Chapter 3: If The Shoe Fits

As author of the Harper Valley series, one might even say the ‘architect’ of my daughters’ ultimate loss of innocence - I must accept full responsibility. Despite their fully consensual stance, many readers might understandably infer, that for reasons of self-gratification, I encouraged their participation in activities that a more protective father may have avoided.

Personally I do not share this view - the fact is, they railroaded me into taking them, although admittedly I did little subsequently to steer the three of them from their course of sexual (mis)adventure. Natalie, as has been clearly documented (in “HV Postscript”) later embarked on a seriously perilous descent into sexual anarchy before being rescued literally at the eleventh hour.

Despite the fact that the three of them had cut all ties with the Valley, their lives back on-track ... above and below the waist, I had always sensed an unspoken ‘desire’ if you wish, in all of them, to just once ‘return to the scene of the crime.’

In her last year at school, Jenna often ‘looked’ at me when I dropped her off some mornings, like she wanted me to take her home and forget I was her father for a few hours once again. Kylie would still come by my room to kiss me goodnight some nights and it didn’t need an expert in body language to interpret her real motives for being there. Natalie too would come home from either a date or a girlfriend’s place and we would have a late-night coffee in the den. The way she would hold my hand while talking, left no doubt that the memory of our nights spent together was never that far away.

There has been another consequence to Harper Valley however. Aside from the hundreds of emails sent-in from readers worldwide - the greater proportion of which remains as I have mentioned before, female - principally in the 16-23 year-old sector - I have heard from a great many fathers (almost always in their mid to late forties) expressing their bitter frustration not only that they can never sexually possess their own daughters, but that they are unable to express their feelings to anyone.

As great a panacea as Harper Valley may have been for them to read in terms of a physical outlet let’s say, it has magnified for many, their own heartache and illicit desire for their young daughters. Many believe their feelings are requited but can never take that quantitative step of actually asking their daughters for fear of a subsequent domestic melt-down. Once you suggest your teenage daughter sleeps with you - there really is no way back from that, should she be shocked insensible. A marriage and sixteen years of fatherhood trust shattered by just half a dozen ill-timed words! Who would risk that?

I have been asked: “What should I say to my daughter that she might understand?” “How can I tell my wife, how I feel about Meredith?” “She often lets me see her after school in just her bra and panties ... do you think she wants me to touch her?” even such diabolically sad questions as “I know she’s only just turned thirteen, but I have these dreadful feelings of wanting to undress her and touch her - am I a complete sicko?”

Only other men with similar experiences or feelings can of course understand these situations. In almost every email that touches on this subject, the father’s great love and desire for his daughter comes through, rather than blatant lust for the unattainable.” Sadly, every case is different and there are no hard and fast ground-rules. Equally, no concise answers.

Bob though struck a chord with me. With two daughters just a year younger than Jenna and Kylie, his first email echoed his unspoken wish to if not exploit them sexually himself, to see them dressed provocatively (in company with my own girls I must add) and to be then used and abused in time-honored Harper Valley male fashion.

Just why the thought of seeing one’s teenage daughters dressed sexily and having considerably older men cum all over their dresses and faces is so arousing, I honestly cannot divine - but having been in the very fortunate position at Harper Valley of actually seeing this happen, both with my own daughters and many other young girls, I can only say it is an awesome visual revelation. In Bob’s case I suspect, having two fully innocent and supposedly virginal daughters on site - the concept became even hotter.

In subsequent emails, Bob forwarded to me pictures of the two girls that to be honest, aroused in myself, feelings not wholly at odds with his own. Angela, a most beautiful brunette, whose eyes held the key not only to your inner desires but hers also, stared up at me with an expression of confidence and allure that belied her fifteen years. Superbly groomed and made-up, the silver cross hanging from the tasteful little chain around her neck added to the carefully crafted aura of innocence, while the solitary red shoulder-strap presented a hint of flirtatious tease that I knew only too well, having the privilege of seeing all three of my own girl’s shoulder straps lowered to many an indecent level at the behest of numerous male admirers.

Tiffany meanwhile smiled up at me from her own photographic study. Technically blonde I suppose, something in her expression reminded me of a youthful Priscilla Presley. Equally well-groomed as her younger sister, something about the sixteen-year old schoolgirl infused my deep interest. Dressed all in white, smiling prettily, she was a dream and studying the picture for several minutes, I found it impossible to suppress many an inappropriate image of the young girl in far more revealing a pose and in infinitely less dressier a state if the truth be known.

It was only in a later email when Bob attached a picture of his wife Amy, that the genetic source of the girls’ appeal became evident. A stunningly beautiful woman herself, she did not look old enough to have children much past pre-school, let alone teenagers. Let’s just say the Gods had favored Bob to a greater degree than most of us!

It was during one of our bi-monthly cappuccinos together that I happened to mention to Jerry the enigma that was Bob’s wife and their two sexy-as-all-hell daughters. I mentioned also the fact that their father had in recent emails expressed a growing desire to see them dressed-up in the full satin mini-dress thing with nylons, high heels ... the whole enchilada.

“Seem to remember you once bringing Jenna and Kylie thus attired many months ago,” Jerry reminded me wistfully. Recalling in seminal detail the effect that had had on the general male populace at the time, I was lost in my own retro thought processes for a moment.

“And what? You’re saying this Bob character wants to go down the same road with his two??” His words brought me back to the real-time.

“Well whether he’s actually wanting to do it, or is just a slave to fantasy, I couldn’t tell you Jer. Have to get back to you on that one. Plus one other little problem anyway...”

“Yeah, what’s that?” Jerry asked.

“He’s in LA,” I grinned.

“Oh great Noel, well I guess we can strike that one huh?” he muttered forlornly.

As it happened, Bob made fairly regular contact with me after that and it was during one such email he finally admitted in lustful detail, the depth of his illicit desires. Not only did he crave some seriously perverted moments with all three of my girls, he longed to see both Angela and Tiffany involved in the action up to their (doubtless) cute little nipples.

It was his ‘greatest fantasy’ he reiterated, to see both, decked out in satiny prom-night dresses or similar, their nylons exposed well beyond their garter belts, and in high heels to boot - being taken repeatedly by more than one man and subsequently having their clothes and faces sprayed with cum.

Not the least constructive of fantasies when you come to think about it!

Given the detailed published recollections of my own girl’s experiences at Harper Valley I was in no position to admonish the man for his innate desires upon my own three. After all, the more I studied his daughter’s photographs - the more the overall concept appealed to me.

Now, I freely admit - not every Harper session was recorded for posterity in “The Complete Harper Valley.” One party in fact involved Jenna and Kylie being dressed pretty much as Bob describes - quite obviously a widespread male fantasy, as several fathers had been daring them to attend in evening wear, nylons and heels. It hadn’t taken much urging for the girls to comply as I recall. They were so sore that night!

During the course of subsequent exchanges, I asked Bob not only how “serious” he was about this, but how might such be viewed by both his wife and daughters?

In his reply he told me (and I had no reason to doubt his integrity here) that of late ... his wife had taken to displaying her nylon-clad legs “more than ever,” in public, and that he felt the girls were heading down the same track. I asked him what he meant exactly and he replied that they were becoming major sexual teases and that his wife appeared not to mind greatly. As to the question “did he think that all three might perhaps be prepared to ‘overstep the line of social acceptance?’ Bob simply replied that he “didn’t know, but that it was killing him in terms of lethal imagery.” That I could well understand!

Reporting back to Jerry at out next coffee-bar meet, I simply said “I have a gut feeling about this Jer, not only is Bob on the level I’m 100% sure, I really think these girls are up for it ... don’t ask me why, it’s just what their pictures tell me.

“Even so,” he replied, “What’s the point? - they’re in Los Angeles need I remind you? They may as well be dancing naked in the shopping center there - what can we do about it? Look if you’re so keen to get naughty with some young girls in mini-dresses, garter-belts and heels. why not get your three to dress up and bring them back over to the next party. It’d be a sell-out!”

“I told you Jer,” I replied. “We’re out and staying out - you all know that!”

“Then what the hell are we talking about here Noel,” he replied.

“Well I’ll tell you Jer,” I answered slowly. “I’ve been speaking to this guy and it’s just a sketchy idea at this stage but we could maybe go to LA and meet up with Bob in a decent hotel downtown - like, us having some business to transact, and just see what unravels?”

“You mean “we” as in you, Kylie and Jenna?” he interjected.

“I was meaning Natalie too - maybe you and Michelle, Warwick and Brianna? as well.

He looked at me for a minute. “You’ve totally flipped - you know that? ... You want to spend what, twenty five grand between us? to go meet up with some guy in a hotel in LA on the off-chance we can fuck his daughters while he fucks ours? Yeah right! besides, you just told me your three were off-limits big time.”

“This is different,” I tried to reason.

“Do they know anything about this?” he asked

“Not yet,” I told him, “But are you kidding? The chance to go to the US for the weekend - they’d happily dress-up for us.”

“What, and then spread their legs like in the good old days?” he added sarcastically.

“I’m not asking or expecting any such thing,” I replied, already imagining them doing just that.

“Bet you wouldn’t be advocating they go shopping downstairs to fill-in some time either,” Jer levelled at me accusingly.

I knew of course that in the event this could be arranged somehow, the instant they saw Bob and his family they may perhaps twig to the whole deal and realise why Jerry and Warwick had brought their kids too. I didn’t figure they would be all that disappointed in me either - a last hurrah as it were. You know, when I think about it - I really need to be locked up.

‘Incidentally Jer,” I said, putting my coffee on the table, “Got something you might be interested in.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” he replied.

I pushed the photos of Angela and Tiffany alongside his ham and cheese melt. He almost choked. “Saints and sinners,” he muttered, “That’s really his daughters?”

I pointed out one from the other. “And this is Amy, his wife,” I added, pushing the photo of her and the two girls, alongside the other glossies. For a moment he was a study in contemplation.

“Well lets just say it explains Bob’s thinking ... and your interest too come to that,” Jer commented. I could see his hand was almost shaking. “Jesus mate, they are as hot as your three, how old are they again?”

“Angela’s fifteen and Tiff sixteen,” I reiterated. “They look older huh?”

“I wasn’t looking at their faces,” he murmured. I could hardly blame him.

From emailed correspondence between Bob and I in the coming weeks, it was obvious he was keen to pursue the “business meeting” scenario, and that the potential for Jerry and Warwick to accompany us with their daughters also, was causing him to froth at the mouth. Not exactly ‘Harper Valley comes to town’ but getting on for it!

“Will they all be dressed up?” he wrote. I knew exactly what he meant.

Of course the question of his two daughter’s involvement, was not one he could answer although God- knows - his preferences were clear enough.

Having seen Amy, Tiffany and Angela’s pictures, Jerry was an instant convert. Warwick simply said he “liked LA anyway!”

At the point I broke the news to my three girls - adhering of course to the same “business forum” cover- story, they all jumped at the chance. Having additionally one of our major Airlines as an on-going client, I was able to swing a deal for the eight of us at close to half price.

Two weeks later, Friday afternoon saw our three families checking-in at the United Airlines flight desk before we retired to the refreshments lounge to await our boarding call. Warwick was surprisingly animated, Jer, having trouble keeping his hands off my three, and Michelle and Brianna giggling away like the beautiful little teases they always were. I couldn’t help thinking ... whatever charms Tiffany and Angela might be able to dredge up collectively, they would be hard- pressed to equal, let alone top, the sheer youthful zest and desirability of the five angels we were packing that day. I mentioned as much to Jer who just nodded.

“If you have any idea what I would like to do with Natalie, Jenna and Kylie,” he began, “It’s been so long...”

“Say no more Jer,” I cut him off... “I’ll only have to mutilate you badly if you tell me!” His sudden glance downwards suggested he wasn’t too sure about that one.

One incongruity about flying to LA from Australia that never ceases to amaze - the fact that you get there a few hours before you left Sydney, courtesy of the International date line. Since we were spending just the Friday and Saturday night in LA, we picked up a cheap Plymouth Voyager on a two-day rental plan. All the girls were expecting obviously to be accorded another Anaheim/Disneyland indulgence - especially with Brianna never having been there. Actually, none of us ever grew up if the truth be known. Why else do you imagine I am Peter_Pan?

Had not the Wilshire Grand its own parking facilities, we would have been driving the length of Wilshire Boulevarde most of Friday night, looking for a space. Pre-booked, we had three adjoining suites, Warwick and Brianna next to us, Jerry and Michelle - further down the hallway.

First up, I called Bob and told him we were “in residence.” He sounded pretty happy and we agreed to all meet later for dinner in the Cardini restaurant down in the hotel lobby. As far as the girls all knew, the meeting was purely in relation to a business venture between Jerry, myself Warwick and our American counterpart.

“It’s kind of a formal restaurant,” I told my three (Jerry and Warwick I knew, passing along the same information to their girls) “The guy we’ve come to meet will be bringing his family he tells me, so dress to impress huh?” They had come prepared and with no expectation I’m sure of anything much beyond just sitting there and looking pretty, they took themselves off to the bathroom to set about creating an impression.

Forty minutes can make such a difference. Three bubbly young daughters walked into the en-suite - three courtesans walked out! Natalie had on a shimmering gold two-piece who’s sole purpose appeared to be that of highlighting the deepest cleavage I had ever known her to put on view, as well as show-casing by virtue of its tightness - her now highly spankable rear-end. The sheerest of nylons disappeared up into the forbidden zone, the whole image being set off by a pair of gold-inlaid high heels with some sort of Roman lacing around the ankles. I was thinking - this has to be every man’s fantasy - but then I saw Kylie.

Dresses like that should be illegal. Blue satin, it wasn’t so much tight on her as sprayed-on. Whether actually satin or silk I couldn’t at first adjudge, I was too busy looking at other things. Like her older sister, her breasts were defying gravity in whatever technologically advanced bra that was and at the point the dress curved in to her waist, her beautiful figure was accentuated to the max. She had on stockings that if I was not mistaken were held up by a sexy garter-belt she must have brought along for the occasion. The smile she tossed me in passing, acknowledged exactly what I was thinking. Make-up wise she stuck with just light bluish mascara and a touch of rouge. All three made judicious use of lip-gloss.

Jenna’s outfit removed what sanity I may still have been clinging to. A satiny two-piece, the top was so low cut at the back you could see the clasp of what was obviously a strapless bra. Almost metallic looking, the camisole-inspired top hung adrift from that micro-mini skirt by almost two inches, rendering unto the male gaze, a ribbon of naked teenage abdomen that could only ever be tempered with a cold shower. She too was wearing sexy stockings and God knows what underneath. The heels just set off the vision perfectly. Bob was risking his health and he didn’t even know it yet.

“Do we look alright dad?” Kylie smiled teasingly.

I just looked at those three angels, wanting nothing other than to take them all back to bed right then and there and to fuck them senseless by rotation. I knew instinctively it was their combined preference too.

“You are the three prettiest girls any father ever had for daughters,” I told them. “I don’t have to say what I feel do I?” They all lowered their gaze - Natalie even blushed slightly.

“C’mon kids, lets go downstairs,” I said, opening the door and ushering them out - mainly so’s I could take in the full arousing aspect of their sexy little bottoms in passing. And how disorientating were those combined perfumes? Just as well the stairs had a hand-rail!

Just across from reception, Jer and Warwick, both resplendent in dinner-suits, waited outside the doors to the Cardini with Brianna and Michelle in tow, equally as stunning as my three. Seems everyone had opted for mini-dresses designed, if not to kill - to optically cripple and to induce a Hamelin-like fascination. Michelle’s hemline for instance was so far above the knee, I had already made a mental note to be under the table when she sat down.

Having previously made a booking for twelve, our table was already set-up and ready. We took our seats, Jer and I at opposing heads of the table, leaving four spaces in the center - two either side for our visitors. Bob’s two daughters I figured would be best served seated between Kylie and Brianna.

Barely had I mentioned that “Bob and his family will be here shortly,” when my eyes lit upon on a small group just that second walking through the door. One of them was Bob I’d presume - I really wasn’t looking! Angela, hugging her mother’s left arm was all I could concentrate on. In a dress not dissimilar to Natalie’s, she carried herself like a model. Made-up professionally by the look of it, all I could think of was, how pretty she must look in just her bra and panties.

Tiffany was no less captivating and quite honestly I have to wonder how Bob had managed to rein-in his testosteronic urges these past few years. Amy too was quite as beautiful as in her picture looking still in her mid-twenties. The outfit she had on left little to the imagination. He was right - she quite obviously did enjoy flaunting her charms - those which preceded her especially.

Introductions involving that many people took a while but let it be said Angela and Tiffany hit it off with our five instantly. Even by the time Bob and Amy had met myself, Jer and Warwick ... the seven girls were all chatting together across the table like old friends. Boys, movies, cell-phones - some things never change!

Bob’s face was a study in fully abandoned lust. Not so much a kid in a candy shop as a greyhound brought up by a family of March hares. The poor guy didn’t know which way to look. More than once Natalie caught him staring at her and flashed him one of her trademark “I’m a good Catholic girl, but anyone can be persuaded” looks.

Not that Jerry was in any calmer a state, staring at Tiffany as a lifer might stare at Miss August as she bends over to retrieve an earring while wearing a bikini. That’s OK ... what I was imagining doing to Angela doesn’t bear admission either. In an attempt to distract myself I began talking to Amy but all this achieved was to focus my attentions instead on her “come hither or get lost” cleavage.

Hell, we were supposed to be there for business - you’d never have guessed it!

The Cardini is a class act let it be known. Most of the girls settled for the “Sfilatino Al Taccino” - a smoked turkey creation that looked pretty damn good. Jer and I stuck with “Chianina Rustica” a New York cut steak that is so thick it comes with a chain-saw. Amy and Warwick gambled on the Monterey Chicken while Bob slummed it with the “Cardini burger” which if marketed properly would put McDonalds out of business overnight.

Neither Bob or Amy seemed to be watching their children’s alcoholic intake and since no-one asked for ID they and ours partook of a cruiser each and God knows how much champagne ... there were a hell of a lot of empty bottles snd glasses as I recall.

How anyone managed dessert I don’t know, but after the demise of the Grand Marnier souffle, various bowls of sorbet, sodas and coffees, everyone was running on a full tank.

Under the pretext then of really having to discuss business, it was suggested Amy and the seven girls retire to our suite for a nightcap, whatever, and wait for us to come up later. With two King size double beds, one single, lounges, chairs and an enormous table - there was more than enough space for them to relax.

“I can’t believe those daughters of yours,” Bob said, putting his coffee cup down and missing the saucer by a good few inches. “For Chrissakes guys, I can only imagine what it was like at the parties - your three Noel are unbelievable. That middle one ... what’s her name? Kylie? Jeez, I’m sorry for saying this - its just the champagne talking ... but even reading all that stuff you wrote that she and her sisters did - seeing her sitting there just made me...”

“Yeah, it’s OK Bob,” I cut him off. “You wouldn’t want to know my thoughts either, staring at your two.”

“Would you really like to fuck them? he semi slurred. Several heads turned around slightly from neighboring tables.

“Well I can’t speak for Noel,” Warwick announced suddenly, “But I can tell you this - if your two ever came to one of our parties - they would be coming home pretty sore.”

Bob was silent for a moment. “You all know I want to see them fucked don’t you?” he drawled.

“Amy too?” put in Jerry hopefully.

“Sure,” Bob answered... “Think it’s gonna happen?”

“Let’s go upstairs and find out,” Warwick smiled finishing his own short black.

“Just hold on a moment,” I interjected. “We’re supposed to be having a business meeting here. We can’t just go up there after five minutes and expect no-one to be suspicious. As far as I know, none of them ... your wife included Bob, have any idea why we brought them all here ... right?”

“I guess not he said,” Jer was nodding wisely I noticed.

“He’s right,” he said, “Last thing we want to do is to alert any of them that we have plans afoot.”

And thus we did the worst possible thing in ordering another round of drinks. Subsequently, there was a truck-load of discussion but it sure as Hell wasn’t business.

By my fifth JD and ice, I was certainly happily disposed towards life let’s say. I can’t speak for the others but I figure it would not be an inaccurism to describe their condition as er, ‘needful?’

Jer stumbled twice between the checkout counter and the elevator- and they’re directly opposite one another. Jenna opened the door to our suite.

“Oh Hello dad,” she smiled “Finished your meeting?” She glanced at the other three and surely could not fail to have noticed Bob stripping her with his eyes ... nothing she hasn’t seen a hundred times before of course.

“Three of them,” Bob muttered under his breath as we entered the room...”God and I thought I had problems with just my two!”

Inside another shock awaited. The table over near the TV contained now a veritable jumble of empty glasses and vodka-cruiser bottles. There appeared to be also more than the usual amount of giggling. Brianna, Kylie and Tiffany were spread comfortably over one of the King-size beds, Natalie and Amy were seated over by the window - both drinking some beverage that would appear to have originated from Room Service and enjoying each other’s company, to judge by the occasional laughter and Amy’s propensity to touch Natalie’s arm when making a point about something.

Angela, Jenna and Michelle had commandeered the other double bed and were equally engrossed in some animated discussion. The good news is that whether any of them knew it or not, more than a hint of sexy panties was visible - in Tiffany’s case, some of her garter-belt as well. Pretty much all their skirts and dresses had ridden up their owner’s thighs to a degree and it would have taken decidedly more will-power than the four of us men had on site, to overlook the smorgasbord of temptation in various coronary-inducing poses around the room.

Bob’s none too quiet “Jesus Christ” as he looked around the suite said it all!

Figuring to take the softest option on offer, I simply drew a chair up beside Natalie, asked if I could refresh either her or Amy’s drink - that being merely an excuse to pour myself another one.

Bob and Jerry took themselves off to the far side of the room, Bob none too surprisingly sat himself down near Kylie while Jer seated himself way nearer Tiffany than he need. Judging by Tiff’s “you gotta be kidding” glance in his direction, I wouldn’t say he made that great a first-up impression. Brianna though flashed him a genuinely warm smile and moved in a little closer.

Warwick then sidled over to the other bed and no sooner had he sat down there than Michelle cuddled his arm and nestled right up close and personal. His expression suggested he wished it had been Jenna!

“You two know each other well?” Angela asked in all innocence. Michelle giggled, as did Jenna of course.

“Oh yeah ... really well,” Michelle told her, “He’s my father’s best friend, along with Mr. Baker over there. We all see heaps of each other.”

“Our dad doesn’t have that many friends,” I heard Angela drawl in her rather attractive Cali accent “Such a shame,” she giggled like the sexy little fifteen year old she is.

Closer to home, I was finding Amy a major distraction. She certainly had all the flirtatious moves down pat - eye flutters, crossing and uncrossing of the legs for effect. Not exactly the Sharon Stone/Basic Instinct shuffle but enough to let me know her nylons only reached up a finite way and that beyond that, lay areas one might find very interesting. I was certainly interested.

More than once I recall wondering if she had a thing for girls. Just the way she would rest her hand on Natalie’s thigh occasionally or the hot smiles she seemed to be giving her. I could have been wrong ... and certainly Nat didn’t seem to notice anything unusual. How was I ever going to get my hands in this woman’s panties, never mind anything else.

Natalie’s sudden “Oh my gosh dad,” followed by her hand over her mouth, more to limit her giggles than anything else, had me turn my head sharply.

God knows how Kylie had gotten sucked in to the action - last I saw, Jerry was snuggling up to Brianna, but unless my eyes deceived me, Jer was planting a couple of smoochies on Kylie’s arm and shoulders. Making little attempt to escape her fate, she was giggling along with Brianna. Tiffany’s face was priceless.

“Mr. Clarke,” she spluttered, “Are you crazy? Her father’s just over there talking with my mom.”

“I don’t think she minds too much,” I heard Jer reply. “Besides Tiffany, we often do this - you should try it!

So saying, he kissed Kylie flush on the lips. Tiffany just sat there staring. She also appeared to be inching her way towards Brianna - either for moral support or to get a better view of proceedings. I couldn’t tell which.