Chapter 1: A Plea for Help

“Hey girl, can you help me out this weekend?”

Hearing my dad’s voice on the phone was a surprise to start out with as I don’t couldn’t remember him ever calling me at school before. Then to hear him asking me for my help was even a bigger surprise. Naturally my curiosity immediately peaked.

“Of course daddy,” I replied, then I added in a bit coyly, “But what in the world would you need ME to do for you?”

Even as I spoke the words the obvious answer hit me like a brick between the eyes. Instantly I felt my heartbeat quicken and a twinge erupted deep between my legs. My dad and I had been having sex for almost four years now and I knew he got horny for me when I was away to school. Still, he’d never asked before me to come home and “help” him, no matter how much he wanted me. It had been over a month since he last fucked me and I smiled to myself as I visualized him all horny and hard in his office, thinking who knows what nasty thoughts about his only daughter. Images of a wild weekend back home with him and mom began to form in my head but as it turned out, I wasn’t exactly on target.

“Well Kelly, I know you’ve been doing some entertaining at bachelor parties this past semester.”

Hmmm, now I wonder who had told him THAT? It was true, I couldn’t deny it, but I hadn’t told him myself because I was afraid he might think I was crossing some sort of line by taking money for sex. It wasn’t the money anyway that I was interested in, it was the fun and excitement that got me off. Still, it WS technically prostitution and I didn’t want to get in an argument with him over it.

He continued on, “and so I wondered if you’d like to do something like that for some new clients I’ll be having in town this week.”

Whoa! That one came out of the blue for sure. The first semester of my sophomore year had been rough for me. I missed my freshman roomie terribly. Not that my new one was all that bad, it’s just she was bi and didn’t even like to masturbate. My frustrations built to the point where I decided at the start of the 2nd semester to find something to satisfy my needs without getting into trouble with my school.

After checking out various options I signed up with an escort service in Columbus and over the next few months did a couple of bachelor parties and a few private escorting gigs. Because I was doing it for sex rather than money, I tended to be pretty picky about the guys I went out with. It put me a little at odds with my agency, as they would have had me out every night like a street hooker if they could, but I stuck to my principles. The last thing I was looking for was any sort of trouble or personal relationships so I restricted my clients to older guys (late thirties and forties) who were married, preferably with children.

It was fun at first as I fulfilled their sexual fantasies. This was especially true for the guys who had daughters my age that let me be their surrogate daughter for the evening. My favorite evening was helping them live out the naughtiest fantasies they kept hidden away with regards to their own daughters.

Of course, as I mentioned before I told my parents all about my new “job” as I had never kept anything from them before and didn’t want to start now. Needless to say they were a bit concerned at first but when they understood the security precautions my agency had in place and the limited number of engagements I accepted they were OK with it. From what I was hearing on the phone now, apparently my father was more than OK with it - he even wanted to hire me!

We talked for the next ten to fifteen minutes about the situation he was in. Apparently he’d had several guys in town all the past week for what represented a major coup for my dad’s firm. They had been going out every night and proved themselves to be a bit over the top in more than just their business dealings. The three of them ranged were all different ages; my dad guessed 25, 35 and 50. The older two were married but according to my dad he never would have known from the way they all caroused around town. They’d hit a different strip joint every night and Saturday was to be their last evening before heading home. My dad said they hinted broadly that the account was his but the things could always change depending on how Saturday night went. It was obvious they weren’t interested in being just spectators at a club; they wanted to be part of the action.