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If you expect people to behave consistently, you simply have not had enough experience with people. That is one of the things I have learned as I have gotten older and I learned it, of course, through experience.

My name is Theodore but everyone calls me Ted. I am an attorney in a large city in Florida and my life is comfortable. Most people think all attorneys are fabulously rich, but that is not true. Some attorneys are millionaires but many of us live a middle class lifestyle. I have a 4 bedroom, 2½ bath house with approximately 2,400 square feet. I have a swimming pool and a hot tub surrounded by a privacy fence and my home is well landscaped, but it is not a mansion. It is a nice house in a nice subdivision.

I’m 40 years old and divorced. My wife — Pat — and I met when I was 24 years old and finishing law school. She had a 2 year old daughter named Lisa. Pat had lived a wild life a few years earlier and she simply had no idea about who was the father of her daughter. After giving birth, Pat had settled down and stopped acting like a slut. She got a job as a secretary at a law firm and I met her when I worked as a clerk for the same firm.

All it took was one or two mixed drinks and Pat was the wildest woman I had ever dated. She was no longer living like a slut but she had not forgotten how to have wild sex. We started “doin’ it” on our third date and we quickly got very active. I had been with several women in the past but I was certainly not tremendously experienced in all the variations of how two people can have orgasms together.

In retrospect, I think Past had grown up being self-conscious of her small boobs. Most women think that every guy on the planet wants to see a girl with humongous tits and that simply is not true. In her mind, her 34A titties made her less of a woman and I think she tried to compensate by acting so uninhibited. She also kept her pubic hair completely shaved. The effect was not to make her look like a “little” girl, but she did look like an innocent nymph. Personally, I thought her titties looked sexy and I couldn’t see them naked without wanting to grab them and suck and lick on her nipples.

Pat taught me many things. We had sex in almost every position I have ever heard of. We did it missionary style, of course, and we did it doggy style. We did it with her on top and we did it in the reverse cowgirl. I had never done the reverse cowgirl because I had never before had a girlfriend who was so uninhibited about me seeing her anus but nothing stopped Pat from having sex in every imaginable position.

We did it with her standing and bent over the back of a sofa and we did it standing up in the shower. She gave me hand jobs and I made her cum with my fingers. I fucked her little titties and came on her nipples. We had oral sex and frequently did it in the 69 position. She loved to swallow cum and I loved it when I came in her mouth.

A few months after we had started dating, Pat asked me to fuck her in the ass. I had never had anal sex before and I thought that most women would not do it because of the pain. Pat told me that it was just a matter of the girl relaxing. Once she had my dick covered in K-Y and I was sliding into her ass, I don’t think I could have stopped if she had begged me. I had never before felt anything so arousing, so absolutely nasty and taboo and fun. The first time we had anal sex, I thought the tip of my dick was going to explode I came so hard.

I had never used a vibrator on a woman and I guess it was obvious the first time she pulled a vibrator from her bedside table. She took the vibrator from my hand and showed me how she used it on herself. “Wow!” I said. “”I’ve never seen a girl do herself.”

“Well, I can fix that,” she replied. She turned off the vibrator and put her right hand between her legs. She started playing with her pussy and my dick got as hard as steel. As soon as she came, she picked up the vibrator and showed me how she came using her toy. When I finally stuffed my dick in her, it didn’t take long for her to have another orgasm. Feeling the spasms running through the walls of her cunt was all it took for me to unload and fill her hole with my sperm.

The next time we did it doggy style, she asked me to stick the vibrator in her ass while I fucked her pussy. I began to wonder if there was anything she wouldn’t do to have an orgasm.

Aside from a few days every month, we did it almost constantly, and during those few days every month, I got hand jobs, blow jobs, and anal sex. I was certain that I had died and gone to heaven. Being so young and inexperienced, I wanted this to last for the rest of my life, so I asked Pat to marry me, and she accepted my proposal.

Fortunately, one of my co-worker attorneys strongly suggested that I get a pre-nuptial agreement and Pat readily consented. We were married about 6 months after I graduated from law school, passed the bar exam, and began practicing.

* * *

Nine or ten years passed bakırköy escort and all was well. I was successful in my career and Pat continued to work as a legal secretary. She never got pregnant and we never went through the medical routine to determine what the problem was. I did get very attached to Lisa. I was the only father she had ever known and she grew up calling me “Daddy.” That word was music to my ears and I simply adored her. Even though I am an attorney, I never adopted Lisa. Pat and I discussed it and it would have been embarrassing for both of us to go to court, appear before a judge who I saw on a regular basis, and tell him that Pat had been such a slut that she didn’t know the identity of Lisa’s father. So, I did not adopt Lisa . . . but I was her father and everyone knew it.

Don’t get the wrong idea. I was not one of those fathers who thought his daughter could do no wrong. I was definitely her father and not her best friend. There were times that she needed discipline and I provided it. Usually that was making her go to bed after dinner or taking away a privilege but there were a few occasions when Lisa got a spanking. I never, ever hit her hard enough to cause any harm whatsoever but it was a traumatic experience for her and it didn’t happen very often.

As you might guess, Pat was rather uninhibited about being dressed, or undressed, at home, and she frequently walked around the house either nude or in just her panties. Lisa was clearly her mother’s daughter and, when she was a little girl, she loved to run around the house naked after her bath. By the age of 7 or 8, she slept in just her panties but, a few years later, when she began to develop boobs, she started sleeping in a tee-shirt and panties.

* * *

The problems started about ten years into the marriage, when Lisa was twelve years old. Pat became interested in attending church and she started taking Lisa with her. I attended on occasions but not on a very regular basis. I have religious beliefs and I do not frown upon people who attend church and are open about their beliefs. However, I do have a problem with religious zealots and I feared that Pat was heading in that direction.

About six months into the church attendance, Pat announced that she was going to stop drinking alcohol. Her attitudes started to become more “prim and proper.” She no longer left our bedroom unless she was fully dressed or at last covered with a long robe. She insisted that Lisa start wearing pajamas; Lisa complained but her mother insisted.

Our sex life started changing. We had sex less often and it was almost always missionary style. I never complained about doing it in a very traditional position but, after years of having such a wild sex life, this seemed like a peculiar state of affairs. There was no more oral sex, anal sex, or sex toys. There was no sex in the pool and there were certainly no screaming orgasms. Then, Pat started working only 20 hours per week so that she would have time to volunteer for church activities.

We didn’t need the money from her full-time job but I was concerned that Pat was getting deeper and deeper into religious fanaticism. I took my vows seriously and I assumed this was the “worse” part of the “for better and for worse” promise. I had no intentions of leaving Pat — or Lisa — and I hoped that this was just a passing phase.

For three years, I waited for the phase to pass and it finally did. Pat stopped attending church, and she stopped rather abruptly. She started drinking alcohol again and we started doing something a little different between the sheets, but not like the “old” days. Things weren’t quite right. It seemed that Pat was just going through the motions rather than truly enjoying our sexual activities. I rarely heard her say “I love you” and she looked depressed.

After a year of waiting for things to improve, I finally had “the talk” with Pat. I explained my concerns and related my observations or her. I asked her what was wrong and she started crying.

“I’m not in love with you anymore,” she sobbed. “I’m sorry, you deserve much better, but I can’t lie about this. I just don’t love you anymore.”

“What happened? How long? What . . . is there someone else?” I had a million questions and they all wanted to come out at once.

She stopped crying and became a little calmer. “I think it started when I was goin’ to church,” she said, her voice sounding weak. “And, I’m sorry, but, yes . . . there is someone else.”

“Who?” I blurted out my question before she had even finished her last sentence.

“The preacher . . . the preacher’s wife,” she said.

* * *

Pat apologized a million times. She explained that she had been in a few brief relationships with girls when she was younger and she had assumed that it was just normal curiosity. When she started volunteering at church, she had worked very closely with the preacher’s wife — Zelda (I absolutely hate başakşehir escort that name) — and they had become very close friends. They had confessed to each other all of their past sins and, coincidentally, Zelda also had a lesbian relationship in her past.

It doesn’t take any imagination to understand how this relationship escalated. Pat and Zelda had a sexual affair for about three months and then Zelda wanted to end it; she told Pat that her duty was to support her husband and this relationship was just wrong as well as sinful. That was when Pat had stopped attending church.

I could have forgiven Pat; it would have been difficult but I could have done that . . . but she didn’t love me. I did not want a marriage without love and that is what I told Pat. Her response was to simply say, ‘then I guess we’ll have to get a divorce.’

So we got a divorce. It took about five months for the divorce to become final and, during that time, Pat and I continued to live in the same house, though we didn’t share a bedroom. There was no open hostility but it was obvious to Lisa — who was now 16 years old — that this was not the way things were meant to be.

Because of the prenuptial agreement, I was not required to pay Pat any alimony. I agreed to give her a lump sum of $50,000 and she agreed to sign everything else over to me. I had never adopted Lisa so I could make no claim to custody and I wouldn’t even have any legally enforceable visitation rights, but we both knew that Lisa would want to spend time with me.

While our divorce was pending, I heard that Zelda and her husband were getting a divorce. The church was rocked with the scandal and the preacher barely held on to his job. As part of their divorce, Zelda agreed to move at least 100 miles away; I assume the preacher, or the church, paid her for that concession. They didn’t have any kids to complicate matters and the preacher’s life would obviously be much easier if Zelda was not around to remind the congregation of the past. (Years later, the preacher confessed that he had used drugs when he was a teenager. How people feel about the past depends on whether it’s your past or their past that’s being discussed.)

Knowing this, I wasn’t surprised when Pat came to me and said that she had decided to move away from town when the divorce became final. I asked her if she was leaving to be with Zelda and she candidly conceded that, indeed, that was her plan. I am grateful that she didn’t lie about it.

“What about Lisa?” I asked. “Do you want her around when you’re havin’ your lesbian relationship, so all the kids in school can tease her about her mother bein’ a carpet muncher? Do you think she wants to leave ‘er school and all ‘er friends here?” Now I was getting angry.

“I don’t want to leave ‘er. It would kill me, but . . . you might be right. Maybe we should ask her. If she says that she doesn’t want to leave, are you okay with her stayin’ here with you?”

“Of course she can stay here if that’s what she wants. But we need to ask her. At her age, it wouldn’t be very smart to try to force her to do somethin’ she doesn’t wanna do.”

Pat and I sat and talked with Lisa. Pat didn’t want Lisa to know about her lesbian relationship but I thought it was unfair to not tell her. How could she possibly decide on whether to move with her mom when she didn’t know that another woman would be sharing a bedroom with her mother? So I told her. And I told her that she could stay with me or go with her mother and, if she went with her mother, I would make arrangements for us to visit as often as possible.

Lisa was stunned. She looked at her mother with absolute contempt and loathing. I had never seen Lisa get that angry about anything.

She didn’t respond to the questions that day but, if you know teenagers at all, especially teenage girls, then you know what Lisa decided. Of course she didn’t want to leave her school and friends. It was decided that Lisa would stay with me and she would go to visit her mom on a regular basis.

* * *

At last, the divorce was final and Pat packed up her belongings. She and Lisa had a tearful goodbye and then Pat came to bid me farewell. She started to apologize once again and I stopped her.

“I know you feel some remorse about this situation but it’s too late to say you’re sorry. You made this happen and a million ‘I’m sorry’s’ won’t change a damn thin’. I don’t hate you but I’m ready for you to get our ass out of here. So . . . just take your sorry ass away from here and don’t come back!”

“Take good care of my daughter,” she said as she turned to leave.

“I’ll take extremely good care of our daughter,” I retorted.

* * *

Lisa stayed in her bedroom for a few hours. I left her alone for awhile but then I went to her. I knocked on her door but there was no answer. I opened the door and saw her laying on her bed, crying. I got on the bed beside her, put my arms around bebek escort her, and then I started crying.

“Daddy, I’m so sorry for you. You don’t deserve this,” she said.

“You don’t deserve this either, sweetie.” I responded. “Sometimes, life sucks . . . but at least we’ve got each other.” I kissed her on her forehead and we lay there silently until we fell asleep.

* * *

A few days later, Lisa announced that she wanted to have a talk about house rules.

“Daddy, before Mom started goin’ to church, everything around here was so relaxed and comfortable and then, it got kinda weird.”

“Yeah, I know, sweetie. I know.” I wasn’t sure that I knew exactly what she was referring to but I knew the feeling that she was talkin’ about.

“When Mom started goin’ to church, all of a sudden it was . . . you can’t do this and you can’t do this, and things weren’t so comfortable anymore. I couldn’t be myself. I’m glad she’s gone!”

“Sweetie, before you get into anything more specific, let me explain a few things to you. First, since your Mom is gone, she doesn’t make our rules anymore; we make the rules. Second, I’m your father — maybe not legally — but it’s my job to be your father and to make sure that you are safe and you finish growin’ up with a good set of morals and values for yourself. Third, I sure want you to be comfortable ’round here.”

“Daddy, I hate pajamas and this stuff about ‘don’t leave your bedroom without a bathrobe on’ is just bullshit. We’re family and we’ve seen each other in our underwear plenty of times before so . . . what’s the big deal? I mean, I don’t want to run around naked and I’m not plannin’ on runnin’ around in my underwear in front of strangers but . . . when it’s just you and me, why can’t it be more relaxed?”

“Honey, you got to understand the situation. I’m a man and you are a drop-dead beautiful 16 year old girl. If somebody hears that I’m prancin’ around in just my underwear in front of you, or you’re prancing around in your underwear in front of me, they’ll get the wrong idea and report us to the Department of Children and Families. We don’t need that to happen. They’ll take you away from me and send you to live with your mother. You don’t want that, do you?”

“You know I don’t, Daddy. I wanna stay here with you.”

“Honey, if I knew for a fact that nobody would ever find out and it would never cause a problem . . . I’d tell you to wear as little as you want. Personally, I don’t care if you run around the house naked all the time, but we can’t take a chance on that. But, you don’t have to wear pajamas, and you can run around the house as undressed as you want when I’m not here. You can go skinny dippin’ in the pool or sunbathe naked as a newborn baby, I don’t care, as long as I’m not here and nobody else is here. You understand, don’tcha?”

“I do understand, Daddy. But . . . does it have to last forever?” she asked.

“It has to last ’til you’re 18 and then you can do whatever you want,” I replied. “‘Til then, I’ll be goin’ with you to buy clothes and to make sure that what you wear is okay. You don’t have to dress like a nerd but I don’t want you lookin’ like a slut, either. Got it?” I asked.

“I’ve got it. When do we go shopping?”

Women never miss an opportunity, do they?

* * *

The next year and a half were very happy times for Lisa and me. She did all the things that normal teenage girls do. She did fairly well in school and she seemed to be popular among her friends. She had some dates and I showed each and every one of those boys my shotgun collection. It wasn’t very subtle but I didn’t care. I bought her a car and she appeared to be as happy as a teenage girl can be, but I suspected that her mother’s abandonment of the family had left an indelible scar on her psyche.

I had a few dates, mostly with female lawyers I met in litigation but occasionally I dated a secretary from another law firm or a court reporter. Every time I had a date, Lisa seemed to get in a bad mood and I suspected that she was jealous of another woman getting any of my attention. I never had more than two or three dates with any of the women. I never sensed any feelings developing for any of them and I wanted love just as much as I needed sex. However, none of the dates ever ended with a romp in the hay. The only relief I ever had was jerking off to internet porn. It would be different when Lisa graduated and went off to college.

* * *

Lisa’s 18th birthday was in October of her senior year in high school. We planned a big pool party with a DJ and catered food. I warned her that no alcohol would be allowed and she understood; I really wasn’t worried about her but I did have questions about some of her friends. she wasn’t dating anyone at that time so she planned to have a few of her girl friends spend the night.

Lisa wanted a new bikini for the party (remember, we live in Florida and it’s hot here in October.) We went shopping and she wanted to get a thong bikini. She tried it on and we were in a small boutique with no other customers in the store, so she called me into the fitting room to see it on her. I told her that she could wear that at home when no one else was present but I didn’t think she should wear that to her birthday party.

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