index


Message-ID: <61867asstr$1330222204@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Denny Wheeler <dennyw@zipcon.net>
User-Agent: Mozilla/5.0 (Windows NT 6.1; WOW64; rv:10.0.2) Gecko/20120216 Thunderbird/10.0.2
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
Subject: {ASSM} RP: Wynter King: Mother's Little Helper 03/03 {Hoisington} (Mg rom ped inc cons 1st slow)
Lines: 1333
Date: Sat, 25 Feb 2012 21:10:04 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


                               WYNTER
                       by Russell Hoisington
    ************************************************************

This is an erotic fantasy.  The characters and the situation are
purely imaginary, and this story is NOT intended to be a guide
for actual behavior.  Any similarities between this story and
actual people, or actual events that you should be ashamed of,
are purely coincidental.  If it is illegal in your part of the
world to access and read erotic fiction, or if you are underage,
or if you don't like sex stories, then stop now.

This story is copyright 2003 and 2005 by Russell Hoisington.
Please do not remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial (free)
sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.  That does NOT
mean that they are in the public domain, nor does it mean that I
give permission for you to use them in spam advertising.  I
reserve the right to determine what is "spam advertising" by MY
definition, not yours or anyone else's.

Thank you for your consideration.

    ************************************************************

This is a 2005 revised version of the story with errors corrected
and with a new chapter added to PART THREE:  MOTHER'S LITTLE
HELPER.

                               WYNTER
                             PART THREE:
                       MOTHER'S LITTLE HELPER

                           Seven of Nine

      Richard gave Wynter his warmest, most reassuring smile.
"Wynter, would you excuse us, please?  Your mother wants to
talk."

      Angie's furious gaze swept down to Wynter and caused her to
cringe back into the chair.  "Wait a minute.  Wynter, did he
molest you?"

      Tears brimmed in the twin blue-green pools.  "M--m--molest
me?"

      "Did _he_," she indicated Richard with the gun barrel,
"force himself on you and molest you?  Fondle you?  Coerce you
into fondling _him_?"

      "Angie, put the gun away.  You're scaring her."

      "_Answer me!_"

      Tears exploded as Wynter cringed and folded her legs up into
the chair and along her body.  She wrapped her arms around them
and tried to make herself as small as possible.  "Mommy, it
wasn't Daddy's fault, it was all mine.  He couldn't make me do
anything.  He was hurt and in the bed all the time," she cried
through tears.

      Angie turned her fury back to Richard.  "You've got her
taking the blame for you," she spat.

      His voice stayed calm, rational, and gentle.  "Put the gun
in the holster, Angie.  You aren't Patsy Ramsey or Lorena
Bobbitt, and you aren't going to hurt either of us."

      Angie focused on the revolver as if she were seeing it for
the first time.  She tucked it in the holster and fastened the
safety strap while snarling at him.

      "Angie, it's not _her_ fault, it's ours."

      "Oh!  So you can't accept your responsibility without
shifting some of the blame onto her?"

      "Not Wynter's and mine ours.  Yours and mine ours."  He
smiled at Wynter.  "Honey, you can go now.  It's okay.  Mother
and I just need to talk.  All right?"

      She looked at him, her eyes dumping tears.  "Okay."  She
looked up at Angie as she started unfolding.  "Mommy, don't hurt
him, please? [sniff] I love you both.  I don't want you to hurt
him. [sniff]  Please?"

      Angie tore her eyes from her husband to look down at her
daughter.  Some of the fire faded.  "I won't hurt him," she said.
Wynter's face said she wasn't convinced.

      Richard had an idea.  "Honey, would you do me a favor?"

      "Uh huh. [sniff]  What?"  She rose to her feet and turned to
face him.  She looked ready to bolt into his arms but was too
frightened to do so.

      "You know that cedar tree that you said looks like it has a
big scary thing crawling out of it?  Would you take a drawing pad
out there and draw me a picture of the thing?  Not the tree as it
is, but with the scary thing crawling out?"

      She sniffed, looking from him to her mother and back.
"Okay."  She was being run outside and she knew it, but she went
along with it because he'd asked for a favor.  "Colored pencils
or black and white?" she asked, sniffing again and brushing tears
away.

      "I think black and white might look scarier.  Don't you,
dear?"  When Angie didn't respond, he stared at her and indicated
with a nod in Wynter's direction that she should say something.

      "Yes.  Yes, that would be better."

      "'Kay.  I love you, Daddy.  I love you, Mommy."

      "I love you, honey."

      "I love you, too, sweetheart."

      Angie watched Wynter retrieve a pad and pencil from her room
and then trudge down the hall with her shadow in slow pursuit.
She turned to glare at Richard.  "What...."

      He held up a finger to silence her and pointed in the
general direction of Wynter with it.  "Sit down, please" he said
in a gentle voice.  "Wait until she's outside."

      The closing kitchen door was barely audible in the silence.
He preempted the opening attack.  "We failed her, Angie."

      "_We?_  Richard..."

      "We.  Both of us.  Here.  In this place.  With this house.
This location."

      She shook her head.  "This is the house we wanted.  We both
wanted to live here."

      "Yes, we did.  But we made that decision before we made her.
We never looked to see if that decision was still the right one
after she was born."

      Her left fist clenched around the walking stick.  She
brought it horizontal across her knees and grabbed it in her
right fist.  "You're trying to change the subject.  You'd hinted
at moving before.  Were you planning all along to use that to
distract me when I found out?"

      "Wynter's being deprived by being out here all alone with
us."

      "_Deprived?_"  Angie shook her head in bewilderment.  "She
has trees and flowers and nature and low crime and..."

      "And no interaction with other people, especially people her
own age.  She's being raised like a miniature grownup, not like a
kid."

      "So you used her like she was an adult to get off.  What
the..."

      "Angie, do you know how much she knows about sex?"

      "Obviously a _hell_ of a lot more than she knew when I left.
Just how much _did _you teach her?"

      "Honey, please!  One argument at a time.  Do you know how
much she knew when you left?"

      "Well, of course I do, for piss' sake.  _I'm_ the one who
had the mother-daughter talk with her."

      "Exactly."  He leaned back and lowered the upper half of the bed
slightly from full upright.

      His complacent grin of triumph confused her.  He had
obviously scored a point, but why?  What was the point of the
point?  She had been married to him too long.  She knew not to
ignore that look.  This was something he'd been awaiting and was
prepared to handle.

      He adjusted the pillow behind his head.  "Ever notice how
she handles a compliment?"

      "She sometimes gets a little embarrassed, but what the hell
does _that_...."

      "It's all related.  And it's not 'sometimes.'  She _always_
gets embarrassed unless it's a teasing compliment.  Always.  Or
did until Ellen and Kevin explained to her how to handle...."

      "_What?_  Ellen and Kevin?  For piss' sake, Richard!  That's
our job."

      "Yes," he said in a soft voice.  "That's _our_ job.  But
when we don't do our job, she has to go elsewhere to learn.  And
how do kids normally learn things they don't learn from their
parents?  They learn them from other people, especially other
kids.  But she doesn't have other kids around to learn from most
of the time."

      "Richard, you're crazy!  There's Kenny Taylor, Suzie
Middleton..."

      "Suzie!  Glad you brought her up."

      Angie frowned at his grin, beginning to realize that she was
being steered into setups.

      "Kids learn a lot about sex from other kids.  They listen to
conflicting information, seek a general pattern, and assume that
what most of the people say is probably what's right.  Only she
doesn't have any kids but Suzie to listen to, and Suzie doesn't
always have answers.  The ones she does have are frequently
wrong, or at least incomplete.  Not that having more kids to talk
to would guarantee she'd get the right information.

      "She didn't know what being horny was, or why she felt that
need.  She didn't know that she could masturbate to relieve the
feeling, and she didn't know _how_ to masturbate once she learned
it would help.

      "Do you know what else she asked me?  'Why would some boy in
college want to eat my pussy?'  She honestly didn't know."

      Angie's knuckles turned whiter as she squeezed her walking
staff.  Richard supposed it was a proxy for his neck.  "Well,
number two, I suppose you showed her why, and number one, why
would she ask _that_ question in the first place?"

      "I _explained_ the answer the second time she asked it,
though I was hoping she'd save it to ask you.  And you're missing
the significance of her question.  She doesn't _know_.  She
doesn't _understand_ what a sexual relationship is all about."

      Angie rolled her head back and stared at the ceiling.  "Oh!
Well!"  She glared at him and added, "Isn't she _lucky_ that you
are able to _show_ her!  I thought we were _protecting _her."

      "Exactly."

      She shook her head, wondering which part he was agreeing
with, and suddenly realized he'd awarded himself another point.
She was still being steered.  "What?"

      Richard shook his head.  "We thought we were protecting her,
but in reality we were preparing her to be a victim of the first
slick-talking sonofabitch that realizes he has a naive winner on
his hands."

      "That would be you," she said with a sneer.

      "Honey, you keep trying to start a new argument before we've
finished with the old one," he said with a smile that did nothing
to reduce her anger.  "How do kids normally find out what the
other half of humanity looks like?"

      "Well, books and ...."

      "No," he interrupted.  "How do Dick and Jane _really_ find
out what the other half looks like?"

      She stared at him for a second, and then slumped a little
when she realized what his response would be.  "They play
'doctor,' and 'show and tell,'" she said in a normal voice.

      "Exactly!"  He ignored her wince.  "They go to Alice DeClerk
and Eddie Thomas."

      _I should have never told him about Eddie,_ she realized,
years too late.

      "But Wynter doesn't have that opportunity to do so because
we wanted to live here in isolation.  You can't raise a child in
isolation or you'll raise a social misfit who doesn't know how to
act around her peers and who doesn't know how, or when, to
protect herself."

      "But I've _told_ her how to protect herself from everyone.
 From everyone except you because I never thought...."

      "Angie."  It seemed strange to hear that patient tone
directed from himself to her for a change.  "That's the problem.
You _told_ her.  She's far too trusting."

      "Are we back to the new argument now?"

      He ignored that.  "If you don't say, 'I'm a bad guy,' she'll
take anything you tell her at face value.  She needs to have
Little Billy and Little Johnny take advantage with something
minor, or Bill and John will take advantage of her big time.
About the only person she doesn't trust is Uncle Bob after all
the promises he's broken over the years."

      "So:  you're telling me you took advantage of her with
something minor--I'd say you took major advantage _of_ a
minor--to protect her later on?"

      "Nooo...."

      She released her breath in an explosive sigh.  He'd
stretched the word out and ended it on a higher note, his way of
saying she wasn't seeing the obvious.  "Then for piss' sake, what
_are_ you saying?"

      He sighed.  "First that she's been pushed too far too fast.
She wants to be older than she is.  That's not unusual for kids,
but she takes it to an extreme and feels that anything she does
that isn't adult in its execution is cause for alarm.  Not
concern:  alarm.  You've seen those panic attacks the same as I
have.  And you've seen the way her personality shifts wildly
about.  You're back to being 'Mommy' after a year of being
'Mother.'  Also, she understands that sex is an adult way to
express love and feelings, but she doesn't understand that no sex
doesn't mean non-adult.  Second, I'm saying that she's not had a
proper opportunity to satisfy her curiosity.  She was deeply
embarrassed to assist me with the urinal, but once she discovered
why the catheter had been removed...."

      "Did Ellen tell her that?"

      "No.  She asked and I didn't lie to her.  I _won't_ lie to
her.  She discovered that semen buildup was painful and, well,
you know Wynter when she thinks anyone or anything is in pain."

      "And of course you didn't try hard enough to talk her out of
relieving your condition."

      "No, I didn't."

      Angie blinked.  She wasn't expecting that.  Like all men,
Richard refused to fight fair.

      "Eventually her curiosity got the better of her, and I
didn't try hard enough then, either."

      "For piss' sake, Richard!  Why didn't you have Ellen jack
you off, then?  Couldn't you wait until she returned?"

      "I was prepared to wait longer than that, actually.  I
couldn't let her, though I might have given in within a few
days."

      "Oh!  Well, yeah!  You couldn't let _Ellen_ but...."

      "Angie, do you know why she left Pittsburgh?"

      "No, but...."

      "I do.  I'm sorry that can't tell you, but, trust me, I
couldn't let her handjob me because I didn't want to risk losing
you."

      "And just what makes you think you aren't risking losing me
because you substituted Wynter for Ellen?"

      "Faith in you.  In your common sense."

      That also caught her off guard.  Her mouth worked silently,
trying to spit out the words that weren't there.

      "I know that you'll think it over and see how what I've said
all ties together.  You'll see what I've been trying to tell you,
and eventually you'll understand.  Why don't you go for a walk
again, but this time let your subconscious work on what I've said
for a while.  It does a much better job of analyzing and sorting
out than your conscious mind does.  We can talk again when you
return."

      She slowly rose and stared down at him.  She knew he was
right about the walk.  He was quoting what she'd said to him on
more than one occasion.  "Richard, just how far did you two go?"

      "Don't waste time trying to pry information out of Wynter by
telling her I told you everything.  She's expecting it."

      A hint of a wry smile teased its way onto a corner of her
mouth.  "You _would_ tell her that," she said as she turned and
walked out of the room.

      Richard lay back in his pillows and let out a long breath as
he lowered the head of the bed.  He'd have done that if he'd
thought of it in time.

                               ~ ~ ~

      "Wynter, I'm going for another walk," Angie said to the
blonde ponytail seated on the pine stump.

      Wynter turned her head, lowered the drawing tablet, and
stood.  Even from halfway across the large back yard Angie could
see the tear streaks and red eyes.  Wynter tucked the pencil
behind her ear and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.
"Is--is everything...."  She dropped the pad on the stump and
rushed toward her mother, arms flung wide to encircle her.  She
buried her face in her mother's waist and cried in deep, wracking
sobs.  Dragon sat beside her and looked up at the two in his
curious pose, whimpering softly.

      "Mommy, I'm [sniff]   I'm so sorry.  Don't   don't hate me.
[sniff]  Please?  It's not [sniff] Daddy's fault, it's--it's all
mine.  Please [sniff] don't hate him, either.  Please? [sniff]
Okay?  Please?"

      Angie jammed the point of her walking stick into the soft
earth to hold it in place.  Her left hand pressed her daughter's
shoulders in a hug while her right smoothed the blonde hair above
the ponytail.  Her body twisted in a gentle rocking motion.
"Sweetheart, I don't hate anyone.  I'm just a little upset and
angry.  _Why_ did.... No, never mind.  I just need to go take a
walk and think a bit.  We'll talk then.  Okay?  How's your
drawing?"

      "It's [sniff] okay, I guess."

      Angie disentangled herself from Wynter's arms and dropped to
a squat.  She removed her bandanna and used it to wipe the tears
and mucus from her daughter's pitiful face.  "I'll just hike up
to the aspen grove and back.  Can you have your drawing finished
in about twenty minutes, or do you need longer?"

      Drawing the scary thing was a brilliant idea, and she wished
she'd thought of it.  It gave Wynter a way to vent her fears
safely.

      "I can be done [sniff] in about fifteen minutes."

      "Good.  You can show it to your father and me at the same
time.  How's that?"

      "'Kay," she said in a small voice  She was struggling to
stop crying, but tears escaped from each eye.  Angie caught them
with the bandanna.

      "Good."  She kissed Wynter's forehead.  "I'll see you in a
little bit."  She kissed Wynter's forehead again and rose.

      "I love you."  Wynter's pleading voice sounded as if she
were trying to convince her.

      "I know you do, and I love you, too, sweetheart.  I can't
wait to see your drawing."

      "'Kay."  Wynter waved as her mother walked to the back gate
and then, head down, trudged back to the stump, followed by her
shadow.

      Under the arbor Angie paused and turned, watching as Wynter
moved the tablet from the stump and took her seat.  Her daughter
bent forward at the waist until she was almost lying on her legs,
wrapped one arm around her knees, and engaged Dragon in a long,
apparently one-sided conversation punctuated with pointing and
waving of her free arm.  As she watched a light slowly grew in
the darkness of her thoughts.

                            Eight of Nine

      Angie wasn't surprised that Wynter had met her at the gate.
Dragon would have given her plenty of warning, though she
suspected that Wynter had been waiting for several minutes, given
the girl's apprehensive look.  She put a smile on her own face,
which was never difficult whenever she saw her daughter.  "Are
you finished with the drawing?" she asked.

      "Uh huh," she said in a quiet voice.  "But, do you mind if
Daddy sees it the same time you do?"

      "Of course not," she said, opening the gate and holding an
arm out for a hug.  She wrapped her arms around Wynter and felt
the girl's muscles shuddering with tension.  "Let's go show him."

      "Are, um....  Are you still, um, mad at us?"

      "I'm not mad, sweetheart.  I'm not sure exactly how I feel,
but I'm not mad at anyone, unless it's at myself."

      Wynter pulled her head back and looked up at her with
brimming blue-green eyes.  "Why are you mad at yourself?  You
didn't do anything."

      Angie let out a wry chuckle.  "I guess that's why.  I didn't
think when I should have.  Your father pointed that out to me and
then gave me time to go think about it."

      Wynter sniffed lightly and nodded.  "He's good at that.  He
did the same for Nurse Carter while you were gone."

      "He did, huh?  I don't suppose he told you what Ellen did?"

      "Well, no.  Daddy didn't.  Nurse Carter told me, but...."
She hesitated and then sighed.  "Well, it's patient
confidentiality."

      "But, sweetheart, I'm the patient's wife," she said,
wondering what Richard had said or done that needed to be kept
confidential.

      "Oh, no!  Not Daddy.  Nurse Carter was my patient.  She said
I could be her psy.... Her psy-chi-a-trist."  Wynter looked
frustrated because she'd stumbled over the word, but she'd kept
her eyes on Angie's.  "She said it helped her to talk about it
and to show me why she shouldn't have been mad at me."

      "Because of what you and your father did?"

      A tear fell out of the corner of her right eye.  "Uh huh."

      "Well, I won't make you break a medical confidence.  Come
one.  Let's go see your picture.  Dragon looks like he wants to
go see it, too."

      "Oh, he's already seen it.  He thought it was scary, too."

      The catch in her throat caught her by surprise.  The Wynter
she had left behind wouldn't have said that a dog would think a
picture was scary.  She coughed once.  "Maybe he just wants to
see if we agree with him."

      Wynter frowned and looked at Dragon.  "Could be."

                               ~ ~ ~

      As one, Angie and Richard exchanged glances, looked at the
drawing again, and then to Wynter.  Hollywood directors might
spend hours reshooting a scene to get such perfectly-timed mirror
reactions.

      "That _is_ scary," Richard said, his eyes jumping back to
the drawing.  "Gruesome," he murmured.

      Angie was still trying to get words out of her mouth.  "I
agree," was the best she could do before her eyes were also drawn
back to the dark shape oozing out of the tree like some
malevolent creature intent on committing great violence and
mayhem with the small girl with the blonde ponytail cowering on
the ground before it.  The drawn girl seemed to be quaking on the
paper as they watched.  Angie felt tears accumulating in her
eyes.  "It certainly gets the point across to me," she murmured,
one hand reflexively curling around Richard's left wrist.

      She felt, rather than saw, his eyes on her because she
couldn't rip hers away from the creature in the drawing.  She
realized she was shaking her head and forced it to stop.  "I...."
She couldn't get any further than that one word, though she tried
three more times.  She gave up, afraid that the next thing out of
her mouth would be a scream.

      "It's the best I could do in the time I had," Wynter said in
an apologetic tone.

      "I...."  Her throat tensed, and she quit again.  Fortunately
Richard knew what to say.

      "Honey, I think it's good that you didn't have any more time
than that.  I think it's perfect for what you felt.  Sometimes a
rough drawing can be more effective at conveying emotions than a
full-blown effort with oils and acrylics and... uh, stuff."

      Wynter's tone turned eager.  "You mean a sort of minimalist
approach is best?"

      "Ummm, yeah, I guess that's what I meant.  Right, dear?"

      She made herself look at Wynter, saw the girl's reaction,
and forced her face to relax.  "What?  Oh.  Yes.  It's, it's...."
She looked at Richard and saw the smile he was directing at
Wynter.  She forced her own smile and gave it as well.  "It's
remarkable."  She willed her eyes to stay on the blue-green ones
and not return to the drawing.  "Sweetheart, would you mind if
your father and I talked alone for a little bit, and then I'll
talk with you, and then we'll all talk together in a family
conference?"

      "Ummm, okay.  What should I do with the drawing?"

      "You...."  _Good question_.  "You can put it in your room
for now, and then go have some cookies and milk if you want them.
Dragon can have a treat, too."

      "Okay."  She hesitated at the door.

      "It's okay, honey," Richard said.  "We just want to talk
now."

      "That's right," Angie added.  "Everything will be okay.
Save a few cookies so I can have some with you later?"

      "Sure.  Should I close the door?"

      "Ummm...."  She couldn't make her thoughts work.

      "Yes, please," Richard said.  "We wouldn't want Dragon to
come ask us to let him out because you were too busy with your
cookies and milk."

      "Smarty pants!" She closed the door behind her.

      Angie gave Wynter time to put the drawing on her desk and go
to the kitchen.  That was her excuse.  Actually she was trying to
find the words, but all she could ask in a trembling voice was,
"Did you see it, too?"

      Richard smiled and shook his head as if dismissing what she
was thinking.  "Don't read too much into it," he cautioned.  "It
was subconscious because she was upset by what was going on.  If
I'd asked this morning or yesterday, I'm sure it would have
looked more like Diana or Uncle Bob than you.  You know as well
as I do that if she thought the creature looked like you, she'd
be in a panic and apologizing from now till breakfast."

      Her voice cracked as she squeaked, "But she really thinks
I'm a monster and would hurt her."  She pressed her face to his
arm and felt the tears roll off her nose.

      "Of course she doesn't."  Richard smoothed her hair in
gentle strokes the way he always did when she was upset.  "Her
subconscious needed to get that out of the way and did so.  If I
asked her to draw a picture of _you_ now, it would be as full of
love as the one she drew for Ellen and me while you were gone.
Trust me on this."

      She wasn't convinced.  But she changed the topic.  "I saw
what you meant as I was leaving the yard.  The only one she has
to talk to is Dragon, and she has to imagine his side of the
conversation.  I think you were right about not considering what
was best for her.  At least, not from her point of view.  We
assumed that what was best for us was automatically what was best
for her.  I can see where you might be right about that."  She
knew that she was babbling to avoid the issue and stopped.  As
she expected, he did not avoid it.

      "And the main issue?"

      She sighed and wiped her eyes on his arm.  "Well...."

                               ~ ~ ~

      The family meeting occurred at the dinner table over steak
and onions with mashed potatoes and green beans and corn.  "Your
father and I want to know what you think about moving to town."

      Wynter stopped chewing and shifted her eyes between the two.
After several seconds she asked, "Town?"

      "Yes.  Your father said he'd mentioned it to you.  Do you
like the idea?  You'd be able to go to school with other
children, uh...." She hesitated when Wynter frowned at the
implication that she was still a child, then continued.  "You'd
have other... you'd have others around to talk to and to play and
study with. You'd get to see more of Suzie, and you'd be able to
talk medical stuff with Kenny Taylor.  Or with his dad and Nurse
Carter."

      The guilty look spread across Wynter's face.  "But Daddy
said this was your dream home."

      "My dream home is wherever you and your father are.  Our
being together is what's important, not where we are."

      "But what about your nature walks?"

      "I can do that in Otter Park.  And there's Barber Beach
where you can go swimming in the summer.  You'll be close to
Wizard Basin and can go skiing there in the winter.  You said you
needed more practice at both.  Suzie's the captain of the swim
team.  I'll bet she'd help you learn to swim better."

      They waited while Wynter resumed chewing, her brow furrowed
in concentration.

      "What about Dragon?"

      "We'll have to find a place with a big yard.  Your father
said that Tom Jerome is moving to Denver and has his house for
sale.  Daddy's seen it before.  I haven't, but he says it's
nice."

      Richard pointed at Wynter with his fork.  "That's right.
It's a nice tri-level with a basement and a huge back yard.  It's
at 1331 West Seabridge Trail.  Do you know where that is?"

      Wynter's ponytail lashed as she shook her head.  "Unh uh."

      "Well, it's in the northwest corner of town, a little south
of the highway and east of the park.  It's small hills with lots
of trees in that area, so that it feels like you're isolated even
though there are neighbors close by.  It's about four blocks
north of Suzie's and three-quarters of a mile west of the
Taylors'."

      Wynter pursed her lips and skewed them sideways in thought.
"I don't think we should move into a tri-level."

      "Why not?" Angie asked.

      "There would be too many steps for Daddy to fall down and
hurt himself."

      Angie snorted a laugh.  Richard made a face and said, "Now
who's being a smarty pants?"

      Most of the mealtime was devoted to the idea of moving to
town, the house there, its neighborhood, and the disposition of
their current mountain home.  The latter was not a problem.
Richard knew a broker who was always reminding him that he had
clients who were looking for mountain homes like theirs and
wanted to be the one called if they ever decided to sell.

      An uneasy quiet settled around the table near the end of the
meal.  Wynter's fork stirred a pattern in the residue of her
mashed potatoes as she tried to find the words.  Finally she
chose some and spoke.  "Um, what about...."  She lost her nerve
and said nothing more, her eyes locked a spot of gravy in her
plate.

      "Your father and I have discussed that, too.  Wynter, I'm
not mad.  I'm still upset, but not mad.  I know it's too late to
change things that have already happened.  Unlike your aunt, I'm
not dumb enough to try.  I could ask that you stop and never
touch each other again.  I'm not dumb enough to think that would
happen, even though you would mean it now if you promised it."

      Angie waited while Wynter sorted that out and raised her
eyes.  Angie cut off the objection.  "Honey, if you're going to
be sexually active, I suppose I'd rather it be with your father
than some stranger.  With your father I can be certain that you
aren't going to suddenly announce that you're pregnant or, worse,
have some terrible disease.  So, I'm not going to put the genie
back in the bottle, but I am going to lay down some rules for the
genie.  Okay?"

      Wynter swallowed, glanced at her father and noticed he was
smiling, and nodded to her mother, her eyes wide.

      "Good.  First, just because I'm condoning it doesn't mean
that I want it flaunted in my face.  There will be no humping in
front of the television while I'm trying to watch the news, and
we're not going to have any family orgies.  Understood?"

      The look on Wynter's face as she nodded told Angie that she
was scaring the girl.  She had sounded too harsh.  She softened
her voice and her face.

      "Good.  Second, Richard is my husband.  I have first claim
to him.  I'm willing to let him have one night a week with you."
She held up an index finger and waved it back and forth.  "In
your room, not in our bed.  Our bed is just for your father and
me.  Okay?"

      Wynter seemed to relax a little.  "Uh huh.  Um, yes, ma'am."

      "Good.  Third, that night shouldn't be when you have school
the next day, which means Friday or Saturday.  I've decided it
will be Friday for my own reasons."

      Wynter nodded.  "That's okay."

      "Good.  Fourth, you know what will happen if _anybody_ else
finds out.  You were lucky with Ellen.  You will likely _not_ be
lucky the next time.  Any time anyone else is around, whether you
can see them or not, you will act like a normal daughter and
father, not...."  She sighed and swallowed.  "Not like lovers.
Whenever you're sure nobody else is watching is when you can bet
your college tuition that someone is.  Understand?"

      "Yes, ma'am.  Nurse Carter explained all of that to me, and
so did Daddy.  I understand that I can't trust anyone else to
keep a secret."

      "Good.  Fifth, you can ask me any questions you want, just
like always, but don't expect me to give you lovemaking tips on
how to keep your father happy.  Questions about relationships in
general, especially since you're going to be in a school and
around other... uh, around young men, are part of my
responsibility of being a mother.  They'll be yours some day, but
I'd prefer that 'some day' not be before you've finished high
school and college."

      "And medical school."

      Angie smiled.  "That's even better."

      Wynter nodded, the concern no longer evident in her eyes and
the hint of a smile teasing her coral lips.  "Yes, ma'am."

      "Sixth."  She sighed.  "Sixth.  Sweetheart, this isn't going
to be easy for me for a while.  I may get upset or grouchy
because of it, but if I do, don't forget that I love you.  That
won't change.  I may not love you in the same manner as your
father does, but I love you as much as he does.  This is a bigger
change in my life than it is in yours.  You may not fully
understand that until after you're married, but some day you
will.  So, when I get upset or grouchy, give me some space and
let me get over it.  Like your father did when he sent me for
that second walk."

      Wynter nodded.  "Sure.  I love you with all my heart and
don't want to make you upset."

      Angie had to bite back the "It's a little late for that."

      "Thank you.  Now:  since you got your way with that, I get
my way now.  You serve dessert."

      Dessert had to wait while Wynter threw her arms around her
mother, buried her face in Angie's neck, and squeezed.

      _That_, Angie decided, _is better than chocolate cake_.

                             Nine of Nine

      The weather had turned uncharacteristically hot on moving
day, three days ago.  The water pump in the new house's swamp
cooler chose that time to die, and McKeown's had to order a
replacement from Houston.  Fans stirred the air in the house, but
were of marginal help.  Angie wore a bandanna to keep the sweat
out of her eyes as she unpacked still more moving boxes.

      Over her shoulder she watched Wynter drop onto the edge of
the living room sofa and slump, her legs straight out and
sneakered feet pigeon-toed inward.  Wynter sat with her arms
dangling down between her legs as if she hadn't the strength to
lift them to the seat cushion.  The breeze from the fans stirred
her bangs and the loose strands of hair that had escaped from her
ponytail.  "I didn't know moving would be so much work," her
daughter said with a heavy sigh.  Dragon collapsed at her feet.
Standing guard in a fur coat while his human unpacked boxes and
put things away had exhausted him, too.

      Angie looked in the open box atop the stack beside her.  Two
more plates remained to be placed in the dining room china
cabinet.  She almost reached for them, but instead she sat beside
Wynter and heaved a big sigh of her own.  "I'd forgotten how bad
it was.  Of course, it's been a long time since I moved into that
house, and we didn't have as much to move then.  We added a lot
of stuff after we'd settled in."  She wrapped an arm around her
daughter's shoulders and squeezed.  "Good thing I have a helper
this time."

      "I think your helper is worn out," Wynter replied collapsing
sideways against her.  "I'm going to sleep the rest of summer."

      "Would you rather have a stranger put everything away in
your new room?  You'd never find half of it again."  She felt
Wynter's body tense momentarily.  Wynter would never allow anyone
else to touch her things.

      "When's Daddy getting back with lunch?  I'm starved."  Her
voice had a slight whine.

      Sunlight flashing off a moving windshield swept through the
window and around the room as Richard's new pickup pulled into
the driveway.

      Angie kissed the top of Wynter's head.  "How's that for
timing?"

      "Any earlier and I'd have been too tired to eat."

      Angie pulled away slightly to look at Wynter's face.  "Is
there any way to please you?"

      Wynter giggled.

      "Besides that."

      "Unh uh.  Daddy says I'm too much like you."

      Angie rubbed one of Wynter's slender upper arms with her
hand and felt a look of sympathy creep onto her face.  "God help
you, sweetheart."

      Richard almost bounced through the door, whistling off key.
"Kentucky Fried Colonels for everybody!" he announced, holding up
two large red-and-white plastic bags.  He looked back and forth
between his two favorite women.  "What _is_ this, a loafer's
convention?"

      "_Some_ of us had to work," Wynter sighed.

      "Well, so did I!  The new pump for the swamp cooler came in,
and I also picked up lunch.  I even carried it into the house all
by myself, without any help from _anyone_ else!"

      "So where's the pump?"

      "You ask about the pump when I bring food?"  Richard sighed
and indicated with a jerk of his head.  "That's still in the
truck.  I was afraid the weight of it plus the weight of all this
food might cause me to strain something."  He saw the looks on
their faces and added, "Kevin _did_ tell me not to overdo it!"

      He looked from one to the other in anticipation as they
rolled their eyes.  "Well?  Doesn't anybody want a kiss?"

      "I do," Angie said, "but Wynter's too tired."

      "Am not," she retorted, sitting upright.

      "I spoke first, slowpoke.  You can wait your turn."  She
rose and threw her arms around Richard.  Still holding the bags,
he crossed his arms behind her and bent her backward.

      Wynter snorted.  After a few seconds she tapped her foot,
crossed her arms, thrummed her fingers on her elbows, and made
impatient noises while her parents stretched out the kiss.  She
looked at her wrist as if checking a watch and thrummed some
more.  She coughed.  Twice.  "Well, Dragon, how about those
Broncos?"  When he looked up and thumped his tail she said,
"That's what I thought, too," and looked at her "watch" again.
"Read any good books lately?"

      She saw a tremble in both her father and her mother.  They
were fighting to hold back laughter.  "I'm all rested up now,"
she announced.  "And if I don't get a kiss real quick, I'm going
to go eat up all the chicken and the smarty pantses will just go
hungry."

      Richard's head jerked back, leaving Angie's tongue exposed
for an instant.  As she straightened, he transferred both bags to
one hand, spread the other over his heart, and staggered
backward.  "Oh, _NO!_" he cried.  "_Not_ the _chicken!_"

      Angie threw back her head, eyelids squeezed shut in anguish,
and pressed the back of one hand to her forehead.  "Oh, mine
_cruel_ and _heartless_ daughter!  Take thy beak from out mine
heart, and put instead a chicken leg in mine stomach!"

      Wynter rolled her eyes upward.  "I can go down to Jimmy
McCauley's house.  He'll kiss me."

      _That_ got their attention.  They looked at each other and
then back to her.  "But I'd rather have you," she said to her
father.  Just before their lips met she added, "And it better be
at least as good as what Mother got."

      Angie took the food bags from Richard.  "Then I guess I have
time to go set the table."

      "Um hmm," Wynter grunted before backing away to
stage-whisper in conspiratorial tones, "I'm not wearing a bra."

      Angie doled out paper plates on the breakfast table, the
only flat surface in the kitchen that didn't have boxes stacked
on it.  Mother's little helper was the one who had insisted that
she would be sorry if she didn't keep one surface, preferably
that one, clear all the time.  She reasoned that Wynter spoke
from recent experience in her room.

      _Jimmy McCauley?_  She didn't know the boy, but he'd been in
front of the house when they first inspected it with the broker.
He'd seemed quite smitten with Wynter at first sight.  When they
began moving in he'd been a constant presence, either
volunteering to help or frequently riding past on his bike and
staring at the house as if looking for someone.  He still checked
once or twice a day to see if he was needed.  His father, Keith,
was a supervisor for the county highway crew and someone she and
Richard knew in passing.

      Ellen Carter said that the twelve-year-old was his father's
son, an upright, courteous, first-class individual and that
Wynter could do far worse for a friend.  Ellen also said that
Suzie Middleton had her eye on Jimmy.  The near future could
become interesting.

      _Napkins_.  She shook her head.  Richard had remembered to
bring the plastic fork/spoon combinations that Wynter called
"foons," but he'd forgotten the napkins.  She reached for the
paper towels.

      Richard's relationship with Wynter still disturbed her a
little, somewhere deep inside, but at least her daughter's first
intercourse had been with someone who cared about her.  Eddie
Thomas had not only been the first to play looky-loo with Angie,
back when she was nine or so, he'd also been the first for
touchy-feely and was the first to screw her, shortly after she
turned fifteen.  And screw her, he did.

      Her first experience wasn't 'making love.' It was getting
royally screwed, and it was practically rape.  He was putting on
the rubber while he knelt between her wide-spread thighs in his
parents' den.  He suddenly realized he was about to cum
prematurely.  He dropped the rubber, jammed his boner into her
virgin hole, and came two pumps later, before she'd recovered
from the surprise and could tell him to get the hell out of
there.  He pulled out, wiped his cock on her bush, held both her
ankles aloft in one hand while he slapped her bare ass with the
other, and said, "Not bad for a beginner." Obviously it was
something he'd learned from talking to other boys because he'd
already admitted he was still a virgin, too.  She'd worried about
pregnancy for almost  three weeks.  It was the last time she let
him touch her.  She was in college and on the pill before she let
anyone else touch her.  Fortunately her daughter didn't have
horrible memories like that of her first experience.

      Angie looked out the kitchen window and sighed, banishing
the memories.  They had a huge back yard, with large trees that
provided shade as well as the sense of closeness to nature she
needed.  They were on the edge of town, and walking trails and
woods and meadows were close by.  But those weren't on her
property.  Well, they were on public property, so they were
partially hers.  She'd been afraid that Richard would want to
move to Denver or Grand Junction or Casper, some place larger and
more boisterous.  She hadn't considered moving down the mountain
to town.  It wasn't too far from their former mountain home.  An
older couple had bought their dream property and said that they
were welcome to return to hike through the woods and meadows and
to dangle feet in the creek any time they wished.

      Wynter would be going to a real school for the first time,
surrounded by people her own age.  She wondered if Wynter would
stabilize at their maturity level or bring some of them up to
hers.  She knew Wynter and thus knew which way to place _that_
bet.

      A sudden, sharp sound from the living room heralded Wynter's
orgasm.  Angie supposed it was better that she got it from
Richard than from someone like Eddie.  In fact, she knew in her
heart that it was better.  But Jimmy McCauley better keep his
grubby little hands off--and other parts out of--her daughter if
he knew what was good for him!

      The good news was that Wynter knew how to handle him.  She
hoped.  They had discussed sexuality and sexual relationships
with a frankness that she'd never expected to experience with her
own child.  She'd certainly never experienced that candor with
her mother.  She had done what she hoped was an adequate job of
explaining men to Wynter.  She loved Richard, but unlike herself,
he was blind to the faults, foibles, and shortcomings of his own
sex.

      Wynter had laughed oddly when she mentioned that fact, but
her daughter had explained that she had somehow dredged up a
funny thought from the past.  But Wynter had admitted afterward
that she now understood men well enough to help her take care of
Richard's needs, especially if she had to leave town again.
"Most mothers aren't lucky enough to have a helper for that,"
Wynter had said.  "Not a helper who wouldn't run off with your
husband."  That had been the thirty-year-old Wynter making a
reappearance after an absence of over a week.

      She smiled warmly at her family as the other three, husband,
daughter, and daughter's omnipresent shadow, trooped into the
kitchen, one looking exceptionally pleased with himself, one
looking dreamily satiated, and one looking as if he were
performing the most important job in the world.

      _No, Dragon, you don't have the most important job.  I do._

                               ~ ~ ~

      While Richard alternated between deep kissing Wynter's mouth
and sucking her sweet little breasts, he had snaked his fingers
up the leg of her shorts.  He was surprised to discover that
Wynter wasn't wearing panties, either.  His fingertips felt soft
cornsilk curls and moisture and heat.  His desire ignited and he
felt the Beast begin to stir, despite the workout it had received
the night before.  His tongue attacked hers with renewed vigor.

      She moaned into his mouth when his index and ring fingers
parted her labia, allowing his middle finger to drag some of her
"natural lubrication" to the hard little pebble of her clit.  He
began gently massaging the tiny button with his thumb while his
middle finger crept up inside her body.  Moments later she jerked
her hips in the way that he'd learned meant she was rapidly
building to a climax.

      Half a minute later her body stiffened and a sharp moan
escaped through the tension in her throat.  Her body convulsed.
His thumb stopped rubbing her sensitive little clit, and his
finger stilled within her hot, pulsing love tunnel.  Three more
jerks, then a pause, a smaller convulsion, another pause, and a
final spasm.  Another moan devolved into a sigh, and she relaxed
against him, somewhere finding the strength to rub her hand down
the back of his head.  His head dropped to her breast and he
gently nipped on the two sweetest little berries in the country.

      She giggled, and after a brief pause said, "I love you
Daddy, with all my heart."

      He raised his head to look into the beautiful blue-green
pools sparkling with love and satiation beneath her blonde bangs.
His free arm squeezed her in a tight hug.  "I love you, too,
honey."  He smiled at her and added,  "And I always will."

      _Why the hell did I feel the need to add that?_ he wondered.
He'd never felt the need to add it before.  He pondered the
question as he released her from the hug and used his index
finger to trace an "X" over his heart.  He idly wondered if it
had anything to do with the Jimmy McCauley remark.

      It was The Moment the Lights Came On.  All of the talk about
first nursing school and then medical school, all of the talk
about her being a wife with a husband and a mother with children
of her own.  All of that, and he'd never seriously understood
that the day would come when he would have to face life without
Wynter as a constant presence in his life.  The day would come
when "home" would be just Angie and himself in the house.

      "Daddy?"

      He returned to the present and looked into the worried face
brimming with love and concern.

      "Did you go away again?"

      A huge smile of love spread across his face, and he felt
sadness horning in around the edges.  "Just for a minute.  I'm
back now."

      "Did you go someplace nice?"

      He dipped his head to give her soft coral lips a gentle
father's kiss.  "Not as nice as the place I came back to."

      She giggled happily, but stopped when he reluctantly removed
his finger from her sweet young body.  He held the finger back as
he pulled her top down.  "The chicken's getting cold."

      She gave him the lascivious grin of a thirty-year-old woman.
"You know how to warm chicks up."

      "Just the kind of chicks that don't have feathers," he said,
popping his middle finger in his mouth to suck it clean of her
juices.  "_Mmmm_.  Finger lickin' good."

      "Smarty pants."

      They laughed, and he wrapped his arms below hers, lifting
her and kissing her in mid-air.  She finished with a
nose-and-lips kiss that suddenly seemed more precious than ever
to him.  He lowered her to her feet and took her hand.  Dragon
fell into place on her other side, and they trooped into the
kitchen to see his other favorite chick.

                               ~ ~ ~

      Wynter rolled her eyes upward.  "I can go down to Jimmy
McCauley's house.  He'll kiss me."

      _Where did _that_ come from?_  She had no idea.  However, it
worked: they were focused on her.  She made a mental note to
remember that trick.

      "But I'd rather have you," she said to her father.  Just
before their lips met she added, "And it better be at least as
good as what Mother got."  The love that sparkled in his eyes
made her heart feel too big for her chest again.

      Her mother took the food, freeing her father's hands for
more interesting activities.  "Then I guess I have time to go set
the table."

      "Um hmm," Wynter sighed dreamily as she closed her eyes and
parted her lips.  Then her eyes flew open.  _I almost forgot!_
She pulled back to whisper loud enough for her mother to hear,
"I'm not wearing a bra."  She almost giggled at the look her
mother gave her, but then her father's lips touched hers and the
world narrowed to the contact of their lips and the feel of his
hand sliding up under her blouse to tease her nipple and cup her
breast   her _titty_   and she closed her eyes again.

      Strange that she should have to remind herself of the
grownup word.  It was the first time since her father had been
allowed out of his recovery bed that she didn't remember.  She'd
been having lots of trouble remembering things since they'd moved
to town, sort of like she was distracted, but there was nothing
to distract her except the endless unpacking and storing of
things.

      Her father's fingers slid inside the leg opening of her
shorts.  She felt his surprised reaction when his fingertips
immediately found soft, cornsilk curls instead of panties.  His
kisses grew stronger.

      "Mmmm," she moaned as his finger probed the firm,
hirsute--she'd just learned that grownup-sounding word and liked
it--outer lips of her pussy while his tongue did the same with
the coral lips of her mouth.  She felt almost like she could see
his tongue chasing hers back and forth between their mouths, as
if it were a movie being projected on the insides of her eyelids.
And then her view shifted and she could see his blue eyes and
light dusting of freckles staring at her from beneath his mop of
red hair....

      _Huh?_  Her father had green eyes, brown hair, and no
freckles.  Why would she suddenly think that?

       _Jimmy McCauley!_  Jimmy had blue eyes, red hair and
freckles.  Her father's fingers must have done something special
while she was distracted because the aching horniness in her
split--her _pussy_--suddenly grew stronger.  The clockspring
began tightening as his finger slid into her hot, slick, wet
pussy while his thumb did _wonderful _things to her clitty.  As
the tension built toward her release point her attention focused
on what was happening inside her knit shorts.  Now the movie on
the inside of her eyelids showed his fingers playing with her
pussy.

      She wondered if Jimmy McCauley's fingers would feel the same
way.

      The clockspring exploded with the best orgasm she'd had in a
week.  She felt her pussy squeeze his finger as her body shook
again and again and again and again at the end, like those
earthquake aftershocks her father had told her about.  Finally
the tension left her body and she was allowed to relax.

      She sighed contentedly and rubbed her hand down the back of
his head, smoothing his hair.  She felt just a little bit guilty
about thinking of someone else when she came.  She opened her
mouth to speak but erupted with a giggle when he nibbled her
nipple.  She tried again.  "I love you, Daddy, with all my
heart."  This time it meant two things.  It was also an apology,
even though he didn't know that it was or why.

      She didn't feel much less guilty when he replied that he
also loved her with all his heart.  But then he added, "And I
always will."  For just a moment that made her feel _really_
guilty.  Then, all of a sudden, the guilt went away and she felt
wonderful!  She knew in her heart that she would always have her
father's love, even if, as he'd said would happen, she found a
boyfriend and later a husband, and she and her father stopped
having sexual activities.  Once again her heart felt too big for
her chest.  She started to say something about that.

      His eyes were unfocussed, as if the eyes inside his head
were too busy looking at something else.  Maybe he was horny,
too, and was thinking of the times she'd repaid his love and
attention.  Well, she could repay him this time, too!

      "Daddy?" she asked, feeling her face pull into a worried
frown all by itself.

      His bright green eyes focused and looked deep into her,
making her shiver with warm feelings of love.  She wondered how a
warm feeling on a hot day could make her shiver, but she filed
that question away for later.  "Did you go away again?"

      She marveled at how he never seemed to smile at her the same
way twice, yet every time that smile made her feel loved so very,
very much.

      "Just for a minute.  I'm back now."

      "Did you go someplace nice?"  She thought maybe his mind had
gone looking for spring flowers again.  She hoped he'd found
them.  If not, she'd draw him some more, and this time she would
take as long as necessary to do a proper job.  She was still
amazed that the very first thing he carried into this house was
her flower drawing.  He put it on the wall of his home office,
right above where his desk would go.

      He gave her a gentle kiss that made her tingle all the way
down to her toes and back.  "Not as nice as the place I came back
to."

      She couldn't have held back her giggle for a million
dollars.  It stopped when he removed his finger.  She felt just a
little bit disappointed when he pulled her top back down over her
tits and felt a frown creep over her face.

      "The chicken's getting cold," he reminded her.

      She sure was.  "You know how to warm chicks up," she
reminded him.

      They had just seated themselves at the table when the
doorbell rang.  "I'll get it," Wynter said.  She had a good idea
who it was.

      She opened the door and had to look up just a little bit to
see blue eyes in an eager, freckled face.  Dragon, standing
beside his human, started wagging his tail.  Dragon seemed to
like the boy, possibly because Jimmy had twice brought him a big
dog biscuit.

      "I was just riding past and, um, wondered if you might,
um--you know, need any, um, help or something," Jimmy said,
shifting his weight nervously from one foot to the other.

      _Anxiety disorder_, she diagnosed. _Again_.  "No, thanks.
We're just about to have lunch."

      "Oh," he said as usual, with his usual disappointed look and
his usual, "Well, if you, um, need anything just let me know.
Bye."

      "Okay.  I will."  She watched the slumped form turn back to
his bike and surprised herself by saying, "Wait a minute."

      He turned to her with an eager look she'd sometimes seen in
Dragon's face, or in her father's face when they were about to
snuggle together.

      "If you can come back in about an hour, I could sorta use
some help, um, unpacking stuff and--and putting it on the, um,
top shelves of my bookcases and closet.  Okay?"

      Wynter had been to Las Vegas once, when her father went to a
geologists' convention.  None of the buildings there lit up the
way Jimmy's face did.  "_Okay!_"

      They said temporary goodbyes, and he raced away on his bike.
Wynter waved and then dropped her hand to scratch behind one of
Dragon's ears.  "You know, Dragon, he's kinda cute."

--

Copyright Russell Hoisington 2003, 2005

Wynter's story will continue in "Wynter & Jimmy"

    ************************************************************

      We who write the stories you like to read have received, and
continue to receive, a great amount of support from the people
here at ASSTR (The Alt Sex Stories Text Repository).  ASSTR's
major service is the archiving of our stories to make them
available to you, the readers.  ASSTR is a non-profit
organization and is staffed by volunteers.  This operation is
costly, and the only source of operating income is from
donations.  I ask that you consider donating if you have enjoyed
my stories.  Your donation will help insure they remain available
for all to read at no cost. You can learn more about donating at
this link:

      http://www.asstr-mirror.org/donations.html

--
Russell Hoisington
State of Confusion

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+