Chapter 2

"Did you remember your passport?"

"Yes. It's right here in my purse."

"What about money. You should always carry some, just in case

something comes up."

"In here too."

"What about--"

"Lisa! Will you stop fussing over me. As much as it might surprise you to know, your dear mother is not really as absent-minded as you believe. I'm only going to be gone for 2 weeks. Don't make it seem like a journey to the end of the universe!" Lisa's mom exclaimed, glaring at Lisa in mock reproof.

"All right, mom" Lisa laughed, as she carried a suitcase into the car. Lisa's mother was off to her annual visit to her native country, Sweden. She went back every year, mainly because her parents lived their, and it was always a joy for them when she visited. Although the whole Sampson family had used to accompany Cathy on these summer visits, they gradually stopped. Much as Lisa loved the country of Sweden, there was nothing to do there. She and her sister Celeste used to mope around all during their stay there, and eventually the parents, noting their children's apathy, had decided to cut down on their visits. Now, the whole family went only once every 4 years, with the exception of Lisa's mother, who rejoiced in her annual visits.

"Here's the last of the them" Joe's voice called out. He appeared at the doorway, carrying an immense suitcase. "Now, Cathy, when you land, remember to call us right away. And make sure you're carrying your passport! Oh, and another thing, make sure you always have some dough around. And try not to keep it all in that purse. God knows the messed you'd wind up in if you lost it."

Lisa met her mother's eyes and they both broke into hysterical laughter, leaving Joe gazed at them in perplexity.

"Yes, yes, and yes! As I've already said to your daughter, I'm quite capable of looking after myself. My only worry is you two," Lisa's mother retorted. "How's Lisa going to survive with your cooking?" she teased. "One can stand canned food only so much."

"Now don't you worry about us, Mom," Lisa grinned. "I just happened to have picked up a few culinary skills in college, and though I'm no master chef, I can assure you that you won't come back to find us barely alive, surviving on TV dinners."

"Right, and even if Lisa's lying and can't really cook, we can always survive on delivered pizza and hamburgers." Joe rejoined, earning an exasperated look from both women. "But enough talk, we'd better get a move-on if you want to catch the plane on time," he grinned quickly, avoiding their rebuttal.

After seeing Cathy off, Joe drove home, making a detour at the supermarket to purchase some stuff that he and his daughter might need. "Food for instance," he thought wryly. Lisa had been unable to accompany them, because she had an interview for a summer job.

"It was just as well," Joe thought. It had been three weeks since the incident with his daughter's panties. After it had happened, he vowed that he would never lose his control like that. To make sure nothing like that happened again, Joe made sure that he was sexually sated whenever Lisa was about the house. That way, the sight of her beautiful figure would not arouse him to madness. Thus it was that he had taken to masturbating himself every now and then. It seemed to be working, and although he would sometimes catch himself looking at Lisa's body when she was unaware, he no longer felt any lustful rage taking over his mind and blotting out his reason.

Arriving home, Joe parked the car into the garage. Entering the house, he discovered that Lisa was still out. He wondered briefly how her interview had gone. Turning on the TV to HBO, Joe quickly deposited the groceries into the fridge. HBO was showing Masquerade, a movie starring Rob Lowe and Kim Catrall. Watching for a few minutes, Joe found himself getting turned on after viewing an arousing sex scene between Rob and Kim. Quickly turning off the television, Joe went up to his bedroom. Walking over to his nightstand, Joe opened a drawer and gazed took out his library of audio sex tapes. Popping one into a cassette, Joe took off his trousers and underwear before leaning back onto his bed. Turning up the volume near full blast, Joe closed his eyes in enjoyment as the sultry voice of a woman enter his senses. Slowly he began to stroke himself.

After fumbling for a while with the keys, Lisa finally found the right ones, and opened the door to her house. "Dad?" she yelled out. No answer. Maybe her father had stopped by somewhere after dropping Mom off. It was really too early to start worrying. Damn, she wished she had been able to go along and send her Mom off. But she had had an interview.

"A damn waste of time," she thought. The job she had been applying for was in the area of telemarketing. Imagine her shock when she found out what area of telemarketing it was. She was applying for a job as an operator in one of those 900 number sex lines. "Jesus," she recalled her embarrassment when she had been given a piece of paper from the secretary interviewing her and was told to read the passage. Assuming that it was the company's marketing spiel, she had been stunned into speechless embarrassment when her eyes had glanced across the script, picking up a plethora of four-letter words and sexual phrases. Mumbling something about a mistake, Lisa had quickly rushed the hell out of the office, mindful of the stares and turning of heads as she had rushed out of the building.

"Boy, I really need a stress reliever, Lisa thought now, as she went up to her room, intent on another session with Mr. Jacuzzi. Getting her undergarments from her dresser and entering the bathroom, Lisa was just about to lock the door on her father's side of the room when she heard a low moaning from within. Instantly alert, Lisa tiptoed closer to the door, wondering what had caused the noise. Her father was not home. Could it be a burglar?

With as much stealth as she could muster, Lisa risked a peek into her father's room, from where the noises emanated. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the sight of her half-naked father, lying on the bed masturbating himself. No doubt about it, that was what he was doing all right. He was unaware of her, lost in whatever music he was listening to. A bit repulsed that her father should be acting in such a behavior, her eyes were nevertheless arrested by his mammothly huge cock, which he gripped in his tightly clenched fist, pumping it furiously.

Her father was HUGE! Abruptly, Lisa recalled the magazine with the picture of a man stuffing his cock into a young girl. The cock had seemed very large to her then, but her Dad's penis was even larger. Not even so much as longer but... thicker.

"My GOD, it must be about ten inches long and at least three inches wide!" she gaped in incredulity as her disbelieving eyes took in the bulky thickness of his meat.

The sudden thought that her Mom was physically capable of absorbing this monster into her vagina shocked her. "Goodness, I don't think MY pussy could even handle a dick half that size!

What am I thinking?" she blushed furiously, as the unbidden image of her father's penis entering her virgin depths arose in her mind. She was just about to quietly shut the door and lock it when her father groaned hoarsely, jerking his fist even quicker. Then spurt after spurt of great gobs of thick white liquid shot out from his penis, spraying all over the bed. With a final groan, her father dropped exhaustedly against the bed, to lay motionless, drained of

all energy.

Quietly closing the door and locking it, Lisa considered what had just happened. She had caught her own father jerking off! Her memory lingered over the huge size his cock had been. Did her mother actually take the whole of it into her body. How? Oh, she knew that a female's vagina was capable of stretching itself during periods of high sexual arousal, but even then, how could a pussy actually accommodate something of THAT dimension??

Lifting one of her legs before the full length mirror, Lisa examined at her own pussy; she measured it to be only about two inches long, from clitoris down to the other end of her labia. She slowly inserted a finger into the hole, then another. With only the joints of two finger's inside the lips of her pussy, she already felt a bit stuffed. Imagine how impaled she would be if it was all ten inches of his thick penis actually filling up her tight pussy. Pressing her 2 fingers a half inch deeper, she winced in pain as they pressed against her hymen.

"God, what am I thinking about! Trying to measure how my father's prick might actually fit into my pussy?" The thought of incest horrified her. As she knew, incest was a crime. She had heard tales of inter-relational situations that had occurred where the female partner had become pregnant. Offspring that resulted from these unnatural unions were suppose to be horribly disfigured, and mentally disabled. How could she have actually allowed the thought of her father stuffing his cock up her pussy into her mind? She blanked out the dirty vision from her thoughts as she immersed herself into the steaming tub.

When Joe awoke from his slumber, it was already dark outside. Realizing his half-naked state, he heaved himself up from the bed and grabbed a pair of pajamas from his drawer, quickly putting them on. Noises from the kitchen below alerted him that Lisa had come home. "No doubt making good on her promise to show off her cooking," he thought wryly as he climbed down the stairs.

"Hi, Dad. I was just about to call you to come down and eat," Lisa said, looking at her Dad. Her heart skipped, as she remembered what she had just seen a while ago. Quickly turning her head away before the redness that heated her face became visible, she devoted her attention to the clam chowder soup she was preparing. "Ahhh. I guess you weren't lying when you said that you could cook. This stuff smells wonderful, and I really am starved!" Joe declared, as he sat behind the table, watching his daughter as she prepared with practiced skill a meal of chicken and broccoli on the wok, a cooking item she had brought home from college.

"Of course I wasn't lying, Daddy" she cried out. "And just for thinking so horribly about me, maybe I should eat this stuff myself, and you can help yourself to yesterday's leftovers in the fridge!"

"All right, truce! You win! Your cooking's unbeatable, and I, the lowly peasant, humbly beg permission of you to partake in the tasting of such heavenly aphrodisiac as befits the gods," Joe laughed, getting out of his chair and standing behind Lisa to watch her cooking.

Unaware of her father right behind her, Lisa was just about to retort in similar fashion. Stepping backwards, she was intending to threaten him with the reality of the leftover meat loaf, while luring him with the plate of delicious food she now held in her hands. Instead, as she stepped backwards, unexpectedly backing up against his body, she gave a start, jerking the dish, which caused all the chicken and broccoli to land all over her father.

"Oh, Daddy! I'm so sorry. I..." But the sight of her father, looking at her with a shocked open-mouth expression, with broccoli all over his head, was too much." "Oh!" she started giggling, as the ridiculous picture of her father all covered in chicken and broccoli presented itself right before her eyes. The giggles turned into hysterical peals of laughter, as her whole body shook. So it was quite a surprise when she suddenly felt ketchup being sprayed all over her shirt.

"Daddy," she gasped, as the ketchup went into her face. "Why you..." immediately she grabbed the mustard jar on the counter and proceeded to squeeze it, aiming it at her father. Roaring with laughter, he ducked, as a stream of mustard sailed over his head. He gave several more squeezes of his container, catching Lisa on the chest twice. Unfortunately, that's when he realized that he was out of ammo. His container was now empty. When Lisa realized this, she grinned, advanced slowly upon her father, stalking him, as she gripped the mustard container in front of her, squeezing the stuff all over him. By now, he was all covered with mustard and broccoli pieces. She herself wasn't faring any better. Her T-shirt was drenched with ketchup. Ketchup was even on her face and hair.

Deciding that he had to get the bottle from Lisa, Joe feigned a move to the left, and then darted right, grabbing at the container. "Oh, no you don't," Lisa gritted out, as she held on tightly to the bottle. There hands wrestled over the container, as their bodies jarred together. Fighting for control of the container, Joe grasped one of her hands, as he pressed against her with his body, forcing them both onto the floor. Squeezing the container with her free hand, Lisa, spraying the mustard directly into her father's face.

"AAaargh," Joe yelled, grabbing onto her other hand. Imprisoning both her hands now, he pressed her down, her back onto the messy floor, her arms pinned to the ground, as he pressed against her.

"Say daddy!" he roared, as he pressed oppressively against his daughter, his chest crushing against hers.

As her father continued to pin her beneath him, Lisa became aware that this was no longer just an everyday food fight. She became aware of the heavy weight of her father's chest as it crushed against her own, flattening her breasts. Feeling a sense of panic, as if some danger signal was sounding off throughout her mind. She squirmed harder, writhing her body in an attempt to pull out from under him. Spreading her legs, she braced against the floor, attempting to arch against him, hoping to gain some space so she could quickly slide out from under him. The breath went out of her when her father slipped his body between her legs, slamming her to the ground.

Their position was getting really scary now, she thought, conscious of her father's pelvis pressed between her spread thighs, grinding demandingly against her hips, as he continued to manacle her hands to the ground. Abruptly she became aware of a hard bulge pressing against her pelvis, where her father was rubbing against her. With a shock, she realized the bulge that was now rubbing against her--the thing that was pressing between her thighs--was her father's erect penis. Feeling it rub against her through their thin clothing, aware that he was grinding himself against her in a rhythm, his chest flattening her breasts, Lisa really began to panic. What was going on here? What was her Daddy doing, holding her down like this?

"Daddy... please!!" she whimpered, tears beginning to well up and blur her vision as her panic rose. Again she tried to escape from under him, to no avail. Despair washed all over her. Quitting her struggle, she lay limp against the floor, tears streaming down her face as she shook uncontrollably, awaiting the inevitable.

Lisa's sobs ripped Joe from his lust-enraged trance. The harsh reality of what he was doing slammed straight home, stunning him with the full force. His mind reeling chaotically, grasping vainly for reason, Joe rolled off his daughter, groaning in anguish at the mortal sin he had committed. As he lay on the ground, his eyes closed, the sobs of his daughter besides him tore him apart.

"What have I done? My own daughter! God, Nooooo!!" tears began coursing down his face. "What kind of a beast am I? I don't deserve to live! How can I ever face my daughter again?" A sense of loss washed over him, as his body shook. Soon father and daughter were both weeping aloud, uncontrollably, their weeping carrying throughout the house.

Eventually, their sobbings subsided, and the house was left in silence, broken only by their gasps. Joe, gazing at the back of his daughter, as she lay on the ground, her body still shaking, was the first to break the silence.

"God, Lisa, please forgive me for what I have just done," he cried out brokenly, his voice shaking and tremulous. "I can't understand how I could have lost my control like that, but I promise that I'll never let it happen again. Please just say you'll forgive me," he was pleading now.

When his daughter remained unresponsive, just staring blankly at the wall, Joe's stomach wrenched painfully. It was too late. What he had done tonight could not ever be forgiven. He had forever alienated his Lisa. Any father-daughter relation between them was lost forever. He had destroyed his family. Cursing and damning himself even as his tears streamed anew, he fled the kitchen out the house.

After her father had gone, Lisa continue to lay there, her chest heaving as she continued her silent crying. She could hardly believe that her father had almost raped her. This wasn't suppose to happen to her. She lay there for a veers long time, staring listlessly at the wall. Eventually, she began to realize the messy state she was in. Slowly picking herself off the floor, her legs shaking, she began to clean up the mess. Then she went upstairs and cleaned herself off. Deciding to go to bed immediately, she barred both her doors. However, sleep would not come to her, as she lay on the bed, wondering what terrible things she had done to cause her father to act in such a manner.

When Joe got back to his house, it was 3:00 in the morning. His mind was a bit clearer now, and he was grieved by what it told him. He wondered if his actions would cause the breakup of his family. Whether there would be a divorce. As he went into his room, he wondered how he could ever make it up to his daughter.

The typewriter on his desk caught his glance and he knew. Maybe his daughter might never forgive him, but at least she might be able to understand the circumstances which had lead him to become the beast he was. Sitting before the typewriter, he began to type. He poured out his sorrows onto the paper: about Cathy and their estranged relationship, about himself, his character and person, his love for her and Celeste. He typed through the night into dawn. When he was finished, he carefully collected the tear-moistened sheets, folded them into a manilla envelope, and slipped it through her bedroom door. "She might never read this," he thought, "but it's the best apology I can make." Sighing in resignation, he went outside the house, got into his car, and drove away. He didn't know where he was headed, but he needed to get away. Away from Springdale--out of California. Even if it was only for the day.

When Lisa awoke from her slumber, it was late afternoon. Groaning, she was just crawling out from her bed when the events of the previous night flooded her thoughts. Despair washed through her. What was she going to do now? And what about her Mom? And the family?

"No," she vowed, "I can't ever tell Mom about this. It'll break her heart." She would just have to avoid her Dad from now on, so nothing like this could ever happen again. Her eyes brimmed with tears. She had trusted her Daddy so much. How could he have done this to her. But a nagging voice in her mind said "It's your fault just as well. You lured him on. You shouldn't have been wearing such skimpy clothing in front of him anyway. You're just as much to blame."

Shaking the voice away, Lisa got up from her bed. As she headed to the bathroom to wash up, the brown envelope on her doorway caught her eye. Stooping over, she picked it up, wondering what is was. The thought came suddenly that her Dad must have left it there. She fought the urge to throw it away, and opened up the envelope. It contained several sheets of typed paper, about twenty to thirty. Sitting quietly by the edge of her bed, Lisa began to read her father's story.

When she finished the last page, she let it fall onto the floor, with all the rest, as she gazed at them through the tears blinding her eyes. Her mind was filled with the totality of the immense pain and burden her father had carried alone all the years. Although she had known her mom had been deeply hurt when she had found out that she could no longer bear children, Lisa had not understood the full extent of her grief; nor had she realized the severe repercussions that resulted between her parents as consequence. In retrospect, she now saw hints that all had not been well between her parents. In fact, since she had come home from college, she now realized that she had not seen her parents carry on in an intimate manner. There had been no warm embraces or constant cuddling, as they had used to do. In fact, there manner had seemed distant--not hostile or anything like that--just aloof, as if they didn't really care about each other. And there was the thing about both of them having separate sleeping quarters. Lisa cursed herself for having been so blind.

With the realization of all that had transpired, Lisa felt empathy for her father. He couldn't really be blamed for what had happened. "After being imprisoned in a loveless relationship for several years, he could not really be faulted merely because he found his daughter physically attractive and reacted accordingly," she realized. Another realization came to mind, one which her father had not mentioned in the letter. "Dad must have been abstinent all these years! Even through all his pain, he stayed alongside his wife, refusing to have an affair." She was once again reminded of the immense burden her father had borne these past years. Promising herself to talk with her father later on tonight, she turned to the day's work. Even though her heart was still troubled, she was relieved that there had been a just reason for her father's behavior last night.

When Joe got to his house, it was eight o'clock at night. He had driven aimlessly all day on the state highways. He found that it usually helped him when he was severely troubled. But now, as he stood outside the door to his home, he wondered. Had all he been doing was trying to run away from his fears? As he stared at the door to his house, he fought the sudden desire to flee. What if his daughter was inside. What would he say? Did she even read his letter? Maybe she had just burnt it, without even looking at it. However, reason took over. "I'm going to have to face the consequences of what I've started," he thought grimly. After a slight hesitation, he steeled himself, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

He heard noises from the kitchen--the sound of the television set. Cautiously, he stepped toward the kitchen. Lisa was inside hovering over the stove. Wanting to avoid any confrontation of any sort, he turned toward the stairs to go to his room.

Joe's movement alerted Lisa of his presence. Steadying herself, she called out as casually as she could "Daddy, the dinner's almost prepared. Don't be too long."

Hearing his daughter talking to him was the last thing Joe had expected. With a muffled "sure, I'm coming down soon," he continued up the stairs. His mind was whirling in confusion. The last thing he had magined was that his daughter would sound so casual, as if last night had never happened. Then it hit him. Maybe she intended to forget about it, to wipe last night from her memory, as if it had never happened. Groaning inwardly, Joe cursed himself for the thousandth time. Much as he hated it, he would have to discuss it with Lisa. He was aware of the potential destructive capability of individuals who kept their fears and pains bottled up inside. He loved his daughter, and could not stand for her to ruin her life in this manner. Though she might never forgive him, he would at least know that he had done the best he could to redress his sins. Bracing himself for the worst, he headed downstairs.