In less than thirty minutes, Glenn was back at the agency, ignoring the envious smirks of the other salesmen who knew his reputation. In less than twenty minutes, he'd sold Marge Whitaker – the redhead's name, he finally discovered – a brand-new expensive Chevy convertible. She'd been so gloriously happy to finally get laid so thoroughly, she signed the papers without a murmur. Nor did she even argue about the price. There was normally an eight-hundred dollar pack – a sum added to the usual selling price, that the salesman could remove by degrees if the customer argued – and in this particular case, Glenn would keep the entire pack, plus his usual commission. He cleared twelve hundred dollars that afternoon and had gotten the redhead's luscious body thrown in as an additional bonus.
"Are you sure you can afford this?" he asked her as he handed her the keys. Her seductive mouth, so eager to go down on him an hour earlier, widened into a superior grin.
"Don't worry about that," Marge retorted. "My parents can afford it."
A rich, horny college kid, Glenn thought with pleasure. He watched her cute bouncing ass sway above her shapely legs as she walked toward her new car, got in, smiled and waved at him and lurched out into the traffic. He'd promised to call her later in the week for another session, and he intended to keep the promise, but he'd bring his briefcase this time.
To celebrate, Glenn took the afternoon off early and went out for a few drinks. He sipped his Scotch moodily in the bar, thinking about his daughter. If he had the guts, he'd get to her before some high school kid did, because he was certain sweet Becky was still a virgin. Why let some clumsy football player or rock musician get to her tender hot cherry before he did? For years, he'd watched her slender body ripen and fill out with tantalizing promise, knowing she'd be a tall, strikingly sexy blonde someday.
"I'll do it," he said aloud, his heart hammering with excitement. He ignored the bartender's stare as he gulped down his drink and ordered another. What the hell, you had to take risks for practically everything you did in this world, so why not go all the way? Why not introduce her to the greatest thing in the world himself? Suck her pussy until she screamed with happiness, then drive it home until she fainted, that was the procedure.
At the first opportunity. It came just a few hours later and it changed all their lives drastically.
CHAPTER TWO
As usual, dinner was a talkative affair at the Marks' house, with Becky doing most of the talking. Jim simply ate and ignored her, while Sheila Marks smiled and laughed in response to Becky's comments. At thirty-five, Sheila was still graciously slender with high, full tits and long shimmering brunette hair.
She's still a great lay, thought Glenn, but she doesn't dream of the trips I'd like to put her through. All these years she'd been the faithful loving wife while he'd played the field and screwed almost everything in sight. Poor, square Sheila. If she knew what he was thinking about their daughter at this moment, she'd faint.
But by the same token, if Glenn Marks knew what his own wife was thinking at that moment, his sleek grey hair might turn white in his astonishment.
On the surface Sheila Marks had everything – brains, beauty, friends, a handsome and charming husband, two healthy children. But through it all the statuesque brunette felt a gnawing, desperate lack until, just a few weeks earlier, Sheila knew what the lack was and decided to do something dangerous about it. What her seemingly wholesome, healthy life lacked was simply excitement, wild thrills she'd never had before. Now she had a lover for the first time in her life, but no ordinary lover. This was a deliciously guilty secret that started a hot glow in her loins everytime she thought about it, spreading its wet passion down her smooth full thighs with sticky heat, there at the family dinner table.
"Okay, what's the schedule for tonight?" Glenn asked, pushing his plate away. "Becky?"
"I'm staying home, Dad. I've got homework, darn it."
"I've got basketball practice," Jim said. "I won't be home until eleven, maybe twelve."
He looked toward his wife, whose luminous dark eyes seemed to flicker with some inner excitement. "The P.T.A. is holding a special meeting tonight," Sheila said. "Sorry, darling, but you can stay home and keep Becky company."
He shrugged, feeling his blood pound. Alone with Becky and an erection that hadn't gone away since that afternoon when he'd decided to act. He'd have at least three hours alone with her, and he told himself he would spend every possible minute of that time sucking and fucking his own virgin-daughter. Risky or not, he couldn't turn back now.
Upstairs, Sheila took a quick shower, her fingers trembling on her hot, heavy tits. Poor, square Glenn, if only he knew! When she'd finished showering, she stood naked before the full-length mirror and slowly applied a dab of perfume behind each knee, on each ripe ass-cheek, all around her silken tangle of cunt-hairs, on each inner thigh and then on each taut wine-colored nipple. She put on a sexy bra and panties, chose very high heels, a simple snug dress and was getting into her own car ten minutes later.
Half an hour after that, the night began to explode with action for almost the entire Marks family. The trouble with the Markses, a neighbor once complained, was that the whole damn family was too good-looking for its own good. The father could charm the feathers off a vulture and sell them back to the dumb bird, and the mother was a knockout who had to be getting propositioned constantly, the boy was already looking like his father and even the blonde girl was blossoming into a raving beauty.
On his porch now, the neighbor leaned back and lit his pipe, wondering what the Markses were doing tonight. He'd watched the mother and son leave, which left the father home alone with the daughter. No problem there, of course – Marks was a gentleman, whatever else he might be, and he'd have to be a little crazy to even think of screwing his own daughter. But there was a neighborhood rumor that Marks had a cock like an overstuffed salami, and that it hardly ever went down. Lucky bastard. Lucky wife, too.
Better a salami than a pork sausage, the neighbor thought with a sigh, and went back to his paper.
Glenn found Becky in her room, studying. She'd taken a bath and was now wearing a yellow terry-cloth robe. She sat cross-legged on the bed, smiling up at him. Glenn lit a cigarette, closed the door behind him and sat down on the bed, resting his fingers gently on her tawny leg.
"Becky, I think it's time you and I had a serious talk, honey. Grown-up talk."
She laughed. "Oh, Christ, Dad, Mom already gave me that one, about two years ago. You two ought to get together. About sex, right? Petting, VD, promiscuity, etcetera."
Glenn took off his jacket and tie, tossed them on a chair, and settled beside her. His voice was serious as he spoke, and his fingers stroked her tanned legs moving very slowly upward toward her inner thighs.
"Becky, are you still a virgin?"
She nodded solemnly. "Yes, Dad. Honest. Boys have tried, but I just turn 'em off. I just haven't found one as slick and handsome as you," she added with a grin.
Glenn shifted back on the bed, so that his back rested against the headboard. He spread his legs and patted the spot between them. "Come sit over here, angel."
Becky shifted up so that she crouched between his thighs, facing him. "Like this?" she asked innocently.
"No, turn around, Becky." Glenn felt his blood singing with excitement as his daughter snuggled between him, with her back resting against his chest. He put his arms around her waist. "Feel good, sweetheart?"
She nodded happily. "Feels wonderful, Daddy. You haven't cuddled me for years. Big handsome lug."
He moved his fingers cautiously up over the bottom curve of her hot tits, hot even through her robe. "Becky, when you lose your virginity, it's going to hurt, baby. Especially if someone clumsy does it."