Dirty True Confessions Read online

  She threw her shoulders back, presenting her little titties.

  The parent lowered his camera. Staring at his little prize, he had a look of unrestrained lust on his face. I couldn’t have been more delighted. My hot little Jenny seemed inspired.

  ***

  Later that week, I found Rebecca in the prop trailer, looking for something. The prop trailer is a small cramped space, filled with boxes of junk. We were alone in there. I reached over her to get at something on a shelf and she caught me glancing down into her cleavage.

  Rebecca smirked. She sidled up close to me.

  “Daddy,” she whispered, reaching between my legs and cupping my package. “My best customer at the soda shop gives me better tips if I let him peek down my shirt.” I grinned. Ignoring the prop I had come looking for, I started to massage her breasts and nibble her pink earlobe.

  “You have to make your customers happy,” I cooed.

  I unsnapped Rebecca’s jeans and pushed her tight pants past her hips. Reaching for her panties, I found her crotch sopping wet.

  “Daddy,” she whispered. “Sometimes I show my customers my panties.”

  I laughed, unzipped my fly, and pulled out my stiff cock. The trailer door was unlocked but I didn’t bother to lock it. Becky was gone and I could act like a fool if I wanted. Turning Rebecca around, I pulled down her panties, and slipped myself inside her.

  “I get better tips if I show my panties,” Rebecca hummed. I felt so much love for her, for the crazy sexual energy she brought to our relationship.

  “Even good girls,” I said, “get to be a little naughty sometimes.”

  I had my cock buried inside her, and Rebecca craned her neck to look at me. She had the neediest expression on her face. It was like she had something to tell me, but she couldn’t find the right words to express herself.

  I wanted to give her something, but I didn’t know what.

  “You can show off your panties,” I said. “Go ahead, give your customers what they want.”

  Rebecca liked hearing that—her needy expression disappeared. She turned back to the front and rocked her hips until she came. She moaned and coated my cock with some creamy goo, the milky color of half-cooked egg white. I was still working toward my own orgasm when she gushed that she didn’t do it just for the money.

  “Don’t be mad, Daddy,” she warned. “Don’t be mad at me—”

  The sound of my ragged breathing filled the trailer as I waited for her to deliver her next line. “I do it because,” she said. “—I like it.”

  I filled her with my juice, then ground my cock into her.

  “I like it, Daddy,” she said over and over. “I like it.”

  ***

  On Valentine’s Day, Jack came into my office all in a huff. I only had a few minutes before my next meeting to order some flowers for Rebecca, but I could see Jack was upset, so I made some time for him.

  “What do you know about Nicki’s boyfriend?” he asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders. Her boyfriend was just a kid. He always seemed to wear a big grin and had a face like an elf. I couldn’t remember his name. Alan? Alex? Something. He took Nicki to basketball games. Dances. He doted on her, she on him.

  Jack reminded me that this boy was probably the same person Nicki had stripped for. I conceded that she might be experimenting with sex.

  We made plans to get a drink. Jack said he had more to discuss with me, but he didn't want to talk at the office.

  At the bar, he brought up Nicki again. He wanted me to get her to break it off with her boyfriend. He said her relationship with him was having a negative impact on her modeling.

  Then he painted a picture of her sex life—the boy’s hand down her panties, blow jobs in the woods, fucking in the backseats of parked cars. Jack said he didn’t know about the marines, but a soldier would never allow such things to happen.

  That hurt my pride.

  He slammed his drink down on the bar and sidled up next to me. Grabbing my arm, he hissed, “Nicki swallows.”

  I didn’t get what he meant at first and chuckled. Swallows what? And then I saw where he was going and winced. I didn’t want to hear this shit, but it was too late to stop him. He dropped my arm and looked across the room.

  “Your daughter’s mouth,” he hissed, “is a bucket.”

  He looked me right in the eye.

  “For that boy’s cum.”

  That was what Jack wanted to tell me. That’s why he wanted to get drinks. Message delivered, he strode from the bar.

  I was angry and went home.

  When I gave Rebecca her Valentine’s gifts, I told her what Jack had told me in the bar, and how he’d said it. She reminded me that he was an artist, given to all manner of craziness.

  “It’s what makes his creative work so good,” she said. “Deep down, Jack really cares for Nicki. He’s just driven.”

  Rebecca was sitting on my lap on the couch. We had to be discreet because Nicki was still home. She was in her cheerleader uniform and running late for a basketball game. Her boyfriend sounded his horn in the drive.

  Nicki grabbed her pompoms, rolled her eyes at Rebecca and me, and then raced out the door.

  Straddling my legs, Rebecca put her arms around my neck and told me about a coach who once scolded her for not raising the hem of her cheerleader skirt high enough. It wasn’t clear to me if Rebecca was role playing, or if she was relating an experience she’d actually had as a teen. Jenny had recently done a photo set where she modeled different cheerleader outfits for a coach, changing behind a screen. The male talent who played the coach wore the most severe look on his face, which really worked for the shoot. Rubbing his chin, he made poor Jenny work hard for his approval.

  “I wanted him to like me Daddy,” Rebecca said.

  I put my hands on her hips and gently rocked her body, using her groin to rub the growing bulge in my pants.

  “I tugged my shorts up real high,” Rebecca whispered. “Let the seam rub against my pussy.”

  She rubbed her boobs against my chest and rolled her hips. She wanted me to fuck her, but I was enthralled by the story.

  In the shoot, Jenny had raised her skirt for coach. She bit her lip and tugged her shorts tight up against her cunt. You could see the fat lips of her labia, pressed hard against the crotch of each uniform she modeled. I loved that set because it reminded me of all the times I’d withheld my approval to get Becky to try some new sexual challenge with me. Sex in public. With friends. Sex with girls. An older, driven man can always get what he wants from an impressionable teenager, especially if he is determined to have it.

  “Don’t be mad Daddy,” Rebecca pleaded. “I didn’t let coach fuck me. I promise, Daddy. I promise.”

  I started to move my hips.

  Before I rolled Rebecca onto her back, I remember coming to the conclusion that Jack was trying to protect Nicki. He was using his position as her agent and mentor to get her to stop letting men come in her mouth. As I drove myself into Rebecca, that’s what I thought.

  Of course, I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Jack was actually trying to get Nicki to let more men come in her mouth. And without realizing it, I helped him. Without me, Jack would never have been able to make the video of a dozen men ejaculating into Nicki’s mouth.

  ***

  I didn’t see Jack at the office the next day or even the next week. He kept up with his work so I didn’t think much of it. I figured he was embarrassed about his behavior in the bar and was avoiding me.

  Rebecca and I were back to fucking like teenagers. Or, should I say, one of us was a teenager and the other was a dirty old man, a daddy who had to deal with all his little girl’s naughty shenanigans. Rebecca told me about the night she babysat for a man who caught her looking at his pornography. On the drive home, she let this parent do a little impromptu photo shoot of her in a wooded area. Rebecca begged me for my forgiveness, confessing how much she enjoyed showing off her panties.

&n
bsp; After we finished, Rebecca lit a cigarette and leaned over me to get the ashtray. I felt her soft breasts on my chest.

  “We should do a different story,” I murmured.

  I was in that dreamy place right after sex and just before going to sleep. I started to wonder if maybe Rebecca had found my stash of pictures on the encrypted drive. She seemed to know each of the shoots Jenny had done.

  “What story do you want?” Rebecca asked. “How about a Santa. . .” She reached between my legs. “Who comes down the chimney and gives me a little present.”

  I stared at her—she had found my stash of pictures. Rebecca blew smoke over my head, then flopped back into the bed.

  “You pick something,” she said.

  I had a meeting in the morning and didn’t want to think about Rebecca going through my private files on the computer. I mumbled that I would come up with something in the morning and then rolled over.

  Rebecca nuzzled up against me. Her hand was between my legs again.

  “Pick something,” she said. “Make it up.”

  She waited a few minutes, then sidled closer. I could feel her breasts and thighs.

  “Pick,” she hissed.

  “An innocent cheerleader and the team mascot,” I whispered, “are kidnapped. By a group of boys from a rival team—”

  Rebecca snorted.

  She reached for my cock and it started to rise, but that was just the Viagra talking. I didn’t want to have sex, I wanted to sleep. Taking her hand from my cock, I said: “—the boys rape the mascot, and then piss on the girl.”

  Rebecca pulled her hand from mine and laughed.

  She swatted me.

  ***

  I was dressed as Santa and my cock was hard, a wet spot growing on the inside of my pants. The little girl sat under the Christmas tree in her jammies. I felt a great wedge of regret in my throat and wanted to hide.

  She pulled her pajama top over her head. I swallowed hard. I saw her frilly little bra. Turning to race away, I found my feet anchored to the floor. I felt the weight of my cock, pressing against my pants.

  I started to panic.

  Looking back, I saw the little girl was gone and now Becky sat in her place. She was wearing her uniform from Howard Johnsons. We were in a motel room.

  Relief washed over me. I sighed.

  She beckoned to me, opening her legs. I could see her slender thighs, the dark shadows under her skirt. She gave me that devilish good girl smile and shifted her hips in the chair. I saw her panties peeking out from under the hem of her skirt.

  I dropped my pants. Felt them pool at my ankles.

  My cock felt hard and thick. I saw a tiny Christmas tree sitting on top of the television set. I could hear holiday music playing softly somewhere, but it was a sad tune. And then her warm mouth was on my cock, scooping me in. I closed my eyes, tensed the muscles in my groin. I reached for her head, sank my fingers into her soft hair.

  Held her head tightly.

  And then her hair seemed to come loose from her scalp, it shifted in my hand as if it were a hat. A sudden, electric pulse of fear in my core—what have I done?

  I looked down.

  Nicki was on her knees before me, my fingers tangled in her silky hair.

  My muscles contracted and there was a brief moment were I could have pulled myself from her mouth. That’s what I wanted to do. That’s what my mind screamed for me to do. Instead I gasped. I found myself holding onto her even more tightly, pulling her to me. I wasn’t ready to let go.

  My body convulsed, and semen gushed from my penis—into my little daughter’s mouth!

  I sat bolt upright in bed.

  Shame washed over me. My heart thudded in my ears, my mouth was dry. The sheets were wet and tangled around my legs.

  Rebecca slept soundly.

  I heard a car drive slowly past the house, its headlights sweeping across the bedroom window.

  The clock glowed: 3:45 A.M.

  ***

  At breakfast I told Nicki she had to break it off with her boyfriend. She turned her head from the toast she was buttering. Her mouth hung open. I told her it was time for her to focus on her studies, her modeling career. The things that were important.

  Her lips were pressed together in a tight line. I knew she was mad, but I didn’t care.

  Rebecca stared at me, a disapproving look on her face. Somehow I felt like an outcast in my own home. But I was serious about the break up. I didn’t appreciate the image Jack had created for me of my daughter’s sexuality. Something was wrong in my house—something was dreadfully wrong—and I wanted it to stop.

  It was a long time coming, but I finally put my foot down.

  A few days later, the boyfriend showed up in the driveway. He tooted his horn. I raced from the garage and found Nicki about to get in on the passenger side. I opened up the driver’s door and pulled that boy from behind the wheel.

  He was terrified.

  I felt bad because his lower lip started to tremble. But I knew I needed to humiliate him, if I wanted him to stay away from Nicki. She tugged on my arm and wailed, but I held onto the boy’s shirt with both my fists. I looked him right in the eye, told him exactly what my expectations were. When he finally drove off, Nicki ran to Rebecca. The two of them holed up in the dining room.

  They kept the door locked.

  ***

  With late spring, I grew depressed.

  Business had fallen off. We had staffed up, and I intended to do more promotional work, but then Jack had flaked out. I hadn’t seen him in weeks. I asked Nicki about him, but she and I weren’t on the best of terms by then.

  Rebecca didn’t know anything. She had long since stopped going with Nicki on shoots.

  Nicki spent most of her days away, working. When she wasn’t working, she was on sleepovers with her friends. I had some business travel that couldn’t wait. When I did see her, I asked her what she was working on, but she wouldn’t say much. She gave me vague answers, shrugs of her shoulders.

  I started to have my own doubts about what I had done with her boyfriend.

  To make everything worse, Jenny hadn’t done a new shoot in months. I kept scanning the forums to see if anyone knew what had happened. She was one of the most popular models and there were lots of discussions, but little information. The last photo shoot she’d made had been a strange one. She’d seem to have abandoned her innocent good girl role.

  She wore a long, flowing, sheer cotton fabric, somewhere out in the desert. The wind whipped her frock between her legs and around her slender body. It was all very dramatic, everything backlit by the setting sun, her hair flying back from her face. The entire cast of male talent appeared in this one—the black amateur photographer, the demanding coach, the good-looking customer, even the kid—but in this shoot they were all just guys. Guys with hoses, of all things. Each of them held a garden hose, gently burbling water. Jenny knelt before them and they hosed her down. The fabric of her dress soon clung to the contours of her body. You could see her areolas, the nubs of her nipples, and even her shaved pussy. One by one, she let each of those men put his hand on her forehead, tilt her head back, and fill her mouth to overflowing, the water bubbling down her neck.

  Sure, it was a little degrading.

  I didn’t mind.

  I had plenty of sets of innocent Jenny. I thought it might be time to get a look at a wicked Jenny. As if to draw a stark difference between these pictures and the others, Jenny wore tinted contact lenses in this set.

  Her eyes were brown. Big brown doe eyes.

  I created an account on the forums. I took the name Big Daddy. I posted about how much I enjoyed seeing Jenny’s little tits, her slim hips. It was an anonymous forum, so I felt comfortable saying how often I found myself thinking about Jenny while I fucked my wife. The guys that posted on these forums were great. We talked about Jenny’s past sets, and I noticed they paid as much attention to detail as me. Everyone seemed to have noticed when she shaved her pubic hair.
We all agreed how much she seemed to enjoy showing herself off. Someone pointed out that she may have gotten a tattoo in the small of her back. You can just barely see something in the shoot she did with the parent in the bedroom. If that was a tattoo, it’s a tramp stamp, the kind of tattoo that a lot of these girls get.

  With her hair wet and sticking to her head, her make up all but gone, I saw how closely Jenny resembled Becky. I realized how much I’d been relying on Jenny for comfort, as well as for entertainment. Perhaps that’s why I’d grown depressed with the spring, the lack of updates.

  I longed for my little Jenny to do another shoot.

  ***

  I came home early one afternoon and found Nicki and Rebecca sitting at the dining room table. Rebecca’s eyes were red-ringed, wet. Nicki looked happier than I’d seen her in a long while. She slid a fat envelope across the table toward me.

  “This is for you, Daddy,” Nicki said.

  Rebecca left the room.

  I opened the flap. Six thousand dollars. I was surprised, but I didn’t really care much one way or the other. I missed Nicki and wanted to hear more about what she was doing. I took her hand in mine and turned it over. She had a tattoo on the inside of her wrist.

  It was a single line of text. I had to screw my head around to read it: Price of fame.

  I grinned at her.

  “I didn’t know you got a tattoo,” I said.

  She shrugged her shoulders. Tilted her pretty head. Smiled.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  Rebecca returned. She was drying her eyes and looked like she had something to say. Nicki got up, rubbed Rebecca’s shoulders. I saw some unspoken communication pass between them. Turning to me, Nicki said she just wanted to drop off the money.