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BECKY RIDER - Part 3

Author: Dayvid Notellin (dnt_x-asstr@yahoo.com)

Title: Becky Rider

Part: Part 3

Summary: Dane freaks out, splits, works it out, returns, and they all come together, pun intended.

Keywords: MFg(8), inc, cons, exhib, voy, ped, ageplay

Date: 06/28/2017

[Author's Note]

 

Fuck you. Call me a chicken. Call me stupid. Call me a damn taxi if you want to. But I challenge any of you to do any better under the circumstances. It's one thing to be getting the banging of your life with a beautiful girl. But it's entirely different thing when you see her eight-year-old daughter watching you do it. And it's a still third thing when that wonderful lover of yours doesn't stop it. Stop it hell, Carol never looked happier than when we finished and saw Becky standing in the doorway of the bedroom, rubbing herself.

 

I did what any reasonable-minded, responsible, rational, sane, clear-headed, normal male would do - I bolted. One moment I was laying spent on the bed, Carol straddling me as my cum leaked out her pussy onto my crotch - the next I was in my car driving like a maniac for home. For safety. For sanity.

 

Now an analyzing kinda guy might notice that I used an awful lot of synonyms for "sane" et al. There's a reason for that. The reason was that I knew it was the most insane thing I could have done, and my brain was trying to badger my moral compass into agreeing that it had been the right thing to do. One might naturally assume that the "moral compass" would be in agreement with the brain in saying I should get the hell outa there. But my moral compass is too honest for that crap. I knew, deep in my heart, that Carol had shared something real and beautiful with me - and I'd freaked out and dumped all over it. But fear knows no logic - it's reflexive. And I'd been trained all my life to be terrified of snakes, spiders, and situations that might get me lynched. Don't judge me, you weren't there.

 

I'd like to say that it took me a few days before the guilt set in, but it didn't. It started itching on the inside of my scalp before I even left her driveway. Even so, it took a week before I decided to admit to myself that I'd been a complete ass. And I'd love to say that upon realizing I'd been a horse's ass, I did the right thing by picking up the phone and calling Carol to apologize.

 

But I'm a guy. And ever guy learns shortly after birth that he's never, ever, under any circumstances, allowed to be wrong. And that so long as you don't admit you're wrong, everything will be fine. And that all that goes ten times as much for any dealings with the fairer sex. That's why it was actually impossible for me to call her after a week. A day - maybe. Two? Perhaps if my life depended on it. A week? Not if God himself stood on my neck and demanded it.

 

The second week was hell. Is it possible for a guy to fall in love in one night? Yah, it is. And I'd caught the sickness, no doubt. What was seriously messed up though was that it wasn't just Carol. Every times I remembered Becky's face as I darted past her in my hasty exit, my heart broke all over again. I knew the score - she (and her mother) had trusted me. God alone knew why, but they had. And I'd betrayed them. And it sucked. And I still couldn't find the balls to make it right. Fear still ruled.

 

The third and fourth week found me a wreck. It wasn't that I couldn't sleep, it was that I couldn't stop sleeping. A friend pointed out that that looked a lot like depression and told me if I didn't see a shrink, he'd personally drag my ass to the nut-house and toss me in. So I went.

 

How do you tell someone you're all messed up over a girl half your age - and her daughter of eight? The first part, maybe. It's not unheard of for a forty-something to fall for a twenty-something. Hell, sometimes it even works out. But a pre-teen? I'd have been locked up - but not in the loony bin! So I tried to be as honest as I could while omitting any mention of the younger part of the equation. The ol' doc was pretty sharp. He knew I wasn't being 100% with him, and he said as much. He also said it didn't matter. He said nobody's 100% with any doc of any kind. He just kinda sat and listened and encouraged me to say what much I could.

 

He also suggested I write what I couldn't say. Put it in a private notebook and don't let nobody read it. Not unless I wanted to. He said everyone needs to confess, but that the healing ain't for the one they're confessing to, it's for the one doing the confessing. So if I could confess to a sheet of paper, that was a hell of a lot better than just letting it swim around in my head, stirring up my brains and making me crazy. Like I said, sharp.

 

So I ain't the greatest writer in the word. I'm just a geek. The first few times I tried, I ended up deleting the files. (Geeks don't confess to paper, we confess to screens.) My brain started telling me how dangerous it was putting stuff like that where someone somewhere could find it. If there's one thing geeks know, it's that digital is forever. So I put the thinker to work on how to get 'er done anyway. I studied up on encrypting files, and in a couple of days I had located and installed a secure document system. Now I could write it all down like the doc said.

 

So I did. Slowly at first. A few sentences. A paragraph. Lots of time between spent trying to avoid sitting down and typing more. A part of me didn't want to do this thing. Duh. I talked to the doc about it, and he confirmed my theory. "That's the part of you that doesn't want to resolve the dilemma," he said. "Most likely also the part that wants things to stay the same. Doesn't want you to grow. And sure as heck doesn't want you to get involved in any sort of relationship. You can always delete the files again." (I'd told him about the several times I'd already done just that.)

 

Naturally I balked at the word "relationship", but he just laughed and told me I was already in the relationship - the only question was, did I want it to keep making me crazy, or did I want to work it out. Doctors are assholes.

 

It took a while - way longer than I thought it would. Way, way, way longer than it should have. But I worked it out in the end. The plain truth of the matter was that I had fallen head-over-heels with Carol and Becky, and wanted very much to be involved with them. But of course, that would mean - must mean - that I'd be getting physically involved with an eight-year-old girl. It also meant that I'd be getting involved with a woman - her mother - who condoned that sort of thing. But even without knowing all the details, the doc was sharp enough to realize that in the end, it all came down to one thing. Did I love this woman, yes or no.

 

That was a tough one. I'd met her exactly twice. We'd had sex exactly once. How the hell could I love her? And the kid! We'd done even less together - played a bit is all. For her, I was just a guy who let her bounce on his knee! Or anyway, that's what the DoubtMonster kept telling me. (That's what the doc called it. Stupid name, but he said everyone's got a part of their brain that is constitutionally incapable of believing themselves worthy of love.)

 

So yeah, it took a while. In fact, it took so long that before I was half way through it all, I became convinced that it was too late - the girls had moved on. Some other dude was letting Becky ride his knee. Some other man's cock was experiencing the bliss of Carol's wild side. There were tears, which really sucked, cos guys don't cry. So when it happens anyway, it's sort of like squeezing an elephant through a doorway. Another great metaphor. But the doc said it didn't matter - what mattered was that I resolved it in my own mind, came to terms with the reality, and moved on with my life.

 

Six weeks after I'd run out of her home, I stood in front of Carol's front door. Doc said that was actually pretty quick, but I swear to God it felt like six centuries. And this standing-at-the-door thing had stopped time completely. The only reason I knocked at all was that the damned doc had pointed out that if I didn't, I'd be kicking my ass over and over until I did or died. So I knocked.

 

It took me a couple of times before I realized that knocking on a brick wall wasn't going to make much noise. My brain - she no work good! I rang the bell, and it sounded like a claxon. No, not really, but in my mind the whole damn neighborhood heard it, peeked out their windows, and whispered to each other, "There's that pervert who wants to get together with that other pervert and do pervert things to that poor child! Good thing she's gonna tell him to get bent!" Shut the fuck up! I shouted at my brain. The damned thing was out of control.

 

I heard the sound of footsteps, then saw the light through the peek hole. I made sure I was clearly visible. If she wanted to tell me to go to hell, that was fine. I'd earned it. But she didn't. In fact, she didn't do anything - didn't open the door, didn't say go to yell, didn't yell, or cry or call the cops or anything. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

 

"Ahem," I cleared my throat - it needed it. "Tech support?" I asked.

 

Silence. Tick. Tock.

 

"You're an ass." Carol's voice was barely audible through the door. Or maybe it was the pounding in my ears.

 

"I'm an ass," I agreed.

 

Tick. Tock.

 

"Last chance," she stated. It wasn't a question, it was a statement as inflexible as slate.

 

My heart leaped to my throat. There was a chance! "L..." I tried to talk, couldn't. Coughed. Got it out. "Last chance," I agreed. It was a contract.

 

"You're sure?" It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn there was hope in that voice now.

 

I thought about it. Then I wondered what the hell I was thinking about it for. I'd spent the last six weeks thinking about it, pretty much to the exclusion of anything else. And I'd been sure since the drive home that night - it's just taken me this long to get my shit together. But how do you tell that to a woman who has every reason to doubt it?

 

I'm not really an idiot, though I do seem to play that role a lot. My brain can be used for good as well as for evil. So I slapped it a few times and told it to come up with something - something good. Something that would tell let her know I'd thought it through and was committed. Several possibilities came out. "Daddy's home?" Yeah, that'd get me shot. It may be true, if I was lucky, but that wouldn't convince her. "Please darling take me back and I'll never stray again?" No, that was something that pussy-whipped near-men say when they're caught cheating. And cheating would never be a problem with us anyway - hell, I was sure that if I managed to get together with her again, Carol would welcome other women into our bed. No, I had to do better. And time was ticking. It was seconds, but seconds in a situation where seconds were hours.

 

"No," I finally said. "I'm not sure." I paused, mustering my courage before I went on. "I'm not sure why the hell you should give me another chance. But I am sure that I'll never let you or Becky regret it if you do."

 

The knob turned, and the door creaked open a bit. Carol looked through the crack. "That was actually pretty good. How long did it take you to come up with it?" she asked. "Nice touch, evoking the name of the child."

 

"I spent most of my adult life working on it," I admitted. "All six weeks of it. Look, I fu-" I remembered that Becky might be on the other side of the door. "I messed up. Bad. I freaked out. You were just too perfect. Becky was just too perfect. I couldn't deal with it and my brain short-circuited. I know it's no excuse, but it's what happened. I got some help working it out, and here I am, hoping I can make it right." My voice cracked. "I really miss you guys. I know it's stupid, and sudden, but damnit, I fell for you - both - hard. And I just wasn't prepared for it." Like an engine that's run out of steam, I ran down, almost panting.

 

"No flowers?" Carol asked, the lilt of humor in her voice, and I knew I'd won myself another shot at the lottery.

 

"I can go get you some. Or we can snack and talk."

 

I'd intentionally waited until late evening for this visit, not wanting to interrupt her dinner plans, whatever they might be. I personally hadn't eaten since breakfast - no appetite, knowing what I'd have to do that night. And now that hope was back, I found myself famished.

 

"Men," she said, swinging the door wide to let me in. "Always thinking with their stomachs. First, though, she's in her room. First door on the right." As I brushed past her into the entryway, she kissed me on the cheek and whispered in my ear, "Just be honest with her."

 

Steeling myself for Round Two, but heartened by the fact that there was a Round Two to steel myself for, I made my way down the hall. My brain kept trying to come up with some bullshit excuse for my behavior, and I had to keep slapping it back down. Good brain, but not when it's trying to save my ego.

 

The door was obvious. Stickers. Pictures. A big glittery "Becky" sign. I tapped.

 

"Come in," she called, her sweet voice sending a trill down my spine. I entered.

 

The room was everything you'd expect an eight-year-old girl's room to be. There were rainbows and unicorns and stuffed animals and puffy things and lacy things and lots of pink and white amid the many other bright colors. There was a desk with a laptop on it, and a bed with more stuffed animals that should be able to fit in that much surface area. And there was an angel sitting in the middle of the floor at a mini-table with toy teacups and a plastic teapot. The angel looked at me and asked, "Tea?"

 

I grinned. "One lump please," and sat down cross-legged on the opposite side of the little table. She "poured" the "tea", handing me the cup and carefully depositing one lump of sugar. I stirred it, sipped cautiously - it was hot - and smiled. "Perfect honey," I said.

 

She looked at me suspiciously. "Honey?" she asked.

 

"Honey." I said. "You're too sweet for sugar." She grinned. "Momma said you'd be back an' that we just hadda be patient." She "sipped" her own "tea". "I wasn't so sure. It's been like, forever!"

 

"Your mother's very wise. And I'm sorry it took so long. I had to figure out what was really important." I knew it would be okay, but part of me was still worried. "Uh, she and you have talked about... the... uh..."

 

She giggled, her nose scrunching up cutely. "Bout the sex thing? Yah. Momma been telling me forever that we can't let nobody know. Gotta be secret. Family only."

 

I nodded, but then something else occurred to me. "That's fine honey, only... the first day we met..."

 

She grinned even bigger. "That's when I knew you was family! The way you looked at me even tho I was bein' kinna naughty on your leg." She giggled. "Most grownups stop me. You dinn't. An' you liked me doin' it - I could tell. An' then when momma liked you too I knew for sure." She scowled and it was like clouds covering the sun. "But you ran away, an' I was gonna be really sad!"

 

"I'm sorry honey," I said, but it was superfluous. She didn't even hear me. The clouds disappeared as she continued.

 

"But momma tol' me you'd be back, an' that when you came back, we could play together alla time!"

 

"Not all the time," Carol's voice came from the doorway, where she was peeking in on us. "We still have chores, and homework, and the rest of life stuff to do. And like I keep telling you, little Energizer Bunny - guys don't work the same way and we have to share him and not wear him out all the time."

 

Becky rolled her eyes. "I know mo-ther," she said. "I meant all the time like as in not just once in a while! Sheesh!"

 

I was surprised as much by how well Becky had taken it as I was by Carol's keen perception. I hadn't known I'd be back, how could she? It wasn't until later, when we were in private, that she explained that she wasn't certain either, but that she hoped so - so she'd kept the uncertainty to herself. If I hadn't come back, Becky was young enough Carol could distract her until I was all but forgotten. A wise woman indeed!

 

Carol came in and joined our tea party, and we chatted and joked for a while. I was so relieved and happy that it was actually a little while before I realized I was sitting across from two very pretty girls, both of whom were in their nighties - and sitting cross-legged on the floor. Being the horndog that I am, once I noticed this, I couldn't help but try to sneak peeks under the hems. The nighties were both light cotton, so I was certain neither wore bras - hell, neither one needed to wear them anyway. But I was dying to know if they had on panties. I couldn't see any panty lines, and the cotton stretched over their forms leaving little to the imagination.

 

Carol caught me first, and laughingly reached over to slap me on the shoulder. "Dane, you pervert! You're trying to peek up my little girl's nightie!"

 

It felt strange being open about it, but clearly this was what she wanted, so I tried. "You caught me," I admitted, feeling a bit of a flush creeping up my neck. Essentially I was admitting to being a peeping-tom sort of pervert, trying to get a peek at a little girl's undercarriage.

 

Becky looked from Carol, to me, back to Carol. Apparently she got some answer from Carol, because she grinned and lifted her hems, giving me a clear view. No, she wasn't wearing panties. And yes, her little eight-year-old pussy was as smooth and pristine - and as lovely - as I'd imagined so often over the past few weeks.

 

Instantly my mouth was watering, and I wondered what the policy would be. Obviously Carol would have full authority over what would and what would not be permitted. And I already knew that she had okay'd Becky rubbing herself on me and watching Carol and I make love. What else was in the offing though?

 

Carol tittered. "Jesus Dane, if you stared at her cunny any harder, it'd catch fire!"

 

Bashfully I looked away, suddenly acutely aware of how pervy I was being, but when I glanced at Carol, she didn't look annoyed - she looked happy about it.

 

"Uhm, momma?" Becky said a bit huskily, "it kinna is catching fire." I glanced back at Becky, instantly noticing two things. First, she was flushed - and it looked a lot more like arousal than embarrassment - and second, she'd lifted and spread her knees, giving me an even better look at her delightful pussy.

 

"Uh, honey," I said to Carol, my eyes never leaving Becky's bare slit, "I think Becky may be a teeny bit exhibitionistic.

 

Gee, ya think?" she responded, her voice oozing sarcasm. "I swear, sometimes it's all I can do to keep her from flashing every man in a five-mile radius! Sweetie? Why don't you just go ahead and get naked, and let Dane get a good look at you? You know he wants to see everything, and I know darn well that you want to show him everything!"

 

Becky giggled, knowing her mother was right. She scrambled to her feet, then quickly shucked her nightie, standing before me, bare as the day she was born.

 

I don't care what anyone else says. There's naked, and there's NAKED. I'd never seen a girl as naked as Becky was then. It was as if every centimeter of her body was impacting my retinas, driving the image into my brain indelibly. Eight years old. Small. Slight. Fair skinned. Delicate. Pale. Pink. Sexy beyond imagining and also as innocent as Eve. Don't ask me how a little girl can be both incredibly sexy, even sensuous, and yet still remain utterly and completely innocent. As far as I'm concerned, it's magic.

 

She turned, letting my eyes take her in from all sides. Her hair was a bit longer now, actually touching the crack of her ass, and her ass was well beyond perfect - it was art. She made two full, slow circuits before Carol's tittering broke my reverie.

 

"Sorry," I said, tearing my eyes off her. "Didn't mean to stare." I was a bit discomfited and therefore said it a little grumpily.

 

"Oh don't be a poo-head," Carol laughed. "She's beautiful. I love looking at her too. That's not what's funny - that is."

 

I looked where she was pointing, which was between my legs. I was still sitting cross-legged, and my erection was literally "comically obvious". No wonder she'd laughed!

 

But it had been a good-natured laugh. An approving laugh. And it was joined by Becky, who was now also looking at my bulge. I started to move to adjust - to hide my erection, but Carol stopped me.

 

"No Dane. If you get to look at her, it's only fair that she gets to look at you too."

 

I stopped, of course, but it was uncomfortable. I'd never been much of an exhibitionist, and it felt very odd to let this child gaze openly at my crotch. But I manned-up and held still, finding to my surprise that once I went with it, it was kind of exciting, in a pervy sort of way.

 

"But momma," Becky complained, "I don't get to see like he gets to see, so it's still not fair. Not really," she added, fading out - not quite complaining, but clearly feeling slighted.

 

"She has a point," Carol said, and I knew what was next. But at least she was nice about it. "Would you mind getting undressed and letting my daughter ogle your naked body Dane?"

 

I wanted to say, "Yes, I would mind." But I knew that this was going to be the norm for as long as these two let me be part of their world. The alternative was unthinkable. And besides, Becky had exposed herself for me, it really was sort of unfair that I was still covered.

 

I clambered to my feet, surprised that Carol was doing so also. I began getting undressed, and was delighted to see that Carol too slid out of her nightie. Soon all three of us were naked together. I was clearly outclassed, being a mere mortal among two goddesses. I knew I was nothing special to look at, but I also felt a thrill that they wanted to look at me naked, including my turgid member, which was so hard I could smack it and it would ring like a tuning fork.

 

Becky twirled her finger in the air, and I laughed, but turned around slowly for her. Fair is fair. Then I realized I'd been had. She'd already seen me naked - while I'd been fucking her mother! I turned to her to accuse her of this, but was stopped by the clear desire in her eyes.

 

Now I'd seen women aroused and wanting me before. Hell, Carol had that look now too, and I could understand that - after all, she and I had really got on well in bed last time. But what could Becky desire? Surely she didn't think we'd be fucking! Having first-hand experience at how wonderfully tight her mother's pussy was, there was no doubt in my mind that Becky wasn't ready for that!

 

I needn't have worried. Carol held out her hand to her daughter. "Come on honey, I think you need a release, yes?"

 

"Yes," Becky said in all seriousness. "Definitely!" She took her mother's hand, and Carol guided her around the little table, drawing her to the bed. With a practiced sweep, she knocked the stuffed animals onto the floor on the opposite side of the bed, then guided her daughter onto the bed, laying her down on her back.

 

With practiced fingers, Carol began to caress her daughter's naked body. Almost immediately Becky was moaning her pleasure and squirming on the bed, and Carol's hands hadn't even approached her thighs yet! Becky was obviously in a highly aroused state, and seeing her like that was increasing my arousal as well, much as a flagon of gasoline will increase the flames of a small campfire. My cock was bobbing, and I had to scoop the drop of precum from the tip and rub it into my hip, lest it land somewhere it oughtn't.

 

"Dane sweetie," Carol said gently. I nodded, and she continued. "I do know how much you love eating pussy, and I know how much you adore our little girl's taste and smell. I think it would make her quite happy if you could give her a ride."

 

I looked at her, not understanding. Ride her? No, that wasn't it. Did Becky want to grind on his leg again? But it seemed that her mother's hands, which were moving slowly toward her sweet little pussy, would give her greater pleasure. Carol noted my confusion and laughed.

 

"Like a mustache ride, without the mustache?" she prompted me.

 

My mouth watered. Carol was offering me a taste of her little girl's sweet pussy!

 

"I'd love that," I said, grinning wolfishly at her and making her giggle.

 

Carol's smile grew huge. "Excellent! C'mon cherub!" she said, pulling on Becky's arm. The little girl slid off the bed to stand beside her mother, as I looked on, wondering what was up. Didn't she want me to lick Becky's cunny? I was disappointed, but it's hard to stay mad when ogling two sex-goddesses.

 

"Well?" Carol said, gesturing to the bed. I looked at it, then back at her, confused.

 

"Lay down, dimwit!" she growled, annoyed at my obtuseness.

 

"Oh!" I said, climbing onto the bed. I started to lay on my side facing the girls, but Carol rolled me onto my back. Then she had me slide down so my head was well below where the pillows would be, had there been any left on the bed. Then I finally figured it out as she helped Becky up onto the bed, and I assisted as the little girl positioned herself on her knees - with her knees on either side of my head as I gazed up at the most amazing sight ever - an eight-year-old girl's pussy, inches above my face and lowering slowly to my mouth.

 

Reaching up I took her ass in my hands - her very firm ass, and helped guide her, pausing her while she was about an inch above me. Extending my tongue, I began to lick along her slit and around her puffy pussy.

 

The scent and taste of her panties that first night were nothing compared to the fresh, pure, straight-from-the-source pussy taste I was now getting. She tasted even sweeter, even sexier that I thought, and more delicious by far. In no time I was eating out that child's cunny in earnest, my tongue sliding along her slit and dipping into her entrance to suck and lick up her juices. She wasn't open enough for even my tongue to slip inside, and doubtless this angle didn't help her relax those muscles, but it didn't matter. Just to be licking and sucking her beautiful, sweet pussy was more than I'd ever expected or even thought possible.

 

I was so enraptured - enthralled - eating her cunny that I completely failed to notice the signals, and the gush of wet juices when she climaxed caught me off-guard. Fortunately my mouth was open at the moment, and I caught much of that wonderous flavor, gulping greedily. Nevertheless, there was still plenty that I missed, completely covering my face and neck and even my shoulders, dripping into my ears and soaking into the bed. Nobody cared though. In fact, Becky took it as her cue. With my face slick and wet with her juices, she began to rub herself against my mouth and nose and chin and even my forehead and hair. It was wonderful beyond words, and her juices continued to trickle, keeping us wet and slick until she came again.

 

This time I was paying attention and sensed the approach, opening wide and locking myself to her cunny, determined to get every drop of her juices, sucking hard to help her achieve her climax. And achieve it she did, crying out in gasping breaths and delivering a torrent into my greedy mouth.

 

As her climax abated, this time I found that her cunny was relaxed enough that my tongue could actually penetrate her entrance - so I did. Slipping it up and wiggling had an immediate and profound effect on the girl. She ground directly down on my mouth, as if trying to get my tongue deeper into her while howling her pleasure. "Momma! His tongues inside me! Oh my God momma! It feels sooo good! Imma cummagain aready... uh... uhhh... UGHHH!" Different stimulations made for different climaxes, and this time her juices didn't gush out, though they flowed readily enough into my mouth. Also, her cunny spasmed, fluttered, squeezing my tongue HARD and releasing. She was loving it, grinding down and grunting like a hog in mud, her hands on my thighs squeezing (thank God she didn't have any fingernails to speak of!) And she kept on grinding, so I kept on licking and tongue-fucking her and she kept on cumming on my tongue.

 

I couldn't say how long it went on like that, the little girl grinding and cumming and grinding and cumming, but when Carol finally smacked her on the ass to put a stop to it, the girl's body was covered with sweat and she was trembling from head to toe. She flopped forward, nearly breaking off my cock, it was so hard. Carol took her in her arms, soothing her and I joined in as soon as I was able to get out from under her.

 

I was worried that I'd overdone it, perhaps pushing her too far, too fast as she lay there sweat-soaked and trembling like a newborn deer. But under Carol's and my caresses, the girl's overtaxed muscles relaxed, and we finally got her relaxed enough to slip her in between the sheets and atop a pillow. It was clear that Carol thought she'd had enough for tonight and was putting her child to bed. But she made me very much a part of the process, showing me how Becky liked to be tucked in and kissed goodnight, as if she had ever expectation that I'd be doing this regularly. Becky was so spent I'm pretty sure she was asleep before we finished tucking her in. And then she proved me wrong. As I started to turn, to join her mother at the doorway, she reached out and took my hand.

 

"Thank you, daddy," she mumbled. My heart erupted, and I had difficulty keeping my eyes from watering. Probably allergies, I mumbled to Carol as I passed her in the doorway. She pulled the door mostly closed, giggling gently. "Sure stud, sure."

 

We flew to Carol's bedroom. I couldn't speak for her, but I was so far beyond ready, it was frankly a miracle I hadn't shot off yet.

 

Once inside, Carol closed the door. I knew it wasn't for privacy though - more likely to block the noise somewhat so her child could sleep. Then she turned to me, looking up at me with big, loving, and blissfully happy eyes.

 

"Oh Dane, you made her so happy! Thank you!" She signaled and I bent down, kissing her deeply and with feeling. It went on for some time before she pulled back. She had that look on her face, and as she spoke, she brought back her "little girl" voice which I'd found so arousing last time.

 

"She called you daddy," she said, blinking up at me.

 

"Uh huh..." I replied cautiously. I hoped it wasn't going to be a problem. I hadn't asked her to. And besides, if memory served, Carol had called Becky "our" girl earlier.

 

"Guess that makes us sisters," Carol giggled, showing she'd been teasing me.

 

"Why you little," I growled, smacking her on the ass as she dove for the bed. I followed her, grabbing her and pinning her down and kissing her roughly. She struggled just enough to make it fun without letting the struggles be mistaken for real. I pinned her, still kissing her deeply as I used my knees to spread her legs as if forcing her.

 

"Oh daddy! What are you doing?" she gasped, struggling (but not very hard) to get her hands free as I held her wrists.

 

"Oh, you'll find out," I hesitated, uncertain if she wanted name-calling or not. I chanced it. "You'll find out what I'm going to do to you, you little slut!" I watched her eyes closely to see how she'd react.

 

She reacted as I'd hoped (and expected). Her eyes flamed with arousal. "Daddy noooo! Imma good girl," she said, though in struggling to escape, she managed to get her legs wrapped around my waist. "Dun put that thing in me daddy, I'm your little girl! Dat's just so wrong!" she scolded me, holding still as she felt me lowering myself so as to not foil my aim. My turgid member was at her sopping wet cunny, and I lay it along her groove, shifting my hips to slide it along the length a few times before backing up enough for the head to slip down to her entrance.

 

"Admit it, you little cunt," I growled. "You want daddy's big fat cock inside you, don't you! You're nothing but a little tease-whore, but what you really want is a nice hard fuck from your father!"

 

"No daddy! No... no... nooo..." she said, each "no" getting softer as I the tip pressed inward with increasing pressure. Then when the tip finally overcame the resistance and popped inside, she screamed, "YES DADDY! YES! FUCK ME DADDY!" and her heels dug into my ass, pushing me into her.

 

She'd been a good girl all night, letting her little sister be the center of attention, and deserved her reward. So I did exactly as she asked. I slammed into her full-length - she was more than slick enough for it. Then withdrew and slammed it in again. Holding it there to grind on her cunt a bit with my pelvis, I then began fucking her, hard and fast, the way an animal might.

 

"Come on you little slut," I panted in her ear as I pinned her down and fucked her ruthlessly. "Little slut-girl wanted some daddy-dick, now you got it. So show daddy what a big girl you are. Cum all over my cock you perverted little whore. Make daddy proud with big cums!"

 

She was beside herself. It was exactly what she'd wanted - to be owned, used, fucked by her "daddy", told what a slut she was so that she could let herself go with complete abandon. Her body thrashed beneath me as she "tried" to get loose and as she convulsed as my cock-pounding and rude fucking drove her relentlessly from one climax to the next. It took all I could muster to keep from shooting, but I knew I owed her this - and so much more - and I was determined not to climax until I'd paid my first installment with the randy, full-on fucking she wanted. No, needed.

 

The big one finally arrived, and we both knew it. I was panting hard, sweat dripping down my back from my exertions and her whole body was trembling as her daughter's had been earlier. She'd gone from profanities to merely pant-whispering "yes daddy" over and over again as the tension grew and mounted, and grew and mounted, and finally erupted like a volcano. Her pussy erupted like a volcano too, sending her juices everywhere, soaking my thighs and belly as I continued to slam into her so hard it sprayed her juices all over. Her pussy - nay, her entire body was spasming, and I finally let go. My over-taxed balls let loose with a torrential flow of hot cum, spraying into her hard-fucked cunt hole with rapid-fire spurts that started at the base of my head, shocked their way down my spine, lit my balls aflame, and finally fired out my cock-gun into my woman like bullets of pleasure.

 

We lay together in the soaking bed, panting, twitching, unable to move, trying to fight our way back to this world. It was a tremendous effort, but it'd been unbelievably pleasurable. I felt like every muscle in my body had been individually disconnected and laid out, utterly useless. I lay there a long time, marveling at the night's events, at this woman's wisdom and ability. Sex aside, there was no way I could NOT love such a woman.

 

As I continue laying there, barely summoning the energy to continue to caress her gently as she too recovered, I grew aware of a rhythmic shaking on the bed. It took me far too long to figure out, but my brain was not in good thinking condition. But finally I realized that Carol was crying.

 

"Shhh honey, it's all right," I said, my suddenly-responsive muscles drawing her into my embrace. I almost had her there when she suddenly stopped and began pounding my chest with her fists, her tears landing hotly on my skin with her blows. "You arrogant fucking asshole," she growled. "I thought I'd fallen in love and lost you forever all in one night. If you ever pull that kind of shit again, I'll... I'll..." She broke down again, falling against my chest, sobbing.

 

I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight and rocking her like a child. "Shhh honey, it's okay. I'm sorry, truly I am. And don't worry, nothing like that will ever happen again. I promise." I held her for another while longer as she relaxed against me, letting me soothe her, her tears trying, though she'd occasionally give me a small punch and call me a bastard. Fair enough.

 

We were both very near sleeping when Becky slid into bed with us. Thought naked (as were Carol and I), she was there for company and sleep, and was unconscious again in a few minutes. I found myself with one beautiful young girl on my right arm, another, equally beautiful though much younger girl on my left arm, and for the first time in six weeks, contentment in my heart.

 

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