Turner Way
Thursday
Ashley slapped her phone, but the GPS didn’t seem to mind it. Darn thing might even be enjoying it. She’d been adrift for an hour now, looking for the sign proclaiming the turnoff. So few of the roads were labeled this deep in the country—if roads they were rather than driveways to houses so far off they were hidden through the trees. She hadn’t seen a paved road in hours.
Once again, she couldn’t help wondering if this weekend getaway was a mistake.
Kate was one of her oldest friends. They’d known each other since forever, gone through their life together until graduation had dragged them apart. Both strong students, but with different passions, passions which sent them to colleges in different corners of the country. Three years in, they talked less than they used to, and even during breaks it seemed one or the other was always called away for internships, summer school, or just living their new lives. Ashley had a boyfriend, too, finally one who she hoped might be the one, but despite being together for all of sophomore year and junior year this far, Ashley had somehow never even managed to introduce him to Kate.
Once upon a time, the girls had been so close that Kate had insisted on veto authority for anyone Ashley dated. Ashley had insisted she insist. It would have been two-way if Kate had more interest in boys herself, but she’d always been a student first, everything else second. Ashley felt confident she could handle herself in a classroom, but they both knew Kate possessed potential few women had.
Growing up only down the street and around the corner, the girls had been so close that Kate’s mother, Bre, liked to call Ashley her third daughter. Ashley and her own mother liked this less, but then, a beautiful blonde A and B student like Ashley was quite the prize for parental bragging rights, especially compared to her doofus baby brother—emphasis on baby. And doofus, but same thing. Kate’s mom also insisted that she was Bre, never Ms. Donner. It made Ashley a little uncomfortable, and it seldom went over very well with Kate’s acerbic little sister Grace. None of her friends got the family treatment. If the hellion had any. She was disengaged by habit, and when she had no choice but to cohabitate, tight-lipped at best unless there was a good opening to say something mean.
Regardless, Kate and Grace’s mother was very fond of young Ashley. She was a strict but loving woman who prided herself on her work ethic even though she could have easily found a new husband to help support her and the girls. She might be pushing forty, but try telling that to her body. Ashley was already dreading being side by side with the woman in their swimwear. (Come to think of it, was this lake the sort you swam in, or sailed on? Ashley didn’t know.) The college girl was confident in her own looks, but tight and toned never seemed to pass muster like busty bombshell.
(Not that Ashley got a lot of complaints. She knew she was, as she’d been described over and over and over in her life, cute as a button.)
Kate had invited her this weekend to reconnect. Ashley had been desperate for just that. She only wished they were doing it with the two of them, and not trying to drag her into some family outing. It wasn’t her family.
Finally, with the sun nearing the horizon, Ashley barely didn’t miss a hand-painted wooden sign nailed to a tree. Turner Way, it proclaimed. Kate had described it, but, well, a wooden sign on a wooden tree in the woods…? It was easy to overlook. Ashley turned with a sigh of relief, a sigh that was muted swiftly when she realized the road wasn’t even a real road, merely two tire tracks with a strip of grass between them. The grass hadn’t been mowed in some time, slapping against Ashley’s fender as she pressed on.
The brakes skidded a bit when Ashley rounded a bend and found herself suddenly face to face with the cabin. The foliage was so thick, the wooded path so dark, she’d nearly collided with Kate’s car parked in front. In front of hers was her mother’s and beside it a third one she didn’t recognize. Was little Grace driving that? Must be. It looked fancy, though Ashley didn’t really know much about cars.
The cabin itself was everything Kate had promised, though. For all one might expect something rustic this far past the middle of nowhere, it was modern, clean and even stylish. The log cabin exterior was an aesthetic, not a reality, Kate had said. Ashley had glanced at the rental site, seen a few photos of the interior. It looked pretty posh. The last bit of sunlight sparkled across the water only a stone’s throw from the cabin’s back deck. Not a single light that Ashley could see around the lake’s perimeter. Out here, for all intents and purposes, Ashley and Kate and Kate’s family were the only people on earth.
Suppressing the voice inside her head that said this was the kind of place where horror movies were set, Ashley snatched her suitcase out of the trunk and lugged it up the steps to the front door. This is going to be fun, she told herself. You haven’t seen Bre since last summer, and Grace in even longer. Maybe the brat’s finally grown up. It will get intense, probably, but Kate will be there, too. Tonight, then Friday, Saturday and part of Sunday, so even if Bre is in one of her motherly moods, you only have to weather it for a few days. This will be fun. It will.
Ashley reached for the door. The Donners had granted her the privilege to enter their home unannounced when the girls were in third grade. That privilege extended all the way out here, didn’t it? After all, it was only the girls out here, so not like she’d walk in on—
The door swung open right ahead of Ashley’s hand. By reflex, she chased it, and almost bumped into the man standing in the doorway. He had the doorknob in one hand, and an ice cream cone in the other. It looked well-licked.
“Ashley!” he exclaimed.
“Uh, do I have the right, um…?” Ashley frowned at him. Who the hell was this? She’d never seen him before in her life. Too old for Kate and Grace, but probably too young for their mother. His beard was scraggly in a way that suggested it couldn’t not be, and he was doughy around the midsection if not quite fat. Thick glasses, and thick fingers on the hand he was extending to young Ashley, who, despite her question, knew this was the right place. The man knew her name, after all. Somehow.
The man didn’t answer. He simply held his hand out to her, and waited. She tried to peer around him. That nagging voice in her head had gone straight from worries about how Bre and Grace might make this four-day weekend feel like four months, to insisting this man had murdered the Donner’s after torturing Ashley’s name out of them. Oh god, was she next on his list?
“Daddy? Is that Ashley?” came a voice from deeper in the house. Kate. Alive! Good old Kate, always being alive when her friend visited. Thank god.
Then the other piece of it forced its way past her relief.
Daddy?
Still he said nothing. Still he held his hand out.
So, after a long, creepy moment, Ashley accepted his offer and shook it.
He was smiling now. Had he been smiling before? “Come on in, Ashley. Katy’s told me a lot about you, though now I wonder if she was even trying to do you justice. My, but you are a lovely young woman.”
“Um, thanks,” Ashley muttered. Creep, she added mentally. Evidently “Katy” hadn’t told him how she felt about being called Katy, either.
Shit, though—a new dad?! Had she really not spoken to Kate in so long that she’d missed her mother’s entire courtship? Ashley couldn’t remember her even dating after Kate’s jerkwad dad ran off with his secretary all those years ago. Ashley hadn’t seen him since elementary school—and good riddance. “Who needs ’em?” Bre had always said.
Then Kate was there, peeking around the shoulder of this remarkably unremarkable fellow. “Ashley! I was starting to worry you couldn’t find us!”
“I almost didn’t,” Ashley answered as her friend gave her a hug. “My GPS lost signal forever ago, so I’ve been wandering around… You know, it doesn’t matter. I’m here now. Missed you.”
Kate hugged her back, then stood aside and smiled brightly at the stranger in their midst. Stranger to Ashley, anyway. From that smile, Kate seemed to know him pretty well. “Daddy, this is my friend Ashley, the one I’ve been describing to you. Ashley, this is my new stepdad!”
Describing…? Weird way of putting it. “Yeah, hi. I, um, sorta figured when she called you… yeah.”
The man smiled at her. Ashley wished she’d worn more clothing, and she was in a sweatshirt and her loose-fitting jeans. Kate split her own grin between the two.
“Daddy? Is it OK if Ashley sleeps in my room?”
“Of course, Katykins. In fact, why don’t you take her suitcase down there while she makes herself at home?”
Kate—apparently a.k.a. Katykins, a.k.a. the girl who’d told one of their middle school teachers she’d go to the school board and have him fired if he called her Katy a single ‘nother time—snatched up Ashley’s suitcase and dragged it into the house past her stepdad, who finally moved to clear the doorway.
“Thanks, Daddy!” Kate craned her neck up to him; he barely inclined his chin, even when his eldest stepdaughter pressed her lips to his.
And… stayed there…? Who the hell kissed their stepdad like that outside of pornhub?!
Kate finally ended the kiss, then rushed deeper into the rental house, leaving Ashley in her dust. Her speed might have been a result of the slap on the ass he gave her as she passed.
Ashley tried to keep her eyes in her head. Who was this man, who’d taken Kate Donner, president and treasurer of their senior class, and now had her doting on him and calling him “daddy?” She bit her tongue, looking forward to an opportunity to ask her friend about this intriguing development in private. As Bre’s new husband invited her into the cabin with a sweep of his arm, Ashley could feel his eyes on her behind as she entered.
“Welcome home, Ashley.”
Who indeed.
Ashley only felt more overdressed as she received a brief tour after being greeted by the rest of Kate’s family. She’d thought her friend was underdressed for male companionship, trading her usual bargain chic attire for a one-piece swimsuit with shorts hanging loosely over her rear. (The girl’s shorts were so brief that their looseness hadn’t been readily apparent until she was given ample opportunity to study them as Kate bent over the center island in the kitchen while helping prepare dinner.) Bre and Grace were dressed nearly to match, too.
As for Grace, she’d elected to pack that too-sexy (and, since they’d last crossed paths, newly barely legal) body of hers in a two-piece so skimpy that her nipple piercings would have been immediately obvious even if Ashley hadn’t known about them. Kate had extorted her bigtime to not spill the beans to their mother, but the cat must have positively shredded that bag now. The straps on her bottoms emerged from her shorts to ride high up on her hips. It was the same in the back, which revealed itself to be a thong bikini.
Bre had stuck to a one-piece like Kate, matching swimsuits aside from how much more work Bre’s was doing to hold those things in place. There was a lot of her squishing out of it. Ashley thought she remembered Kate’s mom showing cleavage, once, at a house party she’d let Kate throw to celebrate her graduating high school after eight semesters on the honor roll. Then one of Kate’s uncle’s had teased her about it, and she’d changed into a turtleneck immediately.
Apparently her second husband brought out the bold in her.
Ashley’s arrival had interrupted dinner preparation, so for the moment, the story could wait. She was famished. Ashley rolled up her sleeves and offered to pitch in. Once everyone finished readying dinner—or rather, once Bre and Kate and Ashley readied dinner while Grace curled up on the living room sofa to watch a James Bond movie with her head on her stepdad’s lap—the family gathered at the kitchen table. By then, it had been so long that Ashley’s hope to ask questions in private had been crushed by the sheer enormity of her curiosity.
“So. I have to say, I was not expecting this,” Ashley said, gesturing to the extra member at the table. (She tried not to make it sound like an accusation, but… Well, just look at him, and look at her. Maybe he was rich…?) Her gesture included Bre as well, since the woman was hovering over his shoulder, cutting her new husband’s steak for him.
“Oh gee, we surpassed the prognostication prowess of bimbo Barbie!” said Grace.
“Oh wow, you finally learned multisyllabic words!” countered Kate. “Did you accidentally read a book or something?”
“Come on, I’m sure she reads. Remind me, what college are you going to?”
“Eat me, blondie.” She spread two fingers in front of her lips and stuck out her tongue.
“Girls…” Bre glared the three of them down. With that steak knife in her hand, it worked even better than usual.
Apart from Grace’s antagonism, Ashley’s prompt received no response. Since no one spoke up to explain, she pushed for one as subtly as she could.
“Oh, it was just one of those whirlwind things,” Bre answered, tucking a chunklet of beef into her husband’s mouth. She left her finger there while he sucked off the juices. “You know how it is nowadays.”
“Yeah, totally,” Ashley agreed lamely. That was that. Nobody offered more, and Bre was so preoccupied with her hand feeding that Ashley couldn’t even display her curiosity via body language. Grace and Kate were each eating a salad, only. The same for Ashley, if only because that’s all anybody had put on her plate. She’d assumed there would be steaks for everyone, but evidently there was only the one.
Ashley was famished after skipping lunch on the trek out here, but she didn’t want to be rude. Bre was hands down the chillest, sweetest mom of any of her friends, but show her bad manners and she turned into a mama grizzly in no time flat. It was why Grace’s uncouth friends never got the welcome Ashley did.
When Ashley let the subject die, so too did conversation. Kate and Grace ate their salads in demure silence; Bre ignored her meal altogether to focus on feeding her husband.
Ashley’s stomach growled so loudly the whole table heard it. “Sorry. Didn’t stop for lunch. I, um, don’t suppose there’s any more steak…?”
Bre’s husband chewed a piece noisily. He made no sign he intended to offer her any. His wife replied in his stead. “Sorry, sweetie. We made a grocery run Wednesday. We only bought what we needed. It’s a long drive, too, I’m afraid.”
“Smells delicious, doesn’t it?” Grace said of the steak, skewering her final leaf on her fork. “Not that I want any. I don’t wanna get fat.”
As someone who ran twenty plus kilometers most weeks, Ashley wasn’t worried about getting fat. She didn’t think Grace needed to worry, either; the girl might not be as slender as Ashley and Kate, but only because it took a village to feed those stupid huge boobs of hers. Her tummy was flat—a fact she emphasized with her posture. If their visitor had wondered who that was meant to benefit, all doubt was removed when her stepfather beckoned her with the crook of his finger and pulled her lips to his using the understrap of her bikini. They kissed like that, open-mouthed, tongues undisguisedly slapping together, as Bre took her first bite of her own salad while the man was distracted.
This is insane, Ashley thought. Again. Her eyes ought to be drilling a hole in Kate’s forehead with her urgency for an explanation, but Kate was focused on her own lettuce. If it bothered her that her stepdad was frenching her little sister, she sure didn’t show it.
“Mmmm, that does taste good, Bre,” Grace said to her mother when she finally withdrew. Once she caught her breath. She smirked at Ashley, as if she was so hungry she wanted to suck the taste of beef out of some beardface’s mouth.
“I didn’t make it for you, sweetie, but I’m glad you enjoyed your taste. Thank your daddy if you’re going to thank anyone.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” purred Grace.
The man was already frowning at the delay in being fed another morsel. His wife hastily dropped her fork and shoved one in.
“So, um, I see you guys have, you know, gotten really… close. Really really close,” Ashley observed, as casually as she could. This was more than she could ignore. Was she on a prank show or something? She looked for evidence of hidden cameras.
“Mm,” said Bre. That was the only response anyone gave her.
At least, to her face. After dinner, while Grace hurried to do the dishes—a first for her, in their decade and a half of acquaintance—Ashley excused herself to the bathroom. From there, she could hear Kate and her mother having a hushed conversation.
“You promised me she would behave herself,” Bre was saying. “We had ourselves a lovely weekend set up, and I don’t want to ruin things with Ashley and her need to invent drama.”
“She’ll be good, Mom. I promise.” Unlike her little sister, Kate still called Bre by title rather than name. Less affectionately than for her mom’s husband, though. “You know Ashley. She’s just curious.”
“Curiosity is well and fine, but I won’t abide her sitting around giving your daddy those sulky looks all weekend. Either she’s going to behave like part of this family, or…”
Ashley strained her ears. Or what?
The door swung open. There had been no knock. She squeaked in surprise as this veritable stranger let himself into the bathroom. Thank goodness she hadn’t been on the toilet, or taking a shower! Not that the man even looked at her as he joined her at the sink, way too deep in her bubble in way too private a place. His gaze was fixed down the hall to where Grace’s butt was bent over the sink as she washed his plate. It gyrated in little circles while she wiped.
“Um, should I have locked the door…?” Ashley asked, trying to keep the heat out of her voice.
He didn’t bother looking away from Grace’s ass. It wasn’t even Kate’s delectable little bubble booty, or their mother’s thicc, full curves. Ugh. “No locks here, Ashley.”
Ashley was nearly ready to drag Kate to their shared bedroom—shared with “Daddy’s” blessing, she grumbled inwardly—but Kate was having none of it. It was her idea, in fact, to bust out the board games. The rest of the evening was given to Settlers of Cataan, and later something called Betrayal at House on the Hill.
Ashley had played the former before, though never with so much giggling. She hated giggling. Kate did, too, not that you’d know it from how much of it she was doing. Every time there was a chance for one of the girls to make a lame pun about their Daddy’s wood, it was made. That wasn’t even the worst of it; both Kate and Grace made any trade the man requested, even if the terms were dismal. (When nobody was looking, Ashley perused the instruction book to see if it was legal to freely donate resources to another player. It wasn’t, though Ashley didn’t dare risk the ire of Bre, watching dotingly from the sidelines, by pointing it out.)
The other game wasn’t familiar to her, but it seemed simple enough. Explore a haunted house until a game mechanic turned one of the players into a “betrayer” with any one of dozens of horror movie cliché motives. Then everyone else tried to defeat the betrayer or die trying. In practice, with this group of players? It was simply the two stepdaughters following their stepdad’s token around the house. When he was made the betrayer, they shrugged off any effort to stop him from unleashing rat swarms into the house. As Kate’s character was devoured alive, she laughed and settled onto her daddy’s lap to congratulate him on a game well-played while he turned his wrath on Grace, who fell next and with no more fanfare.
“You sure kicked my ass, Daddy,” said Grace, adjusting her breasts in her top way too openly. “Respect.”
Ashley didn’t need to let him win at that point, though she would have. She was competitive—as a jock in high school, she’d had to be—but it was important here and now to be polite. She’d put up with him staring at her chest all night with a little pout like he resented her for covering herself. What was a little board game pride next to enduring that?
Besides, a healthy dinner had put her in a mood. A little attention felt kind of good, weirdly. The man was a creep and her friend’s family had somehow turned even creepier, but still. She had cute boobs. It wasn’t all about size, whatever Grace and Bre told themselves. It was nice to get noticed.
It didn’t make up for his hogging all the protein, though.
“You ready for me?” the man asked Bre without ceremony as Ashley tidied up the games.
“Girls, bed time,” Bre said immediately. “Good night, Ashley. I’m so glad you could join us.” She literally dragged her husband down the hall, her daughters staring after them.
“He didn’t even—”
Grace’s complaint was cut short when her stepdad ambled back down the hall. His pants were off already, somehow. The erection jutting out in his tighty whities, while not impressive compared to Ashley’s boyfriend’s, was nevertheless too prominent not to notice.
“Daddy!” Kate and Grace squealed in unison.
Ashley didn’t understand what was unfolding until the sisters sauntered over to him and each kissed him good night. Or, more aptly, performed a good night kiss. He took hold of the hip straps of Grace’s bikini where they peeked out of her shorts and held her body to his while she practically made out with him. With a chuckle, he then jerked the ties on the strings, then pantsed her. Pantsed the girl, like he was a frat buddy playing a prank and not a stepdad savoring the taste of her spit.
“Daddy, everybody’s gonna see my pussy!” she complained. That was all the more the surly eighteen-year-old brat had to say about having her stepdad flash her genitals to the room.
Kate rolled her eyes and took her turn. Grace had been cute about it, but Kate was making a production. Ashley could hear them kissing. She closed her eyes, pictured it. Wet. Hot. Handsy. When they opened some time later, it was still going, and looked exactly like her mental image.
“G’night, girls,” the man said, withdrawing as suddenly as he’d arrived. Ashley’s anxiety about whether she might be expected to be kissed in that fashion died. Thank goodness. She just knew Bre would be pissed if she refused to toe the line, even if that line was insane and perverse.
“Good night, Daddy!” the girls cooed in unison. They stared after him until the moment he disappeared into their mother’s bedroom.
Grace sneered at Ashley disdainfully. “Might wanna pick your chin up off the floor, blondie.”
Kate glowered at her little sister. “Grace, don’t be a bitch. Ashley, ignore her. C’mon. Let’s go to bed.”
Ashley was only too happy to accept the invitation. Her mind was reeling, and sleeping it off sounded like just the thing. The girls changed for bed, Ashley feeling a bit awkward about changing in the same room as another girl. She’d had to with her freshman roommate in the dorms, but still, that hadn’t been a lifelong friend. A lifelong friend who’d just tried to suck her stepdad’s tongue out of his mouth.
It wasn’t something she’d wanted to notice, but once she saw, it was impossible to get it out of her head—the sight of Kate’s smooth-shaven pussy. It would have been easy to forget if she didn’t distinctly remember a conversation they’d had about it with some other friends back in high school in which Kate had insisted the mere idea of women doing that made her want to “barf in disgust at malekind.” Her position had been about as nuanced as it was inspired, repulsion at the concept that a woman making her genitals look like they had as a child could possibly be a turn-on. Ashley had never seen Kate’s pussy before, but it took her aback.
It looks really sexy on her, Ashley thought.
“So, um, your stepdad.”
“Daddy. Mm.” Kate’s face lit up at the mere mention.
“Right. Yeah, he seems—”
“DICK ME, HONEY! DICK ME HARDER!”
The girls’ heads whipped toward the bedroom door in unison. That was Bre, shrieking her wifely demands from the master bedroom right across the hall from them. It was so loud, Ashley wondered if they’d even shut the door. Not that anyone could, now, unless they wanted an eyeful of their mother getting, as she’d verbed it, “dicked.”
“That’s your mom,” Ashley observed brilliantly.
“And my daddy,” added Kate affectionately.
The girls listened, stunned (in Ashley’s case; Kate seemed like she was simply enjoying the listen). Bre was verbal when she was turned on. Bossy, too, especially for a lady who’d diligently fed her husband his dinner by hand.
She wanted it harder.
She wanted him to slurp her big round mommy knockers.
She wanted him to slap her ass like the needy little milf whore she was.
She wanted his molten lava-dick to melt the glacier she’d stupidly allowed to block up her baby maker.
She wanted, and wanted, and wanted. From the sounds of things, she was getting it.
“OH MY FUCKING GAWD YOU’RE MAKING ME COME SO HARD I THINK I WENT BLIND!”
Once she started coming, there was so little effort to articulate her concerns that it was pretty much an on-going howl with syllables. The girls kept silent, listening to the woman screech through pleasure the likes of which they’d only ever heard in porn. Not that either of them had actually watched porn, but this was how they imagined it. Busty big tits milf gets fucking of a lifetime from hubby while stepdaughters listen, Ashley’s subconscious supplied as a title.
There was rustling under their covers. The moonlight streaming in the uncovered window showed movement where Kate was laying beside her. At her chest, and… lower.
Only then did Ashley realize that she had changed in front of an open window without even thinking about it. It felt pretty remote out here, but… shouldn’t that occur to her? You didn’t go through life as the quintessential perky-sexy Cali girl without learning to watch for watchers. Instead, she’d only been thinking about Kate’s new dad informing her that the doors didn’t lock, thinking about what she’d say if he walked in on her changing, if he’d like what he’d saw.
Kate’s mouth hung open, her breathing coming shallower, faster, as across the hall, her mother shrieked out more concerns about the intensity of her pleasure, the certainty that he’d short-circuited her eyes with his “PERFECT SLUT-FUCKING ALPHA DICK!” as she called it. Several times.
This shouldn’t be turning me on, Ashley thought.
It was, though. Not like Kate, the pervert, getting off hearing her hot mom getting her pussy stuffed by her own stepdad. By her daddy. It was fucking hot, though. Anything that gave a woman that much pleasure had to be pretty hot. Didn’t it? Not that Ashley was attracted to him, but… Well, the Donners had to be onto something. Surely there was something there.
Kate’s foot brushed against Ashley’s calf as she wriggled. Masturbated, Ashley corrected herself. Not “wriggled.” She’s jilling herself off. She doesn’t even care that I’m in bed with her. That she’s… touching me. She’s touching my leg while she’s pleasuring herself.
Well, Ashley thought, squirming until she could get her PJ’s and panties down past her hips, two could play at that game.
Kate noticed. Of course she noticed. A girl couldn’t masturbate with her elbow six inches from yours and not notice when you followed her example. (Was this cheating on her boyfriend? Oh well. If he couldn’t compete with a dud like this “daddy” fellow, he deserved to be cheated on a little.) As for Kate, she only laughed. Softly, so as not to disrupt the stream of ear porn from across the hall.
“DON’T EVER STOP COMING IN MAMA’S BABY FACTORY!” wailed Bre. Was she still Ms. Donner? Who even was this strange, shameless whore being dicked senseless across the hall? She hadn’t even gotten the man’s name, Ashley realized.
Grace’s voice chimed in from the bedroom next door. “You tell him, Bre! Yeeeehaaaa! Ride that bronco, cowgirl!”
“Grace is so bad,” whispered Ashley.
“You’re so bad,” Kate countered, even whisperier.
“You’re doing it even worse than me!”
“Shhh.”
Kate made a fine point. Ashley really ought to shut up.
She adjusted her position so she could spread her legs a little wider. The covers lifted for a moment, and a blast of sticky wet pussy smell smacked her right in the nostrils.
In the morning, Ashley thought, I really need to, um…
“FUCK YES, DADDY, PAINT MOMMY’S FAT WHORE TITTIES SLUT WHITE!”
To do… something.
Well, whatever. It would come to her.
Ashley’s eyes slid closed, imagining the scene unfolding on the other side of two thin—and, according to Katy’s daddy, unlocked—doors. She came at some point. Points, she amended. It wasn’t about coming, though. It was about touching herself, and she wasn’t about to stop before her bed mate. It would at least give them something to talk about in the morning, if they weren’t going to explain how this “daddy” madness all started.
Eventually she fell asleep, and when the sun woke her up the next morning, all she could remember of a long night filled with fitful dreams was everyone feeling disgusted that she hadn’t shaved her pussy, and wondering if Kate’s daddy would fuck her as hard as the other girls if she saw to it. She shook her head, trying to clear the shame clinging to her mind like cobwebs, but it stuck.
Not that she was going to shave her pussy to get rid of it.
That would be crazy.
She wasn’t.
Did they even have any razors here?
This is the first of a four-part series. I’ll be dropping Friday through Sunday here over the next few updates, but if you’re impatient, it’s available now on my patreon. As always, if you have feedback, hit me up at svalbarding@gmail.com.