Chapter 1

Cindy Barlow slowed to a fast walk as she turned onto her street. She'd started her run in the pre-dawn darkness; aware of the carpet of newly fallen snow but not seeing it. During her run the lightening sky had slowly revealed trees and shrubs - not to mention cars and rooftops - silent beneath the recent snowfall. Turning onto her street the sun crested the distant mountain range revealing the winter setting; a sparkling tableau of pristine white. It was perfect; still reveling in the sharpness of the cold morning air and the silence of her footfalls in the newly fallen snow Cindy walked slowly down the street.

She turned up the snow-covered driveway to the mudroom door. Entering she stamped her feet twice, opened the kitchen door and entered. Having spent the last five months at a college too many zones away - being home was sweet. She inhaled deeply letting the rich fragrance of freshly brewed coffee brightened her smile.

"Morning Dad," was preceded by a kiss and followed with a hug. "I'd forgotten how much I love running after a light snowfall; everything is so fresh and beautiful. I kind of miss that in California." She smiled in the comfort of home as she poured herself a cup and sipped. Everything about the house seemed fresher, nicer than her last visit. In fact, as Cindy glanced around the kitchen she noticed that it wasn't just orderly; it glowed. Fresh fruit filled a bowl on the counter and there were flowers - real flowers - in a vase on the sill of the window above the sink.

"It is beautiful isn't it?" Frank sighed with a deep satisfaction. "It's great to have you home honey. I have to give the Jenkins credit for having the wedding right between these February holidays, gives people a chance to do some skiing. It does make me feel like an old man though, hard to believe that little Scotty Jenkins is getting married."

"Little Scotty? Dad, Scott is at least seven inches taller and has forty pounds of solid muscle on you." Cindy Barlow, all 20 years of her, smiled in fond remembrance of the object of her youthful ardor. She had enjoyed many a fantasy of Scott Jenkins introducing her, sometimes coercing her into the (at the time) unknown ecstasies of love. Yet while those ecstasies were now known, Scotty was no longer available.

She quickly covered her mouth with her cup as she felt her face flush in memory of her first Scott Jenkins inspired orgasm. A sleep-over at her best friends - who just happened to be Scott's little sister - house had found Cindy upstairs when Scott came home from football practice. With his sister downstairs Scott must have thought he was upstairs alone in his bedroom as he stripped off his clothes. Cindy watched from the adjoining bathroom until he stood naked in front of his closet mirror. Cindy stood entranced at the nude figure not ten feet away - thank God he'd turned on his stereo to mask the thundering of her heart. It was only when he pulled on a pair of sweat pants that Cindy retreated to the safety of her friend's bedroom; flush with the knowledge that there was nothing little about Scott Jenkins.

That night as she listened to the soft, regular breathing of her friend beside her Cindy found herself reaching between her legs and touching herself; her hand sliding beneath her panties into the warm cleft between her thighs. What had been - up to this point in her life - gentle exploratory touching became rhythmic probing and rubbing. She felt an intensifying pleasure just above the entrance to her cunt and concentrated there. The pleasure grew and grew as she masturbated to orgasm; shaking, then stiffening quietly. Her whole body felt alive and new; smiling in the revelation that she now knew what all the fuss was about. Cindy decided right then and there that masturbation would become a regular part of her bedtime practice.

In the quiet afterglow, at the border of sleep and dreaming Cindy wondered what might have happened if Scotty had seen her. What if he caught her watching? A delicious fantasy filled her young mind and she began to masturbate again.

Scotty, still naked, turned suddenly towards the bathroom and covered the distance before Cindy could exit. The door opened and Scott stood there naked and angry.

"Were you spying on me?" Scott towered over her.

"No - I was just finishing and I heard a noise, I saw you..." Cindy's voice trailed off as she focused on the growing appendage before her. Not only was it growing, it was getting closer as Scott walked toward her. She hardly noticed his hands on her shoulders as he pushed her to her knees. There it was, right in front of her face. Then it was on her lips - pushing persistently - then past her lips; Scott Jenkins cock was in her mouth. His hands caressed her head and hair as he slowly pushed his cock in and out of her mouth. And then they were naked on the floor and Scott was touching her, just like she was touching herself now. A second, more powerful orgasm swept through her and she'd drifted off the sleep in its echo.

It became one of her favorite fantasies with all of its delicious variations; caught by Scott and offering to do anything if only he wouldn't tell. Coerced by Scott forced to be his slut. Worshipped by Scott, his unquenchable need to please her in any way he could. Oh Scotty, oh Scotty, oh Scotty, and oh that nothing had ever come of it. Cindy suppressed her desire to rub her thighs together; she'd wait until her shower.

"I haven't met Scott's fiancé Gretchen - have you Dad?" Cindy peered over her cup at her Dad. He seemed different too.

"No, but I hear she's gorgeous. If Pamela is happy with her she must be quite a girl. I wish them great happiness in their marriage." Frank paused for a moment. Cindy watched as he looked down at his hand. She noticed that he wasn't wearing his wedding ring - when had that happened? Why hadn't she noticed it last night? Now that was something to be inquired about later.

"Dad, is mom coming to the wedding?" Cindy watched her Dad closely as she introduced the subject. Well he wasn't frowning - that had to be a good sign.

"I assume she is. She's known Scotty all his life." Frank looked at his daughter and shrugged. "Don't know about George."

There it was. Almost a year had passed since Dorothy Barlow had run off with her high school boyfriend, George Koswalski. The two having reconnected at their 30th high school reunion, embarked on a torrid affair. During the months that followed Dorothy had used visits to her sister as cover for meeting George. The result was Dorothy and George both leaving their marriages and running off together. It had been a huge and messy scandal. Frank had been shocked, as much by his own cluelessness as by her betrayal.

"Wow Dad said his name without blowing up." Cindy turned her head slightly and looked directly at her Dad. This was the first time since her mother had left him that he had spoken George's name without any trace of anger. "What's going on Pops? I know you were happy during the holidays and everything but ... I figured it was just the spirit of the season and me being home from school. I mean I'm really happy that you're getting past all that's happened - I think its great." Cindy stepped back and looked her Dad over. It wasn't just the house that that was different, her Dad stood taller, with a calm confidence. Slowly the pieces began to fall into place. "You know if I didn't know better, I think you've gotten yourself a girlfriend? Ohmigod that's it! I can see it in your eyes. You do have a girlfriend!"

Frank blushed slightly, started to say something then thought better of it. Instead he decided on deflection. "Don't you need to shower? I know I need to get to the office. I'll see you tonight sweetie. Bye."

"Fine, I'll let it go for now Dad, but tonight, after dinner ... the inquisition will begin." Cindy fixed her dad with her gaze. "I've got questions and I expect answers."

Frank kissed his daughter, rinsed out his cup and left whistling a cheery "God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman" as he walked out the door.

Cindy peeled off her running gear as she walked to her bedroom. She was pleasantly surprised at her comfort level given that her dad was seeing someone. She realized that she was happy because he was happy. He'd been so angry, sad, and depressed when her mom left. Cindy's own reaction had been disappointment bordering on disgust. She had reduced her contact with her mom to e-mail, the occasional phone call, and little more. Whoever her dad was seeing must be pretty amazing. She was looking forward to the evening's interrogation.

Cindy got the shower going and sat to pee. Wiping herself she noticed she was a little stubbly. In a flash she recalled that she had left her razor in her bathroom back at school. No problem she thought as she walked to her dad's bathroom in search of one. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. Fortunately, she found one (complete with blades) of her mothers in the back of a drawer. Leaving the master bath Cindy walked to the bedroom sitting window to enjoy the view.

The view out this particular window was one of her earliest winter memories. There was no way to count the numbers of hours she had spent looking out this window. She loved the sight of the bare trees and shrubs dusted with snow. She took comfort in the perfectly smooth expanse of snow-covered lawn. It was one of her dad's points of pride, uniformly green in summer, this morning flawlessly white with the light snowfall of the night before - no that wasn't correct. Cindy blinked in amazement. There was a line of footprints crossing the yard from the back gate toward the French doors beside the window. Cindy's eyes widened as she realized the direction of the tracks.

Cindy ran back to her bathroom and pulled her running clothes back on. She exited via the kitchen and circled around back of the house. She stopped at the French doors. The footprints were about the same size as hers. Cindy followed the tracks as they lead across the yard, out the gate, and along the old walking path.

A thrilling warmth filled Cindy as she followed the trail. These tracks belonged to her Dad's girlfriend - that was an obvious no-brainer. That meant that her Dad's lover had been with him last night and "snuck off" this morning. Cindy smiled at the delicious irony. To think that her dad was hiding his lover from her the way she had done the same when she was younger made her smile even more. The memory of Ryan Johansson and their passionate loving turned Cindy's physical warmth into needy sexual heat; she'd yet to meet a guy quite like Ryan.