I awoke confused; the bed beside me was empty, thank God! But that still didn’t explain the who of it from last night, because I know for damned sure the woman I fucked last night wasn’t my wife, although I’m pretty sure she was family.
‘Start at the beginning, ‘ I thought, let’s go over the events and see just what we can figure out.
Karen and I had been invited to a party at her parents’ house. Well, they call it a house; it’s pretty palatial by my standards with eight bedrooms, plus a separate attached dwelling or granny flat they are sometimes called. Mind you, they needed it; Karen is the oldest of six kids, with two brothers and three sisters to be exact.
Brian and Wendy, her Mum and Dad, are ‘doing well for themselves’ as they will tell anyone who asks, not that they like to brag. I get on very well with them both, despite coming from a ‘challenging’ background. My Dad abandoned my Mum when he got her pregnant and my Mum abandoned me to a drug habit that eventually took her life by the time I was seven. I spent the next ten years in council foster care, constantly being moved in the early days from one place to another as the carers struggled to cope with my attitude as well as my total resistance to being controlled. What none of them noticed was that I was completely and utterly bored as I have a genius level IQ and as a child a very limited tolerance for people who tried to treat me as a child. That was until I was placed in the care of Bill and Emily Sanders.
I pulled my usual bag of tricks on them, asserting my independence, but to my surprise they took it all in their stride and even taught me a trick or two when it came to getting their own way. It was Emily who started me reading some of what are termed the classics and not stupid storybook cartoons or thinking that kids television might just be interesting enough to keep me in one place. Emily managed to turn the key in a lock and suddenly there was an incredible world in front of me. I voraciously read every classic in her collection and started down at the local library, going through anything that took my fancy.
It was Bill and Emily who took on my school and got them to promote me towards a private scholarship at a local public school. Whilst at first I struggled with being amongst ‘toffs’, my academic achievements soon had me amongst a select group being pushed hard towards achieving the highest levels of education. I also met Karen there and, whilst not as bright as I am, she captured my heart and never let it go despite a frequently stormy relationship in which we often split, indulged in a new boyfriend/girlfriend, but always ended up back with each other.
We both took each other’s virginity at age fifteen. Went at it like rabbits for a couple of months before splitting and trying out new territories ... so to speak, before returning to give each other the benefit of our experiences and so on until after Uni when we decided to marry and put aside childish things ... such as other lovers ... I thought.
I first met Karen’s family shortly after we started having sex and although I’m damned sure her mother at least knew what we were up to, she never put any obstacles in our path, even if, ostensibly, we slept in separate rooms.
Karen’s mother and the sisters all could have come out of the same mould, blonde, blue eyed, shapely, same height, same vital statistics, though five different personalities, they may have superficially looked alike, but that’s where it ended as they reacted and acted very differently from each other.
Wendy, the mother, was (normally) cool, calm and very, very organised. She ran the household with all the skill of a military planner and nothing seemed ever to faze her, not even Karen’s over-active (at times) sex drive where we’d often enough go at it as and when we could, with no thought as to who might catch us, which Wendy occasionally did to her initial shock and later amusement. That said she did have her ditzy side and often caused hilarity at family gatherings by saying things out loud that she really ought to have kept to herself.
Jill was the next oldest, married to Neville who looks like a chinless wonder but is in truth a very funny guy to talk to. I know they are trying for a kid, but so far no luck. Jill doesn’t like me, I don’t know why and if Karen does, she’s failed to mention it. We manage OK in groups, but if it’s us two, Jill simply gets up and leaves. Our last invitation to a family get together at Jill’s only had Karen’s name on the invite. Karen said it was an oversight, I have my doubts.
Megan was the next in line, engaged to Tony for what seems like forever, but is only a couple of years if that. Of the three other sisters I like her the best, she’s smart witty and treats me like a real brother. If I hadn’t ended up with Karen, Megan is the one I’d probably go for. Tony I can take or leave, he’s a total nonentity who often enough mistakes sarcasm for humour whilst lacking a sense of humour himself as far as I can tell.
Kirstie (with an ‘ie’) is the youngest, barely eighteen and ready to take on the world. She’s loud, sassy and opinionated, typical anarcho-socialist student type. We like each other, but never discuss politics, mostly because she throws a huff if she thinks I’m mocking her (which I do) by pointing out the several flaws in anarchism as well as Marxist economics. She declares it will be a paradise, I point out it will be a colder version of Somalia. We agree to disagree, though sometimes I suspect she knows the truth and is playing a part to wind up her older brother who’s a Tory councillor, as her school grades are very impressive and she has a grasp on real politics that her brother simply doesn’t.
Adam is the older of the two brothers and is sandwiched between Karen and Jill. He’s the councillor and is so far up his own arse when it comes to party politics, it isn’t funny. He’s married to Fiona and I wonder if Wendy and Brian keep a whole lot of Karen type clones ready to unwrap as Fiona could almost be a twin of the girls. I also suspect she’s the brains of the outfit and I’m also pretty sure she eggs Kirstie on too.
Ben is between Megan and Kirstie, shy, but a nice young man once you get to know him, his girlfriend Donna (another Karen clone) is with him. Wendy totally embarrassed him by asking if they wanted to share a bed. It was Donna who said yes, much to his shock and gratification.
So there we are, one house, seven women, one of them my wife, and another of them walking around with a little bit of me nestling inside of them, yet I hadn’t a clue as to which one ... or why come to that.
At this point I decided that mulling over events wasn’t getting me out of needing to go to the loo and I was also hungry, though fortunately not hung over. Once my ablutions were out of the way I headed downstairs quietly as the house was still in silence. In the kitchen I found a tired if cheerful Wendy loading the dishwasher, dressed in a pink fluffy robe complete with a serious case of bed head.
“Morning, Peter. Your wife is asleep on the couch where she passed out last night,” she chuckled if slightly disapprovingly.
“I did offer to carry her up, but Brian said not to disturb her, after the power went out” I replied.
“I know, I suspect he’s the one who put the moustache on her with marker pen too,” Wendy giggled.
“I’ll catch hell for that,” I chuckled.
“Serves her right for not beating a retreat when she over indulged,” Wendy replied.
“She rarely does except, when with family,” I said defensively.
“Peter, you don’t have to defend her, she’s a good girl and you keep her on the straight and narrow,” Wendy chuckled. “I dread to think how she’d have ended up without you in her life; she was quite the wild child.”
“Well, it’s been a bumpy ride at times for both of us,” I reminisced with a smile.
“Yes, but it was obvious you were made for each other. After all you always got back together, a lot of us admire you for that,” she said with a smile as I boiled the kettle. “Oh and yes please,” she added pointing towards the coffee tin.
“Yes, Mum,” I chuckled as I poured the coffees.
“Call me Wendy!” she admonished as our running name joke was started again.
“Yes, Mum,” I replied and dodged into the living room to see how Karen was doing.
She was pretty much in the same position I’d put her into after she fell asleep after drinking a little too much at the end of a long journey and heavy meal. She did look quite adorable even with the bright green moustache some kind soul had adorned her with in jest.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” I said gently when her eyes flickered open.
“Oh fuck, my head!” she moaned.
Wendy came through with water and painkillers and handed them over silently, though her eyes were twinkling in mirth. Karen sat up, wobbled slightly and then knocked the pills back with a sigh.
“Sorry, hun,” she apologised somewhat sheepishly.
“It’s OK, but you were got at while you were asleep,” I chuckled.
“Oh no!” she moaned as Wendy handed her a small vanity mirror. “Dad!”
“Could have been worse,” I chuckled.
“True, I still have all my clothes on so he didn’t decorate my bum cheeks,” Karen moaned.
“He has?” I asked.
“She was seven and fell asleep after school,” Wendy chuckled.
“Never did that again ... well until now,” Karen sighed.
“Missed you last night,” I said.
.... There is more of this story ...