Page 6 of Her Honey Pot (Sweet Treats 3)

I squint at him.

“But how do the girls benefit?”

My dad takes a deep breath.

“Sometimes, Marni, the first time isn’t easy for a woman. She’s tight, small, and needs to be stretched out. She needs a real man to look out for her, who cares about her, and isn’t just a stranger looking for a quick fix. That’s what the dads do. Maybe we’re only in town for a night, but we treat one another’s daughters with real respect and caring. We touch her in ways that make her feel good, and make sure she gets the proper amount of aftercare afterwards. Also, there’s a string of us. If I’m only in town for a night, the next guy is updated about her status, and he makes sure to take care of her like a good father would.”

I stare at my dad, still not believing my ears. This is so crazy and dirty, and my dad is a member of it.

“Nothing you said makes sense,” I proclaim. “In a way it does, but do you hear yourself? How can passing a girl off to another man be the equivalent of ‘taking care of her’? How can a one-night stand be good for young, naïve girls?”

My dad nods.

“I know, and the group has considered these objections in the past. There are definitely hazards to the way we conduct our relationships, but we’ve decided that the pros outweigh the cons. We want our daughters to be cared for. We want them to meet good men, and what better men than men we’ve chosen for them? Again, we vet our members very carefully, so it’s not the guys who are scraping the bottom of the barrel. Only the best of the best are granted membership.”

I shake my head.

“Yeah, but if this is what you think is best for the girls, then why isn’t it good for me? Like you surmised, I’m inexperienced. I could use the touch of a good man. Why not one of your friends, like you’ve been saying?”

Brent gets a pained look in his eye.

“Marni, get real,” he says sharply. “I’m looking out for you. This isn’t for a ditz who’s going to startle at a man’s touch. This is only for girls who are ready, and who can handle it.”

I’m offended now.

“Did you just call me a ditz? For your information, I’ve made honor roll every semester in high school, bar none. So who’s the ditz?”

My dad sighs heavily.

“Seriously Marni, sometimes it’s so difficult to have a conversation with you. Are you purposefully twisting my words? I’m not saying you’re a ditz. I’m just saying that you’re not the right type. You’re a bookworm. You like to read rags to riches stories about modern day Cinderellas rescued by handsome princes. This isn’t that. Dads and Daughters is very real, and none of it is fantasy. You’re not a fit.”

But the contrary part of me is pissed now.

“I am a fit,” I proclaim. “I want in.”

Of course, I’m not really sure that I want in. This swingers set up is so filthy, and I’m still shocked to find out about it. I’m even more shocked that my dad is a member. How many girls has he slept with? Does he keep in touch with any of these girls? What do they look like?

But Brent merely shakes his head again, and this time his expression is resolute.

“No, Marni. You’re not going to be a member of Dads and Daughters. I’ll give up my own membership if I have to, in order to keep you out of it. I don’t want you hurt, and that’s that.”

I’m about to protest, but my dad gets up, rising to a towering height. He glowers at me, his blue eyes almost glowing.

“You’re not going to be a part of Dads and Daughters, Marni. It’d be better, and healthier, if you just forgot everything you learned, and put it out of your mind.”

With that, he stalks off, his long legs carrying him into the bedroom. But I stay in the living room, my head still spinning. Holy shit! What a dirty group! Maybe my dad’s right, and I’m not your typical inductee into Dads and Daughters. But I want to find out more, and there’s no way he can stop me.

3

Marni

The next day, Jessica accosts me in the hallway of our high school.

“Oh my god,” she cries with tears in her eyes. “Your dad is going to drop out of Dads and Daughters! He said he had to do it because of youuuuu! Oh my god!”

Shushing Jess, I pull her into a deserted classroom and shut the door firmly. It’s dim inside, and I don’t bother to turn on the lights.

“Jess, shhh! We’re at school. People can hear you,” I hiss.

But my friend doesn’t care, and her blonde curls bobble as she sobs.

---