On the Road to Paradise

A young family’s trip to Disney World takes a horny turn after a scary, overnight, Florida summer storm.

Part 1
(fantasy; self-discovery/masturbation)

Corinne’s body in her hot, new bikini, and a secret surprise discovery in her mom’s nightstand drawer bring her into a whole new world of sensation and sensuality...

>> I slowly untied the strings that held the Duvalle bikini bra tightly to my breasts. I pictured my image in the mirror as what some lucky boy would someday see as I teased him mercilessly before letting him into my body. I pulled the bra away, revealing my rock hard nipples. I tossed the bra to the bed and pressed my palms to my belly. I raised my hands up along my ribcage and, thumbs slipping deliciously over my nipples, cupped my breasts and squeezed, the pressure forcing the nipples outward. I heard myself let out a long, loud, low, "Ooooooh!" My pussy felt like a running faucet wetting my Duvalle bikini bottoms through. I slid my hands down my body and to my waist. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of the bottoms, and turned my back to the mirror. I pulled them over my tight butt and bent at the waist. Between my slightly parted knees I could see myself again in the mirror. My legs and my butt looked just like one of those women in Kally's jerk brother's dirty magazine. I dragged the bottoms all the way to the floor where they stretched around my ankles. I ran my hands up the backs of my legs and felt goose-bumps raise all over my body. My hands approached my buttocks and my fingers lightly grazed my newly shaved pussy lips. Immediately my knees buckled and I almost toppled to the floor.

I stepped to the bed and grabbed the dildo. I originally wanted to take the thing to my room, but I just couldn't wait now. I climbed onto the bed and turned around, placing my rear end at the edge of the bed nearest the mirror across the room. I pulled my knees up to my chest, giving me an absolutely wicked view of myself in the mirror. Given the right lucky guy, maybe those men's magazine poses aren't so far off, after all! I dragged the dildo across my belly and downward toward my pussy. I felt such a powerful yearning in my legs and belly that I wanted to scream. I inched the rubber dick slowly toward my throbbing pussy lips until it started to part them. Then I tipped it up as though it were a man attempting to penetrate me. I reached up and turned the cap, and the ensuing vibration assaulted my body. I gripped the shaft and slid it between the folds of flesh that framed my womanhood. Once the thrumming tip pressed against my clitoris I stopped the downward motion and started to rub the dildo back and forth over the little nubbin. Immediately my hips began to rock back and forth. I had rubbed myself off lots of times before this, but never with a vibrator shaped like a penis and never on the bed where my parents did it! <<

This is a work of pure fiction. Any similarity to actual persons or events is strictly coincidental.

On the Road to Paradise
By Eric Shon

Part 1

DAVE

Why I let my wife and kids convince me to go to Disney World in the middle of summer -- DRIVING no less -- I'll never know. The car held up just fine, but I don't think there's any car air conditioning that can sustain a family of four all day driving through the Deep South. My idea was to leave around three in the morning, hitting the road while there were few people out, avoiding the heat and most of the day-time traffic. We could arrive at our hotel in Orlando in the afternoon, get a nice dinner that evening, and get a good night's sleep in preparation for an exciting first day. However, as I learned in the Army, the best plan never lasts past the sluggish and embattled teenagers. Or something like that.

I was up at two, knocked on Corinne's door as I passed, just like she asked me to, and had coffee brewing for my wife and myself, and for Corinne if she wanted any. At sixteen she wavered between asserting her adulthood -- drinking coffee, earning her driver's license as soon as was legally possible, dating -- and clinging to childhood -- sleeping with a teddy bear, bickering with her brother over who gets the recliner on Family Movie Night, sleeping with her bedroom light on during a thunderstorm. So I made extra coffee, not so much for Corinne as it was for the Thermos. Night time or not, it was going to be a long drive and I would need the occasional jolt.

But, like I said, the best plan . . . Eleanor and I had packed the suitcases early the evening before. She handled the kids' bags, fighting with Corinne apparently over bathing suits that were too revealing. All I heard was El's raised voice saying, "You're NOT flashing every boy at the pool while I'M around, young lady! Put it away!"

I didn't even want to get involved!

On the cusp between thirteen and fourteen, Ben was still pretty manageable, save for his penchant for getting on his sister's nerves. El and I were constantly amazed at how quickly he had been growing in the last few months, and we had noticed changes in the boy. Though still not a problem, his temper did occasionally flare up when El or I contradicted his wishes. He had taken to sulking a lot. I knew what he was going through, and I assured my wife that he would be fine . . . in about 5 years, IF he didn't commit suicide or knock up some neighborhood girl. Of course I was joking, but that didn't prevent El from shooting ominous glares at me for the following few hours. She and I did share a private laugh when we discovered a few of Ben's starched underpants and some crusty socks buried in the bathroom hamper. Either through innocent self-exploration or by sudden night time realization, the boy had discovered the mystery of orgasm and had apparently spent some overtime studying it in the privacy of his room. As my memory played the image of El and myself quietly snickering in the laundry room, my thoughts crept into Corinne's room and I wondered if she also .

I quickly shook myself out of the reverie. I had a trip to execute. It was already 2:30 and El had just gotten out of bed. Corinne was in the bathroom when El got to the door. Cor let her in, and ten minutes later El came back out. "Where's Ben?" she asked me when I handed her a cup of coffee.

"Corinne was supposed to wake him up when she got out of bed." As I had suspected, Ben was going to be a slug this morning. I went up to the bathroom door and knocked.

"I'm BUSY." Corinne was in her usual grumpy mood, especially when her precious bathroom time was being threatened.

"Cor, did you wake Ben?"

"I knocked on his door until he said, 'Yeah.'"

"Okay." In other words, she had not actually WAKEN Ben. She had merely DISTURBED him. I walked to Ben's door and entered. It was a cruel way to wake anyone up, but I had my road trip plan. I flicked on his overhead light and shouted, "Come on Ben! Up and at 'em!"

Ben didn't even flinch. He lay there motionless save for his breathing, turned almost onto his stomach, his face half buried in his pillow. I walked to the bed and threw the sheet off of him. I pressed his arm and bounced him on the bed. He grunted faintly. I leaned to him and, my lips less than an inch from his ear, said, "BEN." This time he flinched.

"Huh?"

"Come on, boy," I said. "Time to hit the road."

"I noannago dizeewrrll . . . ."
"Get up, Ben." I pulled him to a seated position. He stayed up and opened his eyes. "Get yourself together. We're hitting the road in fifteen minutes." I walked out.

Later, El had walked past Ben's open door only to find him flat on his back and asleep again. She finally got him OUT of bed. That's when the fight for the bathroom commenced. "Corinne, honey," coaxed El, "you're going to be in the car all day. No one is going to see whether your hair and make-up are perfect or not."

Finally the door opened and Corinne looked radiant, if not a little sleepy. Any father will tell you that his daughters are gorgeous, but Corinne has a way. She does have her conceits and her doubts, but about her is an earnest innocence that, no matter what she tries -- make-up, driving, introductory calculus -- I can't help but believe she's the best, smartest, and most beautiful I've ever seen. And her hair and make-up WERE perfect. She seemed to have so little make-up on that I couldn't imagine what had taken her so long. But there were traces, so I thought to myself, "You can't rush art."

She saw me and said, "Morning, Daddy!" and reached up and gave me a peck on the cheek.

"Mornin' sweetie," I replied, and I pecked back. She ambled back to her bedroom in her not-quite-knee-length nightie. I was at that moment struck again by how much she resembles her mother. The girl gets her height from me; she's already as tall as her mother and is showing no signs of stopping any time soon. But her shape and her walk all come from El. I recalled a Saturday afternoon last spring when Corinne came out of my bedroom wearing a new bikini. The poor kid was so embarrassed that I saw her in it, so afraid that she didn't look good. As her father I thought it was a little too revealing, but as a man... well, it was a struggle to keep my eyes above her neck! She had no idea that in looking at her I saw El. Back when El and I were dating, back when El would wear them, she had THE body bikinis were made for. And seeing Corinne modeling her new bikini for me that day, seeing her mother's exact same college body on my daughter, I couldn't tell her what I was really thinking. If, when I told her that she was gorgeous and shouldn't be embarrassed, she had hugged me any tighter, she might have KNOWN what I was thinking!

Yeah, Corinne gets an awful lot from her mother – even her taste in not-quite-knee-length nighties. For a brief instant I looked at the back of Corinne's legs and wondered if, like her mother, she wore absolutely nothing underneath her nightie. Again I found myself shaking a stray thought from my head.

Time ticked away. Amid various cries from, "Mom! The creep is hogging the bathroom!" to "Mom! She's ALWAYS in the bathroom! Give me a break!" to "Corinne, you should've taken care of it when you were in there. Now it's Ben's turn, and then your father and I have to get ready, too," time ticked away.

By the time all of the territory wars and ideological squabbles had subsided, all of the wardrobe second thoughts had been third thought, and the car had been loaded, and then unloaded for a wardrobe fourth thought, and then reloaded, we were on our way. It was after six o'clock. By the time we reached downtown, we hit the thick of rush hour.

CORINNE

I've wanted to go to Disney World for as long as I can remember. Of course, when I was a kid we never went. First it was, "Honey we can't afford it this year." Then it was, "Maybe when your brother's a little older." GOD! My BROTHER! If ever there was an excuse for human medical experimentation! Then, "With Daddy's new job, we just can't take the time this year." It seemed like it was never going to end.

But finally this year we got to go! Of course, my mom tried to ruin it all before we even left the house. She wouldn't let me take my Jacques Duvalle bikini to Florida. Can you BELIEVE that?! I spent fifty dollars of my own hard-earned money on that bikini, and SHE won't let me wear it! She wasn't even supposed to see it, but she had to come snooping around in my suitcase. She says boys would practically rape me on the beach if they saw me in it. DUH! Then what's the point of wearing a bikini? Well, I mean, of course I wouldn't want to be RAPED or anything, but getting boys to look at me is half the reason I bought it.

The day I bought it was incredible! The bra part is just three strings and two little triangles, and when I tried it on and looked in the mirror my boobs looked fantastic! They're not very big, but those two little patches of cloth sure made them look bigger. The bottoms are a French cut thong, coming way up over my hip bones around the waist, and with a thin strip down between my butt cheeks. When I tried it on, I saw that I'd have to trim the hairs. They were poking out the sides like crazy. I admired myself in the mirror and, though I've never considered myself model quality, I sure looked like a model that day! And once I got my tan going... look OUT!

I brought it home and wanted to try it on again right away, but first I had to trim. My dad was working and my mom had taken my stupid brother to one of his Saturday soccer games, so I had the house to myself. I sneaked into my parents' room and from her nightstand drawer I grabbed my mom's trimmer and took it to the bathroom. I had never used an electric trimmer before, so I didn't quite know what to do. I certainly wasn't expecting the effect the vibrations would have on me down there! I stripped naked and trimmed only the hairs that stuck out the sides. Afterward I put on the Duvalle bottoms, only to see that the rest of the untrimmed hair made the fabric stick out and I looked like one of the boys in my school's swim team Speedos. So I took the bottoms off and trimmed away some of the bushy thickness. Another try revealed that more hairs were now sticking out from the leg holes. So, more trimming was needed. In order to get to the offending hairs the trimmer head came in direct contact with the puffy lips that are down there, and each time the head touched them, I almost jumped off of the toilet seat! Each time I tried on the bottoms, the pubic hair that remained seemed to make them look weird, so I decided to cut it all off.

If the trimmers felt good when they occasionally bumped into my labia, they were absolutely delicious trimming the labia directly! By the time I was finished clipping all the hairs off, I was literally dripping wet! The bald lips were now all stubbly, so I picked up the razor I use for my legs. I was not about to take a shower just to shave my pubes so I squeezed some of Daddy's shaving cream out of the can he keeps in the cabinet above the toilet and smeared it all over my pubes. Then I quickly shaved the remaining stubble off until both lips were as bare as when I was a little girl. I used a warm washcloth to rinse the shaving cream off of me, and when I stood up, I noticed I was trembling. I've been rubbing myself off since I was about 13, and I was thinking about going to my room and doing it, but only after I was finished trying on the bikini.

I put on my new Jacques Duvalle bikini and posed in the mirror. It was only a bathroom mirror, so I could barely see past my hips. I reached up and placed my hands on my boobs and almost fell over from the sensation. My nipples were rock hard and super sensitive, even through the bikini fabric. I knew I needed to go to my room. SOON! But then I thought about the full-length mirror in my parents' room.

I carefully cleaned Mom's trimmer in the bathroom. Then I walked in my French cut thong bikini through the house and to my parents' room. When I pulled the drawer to Mom's nightstand it turned a bit and jammed. I tried pushing it back in, but it didn't budge. "Great!" I thought. I was horny as hell and all I wanted to do was go to my room and take care of myself, and now THIS! So I jiggled the drawer from side to side while pulling really hard. Suddenly the drawer popped free and flew out of the nightstand, landing on its end and spilling out its contents onto the floor.

I squatted and quickly started putting the objects back into the drawer. There wasn't really all that much; just a few pamphlets like: "Insomnia Relief," "Relaxation: A Matter of Mind," and "An Introduction to Acupressure." There were some hair clips, a book called "Man As Animal," and the box the trimmer was sold in. When I took the trimmer it had been sitting on top of this box, so when I picked the box up and felt something kind of heavy rattling around inside it, I was curious. I looked at the trimmer and compared it to the photo on the box. They were the same. "So, what's in the box?" I wondered.
I opened the box and was shocked to discover a dildo about eight inches long. I had never actually seen such a thing before, but I had talked about them with my friends, and there was no mistaking this one. It was an exact replica of an erect penis. I had never actually seen one of those, either, but I had seen pictures. Well, one picture. A couple of years ago my friend Kally busted her jerk older brother when she found his magazines tucked away behind the TV in his room. Though she had exposed him by giving the magazines to her parents, she had secretly kept one of them and showed it to me and a couple other girls. It was mostly naked women in stupid, impossible poses that only men would dream up, but there was one section that had a gorgeous man and woman together. They weren't actually doing it, but the magazine made it look like they were, or that they were about to. One of the pictures was a close-up of the woman's face in profile, her tongue stuck out and only millimeters from the tip of the man's shiny, erect penis, which she was gripping in her hand. That image burned into my brain. At once disgusting, but at the same time incredibly thrilling, it's an image I recall when I'm alone in my room rubbing myself, like I wanted to do right up to the point when I found the dildo.

The dildo. I couldn't believe my mother The Prude used one! I picked it up and held it. It was cool to the touch and slightly rubbery. "Is this what they really feel like?" I wondered out loud. The long, slim part of it was covered with what looked like veins. The tip of it was shaped kind of like a mushroom and it had an indentation in place of the hole where a man's pee would come out. At one end of the pee-hole indentation the mushroom-head had a little cleft that ran to where the long, curved part met the mushroom head part in a little V-shape, and there appeared to be a thin line like a small vein running from the cleft in the head and halfway down the length of the whole thing. The image from the magazine flashed in my head like a neon sign and I found my hand gripping the dildo as the woman in the photo had gripped the man. I held it to my face and stuck my tongue out, just like the woman, only I placed the tip of my tongue onto that thin line under the head, where the woman in the photo LOOKED like she was going to place hers.

It tasted like rubber.

The fantasy dampened, I looked again at the details of the dildo. At the opposite end from the mushroom-head was what looked like a cap you might find on a bottle. Embossed onto the surface of the cap was a circular arrow, indicating that I could turn it in that direction. "What could possibly be inside?" I wondered again out loud. Still squatting, I turned the cap and the thing came alive in my hand! I gasped and started, and fell on my butt as the dildo dropped to the floor. I picked up the vibrating penis replica and experienced the somewhat numbing effect it had on my hand. My mind raced back to the bathroom and the contact of the vibrating trimmer to my labia, and everything made sense. I found myself trembling again. My bald pussy, throbbing against the tightly constricting French cut Jacques Duvalle thong bikini bottoms, begged for some immediate attention. I put the rest of the items back in my mom's drawer, except for the dildo and the trimmer box, which I tossed onto the bed. I closed the drawer and walked to the mirror. It was obscured in its place on the wall behind the open door, so I closed the door.

Mom appears to have kept every pair of shoes she has ever owned since she was sixteen, and they now hang on the door on not one, not two, but three shoe trees. Daddy named it "The Shoe Forest." He says that, because of the weight of "The Shoe Forest," their bedroom door doesn't close properly. Whatever the reason, the door closed with a low thud where it hit the frame. I walked back toward the bed and turned to the full-length mirror hanging on the wall right next to the door. GOD! That Duvalle made me look INCREDIBLE! Some boys at school had been interested in me last year, but not the boys I wanted to be interested in me. If they could see me now, EVERY boy would want me. Just the thought of it made me wet all over again. I didn't know if I would ever let a boy do it to me, but I sure wanted to try it. Tracy Whitten did it with Vic Rodrigues at Susie Palladini's party in February. She said she had done it before, but I never believed her. But at Susie's I SAW her go into Susie's mom's room with Vic, and they were in there for a half hour. When they came out Tracy dragged me into the bathroom with her, and I SAW her lift her skirt up, I SAW that her panties were gone, and I SAW her wipe Vic's stuff off her leg that was running down from her pussy!

"How does it feel?" I remember asking Tracy.

"Losing your cherry hurts like hell," she said, "but it feels better the next time. And after a while it is absolutely delicious. With Vic just now, I can't even describe it. He came twice and I came three times!"

At that moment Tracy looked so much prettier and so much more grown up than I did, or than I FELT I did. She was a woman and I was still a girl, yet we were both fifteen. I looked at her face and envied her green eyes and her perfect hair. It was then that I noticed what looked like boogers clinging to her hair. "Trace," I said. "You have snot or something in your hair."

She whirled around to look in the mirror. "Hoo! Shit! Thanks Cor! I'd have looked the TOTAL slut if I went walking around the party with cum in my hair!"

"CUM?!" I gasped. "How'd it get in your hair?"

Tracy looked at me in disbelief. "Corinne, I told you Vic came twice. I sucked his cock first."

I gasped again. "You sucked his . . . his . . . THING?!"

"Yeah," Tracy said almost matter-of-fact. "I didn't expect him to come so soon, but I felt him start to go all jerky, so I pulled off 'cause I like to see them shoot. But he shot as soon as he popped free of my mouth. It was a lot, too! I swallowed most of it, but the first shots hit me in the face." With that, Tracy bent to the sink to rinse her hair and her face.

"You sucked his THING?!" I had heard that women did this to men. I had heard that most men enjoyed having it done. It's just that I had never known anyone who had done it. God knows my mother The Prude would never do it! But here was one of my best friends cleaning the evidence from her own hair!

Reliving Susie's party and the after-Vic conversation with Tracy, on top of the vibrating pussy trim, had me trembling again. So, looking at my smooth, trim body in the mirror, I slowly untied the strings that held the Duvalle bikini bra tightly to my breasts. I pictured my image in the mirror as what some lucky boy would someday see as I teased him mercilessly before letting him into my body. I pulled the bra away, revealing my rock hard nipples. I tossed the bra to the bed and pressed my palms to my belly. I raised my hands up along my ribcage and, thumbs slipping deliciously over my nipples, cupped my breasts and squeezed, the pressure forcing the nipples outward. I heard myself let out a long, loud, low, "Ooooooh!" My pussy felt like a running faucet wetting my Duvalle bikini bottoms through. I slid my hands down my body and to my waist. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of the bottoms, and turned my back to the mirror. I pulled them over my tight butt and bent at the waist. Between my slightly parted knees I could see myself again in the mirror. My legs and my butt looked just like one of those women in Kally's jerk brother's dirty magazine. I dragged the bottoms all the way to the floor where they stretched around my ankles. I ran my hands up the backs of my legs and felt goose-bumps raise all over my body. My hands approached my buttocks and my fingers lightly grazed my newly shaved pussy lips. Immediately my knees buckled and I almost toppled to the floor.

I stepped to the bed and grabbed the dildo. I originally wanted to take the thing to my room, but I just couldn't wait now. I climbed onto the bed and turned around, placing my rear end at the edge of the bed nearest the mirror across the room. I pulled my knees up to my chest, giving me an absolutely wicked view of myself in the mirror. Given the right lucky guy, maybe those men's magazine poses aren't so far off, after all! I dragged the dildo across my belly and downward toward my pussy. I felt such a powerful yearning in my legs and belly that I wanted to scream. I inched the rubber dick slowly toward my throbbing pussy lips until it started to part them. Then Πtipped it up as though it were a man attempting to penetrate me. I reached up and turned the cap, and the ensuing vibration assaulted my body. I gripped the shaft and slid it between the folds of flesh that framed my womanhood. Once the thrumming tip pressed against my clitoris I stopped the downward motion and started to rub the dildo back and forth over the little nubbin. Immediately my hips began to rock back and forth. I had rubbed myself off lots of times before this, but never with a vibrator shaped like a penis and never on the bed where my parents did it.

The rhythm of my hips became faster and more intense, and it made it more difficult to keep the dildo in contact with my clit. Every once in a while I could feel the dildo tip slip down against the soft opening to my body. I didn't want to penetrate myself because I wanted to keep my virginity intact for that special boy, perhaps in Florida, as there were bound to be some qualified candidates there! At one point the tip actually did slip down and part the flesh at the opening, and in my effort to remove it amid the bucking of my hips, the vibrations sent icy sparks all through my body. It felt SO GOOD! I had to try it again. I placed just the tip into the opening and pressed my thumb against my clit. Ohh, GOD! The image of Vic Rodrigues suddenly popped into my head, and instead of Tracy Whitten, he was with me in Susie Palladini's mom's bedroom. So I slowly bounced the vibrating dildo tip against the constriction of my vaginal opening, and my thumb reacted inversely to the motion, sending me ever higher up that orgasmic ladder.

All of a sudden my body went haywire. My orgasm felt like it started in my chest and slowly coursed down my body, intensifying along the way. My hips thrashed and bounced, yet I pressed that dildo against me, sending every thump of its vibrations through my vagina and up my spine. I started grunting loudly. I could hear it echoing off the walls of my parents' room. I gripped the dildo with both hands and felt the mushroom head slip in past the constricting ring of muscles. All at the same time I wanted to pull it out, yet I didn't want it to stop. I pulled it out anyway, but pulling it out felt just as good as pushing it in! The next wave of orgasm hit me and I felt my hands and arms begin to piston the dildo in and out of my pussy, only to feel the orgasm become even MORE intense. I screamed out as my hands jammed more and more of the dildo's length into me with each thrust, as each thrust drilled into me even more dizzying pleasure. Somewhere far away during the most intense and amazing orgasm I have ever had, I felt the dildo tear past the fragile tissue that was evidence of my virginity. That was strange. I had always heard that it would hurt, but it didn't. As if I could undo the damage I pulled the dildo out, but it was already too late. And at that moment I really didn't care! I continued to milk that orgasm, massaging my clit and fingering my pussy. Then a loud, low grunt issued from deep within me as my hips and belly began to seize uncontrollably. Though I didn't know a woman could do such a thing, two huge spurts of clear fluid shot in arcs from my body as if from a fountain, and onto the floor. I actually shot cum from my pussy! Following them was a long slow ooze of hot cum from my pussy and over my ass.

At that moment I heard a muffled thud in the house, and then I heard the garage door opening immediately below the window of my parents' bedroom. Daddy was home!

I frantically grabbed the dildo and shut it off, wiped off my juices with my bikini bottoms, and then I put them on. The garage door hummed to life again. It was closing! Hands trembling, I returned the dildo to the trimmer box and promptly got the drawer stuck again. This time I managed to calmly jiggle the drawer free, though it took a few seconds. The door to the laundry room downstairs shut! DADDY'S IN THE KITCHEN! I placed the box in the drawer, placed the trimmer on the box as I had found it, and closed the drawer. I heard Daddy whistling as he entered the living room and approached the stairs. I was trapped! I still had my top off and I couldn't just run to my room; it's on the other side of the house and Daddy would see me! Quickly I looked over the room. Everything was as I had left it. So I quickly put on the bra and tied the strings.

I opened the door to my parents' bedroom just in time to see my dad walking down the hall toward me.

"Oh! Hi Daddy." I tried to sound as innocent as I possibly could.

"Hey, punkin. Whatcha doin'?"

"I was just trying on my new bathing suit and I was using the mirror in your room to check it out.

Daddy approached me across the threshold to his bedroom and placed his hands around my waist. My pussy was still throbbing from the orgasms, and his big hands felt really nice on my skin. Without really looking away from my eyes he said, "You look wonderful, honey," and kissed me on the forehead. He leaned his head back and looked down at me. "Do you feel okay, sweetheart?" He leaned forward again and pressed his lips to my forehead. He leaned back again. "You feel kinda warm."

I had to think quickly. "Umm. Yeah, I'm okay. It's just . . . " Still thinking. "It's just that I'm not sure I like the way this bikini fits me, and I'm kind of embarrassed that you saw me in it."

"Really sweetie, it looks fine on you. Don't be embarrassed."

Spreading my arms, I turned and stepped backwards through the doorway into the hallway, and into something wet in the carpet. I really wanted to get out of this situation, and I couldn't recall how I could have gotten the hallway carpet wet. "You don't think it shows too much?" I began a slow pirouette.

I felt kind of weird modeling for Daddy, seeing his eyes move slowly down my body, across my breasts, down my belly, over my pussy (could he tell I was shaved bald beneath the bikini bottoms?), all the way down my legs to my feet, and then all the way back up and over my butt, but this was the excuse I had come up with, so I had to go with it.
He heaved a big sigh. "Corinne, you're gorgeous. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. But, it's your choice. If you think it shows too much, then it does."

I leapt up and wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. "Thanks Daddy!" And I literally sprinted to my room!

About a half hour later I was absolutely CRUSHED when my dad knocked on my bedroom door and asked, "Honey, why's the carpet wet in my room?"

OH MY GOD! I was SO embarrassed! I had completely forgotten that I squirted on that last, AWESOME orgasm. My face flushed as I scrambled for an answer. "Uh . . . I um, wanted to see how the bathing suit looked wet, so I splashed some water on it?" It came out more like a question than an answer.

Daddy sighed. "Honey, please try to be a little more careful."

"Sorry, Daddy. I didn't realize I had dripped any on the floor." There was no response to that, so I guess my answer worked.

Since then until now, when I've had the chance, I've often sneaked into my mom's nightstand drawer and used that vibrator! Having already lost my "cherry" to it, as Tracy Whitten put it, I don't hesitate to stuff it inside of me so deep that all but the length of it that fits in my clenching fist remains.

My mom never said anything about the Duvalle in the spring when I brought it to wear at the tanning salon, but she flipped when she saw me packing it in the suitcase for Florida. If her reaction really meant anything, then the boys WERE in for it when they saw me.

Anyway, after my argument with my mother I put away the Duvalle in my dresser. Then, early the morning of our trip I put it on as underwear so she wouldn't see it. I figure there's going to be some time I can get away from her in Florida. I just hope there are some cute boys around to appreciate it!

Of course, my parents had to go the cheap way. All my friends who have gone to Disney World flew. But at least we went! My dad insisted that we take off at some outrageous hour of the morning. I mean, CHRIST! It was still dark when he woke me up! But at least I had enough time to fix my hair and my make-up, and to put on the Duvalle in complete privacy. Daddy even let me have some coffee.

My dad wanted to leave at three or something, but we didn't leave until about six. GOD! Those people are so SLOW! I can't understand why it took us so long to get going!

Coming in Part 2: Corinne’s adventure with her Mom’s secret friend wasn’t the only bit of self discovery going on in the house that day; and Eleanor recalls the insane incident in her adolescence that makes her so overprotective of Corinne today.