Chapter 11

What brought Julie back into the present world was her orgasm ... or to be more nearly correct, the fading strains of orgasmic music that had filled her mind to overflowing. It wasn’t fair. Somehow she knew it was over, at least temporarily, and she didn’t want it to be over. Her mind went to Barbie and Bobby again and she felt better. It didn’t have to be over very long before you could start again.

She was quite conscious when she felt something change in the way his body moved, and heard his apology. She didn’t have the same epiphany her sister did, at his words, but when the bloom of heat blossomed in her belly, she knew, instantly, what it was. Her epiphany, in that moment, was how perfect that felt. She was completely aware of how much her attitude had changed, but it didn’t matter, because now she understood what perfection was. Perfection was having an orgasm like that, and then having your chosen mate fill you with his love.

She heard the muted word, “Fuck!” and recognized Barbie’s voice instantly. She craned her neck at the same time Bob raised his head a bit, in preparation for rolling off of his daughter, and saw Barbie in the open doorway. Her hand was in her shorts, moving busily.

She didn’t care, because suddenly the warm, comforting weight of her lover went away. He rolled and flopped onto his back beside her, panting as if he’d run a four minute mile. Barbie stared at her with wild eyes and Julie imagined herself looking at what Barbie was viewing. All she could think of, though, was Barbie’s compact, curvy body lying naked on the bed, with white Bobby-milk welling out of her puffy, abused-looking pussy lips.

She lifted a hand that felt like it weighed thirty pounds and let it rest on her abdomen. With an effort she pushed and her fingers slid through perfectly normal-feeling pubic hair. When her finger got to her clit she detoured it around the little bud. Let the poor thing rest a while. She had to lower her shoulder to get her fingers to her own pussy lips.

They were slippery, but other than that, they felt completely normal. Wet. There was a lot of wet down there. There was no pain whatsoever, but she brought her hand up to make sure the wet wasn’t blood anyway. Milky white. Just like what Bobby left in Barbie.

A whole series of emotions raced through her like competing horses at that race her daddy had watched on TV. What was it? The Kentucky something or other. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t a race. She had time to think about everything. She spent a few seconds on ‘I’m not a virgin anymore. I thought I already wasn’t, but I was wrong, but now I’m definitely not.’ That was followed by, ‘Don’t care.’ Her hand went to land on her father’s thigh. He was real. All this was real. She’d done it! She’d gotten what she wanted. She was a little fuzzy on how she got to the ‘I definitely want it’ stage, but it didn’t matter. It hadn’t been a mistake. She was glad she’d done it.

No ... she was elated she’d done it.

Suddenly the lethargy she’d felt vanished and she was full of energy. Nothing weighed a lot anymore and she literally bounced up into the air by flexing her hips and shoulders. She was suspended only an inch off the bed, but it was enough that she could twist and land on her side, facing her father. He had a stupid grin on his face. No, it wasn’t a stupid grin. It was a silly one. He was happy.

Tears filled her eyes as she realized he was just as happy about this as she was. That meant more to her than anything she could think of. Another of those pesky epiphanies opened her mind to understanding what all those contestants on the various reality shows meant when they said winning would “mean the world” to them. That silly smile meant the world to her.

She rolled against him and he looked at her.

“You’re crying!” he said, and suddenly the grin was gone.

“It’s good crying,” she sniffled. “Oh, Daddy, I love you so much.”

He moved and put his arm under her.

“How soon can you go again?” she asked his ear.

“Julie, your sister is standing over there masturbating,” he said.

“I know. I don’t care.”

“I warned you about this,” he groaned.

“I know. I don’t care.”

“I could have just gotten you pregnant!” he barked. “And don’t tell me you know and don’t care!”

“I won’t. So ... how soon?”

“What’s happening?” came Bobby’s bass voice. His head appeared behind and beside Barbie’s. He wasn’t stupid. He also wasn’t blind. What he saw dripping down between Julie’s thighs, just below her heart-shaped ass, was something he never tired of seeing oozing out of Barbie’s pussy. “You guys did it!” he said, happily. “Cool!”

Barbie turned and slammed into him.

Ten seconds later they were gone. Julie knew where they were going, and what they’d be doing within a few minutes. She looked back at her father and traced her fingertips through his chest hair.

“Ten minutes?” she guessed, with hope in her voice.

He groaned.

“Fifteen?” She got up on one elbow. “Will it help if I suck it?”

Teenagers tend to jump into the wide spot in the river without thinking. It’s a hot day and the water looks good. Maybe there’s an old rope hanging from a tree, which means this particular swimming hole has been used before. So it will be fine, right? Nothing bad will happen. There’s probably no peril hidden under the water.

Another analogy and we’ll move on. Have you ever heard of a “sea anchor”? Basically, it’s something you drag off the bow or stern of a boat that slows the action of wind and waves, in terms of carrying the boat off in some direction you might not want to go. Usually it’s a sort of parachute that catches water as the boat moves. Just as a parachute on a flier will let him slowly down to earth, a sea anchor slows and steers the rapid and uncontrolled drifting of a boat.

In this case, sex was the pond, and Bob was the sea anchor.

Julie’s previous outlook on things sexual had completely changed, almost as if it had resided in her vagina, and Bob’s penis had forced it out and somewhere else. Her intelligence wasn’t affected, except it was overwhelmed by her urge to feel more of that delicious thing she had so recently tasted.

Bob, having intentionally impregnated his wife on three occasions, was only too aware of where all this sperm-shooting could lead. The problem for him was that he had really loved getting Olivia pregnant. Even when they weren’t actually “trying” for a baby, each and every time he jetted in her, he hoped he was becoming a father. It wasn’t just to be a father, though. It was to be a father of Olivia’s child. He was the quintessential caveman, when it came to being proud that he’d made her belly swell. He loved nothing more than taking her out in public, to eat, or shop or even just for ice cream, because then all the other men saw what he had done, and which they could never even hope to do. Not with Olivia, anyway.

In one sense, on a subliminal level, when a man gets a woman pregnant, he’s proclaiming to the world that she’s his, and that all other men were too slow, or too late to this particular party.

But most of that is unconscious, a product of human evolution that’s been there since man first descended from trees. Maybe even before that.

Bob’s conscious problem was that he loved Julie dearly, and it’s difficult to resist making love to a woman you love, dearly. Even if she’s your daughter, in some cases.

So while Julie’s mind (and pussy) were being blown, Bob was reminded of how wonderful a satisfying, loving, passionate round of sex can be.

This complicated mindset caused him to get up and get dressed after having picked Julie’s cherry, leaving her unhappy in his bed, wanting more. He actually got a lesson plan finished that day, and thought of other things than Julie’s tender nipples in his mouth and her scorching pussy clamped around his prick. But he avoided, sometimes consciously, going to see what Barbie and Bobby were up to, because he was afraid of what he’d find.

And that night, when he went to bed, and Julie came to bed naked, his resistance crumbled and he mounted her again.

She didn’t even say a word. They had all been in the living room, watching a movie together, and when it was over and he said he was going to bed, she waited until she was sure he was in bed. Bobby and Barbie had cuddled during the movie, and as soon as their father disappeared, they started petting. Julie knew that it was possible they’d fuck right there on the couch, but she understood, now, so she didn’t say anything to them.

When she went into her father’s bedroom, having gone braless and commando since losing her virginity, she was naked after removing her shirt and shorts. She watched his eyes, and felt a sexual rush as she saw desire in them. She simply lifted the covers and slid in beside him.

He was naked, too, which she misconstrued as a sign he was both willing and ready. In reality, he’d always slept naked.

But he was, in fact, ready.

She kissed him, gripped his erection, and tugged, gently.

He rolled over on top of her and, as if they’d been married and sleeping together for years, the tip of his prick found her slippery opening almost instantly.

No foreplay was necessary. He slid in slowly, smoothly. She was tight.

Her groan of happiness made him want to spurt, but he had better control than that.

Better control than his son, who was, at that same second, buried in Barbie’s sucking pussy.

And filling it with his virile, youthful sperm.

The slippery slope that was Bob’s ill-advised attempt at sexual education in the home had been slid down, and could not be climbed back up.

Life in the Carpenter family was unalterably changed.

Bob’s next decision was to get the girls on birth control ASAP, before disaster struck.

Normally, an appointment to get a young woman on birth control is a fairly routine kind of thing. What made this appointment memorable to the receptionist of the Crown Point Medical Practice was that the man making it said he needed to have both of his daughters seen for the same thing. He asked for two back to back appointments, and his response to the receptionist’s questions was, “Both girls need to get on the pill.”

The receptionist’s name was Allie Thurston, and she was twenty years old. She had elected not to go to college after high school, and this was the best job she could find. Allie wasn’t married, yet, but she knew why she had gotten on birth control, not that many years in the past. And she’d had Mr. Carpenter in history class. She remembered him as being handsome and nice, with a great smile. She hadn’t even known he had any kids.

She felt a little sorry for Mister Carpenter, if he had two daughters who were becoming sexually active. She remembered how freaked out her own father had been when she came home from a date a little disheveled.

The western world in general, and the United States in particular, have a difficult sort of love/hate relationship with sex. Everybody loves sex, in whatever form. It’s hard to have a bad time having an orgasm. But the moral strictures western society have placed on sex make it a minefield through which every single person has to walk. Everyone knows that every teen will eventually explore becoming sexually active. Anyone who refuses to become sexually active is thought of as different, at best, and maybe even odd. Nuns are a good example. Who understands nuns, who choose to abstain? So teens are expected to want to have sex, but are told not to have sex. Meanwhile, the adults around them seem to be thinking of nothing else. Commerce provides a plethora of things designed to encourage sex. Girls can use makeup and dress sexy and everyone smiles. But let that girl get naked and actually have sex, and the same people get all upset.

When they got the doctor’s office and Bob checked them in, he recognized Allie, who smiled at him sympathetically.

“Hey, Mister Cee,” she said.

“Hi, Allie. It’s been a while.” Bob smiled back. “I have my daughters with me today.”

“I have the files right here,” said Allie. “Have a seat and I’ll get you checked in.”

She looked at the girls who were with her former teacher. They were both cute. Yup, poor Mister Carpenter was in for a few rough years.

It’s what most people would have thought.

Once the girls got their prescriptions, all semblance of normalcy, as compared to most other families in town, vanished. Julie slept in Bob’s bed every night, and Barbie and Bobby usually slept together, unless Bobby snored and Barbie kicked him out. Everybody knew that it took a while for birth control pills to become effective, but nobody had the control to wait a month to have more sex. Bob did get a box of condoms, but neither girl liked them. A condom-encased penis felt like a bigger hairbrush handle, and by this time neither girl was interested in something so mundane and juvenile as hairbrush handles. Both girls would eventually own sex toys, but both would always opt for the real thing over a dildo or vibrator.

Four condoms did get used, but after that, both girls demanded that the penis that entered them was naked.

One might have expected both girls to become pregnant, but that’s not what happened. In fact, there are only a few days during a woman’s cycle when she is truly fertile, and there are many things that prevent fertilization of an available egg. This is why the planet isn’t overrun by humans.

Then again, maybe six and a half billion humans means our planet is already overrun.

That’s an argument for another day. What’s important for the story is, that in this case, neither girl caught before the pills they now took daily became effective.

In essence, in the Carpenter household, there were the equivalent of two newlywed couples.

And there was a lot of sex.

The next school year came. Bobby was a senior, Julie was a junior, and Barbie was a sophomore. To all their friends at school, everything seemed normal, except that none of the Carpenter kids had a boyfriend or girlfriend. They still went out on dates, but only on group dates. Mr. Carpenter seemed normal, too. He taught his classes and seemed just like he’d always been.