Shafts of moonlight pierce the louvered shutters of the
room like silver arrows. The songs of exotic birds
erupt from the verdant bush outside the hotel room
window, along with the rush of water over rocks in the
garden. There are random voices, people walking on the
path beneath the balcony.

My senses, dulled by sexual arousal, detect a shadow
moving in the distant reaches of the room. My son-in-
law and I are wrapped in rumpled sheets, the two of us
sprawled on the bed, feeling the warm humid air of
evening in the Hawaiian islands.

Fingers clasped around the shaft of Carlo’s penis, I
force my eyes to focus. My daughter Jan is sitting in
a chair close to the bed, her eyes locked on me, a
smile on her lovely face.

“I heard you making weird little noises,” she says.
“Little tiny mewing sounds.” She mimics something like
a kitten complaining to get out of a box.

“Jan,” I say, moving my hand away from Carlo’s still
erect penis. “I’m so sorry. I had too much to drink.”
I roll over and sit up, pulling the sheet tighter
around my nakedness. I am aware that Carlo is sitting
up beside me now, making no attempt to cover himself
as he lights a cigarette.

“It’s okay, Mom,” she says, a tint of withheld giggles
coloring her words. “Carlo put a little something in
your drink when the two of you were at the bar. Just
something to relax you.”

I notice now that she is partially undressed, panties
and bra, garter-belt and hose, incongruously there is
a lei around her neck.

“Something in my drink?” I say. “Why?”

“Just something to relax you,” she says again. “You’re
relaxed, aren’t you Mom?” My daughter’s shimmering hair
and amethyst eyes have a magic gleam of moonlight
dancing in them.

She rises and moves to stand close beside the bed, her
eyes still holding mine. “Carlo? Why don’t you leave
us alone for just a while?”

I can feel the bed move as he rolls to his feet and
pads away. She bends and strokes the side of my face
with her hand.

“You’ve had a rough time these last few years with Dad
gone. I thought you needed something… special,” she
says.

I can feel a cool breeze, and I can hear the rollers
as they crash on the beach below, white foam glistening
in the moonlight. Her hand lowers to grasp the edge of
the sheet and begins to pull it down. I wonder for a
fleeting moment if I should object, but there is noth-
ing uncomfortable in this. It feels so right somehow,
so I lay motionless as she peels the sheet away from my
body until I am exposed again.

Sitting on the edge of the bed beside me, my daughter
bends down and the soft whisper of her lips caress my
own.

As she kisses me, I look up into my daughter’s eyes,
dazed, wondering what is happening. I am mesmerized by
the glow in her face as she scrapes her tongue across
my lips. As I suck her tongue into my mouth, my hands
take on a life of their own. My palm cups over the lacy
material that covers her breasts, fingers gently
squeezing as I slide my free hand down to the vee of my
crotch.

My mouth grows even hungrier for her tongue as I touch
the wetness between my legs, and I hear myself whimper
softly deep in my throat as she rips her mouth away
from mine and stands.

Still sensuously rubbing myself, I watch in awe as she
removes her bra and panties, and my nostrils twitch as
I smell the womanness of her. I am captured by the
reality of my daughter’s naked nearness.

My hand moves more insistently between my legs again
as she climbs up onto the bed to straddle my head. I
am looking up at the tender bare flesh of her inner
thighs, above nylon, to the pale fleshy lips of her
cunt. It beckons me, and I lift my head to touch the
moist flesh between her pale thighs with my tongue, my
hands cupping the globes of her firm buttocks as I
begin to lick her.

Then she sinks, her lower regions pressing, the slick
wet heat of desire moving, roiling, undulating ancient
rhythms of bliss, my tongue seeking and searching as
she moans somewhere far above my head. My mind a sudden
sea of confusion, lust, and love. My lips, the edge of
my teeth jagged at the swollen lips of her cunt.

She arches her back, and between quick breaths of
passion, grinding pelvis against my face, she pleads
for the pleasure of her release…

————————————-

We lay side by side on the damp sheets, her head
nestled on my shoulder, the tip of one of her fingers
foraging over my nipple, like searing heat. Her lips
touch the side of my neck, then her voice is a muted
whisper in my ear. “Before…” she asks, “…did Carlo
fuck you, before?” She nibbles lightly at my ear lobe.

“Yes,” I say. Then I laugh softly. “There must have
been something in my drink.”

She giggles and slides her hand down from my breast,
over the rise of my stomach, fingers curving into the
hollow between my thighs.

“Are you mad at me?”

“Yes,” I say, laughing, spreading my legs, unable to
suppress a tiny gasp as her fingertip finds that
special spot that so few males even know exists. Her
lips are at my ear again, hot whispers of passion,
laced with her husband’s name. “Was it good? Was it
good when Carlo fucked you? Do you like it when he
fucks you? Do you want Carlo to fuck you again? Do
you?”

There is a throbbing in my ears, as if I can hear the
blood racing through my veins. My pelvis is moving
against her hand and fingers, wantonly, whorishly.
“Yes,” I say, knowing instinctively that the words are
what my daughter is craving now. “I loved it when your
husband fucked me. I love the way Carlo fucked me. I
want him to fuck me again.”

She rolls over on top of me, looks into my eyes as she
squirms her belly against my own, her eyes glazed by
lust, a mirror image of my own. Then she is scooting
down, her tongue leaving a trail of wetness against my
fevered skin. As she positions her head between my legs
I hook my them across her shoulders, then close my eyes
as her tongue begins its passionate exploration.

I’m surprised to hear someone moaning, even more sur-
prised when I realize it is myself. My fingers entwine
the blonde curls of my daughters hair as I pull her
face deeper against me, encouraging, pleading. Then my
eyes open as I feel a hand urging me to turn my head.

Carlo is standing close beside the bed, muscular,
hairy, one hand at the nape of my neck, the other
holding his stiff penis, guiding the uncircumcised
head to my lips.

The masculine smell of him permeates my nostrils now,
but I willingly part my lips to suck the bulbous head
of his cock into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around
the shaft of his maleness, lifting a hand to cup gently
at his sac as I suck him deeply and tenderly. It has
been long. So very long.

I am aware of my daughter’s mouth leaving me, my hips
arching in an attempt to recapture, already I miss the
sensation of her tongue. Still holding Carlo’s penis
in my mouth, I am able to see her from the corner of
my eye. Standing beside the bed, her eyes wide as
she watches me sliding my lips up and down the length
of her husband’s cock, her hand busy between the
alabaster paleness of her thighs as she watches.

“Fuck her, Carlo… I want to see you fuck her,” she
says, her voice sounding thick and muted.

I can hear music floating in through the open window
as he pulls his swollen penis from my mouth and roughly
pushes me down onto my back. Then his weight is upon my
sex dampend body, his hands urging my legs apart,
grunting as he pushes his hardness against the swollen
lips between my legs.

My eyes meet with those of my daughter as he enters me,
and her lips form the unspoken words “I love you….”