Chapter 13

“I am in so much trouble,” sighed Emma. They were in their respective beds. It was eleven P.M. and their parents still weren’t back from their date.

“Why?” asked Beth, her voice dreamy. She still remembered Paul’s youthful exuberance as he rutted in her. It was so different than when Daddy did that. Paul was lighter, for one thing, and didn’t crush her as much. He got into her more deeply and that drove her almost crazy.

“I can’t live without that,” moaned Emma.

“You don’t have to,” said Beth. “We still have Daddy.”

“I know, and I love that. I love him. But this was different, somehow.”

“Of course it was different. It was a different penis and a different man.”

“I’m going to miss Paul so much.” Emma’s voice betrayed the tears that were in her eyes.

Beth got out of bed and went to crawl in with her sister.

“I know,” she moaned in solidarity. “I will, too.”

“What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” sighed Beth.

Teenagers often feel like the fact that they had sex will somehow show, and that their parents will know it happened. That could be true, but usually only if the teen telegraphs something. If they act normal, then parents usually don’t suspect a thing. The next morning the twins acted normal.

That only lasted until they were in an intimate setting with Bob.

It was Beth who ‘spilled the beans’. She was riding her father, something that was, in itself, unusual. Usually she liked to be pinned to the bed and pounded. Tonight she was almost lazily sliding back and forth, just enjoying the feel of Daddy’s fat prick up in her.

“Daddy?” she queried.

“Hmmm?”

“How mad would you be if I did this with another man?”

Bob wasn’t stupid. He knew how enamored his daughters were with Paul.

“You mean with Paul?”

She stopped and stared at him.

“Okay ... with Paul, then,” she whispered.

“He can’t get you pregnant and I’m fully aware that you won’t need me some day,” he said.

“I’ll always need you!” she yipped. “I’ll need you for the rest of my life!”

Bob smiled and smoothed his hands over her breasts.

“Your future husband may have some objections to that,” he said.

“If he does then I won’t marry him!” she said, stubbornness in her voice.

“I recommend you do not vet any potential husbands by asking them if you can still have sex with your father after the wedding.”

“I wouldn’t put it like that,” she said, beginning to move again. “I’ll just have to make love with you every once in a while, maybe when I visit.”

“That would be cheating on your husband,” said Bob. “Would you like it if I cheated on your mother?”

“Not the same thing,” said Beth.

“Your husband would think it is.”

“I don’t want to think about this right now,” moaned Beth. “I just wanted to know if you’d be disappointed or mad if I let somebody else do this.”

“You mean Paul,” he said again.

“Pleeease,” moaned Beth. She was clearly begging, but it was impossible to know if she was begging for an answer or permission.

“You’re almost an adult,” he said, gently. “As long as you promise to talk to us if things get messy, then you do whatever you feel like you need to do.”

She cried, and fell forward on his chest, where she kept crying. He just held her.

Suddenly she pushed up and started moving again, this time almost violently. He felt pain as his penis was wrenched, but didn’t say anything. He just reached for her waist to prevent her from hurting him.

She came soon, thankfully, and very hard, crying again as she had her orgasm.

He didn’t shoot in her.

He suspected Emma would soon be in his bedroom asking the same question.

While she was doing the same thing.

“I think the girls may have branched out,” Bob said to Julie when they went to bed that night.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think they let Paul fuck them,” he said.

“Why?”

“Why did they let him, or why did he do it?”

“No, Silly. I know the answers to that. Why do you think they did it? What makes you think they did?”

“Beth was acting froggy and asked me how mad I’d get if she let another man fuck her. I asked if it was Paul and she cried. So I told her she was a big girl and could do whatever she wanted.”

“We don’t want them to go wild, Honey,” said Julie.

“Yes, but we also can’t stop them. All we can do is hope that what we taught them stuck. If it did, they’ll be okay.”

“They’re upset that Paul is leaving,” said Julie.

“I have a feeling there will be more crying,” he sighed.

“I warned them about this,” said Julie.

“I don’t think saying we told them so is going to get much traction,” he said.

“Of course not and I’d never say that. We have to be there for them. Heartbreak can make you feel isolated and alone.”

“Well, I happened to ‘be there’ for both of them tonight, so I’m doing my part.”

“You’ve always loved ‘doing your part’, you old satyr,” his wife accused.

“You started this, as I recall,” he said.

“Yes, but you didn’t have to be so avid about helping them.”

“Have I been less than avid with you?”

“I’m not complaining. By the way, I should start my period in two or three days, if you haven’t molested me well enough to knock me up.”

“Is it too late to make sure?” he asked, reaching for her.

“Of course, you dufus. My ovulation was over last week.”

“Well, then, we must practice for next month, if I failed this month.”

“Okay, she said, happily. “Can I be on top?”

“Ride ‘em, cowgirl,” he said. “Yippee ki, yay, yay.”

As she rode him, enjoying just as much, if not more than their daughters did, she grew reflective.

“Did we do the right thing?” she asked.

“With the girls?”

“Yes.”

“At first I thought you were crazy,” he said. “But we both knew they’d get where they are sooner or later. I hope we’ve made their entry into womanhood a little easier.”

“I hope so, too,” she sighed.

“At least they talk to us about what they’re going through,” he said.

“I need to talk to them now,” she said.

“Not right now,” he replied.

“Okay. It can wait until tomorrow, then.”

“I love you,” he said, fondling her breasts.

“I know,” she said, speeding up. “That’s what helps me cope with all this.”

“I didn’t know you were having to cope,” he ventured.

“Of course I am,” she said. “My husband is in love with two other women, who are in love with him.”

“You’ll be with me always,” he said. “They won’t.”

She leaned down to kiss him.

“Don’t be too sure of that,” she whispered. “I think they’re as addicted to you as I am.”

Each girl got one more time with Paul before he went off to college.

He left both twins’ wombs soaked with his sperm.

And then, the worst year of their lives, up to that point, began.

It’s probably hyperbole to say their senior year of high school was the worst year of their lives. It was difficult, yes, but in later years, time would have softened the pain.

Academically it was a stellar year. The twins would also graduate summa cum laude. Some of that was because they were smart and took their education seriously. Part was because, like Paul, they needed scholarships to go to college. A big reason they did so well was because, from the viewpoint of the public, they didn’t waste any study time out on frivolous dates with boys. They did spend quite a bit of time face-timing with Paul, who they talked to on a regular basis. A lot of the discussion was about what his classes were like, and what it was like to live in a dorm, and the like. They made lists of things he wished he’d brought, but hadn’t, and things he had brought that turned out to be dead weight.

“When you don’t try to impress girls, and have access to a washer and dryer, you only need like four sets of clothes,” he joked.

“So you’re not dating, yet?” was a frequent question, and his answer was always the same.

“I have plenty of time for that, later. Right now I need to settle into this new routine. I have to keep my grades up for my scholarship.”

He wasn’t working because that was discouraged in one’s freshman year. When he started the next year he could apply for a work/study part time job. The good ones let you study while you worked, such as if you were answering phones or worked in the library, or had some other job that involved less than constant activity, with some ‘down time’.

The girls didn’t date, either. Beth told people she still had a boyfriend, who happened to be away at college. Emma just said no, when a boy asked her out. This is not to say they went without sex; quite the opposite. Bob got a visit from a horny girl every other day or so. Game night was a thing of the past, compared to what it had once been. Now game night consisted of the family gathering to watch a movie. It sometimes took half an hour just to decide what movie to watch. Julie learned that, if they watched a romance comedy, Bob wouldn’t come to bed until late because both girls got fired up when romance was involved. She didn’t mind, though. After missing a period completely (it wasn’t just late) she had gone to the doctor and learned she was, in fact, pregnant again. She was fully in mommy-prep-mode. She had improved her diet and was taking the prenatal vitamins the doctor had recommended. She also went for walks, but it was getting cold enough now that she did that less often. Bob and the twins, of course, were elated. She got cuddled with by one or both twins, who would lean against her and lay a hand on the bump where her relatively flat abdomen had been. More than once a twin would mumble, “I can’t believe Daddy made a baby in there!” to which Julie always responded, “If we hadn’t gotten you girls IUDs he would have made babies in you, too.”

Unconsciously (and certainly not by design) Julie was reinforcing the concept that, if one of the twins wanted to get pregnant, all she had to do was remove her IUD. And, while it takes a medical staff person to insert one, anybody can take it out, if they can grasp the little tail that’s there for that very purpose. That’s not recommended, but it can be done. It is painful, but it can be done.

Christmas brought a surprise gift, which turned out to be just like their last birthday gift. Paul teamed up with a guy he had met at college who was driving home for Christmas. He was going by Lincoln and dropped Paul off, arranging to pick him up on January the second to go back to school. He told his mother he was coming, but came home without telling the twins he was going to. He spent the first two nights at home, hiding out and spending time with his mother and Danny, who he had talked to much less than he’d talked to the twins. Then he called and, when Julie picked up the phone and he asked if he could come visit, she said, “Oh, please do. I’m tired of the girls being down in the dumps.”

She kept the secret from the girls, too. She told Bob but only mentioned to her daughters that they were having a guest for dinner one night.

“Who?” asked Beth.

“Just a friend of your father,” said Julie.

She prepared tuna casserole because it stores well in the fridge. Her intuition told her that supper might not get finished and that there would be leftovers. When Paul got there he tapped, just like he had in the past, and walked in.

“Anybody home?”

Julie intercepted him and let him gape at her swollen abdomen.

“Congratulations?” he said. The rise in his voice at the end made him sound like some of her friends, who were surprised and curious that she’d raise another child at her age.

“Thank you. We’re very excited about it,” she replied. “They’re in their room. Tell them dinner is ready for me?”

“Sure,” he said.

He didn’t knock at their door. He simply opened it and stuck his head inside.

“Your mom says dinner is ready.”

Both Bob and Julie heard the screams. It was five minutes before they came to dinner and they did that only because Paul said they had to.

“Your mother made a nice dinner and invited me over to eat. It would be rude if I didn’t eat.”

It was, possibly, one of the shortest meals in Cunningham history. The girls gobbled their portions, stuffed one hot roll each in their mouths, and then said, “Hurry up, Paul. We’re dying to talk to you.”

“Hmph,” said Bob.

The twins ignored him.

Paul had told his mother he might spend the night with one of his old audio/visual club members, sort of a slumber party where he could catch up on things. It seemed like a safe thing to say because that particular friend was also in his senior year at high school, like the twins. That he entertained the possibility that he would be out all night came from some instinct deep inside him. If it didn’t work out, he’d just go home.

All the youngsters pushed the envelope that night. The twins had never officially admitted that they had let Paul fuck them. Bob and Julie would have put money on it but they never pried and asked outright. The girls were so beside themselves at being able to be with him that they abandoned any attempt at disguising things. Paul, for his part, had missed them as much as they had missed him. He wasn’t so far from his former self that masturbation didn’t take care of his urges, for the most part, but once a man has experienced what it feels like to be deep inside a loving woman while she cums around his spurting prick ... well ... it’s something you miss and hope you can do again. Let’s just leave it at that.

He had also had a long time to reflect on the girls and what they had done with and for him. He had some inkling by now of just how different they were from other girls. He hadn’t dated, but he made friends with young women in his classes. The twins were responsible for that. He was no longer shy around girls. He also wasn’t predatory, in terms of pursuing them, and they recognized that. He was just a really smart, nice guy and they responded to him on that level.

He had also had time to think about Mister Mysterious. All he knew was that this man – he had to be an adult – had fucked the twins on what sounded like a more or less regular basis. Based on their few comments, this man had been fucking them while Paul was their tutor. Even with just that little bit of data, it didn’t take a genius to identify what adult male had access to the girls on that kind of level. If it was anybody outside the family then their parents would have noticed. And the things they said they’d been taught were the kind of things someone who loved them would teach them. Then there was the fact that, while they were obviously sexually active, they weren’t sluts. They had high standards, as incongruous as that might seem if they were involved in an incestuous relationship.

The way he processed these thoughts took a different path than one might think. First of all, he liked Julie. She was friendly, pragmatic, and she obviously loved her daughters. Nobody pays that much money to bring their children’s grade in chemistry up almost three full grade points. The average parent would have been delighted with a C and sent Paul on his way. When it came to Bob, all he could think about was that the guy wasn’t creepy. He wasn’t Chester, The Molester. He was just a regular guy. The few conversations he’d had had been singularly normal. He hadn’t blustered and made threats or rules about open doors. If it was him (and it pretty much had to be him) then what the girls had displayed was love of the kind that makes a woman want to be faithful to her lover. Granted, the only thing they had avoided was intercourse, but if their lover was their father the faithfulness would not be expected. Or would it? He had no idea.

Then there was that gently swollen belly of Julie’s, that said to the world that her sex life with her husband (he couldn’t even imagine Julie becoming pregnant with some other man) was both active and productive. If Bob was having sex with both girls it was extremely unlikely that their mother was blissfully unaware of it. Hadn’t one of the twins said something about their mother approving of Mister Mysterious? He couldn’t remember, exactly, but that’s what he thought had been said. If that was true, then he was having sex with his wife and daughters at the same time. Based on the mores of the culture they lived in, it just didn’t make sense.

Except these kinds of relationships were deviant and didn’t follow society’s rules. Therefore you couldn’t evaluate them based on how other people acted.

What kept hammering at him was that they all seemed so completely normal. He had known lots of other kids in high school who frequently said, “I hate my parents!” but he’d never even seen the twins unhappy about something at home. And Bob and Julie seemed as normal as pie, with the possible exception that they treated him more like an adult than any of the other parents he’d dealt with. This was not some family made up of twisted, corrupt, aberrant nonconformists.