“But if you shoot, I’ll put a bullet between your eyes. At this range, I’ll blow your head off.”“You don’t scare me, bitch!” he shouted,...but I could see that he was rattled.I wanted to calm him down, not scare him into shooting. I took the tone Dad used all those years ago in the bar in Billings. My accent unconsciously slipped back to the Western drawl of my youth.“Let’s talk this over,” I said. “Lower your weapon, and I’ll lower mine.”“I ain’t goin’ to talk to no honky bitch!” he shouted.. Again she stirred but continued sleeping. My fingers traced about her labia, I could feel her wetness, her musk drifting up to fill my nostrils and inflame my lust. I grabbed my now painfully hard cock and gently pushed my way inside my sister. She stirred again, this time to accommodate me. I rested a moment thinking how wonderful her wet, silky softness felt around my shaft. With hands on her hips, I began a slow, rhythmic thrusting, inching ever deeper into her until she began to respond.. We'd never been able to have k**s of our own. Later that day, Julie told me that Brenda would like to start calling me "Dad," and I was honored. Julie sent me to sort of tuck Brenda in that night, even though she was way too old for that sort of thing, and as I drew the covers up over her she looked me right in the eye and said, "I love you, Daddy." I felt two things in that instant. One was intense affection for this young girl. The other was sexual arousal. It wasn't until that moment. "Harold, please, PLEASE. I'm sorry. I didn't know you would react this way." It couldn't end like this, she thought, it couldn't. He had to let her in. She was the one in control, she always had been.The porch lights went out, followed by the remaining lights in the house, except for the ones in their bedroom. She rushed around to the windows, careless of the fact she was still nude. Standing on her tiptoes she could barely see in the room through the chink in the curtains. Harold passed.