This is the tale of how our baby daughter chose to cope with her divorce and the ramifications her poor decisions had on those around her. When I say baby, I mean first-born. Her name is Jennifer, Jenny if you know her well. Jen if you're married to her. She's 31, five-foot seven, about 135 pounds if I had to guess, with a nice lanky frame. She has dark brown hair, like her mother, which she keeps fairly short. She's a lawyer by profession and has established herself at a firm in downtown Atlanta. Her recent problems began about a year ago, when her wimpy, metro sexual husband of four years announced he no longer wanted to be married to her; he wanted to be married to his receptionist instead. My kid took the news hard; she was raised to believe your first marriage was your last. It hit her so hard; she asked if she could move back in with us, just for a while. Of course we said yes. The first few months were sad; we tried to fix her up but no one impressed her. She would get up, go to work, bring some work home, get up the next day and repeat.
Our worries lessened as she gradually started spending more time out with her friends and coworkers. She wouldn't open up to her mother or I, but she started a casual relationship with someone from her office. We didn't know who it was and we didn't care; we were just relieved she was getting on with her life. My wife was content for about a month. Jennifer kept dating her mystery man but still wouldn't divulge any details. When we pressed, she just responded that there wasn't anything to tell; they were just friends and coworkers who enjoyed each other's company. That wasn't good enough her mother, she wanted, needed details, so she put me on the case. She explained this was the safest course because if I got caught snooping she could deny any involvement. That way, she explained, my daughter would only hate me. This passes for clear thinking on my wife's part.
I started with Jennifer's laptop. I made my money designing security software for major corporations so I can hack my way into anything. The fact that I set up her computer and I know all her passwords was a big help, too. In my first session, I was able to determine she was carrying on a relationship with someone at work named Derrick. Reading between the lines of their early emails, it was apparent they were intimate from the very beginning. By intimate, I mean she was fucking him; and it seems like that's their only shared interest. They arrange to meet, do the deed and then part company. No mention of dinners, picnics, bowling or moonlight strolls. This Derrick would compliment my daughter on her sexual appetite and she would reply that she was happy she could provide a service; she just hoped he could keep up. It was clear from his emails that he had chased her for so long with nothing to show for his efforts that he almost gave up. I guess the last shot he took at Jennifer was the one that hit the mark. She just replied that she was free, white and twenty-one and could fuck, her word, whoever she wanted, and that he could have her as long as she made him happy. I remember when her mother used to say slutty shit like that. I decided that I'd invaded her privacy enough for one day so I shut it down and thought about what I'd tell the ball and chain.
A few words about me; I used to be a pervert, but now I think I'm just a dirty old man, and I think my condition is getting worse the older I get. The wife and I are in our mid-fifties but we still like to fuck. With too much time on my hands, that's all I think about anymore. If I'm not doing the fucking, I like to hand around people who are fucking. I'm just a big fan of fucking. Whatever prurient interests I had in my daughter's recently resurrected sex life, I was content to leave it where it laid. She was moving on, I told the wife, isn't that what we wanted? Let's just leave it at that. Of course we couldn't leave it at that. Maggie, my wife of thirty-three years, needed to know more. She didn't need to know more, she needed to know everything. I can't hang all the blame on her; I was dying to see my only daughter in action, too. So, with nothing but time, talent and resources at my disposal, I launched a cyber attack on my own kid. It was easy; it's what I did for a living.
The next session with her computer didn't reveal much. These two didn't like to talk (type?) dirty and weren't real fond of photos. I did a quick scan, retrieved a few bits of jerk-off material, installed a kernel-based keystroke logger and got out.
All things considered, I was quite pleased with the kid. She wanted some and went out and got some. She's like her mother; they're both very doable in that reserved, upper middle class way. Her mother can be a complete whore as long as the lights are out. In fact, we've been hiding a disgusting secret for many years; we used to swap partners with a few couples we knew back when we were younger and better looking. But that was so long ago; I think my wife has blocked it out of her memory. Our daughter's newfound penchant for spreading her pussy around has brought back a lot of those bad memories. There are times when I'd like to do her myself, but I don't see it happening. I picture her in bed, on her back, knees drawn up and spread wide while she reaches down and guides a nice fat cock into her sloppy pussy. If she's at all like her mom, she probably still has her bush. I bet she'd rub the head of the lucky winner's cock up and down her slit a few times just so it slides into her cunt easier. I can hear her exhale as her cock of the day arches his back and sinks into her in a single, fluid motion. I'm getting way off track, must maintain focus. But the wife kept badgering me for more details, so I had to jump back into action.
Jennifer's firm's website had pictures and bios of all of the lawyers, and this Derrick wasn't among them, so that meant he wasn't a lawyer or he was new. Her firm is handling the sale of my business, so it's easy to cook up a reason to drop in. I was in the middle of my meeting with my lawyer when we were briefly interrupted; his secretary said he needed to sign something ASAP. He apologized, said it would only take a second, and the door opened behind me. He said, "James, have you met the head of our Investigative Unit? James, this is Derrick Taylor. Derrick, this is James Tanner. You know Jennifer Cannon in our Corporate Division? This is her father." I found myself face to face, actually face to chin, with about six feet six of smiling, chiseled, uber-confident African-American male. Now I know why our little Jenny hasn't brought her new Derrick around to meet the folks. Maggie will blow a gasket when she finds out what her little angel's been up to. We shook hands and smiled at each other like he knew a secret I didn't. "I talked to Jennifer this morning and she didn't mention you were stopping by." "Strictly business", I replied. "I was going to pop in on my way out. Please don't spoil my surprise." "I wouldn't dream of it", Derrick replied, "nobody loves a secret more than I do." He held up his folder of signed documents and said, "I have to get these to the courier. A pleasure meeting Jenny's father. We must get together for lunch soon." And, poof, he was gone. Jenny, huh. She doesn't let anyone except her closest friends and family call her Jenny. My initial foray inside the enemy camp was already paying off. I had identified Derrick, I knew why baby girl was keeping mom and pop out of the loop and I knew how intimate the two of them were. I was proud of my little Jenny; it looked like she'd finally made it to the big leagues.
Jennifer is a busy lawyer, so I just stuck my head in to say hello. She was surprised to see me and little pissed. She invited me in, asked me to sit, and then started ragging on me. It turns out she forgot her phone that day and I could have brought it to her. "I really need my phone. I can't live without my phone. I do everything on my phone. I keep in touch with all of my friends with my phone." Phone, Phone, Phone. She was swamped with work, the way she likes it, so I profusely apologized for serving her majesty in such a shabby manner. I promised to consult her prior to my every move, bowed and backed out of her office; careful not to gaze directly upon her. On the way home it hit me; all the good shit is on her phone. You must get access to her phone. Phone. Phone. Phone.
I still planned to monitor her computer, but I needed to get her phone. The method I chose is evidence that I would have made a superb evil genius.
She has a terrible habit of putting her phone on charge and forgetting it. Me, being the loving father, offered to covert it to one of those charging pads so all she had to do was set it down. She gave it to me to change out the battery pack and I took it to my former security advisor. We, he actually, was able to decipher her account passwords. Problem solved. I have access to her computer, I have access to her PDA, I can tap our landline and I can put a face to the guy she's banging. Move the fuck over, James Bond, there's a new sheriff in town.
I now believe I've crafted the perfect system. I have unlimited access to her computer; she leaves it at home on standby most days. She can access it from anywhere so there's no real need to carry it to work. Her PDA is what I'm most proud of. She keeps it on the pad IN MY DEN. I told you that I was a fucking genius. All this good news is tempered by the fact that these two really don't do a great deal of dirty shit over the phone lines. They work together, so most of their communicating must take place there. I was running out of leads until a nice, fat, juicy one fell into my lap one day. It was a very brief message that revealed to the world how large a whore my sweet Jenny had become: Jβour intrvw posted--at last ur #1 dime go w3.BeMyNewDaddy.com pwrd legalBEAVER srchβIntrvws Shell Cracked Open. soon wrld will kno ru redy? D
I heard someone coming, so I scribbled the website on a piece of paper and hid it in my safe. I don't know why I went to the trouble. That's one website and password that will be forever burned into my brain. I hoped I wouldn't go nuts before I could access it. The kid was out, no doubt getting fucked and filled with black seed, and we had the shack to ourselves. I was dying to watch the fucking thing, but wifey wanted to go shopping. 'Great, have a good time. Don't hurry back. Here, take all my credit cards. Here, this is all the cash I have on me. Just leave me the fuck alone so I can watch your daughter answer questions about what turned her into a nigger lover. Before you go, where do you keep the baby oil?' But instead I said, "OK hon, Do I have time to check my emails?" Of course I had time, she still had to 'get ready'. She can be one annoying pain in the ass at times, but it did give me time to punch up the site. Bam, there they were, my first-born and the buff Negro that was turning her out. My fucking heart started racing when I saw her picture with the caption: 'Meet Candy and D-Master, our interracial newbies of the month! Jasmine's a lawyer who's 100% committed to black cock worship and D-Master going to make sure she gets done right!' Do I have time to beat off? I think so, it won't take long. The fucking interview was almost two hours long. I downloaded it and burned it to a thumb drive, then put that in the fucking safe, too. Note to self: Sign up to your new favorite site. I have to go shopping now. We got home and Jennifer was home, watching the tube. I thought to myself, how can you crawl off, let a nigger do despicable things to your body, and then sit on the couch all calm, cool and collected like nothing's up? Just like her mother, I know a lot of the secrets that bitch has been hiding over the years, and she maintains the faΓ§ade motherhood and respectability. If only we had video back then. It still gets me hard when I think of the shit she's pulled when she thought I wasn't looking. What really pissed me off was the fact that it was Friday night and I wouldn't have the house alone to myself until Monday. No way I could hold out that long.
Say hello to the newest subscriber to the website "BeMyNewDaddy.com" My user ID is usemykid, and my password is 'daughter4blk'. It's actually a pretty cool site; dedicated to amateur white women who submit to African cock. My kind of site. Anyway, I finally sat down to watch the interview at about 9:30 on Monday and watched it nonstop until my wife pulled in the driveway at about five. She was mad because dinner wasn't started. Fuck her! The interview was stunning. I use that word because I'm still stunned at the shit that came out of my daughter's mouth. She intends to go dark and stay dark for the rest of her life. In her words, servicing the black race's sexual needs and desires is what she was put here for. Fuck! I've watched it so many times; I can almost recite it from memory. The interview took place in a motel room, probably in the Keys where she went with 'a few friends from work' last month. There are two interviewers; a male that sounds black and a woman that sounds white. Does that make me a racist? Sorry. Let me make it up to you. Here, fuck my daughter. Of course Candy and D-Master are present. Maybe those are there porn names when the turn pro. Other than the cameraman, that's it.
Female Interviewer: Candy; let's start off with you. What are your vitals?"
Candy/Jennifer: Five foot eight, one hundred thirty five pounds on a good day, 34-30-32 with a healthy C cup and thirty-one years old.
FI; Is Candy your real name or your porn name?
C: It's not my real name, so I guess it's my porn name."