I sympathized with my daughter, Candy. Her father was way too restrictive with her. She was fifteen, and boys were asking her on dates. I understood John's point and shared his concerns as well. Candy wasn't ready to make mature decisions about her body, sex, and picking what boys were good and which ones were not. Candy is a sweet kid. We named her right, but she has no idea how sweet she looks to the opposite sex.

Candy still has a child's frame, but a woman's body has grown on it. She has full size breasts, a tiny waist, and full hips; the classic female hour glass, only scaled down. She stands four foot ten inches, weighs eighty-eight pounds, and measures thirty-two, sixteen, thirty-one. Those would be respectable measurements on a full-sized woman like me, but on Candy, they look positively voluptuous. With her full mane of auburn hair, big green eyes, and pearly white smile, she has no idea how sexy she looks.

She's not exactly an airhead, but she's no Rhode's scholar either. Gullible, naive, easily led, easily influenced, and overly-trusting do come to mind. She adores male attention and sucks up compliments like an industrial shop vac. Candy doesn't know how to play the game, and I can't bring myself to talk about back seat ball games. I still haven't told her about the birds and bees. The right guy, saying the right lines, could round the bases and slide into home with his first time at bat.

She needs a big sister, or a father who doesn't break out in sweats around her. It's not the sweats so much, it's the erection he gets that causes the sweats. Candy has noticed his problem. She likes to snuggle up on his lap in her baby doll nightie. She took her seat a little too quickly one night and made John cry out. She lifted up, saying, "Oops, sorry Daddy." John told her it was a condition he picked up in the Vietnam war. She scooted off his boner and looked at the bulge in his pants, saying, "Does it hurt?"

I almost spit out a mouthful of soda when she said that. You see what I mean about being naive? I was as eager as Candy to hear John's reply. I sat forward, trying to hold in my smile. John gave me a harsh look, like, "I hope you're enjoying this, Pam." Mine said, "Oh, I am, John, I am." He said, "No, Candy, it doesn't hurt. It just gets stiff for no reason, and it can be embarrassing at times."

Candy continued staring at the bulge tenting her father's PJ's, not at all bashful about looking at her father's crotch. She said, "I'll bet. Sometimes boys get those in class and everybody laughs. I don't think they were in a war though. Does it hurt when I sit on it?"

I almost lost my composure. John's face had sweat beads running. He gave me another dirty look, then said, "No, just don't jump on it."

Candy lifted her ass, shifted back over his erection, and eased herself down. She likes to recline on John, and since John was already lying back in his lounger, her soft buns settled right over his cock. To make matters worse, John had on thin cotton boxer shorts, and Candy wore no panties. This was no surprise. She never wore anything under her nightie, but this was a new nightie. She picked it out, and her new nightie was short, sheer, and loose.

His eyes rolled back as she settled again and let her legs fall outside his. Poor John. Lying still for this had to be sheer torture for him. He was embarrassed that I was watching. I was looking into her beaver, but this didn't bother her. I shaved her crotch for her itsy bitsy bikini. John couldn't see Candy's shaved beaver from his position, but it sure looked pretty from mine. What's more, his cock may have been exposed through the fly, and may have been nestled between her ass cheeks or cunt lips. I couldn't see that, but it was quite possible. She did an awful lot of adjusting before settling.

She said, "Boy, it sure feels big. I can feel it throb, and I can feel the heat. Are you sure it doesn't hurt? I can sit on the floor and watch TV if you want."

"No, just don't move around too much. It doesn't hurt. Watch the TV."

John cast me an apologetic, innocent look, but I wasn't looking with accusing eyes. I didn't blame him one bit. Candy is, like I said, too sweet to resist. I'm not gay, and I find myself looking. Unlike John, I sometimes see her stark naked, and she takes my breath away. I've seen her spread beaver when I trim her pubic area for her swim suit. The civic pool is her favorite hangout now that school is out for the summer.

The pool is within easy walking distance, through a good neighborhood, so we let her walk. John had a fit when he saw the suit she picked out and I bought. I wasn't too keen on buying the obscene thing, but a string bikini was the only suit that we could make fit.

Her tits won't fit in child suits, and adults suits are too long, or the bottoms won't fit. I bought the bikini to satisfy Candy, certain John would send it back. Surprisingly, he didn't.

She is damned-near naked in the bikini, and that probably explains why John accepted the suit. In the summer, she lives in her swim suit. The suit looks okay except when she parts her legs. The crotch strap, connecting the front and back triangular patches, is nothing more than string, the same string that connects the top tittie patches. That string gets lost in her crack. She is not the least bit bashful about this, but she hates pubic hair showing. The thought that a loose pubic hair might poke out under the thin crotch patch drives her crazy, so I keep her bush trimmed for her. That's when I sweat.

The last time I gave her a trim, she wanted me to remove all the hair from between her legs. I told her I'd shave her there, but it would mean she'd have to have it shaved regularly or the stubble would irritate her. I told her every other day at least.

That news didn't bother her, and it certainly didn't bother me. I've seen hundreds of beavers in John's secret stash of girlie magazines, but I never saw a pussy to rival Candy's. Hers is a pussy of extraordinary perfection--a pink, puffy, pouch that yawns open at the slightest parting of her legs.

Her Pussy always looks ready to receive a big cock. I've never seen her snatch when it wasn't slick, glistening, and showing her coral pink inner flesh. She has a well-defined clit that looks like a bald rodent trying to push its way out from her two full labia lips.

When I begin shaving, and move those parts with my fingers, that clit actually gets an erection and sticks up at least an inch. Her thin, shiny, inner lips form a funnel to her pussy hole, and that hole looks so pure, so clean, you just want to put your tongue in and swirl around. I've never envied men, but when I gaze on Candy's cunt hole, I wish I had a stiff cock or a ten-inch tongue.

John doesn't know I am shaving Candy's cunt. I've never shared what I've seen with him. The only time he sees her sitting immodestly--and sitting immodestly is the only way you'd see the crotch string--is when she's sitting on him. Frankly, I am embarrassed by my response to my daughter's vagina.

I lust after her body, and I have just recently come to grips with that. I suffered great guilt over the wicked thoughts I couldn't seem to stop. I quit fighting the thoughts months ago, knowing I'd never do anything. My private fantasies were no one's business but my own. I gave myself free license to fantasize. Since doing that, I've had some doozies. When the shaving began, last month, my fantasies went through the roof.

No, I didn't blame John for his wicked thoughts. I know he'd never act on his either. Oh, he'd cop an innocent feel of tit, maybe peek where he shouldn't. I've caught him sniffing her panties and looking inside her nightie as she slept. I never say anything about these things. I think they're innocent, and I know John will never molest his daughter. That worry never crossed my mind.

He fantasizes about her, just as I do. I wish we were open enough to share our fantasies. Our sex would be greatly enhanced if we did. As it is, our sex life is almost non-existent. I'd love to hear his fantasies while he's screwing me, and I know he'd love mine. I could pretend I was Candy. We look alike. I can imitate her speech and manners. In the dark, the act would be easy. I'm just a little taller, that's all. I'm only five two, just four inches bigger. I'd love playing Candy, seducing my daddy.

As I watched the innocent way she laid over John, I couldn't help but think, "Candy, if you only knew half of what I know, you could fuck him anytime you wanted."

That was a new thought. Oddly, the idea of Candy seducing John never crossed my mind before. The idea was a big stretch for the imagination. My fantasies, to be effective as turn-ons, have to be within the possible. Something absurd, just won't do it for me. The notion sent delicious tingles through me, and I thought more along those lines.

John would succumb if Candy made all the moves on him. His dick was nestled between her ass cheeks because she took the initiative. He was putty in her hands. Between her ass cheeks he was simply a mass of warm jelly. Yes, I'd like that. I wouldn't even mind sharing John with my sexy daughter. There were always threesomes. If she seduced John, she might seduce me. The scenario was possible.

The problem was, Candy couldn't seduce a child molester. The art was something I couldn't teach. Not that I was all that bashful, but the best way to learn the art of seduction, was to experience being seduced. I learned in the back seats of cars, and the lessons took fast. After you've been talked into spreading your legs for a hard cock by two or three boys, you kind of get the idea. You see how they got you that way when you started off with no intention of serving as some kid's love toy.

When sperm is leaking from your fertile and unprotected pussy, and you just know there's an egg in your womb receiving one sperm cell, splitting, and growing. When you think you are royally fucked, pregnant at sixteen by a jerk, you can't help but say to yourself, "Why in the hell did I let him shoot his cum in my twat. I begged him to shoot inside. God, what an idiot I am." Then you figure out how he did it, and you learn how to guard against seduction, and how to seduce. Candy could learn like I did if John would just let her go out on dates.

That's when I made the decision to move from John's position to support Candy's. I wanted her to start dating, and I didn't care if she got pregnant. Actually, picturing Candy eight or nine months pregnant, spreading her legs for a twat shave, was not a bad picture. I would not mind having a baby around the house, and she could leave the infant with us to raise if she decided to. The idea grew stronger and stronger. I saw nothing but positives coming from getting Candy together with virile young boys.

There were a string of them asking her out; most were juniors and seniors, veterans of the art. They were hard-bodied young studs with stiff cocks, dying to fuck our Candy, dying to squirt their sperm into her unprotected womb. All any one of them needed was a few minutes alone with her.

I said, "John, I've been thinking. I dated at fifteen. Why not let Candy go out on dates?"

John turned a surprised face on me. Candy sat up fast, hurting his cock. "Sorry, Dad. Really, Mom? Can I, Dad?"

"No, absolutely not. Pam, why did you bring this up in front of Candy? If you had a change of heart, we need to discuss it in private."

"Why not discuss this with her here. She should be in on this discussion. I think she has a right to date."

Candy said, "I do. All the other girls are dating. They call me a baby."

"No! Pam, you're making me the bad guy, and I don't like it. You know very well why I won't permit it. We discussed this. You agreed. Why, all of a sudden, has anything changed?"

Candy turned from me to him and back, grinding her ass on John's cock as we volleyed. She saw his grimace and said, "Oh, sorry, Dad. That hurt your thing, huh?"

John looked to me and said, "See. My thing. You think she's ready to go on a date with a boy who has a thing."

"Would you have preferred she said, cock?" Candy blushed. "She knows what your thing is called, John. She was just talking nice."

Candy said, "Mom's right, Dad. I know all the words they call it. I just said thing because I can't say bad words."

He said, "You can say penis."

I said, "The point is, she didn't say thing because she didn't know what it's called or what it's for. Candy, you do know what a penis is for, don't you?"

Candy blushed and nodded. She said, "We studied that in school. Everybody knows what they're for besides going to the bathroom."

"There, John. She's not a child anymore, and we can't force her to remain one. She is sexually mature, and she has to learn how to manage her sexually mature body. It is her body, after all."

"That's right, Daddy. It is my body."

"I know it's your body, and I know what these boys would like to do with it. That's why you're not going on a date until you're sixteen, and maybe not then. If I think you're mature enough at sixteen, we'll see. You are not dating. This discussion is closed."

The discussion closed for the moment, but when I got John in the bedroom, I re-opened it. I pushed hard. I was as adamant as he was. We ended the discussion with a compromise. She'd date, but I had to chaperon. I wasn't crazy about the idea, but it was a start, a foot in the door.

Candy was elated, and only slightly put out that I was going along. Her first date was a cute kid, a junior who played drums in the school band. As we drove to his house to pick him up, I told Candy I didn't like playing the role of chaperon, and I wanted her to pretend I wasn't there. I asked her not to speak to me, to pretend I was invisible, a ghost.

When Barry got in and sat between us, I could see he was uncomfortable with me being there. He didn't know where to put his hands and sat stiffly, trying to keep his legs from touching mine or Candy's. I patted his thigh and said, "Hey, relax. I won't bite." He relaxed a bit.

I gave him the same speech I gave Candy, and he relaxed a bit more. I could see he was still confused. He needed more relaxing, so I let my hand rest on his thigh as I drove and offered more of an explanation.

I said, "I fought hard for Candy to have the right to date. You two should be alone so you can get better acquainted. I really do wish you'd pretend I wasn't here. I know what goes on with teen dates. I was a teenager myself once. I won't say a thing, no matter what happens on this date." I squeezed his leg, trying to pass emphasis on the what.

He looked to me as if to say, "Lady, your what and my what are two totally different whats. I want what your daughter has between her legs. I want to shove my cock so far up her twat, it will come out her mouth. That's the what I want. I don't know what what you're thinking of, but rub my leg a little higher. That feels good."

I know, that's a lot to convey with a look, but that's what I picked up. I slid my hand higher, squeezed harder, and said, "Do whatever you would do if you were alone with Candy. I will understand completely, and I will honor my pledge to you, that nothing you two decide to do will ever be brought up by me." I slid my hand higher, right to the top, squeezed firmly, and repeated, "No matter what."

This time, his look said, "Lady, you're freaking me out. What fucking planet are you from? Do you get your jollies watching kids fuck, or what?"

I didn't want Candy to see, so I opened my hand and used my fingers to press unmistakably against his scrotum several times. To him, my subtle signal was a clear as if I'd cupped his crotch and squeezed. He put his arm around Candy and drew her close, looking to me all the while. I smiled and said, "Just tell me where you'd drive the car, and I'll drive it there, otherwise, I'm not here."

"I'd drive out to the lake, down old Stempson Road. There's a quiet spot I know there. It's a great place for teenagers to get acquainted."

I set off for the lake in the early evening twilight. Though the sun was down, we had plenty of light left. I could see the red full moon cresting the horizon, and knew we'd be in for a treat at the lake. I kept an eye on them all the way out. He turned to Candy and said, "You're looking good, babe, damn good."

"Thanks. This dress is kinda old, but it's my favorite."

"I can see why. You look so much older, so lady-like."

"Really. It's not too short, is it?"

Barry toyed with the hem of her skirt, then glanced over to see how I took that move. I'm not sure he caught my wink, but his head turned back and his hand moved the skirt up her thighs by several inches, saying, "Too short? This wouldn't be too short for me, or this, or this, not even this. You have the sexiest legs in school."

"Wow, Barry. Nobody wears them that short. Barry, don't. My Mom."

I expected this, and said, "There's no Moms in this car."

Barry said, "Relax, Candy. I just want to look at your beautiful legs."

"Barry! You're showing my panties."

"So. You wear less in your bikini. I've seen you in it. You're a knockout."

"Do you really like it. It's kind of daring, don't you think? I get a lot of dirty looks from old ladies when I walk to and from the pool."

Barry folded Candy's skirt into her lap and pulled her legs onto his. This turned Candy so that her back was against the door. Her legs rested on Barry's lap, and her high heels were touching my thigh. Barry was working fast. He took me at my word, but kept glancing over to confirm my silence as his hands roamed her legs.

Each time he advanced toward her crotch, he'd check on me again. We weren't halfway to his makeout spot, and he was going for first base. His flattery was working. Candy ate up every word. His hands were sliding up and down her inner thighs, almost, but not quite, touching her panties. Candy watched his hands and would glance to me when his fingers neared the apex of her legs.

Candy watched in silence until he did touch her panties. Her hands came down with the skirt to gently block another pantie strike, covering her panties with her skirt, saying, "Barry, I don't think you should rub my legs that high up."

"But, they're so soft and lovely. I want to touch every square micron of your gorgeous legs." Barry pushed the skirt back up to her middle.

"We're not really alone. It's just pretend." She pulled the skirt down.

I said, "There are only two people in this car."

Barry placed the skirt high in her lap, baring her skin above her panties. Candy left the skirt up, but continued to block with her hands. Barry said, "Come on, Candy. No one will ever know. It's just you and me, alone. God, you are so beautiful, so soft, so damned sexy. I wish you were naked."

"Barry! Forget it. I'm not taking all my clothes off just so you can see me naked. Besides, if you've seen me in my bikini, you've almost seen me naked."

"Yes, but the best parts were covered up."

"I thought my legs were my best part?"

"I just said they were the sexiest legs in our school. I know you have better parts than that, much better."

"You do not. You're guessing, unless you're a peeping tom."

"I'm not guessing; I know. Why do you think we all fight to get behind you when you go up the high dive?"

"Why do you?"

"Because we can look up and see your shaved cunt lips chewing on that little string that passes between your legs, that's why. Hell, Candy, everybody at the pool has seen your pussy. Sometimes the string gets pushed to one side or the other after you jump and it's all out in the open, clit and all. Half the time, you climb out of the pool with that pussy patch up on your belly button, and both tits hanging in the breeze. I've seen you totally naked lots of times."

"No you haven't. Mom, he's lying."

"Yeah, then how come I know you shave your cunt?" She didn't have an answer for that. "How come I know your nipples are as big as silver dollars with tips like pencil erasers?" He had her there, too. "Besides, I can tell what a girl has between her legs by looking at the way she walks. I watch you walk a lot."

"You can't tell by watching a girl walk."

"I can. I'll bet you anything that if you get naked in front of twenty guys, they'll all say your pussy is your finest feature."

"Barry! My mother is right here. I wish you'd stop talking like that and using those nasty words. I'm not going to do anything with my mom in the car, so forget it. Besides, if you've already seen me naked, you know what everything looks like."

I said, "There's no mother in this car. And Barry is right. It is your best feature."

"Mom!"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm not here. Forget I said anything."

Barry said, "Come on, Candy. Show me your pussy. Don't hide your best part from me. That would be cruel. Come on. Lift your ass up."

Barry had his hands on her panty waist band and pulled them down to Candy's mound. Candy squeezed her legs together, halting their progress, but Barry moved his right hand to the front and pulled out to look at the top of her pussy. Candy squirmed and tried to pull up on the panties, saying, "Barry, don't. You're embarrassing me. Don't look at me there."

"God, your shaved pussy is beautiful up close. I've never seen a more beautiful pussy, ever."

Barry began working his hands around the rolled panty material, pulling down as he went. Candy made it look like she was pulling against him, but she lost steady ground. Without her lifting her ass, he managed to work the panties down to her knees. I took them from there, which surprised Barry and shocked Candy. Both were staring at me after I worked the panties free of her feet.

I felt so stupid. I shouldn't have done that. They were both staring at me. I said, "Well, they were obviously coming off. If I weren't here, they'd probably have come off sooner. I was just trying to compensate for being in the way. I told you, I've been through this. I know what goes on between a boy and a girl on a date, and I don't want to interfere with that process."

Candy said, "Great, but you don't have to help him. If you help anyone, shouldn't it be me?"

We came to the end of the dirt road, which opened onto the lake. There were no other cars. The full moon was up and shining brightly through the windshield, illuminating us from our chest to our knees.

Barry was pushing Candy's legs apart thanks to my having removed the panties for him. Her right leg flopped onto the floor. He took her left and placed it on the top of the seat behind him. She presented him a full open beaver, and Barry was having a ball, pulling, pinching, twisting, and fingering her cunt. I said, "Honey, I wasn't thinking about helping anyone. I wasn't thinking period, I guess."

"No kidding. At least if I had my panties on my feet, he couldn't get my legs apart like this. Thanks to you, he can do whatever he wants. Are you going to help him get my dress off too?"

I could tell she wanted to put the blame on me, and I was all too willing to accept the blame if that made things easier for her. I said, "I'm sorry, Candy. You're right; offering up your vagina should have been your decision. I really will stay out of this from now on. I swear. I'm not here."

Candy said to Barry, "I'm not getting naked, Barry. Don't even try. Be satisfied with what my mom gave you."

Barry had two fingers fucking her cunt when he said, "Every girl gets naked on a date, Candy. It's customary to show a guy what you have to offer. If the guy likes what he sees, he shows what he has. If they both like what they see, feel, touch, taste and smell, they get it on. If they really hit it off, they go steady, then get engaged, then get married. Isn't that right, Mrs. Benning?"

"I am not here. I mean that."

"Come on, Candy. Get naked."

"Why? I've got nothing to offer... not here, anyway."

"Okay, so it's not an offer. Take off your clothes because I really, really crave to see all of you again. Candy, I think you have the sexiest body in the world. I dream about it. I think about it every waking minute. It's all I ever think about. I've had gallons of water drip in my face while looking up at your cunt. Don't leave me hanging with half a dream. I deserve to see it all up close."

"You're not going to stop, are you?"

"No, never. I can't stop. I've gone too far to stop. If I can't stop with your mother right here beside me, when could I ever?"

"See what you started, Mom."

"I know. I'm so sorry, but Barry's right. You can't leave him hanging like this. Two wrongs don't make a right."

"Well, I guess I better take my clothes off then."

Barry said, "Sit up. I'll help."

Candy's dress slipped over her head, leaving her in her bra. Barry removed the bra and even removed her high heels. "Damn, this is one fine pussy. I like the shave. It's so smooth and you can see everything."

"Don't you like my breasts?"

"Everybody agrees that your tits are the best in the state. These are great titties."

Barry played with her tits, then went back to her cunt. He fingered her hole. I'd been watching his bulge grow from the time I pressed my fingers to his balls. Barry had an impressive lump, but I was dying to see his naked cock. He went right for the belt and had his turgid manhood out in full, pulsing, glory before our eyes.

God damn that was a gorgeous cock. He had at least eight inches to offer, and that was slightly better than I was not getting. I wanted that cock for myself, but I remembered why we were there. He needed to seduce Candy without my help. I had interfered enough as it was.

Barry removed all of his clothes, then sat between us, displaying his cock proudly. When I didn't comment on it or reach out and fondle it, Barry looked disappointed. I think he had hopes of a mother/daughter bang. I did, too, but I caught myself in time. Barry turned his attentions back to Candy, who was sitting up with her legs folded under her, watching him stroke his cock. Barry said, "Well, do you like my cock?"

"I guess. I've never seen one... a real one. I've seen baby ones, but they don't count. It sure is big."

"Here, put your hand on it. No, wrap your fingers around it. Yeah, like that. Now pump. Yeah, that's it."

"The skin slides."

"That makes fucking easier. See that stuff leaking out. That's not piss, that's precum. Feel it. It's super slippery."

"You're right. It's like sewing machine oil."

"That will help lubricate your pussy when we fuck."

"You seem to think we're going to go all the way. I only agreed to get naked."

Barry pulled her close and gave her a passionate kiss. Candy's hand kept pumping his cock. She was melting in his mouth, but her hand wasn't about to release that prize. Barry had one hand working her pussy and another on her tits. Candy was a goner in seconds and allowed herself to be moved so that he stood on the floorboard hovering over her with her legs wide.

He moved her to the center of the seat, beside me. I'm sure he did this for my benefit, because I only had to look down to see the penetration. The trouble was, he blocked the moonlight. I wasn't about to miss this, so I flipped on the interior light, and there was that glorious pussy, open to receive that magnificent cock.

He pulled her ass to the edge of the seat and pressed her knees out flat. Her left knee was actually pinned between my lap and the steering wheel. He positioned her in perfect position for a fuck, all the while, maintaining that kiss. He was good. She broke the kiss when he took his cock and forced it down to aim at her hole.

She removed her hand from his cock and used both hands to push against his hip bones. She struggled to get up, but I applied slight upward pressure to keep her leg trapped under the wheel. Barry used his free hand to press her right knee down. She was pinned like a bug.

She said, "Barry, no!" Barry pushed forward. "Barry, don't. I'm not ready for that." His cockhead pressed to her hole. "I mean it, Barry. Don't push any more." The head squeezed in. "Barry, just be satisfied with the head inside. I don't want to go all the way." Barry kept pumping and the cock inched its way in by fractions until he encountered her hymen.

"Ouch, that hurts. Barry, you're hurting me. Barry. Mom, make him stop. Mom! Mother! Uggggh! Ow, ugh...oh, oh...oh...Oh Barry." They were fucking, or do you need a real picture?

Barry screwed her like that until all signs of resistance were gone, then placed her in a variety of positions, all designed to show off to me. He sat beside me and had her mount him facing forwards, then backwards. He screwed her doggie style while she hung out my window. That was bizarre, watching my daughter getting fucked right in my face. It was right in my face, too. Her ass kept bumping my chin and his hip bone hit behind my ear. That was my fault, though. I shouldn't have tried to look so closely.

Barry had Candy roll to her back, hanging out the window so he could offer me the front view. I had to help support her because the window frame dug into her back. So there I was, literally holding her up for the fucking. The view was worth it, especially when he placed her right leg around my head. I could have pursed my lips and they would have rode along on the shaft of his dick as it sawed in and out of Candy's twat. That's up close and personal, friends. I couldn't resist giving his cock a lick or two-hundred. I licked his dick whenever I knew Candy wasn't looking. The aroma and taste of fuck filled my brain.