Chapter 3

Henry gripped the steering wheel and thought--for the hundredth time--about what he wanted to say.

"Aly... ," he said at last.

She sent her text message, snapped her phone shut, and looked at him expectantly.

"Aly," he began again, "we need to talk."

"Oh," she mocked, "this sounds serious."

"It is."

"It's about this morning, isn't it?" He started to respond, but she cut him off. "Why are you so uptight about it, Dad? We're both consenting adults."

"It's still wrong," he said.

"Why?"

"It just is."

"But why? Why is it 'wrong' to have sex with someone who loves you?"

"Because you're my daughter, that's why."

"So?"

"It's incest, Alyson. And it's wrong."

"Interracial marriage used to be 'wrong, '" she said. "In the Fifties."

"This is different."

"How?"

"It just is," he said stubbornly.

"That's the best you can come up with?" she said. "'It just is'?" She huffed. "C'mon, Dad, you're smarter than that."

He didn't rise to her baiting.

"It's only 'wrong' if you say it is. But what's wrong about it?"

He didn't have a good answer, so he kept his mouth shut.

"In the first place, you can't get me pregnant, so we don't have to worry about birth defects."

"That's not the only thing to worry about," he said obstinately. She wasn't going to win the argument simply because he'd had a vasectomy.

She ignored his objection. "In the second place," she continued, "I'm totally legal, so you don't have to worry about statutory rape. In the third place, you're not taking advantage of me. I'm a grown woman. I can decide for myself who I want to sleep with. And finally, I wasn't planning to tell the whole world about our private lives. So we don't have to worry about some Republican DA trying to have us arrested."

"It's still wrong," he said.

"Why, Dad? Tell me why."

"It just is."

"So we're back to that again?" she said. "Didn't you teach me to think for myself? To 'use the brain God gave me'?" Her implication was obvious.

"This is different," he said. "I have thought about it, and it's wrong."

"So you've thought about us?"

He quickly backpedaled: "I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it, Dad?" She looked at him for a moment and then set her jaw defiantly. "Okay, I'll drop the whole thing... on one condition."

"What?" he asked warily.

"Can you honestly tell me that you don't wanna have sex with me?"

He looked at her and thought about lying. It would be a lie, too. He'd spent the last hundred miles daydreaming about her.

She let the silence drag out.

"It's wrong, Alyson," he said at last.

She must have sensed his crumbling resolve, because she unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned close. After a moment to let the tension mount, she put her hand on his thigh.

The contact sent a jolt of excitement through him, and his penis stirred. "Alyson," he said hoarsely, "we can't ever repeat what we did last night."

"Yes, we can."

He was acutely aware of her presence--the heat of her body, the swell of her breasts, and a dozen other things that made every fiber of his being cry out to agree.

"We can do that and more," she said. "I want to do everything with you."

Against his will, he darted a glance at her.

"Yes, everything," she said. "I want to suck you. I want you to eat me. I want to feel your cock inside me. I want to feel you come inside me."

"Aly," he croaked, "do you have to use language like that?"

"Would it sound better if I used the proper words?" she asked. Then she smirked. "I want to fellate you. I want you to perform cunnilingus on me. I want to feel your penis inside me. I want to feel you ejaculate in my vagina. Is that what you want to hear, Dad?"

He swallowed hard.

"I'll say it however you like," she said. "I'll say whatever you want, as long as you fuck me." She mocked him with a look. "Excuse me, as long as you have intercourse with me."

He glared.

"Hey, you wanted me to stop using 'language like that.'"

After a long pause, he said, "Aly, we can't..."

"Yes, we can," she whispered. "We can do it as often as we like." Her fingers slid up his leg and she brushed his trapped erection.

He wanted to pull her hand away, but he couldn't. It felt so good, so warm, so... right. He blinked in shock at the last thought and tried to clear his muddled brain. Fathers do not think of their daughters that way, he told himself sternly. Then he answered himself, But what if my daughter... ? He glanced at her.

"I want you," she said, her voice husky with desire. "Can you pull over at the next exit?"

Emotions warred within him. He felt guilty for even considering the suggestion, but he also felt a thrill of excitement. Her arguments had begun to make sense. She couldn't get pregnant, and she was a grown woman, able to make decisions for herself. Incest was probably illegal, but he had plenty of experience skirting the technicalities of the law. Besides, they weren't likely to tell anyone what they'd done.

Still, he felt a moment of guilt at the thought of having sex with his own daughter. He told himself that he was being irrational. He wanted to have sex with her, and she'd made some persuasive arguments. What could it hurt?

He made his decision.

When Aly saw his expression change, she made a sound of triumph. With practiced ease, she unfastened his chinos and extracted his hard-on. She stroked him gently. Her hand was warm and soft. With her free hand, she managed to pull off her panties. The scent of her arousal filled the truck's cab, and Henry's mouth began to water.

The next exit was a rest area, and Henry sped toward the truck and RV parking lot. The far corner was empty. Aly had her head in his lap before he even turned off the engine. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. He wanted to fuck her, but he didn't want to do it in a truck cab. Aly seemed to have the same thought, because she didn't make a move to change positions. Instead, she played with her pussy while she sucked him.

She came before he did. He felt her tense up, and she groaned around his dick. Afterward, her nostrils bathed his shaft with cool air as she panted. When she caught her breath, she began sucking again.

He didn't last long. When she felt him swell in her mouth, she began stroking him. He clamped his eyes shut as the first spurt shot like a geyser from his shaft. She moaned and kept pumping. He spurted again and saw spots behind his closed eyes.

He eventually came to his senses and looked around, to make sure no one had seen them. The parking lot was just as it had been before. He stroked Aly's hair as he caught his breath.

She sucked him until he grew too soft. Then she sat up and wiped the corners of her mouth. She grinned. Her face was flushed and her hair had come undone, but she looked beautiful. She closed her eyes and moistened her lips, tasting him.

"Mmm," she breathed. "I like it when you come in my mouth." She opened her eyes, and they flashed with an intensity that almost scared him. "I can't wait to feel you come inside me."

He forced a smile and tried to suppress a wave of guilt. He wasn't successful, but the thought of fucking her was enough to run roughshod over any objections he might have left.

Henry turned into his driveway and pulled around the circle. He stretched the kinks from his muscles as he walked to the front door. Inside, the housekeeper emerged at the sound of the security system beep. She pulled up short when she saw him. Then she smiled, friendly but deferential. When she looked past him, her smile turned into genuine affection.

"Oh, Miss Aly, you home!"

"It's good to be home, Marisela," Aly said as they hugged.

Marisela clucked and eyed the girl critically. "You still so thin. They no feed you in Virginia?"

"Of course they do, Marisela, but I want to look good for men."

"Men? Is that why you no eat? Miss Aly, men no want skin and bones..."

Henry left the two women talking and headed toward his office suite. The majority of the house was Leanne's to decorate (and redecorate) as she saw fit, but the west wing was his private domain. It had been designed as a music studio--the idiot movie star had delusions of being a rock star, too--but Henry had it gutted when he bought the place.

He'd kept the studio's original soundproofing, but little else. Rich wood paneling and thick Persian carpets replaced the garish colors and cheesy shag carpeting. Leather couches and chairs supplanted the Seventies furniture. And the sound equipment was in a real recording studio in the Valley.

Now, the suite was wired with everything a modern executive needed, from phones to broadband to satellite TV. It also had the sophisticated security system, of course, with its cabinet of monitors and digital video recorders. It even had a full bath and kitchenette. Last but not least, it had a small bedroom, where Henry could spend the night when he worked late.

The suite had only one entrance, through the media room. Henry usually left the door open when he was working at home, but he kept it locked the rest of the time. Marisela had her own entry code, but she only entered to clean. Leanne didn't have a code, and Henry had made it clear to Marisela that he'd fire her if she ever gave her code to Leanne.

At the thought, Henry grinned. Marisela didn't like Leanne--the housekeeper knew about Leanne's affairs--so he wasn't worried about the code. Leanne had wanted to fire Marisela at least a dozen times over the past years, but Henry had put his foot down. It was his house, and he paid the bills. Leanne had gotten used to the situation, but she still resented it. Henry didn't care anymore. Good housekeepers were hard to find, especially loyal ones, so Marisela would always have a job with Henry.

He punched his code into the keypad and entered the office suite. He checked his computer and then opened the security system cabinet. Aly and Marisela were still talking in the foyer. He watched them for a moment and then smiled. Aly had her mother's beauty, but nothing of her personality, thank God.

For a moment he wondered if he would've been as attracted to Aly if she were more like Leanne or Kacy. Somehow, he doubted it. He'd learned a lot since the pure lust of his early marriage. Leanne might be sexy and attractive--both then and now--but she was also a scheming, manipulative, unfaithful, shallow...

He balled his fists and willed himself to relax. Aly was none of those things. She might look like Leanne, but the similarities ended there. He watched Aly for a moment longer. His eyes were drawn to her breasts, braless under her tight T-shirt. She was too thin, but if she filled out like Leanne had... He smiled and shook off a fantasy.

Aly and Marisela were still talking when he returned to the foyer.

"Are we ready to unload?" he prompted.

"Sure," Aly said.

"You want dinner for when you done, Mr. Henry?" Marisela asked.

"Please. How about your famous pork empanadas?"

She frowned.

Aly gave him a hard look. "And what about your cholesterol?"

Marisela said, "I try to take good care of him, Miss Aly, but..." She shrugged helplessly.

"I thought we were on vacation?" Henry protested.

Aly's eyes flashed, and she smirked. "All right. Since tonight is special..."

He felt his face flush. Fortunately, Marisela couldn't know what Aly really meant.

"Okay, Mr. Henry," the housekeeper said, "I make you empanadas."

Henry rolled his eyes at Aly's audacity. "Come on," he said.

It took them an hour to unload the truck. Most of her things went to her bedroom, and she piled the rest in the upstairs rec room.

"Do we have time to get cleaned up before dinner?" Henry called to Marisela when they finished.

A mouth-watering aroma followed her out of the kitchen. "Thirty minutes," she said.

Henry nodded. Upstairs, he left his clothes in a trail on the bathroom floor. The hot shower stung his shoulders, but he simply stood under it for a minute or two. Then he heard the bathroom door open. For a moment he felt an irrational fear that Leanne had returned early. She was supposed to be in San Diego with Kacy, but...

Aly opened the steam-clouded shower door.

A wave of desire washed over him, but then he felt another stab of fear: what if Marisela came upstairs? He relaxed almost immediately. First, Marisela was busy in the kitchen. Second, she never came into the bedroom when he or Leanne were there.

Aly drew his mind back to the present. "I thought I'd join you," she said. She shut the door behind her and squirted soap in her palm. As she lathered his chest, he watched her steam-slick breasts move. His penis jerked and began to stiffen.

She teased him with a surprised look. "Is that for me?"

She ran soap-slick hands over his shaft and then washed his testicles. By the time she returned to his dick, he was completely hard. She stroked him for a moment, her eyes riveted to his erection. Then she gazed up at him. She closed her eyes and parted her lips. With a soapy hand, she drew him down for a kiss.

At first, he rebelled against the intimacy. A kiss was so... personal. But then he silently laughed at himself. He was willing to have sex with his own daughter, but he balked at a kiss? Instead of pushing her away, he pulled her closer. Her slippery body felt oh-so-good against his.

When she finally broke the kiss, she whispered, "I can't wait to fuck you."

She squeezed his dick. Then she gently pushed him under the steaming shower and rinsed the soap from his body. When she was done, she pulled his hands to her breasts. Her nipples grew stiff as he tweaked them.

"Oh, that's nice," she said. "I like your hands on me." She closed her eyes and stroked his erection. They stood like that for almost a minute. "Do you want to wash me?" she said at last.

He smiled in reply. She squirted soap into his hand, and he began to lather her. Her skin felt young and smooth, and he reeled with another wave of arousal. Aly turned and pressed her ass against his hard-on. She looked over her shoulder and bit her lip, playing the seductive vixen.

"Do you want to fuck me here?" she said.

He almost snorted at her audacity. Then he felt a moment of uncertainty. A blowjob was one thing, but sex was another thing entirely. Could he actually go through with it? He wanted to, but still...

Aly sensed his hesitation. "Don't worry, Dad," she said, "we have all the time in the world. Mom won't be home till Wednesday, right?"

He nodded.

"So that gives us two days."

He nodded again.

"You can give Marisela a couple of days off, and we can do whatever we want." She waggled her eyebrows. "I have some totally hot fantasies about where I want to do it."

He didn't argue--not with her nubile body pressed against him. He felt a flicker of guilt at what he wanted to do, but he quickly suppressed it. He'd already made his decision, and he was willing to live with it. Incest might be worse than adultery, but Leanne had broken their wedding vows long ago. He had a lot of catching up to do.

Aly sensed his distraction. "Come on," she said, "Marisela should have dinner about ready." She turned off the water and opened the shower door. Steam billowed out as she reached for the towels.

Henry watched Aly dry herself, and his erection returned. She reached for him with a grin. He closed his eyes as she began sucking him. She pulled back after only a minute. Her eyes sparkled.

"Later," she said. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. Then she giggled and dropped her towel.

He watched her bare ass as she sauntered from the room. When she was gone, he stared into space, reliving the last few minutes. Eventually, he turned away and blinked to clear his head. His erection softened as he shaved, so he donned a loose warm-up suit and headed downstairs.

He found Aly in the kitchen. She was bent over the island, speaking Spanish with Marisela. The housekeeper stood at the stove, with her back to the room. Aly looked over her shoulder when she heard him. Her eyes flashed and she casually lifted her skirt. She wasn't wearing panties.

Henry let his gaze roam over her narrow hips and smooth ass, but his eyes were drawn to her pussy. She reached between her legs and ran a finger along her slit. He was hard in an instant, and he regretted wearing something so loose that it showed.

"Almost ready, Mr. Henry," Marisela said over her shoulder.

Aly grinned at him and then returned to her conversation with the housekeeper. Henry spoke a few words of Spanish, but he couldn't follow their conversation. Besides, he was distracted by Aly--her pussy flashed pink as she spread her moisture.

"Okay, ready," Marisela said at last, startling Henry out of his erotic stupor.