First part: Girl Scout Troop 6969
It was several months after the events related in Girl Scout Troop 6969 and winter break was upon us. Becky had decided to come home rather than go someplace warm like Florida. It was really nice having Becky home as I had been missing the girls. When she walked in, it was like she had never left for college. I took her out to dinner the first night to celebrate.
Of course, the next day Maria, Jamie, and Lindsey showed up to see Becky. It was uncomfortable to be around these three lovelies while Becky was there. The three minxes didn't make it easy, either. All three went out of their way to tease me when Becky wasn't watching. I finally fled to the TV room. I kept hearing uproarious laughter from the girls and couldn't help worrying that the girls would divulge our little secret to Becky. Then I heard a loud "NO!" from the front room and silence. I didn't hear a thing on the TV as I listened for more from the front room.
A while later Becky came into the den with a funny look on her face. Worried, but putting on a happy face, I asked her, "What's up?"
"I was just wondering what's for dinner," she said.
"How about Dad's pasta," I said. Dad's pasta was a special pasta I make. Several years before Becky started to say I always made it when I was happy and started calling it, Dad's pasta. It had become our own inside joke.
She smiled, "That would be perfect." Becky poured herself onto the couch and started watching with me. I quickly got caught up in the program, a spaghetti western. A while later I looked over at Becky. She was appraising me intently. I couldn't tell what she was thinking, but I was uneasy with the intensity of her eyes on me. What had those girls told her? There was no way I could ask that question. It would only make her curious if they hadn't told her. I was sure that the girls wouldn't tell Becky. They just couldn't. It's amazing how a guilty conscience makes us think things that we know just can't be true, right?
Becky helped me get everything ready for dinner. She grabbed a bottle of Chianti as we sat down and poured both of us a generous glass. I had always let her drink at home. When I was in Europe I noticed that European kids didn't tend to do the stupid things because of alcohol that American kids do. I think there is no mystery around alcohol for them as they can drink early. They get that out of their systems before they careen a vehicle off the road at ninety miles-an-hour and kill four people.
It was fun having Becky home for dinner. We laughed and talked and pretty soon the wine was empty. Becky got up and opened another bottle. I was feeling the wine and thought that maybe I had best slow down or I'd be asleep. I could tell that Becky was feeling it too.
We finished dinner. Becky sent me into the den and cleaned up. I had turned on the TV when she came in carrying the remains of the wine and our glasses. She poured some for both of us and sat on the couch. "Dad, come sit with me."
"I'm comfortable," I said.
"Dad, I've really missed you. Come sit with me," she said patting the couch.
"I've missed you too."
"Then get your lazy behind out of the chair and sit with me," she scolded me.
I couldn't deny her so I clambered out of my favorite chair and plopped down on the couch. Becky snuggled up to me and laid her head on my lap, looking at the TV. "I love you, Dad," she said.
"I love you too, kitten," I told her.
"You haven't called me that in years." We sat in an easy silence as the babble box blabbed away. I wasn't hearing a thing. I was noticing how it felt to have Becky touching me.
Becky broke our silence and said, "Dad, I wasn't trying to snoop, but when I was checking my e-mail on the computer, I noticed a movie file in the recent documents list. When I clicked on it, well, I was kind of shocked to say the least. I didn't say anything, I guess, I felt funny about it."
The movie was a little thank you that Maria, Lindsey, and Jamie had made for me, thanking me for giving them a very special send off to college; that is, I had sex with my daughter's three best friends and they sent me a little strip show as the thank you. I watched the clip every once in a while to remind me of the three girls and the times we shared. I had never considered that Becky would find it so easily.
She held my eye to see what I would say, but I stood mute before the court. She continued, "I asked Lindsey, Maria, and Jamie about the movie and they told me something funny today." I tensed up waiting to hear and desperately hoping it was some funny story or joke. "Well," she continued, "not really funny. I didn't believe them at first but they convinced me. The movie kind of makes me think it must be true. Is it true Dad?"
"Is what true?" I asked feigning ignorance but I knew what was coming.
"Please don't lie to me, Dad. They told me all the details. They told me why they made that little stripper movie for you."
I felt awful and tried to stand up to flee the room. Becky grabbed at my shirt and looked up at me, "If you love me like you say you won't run away." I settled back against the sofa overcome with guilt. Becky looked into my eyes. I am one of those people who can't lie worth a damn and so the answer was written across my face. Becky gave me a wry smile to seal my discomfiture. "So, it's true. Don't worry; I'm not mad at you for taking all three of my girlfriends to bed."
The way she said that made it sound even worse, and it already was pretty bad. "Kitten, I'm sorry."
Becky looked up at me, "You're not sorry it happened. You're just sorry I found out." She smiled at the expression on my face since she was absolutely right. "It's okay. At first, I was so angry. Imagine, them having sex with my dad. I could have killed them. They saw I was mad and that made them needle me even more saying I was just jealous, until I had to laugh. By the way, was it as good as they said?"
I know I turned a furious red. Becky patted my cheek, "It must have been," she said. She laid her head back on my lap, this time resting her hand high on my thigh as well. Now you have to understand I never felt the least bit sexual toward my daughter. If pressed, I'd have to admit that the feelings might have existed, but I ruthlessly suppressed them before they saw a glimmer of light. I just never thought that way about Becky. But thinking about the three girls and the wild sex we had, and having her hand resting so close to my groin, I felt the pressure as my traitorous cock started to grow.
Becky started talking again as her hand slowly stroked my leg, "Like I said, I did get angry. But I realized that I was just envious, maybe jealous like they said, that they got to take you to bed. That didn't seem right. After all, I loved you more that they did. It was just a pleasant interlude for them. I've loved you my whole life."
She turned her head and could see the distinctive bulge in my pants. Her hand moved and cupped it. "Are you thinking about making love to Jamie? She told me it was her first time."
I couldn't admit the thoughts that were now coursing through my head, even to myself. I tried to make my mind a blank. "No, I wasn't," I said.
"She said you were a perfect lover for a girl's first time."
Desperate to change the atmosphere I tried a joke. "I guess your old man is just a stud muffin."
Becky didn't laugh. Instead she said, "Ana too; it was her first time. You've been busy introducing girls to sex." Becky's hand was stroking my cock.
I was awash with conflicted feelings of arousal, lust, embarrassment, and shame. In my own world of shame, blame, and regret, I wasn't at all prepared for what came next.
Becky rose up, her hand still holding my cock, and brought her face to mine. Our lips were nearly touching when she whispered, "I need a man like you to be my first."
I could still ignore the implicit meaning and I chose to. "Kitten, you'll find a good man."
"I already have." Her lips touched mine and we kissed. I tried to be passive but it was just too much, too much to resist. I kissed her back. Becky took my hand and put it on her soft breast. She wasn't wearing a bra and I could feel her nipple standing up under the thin fabric of her blouse. Involuntarily, I told myself, my fingers tweaked her nipple. She moaned and pressed her tit harder against my hand. Still kissing, she straddled my waist, and took my free hand pressing it under her skirt and between her legs. She wasn't wearing any panties. I felt the soft skin of her mound and the heat from her pussy.
"I'm hot and wet for you, Dad," she said. I felt the muskiness of her on my fingers as they sank between her distended pussy lips. "Yesss," Becky hissed. "Please, if you can show Jamie and Ana how to be a woman, please, show me. I want you to be my first lover."
Here I was, one hand fondling my daughter's tit and the other stroking her juicing pussy and I still hadn't admitted to myself what was happening. But I couldn't ignore it anymore. She was asking me to fuck her, to be her first lover. I gazed at my little kitten as I hadn't in many years. She was all grown up and her face reflected her lust, love and fear of rejection. I couldn't reject my baby. I sank my finger into her and tweaked her nipple. Becky moaned and brought her lips to mine. That needy feminine moan and her hot lips sealed the deal. I was lost.
"Let's go to my room," I said with difficulty pulling my hands away from her hot soft flesh.
She groaned at the loss. "Yes. I need you."
.... There is more of this story ...