Father, Will you Sculpt Me?

She blushed. Frank smiled and his cock hardened. She finished undressing by doing a silly striptease to her rendition of the classic burlesque stripper song. She sang,

"Waaa. Bump Ba. Ba . . ."

"Emm. . .very nice," Frank grunted as he watched the performance. She ended her dance nude and facing away from him. She looked over her shoulder, gave him an exaggerated wink, and she shook her pretty tush for him.

The room was as hot as the other day. Frank stripped down to his underwear. She could see that his hard dick leaned heavily into the thin fabric distorting it. She said, "It's hot in here and it can't be comfortable for you stretching those boxers. Go ahead and take them off. I'm not cloths minded. Bare with me," she quipped with a smile.

"That's funny. You're quick today," he complimented her. "Sometimes it feels good to be free of textiles."

He slipped his shorts off and was nude like his daughter. He said, "Okay, princess, up on the table and let's get started."

They went through the same procedure as the other day. He cobbled together a rough copy of her on her hands and knees. Then he looked at and touched her body to gain the necessary knowledge to refine the piece. It was a slow, painstaking process.

"Go ahead and take a break, Charlotte," Frank said angrily as he wiped his brow. He was frustrated. He turned away from the work.

"I think it's coming along nicely," she said as she viewed the clay model.

"It's crap," he shouted. He stormed about the room.

She was confused. She stretched and worked the kinks out of her body. She watched her dad. He was walking slower. He seem to be calming down. She asked in a quiet voice, "I don't understand. The proportions look right. It looks like me. What is the matter with it?"

Frank ran over, he pointed to the face and said, "There. The eyes. There's no spark. The whole thing has no energy!"

Frank threw his hands up in the air. She looked at him not understanding what he was talking about. He said, "Remember what you wanted? The statue was supposed to capture your post-orgasmic bliss and the good feelings you had about yourself. A great piece of art speaks to you. If I was any good, the statue would express to the viewer that you felt desired, confident and sexy."

"Yes. That's what I want. I want to recreate how I felt that one special night. Cody was so proud of me. He said he wanted to remember me like that forever. But, Dad, I don't feel like that now. Now I'm struggling to hold the pose for you."

Frank stood still and listened to her. Charlotte sat down and said, "Abby and I were insulted and dissed at a party. But I got back at the mean women. I took over the party. I ruled! I showed some rich, big city bitches that they had messed with the wrong woman. It was the most fantastic night of my life."

Frank nodded and said, "The statue should reflect that. I need that attitude, the energy you had that night. Otherwise, I'm doing a black and white rendition of a technicolor moment."

"Oh, I see. I don't know how to give you that now."

"Well, you could do as actors do. They create the emotional state they need so they can 'honestly' be the character they want to present. We need to re-create your state of mind from that evening. Be victorious for me now. You need to experience and express those emotions. It sounds to me like you were angry and determined to get revenge."

"Yes. That's right."

"Get back into position on the carousal and remember that night. Let's take it step by step. Close your eyes and visualize that night. You're at the party. What are you wearing?

"A new short black dress and my tallest high heels."

"Remember how pissed off you were? At who and why? Remember what you did to get back at them?"

Charlotte nodded. She focused on those memories. It didn't quite do the job for Frank. He said, "This is helping some, but I'm only getting a weak signal. I need more. Our senses can often trigger vivid memories. Have you ever heard a song and had it trigger a memory?"

"Yes. Whenever I hear "Take my Breath Away" it reminds me of when I was fourteen and I was first kissed by a boy, Johnny Sampson. We were slow dancing . . . Ohh! I can still remember how scared, excited and grown-up I felt when he leaned down and put his lips on mine."

"Yes!" Frank said excitedly. "That's exactly what I'm talking about. Whenever I smell cotton candy I'm reminded of my first kiss. Franny Miller and I were at the circus. We shared some cotton candy as we walked and talked. Then she pulled me behind one of the tents and we made out."

They shared a smile over the cute stories of their first kissed. Then he said, "Those are powerful, palpable memories. Actors use their own memories, memories like those, to breathe live into their performances. Was there a particular sight or sound that night?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

"Maybe we can re-create your emotions by repeating your actions. What did you do that night?""

"I had anal sex with four strangers. Oh God!" she gasped. "Did I just say that out loud?"

She began to cry. He came to her side and comforted her putting an arm around her. She felt awful, so embarrassed. He gave her a moment and then said, "You don't think you invented swinging, do you? Or that you're the only member of the family that's been to an orgy?"

She stopped crying and looked up at him through teary eyes.

"There's a reason your mother and I built this place out in the country away from everyone and everything. It wasn't just because of the beautiful view."

"No?" she said softly. She was incredulous.

"Yes. Your mother was a very sexual person. We had sex parties up here with friends and strangers. She pulled more than a few trains."

He paused and smiled as he remembered those days. Charlotte stared at him in disbelief and said stubbornly, "No. Mom didn't!"

He laughed and said, "I know. It's hard for you to believe. You think of her as your mother. She made dinner and organized great birthday parties. But she was a woman. A beautiful woman in touch with her sexuality. We had a great life and a great, adventurous sex life. Her party nickname was the 'Hummingbird Express.' I think you know why. She told me she taught you everything she knew about anal sex, including humming, because of your conditions. Did you ever wonder why your mother blushed so when our friends would compliment her on her fabulous Hummingbird cake and why they mentioned it so often?"

Charlotte did have childhood memories of that. People often praised her mother for her Hummingbird cake. She said, "Well, yes. I didn't understand why they raved on and on about it. I didn't particular care for it. I'm not a fan of pineapple."

Frank laughed. "Your Uncle Joshua gave her the nickname one night after she had anal sex with five of us. She hummed happily the whole time. All the party people thought it was a cute name. We thought it was funny to say something about 'humming' or 'hummingbirds' when she was in mixed company. It embarrassed the hell out of your mother when I or our party friends would sneak in that oblique reference to anal sex when her regular friends or church members were present.

"Your mom was a good sport. She rolled with it and began to make Hummingbird cake. She'd bring one it to every party or church social. It become her signature dish.

"That was a long detour, but I wanted you to know your mom and I were swingers long before you ever heard the word. I'll never look down on you or be disappointed in you for expressing your sexuality."

She teared up. He enveloped her in a long, loving hug. He held her for a while and then said, "So if you said, 'Fuck. I'll show them!' and took four guys up your ass, I'm not angry or disappointed with you. You're just following an old family tradition. By the way, your mother's record was eight in one evening."

He wiped away her tears and said, "Is that what happened?"

"Yes."

"And afterwards, you felt powerful and Cody was so proud of you? That's the evening you want to memorialize with this statue?"

"Yes."

"Maybe we need to re-live that night so you can experience and project those emotions. If I detect them, I can infuse the statue with that energy. Is that what you want?"

"I do. I absolutely want a perfect record of that evening."

She said it plainly, unequivocally knowing fully what she had committed herself to. They were going to repeat that night. They were going to have anal sex. She turned to him and looked deeply into his eyes. She took his hand and placed it on her breast. Then her hand dropped into his lap and grasped his erection. She leaned in and kissed his lips, long and hard. When she pulled back, she said without any hesitation, "Let's re-create the magic of that night."

It was on. Frank rolled her on to her back and made love to her. They had long kisses and gentle caressed. His mouth found her breasts and he made her gasp. He slid down her body and tasted her sex. She sucked his cock for her pleasure and brought him to full hardness.

They both knew the routine. She had to be on fire to really enjoy anal. Foreplay prepares a woman for sex. Extensive foreplay is necessary to prepare a woman for anal sex. He was a master, and she was the lucky, grateful recipient of his skills.

His lips, tongue, hands and fingers went everywhere. He played her like a Stradivarius. At the end, she was on her stomach. Her heart raced, her breathing was short and sharp. Her pussy flowed as he stretched her asshole with his fingers. When he was satisfied that she was ready, he slapped her tight ass and said, "Get into the position."

She eagerly crawled into the pose. She thrust her ass out and looked over her shoulder at him. He gave her clit a final pinch and said, "Start humming, darling. Daddy's coming home."

He tapped the end of his dick on her anus. She hummed "Take my Breath Away" as he slid inside her. First, just the tip. She groaned as her sphincter parted and said, "Oh God! That feels so good."

He slowly buried his cock in her ass. She took it like a champ. It wasn't long before she had her head resting on her arms as he drilled her. She came early on. It was just a little orgasm. He ignored it and continued to pound her. She rubbed her clit and he twisted her nipples. She felt a big one building. When it hit her, she saw stars exploding like fireworks going off in her head.

"Oh! Oh My God! Ohhhhh!"

Her moans were answered by his grunts. When he felt her body climax and spasm, he exploded inside her. The world went silent. An orgasmic rush raced through their bodies. He collapsed on top of her. They were a puddle of pulsating flesh.

After their orgasms had run their courses, the moment came. She lifted her head and looked over her shoulder and smiled at her father. Frank saw it. He felt it. She had a glow about her. She oozed satisfaction, confidence and pride. The energy was there! The triumphant look!

Her eyes, her face and her demeanor said it all: I rule! I fucked the shit out of you and gave you one of the best orgasms of your life. Powerfully and confident don't even begin to describe me. I'm fearless and I can accomplish any task I set my mind to. And on top of all that, I'm beautiful, desirable, so hot and so sexy!"

Frank jumped off her. His waning cock abandoned her gaping hole. He rushed to the clay model and shouted, "I see it. I understand. Let me transfer it to the piece. Stay as you are!"

His actions were frantic, yet decisive. He worked quickly. She laughed at him as he busily made alterations here then there. He was in his own world. He was infusing the statue with her energy, her soul.

February 11, 2000:

Cody and Charlotte had finished a nice, candlelit dinner. He said, "It was nice of your dad to give us his place for the weekend."

"Well, let's just say he owes me big time," Charlotte said with a chuckle. She added, "He's a real romantic at heart. He believes it is a beautiful thing when people come together. He thought since Valentine's Day is on Monday this year, we'd enjoy an early, extended celebration. He's at our house spoiling the kids and we get some alone time here."

Cody leaned over and kissed his wife and said, "He's right."

"Emmm. That's nice," she said when their lips parted.

She pointed to the large box wrapped in red paper covered with hearts on the coffee table and said, "He helped me with your present this year. Go ahead and open it."

Cody grabbed for the box. It didn't move. "Wow! What's in there? It must be heavy."

He ripped off the decorative paper and had to lift off a cardboard shell to reveal his gift.

"Oh my God. That's you. It's beautiful," he gushed.

The bronze statue shined. It was an excellent rendition of Charlotte. It looked so real you almost expected it to talk. She said, "Remember our New Year's Eve adventure? You said you wanted to remember that night. I had this made to immortalize it."

"This is great. It's just how I remember you from that party. It's uncanny. So your dad sculpted this? I'm glad you had it made."

As an afterthought, he added, "Was it awkward being nude and posed like this in front of your father?"

"Fathers and daughters have a special relationship. Working together to make this statue took our relationship to a new, deeper level. We are both happy and thankful for how it brought us closer."