Phoenix Rising

by Anais Ninja

  “Daddy! What...what is...?” I stopped in my tracks, one hand on the bodice of my dress, over my heart, feeling it flutter.

  “Happy birthday, Princess,” my father said, coming over to me and putting his arm around my shoulder, leading me to the couch.

  “But...but my birthday was last month,” I said, sitting down between Mia and Dana.

  “I know, Annie,” my father said. “And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to celebrate with you. We wanted to make it up to you.”

  “Daddy, that’s so sweet...”

  “Actually, it was Dana’s idea,” he said.

  “Is that true?” I asked her. She nodded and smiled, and I hugged her, kissing her rosy cheeks. “You’re the best sister a girl could have.”

  “I love you, Annie,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

  “I love you, too,” I whispered, hugging her again.

  “Let’s have some dinner first,” Mia said. “Then we can open your presents and have some cake.”

  “Presents?” I would have been happy with just a slice of cake.

  “We all got you something,” David said, reaching around his sister’s shoulders to take my hand.

  “You shouldn’t have,” I said. I felt such deep love for my family, wanting to make my last night there something special.

  “Let’s eat,” my father said. “I’m starving.”

  We adjourned to the dining room, where the table had been set with Mia’s good china and silverware. There was a floral centerpiece and two flickering candles. My father sat me at the head of the table, taking a seat at the opposite end, with Mia on one side and David and Dana on the other. Mia disappeared into the kitchen and returned with the first course, her amazing onion soup. My father poured wine for everyone, and after the soup Mia and Dana served the main course, roast rack of lamb with new potatoes and steamed baby carrots. I already knew what a great cook Mia was, but that night she outdid herself.

  After dinner, my father and the kids cleared the table and did the dishes while Mia and I sat in the living room, sipping our wine and chatting. She promised to show me how to make that wonderful onion soup, and asked about my father’s reaction when I told him of my plans to return to Boston and attend school there that spring.

  “He took it well,” I said. “He told me that having me half the year was better than none.”

  “I’m glad,” Mia said. “He’s been so much sweeter this past week. I think it’s because you’re here with us.” She reached for my hand, slipping her fingers between mine as she sipped her wine.

  “Maybe,” I said. “He still drinks too much. I worry about him.”

  “I know,” she said. “He said he would see someone about that, a therapist or something.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “I’m sure everything will work out.”

  “I hope so,” Mia whispered, squeezing my hand. Just then my father and the kids came into the living room, carrying the birthday cake, which they’d brought into the kitchen in order to light the candles. David and Dana started singing “Happy Birthday”, and my father and Mia joined in.

  “Make a wish, Annie!” Dana said, her big beautiful eyes reflecting the flickering candles.

  “Okay, here goes.” I closed my eyes and thought of the one thing I most wanted in the world, to be with my family again, people I’d hardly know nine days earlier who were now close to me, who had given me their love, who were now sharing a piece of my heart. I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, blowing out all of the candles. David had brought plates and forks, and handed a long knife to Mia so she could slice the cake.

  After cake and coffee, my father went into his den and returned with a stack of gaily wrapped presents, placing them on the coffee table in front of me. As he began to snap some pictures, Dana urged me to open my gifts.

  “This one’s from me,” she said, handing me a small square box.

  “Thank you, sweetie,” I said, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. I unwrapped the box, slipping the pink ribbon over the sides and sliding my fingertips under the seam of the brightly colored paper. Inside the package was a lovely little wooden jewelry box, hand carved and painted, and lined with dark blue velvet. It played a tune when I opened it, delicate little notes from a clockwork mechanism inside.

  “It’s lovely,” I said, hugging my little stepsister. “I love it. Thank you.” Dana looked so pleased when I said that, and she snuggled up to me on the couch while I opened the next present, an oblong box that looked hastily wrapped. Inside was a necklace, turquoise stones set in silver.

  “That’s from me,” David said, smiling sheepishly as I held it against my throat.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said, reaching for his hand. “Help me put it on.” He walked around to the back of the couch and fastened the clasp. The stones felt smooth, the silver cold against my skin. He leaned over and gave me a quick peck on the cheek as my father snapped a photograph.

  I opened the rest of the presents while everyone watched and had more cake and ice cream. Mia had bought me my own tennis racket, along with a outfit like the one she’d lent me, a short white pleated skirt, sleeveless knit sweater, and even a pair of those ridiculous ruffled tennis panties. I blushed when I held them up for everyone to see, but I appreciated the gift anyway and gave her a kiss and a big hug. My father’s gifts were even more personal, a sheer yellow babydoll nightie and a pair of matching boudoir slippers with 3” heels a fluff of marabou on the uppers.

  “Daddy, they’re lovely,” I said.

  “Just like your mother used to wear,” he said. He was smiling, but there was a wistful look in his eyes, as if he wanted to turn back the years and return to a time when we’d been together, with my mother and I, before he left us.

  “I know,” I said, feeling my eyes begin to water, tears of happiness flowing down my cheeks. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  “Wear it with someone you love,” he said, kneeling by the couch, drying my tears with a napkin. Mia put her arm around my shoulder and Dana took my hand in hers, and they held me while I wept joyful tears. I felt a tug at my heart, knowing I’d be leaving my family the next day. I began to wonder if I’d made the right decision.

  I managed to compose myself after a while, though I had to make a quick trip to the bathroom to fix my streaking mascara. My father took more photos, setting the timer on the camera so we could all pose together on the couch. He sent David into his den for the Polaroid, taking some instant snaps so I’d have something to take back to Boston with me, though he promised to mail copies of the shots he’d taken with his 35mm camera.

  We’d just about finished the cake when it was time for David and Dana to go off to bed. They put up a bit of a fuss, complaining that it was a Saturday night and that my father and Mia usually allowed them to stay up late, but my father was adamant, and they headed off to their rooms. Mia followed, promising to tuck them into bed, leaving my father and I alone on the living room couch.

  “Thank you for the wonderful evening, Daddy,” I said, reaching for his hand.

  “I’m glad you liked it, kitten,” he said, moving closer and putting his arm around my shoulder. “It’s not quite over yet, though.” He reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the vial of cocaine that Krystle had given us for our camping trip. He leaned over the coffee table and spilled some out on the glass, using a business card to form the pile of powder into four short lines. We snorted them, and I leaned back against the couch, closing my eyes as I felt the rush chase my weariness away. He lit a joint just as Mia returned from putting the kids to bed. Though she couldn’t do any cocaine while she was pregnant, she did have a hit off of the joint and poured herself a half glass of wine, even though she was just past her daily limit of one glass. I sat between the two of them, my father’s arm around my shoulder, Mia’s hand on my thigh, gently caressing me as we smoked the rest of the joint.

  “The kids should be asleep by now,” Mia said. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

  “I’ll me
et you there in a minute,” I said. She and my father gave me a kiss and headed down the hall. I took a last sip of wine, picked up the box with the nightie and slippers my father had given me, and went into Dana’s bedroom to change. The lights were out, but she was still awake, and she sat up in bed and turned on the lamp on her night table.

  “Could we cuddle for a while?” Dana asked me, blinking her eyes against the light.

  “I’m going to sleep with Daddy and Mia tonight,” I said, stepping out of my dress and sitting down on the edge of her bed. “We can cuddle later, okay?”

  “Okay, Annie,” she said, holding out her arms for a hug and a kiss.

  “It was so nice of you to think of this,” I said. “It was the best birthday I’ve ever had.”

  “I’m so happy you liked it, Annie.”

  “When’s your birthday, Dana?”

  “In March,” she said. “I’m turning eleven.”

  “Eleven,” I said. “That’s a wonderful age. I hope I can be here for that. We can do something really, really special for your birthday.”

  “Thank you, Annie,” she said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, sweetheart. Now get some sleep, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said, laying her head down on her pillow. She watched as I took off my bra, panties, and stockings, donning the nightie my father had given me, slipping the sheer yellow panties up my legs and stepping into the marabou trimmed mules. Before I turned out the light, I gave Dana a tender kiss on the lips. Her eyes were half-closed, as if she was fighting to stay awake.

  “You look so pretty,” she said.

  “Thank you, baby,” I whispered, kissing the tip of her nose and turning out the light. “Good night, Dana.”

  “Good night, Annie.”

  I took a last look at her, smiling as she pulled the blanket up to her chest, and closed the door, heading for my father’s bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, but I knocked anyway and heard Mia say “Come in”. She was sitting on the bed, wearing a white lace chemise that stretched a bit in front to accommodate the swell of her belly. My father was in his boxers, leaning over the bedside table, snorting a line of cocaine. He wiped his nose, looked up, and smiled.

  “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he said.

  “Lovely,” Mia added. “Come here, Annie.” I climbed into their bed, laying between my father and his pregnant wife. Mia gently pulled me on top of her, pressing her lips against mine, her hands roaming under my nightie. As we kissed, I felt my father’s gentle caress as well, and I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling of two pairs of hands sculpting the curves and hollows of my body, cupping my cheeks, fondling my breasts through the nightie’s sheer fabric. My father pulled me off of Mia, laying behind me, softly stroking my skin as he nuzzled my hair and kissed my neck. Mia turned to face me, and we kissed again, my lips yielding to her soft tongue as I ran my hands over her round belly and swollen breasts.

  I felt someone’s hands tugging at my panties, and I lifted my hips off of the bed so they could pull them down my thighs and off my legs. It must have been my father, because Mia’s hands were cupping and squeezing my tits. I felt his hardness, nestling between my cheeks, as if we were made to fit together like this. I wanted him so much, and I began pressing my bottom against his manhood, rubbing my cheeks up and down against his cock. Mia slipped one of the nightie’s thin straps off of my shoulder, exposing my stiff nipple, which she began to lick and suckle, making soft mewling sounds as I reached under her chemise and found her cleft. She must have shaved again, because I expected stubble and felt none, just the smooth feeling of skin lotion on her bare labia. As I probed her nether lips, feeling the warmth between her legs, she reached for my sex, teasing it with her fingertip, gently probing me, feeling the moisture within.

  “She’s ready for you, Frank,” Mia said, lifting my thigh. I felt the tip of my father’s cock pressing against my slit. He put his hands on my waist and moved his hips, trying to find the right angle that would allow him entrance to my passage. Mia gave my clit one last rub with her finger and grasped her husband’s penis, guiding it into my sex. He began to slide inside me, slowly, carefully, and I could feel every vein and ridge on his shaft as he filled me, until his hairy balls pressing against my thigh.

  As my father began to move his hips, Mia pulled the top of her chemise down over her shoulders, baring her swollen breasts and large brown areolae. I leaned forward and began to suckle her, feeling them harden between my lips, tasting the thin, sweet fluid that oozed from her nipples. She moaned and stroked my hair, her hips moving in time with my father’s as she humped my fingers.

  “Annie...yes...right there...,” Mia gasped as I rubbed her clitoris, making her move her hips faster as I lashed it with my fingertip. As my father’s beautiful cock slid in and out of my hungry hole, she teased my little button, swirling her fingers around it, rolling my pearl between them. The bed began to make a rhythmic squeaking sound as the three of us writhed as one, seeking our pleasure together, riding the bed towards our release.

  Mia gently lifted my head from her breasts, seeking my lips for a kiss, her tongue probing, searching for mine, eager for a taste of her own milk. I could feel my father start to thrust faster, watching over my shoulder as his wife and I kissed, a sight that spurred him on even more. As I sucked on Mia’s busy tongue, he began to pound me faster, harder, his thighs slapping against my bottom with every stroke, pushing me against Mia’s fingers, pressing my belly against hers. I could feel my pleasure begin to mount with every thrust, pinned between his thick shaft and her hand, sandwiched between husband and wife, an instrument of their desire.

  I began to imagine what life would be like with them, servicing Mia in the mornings, sucking my father’s cock when he arrived home from work, watching the progress of David’s growing penis as he reached adulthood, seeing Dana blossom into a beautiful young lady, the swell of her hips beginning to form, her budding breasts blooming like mine.

  And then there was the baby, the real guest of honor here. I could feel him stirring within Mia’s belly, and I suddenly had the desire to have one of my own. I felt a tingling within my womb, a longing, the urge to feel my father’s seed planted inside me, to feel my father’s baby grow inside my body. The tingling began to spread, pushing away these unfamiliar thoughts, and I lost myself in my climax, releasing Mia’s tongue from my mouth so I could give voice to my joy.

  “Daddy...Mommy...yes...oh, yes...” I clung to Mia’s belly as she pressed her sex against my hand, tears of joy filling my eyes. My father pumped my spasming slit, tightening his grip on my waist, pulling me back and forth on his twitching shaft. I could feel him getting close, so familiar I’d become to his reflexes and responses, but it was Mia’s turn to find her pleasure as her hips bucked, rubbing her sex back and forth over my trembling hand.

  “Annie...baby...my sweet...oh...” Mia buried her face in my hair as her words turned to moans, moans to stifled cries, cries to a near-scream muffled by the pillow. Her hips began to rock irregularly and I felt the tension building in her body suddenly relax as she let out a long, low moan. Seeing his wife and daughter come together must have had an effect on my father, because his thrusts began to get erratic, as if he was trying not to come just then. But he lost whatever control he had, letting out a deep sigh as his twitching cock began to erupt inside me, filling me with his seed.

  If only I wasn’t wearing my diaphragm, I thought. I might have a baby, a pretty little girl or a handsome boy of my own, to love and care for, to cherish. I knew in my heart that this was an irrational feeling, impractical, almost whimsical were it not for the long-term implications. At the very least I’d miss more classes, probably never even go to college. And that’s not to mention pregnancy, childbirth, nursing, years of constant care before school starts, and years of responsibility after that. Still, there was this allure to the idea, and every kick of the baby in Mia’s belly tugged at my heart.

  I tried not to think about this
, preferring to lose myself in their caresses. I told myself that it was the cocaine talking. It always made my thoughts go a mile a minute, especially whenever I smoked pot afterwards. I snuggled up against Mia, feeling her warmth, her gentle touch as my father stroked my back and nuzzled my neck. Mia rolled over on her back, trying to find a comfortable position, and I laid my head on her shoulder, opening my eyes for just a second.

  That’s when I saw them, two pairs of eyes at the window, watching as the three of us lay quietly together. I didn’t think it could be David and Dana, at least not at first. They were asleep, I thought. These must be prowlers or something.

  “Someone’s watching us,” I said quietly.

  “Where?” my father said.

  “At the window.”

  “Wait here,” he said, slipping out of my sloppy sex and rolling out of bed. He put on his bathrobe and reached for something on the top shelf of his closet, something silver that he slipped into the pocket of his robe. As my father put on his slippers and left the bedroom, Mia drew the sheets over her breasts and backed against the headboard, shaking like a leaf, and I cuddled up to her, holding her in my arms.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “Daddy will take care of this.”

  “I hope you’re right,” she said.

  “You’re not freaked out about this?” I asked her.

  “What, prowlers? Of course I’m freaked out.”

  “No, not that,” I said. “This. Us. You and me and Daddy.”

  “No, I’m not freaked out about that,” she said, her fear abating for a moment. “Not at all. I think it’s beautiful. We love you so much.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I have a confession to make,” Mia whispered.

  “Tell me.”

  “When I was younger, eleven, twelve years old, I had these feelings for my father.”