table beside his chair. His face wore a stupid grin and he welcomed his daughter. He was obviously drunk and drinking openly since Norma was not there to control him.
'Where's Denny?' he asked, blinking. 'You look horrible, sugar. Your hair-sh a mess. Christ, what've you been doing?' He drooled a little.
Joyce wanted to run and hurl herself in her father's arms, scream out the horror of her experience with the degenerate man, but she knew she should straighten herself up.
'Denny's still at the party,' she said. 'We had an argument, so I left and came home early, daddy.'
'You and your brother arguing?' he said. 'What the hell for?' He poured straight whisky into his glass. 'Hey, how come you're such a mess? Come here. Let me look at you.'
She could still hear the pitiful man's voice apologizing for molesting her. 'If you tell your folks, that'll be the end of me…' Somehow, she didn't want the man to get into trouble, at least not to go back to prison.
'I'm going to the bathroom for a second, daddy,' she said, trying to sound calm. 'I'll be right back.'
'In the John, she studied herself in the mirror. She cringed. Her hair was tangled and all stuck together from her molester's fondling and ejaculation. She looked as if she had been to some wild sexy orgy. From the vodka and all that crying, her eyes were red and puffy. She filled the bowl with water and hastily shampooed her hair. She rinsed it, then dried vigorously, trying to erase every trace of the hideous night's experience. When she returned again to the living room, her head was wrapped up in a turkish towel.
Her father crinkled his nose, squinting at her and trying to focus his eyes. 'What you do?' he asked. 'Take a bath?'
'Just washed my hair,' she replied. And then, without warning, tears flooded her eyes. She had managed to escape from her captor and get home safely. Grateful, all restraint left her, and she threw herself against her father, held him close. 'Daddy, Oh daddy,' she sobbed in despair.
'If Denny laid a hand on you,' he said, 'if your brother hurt you, I–I'll kick the shit outa him. Did he hurt my baby, huh?'
Gently, Joyce reached up and gently shushed her father's mouth with her hand. 'Denny didn't hurt me,' she said. 'No, daddy. We just argued and then I left and walked on home. On the way, I tripped and fell. That's all. Honest.'
'Bullshit! What did you argue about. Tell me, you hear?'
'I was just in a bad mood,' Joyce said, defending her brother. 'I just wanted to come home and be with you, daddy. It's all over now. Everything's O.K.'
Martin Reardon ceased ranting them, obviously pleased that his daughter preferred to be with him. Affectionately, he patted her head and began rubbing her back in a slow, circular motion. 'Daddy loves his li'l girl very much,' he said, rubbing her back more intently. 'My little girl came home to daddy, eh? Umm, that's nice, sugar.'
Joyce felt safe and secure in her father's arms. She kissed him on the cheek and nestled lovingly. His big hand felt good and reassuring against her as it moved down to the small of her back and lingered there briefly before it slid up under her blouse and continued stroking bare, smooth flesh. Joyce felt a warm, tingling sensation run up her spine. Breathing faster, she slipped her own hand onto his chest where his bathrobe had parted and ran her nails lightly along his furry chest. When he unclasped her bra and began rubbing harder over the entire length of her back she thought nothing of it.
'You're still daddy's baby, aren't you?' he said. 'Yep, and you're all grown up now.'
'Yessss, daddy,' she purred, palming his chest more urgently. Even after her earlier hideous experience, she felt herself being aroused. Yes, it was odd, but she felt that same secure and loving feeling she often felt with Denny. Her father's hand inched from her back to her breasts, then softly massaged them. To her astonishment, she did not resist and, glancing down, she saw her father's erection bulging against his bathrobe.
Swallowing, she found herself wondering what her daddy's prick looked like. She had never laid eyes on it. She tried to cast the thought out of her mind, but despite herself she wanted to touch it-maybe do even more to it! Was it because of that strange man masturbating in her hair, she wondered. True, his crooked organ had repulsed her, but at the same time the sight of his spurting prick and his desperate need had touched something off deep within her being. Something maternal? She did not know, or care!
Her daddy was fondling her breasts with one hand while his other hand pleasantly explored her tummy- moving steadily lower and nudging her pubic patch. Very slightly, she spread her legs, curious to see if he would actually touch her pussy. Suddenly, fear seized her and her body stiffened as she considered the consequences of her father's sexual advance.
'Here my li'l sweetheart,' he said abruptly, as though sensing her fear. You better take a little sip of this and calm down. Go ahead, honey. You'll feel better if you take a little belt.'
For the second time this evening Joyce felt the scalding heat of alcohol in her throat. There was the lovely warmth, too, as the alcohol began flowing through her veins. And then she felt good again-the way she'd felt at the party! Her father's hand still played with her titties, moving also nearer and nearer her dampening vagina. This alcohol was a miracle drug all right. All her fear had left!
She found herself mewing as she spread her legs still wider to bring his hand in contact with her moistening nest. 'Dadd-eeee' she moaned, as he began running his finger up and down the length of her damp, then gushing indentation, toying with her clit as he pressed harder against her nipples with his other hand.
Both of them breathed fast and hard now, and Joyce knew there was no return from the course they were taking. They both sensed this. 'It's so wonderful to be close to you this way,' Joyce moaned. 'Daddy, you make me feel so good. It's all right for me to feel this way, isn't it? What we're doing isn't wrong, is it?'
'You know it's all right,' he grunted. 'Your feelings tell you it's nice, huh? No, daddy wouldn't lie to you, dear. It'sh perfectly all right, honey.'
'I'll keep it a-a secret, though, daddy. A secret?'
'Yes, baby-keep it a secret…'
Now that they had established that what they were doing was perfectly all right, yet confidential, Martin Reardon's hands began moving without hesitation and uncertainty. He worked his hand up his daughter's skirt, parted her trembling knees forcefully and began massaging her wet slit and clit harder, urgently. He even parted his robe, revealing his naked, stiff and thick hard-on.
To Joyce's amazement, her father's hard-on was as stiff as any erection she had ever seen! Then it wasn't so that older men's pensies didn't get as hard as younger men's! This delighted her, for her father's cock stood proud and eager, ready to probe into cunt-heat. Joyce spasmed, then bent down and planted a kiss on the bulbous, dribbling head of the meaty monster. She longed to keep his respect, and therefore she tried to disguise her experience. But she wanted to nurse on her daddy's hard-on, suck it hard-just as she had sucked Roger's and Denny's. She teased his balls, trying to gather courage to go down on him.
She was grateful when he began applying pressure to the back of her head. She bent forward, took the head of the stiff meat between her eager lips and began working slowly, deliciously, up and down. She wanted to suck him off just perfectly-give him the best blow job in the world. Because he was older and more experienced sexually, she felt she dared not displease or disappoint him. Soon, she guessed she was giving him a good blow job, because he murmured: 'Umm, what a good girl! What a perfect li'l sweetheart.' His voice was very distant. 'Keep it up… don't stop… that's fine, Joyce. You're sucking daddy's prick very, very nicely.'
And then he was promising her all lands of crazy, drunken things-presents, money, his undying love and devotion. She loved hearing these words as she took his prick as far back as possible into the depths of her throat and listening to his grunts and felt his hands harshly directing her tempo and the depth of his penetration.
Spurred on, she cradled his furry balls in her hands and jiggled them as she licked and gulped on his hard cock. Then, to her surprise, he suddenly stopped her sucking efforts, hastily carried her over to the couch and slid her panties down and over her ankles. He tossed the panties aside, lifted her legs just below the knees and lifted until her cunt and ass became a sort of platform.
'Dadd-eee,' she breathed. 'Are you going to fuck me, daddy?'
Her knees were up and pressed against her shoulders as he stared in awe at her spread cunt and rectum. She loved the thought of offering her daddy everything she possessed… letting her daddy have anything he wanted from her. She loved the look on his face as, moaning, he went on staring with lust-crazed eyes at her pussy.
'A-Are you going to fuck me, daddy?' she asked rather timidly.
'Yes, sugar,' he panted. 'But first daddy's gonna kiss your tight, pretty snatch-that beautiful cunt-and then
