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The Best of 2014
by Big Ed Magusson
The Girl With Kisses...
by C. Sanchez-Garcia
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by Daddy X
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by Robert Buckley
Power and Glory
by Rose B. Thorny
By Alice Gray
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By Amanda Earl
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Sex With An Old Woman
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Beating the Gothic Out of Her
Mercy and the Man. . .
By Ann Regentin
What Never Dies
By Arthur Chappell
Tedia, Goddess of Boredom
The Too Beautiful Boy
By Big Ed Magusson
Like a Brother
By Brady Sutton
Girls for Leash
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By C. Sanchez-Garcia
An Early Winter Train
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Readiness Is All
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Are You Kidding?
Mr. Merridawn's Hum
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He Sends His Regrets
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Thornburg Sex Survey
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What are Friends For
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Advice From Miss Millicent
The Baby Doll
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Zachary's Perfect Date
Sheila Discusses ...
It's About Sex
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I Wish My Dick...
johnny's jackoff journal
In Praise of Pussy
Tight, Tighter, Tightest
You Rang Madam?
By Juniper Maclay
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Laying Down the Law
Strawberry Flavoured Joy
The Second Coming
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Naughty Little Girl
Color Less Ordinary
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At the Adult Bookstore
Playing With Barney
Till Death Do Us Part
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Living With It...
The Last Taboo
Paying For It
Sex with Owen
By Nan Andrews
By Nick Nicholson
Grigore & Tatiana
Land of Smiles
By Nikki Isaak
A Rathskeller Jar
The Dread That Stained Kalos
by Big Ed Magusson
Please note: "Methadone" pushes the limits of content restrictions for this site. It contains references to actual incest and pedophilia that occurred off-stage. So why are we featuring this story? Because it is a powerful tale of regret and shame, and a fine example of proficient writing from a talented author.
The day after Thanksgiving throws me for a loop. I awake feeling hung over. My head pounds and I’m drymouthed. I try to eat some eggs, and eventually get some cereal down. My nerves just buzz, and I can’t focus.
By noon, my mind is drifting where I don’t want it to go. My gut churns as it follows. I try to think of other things. I try to distract myself with TV, with chores, with anything. I try. I try a bit harder. I try and I fail.
I know I should call Tom, but I bugged him three times yesterday and I can’t bring myself to pick up the phone. None of the other guys in the group like me and I can’t imagine calling them. I know Dr. Pulasky’s office is closed today.
I hang my head. I know what I should do. I know what I need to do. But... but... I can’t. I just can’t.
A little after one o’clock, I break down and call the agency. I ask if Clarice is available. The phone girl tells me she is and she’ll call me back.
It’s a long ten minute wait.
“Hello, Hugh,” she says when she does call, her voice smooth with that slight Southern drawl I love so much. “I was wondering if I’d hear from you. Rough day yesterday?”
“Actually, it went well. The social worker let me stay an extra fifteen minutes so we could finish our Parcheesi game.”
“Yeah, and Jennifer won! We had a good time.”
My mind drifts, remembering my daughter’s triumphant face. She’d jumped out of her chair and done a little victory dance while her brother and I laughed and laughed. Even her mother got caught up in the merriment, and it was like old times for a bit. Good memories. Really good.
“But you still want to see me today.”
No, no I don’t. I let out a ragged sigh. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”
“Okay... but it’s gonna be an extra $400.”
“Uh? What? Why?” I do my best to avoid pleading.
“Because it’s starting to creep me out. I’m not sure how much longer I can keep doing it.”
“But... I’m not sure I can afford it.”
“You’re welcome to find someone else.”
I struggle against the panic binding my chest. There aren’t any others. At least not at any of the agencies in town. I take a deep breath.
“But... but you’re the best,” I say. “No one plays Jenny as well as you do.”
“An extra $400, or find someone else.”
My shoulders collapse in defeat. “Okay.”
“What scenario do you want?”
“The one where you catch me masturbating.”
“Well, I want to go a little further this time.”
“Mmmm... okay. Give me two hours.”
She hangs up and I look at the clock. Two hours is a long time. Two hours is a long, long time.
My apartment feels small and lonely. Of course it is small and lonely, which is fitting. My case manager has told me I should paint it or put up some posters. I just shrug at her suggestions. I know this is what I deserve.
Besides, it’s enough. There’s a microwave in the kitchen, a TV near the table, a separate tiny bedroom, and plenty of space to store my stuff. What more does a man need? Besides, between alimony and child support and payments to, well, women like Clarice, I don’t have much money anyway. I’m grateful that I don’t need much.
Though the extra $400 is going to hurt. I idly regret having agreed to pay it, and I briefly consider getting online and spending some time looking for other options. But I’ve been down that road before, and Clarice is not only the best, she’s really the only one who’ll do it. Besides, I’ve cast the die now. Time to just ride it out.
So I sigh and do my best to distract myself until she arrives.
Knowing she’s coming has helped me calm down. I have a beer or two to drown the remaining niggling doubts that have arisen in my gut. Beer is good for that because doubts can’t swim. I consider a third, but decide against it because I don’t want to be unable to get it up. That happened once and was a disaster. I felt horribly guilty and ashamed. Clarice actually broke character to tell me it was all right. Well, it wasn’t all right, but I knew why, which helped. I pledged to never let it happen again.
If only keeping other pledges was so easy.
A few minutes before Clarice is due to arrive, I make my preparations. I unlock the front door to my apartment and leave an envelope with the money in it on the table. Then I strip in the bedroom and stretch out on the bed. I get out the panties and sniff them. I smile at the scent. The rest of the day fades away.
When I hear the front door open, I wrap the panties around my shaft and begin stroking. I wait, eager and excited. Finally, after whatever preparations she’s had to make, Clarice opens the door.
I gasp. One of the reasons I love Clarice is that she’s such a petite woman and can shop in the girl’s section of the department store. Which she has. She’s in a pink skirt with a Hello Kitty top, white knee socks, and Mary Jane shoes. Even better, she’s done her hair in pigtails. She is lovely. Radiant, innocent, and lovely.
“Hi, Daddy!” she says. She looks directly at my cock and her eyes go wide. “Oh! I’m sorry. I shoulda knocked.”
“Um, yes, Jenny, you should have,” I say, “but that’s okay.”
“What are you doing, Daddy?” She comes into the room and closes the door behind her. Then she clasps her hands behind her and rocks a little side to side. She is so beautiful.
I remember that she’s waiting for me to speak. “I’m, uh, I’m, well, I’m making myself feel good.”
“You are? Really?”
“Yes, I am.”
“By playing with your pee pee?”
“It’s a penis, but yes.”
“But it’s so big! And so hard! I’ve never seen one like that.”
“Well... would you like a closer look?”
I smile. Clarice knows how to act. I love getting swept up in her performances.
She climbs onto the foot of the bed.
“Take your shoes off,” I say. “No shoes on the bed.”
She gives me a sly grin. Instead of kicking them off, she makes a show of turning and slowly removing them, before dropping them on the floor.
I suck in my breath and my cock turns to steel.
“That’s a good girl,” I say.
She edges closer to my side. Her eyes fall on my hands, slowly stroking myself with the blue fabric.
“So what are you doing?” She asks.
“I’m masturbating. Have you heard that word before?”
She shakes her head.
“Well, it’s a way of touching yourself so you feel good. Really, really good.”
“Are those my panties?”
“Um, yes, sweetie.”
“What are you doing with them?”
“Well, the cotton feels good. Better than my hand.”
She shoots me a you’re kidding look but then slides back into her innocent act.
“Okay, Daddy. If you say so.”
I smile, pull the underwear away, and place it next to my pillow. “Of course, my hand is pretty good.”
“Oh my, Daddy. Your penis is so big and hard! I don’t think I’ve ever seen one so hard.” She turns her wide innocent eyes on me and bats them.
I sigh. My sweetie is back. “That’s what happens when a man gets excited.”
“I’ve never seen a man, uh, get excited before.”
“Oh, you’ll see it plenty in the future, I’m sure. Plenty of men will be excited to be with you. You’re so pretty they won’t be able to help themselves.”
“I’m pretty? Really?”
“You’re beautiful, honey.” I sit up so I can wrap an arm around her in a hug. “Truly beautiful.” I kiss her on the cheek.
She blushes, but lets me hold her and inhale the sweet sweet scent of her hair. After I rub her shoulders a bit, she pulls away and she looks pointedly at my crotch.
“Are you sure I’m beautiful, Daddy? ‘Cause you don’t look ‘excited’ anymore.”
I look down and see that I have gone half-soft. Not that that’s a problem. I start stroking myself again.
“Is it because of me?” she asks.
“No, no,” I reassure her. “It’s okay.”
“You sure? ‘Cause I don’t want my Daddy to not feel good.”
“You being here makes me feel good.”
“But not like you were feeling good before....” She smiles at me, her face beaming with simple joy. “...maybe I can help you, Daddy?”
I hesitate. Part of me says this is wrong, but....
She looks so pure, so full of pure, innocent love. My heart almost bursts at the kindness of her offer.
“I would like that, Sweetie.”
“Okay, but you gotta tell me what to do.”
I lay back with a happy sigh. Jenny wrings her hands, a momentary nervous expression in her eyes, and then tentatively reaches out. Her fingertips graze the head of my cock.
“That’s right, sweetie, go ahead.”
She slides her hand down until she’d wrapped her little fist around my shaft. “Like this, Daddy?”
“That’s right. Now move your hand up and down.”
“Mmmm, that’s good. But make your fist a little tighter.”
“Yeah, oops, not that tight. Yeah, like that. That’s good.”
I sigh happily. Jenny beams at me, pleased with her success. She strokes me a dozen times, her eyes full of joy.
“You’re doing great, sweetie.”
“Is there any way I can do better? Make you feel even more really good?”
I chuckle. “Well, this is pretty good, and you don’t have to do anything else.”
“But I want to, Daddy! I want to!”
“Okay! Okay! You don’t need to whine about it.” I smile at her and make a show of pausing to think.
“Well... there is something you could do....”
“What is it? What is it? What is it?”
“You could lick my penis.”
Her eyes go wide. Her mouth falls open in a perfect O and she pauses her strokes. “Oh... that’s nasty, Daddy. You want me to lick your pee pee?”
“Penis. And it’s not nasty. Your mother does it. Or at least she did, before we got married.”
“Are you sure it’s not nasty?” She tugs my cock once again.
“I’m sure. And it would make Daddy feel really good.”
“Yeah. And it would be special, since your Mommy doesn’t do it for Daddy anymore.”
She pauses and stares into space a moment as she thinks. I can tell she’s trying to decide if she really wants to do this.
“Do you want to be special? Daddy gives treats to special girls.”
She blinks, thinks a moment, and then nods her head.
“Yeah, Daddy! I want to be special!”
I smile and stroke her arm. “Well, then, go ahead.”
Jenny looks tentative at first, as she eyes my cock. But then she scoots down between my legs and crouches onto her elbows and knees. She looks up at me, her face full of wonder and excitement. I hold my cock away from my body and she takes it from me.
Then she kisses it. Lightly, on the head, before extending her tongue and licking it.
“Lick it and suck it like a popsicle. It’ll make Daddy feel real good.”
Jenny smiles at me once again, before running her tongue the entire length of my shaft. I sigh in pleasure before leaning back and closing my eyes.
“I love you, Daddy,” she says right before she puts the entire head of my cock in her mouth.
“I love you too, sweetie.”
I close my eyes so I can savor the sensations. It’s not like I need them open anyway—the images of Jenny sucking me are burned in my memory. Such a beautiful sight. Such a beautiful girl.
She does amazingly well, for someone with no experience. Of course, she’s a talented kid. It doesn’t take her long to use both her mouth and hands at the same time—licking and sucking the head while stroking the base.
I groan and peek down at Jenny. She’s swept her hair to one side so I can see. She’s also looking up and smiling.
“I love you, Daddy.” she says.
“I love you too, sweetie. And you’re making me feel really, really good.”
She grins and gives my cock another suck. I close my eyes once again.
The warmth of her mouth is incredible. So much tenderness, so much love, conveyed in such a simple thing. Shouldn’t it always be like this? I can’t help basking in her affection.
She’s also doing really well, for her first time. She starts stroking the bottom of my shaft with her hand again, giving it a little twist as she does so. I gasp. She does it again, and I realize I’m too close to the edge to stop.
“I’m going to come, sweetie.”
She pulls her mouth off of me but continues stroking. With a strangled cry, I erupt. Semen splatters my chest and my abdomen before oozing down my cock.
“Wow!” She says. “What happened?”
I open my eyes and grin at my little girl. “That was an orgasm. You made me feel really, really good and when a man feels good, he shoots this stuff out of his penis.”
She makes a face. “It looks yucky.”
I chuckle and toss her the panties. “You can clean it up with this.”
She diligently mops me, well not dry, but less sticky. Then with a look of disgust, she sets the wad of fabric off to the side.
“Are you happy, Daddy? Did I do a good job?”
I sit up and once again pull her into my arms. I kiss her forehead. “You did a great job. Thank you.”
We snuggle for a little while, and I kiss her forehead a few more times. She idly touches my cock as it wilts back to softness.
“So... Daddy, do girls shoot stuff out when they feel good?”
I chuckle. “No, it’s very different for girls. Would you like me to show you?”
She hesitates, and then nods.
“Well, get your clothes off.”
Jenny hops off the bed and begins stripping. I’m surprised she’s wearing a bra—I figured she’d be a little too young for that. Her budding breasts don’t need it, so I imagine it’s something her mom pushed on her. She certainly hasn’t started growing pubic hair yet—when she pulls her Hello Kitty panties down, she’s smooth and shiny.
I have her lie down and spread her legs. I hover over her and quickly kiss her nipples. Then I slide down and kiss her inner thighs. She giggles and squirms before I kiss her kitty proper. Then she goes still and waits.
I start with small kisses and licks. I don’t want to frighten my little girl, after all. When I look up, she’s relaxed and smiling, so I lick some more. I glance up again, and she waves her fingers at me.
“Close your eyes, sweetie. Just pay attention to how good you feel.”
“It feels really good, Daddy.”
I lower my head once again, and proceed to revel in the preciousness of her body. She tastes like peaches and sunshine. Her smell reminds me of flowers and sun-dried laundry. I’m so bursting with love that I cannot help but show her how much I love her. I find her clit and focus my attention there.
She moans and rolls her hips. I keep licking and sucking. She thrusts her hips against me and moans again.
“Oh, Daddy! This feels sooo good!”
“It’ll feel better in a little bit, sweetie.”
I continue to lick and suck and stroke her beautiful body. She glows under my attention. Her groans and moans get louder as she tosses her head from side to side. Finally, after flicking her clit back and forth, she arches her back.
I almost burst into happy tears at the sight of my daughter’s first orgasm.
I pull back so I can take in the sight of all of her. One of her pigtails has come undone, but otherwise she just looks tired and happy. I move up next to her and put my head on the pillow. She cuddles into my side. I idly stroke her back as she throws one leg over mine.
Slowly, the rest of the room returns to my consciousness. Slowly, the glow fades, and the regrets begin to surface.
At least regrets for me. Jenny still nestles against me, happy. I’ve made her happy, which is what counts.
“I love you, sweetie,” I say. “You know that, right?”
“I do, Daddy. Thank you for making me feel good.” She pats my chest in a way that’s familiar, but not her.
And suddenly, it’s too real. Clarice, Jenny, Jennifer—they blur together and all the bad memories explode in my brain. Jennifer’s words ring in my ears. Pain smashes into desire and longing. Shame envelops and overwhelms me.
I burst into tears.
Clarice rolls away from me in alarm. “What the fuck?”
I sob deep, and then sob again.
“What the fuck is going on?”
I shudder and try to catch my breath, but fail on the first gasp. After the third, I look up to see Clarice has backed away from the bed and is staring at me.
“That’s what she said,” I spit out between sobs. “Those were her exact words.”
“The oral... wasn’t just a fantasy?”
I’m too shaken to reply.
“I can’t do this.” She gathers up her clothes. “This is sick. I thought I could, but I can’t. I’m not doing this again.” She heads to the door. “Don’t call me ever again.”
“Wait!” I shriek. I lunge forward, which makes her flinch. “I need you!”
“You need help.”
“I’m getting help!” Another sob escapes my mouth. Dr. Pulaski and the guys in my twelve step group flash through my mind. “But it’s not enough!” I cry out. “It’s not enough.”
“Then you need to get better help.” She slams the door behind her.
I collapse onto my side. I let the sobs take me. I let them purge the guilt and the fear and the pain.
I cry, and I cry, and I cry.
When I am finally too exhausted for tears, I open my eyes.
They fall on the panties that I stole yesterday. The panties now soaked in my nasty, awful semen. The panties that, if my case manager found them, would certainly mean serious trouble.
I shudder and feel ashamed.
When the shame has soaked through my soul, I finally stir. I head for the phone, to call Tom. I need help, a lot of help, and he’s a good place to start.
© 2012 Big Ed Magusson. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.
Bio: From the days when he was little, Big Ed has let his intellectual curiosity lead him into contemplations, speculations, and musings about various topics. Then he discovered sex—one topic with depth enough for endless contemplation and speculation. He's still musing about it, and sometimes he even turns those thoughts into fiction. More of his work can be found at BE's Place, www.besplace.com.
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