My orgasm had drenched me and the seat as my body jerked wildly, which left me unable to breathe. As I slowly got my breathing back, I closed my eyes ...aphazardly. My daddy was speaking softly through the phone to me. "Aw, did my sweet baby girl come for her daddy?" he cooed to me. I wasn't sure if he had orgasmed with me, but at the moment I couldn't care less; I was too winded to think about him getting off. I couldn't even give some tort quip at calling me a baby. He knew that I would cry. “The history of art is filled with examples of artists using lovers as models. But fathers using daughters, well…,” he hesitated. I could see the artist intrigued by the idea; the father troubled by its portent.“Dad, I’m an adult. I have free will. I’m going to be an artist myself. I want to do this. If it was anyone else, I know you’d say ‘yes.’ But it’s me, just me; a daughter giving her father a present of love.”I saw his face soften. Then he smiled and said ‘okay.’“But, Jana, I want you to. More

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