Best In Show

"We really appreciate you paying for the wedding, Ben," Amy said. "You didn't have to."

"Of course I did. I'm your father," he said.

"You're my stepdad."

"That may be, and you may be 25, but you're still my girl," Ben said. "Besides, your mom would've wanted me to."

The two sat quietly. Amy stared at her white Russian, stirring it slowly with her straw. "Do you remember how mad you used to get when I blew bubbles in my milk?"

"I remember telling you that I was going to swat your butt if you didn't stop," Ben said. Amy leaned forward, puckered around the tip of the straw, and blew until her cocktail threatened to bubble over.

"You're not too big for me to turn you over my knee," he laughed. "Finish that up and let's get you home. Big day tomorrow."

***

The pickup truck bounced and jostled along the back road leading to the cabins Ben rented for the wedding party. Maybe it was the humid summer evening, maybe it was the vodka in her belly, but

Amy felt warm, comfortable, familiar. How many times had she ridden shotgun in her stepdad's truck? The feed stores, the 4H meetings, the fairs. He never complained about any of it. All of those blue ribbons they brought home, and not once did Ben let on that he had anything to do with it. He always made sure she felt special, that she was the winner.

She looked at him, hands on the steering wheel, a slight smile on his lips. Even in the dim evening light Amy could make out the muscles in his thick forearms. He earned them. She reached over and placed her hand on his arm. "My girl," he said. "My girl."

***

The sound of the engine cutting off stirred her awake. Her head leaned on Ben's shoulder. "Wake up, honey, we're here," he whispered. She pretended not to hear him. "Come on, Tiger, we need to get you to bed." She groaned and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Okay, okay. I remember this game," he whispered, and he worked an arm around her back and another under her knees and lifted Amy from the truck's cab.

Ben unlocked her cabin and laid her down on her bed. He took off her shoes, and she rolled onto her side and hugged a pillow. "No more pillow hugging for you after tomorrow," he smiled. She pretended not to hear him. He patted Amy's thigh. The thin silk of her skirt slid across her smooth leg. He'd almost forgotten how good a woman feels: her skin, her delicate clothing.

He flattened his hand upon the skirt and rubbed the silk along her thigh, quickly glanced toward Amy's face. She didn't react. Back and forth he rubbed, hesitant, gently. The hem of her skirt rose, as did the goose bumps on her sleeping leg, as did the quiet fire within him. Ben could hear his own heartbeat as he pushed the fabric aside with his pinkie and touched Amy's thigh.

Her skin was so warm, her thigh so firm. The sight of it, the feel---almost like he was out of his body,floating, dizzy. He ran his hand further upward, her skirt bunching over her haunch. Amy pretended to stir. Ben jerked his hand away. She rolled onto her stomach, thighs slightly parted, skirt around her waist. All that stood between them was a thin layer of white satin pulled tautly over her ass. He sat still, afraid to break the spell, afraid to disturb her.

Minutes passed, or so it felt to Amy. She willed him to touch her again, but no matter how hard she thought he didn't move. He just sat there on the edge of the bed, watching her sleep. She began to rock her hips slightly, almost microscopically, barely clenching her firm muscles, hoping he would notice.

He did. Ben reached with a weathered hand and touched Amy's calf. She took advantage of the moment, pretending that his heavy arm pushed her legs apart. He stared at the wet satin cradling her sex. They were lost in a cabin in the woods, trapped between their past and her future. He couldn't lose her, too, but he didn't want her to be alone.

She trembled as his fingertips traced the inside of her thigh and found the plump curve where leg and satin met. Upward moved his hand, fingertips pressing beneath the elastic of her panties and cradling her firm ass.

Amy's hips grew bolder, pressing into the mattress and then against the strong hand on her behind, the one that she could always depend on; the one that kept her in line, kept her safe. She wanted him to know how much it all meant, how he was the man she measured all others against. She lifted her hips high and Ben's hand slipped between her legs and into her secret place.

She was so wet, so open, plump lips like her mother's. She moved like her, too, pressing his fingers deep into her, finding a way to position her clit against his hand. He could smell her, hear his fingers sliding in and out of her, the whimpering moans.

And then she rose to her knees and shoved her panties to her thighs. "Fuck me, Daddy," she moaned. "Please."

"Amy—"

"Please, Daddy. It's okay. Please."

Ben removed his pants and knelt behind her, his hairy legs tickling her thighs. Amy reached between her legs and found his cock, so hard, so ready. She pressed the head against her opening and settled onto his thick shaft. He wrapped his hands around her hips, watched his cock disappear inside of his stepdaughter, her asshole pulsing as her vagina clinched.

She was gone, out of her mind with lust. Nothing mattered but her daddy's big cock filling her up, stretching her. Amy couldn't remember the last time she was this wet. She pounded against him, every thrust emboldening her more.

"Am I your girl?"

"Yes?"

"Say it."

"You're my girl."

"You like my ass?"

"Yes."

"Spank it. Please, Daddy. Spank me."

He slapped her behind.

"Harder."

He slapped her again. A red handprint rose on her pale skin. "You always took good care of me. I'm going to take care of you," she said. She turned around and took him into her mouth. He tasted of cunt and sweat. She pulled him out of her mouth and squeezed just behind the head. His slit peeked open and a clear pearl of precum emerged. She squeezed again and the fluid ran. Amy leaned down and caught it on her tongue, then she shoved the head of his penis between her lips.

Only one other woman fluttered her tongue like that, he thought, almost like a machine milking him,sucking and fluttering that bundle of nerves just below the head. Only one other woman. Was it genetic, or had she taught her daughter?

He tried to shut off his mind and enjoy the sensation. He looked down at the sight of his stepdaughter trying to stretch her tiny mouth around his girth. She looked up at him with her big, brown eyes and said, "Am I doing a good job, Daddy?"

"Too good," he said.

"Are you going to give me a present?"

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean," she said, and she swallowed him again.

"Not yet," he said. He touched her face, pulled his shaft from her warm mouth and gently pushed her back onto the bed. She even tasted like her mother. He tugged her labia between his lips and flicked his tongue across her swollen clit, slipped two fingers into her pussy. She rode them, pressed them against that secret place that no man had ever found. But he did.

"Stop stop stop," Amy whispered.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I just want you inside of me." She pushed his hand and head away.

He straddled her, beard wet with her juices. She kissed his chin. Ben grabbed the base of his penis and guided it into her. He pressed his sweaty chest against Amy's breasts and pushed into her.

She grabbed at him, clawed his back, bit his shoulders. They moved together, Amy rising to meet each thrust. "Oh," she cried, the orgasm welling inside of her. "Please, Daddy. Tell me I'm your girl."

"You're my girl, Amy," he said, and the waves shot through her, her pussy pulsing, body tense. Ben's hands gripped her hips tightly, his pace quicker and quicker, and then she heard him moan and felt the spasm before he relaxed, breathing heavily. "You'll always be my girl," he whispered in her ear.

***

After the wedding Ben jumped into his truck and headed back to the small ranch the three of them once shared. Amy's blue ribbons still hung near the fireplace, next to the old photos of her posing with her prize winning livestock; next to the photo of his stepdaughter and her beautiful mother. They were both gone now, but for the first time in many years he felt like everything was going to be okay.