A Devil's Wage Ch. 03

A Devil's Wage Ch. 03

A DEVIL'S WAGE - CHAPTER THREE

This is an attempt at a continuation of Cindy'sBob's fine story "A Devil's Wage. His writing is much better than mine and I strongly urge you to read it to understand my starting point. I love the characters, and the deft way in which he takes ordinary people and puts them into intense sexual situations that they have never experienced. He has said he never writes second chapters, although I wish he would, and has given me permission to try to expand on the experiences of Frank and Ellen.

I write for my own amusement and, generally, stuff that turns me on, usually people descending into depravity. I would love to include a shortcut to the story here, but my technological expertise is too limited to accomplish this.

I have left this in "Non-Consent" because that is where the original appeared. You are warned that before I get tired of these characters, if ever, they will have experienced cuckoldry, wife sharing, BDSM, corporal punishment, sexual humiliation, incest, male-male sex, lesbian sex, exhibitionism, and any other depraved sexual activity that I can work in. If you don't like these things, I advise you not to read this. I will also caution those people who comment only to point out that this isn't the way things happen, women don't really like being treated that way, what you suggested there is impossible, etc. etc. that this all takes place in my world where such things do happen, in fact they happen exactly the way that I describe them as happening. So, save your breath. If you feel compelled to comment that the fictional characters here will all end up having their lives ruined, their children drug addicts, their city scourged by fire and brimstone and that I am obviously a closet homosexual with mother issues, a nymphomaniac wife that I cannot satisfy and will eventually descend into abject misery because of my moral failings, I can only say: Yes, you're probably right on all counts, what's your point?

This might make more sense if you read Chapter 2! I hope some of you enjoy this, and I apologize for this taking so long. Life intervened:

I looked briefly back at the windows to ensure nobody was looking out and dropped to my knees. I fully intended to do what he'd asked for, quickly kiss the tip of his dick. As soon as my lips encountered the smooth surface of his glans, however, I found myself taking the whole head of his cock in my mouth and sucking it while slavering my tongue over it, still tasting the residue of the cum and cunt juice that I had cleaned off it before. I don't know how long I sucked his cock.

Time seemed to stand still but, eventually he said, "That's enough." and gently pushed me away. He put his cock away and I stood up, wiping saliva off my chin. Glancing at my tented pants he smirked, slightly, "Looking forward to seeing you guys again," he said and stepping into his car he closed the door, backed into the street, and drove off, giving the horn a little "beep", like you'd do if you were driving away from your family after having dinner with them. I stood there for a minute, reliving the whole evening, and wondering how we got on this track and then turned and walked into the house.

When I re-entered the house the three women were around the kitchen table, eating ice cream and listening to Brittany run on about how cool Mr. Conti was. Ellen and Brittany were seated across from each other, and Amy was standing beside the table, holding her bowl in her hand, and spooning the ice cream into her mouth. When I walked in Ellen turned towards me, Brittany went on babbling, ignoring me completely, and Amy turned her head to regard me with an enigmatic expression on her face. "What more did you and Mr. Conti have to talk about?" she asked raising her eyebrows.

I stared dumbly, I'm sure, at her for a tick or two and then said, "Oh, he has some business deal that he's all buzzed about and thought one more try would get me to agree to it. Nothing really."

"Mmm-hmm," she said, and turned her attention back to the ice cream. It flashed through my mind whether any of them had noticed my wildly rampant cock. I decided to slide my hand into my pants pocket as though checking for my keys, thus somewhat screening my throbbing erection. I looked at Ellen and saw that her eyes were scanning the front of my pants and had probably seen the evidence of my arousal.

"Time for bed, girls," she announced. "Please put your bowls in the sink and rinse them out, and then get moving, school tomorrow, you know."

They did as she asked and then came to me to give me a "Good Night" peck on the cheek on their way upstairs. Brittany was first and gave me an absent-minded peck and walked to the stairs still in dream land. Amy came to my side, said, "Good night, Daddy," and leaned close to peck my cheek. She then passed in front of me and, in doing so bumped her hip into my overly engorged cock. "Oops," she said, "Sorry, Daddy," and, flashing me a glittering smile, she continued to the staircase, my cock twitching and spasming in her wake, about one good squeeze away from coating my boxers with jizz. Inadvertent, my brain instantly assured me. But as I watched her cute little ass twitching its way away from me, I wondered exactly what was going on with my nearly legal oldest daughter.

As the girls receded up the stairs Ellen appeared at my side, practically panting. "If you don't have me upstairs and being fucked in the next thirty seconds," she said desperately, "I won't be responsible for what happens."

"My sentiments, exactly," I breathed out and we fluttered around swiftly, making sure doors were locked, kitchen secured, and everything ready for the night and then practically sprinted for the stairs.

When we arrived in our bedroom, after making sure the door was locked, we both made short work of stripping. Once naked, we dove into bed, and I grabbed her and gave her a passionate kiss. She returned it just as passionately for a moment then pulled her lips from mine and gasped, "Jesus, no foreplay needed, Frank. I'm so fucking hot I'm ready to explode and your dick preceded you into the kitchen by five minutes. Just fuck me!!"

I needed no more encouragement. I immediately pushed her onto her back and pushed her legs apart and back, so her knees were by her tits. I grabbed my rock-hard cock and stroked it up and down her dripping slit. Every time I got to the top of her cunt, I made sure to rub the tip of my cock on her clit, which was sticking out from its hood about an inch, causing her to buck her hips and moan. Her labia were seriously engorged, and her cunt was already gaping open. When I felt my cock was wet enough from her juices to not cause either of us pain, I put the head in her hole and slid forward about two inches into her.

"Oh, yes," she gasped, "More, more!"

I fucked her furiously, not concerned, I admit, with her getting off, in my mind she's had her ten orgasms for today. It was my turn! I figured I wouldn't last long, and I was right. It had only been a few thrusts when I felt the familiar tickle in my cock, and I finished in her within seconds. Spectacularly satisfying, at least for me!

I lay on her, panting for a few seconds and then slid off and out from between her legs so we could lie side by side.

"Thank you," I intoned, breathlessly, "I really needed that for the last hour or so."

"Yes, I could tell by the front of your pants," she smirked, "I could use a release too, you know."

"Might take me a bit to be ready again," I huffed.

"Well, we'll see," she said, mysteriously. "What turned you on the most?" she asked me as her hand started teasing my very sensitive cock. "Was it watching him plunge that huge cock into me? Watching me buck against him, having one orgasm after another? Or was it realizing that I'd watched you sucking his cum off his cock like a good little sissy?"

While verbalizing all this she was relentlessly manipulating, stroking, and squeezing my now rampant cock. I realized she'd made it hard again in only a few minutes by revisiting the incredibly depraved evening we'd had.

"All of it," I groaned.

"I'll tell you what got me going to start with, after stripping in front of you two with the girls upstairs," she whispered.

"What?" I croaked.

"When Tony told you to get his cock wet, and you immediately dropped to your knees and slobbered all over his big dick. Was it better than sucking on my strap-on?"

"Yes," I groaned as she continued to manipulate my cock.

"Did my watching make it even hotter for you?" she asked.

"Yes," I panted.

"It's hard enough," she suddenly barked, "Start fucking. Having said this, she turned onto her back, spread her legs, and pulled my cock towards her drooling hole.

I plunged it in her and begam pumping. It was not as fevered as our first coupling, and I knew I would last for a lot longer, which I did. Ellen had a nice orgasm and, as I got closer to my second, I started pulling hard on her nipples and that sent her over the edge again and we spent the last 45 seconds or so jamming our crotches against each other as hard as we could and then collapsed in mutual exhaustion and satisfaction.

I rolled off her and we cuddled together while our breathing slowly returned to normal.

"Well, that was quite an evening at home," Ellen breathed out at last. "Can't remember having a family night like that before. Do you think the girls suspected anything," she said as her brow furrowed.

I shrugged and looked at her. 'They certainly noticed that your bra had disappeared while they were doing their homework," I noted.

"Yeah, Brittany asked about that while you and Tony were outside," Ellen said, "I told her I'd had it on all day, and I was just tired of it and took it off in the laundry room when Mr. Conti went up to get them. Amy said something about giving Mr. Conti a show, but I just shrugged. They seemed to accept that."

The way she said that prompted something in my brain. "Was Amy at the table with you and Brit then?"

"No, she picked up her ice cream and was looking out the window for a minute and then said the remark about giving him a show as she was walking back. So, what?"

"Oh," I said, as sweat seemed to form on my forehead. I looked into Ellen's eyes, and she seemed to notice my trepidation.

"Why, what difference does that make?" she asked.

"Well, it could make a difference if she was observing me and Tony," I said with a gulp.

"Why is that?" she said raising her eyebrows.

"Well, part of the time we were out there, I was on my knees on the driveway, sucking his cock," I stammered out. "I'm not sure she could see me from the window, but I guess it depends on when she was there, and whether she went to the far side of the window from where she could see the driveway clearly."

"Why were you sucking his cock?" Ellen asked.

"Well, he told me to?" I croaked, finding it hard to look her in the eyes, suddenly.

"Hmmm," she intoned. "Do I need to worry about you leaving me for him, like you used to be worried about me?"

"Of course not," I said, somewhat flustered that she would ask that. "I guess I just slipped into a submissive role easier than I ever would have expected. Do you think she saw anything?"

Ellen shrugged. "I don't know, did she act any different? Is that why your dick was so hard when you came back inside?"

"Was it that obvious?" I asked. Ellen just nodded. "Well, when she came over to kiss me 'Good Night', she accidently bumped my cock and then said 'Oops' and gave me a shit-eating grin and sashayed away. I figured it was inadvertent, though."

Ellen raised her eyebrows even higher than before. "Well, watch her behavior towards you for the next few days, or weeks, and maybe we'll figure it out," she said with a shrug.

We both looked at each other for a few seconds and then went about our routine for getting ready for bed. When we got to bed, we kissed each other and then Ellen turned on her side and was soon asleep. I laid there, awake, for much longer, wondering what Amy had seen out the window. Disturbingly, the thought that my nearly eighteen-year-old daughter might have seen what I was doing caused me to have a restless night as I woke up quite often and would lay there thinking about it. The fear, shame, and trepidation were bad enough, but it was my rock-hard erection that would not go down that really bothered me.

Life returned, more or less, to normal after that. We were busy with Thanksgiving, always a big holiday in our family, for the next few weeks. We eventually got past that and the enormous meal that accompanied it, with both sets of grandparents, of course.

We had Thanksgiving dinner at Ellen's parents, as usual. I got along well with them both, but they always seemed a little strange to me. Her father, Tom was a tall, thin man, a professor at the local college. He was somewhat like the stereotypical absent-minded professor, always seeming to be preoccupied with something.

Her mother, Victoria (never Vickie), on the other hand, was a tall, reserved and always composed and in-charge woman. She was in her sixties but still very attractive, slender and with a formidable bust and hips. We swam in their pool every summer, most weekends, actually, and she still got my attention when she walked out in her one-piece swimsuit. She worked out religiously and her legs still had a well-formed and muscular quality, not like the skinny, old-lady legs you saw on some women her age. She ruled in their household, and had tried, early in our marriage, to become the authority in ours, also, although without much success. She ran her husband like a top sergeant with a raw recruit. They never argued, at least in my presence, mostly because he just did what he was told to do. I always expected him to bristle at some of her pre-emptory instructions, but he never did.

Then we were launched into Christmas, of course. That took up the rest of the month, followed by New Year's. It was a very pleasant period in our lives. Both girls were really into the holidays, and we had little or no teenaged angst over the entire period. We were never much for New Year's Eve. We did the same thing we'd done for several years, had both sets of grandparents over and got lobster tails which I grilled on our gas grill. This, of course, involved me running outside every few minutes to keep track of them, but Amy assisted me and, speaking as modestly as possible, they were done perfectly, and everyone involved was pleased with our gourmet repast.

I had noticed that over the holiday season, Amy seemed to gravitate towards me. She had always been a "Daddy's girl," and I had always struggled not to favor her over Brittany. Not anything major, mind you, it was just that Amy was always "my girl." I tried to pay special attention for any repeats of the "inadvertent' hip against my engorged cock on the night of the Tony Conti visit, but nothing occurred that seemed to indicate it was anything but an accident.

Ellen and I had reverted to a very vanilla sex life, not that there was anything wrong with that. We were so busy with Christmas Tree, lights on the house, buying presents, and then lobster tails and preparing for New Year's Eve that we kind of got away from Punishment Night and anything else very kinky. Occasionally we would talk about the Conti experience and whether that would ever be repeated, but, other than using it to fuel our libidos for a good night's fuck, we never really talked about any of it seriously.

In April the big event in our family was Amy's eighteenth birthday. She was still a junior in high school, due to starting kindergarten a year late since, at that time, we didn't feel she was ready. I never regretted it as she had turned out to be an excellent student and had almost all A's so far in high school. We blew it all out for her 18th as she felt this was her emergence as an "adult" and probably went overboard on presents, but it was a big deal to her, so we made it a big deal for all of us.

Around the time of Amy's birthday, Ellen said she had something to discuss with me. She waited until bedtime and closed and locked our bedroom door that night, telling me to sit on the bed and she would explain all to me. I sat down with her, wondering what was going on now.

"Well," she started out, "this may turn out to be a big nothing, but I thought I should bring you up to speed on a discussion Amy initiated with me a while ago."

"OK," I said, "what?"

"Amy came to me in late March and said she had something she wanted to bounce off me. She said that she knew she wouldn't be going to college until the year after next, but she had something she had been thinking about and wanted my opinion. She then said that she didn't want to go away to college as an innocent, too many sophisticated college men around, and she thought she should dispense with her virginity sometime in the next 16 or so months before she left."

"Whaaat? I replied, intelligently.

"Yes, that's about the way I reacted," Ellen chuckled, "but she was quite serious about it and the longer we discussed it the more determined she seemed to become that this was something she wanted taken care of. Although I wasn't able to get her to abandon the idea, I did manage to get her to see that 16 months is a long time, and she needed to consider this carefully and not impulsively do something that might impact her life in ways she wouldn't enjoy. She pretty much agreed with me and promised that she didn't have any particular boy in mind for this and that she would not launch into something on the impulse of the moment."

"Jesus," I whined, "where in the hell did that come from?"

"I don't know," Ellen said, "but let's both keep an eye on her. She has a driver's license now, you know."

"I'll watch her like a hawk." I promised, and with that we kissed each other and retired for the night.

As the calendar advanced further into April Ellen got a letter from her Aunt Ann, a favorite of hers and kind of an old maid aunt. She had been married at one time, but her husband died of heart problems only 7 or 8 years after the wedding and she had been alone ever since. She wrote asking Ellen if she could come visit her for a long weekend and bring the girls with her. It looked like there would be an opportunity around the beginning of May. There was a Friday where they had a teacher's meeting and Ellen felt both girls were doing well enough in their schoolwork to miss the beginning of the next week, returning on Wednesday night, therefore only missing 3 days of school. The school, naturally, wasn't thrilled about this, but Ellen just asserted parental authority, and pointed out that both girls had excellent grades, and they eventually agreed.

Everything seemed to be going swimmingly, until about 10 days before their departure, when one of Amy's teachers announced a super important test that would be held on Monday that she was supposed to be on the trip. For a few fevered days Ellen and Amy tag-teamed the teacher trying to come up with a way for Amy to take the test but still make the trip. Take it early? No, too much chance of the test information getting out, although Amy swore that she wouldn't divulge anything to anyone. Take it when she came back from the trip? No same reason in reverse. Take it remotely from Aunt Ann's? No, too distracting for the teacher. When all reasoning failed, we surrendered, and Ellen was forced to telephone her aunt and inform her that Amy would miss the trip. Aunt Ann took it graciously. Personally, I thought it was a tempest in a teapot. She'll see her next time, school comes first.

The night before their departure, Ellen and Brittany were running around the house furiously packing and trying to think of all the things they might need to take with them. I caught Ellen standing in the bathroom perusing the medicine cabinet with a pile of bottles and tubes in front of her that a horse couldn't have jumped over.

"Hey, Baby," I said, "you know, I don't want to go out on too much of a limb here, but I'm thinking that they probably have drug stores where Aunt Ann lives. I mean you're taking an aspirin bottle with two pills in it. Don't you think Aunt Ann might have a couple of aspirins you could borrow, you know, in an emergency.?"

She looked at me sheepishly and returned half the stuff to the cabinet, telling Brittany that they were going to give their luggage one more once over and that would be it.

The next day was Friday, Amy didn't have school, and I had arranged to take the day off, since I'd spent the previous weekend and the beginning of the week traveling and working out of town. I didn't know what Amy had planned, but I was planning on sleeping in. Ellen and Brittany were going to depart right after sunrise, so they were going to get up early. As we went to bed at a fairly early hour, Ellen apologized in advance for having to set her alarm so early.

"No problem, Sweety," I said, "I'll go right back to sleep."

When the alarm buzzed the next morning Ellen was up quickly and shut it off. I lay there, drowsing, while she and Brittany ran around the house, getting something to eat and loading up the car, running back inside a couple of times for things they thought of at the last minute. As I lay there, I felt a form bending down over me. It was Ellen, and she planted a kiss on my lips for goodbye.

"You be a good boy, now," she cautioned me. "Behave yourself until I'm back on Wednesday."

"I will, Mommy," I teased her. She picked the sheet up off me and gave me a smack on my naked ass, as I always slept nude.

"Did you say goodbye to Amy?" I asked.

"I looked in on her and she's sound asleep," she said.

"That's what I'll be a few minutes from now," I retorted. With that, and another peck on the lips, she turned and was out the door and gone. I laid there for a few minutes, heard the car pull away, and turned over into my pillow to go back to sleep. Just before I closed my eyes I glanced at the clock/radio. The red numbers read 6:52. I made a mental note that I wouldn't get up before 8:30 or 9:00 and was asleep almost before my head hit the pillow.

I slowly woke up some time later. Rolling over in bed, I glanced at the clock, which read 8:34. Stretching luxuriously, I lolled back onto my pillow and closed my eyes, luxuriating in being a slug-a-bed. I heard a sound from the door and turned over that way. The door slowly opened, and Amy stuck her head in. When she saw me waking up, she came into the room, needlessly asking, "You awake, Daddy?"

"No," I answered, "I'm still sound asleep."

Sticking her tongue out at me, she came into the room and approached the bed. She was wearing an old robe that she'd had forever, it seemed a little short on her, but I really didn't think much of it.

"Can we talk, before you get up and get busy with stuff?" she asked.

"Sure, baby," I said, "what is it?"

I was lying on the side of our king-sized bed closest to the door and she strolled over and sat down on the edge of the bed, close enough to me that I had to move my leg out of the way when she sat down. She adjusted a little and sat there with her hip touching my leg. It didn't raise any alarms with me, but I have to admit that I felt a little odd lying there naked with her sitting up against me. It occurred to me to wonder what she was wearing under that robe.

"I understand from Mom that she told you what I was, um, thinking about doing before I go away to college next year, and she said that you were quite shocked by it, and I thought maybe we should talk about it," she started out.

"Yes, Amy," I said, "I was shocked by it. I don't really see any reason for it, especially since it will be over a year before you move on to college. What's the rush? You have plenty of time to think about that, jeez, you just turned 18 a couple weeks ago."

"Well, I wanted to explain my thinking," she said.

"I'm listening."

"Well, here's what I was thinking," she said. As she said this, she turned slightly toward me, enough that the lapel of her robe flapped open a little and I got definitive proof that she wasn't wearing anything under it, at least on top. The opening in the robe revealed her left breast and nipple and I was unable to force myself to look away. I had never seen her topless, well, not since the age of ten or so, before and was somewhat surprised to notice that while she certainly didn't qualify as buxom, like Brittany did, her breast was beautifully formed and perky as only an eighteen-year-old girl can be. The biggest shock was the nipple, however. I would have expected that a rather slender and petite girl like Amy would have small and delicate nipples, just from the way her body appeared. In this case, however, her nipple appeared, at least to me to be thick, long and, the only word that popped into my mind, rather coarse looking, what you might expect in an older larger woman. My libidinous brain immediately broadcast the message to me that sucking and chewing on that thing would be very enjoyable. I was horrified that such a thought would invade my brain and quickly banished it as best I could.

I tried, mightily to maintain eye contact as she launched into her recitation, but I was unable to avoid returning my gaze to the personal attribute she was exposing to me whenever she looked away or broke eye contact with me. I managed to listen to what she was saying, but it was rather disconcerting, to say the least.

"Well, Daddy, I know you and Mom have wondered why I never have seemed to date very much. I definitely like boys, but the fact is that the group available to me, since I've known most of them since elementary school, just doesn't really offer much, at least in my opinion. Since I've known all of them for such a long time, I've managed to categorize them, and it doesn't leave me much to choose from. First there's the nerd bunch, nice guys, and I have some good friends in that group, but not anyone that really strikes me as desirable dating material. Then there's the large group in the middle who are, mostly, already dating somebody. I'm not really interested in the drama that would result from getting involved with one of them. Then there's the players, they seem to move from girl to girl and are mostly interested in getting as many notches on their bedpost as they can. Not interested in going there at all. There are a few others, but none that really interest me, nor do I interest them. My fear is that, once I go to college where the guys are all unknown quantities I'll get victimized by some slickster because of my inexperience and I'll wind up just being used by someone because I'm overwhelmed by my first experience with sex, and they'll take advantage of me, and I'll wind up dumped and miserable. Does that make any sense?"

"Jeez, Amy, I don't think you're giving yourself enough credit in being able to judge people, I think you'll find that when you get to college, you'll quickly develop your intelligence to tell the phonies from the real people. In addition, If the selection here is so bad, how're you going to pick somebody to perform this act with? You might get somebody who just wants to use you, and, just have the same whole experience here. You can't force something like this. How are you going to find somebody that you know will care about you and want to be honest with you if you're trying to force this inside some kind of artificial schedule, like you're talking about?

"I've already picked who I want to do this with, and he'll be perfect for me," she said, rather smugly, I thought.

"Who's that?" I inquired with raised eyebrows.

"It's you," she intoned solemnly.

I know that I must have done the triple-take of the century as my mind tried to process what she had said. I could feel my mouth hanging open, and was trying to say something, anything to make this moment go away or never have happened at all, but my brain was, apparently, no longer connected to my mouth and nothing came out.

"I mean, think about it for a second," she reasoned knitting her brow as she explained this to me, "who could I have sex with that I know would have nothing in mind but my happiness and would be someone that I could trust implicitly not to deceive me or use me in any way. I've always loved our relationship, Daddy, and I can't imagine anyone I would rather have guide me through this passage of life than the one person in the world that I can always count on to have my best interests at heart." She leaned towards me with a beatific smile on her lovely face and her robe pooched open even more, revealing both long (had to be 3/4 of an inch) and thick (much thicker than a pencil eraser) nipples that looked as hard and rubbery as a hockey puck and (it flashed, again, through my addled brain) just begged to be chewed on.

"I, I, we couldn't do that," I desperately bleated, "that would be incest, Amy. It's against the law, it's even in the Bible, for goodness' sake!"

"Oh, Daddy," she tutted, "I'm of age so it wouldn't be against the law. You're not that religious, and anyway, no one would ever know about it, we'd keep it a secret."

"Amy, Jesus, it's even in the Ten Commandments or something. We couldn't do that. I would never feel right about it!"

'The Ten Commandments?" she repeated, with a smirk on her face that puzzled me for a moment. "I wonder what the Ten Commandments would say about a man who sits and watches his wife strip for another man, then positions her on his dining room table, gets both her vagina and the other man's penis wet, using his mouth, and then holds her legs open for the man to have sex with his wife and, when they're done uses his mouth again to clean all their juices off their genitals. What about that, Daddy? How many of the Commandments did you break there? Didn't seem to stop you from doing all that for Mr. Conti that night he was here!"

After my second triple-take of century in only a few minutes, I managed to sputter, "Wha, wha, what do you mean? What do you know about that?"

"Oh, come on, Daddy. You came up to my room to check to see if I was doing my homework that night. When have you ever checked to see if I'm doing my homework? What kind of grades do I get, Daddy?"

"Straight A's." I whined.

"Right. I knew something was going on. So, when you came out of Brittany's room, I waited until you were going down the stairs and snuck down the hall and got myself in position on the stairway so I could see into the dining room."

"How much did you see," I asked, although I knew what the answer would be.

"I saw everything," she said, "from the time Mom dropped her dress. As a matter of fact, I went over to the window, while we were eating ice cream, and saw you take Mr. Conti's penis in your mouth again. When I got this idea I kind of worried that maybe you only liked men, but from the sounds that come out of the bedroom when you and Mom are going at it, I figured that your expertise goes both ways. So, how about it?

At this, she leaned forward and let the robe gape open so that not only did both breasts come completely out of the robe, but I could see past her incredibly flat tummy all the way down to where her fleecy, blond pubic hair started. I could not quite see her slit, but what I saw was spectacularly alluring and, even though she was my daughter, for God's sake, the desire to suck on her nipples and chew on them until she begged me to stop was so overwhelming that I'm surprised I didn't attack her at that moment.

"Amy, Jesus, we can't do this," I bleated, but she was way ahead of me. Shucking the robe in one swift movement so that she was completely (and I might add, deliciously) naked, she flicked the sheet off me to reveal that I was naked myself, and that my cock was hard enough to drive ten-penny nails with.

Looking me up and down, she shrieked, "Oh, my God, Daddy, it's beautiful," meaning, I assumed, my dick, and launched herself onto me, smashing her lips against mine in a decidedly undaughterly kind of kiss, snaking her delicious little tongue into my mouth where it immediately began dueling with my tongue, and rubbing her body up and down on mine which revealed several disturbing, but, at the same time, wonderful things to me. In the first place, she was much stronger than I would have suspected. Amy had done gymnastics in middle school and had started playing volleyball, as a setter, naturally, in high school, and when she grasped me in her arms and began kissing me, I found it impossible, without just slugging her in the jaw, (which I didn't want to do), to dislodge her. Secondly, as she rubbed her body on mine those large, rubbery nipples made delicious contact with my own and my dick got even harder, as she rubbed them up and down my torso. Thirdly, her motions on me were also causing her cunt to rub up and down across my cock. The resulting feeling was heavenly! I have done that before, with her mother, and while familiarly rapturous there was something different about this experience. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, and after trying, unsuccessfully to figure it out, I pushed her off me enough to allow my eyes to run down our bodies. And, thus, I experienced yet another triple-take. As I looked down past her incredible tits and flat little tummy, I found myself gaping in wonderment. It wasn't, no it couldn't be, but it had, no that's impossible, how can??? And, finally, my mind formed a coherent question? Could all that, actually, be her clit??

Because yes, among her many other alluring and incredibly sexy attributes, Amy, my little Amy, archetypal "Sweet Girl Next Door", possessed the biggest, fattest clit I've ever seen.

I have, for a 6-foot, 190-pound man, relatively small hands. Her clit was easily an inch and a half or so long and as big around as the tip of my pinky finger. I had thought I wanted to suck and chew on her nipples. That clit was calling me like a homing beacon!

At this point she ceased to be my daughter, little Amy, my favorite, and, instead, became a nubile young thing that my cock wanted more than anything on this earth. I pushed her over onto her back, spread her legs and pushed her knees back to her tits, and dove, tongue first, into her cunt like a parched man diving into a vat full of cold beer. It was delicious! I clamped my mouth over that beautiful cunt of hers and sucked her enormous clit into my mouth where I proceeded to mash it against the roof of my mouth, all the while sucking like I wanted to suck it off her body.

She reacted like an electric shock had been introduced into her lovely twat.

"Daddy, what, oh my God, Daddy, you can't, oh God, don't stop, don't stop!!"

I had, of course, no intention of stopping. I ate at her like a starving man. While tormenting her ginormous clit, I also pinched and pulled at her thick and rubbery nipples, hard enough that eventually all words left her, and she descended to just shrieking. I don't know how many orgasms she had, nor did I care. All I knew was I was going to suck on the clit and savage those nipples until my mouth and my fingers gave out.

I guess it was all rather mean of me. In the back of my mind, I reasoned it out that this was, after all, her idea, she wanted to see what it was like to have sex. Well, I would show her. I kept at it through several iterations of her losing and regaining speech.

At one point, when she began speaking coherently again, it was, mostly, "No, please, no more! I can't take any more! Oh, God, don't make me come again, pleeeeeeese." Needless to say, throughout this desperate pleading, I continued to torment her tender bits.

At another point, at which she was frantically imploring me, "Don't suck it any more, I can't stand any more, oh God please no more," and sudden switched to, "Yes, bite it, bite it, harder, harder!!!!" I was actually rather proud of that, in a perverse way.

At last, my mouth and fingers did give out, I guess it was, actually, only somewhere around twenty minutes, give or take, but seemed longer. At this time, I decided it was my turn. Amy was laying on her back, legs spread as I ravaged her cunt with my mouth. I detached myself from MegaClit and raised my body up to hers and rammed, yes, I admit I rammed my cock into her gaping snatch. She gasped and wailed, "Oh, Daddy, Jesus Christ," and held on for dear life as I proceeded to show her what hard fucking was all about.

I knew at this point that I wouldn't last long but figured that she'd orgasmed enough, and it was my turn. It took about ten thrusts into her gooey cunt for me to feel that wonderful tickle that we all love so much rising in my cock and with a leonine roar, (if I do say so myself) I jammed my cock as far into her as I could and felt all the cum in the world exit my dick with the most exquisite feeling I'd experienced in some time.

I then collapsed on her and we both laid there panting and trying to regain some semblance of ordinary breathing. I was quite proud of myself for about 15 seconds when, much to my dismay, Guilt, Remorse, and Shame raised their ugly heads. I looked at my little Amy. Her head was thrown back, making it hard to see all of her face, her mouth was open gasping for breath, and her eyes, which I could see as from below were gazing down at me with an expression that, at that moment, seem to encapsulate the very epitome of fear, agony, and the dismay of one who had been cruelly betrayed by the person they trusted most in the world.

I immediately went totally to pieces. I had raped and ravaged my daughter, my favorite child, who had come to me with her most precious gift, and I had abused her savagely. I moved up so I could see her face better and, as I gazed down at her I began to cry. Within seconds, literally, I was crying as hard as I ever have in my life, completely unable to stop or control my emotions, and unable to form any coherent sentences, with the exception of, "I'm so sorry, Amy, I'm so sorry."

I don't know how many times I repeated this, or how long I cried, it seemed to me to be hours, but of course it was only a few minutes. I eventually became vaguely aware that Amy was stroking the back of my neck and saying something to me, and I managed to achieve control over my sobbing enough to hear her.

"Don't cry Daddy, don't cry, it was wonderful, I loved it. Please don't cry," and more to that general effect. I stopped crying and looked down as we stared at each other.

"I raped you, Amy, I don't know what I was thinking."

"Oh, Daddy, I loved it. It was what I wanted. I didn't know that it was possible to come like that, it was wonderful." With that she mashed her lips against mine and we went back to the slobbery tongue duel that we had started with. We kissed for quite a while, and I began to feel somewhat better about myself. I also realized several things. In the first place my cock was still inside her wonderful cunt, it had not fallen out on its own and I had been so intent on apologizing that I hadn't backed out of her. Secondly, although I was usually a one come and done guy, I could feel my cock, which was being delightfully squeezed by her velvety cunt, was starting to come back to life. Thirdly, she had noticed this too and, with a coquettish giggle she suddenly said, "It's getting hard, Daddy, can we do it again?"

We kissed some more, and I squeezed her rubbery nipples and chewed on them a little and eventually my cock was hard enough to begin working in and out. After a bit of thrusting, I decided, since this was, ostensibly, an instructional endeavor, that maybe she would like to be introduced to another position.

"Get up on your knees and elbows," I told her, pulling out at I said it. She immediately got in the proscribed position.

"This is known as 'Doggy Style'" I told her, like a professor in a lecture hall. Having imparted the required information I rammed my cock back into her still gaping cunt which elicited from her a decided "Oof," and we were off again.

After fucking her awhile in this position I was reminded of our experience at Art Carson's house when Conti had Ellen laid on the pool table and I decided that what I needed to really fuck Amy properly were sufficient handles to pull her onto my cock with the proper authority. So, I used my left hand on her nipples, alternating between them and pulling them mercilessly to propel her back onto my cock with sufficient force. My other hand got a vice-like grip on her incredible clit and, pinching and twisting it at the same time as I was pulling, I preceded to fuck her like a two-bit whore. I felt guilty again for a few minutes as her shrieks descended into incoherence, but eventually she got into the rhythm of it and I could hear her chanting, "Yes, yes, yes," under her breath every time I rammed my cock into her, so I figured I wasn't abusing her too outrageously.

I lost it a bit at the end, and when my crisis was approaching, I began spanking her beautiful ass with the hand that had been pinching her nipples and as my climax surged through my cock I yelled, "You little whore," at her several times, at which point I had a massive orgasm and filled her up for the second time in thirty minutes or so. I felt bad about this and after our breathing had returned to normal (which took a bit in my case) I apologized for it and assured her that nothing personal was meant, it was just the excitement of the moment.

"Oh, that's OK, daddy, I loved that too. When you started spanking me and calling me your little whore, it went right to my clitoris, and I came so hard I thought I was going to pass out. Now I know why we heard Momma making so much noise all these years. I loved it!"

We laid there entwined for a few minutes until I realized how decadent this was, she was my daughter, after all, and I moved slightly away from her, and we looked at each other for a few seconds.

I trailed my eyes down her body and suddenly realized what I had done to her and was somewhat taken aback by the absence of any blood.

"I, you, you're not bleeding," I blurted out, immediately appalled at my own stupidity. "I just expected there to be blood," I went on, thinking, at the same time, that I was just making matters even worse.

"No, Daddy," she remarked, with somewhat of a smirk, "Remember that time I fell on the balance beam, while I was in gymnastics?"

"No."

"Oh, well I fell on it with my legs spread and it really hurt, and I stared to bleed. Mom took me to the doctor, and he said I had torn my hymen and it was in such bad shape that the wisest thing was to just remove it, so he did. That was when I was about twelve."

I rummaged back through what was left of my brain cells to that approximate time and vaguely remembered Ellen's recounting of a post-gymnastics practice trip to the doctor.

"Yes, I remember your Mom telling me about the trip to the doctor, but I had forgotten the details," I remarked. We regarded each other for a few minutes, silently. "Amy," I finally got out, "This cannot happen again. I'm sorry I didn't control myself, it was totally my fault, but this has to never be repeated."

She regarded me rather coolly I thought (considering I'm supposed to be the more sophisticated one) and, finally said, "Yes, Daddy, if you say so." With that remark she picked up her robe, wrapped herself in it and got up off the bed. She stood there, looking at me for a short while and then, flashing her beautiful smile, leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips. "Thanks for taking care of what I wanted," she said lightly, "I really enjoyed it."

Having said that, she turned and left the room. I sat there for several minutes ruminating on what had happened, until I discovered that my ruminations were causing my cock to get hard. Mentally castigating myself for being a dirty old man, I tried to dismiss all such thoughts and, rising from the bed with a slight shudder over what I had just done, repaired to the bathroom to shower and begin the day.

After showering I made my way downstairs. I didn't feel like cooking, so I called up the stairs to Amy and asked if she wanted to go to Spencer's, a local diner not far from our house, for breakfast. She called down that she'd love to if I'd give her a few minutes to get dressed.

I waited for her, and she came down shortly, dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, her usual warm weather outfit. We got in the car and drove the short way to the diner. Once inside we sat in a booth and ordered coffee. While we looked over the menu, I decided it might be a good time to clear the air about what had happened that morning.

"Amy," I started, "I want to talk about what happened. I don't know what caused you to want to do this, but as far as I'm concerned, I think we should consider this a one-off and try to return to our previous relationship which, by the way, I found to be very enjoyable and rewarding. I hope we can return to just being Dad and daughter and put all this behind us and forget that what happened ever happened."

Amy looked up from the menu and regarded me coolly for a moment. She then looked down at the table and, I'm assuming, thought deeply for a few moments. In the meantime, the waitress returned and asked if we had made up our minds. We both ordered and she left. As she departed Amy looked back up at me and started talking.

"I don't know about forgetting it ever happened, Daddy," she said. "It was probably more memorable for me than it was for you as I have no other sexual experience to compare with it. I also can't promise it would be that easy for me to regard it as a one-off, as you say, and never think about it again. It was a remarkable experience and I'm sure that I will want to enjoy it again. With you! Mom and Brittany are gone until Wednesday, in any case. Can't we just play it by ear until then and see what happens?"

"Play it by ear?" I blurted out. "You mean you expect there to be a repeat of that?"

"Let's just try to return things to normal, as you suggested," she retorted, with a barely stifled grin, "I have a bunch of schoolwork to do this weekend, and you were going to cut the grass today. Normal sounds like a good thing to me, so I'll agree with your original request. Everything will have to return to normal on Wednesday, anyway, so let's just be cool until then. Truce?"

She stuck her hand out to shake and I took it. We shook on it. I asked her what schoolwork she had for the weekend, and we discussed that until the waitress brought our food. We had a nice, relaxed breakfast, just like old times, and I felt like I had dodged the bullet. For the moment at least.

After we ate, we returned home. Amy said she was going to her room to start on her schoolwork and get it out of the way as much as possible so she could enjoy her weekend. That "enjoy her weekend" remark caused a small alarm bell to ding in my head, but I reasoned to myself that she probably had something planned with friends or going to the mall or some other innocent pursuit. At least I hoped so.

We went inside and, while Amy went to her room to start work, I went to our bedroom and changed into an old pair of shorts and an old tee shirt to cut the grass which, I knew, was going to be a hot and sweaty chore. We had had a lot of rain recently and the weather had gotten quite warm for this early in the Spring. The grass needed cutting and I knew it was going to be a hot chore in the almost summer-like weather we were having. After changing I went and got the lawnmower out of the garage, gassed it up and started working.

Our lawn was fairly big, and it usually took me about an hour and a half to cut it since I bagged it all. I worked along, emptying the mower into the city yard waste bags that we were required to purchase and setting them out by the curb to be picked up on the next week's trash pickup day. I was about two-thirds through the job when I turned at the end of one of my runs to see Amy coming out of the kitchen door with a big cup in her hand. I stopped the mower and waited for her to get to me. When she had reached me, she handed me the cup which was full of cold water from the refrigerator.

As she handed me the glass she said, "Here, Daddy. I always remember Mom bringing you a cup of cool water when you were mowing the lawn, so I thought it was my duty to perform that service in her absence."

"Thank you," I gasped, "this does hit the spot." I proceeded to drink from the cup while Amy stood there eyeing me.

"My gosh, you are really sweating," she said, regarding me with a surprised expression on her face. "You couldn't be any wetter if you'd dived in Grandma's pool."

"Yeah," I remarked. Looking down I saw what she was seeing, although I'd seen it hundreds of times, unlike Amy, who seldom was involved in my mowing the lawn. My tee shirt was completely soaked. In addition, the sweat had run down my body and my shorts, which were light-colored when dry, were obviously also soaked all the way down to my crotch. Also, the sweat was rolling off me, my face, my arms and legs, and the back of my neck. Like she said, it was almost as though I had just climbed out of a swimming pool.

"Hard-working, sweaty man," Amy said, running her hand down my forearm and then holding it up in front of her face to see the wetness literally pooled in her hand. "Does Mom find it sexy when you come in the house all sweaty like this from working out in the heat.?"

As I look back on this, I marvel at my own naivete, but no alarm bells went off in my head at this time. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was that I was working and concentrating on that, maybe it was how tired I felt, or, most likely, maybe I'm just not all that bright, but any ominous feeling from this conversation went right over my head.

"Ha, sexy, you must be kidding. She doesn't even let me go upstairs to shower in my mowing clothes. She always makes me strip to my briefs in the basement and hang it all right on the wash line to dry off so it doesn't get mildewed before she can wash it. It's just second nature to me now."

"Huh," Amy huffed, "Well, don't wear yourself out," taking the empty cup from my hand. "See you when you're done," she said, at which she turned on her heel and marched toward the house.

"Yeah, thanks," I called after her, as I started the mower back up. She waved a hand in my direction and walked into the house.

45 minutes later I was done with the mowing, mower back in the garage, bags of grass all out by the curb, and ready for a cool shower and a cocktail of some kind before dinner, which was planned to be a lasagna that Ellie had prepared, and for which Amy had the heating instructions. I walked into the kitchen and went immediately downstairs to the basement. Stripping off everything but my briefs and hanging it all on the line to dry out, I walked carefully up the stairs in my bare feet. I closed the basement door and turned, to continue up to our bathroom where I could already feel that tepid shower washing the sweat off me. I turned back to the kitchen and was astonished to see Amy standing in the door of the kitchen, naked and holding one of our dog whips that we had purchased when we were into our punishment nights.

"Hold it right there, Daddy," she barked, "Drop those drawers!"

After getting over my shock (somewhat} and determining that I needed to get an upper hand here, I said, in the most authoritative voice I could muster, "All right, Amy, that's enough of that. I told you we were not going to have any ----"

She took a couple of steps toward me and flicked her wrist, and the whip snaked out in my direction. With an audible "crack" the tip of the whip made contact with the front of my briefs, missing the tip of my dick by mere inches and inflicting a probable bruise on my thigh, not all that far from my scrotum.

"Hey!" I yelled, "What do you think you're ---"

"I said drop those drawers," she fairly shouted, drawing the whip back for another flick.

Making a quick judgement about the possibility of a more accurately aimed flick and, also, I will admit, mesmerized by the sight of her naked body (I could see her clit already peeking out from its hood) I quickly shed my briefs and threw them into the kitchen sink, mainly because they were wet enough to be wrung out and I didn't want my sweat on the clean kitchen floor.

"Down on your knees," she barked, "Now!" I immediately dropped to my knees, and she advanced on me. Throwing the whip aside she flung her arms around my body and, crushing herself against me began rubbing her naked body up and down mine. It had the same effect as this morning, in that my dick instantly became as hard as glass.

"Oh, God, Daddy, you're so sweaty," she moaned, as she rubbed her tits and pussy up and down my body. She descended to her own knees and continued her assault, which had the effect of spreading my sweat over both of us and making the rubbing of our bodies together that much dirtier and, I might add, wonderful. This went on for only a short time before my mind and body insisted that I had to fuck her. Getting to my feet and bringing her with me I plopped her on the kitchen table, spread her legs wide and rammed my cock into her gaping pussy for the third time that day.

We fucked like animals for a while, me slamming into her, twisting her nipples and pinching her clit and her, gasping and shrieking and urging me on to fuck her ever harder and moaning that she was my whore. I realized that I was quickly losing control of the situation (took me a while, I admit) and I decided that something needed to be done to reestablish myself as the dominant personality here and maybe convince her that a sexual relationship with her father wasn't something she really wanted to pursue. Spying a cruet of olive oil that Ellie kept on the counter (mostly for decorative purposes) and that I could reach by leaning that way a little, I grabbed it and pulled the stopper out. I took the cruet and poured a generous amount of oil over my cock and her cunt, never stopping hammering into her.

"Oh, God, Daddy, it's making my pussy so slippery," she groaned, "Don't stop, don't stop," which was totally unnecessary because I had no intention of stopping. I had other plans, however, that little Amy was not aware of.

"So, you want me to make you my whore, Amy?" I gasped out while continuing to hammer her cunt.

"Oh, God, yes, Daddy, make me your whore," she gasped out.

"OK, baby," I shouted, "Here's what happens to whores," and with that I grabbed her ankles and pushed them back to her ears, opening her up to me, with everything exposed. She gasped for a minute, but before she could say anything I pulled my cock out of her cunt and slammed it against her cute, little butthole, which resisted for a second before giving way to my rock hard cock and the slickness of the oil and, before she knew what had happened I was balls deep in her butt and sawing away in spite of the tightness.

Things changed in a hurry! Amy was still shrieking, but her shrieks were of an entirely different nature.

"Ow! Ow! Oh, God, Daddy, take it out, take it out, it hurts! Oh, Daddy, please, please, no more, no more, please, I can't take any more!!! Ow, please, please," and other imprecations to that effect. Apparently, she wasn't quite ready to be that much of a whore.

In thinking about it all later and, in the wake of subsequent occurrences, I think, if I had been able to come quickly, Amy's preference for sex with her father might have pretty much disappeared that night. She continued to beg me to stop, wailing that she couldn't take any more. Of course, she had no way of knowing that, having experienced this many times with Ellie during our "punishment night" period, the idea that she couldn't take any more, rather than making me think of easing up on her, enflamed and aroused me the fuck her that much harder. Having already fucked her twice that morning, however, and being in my mid-forties, it just wasn't possible for me to summon up another climax on short notice. Consequently, I fucked her ass for a while and, in the course of my reaching for an orgasm, things began to change.

As I sought my release quickly and in vain, Amy's shrieking changed from pleas to stop and take it out to a period where she exclaimed "Ah!" on every thrust of my cock into her poor little butt hole. I didn't immediately realize the way things had changed. She rather quickly segued from "Ah," to moans and then, eventually, in the space of ten minutes or so, which seemed much longer, to cries to fuck her harder and to rape her dirty, whore ass. I decided I needed to up the stakes and tip the scales back towards her never wanting to do this again, so I adopted my earlier strategy and started pinching her clit and using it to pull myself into her butt even harder. I thought I had hit on a workable plan but, within a few minutes she was screaming, "Pinch it harder!" and eventually graduated to, "More, more, hurt it, hurt it!" I dug my thumb nail into her clit, not hard enough to injure her, but it had to hurt like a bitch. With a final, animalistic shriek the announced that she was coming and this sent me over the edge and into an incredibly satisfying orgasm of my own. A very enjoyable afternoon, but not what I hoped to accomplish when the idea of raping her butthole came to me.

I collapsed after my orgasm and lay on her with my entire weight. I could hear her trying to breath with my heavy weight on her and, eventually managed to roll off her to my right, causing my cock to slip out of her butt with and audible pop. I lay there for a few seconds, trying to control my breathing and listened to her attempting the same thing. After getting her breathing under control she moved towards me and threw her arms around me.

"Oh, Daddy," she cooed, "That was wonderful! I didn't know that people even did that! You made me climax so hard!!"

"I, - I, - I raped you," I stammered, hesitantly. "I'm so sorry, Amy, I really hurt you, didn't I?"

"It hurt at first, Daddy," she admitted, eyes downcast, "But then it got just kind of numb. Then, when you kept thrusting in and out of me it, actually, began to feel kind of good. Then, when you started pinching my clitoris, it started to feel really wonderful, and sexy and forbidden and, mostly, just really, really dirty. I loved it!! Did you and Mom do that a lot, is that why we used to hear her moaning and groaning all the time? Are we going to do that a lot?"

Her bubbling enthusiasm for having me rape her butthole threw me for a bit of a loop. I was trying to come up with a response that would make sense to both of us when I raised myself up and looked things over and was instantly appalled by the mess we had made of the table where we ate most of our meals. I will pass over the details but will leave it to the reader to imagine what butt fucking on the kitchen table would accomplish in the way of creating a mess!

"Amy, we need to clean up a little here (understatement of the century), you can shower down here, and I'll go upstairs. Then we need to come back here and clean this up."

She rose up enough to see what I was referring to and blurted, "Oh, ick!"

"Yeah," I agreed, "Let's get going. I'll run upstairs and shower quickly, and then we need to clean this up." Saying this I stood up, grabbed my briefs and put them on for the trip upstairs and moved quickly up to our ensuite bathroom and turned the shower on. Once the water was sufficiently hot, I got in and scrubbed myself clean in a few minutes. I started to reflect on the whole experience and then decided to let that go for the present and just concentrate on the task at hand. I dried off, threw on briefs, shorts and a tee shirt and went down the stairs to get started on the kitchen.

When I walked into the kitchen, I was surprised to see Amy down on the floor wiping it clean with a dishtowel apparently soaked in Lysol (the bottle was on the table) and working on the floor still totally naked. I stammered out, "Amy, did you shower already?" trying to tear my eyes away from her still red cunt and ass hole that I could see between her butt cheeks. "My God," I thought, "I want to fuck her again," with a shudder at such a thought.

"No, I just wanted to clean this up. Ugh, what a mess."

Wanting to get her out of there before I did something I might regret, I told her, "Amy, just go and shower and get dressed, I'll finish cleaning up.'

She gave me that look that women usually give to men, the one that says, "Are you sure you can handle this job to MY satisfaction," but when I made the "Shoo" gesture with my hands she abandoned the look and went on upstairs as I wished. I am ashamed to admit that I stared at her ass until she finally disappeared up the stairs. I got the Lysol and finished wiping the table and mopping the floor until I felt that the kitchen had been restored to its previous clean condition.

I then went into the den and turned the TV on, only to discover that there was a baseball game in progress, Pirates against the Cardinals, from St. Louis. I watched the Cardinals pounding the Buccos into chutney for a while when Amy suddenly appeared in the doorway dressed in her usual summer outfit of shorts and a tee shirt.

"Can I watch with you, Daddy?" she asked, rather tentatively.

"Of course, Baby," I cooed, and she joined be on the couch, leaning against me and directing her attention towards the TV.

We watched silently for a few minutes. Eventually I realized that she had nodded off and was sleeping quite peacefully, head resting against my shoulder. I regarded her sweet face for a few minutes, the face of my sweet Amy, and reflected on how our relationship had been altered in the last few hours, and what this all meant for our lives going forward.

I nodded off, myself, eventually, and we both dozed peacefully for a while. At some point something significant happened in the game and the announcer woke me up. Amy was still sleeping soundly. I worked my shoulder out from under her head and got up off the sofa and walked out into the hallway.

Looking at my watch I realized that Ellen and Brittany would be at her aunt's house by now and decided I needed to call her and let her know what had happened in her absence. I was not looking forward to this conversation, mind you, but Ellen and I had established, at the time we put "The Day" to rest that we would be totally honest with each other going forward and I felt I owed it to her to inform her of what had happened this morning. With enormous trepidation I walked out into the yard and stood there, trying to figure out how I was going to approach this subject with my wife.