” Beth stood up and was about to take off her pants and then she looked at me and sat back down. She smiled, more to herself than to me and said, �...You like being my dad’s slut? You like having him tell you what to do?” “Yes.” “Would you like being my slut too? Would you do what ever I told you too?” I only hesitated for a second before I answered, “Yes.” Beth leaned back in the chair, smiling, knowing she was going to get what she came for. “Good, I’m so glad you’re willing to be my slut too.. " Why? What about . . .?" I kissed her on the lips to silence her. I did not want her demanding her fantasy. That is not how the best fantasies happen, by surprise and without expectation. They come to you, drifting out of the unseeable future like a single snow flake settling down onto your tongue the day before Christmas, an harbinger of a fulfilling fantasy. I had figured that out. Besides, what was about to happen to her was going to exceed her fantasy by several orders of magnitude . . . I. More

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