“Fuck,” I muttered and shoved her panties beneath the sink. I turned on the faucet, washing my seed off. “Why did that fucker Clint have to get ...n the goddamn television and make me think it was even remotely okay to lust for my daughter?”I dropped the wet panties into the hamper and strode out of the bathroom, feeling guilty and elated all at the same time. I wished I had the courage to do as Clint suggested: to love who I wanted. But my wife would kill me. My daughter would freak out. I'd be. I have plenty of those friends and at the moment I am not hunting for kitty. Being a man with a sincere heart and a twisted mind I take a close look originally just to scope who she might be. Upon some petty talk in a few letters I soon discover she is not only interesting but in a weird coincidence she also lives nearby my native hometown. Having left that area some years ago in search of who I was, I find it peculiar that my life suddenly circles back to home if only in thoughts. Within days. More

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