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Hannah seemed to walk naked along a path though swirling mist. There were trees and bushes on either side of the path like unmoving grey ghosts. There was no noise of birds or animals; there was not even the sound of her footfall. All was silent. She could not feel her feet touching the ground. She walked yet did not move.
A spectral form took shape among the trees, emerging from the mist to take on vague, faceless human outlines as it drew near to her. She felt herself born to the ground by hands she could neither see nor feel.
She had no will to resist and she could feel no force being exerted on her. Even if she wanted to, she knew she could not move as the figure loomed over her. It had no distinct shape except that she knew the figure was human, and the one thing that stood out clearly with firm, definite outline, was a large penis.
The figure lowered itself to come between her legs and as it did so she felt her legs drawn apart, again, neither by external force or her own volition. She felt the head of the penis press against the opening to her vagina. She cried out, “Come into me, come into me.”
The mist swirled and started to clear, and the spectral figure seemed to dissolve into the vanishing haze and was gone. Strangely, she could still feel the pressure of the penis head against her sexual organ.
There was a moment of confusion as the world seemed to blur, and she jerked awake to find herself in her own bed.
She lay quivering, and found that what in the dream had been penis pressure, was her own hand pressing against her vagina. She was wet with arousal, and as her confusion dissipated, she emitted a low cry as she became aware that this was once again the dream that constantly repeated itself, tormenting her.
She dispersed her sexual tension by masturbating, yet even as she did this she knew that the dream would return to haunt her in the future. “If only I could see the face of the shape that is about to take me. If only it would enter me!” she thought, “perhaps I would be rid of the dream for ever.”
Dreams seemed to play an important part in Hannah’s life. When she was four she dreamed that there was a fire on top of her wardrobe. She awoke, frightened by the dream, and still saw the flames flickering on the wardrobe. She ran in terror to her parent’s bedroom and pushed open the door. What she saw frightened her as much as the fire.
The bedside light was on, and she saw her father on top of her mother, Jemma, moving his buttocks up and down. Her mother was weeping and calling out, “Oh Paul, Paul darling.” Her father was groaning and Hannah believed that he was hurting her mother. She screamed out, “Mummy, mummy,” and raced to the bed to try to stop her father.
She had, of course, caught her parents at the point of sexual orgasm, and as they heard her screams, Paul pulled away from his wife. Hannah for a few seconds saw the huge, erect shaft of her father’s penis as he rapidly withdrew. He was still pumping out sperm that Hannah thought was a sort of white cream coming out of him.
Paul rolled away from Jemma pulling the sheet over his erection, while Jemma, trying to fight down her interrupted orgasm, sought to cope with Hannah.
“Daddy was hurting you. Daddy was hurting you,” Hannah wept. Jemma tried to console her saying, “Daddy wasn’t hurting me, darling, we were just playing a game. It was a nice game and no one was being hurt.”
With these and further reassurances Hannah quieted and Jemma tried to find out why she had come into the bedroom. Hannah, who had been momentarily distracted from her original reason for coming to her mother, now recalled her panic and said there was a fire in her room. Jemma carried her back to her own room and Hannah pointed to the flickering light on top of the wardrobe.
Jemma was now faced with the complex task of explaining to a small child that the moon was shining through a gap in the curtains, and its light fell at the top of the wardrobe. The branch of a tree that was just outside the window interrupted the moonlight, and the branch, moving in a slight breeze made it look as if the wardrobe light was flickering.
The problem was finally solved, not by explanation, but by a complete closing of the curtains. The light, and therefore the “fire,” having been disposed of, Hannah was put to bed, and soon slept.
Hannah did not dream of fire again, but one distinct mental image had burned into her mind from that night. It was the vision of her father as he pulled away from Jemma and the great shaft of his penis spurting “white cream.” For a long time she thought about this when awake, and dreamed of it when asleep.
She was puzzled as to what sort of “game” her parents had been playing. She questioned Jemma about this, but somehow the question was never answered. It was always, “Just a nice game, darling. Mummy and daddy were just having fun,” and when Hannah asked if she could play the illegal bahis game, she was told it was for “grown up people.”
In time, the image faded a little, but it was only waiting for the right stimulus to bring it to consciousness again. This happened when she began to hear what mothers and fathers did in order to make babies. Later she learned that people did this when they did not make babies as well. She now began to understand a little of what she had witnessed on the night of the fire.
Curious about her parent’s sex life, Hannah tried to find out what they did. When she knew they had gone to bed she would creep up to their bedroom door and listen. Her curiosity was frequently rewarded.
Jemma and Paul Observed
As Hannah listened at their bedroom door, she heard the joy of two people still physically and emotionally involved with each other. She could hear the cries and moans of sexual ecstasy as her parents gave physical expression to their love.
Once the door had been left partly open, and through the narrow opening, she could see some of the details of parental lovemaking. Her mother near the edge of the bed while her father knelt on the floor before her, his head between her legs. Then her father laying on his back, and Hannah saw once again his huge shaft, now being stroked by her mother, then, taking the head into her mouth, seeming to suck and lick it.
Hannah saw her mother move over her father to sit astride him, then as she lowered herself down onto Paul, Hannah could see the long, thick organ, slide into her. As she moved up and down with increasing speed, there were cries, groans and words similar to those she had heard years before: “Jemma, oh Jemma, my love.” “Paul, my love, my dearest love. Deeper, deeper.”
Finally, after even louder cries, there came a sort of peace. Jemma, still impaled on Paul’s now fading erection seemed to relax and droop. She was still muttering, “My darling, oh my darling,” over and over again, then withdrew herself to be taken into Paul’s arms and covered by a sheet as Paul reached out to switch off the bedside light.
Still not able to fully understand what she had witnessed, Hannah at least knew it was something very powerful and wonderful. Into her mind came the memory of the first time she had seen her father’s penis, and she was puzzled and amazed at her mother being able to take it into her – all of it.
Hannah slipped away from her parent’s door and returned to her bed. Here she did some exploring of her own vagina.
It was after witnessing her parents making love that Hannah began to have her dream of the spectre in the mist. In the following years she struggled to see the face of the figure that every time was about to penetrate her, but never did.
Hannah Grows Up
During her childhood Hannah had, like most children, been closer to her mother than to her father. Jemma had set aside her career as a speech therapist in order to be with Hannah, whereas her father, who was a forensic scientist, saw far less of her.
As she entered puberty Hannah began to focus her allegiance more on her father. She sought to bond more closely with him, and as often happens with young girls, she began to test out her femininity on him. She behaved coquettishly with him, letting him see her in panties and bra, wanting him to tell her how good her figure was and how attractive she looked.
She came to see her mother as a rival for her father’s affections, and began to behave in a snappy and deprecating manner towards Jemma. Hannah wanted to have her father to herself, and the love between Jemma and Paul, and Hannah’s knowledge of what they did in bed, became a source of frustration and anger. At night she lay in bed knowing and agonising about what was happening just a wall’s thickness away from her. Even as she masturbated she felt a sense of defeat. She could not have what she coveted because it belonged to someone else.
Jemma and Paul were intelligent parents, and understood what was happening to Hannah. Having that understanding Jemma was able to accept Hannah’s rude behaviour towards her and Paul coped with the hardly concealed sexual advances. What neither of them knew was that Hannah had observed them making love, so they could not realise the impact it had made on her.
Hannah, of course, had seen no other male sex organ at this point in her life, so she could make no comparison as to size. What she did not know was that her father’s penis was long and thick and a source of great joy and satisfaction to Jemma. Hannah simply accepted that her father’s penis was what all males had.
Hannah was at this stage not so much impressed by her father’s size as she was that her mother was able to “get all of that in her.” Seeing herself as her mother’s rival in her father’s affections, Hannah wanted to have his sex organ in her, even if only to prove that she could do as well as her mother in that respect.
Jemma and Paul followed Hannah’s sexual development illegal bahis siteleri carefully. They could see that she was growing into a very attractive, and they suspected, passionate young woman. As she came to the age of sexual consent they knew that Hannah was not likely to remain a virgin for very long.
Added to this was the fact that Hannah, in keeping with a lot of girl’s from financially well heeled families, was about to take her twelve months trip abroad prior to attending university. They wanted Hannah to have a good and comfortable first sexual experience. For this they laid some prudent plans.
Jemma suggested to Hannah that she might like to go on the pill, “just in case.” Hannah was surprised at the suggestion, thinking that her mother was playing a dangerous game in giving her the freedom of sex. “Who knows?” she thought deep inside herself, “If daddy knows he can’t get me pregnant, he might want to fuck me.”
Paul, however, had other plans for Hannah, and once she was safely on the pill, he began to invite some of his young male research assistants to spend the weekend with his family. Jemma and Paul watched to see if Hannah was particularly attracted to one of these young men, and finally decided that a rather quietly spoken boy called Dermot was the one they needed. Hannah seemed to be attracted by Dermot, and he was certainly hot for her.
Dermot was invited to arrive for a weekend stay beginning on Friday night. On Saturday morning Paul announced that he and Jemma had to go to see Jemma’s mother, as some sort of emergency had arisen. Sadly they would not be able to get back until Sunday afternoon. They were terribly sorry, but these things happen. They hoped that Dermot and Hannah would be able to manage. There was plenty of food, and they were to help themselves.
Jemma and Paul departed to spend the night in a motel, leaving nature to take its course in the comfort of their home. “At least she won’t lose her virginity in the back of a car, or some other uncomfortable place, ” said Jemma. Paul agreed, having made some careful enquiries concerning Dermot, and ascertaining that he was well qualified to take Hannah’s virginity with the minimum of fumbling and pain.
They never did find out precisely what happened during that thirty hours of their absence, but on their return they noticed that Dermot looked a little pale but happy, and Hannah also looked pale and rather depressed. They decided that Hannah’s less than cheerful appearance was probably due to a tough hymen and a painful splitting. The truth was, Hannah was disappointed. She had discovered that all men were not made the same.
The Tragic Time
Hannah took off for her time abroad. There were tears at the airport and much clinging to her father, telling him how much she loved him and would miss him. Poor Jemma did not receive the same impassioned farewell.
In the following months Hannah engaged in a number of sexual liaisons, none of which seemed to meet her needs. She was initiated into many aspects of sexual activity, graduating from straight vaginal sex to oral sex, then on to anal sex. She had sperm splattered over various parts of her body and into most available orifices. She even got caught up in a gang bang of proportions she had not anticipated.
Two young men had suggested to her that a troika would be fun. She decided that she could successfully handle the desires of two men, and accepted their invitation. What she had not expected was that these two young gentlemen would spread the word. On arrival at the appointed place, and having given satisfaction to her two hosts, she was then confronted by eight other eager youths who, despite her protests, enjoyed her body for a couple of hours.
Finally, sore and bruised, she was released from the clutches of what can only be called “her rapists,” feeling disgusted and ashamed. She thought of reporting the assault to the police. She decided not to, firstly, because she had agreed to the initial invitation, secondly because it took place in a country where women were not treated with much sympathy in relation to sexual assaults (“she asked for it”), and thirdly, her parents might somehow get to hear about it. She was especially concerned that her father should not know.
As Hannah continued her tour, now refusing all sexual offers, tragedy had struck at home.
For some time Jemma had been experiencing abdominal pains. These grew steadily worse and were diagnosed as cancer. An operation, followed by chemotherapy, seemed at first to produce a positive result, then after a couple of months pain and discomfort returned. Many tests and interviews followed, but the result was, “Nothing further can be done.” How long Jemma had to live was vague but, “Somewhere between six months and two years.”
Paul was devastated, but he was the stoical type, and suppressing his emotions, he bent every effort to support Jemma who, being a fighter, set out to beat her sickness.
They canlı bahis siteleri discussed whether to tell Hannah the full import of Jemma’s condition, and decided not to. They would try to let her have her time abroad without feeling the need to curtail it and return home. They simply wrote to Hannah that her mother was “not too well.” Hannah replied asking for further information and this they fended off, telling her “not to worry,” and to continue to “enjoy herself.”
In fact Hannah was not enjoying herself. The trip had turned sour after her gang bang experience. She began to long for the security of home and several times almost booked her flight to return. The world around her seemed to have gone dark, and from the wild and joyful freedom, especially the sexual freedom, in the early days of her trip, she now felt guilt and shame.
Her dream of the faceless spectre in the mist now occurred more often and with greater intensity. She woke from it fearful, sweating and weeping. She yearned for the warmth and comfort of the love that she felt only existed with her parents.
Her feelings of guilt were added to as she began to realise how badly she had treated her mother for several years. The sexual teasing of her father she started to see and acknowledge for what it had been. She had learned a lot about the sexual arousal of men, and prayed that she had not put her father through the torment of wanting her, and having to fight against his desire.
She finally decided to continue her trip, but always with her was the desire for home.
The Return of Hannah
Hannah stepped into the waiting area of the airport. She looked eagerly for her father and mother. Finally, she spotted her father and ran towards him. She flung herself into his arms and kissed him. She looked round for her mother and could not see her. “Where’s mother?” she asked. It was then that she noticed the change in her father. His tall, upright figure had taken on a stoop. As she held on to him Hannah could feel the old vitality had gone out of him. “Something serious is wrong, isn’t it?” she demanded.
“I’ll tell you on the way home,” Paul said wearily. As they drove he told Hannah of the serious condition Jemma was in, and how she would find her changed. “We didn’t want to spoil your time abroad,” he said. “Oh God,” thought Hannah, “If only I’d known…If only they had known how I longed to come home.”
Despite her father’s words of preparation, Hannah was horrified at her mother’s appearance. Jemma was now permanently confined to bed, lying there like a bundle of sticks. Had Hannah simply walked into the room not knowing that it was her mother in there, she would not have recognised her. She wanted to cry out, but controlled herself, went to her mother and carefully embraced her saying, “Hello mother.”
Jemma was heavily sedated, but she managed a smile and in a weak voice whispered, “Hello darling.”
Jemma should have been put into full time medical care some weeks before, but she had insisted on remaining at home until Hannah’s return. Now she had one more day before she was to be removed. She asked for only the minimum sedation during that day, so she could be as alert as possible for Hannah.
Hannah sat by her bed all that day, moving away only to bring something Jemma needed or attend to her own calls of nature. Jemma had fought the cancer, but was now resigned to her inevitable death that was not far off. She opened herself up to Hannah, telling her of the love she bore her, and the wonderful marriage out of which Hannah had been born.
Hannah had been reluctant to burden her dying mother with her own feelings of guilt towards her, but finally she said, “Mother, I’m so sorry for my awful behaviour to you. Can you forgive me?” Jemma smiled her weak smiled and said simply, “I understood, darling.”
Next day Jemma was moved into a hospice. Paul and Hannah took it in turns to sit by her bed until a week later she died. Three days before her death Jemma spoke her last coherent words to Hannah. “Darling, your father has been very strong. Care for him.”
The busyness and bustle during the pre-funeral period tends to distract even those with greatest cause for grief. When that time is over, the friends and relatives gone, and the grieving ones find themselves alone, or as in the case of Paul and Hannah, left together, there seems to be a hiatus. It is as if one exists in a void.
“Why is the world still going on, when mine is at an end?” thought Paul. “Why does the clock tell me that time is passing when I want it stop…to turn back?” Stoic as he had been, and still was, he felt utterly bereft. The love of his life had been torn from him, and the years ahead were a blank. He saw no reason to go on living. His deepest reason for living had died.
Hannah, drifting round the house or lying on her bed, wept, but she wept alone. She could not understand why her father remained so silent. “Why does he not cry out?” she wondered. “Why are there no tears, no anger?” She prayed, “Please let him weep. Let him curse God and life, but don’t let him go on in this silence.”
Still Paul remained shut fast within himself, his agony and despair unexpressed.
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