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Authors: Parker Ford

BOOK: Father's Keeper
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“Carl, no, not today. I--”

“Shh, now. You’ know how this will
go,” he said, knowing me so very well that he slipped two lubed fingers into my
ass right off the bat. None of that preamble of one at a time. Jen would be
ready--hot, horny, willing. She’d balk and she’d bitch but she wanted it deep,
deep down. And it was true. His fingers slipped into me easily and my eyes
drifted shut, my breath caught.

“Don’t, Carl,” I said, but I didn’t
believe me and neither did he. “Don’t,” I whispered as he ran the fat head of
his dick to my ass and pushed just enough so that the flare of pain lit up the
darkness behind my eyelids. But he knew me well and he paused so my body could
relax. Then Carl pushed and the head of him slipped past my unwilling entrance
and he stilled, his cock in my ass, his hands on my back.

“Breathe, Jenny, girl.”

“Don’t call Jenny,” I reminded him,
but there was no real venom in my voice. I didn’t think, I simply moved back
against him. Taking his cock deep into me, my fingers finding the swollen nub
of my clit and rubbing. Carl groaned.

“There she is. My ass girl.” His
laughter was deep and good natured. When I moved back faster to take him in,
his laughter died and a growl grew in its place. He was now a little less human
than the moment before. And that was why I loved it when he took my ass. The
transition between man and beast. Lover and conqueror. Friend and owner. When
he fucked me this way, I was his. We both knew it.

His fingers gripped me a bit too hard
and my body responded at the roughness with a shiver of pleasure. “You’re
coming with me, Jen.” It wasn’t a question but I nodded anyhow.

Carl slammed himself against me hard,
gripping me tight, holding me still. My inability to move, the act itself, it
all blended together to slam me backwards into an orgasm the moment he growled
Jesus
Christ
under his breath.

I shuddered under his moving bulk as
Carl came hard--draped over me, his chest pressed to my back, my fingers still
moving lazy circles over my sex. “See what you do to me?” he said, kissing the
back of my ear and I could only smile.

“Take a shower,” I said with mock
disgust and he snorted laughter.

The shower cut on and I hopped in with
him for long enough to wash my body down and give him a long, lingering kiss.
“Could I persuade you to make me some food?” he asked, stroking my backside
with gentle fingers. Now that he’d had his way he’d treat me like gold for the
rest of the night. Not something I could complain about given the fact that I
got off on the ass fucking almost as much as Carl did.

“Sure. Ham, cheese, lettuce, mayo,
pickles and


“Rye?” he asked tweaking a nipple so I
squeaked.

I grabbed my boobs and dodged him, but
just barely, getting out. “Fine, fine! Rye it is.”

At the bottom of the steps I walked
right into Gil. It was like walking into a brick wall. And just as friendly.

Chapter
4

He gripped my upper arms and hustled
me back to the study. I marched backwards feeling entirely young, stupid and busted
for some reason. “Gil!” I yelped but the air in my lungs stalled and it sounded
more like a wheeze than a word.

He slammed the study door and glared
at me. I stood there, hair dripping fat, wet drops of shower water on my tee.
“What?” I said. But I knew.

He glanced up, the shower was still
running upstairs. He kept his voice soft anyway. Rule of thumb with Gil. The
softer spoken he is, the more pissed off he is. Gil was one of those men who
got quieter as he got angrier.

“Jennifer, if you insist on playing
those kinds of games in my house, then you’ll have to go.”

“Games?” I was confused. I stepped to
him but he stepped back. Twin spots of rage burned on his tan cheeks and his
eyes were darker than normal. His jaw was set in a tense line and I could see
the slam of his pulse at his throat.

“I heard you say no and I almost--”
Gil swallowed over and over convulsively. He looked almost like he wanted to
hit me and part of me wanted to step into the blow. Our dynamics had changed in
the last few years. Partly due to me growing, and partly due to my mother’s
abandonment. I didn’t know how we were with each other or where I stood. It was
frightening and exhilarating all at once.

“You heard? Oh, well

no
didn’t mean--”

“Apparently, it didn’t actually mean
no,” he ground out the words. “But I took it to mean that and rushed up there
and--”

“Oh, god. Oh shit. Gil, I…”

“Jenny,” he said, his voice breaking a
bit. “I came up to see
.

“You saw us?” I breathed.

He’d seen us. Together. In that way.
My stomach bottomed out in a slow spiraling loop, but I wasn’t dense, I felt my
nipples tighten and pucker. I felt the taut constriction of my pussy when I
considered the thought of him watching us. Of what he must have felt seeing
Carl fuck me in the ass. Taking me in his home. Had he ever had Marian that
way? I found it hard to wrap my head around the thought of my mother having
anal sex. But then again, there had been a time that I swore I’d never let a
cock within ten feet of my back door and now I got off on it. The bit of pain,
the fullness, the naughtiness, the power play. I shook my head and turned,
muttering “sorry”.

Gil spun me and shook me a little.
“Don’t say no loud enough to be heard if you mean yes. And why? Why are you
with him? I mean he’s not a bad guy, but Jen--”

“Hey, we’re together because right now
we work,” I said, anger flooding me. Who was he to question me? “At least he
hasn’t left me,” I said before I could weigh my words.

Gil looked shocked for an instant.
Like he was suddenly freefalling and didn’t know why. Then his hand snapped out
and he struck me. Not hard enough to do any real damage but damn sight hard
enough to make me see stars. “Watch your mouth, young lady. This is still my
house and you’re still my daughter,” he said, though is words weakened at the
end.

“You’re not my father,” I hissed. “My
father wouldn’t have been running his hand up my thigh like that. My father
wouldn’t be watching me get laid. My father wouldn’t--” But I stopped myself
there. Call it damage control, call it self preservation, I knew enough
somewhere inside of myself to stop myself right there.

Gil spun on his heels and walked out
of the room. His hands clenched at his sides, his back ramrod straight. I
rubbed my stinging cheek and watched him go.

Nah, you’re father just up and left
you…

* * * *

“You’re not thinking about moving here
are you?” Carl ran his hand through his hair and pulled a belt on.

“I don’t know what I’m thinking Carl.
But I do need money. So I’m going up to John’s Tavern and I’m going to talk
to--”

“Let me guess,” Carl grinned, “John?”

I snorted. “Yeah, you’ve got me. You
can get a beer and I’ll talk to John and everyone will be happy. Gil said John
even has music sometimes since he expanded from just a stag bar to a bar and
restaurant. Maybe you’ll be good to go too. We can save some money, come up
with a game plan. I want something, Carl,” I said. “And it wasn’t in that last
town or the one before that.”

And it’s not playing gig to gig with
you for very little money and no real home
.

Carl shrugged, his Eric Clapton tee
rode high for a moment exposing his flat belly and I tingled at the sight of
that trail of dark hair. I could forget it all. The fight with Gil, not wanting
to waitress, my dis-ease in my life, my lack of direction. I could forget it all
if I just gave in and traced that dark trail of hair with my finger. It would
lead me to a dark nest of pubic hair and a big willing cock. And then Carl
would take me under and away from my worries by fucking me to exhaustion and
then he’d sing softly in my ear as I fell asleep.

Instead I pulled on a red top and
shoved my feet in leather sandals. I put my dark blonde hair up in a loose knot
and shoved earrings in my earlobes. “Are you pissed?” he asked, touching my
chin.

“No. Just tired. Restless. A bit
pissed at myself,” I said. “But not you.” And that was the truth.

I hadn’t seen Gil since he slapped me
and it made me annoyed and sad. I wanted him to see me go. Wanted him to see me
with Carl and remember what he’d walked in on. That was the mean, spiteful,
childish part of me that wanted him to pay with pain for hitting me. The other
part of me wanted to see him so I could tell him I was sorry. That I was sorry
for saying that hateful thing and that I hadn’t meant to be such a bitch. That
it was unfair to make him hurt more than he was.

I blew out a long, shuddering sigh and
shook my head when Carl offered me a cigarette. “Ready?” he asked, leaning in
to kiss me.

At the very last moment I turned my
head and the kiss landed on my cheek. “Yep. I am.”

We left by the back door and walked
the four blocks to the tavern. Every blue trucked that passed tripped my pulse,
but none of them were Gil. I could neither make his pain better or make it
worse, because he was nowhere to be found.

Carl held the door for me and John
hugged me tight. Most of the customers did. The better part of them had known
me since childhood. “Of course I have a beer slinging job for you, little
girl,” John said pulling me a draft and setting it down. “On the house,” he
said.

“Thanks. On both counts. I don’t know
for how long but--”

John waved a meaty hand at me and
yanked two bottles of beer from the cooler for an old man in a felt hat. “Ah,
you can work here as long as you like. I always need help and I always need
good
 help worse. You’re a used to was and now you’re an is again.”

I watched Carl chatting up some guys
with guitars and shook my head, smiling. He was such a music whore. “Come
again,” I said, sipping my beer.

“You used to work here and now you
will again.”

“Ah,” I said.

The thick wooden door swung open and
Richard walked in and my pulse bottomed out. I felt lightheaded for a moment
and John said, “He’s a regular. You gonna be able to handle that?”

I nodded. “It was a long, long time
ago,” I said.

“Yep, it was,” he said and turned to
another waving hand.

“How ya doing, toots?” Richard asked.

He still smelled dark and earthy like
a wet forest in the summer. I closed my eyes for a moment, drinking in the
smell of him. “I’m doing,” I said. “You?”

“Good,” he said, waving a finger at
John who poured him a scotch and soda and tossed him a pack of matches for a
short, fat cigar he pulled out of a carrier. “Married and now divorced. Two
point five kids.” He fired up a match and touched it to the fat end of the
stogie.

“Two point five?”

“ A boy, a girl and a boxer puppy.” He
grinned.

“Ah. Got it. Divorced already.”

Richard shrugged, taking me in with
his gaze. “All it took to prove to us we didn’t belong together was the stress
of a marriage and two kids.”

“And a puppy,” I said feeling an
unwanted tug of jealousy in my heart.

“And a puppy,” he echoed. “And you?”

I nodded to Carl, craved a cigarette
and polished off my beer in two long swigs. “No marriage, no divorce, zero
point zero kids--or dogs--and the proud temporary owner of one musician.”

Richard laughed softly. “Staying with
your mom?”

I studied him. Did he really not know?
I couldn’t’ tell. “She’s not here. She left. I’m at the house though. Gil’s
letting us bunk while I figure where I want the wind to blow me.” I waited for
him to make a blow me joke but he didn’t. I guess people can change.

The band struck up the opening chords
to a classic rock song and Richard turned to me. His green eyes flashed like
uncut stones in the low light of the bar. “So what would it take for me to get
you to ditch your boy toy and go home with me and let me fuck you?”

The jealousy fled and I sighed. “A
miracle.”

Chapter
5

I left Richard at the bar with his
stinky smoke and a confused look on his face. I‘m sure he was wondering why his
patented moves hadn’t worked on me. I gave Carl a key and told him to hang as
long as he wanted. He’d struck up a verbal circle jerk with the local musicians
and I could tell he was having a blast. I was not.

I walked home slowly, in no real
hurry. John was expecting me for work at six the following night. I could live
with that. Six to midnight four or five days a week was doable while I
ruminated my fucked up life.

I let myself in the back, mildly
disappointed but not surprised to find the fire pit dead and no Gil out back
drinking beer and watching the moon. He was pissed--and rightfully so--he’d
probably be gone all night.

I pulled a beer from the fridge and
sat in the dark living room. The lights from the street painted small white
cave paintings on the wall and I studied them in the total silence of the small
house. Somewhere in there, I fell asleep.

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