Chapter 1
Dawn's friends were spending the night again. I really wasn't all that surprised, of course, but it would have been easier on me if they were staying at another parents house. There was some work I had to do tonight, but I guess it would have to wait. Whenever my daughter's friends are in the house, I don't get much done until they quiet down for the evening.
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I was around thirty-eight at the time. I'd been off work for a few weeks after I'd broken my arm on the boats...at least that's what I'd told the doctor. Once I got the sling off, he told me to do some light exercise to help fix the break, and he suggested I go to the Y in town and do a couple of lengths of the pool a day. I'm a big guy anyway, and I've never had much need of exercise, but it certainly sounded like a change from looking for jobs and watching the tube all day.
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Sally was proving to be a bit of a problem. She was the new stable girl I'd hired and I have to admit her work was excellent. Not so excellent was her attitude. She could be belligerent about women's rights one moment and then flirting and teasing the next. Her constant changing was causing a bit of tension among the rest of the stable staff.
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Samira came up out of the underground in a cloud of steam and people. She paused out of the flow of people traffic and placed her briefcase between her feet. Her gloved fingers were clumsy as she pulled out her guidebook and directions and consulted them. They appeared to have been translated from an obscure dialect of French Medieval Mongolian.
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On the hottest, steamiest night of the summer in the big city, I almost met my Maker. I was an undercover cop working for the vice squad, about to observe and take part in a drug transaction outside the Frisky Bar, a gay strip joint in a seedy part of town.
Moving down the alley closer to the drug buy, I moved out of sight of my partner (a mistake), and passing behind a dumpster, I saw the perp and his customer.
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I looked at the time, I was getting excited because I knew I was almost off work and soon would be coming home to you. I had called you letting you know I'd be home in a few hours, so you had plenty of time to bathe and do your thing. You sounded so good and yummy it was very difficult to concentrate on work. I hate it when two hours seems like ten, but that only happens when there's somewhere else I'd rather be, and where I wanted to be was with you.
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Warning -- This story contains parts of incest. If you are offended by it, please continue reading with caution.
As I looked out the window while thinking about my life so far, I saw the child with an adult body, playing around with two other children in the garden. My life in the past few years, had been an emotional roller-coaster. I spent a very normal childhood as a girl except for that my parents died in a car crash when I was twelve and lived my teen years in the protection of my aunt. I lived happy life with my aunt and she was very caring. Everything started to go out of ordinary, when I was nineteen. This is my story; Melissa's story.
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All the things I am going to write about are true. The names have been changed because my Master told me to change them.
Several months ago, I met my Master in a chat room. It seemed he had the attention of the ladies in the room, so at first I didn't think he noticed me. While others threw themselves at him, I was more reserved. Soon he began talking about things I had some knowledge about and we started talking.
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I know I'm like a lot of guys, I have a real fetish for women's panties. I have always enjoyed trying to get a peak at the color and texture of women's panties when they bend over, or are sitting in a chair and their shirt rises up enough to reveal a peak just above their pants. My wife (Diane) says that it is tacky when their panties are visible, but I rather enjoy getting a peak at what they are wearing underneath.
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I was hanging out at my friend Victor's house, we were two 20 year old guys on spring break from college and life was good. His mom was a real sweetheart, divorced but very cheerful about everything still… she was also a total MILF. I mean, she was 45 years old, but her skin looked silky smooth, barely any wrinkles and no gray in her dark brown hair that hung straight to just below her shoulders. And she worked out every day, to old Jane Fonda tapes in the living room. I have to admit, it made my dick a little hard every time we passed by her while she bounced around in her spandex.
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