"No, I fucked lots of them, all night! I don't even remember how many. I couldn't help myself, Stacey! Oh God, I'm such a slut!" I wailed."What?" she ...xclaimed. "What did you do wrong?" Nothing," I insisted, sniffing back tears. I just hated upsetting or disappointing her. "I did everything just like you told me. I know it worked..." I hesitated, unable to mention Jenny when Stacey already was so upset.Luckily, Stacey was already talking again. "It's okay, Linnea; don't cry. Just tell me what. You didn't force anything. I probably should have moved away from you as soon as we touched." Yeah, well, thanks hon."After a few moments, her conversation returned to her night with Billy. She asked, "How come you didn't act like ... you know ... an aggrieved parent. I mean, any other Dad would have gone ballistic. And you didn't even tell ma, which was really rad." Baby, er, can I say something?" I asked.She nodded."Look you, er, I don't know how but you, er, seem awful mature ... awfully. I was supposed to take care of you… that’s what we promised… I should have died then… in your place, not this slow lingering death, a year while the Devil’s bony fingers play with my lungs, gripping them, squeezing them dry of air… a relentless grip… until I draw my last breath. I don’t understand how this is fair, I was dying even then, the illness had begun its final relentless surge, why were you taken in my place? Where is the fairness? Why were you not spared? I don’t understand it. I’ve. Cara shuddered, no smile, just intensity, desire, heat. “In my fantasy, you hesitated. I said, “Please, Daddy. Don’t stop now,” and you smiled at me.“Then, I guided you down into my slit like this. I led you, positioned you, and said, “Please?” again.”Cara positioned me. Her soft, slippery labia hugged my tip. My body trembled, arms shaking from holding myself up off her body.“Then what?” I asked.“I moved you from side to side and deeper. I could feel myself stretching. I could feel you when.