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Francine Carver was a bitch and Elise Michaels knew it. How she had become friends with the forty year old slightly eccentric woman was something she had never understood. They had met at a RWA conference and had, for some reason, clicked.
“Champagne?” The waiter at the four star French restaurant Francine insisted on treating her to held out the bottle waiting to tip it into her glass.
She put her hand over the top of the champagne flute.
“No, thank you.” Elise sighed again wondering what she was doing her. “Just a Perrier with a straw please.”
“Oh, come on, Elise.” Francine cajoled after the waiter left patting the bun at the back of her head to make sure every one of her bleach blond hairs were in place. “This is a celebration. It’s not everyday a writer as talented as you wins such a prestigious award. RWA Romance Writer of the Year is hardly something to sneeze at.”
“I know, but I’m not particularly fond of champagne.” Elise tried to keep her smile in place. “I just can’t drink in the middle of the afternoon.”
Especially in Francine’s presence. The woman was so austere and somber with one exception. She dressed like an expensive hooker. She was five foot two with a petite waist despite the fact she’d had five children. She had an oval face that was perfect and flawless due largely to the plastic surgeries her husband willingly paid for. Her breasts were large; her nipples constantly hard something Elise had no choice, but to notice because of the sluttish clothes she wore.
“Your loss.” Francine watched her as she took a long sip from her glass. “I read one of your novels. I can see why you received the award. Your love scenes are quite steamy. And your hero…mmmm, yummy.”
“Thanks.” Elise felt uncomfortable. She knew where this was heading. Francine had a fascination with sex and used every opportunity to talk about it.
“What’s your inspiration?” Francine put down her glass and arched a brow. “You must have a man in your life like your hero to write about him so realistically.”
“Francine, you know I don’t date. Pure imagination.” Elise hoped if she kept the answers short she could steer the conversation elsewhere.
“Oh come on. Between us girls.” Francine practically purred. “I saw your father once from a distance. The description of your hero matches your father to a tee.”
Elise stared at her for a long moment. Where had Francine seen her father? She lived in New York City. Her father lived in Stamford, Connecticut. Very rarely did he ever come to the city to visit her.
She did draw inspiration from her father. He was the best of men and the handsomest, but she wasn’t about to admit it to her. It was something she would never admit to anyone.
“No. My heroes come from my imagination.”
She tried to understand where Francine was going with this. She normally canlı bahis şirketleri could see exactly where their conversations were leading. That wasn’t the case now. Francine had no expression on her face now. Her green eyes were ice cold.
The waiter returned with her Perrier. Elise ordered a salad as did Francine. She took a sip of her water knowing Francine would get to the point sooner or later whether she wanted her to or not. Elise suspected she wouldn’t like where this conversation was going.
“You’re telling me you have never noticed how sexy your father is.” Francine frowned at her as if this wasn’t something she expected.
“I don’t think of my father that way.” Elise stared at Francine as if she were insane. “Why are you asking these questions?”
Francine looked away for a moment as if she were thinking of how to say it. She turned back to her; her gaze wary and vulnerable.
“I’ve been having these intense sexual fantasies about my father and I just…I need to know if I’m the only one. My father is a distinguished older man and lately, I’ve been very, very attracted to him. Sometimes I’ve wanted him so badly it’s been hard to concentrate on anything else.”
Elise opened and closed her mouth. She stifled the urge to release a nervous laugh. She had known Francine was perverted but this was beyond anything she had ever thought was possible.
“Um…I’m sure its normal. Freud said that girls subconsciously desire their fathers the same way boys desire their mothers.” Elise tried to be intellectual about it.
“Yes, but it feels so real.” Tears filled Francine’s eyes. “In my dream, I’m submissive to his will. It always happens in his study. Can I tell you what happens?”
“Um…I guess.” Elise didn’t know what else to say. She was too shocked to tell her what she really wanted to. Hell no!
“He called me into his study and told me to stand in front of him. He was wearing his navy pinstripe suit the one that molded to his body making him seem even larger than he was.”
Francine stopped briefly when their food came. Elise felt sick to her stomach. She didn’t know if she could force herself to eat. Francine was describing it as if it had really happened.
“He bent me over his desk, lifted my skirt, ripped by panties off me, and told me he was going to fuck me. Fuck me hard.” She continued. “I wanted it. I was so wet for him. Dripping wet.”
Elise looked down at the tomato she had just speared with her fork dripping with ranch salad dressing. She made a face and quickly put down the fork.
“He thrust inside me hard and fast. It was painful, but a pleasurable pain.”
Oh my god. Elise thought. She’s really going to describe every single part of it. She took a sip of her water fighting the urge to vomit.
“He fucked me so hard the desk shook. It canlı kaçak iddaa was so good I screamed and rubbed my breasts through my white silk blouse. I came harder than I ever had in my entire life. He slammed into my pussy and made me his bitch. He came inside me and I prayed I got pregnant. I wanted to stay with him for the rest of my life. I wanted to be his wife.”
Tears poured down Francine’s face. She trembled uncontrollably.
“Please tell me it’s normal.” She whimpered. “Please tell me you’ve fantasized about your father.”
A wave of sympathy washed over Elise. She was still sick to her stomach. Francine had been way too descriptive. She didn’t think of her father in a sexual way but she had fantasized about him once. That had largely been due to the influence of friends.
“Once when I was in high school.” Elise replied after a moment. “It’s completely natural, Francine. Our fathers are our most important role models. Sometimes they show us the type of man we want to marry.”
“So you think about marrying someone like your father?” Francine tilted her head to study her.
Elise felt uncomfortable under her scrutiny. It was as if she were searching for something.
“All the time.” Elise replied, proudly. “My father is good, kind, decent, and honest. He treats people with respect. He won sexiest man of the year at his company. I would love to be married to a man like him.”
“Really?” Francine’s eyes grew cold for a brief moment before they were weepy again. “How old were you when you had this fantasy?”
“I was eighteen.” Elise tucked her hair behind her ear. What had she gotten herself into now? Francine wasn’t going to be happy until she wrung every detail from her.
“Tell me the fantasy.” Francine leaned forward. There was a strange gleam in her eyes. A gleam she didn’t trust.
“I don’t know…” Elise hedged.
“Come on.” Francine urged. “I told you mine. Tell me like I told you. Like it actually happened. Where did it happen?”
“In my father’s office at Microprose, Incorporated.” Elise sighed, giving in. Francine could be like a bulldog when she wanted something. “I went to join him for lunch. When I got there the floor was empty which was unusual. It was normally bustling with activity. He was in his office sitting in his swivel chair. He got up to greet me. He hugged me and kissed me on the lips. It was innocent at first. He brushed my hair from my face as he always did and kissed me again. This time it was different. More like a man kisses his lover.”
The waiter came to take their dishes. Elise felt her heart pounding in her chest as the fantasy came back to her. The waiter asked if she wanted a box for her salad. Elise didn’t hesitate to shake her head. She doubted she would ever have ranch dressing on her salad ever again.
She waited until he left before she continued.
“I canlı kaçak bahis opened my mouth to protest. I knew it was wrong. He swept in covering his mouth with mine smothering any protest as he ravaged my mouth. His tongue mingled with mine. All thought was lost. I gave in. He turned me so I was against his desk. He laid me back on his desk. His hand caressed my thigh traveling higher to cup me; rubbing me with his hand. I moaned and writhed. Everything fell off his desk but we didn’t care.”
“He told me to beg him to go down on me.” She continued. “I did. I wanted him so badly. He didn’t hesitate. He drove me crazy. I was wild, uninhibited. He asked me how hard I wanted it. I begged him to break me. He took off his pants and entered me. Like your fantasy, he slammed into me so hard the desk shook. He made me cum like I never had. Then I woke up.”
Francine stared at her. Her breaths coming in short gasps as if her fantasy had excited her. That was even sicker than Francine admitting she wanted to marry her father and have children with him.
Incest was taboo. It was wrong. It was morally wrong. A parent wasn’t supposed to love their child like that. It was a statistical fact though that children fantasized about their parents. Fantasizing was normal. Acting on it was beyond wrong. It was a line that should never be crossed.
The waiter came with the check. They were both silent as Francine paid for their lunch. They were silent as they slung the straps of their purses over their shoulders and went outside both of them thankfully had taken different vehicles.
Elise had driven in her beat up, old, red, Chevy Cavalier and Francine had ridden in her black stretched limousine.
“That was a most illuminating lunch.” Francine smiled brightly. “I feel so much better knowing someone else feels the way I do.”
“I’m glad I could help.” Elise forced a cheerful smile on her face. “Really, you shouldn’t feel bad about it. Everyone does it at least once.”
They hugged and parted. Elise felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Her intuition was normally right on the ball. Something wasn’t right. Something was wrong. As she got into her car, she wished she could put her finger on it.
* * * * *
Francine got into her limousine feeling giddy. She had done it. She had gotten what her father wanted. As the driver closed the door, she reached into her purse and took out her cell phone. Her hands shook as she pressed the button for contacts. His number was the only one listed.
He answered on the first ring.
“Well?” His voice was hard and demanding. It made her shiver.
“We got her, baby.” Francine said, joyfully. She would be rewarded well later that night. “A little editing and we can release it to the public.”
“I love you, Francine.” Her father’s voice was soft and tender. A tone he only used with her. “You’re a good little wife.”
“I love you too, daddy.”
He hung up and Francine put her cell phone back in her purse. This was going to be good. This was going to be better than good. This was going to be fun.
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