Tumblr Daughter

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Chapter Two

After Sybil flashed me - and I was sure she had intentionally flashed me - things got even more ... comfortable ... when the girls were around. As they got older, their pajamas got thinner and more like lingerie instead of pajamas. Some outfits consisted of tops and panties ... panties that fit very snugly between the legs ... panties that almost displayed, rather than hid the treasures within them.

It was delightful, except for the fact that Amber joined right in and scampered around in next-to-nothing outfits just like the rest of the girls.

It was at this point that I finally noticed that Alex was still welcome in the gabfests that went on during sleepovers. Of course his attire was a lot more conservative, consisting usually of a pair of running shorts or his swim trunks and a tank top. I reflected on that one night when the whole group - six girls and Alex - crammed themselves into the hot tub, with the radio playing next to them, loud enough that I went out and turned it down.

"Party pooper!" called out one of the girls. Another one shushed her in that special way that makes an adult's radar flare. I looked to see one of the girls was topless.

"Oops!" she said, as soon as she realized I was looking at her. She lifted her bikini top up and covered her breasts with it, as if it had somehow just come loose and fallen ... accidentally. But my man radar told me it hadn't been accidental, and I perked up instantly. I looked at Alex, who was on the opposite side of the tub from this girl, whose name was Janice. And he was talking to the girl next to him, who happened to be Sybil. His arm was around her. Well, I should say his left arm was around her. His right arm was around a girl named Amanda. But both hands were lying limply on the edge of the tub, as opposed to actually gripping a girl ... you know what I mean? It looked very innocent and harmless.

So I ignored my man radar while Janice put her top back on and tied it up. I stood there for a few seconds and they went on talking, ignoring me.

That same night, when they all came inside, Sybil came up to me, her suit wet and clinging, and obviously not designed for swimming, because her nipples poked right through it.

"Can I use your shower again tonight?" she asked.

Sounds innocuous ... right? Except for the fact that none of the girls had ever asked me if they could use my shower. They just did it.

And my man radar flared again, and I said "Sure." And then, for some reason I still don't understand, I said "I'll be reading again, so pay special attention to your towel."

I was reading, in fact, when she came out of my bathroom. And she had paid special attention to the towel.

It was wrapped firmly in a turban around her hair. Other than that, she was gloriously, wonderfully, beautifully, stark naked. She stopped, facing me, one leg off to one side with the toe pointing out, and her hand on her hip.

"I was afraid it would just fall off again," she said calmly.

"I see," I managed to choke out.

She stayed there. "And, after all, you've seen me before."

"I have," I agreed.

I completely forgot I was wearing a pair of running shorts myself. My book prevented me from seeing what I should have felt happening. Then I did feel it happening. About that time I saw her eyes dip to my groin. I laid the book down and there it was, a six inch tent in my shorts.

"You're a dirty old man, Mr. Cee," said Sybil, calmly.

It was the fact that she was that calm that calmed me down. I mean it was obvious she was doing this on purpose. And I had no idea what she actually had in mind, but I was in no hurry to get her to leave this time.

"Thanks to you," I said.

She smiled. "I like the way you look at me."

"You're insane," I said. "I sure hope you don't do this to the boys."

"Of course not," she said, carelessly. "Not all of them, anyway. But you're different. You're special."

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Because you're Amber's daddy," she said, simply.

"Oh," I said.

"You don't understand now," she said. "But someday you will. I have to go now. You got me all excited."

And with that she turned and sauntered out the door.

I got up and followed, sticking my head out the doorway and watching those ass cheeks rise and fall as she walked away. She turned a corner and I heard Alex's bass voice say "Damn, Sybil!" It was like his tone of voice was surprised, but not because she was naked. It was more like he was surprised she was so casual about being naked. She said something, but it was too low to understand and then I didn't hear anything else. I should have followed them, as I found out later. It would have been very entertaining. But I didn't.

Instead I closed the door and stood there, already masturbating.

It took less than a minute before I spurted.

I don't want to make it sound like there were naked teenaged girls running around my bedroom on a regular basis. It wasn't like that at all. Nor were there girls having "accidents" in the hot tub all the time. Over the months and years however, our house became more and more a place where Amber's considerable group of friends spent a lot of time hanging out. What that means is that it wasn't at all odd for a girl to sleep over. I'm not talking about a group of them, staying up late and tearing up the kitchen and taking showers in my bathroom. That still happened, but no more frequently than before.

Rather, it became common for there to be an extra person at the table in the evening, and Amber would casually say "Linda's sleeping over tonight, Daddy." Or Sharon, or Beth, or Brandi, or whoever. Most of those nights I couldn't even tell the difference. Amber had a TV in her room, and she and her friend would disappear in there not to be seen until morning.

But that wasn't always the case. It was always hardest on me - in more than one way - when the girl who stayed over was Brandi or Sybil. That's because both of them progressed to hugging me whenever they came over. And those were difficult hugs, because whoever was responsible for supplying them with good hugs was falling down on the job. I knew that because when they hugged me, it was always an intense, very personal hug, with a lot of feeling in it.

I'm not talking about a general clench, with some patting on the back here. They gripped me, pressing their tender, young bodies hard to mine, and their hands moved over my back, roaming around like they were searching to see if I was wearing an FBI wire or something. And their faces would tuck into my neck, and breathe hot breath on me while whatever body wash they used wafted into my nose. Those scents were almost magical, because they entered my nose and went straight to my prick, filling it up to bursting. They knew it too.

I knew this because they always pressed their hot, teen loins hard against mine ... with a little grind thrown in for good measure.

Of course I knew they were flirting with me. And the pervert in me loved it. But I also knew better than to pursue anything with either of them. I was pretty sure they'd let me get away with copping a feel, but all that would do was get me frustrated, and if that wasn't okay with them, then it could cause real problems.

So, when Brandi or Sybil came over, I spent a lot of time in my room. I always had a good book lying around, and those two girls were responsible for me reading dozens of them.

It's important that you know, though, that I also had my own computer in my room, safely passworded so my kids couldn't see what I had on it. That was critical, because what I had on it were hundreds of pictures of girls and women, culled from various tumblr sites. I used them as masturbation aids.

I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that with all those luscious young girls running around my house, sometimes in next to nothing, that I had plenty of mental images to call on to beat off to. And you're right. I did have images of girls running through my brain when they were around.

The problem was that one of those images was that of my own daughter, who was just as hot as all the rest of them.

So I used my library of tumblr girls to take my perverted mind off my daughter. I didn't mind imagining fucking Brandi or Sybil. That was no problem, especially since they ground their young pussies against me every time they came over. But I couldn't think of them without thinking of Amber, lying right beside them.

So I spent a lot of time trolling tumblr sites, looking for new additions to add to my sordid collection.

It was, in fact, while I was doing just that, that I came upon a picture of Sybil, naked as a jaybird, right there on a tumblr site called g3O66pussy.tmblr.com.

I stared at Sybil. It was obviously her. She had the fabric of a bikini hanging from her hand, and I recognized that bikini fabric. I'd seen her in that bikini countless times. She was standing full on to the camera, with her feet shoulder's width apart. That delicious eleven-year-old looking bare pussy was fully on display, and her nipples were hard and thrusting. The look on her face was like she was saying "If you don't fuck me right now, I'm going to go out on the street and fuck the first man I see."

Then I recognized the hot tub she was standing in front of.

It was mine.

That picture had been taken at my house.

I found three more pictures of Sybil on that site. There were two more of her by the hot tub. In one she was wearing the whole bikini, and in the other only the bottoms. If you put all three of the "bikini pictures" together, they made a short series. The other one was of her lying on my daughter's bed, naked, her knees drawn up and wide apart in welcome. Her pussy lips, which were pale white in all the other pictures, were red and inflamed in this one. Instinct told me she had just been fucked, and that's why those pussy lips were so red and swollen. But that was impossible! Nobody got fucked on my daughter's bed!

I sat there, thinking, looking at the girl in the picture. My hands went through the automatic motions of saving the pictures to my special fantasy directory.

I thought about the boys who came to our house. There was really only one, Alex's best friend, a kid named Danny Fitzimmons, who I had known for at least five years. He stayed over some nights, but not when any of Amber's friends were there. And in any case, he only stayed over every other month or so. Somehow that just didn't jive with being the guy who had fucked Sybil's tender pussy lips all red like that.

I chided myself for having a wild imagination. Then I looked at the picture again. I pulled the other picture of her with a bare pussy up and put them side by side. I wasn't imagining things. Those lips had been mauled and abused, making them red instead of white.

I looked at the rest of her. Her left hand was draped carelessly across her flat belly. I peered at the fingers, and realized they looked shiny ... like they were wet. With an incredible sigh of relief, I realized she had masturbated. That's what had made those pussy lips all red. Yes! It was just that she had masturbated!

I realized I was shaking, and that this shaking was a result of the relief I felt that Sybil hadn't been fucked after all. If anybody was going to fuck that girl, it should be me! I stared at those red pussy lips ... which should be red because I had fucked her good and proper.

I reached for my cock, and started stroking.

I realized, in the aftermath of an intense orgasm, that I needed to get a grip. I had just been through a major psychological ordeal, all because my perverted nature was taking all this much too seriously. Girls Sybil's age got fucked all the time. Most girls her age got fucked, in fact. It was normal in this day and age for girls her age to be sexually active, and it shouldn't have come as a shock to me that she might pose for nudie shots. After all, she was very comfortable at my house. Of course she was stupid in the extreme for putting these pictures on line. That was something that couldn't be undone. I'd bet her pictures had already been reblogged on hundreds of sites.

I went back to g3O66pussy.tmblr.com again and opened each of her pictures in a new tab. I had already saved all of them, but now I wanted to see who else in the pervert community had "liked" her picture. I knew that meant they had saved it and put it on their own site too. I also looked to see where the pictures had originated when whoever ran g3O66pussy.tmblr.com copied them and put them in his or her blog.

All of them were dated just fifteen days ago, and all of them came from a blog called nastyhotbitch.tumblr.com.

I went there.

And within ten minutes, my world had fallen apart.

They were all there. Brandi ... Sybil ... Janice ... Leslie ... Amanda ... Brittney ... even mousy, shy little Linda, who was only fourteen! All of them were in various stages of undress. All of them were there nude. All of them were there in sexually explicit poses. And some of them were being fucked.

Amanda's was the first one I saw like that. She was facing the camera, lying on her right side, with her left leg raised high. There was a guy behind her, with his left hand cupping her left breast, his fingers pinching her nipple, and his penis plugged securely into her pussy. She had a vapid grin on her face, like she was stoned. There were other naked bodies in the picture, around the periphery. I recognized one of them as being Brandi. In that picture she had her hand on her pussy, like she was rubbing there. The others didn't have heads.

This was taking place on my daughter's bed.

Then I found others. There had been more than one male in my house, unknown to me, fucking the teenaged girls my daughter invited over. I found a picture of Amanda, on all fours, looking at the camera between her legs, while a black penis penetrated her. You could only just tell that because the black balls hanging down, full of sperm, partially obscured the scene of the crime.

There were other pictures involving this black man too, as well as white pricks that penetrated the girls.

I was stunned. I was so stunned that it never occurred to me that Alex was black, and in the house all the time.

And I kept finding more and more pictures, which kept me off balance.

There was another one of Sybil, lying back limply, her legs carelessly spread. It was obvious she'd been fucked this time, because her abused pussylips were gaping open where they had been spread by a penis, only recently withdrawn. I couldn't see the thick white spunk he had deposited in her, but I knew it was there, deep inside. I was suddenly livid!

And then ... the unimaginable happened. I paged down and there, right in the middle of the page, was my baby girl ... my Amber ... naked ... facing the camera, perched on a set of black hips like a cowgirl riding a horse.

Except the "saddle horn" on this black steed was stuffed right up inside my daughter's belly. The camera had caught her either on the way up, or the way down, because there were about two inches of black penis that weren't inside her pussy.

I felt like I'd swallowed a pallet of bricks. She looked happy. Black hands were on her breasts, pinching her shockingly pink nipples, which I hadn't seen since she was about ten. They were a lot bigger now ... turgid ... adult looking. I could see the belly of the black man, but not his head or face.

I was astonished to see that her pubic hair had been trimmed into a sharply defined V shape, like an arrow pointing to where she was being fucked by some black bastard's prick. Not that I was being racist. It wouldn't have mattered if that cock was purple, I'd have been just as irate.

And that was the point at which I realized my own prick was diamond hard ... which meant that I was even more of a pervert than I had ever dreamed I was.

But I was still mad, so mad that I snapped, in one sense. It's not like I planned on beating my daughter or anything, but I snapped in terms of thinking things through before I acted.

Which is why I stood up, and then stomped to my door. I jerked it open and marched through the house to Amber's room. Her door was open, which was good, because I wouldn't have knocked. I stamped into her room to find her sitting at her student desk, probably doing homework. I pointed at her door.

"Get your ass in my room this instant!" I thundered.

I'm guessing my face was purple with rage, because she didn't say a word. She just stood up and went out her door. I followed. She knew where my room was, of course, and she walked in through the open door. It so happened the computer was on the wall opposite the door, so it was right there for her to see. Her picture was there, full screen. She couldn't miss it. She stopped as I came in the door behind her.

"Shit!" she said softly.

"Shit?" I croaked. "That's all you have to say?"

She turned to face me. The look on her face was peculiar, in the sense that there wasn't a shred of guilt being displayed.

"Wait here," she said firmly. She walked past me and out the door. I whirled.

"What?" I yelled. I was incredulous ... paralyzed by her brazen behavior. I started out the door, only to find her looking over her shoulder at me.

"Wait there, Daddy!" she yelled.

And for some reason I did.

When she returned, I was still standing in the hallway. I was a little confused now, probably because I couldn't understand my own behavior. I could see the screen from where I was standing, and I'd been staring at it. My cock was still hard, and I somehow got the feeling that I was the only person in my house who felt guilty about anything at all.

That changed as soon as I saw Amber coming back. She had Alex with her.

And he looked guilty as crap.

She took him to my computer and stood there, hands on her hips.

"That bitch!" she snarled. "How could she do that to me?"

Now I have to tell you, that at this point, I was ready to grasp at any straw. It was complicated, because the pervert part of me - the part that was responsible for my current iron hard erection - was pissed off that somebody else got to fuck these girls ... including Amber ... but not me. You got that? I was turned on by the idea of fucking my own daughter! That's how fucked up and perverted I was. But the father side of me was still there, and it was enraged that somebody had soiled my daughter. That part of me was also sure that if any other fathers found out what had happened on my watch ... in my house ... that they'd come as a mob to re-enact the storming of Dr. Frankenstein's house. You know, with the torches and the murderous intent and all that.

So when Amber made it sound like some other girl was responsible for what was on the screen the straw I grabbed at was related to one of my other collections of perverted porn. I'm talking about my collection of fake nudes of celebrities. I had them all. Sweet, innocent Emma Watson, from the Potter movies? There were tons of fakes out there, and they made her all look magically delicious. Kayley Cuoco, from Big Bang Theory? I'd stared at fakes of her many times while I serviced my unruly rod. Carly Foulkes, the T-Mobile girl? I had at least fifteen of her begging to be fucked. You name her, I had a fake of her naked. And they were the good fakes, the ones you could tell were fake only because the body had breasts that were much too big, or much too small or something like that.

So my mind leapt to that connection: Somebody had faked my daughter's face onto a picture of another woman riding a cock.

I felt this huge relief flow through me. Then my pure, innocent, virginal daughter turned around and hung her head and said "We're sorry, Daddy. We just got kind of carried away. Sharon swore she wouldn't do anything with the pictures, but I guess she lied, because that's one of them."

The bottom dropped out of my stomach again as I realized she had just confessed that the picture was real.

"Sharon?" I said, barely above a whisper. It occurred to me I hadn't seen any pictures of Sharon. Don't ask me why I thought of that just then, but I did.

"She brought a camera to a sleepover one night, when Janice was going to ... um ... for a special event, I guess you'd call it. And it was kind of fun, so she kept bringing it. But she swore she erased them all. Then we had a fight, because she didn't make cheerleader for next year, and the rest of us did. I guess this is her revenge."

"This is revenge for not getting cheerleader?" I asked, incredulous. "When the fuck did this even happen? And who is the fucking little prick who did this to you?" I still had not connected Alex's color or look of guilt to any of this. I hadn't had time to process any of the clues.

My daughter, who had been the woman of the family for years now, who had taken care of me while I was sick, mentally ill, even, and who had since grown comfortable telling me what to do in most situations, folded her arms under breasts that were suddenly huge and thrusting toward me.

"Sit down, Daddy. We need to have a talk." She pointed at the bed. Alex shifted from foot to foot.

"Amber?" he said softly. "Let's not do anything stupid here."

She glanced at him. "I already did something stupid, Alex," she sighed. He looked shocked ... maybe hurt, even. She saw his face too. "I don't mean you, Alex. I mean I should never have let that bitch bring a camera into this house."

I was sitting on the bed by this time, trying to make sense of any of this. The frustration finally bubbled up and out of my mouth.

"Would somebody please tell me what's going on here?" I asked.

She sat down next to me. She motioned Alex to sit on the other side of me. And it was exactly as his butt made the mattress sink down, that I made some connections in my mind. The first part of that was wondering why she had gone to get her brother at all, much less let him see that picture. And it was right after that that I realized the reason she had done that was because the black man in the picture was her brother. I turned a shocked face to her.

"You let Alex fuck you?"

She sat up straight. Her face was grim. She held up a finger.

"Don't ever use that word again when you talk about us, Daddy. That's a vulgar word. That's not the word for what we do!"

She sounded so upset that I said "Okay, sorry" automatically. The fact that she let some of the steel fade from her spine at that point made things better in a surreal sort of way, like my apology had actually meant something.

"Do you remember my thirteenth birthday party?" she asked, looking straight into my eyes.

"Sure," I said, again, automatically. I had to actually think at that point, but I did remember some of the details of that night. That was the night I'd met Brandi and Sybil, which was hard to forget.

"That night, after everybody left, and you went to bed, Alex and I were excited. We had fooled around a little bit before this, just experimenting ... you know, seeing what things were like."

I had no idea what she was talking about, but for some reason it was easier to nod than it was to ask questions. So I nodded.

"I liked kissing him," said Amber. "His lips are really soft and warm. And I practiced on him because I wanted to kiss a boy at school. You remember Steve. He was my first boyfriend."

I had no idea who Steve was, but again, I nodded.

"But when I kissed Steve, it was awful. It was so much more fun to kiss Alex. And we were so close after ... you know."

This time I shook my head, because I had no idea at all what she was talking about.

"After Mom died," she said.

"Oh," I said.

"That's when we started sleeping together," she said.

I pointed at the computer, which still displayed my little girl getting royally fucked ... by her brother, as it turned out.

"You mean that?" I asked, just scandalized.

"No!" she squealed. "Of course not, Daddy! Not then! We just cuddled and cried together back then. And after that, it was so nice to know he was right there, where I could reach out and touch him. That's why we slept together. It wasn't until that night, after my birthday party, that we made love for the first time!"

"I didn't mean to do that," said Alex, speaking for the first time. I turned my head to look at him. "That's when I kind of got carried away."

"You raped her?" I whispered.

I got an elbow in my left ribs - hard - and turned to see a very angry daughter.

"Of course not!" she snapped.

"I don't understand," I said, rubbing my ribs.

Amber stood up. She went to get the extra chair for the dining room table that I kept in my room, and brought it to sit in front of me. She sat down.

"I'll tell you what happened. You're jumping to all kinds of wrong conclusions, and that's not what needs to happen right now. Okay?"

"Okay," I said, back on autopilot.

She sat back. Then she told me their story.

"Because I was sleeping with Alex, I knew more about boys than my friends did. They didn't know why I knew more ... just that I did. So if they had questions, they asked me. And I'd talk to Alex and get the answers.

"Like what?" I asked.

Alex spoke next. "Like when they wanted to know what a boy did if his penis got hard."

"Yes," said Amber. "And he showed me, and I told them about it."

"Just like that?" I asked.

She looked over at Alex. "We may as well tell him all of it," she said.

I groaned.

"Oh Daddy," she sighed. "There doesn't have to be any drama about this."

"You've got to be kidding me," I moaned.

"We haven't done anything wrong, Daddy!" she snapped.

I pointed at the screen again. "That's your brother, Amber Lea!" I snarled.

"That's my adopted brother!" she snapped again. "This isn't incest, Daddy. I don't care what the rest of the world calls it. We're not related by blood. Yes, he's my brother. He'll always be my brother. But we're not related in a genetic sense."

I blinked. I'd gotten so used to thinking of them as my children, and as brother and sister, that I hadn't thought about it in any other way for years. I felt my face get hot, but it wasn't from anger or relief. It was from the fact that I was suddenly jealous of Alex, because he actually had an excuse for being able to mount Amber. My cock, which had only gone half soft, started to firm up again. I put my hand on the outside of my pants and pushed.

"Okay," I said, as I finally realized she was waiting for me to respond.

"All right," she said. "Somebody figured out I had to be getting my information from Alex. So they started inviting him into our sleepovers. He was pretty cool about it. He treated us better than their brothers did, and they all got crushes on him. So they asked him about things." She glanced at him. "And eventually they wanted to see things, instead of just hear about them."

"See things," I said, just parroting what she'd said. All kinds of things were running through my mind.

"Like they wanted to see me jerk off," said Alex.

"And then they wanted to touch him, but they were all chicken," said Amber. “But I was used to touching him. So I showed them there was nothing to it."

"You knew how to do it?" I asked. I took a deep breath.

"After he showed me how he did it, of course I wondered what it would feel like if I helped," she said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. "He liked it better when I did it for him, so I helped him a lot."

"Oh," I said, feeling my cock reach full hard again.

"And once I'd done it, they all wanted to do it too."

"Oh," I said, breathing faster.

"And that kind of set the stage for things in the future," said Amber.

"Wait!" I gasped. "Are you telling me that all those slumber parties were just excuses for the girls to fool around with Alex?"

"And Danny," said Amber. "There were too many of them for Alex, and Danny was the only other boy we could trust."

"Danny Nelson?" I asked. I knew he was Alex's best friend, but I hadn't seen him there on sleepover nights.

"Yes. We let him in through my window," said my formerly innocent, faithful daughter.

"Why?" I asked, actually curious now.

"Because he and Brittney did things like Alex and I do," she said.

"He fucks ..." I stopped as she frowned. "He has sex with his sister?"

"Sometimes," she said, completely calm. "Their whole family is like that. They're naturists, and run around naked at home. His mother taught him how to make love, and she usually handles his needs. I guess Mr. Nelson takes care of Brittney and her sisters, because he's had a vasectomy. Most of the girls don't know the whole story about that, but they knew that Danny and Brittney fooled around, like Alex and I fooled around. So he got invited in by the girls too."

"To do what?" I asked. I pretty well already knew what, but the pervert in me had to ask.

In my own defense, let me pause here, lest you think I'm only a perverted, horny old goat. The fact is that both Alex and Amber were very calm during this whole discussion. They had already adjusted to the fact that their relationship - and that of some of their friends, apparently - were highly controversial at a minimum, and had the potential for explosive scandal. And they had been engaging in this behavior for a little over three years. Amber had turned sixteen a month past, and my son's seventeenth birthday was only two weeks away. So I wasn't worried about psychological problems. I was amazed they were as mature about things as they appeared to be. Chalk that up to having to grow up without me for a while, maybe.

But they had also displayed horrible judgment. Messing around with each other was one thing. Considering the way they looked at their relationship, it was even possible that what they'd done was legal. Or could be made to be legal. And even when they sported with another couple who were incestuous in their behavior, maybe that could be expected.

But letting all those other girls play with the boys? Letting someone take pictures of them playing? In this day and age, with the internet only ten feet away ... that was pure insanity.

So about half my brain was thinking along those lines.

The other half, however, belonged to the pervert.

That was the half that asked "To do what?"

"To experiment with ..." She paused, looking at me with one eyebrow raised. "Sexually," she finally added.

I got up. I went to the computer and blocked the screen from their view as I moved into the directory where I'd stashed all the pictures of the girls she was talking about. There were only forty or so of them, but I clicked on "slideshow" and then went back to sit down on the bed.

"I'd call that a lot more than experimentation," I said.

They got up and went to stand together in front of the computer.

"Shit!" I heard Amber say, more than once. And Alex said "Oh damn."

Pretty soon Amber said "I'm going to kill that bitch!"

"I told you something was wrong," said Alex. "She never did anything with either of us."

"That's because she was too busy licking Sybil's pussy!" growled my innocent, virginal daughter.

"But nobody took any pictures of that," said Alex.

"You guys had freaking orgies!" I accused.

Amber turned around, frowning.

"Okay, so maybe things got a little out of hand sometimes."

"You like that excuse: out of hand," I said.

My innocent, virginal, sweet, unspoiled daughter sneered at me. "Stand up, Daddy. Look at the front of your pants. Then lecture me about getting horny."

I didn't have to get up, or look. I knew I was busted. Well ... the pervert was busted.

"And things didn't get that out of hand," said my daughter. "If they had, you'd have had naked girls climbing in bed with you on a regular basis."

I sat there, looking dejected. I wasn't actually dejected. I was in turmoil. The perverted half of me was panting at the idea that those girls ... some of them, at least ... had apparently expressed some kind of interest in me ... sexually.

"Really?" That was the pervert, fishing for more prurient information.

Amber actually laughed. She left Alex at the computer, bent over, peering at pictures, many of them involving his penis in some girl's vagina, and came over to stand in front of me. Then she knelt and wiggled her way between my knees, making them spread apart so she could get close to me. Her hands went to rest on my hips. I was acutely aware that my erection was only inches away from her. That image of her naked seemed to have burned itself into my brain, because I closed my eyes and it was still there.

"I know you fell apart when Mom died," she said, softly. "Alex and I did too. And I know you've had a hard time ever since. But sooner or later you have to let her go."

That banished the vision of her naked body from my mind, and my eyes opened.

"I can't let her go," I said. "She was everything to me."

"And what are we?" she asked. I knew she had included Alex in her question.

"That's different," I said. "You know I love you."

"Yes we do," she agreed immediately. "And that's the whole point. It was the love that Alex and I had for each other that anchored us in that storm, Daddy. We had someone to hold onto ... someone to cry with ... someone to ask for help, and to offer help to. It was the only way we could survive, Daddy. And I can understand why you couldn't do that with somebody else then. But this is now. She's been gone for years, Daddy, and we all know she'd want you to be happy ... to have more of that kind of love in your life."

I felt the tears threatening to overflow from my eyes.

"What does this have to do with the fact that you and your friends are naked, and having orgies, and it's right there for the whole world to see?" I was trying to force a change of subject.

"It has to do with the fact that some of those girls think you're pretty special," she said. "And yes, I know they're way too young for you, but the fact is that if they think you're special, then there are older women out there who will think the same thing. You need someone to love, Daddy."

The thought of dating made me fairly hysterical. I tried to make a joke to cover up for that.

"What if I don't want an older woman?"

She didn't bat an eye.

"Then I know at least two girls who would love to sleep with you."

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