Susan.The events I am going to describe took place not long after my eighteenth birthday, and just before the beginning of the school spring term.Over...Christmas Daddy had suddenly announced that it was about time he redecorated the spare bedroom, which, as he was very thorough about these things, meant stripping off the old wallpaper, thoroughly cleaning the bare walls and all the paintwork, and making good any holes and cracks before finally repainting and putting up new wallpaper. I offered. My father was passed out next to me in a drunken c***. Breathing heavily and smelling of gin. I lay next to him still trying to get a grip on what had occurred only a few hours prior. I lifted the blanket to reconfirm that we were still infact naked as if it had all been some twisted little dream. It was wrong what had happened. Like therapy for me, prison for dad wrong. But those thoughts quickly escaped my mind as I rubbed my fingers over my puffy little lips recalling how good my father felt. More

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