"Don't tell too much," he warned. "And don't run out of gin."
Smiling, she nodded agreement.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Lily was in her room, sobbing, when Sonny called from the kitchen.
"I got kicked out. Can I watch your TV?" She swallowed a lump in her throat before saying, "Go ahead."
Her tears dried up. Thoughtful now, she went to the bathroom and washed off the tears. What were Daddy and Kit up to?
Not wanting Sonny to see her pussy blatantly exposed, she got a pair of panties, pretty lace ones, and put them on before going out to the living room.
As she passed the hall phone it rang. She answered, heard her father say, "Honey, you feed Satiny. I'm dining with Kit tonight."
Astonished, she hung up. Never had anyone phoned between the two houses! It was always a yell, or a head poked in the kitchen door. Things sure were screwed up.
A mirror hung over the phone. She fixed her hair in it, then wondered why she was going to all the trouble for Sonny, who preferred screwing his mother?
She stood on tiptoes to examine her skirt length.
It was flattering, she thought, making her look like all legs. Her legs were pretty, she knew that without vanity. She went into the living room.
Sonny's gaze was fixed on the TV screen. Somebody was at bat. She deliberately sauntered across his line of vision, saw him look up, staring at her midsection.
"Hey, is that a dress, Lily? Or a…"
"It's the latest," she said, dropping into an armchair, the arm of which hid her thighs. "Daddy is staying at your mother's for supper. You're eating here."
Their gazes met. His mouth gaped. "Kit-and your-dad?"
She nodded.
She wished the house next door were a greenhouse, so she could see what was going on.
After his second dry martini, Bill switched to beer. The weather was too hot for heavy drinking.
Kit did not go into her troubles before supper. They traded light chatter and when she went to the kitchen to do the steaks, he switched on the TV ball game and watched it without really seeing, sipping beer and pondering Kit's actions. When she called him in he saw that she had changed to yellow shorts and halter. She looked dazzling, those luscious tits and the round ass cheeks and lusty thighs. And her smile across the table, her lower lip flattening, dimples indenting her cheeks, the crinkle marks at her eye corners, the auburn hair wreathed softly about her face.
She had done his steak right seared in a hot pan, still bloody inside. A bottle of cold beer waited beside his plate.
He said, "You know how to make a man feel wanted, Kit."
"Not wanted, Bill. Needed."
He saw a darkness in her eyes. Her troubles again. But let that wait. While eating he studied her, the depth of her bosom and the grace of her rounded arms and slender hands, the sweet openness of her smile. She was one hell of a lot of woman, he thought.
When he had finished the steak he rose and rounded the table, stepped behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders.
He said, "Kit, there's only one place to tell me your troubles. In bed."
She gasped. "Bill!"
"Kit, I've been crazy about you for years.
"I'm terribly fond of you, too. But Bill-"
"I'm out of debt now. I can begin planning a new life. Look, I'm no talker. I go by feel. I always have. The feel of a baseball bat in my hands, or flowers. In bed I'll know if we love each other. If we do, your problems will disappear."
She hesitated for some minutes. Then she whispered, "I trust you, Bill."
She rose from the table and let him lead her to her bedroom.
There he peeled off her halter. Pink-capped breasts spilled free, milky orbs more luscious than he had ever imagined. He unfastened the waist of her shorts and dropped them. See-through panties compressed the broad auburn bush masking her split. His gaze traced her curves.
He loved his daughter, but Kit was a woman.
She was blushing, her gaze downcast, but smiling with pleasure as her hands closed on the waistband of his shorts. She unsnapped, zipped down, and fingered his half-hard dark cock out to the palm of her hand.
She watched it grow up her wrist, a dark cylinder against her pink flesh. Her fingertips nudged his scrotum, her hand forming a trough in which the cock bulged and hardened and snaked its way up her arm. It gave a throb and lifted clear, the head flaring like a cobra's hood.
She murmured, "It's a beautiful cock, Bill."
He chuckled. "The fucker is still growing, Kit."
"You mean it gets bigger than this?"
"Not ordinarily. But Mrs. Pretty Tits has a silky touch that would make a pickle grow to a cucumber."
Kit giggled. "You sweetheart." Her fingers now spiraled softly about the still expanding member.
He loved her giggle, always had, and the way her lush lower lip flattened when she smiled. He liked the way she stood, unashamedly displaying her breasts. They were heavy enough to have a slight hang td them. He cupped his hands underneath, thrilling to their heat and firmness. He would like to place his cock between them and press them in on it, fuck that way. But all things would come in due time and now he was content to explore the satiny flesh and let her toy with his long cock.
She fingered the enormous knob of the head, saying, "That's too big to shove into any woman, Bill."
"Keep up the flattery. A grizzled old bastard like me never hears much of it."
"I really think my hole is too small."
"You poor frightened little virgin!"
She giggled. "Maybe we'd better call the whole thing off; Bill."
"But it might be worth trying."
"I thought you'd never ask!" She turned from him, whipping down her panties. He eyed the white globes of her ass and his cock gave a tremendous jerk. He kicked away his shorts as Kit dropped on the bed and without preliminaries he climbed on, grabbed her knees, shoved them back and apart, mounted her, aiming his overgrown cock at the glistening pink split, a narrow-appearing gash in the reddish tangle of her cunt hair. Not touching it, he simply aimed and stabbed and plunged his knob into the seething portals of her cunt.
"Bill!" she cried.
He jogged, wetting the end, then sank down on her flesh, his cock squirmed into the hottest little cunt he had ever experienced. Her legs closed about him, and her fingers dug into his shoulders. He felt a convulsive cunt grab, like a hand clenching his prick. It began racing. God, he thought, she's coming already! He hipped, sweeping it in and out of her sucking cunt.
"Bill. Bill! I'm coming!"
He rode the billows of her body, her writhing belly and tossing tits, and whacked her hard enough that his balls splatted against her upturned ass. She arched up, jerking, then sighed as though punctured, and collapsed.
He saw her face burn as she struggled through orgasm. Her eyes scrunched shut, her teeth gritted. Then she broke free of it, moaning softly. Her face turned away.
She gasped, "Bill, I'm an awfully hot cunt. I hope you don't mind. I mean, I really shouldn't come the minute you stick it into me but I can't help it. It's not very-lady-like, is it?"
"Oh, fuck being lady-like. I want a broad that every guy in town can see is a hot piece of ass, but knows he can't have. Honey, I intend to keep you bowlegged from fucking, your cunt drooling all day long and full of cock all night."
She laughed. "You speak with such delicacy, Bill."
"You'll have to teach me to be more refined."
"I will, starting now. Fuck me hard, Bill! Shove that beautiful big cock into my cunt like there's no tomorrow!"
He kissed her and then roared into high gear. Joyfully, magnificently sure of himself and of her, he began banging into her hole. Kit bowed her back, reaching for his ass. Clutching it, her thighs vising his waist, her heels digging into his spine, she hurtled up to meet each thrust. Her cunt gulped at his slippery prick. A violent seizure told him she had come again but this did not even slow the action.