she used to be really innocent.

"Francis forgave you though?" Daddy prompted me to get back to the story. "You said you had two dates with him."

"Oh, he forgave me. We had an... unusual night. It was the first time he called me Helen during sex. And Daddy?... I told him about us." I held my breath waiting for Daddy's reaction.

"Us?"

"That you and I are lovers... That you know what I do... did for a living." Suddenly it all sounded like a very bad idea.

"Good." Daddy reached for me, drawing me close enough to kiss briefly. "I'd happily admit my sins to the whole world, Sweetheart, but they wouldn't understand. I love you and it pains me to have to deny it to the world at large. Francis can't do anything with the information but at least someone out there knows. Someone who understands the desire a beautiful daughter can engender. Someone who knows just what a joy you can be."

"Oh Daddy..." I kissed him this time: longer, harder. We didn't notice the applause from our family. "But it was still naughty to tell on you. I should be punished." I whispered as we held onto each other as best we could without getting up from the table.

"Not tonight. I'm jetlagged and Meg and I are having an early night." He let go of me and straightened up. "How did Francis Deerborne react?"

* * * * *

"Did you have a busy day?" I met Francis for a pre-theatre dinner.

"A busy morning. This afternoon was quiet." Francis pecked my cheek perfunctorily and sat down.

"You don't usually call the day after..." He'd left a message on my phone that he needed to see me tonight.

"I had lunch with Christabelle." Francis said. It explained much.

"Oh. How is Chrissie?" I have no trouble faking real interest. The main difference between a $50 whore and a $5000 whore is not her ability in bed, but her acting.

"Fine. Fine." Francis never liked discussing his daughter with me. "Scotch. Single malt. No ice." He ordered a drink.

"Two." I waved two fingers at the waiter as he left the menus and went to get our drinks.

"Your message said pre-theatre dinner. What are we going to see?" Francis asked over the top of his menu.

"Oh, you'll love it. Antigone."

"Antigone?"

"A twenty-five hundred year old version of Romeo and Juliet. Lots of forbidden love and overbearing fathers with unresolved issues."

"You just can't take your claws out of me, can you?"

"Francis, don't be so sensitive. I've had these tickets for weeks. I was going to go with Daddy but he's in Costa Rica. B very kindly agreed to cancel because you called me this afternoon. You don't have to go if you don't want to. I'll come over after the play so you can fuck me." If all he wanted was his whore, I could be that too.

"I'm sorry." Francis sounded sincere. "I suppose I'm still sensitive about last night."

"So lets have a proper evening out and forget all about last night, until later. I'll be Christabelle and you can be Daddy." I'd always called him Pappy when I was in character, but now he knew about Daddy and me, I felt like using Francis as a surrogate for my incestuous desire too. Quid pro quo, B calls it. It was the first little change in our dynamic as a result of my revelation.

"As you wish... Christbelle." Francis looked right at me, his eyes full of lust.

"Thank you, Daddy." Then, leaning across the table, almost falling out of my dress, I whispered. "I have no underwear on." Letting him hold that mental image a moment, I sat back then stood. "I'm just going to the bathroom. If that waiter turns up, I'll have spaghetti Bolognese please, Daddy." I turned and walked across the restaurant to the rest rooms.

I didn't need to look back to know that Francis eyes never left my backside. I really wasn't wearing any underwear and the dress I'd picked was... short is an understatement.

There was a very real chance, in a room full of people sitting down, that someone would get an eyeful. I personally was looking forward to being in a dark but crowded place with Francis for two hours. In this dress, it would be easy to get him to do inappropriate things to me and I was pretty certain he'd enjoy the frisson of danger, touching up his 'daughter' only feet away from strangers. Nose duly powdered, I returned to the table, practically feeling the heat of Francis' gaze on the hemline of that oh-so-short dress.

"Oops." I unnecessarily drew his attention to the hem as I sat down, letting it ride up enough to show him just how bare I was. I let him look for a moment then laid my napkin in my lap as a fig leaf. "Did you order yet, Daddy?"

"What?... Yes."

"So tell me about Chrissie. What was she wearing today?" Girls are always interested in clothes. So is Francis, but only because he's mentally undressing her.

"That white cashmere sweater you helped me pick out for her birthday." He looked vacant and wistful. "It's very snug but she likes it."

"Snug?" I knew just what he meant but I wanted him to dwell on that a while longer.

"Tight."

"Was she wearing a bra?" Of course she was. Chrissie's a nice girl.

"A pink one. It showed through the wool a little."

"No pokey nipples then." I had pokey nipples and mentioning them drew Francis' eyes to them now. While he was fixated on them, I lowered my voice and added, "I'd love to actually see what Chrissie looks like naked. I'll bet she has lovely nipples. Pale pink and perky."

"Yes..." Francis was still target locked on my nipples but the waiter was approaching.

"Here's dinner." I snapped him back to reality.

"Oh... Good." Francis looked away. The waiter must have noticed he looked flushed though. "More wine?" He picked up the bottle he'd ordered and poured me another half a glassful.

"Thank you, Daddy." I said, for the waiter's benefit. Then, to the waiter, as he placed a plate in front of me, "Thank you." Our waiter noticed my nipples too. I do like being the centre of attention.

We ate in comparative silence, Francis chewing his steak while I used spaghetti to pander to his oral fixation. Lots of people avoid spaghetti when they're dressed up because its potentially messy but it can be very sexy stuff. Thin, saucy strands of pasta rapidly disappearing between pursed lips. Even the occasional splashes of tomato sauce weren't a problem. The front of my dress was so little fabric and so much skin that the splashes always ended up on me, not my dress. Francis pointed them out once or twice and I dabbed at them then licked the errant sauce off my fingertip. It's all sexy. I could read Francis like a book -- a dirty book. He was imagining having the privacy to lick up those little splashes of sauce.

We had time, so I ordered dessert: Profiteroles. Eating them with my fingers, I probed them with my tongue, licking out all the whipped cream, holding Francis' gaze the while. When I'd finished, my fingers were sticky with chocolate. Reaching across to Francis, I offered them to him to lick. He quickly and surreptitiously drew one digit between his lips and sucked hard on it.

By the time we left the restaurant, after another restroom trip to refresh my make-up and make sure my fingers were chocolate free, Francis was trying to stand behind me to hide the conspicuous consequence of my teasing. He was going to have a hard time -- in every sense -- spending two hours in a theatre.

"Thank you for dinner, Daddy." On the sidewalk, I turned and closed the gap, pressing my hips against his bulge and hugging him. I didn't kiss him because I'd only just applied this lipstick and didn't want to leave it all over him just yet.

"Taxi?"

"It's only two blocks. Lets walk." I took his arm and we strolled down to the theatre.

"Were you telling the truth this morning?" Francis finally got around to the thing that had been on his mind all day.

"About Parry? Yes."

"How... How long?" Francis asked.

"Since the end of my freshman year. Would you like to hear how it started?"

"Yes."

"I got very... adventurous as soon as I got to college. One taste of freedom and I wanted to drink the whole cup down in one. Until then, I'd had three boyfriends in high school and let only the last one get further than a hand up my skirt. It wasn't that I didn't want to do stuff: I just didn't want to do it with the boys I'd grown up with. They were all so... immature.

These days I like immature... but I'm older and I have so much to teach them." I thought briefly of all those frat boys I'd made men of and felt my insides squeeze. Yes, I've grown to appreciate immaturity. "Back in my freshman year, I tried college boys, who were certainly more grown-up, but it didn't take long to realize that there must be more to sex than just lying back with my legs apart and some guy pushing in and out for a few minutes before coming and going to sleep. I was faking half my orgasms... and you know how easily I come."

"Do you still fake them?" Francis asked. Clearly thinking that I must, sometimes.

"Never... Think about that, Francis. I've never faked an orgasm with a client. Now think about all the things we've done and all the orgasms I've had. Who's the biggest pervert out of the two of us?"

"I don't like that word." Francis got defensive.

"Pervert? Francis... Francis... You've spent about half a million dollars pretending to have your own daughter shit in your mouth, not counting the cost of all those Belgian chocolates. But I'm a bigger pervert by far because I not only get off on your fantasies of Christabelle, but I really do fuck my daddy, and I'm a Harvard graduate with a boyfriend who's practically a billionaire but I still enjoy whoring. So I guess I answered my own question.

I'm the biggest pervert out of the two of us."

"I don't pretend Christabelle is... defecating... Its always chocolates."

"Even in your head? Wow! Francis! I had you all wrong all these years."

"You were telling me how you got into bed with Parry." Francis changed the subject.

"I was... Harvard boys were so vanilla that I started to think men weren't for me and started looking at girls that way. When B looked back... Well, you've met her... How many people could resist? I didn't even try. I seized the day, took the lead and seduced her, pretending I knew a lot more about what I was doing than I really did. I'd watched a fair few lesbian porn films, but I'd never actually kissed a girl before the night I got B drunk enough. God! What a night we had. It changed everything. We could do no wrong. Everywhere we touched each other felt so good. Clumsy and inebriated, we still made love like angels and came so much we both passed out more than once. B's finger was the first thing ever to go up my ass. Her tongue was the second thing. B was my first and is still my favourite girl.

But I still found myself looking at boys. B and I shared a few, hoping that having two girls in the same bed would encourage a little more imagination. It didn't though, until we met Eric. You know Eric has always had trouble getting girls to fuck him? He's too big: Much too big for most girls. I wonder if Christabelle knew that when she was pursuing him so ardently and sticking pins in effigies of me and B because we were in her way. What do you think, Francis? Did your daughter crave a cock so big most girls just say no?"

"I don't want to think about that. Go on with your story." Francis now had an elephant in the room. He couldn't help thinking about it, now it was mentioned.

"Eric was amazing. B and I had to take up fisting each other just to get used to taking something that big. Eric loved that though: watching two gorgeous girls stretching each other's pussies so he could fuck them properly. It used to hurt when he got really excited and fucked me too hard, but I discovered I liked the pain. I loved nothing better than to have him hammering into me until I could barely stand to go to the bathroom and needed B to cuddle me all the next day because I was so sore. That hasn't happened for years because I got used to him. These days I can take anything Eric's got in the tank, and then some.

It took us weeks of private practice before we offered Eric our backsides. We both wanted to but B got there first."

"How did you practice for that?"

"Fingers first, a cucumber, finally a wine bottle: The taper of the neck made it perfect. We used to race each other. That's how B won the right to go first. She'd got lower down the bottle than me. I didn't mind. B and I are never jealous of each other. Never have been."

"And where does Parry come into this story?"

"Patience, Francis... Anyway, Eric was a great fuck-buddy but still not enough for me. I still wanted more excitement from my sex life. I got a job as a webcam girl: You know the ones? They sit around in their underwear trying to tempt men into paying five bucks a minute to have them take off the underwear and do very rude things to themselves? Sort of e-hooking?"

"I know what you mean."

"Good. Anyway, I enjoyed that for a semester, spending my evenings showing off for an appreciative, if anonymous, audience. The trouble was that those guys still always wanted pretty much the same thing. I shoved all sorts of things up my ass for their five bucks a minute but that was all they really wanted.

I had some regular customers though and one was actually quite nice. He'd never ask me to do anything. He used to turn up every evening and let me do whatever I liked. He just wanted to watch me come for real and didn't mind if it cost him a hundred a night to watch me do it.

At the end of my freshman year, I quit the camgirl business because it too had got boring. So I started escort work... whoring. You were one of my very first clients. Remember that first time?"

"I remember."

"You called me Christabelle and I immediately twigged who she was. She and I were already at war then. It was so exciting for me to find out how her father felt about her and how he dealt with those perverse desires. I came so hard I probably ruined that bed. You taught me a lot about myself that night, Francis."