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                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
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--------------------------------------------------------
Copyright (c) 2007 Nick Scipio. All rights reserved. 
This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit 
without the written permission of the author. It may be 
freely distributed with this disclaimer attached. 
--------------------------------------------------------

Breakdown
by Nick Scipio (nick@nickscipio.com)

***

An unhappy husband whose wife takes him for granted 
falls into a situation beyond his understanding that 
turns is uninteresting life into something intense and 
sexually fulfilling. (MF, inc, exh, affair, cheat)

***

Author Notes: This story is intended as ADULT 
entertainment. It contains material of an adult, 
explicit, SEXUAL nature. If you are offended by 
sexually explicit content or language, please DO NOT 
read any further. 

This story is a work of fiction. All characters and 
events portrayed in it are fictional, and any 
resemblance to real people or incidents is purely 
coincidental. The author does not necessarily condone 
or endorse any of the activities described. 

***

PART I 

Henry opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. 
Morning sunlight filtered into the room through the 
sheer curtains on the double doors. He glanced at them 
and blinked. The doors led to a balcony with stone 
balustrades, which overlooked a yard that made him 
think of a Roman villa. 

The house -- Henry wouldn't call it a "mansion" -- had 
been built by some idiot movie star in the Seventies. 
It was a cross between the Playboy mansion and Caesars 
Palace, complete with cypress trees, a marble fountain, 
and a "pool villa" that was bigger than the house Henry 
grew up in. 

Personally, he thought it was ostentatious. His wife 
liked it--it was her idea of classical. It was also the 
lifestyle she'd grown accustomed to. With a frown, he 
rolled the phrase over in his mind and imagined a high-
priced divorce lawyer using exactly those words to 
squeeze more money out of him. He sighed with a mixture 
of disgust and resignation. 

After a moment he glanced at his wife, asleep beside 
him. Even after three children and twenty-plus years of 
marriage, Leanne was a beautiful woman. He'd been 
dreaming about her and he had an erection. 
Unfortunately, he knew better than to wake her. They 
hadn't had sex in more than a year, and only then 
because she'd been drunk after a party. She always had 
some excuse to spurn him, and he wouldn't force himself 
on her. 

The lack of sex was frustrating, but he smirked at one 
of the few thoughts that gave him comfort: he still 
looked like he had when he was twenty-five. He had more 
gray in his hair and a bit more weight around his 
middle, but Leanne had to work hard to keep her figure. 
Her blonde hair came from an expensive salon, and only 
her plastic surgeon knew about the nips and tucks. 

Well, Henry thought, I know about the nips and tucks 
too. He paid for everything, of course. Why wouldn't 
he? She was his wife, after all. 

But aren't wives supposed to have sex with their 
husbands? he wondered sarcastically. At least once in a 
while? Unfortunately, Leanne was like a Tiffany lamp: 
too expensive and too beautiful to touch. 

Unless you're her personal trainer, Henry thought with 
a teeth-grinding snarl. Or her decorator... Or her 
travel agent... Or the father of another pageant 
contestant... Or... The list went on. 

None of the affairs had been for long, but Henry still 
resented them. He'd even paid a private investigator to 
follow her for several months. He had proof of several 
of her affairs--pictures, videos, and even hotel 
receipts--locked away in his safe. 

Since then, he'd had a security system installed in the 
house, including hidden "nanny cams." Leanne didn't 
know about them, but the tiny video cameras sent their 
feeds to a locked cabinet in Henry's private wing of 
the house. Digital tape recorded every infidelity. 

Sometimes Henry watched the video. Leanne was still as 
wild and uninhibited as she'd always been, just not 
with him. At some point in their marriage, she'd lost 
interest in him. He remained faithful to her, although 
he couldn't explain why, even to himself. He'd had 
plenty of opportunities over the years, but he'd never 
taken them. 

He didn't know why he didn't divorce her, either. She'd 
try to take half his money--or worse, half his company-
-but with overwhelming proof of her infidelity, she'd 
be lucky to walk away with the clothes on her back. She 
probably wouldn't contest the divorce in the first 
place, though. She wouldn't want the scandal. 

Unfortunately, Henry had said "till death do us part," 
and he meant it. So he stayed. And he paid for her 
exorbitant lifestyle. He even tolerated her affairs, 
albeit with a silent, seething resentment. 

He threw back the covers and swung his legs over the 
side of the bed. His erection had long since 
disappeared. He padded into the bathroom and shed his 
monogrammed silk pajamas. They were a gift from Leanne, 
of course. She wanted him to look the part of the 
wealthy industrialist. 

He snorted. "Wealthy industrialist," indeed! He owned a 
company which had survived the downsizing of 
California's Military-Industrial Complex, nothing more. 
In addition to his company, he personally held patents 
on a dozen processes used in the aerospace industry. If 
anything, he was a successful businessman and inventor. 

The US government wasn't going to stop building 
missiles or launching satellites anytime soon, so 
Henry's patents alone would earn millions of dollars a 
year for years to come. Even Leanne couldn't spend that 
much money, and their children would be wealthy, 
without ever working a day in their lives. 

Henry turned on the shower and shook his head in 
frustration. Of his three children, only one of them 
deserved the money. The irony was, she wanted it the 
least. His son, Chad, was twenty- four, single, and an 
entertainment lawyer. He was also a spoiled playboy, 
who partied with the Hollywood glitterati. As far as 
Henry was concerned, they were a bunch of shallow, 
undisciplined sybarites. 

His oldest daughter was almost as bad. At twenty-two, 
Kacy had two goals in life: to become Miss USA, and to 
marry a good- looking, wealthy... somebody. She didn't 
really care what her future husband did for a living --
if anything-- as long as he was handsome and rich. At 
the moment, she was dating a semi-literate race car 
driver. Henry snorted in disgust as he lathered 
himself. 

How had he gone wrong? How had he raised two children 
who were such... jackals? 

He hadn't, that's how. 

Chad was a male version of his mother, narcissistic and 
completely amoral. And Kacy had taken up her mother's 
crown in the beauty queen business. 

Henry shook his head with disbelief. How had he gone 
wrong? 

His one consolation was that he hadn't gone wrong with 
his youngest daughter. For whatever reason, Aly was an 
actual human being. She had more goodness and decency 
than Chad and Kacy combined, and she actually used the 
brain God had given her. At nineteen, she'd just 
finished her first year of college. 

Henry had tried to convince her to attend one of his 
alma maters, Rice or Caltech, but she'd had her sights 
set on Virginia Tech. He thought she was going for the 
wrong reasons--she liked the football team--but the 
school did have a solid engineering program. It might 
not be up to the standards of Caltech, but it was a far 
cry from the local community college. So he'd 
reluctantly agreed, and Aly had gone to school 2,500 
miles away. 

The distance had been the hardest part. He and Aly were 
close -- too close, he sometimes thought--and they 
traded e-mails almost every day. They talked on the 
phone at least once a week, and she e-mailed pictures 
as often as she could. In a week, she'd be home for the 
summer, and he'd be able to spend as much time with her 
as he wanted. She had a six-week internship with a 
company in Thousand Oaks, but the rest of the summer 
was hers. 

Thinking about her always made him smile, and he 
finished his shower in a much better mood. Still 
smiling, he rushed to get ready. He had a busy day at 
the office, and he wanted to beat the traffic. He 
dressed in a suit and tie, and barely spared a glance 
for Leanne on the way out of the bedroom. 

She was still asleep, of course. She wouldn't rise 
until well after ten o'clock. Her personal trainer was 
due at eleven, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. 
Henry clenched his jaw and swallowed a snarl. 
Fortunately, his cell phone rang as soon as he turned 
out of the driveway. As he talked to the East Coast 
client, he forgot all about Leanne and her unfaithful, 
self- absorbed, hedonistic, manipulative... 

----- 

Henry finished his conversation as he pulled into his 
parking space. He snapped the phone closed and strode 
into the building. His office was a short walk from the 
main atrium, and his assistant looked up when he walked 
into the reception area. 

"Good morning, Dr. Adair," she said. 

Henry grinned at her. She normally called him by his 
first name, so she must've been in a playful mood. She 
was the only person who called him "doctor." Everyone 
else in the company called him Mr. Adair, or simply 
Hank, if they knew him well enough. But she'd been his 
assistant for nearly ten years, and she'd earned the 
right to tease him. 

"Mornin', Jayne," he said. Then he smiled with inner 
amusement -- even after three decades on the coast, he 
still reverted to his Texas drawl sometimes. 

"I put your breakfast on your desk," she said as she 
followed him into his office suite. 

Pomegranate juice and a bran muffin, he thought 
bleakly. Great. He missed the days when he could have a 
sausage biscuit, or even a breakfast burrito. But the 
doctor had told him to watch his cholesterol, so Jayne 
relentlessly fed him healthy food. He did sneak an 
occasional cheeseburger for lunch, but only when she 
wasn't paying attention, which wasn't often. 

"Raytheon is having problems," she said. She clicked 
his mouse to bring up his e-mail. While he ate 
breakfast, she summarized more than twenty e-mails. As 
she did, she bent over his arm, and he had a difficult 
time not glancing at her breasts. Worse, her perfume 
made him think of very unprofessional things. He 
ruthlessly pulled his mind back to the task at hand: 
problems with one of their major clients. 

"Thanks, Jayne," he said when she fell silent and 
straightened. He peered up at her for a moment, 
studying her face. She wasn't a classic beauty like 
Leanne, but she was pretty. Her good looks were the 
reason he'd hired her in the first place, although he 
quickly discovered her preternatural ability to 
remember things-- from names and faces to facts and 
figures. She was also loyal, which he valued nearly as 
much as her other abilities. 

He chuckled to himself. Even with her professional 
skills, he still appreciated her good looks. She was 
shorter than Leanne, but just as busty. He'd never 
asked, but he was sure her breasts were real. And the 
rest of her figure suited her perfectly. She was a bit 
of a clothes horse -- Henry paid her very well--but she 
was always professional. Sexy as hell, perhaps, but 
still professional. 

When the silence drew out, she arched an eyebrow, 
teasing and serious at the same time. 

Completely out of the blue, he asked, "When did you 
know it was time to get a divorce?" 

She blinked in surprise. 

"Sorry," he said hastily. "Forget I said anything." 

She looked at him for another moment, inscrutable. 
She'd been divorced for at least eight years, and Henry 
didn't know why he'd even asked the question. 

"Really," he said. "Forget I asked." 

"I guess I knew from the beginning," she said at last. 
"I liked the idea of being married more than the 
reality." 

He nodded. 

"And when Jeff started talking about kids..." She 
shrugged. "Are you and Leanne...?" 

He shook his head, a bit too quickly. He was suddenly 
embarrassed. He and Jayne knew a lot about each other's 
personal lives -- it was inevitable, especially since 
they worked so closely--but there were some things he 
didn't share, like Leanne's infidelity. Jayne probably 
knew (or suspected, at any rate), but they didn't speak 
about it openly. 

"Okay," she said at last. Her smile held a touch of 
melancholy. After a moment she turned to business. 
"After the Raytheon crisis, top priorities are the 
messages from Colonel Musgrave, Senator Tasker's 
office, and Dr. Mueller." 

"Right," he said. His own smile held a bit of 
melancholy as well. 

----- 

Henry ignored the beep of another call. He didn't even 
take the cell phone from his ear to see who was 
calling. His engineering manager was heading to 
Raytheon's facility in Arizona, and the call had 
already taken longer than it should have. Henry was 
growing annoyed with the man. 

"Look, Bob," he said at last, "you're in charge of 
engineering. I understand that Raytheon is working with 
a new process, but when problems do come up, it's your 
job to fix 'em. Got it?" 

The phone was silent for several seconds. "Got it," Bob 
said at last. "Sorry Hank." 

"I'm sorry about your fishing trip, but you know how 
much money we're talking about here." The Raytheon 
contract ran well into eight figures, with quite a bit 
more if the new guidance technology increased accuracy, 
which Henry knew it would. 

"Yeah, I know," Bob said. Then he seemed to brace 
himself. "I'll get to the bottom of it and make sure 
the Raytheon guys know what they're doing." 

"I know you will, Bob." Henry's phone beeped again, but 
he ignored it. "That's why I'm sending you instead of 
trusting this to anyone else." 

The conversation turned to details, and they talked for 
another five minutes. Henry sighed when he finally 
snapped the phone closed. His desk phone rang. The 
blinking light showed an internal call. 

"What?" he snapped. 

"Your daughter's on line three," Jayne said smoothly. 

"Sorry, Jayne," he said. "I didn't mean to bite your 
head off." 

"I know." 

He smiled. "What would I do without you?" 

"Go bankrupt and have your family disown you," she said 
with aplomb. 

"That might not be so bad," he muttered, thinking of 
Leanne and his oldest children. 

Jayne must have heard him. "It's Aly on line three," 
she said. 

He perked up immediately. "Okay. Thanks." He stabbed 
the button for line three. "Hi, sweetheart." 

"Is it a good time?" Aly said. "I tried calling your 
cell phone, but you didn't answer." 

"Sorry," he said. "I was on another call. An important 
one." He frowned at the memory, but then took a deep 
breath and forced a smile. "What can I do for you?" 

"I need help, Dad," she said frankly, and Henry sat 
forward. 

----- 

"Jayne," Henry bellowed, ignoring the intercom. 

"You don't have to shout," she said when she appeared 
in the door. "I'm right here." 

"Book me on the next flight to Blacksburg, Virginia," 
he said. "And have a rental car waiting at the airport. 
Also, call U-Haul, or Ryder, or whoever, and rent a 
truck for a one-way trip." 

"Are you on a white knight errand?" she asked, smiling 
wryly. 

"My little girl needs help." 

Jayne leaned against the doorframe. "What happened?" 

"Her car died and she doesn't have a way to get home 
from school. The dealership told her it would be two 
weeks before they'd have the parts. Damned Euro-trash 
imports!" 

She rolled her eyes. It was one of his frequent rants. 

"Anyway," he continued, "it's a good time for me to go." 

"To escape, you mean," she interrupted. 

"And I'm..." He turned sheepish. "Am I that obvious?" 

She smiled fondly and shook her head. 

"Yeah, I guess I'm taking an impromptu vacation. But I 
won't really be out of contact. I'll have my laptop and 
my cell phone. Bob can handle Raytheon, and you can 
handle everything here." 

She nodded. 

"So I'm going to rescue my little girl." 

"That's what daddies are for," she said. Aly was like a 
kid sister to her. "I'll make all the arrangements," 
she added. "Do you want me to drive you to the 
airport?" 

He considered for a moment, but then shook his head. He 
didn't want to inconvenience her. Besides, he needed 
her running things in the office. "I'll take a limo," 
he said. 

She nodded. "I'll have the driver meet you at your 
house." 

With a nod and a smile, he turned back to his computer. 
He had a dozen e-mails to send before he left. He'd 
also have to tell Leanne, but she wouldn't care. She 
and Kacy had a pageant in San Diego. He vaguely 
recalled that it was part of the Miss California USA 
competition, but he didn't give it a second thought. 

----- 

Virginia was hot. Hot and sticky. Henry had already 
worked up a sweat just walking to his rental car. Five 
minutes later, with the air conditioner on full blast, 
he was headed toward Blacksburg and the Virginia Tech 
campus. He called Aly once he was sure of his bearings. 
She gave him directions to her dorm, but he remembered 
the place from when he'd brought her to school. 

She met him in the lobby and his eyes lit up when he 
saw her. Unlike Leanne and Kacy -- who were salon 
blondes -- Aly was dark- haired. And while Leanne and 
Kacy were busty--courtesy of very expensive boob jobs -
- Aly was petite and natural. She was nothing like her 
mother or sister, and Henry liked that just fine. 

She hugged him tight. "Thanks for coming. I could've 
driven home by myself, but..." 

"Nonsense," he said. "That's what fathers are for." 

She looped her arm through his and leaned her head on 
his shoulder. "Thanks, Dad. You're the best." 

----- 

They picked up the rental truck and returned to the 
dorm, where they loaded Aly's things. Henry couldn't 
imagine how she'd fit so much stuff in her tiny dorm 
room. It filled nearly half of the small truck. 

After she checked out of the dorm, they had dinner and 
spent the night in a hotel. Her car was still with the 
dealer, but Henry arranged for them to send it cross-
country when the repairs were complete. The service 
manager had balked at Henry's "request," but the 
dealership's general manager understood the unspoken 
threat in Henry's voice. 

The next morning, Henry and Aly were on the road by 
seven o'clock, with sausage biscuits and hot coffee. 
Henry cringed at Jayne's imagined reproach, but he 
savored the buttery biscuit and willed her to silence. 

"What're you smirking at?" Aly asked. 

He felt his cheeks heat. "Smirking?" 

"Yeah. Just now. You were smirking." 

"I shouldn't be eating this," he admitted. 

"Because of your cholesterol?" 

He nodded. 

In the blink of an eye, she snatched the biscuit and 
began rolling down her window. 

"Aly, no!" 

She tossed it out, wrapper and all. 

"Aly, that was my breakfast!" 

"We'll stop for an early lunch," she said, unperturbed. 

He glared at her. 

"You know Jayne's going to ask me how you ate," she 
said. "And I won't lie to her." 

"You could've lied this once," he muttered, half 
serious, half joking. 

"No, I couldn't 've. If you won't take care of 
yourself, the women in your life will just have to do 
it for you." 

----- 

The trip through Tennessee was uneventful. After more 
than ten hours on the road, they stopped for the night 
in Memphis. They asked the hotel clerk for adjoining 
rooms, and opened the door between them. 

Henry checked his e-mail while Aly took a shower. He'd 
just finished replying to the urgent messages when she 
walked through the adjoining door. She wore a towel 
around her head and a baggy Hokies T-shirt. Out of the 
corner of his eye, he saw her toss a bottle of lotion 
onto the bed and flounce after it. He glanced at her, 
but then immediately looked away. She wasn't wearing 
panties, and he'd caught a glimpse of her... 

He felt an all-too-familiar stab of desire, but he 
quickly suppressed it. He cleared his throat. "Um... 
sweetheart," he said tentatively. "This isn't your 
dorm." 

Even out of the corner of his eye, he could see her 
confusion. 

"Shouldn't you put on some shorts or something?" 

She laughed. "Oh, Dad." 

What's that supposed to mean? he wondered. 

"It's not like you're going to attack me or anything," 
she added. But she didn't cover herself, and Henry 
resolutely stared at his laptop. 

"No," he said, "but you shouldn't walk around half-
naked, either." 

"I'm not 'half-naked.'" 

"Aly," he said, his voice level, "I can see your... you 
know." 

"My what, Dad?" she teased. 

He cleared his throat again. "You know what I'm talking 
about. 
And I'm not going to turn around till you put on some 
shorts." 

"All right." She hopped off the bed and returned to her 
own room. "If I'd known you were going to be such a 
prude," she shouted back, "I'd 've worn a hoodie and 
sweats." She returned a moment later, wearing a pair of 
running shorts instead. "I was finished with my legs 
anyway." 

She pulled off her T-shirt and Henry almost gave 
himself whiplash as he turned to face his computer. 

----- 

Later that night, Henry lay awake in bed. Every time he 
closed his eyes, he saw Aly's pussy. Her lips were 
smooth and hairless, and he wondered if she shaved the 
rest. As soon as the thought popped into his head, he 
suppressed it in a wave of guilt. 

Fathers do not think of their daughters that way, he 
told himself. 

Leanne had her pubic hair waxed. She kept a little 
strip above her slit, but the rest was bare. She didn't 
even bother to hide her body from him. It was just one 
way she tormented him, and he hated her for it. 
Personally, he liked more hair than just the strip, but 
that was the style these days. Besides, he'd be happy 
with any pussy he could get. 

Except my daughter's, he added hastily. 

He tormented himself for another ten or fifteen 
minutes. When he realized that he had an erection, he 
felt even guiltier. He rolled over and tried to go to 
sleep, but his hard-on wouldn't go away. He kept seeing 
Aly's smooth pussy in his mind, or her breasts, so firm 
and round and... 

Stop it! he cried silently. Stop it, stop it, stop it! 

He punched the pillow and tried to get settled. 
Eventually, his erection subsided and he fell into a 
fitful, dreamless sleep. 

----- 

Aly left the suite door open in the morning. Worse, she 
kept walking past it as she packed her small suitcase. 
She was nude, of course, and Henry did his best to keep 
his eyes focused on his laptop. He began pounding out 
e-mails, venting his sexual frustration on his 
computer. 

Before he realized what was happening, he felt Aly 
behind him. Fortunately, she was dressed. She rubbed 
his shoulders and he began to relax. 

"Do you want a sausage biscuit for breakfast?" she 
asked. 

He looked up and felt her shrug off his unspoken 
question. 

"We're on vacation," she said. "I won't tell." 

He smiled. The old Aly was back, the girl he loved, 
rather than the sex kitten flashing her father. "Sure, 
sweetheart," he said. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on 
the cheek. "I love you, Dad." 

"I love you too, sweetheart." 

"Now c'mon," she said. "Let's stop by McDonald's on the 
way out of town." 

He smiled and closed his laptop. 

----- 

For the next two hours, they talked about everything in 
the world, from engineering courses to music to boys. 
Or, as Aly corrected him, "men." He didn't like to 
think of her dating men instead of boys, but she wasn't 
a little girl anymore. 

She told him about dating an English professor -- a man 
fifteen years her senior -- and Henry even managed to 
hide his disapproval. Fortunately, the relationship 
didn't last, since she didn't want a long-term 
commitment. Then she told him about one of the 
engineering professors. He'd been married and older 
still, but she ended their relationship after only a 
month. 

"What about guys your age?" Henry finally asked. 

She shrugged indifferently. "They're boys," she said. 
"They only care about one thing--getting into my pants-
-but most of 'em wouldn't know what to do if they got 
there." She shrugged again. "I just like older guys. 
Men." She looked at him sidelong. "I wonder why." 

Henry felt his face flush, and he concentrated on the 
road. He tried not to think about her comment, but he 
wasn't entirely successful. He did manage to discreetly 
re-arrange his erection, but it wouldn't go away, no 
matter how hard he tried to ignore it. 

They fell silent for the next twenty miles. He didn't 
know what she was trying to do, but he couldn't get her 
out of his mind. He told himself--over and over--that 
fathers didn't think of daughters "that way." He had a 
difficult time convincing himself. 

They stopped for lunch at the Arkansas-Oklahoma border. 
Aly ordered a chef's salad, while Henry ordered a 
cheeseburger and French fries. She gave him a sharp 
look, but he said, "Vacation, right?" 

She relented a moment later, and reached across the 
table to pat his hand. He felt an electric tingle and 
immediately looked away. Aly merely giggled and stole 
one of his French fries. 

"Oh, Dad," she said with a sigh. 

They finished their meal in relative silence, but Henry 
couldn't keep his eyes from her. She wasn't wearing 
much makeup, and she had her hair pinned up. Still, she 
looked beautiful. She was wearing a halter top--without 
a bra--and he could clearly see her small nipples. He 
tried not to stare, but she caught him once and he 
turned bright red. 

After lunch, he was glad to get back on the road. Aly 
wasn't built like her mother, but her lithe figure 
accented what breasts she did have. Unfortunately, she 
turned in her seat and sat with her back against the 
door. She rested her thigh on the seat, and her shorts 
were loose enough that he could almost see... 

He gripped the wheel and stared straight ahead. Out of 
the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Aly grinning 
at him. 

----- 

The drive across Oklahoma was mostly uneventful, and 
Henry kept his mind on business. When he had good cell 
phone service, he made a few calls, and got updates 
from Jayne about the situation with Raytheon. 

When they neared the Texas border, the truck started 
grinding each time Henry let off the accelerator. Aly 
took out the map. They decided to stop for the night in 
Amarillo. It was the next big town, and they could have 
a mechanic look at the truck. 

Unfortunately, the grinding grew worse. When the truck 
gave a final lurch, Henry gripped the steering wheel. 
He might not be a mechanical engineer, but he knew the 
sound of metal on metal when he heard it. The 
interstate was straight and flat, but it was also full 
of 18-wheelers traveling eighty miles an hour. He 
looked for a place to pull over. 

The transmission gave a final squeal and the engine 
died. 

The steering grew heavy and Henry aimed for the 
shoulder. An air horn bellowed as a truck barreled 
past. He turned on the hazard blinkers and sat back, 
his shoulders suddenly hot with tension. 

"Wow," Aly said. "That was close." 

Henry nodded wordlessly. Then he flipped open his cell 
phone. It didn't have a signal. "Try yours," he said. 

Aly opened her phone, but then shook her head. 

"Well," he said, resigned, "I guess we're walking." 

They shouldered their bags and started walking toward 
the town ahead. A battered old tow truck passed them 
about twenty minutes later. It pulled to the shoulder 
and waited for them in a cloud of dust. 

"Is that your truck broke down back there?" the driver 
asked, hooking a thumb behind him. 

Henry nodded. 

"I can't tow it with this rig," the driver said, "but I 
can give you a ride to town. That's where I'm goin'." 

"That'd be great," Henry said. "Thanks." 

"I'm Tyler," the driver introduced himself. 

"Hank," Henry said. "And this is my daughter, Aly." 

"Pleased to meet ya." 

They made small talk during the drive. The town was 
called Lela, and Tyler owned the only garage in town. 

"Sorry I can't tow your truck tonight," he said. "My 
main tow truck's on the rack." He pointed to a brown 
cardboard box on the dash. "Fuel pump." 

Henry nodded. 

"I'll have it fixed tomorrow, 'bout midmorning," Tyler 
said. "If you'd like, you can call Moneymaker's Towing 
in Shamrock," he continued. "They'll charge you for the 
trip out here, in addition to the tow, but I won't be 
able to look at your truck till I get mine off the rack 
anyway. You can have Moneymaker's tow you back to 
Shamrock, though." He shrugged. 

"Will you be able to fix our truck once you get it to 
your garage?" Henry asked. 

"Won't know till I look at it." 

"Fair enough." 

"Do you want to call Moneymaker's?" Tyler asked. "I can 
give you the number." 

Henry looked at his watch. It was nearly nine o'clock. 
He had an emergency number for the rental company, but 
he decided to deal with them in the morning. "Do you 
have a hotel in town?" he asked. Tyler gave him an 
appraising look. It wasn't a puzzled look, though, 
which raised Henry's opinion of the man. 

"Sure," he said at last. "We have the old Grand. It's 
not very modern, but it's clean." 

"Then I think we'll spend the night," Henry said. "If 
you can tow the truck in the morning..." 

Tyler nodded. "I'll drop you off at the hotel and give 
you a call when I'm ready in the morning. Should be 
nine or ten o'clock. A'ight?" 

"Sounds good," Henry said. He pulled out his wallet. 
"How much do I owe you for the ride to town?" 

"No charge." 

"Are you sure?" 

Tyler snuffled and nodded. "Wouldn't be able to call 
myself a Christian if I'd left you there on the 
interstate." He tipped his hat. "See you in the 
morning." 

Henry thanked him again and then shut the truck's door. 
It pulled away with a cloud of dust. 

The Lela Grand Hotel was clean, but small and dated. It 
must've been built in the Twenties, and it hadn't been 
renovated since. It looked like something out of a 
movie, with faded red carpet and battered wood 
paneling. The manager perked up and smiled as they 
approached the desk. 

Probably the owner, Henry thought. "I'd like two rooms 
for the night," he said aloud. "I don't suppose you 
have adjoining rooms?" 

"Sure do," the man said. He had Henry sign the 
register--an honest-to-God paper register--and swiped 
Henry's credit card through a reader. The device 
chirred as it dialed. Then a busy signal blared. "Ah, 
that happens all the time," the manager said. "You look 
like the trustworthy type, though. I'll just make an 
imprint of your card and we'll run it through when you 
check out. Is that okay?" 

"Fine," Henry said. 

The manager handed over two keys--genuine brass keys, 
with faded plastic fobs. "Rooms 6 and 8," he said, "at 
the top of the stairs, to your right. Do you need help 
with your bags?" 

Henry shook his head. The hotel might be quaint, but 
the manager was polite, and Henry couldn't ask for 
more, especially in the middle of nowhere. 

The rooms were just as dated as the lobby. The TVs were 
fairly modern, but the phones were old single-line 
clunkers. Henry threw his suitcase and laptop on the 
bed. It squeaked as they landed. A moment later, Aly 
knocked on the adjoining door. He unlocked it and swung 
it open. 

"Nice place, huh?" she said. She was serious. "It's 
kinda cool, isn't it?" 

"It's not what I'm used to," he said, "but it'll do in 
a pinch." 

"The bathrooms have old cast-iron bathtubs. Cool, huh?" 
Ten minutes later, she met with her first 
disappointment: her bathroom didn't have any hot water. 
She started to call the front desk, but then had an 
idea. She went into Henry's bathroom and tried the tub. 

"It's hot," she said. "If you don't mind, I'll just 
take a bath in here." 

He gestured with a smile. While she ran a bath, he 
plugged the phone cord into his laptop. The dial-up 
connection was slow, but the computer began downloading 
e-mail. 

He listened to Aly hum as she soaked in the bath. His 
thoughts wandered to her body, and he quickly flushed 
with embarrassment. After a guilty moment he shook off 
the thought and concentrated on his computer. 

----- 

"Do you want to have a late dinner?" Aly asked when she 
emerged from the bathroom. 

Henry turned but then quickly looked away. She was 
wearing a single white towel. Around her head. Her 
nipples were puckered and stiff from the air 
conditioning, and he had an answer to his question 
about her pubic hair: she had a small strip above her 
slit. 

"Oh, Dad," she chided, "don't be such a prude." 

"Sweetheart, I'm your father. I'm not your boyfriend." 

"So? You've seen me naked before." 

"Not since you were ten." 

"That's not true. You've seen me plenty of times since 
then." 

He had, but he felt guilty remembering. She and her 
friends had a cavalier attitude about nudity. He'd seen 
her and the other girls as they sunbathed topless. Or 
when they spent the night and wore scanty nightshirts. 
Or when her best friend, Jordyn, accidentally sent him 
e-mail with... 

"Hello?" Aly said. "Dad?" 

He shook his head and looked at her. He'd forgotten 
about her nudity, and felt his face heat as he looked 
away. His embarrassment redoubled when he felt his 
erection bind in his underwear. 

"Oh, Dad," Aly said. She leaned over his shoulder to 
kiss his cheek. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her nipples, 
pinkish- brown and pointy. She walked to her room and 
he breathed a sigh of relief. His erection didn't go 
away, but at least he could shift it and ease the 
pressure. 

----- 

The diner across the street was open, and they ate a 
quiet meal. Henry's thoughts were chaotic and 
completely inappropriate--he couldn't get the image of 
Aly out of his mind. Back in the hotel room, he lied 
and told her he had a headache. He closed the door 
between their rooms and leaned against it, mentally 
exhausted. 

A cold shower didn't do anything to dampen his libido. 
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Aly's firm 
breasts or trimmed pussy. He climbed into bed with an 
erection. He wanted to jerk off, but he refused to do 
it with thoughts of his daughter clouding his 
imagination. 

He tried to think of Leanne, but his mind's eye kept 
returning to Aly. He thought about a half-dozen other 
women, from movie stars to employees, but Aly always 
returned to the forefront. He even went to his computer 
and tried surfing for porn, but the dial-up connection 
was painfully slow. In the end, he went back to bed, 
where he tossed and turned until he eventually fell 
asleep. 

----- 

Henry opened his eyes and gazed up at the plaster on 
the ceiling. It had once been white, but age and water 
stains had turned it a dull yellow. He had an erection-
-he'd been dreaming about Leanne. Again. He could've 
sworn he felt her next to him, but that was crazy. The 
feeling persisted, so he glanced to his right, just to 
be sure. He recoiled in surprise and leapt out of bed. 

Aly, sleepy-eyed and disheveled, blinked at him from 
the other side of the bed. "Unh, what time is it?" 

"What're you doing in here?" he blurted. 

"My air conditioner started making a racket, so I came 
in here." 

"Alyson..." He drew a deep breath and waited for his 
heart to slow. "We need to talk." 

"About what?" She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. 

Henry immediately sat on the bed again. Aly was wearing 
a midriff halter top and a matching pair of panties. 
The outfit was tight and translucent. It certainly 
didn't leave anything to the imagination. He rested his 
arm on his thigh to hide his renewed erection. 

"Alyson," he began, slowly, deliberately, "I'm not your 
boyfriend, and this isn't a dorm room." 

"I know. So?" 

"I'm your father, and you shouldn't dress like that 
around me. More importantly, you shouldn't sleep in the 
same bed with me." 

"But my air conditioner..." 

He set his jaw. "It's not right." 

She rolled her eyes. "It's vacation. I won't tell if 
you won't." 

"This isn't like a sausage biscuit, sweetheart." 

"So?" 

"Alyson, I'm your father. For that matter, I shouldn't 
see any girl your age dressed like that." 

"I'm not a girl," she shot back. 

"Okay," he conceded, "I shouldn't see any woman your 
age dressed like that." 

"Why? Don't you like me?" 

"I love you, Aly, and that's precisely why I shouldn't 
see you like that. And it's precisely why you shouldn't 
be sleeping in my bed. It's not right." 

"Why? We didn't do anything. I mean, you didn't even 
know I was there until you woke up." 

She was right, and it scared him. He was used to 
sleeping with someone, and he hadn't even noticed when 
the someone in question wasn't his wife. "That's beside 
the point," he said. "Wrong is wrong, whether I know 
about it at the time or not." 

She huffed. "When did you become so repressed, Dad?" 

"I'm not repressed." 

"Then why are you so uptight about how I'm dressed?" 
She flung back the covers to make sure he could see 
everything. 

He controlled his breathing with an effort of will. 
"Aly, that outfit doesn't leave anything to the 
imagination." 

"It's not supposed to. That's why I wore it, Dad. I'm a 
grown woman. I choose who gets to see my body." Her 
eyes glinted. "And I choose you." 

"Aly..." 

"I know you're not a prude, Dad. So relax. And don't 
worry about what I'm wearing. I don't dress like a slut 
in public. So if I want to dress sexy in private, why 
should you complain?" 

"But I'm your father," he said, which sounded feeble. 

"So? You're still a man, aren't you? Or has Mom finally 
cut off your balls?" 

He squared his shoulders and scowled. "Now listen here, 
young lady--" 

"Oh, come on, Dad! Do you think I don't know about Mom 
and her affairs? I know what she's been doing to you, 
and I hate her for it." 

"That's between her and me," Henry said. 

"You think it doesn't affect me? Or Chad and Kacy? We 
know what's going on." 

"Still, it's none of your business--" 

"It is my business when I see how unhappy you are. Why 
don't you divorce her?" 

"Because I made a vow, and I'm going to honor it." 

"Even if Mom ignores it?" 

"I made a vow," he said stubbornly. 

"Then why don't you have a mistress? Tons of women 
would sleep with you. And not just women your age, 
either. You're totally sexy. Women my age would sleep 
with you." 

His eyes widened. 

"Sure," she said. "Jordyn's always thought you were 
hot. She'd sleep with you in a heartbeat. And she's not 
the only one." 

"This is not the kind of discussion we should be 
having," he said suddenly. "Do you want to take a 
shower? Or do you want me to go first?" 

"Why don't we take one together?" 

He ignored the question. 

She rolled her eyes. 

"Fine" he said. "I'll go first." 

Once again, the cold water didn't do a thing for his 
erection. He didn't want to emerge from the bathroom 
clad in just a towel, but his pajamas wouldn't hide his 
hard-on any better. So he wrapped the towel around his 
waist and hoped that Aly had returned to her room. 

She hadn't, and her eyes fell to his groin. He quickly 
turned to face the sink, but he could feel her looking 
at him. She casually stripped off her halter and 
panties. She stood behind him, almost defiantly. He 
could see her in the mirror, but he resolutely focused 
on his own reflection. 

"You can't avoid the issue forever, Dad," she said at 
last. 

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"You're a man," she said, "not a monk. If Mom won't 
have sex with you, then you should find someone who 
will." 

He stubbornly kept his mouth shut. 

She shook her head in resignation. "Fine. Have it your 
way. But that..." she nodded at his hidden erection; 
"won't go away simply because you ignore it." 


-=PART II=-

The phone rang. Henry answered it brusquely. He'd 
already spent most of the morning arguing with Aly -- 
about Leanne. Unfortunately, her arguments found 
fertile ground, and he was beginning to question his 
commitment to his wife. So he was glad for the 
distraction of dealing with the broken-down truck. 

"Ready when you are, Hank," Tyler said. "Do you want me 
to pick you up at the Grand?" 

"Please," Henry said. "I'll meet you out front in five 
minutes." 

When he hung up, Aly stood and reached for her cell 
phone. 

"Uh-uh," Henry said immediately. "You stay here." 

She arched a defiant eyebrow. 

He softened, but didn't give in. "Look, Aly, I need 
some time alone. Okay?" 

She searched his eyes for a moment. Then hers softened 
as well, and she smiled. "Sure, Dad." She made a vague 
gesture. "I'm sorry. I just hate what Mom does to you. 
You deserve better than that. You deserve someone who 
loves you. Instead..." She made another gesture, full 
of anger and frustration. "You deserve better." 

"I know, kitten, but you take what life gives you." 

"What if life isn't fair?" 

He laughed with genuine amusement. It was his first 
laugh in hours. "Life isn't fair, sweetheart. That's 
why you have to grab the bull by the horns and take 
what you can get." 

They heard the diesel clatter of the tow truck outside, 
and they shared a final look. Aly crossed to him and he 
hugged her. 

"I love you, Dad," she said. "I just want you to be 
happy." 

----- 

Tyler towed the rental truck to his garage and quickly 
confirmed the problem: the transmission. 

"I can't fix it here," he said gravely. "It needs a 
complete rebuild." 

"What are my options?" Henry asked. 

"You can call Ryder and get 'em to send me a new 
transmission. Or I can take the transmission to 
Shamrock. I know a place there that can rebuild it for 
you." He wiped his hands. "But it seems to me like this 
is Ryder's problem, not yours." 

Henry nodded. Unfortunately, he'd been preoccupied with 
Aly all morning, so he hadn't called the company's 
emergency number. He took out his cell phone and called 
Jayne instead. She'd get results faster than he would, 
and she'd be more polite in the process. Five minutes 
later, she called him back. 

"You should be getting a call in a few minutes," she 
said. 

The phone beeped. "Thanks, Jayne," he said. "They're on 
the other line now." 

Fifteen minutes later, Henry wanted to fling the phone 
across the dusty parking lot. The rental company 
insisted on sending their own mechanic, who wouldn't 
arrive until later that day. They wouldn't send a new 
transmission until their own man looked at the truck. 
Henry understood the business logic behind their 
decision, but it still irked him. At some point, 
customer service was more important than the bottom 
line. He should know! 

He resigned himself to the wait. Tyler went to work on 
a broken tractor, while Henry spent the afternoon on 
the phone. His cell phone battery died in the middle of 
a conference call, so he had Jayne patch him in on 
Tyler's battered office phone. He spent four hours 
holed up in the cramped and grimy office, either 
talking on the phone or receiving faxes on Tyler's 
ancient thermal fax machine. 

At four o'clock, when the Ryder mechanic still hadn't 
arrived, he called Jayne again. She called him back 
with the news that the mechanic had had a breakdown of 
his own. Henry wanted to pound the desk in helpless 
frustration. Unfortunately, that wouldn't do any good. 

He called the truck company and worked his way through 
people until he was talking to the fleet manager. The 
man promised that the mechanic would arrive first thing 
in the morning, Saturday or not. Henry gritted his 
teeth and hung up. 

"Sorry, Hank," Tyler said from the doorway. 

"It's not your fault," Henry grumbled. He forced a 
smile. "What do I owe you for the tow and rental of 
your office? I think I used most of your fax paper." 

"Aw, let's just see how this whole thing plays out," 
Tyler said. "Besides, Ryder should pay for everything." 

Henry agreed. "But I don't want you to get stiffed." 

"I trust you," Tyler said. 

"You're a good man," Henry said. 

They shook hands, and Henry walked back to the hotel. 

----- 

"You look exhausted," Aly said as soon as she saw him. 

He smiled bleakly. He plugged his cell phone into the 
charger and sank into a chair. In addition to the real 
work he'd done, fighting with the truck company had 
been an ordeal. But he was used to cutting through red 
tape, and the frustration made him even more 
determined. Aly started rubbing his shoulders. 

"Why don't you take a shower and get cleaned up," she 
suggested. 

Tyler's office had been dusty. Henry didn't care at the 
time, but he realized that he probably looked like he'd 
spent the day in a Panhandle garage. 

A few minutes into his shower, Aly knocked on the 
bathroom door. She opened it without waiting for an 
answer. The shower curtain was transparent, so Henry 
shielded his privates. 

"I brought you some extra towels," she said. "And when 
you're done, I'll give you a massage. How's that 
sound?" 

He had mixed feelings about the idea, but he didn't 
want to disappoint her. "Sure, kitten, that sounds 
great." 

She closed the door and he was alone with his thoughts. 

Ten minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom with a 
towel around his waist. He used another to dry his hair 
and torso. Aly smiled at him, but her eyes seemed to 
roam over his body. She looked... hungry. Fortunately, 
he was too tired to react, and his dick remained 
mercifully limp. 

She spread a towel on the bed. "Here," she said. "You 
just lay here and relax." 

He settled on his stomach and crossed his arms beneath 
his chin. Then he closed his eyes and replayed his 
afternoon. The conference call had gone surprisingly 
well. His other calls were a mixed bag of problems and 
opportunities. Fortunately, he had the ability to 
either fix the problems or turn them into 
opportunities. 

Aly climbed onto the bed and settled on his towel-
covered behind. "Just relax, Dad," she said softly. 
Then she began kneading his shoulders, and he groaned 
softly. She was using some kind of warm oil--it smelled 
like flowers--but he didn't care. He tried to turn his 
thoughts back to business, but he couldn't focus. 
Instead, his mind wandered. 

Why had Aly been flashing him for two days? And why had 
she dropped so many innuendos? He wasn't stupid--he 
understood her looks and comments. She had to know 
that. So why? 

Was she trying to seduce him? Was that what this 
morning's conversation had been about? He knew he 
shouldn't talk with her about his problems with Leanne, 
but she seemed to know about them already. And she 
seemed to be suggesting... an alternative. 

His mind balked at the idea, but his dick twitched in 
spite of his conscious reaction. Aly reminded him of 
Leanne, back when his then-future-wife was Miss Bexar 
County Fair. When they'd first met, Leanne was an 
ambitious beauty queen, with luxurious dark hair and 
natural breasts. She'd had pubic hair back then, too. 
Henry grinned at the memory. 

Aly's body was just like Leanne's had been: lithe and 
slim, but curvy in all the right places. Henry felt his 
penis growing, and he shifted to let it expand. His 
mind returned to Leanne, but after a few moments, he 
found himself thinking about Aly again. He knew he 
shouldn't, but he couldn't stop himself. 

"Are you ready for me to do the front?" Aly said. 

Henry's eyes snapped open. The last thing he wanted was 
for Aly to see the lump of his hard-on. 

"C'mon, Dad," she said. She swatted his butt as she 
climbed off him. "Roll over." 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that she was nude. 
At first he was shocked--so shocked that he simply 
rolled over when she prodded him. His shock turned to 
arousal and he tried to suppress it by force of will 
alone. Aly casually climbed onto the bed and settled 
astride his hips. Her pussy was right over his... 

She smiled. "Someone's enjoying himself," she said, 
grinning slyly. 

He started to get up, his face hot with embarrassment. 

She put a hand on his chest and held him down. "Just 
relax," she said. She poured more oil onto her hand and 
set the bottle aside. Then she began rubbing his chest. 

The oil was cool, but Henry barely noticed. He shut his 
eyes, but the backs of his eyelids played images of 
Aly's pert, round, succulent... 

Stop it! he cried silently. 

He felt a pressure on his erection, and he realized 
that it must be her pussy. He wanted to reach down 
and... 

Stop it, he told himself again, sternly this time. 

Aly's hands felt good, but her hips felt better. She 
wasn't being blatant about it, but she was rubbing his 
dick with her pussy. He knew that in the process, she 
was also rubbing herself. He wondered if her pussy was 
wet. 

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his 
imagination. It didn't do any good. He imagined her 
body over him as she rocked herself on his dick. He 
could almost feel the softness of her thighs, the heat 
of her pussy. He opened his eyes with a start. 

He could feel the heat of her pussy. 

She smiled down at him. Then she moved lower, her hands 
on his sides, her hips over his thighs. He breathed a 
sigh of relief. Without her rubbing his towel-covered 
dick, he could control his desire. He'd kept it in 
control for years, whenever Leanne refused him. He 
wasn't going to lose control now, especially with his 
own daughter. 

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on anything but 
Aly's body. When that didn't work, he tried going over 
business figures. That didn't work either. He decided 
to sit up, but froze when he felt her hands at his 
waist. 

Without a word, she pulled his towel open. Cool air 
bathed his penis and testicles. His erection jerked, 
and every fiber of his being screamed at him to get up, 
to run away, to do anything but lie there and let her 
do... whatever. 

His imagination betrayed him. He imagined her 
straddling his hips and lowering herself onto his 
erection. He imagined her sucking him. He hadn't had a 
blowjob in years--Leanne used to do it, but not 
anymore. Not for him, at least. He wanted Aly to suck 
him now. He knew he shouldn't think of his daughter 
that way, but he couldn't stop himself. He imagined 
her... 

She stroked his dick. 

Pleasure shot through his body. A wave of guilt 
followed close behind. 

"Just relax," she said, her voice soft and oh-so-
reasonable. She stroked him again. She must have put 
more oil on her hands--her fingers slipped over his 
shaft. 

Henry knew he should stop her, but it had been so long! 
He swallowed hard, his emotions warring within him. Her 
hands felt incredible, but she was his daughter. He 
wanted to come, but if he did, he'd never be able to 
look her in the eye again. He wanted her to mount him, 
but he needed to stop her before... 

"Mmm, nice," she said, soft and sultry. She stroked him 
with one hand and kneaded his balls with the other. 

Pleasure seared through him and he jerked as though 
he'd touched a live wire. He clamped his eyes shut and 
tried to focus through the roaring in his ears. He 
jerked again and felt a splash of hot semen on his 
belly. She stroked him, her hand strong and sure. He 
felt another surge of pleasure, along with another hot 
gush. 

"That's it," she urged quietly, still pumping. 

He felt warm all over. Aly kept stroking him, although 
she avoided his sensitive head. He grew soft quickly, 
but she didn't pull her hands away. 

He knew he should say something, but what? He didn't 
want to tell her how good he felt, but he didn't want 
to hurt her feelings, either. What she'd done was 
wrong, but at least it wasn't sex. He kept telling 
himself that, over and over again. He didn't quite 
believe it, but it was all he had. 

He struggled to sit up, weak from the intensity of his 
orgasm. Aly smiled at him. Her breasts were shiny with 
oil, and they rose and fell with her breathing. He tore 
his eyes away and met hers. She smiled again, a little 
whimsically. 

"Let me get a towel and I'll clean you up," she said. 
"And then we can go to dinner. I'm starving. Okay?" 

He could only nod. 

----- 

All through dinner, Henry wanted to talk about what had 
happened. It was wrong. They couldn't do it again. But 
a tingling warmth still filled him, and his dick 
twitched every time he shifted in his seat. He kept up 
his side of the conversation--about her summer 
internship, of all things--but a part of him focused on 
how to prevent a recurrence of... 

He called it what it was: incest. It wasn't exactly 
sex, but it was still wrong. Worse, he remembered what 
he'd been thinking at the time. His face heated at the 
memory. 

They finished their meal and walked across the street 
to the hotel. He worked up the nerve to say something, 
but lost the thread when she smiled at him. She looked 
so beautiful, so innocent. She didn't look like the 
girl--the woman, he corrected--who had given him a 
hand-job earlier. She looked like what she was: a 
teenager out with her father. He felt his determination 
wither and die. 

When they reached their rooms, she changed into a pair 
of shorts and a midriff T-shirt. The shirt clung to her 
braless breasts. Her nipples made little shadows when 
the light was right. She sat cross-legged in the center 
of the bed, TV remote in hand. 

"What do you want to watch?" she asked. 

Aly, we can't do that again, he silently told her, 
working up the nerve to say it for real. It's my fault.
I should've stopped it. 

"How about something on HBO?" 

I love you, and you're my daughter. I'm flattered that 
you... He stopped. He sounded condescending, even to 
himself. I think you're a beautiful girl, but... Too 
patronizing. I know you love me, but... Too wishy-
washy. 

"Do you want to watch something else? CNN?" 

"Whatever you want, sweetheart," he said. He snorted 
softly at the double meaning of his words. 

For her part, Aly seemed perfectly comfortable with 
what had happened. What I let happen, Henry sternly 
told himself. I could've stopped it, anytime. He knew 
the lie as soon as he thought it. He couldn't have 
stopped it any more than he could've stopped the truck 
from breaking down. 

He yearned to be home, where he wouldn't have to face 
the shame of what he'd done. He glanced at her. She 
smiled at him again, the corners of her mouth quirking 
whimsically. 

Henry steeled his nerve and vowed not to repeat his 
moment of weakness. If it didn't happen again, he 
wouldn't have to talk about it. He kept telling himself 
that as he gazed at the TV with sightless eyes. 

After an hour of mindless television, Aly yawned. "Are 
you ready for bed?" 

He desperately hoped she'd go to her own room. 

"If you don't mind, I'll sleep in here tonight," she 
said, dashing his hopes for a painless separation. 

"I don't know..." 

"I forgot to call the manager about my air 
conditioner," she said. "It still makes a racket. I 
can't sleep with it on." 

Henry didn't think she'd "forgotten" at all. 

"Please, Dad?" 

"Sure, sweetheart. I can sleep on the floor." 

"Oh, don't be silly." 

They went round and round for two minutes. She was 
insistent, but Henry had made up his mind. 

"Okay, fine," she said at last, exasperated. "If you're 
going to be unreasonable, I'll just sleep in my room. I 
won't have you sleep on the floor." 

That started a second round of arguing, and Henry 
eventually agreed to sleep in his own bed... with Aly. 

"I'll be good," she said, sensing his reluctance. "I 
promise." 

He didn't want to disappoint her, but he couldn't--
could not-- allow a repeat of what had happened. 

Aly changed into her sheer top and panties while Henry 
went into the bathroom to change into his silk pajamas. 
He tried not to look at her as she climbed into her 
side of the bed. He turned out the bedside light and 
rolled away from her. It took him a long time to get to 
sleep. 

----- 

He was dreaming, and Leanne was sucking his dick. Her 
lips felt so good. He moaned and put his hand on her 
head. She liked it when he did that. Her hair was soft 
and silken under his fingers. Her lips felt even 
better. She sucked gently and then pulled back, her 
lips tight around his shaft. 

He wasn't close to coming, although he could feel the 
pressure building in his balls. She didn't particularly 
like the taste of semen, but she still let him come in 
her mouth. She even swallowed. He thought about the 
first time she'd given him a blowjob, years ago, in the 
back seat of his old Chevy. 

She hadn't been very good at giving head then, but she 
learned quickly. She wasn't a virgin, but she hadn't 
had many boyfriends. Henry was the first to come in her 
mouth. She liked the thrill of new sex. But he couldn't 
remember the last time... 

She took him deep and he groaned softly. Her lips felt 
wonderful, the perfect combination of strong and 
supple. She circled the head of his cock with her 
tongue. He was getting closer, and he began moving his 
hips. 

She put her hand on his balls and massaged them through 
the silk pajamas. The feeling was exquisite, smooth and 
hot at the same time. He thrust his hips and held her 
head down. She took him as deep as she could. He was 
close. Very close. 

The pressure mounted in his balls and he felt the 
familiar tingling. He grunted once and held her head 
down. She groaned in surprise, but didn't push him 
away. Instead, she pumped him with her fist. He felt a 
jolt of intense pleasure as he spurted in her mouth. 

When his orgasm finally subsided, he mumbled his thanks 
and told her he loved her. He hadn't said that in a 
while. 

----- 

Henry opened his eyes and gazed at the ceiling. Leanne 
was nestled beside him. He had his arm around her, and 
she had one of her legs thrown over his. She felt warm 
and soft and lithe, like when they were first married. 

With a shock of realization, he came fully awake--Aly 
was beside him. Luckily, he didn't have his usual 
morning erection, despite his incredibly erotic dream. 
He tried to separate himself without waking her. 

She stirred. "Mmm, what time is it?" she mumbled. 

He glanced at the clock. "Six thirty-two." 

He pulled from under her and swung his legs over the 
side of his bed. He stood up and immediately felt a 
draft. His fly was open. He looked down in shock. He 
tried to re-button his pajamas, but his fingers were 
trembling. 

It was a dream, he told himself feverishly. It was all 
a dream. 

Had Aly...? Had he...? 

He rushed into the bathroom and locked the door behind 
him. It felt cool against his back. His chest heaved 
from more than the effort of dashing across the room. 

"Are you okay, Dad?" Aly called after him. 

Oh, my God, he thought. What have I done? 

----- 

Aly didn't say anything over breakfast, and neither did 
he. Before they were done, Tyler called with the news 
that the Ryder mechanic had arrived. A disconnected 
sense of calm settled over Henry as he focused on the 
truck instead of his other problems. He left the 
waitress a twenty and then he and Aly walked to the 
garage. 

The Ryder mechanic quickly decided that the truck 
needed a new transmission. Henry and Tyler shared an 
irritated "We told you so" look. The new man slid from 
under the truck and wiped his hands. 

"I'll have to pick one up in Amarillo," he said. 

Henry barely restrained his anger. "Weren't you just in 
Amarillo? Couldn't you have brought one with you?" 

The man shook his head. "I came from Oklahoma City." He 
looked sheepish. "You must've lit a fire under 
somebody, Mr. Adair," he said. "My boss told me to be 
here by nine o'clock, or else. I was on the road at 
six." 

Good, Henry thought crossly. It's about time I got some 
good customer service. To the mechanic, he said, "Thank 
you. But I have a suggestion: why don't you call 
Amarillo and have them deliver a new transmission? 
It'll save time." 

"Uh, yeah. I guess you're right. Dunno if anybody's in 
the shop on a Saturday, but I'll give it a try." The 
man wiped his hands again and took out his cell phone. 
"Yep," he said when he hung up, "you sure lit a fire 
under somebody." 

----- 

Henry spent the rest of the morning in his hotel room, 
on the phone or on the computer. He had a grant 
proposal to write, a project budget to revise, and a 
thousand other things to keep him busy. Aly sat with 
him while he worked. She spent the time reading, or 
watching TV, or sending text messages on her phone. 

When the Ryder mechanic finally finished, Henry thanked 
him and signed the repair receipt. Then he thanked 
Tyler--with quite a bit more goodwill. 

"So," Henry asked, "how much do I owe you for 
everything?" 

"Well, Hank," Tyler said, "the Ryder guy said they'd 
pay for the tow and the facilities. As for the rest..." 
He shrugged. "The office is free, and bein' friendly 
don't cost nothing, so... I don't guess you owe me 
anything at all." 

"Nonsense," Henry said. He pulled out two hundred-
dollar bills. "Will this cover it?" 

"I told you--" 

"Take it," Henry insisted. "In case Ryder is slow to 
pay." 

Tyler reluctantly took the money. Then he shook Henry's 
hand. "You're okay, Hank," he said with a grin, 
"especially for a guy from LA." 

"Didn't I tell you?" Henry said with a chuckle. "I was 
born and raised in San Antonio." 

Tyler laughed. "A Texas boy? I knew it!" 

----- 

Henry paid the hotel bill, and they were on the road by 
four o'clock. He didn't want to spend another night in 
a hotel with Aly--he didn't trust himself--but he 
didn't relish the sixteen hour drive from Texas to LA. 

By midnight, his eyes were bleary and his shoulders 
ached. Aly talked him into spending the night in a 
motel. She even offered to check in while he parked the 
truck. She returned as he was gathering their bags. 

"I got us one room," she said as she took her bag from 
him. 

He should've argued, but he didn't have the energy. 
Besides, he couldn't exactly demand a second room, 
since he didn't want to hurt her feelings. His spirits 
rose when they got to the room and he saw the double 
beds. At least he wouldn't have to sleep in the same 
bed with her. Her casual nudity still made him nervous, 
but it didn't shock him anymore. As for the rest... 

"Are you okay, Dad?" she asked. 

He nodded and tossed his things onto the nearest bed. 
He changed into his pajamas in the bathroom. When he 
emerged, Aly was washing her face at the sink. She was 
nude, so he let his eyes pass over her without 
stopping. Unfortunately, he couldn't stop himself from 
glancing back. 

Her smooth pussy peeked from between her thighs. He 
quickly looked away, but the sight was burned into his 
brain. He felt something stir within him, so he quickly 
climbed into bed. It took him a long time to fall 
asleep. 

----- 

Henry opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. The 
heavy curtains screened the glow from the parking lot, 
but he could tell that it was much earlier than his 
usual six thirty. He blinked and wondered what had 
woken him. He felt a movement beside him, and his pulse 
raced. 

Aly! 

She rolled over and draped herself across him. She must 
have felt his tension, because she started to wake up. 

"What time is it?" she asked. 

"I don't know. Shouldn't you be in your own bed?" 

"Oh Dad." 

"Sweetheart..." 

"Mmm," she said, ignoring him, "you're warm." 

He was fully awake now. He wanted to get up, to get 
away. He didn't have an erection, but with her body 
pressed against his, it was only a matter of time. 

"Are you in the mood?" she asked. 

Henry was struck by how grown-up she sounded. She 
certainly wasn't a little girl, but she sounded so 
matter-of-fact, so... comfortable with the idea that he 
might be aroused. The realization did what nature 
hadn't--he felt his penis swell and start to grow. 

"Do you want me to take care of you?" she asked. Before 
he could say anything, she reached for his manhood and 
found it through his pajama bottoms. "Ooh, you are in 
the mood." 

He carefully pulled her fingers away from his erection. 
If he'd had any doubts about whether or not he'd been 
dreaming the night before, he lost them in an instant. 

"What's the matter?" she asked, more curious than 
discouraged. 

"Aly, you shouldn't touch me there." 

She snorted softly and reached for him again. 

He pulled her hand away. "I'm serious, Alyson." 

"Oh, Dad, don't be such a prude. It's all right. It's 
just oral." 

"And you're 'just' my daughter. It's not right." His 
erection didn't agree. 

"You thought it was all right last night," she accused. 

He deliberately gathered his thoughts. "It wasn't all 
right," he said at last. "I thought I was dreaming..." 
It sounded feeble. He cleared his throat and continued, 
"I thought you were your mother." 

"Do I give head like she does?" 

"Alyson! I'm not going to answer that." 

"Do I? She's had a lot more practice than I have... and 
with so many different men." She sounded spiteful, and 
it didn't suit her. 

"Aly, you shouldn't say that. Besides, it's none of 
your business." 

"Just what is my business, Dad?" she asked. Without 
waiting for an answer, she plowed ahead. "I love you, 
and I want to give you pleasure. What's wrong with 
that? We're both consenting adults. It's not like 
you're taking advantage of me. More like I'm taking 
advantage of you." 

"Aly," he said deliberately, "we can't. We can't do 
what we did last night. We can't." 

"Why not?" 

"Because you're my daughter." He could almost feel her 
roll her eyes. 

"Dad, that's stupid. Who loves you more than I do? Mom? 
Ha! Kacy?" 

Henry's heart raced at the thought of his older 
daughter seducing him. Kacy might be a jackal, but she 
did have a nice body. He liked Aly's better, but... He 
stopped himself before he went any further. 

"Not likely," Aly finished. "Jayne loves you, but she's 
too afraid to do anything about it. Jordyn tried to 
seduce you, but you never did anything when she e-
mailed those pictures." 

"You knew about that?" he asked, surprised. 

"Who do you think took the pictures, Dad? And whose 
idea was it to send them to you?" 

"You?" 

"Of course. Jordyn's wanted to get busy with you since 
we were thirteen. Most of my friends think you're hot. 
We used to talk about you when they spent the night. 
Why do you think we wore such flimsy nighties when you 
were around? God, Dad... Half my friends wanted you to 
take their virginity." 

His eyebrows shot up. 

"I wanted you to take my virginity." 

At that, he gaped. 

"Instead... well... instead, I had sex with a boy. I 
don't like boys, Dad. I like men. I like you. I love 
you." 

"I love you too," he answered automatically, "but--" 

"Then why won't you let me please you?" 

"Aly, we can't." 

"Dad, we already have." 

"But we can't do it again." 

"Why not? I love you, and you love me. I love sex, and 
so do you. Don't try to deny it, Dad. I felt how you 
held my head down and thrust into my mouth last night." 

"Aly, no," he said, overcome by guilt. 

She reached for his erection and grasped it through the 
silk of his pajamas. 

He wanted to jump out of bed. He wanted to push her 
away. He wanted to make her promise never to touch him 
again. He wanted to run. 

"There," she said, "that's not so bad." 

"Aly, no," he whispered, his voice harsh with tension. 

She unbuttoned his fly and reached into it. He felt an 
electric thrill when she touched his manhood. Her hands 
were soft and gentle. She stroked him. 

He swallowed hard. "We can't..." 

"Shh," she whispered. Then she pulled back the covers. 

He felt her breath on his cock. A moment later he felt 
her lips. He closed his eyes and tried not to groan. He 
could fool himself into thinking he'd been dreaming the 
night before, but now he was completely aware of what 
his daughter was doing. He still couldn't stop her. 

"Oh, God," she said, low and eager, "I love your cock." 
She wrapped her lips around him again. 

He closed his eyes. This isn't happening, he told 
himself. This is only a dream. But he knew the truth. 
His daughter was sucking his dick, and he hadn't done a 
thing to stop her. 

"Take off your pajamas," she said. 

He made a desultory attempt at unbuttoning his shirt, 
but then his hands fell limp. He couldn't stop her, but 
he wasn't going to help her, either. 

She didn't need help. She pulled his bottoms down and 
tossed them aside. Then she pulled off her own 
skintight outfit. With a low groan of impatience, she 
swallowed his erection. 

Henry closed his eyes and gulped. Her lips felt 
exquisite. She didn't have Leanne's experience, but she 
knew what she was doing. After a minute or two, he felt 
her shift. She tugged his hand to her hip. Then she 
wiggled suggestively. He didn't move, so she let his 
dick slip from her lips. 

"Play with my pussy," she said. "That gets me hot like 
you wouldn't believe." 

She started sucking him again, but he still didn't 
move. She took his hand and moved it for him. He felt 
the heat and moisture and he yearned to touch her, but 
he still had a shred of self- control. She wiggled her 
hips again. 

"Play with me, Dad." 

His self-control began to unravel. After a long moment 
he worked up the nerve to touch her pussy. She was hot 
and slippery. She groaned when he gently sawed his 
fingers along her slit. 

"Oh, yeah," she panted, "that's it." She rocked her 
hips, forcing more of his hand against her. 

He played with her clit, and she moaned softly. The 
sound vibrated through his dick as she sucked him. She 
bobbed for another minute or two. Then she released his 
dick and sat up. He thought she was going to stop 
sucking him. A tiny part of him felt relieved, but the 
rest of him railed in frustration. She swung her leg 
over his chest and straddled his face. 

He couldn't see her pussy very well, but the smell of 
her arousal hit him like a ton of bricks. He felt his 
dick swell, and Aly groaned in surprise. She started 
sucking in earnest. 

He stared up at her, his mouth watering with desire. He 
hadn't tasted a pussy in a long time, and one was 
staring him in the face. Its owner was his nineteen-
year-old daughter, but at the moment, he didn't care. 
He licked her. 

She moaned and ground her hips against his face. He 
tongued her clit, and she cried out. He smiled to 
himself and did it again. She let his dick slip from 
her lips, but he concentrated on her pussy. 

He let his tongue wander through her folds, tasting her 
juices. Then he sucked her swollen inner lips, which 
made her gasp with the need for release. She tensed up, 
but he didn't relent. He kept licking as she quivered 
gently. Her spasms grew stronger, and she cried out. He 
lavished attention on her sensitive folds. 

She went wild. Her belly heaved and he felt her holding 
on to his cock for dear life. Her thighs trembled and 
her whole body seemed to convulse. She cried out again, 
locked in the powerful current of an orgasm. He kept 
licking, driving her higher. 

She finally collapsed atop him. He slowly came to his 
senses as well. He was still hard--very hard--and he 
smelled like pussy. His chest heaved from the exertion. 

Aly stirred and managed to swing her leg over his 
shoulder. She collapsed beside him and panted. "Oh... 
my... God," she said at last. "That was the best orgasm 
I've had in... forever." 

He started to say, "I'm glad you liked it," but then he 
remembered who he was talking to. "Aly, I...," he 
began. Then he fell silent. Confusion and shame 
overwhelmed him. But along with the other emotions, he 
felt a burning desire, and his balls ached for release. 

"Oh, God," she said at last, "I need your cock." She 
rolled over and found his erection. She engulfed the 
crown and then swallowed the first few inches. Her lips 
tightened around him and she sucked gently. Then she 
drew back, her tongue trailing along the sensitive 
skin. 

"Come in my mouth," she whispered, her voice husky with 
desire. 
"Hold my head and come in my mouth." 

She started sucking again and Henry put his hand on her 
head. She groaned and bobbed up and down. He didn't 
last long. When he tensed up, she began stroking him. 
He pushed her head down and she moaned as the first 
spurt struck the back of her throat. A second spurt 
turned into a surge of pleasure. 

The surges continued long after the gushes stopped. She 
let him slip from her lips when he grew soft. Then she 
turned and settled beside him. 

"That was nice," she said, already sleepy. "I love 
you." 

"I love you too." 

They were quiet for a long time, and he eventually felt 
her breathing grow deep and regular. 

He lay awake until the sun came up. 


-=PART III=-

Henry gripped the steering wheel and thought--for the 
hundredth time--about what he wanted to say. 

"Aly...," he said at last. 

She sent her text message, snapped her phone shut, and 
looked at him expectantly. 

"Aly," he began again, "we need to talk." 

"Oh," she mocked, "this sounds serious." 

"It is." 

"It's about this morning, isn't it?" He started to 
respond, but she cut him off. "Why are you so uptight 
about it, Dad? We're both consenting adults." 

"It's still wrong," he said. 

"Why?" 

"It just is." 

"But why? Why is it 'wrong' to have sex with someone 
who loves you?" 

"Because you're my daughter, that's why." 

"So?" 

"It's incest, Alyson. And it's wrong." 

"Interracial marriage used to be 'wrong,'" she said. 
"In the Fifties." 

"This is different." 

"How?" 

"It just is," he said stubbornly. 

"That's the best you can come up with?" she said. "'It 
just is'?" She huffed. "C'mon, Dad, you're smarter 
than that." 

He didn't rise to her baiting. 

"It's only 'wrong' if you say it is. But what's wrong 
about it?" 

He didn't have a good answer, so he kept his mouth 
shut. 

"In the first place, you can't get me pregnant, so we 
don't have to worry about birth defects." 

"That's not the only thing to worry about," he said 
obstinately. She wasn't going to win the argument 
simply because he'd had a vasectomy. 

She ignored his objection. "In the second place," she 
continued, "I'm totally legal, so you don't have to 
worry about statutory rape. In the third place, you're 
not taking advantage of me. I'm a grown woman. I can 
decide for myself who I want to sleep with. And 
finally, I wasn't planning to tell the whole world 
about our private lives. So we don't have to worry 
about some Republican DA trying to have us arrested." 

"It's still wrong," he said. 

"Why, Dad? Tell me why." 

"It just is." 

"So we're back to that again?" she said. "Didn't you 
teach me to think for myself? To 'use the brain God 
gave me'?" Her implication was obvious. 

"This is different," he said. "I have thought about it, 
and it's wrong." 

"So you've thought about us?" 

He quickly backpedaled: "I didn't mean it like that." 

"Then how did you mean it, Dad?" She looked at him for 
a moment and then set her jaw defiantly. "Okay, I'll 
drop the whole thing... on one condition." 

"What?" he asked warily. 

"Can you honestly tell me that you don't wanna have sex 
with me?" 

He looked at her and thought about lying. It would be a 
lie, too. He'd spent the last hundred miles daydreaming 
about her. 

She let the silence drag out. 

"It's wrong, Alyson," he said at last. 

She must have sensed his crumbling resolve, because she 
unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned close. After a moment 
to let the tension mount, she put her hand on his 
thigh. 

The contact sent a jolt of excitement through him, and 
his penis stirred. "Alyson," he said hoarsely, "we 
can't ever repeat what we did last night." 

"Yes, we can." 

He was acutely aware of her presence -- the heat of her 
body, the swell of her breasts, and a dozen other 
things that made every fiber of his being cry out to 
agree. 

"We can do that and more," she said. "I want to do 
everything with you." 

Against his will, he darted a glance at her. 

"Yes, everything," she said. "I want to suck you. I 
want you to eat me. I want to feel your cock inside me. 
I want to feel you come inside me." 

"Aly," he croaked, "do you have to use language like 
that?" 

"Would it sound better if I used the proper words?" she 
asked. Then she smirked. "I want to fellate you. I want 
you to perform cunnilingus on me. I want to feel your 
penis inside me. I want to feel you ejaculate in my 
vagina. Is that what you want to hear, Dad?" 

He swallowed hard. 

"I'll say it however you like," she said. "I'll say 
whatever you want, as long as you fuck me." She mocked 
him with a look. "Excuse me, as long as you have 
intercourse with me." 

He glared. 

"Hey, you wanted me to stop using 'language like 
that.'" 

After a long pause, he said, "Aly, we can't..." 

"Yes, we can," she whispered. "We can do it as often as 
we like." 
Her fingers slid up his leg and she brushed his trapped 
erection. 

He wanted to pull her hand away, but he couldn't. It 
felt so good, so warm, so... right. He blinked in shock 
at the last thought and tried to clear his muddled 
brain. Fathers do not think of their daughters that 
way, he told himself sternly. Then he answered himself, 
But what if my daughter...? He glanced at her. 

"I want you," she said, her voice husky with desire. 
"Can you pull over at the next exit?" 

Emotions warred within him. He felt guilty for even 
considering the suggestion, but he also felt a thrill 
of excitement. Her arguments had begun to make sense. 
She couldn't get pregnant, and she was a grown woman, 
able to make decisions for herself. Incest was probably 
illegal, but he had plenty of experience skirting the 
technicalities of the law. Besides, they weren't likely 
to tell anyone what they'd done. 

Still, he felt a moment of guilt at the thought of 
having sex with his own daughter. He told himself that 
he was being irrational. He wanted to have sex with 
her, and she'd made some persuasive arguments. What 
could it hurt? 

He made his decision. 

When Aly saw his expression change, she made a sound of 
triumph. With practiced ease, she unfastened his chinos 
and extracted his hard-on. She stroked him gently. Her 
hand was warm and soft. With her free hand, she managed 
to pull off her panties. The scent of her arousal 
filled the truck's cab, and Henry's mouth began to 
water. 

The next exit was a rest area, and Henry sped toward 
the truck and RV parking lot. The far corner was empty. 
Aly had her head in his lap before he even turned off 
the engine. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He 
wanted to fuck her, but he didn't want to do it in a 
truck cab. Aly seemed to have the same thought, because 
she didn't make a move to change positions. Instead, 
she played with her pussy while she sucked him. 

She came before he did. He felt her tense up, and she 
groaned around his dick. Afterward, her nostrils bathed 
his shaft with cool air as she panted. When she caught 
her breath, she began sucking again. 

He didn't last long. When she felt him swell in her 
mouth, she began stroking him. He clamped his eyes shut 
as the first spurt shot like a geyser from his shaft. 
She moaned and kept pumping. He spurted again and saw 
spots behind his closed eyes. 

He eventually came to his senses and looked around, to 
make sure no one had seen them. The parking lot was 
just as it had been before. He stroked Aly's hair as he 
caught his breath. 

She sucked him until he grew too soft. Then she sat up 
and wiped the corners of her mouth. She grinned. Her 
face was flushed and her hair had come undone, but she 
looked beautiful. She closed her eyes and moistened her 
lips, tasting him. 

"Mmm," she breathed. "I like it when you come in my 
mouth." She opened her eyes, and they flashed with an 
intensity that almost scared him. "I can't wait to feel 
you come inside me." 

He forced a smile and tried to suppress a wave of 
guilt. He wasn't successful, but the thought of fucking 
her was enough to run roughshod over any objections he 
might have left. 

----- 

Henry turned into his driveway and pulled around the 
circle. He stretched the kinks from his muscles as he 
walked to the front door. Inside, the housekeeper 
emerged at the sound of the security system beep. She 
pulled up short when she saw him. Then she smiled, 
friendly but deferential. When she looked past him, her 
smile turned into genuine affection. 

"Oh, Miss Aly, you home!" 

"It's good to be home, Marisela," Aly said as they 
hugged. 

Marisela clucked and eyed the girl critically. "You 
still so thin. They no feed you in Virginia?" 

"Of course they do, Marisela, but I want to look good 
for men." 

"Men? Is that why you no eat? Miss Aly, men no want 
skin and bones..." 

Henry left the two women talking and headed toward his 
office suite. The majority of the house was Leanne's to 
decorate (and redecorate) as she saw fit, but the west 
wing was his private domain. It had been designed as a 
music studio--the idiot movie star had delusions of 
being a rock star, too--but Henry had it gutted when he 
bought the place. 

He'd kept the studio's original soundproofing, but 
little else. Rich wood paneling and thick Persian 
carpets replaced the garish colors and cheesy shag 
carpeting. Leather couches and chairs supplanted the 
Seventies furniture. And the sound equipment was in a 
real recording studio in the Valley. 

Now, the suite was wired with everything a modern 
executive needed, from phones to broadband to satellite 
TV. It also had the sophisticated security system, of 
course, with its cabinet of monitors and digital video 
recorders. It even had a full bath and kitchenette. 
Last but not least, it had a small bedroom, where Henry 
could spend the night when he worked late. 

The suite had only one entrance, through the media 
room. Henry usually left the door open when he was 
working at home, but he kept it locked the rest of the 
time. Marisela had her own entry code, but she only 
entered to clean. Leanne didn't have a code, and Henry 
had made it clear to Marisela that he'd fire her if she 
ever gave her code to Leanne. 

At the thought, Henry grinned. Marisela didn't like 
Leanne -- the housekeeper knew about Leanne's affairs -
- so he wasn't worried about the code. Leanne had 
wanted to fire Marisela at least a dozen times over the 
past years, but Henry had put his foot down. It was his 
house, and he paid the bills. Leanne had gotten used to 
the situation, but she still resented it. Henry didn't 
care anymore. Good housekeepers were hard to find, 
especially loyal ones, so Marisela would always have a 
job with Henry. 

He punched his code into the keypad and entered the 
office suite. He checked his computer and then opened 
the security system cabinet. Aly and Marisela were 
still talking in the foyer. He watched them for a 
moment and then smiled. Aly had her mother's beauty, 
but nothing of her personality, thank God. 

For a moment he wondered if he would've been as 
attracted to Aly if she were more like Leanne or Kacy. 
Somehow, he doubted it. He'd learned a lot since the 
pure lust of his early marriage. Leanne might be sexy 
and attractive--both then and now--but she was also a 
scheming, manipulative, unfaithful, shallow... 

He balled his fists and willed himself to relax. Aly 
was none of those things. She might look like Leanne, 
but the similarities ended there. He watched Aly for a 
moment longer. His eyes were drawn to her breasts, 
braless under her tight T-shirt. She was too thin, but 
if she filled out like Leanne had... He smiled and 
shook off a fantasy. 

Aly and Marisela were still talking when he returned to 
the foyer. 

"Are we ready to unload?" he prompted. 

"Sure," Aly said. 

"You want dinner for when you done, Mr. Henry?" 
Marisela asked. 

"Please. How about your famous pork empanadas?" 

She frowned. 

Aly gave him a hard look. "And what about your 
cholesterol?" 

Marisela said, "I try to take good care of him, Miss 
Aly, but..." She shrugged helplessly. 

"I thought we were on vacation?" Henry protested. 

Aly's eyes flashed, and she smirked. "All right. Since 
tonight is special..." 

He felt his face flush. Fortunately, Marisela couldn't 
know what Aly really meant. 

"Okay, Mr. Henry," the housekeeper said, "I make you 
empanadas." 

Henry rolled his eyes at Aly's audacity. "Come on," he 
said. 

It took them an hour to unload the truck. Most of her 
things went to her bedroom, and she piled the rest in 
the upstairs rec room. 

"Do we have time to get cleaned up before dinner?" 
Henry called to Marisela when they finished. 

A mouth-watering aroma followed her out of the kitchen. 
"Thirty minutes," she said. 

Henry nodded. Upstairs, he left his clothes in a trail 
on the bathroom floor. The hot shower stung his 
shoulders, but he simply stood under it for a minute or 
two. Then he heard the bathroom door open. For a moment 
he felt an irrational fear that Leanne had returned 
early. She was supposed to be in San Diego with Kacy, 
but... 

Aly opened the steam-clouded shower door. 

A wave of desire washed over him, but then he felt 
another stab of fear: what if Marisela came upstairs? 
He relaxed almost immediately. First, Marisela was busy 
in the kitchen. Second, she never came into the bedroom 
when he or Leanne were there. 

Aly drew his mind back to the present. "I thought I'd 
join you," she said. She shut the door behind her and 
squirted soap in her palm. As she lathered his chest, 
he watched her steam-slick breasts move. His penis 
jerked and began to stiffen. 

She teased him with a surprised look. "Is that for me?" 

She ran soap-slick hands over his shaft and then washed 
his testicles. By the time she returned to his dick, he 
was completely hard. She stroked him for a moment, her 
eyes riveted to his erection. Then she gazed up at him. 
She closed her eyes and parted her lips. With a soapy 
hand, she drew him down for a kiss. 

At first, he rebelled against the intimacy. A kiss was 
so... personal. But then he silently laughed at 
himself. He was willing to have sex with his own 
daughter, but he balked at a kiss? Instead of pushing 
her away, he pulled her closer. Her slippery body felt 
oh-so-good against his. 

When she finally broke the kiss, she whispered, "I 
can't wait to fuck you." 

She squeezed his dick. Then she gently pushed him under 
the steaming shower and rinsed the soap from his body. 
When she was done, she pulled his hands to her breasts. 
Her nipples grew stiff as he tweaked them. 

"Oh, that's nice," she said. "I like your hands on me." 
She closed her eyes and stroked his erection. They 
stood like that for almost a minute. "Do you want to 
wash me?" she said at last. 

He smiled in reply. She squirted soap into his hand, 
and he began to lather her. Her skin felt young and 
smooth, and he reeled with another wave of arousal. Aly 
turned and pressed her ass against his hard-on. She 
looked over her shoulder and bit her lip, playing the 
seductive vixen. 

"Do you want to fuck me here?" she said. 

He almost snorted at her audacity. Then he felt a 
moment of uncertainty. A blowjob was one thing, but sex 
was another thing entirely. Could he actually go 
through with it? He wanted to, but still... 

Aly sensed his hesitation. "Don't worry, Dad," she 
said, "we have all the time in the world. Mom won't be 
home till Wednesday, right?" 

He nodded. 

"So that gives us two days." 

He nodded again. 

"You can give Marisela a couple of days off, and we can 
do whatever we want." She waggled her eyebrows. "I have 
some totally hot fantasies about where I want to do 
it." 

He didn't argue--not with her nubile body pressed 
against him. He felt a flicker of guilt at what he 
wanted to do, but he quickly suppressed it. He'd 
already made his decision, and he was willing to live 
with it. Incest might be worse than adultery, but 
Leanne had broken their wedding vows long ago. He had a 
lot of catching up to do. 

Aly sensed his distraction. "Come on," she said, 
"Marisela should have dinner about ready." She turned 
off the water and opened the shower door. Steam 
billowed out as she reached for the towels. 

Henry watched Aly dry herself, and his erection 
returned. She reached for him with a grin. He closed 
his eyes as she began sucking him. She pulled back 
after only a minute. Her eyes sparkled. 

"Later," she said. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his 
cheek. Then she giggled and dropped her towel. 

He watched her bare ass as she sauntered from the room. 
When she was gone, he stared into space, reliving the 
last few minutes. Eventually, he turned away and 
blinked to clear his head. His erection softened as he 
shaved, so he donned a loose warm-up suit and headed 
downstairs. 

He found Aly in the kitchen. She was bent over the 
island, speaking Spanish with Marisela. The housekeeper 
stood at the stove, with her back to the room. Aly 
looked over her shoulder when she heard him. Her eyes 
flashed and she casually lifted her skirt. She wasn't 
wearing panties. 

Henry let his gaze roam over her narrow hips and smooth 
ass, but his eyes were drawn to her pussy. She reached 
between her legs and ran a finger along her slit. He 
was hard in an instant, and he regretted wearing 
something so loose that it showed. 

"Almost ready, Mr. Henry," Marisela said over her 
shoulder. 

Aly grinned at him and then returned to her 
conversation with the housekeeper. Henry spoke a few 
words of Spanish, but he couldn't follow their 
conversation. Besides, he was distracted by Aly--her 
pussy flashed pink as she spread her moisture. 

"Okay, ready," Marisela said at last, startling Henry 
out of his erotic stupor. 

He and Aly ate dinner on the patio. The evening was 
still relatively warm, but a cool breeze picked up as 
the sun slid toward the horizon. Marisela cleaned up 
the dinner dishes and then reappeared at the patio 
door. 

"Do you need anything before I go, Mr. Henry?" 

Henry shook his head. "Thanks again for coming to work 
today." he said. She usually had weekends off. "Why 
don't you take tomorrow off," he added, as casually as 
he could. 

Aly cleared her throat softly. 

"And Tuesday," he added. Marisela dithered for a 
moment, and Henry immediately understood the reason. 
"With pay, of course," he said. When she relaxed, he 
said, "It's the least I can do." 

She thanked him and left. As soon as she was gone, he 
felt Aly's foot at his crotch. She smirked and burrowed 
her toes under his semi-hard dick. It swelled 
immediately, and her expression turned smug. Then she 
tugged her skirt up and bared her pussy. Without a 
word, she began playing with herself. 

"Do you want to go upstairs?" she finally asked. 

A part of him wanted to fuck her right there on the 
patio table. Another part wanted to wait until his 
dinner settled. A third part--smaller and quieter--
still rebelled at the idea of having sex with his own 
daughter. 

She spread her legs and inserted a finger. Then she 
held his eyes as she tasted her own juices. All the 
while, her foot never stopped teasing his erection. 

Why shouldn't I have sex with her? he thought. She 
wants it as much as I do. More! Why should I live like 
a monk when Leanne fucks anything with a dick? The 
seething anger killed his erection, but his lingering 
guilt died as well. It was a silent, unlamented death. 
"Why don't we watch a movie or something," he finally 
suggested. 

"But I want you." 

"I need to let my dinner settle," he half-lied. 

In the media room, Aly flopped onto the couch and he 
sat next to her, close but not touching. She scooted 
closer and he caught a whiff of her perfume. His 
nostrils flared with arousal. 

"What do you want to watch?" she asked. Before he could 
answer, she turned to the Playboy Channel. It was 
showing "Naughty College School Girls 15." 

"Works for me," Henry said. 

Aly pressed herself against him and set the remote 
aside. They watched in silence. 

"Wow, she's hot," Aly said at last. 

The girl onscreen was blonde and thin, with fake boobs. 
Her pussy was completely shaved, and she wore a 
glittering pendant in her navel. She looked like a 
slutty version of Kacy. 

"Normally, I don't like fake tits," Aly continued, "but 
so many women have 'em these days. Hers are pretty 
nice, don't you think?" When the scene switched to 
another girl --also shaved-- Aly lifted a foot to the 
couch. She pulled up her skirt and casually regarded 
her sparse pubic hair. "Do you think I should go bare 
down there?" 

"I think you should keep some pubic hair," Henry said. 
"I don't like the little girl look." He snorted with 
silent laughter. Maybe he didn't like the little girl 
look because he didn't want to think of his daughter as 
a little girl. 

Can I actually do it? he asked himself one final time. 
Can I 
actually have sex with her? 

He loved her, and he didn't want to screw up her life. 
But she had seduced him, not the other way around. He 
could've put a stop to things before they'd gone too 
far, but with brutal honesty, he admitted that he never 
really wanted to stop her. He'd been horny and starved 
for attention. 

He blamed Leanne. If she hadn't been such a cold 
bitch... He drew a deep breath and tried to relax. If 
Leanne hadn't cut him off, he wouldn't have been so 
horny. 

But no! She spreads her legs for everyone but me, he 
thought viciously. Fucking c-- He balled his fists and 
ground his teeth. 

"What's wrong?" Aly said. 

"Nothing," he lied. He took a deep breath and tried to 
clear his poisoned thoughts. 

Aly helped by distracting him--she talked about the 
girls onscreen. She liked blondes the most, but she 
didn't seem all that picky. She also liked girls with 
smaller breasts, which was no surprise. She liked the 
shaved look, although she really got excited by a 
redhead with her pubic hair trimmed into a heart shape. 

"Don't you think that's sexy?" 

He nodded. His erection had returned full-force, and it 
made an obvious bulge in his loose warm-ups. Without a 
word, Aly freed his manhood. She descended on it with a 
soft moan. 

Her lips wrapped around the head. Henry closed his eyes 
and rested his hand on the back of her head. Aly bobbed 
gently for several minutes, her lips smooth and soft. 
Henry felt like he was in a trance -- he still sensed 
the world around him, but it was fuzzy and soft. His 
daughter was giving him a blowjob, and he didn't see 
anything wrong with that. He wanted to fuck her, and he 
didn't see anything wrong with that either. 

"Let's go upstairs," Aly said at last, breaking the 
spell. 

He nodded absently. 

"I want to do it in your bed." 

That got through to him, and he shook his head. 

"What's the matter?" she asked. 

"We can't," Henry said. "Not there." 

"Why not? It's not like you and Mom--" 

"That's not the point, Aly," he said. He shook his head 
again, firmly. "Not there." 

"Okay," Aly said, "then my bed." 

"Not there either." 

"Dad, you're killing my best fantasies" she said, a bit 
perturbed. "Okay, how about your office?" 

He nodded. The door was still open from earlier, and 
she inhaled as soon as she walked into the suite. 

"When I was a little girl," she said, "I loved the 
smell of this place. Leather... wood... your cologne." 
She inhaled again and skipped down the hall. Her skirt 
flew up as she twirled at the door to his office. She 
became coquettish. "Do you want to do it on your desk?" 

Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared through 
the doorway. When he reached the office, she was 
sitting on his desk and kicking her feet girlishly. She 
spread her legs and beckoned. His mouth watered at the 
thought of going down on her. She must've had the same 
thought, because she lifted her skirt and bared her 
pussy. 

Henry knelt before her and put his hands on her inner 
thighs. Her skin was soft and smooth. He inhaled the 
aroma of her arousal. Then he flicked his tongue over 
her slit and tasted her. She gasped and her belly 
rippled. 

"Oh, God," she hissed, her fingers twined through his 
hair. She hissed again, her stomach quivering as he 
licked her folds. 

Her skirt bunched at her waist and he pushed it out of 
the way as he cupped her ass and lifted her hips. He 
circled her clit with his tongue and she cried out 
softly. 

He licked and sucked until he felt her tense up. Then 
he inserted a finger and pressed her G-spot. Her hips 
bucked, but he continued licking. She bucked again, but 
then sat up and pushed him away. She hadn't come. His 
brow furrowed with confusion. 

"Fuck me," she said. "Fuck me, please. I want to come 
with you inside me." 

He stood and unzipped his warm-up jacket. He tossed it 
aside and lowered the pants. He aimed his erection at 
Aly's pink and glistening slit. She tugged him forward 
and rubbed the head over her opening. Then she moved 
her hips and he was inside her. 

The shock of it hit him like a blow. He was inside his 
own daughter! He was fucking her. 

Without so much as a glimmer of guilt, he slid into 
her. He stopped when his hips pressed against the desk. 
She scooted toward him and groaned as he filled her 
completely. 

"Oh, God," she gasped, "fuck me." 

The words rang in his ears and the world faded to the 
background. Heat and moisture surrounded his cock. 
After more than a year of forced abstinence, his senses 
reeled with pure pleasure. 

With Aly urging him on, he began thrusting. His hips 
slapped her thighs, filling the room with the sounds of 
sex. She lay back on the desk. Then she lifted her 
shirt and bared her breasts. Her nipples bounced with 
each thrust. He lowered his lips and captured one. She 
hissed as he nibbled gently. 

The pressure built in his balls and he lifted his head 
from Aly's chest. She pulled his face up and kissed him 
long and deep, her tongue sparring with his. 

After a moment she broke the kiss and groaned as he 
filled her again. "Fuck me," she panted. "Come inside 
me. Fill me with come." 

He pushed himself up and concentrated on fucking her. 
She tugged at him, as if trying to get him to fuck her 
faster. He was going as fast as he could--the staccato 
sounds of his thrusts sounded like a person applauding. 

He felt a rush of heat and moisture as her pussy 
clenched him. 
Her eyes rolled back and she frantically tugged at her 
nipples. He kept pounding into her. His own climax was 
close, and his balls felt tight with the need for 
release. He groaned, low and guttural. 

"Oh, God, yes!" Aly screamed. Her pussy clenched again. 

With a final lunge, he buried himself as deep as he 
could and felt an explosion of pleasure. The sensation 
spread outward and engulfed him. He clamped his eyes 
shut and saw stars. Beneath him, Aly heaved in the 
final throes of her own orgasm. 

When Henry finally came to his senses, he was panting. 
Aly was too, but she gazed up at him with a look of 
satisfaction. His dick eventually went soft within her, 
and she made a moue as it slipped out. He smiled in 
apology. After all, he wasn't a twenty- year-old 
anymore. 

She smiled. "I love you." 

"I love you too, sweetheart." A pang of guilt speared 
him, but he ignored it. Aly was an adult. They were 
both adults. 

"Do you want to go for a swim to cool off?" she asked. 

He nodded. 

"And then maybe afterward," she suggested, "we can go 
up to my room." 

He shook his head. 

She pouted. "Why not?" 

"One taboo at a time, Aly," he said. 

Her expression brightened. "Tomorrow night?" 

Something within him stirred at the thought. "Maybe." 

----- 

The next day, Henry returned from work to find Aly in a 
classic little black dress. It clung to her lithe body 
and barely covered her ass. She had dinner ready, and 
she'd set two places at the end of the big mahogany 
table in the formal dining room. She even had candles 
and a bottle of wine. 

"I thought we should celebrate," she said. 

He'd begun to feel guilty about what they'd done. 
"Celebrate what?" he asked cautiously. 

"Oh, don't worry," she said. "I'm not in love with you 
or anything. I mean, I love you, but..." She looked 
exasperated for a moment. "I'm not going all romantic 
or anything. I just want you to fuck me." 

When her words registered, he forgot his guilt. "Do you 
always talk like this?" 

She smirked. "Only with my boyfriend." 

"Aly, I'm not your boyfriend." 

"Okay," she said. "Only with the man I'm fucking at the 
time." 

"Do you have to use that word?" 

"Fuck?" she asked. "What's wrong with it? It's what 
we're doing." 

"Aly, we're not... 'fucking.'" 

She grinned at his discomfort. "Then what're we doing, 
Dad?" 

He set his jaw. 

"Since Mom's not going to give you what you need, you 
should get it from somewhere. It's not healthy to go 
without sex. That's where I come in." 

"So I'm like a summer internship?" he asked, his 
feelings unexpectedly bruised. 

She moved close and pressed herself against him. "No, 
Dad, it's nothing like that." Her eyes softened. "I 
love you." 

"I love you too, kitten, but--" 

"I've always had the hots for you, Dad. I told you, I 
wanted you to take my virginity. But I'm not a girl 
anymore. I have needs. You do too. So why can't we take 
care of each other? We love each other, right?" 

He nodded. 

"And this is what people do when they love each other," 
she said. She sounded reasonable. Seductively 
reasonable. "I want to make you feel good. And you 
definitely make me feel good." She smiled and nodded 
toward the place settings. "So I thought we should 
celebrate our new relationship." 

"New relationship?" 

"We're lovers," she said simply. 

"Alyson, we're not lovers." 

"I love you. You love me. I want to fuck you. You want 
to fuck me. That sounds like lovers to me, Dad." 

"Do you have to keep using that word?" 

"Fuck," she said deliberately. "I want to fuck you, 
Dad. And I'm not the only one. I was telling Jordyn 
about last night, and--" 

"You did what?" 

"I told Jordyn," she said without blinking. 

He was dumbstruck. 

"Don't worry, she won't tell anyone." She pulled away 
and began serving their dinner. She talked casually, as 
if the conversation were an everyday chat. "She's 
totally hot for you. She wanted to come over tonight, 
but I told her some other time. She wants to do it on 
your desk, like you--" 

Henry recovered from his shock. "You told her, Aly? 
What in God's name were you thinking?" 

"Relax, Dad," Aly said. "She's known all along. Who did 
you think I was texting the whole time we were waiting 
for the mechanic?" 

Her phone, he thought. The text messages. The 
realization hit him and he felt his breath go out. 

"She was the one who suggested the hand-job with the 
massage. I was going to let you catch me masturbating." 

His eyes flew wide. 

"Her idea was better, though." She shrugged 
unapologetically. 

"So you were planning this all along?" 

"Not the breakdown part," she said, "but everything 
else." 

"Aly, I..." 

"Oh, Dad, don't be a prude. I've wanted to fuck you 
since I first realized what sex was." 

"Do you have to keep saying that?" 

"'Fuck,' Dad. It's just a word. Now, let's eat before 
it gets cold." 

He ate mechanically. His thoughts were a chaotic mess. 
If Aly and Jordyn had planned the whole thing...? Who 
else had she told? What if someone found out? 

"I thought we could watch some TV after dinner," Aly 
said innocuously. "And then maybe we can go for a swim 
once it gets dark. I like skinny dipping with you. It 
makes me horny thinking about nothing between me and 
your cock but the water." 

"Do you have to use that word, too?" 

"What word? 'Cock'?" 

He nodded. 

She rolled her eyes. "Dad, it's just a word. Besides, I 
like the sound of it." She grinned. "I like the feel of 
it better, but..." She took a sip of wine and gazed at 
him over the rim of her glass. "Will you relax, Dad? We 
can talk about sex like two adults, you know? I'm not a 
little girl anymore." She grinned smugly. "Jordyn said 
you'd be like this." 

He glared a question at her. 

"She said it'd take you a while to get used to it." Aly 
waved her wine glass. "I mean, I've had a long time to 
get used to the idea of fucking my own father." 

"Aly, please," he said. "Show some decorum." 

She set her wine glass down and turned serious. "I'm 
sorry, Dad. 
If you don't want me to say it, I won't say it." 

He compromised: "Just don't say it as often." 

She smiled. "I still want to do it, though. I want to 
do it as often as we can. We'll have to be careful when 
Mom gets home, but I think we can manage at least once 
a day." 

"Once a day?" 

She nodded casually. "I really want it more than that, 
but I don't know if we'll be able to manage." 

"You want more...?" 

"Mmm hmm. We'll figure something out," she said, her 
mind already working. Then she drew her eyes back to 
the table and set her wine glass down. "In the 
meantime, would you like an after-dinner blowjob?" 

He blinked at her nonchalance. 

She misunderstood and began to frown. 

He smiled. "Maybe a little later," he suggested, "in 
the pool." 

Her eyes lit up. "And then afterward," she said, "can 
we have sex in my bed?" 

He hesitated. 

"Please, Dad? You don't know how hot that makes me. I 
promise 
you'll enjoy it. Please?" 

He hesitated a moment longer, but his dick was already 
growing stiff at the thought. 

She sensed his crumbling resolve and broke into a 
smile. "We're going to have fun this summer," she 
gushed. "Jordyn and I are going to fuck your brains 
out. You'll love her. She's..." 

She chattered as they carried their plates back to the 
kitchen. 

Henry's nascent erection turned into a full-blown hard-
on, and he wondered if he'd be able to last until they 
went swimming. 

"Oh, God, Dad," Aly said at last. "I so can't wait to 
fuck you." With that, she pressed herself against him 
and rubbed his hard-on through his suit pants. Then she 
turned and bent over the breakfast counter. When she 
looked over her shoulder, her expression could've 
melted the polar ice caps. She tugged her dress up. She 
wasn't wearing panties. 

Henry's last shreds of his remorse vanished in a fog of 
arousal. 

She moaned as he entered her from behind. She was hot 
and wet and oh-so-tight. "Oh, God," she groaned. "We're 
going to have so much fun this summer." 

THE END 

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Kristen's collection - Directory 63