“He did what?” I gasped, unable to believe my years.
“Tony and I, he… we… Oh, Mum!” she cried, her eyes unable to meet mine again.
My daughter Isobel had just blurted out the almost unbelievable news, that shortly after his affair with fifty-one-year-old me had come to an abrupt end, my first, completely unscrupulous lover Tony had started fucking her instead.
And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Tony had been a close family friend throughout most of her life and was the father of her most recent and most serious boyfriend, Jack.
What’s more, for the last few months, that same Tony had been trying hard to get back into my own knickers again, less than a year after unceremoniously dumping me.
“Christ, Izzy! He’s more than twice your age!” I burst out, amazed.
“I know!” she wailed. “I didn’t mean it to happen.”
“Did he force you?” I asked, horrified.
Izzy shook her head.
“It wasn’t like that,” she confessed. “He took me by surprise the first time but after that…”
“After the first time?” I exclaimed. “How many times did it happen?”
Izzy made to reply but I held up my hand to prevent her.
“No, don’t answer that,” I snapped, though I was desperate to know.
“We were both a bit drunk,” Izzy, mumbled, her tears finally coming under control. “It was an accident; well, an accident the first time. Please don’t tell Dad! Or the boys. Jack would dump me in a second and I’d die!”
“Of course I won’t tell anyone. Trust me. Mutually Assured Destruction, remember?”
Izzy grinned wanly as the sound of a car engine starting then pulling away came from outside the window.
“Do you want to tell me how it happened?” I asked. “Would it help to talk about it?”
Izzy nodded. “I think so.”
“Come downstairs. Your Dad’s just gone to play golf.”
Still snuffling, she followed me down the stairs to the large, bright kitchen. Pete had indeed gone out, so we had the house to ourselves. I put the kettle on.
“Tea?” I asked then thought again. “Unless you feel the need for something stronger?”
“Tea is fine, Mum,” she replied, perching on one of the bar stools and leaning heavily on her elbows. “And wine. I think we’re going to need them both.”
I messed around rinsing and putting tea in the pot, giving Izzy time to pour two large glasses of wine and calm down before the serious conversation started. The water took an age to boil, but I was patient and soon placed two steaming mugs of hot liquid on the breakfast bar then took my place on the other stool and looked closely at my daughter.
Her face was pink and puffy from crying, her body language somewhere between fearful and confrontational.
“So, when did it all happen?” I asked with as reassuring a smile as I could muster.
Izzy took one of her many deep breaths.
“After Simon dumped me. I wasn’t in a good place for a long time, remember?”
I nodded. She had been in a bad state having first been caught cheating on her then-boyfriend with Simon, then soon afterwards been dumped again when he had been sent a video of Izzy and Steve fucking.
It was one of a series of videos, some of which I had seen. At that moment I was using the threat of publicising them to make my daughter keep my own affair secret.
“I came home from Uni and needed a shoulder to cry on,” she continued. “I wanted to talk to you, but when I got home, I found you and Dad were away. I’d come all that way on the train and needed to talk to someone I trusted, so I went to see my friends. I tried Julie‘s house but no-one was there so I went round to see if they were at their Dad’s flat.”
“And Tony was on his own?”
“Sort of. There was a lady there when I arrived, but she disappeared as soon as she saw me on the doorstep. Tony looked very unhappy at first, but when he saw how angry and upset I was, he let me in.”
“What happened then?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“I asked where everyone was. He told me they had gone away for the weekend with their Mum. I started crying.”
“How did he handle that?” I wondered.
Tony wasn’t known for his sympathetic nature with the kids, but Izzy wasn’t a kid anymore. Given her response, I had clearly misjudged him.
“Mum, he was so lovely,” she said pleadingly, looking me in the eye. “I sat on the sofa, he poured us both large drinks and listened while I poured my heart out. He didn’t judge me, he didn’t interrupt. He just kept listening and making little comments that made me feel better.”
I had experienced Tony’s caring, listening side myself. It was at least partly genuine, but in my opinion, the thought of conquest was never far from his mind. But maybe I was being unfair.
“You told him what had happened? That you had cheated on Steve and been dumped?”
She nodded.
“I just had to talk to someone, and he was the only one who would listen.”
“Did you tell him why you got dumped the second time?”
She nodded again.
“I told him about the videos too. I must have been quite drunk by then because being honest seemed the right thing to do. It seems crazy now, but he was such a good listener and at the time, I felt much better having told someone.”
“What did he do then?”
“He came and sat next to me on the sofa and held my hand. He put his other hand on my knee. I felt even better.”
“What were you wearing?” I asked suspiciously.
“Just my normal skirt and top,” she replied innocently.
I sighed. For my skinny, sporty daughter, a normal skirt was so short it barely covered her knickers and her usual top was skin-tight, revealing to the world the braless outline of one of the few pairs of boobs in Britain smaller than my own.
She was dressed that way now and thought nothing of it. Tony would have seen it as an invitation as, I suspected, would most men.
“Did he try to touch you?” I asked, suspiciously.
“Not then, Mum. We must have talked for an hour or more. Well, I talked while he listened. It was long enough for him to have opened a second bottle of wine anyway. By the time I had stopped crying, that bottle had nearly gone too. I was far too drunk to walk home, and Tony was too drunk to drive me, so he suggested we finished the bottle and I spent the night in the spare room. He said there was a pair of pyjamas in there already.”
“So what happened?” I asked
“He went to get the room ready while I washed my face in the bathroom and tried not to look like a tiny tears doll. When I went into the bedroom, he had pulled back the bed, laid out the pyjamas and lit a candle on the dresser. It was so thoughtful of him I felt like crying all over again.”
I snorted but for all his faults, Tony could be very sensitive when he needed to be. It was just that his motivations weren’t always what the recipients of his kindness thought they were.
“Can I be honest, Mum?”
“It’s probably best if you are.”
“I… I’ve had a bit of a crush on him since I was a teenager,” she confessed, clearly embarrassed. “When he started paying me all that attention those feelings all came back again. I felt a bit star-struck and went all gooey inside.”
It wasn’t the big surprise Izzy clearly expected it to be. I had suspected it years ago, just as Tony’s daughter had paid Pete a great deal of attention when she was in her mid-teens. In both cases, I had thought it nothing more than the confusion every girl feels when she is beginning to grow up, and I had believed she had got past it long ago.
It seems I was wrong.
“I went into the bedroom and turned to kiss him goodnight. That’s when it all went wrong.”
“Went wrong?” I asked sharply.
“Maybe not wrong, Mum. It was just when everything changed.”
With many breaks for snuffling and severe embarrassment, the story gradually emerged.
Full of emotion and wine, Izzy had gone up to Tony to kiss him goodnight as had happened many times in their past. Well, perhaps not in their recent past. There had been some confusion about which cheek to kiss first which resulted in the goodnight kiss being on his lips instead.
There had been a moment of shock, a giggle of embarrassment then, without either taking the lead, their lips had met a second time and a longer, fuller kiss had developed.
“I don’t know why I did it Mum, but I put my arms around his neck and kissed him back.”
It had been an instinctive reaction, exactly as I mine had been that first day. Unsurprisingly, Tony had taken it as permission to go further as he had with me.
What man wouldn’t, let alone a man like him?
From there, things had progressed rapidly and with the same crushing inevitability I had experienced. With a terrible feeling of déjà vu, I pictured how as they kissed, Tony’s hands had quickly found their way onto my daughter’s bottom, kneading her cheeks through her skirt and panties, pressing her lower belly against his hardening cock.
I understood how, despite knowing it was wrong, Izzy had felt completely unable or unwilling to move those hands away. The similarity to my own helplessness was almost frightening.
“I knew I should have stopped him Mum, but it was all happening so fast…”
She didn’t need to tell me how fast Tony could move. As Izzy’s story gradually and tearfully unfolded, every bit of my body remembered how it had felt to be seduced by that man’s extraordinarily effective technique, my memory easily filling the many gaps where she was too embarrassed to tell the details even to me.
“His hands were everywhere…”
Before she could even think of objecting, his hands would have slipped underneath her tiny skirt and be inside her knickers, his fingers exploring her skinny buttocks, cupping them, flesh on flesh, his fingers exploring her softest, most sensitive parts from the crease at the top of each thigh to the cleft between her cheeks.
“But I wanted them to be. I couldn’t resist him…”
From there, as I knew only too well, my daughter’s arousal would have given her no chance of escape, or even the desire to do so. If he had run to form, Tony would have pressed his knee forward. If Izzy had responded like her mother, she would have rubbed herself brazenly against it, encouraged by the pressure of his fingers in her cleft and, as her arousal rocketed, by the touch of his fingertips against the base of her slit.
“It felt so good even though I knew it was wrong…”
From there it would have been the unimpeded work of seconds to reverse his grip, flip his hand around to her mound and to begin fingering her properly.
And as I knew well, however bad Tony’s morals might be, his fingering technique was first class.
“It was as if I was out of control. Like my body had taken over…”
Given her youth and level of arousal, my daughter would probably have reached her first climax within seconds, leaning heavily against Tony’s strong, mature body, her knees wobbling, her weight steadied by his free arm and the hand between her thighs.
Once that had happened the rest was inevitable.
“After that, I just let him do whatever he wanted with me. No, it was worse than that; like I needed him to do whatever he wanted; like I was watching myself do it and couldn’t stop because it wasn’t really me.”
I knew exactly what she meant; the point of no return, the stage of arousal beyond which the conscious will shuts down and the body with its need to breed takes over. It had happened to me at Tony’s hands too and, though Izzy didn’t know it, at the hands of other lovers too.
“Before I knew it, I was on my back on the bed, my knickers were off and he… we…”
I waited for the inevitable outburst.
“Oh God, Mum, I wanted him so badly by then I just couldn’t help myself!”
From the dazed, aroused expression on her face as she recalled it, the moment Tony’s cock had entered my daughter’s vagina had been as big a shock for her as it had been for me when it had first been thrust roughly into mine. Its extraordinary girth had been a revelation to my infamously oversized vagina; how it must have felt entering the tight body of a young, skinny girl could only be imagined.
Her eyes opened wide as she looked deep into mine.
“And it was so, so good, Mum!”
With a terrible feeling of déjà vu, I knew what she was going to say next.
“The best I’d ever had,” she blushed. “To be honest, it still is. Better than I had dreamed it could be.”
The strange mix of pain, arousal, vivid memory and instinctive revulsion that these words induced in me was a shock.
Izzy’s first fuck with Tony must have been astonishingly good to make her say such an extraordinary thing to me, knowing that not only was I her mother, but that he had been my lover too. The expression of amazement mixed with shame that filled her troubled face spoke volumes.
She had clearly received the fucking of her short life, much as at the time, he had given me mine. From the look of desperation in her eyes, not even Jack came close.
As we sat at the table, both of us feeling the second large glass of wine taking effect, my own emotions were in as much turmoil as hers.
Maternal anger that Tony had taken advantage of my daughter was mixed with jealousy that she had so easily and so quickly taken my place in his bed
Resentment that she had enjoyed it so much; that she now also knew what it was like to feel that short, thick cock inside her body was mixed with envy. Her younger, tighter vagina would have made the amazing sensations even more intense than those that had brought me so close to leaving my husband.
Saying anything at all was too risky, so I remained silent.
“I’m not sorry it happened, Mum,” she told me half ashamed, half aggressively. “I know I should be but I’m not.”
I let her passion cool for a moment then asked:
“It wasn’t just that one time?”
She shook her head, her eyes lowered.
“We spent the whole night together. And Sunday morning. He took me to the station in the afternoon.”
If I knew anything about both their sexual appetites, they would have fucked many times in those hours. My chest tightened with emotion.
“He visited me at Uni two weeks later. I spend the night with him in his hotel.”
“Oh, Izzy…” I sighed.
“Then I came back here to see him. I hadn’t warned him I was coming but we spent the whole weekend together… Oh, Mum, I kept seeing him in secret after I came back from Uni for the summer.”
I could see she was on the verge of tears once again.
“But it’s all over now?” I asked.
There was a look of desperation on her face, but no answer.
“You’re not still seeing him,” I asked, aghast. “Not if you’re with Jack too? Tell me you haven’t been fucking them both all this time!”
“No!” she exclaimed, the horror of my question finally shaking her into speaking.
“So it is all over between you and Tony?” I asked, needing to be sure.
She sighed.
“Not officially,” Izzy eventually replied.
“What do you mean?” I demanded, even more horrified.
“I was upset. When I came home for the summer, he told me that however good we were together, we should stop. He said that I had been upset and not thinking clearly the first time; that he was much too old for me and that it had been wrong of him to take advantage of me when I was in such an emotional state.”
That would at least explain some of her bad behaviour before she went on holiday. If she was besotted with Tony but he wanted to end the relationship, her emotions would have been all over the place. It was little wonder she had been so foul-tempered with me.
“He was certainly right about that,” I said angrily, unable to keep quiet.
“It’s as much my fault as his, Mum. He didn’t take advantage of me. After the first time, I did keep coming back even though he said from the start he wasn’t really comfortable with it.”
I could barely contain the snort of derision that her words deserved. The idea that Tony was having doubts about fucking a very willing, sexually athletic twenty-year-old girl was simply absurd. The man must have thought he had won the lottery.
“We agreed not to see each other for a while to let things calm down a bit. I would go on holiday with my friends and we would both think it over as objectively as we could. When I got back, we would meet again and decide whether to keep seeing each other or to call it a day.”
“And on holiday you got together with Jack,” I said. “Wasn’t that a bit strange?”
“I was very mixed up, Mum. Jack’s fancied me for years, but I’d always seen him as a bit of a kid and not taken him seriously. When we met up on holiday, all the other girls thought he was really fit and tried to get off with him. I began to see him in a new light, so when he came on to me again, I went along with it and we ended up together.”
“Even though you were sleeping with his Dad?” I asked, amazed.
Izzy looked even more sheepish.
“I’m not sure it wasn’t because I was sleeping with his Dad,” she confessed. “At least, that was part of the attraction at first. But once we’d got together, I realised how different from Tony he was and how really lovely he is.”
As another of Tony’s cast-offs, I couldn’t help wondering how deep the similarities between father and son went. Did it include their attitudes to women? Not as far as I had seen. But what about their proficiency in bed or even, God help me, the shape of their erect cocks?
Those questions had better remain unanswered.
“And when you got back?” I prompted.
“I went to see him and told him what had happened. I could see he wasn’t happy; he thought I’d got with Jack on purpose to get back at him. But I hadn’t Mum. It was an accident; we just fell for each other.”
I was just as suspicious as Tony had been but bit my lip and said nothing.
“Tony and Julie still think Jack’s a child, but he isn’t. He’s quite capable of making his own decisions.”
“So you and Tony ended it there and then?” I asked, hoping against hope I was right.
Izzy’s lowered eyes and pink face told another story.
“We spent the night together again; a sort of last, break-up sex,” she confessed.
“Then did it finish?” I demanded.
“We haven’t slept together since,” she said. “And we don’t ever go to his flat.”
It was typical of the man to have one last night fucking my daughter before dumping her, but at least he had finally done the right thing.
“I cried all the way back home but deep down I knew it was the right choice. If Jack had ever found out it would have been the end for us and…”
She looked me in the eye. Tears were about to come again so I took my hands in hers.
“Mum, I love him so much! I couldn’t bear it if he ever found out about me and Tony. Promise you’ll never let anyone else know! Not even Dad! Please, Mum, you have to promise.”
“Of course I promise,” I said, holding my daughter close.
Izzy hugged me, her eyes red, her body still trembling.
“I guess it’s a day for secrets, isn’t it?” I smiled, pulling her even closer. “Thank God we can trust each other.”
***
When Pete entered the house a few hours later I could see he was unsure what he might find.
What he did find was a calm, if somewhat tense atmosphere in which all references to anyone’s sexual improprieties were, by unspoken mutual consent, completely avoided.
A few hours later when Izzy returned to Julie’s house to spend the night with Jack, Pete tried his hardest to find out what had transpired between us but, as promised, I kept my counsel.
He found it very frustrating but the reduction in tension in the house was undeniable, so he eventually gave up.
***
Despite the exhaustion of the day and an unexpected, late extra feed for Leanne, I lay awake in bed for a long time that night, listening to my husband’s breathing, my mind buzzing with the earth-shattering events of the last twenty-four hours.
One of my deepest, darkest secrets had been exposed, then had almost immediately been trumped by an even deeper, darker confession from my daughter.
Izzy’s affair with Tony had been a genuine and considerable shock for me.
Should I have seen it coming? Had I been so mixed up in my own murky sex life that I hadn’t noticed my naïve, promiscuous daughter falling for the most prolific, least ethical seducer I knew?
Izzy had had a crush on him for years, she had told me. Why hadn’t I known this?
My daughter’s story had rung so true and had been so believable that as the long night rolled on, it evoked deep and painful memories of my own past.
Like most teenage girls I had had my share of crushes on older men, in my case two, both of them fathers of my school friends. They can’t have been older than their early forties.
The biggest crush was on the father of a girl I only remained friends with because of her Dad. His name was Derek – no, David. To the teenage me he was gorgeous; tall, dark and athletic and I thought, so smooth, so suave and so sophisticated.
In my early teens, I used to write his name on the inside of my diary along with little pink hearts. At school I used to daydream about being romanced by him, having lunch in McDonald’s with him alone, walking through the streets and parks holding his hand.
As I grew older, the dreams became more sexually oriented. The lunches became romantic dinners, the coke became wine, holding hands became kissing, walking became touching and feeling in the darkness of the cinema or even the large, moodily lit lounge in their house.
I was too young and naïve to imagine what sex with him might actually be like, but I did know how it felt to have male fingers on and inside my vulva and indulged those imaginings to the full.
At night, the slightest rubbing of my nightdress or pyjamas against my vulva could evoke erotic thoughts or dreams involving him which at first, I struggled to understand.
Why, with so much history myself, had I not understood Isobel’s vulnerability?
The object of my teenage desires had been unknowing and had made no attempt to behave with me in any way other than as his daughter’s father. My virginity had remained unchallenged, at least by him.
Now, with the perspective of time and experience, I could not put my hand on my heart and say that if he had made even a half-determined move towards my knickers, I would have resisted firmly enough to prevent him succeeding. Had David been as forward and persistent as Tony, I might well have connived at my own defloration years before it had actually happened.
To my shame, the idea was far less disturbing than it should have been. Indeed I began to wonder how different my sex life might have been if my hymen had been broken lovingly by an experienced, caring, older man in his large, warm bed rather than the crude, brutal, painful and humiliating way in which it had actually been breached.
Isobel’s hymen could only be a distant memory. Older and considerably more sexually experienced than I had been, she was still in many ways naïve and would have been easy prey for an unscrupulous, determined, predatory seducer. It was not hard to see how his blitzkrieg approach could have led to Tony’s cock entering my daughter’s vagina long before she understood the danger that she was in.
That was, of course, assuming she had needed seducing. With Izzy, that could not be taken as read.
As I knew so very well, once she had been penetrated; once she had felt the amazing sensation of having that short, thick, almost deformed appendage within her body, her considerable lust would have taken over and her enthusiastic participation in whatever fucking followed would be guaranteed.
And I had seen with my own eyes how enthusiastic my daughter could be once a boy’s erect cock was inside her vagina. With Tony’s monstrous girth stretching her youthful entrance to its elastic limit, who knows how completely lust might have taken over and what it might have driven her to do or have done to her?
They had slept together many times, albeit over a short period. Their appetites and opportunities for sexual adventure would have been legion. In the darkness, many of the times Tony and I had fucked came vividly into my troubled mind.
I remembered how it had felt, lying on my back on the bed, my legs parted obscenely wide, looking up into his frowning face as he hammered himself into my vagina.
I remembered the times when on my knees, his cock had burst into my body from behind, the top of his thighs slapping against the base of mine, his hands gripping my hips so hard they left finger marks.
I remembered clinging on to him, my dress around my waist, his pants around his ankles, my back against the wall. I remember wrapping my legs around his waist, his hands under my bony buttocks, supporting my body as he fucked me hard and brutally against the wall of his apartment lounge.
I remembered how it had felt to take that monstrous appendage into my mouth; how sweet the precum on its tip had been before he had penetrated me; how bitter my own fluids had tasted after it had brought me to another, helpless, messy climax.
Slowly but surely, in my mind, my own face and body changed to my daughter’s.
The night grew darker. In an hour or so, Leanne would wake for her night feed. There was little time for me to sleep but it was impossible anyway with so many questions filling my head; questions to which I knew I could never know the answers.
Tony, Julie and their family had been so close to us for so long that Izzy and Jack could have been taken for brother and sister. They had behaved as such for many years.
At first, the two of them being sexually involved had felt almost like incest; it had taken me some time to come to terms with them being sexually involved as a couple.
To learn that she had also been fucked by Tony was far, far worse, but if I was honest, was that just because he had fucked and discarded me first? After all, they were not really related, she was well over the age of consent and, as I knew only too well, no sexual novice herself.
As I sat in the darkness of the nursery, Leanne’s tiny mouth latched onto my tiny breast, my vulva already damp, my mind was still spinning.
Deep down inside, did I still want Tony? Was it just jealousy that was making me feel so upset?
God alone knew how many times he had fucked and cum inside my daughter, but had he spanked her too, as I had seen with my own eyes she loved so well?
Had he fucked her roughly on all fours as I had also seen, her tiny boobs hanging down, her long dark hair over her face as she came? Or had he looked down caringly on Izzy’s pretty young features as he made love to her as a real lover would? Had he seen elements of my own face in hers and thought of me as he penetrated her?
Had he felt that by fucking my daughter he was fucking me once again? Had his cock stretched her youthful entrance wire tight as it had my own? Had she begged him to fuck her hard; to make her cum as I had so often begged? Had the feel of her tight vagina around his cock, brought Tony memories of my loose, overused passage?
Or, most likely, had I not featured in his thoughts at all? Had Tony heard Izzy-Oh-God screaming out the words that had given her that undesirable epithet? Had he done as she had pleaded, making her cum as hard as I had cum?
Had her fingernails raked his shoulders, arms and sides in ecstasy as mine had so many times? Had he climaxed himself soon after, cumming as deep inside her vagina as he had so often in my cunt? Had Izzy felt that thick phallus throbbing and pulsating inside her tight, young body? Had Tony’s cock pumped rope after rope of semen against her soft, pink cervix?
There was no way he would have used a condom; I knew that for certain. Had she been on the pill at that time? Had she known about his vasectomy? Or had she been so carried away by lust that the risk of pregnancy hadn’t even occurred to her?
After all, that was exactly how I had been impregnated by Darren. Like mother, like daughter?
Leanne’s feed ended. She went back to satiated sleep but for me, sleep was impossible. I tried to blame Tony for it all but knew my daughter’s sexual history too well. I tried to blame Izzy instead, but knew Tony’s nature too well.
I blamed myself for not noticing what was happening before it was too late.
But even the worst nightmare must come to an end and eventually, as the new day approached, sanity slowly began to return and, though no closer to sleep, I began to ask myself calmer, more sensible questions.
Why did I feel so strongly about their brief affair? Was it just jealousy?
If it was, then there was no justification for it. Tony and I had finished before their first fuck. Izzy knew nothing of his and my messy relationship at the time and could not be blamed for taking him from me.
And why should anyone be blamed at all? Neither of them had been in a relationship. Neither had cheated. No-one but me had been hurt, and that was by accident.
Apart from Tony’s blitzkrieg technique, there had been no real coercion. Izzy had been seduced, not forced and by her own admission, had enjoyed it so much she had come back time and again for more.
It took no imagination at all to know how Tony would have felt with a sexy young girl knocking on his bedroom door. What man would or could have resisted?
Perhaps, unlike my own affair, it had done neither of them; or indeed anyone else any harm. It might even have done my daughter some good.
So why did I feel so angry and betrayed? And so extraordinarily aroused?
There was no way I could let this pass without challenging Tony – but that meant talking to him again. That was a prospect that filled me with strong and completely contradictory emotions that in the darkness assumed almost monstrous proportions.
It was a relief when I heard Leanne waking for her early morning feed.
***
“Hi, Penny. What a surprise! Great to hear from you so soon. Does this call mean you’ve come to your senses and realised you and I were made for each other…”
“You have been fucking Isobel, you heartless bastard,” I said in as cold and hard a voice as I could manage.
It was the following morning and only Leanne and I were in the house. My heart was thumping; for the first time since our affair ended, I had called Tony on his mobile phone. It was the phone he used to communicate with all the poor women who, like me and now my daughter, had come under his spell and surrendered our bodies to the mercy of his short, ugly, monstrously thick but highly effective cock.
“What?” he replied, as if taken completely by surprise.
“You fucked my daughter, Tony. She’s less than half your age and she’s almost a member of your family as well as mine. How could you do it?”
There was a long pause.
“Did she tell you?” he asked, clearly unnerved.
“You’re not denying it?”
“Why would I? It happened. I’m not ashamed of it; I hope Izzy isn’t either.”
“You’re an amoral bastard!” I hissed angrily. “Is no-one safe from you?”
I paused to draw breath giving Tony a chance to speak.
“Did SHE tell you about it, Penny?” he asked again, slowly and precisely.
“How else would I know?” I snarled. “She knows about the two of us as well, by the way.”
“Well, I didn’t tell her anything,” he growled. “I might be an amoral bastard, but I never, ever kiss and tell, you should know that by now.”
“I do know you didn’t tell her. She found out by accident when… never mind that! You fucked my daughter Tony. You fucked her straight after you dumped me!”
“It wasn’t like that…”
“It was exactly like that! First, you dumped me, then you fucked her. Was that your wet dream? Both mother and daughter? Well, you succeeded. Well done! You men are pathetically predictable!”
“It wasn’t like that at all. You and I had something really special, Penny. Izzy was an accident. It sounds callous but it was. Neither of us expected anything like that to happen, and when it did happen, she wanted it every bit as much as I did. Ask her if you don’t believe me!”
I already knew he was telling the truth, but I wasn’t in any mood to admit it. Instead, I moved the goalposts to give my anger a sharper edge.
“I’m surprised you didn’t suggest fucking both of us together in the same bed!”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I never even thought about Izzy in that way until the night it happened. If anything, she’s the one who had a crush on me.”
“Huh!” I snorted derisorily, though I knew from Izzy that this was nothing but the truth too.
“And you say I’m predictable?” he continued. “You could just as easily accuse your daughter of wanting to fuck father and son! That knife cuts both ways, Penny. She wasn’t exactly difficult to get into bed you know, and she was pretty bloody enthusiastic when we got there too. Does that remind you of anyone?”
For a moment, that comment stunned me into silence. Hadn’t Izzy herself said something along those lines? And as for being an easy lay, well yes, we all knew where she might have acquired that characteristic.
There was a tense pause before Tony continued.
“Listen, if Bella told you all about it, then she will have told you how it happened, right?”
Bella? Was that the pet name he had for my daughter? God, they really had fallen for each other!
“Her name is Isobel and yes, it was a familiar story,” I said acidly, trying to ignore the implication. “Horrifyingly familiar and with a horrifyingly familiar ending too.”
Tony ignored this barb and carried on.
“If she told you that, then she should also have told you what happened next. How she enjoyed it so much, she came back for a second helping, then a third. Did she mention that? Does that have a familiar ring too?”
“Why are you telling me this? Do you just like rubbing my nose in it?” I demanded.
But Tony was not going to be diverted.
“Penny, your sweet, vulnerable daughter wanted it every bit as much as I did. More probably. She spent hours on the train just to come here and sleep with me again.”
I bit my lip to avoid confirming what he was saying. Tony took this as permission to carry on.
“She’s not the poor victim you think she is. There was very little your sweet, innocent daughter didn’t want to try once her knickers were off. Even I was surprised. Does that sound like a poor, naïve girl who was fucked against her will and hated every moment of it?”
I knew this was true too but was not prepared to give him the satisfaction of hearing me say it. Sensing my temper moderating, Tony continued calmly.
“I might not be every woman’s ideal husband, but in all my life, I’ve never forced anyone to have sex. I didn’t force you and I didn’t force Bella. Neither of us planned it; neither of us knew it was going to happen, but it did happen and I’m not sorry about it, just like I’m not sorry about you and me.”
“Her name is Isobel…” I protested weakly, but Tony’s words had an unmistakable ring of truth.
My anger now seemed both misplaced and hypocritical.
“Afterwards, she wanted more just like you wanted more,” He continued. “But unlike you, I knew that with Bella, it was never going to be anything but a few fantastic hours of purely physical sex.”
I couldn’t think what else to say.
“And just like you, she was bloody good at it!” he added emphatically. “Really fucking good if you want to know!”
It was meant as a compliment to us both, if a twisted one. There was a long silence during which my mind span, my body tingled with anger and, I reluctantly had to accept, with significant arousal.
“I’m not the bad guy this time, Penny. And if Bella… Isobel has told you the truth, you already know this. For what it’s worth, it was me who wanted to bring it to an end before she got badly hurt. I know she was upset at the time, but it couldn’t have gone on much longer before she realised there was no future in it.”
“But she’s with Jack now,” I replied.
“Yes. She’s with Jack. It’s over between us.”
“She’s not sure it’s over,” I told him.
“It’s over Penny, whatever she told you. It was good while it lasted – very good to be honest – but I’m not going to risk hurting my son, however uncomfortable the two of them being together might make me.”
My former anger was rapidly being replaced by embarrassment driven by increasing self-knowledge. I realised I had called Tony simply to yell at him rather than with any real injustice in mind. And if I was really honest, after a night full of dreams and memories, perhaps subconsciously I had needed to hear his seductive voice again.
“That took a bit of getting used to for me too,” I confessed.
“I’m still not sure I how I feel even now,” Tony added. “You know they’ve never visited me here?”
“Now we both know why.”
There was a long pause.
“It would be very strange to see them both together,” Tony eventually said.
“And hear them,” I added without thinking.
There was another pause.
“She is rather noisy in bed, isn’t she?” he mused quietly, inadvertently answering one of my many questions.
“That’s definitely too much information,” I told him firmly, finally coming more to my senses. “I’m sorry I called. It was a mistake.”
“No, Penny; your calling me wasn’t a mistake. Bella and me getting together wasn’t a mistake either. What would be a mistake is if you and I didn’t talk anymore. And not ever seeing each other again would be a much bigger mistake.”
“Tony…”
“I do still want you, Penny,” he said softly in that voice of his that despite all that had happened, could still turn my knees to jelly. “We were so good together, in bed and out. Really good. You know I’m right.”
“Tony please…”
“It would be our secret again, no strings this time, no baggage. Both of us going in with our eyes wide open. You calling all the shots if you wanted…”
It wouldn’t be just my eyes that he wanted wide open. To my shame and in the face of all that I now knew, the idea was alarmingly exciting; I could feel myself lubricating at the mere sound of his voice saying those so seductive words.
But if I let him get too close to me again, with my infamous lack of willpower, who knew what might happen?
It was definitely time to go and go quickly before it was too late.
“I’m going to hang up now…” I began but he cut me off.
“I know you want it, Penny. And you know you want it,” he carried on, ignoring my attempt to end the conversation. “We’re both good in bed and we’re both good at keeping secrets. No-one else need ever know…”
“I mean it, Tony. I’m going now…”
“Given a straight choice between you and your amazing daughter, I would choose you every time. No contest.”
This was the most obvious piece of unconvincing flattery I had heard in a long time, so why were my nipples erect and my panties soaking?
“Goodbye Tony,” I whispered, pressing the red ‘end’ button.
I pressed it a good deal more reluctantly than I would have wished.
