Amiga ISO Collection/AmigaDemoCD2.iso/ASCII/TEXTE/SEX/ADULTSHARE/A/ASS14569.TXT

Text File | 1994-03-26 | 29.3 KB | 474 lines

@BEGIN_FILE_ID.DIZ
RUTHIE FOUR@END_FILE_ID.DIZ

    Ruthie and I were lying in bed. Her bed, of course; she'd made
it plain that the bed in her father's room wasn't for me.
    After she had sucked me in the faded blue chair, we had come
upstairs and taken off what little remained of each other's clothes. I
was so engrossed in what she had muttered while she was dancing ("Make
me another baby, Daddy. Mama can't stop us this time.") that I longed
for the time and space to be alone and think. But I cared enough for
Ruthie that I couldn't walk out on while her father lay hurt in the
hospital.
    I wasn't in the mood for sex, but she had made me come in her
mouth downstairs in the chair. Now she set out almost systematically to
turn me on so that I would make love to her. I put my thoughts on hold
and decided simply to enjoy whatever Ruthie did to me. We came again,
she lay back happy, and was soon asleep. I don't know what it means but
it was the first time in my life that I had ever been able to come three
times in less than two hours.
    I was in no mood for sleep. Ruthie had been so far gone when she
was dancing that she wasn't aware that she had spoken of having a baby
with her father. She hadn't mentioned it again, nor had she acted like
she'd revealed anything startling. Tonight could mark a crossroad in our
relationship. If what I'd heard was true, and should I accept it and
continue our relationship, I might get so involved that I would lose all
objectivity. Could I accept loving a woman who wanted (wants?) to have
her father's baby? If so, then I could accept anything. But I wasn't at
all sure.
    A small voice kept saying: "Jack, get out now, go home. This is
too crazy, too much. No more." I guess I had already accepted the fact
of incest, but wanting to have her father's baby was so unnatural that I
couldn't handle it on a conscious level.
    But there was a problem. The light in the bathroom illuminated
the bed and I looked at the sleeping face. She was so incredibly soft,
so sweet, so young-looking that I knew that I couldn't leave her. Deep
down inside me, I knew I couldn't leave her even if she wanted to have
her father's baby. I would never accept that, but I knew that I would
ignore it and go on with Ruthie. The truth was that I couldn't go on
without her. In the moment that I gazed upon her sleeping face I saw her
as Daddy must have seen her when she was thirteen years old. I felt a
certain kinship with him and knew that I was not totally unlike him. I
would do anything necessary to have Ruthie, and I knew she was worth it.
In that moment I accepted everything that she had told me, and might
tell me in the future, because she was worth it. In that moment, I knew
I really did love her. I also knew that some time in the future, I would
have to fight her father for her. Looking back now, I can almost laugh
at my naivete.
    In the morning I went to work and Ruthie went to the hospital. I
didn't get much work done. My mind was in a turmoil. Watching Ruthie
asleep in the soft light of her bedroom, I could pay almost any price so
long as I could be with her; but sitting at work and considering a
daughter who wanted her father's baby was a different matter.
    And the clues were there; Ruthie had offered them, unconsciously
or not: should her father die, she would die; resentment of her mother;
treating that bed as a sacred object. Again and again I told myself that
Ruthie was a seriously disturbed woman badly in need of professional
help. But another part of me argued that I was judging with my own
morality, and that hers was different. I had truly never in my life met
a more basically happy person than Ruthie. She seemed not "immoral," but
"amoral," as if none of the rules applied to her. She accepted herself
for what she was -- how should I judge her?
    But I couldn't get past the baby. I just couldn't handle it. I
finally decided to go home that night to sort things out in my mind. And
I was going to do that, too, but as I headed home, the image of her
sleeping form appeared before me again. Ruthie couldn't have had more
control over me were she a witch. I turned up her street, parked the
car, and sat on the porch to wait for her.
    She had told me she would be home to fix my dinner. Sure enough,
a minute later she drove up behind my car. I could see from the way she
jumped out of the car that she was in a good mood. She bounced up the
walkway and plopped down in a white wicker chair beside me.
    "Well," she smiled, putting her hand on my knee and rubbing me
softly.
    "Well what?" I responded, waiting for her cue.
    "He's lots better, Jack. He talked to me today, and I think
he'll be out of that place sooner than they think." I couldn't exactly
jump for joy, so I said nothing. Ruthie had on a black dress, and low
heel white shoes. A silver heart-shaped pendant hung in the valley
between her breasts. The blond hair and palee skin against the black
dress made her look like a pale goddess and I was lost again in the
sensuousness of her incredible body. Her breasts filled the dress like
they wanted to pop out and gain their freedom. I couldn't help it -- I
was getting turned on just looking at her. She smiled at me and said in
a demure voice, "What would my lover like to eat?"
    She knew only too well what I wanted to eat. I wanted to taste
her wetness on my tongue, to slide my tongue inside her wet hole, and
then lick her to orgasm as she had done to me so often in the last few
days. I would not mention the baby -- yet. After all, Ruthie was telling
her own story in her own time, and she would get to that part when she
was ready. She stood up and took my hand. She didn't speak but she led
me through the front door and up the stairs. My morality could not fight
the sight of Ruthie in that dress. I followed like a young boy hoping
for a reward. As usual, I got it.
    Inside her bedroom, Ruthie turned to me and her mouth found
mine. Her lips crushed mine, her tongue slipped into my mouth, and she
took her long blonde hair and began to wrap it around my head. My hands
were running up and down the sides of her body, such a tiny, slim body,
but firm and strong. I enfolded her as she played with her hair, and my
kiss was full of love and want and sex and desire. I opened up and gave
myself to her, no longer caring about anything but the beautiful woman
in my arms. All objectivity was gone.
    Grudgingly we broke the kiss, breathless from the strength of
its passion. Ruthie smiled her wisp of a smile that I'd learned
foreshadowed something new.
    "Would you like to see my baby book, Jack?" she said, her eyes
full of laughter. She had caught me off guard again. It wasn't at all
what I wanted just then, but I'd learned that with Ruthie, if you went
along, then you might get surprised.
    "Sure, Ruthie," I answered. "I'd like that very much." But
instead of getting it, she began to take my clothes off. She removed my
tie and my shirt and played over my nipples with her tongue. Finally her
hands found my belt buckle, and she opened it, smoothly dropping my
pants to the floor. I wanted her to take my dick in her hand, but she
suddenly skipped away.
    "Why don't you pull down the covers and get comfortable? I'll go
get my book." I complied while she went to the closet. She had kicked
off her shoes and stood on tip-toes to pull down a gray volume almost an
inch thick. She returned to the bed, got in, and snuggled up beside me.
She was still fully dressed.
    "Do you really want to see my baby book, Jack?"
    I felt like I was being teased -- and I was -- but I went along:
"Okay, Ruthie, let's have a look."
    She opened the book to the first page and I drew in my breath.
The caption in black letters said, "Ruthie 12 Years Old" and there she
was. A miniature Ruthie stared up from the page, a promise of what she
would become. I could see the likeness, but the innocence of that
younger Ruthie turned me on even as it reawakened my sense of morality.
Twelve-year-old Ruthie was a tiny little princess, a fairy-like
creature, beautiful beyond belief. The young child that stared into the
camera like a tiny angel.
    She was also totally naked.
    Mesmerized as I was, a part of my mind was whispering, "Jack, he
took pictures of her." Thoughts of child abuse returned but were
overwhelmed by the picture before me. The breasts were incredibly tiny,
but the nipples already formed. Ther waist would have fit easily within
the span of my hands. Yet it was her pussy that captured my attention.
There was a blonde fuzz around it, but it was almost bare. This was the
pussy that her father had licked. Looking at that picture, I could
relive all that her father had done to her when she was twelve. She was
a miniature goddess, I thought. No wonder he was unable to keep his
hands off her. But another part of me realized that he had taken
terrible advantage of her; here was proof for all to see.
    Ruthie ran her hand across my chest. "What do you think of me,
Jack?" she asked.
    I had lost my composure and I sputtered out, "He took pictures
of you?"
    She giggled. "Oh, Jack. It was my idea. I asked him to. I wanted
him to remember me the way I was. I got so turned on posing for those
pictures, Jack. It still turns me on to look at them."
    Once again, I had nothing to say. It had been Ruthie's idea!
When I thought about it, I really wasn't so surprised after all.
    "We had an old Polaroid camera, and I wanted him to take my
picture. I wish they'd had VCRs back then. We got one later, and
sometime, I'll give you a real show. I have one of me dancing for Daddy
when I was sixteen." She paused for a moment. "I took some of him, too,
but they're in another book. Want to see them?" she teased, kissing my
stomach. Then she got serious again. "Sometimes I pull out this book and
Daddy looks at the pictures while I play with him. Why don't we do
that?" And then, she slipped down in the bed and began to play with my
dick. It was such a turn-on that I couldn't resist, because I wanted to
see the rest of the pictures. I couldn't help myself, I wanted to see
them all.
    I turned the page. There were more "Ruthie 12 Years Old"
pictures and I stared at the pages, devouring the girl that Ruthie had
been. She certainly wasn't shy in those pictures. Even at her age, she
had known just exactly how to strike a pose that was both provocative
and innocent. Twelve or not, everything about it was Ruthie, from the
miniature breasts to her tiny feet. I began to turn more pages. Ruthie
had slipped my dick into her mouth but wasn't sucking so much as letting
it rest there, feeling good, while her pictures turned me on.
    More pages. Ruthie at 13, in what looked to be one of her
father's shirts, and nothing else. Barefooted with those long legs,
skinny like a young colt but graceful even so. Her breasts looked more
developed now, pushing against the shirt. There were many more shots of
her thirteen-year-old body, most of them naked. Her breasts were getting
bigger and I was transfixed by the evolution from the first picture to
the later ones, watching her body grow into womanhood.
    In one she lay on a rug in front of the fireplace. She was on
her stomach with her legs bent at the knees so that her feet stuck up
into the air. She was up on her elbows, and her little breasts hung
down, making them look bigger than they were. The smile on her face said
"Come and get me." There was nothing in these pictures that suggested
abuse at all. I still couldn't find it in my heart to approve of what
Ruthie's father had done when she was young and vulnerable, but I will
say this:
    I'm not sure that I ever met a woman who was happier about
herself and about her life than grownup Ruthie. These pictures seemed to
suggest that the child she had been was just as comfortable with
herself, even at 13. There she was, and by then she was no longer a
virgin. The girl in that picture was having sex with her father, and
posing so he could photograph her. I stared at the picture of that child
by the fireplace for a very long time while the woman that she had grown
into held my dick in her mouth. I had to admit to myself that had I been
presented with Ruthie at age 13 in a pose like that, I don't think I
could have resisted the invitation.
    Ruthie was beginning to apply more pressure to my swollen dick
as I looked into the book. The next picture was graduation day from
Junior High School, and Ruthie had on a pale pink dress. It was the
first picture in the book where she was fully clothed. In its own way,
it was as sexy as all the rest. Her eyes sparkled, the light was dancing
on her hair. This wasn't a black and white Polaroid, but if I could show
off one picture that epitomized Ruthie, this would be it. There was the
innocence of a 14-year-old child, but also an underlying expression of
strange maturity. I have never seen a picture of any girl or woman that
was so innocent yet so sensuous as this. I understood why he had put it
in the book.
    More pictures of Ruthie at fourteen followed, most of them
naked. It seemed that she was trying intentionally to turn her father on
now. She was more overtly sexual. Had it been her idea? Or his? Knowing
Ruthie, I decided it was probably hers. In one she was naked in their
room. Her legs were spread, her hand was between them and she played
with what she still called her button. She wasn't faking it, either. The
look on her face said Ruthie was turned on. I guessed that not long
after that picture was taken, Daddy had dropped the camera and joined
his daughter on the bed. Ruthie at 14 was a sexually mature woman in the
body of a child. She knew all the tricks that women know, she was an
experienced lover, and her body was ripening. I wanted to make love to
the fourteen-year-old girl in the picture.
    Other pictures at fourteen showed her body continuing to round
out and develop. If ther had ever been any baby fat, it was gone long
before these pictures were taken. Each was a study in perfection. Some
were overtly pornographic, others would have qualified as art had they
had been taken with better equipment and more technical skill. I
couldn't believe how many of them there were. Was there really time for
so much sex, and to take all these pictures, too? Obviously, they spent
most of their time together in sexual games.
    Ruthie's mouth pulled at me more insistently now. I'd been
trying to hold back my orgasm to look at the pictures. But page after
page of naked little Ruthie worked through my eyes and the real Ruthie
turned on the rest of me and I could hold back no longer. I stared at a
picture of her on the bed. The covers were in disarray, and Ruthie's
hair was all over her face. She had a satisfied look that told me what
her father had just finished doing to her. That one sent me off, and I
exploded into her mouth while fantasizing about the fourteen-year-old in
the picture. In a few minutes, we were both satisfied, she in her
picture and I with my dick in the mouth of the woman she had become.
    Ruthie finally took her mouth from my dick and the book from my
hands. I didn't want to see it go, but she was in control, as usual. I
lay, exhausted, as she returned it to its place in the closet. Then she
turned and approached the bed.
    "Was I pretty when I was a little girl?" she teased.
    "Honey, you were beautiful." That was a totally inadequate
answer, but I could find no words to tell her how much I had been turned
on by that book.
    "That's what Daddy likes to do sometimes. Just look at the
pictures while I suck him." She began to take off her clothes as she
spoke, unaware that even the simple act of undressing was for her an
unconscious art that made a man want to attack her. It came naturally to
her, but everything she did was sexy. If she had been like that at
twelve, it was no wonder that her father had wanted to try her out.
    She was naked and beautiful now. I wanted to make love to her
but I was too tired. Of course she knew that. She always knew
everything.
    "Why don't you turn over and I'll give you a special back
massage," she suggested. Nothing in the world could have sounded better
at that moment. I flipped over and Ruthie straddled me. I could feel her
pussy against my ass and it was a warm, comfortable feeling. As you
might expect, Ruthie's massages were as good as everything else she did
for her men. My body relaxed under her expert fingers. I would probably
have gone to sleep, but she began to talk about her father again.

    After that trip to the beach, Jack, Daddy started giving me
birth control pills. I have no idea where he got them and at that time,
I didn't know enough to ask. He just told me to take one every day like
it said, and not to forget, and most of all, to put them somewhere where
my mother wouldn't find them. I kept them in an old shoe in the back of
my closet and she never did. Daddy had explained about my period, and I
waited for it. When it seemed to be a little late, I didn't say
anything, but I was scared. It didn't seem possible that we had made a
baby in the few times we had done it. I thought about what having a baby
would be like. It would sure change our lives. I started getting really
scared. Then, finally my period started and I felt okay again. It was
only the sixth one I'd ever had, but it was the first one I'd looked
forward to.
    We made love every chance we got, Jack. He wanted to, and you
know I wanted to. As long as mother worked the late shift, it was easy.
When she worked the day shift, it was harder. Daddy had a shop behind
the garage where he fixed things up. Sometimes when my mother was home
at night, he would go out there. I used to sneak out there with him. He
had a bench that was just the right height for me to sit on and I spread
my legs apart and he could just walk right up and slip his dick into me.
I would wrap my legs around his hips while he pushed it in and out of
me, and he would unbutton my shirt and play with my breasts. I spent a
lot of time on that bench, Jack. The place where I sat is still stained.
He had a lock on the door in case my Mom ever came out, but she never
did.
    My Daddy is such an incredible lover, Jack. He taught me all the
things that a man wants from a girl and I was happy to please him. I
knew that he loved me and appreciated everything I did. I was careful to
learn everything he taught me because I wanted him to feel as good as he
made me feel.
    There's not much to tell about the next couple of years. As I
said before, we tried to do it every night, whether mother was home or
not. Some nights when she was, he would even sneak out of their bedroom
after she was asleep and come into my bedroom. Even if I was asleep, I
always woke up when Daddy came in. Whatever he wanted me to do, I loved
doing it.
    Mom never suspected anything. I was her ideal daughter. I never
stayed out late, never went around with boys, just stayed home and did
my homework. She didn't know that I lay awake late at night waiting for
Daddy to come to me and do the things he did to me until I choked to
keep from screaming and waking her up.

    She paused for a moment, but continued to massage my back with
her talented hands. I was relaxed to the point that I was dozing off but
she suddenly started talking again about her experiences and the subject
woke me up.

    The only time I did go out was when I went to some pyjama
parties. At first I enjoyed them, but after a while I didn't because the
girls were silly. They teased each other about sex. I acted like I
didn't know what they were talking about. When they started teasing me
because I was so naive, I quit going. They really didn't know anything
about it at all. I think they were all virgins, but you should have
heard them go on and on about it!
    Still, there was this one girl in my class named Jennifer who I
really got to like. One day we had planned for her to sleep over. My Mom
was working the late shift, but Daddy was home. About ten o'clock we put
on our pajamas. Jennifer was a lot more developed than I was, and she
looked older than I did. She was prettier, too. She heard the TV going
in Daddy's room and she wanted to go in there. I didn't want her to go
in, but she just went, so I had to follow her. When we got there,
Jennifer sat on the bed beside Daddy. She had unbuttoned the top button
on her PJs and was trying to show off to him. I didn't like it but
didn't know what to do about it. I knew Jennifer was really sexy and I
couldn't believe that she was sitting there trying to turn my Daddy on
while I was there too. She said things to tease him and laughed at
everything he said, but he was really just laughing at her.
    Jack, he didn't respond to her at all. She kept teasing him and
she touched him and I could see that she was trying to get him going,
but he just laughed at her and talked to me. It really made me love my
Daddy that he wouldn't play with Jennifer, but I wished she would go
home. Finally, she seemed to give up and said she was getting tired and
wanted to go to bed. I was so proud of him, Jack. I don't know what she
would have done if he had responded to her, but he just laughed at her
as if she was a child.
    When we went back to my room and got in bed, she said she wasn't
sleepy at all. Would you believe she pulled down her pyjama pants and
started playing with herself? I didn't know what to do so I just lay
there. Then she asked me if I had ever touched myself down there. I said
I didn't know what she was talking about. She begged me to take off my
clothes, Jack, she really did. She started talking real sexy and asked
to play with my breasts. She wanted me to play with hers. She actually
started feeling me up, but I told her I was too scared. She pleaded with
me, said she wanted to lick me all over, but I wouldn't let her do it.
Finally she got mad and turned her back to me. But I could feel the bed
moving and I knew she was rubbing herself.
    I thought maybe she was thinking about my Daddy and I wished
that she would get up and go home. After that night, I don't have to
tell you that I didn't like Jennifer anymore, and she never came over
again. I never got to be real friends with another girl at my school.

    I was getting turned on again thinking about Ruthie and Jennifer
in bed together. It was a sign that Ruthie was either corrupting me or
expanding my sexual awareness. I had actually been hoping that she was
about to describe a wild sex scene between two teenage girls. It crossed
my mind that I was beginning to think like her old man. I was actually
disappointed that Ruthie hadn't told me of responding to Jennifer's
touch and making love with her little friend. It was obvious that Ruthie
was changing me. For better or for worse, she was certainly changing me.
She just kept massaging me and went on.

    After that night with Jennifer, I thought that I would never
make any real friends at school. I was almost sixteen years old and my
only friend was Daddy. I'm not saying that it wasn't enough, Jack, but I
was starting to wish that I could meet someone my own age who wasn't
either too silly to talk to or too weird for me to handle.
    Right before my sixteenth birthday, I met Robert. His parents
had just moved into the neighborhood, so he didn't know anybody. He was
a year older than me and he was really good looking. I didn't come on to
him at all, Jack, but he came on to me. He started by sitting beside me
on the bus and talking to me. Then he asked me to eat my lunch with him.
Finally one day, he asked me out.
    I didn't know what to do, Jack. I hadn't told Daddy about Robert
yet and I felt that it would be cheating on him to go out with another
boy, but I really wanted to. It wasn't sex or anything like that, I just
wanted to talk to somebody my own age and I felt that I could trust
Robert.
    That night my Mom wasn't home and Daddy and I went to bed right
after dinner. I was really turned on by the things Daddy did to me, just
as I always was. But once, when he put his tongue up in my hole, I
started dreaming for just a moment about what it would feel like if
Robert had his tongue inside me. I turned off that thought real quick
and I sucked Daddy extra long that night. He was really hot when he
finally put his dick inside me and it didn't take either of us very long
to come. I thought only of my Daddy while he was inside, me but
afterwards while we cuddled, I decided I would mention Robert and see
how he reacted.
    I was lying with my back to Daddy. He had his right arm around
me and playing with my breasts but we were just in a relaxed mood after
having such good sex together. Finally I decided to go for it, so I
started off.
    "Daddy," I whispered, "there's a boy at school who wants to take
me out Friday night." Daddy's hand froze on my left breast and I knew
that I had done the wrong thing.
    "Turn around, honey," he said. I was scared now, but I turned
him and faced him. I could feel him looking inside my eyes. It felt like
he was looking right into the thoughts in my head. Finally he spoke.
    "Is he a nice boy, Ruthie?" That wasn't at all what I had
expected but I just nodded. Then he pulled me close to him and began to
play with my hair.
    "Sweetheart, if you want to go out with him, then go. I don't
want you feeling you can't have friends your own age, even boyfriends."
He was silent for a minute then said something that really scared me.
"Ruthie," he said, still looking into my eyes. "There is a time for
everything to happen. There was a time for us and it was good. If this
is the time for us to stop what we have been doing, then this is the
time. I never want to come between you and what your life will be,
sweetheart. I just want you to know that I will always love you no
matter what."
    Then I was crying and hugging my Daddy and begging him to
understand that I only wanted him, no one else. I tried to go down and
put him in my mouth to show him, but he wouldn't let me do it. He didn't
say a word but he just held me in his arms. I felt so protected and safe
that I swore that I would never mention Robert again. I just kept crying
and whispering, "I love you, Daddy" and he just kept holding me. I must
have finally gone to sleep in his arms because I awoke, he was carrying
me to bed.
    He put me down gently and kissed me. There was no sex in the
kiss, just a fatherly kiss full of love. But I grabbed his neck and
pulled him to me. The kiss changed to the kind I wanted, but when we
parted, he whispered, "There is a time for everything, Ruthie, and
you'll know when it comes." I cried myself to sleep.
    But after school the next day when we got off the bus, Robert
asked me to take a walk with him, and I did. We talked about all kinds
of things and I really began to like him a lot. Finally we got back
home. It was still light but on my front porch he kissed me on the cheek
and told me he had really enjoyed talking to me. I didn't kiss him back,
Jack, but I wanted to.
    Mama was home that night. For a long time after we went to bed,
I lay awake waiting for Daddy, but he didn't come. Of course, he didn't
come often when my Mom was home, but I needed him tonight. He had really
scared me when he talked about it being time for me to find someone
else. That's not what I had meant at all. I think that if he had come to
my room that night, then all the stuff with Robert wouldn't have
happened.
    But he didn't come and after a while I started thinking about
Robert. He was really good looking and he wasn't silly at all. He was
interesting to talk to. I felt guilty about it but that night I played
with myself and dreamed about Robert making love to me instead of Daddy.
I didn't get to sleep until very late.
    The next day was Friday, and I was supposed to go out with
Robert that night. I didn't know what to do. I felt I was cheating on
Daddy but I really wanted to go out with Robert. I was so upset that I
cut my last class and walked home from school, trying to think things
out.
    Daddy wasn't home yet so I started dinner. Robert had told me
that he would be there about seven-thirty. I really didn't know if I was
going to go or not. I didn't know what was right for me to do.
    I didn't hear Daddy come in. I was at the sink and he snuck up
behind me and kissed my ear. My hands were wet but I turned around and
grabbed him. I gave him my very best kiss and he returned it -- but he
didn't go any further. He finally backed off and turned away from me so
I couldn't look at him. He played with something in the refrigerator.
Finally he spoke.
    "So, honey, are you excited about your first real date?" He
sounded lighthearted, but then he turned and looked at me. I thought I
saw pain in his eyes for a moment, but if I did, it was gone in an
instant. Then he laughed and grabbed me in his arms.
    "Ruthie, go. And have a good time, sweetheart. What time is he
coming for you?"
    For once I was disappointed in him. I wanted him to tell me that
he didn't want me to go and to pick me up in his arms and carry me to
bed and undress me. To be truthful, I was mad at him right then.
    "Seven-thirty," I said. We didn't talk to much at dinner. I was
too upset to talk. It still would have taken only one word from Daddy
for me to run to the telephone and tell Robert I couldn't go. He didn't
mention it any more. Finally I that decided that if Daddy didn't care if
I went, then I would just go.
    I was still mad at Daddy so I went up and put on a short skirt
and a blouse that was too small for me. Daddy noticed what I had on but
didn't say a word. It really hurt me because I still wanted him to stop
me, Jack. If he had said