Chapter 1: A Broken Father

It was a typical Saturday for Angie Brighton:

Her father picked her up around ten, and took her to lunch. Then, it was back to his place were she spent the afternoon working on her homework. The evening was usually order-out pizza, and a movie. She liked to watch movies at his place because he would let her watch the R-rated ones as long -as there wasn't too much gore or sex. But at home, her mother cut her off at PG-13. She was a bitch, as far as Angie was concerned, anyways...

It was her mother that filed for divorce. And it wasn't because he was an alcoholic, abusive, or a cheater. In fact, she was the cheater, and the only reason she wanted the divorce was so she could sink her talons into her new, rich boyfriend. It was only two-years ago, and Angie and her dad both knew what she was up to, but there was no way that her infidelity could be proved. So, she got every-thing -including custody of their young daughter.

Often, Angie could see the sadness in his eyes, and she knew that he had never really gotten over the pain and humiliation. Especially since her mother married her sugar-daddy not but two-weeks after the divorce was finalized. However, he did do his best to put on a cheerful face when she was visiting. She really wished that she could live with him despite of all of the wealth and comfort of her mom's new home.

It was late that night, in the small-hours of Sunday morning, that everything changed:

Angie had been awakened by something. A strange noise, perhaps? So, she headed to investigate. The young girl could hear the sounds of sex coming from the living-room, but could tell that it was on the TV. She almost knew what she was going to find, and there was a part of her that didn't want to see, but it was her adolescent curiosity that gave her the courage to press forward.

Peering around the corner, she could see her father from behind sitting on the couch. On the television was some guy pounding a girl that was laying on her back, with an opened, white blouse, and a plaid skirt hiked-up around her waist. She could also see her father's right shoulder bouncing, rhythmically, up-and-down.

She gasped, quietly, and thought, O-M-G! He's watching school-girl porn!

She couldn't believe it! Her father was a dirty-old-man!

Once again, Angie had mixed feelings. While a part of her wanted to run away, another part of her was getting turned-on by the whole scene. And, once again, her adolescent curiosity got the better of her.

She stood there silently for a time, feeling the warm rush to her nethers, and the wetness building down-there. As the seconds passed, she felt her nipples become like little stones. And when she made the slightest move, her soft, cotton nightgown felt like burlap rubbing against them. Her breath became deeper, more labored, as she watched her father. Although, from her vantage, she could not see him stroking his thingy, she knew that was what he was doing.

She pictured it in her mind's eye: his strong hand wrapped around the thick, fleshy shaft, languidly moving along its' length. She gasped again, but this time, too loudly.

Her father snapped his head around, scanning the darkness, and finally rested on her silhouette. And when he realized that his daughter was there, he began to scramble, turning off the TV, and pulling a blanket over his lap.

"What are you doin' up, honey?" he asked, with a nervous tremble in his voice, while trying to pretend that nothing was amiss.

"Something woke me up," she responded, innocently, at first, "and I came to see what it was. What are you doing, Daddy?"

He heard the accusatory tone in her question, and he knew that he was caught. Still, he tried to play it off...

"Nothin', just watching some TV."

"Oh, please!" she exclaimed, as if she would not be so easily fooled, "I know what you were doin'," she continued, matter-of-factually, as she began to step forward, "and it's no big deal! People do it all the time; it's totally normal."

He sat there in shocked silence unable to respond, until he realized that his daughter was sitting next to him on the couch.

"I'm sorry, pumpkin," he blurted out, trying to compose himself, "why don't you just go back to bed, and we'll forget about it, 'kay?"

"Don't be embarrassed, Daddy." she pleaded with him, "I was about ready to do it, too!"

She couldn't believe she just said that to her father. It just jumped right out of her mouth. And with these words, they both just stared at each other in the darkness, as taboo images ran through Angie's young mind. She wanted to watch him do it; she wanted to see him cum. She had done it to herself before, but she had never seen a boy do it before.

"Just turn the movie back on, Dad," she demanded, as if requesting a glass of milk, "I wanna watch what you're watching."

"Young-lady!" he almost yelled, "I don't think that's very appropriate, do you? Not to mention, I think it maybe illegal?"

"Please, daddy, please?" she begged, putting on her best pouty-princess voice.

"Just go to bed." he ordered her, in a calm tone, pretending that she just hadn't suggested that they watch porn together.