Chapter 4

“Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake.”
― Napoleon Bonaparte

“Keep in mind that people change, but the past doesn’t.”
― Becca Fitzpatrick, Hush, Hush

“Where there is love, there is often also hate. They can exist side by side.”
― Cassandra Clare, City of Bones

When I got home, I found six messages waiting for me on my email, of all things. What could they ever want from me? Who were they? I also found three notifications on my Facebook, two Skype attempts, and two more FaceTime attempts. What happened while I was eating breakfast and driving the rest of the way home? There was also an attempt to get me to sign up on WhatsApp, three SMS text messages on my phone that I didn’t see before, and two missed calls on my phone. I must have had my phone on vibrate or something and not felt the buzz.

Who was trying to speak to me and why? I checked my e-mail, and the first one was from Angel. She simply told me, “Relax, Daddy, no one is going to blab! Janine gave me her only copy of the recording. I deleted it. I do want more, though. A lot more. Sorry, but the floodgates are open. My forbidden passion for Daddy has broken free.”

Angel added two emojis to that both, one a heart, the other a kiss.

The second was also from Angel, “Oh, sorry, forgot to mention that I showed the recording to Becca and Lauren. They know that you and I ... did what we did, but nothing else. I explained that you and I were a little ... sauced from an unexpected dose of what turned out to be some kind of sedative. I think that it was a bit stronger than Janine believed, either, as witnessed by the fact that she took some herself. She apparently didn’t know that we were recorded, either, for some reason. If she had been more lucid, that would have been rape on her part.”

The third one was Janine, “Hey, Mr. March ... or should I call you Simon. I hope that you don’t look on me with disgust. I really didn’t know that there was a type of sedative in there, or I wouldn’t have drunk it. Andy left it there. Who knows why. I’ve yet to get a clear answer out of him, but I can’t really take this to any kind of authorities. We’d all possibly get into trouble. Can we keep this somewhat under wraps? By the way, I don’t remember the act, but the recording tells me that I really enjoyed it. Oh, and Angel missed a seventeen second part at the end where she sat on your face and you rimmed her. You didn’t seem to mind at all. Nor did she.”

I did my best not to feel the boner that almost immediately sprang into action at the thought of devouring my own daughter’s ass. What the hell? Why was I suddenly thinking lustful thoughts of my own flesh and blood? Well, the floodgates were indeed open, as Angel observed. On both ends, in fact. I was also unsure how Janine would treat me in the future, and more to the point, whether or not she was knocked up by our bareback encounter. Well, Angel did some kind of cleaning up business, but there were no guarantees about what tadpoles might have gone on ahead of that. What would things be like if I impregnated her college roommate?

While thinking about that, I looked into the fourth e-mail. It was from Becca. It was short and sweet, very much to the point. “We need to talk, Daddy. It’s not fair to treat one daughter so well and the other two not as nice, is it?” There were three kisses and two hearts after that message.

Oh, dear, I thought, I accidentally do a little fellatio and analingus with one daughter, and now two of them want more of that? Did Angel know about the analingus part yet? If not, what would she say about that?

I opened the fifth e-mail, which predictably was from Lauren, “Oooh, Daddy, nice and raunchy! I asked Angel if there was anything else in that recording, and she went back to Janine to confirm. Evidently, there’s a seventeen second bit of you rimming my big sister. Oh, and Becca has seen that one, too, now. Trust me, Daddy ... we need to talk.”

I definitely didn’t know what to do now. What did they want from me ... more incest, only conscious and aware. If that thought horrified me, though, why was my cock so damn hard right now? What could I expect next? What did I want to have happen next, for that matter? Where did Janine fit into this? Where did Maddie? Where did Genevieve? Where did Stacey or Lizzie? Where did Andy, for that matter? I really needed to wrap my head around things.

The sixth e-mail came from Angel, who told me, “Sorry, Daddy ... Mom accidentally saw the rimming part, not the rest. I explained to her that we were both blacked out and I also warned her that if she said a thing about this, I could go to jail, too. That would ruin my future as well. Not to mention that Janine would have to testify that she gave us the drinks, and so if we got off, she’d go to jail and maybe Andy as well. Don’t ask where Mom saw it ... it was on Lauren’s email after she wanted to see more.”

“Is my face visible in that clip?” I wrote back in a text message for Lauren, whom I now found had sent me one of the SMS message ... which consisted of the clip of me rimming Angel.

“Look for yourself, Daddy,” my youngest daughter urged me.

Nope, I realized. Not a single trace of my face. Only certain things about the clip would give me away to my ex. It wasn’t something that would hold up in court, not unless the rest could then be produced or witnesses brought forward. If Ashley wanted to use this to destroy me, she’d have to try harder than that.

The next SMS message was from Janine, who told me, “Okay, so next time, maybe not so much with the drugs, right? I want to remember our next tryst. Next visit, I mean. Don’t worry. Angel will give us a moment of privacy.”

The last one was from Angel, “Sorry, Daddy, but I had to promise Janine that she’d get more action if she agreed to ... look the other way. I hate to commit or volunteer you without your consent, but I was just trying to cover our asses.”

The WhatsApp attempts were apparently from Stacey and Lizzie, for whatever reason. The first missed call was from Janine, the second from Ashley. Oh, great, I thought, my ex-wife just had to call me about this whole mess. What did she have in mind? I was in a mischievous mood, so I went ahead and signed up for WhatsApp. Immediately, I was contacted, not only by Stacey and Lizzie, but by Janine, by Andy, then by Angel, Becca, and Lauren. What the actual fuck? Were they all on WhatsApp now? What was this ... Europe or something?

After approving all of these requests, I checked out the FaceTime and Skype attempts. They were all from Ashley. What was that about? Then I got a new call from an unrecognized number. I answered it, feeling a bit curious by now. It was a very soft, feminine voice, girlish in its playful attitude.

“Hey, this is ... Maddie. You know, from the cafe. Would it be too forward for me to go ahead and ask you out or something? I don’t have a lot of money to spare, but since I’m asking you out, I’d pay. Just nowhere pricey, please. Maybe a Denny’s or something,” the ginger asked me.

“Denny’s is fine. Maybe tonight, if you can make it. Text me your address and then we can see about it, okay? Evidently, it’s now silver fox hunting season, is it?” I teased her now.

“I would say so, sir. Or Mr. March. Or whatever you want me to call you. Just call me Maddie, please. Not Madeline. Or Grace. Ugh. Certainly not ‘Miss O’Donnell.’ That’s just way too formal, especially since I want to separate you from your boxers. You do wear boxers like a man, not briefs like a boy, right?” the redheaded waitress encouraged my lust as she texted me her address now.

“Yes, and being a man, I’m still going to pay. Because I’m too old and set in my ways to get used to going Dutch, even if I hate the entitled attitude of many ladies of all ages. I usually got around this by avoiding the dating scene. It looks as if I’ll have another strategy to figure out soon,” I told her, “I’ll pick you up, too.”

That was when I got a fresh Skype attempt. This time, feeling a bit more patient than I was before I was hit on by the crimson cutie at the cafe. I put the Skype on and saw something that really struck me. Ashley stood in only her sports bra and yoga pants, even as Brian came up behind and did as she instructed, removing her sports bra first. She then let her nipples go free, standing topless while her son slid her yoga pants down to her ankles. She was barefoot, and now she was clad only in her lace thong. Then she pushed Brian down to her backside and had him pull the thong down with his teeth.

I could tell that it was Brian, of course, in that lighting, and that he was both aroused and confused by his mother’s demands. Once that was done, she yanked his pajama bottoms down and lowered his briefs to his knees before she started sucking his dick in front of her audience, namely me. He was clearly a bit stunned, especially to be watched as his own mother began giving him a serious blowjob. He was even more astonished as she took the sixty-nine position with him, letting him taste her holes and her taint while she inhaled him.

She looked right at the camera and began blowing kisses at it before she started moaning in pleasure from her son’s prick in her mouth while he ate her out. When he exploded in her mouth unexpectedly, she gagged and swallowed in spite of herself, not knowing what else to do. Then she rushed to the bathroom, still naked, her son following her in a state of panic. Had they rehearsed this or not? Was this meant to make me feel jealousy or what?

I just knew that, as I automatically recorded all Skype calls, there would now be more legal evidence of Ashley and Brian than there ever was of me committing incest. Ashley just handed me some leverage, whether she knew it or not, probably out of jealousy or spite. Anything that she thought that she had on me ... that was tame compared to this. Since I was still in the habit of viewing her as an adversary, due to our court battles, it didn’t even occur to me to think of anything beyond the power it gave me over her, my ex.

For someone as supposedly smart as Ashley, she had played this round or game or whatever stupidly, probably reacting out of jealousy mixed with envy or disgust or false moral outrage. Clearly, what she resented was that she didn’t have a man under her thumb ... or did she? Maybe it was that she knew that I was that desirable to ladies at my age ... and her own sex appeal was a bit more niche. She was certainly in MILF/cougar territory, but that at least in some circles was considered a fetish or kink. Sure, it was popular, but she knew that her dating options were lower than they used to be. Well, this might make her famous, or infamous, but it would probably be bad for her legal welfare.

When I hung up and walked away from the screen, she sent me another request on FaceTime. I answered that and she laughed despite obvious awkwardness over the sex tape that she just sent to me. Her face was flushed and I noticed that she was still nude. I wasn’t sure if she threw up her son’s jizz or not, but the way that he appeared behind her made it clear that she had some kind of hold on him. Then she pulled him into a deep tongue kiss and I recorded that as well, of course.

“Two can play that game, Simon, as you can see. You want to diddle our daughters? I can make sweet love to my son. You like incest ... fair enough ... so do I. I’ve probably been reading the same writers online as you, well, maybe not all of the same. Now we both have our own dark secrets of taboo or forbidden love affairs. By the way, did Janine’s tight gash make up for her smaller bust? I heard that you went bareback in her ... I hope that there’s no baby from that. It could get awkward if there is,” Ashley smiled triumphantly, as if she won some unexpected victory over me.

That was when it hit me ... Ashley wanted to make me jealous ... maybe that was projection and she actually was jealous herself? Why else would she get all bothered by the thought of sweet Janine’s “tight gash,” as she put it? Why would she compare what she thought was Janine’s best trait with her own ... her breasts? Well, admittedly, Ashley was somewhat ... busty, had been for years. Why would Ashley still feel jealous after all of these years, anyway? She didn’t still hold any kind of torch for me after all of these years, she who cheated on me?

“Nice to hear from you, too, Ash,” I told her abruptly and dismissively as I hung up.

She tried to get me back on there, but I wasn’t interested. I wasn’t sure if this was just a single, unrepeated instance meant to get under my skin or not, but I knew that Ashley risked a lot more by her actions than I had by what happened accidentally last night. I knew that there was legal exposure. I knew that, if she indeed did this just to fuck with me, her son might feel manipulated, deceived, exploited, or whatever. I personally believed that the words “exploitation” and “objectification” represented something inevitable and inescapable as part of life and human relations. Even so, people could feel that way, or could at least feel manipulated and deceived, and that included Brian Scott, the only son of my ex-wife, Ashley Scott.

That was when I heard a knock at the door. I opened it out of sheer curiosity, and to my shock, all three of my daughters burst through the door. Wait, how did they get here, and how did they get here that fast? Did they Uber or something? Did they have the funds for that? Well, pooling them, they probably would, and they might have counted on me for the return trip. I naturally hugged and kissed all three of them just before one of them answered the next attempt by Ashley to contact me.

“Oh, hi, Mom,” Angel told her mother, who turned pale as she realized that she stood naked with her son in front of his sisters, “hi, Brian. How’s sex with Mom? How does Brian compare to Daddy, Mom? In bed, I mean. Do you enjoy incest?”

“Angel ... I ... I ... um,” Mom stammered before blurting, “you did it first, you with your father!”

“You cheated first and made Brian. I guess that gets Daddy off the hook for his own affairs,” Angel retorted without either confirming or denying her mother’s accusations.

“Um ... oh, look ... I just wanted your father to see how ... sickening and wrong it was ... the incest. That was all. Brian was only too happy to help me illustrate my point, good boy that he is,” Ashley got visibly flustered, of course, defending her actions to her daughter.

“So, by that logic, Daddy was just showing you how bad adultery is and letting you feel his pain, to force you to feel empathy and understand why your infidelity hurt him so much. Or maybe you just had it coming ... and it was just revenge. Nice little bit of justification there. Nice little fig leaf to cover your ass, Mom,” Angel replied.

“It doesn’t look that covered to me,” Becca chimed in, making all of us burst into laughter.

“Yes, and I’m sure that the teenage boy living with his mother isn’t at all motivated by Oedipal lusts or anything of the sort. It was all an altruistic part in an act to drive home a point by his mother, that was all. Getting his mother to take his oral cherry had nothing to do with it. You swallowed, too!” I chuckled now.