What Place Is Left For Words?

What Place Is Left For Words?
By Linda Marie Van Tassell ( Sept 99)

The Blue Ridge Parkway embraces so much beauty - blue mountains, misty-eyed mornings, Irish-green grass, and white pillowy clouds that drift over the valley.
I have always loved the parkway, and I love to just drive for hours, listening to music and feeling the wind blow through my hair.

It's not surprising to me that my love for the mountains comes from my memories of my father.
Although father died when I was young, I have carried him with me always.
No man seems to have touched a deeper part of me than my father.
He gave me life, and he gave me love. As a matter of fact, he has always been my favorite, the dearest lover that I have ever known.

One particular morning, when I was just fifteen, he helped me into his beat-up old pick-up truck; and we headed to the mountains. On the way, we stopped and picked up some things for a picnic ... some chicken, rolls, cole slaw, potato salad, a couple of sodas, and a blanket.
I was surprised to see him pick up a bottle of wine but didn't say anything.

The morning was beautiful. As we drove across the bridge, I could see the mist covering the top of the mountains.
The sky was a pale baby blue, with white tufts of clouds dispersed here and there.
The sun was shining brightly, its golden rays dancing through the leafy boughs and warming my skin with its fervent kiss.

I glanced sideways at my father, and admired his dark brown hair, the angle of his jaw, his lips, and his skin, which was so tan from working out in the fields.
The faint smell of smoke and cologne drifted to my nose, and I breathed him in deeply, deeply down into my soul.
There was no doubt ... I loved my father, and I was his little girl.

"California Dreamin'" was playing on the radio as the wind whipped through the windows, blowing my hair into my eyes.
I brushed my hair out of the way and smiled at my father as he laughed.

"That's God's kiss, ya know?" he said.
I said, "Yes, I know," as he winked at me with his blue eyes that always seemed to sparkle with some hidden light.
My heart used to always go pitter-patter when I was with father.
He always made me feel so special, so loved, and so beautiful.

I slid over in the seat to sit closer to my father, and he put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer.
I so loved the feel of his cotton flannel shirt, the smell of his skin, and the feel of his denim jeans as they rubbed against my thigh.
He was like a gentle bear; yet, at the same time, he had an undefinable roughness about him.
I always had the desire to take that roughness and make it soft, to make him melt into me like some convoluted lake. Somehow, I always wanted to make him one with me.

As we turned a bend in the road, I was forced to sit even closer to my father; and I couldn't help but notice the heat of his body.
It was like a flame, leaping from the timber of his body into mine; and I suddenly felt like I was on fire.
I guess I must have blanched a little; for, my father said, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I lied, as I tried to regain my composure and breathe.
I felt like the air had been sucked from my lungs.
I couldn't understand what I was feeling.
All I knew was that I had a funny feeling in my stomach, my nipples were hardened against my shirt, and I felt a warm moistness between my thighs.

Father pulled the truck over at the overlook and cut the engine off.
"Are you sure you're okay?" He asked.
"Yes, father. I'm fine."
I smiled at him.
"Well, good! He said as he tousled my hair and kissed my cheek, "Can't have nothing happening to my baby."
He laughed as he hopped out of the truck then turned around to help me out.

As I slid across the seat, my white cotton shorts rose on my thighs until my bikini showed beneath them.
I saw him looking down there, but he didn't say anything.

"Well, the morning's still early. Guess we better get started."

We hiked the trail behind Otter Creek, carrying the blanket and all the goodies for our little picnic.
This was the first time that we had planned on staying for a picnic.
I was so happy being able to spend that time with him, as he was often too busy with farm chores to be able to spend too much time with me.
I felt happier than I had ever felt before.

As I walked behind him, I watched him. I loved the look of his body in his jeans and flannel t-shirt. I would often borrow his shirts to sleep in; and when I did, I always dreamed that father was with me in bed, wrapping his arms tightly about me and kissing me on the forehead like he always did when I was younger.
How I longed for those times again.

"Well, looks like we're here, punkin." he said, as he put the picnic basket on the ground.
He grabbed the blanket out of my hands; and tossing it to the air, spread it out on the ground.
He put the picnic basket on one corner of the blanket and began to take out the food and drinks.

"Sit down baby," he said. "I'm starvin'. How about you?" He asked.

I shook my head 'yes," and helped him take the food out of the basket.

It was such a beautiful morning; and although the sun was already hanging high in the sky, a nice cool breeze blew so that it wasn't so hot.

"Do you mind if I take my shorts and shirt off so that I can get a little sun?" I asked.

"Not at all, punkin. You do whatever makes you happy." he said.

I pulled my t-shirt overhead to take it off; but as I did, it got hung under my bikini top and pulled it up, exposing my breasts.
I watched my father, as he blushed, and quietly smiled but didn't say anything.

"Sorry, daddy." I said.

"It's okay, punkin. Don't worry about it." he replied.

I then stood up to take off my shorts.
As I did so, I turned away from dad, not realizing that he was watching me.
His gaze resting on my ass and how my bikini bathing suit covered my skin.
He nervously glanced down as I turned around.

"I'm hungry!" I said as I smiled at father.
"Well, dig in." He said. He handed me a paper plate with chicken and a roll, potato salad and cole slaw on it.

I lay down on the blanket, facing my father; and resting my head on one hand, I ate as I talked to him.
A couple of times, I caught him glancing at my cleavage area.
Although I was only a size 34-B, I was very well-proportioned for my 5'2" frame, with an hourglass shape that often caught guys by surprise. I guess my father was no exception.

"I'm thirsty, dad. Can you pass me a soda?" I asked.

"Sure, hon! Wouldn't you rather have a glass of wine though?" he asked me.

I kind of stammered because I never thought ... well, I never imagined that my father would ever let me drink alcohol. "S-u-ure." I said.

He leaned over to hand me the glass; and as he did, my hand seemed to burn from his touch.
We looked at one another, and electricity seemed to spark between us.
I don't know what it was, but there was a definite chemistry in the air.

He picked up his glass and said "Cheers!" I clinked my glass against his and looked at him nervously as I began to drink the wine.
It had a bittersweet taste to me, and I choked a little at first.

"Drink it slowly," he said. "It takes some getting used to."

When my glass was empty, he filled it up again. After drinking three glasses of wine with father, I felt really tired.
The sun rays were beating down against my body, and I felt so drowsy.

"I need to take a nap. I'm so tired." I said.

"Well, just lie down punkin." "Here," he said, as he patted the blanket beside him.
I crawled on my hands and knees to him, and curled up beside him as he put his arms around me.
Although I was too tired to pay it much mind, it occurred to me that father was holding me particularly close; and I could feel something hard poking me from behind.

I drifted as I lay there in his arms; and before I knew it, I was sound asleep.
I was lulled by the sound of his breathing in my ear, the warmth of his body penetrating mine, and the solace of his arms about me.

I don't really know what awoke me; but as I drifted in a half-dream state, I could feel my father's hands massaging my body.
He was running his hands up and down my thigh, encircling my breasts and caressing me, and he was thrusting his body against mine.

I moaned and turned around into his chest, and I breathed in the scent of him. I heard him say, "O! Punkin! I love you," and then, his lips pressed down upon mine.
His hands were in my hair, pulling me close, sucking my breath into him as his tongue dancing around mine. He was so lascivious, so desirous. I could only respond to him as my body ached and throbbed, burned and hungered for his touch.

As he kissed me, he pressed into me; and I could feel his hardness between my legs.
He rolled over on top of me; and as his weight pressed me into the ground, I felt his hands lifting the top away from my breasts.

The cool morning air caressed me, and I arched my back as his lips came down upon my nipple, sucking it into his mouth.
His tongue circled round and round the tip until it was wet. When he pulled away, the wind blew upon it, making it even harder.

With his leg between my thighs, he slowly put his hand into my panties and rubbed my clit.
I nearly lost it then. No one had ever touched me there before.
I was so wet that his fingers just seemed to slide across my skin. He moaned into my ear, "Oh yeah, baby!" As his finger pushed up inside of me.

I moaned in ecstasy as he proceeded to fuck his finger in and out of me, slowly at first and then faster.
He increased the tempo as he fucked me with one finger and then two.
My hips rose and fell in sync with the rhythm of his hand; and just when I felt as though I were going to explode, he stopped.

"I want to eat you," he said as he slowly removed my panties with one hand.
He opened my thighs wide and then began to lick my clit.
He sucked it into his mouth, licking me up and down, and thrusting his tongue deep inside of me.
With his nose buried in my flesh, he fucked me with his tongue. In and out, in and out, as my hips rose up and down, up and down.
God! I thought I was going to die.

Standing up, he took his clothes off; and straddling my face, he stood over top of me.
"Now, I want you to eat me at the same time."
He then lowered himself over my face, placing his hard cock to my lips.
I tasted the tip with my tongue; and before I could grasp what was happening, he thrust himself into my mouth, while his tongue began to fuck my pussy again.

Up and down, he fucked me into the ground, his hard cock in my mouth, his tongue deep inside of my wet pussy.
I tried to lift his hips away from me, but I couldn't.
His hard cock plunged down deep into my throat, as I gagged, almost choking on the fullness.
I couldn't breathe; and at the same time, I felt as if I were going to explode from what he was doing to me down there.

He was fucking me with his tongue in my pussy, while his finger had been rammed up my ass at the same time.
He was pounding in and out of my ass with a fury that begged to be released.
I nearly screamed when he pulled out of me, all three mouths vacated at once.

As he once again lay down upon me, his lips pressed down upon mine with such hunger and ferocity that I couldn't resist him. Using his legs, he spread my thighs wide; and I could feel his throbbing cock at the entrance to my pussy.

"This might hurt a little, but I promise it will feel good." He took his hard cock in hand and guided it to my pussy lips.
I could feel an incredible pressure as he started to push himself inside of me.

God! It was so tight. I thought he was going to split my body in half.
Pulling all the way out, he thrust himself inside of me with one mighty push.
I screamed into the air, as he began to fuck my body into the ground.

"Oh yeah! Oh yeah!" he exclaimed.
"Damn! You're good! You have a nice pussy."

I felt as if I were on a roller-coaster ride.
Up and down, up and down, in and out, in and out, my breath being swept away from me. At the pinnacle of ecstasy, I seemed to lose all control of my body as it spasmed wildly; and I came for the first time in my life.

"Yeah baby! That's it! You're a woman now! You're my little woman." he shouted.

Father continued to fuck me as my orgasm slowly subsided, and then he asked me to turn over onto my knees.

He pushed my face down towards the blanket and pulled my ass higher in the air.
He took his fingers and stuck them into my wet pussy, and I could feel him rubbing the juices up towards my ass. He massaged my asshole with his fingers and then thrust one inside, lubricating it with my own juices.

I held my breath as I felt the hardness of his hot cock against my asshole.

"Are you ready?" he asked me.

"Yes!" I said between a whisper and a sigh, holding my breath in anticipation.

Oh my God!
The feeling was fucking incredible as his cock pushed its length up inside of me.
I felt as though a fist had been shoved up inside of my body, and I thought that I was going to die.

"Just relax punkin," he said, as he began to slowly fuck in and out of me.
Gradually, the pain subsided and was replaced with an incredible pleasure.
I began to fuck my body back against his as he picked up tempo and began to fuck me harder.

He reached up, and grabbing a handful of my hair, pulled my head back towards him.
The resistance of my body in between the fucking and the pulling of my hair sent me over the edge.
I screamed out, "Fuck me! Fuck my ass!" as I fucked back against him, matching his desire with my own.
His slow slide in and out of me increased and became faster, hotter, and heavier.

Father pumped in and out of me, our bodies dripping with sweat in the noonday sun; and we both started to cum together.

"God! Yes!" father exclaimed.
"I'm cumming punkin. I'm fucking cumming!"

"Yes!" I screamed, over and over again.

Father fucked his juices into my tight ass as I fucked him back, and fucked him hard.

I felt a wonderful, warm, and lingering sensation as father's white juices shot up inside of my body.
His body jerked and spasmed wildly, and he collapsed upon my back, the weight of his body forcing me to the ground.

Father lay upon me for a couple of minutes as his heavy breathing subsided.
He lay down upon his back on the blanket and pulled me near. I curled up against his chest, my head over his heart, as we both drifted off to sleep.

That day made me what I am today and still I love the mountains.
Still, I love my father.