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Charles has to remind Diana why she belongs to him.

Ben puffed with the exertion. She slid her hands along his back and pushed his head down until she could kiss his lips. It seemed odd to her to kiss her father, as a lover, for the first time, after he had already fucked her and was in her again. Odd, and yet, so natural. She pushed her tongue through his lips and teased him as he pounded her pussy harder and faster.

Her moment was approaching again. She felt the first shudder and broke their kiss. "AYYYEEEE! DAD! Oh God! DAAAAAD!" She screamed, thrashing under his weight as the train hurtled on its tracks and overran her.

"AAARRRGGHH!" Ben cried, blasting his elixir into her tunnel. "Yeah, Baby! DAD's right HEEEERRE!" He fell against his daughter and pulled her face to his, passionately devouring her mouth while his dick flexed and finished sending his best into her nest.

"Ooooohhhh," Sally exhaled a satisfied sigh and drug her fingers through Ben's close-cropped hair, trailing them down his neck and spreading across his scapulae. A flood of excruciating relief washed through her ravaged body. "Dad," she asked, in a small voice, "Will it... always be like this?"

Ben smiled and kissed her lightly. "No, Sugar Beet, not always." He touched her nose with his finger. "This was your first time. That can never happen again." He saw the disappointment in her eyes and hurried on, "But it may be even BETTER." He laughed softly. "Practice makes perfect, you know. Would you like your old Dad to help you practice? I would be happy to, you know, anytime."

"Um, I guess, yes," Sally answered. "But we mustn't tell Mom."

"No, we mustn't tell ANY one," Ben underscored.

Sally shivered and shook her memory from her mind, returning to find herself standing at the kitchen sink, staring through her daffodil curtains. She could not as easily shake the wetness from her pregnant pussy, however. "Well, I never told Mom and I'm sure not going to tell Claude. If Carla can go to the grave with a secret, so can I." She touched herself beneath her quilted housecoat. "Oh, Daddy! Oh, Claude! Come home to me!"


Sally was showered, refreshed and dressed in a pair of comfortable, stretchy, loose legged green polyester Bermuda shorts. She wore a white pima cotton blouson top with daisy petal lace cut-outs along its scooped peasant neck and the hems of its short puffed sleeves. She idly wiggled her bare toes in her house scuffs as she sat at the yellow Formica and chrome kitchen table looking at paint and wallpaper samples in a loose-leaf binder from Sherwin-Williams. The doorbell rang. She looked at the wall clock and noted it was just past 3 o'clock. "Wonder who that is?" she said aloud, scooting her chair back and heading for the front door.

Who it was, was Keanna Harris, Sally's 30-year old friend and neighbor, from across the street, who had been so thoughtful during the days immediately following Carla's passing. Her casseroles and salads were well appreciated by Sally, Claude and Nel. Keanna was a lovely, tall, African-American former fashion model who had retired from the runway and taken up the quieter suburban Rocky Mountain life. She augmented her substantial savings, which had been, and remained, well invested, by giving in-home cosmetics and fashion shows for private clientele more interested in discretion and high quality than price. She stood ruler-straight on 3" high heels, pushing her normal 5'10" height above the six-foot mark. Her fashionable cream sharkskin suit jacket and knee-length pencil skirt set off the warm cocoa tones of her flawless face and slender hands. Anyone with eyes would notice her 34C-24-34 figure, despite the modest cut of her clothes and her understated poise.

"Hey, girl," Keanna casually greeted Sally, as the front door opened. Sally did not recognize the tall, athletic looking, young man beside her friend. "You said you were 'batching it' for the long weekend... You want to grab a pizza with me and Derek tonight and/or do something fun?" Keanna asked. Her bright pearly teeth flashed as she smiled.

Sally tilted her head quizzically, loo

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