Chapter 5

Julie was too agitated to stay still, lying on her bed. Bobby and Barbie were sucking face again, making out like they were boyfriend and girlfriend. Barbie’s hands kept running all over his big back and it looked like he was crushing her, still lying on top of her ... probably with his penis still in her. In her imagination it just kept shooting a stream of milky looking stuff, as if a tiny water hose had been turned on. Obviously Barbie didn’t care that that milk would fill up her womb and then swell her entire belly, until she waddled when she walked. For just a few seconds Julie’s mind, actually much more fertile than Barbie’s womb, at that particular moment, imagined Bobby’s body slowly rising as Barbie’s abdomen pushed him upwards until the only place they were touching were where the skin over their stomachs met.

She shook her head and got up. She left the room, a little miffed because neither of her siblings asked where she was going. They didn’t care. They were too busy making a baby!

She knew her father was asleep, so she went to the living room and flipped on the TV, putting the sound on 8, which she could only hear because it was so silent in the house.

After pulling up the guide and reviewing it, she decided nothing was on. In a short moment of quite adult reflection, she examined that oft-used phrase: “Nothing’s on.” That wasn’t true at all. There were ninety channels of programs “on” at the moment. They were all just uninteresting drivel. Her mind moved on to the assumption that somebody, somewhere had to be watching each of those 90 uninteresting programs. Not only ‘somebody’, in fact, but a lot of somebodies. They wouldn’t keep something on the air unless people were watching it ... right? Julie had never been very philosophical in her outlook, but now she sat in Daddy’s recliner and thought about all the people who made those stupid shows that nobody/somebody watched. People got up every day and went to work to produce the shows, and act in them, or at least appear on screen in them. There were cameramen and script people and wardrobe people and that whole insane list of people in the credits that went on and on after a show was over. Whole families’ livelihoods depended on making a show that sold jewelry one minute, and emergency home generators the next. Every stupid soap opera and kids’ show created income that put food on people’s tables and clothes on their backs. And none of it was worth watching. At least not at midnight, after you put your own father’s penis in your mouth, and then watched your big brother breed the crap out of your little sister.

Now there was a show people would watch: How To Get Your Sister Pregnant, Starring Bobby and Barbie Carpenter, narrated by Julie Carpenter, produced by Bob Carpenter. No wardrobe credits necessary because all actors will be naked.

No wonder people watched so much porn. Why spend your money on a genuine, manmade, faux turquoise necklace, when you could watch some guy boffing some woman? And the acting was just as bad as in the soaps!

Julie thought about trying Netflix, but just clicked the TV off. She already knew she wasn’t in the mood to watch a movie.

She lay back in the recliner and thought back to their date. Danny Caldwell was cute. He was on the basketball team, and tall, though he didn’t play all that much in actual games. Still, it had been nice to be asked out by a popular boy. And he hadn’t minded that Bobby would be there, or that the “little kids” would be along, too. Danny had, in fact, been pretty interested in Barbie, there at the end.

All four kids had watched Bobby and Sheryl, outside the car, as things got interesting. It had been Danny, who said, “That looks like fun,” and turned Julie away from the car window to mimic what Bobby and Sheryl were doing. Nathan had said, “Yeah,” and done the same thing with Barbie. And it had been fun, kissing and Frenching and repeatedly brushing his hands away, knowing he’d try again. She also kept glancing out the window as things heated up on the grass.

Nathan’s whispered “C’mon, Barbie, let me see them. They’re doing it,” had alerted Julie and she’d pulled her face away from Danny’s to “check on” her sister. Instead, she’d seen Sheryl, through the window, taking her shirt off and, while she was distracted, Danny had grabbed both of her breasts and squeezed them deliciously. When Sheryl’s hands pulled Bobby’s face against her now topless upper torso, Barbie moaned and Julie looked to see Nathan had pushed up her shirt and bra and was mauling her fifteen-year-old breasts. It was then that Danny pushed his hand into the waistband of her cargo shorts and actually got his middle finger on her clit. While she was trying to process all this, the side door came open and the light went on and Bobby was yelling and everything went to shit.

It had been chaotic and crazy and scary. She hadn’t been actually worried, not in the sense that she was afraid Danny might rape her or anything. She hadn’t been worried for Barbie, either. Things had just gotten weird. Now, sitting in this recliner, where she’d sat on Daddy’s lap and cried and then, somehow taken her bra off to show him her bare breasts, it seemed the weirdness had followed them into the house. Except it hadn’t felt weird. Not in front of Daddy. And it hadn’t even been all that weird when they all got naked in Daddy’s bedroom. She knew things had gotten out of control, both in the car and back at home. So why did it feel like out of control in the car was a bad thing, but out of control at home wasn’t?

Suddenly tired, Julie got out of the chair and padded back to her room.

Bobby and Barbie were doing it again. This time he was going fast and the bed was bouncing, making noise. Barbie was making noise, too.

Disgusted, Julie closed the door. She wasn’t going to sleep on the couch. It would be lumpy and cold.

So she went and climbed in bed with her sleeping daddy.

Bob’s hangover made itself known the minute he opened his eyes. He groaned. Getting up was out of the question. Wait. What day was it? His brain labored to determine it was Saturday by using the thought process that the kids had gone on a date the night before.

Sudden horrifying and clearly pornographic images filled his mind. Julie’s big, brown eyes, stared up at him from his nest of brown pubes, her mouth full of his cock. The rest of it crashed into him at the exact same time as he realized there was an arm draped over his waist. It was a feminine arm. Pain assailed him as he remembered Olivia was gone. That was short-lived, though. He’d never get over it, but it was bearable, now that years had passed.

He was lying on his side, and she was spooned against him from behind. He tried to roll over to see who it was without disturbing her. His brain rebelled and he groaned again.

“Daddy?” came Julie’s voice. “Are you okay?”

Fuck. He’d slept with her. He’d molested her and probably raped her. ‘No,’ his fuzzy brain replied. ‘If you’d raped her, you’d be in jail, and this isn’t jail.’

“Daddy?” Now her hand moved, to slide up his chest and pull. She made room for him and he rolled, heavily, to land on his back. He looked at her to find she had pushed up with one arm, lifting her torso off the bed. Her hair hung down but didn’t cover full breasts with pink nipples. She was naked. He lifted his head, working through the groan and saw his lower body was covered by the sheet. There was a tent down there. He had morning wood. He was in bed with his naked daughter, and was sporting what she must think was a boner meant for her.

“Not for you,” he grunted.

“What? Are you okay, Daddy? What’s wrong?”

“Hung over,” he groaned, letting his head flop back down.

“You don’t usually drink that much,” observed his naked daughter.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

He peered at her pink-tipped breasts and the weird part of that for Julie was that it didn’t feel weird at all.

“Bobby and Barbie were ... um ... doing stuff ... and I didn’t want to watch, and I didn’t want to sleep in the couch, so...”

“You’re naked,” he whispered.

“I was naked when I decided to sleep here,” she said.

“Wait. Doing stuff? Bobby and Barbie were doing stuff? What kind of stuff?” He groaned. “No wait. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know. What did I do to you? I’m so sorry, Julie. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” she said, leaning into him and pressing one hot breast against his chest. “I’m not hurt.”

“But I remember...” he stopped.

“I’m not all freaked out, Daddy,” she said. “I’m a little disturbed with Bobby and Barbie, but I’m not mad at you. I know what you were trying to do, and it worked. I understand how sex can get all out of control really fast. I get it. I finally get it. I learned my lesson.”

Bob felt a little better. Obviously she wasn’t traumatized. He felt like he should get up and go check on Bobby and Barbie, but based on how Julie was talking, he had a feeling he wouldn’t like what he found.

“Are they okay? I mean alive and all that?” he asked. He decided that was a pretty stupid question.

“They’re fine,” said Julie. “They have no control, but they’re fine. They definitely haven’t learned their lesson, yet.”

“Ohhh crap, what have I done?” he groaned.

“You want some breakfast? You should eat something. You’ll feel better if you eat.”

Nausea visited, but only for a moment.

“Orange juice,” he whispered.

“I’ll get it for you!” she said, enthusiastically.

He winced and kept in another groan as she literally bounced out of bed. Even feeling as bad as he did, there was no missing her svelte, nude body as she got up. She displayed no embarrassment whatsoever at being naked in front of him. Nor did the fact that she threw the sheet off of them both, exposing his morning wood, seem to give her pause.

He lay there, thinking about getting up but doing none of the things needed to make his body move. It was his bladder that finally got him going. She was waiting for him, still naked, with a glass of OJ in her hand, when he came out of the bathroom. He’d washed his hands and then splashed some water on his face. She stared at him and he saw her eyes drop.

“It looks so different,” she said. She looked up at his face. “Soft, I mean.”

“I knew what you meant,” he said. Her total acceptance of nudity was what calmed him, in terms of worrying that he’d screwed up his whole family dynamic. Well ... come to think of it ... he had screwed up his whole family dynamic, but it didn’t appear to have sent the “plane” flaming into the ground. He took the orange juice from her and drank deeply. Then he spent a few seconds examining her body.

His elder daughter was the slimmer of the two, with pear-shaped breasts, a stomach that was almost concave, and hips flared enough that she didn’t have to wear belts with her pants unless it was a fashion statement. That was, in fact, why Danny had been able to get his hand in her shorts so easily. She hadn’t been wearing a belt. As his eyes slid over one naked hip, they were drawn to her feminine core. He knew she wore a bikini when she went to the city pool. Her pubic hair was trimmed as perfectly as any he’d ever seen in the pictures of naked women he sometimes perused as he masturbated. Perusing pictures was as far as his mind allowed him to go, in terms of “cheating” on Olivia. She’d been gone a long time, physically, but she’d never be gone from his memory.

He felt his traitorous penis twitch as he realized Julie had Olivia’s full, lush pussy lips, which displayed happily, rather than pulling in tightly to protect what they covered. Her long legs made her look vaguely coltish. All in all, she was a healthy, vibrant, young woman who was perfectly ripe to be a woman. Except for her age, of course.

She was looking at his penis again and he knew it was at least half full.

“Let’s get dressed and have breakfast,” he said. “Then we can talk about what happened.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m sorry I let Danny touch me like that. Can you forgive me?”

It was ridiculous. Danny had done nothing any red-blooded young man wouldn’t try to do with a girl. It was just how things worked, biologically speaking. Of course he didn’t have to like it, but he couldn’t be really angry about it.

“Sure, Baby,” he said, somewhat abstractly.

“Thank you!” she yipped, running to hug him.

Her warm skin did the trick and his penis announced itself to be hangover-free and ready to romp. When she stepped back, it was obvious that the contact had affected her, too. Her nipples were erect and her cheeks were pink. Her eyes dropped to his groin and her mouth opened in surprise as she actually saw his cock thicken and rise.

“Do you want me to suck it before breakfast?” she asked.

He thought she was being sarcastic, dressing him down for his lack of control. The OJ had helped, but his mind wasn’t free of the hangover, yet.

“I’m really sorry about that, Baby,” he groaned. “I won’t ever ask you to do that again. I promise.”

“But why?“ her voice rose and pierced his brain. “I didn’t mind, Daddy. In fact, I liked it. I mean I know I’m not supposed to like it, but I did anyway. I want to do it again.”

The room spun briefly as her words finished the job and his penis jutted again, stiff as a board. In his weakened mental state, the memory of how her mouth had felt on him the previous night made him light-headed. He staggered to the bed and sat down heavily. Julie was at his side instantly, her solicitous hands on him.

“Daddy? What’s wrong, Daddy?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” he mumbled. He wasn’t okay. He knew that. It wasn’t okay to want to lie back and let his daughter suck the sap out of his stiff prick again. But he had to maintain the façade of normalcy for her sake.