Farley took us all by surprise when she announced a team was going to visit us for a game of basketball. None of us had spared the game a thought in over a week, we hadn't practiced, and to be herded onto the court by her without warning didn't help. Our warehouse had been crowded with eager soldiers for several evenings in a row and we were tired, our jaw muscles ached, walking and sitting gave us difficulty. How could we defend ourselves against a pack of virgins with nothing better to do than throw balls through hoops?
At the same time we didn't care to lose. Eva particularly wanted to avoid that. "If we play them according to the rules we're going to be trounced," she told us in a pre-game meeting. "We have to face it, none of us is ready for this game. Winning is out of the question, losing is no fun, so I suggest we try to lead the visiting team astray. As soon as they get here bring them over to my place. I'll offer them drinks- soft drinks, of course, but I'll add a little dash of something to make them more… well, adventurous. That should make it fun, right?"
According to plan, then, we led the visiting team to Farley's house. We had two hours before the game was due to begin and the other girls looked frightfully ready. There were eight of them chaperoned by their coach, a middle-aged woman with a short, swept-back hairdo and severe clothes. She introduced herself as Beth and when asked what she would like to drink she said: "Orange juice, please, but not the frozen kind."
"Coming right up," said Farley with a wink to us. Vodka and orange, a perfect combination. Farley mixed the drinks in the kitchen and passed them to all the girls but I noticed she took care to pass one particular glass to the coach. "It may taste a little strange," she said, "because it has a special vitamin supplement."
"Nothing illegal, I take it?" Beth inquired archly.
"Oh no, just some E and B, that's all." The other girls were eyeing us curiously, assessing each one of us as a potential opponent, and I had to work at keeping a straight face because I felt less like an opponent than ever! I was a lover, not a fighter, and there were several girls who excited me in their group. One of them was a stone dyke, no two ways about it. She had her hair cut like the coach and she wore a plaid shirt and baggy jeans with work boots. There was a small patch sewn into the crotch of her jeans and I couldn't quite make out what it said. When I leaned closer to read it, the dyke moved forward, opened her legs, and pushed her crotch out at me with a lecherous grin. "Eat Me!" it said on the patch, and a big red, wet tongue was right below it as if to illustrate the suggestion.
In spite of myself I blushed and looked away, which made the dyke grin triumphantly. She thought she had our number but was she in for a surprise! I could hardly wait for the vodka to take effect. Beth's tongue was thickening already and she slurred her words just enough for us to notice. "Could I have another one of those vitamin-enriched orange juices?" she asked, holding up her empty glass. "You're right, it does taste strange but it has such a pleasant after-effect that it's quite bearable,"
"Anyone else for more?" asked Farley sweetly. She was the perfect host, so lovely and cool, so very attentive, and I could see she was attracting the attention of the young dyke, too. The other girls in their team stayed away from the dyke and the coach, but that meant they had to huddle together and that didn't seem to bother them. The evening was shaping up to have a lot of potential, and I had a hearty swig myself to get the blood flowing. So much sex had come my way in the past few days that I needed a little extra to get the edge on my appetite.
"Gee, this is strange," muttered Beth. She had her hand to her forehead and her eyes closed. "It must be a dizzy spell." She took a long sip of her orange juice to get over it, and then someone said something only remotely funny but funny enough to make her burst out laughing. Farley looked at me and nodded. I refilled my drink and when I went back to my seat I changed direction and went over to sit beside Beth. The young dyke was on my other side and the moment I sat down she moved closer to me. I ignored her and started talking to the coach about basketball, "I don't know," she said after a long question, "but I'd sure like another one of these orange juices."
"What's in those drinks?" asked the young dyke. Her name, as it turned out, was Margaret, and she had a suspicious nature. "Are you guys trying to get us drunk before the game?"
"Certainly not!" said Farley before I could answer. "We're drinking the same as you are, aren't we? I'm insulted that you should ask such a question."
"There's something in this all right," said Beth, holding her empty glass up to the light coining through the window, "and I want more!" She got it promptly and then Margaret gave in. She was almost on my lap by the time the Colonel walked in. He took one look at the dozen or so girls in his living room and went into his den. "Who's that? Is he your hunk?" she asked Farley.
"In a way, yes," she said. Some of the other girls cooed how handsome he was but Margaret didn't like that kind of talk. She took my hand and placed it on her thigh, pressing it down so I would know it was a deliberate gesture, and then she gave me a hard look. She was such a boy! With a few drinks to blur my perception I had to remind myself that she was a girl and that there were big breasts, not muscles, tinder her plaid shirt. But she was doing a very macho number on me, lighting my cigarette, spinning me a line, and running her fingers over the back of my hand absently while she tried to talk me into going to bed with her. I found myself enjoying this kind of treatment immensely. All I had to do was sit there and play coy, Margaret would do all the rest. For the first time I realized what a fortunate position women are in. Men must struggle, provide, be witty and courageous, well groomed, well dressed, and worldly, but all a' woman has to do is keep her pussy clean and the world will nestle happily in the palm of her hand.
"You're really a great-looking chick," Margaret told me. "I could go for a chick like you, you know that? Yeah, I dig blondes a lot. Is it true you all have more fun?" Margaret's hair was dark brown and her eyebrows were heavy; such a boy, I kept thinking! She moved boyishly, talked with her voice forcibly kept lower than it really was, and she flicked her ashes at the ashtray from a long distance the way men do when they're trying to impress. She thrilled me with her act and I played up to her shamelessly. No man had ever treated me so well.
"Why, thank you," I said, staring over her shoulder. The other girls were becoming friendlier, unwinding, taking off shoes, and on my other side the coach was trying to get my attention. Margaret had to work hard to keep my interest because Beth was doing her utmost to strike up a conversation with me. It seemed she liked blondes, too. "I always like to make friends."
"I'm not talking about being friends, baby," said Margaret. "What I want to get through to you is something very different In short, I'd like to fuck your ass off!" She delivered the last line coolly, watching to see what sort of reaction it would produce. And when I stared at her uncomprehendingly she grinned and went on: "That knocked you out of your socks, right? Well, don't worry about a thing, baby, just let me take care of the details."
"I'm sorry but I have to go now." I got up, knowing full well that she wouldn't let me escape. Her hand grabbed me by the waistband of my jeans and tugged me back onto the couch, and I had to struggle to keep from laughing out loud. She delighted me, the game delighted me, and I wanted to surrender just so she could carry me over into the next stage. But first I had to knock some of her self-confidence for a loop, and to that end I went along with her game a little longer.
"I want to eat your pussy," she whispered, her arm about my neck and her face right up to my ear. "I want to stick my tongue right in it and suck out your juice and then I'm going to lick your asshole and finger you until you come like a volcano! And then I'm going to fuck you like nobody else can fuck you. How do you like them apples, you beautiful thing?"
"But you're a girl!" I protested.
"You don't believe I can fuck you?"
"No!" I had fallen into her trap. Her next line dovetailed into mine so perfectly that I couldn't think how to wriggle out. Around us the party was getting rougher by the minute. My team, being familiar with the ways of female love, were making advances at the other team, not caring that they were roundly outnumbered. And Beth, the sturdy coach, kept trying to feel me up no matter how hard Margaret tried to monopolize me.
"Then let me show you." Her hand traveled down to my breasts and moved in between the buttons to get at the naked flesh. I shivered and tried to pull away, but that only brought me closer to Beth. The coach started to run her hand up and down the leg of my dungarees and her hot breath brushed along the arch of my neck as she crept closer and closer. The two women were closing in on me like a vise, and for a moment I experienced a weird panic, a pre-rape anxiety that only disappeared when I realized we were surrounded by friends. Besides, how often did a girl like me get herself seduced? I sat back and made myself as comfortable as possible, giving them the sign that their hands could go anywhere without interference from me. And they took advantage of that right away. Beth grabbed hold of my crotch and tried to arouse my clitoris through the stiff denim. Margaret forced the buttons of my blouse undone right to the belt, and moved the garment out of the way so that my tits stuck right out. With a groan she sank down on them and licked them all over with such relish that I couldn't stop from expressing my own pleasure.
"Oh, that's so nice!" I whispered, arching my back so as to present my tits to her more openly. She started to concentrate on my nipples, working my tits up to the point at which they seemed about to take off! I hardly noticed that Beth was undoing my dungarees, but when she had the belt and zip undone I dutifully lifted my ass so she could slide them off my hips.
They had stripped me naked and the pace of their lovemaking became more intense. Somehow they managed to get their own clothes off without stopping, and it was heavenly to be mauled and kissed all over all at once. Beth's body was surprisingly voluptuous. Her butch hairdo and the stern set of her face was in direct contrast to her large, soft tits, her small waist and lush hips. But Margaret was a little dyke from head to foot, a tough boy's body, no tits, a lot of hair between her legs, and the slender muscles of her body were well defined. She was tanned without interruption and Beth was white all over, and the contrast between the two made it all the more exciting for me. I could reach out and fondle a set of big white tits or a pair of tanned nipples, big soft thighs or slender, muscular ones, it was up to me. But for the time being I did nothing. The two women were working me over like high-priced masseuses, kissing, squeezing, caressing me lightly or titillating me shamelessly.
"Hey, how about leaving her to me," Margaret said bitchily when she wanted to get at my pussy and found Beth there already.
"I saw her first," said the coach, and with that she sank her face into my cunt and thrust her tongue into my cunt with such force that I let out a long, involuntary cry. "See, she likes me. So get out of here."
"You saw her first! I spotted her right away and she's mine. But I'm not going to argue with you, you old swine, let's ask her."
"Do what you want," I said dreamily. "This is just beautiful!"
"In that case, share and share alike," said Beth, displaying her maturity. Margaret shrugged and accepted the situation for what it was. She went back to my tits and worked on them with a vengeance. She was still angry but that worked to my advantage. The way she licked and sucked, nibbled and bit, blended in perfectly with the tongue-fucking I was getting downstairs. And then, lost in that dream of lust and eroticism, I became a hoop perched high up a pole, yearning for a ball to drop through me but unable to be of help to the players. Down the other end of the court Margaret and Beth were dribbling, dodging, weaving, trying to get through a heavy defensive screen, coming close and heightening my expectations, being repelled and causing me to be depressed, but constantly working. I wanted that ball to drop through my hole so badly that it drove me giddy. The frustrations of being just a hoop fixed to the top of a pole made me shake with anger and desire. I wanted to yell out to Beth and Margaret that they should try for a long shot, anything, anything, just get that ball into my hole!
They worked so hard. At one point they were right near me and every part of me stood on edge waiting to receive that ball. But no, they were sent back to the center of the court. I began to doubt that they would ever succeed, Beth almost lost the ball at one point, and Margaret had to scramble to keep it in possession. And then, with a miraculous burst of speed and agility, Margaret turned, twisted, ducked through a gap in the defense, and leaped high into the air. I watched her as she floated up, the ball held high, her eyes fixed on me, floating higher than anyone I had ever seen and moving in so close I could hear her heart beat-to dunk that ball right through the center-SLAM!-for total fulfillment.
As I went through the contortions of my climax the two women kept up their barrage of stimuli to ease me in and out, and when I wanted to lie there and revel in the echoes they left me alone to do just that. The coach rolled over on the floor and began masturbating with practiced ease. Margaret rubbed her pussy too, but she was watching me and waiting for me to be ready for the next level.
"You're hot," she whispered. "I've never seen a chick take to this shit so quickly. Are you sure it's your first time?"
"Yes, positive," I lied. The others had been infected by us, it seemed, because there was a tangle of naked bodies on the other side of the room from which arose gasps and squeals and a lot of very wet noises. I couldn't make out who was doing whom, but it didn't matter. As long as they were all having fun I could have mine. 'The two of you just destroyed me. Do you all ways work together?"
"Never." Margaret threw Beth a dirty look. 'That old bitch is always trying to muscle in, though, she can't get enough young ass to keep her happy I guess. She's not a bad piece herself but she really is too pushy. However, that's not what I want to get into. I promised to fuck your ass off and that's just what I'm going to do,"
"You are?" A ripple of bliss ran through me. "But how?" Margaret didn't answer. She made me stretch out along the couch with my back up high against the armrest and my legs spread wide apart. Then she assumed the same position, only she put one leg over the corresponding one and one under the other. We were scissored now, and her ass came over toward mine with the intention of doing lewd things to me. That hairy mound pressed into mine, and after she had propped herself up Margaret reached down and opened her pussy up with two fingers. I found myself staring directly into its pinkness but it took me a while to work out what was wrong with what I saw. Something was out of place, and finally it hit home: there, just above the florid pink inner lips, was a little staff that stood up from its fleshy bed, upright and an inch long! "Holy shit!"
"You like it?" She grinned at me and played with her extraordinary clitoris to make it even harder. "It can do what a nine-inch man can't begin to do." That sounded like a hell of a boast to me but I let it slide. She moved right in now and worked our pussies together so that her clitoris touched mine. It was a wild, intoxicating moment, one in which my clit seemed to expand to the same length. Both of us watched our cunts as they kissed with smacking lips, both of us intent on guiding our clits and getting the most out of them. But then Margaret took over again, moving that amazing stalk toward my cunt's hole and penetrating it with a quick jolt of her loins.
"WWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWW!!" I yelled. I couldn't get over the idea that there was a girl fucking me, piercing me, driving a phallic object right into my cunt! My cunt was forced to contract to get a hold of her clit, and that made the experience all the finer. She and I had to work equally hard, Margaret gripped the couch and pushed her cunt at mine so hard that her pubic bone ground into my clitoral area, and when she pulled back the trapped air of our cunts exploded out with a ripping sound. And I lay back and let her do whatever she wanted. The ecstasy of it all flooded my system and filled my head with a deep red swirl of bliss that carried me off into very weird regions. Sloppy cunts blurted and burped, her clitoris ran in and out of my tightened cunt muscles, she was panting and grunting, and on the floor next to us Beth drove a bunch of fingers up her own cunt while she kept her face right near the area where our pussies met. After a while Margaret and I settled into a very smooth and mellow routine. Her pussy moved back and forth in opposite time to mine, and it was the delicious sensation of her clit caressing my oversensitive entrance along with my cunt muscles jerking off her clit that brought us to one climax after another. Great waves of sexual joy took us on their crests and, like surfers, we rode each one out to the beach before paddling out to take the next one. We surfed until we were too tired to paddle anymore, and then we lay still as if basking in the sun.
But of course we were indoors and it was getting dark outside. The living room, once so orderly and clean, was now littered with naked bodies and empty bottles. Farley was sound asleep between two girls from the opposing team, a few of the girls were smoking and drinking, and the rest were resting or in the last throes of lovemaking. The coach was snoring at the foot of the couch, and when Margaret and I decided to wet our whistles we took great care not to disturb her.
"This is the best game we've ever played," declared Margaret in the privacy of the kitchen. "The only trouble is, how will we decide who won and who lost?"
"That's easy." I mixed the vodka and orange, added an ice cube, and took a sip. "We see who is still awake and the team with the most alert people takes the prize."
"Fair enough." We walked back into the living room and counted heads. It came to a draw. "Well, we'll just have to have a rematch," sighed Margaret.
It took me half an hour or so to realize someone was missing. The whole room seemed to be asleep by this time and I was on the point of nodding off, too. But then I wondered how Janet had been doing and when I tried to find her she was not there! T wondered how she had managed to slip away. She must have disappeared when the orgy was at its peak because before and after that it was too quiet for anyone to have left without being noticed. Why did she do it? Janet loved this kind of partying better than most of us. I couldn't work it out, but I did decide it would be better for me to leave, too. When those girls came round there would be hangovers and guilt and recriminations, and I wasn't in the mood for any of that. Quickly I slipped into my clothes and out of the house.
By the time I got home I wasn't too happy. The team was going downhill fast, and our latest "match" had proved that we couldn't withstand the lures of the flesh. I grinned in spite of myself. The lures of the flesh! I was beginning to talk like Marcie's father, the chaplain. No, it was just post-coital depression, nothing to worry about. I walked up the stairs to my room but outside my parent's bedroom door I paused sharply. Something was going on in there, something to do with sex. I yawned and moved on. It was either my father with Ma or Ma with Evert. In either case that couldn't hold my attention for long. I decided to go straight to bed and to sleep off the remains of the party. But, after I had taken off my clothes, I decided to take a little peek just the same. I perched on the chair and looked through the ventilation grill-and almost fell off!
My father was in there, his back hunched, his buttocks flexing as he drove thrust after thrust into Janet. Her lithe black body labored under him, getting the maximum out of every stroke, caressing him, digging her fingernails into Ms ass, and her little cries reached me like a familiar tune. That no-good double-dealing bitch! How could she do this to me? She must have slipped out of the party and gone directly to my place own house! I snuck downstairs and peered into Evert's window. There was Evert, his back hunched and his buttocks flexing to drive his cock deep into my mother's mouth. I went back to my room, closed the door, turned off lights, and pulled the covers over my head to block out the world. But now that I knew what was going on, there was nothing I could do about it. Every sound made perfect sense and carried with it a clear image of what had produced it. Those little wet noises showed me Daddy's dick delving into Janet's magenta and pink pussy, the tiny moans her open mouth as it gasped for breath, his grunts depicted a bull in the middle of a charge, and the more I heard and saw, the worse it became.
There I was, all alone in my bed while my parents were fucking their brains out. This was almost as bad as Peyton Place! My best friend had stolen my Daddy away, Ma was in bed with the batman, and none of them cared a fig about me! Worse, they wouldn't quit! Daddy fucked on and on, and Janet cried out in ecstasy over and over until I wanted to stuff a pillow down her throat to shut her up. What was the matter with him? He had been fucking when I came in and they kept on fucking for a quarter of an hour, half an hour, three-quarters-and no sign of anyone slowing down!
I couldn't even masturbate. My cunt was hot and the sensory nerves had reached their absolute refractory phase. Touching it was a joyless experience. My nipples were at the same level, and so all I could do was try to go to sleep. Impossible with all those noises coming through the ventilator grill. I resolved to block it up with concrete or putty the next day. Privacy was more important than knowing what was going on next door. No more sex, no more snooping, my life was going to revolve around basketball and perhaps I'd put some effort into bolstering my sagging grades. Yes sir, that's what I would do.
But in the morning things looked much brighter. Asceticism was all very well and in time I might become a basketball-nun, but not just yet. I woke up feeling all horny and tingly, and when my hands moved down to my pussy it responded by emitting the most delicate thrills to all parts of my body. "Mmmmmmm-mm!" I groaned, rolling over on my belly and moving my hips so that my cunt crushed into the restless fingers. What dreams I had had! "Oooohhhhhh!" through pursed lips, marveling at the intensity of the feelings my groping stirred up. I had been the tunnel and the train had had a familiar face. Who? I didn't pursue the thought but luxuriated in the pleasure welling up in my loins. The bedclothes became oppressive and I kicked them off so that my naked body lay exposed to the early morning sun and the mellow breeze coming through the open windows. One hand at my Pussy, the other on a breast, fingering and squeezing, rubbing nipple and clit until a fiery connection had been established between them. Solo fun. I didn't feel the need for anyone at that moment, perfectly content to rub myself into a state of high-pitched ecstasy.
I even got off the bed and stood before the full-length mirror to watch as I made love to myself. What could replace these pleasures? "When I thought of basketball now it only made me want to yawn. I was free to do what I wanted wife this shapely body, to give it to whoever I wanted to take me, to use it for my own devious purposes. A surge of power rushed through me to leaven the rising passions. Look at those tits, I thought, lifting them in both hands and standing so close to the mirror that my nipples touched the cold glass. What man wouldn't like to get hold of them? Didn't they look just like the knockers you saw in girlie magazines? And what an ass! I turned sideways and looked at my body in profile, impressed with the long, smooth lines, the jutting buttocks, yes, just like a centerfold. I hugged myself gleefully and fell back on the bed to masturbate in earnest, fingering, poking, licking the juice of the dipping finger before pushing it back into the oily channel of my cunt, kneading my breasts, and writhing about on the bed in a bid to accommodate all those conflicting desires. It felt as though a whole bunch of orgasms were shifting around inside me like so many unborn children, all fighting to get out, and I labored furiously to give them an outlet. Digging, fingering, groaning, almost crying with frustration, I managed to bring myself to one climax after another, discharging those bottled-up orgasms like a Gatling gun, and when the last one popped out I floated about euphorically, headed for more sleep.
"What on earth were you doing?" The sound of a male voice made me jump up in fright. Daddy stood at the door, a bewildered expression on his face, and at that moment I realized that his was the face that had haunted my dreams. "You weren't playing with yourself, were you?"
"Er… " I didn't know what to say. The bedclothes were on the floor, the sheet was rumpled and moist with sweat, my pussy hair was wet and matted, and I was stark naked. What could I have been doing? "No, I was just doing calisthenics," I said uncertainly.
"What for, to develop your breasts?" Daddy's sarcastic tone of voice left little doubt that he had seen enough. "Listen, little girl, playing with yourself is playing with fire. You're too young for this sort of thing-wait a few years, then you'll know more about it." He closed the door behind him and sat on the bed, right next to me. I didn't move. My head was in a turmoil. I wanted him to be with me but I also wanted him to leave so I could shower and dress and put everything else behind me. And I didn't understand why he should come into my room when I was naked. He hadn't done that in years, not since I developed breasts. But there he was, sitting very close and looking right at me. "Perhaps you've got questions on the matter," said Daddy. "A parent has to be responsive so if you need help all you have to do is ask me."
"No, I'm all right. Daddy." He looked gorgeous to me. He was freshly groomed and had on all of his uniform except for the jacket. His athletic physique, his after-shave lotion, all made me want to get up really close, to hug him and press my naked body against him, to create wet little stains on his immaculate uniform with my mouth and cunt, and to see a non-uniform bulge in his pants. Instead of giving in I sat with my back against the headboard of my bed and casually spread my legs so that my cunt was pointing at him with its lips slightly parted. He couldn't help but glance down there a few times. I would look up at the ceiling and then quickly peer at him, and sure enough, his eyes would be browsing through my pubic hair. And he showed no signs of wanting to leave my room, either.
A bulge began to rise slowly. At first I thought it was my imagination but pretty soon it was all too clear. Daddy knew it, too, and he shifted about, recrossed his legs, and rested his arms on his lap to conceal it. He kept talking to me about birds and bees, and all the while his eyes wandered from my crotch to my tits, to my eyes and back to my thighs. I could feel a trickle of juice seeping out of my pussy and knew that if he looked close enough he'd see that whitish dribble. Then he would know how I felt about him. Yes, he would know that I wanted desperately to make love with him! I could admit it to myself now, perhaps because there was no escaping the realization. Daddy was within touching distance, all I had to do was throw myself about his neck and offer my body to him, and he would crack. But what if he didn't? Then I would have blown it permanently.
"There's so much I don't know about boys, Daddy," I said when his rambling talk had come to an end. "The few that I've spent any time with have always wanted to… you know… touch me."
"Where?" he said, nervously lighting a cigarette.
"Oh, they like to touch my breasts a lot," I touched them in order to illustrate my point, squeezing them and cupping them, and Daddy looked a little faint. "But I tell them not to touch me there because it's not right. So you know what they try then? They want to touch me right here." My hand covered my pussy briefly and I ran a finger along the slit in order to open my lips up wider. He couldn't see that finger because I kept it hidden behind my hand, but he could certainly see the pink flesh.
"Very good," he said, and now he couldn't take his eyes off my cunt even though he must have known I was looking right at him. "You're still a virgin, I take it?"
"Oh Daddy, of course!"
"It's not that I don't trust you, baby, but I have to be sure of that. Now I don't want you to mention this to your mother because she worries about matters of that sort. I don't want you to even talk about sex to her. But let me make sure for the sake of my own peace of mind."
"How can you make sure?" I didn't follow him at all now. Was there a way of telling a virgin from a non-virgin? If that was the case, I was sunk. "Can't you take my word for it?"
"Oh sure, but as I said, a father likes to know for sure." He put his cigarette out and kneeled by the side of the bed. "Just part your legs as wide as possible and close your eyes," he said. I did as he told me except that I kept looking through my lashes. Daddy bent over my pussy and his longest finger moved into the pink, moist flesh. Could he tell now how excited I was? Or had he discovered that I had lied to him, that a nine-inch cock had passed that way before his finger? I held my breath and waited for his verdict.
He fingered me for a long time, peering into my cunt and breathing heavily. "Yes, very good," he said without taking his finger out. "I can see you are still a virgin. That comes as a great relief to me. Okay, sorry to have put you through this, Renee, but you'll be a parent someday and then you'll understand."
"Yes, Daddy," I said, but I understood him right there and then. The sly old bastard. That was no virginity test, that was just his way of having fun. When he left my room he walked unsteadily and I followed him to the door to see where he would go. As I expected he went right into the bathroom and came out several minutes later without that bulge in his pants.
I lay back down on my bed and recaptured the delicious sensation of his finger in me, and I felt very happy. Daddy wanted me as much as I wanted him. The question now was: how could we overcome our fears to get at each other?