To celebrate Annie's 16th birthday, we spent a week horseback riding and camping in the Ozark Mountains. It was then our plan to drive south to New Orleans for a few days of fine dining and civilized touring.
Stealing a look at Annie in the passenger's seat, I couldn't help feeling a little sadness that her mother was no longer with us, to see what a fine young woman Annie had become. She had her mother's figure and the sort of plain honest face that wears so well. Annie and I enjoyed the same outdoor activities, and I now wanted to see how she would appreciate the culture and cuisine of the Big Easy.
Perhaps I was driving a little too fast down highway 167, perhaps not. In any event, we were stopped by two parish cops.
"Driver's license," said one of them, the shorter one.
I handed it over. He looked at it, at me, and then at Annie. He nodded to his partner, the taller one. "You folks will have to follow us to the station," he ordered. Annie and I looked at each other. But we followed the cruiser to the local station. It was Saturday and the building was deserted.
"We have had reports of dope smugglers coming down US 167," said the short one. "Your car fits the description. We are going to have to search you."
I resigned myself. They couldn't possibly find anything, so we would eventually be let go.
"Strip," ordered the short one.
"My daughter is right here," I protested.
"That's OK," said the tall one. "She'll have to strip too."
"It's not right," I protested.
"We'll show you what's right," said Short, and punched me in the stomach.
When I got my wind back, I realized what we were up against. I took off my clothes. They made a pretense of inspecting my body cavities, and then made me sit in a stout wooden chair where they handcuffed me to its arms.
"Now you," ordered Short to my daughter. She stripped down to her bra and panties.
"All the way," ordered Tall.
"I can't possibly be hiding anything under these," she said, indicating her underwear.
"Cavity search," said Short. Annie blanched, but took off her bra and panties.
All three of us held Annie in our gaze for a long moment. She was adorable. I hadn't realized what a luscious woman she had become. And then to have her beauty exposed to these degenerates...
She regarded me with an expression I could not read.
"Up on the examination table," ordered Short. He soon had Annie with her feet in the stirrups and her entire vaginal area exposed. He unwrapped a sealed plastic speculum and opened poor Annie up.
"Damn!" exclaimed Short, looking into Annie's spread pussy. "She's a virgin!"
"No shit!" cried Tall. "Flip you for her."
"You forget who's the corporal and who's the private here," said Short. He dropped his trousers, and his stiff prick stood out between his shirttails. Then, to my astonishment, he rolled a condom onto it.
"That's one fine looking pussy," said Short. "Tasty." He lowered his mouth onto Annie and began slurping and sucking it. Annie was biting her lip. After several minutes of this, he raised up and announced, "She's real prime pussy. Lip-smacking good. All juiced up and ready to go." Then he looked over at me, where I sat naked in the wooden chair. "Looks like someone else appreciates fine pussy too," he crowed.
It was true. To my intense embarrassment, my prick was like a bar of iron. And Annie was looking at it. Jesus. What could she be thinking? That all men were beasts?
"OK, here we go now," said Short, and, standing on a low stool, he sank his cock into poor Annie.
"Ow!" she exclaimed, as her hymen was torn through. If thoughts could murder, Short would now be a stinking pile of guts. But they can't. So far as I know, Short is probably still alive and gloating over his "conquest" and planning another one. The only consolation was that he was wearing a condom.
From where I sat, I could see Short's prick plunging in and out of Annie's pussy. After five minutes of poking into Annie, he reached some sort of climax and pulled out. There were bright streaks of red blood on the condom, which he carefully pulled off and flushed down the open toilet. "She's all yours," he told Tall.
Annie was quietly crying on the examination table. My erection had wilted.
Tall drew out a rubber glove and lubricated it plentifully with Vaseline. "Spread 'em," he told Annie. Then he inserted a finger in Annie's anus and worked it around. "Good 'n' tight," he remarked to Short.
"Better try two fingers," said Short. "You're pretty big."
"Good idea," said Tall and lubed his glove with another glob of Vaseline. He worked both fingers in and out of poor Annie's anus, circling them around to open it up still further. "Think she's ready," he said finally.
Tall dropped his pants. His erection was large, larger than mine, I noted with dismay. He was about to stick it into Annie's anus when Short reminded him, "Better use a rubber."
"Right you are," said Tall and rolled one onto his big prick. "Now, Blondie, this won't hurt nearly so much if you make like you are taking a dump when I stick it in. But if you tighten up, it will hurt like hell." He turned to me, "See? We ain't such bad guys, after all. Kind and considerate, that's us!" he smirked, and put the head of his horse cock at the entrance to Annie's sphincter. "OK, baby, push out."
Annie must have pushed, because his prick sank right into the well-greased hole. "Damn, that's fine!" he said. "All the way in." And he began to fuck her brutally, driving hard into her interior, so that she cried out at every stroke. My heart was breaking.
This went on for a while. Then Short took a turn in Annie's pussy, followed by Tall who seemed to favor the rear hole over the proper one. Finally Tall pulled out, flushed down the condom, and pulled up his pants. "I'm done," he announced.
"Tell you what," said Short to me. "I like the way that little girl looks at her Daddy. I'll bet she would like you to fuck her. Fuck her and I'll let y'all go."
"And if I don't?" I asked.
"Afternoon shift will be here in an hour," said Short. "They would just love to interrogate and search your little girl. And the mid shift will be in later."
"Daddy," said Annie. "It can only get worse. Do it and let's get out of here."
"Now you're talking," said Short. "I like a girl who loves her daddy."
I thought. It was a bad bargain, but as Annie said, it could only get worse. "OK," I said finally. "Let me out of these cuffs."
So they let me up. I flexed my legs. Annie was waiting for me on the table.
"Got another condom?" I asked.
"Sorry," grinned Short. "The last one went up your daughter's ass. Now, are you going to do it or not?"
I was beginning to catch on to Short's plan. The only DNA in my daughter's body would be mine.
"Come here, Daddy," said Annie. "It will be all right. You'll see."
What could I do? I lowered my body onto Annie, but my erection had vanished. I couldn't get my prick into her.
Annie reached out and took my prick in her smooth hand. She stroked it a few times, then whispered into my ear: "Pretend that it's just us here together, OK Daddy?" Then she kissed me passionately. Suddenly we were in a private bubble of feeling, my prick was hard again, and I could slip it into her warm body. It was just the two of us; Short and Tall had become invisible. It was magical; we were holding each other closely and deeply. Soon Annie began moaning and snapping her pelvis up to meet me. She would waggle her hips vigorously, pause, moan, and then waggle her hips again. She's having orgasms, I realized. This made me reach mine, and we thrust furiously against each other for what seemed many minutes, but was probably only sixty seconds.
"Will you look at that," said Short to Tall. "It's truly inspiring. That's what I call down-home fucking. Kinda makes me want to start all over again. But fair's fair. The two of you put on your clothes and get out of here."
We left that wretched town, driving exactly 5 miles per hour below the speed limit. When we were out of sight, I stopped the car. "Annie," I turned to her, "can you ever forgive me?"
She leaned against my chest and burst into tears.
"Annie, Annie..." I tried to sooth her, patting her awkwardly.
"Those bastards make me so damn mad," she sobbed. "They embarrassed you, and they took my virginity, which I was saving."
"Saving?" I echoed. We had never talked about this sort of thing before.
"Saving for you," she cried, and redoubled her sobbing, beating on my chest with her small fists.
My mind was in a whirl. Annie? Saving her virginity for me? Her father? What could she be thinking?
Finally, Annie's tears slackened. "I had it all planned," she said. "I was going to seduce you, possibly in New Orleans. And once you found out how much I love you, you would take me as your wife."
I was aghast. "But that would be..."
"Incest. Yes, I know. I've been thinking about it every since I was twelve. I realized that after Mom died, you have not had any female companionship except me. Not that I minded! And you are a wonderful father. But it's not fair to you."
And then she smiled a little. "At least we know we can get it on, right Daddy?" And she gave me a kiss.
"Sweetheart," I began.
She put a finger against my lips. "Let's talk about it tonight. Meanwhile, let's get out of north Louisiana." She gave me another kiss and settled back in her seat.
"But not the way we were headed," I told her. "Those cops said that they would hand us off to the cops in the next town so that we would have a safe trip. I really don't want to be handed off to another set of cops. Hand me that map."
We found a county road headed east toward the Mississippi, where there was a ferry. From Natchez there would be a scenic drive south to New Orleans, skirting much of Louisiana. Mississippi police couldn't possibly be worse, could they?
As we were driving, Annie asked me, "We have always been honest with each other, haven't we?"
"Pretty much," I agreed cautiously. I shot a glance at her. Somehow the conversational floodgates were now open, after the events of the morning.
"Haven't you ever been sexually attracted to your little girl?" she asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.
A memory flooded into my mind. "This is pretty bad," I told her, "but when you were very young and your mother was in the hospital I would bathe you and put you to bed. You had the prettiest little pussy. I wanted to kiss it."
"So did you?" asked Annie.
"Once or twice," I admitted.
"What did I do?" asked Annie.
"Oh, you spread your legs a little and cooed," I told her. I was lying. Actually, once you start kissing a pretty little pussy, you might as well go on to licking it and that leads to sucking the hard little clit, until you can feel her surrender to a baby orgasm. I had done this not once, but many times while my wife was in the hospital. Each time I would tell myself that it was all wrong, but somehow the next time ... At any rate, it made wanking off a lot easier. And Annie went to sleep immediately afterwards with a baby smile on her face. Did I tell you that my wife was in the hospital at the time? I see that I did.
"Why did you stop?" Annie asked.
"I had to stop sometime," I told her. "What would have happened if it had continued until you were in first grade? I can hear it now:
'My daddy kisses my pussy every night.'
'No he does not.'
'Missus Ottinger, Annie says that her Daddy kisses her pussy every night. She's lying.'
'Am not neither.'
And then we would be in deep doo-doo."
Annie was laughing. "But you wanted to do it," she said. "And it sounds like I really liked it, too."
"Your mother did it also," I told her. "I caught her diddling your pussy one evening. You were gurgling and laughing."
"What did she say?" asked Annie.
"Oh, she blushed and told me that it was such a cute little pussy that she just had to play with it. You were really something at that age."
"But not now?" asked Annie.
"You saw me after that police corporal went down on you," I told her. "I couldn't help it. I got hard like I haven't for years."
"So it wasn't just a generic erection? It was really for me?" asked Annie. "I remember when I was 13 or so and my boobs were coming in, I used to put on my filmiest nightie and come sit next to you. I would sort of snuggle against you and try to poke you with my titties."
"I remember vividly," I told her. "You were a very nice, warm armful."
"And then when I turned 14," continued Annie, "Do you remember the night when you were watching the late news in your pajamas and I came downstairs and sat in your lap? And it felt so good that I gave you a big kiss? And for once you really kissed me back. And then I was rubbing my bottom on your erection and your hands were all over me." She sighed.
"All over you?" I challenged.
"Well, all over my breasts," she amended. "And then I'm not sure what happened, but I think your hand was on my pussy and I was having a monster orgasm."
"Me, too," I admitted. "There was a big wet spot on my PJ's. I was hoping you wouldn't notice."
"Like I didn't notice your stiffy when you and I zipped our sleeping bags together three nights ago, when it got real cold?"
I blushed. "Annie, I'm only human. You are a gorgeous, sexy woman and I love you very much. And since your mother died, I have been virtually a monk."
"Why didn't you ever get remarried?" Annie asked.
"I went out a few times. But each time I was worried that the babysitter wasn't looking after you properly. Besides, none of the ladies could compare to your mother."
"If I'm 16 now, and you are 34, then you and Mom must have got married at a very early age," said Annie thoughtfully.
"Actually we had to get married. Your mother and I started going together when I was 17 and she was a year younger. And we were passionately in love. One thing led to another, and there you were. So we got married, had you, and worked our way through school. It was hard, but we had each other, and we had you."
"Wow," said Annie. "So Mom was my age when you started having sex."
"'Fraid so," I told her. "And you are that age, but now I'm 17 years older."
"That does make my job tougher," said Annie. "I figured that just being sexy wasn't enough, so I would have to demonstrate some other qualities."
"Such as?" I asked.
"Well, being responsible, and mature, and considerate. You must admit I've been pretty good to you over the past two years."
"You have indeed," I told her. "We do lots of things together. You run the house. You look after the bills and do the shopping. The two of us work together to keep the house clean. We do fun things together. I really love seeing you every morning and night. I don't know what I'm going to do when you graduate."
The land grew lower and boggier as we neared the river. There were cattails growing in the ditches along the road. It was getting dark.
"That place looks clean," said Annie. It was a bayou fish camp with small white cabins. We could park so that the car could not be seen from the road.
"Get just one cabin," said Annie. "I'm not going to sleep by myself tonight."
Soon we were in a knotty-pine room with twin beds. We unpacked and showered, trying to wash away the grime and mistreatment of the day.
We dressed and walked over to the office. The clerk told us that the place next door had "real good food." He urged us to try the crayfish etouffee. It was a short walk over to the place next door, which was a combination boat dock, gas station, store, bar, restaurant, and dance hall. Part of it was built on pilings over the water.
The food was indeed good. We split an order of the crayfish etouffee and ate some perfectly fried fresh perch fillets.
We finished eating as the band straggled in. The band consisted of a bass, a violin, and an accordion. I thought they would be playing wheezy Cajun music, but instead they started on some old standards: Begin the Beguine, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, Stardust. I was surprised. The violin would toss the melody to the accordion and then play riffs on the theme, while the bass played a lazy basso continuo.
"Let's dance," said Annie. The floor was empty except for us and the lighting was just two strings of party lights, so we settled into some comfortable slow dances. Annie danced close against me and I held her tight. It was pure enjoyment, feeling a warm, curvy feminine body next to me. And my body started to respond after a while. I was embarrassed to realize that I was developing a steely erection. So I turned to the side to avoid poking Annie with it.
"No you don't," murmured Annie, and trapped my prick between our bodies. So we danced very close indeed, while the band segued from one Cole Porter song to another. Finally they took a break and Annie gave me a long, sweet kiss before we headed back to the table.
We got up to go finally, and walked over to the cashier, a handsome, fiftyish woman. "I have to make a detour," said Annie, heading to the ladies'. I paid.
"That's your daughter, isn't she?" asked the cashier. I nodded cautiously.
"She is a fine young woman. And you are a very lucky man," continued the cashier.
"What do you mean?" I asked. Had she suspected? Were we that obvious?
She went on. "I know all about it. My Daddy and I were together for 18 years, until I was 30. And then he died. I was devastated. But I had those 18 years with him, and I will always cherish them."
Annie had come up and was standing there listening.
"What did you do then?" I asked.
"Oh, I got married again to a nice man. Then we bought this restaurant and have been running it these past 15 years. It's a good life, and the people here are real friendly."
To my surprise, Annie and the cashier hugged each other. "You take good care of her," said the cashier, "and you will have wonderful years together." She gave Annie a kiss and sent us on our way. I was flabbergasted.
"Let's go out on the dock and look at the moonlight," urged Annie.
We stood on the dock and considered the moon's ripples in the water. "They had several kids, you know," said Annie.
"Her and her father?" I asked.
"That hunky guy tending bar is one of them," continued Annie. "Her current husband runs the kitchen. I chatted with her when I went to the ladies' room before."
"They must have started when she was 12 or 13," I mused.
"Never too young to start," grinned Annie and clutched my arm hard.
"Annie," I protested. "In two years you will be in college. You will meet smart, good-looking men who will be crazy about you. Why are you pestering a middle-aged idiot like me?"
"I already have a smart, good-looking man," she said. "Besides, I won't start college until the children are teenagers."
"Children?" I swallowed.
"At least two. Three would be better, in case something happens to one of them," she said, thoughtfully.
"You have been thinking about this," I accused, putting my arm around her.
"Ever since I was 12," she advised. "I have been thinking and planning how to get you into my clutches. Your arm feels so nice. And just maybe those rotten cops have made it possible."
"Clutches? And how would those cops have made it possible?" I asked.
"Clutches. Which means I wouldn't let you go, not ever. And the cops made you realize that I was not just a kid, but a fully equipped woman. It was a major demonstration, don't you think?"
"I have to agree about the fully equipped part. But when you are 30, I'll be 48," I protested.