Chapter 1

I am not an habitual eavesdropper, but as I passed my daughter's room, I was stopped in my tracks, and just had to listen in, when I heard her older brother speak.

'Keep it down, Midge, you don't want Dad to hear.'

Oh yes? What did he think I wouldn't want to hear? I moved close to the door and put my ear against the crack.

'I want to go to Fancy's on Friday.'

'You're not old enough to go night-clubbing.'

My son, Barney, can be seriously sensible sometimes. Of course, you could get the impression the space between his ears was filled with bone on other occasions, but he was quite correct on this matter: Midge was too young to go clubbing.

My daughter was, unsurprisingly, not of the same opinion.

'I'm going to go!' she said. 'I don't care what anyone says – especially Dad – I'm going clubbing on Friday.'

I'd heard enough. I pushed the door open and walked in. Midge was sitting on her bed, topless, her back resting on the headboard. Barney was sitting on it, nearer the foot, where he could have the same view I was getting, as my daughter was a little slow in stretching her legs out and pulling her skirt down, from the position of having her knees up, almost brushing her perky breasts, her skirt round her waist, revealing the tops of her thighs and the blue silk knickers she was wearing.

'Sorry, Midge, but I can't let you go clubbing. You're far too young.'

'Dad! You were listening!'

'Just that bit, ' I said. 'It's for your own protection. When you're eighteen, you can go clubbing all you like, but just now, you're too young.'

'I'm not! Stacey and Paula both go to night-clubs, and they're the same age as me.'

'And Stacey's pregnant, ' I said. 'That's what happens to girls who go to night-clubs when they're not old enough to understand what boys will do.'

'It wasn't her fault. She doesn't know what happened.'

'I'll hazard a guess, ' I said. 'She was blind drunk, and someone raped her.'

Midge shrugged, conceding the point. 'But I've no intention of getting drunk. I know my limits.'

Both children had been brought up to be familiar with drinking wine with a meal. At first, of course, it had been watered-down, and only very small quantities, but by the time they were in their teens, they would have a glass of wine with a meal and not think anything of it. Consequently, alcohol meant nothing special, and Barney, at nineteen, since last year legally able to buy booze in pubs and bars, had never been known to be drunk. So I figured that I'd done the right thing by taking the mystique out of booze.

Girls, of course, are different. They need to be protected more from the dangers in the real world, and that was why I'd never approved of Midge being left alone with a boy any place they might regard as private enough for a bit of rumpy-pumpy. No, indeed! No pimply boy was going to get his spindly dick wet in my daughter's snatch if I could help it.

Of course, she was getting older, her sixteenth birthday on the horizon a month away, and I knew that sometime, some bloke was going to talk his way into her knickers. I just hoped to put off that moment as long as possible. I mean, I know that once she starts, she'll want to go on, and I didn't want to come home from work one day and find her enjoying a gang-bang by each member of the local football team. No! Her mother had been insatiable – more than I could cope with eventually, which was why she'd left home and made an effort to meet and fuck a whole army of men. Nymphomania might have been invented to describe her, and I was worried about Midge: I suspected she'd discover the same hot temperament once she had been woken up to the joys of sex.

'What are you scared I'd do, Dad?' she asked.

'I think you'd be unable to protect yourself from your own nature, if boys started coming on to you.'

She pushed her lips forward into a pout and looked away, obviously deep in thought. Then she turned back to look at both the men in her room.

'Da-ad, ' she began, in that wheedling tone she used when she really wanted something.

'Yes?'

'You know how you let Barney and me get used to alcohol, by letting us have a little with meals, for years, until now, we aren't at all keen on drinking too much?'

'Yes, ' I said, not immediately seeing where this was heading. 'So?'

'Well, if you think having sex is something I'd be unable to stop myself from doing, once I'd tried it—'

'Yes?'

'Well, if I was able to try it out in ... controlled circumstances ... with you there to ensure I was controlled, I could find out what you think the dangers are, and how to control them. That would work, wouldn't it?'

There was some sense in her argument, but one big flaw.

'No, you can't do that, ' I said, shaking my head.

She frowned and the pout came back. 'Why not? It's using your idea in what I'd have thought – considering the fuss you're making – was a good cause.'

'Because – have you thought? – you'd need a boy to practise with. And I'm not about to let some youth with more hair than wit to take your virginity.'

'If you stick to that argument, I'm going to die an old maid.' She looked askance. 'Besides, to quote you, it's my virginity we're talking about, and who I give it to is for me to decide.'

'Sweetheart, ' I said, attempting to take a softer line in the hope that it would get through to her, 'your virginity is something you can only give to one man, once. It should be a special moment, and he should be someone you really love. Someone you'd not mind bringing home to meet me.' I glanced at Barney. 'Us, ' I added.

'Oh, ' she said, her voice soft, as if the fight had gone out of her. If I'd been thinking better, instead of worrying about what the erection in my trousers might look like to my sweet, innocent daughter, I'd have remembered that a woman is in the greatest danger of getting her own way when she seems to be capitulating.

As Barney and I watched, big fat tears appeared in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.

'Don't do that!' I cried, but it was too late. The daddy urge to comfort my poor unhappy daughter was upon me. I got onto the bed and took Midge in my arms. She snivelled and her tears dampened my shirt. I stroked her back, during which, somehow, her left hand kind of fell on my thigh, pretty well touching my prick.

Coincidentally, Barney moved to the other side of her and also put his arms round her, and her right hand seems to have gone limp and fallen across the lump in his trousers. I hadn't noticed it earlier, so it didn't quite sink in, until Barney, who couldn't hold her close, because I was, moved one of his hands until it came to rest on the firm and pointy mound which was her right breast.

Midge pulled her knees up again and allowed them to fall apart. Her knickers had a damp patch, which made my prick twitch and become even harder. At that point, I realised I had a hand covering Midge's left breast, firm and pointy like the one Barney was rubbing and squeezing. And I also realised that Midge's hands were busy, sliding up and down her father's and brother's pricks.

'S-stop!' I managed to gasp. 'Somebody's going to have an accident.' I don't actually know how close Barney was to nutting, but I knew I was. Damn close!

We reluctantly put each other down and Barney and I got off the bed. Midge looked from one to the other of us, her fingers rubbing her slit up the leg of her panties. She was panting.

'Ohhh! Why'd you stop?' she complained.

I took a couple of deep breaths to try to overcome my tendency to pant.

'That's exactly the point I'm trying to make, ' I said. 'Once you get started, you won't want to stop. Just think of the risk of catching some awful disease. And then, there's your reputation.'

She shuddered and her tummy muscles rippled.

'I don't care – haaargh, huhh, hhhaaargh – about my reputation, ' Midge panted, rubbing furiously.

I found I was rubbing myself through my trousers. When I looked at Barney again, he'd dropped his and pushed his jockeys out of the way so he could slide his hand up and down his own shaft, which throbbed and flexed, while he watched Midge's hand. Midge's eyes were on his prick. They were without doubt getting each other off.

Before I could say another word, Barney stopped rubbing and held his twitching cock so it was pointing at his sister. The head suddenly swelled up and the tiny hole opened. Spunk came flying out, big dollops of it, which landed on Midge, painting her from pussy to face with whitish, sticky spooge. Midge jammed the fingers of her rubbing hand firmly up her twat, while the other brushed semen out of her eyes, before grasping her breasts and spreading Barney's goop over them.

He grunted along with each wad of spunk he expelled. Midge seemed to be having one long orgasm, judging by the continuous whine I could hear.