good like. The ice cream line always worked with the little ones. They all loved ice cream. “Now suck.”
Using her hair as a rein, I pushed and pulled, directing and dictating Nancy’s rhythm. The noises as she gagged and choked only made my dick grow. Hell, her discomfort combined with the made-up visions in my head did the trick. My circulation rushed to my cock, making my dick throb.
The feeling rose from within. Harder and harder, I thrust until I stilled and came. I’d have lasted longer if she were younger.
Leaving my dick out, I kept my legs spread in case I’d make her do it again. “You still know how to suck.” I smirked as she sat back on her heels and wiped my come from her lips.
“Gordy, can I have some coffee?”
I waved my hand. “If you drink it from a dog dish.”
Her dead green eyes came my way.
“Forget it. I feel generous. Use a cup, one from the sink.” No sense wasting a clean cup on her filthy cock-sucking mouth.
As she walked to the stove with her thin dress hiked up, small circular pink scars showed on her upper thighs under the fluorescent lighting. I turned to the ashtray and my burnt-out cigarette. That was okay; I hadn’t needed the glowing red end to make her obey, not today.
I’d lost count of the years since she’d shown up on my porch again.
No one outside this house knew she still existed.
Weekly hits of heroin and cigarettes made feeding her less expensive. The hardest part was finding good veins in her used-up flesh.
“Umm.” The sound of throat clearing caused me to turn.
Leaning against the archway to the dining room with her arms crossed over her breasts and her complexion pale was my oldest daughter, Zella. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her bloodshot eyes were narrowed, and a cigarette dangled from her lips. The kid in her belly was beginning to show.
I fucking hoped this one was a boy.
How many damn daughters could one man have?
Ignoring my exposed dick, Zella looked around the kitchen and narrowed her gaze at Nancy. “When you’re done with your coffee break, clean up this kitchen. I don’t feel good. I’m going to rest today.”
It was obvious from the dishes piled all over and beer cans and pizza boxes stacked on the floor and counters as well as empty cartons and containers that Zella rested every day.
“Too much blow,” I assessed as she moaned.
My daughter shrugged and rubbed her stomach. “I think it’s the kid. Pregnancy sucks.” She scoffed. “Just like our maid.” Her nose scrunched. “This place stinks almost as much as her.”
“How’s the rest of the house?” I asked.
“Fucking mess,” Zella replied.
I spoke to Nancy. “Since you’re upstairs, it sounds like you have a house to clean today. Do a good job, get the house spick-and-span, and maybe we’ll let you lick our dinner plates.”
“Only if you’re a good bitch,” Zella said. “And after I spit on everything.”
“You know, Nancy, if you’re not happy with the accommodations or our bartering system, you could always leave.”
“I want to stay,” Nancy said. “I’ll clean the house. But...first...can...when..?” The cup in her grasp trembled as she looked from me to Zella.
“The bitch wants drugs,” Zella said. “Fucking pathetic addict. Earn it. Bathrooms need scrubbing.”
A sound from beyond the back door caught all of our attention.
We all turned as a knock rattled the door, reverberating through the kitchen.
Though the window inside the door was covered with a sheer curtain, it was stained and yellowed from years of cigarette smoke. Yet the silhouette of a person, a short person could be seen.
“What the hell?” I asked, pushing my dick into my pants. “Find out who’s at the fucking back door?”
No one should be at our back door. Our backyard was fenced. The gate was padlocked from within and the only other entrance was through an old detached garage that stayed locked.
“Make your pet go away,” Zella said, tipping her chin toward Nancy. “Even if it’s a neighbor kid, we don’t want nobody seeing your smelly old bitch.”
“Go. Crawl,” I said, knowing Nancy wouldn’t be seen through the window if she stayed low. When she didn’t move, I added in a more determined hushed tone, “Get your ass downstairs. If you make a sound, you’ll be sleeping standing up because I’ll beat your ass raw.”
Zella laughed.
As Nancy scurried on all fours toward the basement door, Zella followed, and after closing the basement door, she turned the