"I've plugged up the leak," he announced on the way to the door. "I hope you'll call me again. I mean, if you need me… that is, if anything needs pluggin'."
As the door closed Penny couldn't help laughing out loud at the bashful repairman's awkwardness. But it was soon replaced by a more serious thought… Paul Lagardo. Why hadn't he called, she wondered. She tried to push the thought from her mind, but it refused to leave. She couldn't stop wondering if he would ever call again or if he'd been offended by her constant nagging about his sex activities on the island.
By Thursday of that week, Penny was depressed about everything; Paul, the way she behaved during her weekend with him-obviously the reason he didn't bother calling anymore-and the hopeless situation of not being able to make amends. And too, her loneliness in general. There didn't seem to be anything that interested her anymore, she concluded.
But she was snapped out of the low spirits by the sound of the doorbell. She rushed to answer it, wondering who it could be at four in the afternoon, not that it mattered. She'd be happy to see anyone at this point.
"Daddy!" she screeched at the sight of her handsome, immaculately dressed father standing in the ball.
"Hello, Penny. Just, thought I'd stop by to see you," be said. "I have a dinner engagement at seven, and thought I'd just spend some time with you."
"Come in," Penny said happily. "I was just getting the blues for want of a friendly face… and bingo! the greatest of them all shows up." With that she threw her arms around his neck-and gave him a big kiss and hug.
It was the first time her father had ever visited her apartment and she flitted around the place, trying to make him comfortable. She only wished now that she hadn't changed from the cute outfit she had worn to the office that day. At least not to the faded old jeans and too tight sweater. Not with such a distinguished guest, she thought to herself.
They had a drink and chatted about Steve and his new girl friend. Penny was on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her, while her father sat at the other end in a much less relaxed fashion. But then she never did remember him sitting in anything but a proper fashion. Or for that matter, doing anything that wasn't proper.
Over the second drink they talked about the family in general; what was happening at home and the latest word from Penny's mother, who was on another vacation, in the Bahamas this time.
"I guess you must get pretty lonesome too," Penny said as she poured another drink for them.
"What with Mother away so much."
"You'll never know how lonesome I've been all these years," he answered sadly.
It seemed appropriate, after placing his Scotch and water on the coffee table, to give her father a kiss. Something to let him know she understood.
Charles P. Kingston didn't know how to relax how to let himself go. He just sat stiffly in his corner of the couch and allowed his daughter to kiss him. But inside he was tormented by his inability to express, his own love fur her. He wanted to grab her and kiss her so badly. But he did nothing. The thoughts that had plagued him for weeks-how he wanted her body again-weighed heavily on his conscience. His guilt feelings kept him from responding now, when it would have been so very natural. He realized, in these last few weeks, that the mistresses he had over the years, meant nothing. Just objects that were purchased. But he couldn't buy his daughter.
After she kissed her father, Penny hugged him, pressing her cheek against his. It was a little awkward, kneeling on the couch and trying to keep her balance while she gave him the affectionate hug. She had no idea what her father was thinking or how much he wanted what she bad given him before. And his stiff-always proper-mannerism, made it impossible to imagine that sex was the object of his visit.
In a gesture to show Penny that he appreciated her understanding, he awkwardly reached his arm round her for a little return squeeze. His hand fell on the bare skin of her lower back, where her sweater rode up and jeans slid down, exposing an area just above the rise of her buttocks. The touch of her skin sent a flash of fire through his head. But once committed, he left his hand there for the embrace. As Penny moved back, sitting on her legs again, his hand stayed on the soft skin, slipping down a little to where her rump began to rise.
Penny was hardly aware of his hand, giving it very little attention at this point. Cheering him up seemed to be the only thing that was important. "Let's just get drunk and to hell with your dinner engagement," Penny offered.
"Sounds like a damn good idea." He laughed, knowing inside he couldn't-or wouldn't do it, but wishing he could.
Penny leaned over for her drink and her father's hand slid down a little farther. His fingers were just touching the point where the mounds of assflesh began to swell and separate. The base of her spine, where one finger touched the sensitive skin of the crack. She was suddenly aware of his hand. But not sure what it meant She pretended not to notice when she sat back on her legs. When her father didn't make a move to take his hand away, she realized that he knew what was happening. It occurred to her that he must be going through hell, sitting there, not knowing what he should do, and trying to make it all seem accidental.
"Mmmmm… " she cooed, bending toward him again, "but we've got each other to chase away the loneliness."
This time as she kissed him she reached behind and pushed his hand onto the full meat of her ass inside the jeans. She could feel him tense up, but he didn't try to pull his hand away. Then he patted the fleshy balls, as he might have done when she was three years old. Still playing innocent, she told herself, opening her mouth on his to intensify his longing.
A tremendous battle raged in the father's head. On the one side he wanted to-on the other he felt that he shouldn't. Just an innocent pat on the ass, he rationalized for his present actions. Then his hand stopped patting. The feel of her smooth, firm, round ass raced through his mind. He couldn't resist the urge to trace his finger down the crack, or touch the little opening, or… just poke his finger in a little. He was breathing faster and getting dizzy from her open mouth over his lips. The smell of her. The taste of her, as their tongues met. The feel of her!
When Penny moved back, her jeans were down over her buttocks in the back, digging into the flesh just above her golden triangle of hair in the front. She hoped her father would take some of the initiative-do something. Anything to show his intentions. But instead he reached for his glass and drained it.
The first joint of his middle finger was lodged in Penny's rectum and she patiently sat on it until he finished his drink. She knew she'd either have to open the front of her jeans-to stop the pain they were creating as they bit into her tender flesh-or put an end to his fun. She didn't have the heart to do the latter, so she opened the brass button and slid the zipper down. The pants slid over her hips from the weight of her father's arm and her fluffy pubic hair popped out.
"Oh, Penelope… " her father sighed as his eyes caught sight of the golden fleece. The rest of his sentence was muffled on the fur above her treasure cove, but she thought it sounded like "I love you."
Penny could feel his lips pressing into the patch of hair and feel him breathing in to the spot above her clit. He was taking deep breaths of air through his nose, obviously delirious with the fragrance he found there. Her position and the confinement of the jeans tangled around her legs prevented her from opening up to give him access to the source of the sweet-smelling honey. AU she could do was sit there patting his head, waiting for him to finish.
It seemed like hours before he lifted his head and moved out of his cramped position. He sat back and looked at the area between her legs for a moment, without any apparent thought of what he would do next.