Chapter 2

For the next two days I had not chanced upon another occasion to watch him masturbate that most perfect organ yet the vision of it consumed me. I do not know for sure if father's cock was really that much more formidable-looking than the couple boys from school that I submitted a simple hand job to. Whether it was because it was dad's cock, or because it truly was much larger than any I had seen or imagined, I can not say why it took over my thoughts so.

I also found myself entranced by something I had never seen before and never pictured my father having. Foreskin! I found my eyes drawn to the long, rubbery, snout like tube of wrinkled, veiny skin that seemed to extend the length of my thumb over the plum sized glans when he softened. I was enraptured by the animalistic look of his weapon. Yes, I did begin to think of his sex assemblage as a weapon, a god, a totem, an object to be worshiped.

Despite the relationship my parents had we still gathered as a family for dinners and they became increasingly difficult for me now that I had mentally submitted my body and soul to him. My brother Michael was lost in his own world. Oddly enough, it seemed he had no interest in any of the girls his age either. Goodness knows I have caught him more then once eyeing up the mom types at social events, but he was not my concern. It was mom I was worried about.

At times I could swear that she had known I watched her husband, my own daddy, jacking off! I know this was untrue and in reality I was probably wishing she knew. In fact I was wishing that she thought he had exposed himself to me purposely and I was on a course to make him mine. I wanted mother to know that soon he would finally receive the proper respect a man like him deserved and truth be known, I would do anything to make him forget she was anything but a receptacle to have brought me forth for him.

Dad too looked at me differently at mealtime. At least in my own fantasy filled mind. I thought his beautiful eyes were looking at me as something more than his little girl. The idea that he knew I was watching him flitted through my carnal thoughts. I went so far as to look back into his eyes while actually trying to convey that I thought, hoped, dreamed that he was thinking of me the day my world changed for the better.

I had made up my mind that if he would take me as a lover I stood a better chance if I initiated the event. Somehow I would have to convey that I was prepared and willing to devote myself to him and for him. I never once thought that dad was a prude, far from it actually. In my mind I just figured that he would be far more willing to enter into this beautiful sin if I made known my cravings. In my perfect world once that first illicit contact was made he would take charge of me and teach me how to be the woman he should have. The second evening after what I call 'O' Day, O for obsession, the day I saw his beautiful organ my hoped for plans to begin my seduction of him came about by my own mothers plans. How fitting and perfect, I thought.

We had just finished dinner and Michael was taking his turn at clearing the table and mom was going on as usual about what a wonderful job he was doing. It was as if dad or I did a half-assed job of it. Yet when I thought deeper it seemed to me that looking back over the past year she often said things hinting that Michael excelled over his father in some respects. Perhaps it was what she was trying to get across or felt or perhaps it was just me reading too far into things. More needless proof that my father did not get the devotion he was due. I had no idea what would happen should I succeed and she found out and I didn't care at the time. Maybe I was just hoping she would find a new boyfriend of her own and move out. Maybe I was really hoping she would move out and take my dear brother along! At any rate, what she announced was very close to my later dream.

I found myself daydreaming enviously at her wedding ring set off by her long, always perfectly manicured French nails as she toyed with her wineglass. I wondered how it would look on my finger instead. She began to speak to no one in particular, and I looked up at her and her still beautiful face. Again I realised that if not for dad not getting any from mom my chances were slim. I mean, don't get me wrong. I have known for years that I was blessed with both mom and dad's beauty but mom is still model material even years after she had quit that career. People say I look a lot like mom would have, had she taken gymnastics and cheerleading for years.

Where mom's bare tummy has a finely silken haired womanly swell, mine is sculpted. Her legs are long, shapely and defined. Mine are long, shapely and toned to hardness. I'm getting beside myself. She made a comment about driving out to see her younger sister this weekend, and that Michael being the good son he is, was going along. I would be relieved of that onerous duty due to cheerleading practice, and was lucky that dad had a short business meeting that Saturday morning that could not be missed. Perfect! Alone with father all day Saturday and Sunday morning at least plus a reason somehow, even if I had to make one up, to show dad my routine. Alone. In private.

And perhaps a swim together in the pool...

Michael finally excused himself to go to his room to study. I envisioned him studying some lingerie models and jerking out a load. No doubt some older MILFs as well, knowing his tastes, I added. My parents made some polite small talk about the coming weekend and I could tell that both were secretly looking forward to be rid of each other for a while.

Knowing mother would retire to her grand bedroom soon and dad would go work out, I took my leave and went into the lounge room to watch TV and make a few calls to the girls. I should explain or try and convey an image of our home now and again so you have an idea of the lifestyle we are blessed with all due to my father, and in some respects my mom's very limited early modelling income. As you know my parent's bedroom is immense. In fact it would easily be a small home for many. Dad had moved into a guest suite and rarely enters the room of their marriage bed any more. But that's fine by me. He has his own bed. The bed I hope to begin serving him on.

He does go in on occasion when mother is gone to use the luxurious bathing facilities, and that is where I saw him masturbating that glorious stalk of gristle and hot flesh. The lounge room is where we watch TV mostly, on a screen the size of some billboards it seems. Dad had the surround system installed as well, and naturally there are only a few very choice seats to get the best effect. Knowing this and knowing father would come in here after his work-out, I strategically parked myself beside his favourite spot.