"No, sweet," Victor said. "But that works two ways, Sherry. This is our secret and you mustn't let any other man put his poker in your pussy either, right?"
"Oh, no, Daddy," she said. "Never. Never. I just want yours."
Just before he drifted off into a deep sleep, Victor knew that at the moment Sherry meant her vow to remain true to him. She didn't have any idea how tenacious and persistent young men could be with a lovely girl, and Sherry certainly promised to develop into something males would be after. Well, he thought, I'll worry about that later. For now, I have a few years to create the sex slave of my dreams – to prepare Sherry for the inevitable outsiders.
CHAPTER TWO
Her father's voice jarred her from her memory of that first night almost four years ago when he had introduced her to sex. "Nice and warm. Not too hot and not too cool. Just the way you like it."
"Thanks, Daddy," she called, examining her body once more in the mirror before turning and padding toward the bathroom. She stuck her toe in the water, testing the temperature. Then she slid into the tub and began soaping the wash cloth for her bath. Daddy went back into the main room and turned on the piped-in music then adjusted the lighting low. A soft version of I Get A Kick Out Of You wafted its way into the bathroom and Sherry began humming as she soaked and scrubbed.
Her father's preparation for lovemaking in the other room brought on the familiar mushy feeling deep within her vagina (she still liked to think of the feeling as mushy even after all these years). Sherry Trent and The Sunbeams, she thought up and coming musical act. The thought pleased her – that and the fact that agent Gil Turner had told her father he thought he could get more money for the act from now on. She sudsed each breast carefully with the wash cloth, appraising and admiring their firmness as she did so. Then, raising her buttocks slightly so that her vagina emerged from the water, she gently let the soapy cloth run up and down the length of her cunt. She let the cloth trail down so that it tickled her rectum at the same time. She liked the feeling of the warm cloth against her genitals and she did it whenever she bathed because it felt good.
"… Still I get a kick out of you," she hummed, washing her legs and stomach now. The thought of Gil Turner reminded her that she was a big girl now and had to be increasingly careful of her father's jealousy. Males were becoming more open in their advances now and it was becoming increasingly difficult for her to explain why she wouldn't date any of them. More than any of them Gil Turner was becoming increasingly suspicious of the relationship between herself and her father, because it was with Gil that she had had the only sexual encounter with anyone other than her father.
That had been a little over six months ago. Her father had flown East to attend the funeral of his sister, her Aunt Carrie, and had left Sherry at Lake Tahoe in Gil Turner's care to finish out the engagement there. Her father trusted Gil completely which was foolish because on the very same night he had left Gil had gotten her tipsy on martinis in his room and they had made love. It had been the first time she had fucked with anybody other than her father and, secretly, she had wanted to have sex with another male for a long time anyway. For companion. The martinis had removed all trace of inhibition and she had yielded willingly.
The reason she guessed that Gil suspected her relationship with her father was because she had never let him approach her after that single encounter, even when the opportunity presented itself. The reasons for Gil's suspicion had to go even deeper than that though, she knew. Only a fool – and Gil was by no stretch of the imagination a fool – would think that Sherry had not had considerable sexual experience prior to their copulation. The martinis had brought out her skill. She had sucked his cock, fucked him in every imaginable position and uttered every four-letter work known to man on the night of their affair. No, Gil was no fool and since she never dated males he had to guess the origin of her sexual finesse: Daddy and daughter. She had literally fucked poor Gil to a state of exhaustion that night and before staggering to the door to say good night he had said, "Good God, Sherry… I never would have guessed we can't ever breathe a word of this to anybody… ever… it could blow the whole act… kaput… and you know why never a word to – to anyone…"
It was his remark never would have guessed that had provided the clue to Gil Turner's insight. Naturally, her father would have raised hell if he had guessed that Gil had fucked Sherry, but it was the fact that Victor Redgrave had been fucking his own daughter that was the real revelation. If Victor knew that Sherry's agent had screwed his daughter, naturally Gil would be out of the scene. Sherry sensed his fear as she had left his room that night and so she had taken care to establish two important points. First, they would never fuck again. Second, just in case Gil ever decided to use his new-found information as a form of blackmail (to increase his ten percent agent's fee, for example) she would swear that he had raped her. Gil had departed swearing never to utter a word to anybody about anything, fear and shock written all over his plump but handsome features. After that, whenever he was in Sherry's presence, he seemed to stammer a bit, as though he were doing an imitation of Hugh Herbert.
Her departing words to Gil that night had been right to the point and insured his secrecy. She had not co-habited with her shrewd and opportunistic father for all these years for nothing. A few of her father's tactics had rubbed off on her.
But most important, she had learned some thing of extreme importance that night. She had learned that she preferred sex with Daddy to any other male. True, at times she still felt fleeting sexual fantasies regarding other men, but she felt certain that no one but Daddy could totally satisfy her. Nobody but Daddy knew just what she liked in bed and just how she liked it. Nobody but Daddy knew how to use his tongue or vibrator the way Daddy did. No body knew the special words that sent tingles down her spine or how to fuck her so that she could come as many as three or four times in one session. She could not imagine what it would be like to fuck without saying the words dadddeee… dadddeee in a lover's ear. Yes, her Daddy had tutored her from the beginning. In a way, he had shaped the channel of her vagina so that it was a kind of glove, a glove that would fit only the hand of his prick and his prick alone. She hadn't even been able to have an orgasm with Gil Turner that night. Only Daddy could produce those marvelous, exquisite feeling in her body. Dadddee… dadddeee…
"Ready for your back now," Victor Redgrave said, standing naked in the bathroom door.
"Yes, Daddy," Sherry said, aware that her voice was high-pitched. She always consciously spoke in a high-pitched voice to him. Somehow it added to the excitement and secrecy of their incestuous relationship. He liked it, too. She could tell. She wanted always to be his little girl and act out again and again the delicious sexual feelings of that first fateful night so long ago. He always spoke to her patiently and paternally, too. This was a kind of unspoken agreement which they practiced – unless of course they were in the presence of others.
Victor sat down on the tile bathtub beside his daughter, took the wash cloth, soaped it, and began cleansing his daughter's smooth, blemishless back. After a while, out of habit, she stood up and permitted him to carefully wash between and her breasts and her incredibly pert. She had already washed herself thoroughly but he always liked to wash her private parts himself. It felt good to her and it gave him pleasure also.
When he had finished, he climbed into the tub with her and they sat facing each other talking about the events of the evening and the next engagement. Finally, he raised himself and she dutifully and maternally washed his cock and balls and back. Although her Daddy was forty-four now, he was remarkably firm and looked much younger. His black hair had grayed only slightly at the temples and this gave him a distinguished look. He played tennis fairly regularly, often with her, and his shoulders were broad and fine. Even his pectoral muscles were firm and there was not hint of a paunch above his prick. He usually won games on the tennis court and she was always proud at his agility and good-sportsmanship and of the way he slyly disguised the real nature of their relationship.