Chapter 8

In the event, we all had a marvelous time. First of all, Sheila surprised Mom when she asked for a picnic dinner. When Mom’s response was to cock her head quizzically, Sheila explained, “You know ... Hamburgers, hot dogs, potato salad, cole slaw ... All that good stuff?”

Again Mom demonstrated the perspicacity for which she as famous. “You’ve never had a hamburger, have you? Or any of that stuff.”

Sheila just shook her head while looking embarrassed.

“Well...” Mom said stretching out the word, “it will be an awful lot of work ... I mean...” Then she glared at Sheila and continued, “It could take as long as five minutes, daughter Sheila, but for you ... But I do hope you recognize the sacrifice I’ll be making.”

“You’re strong, Mom,” Sheila retorted. “I’m sure you’ll make it.”

It sounds funny, I suppose, but the fact was that picnic was like no other. Indeed, there were hamburgers and hot dogs, but also an incredible array of other picnic foods including — would you believe? — glacéed breast of pheasant? It’s true.

What’s more, Mom really did it up brown! We cooked the hamburgers and hot dogs on the gas grill in the kitchen (yeah, we have one of those, too), but the rest of the meal came from a huge picnic hamper that Mom had on the floor beside her and from which this endless array of goodies appeared. Dad even entered into the spirit of the evening by serving a Beaujolais Nouveau that had just been flown in that day from France!

When it was all over, we adjourned to the family room. As our parents were taking their seats on the sofa, Mom snapped her fingers and muttered, “Damn!”

Sheila, knowing we were being teased, nevertheless asked, “And what was that ‘damn’ about?”

“You were supposed to sing for your supper!” Mom wailed. “But I’ve ruined it by serving dinner first! Now you two will probably just go to sleep on us.”

While this exchange was taking place, Sheila had been warming up with her guitar. We started by singing our signature song, “Shenandoah”. It was one we both loved and, I guess, we really did it pretty well.

While we were singing, I was watching our parents. First of all, they had moved even closer together on the sofa. Mom had her head resting on Dad’s shoulder with her eyes closed. Dad began fondling her and she quickly shed her top so he could fondle her bare breasts. But all this time it was apparent that both were listening intently.

Our last song was “America the Beautiful.” By this time we were both warmed up and really into it. I guess we really opened up on it and we sounded good. When we finished I was surprised to see tears streaming down Mom’s face and there were unmistakable signs of wetness in Dad’s eyes, too.

When the last note died, Sheila and I just knelt there on the floor waiting. Finally Dad spoke up. I guess he had been waiting to give Mom the first word, but decided she wasn’t yet in any shape to coherently say anything.

“That was the most beautiful singing I’ve ever heard in my life!” he exclaimed. “You two are utterly magnificent.” Then he added, “Is there any chance for an encore?”

Sheila and I exchanged looks and then she knelt up straight and began, “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord...”

By the time we were finishing, we were on our feet to let out the full power of our voices. “As He died to make men holy / Let us fight to set men free! / And God is marching on! / Glory, glory, hallelujah! / Glory, glory, hallelujah! / Glory, glory, hallelujah! / And God is marching on!”

By this time Mom was really weeping. But through her tears she managed to say, “That was utterly incredible! It’s not just your singing, it’s your emotion. You two really seem to know what that song means. I’m just overwhelmed!”

Dad just nodded and left for the kitchen, returning with four bottles of Sam Adams. By this time he and Mom were both bare to the waist. He gave beers to Sheila and me, then sat down again beside Mom. As soon as he did he placed his hand, still cold from the beer, on her bare breast.

The only thing that happened was that her eyes widened for an instant. Then she snuggled closer and said, “Squeeze it please, darling?”

When he did, her only response was a sound very close to a purr. Then she said, “Darling, I think it’s time to introduce our older daughter to some of the delights of sex. She’s had some experience in that direction, but it’s been all bad. What do you think?”

Before Dad could respond, though, she had seen Sheila’s eyes widen in fear. “Honey,” she said, “don’t worry! Your virginity will still be intact.” Then she shook her head, grimaced, and added, “Why you want to maintain it is beyond me, but it’s your choice. All I can tell you is that when Jack finally took mine it was a real pain in the cunt ... Of course I was 35 years old at the time, so it had probably hardened to the consistency of concrete by then...”

“If Sheila’s willing, I would be utterly delighted,” Dad finally said. Then to Sheila he added, “There’s one house rule, sweetie. When we’re making love, we’re not Mom and Dad. After all, that would be incest, and we couldn’t have that. So we’re Kate and Jack. Okay? Just so you know, honey, what we would like to do is to eat your luscious cunt. Would you mind very much?”

With her virginity no longer threatened, Sheila beamed. “I would love it!” she exclaimed. Then she added thoughtfully, “You know, that never happened until Sam did me. Before that I had eaten dozens of cunts and given countless blow jobs to men, but all my cunt was there for was to be whipped and tortured in every imaginable way. What my owner loved to do most was to whip my lower belly, trying to get the spot where that contrivance was.”

She paused and shuddered, remembering, then continued softly, “He hit it a couple of times, too. Each time it felt like I had been knifed from the inside. I really screamed in pain! He loved it.”

Dad held out his arms and Sheila went to him where he was sitting on the sofa. At the same time, Mom got off the sofa and went down on her knees.