Denise was sprawled face down on her bed, kicking idly at the mattress with her Nikes. She was in her mid-teens, a street-wise girl with a milk-chocolate body that was concealed now inside a baggy pair of overalls and a tattered men's T-shirt. She had learned to keep her curves well- hidden, although even the best disguise wouldn't stop some of the guys in high school from hitting on her.

Still, Denise knew that it could have been worse. There were some girls who asked for it, dressing like hookers, but even those who wore simple skirts and blouses had to put up with an incredible amount of shit.

She walked a lot of lines to avoid trouble -- working hard to get the grades that would get her into college, but being careful not to be seen as a grind or a brain (not that the last was any real problem). And dressing down, but keeping it funky enough not to become the class joke.

Those weren't lines her parents understood. Mom the lawyer and Dad the doctor didn't see why being too good in school could be a problem. They were so sold on education that they'd probably have been on her case full-time if she wasn't lucky enough to have a younger brother as dumb as Theo around, screwing up his grades far worse than she'd ever dare to do.

She picked at a bit of fuzz on her comforter as her thoughts drifted. It wasn't really aimless thinking; she was consciously trying to avoid doing what she knew she couldn't avoid. She reached over and flicked on her radio, stalling for time.

Clair had disappeared after dinner, mysteriously telling Cliff only that she had something special to do in their bedroom. He puttered around the living room for awhile but finally his curiosity got the better of him and he clumped up the stairs. His middle-aged bones protested the strain of attending two births earlier that day, but despite his graying hair Cliff forced a slight spring into his step.

When he opened the bedroom door, he thought Clair must have snuck downstairs again without his noticing. The lights were out. Cliff wanted to get the book on his nightstand, anyway, so he took a step into the room.

"Hi, Cliff," came his wife's voice from the darkness. "Close the door."

His eyebrows rose. As the door clicked shut behind him, a light snapped on next to the bed.

Clair was stretched out before him in a white nightgown sheer enough to let him see that she had nothing on underneath. He drank in her slim, shapely brown body -- the breasts, still firm for a woman her age, the taut belly, the long, slender legs.

"Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho," Cliff burbled as he approached her, stripping off his own clothes. After all their years of marriage, she could still turn him into a sex-crazed wildman.

"Like my surprise, lover?" Clair whispered huskily.

"Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho," he chuckled in reply, stark naked now as he reached the bed and crawled toward her.

Denise groaned as another commercial interrupted the music. She glanced up at the clock. Groaning again, she got up slowly and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling out the note from her teacher and staring at it for the fortieth time.

Mr. Pfister wanted her parents to know that Denise was turning down "an excellent chance to sharpen her curriculum vitae before applying to college" by rejecting membership in the National Honor Society.

She'd only made the cut by the skin of her teeth, and if she'd even known she was close she would've managed to trim a few points off her GPA somewhere. The NHS was the worst of all, even worse than belonging to the chess club. But Denise knew her parents wouldn't understand; they'd insist that she apply.

She groaned again. Could she tell them? How the last two girls she knew to get named to the group had been haunted by half the boys in the class? How Shanelle had been almost raped by one boy who wanted to teach her not to be so uppity? Denise held herself tightly. Still a virgin, somehow, she didn't know what she feared most: having the other kids find out -- or having them find out why, that she was just too scared that the boy she chose would reject her. She knew the kids would hit on anything with two tits, but when it came right down to it, when she had found someone she really liked -- what then?

Clair moaned softly as Cliff expertly ate her pussy, licking ever so delicately. She ground her hips under his ministrations, her fingers running through his short, kinky hair. "That's perfect, Cliff," she said. "Just a little lower... ohhhhh, that's it!" He maneuvered his tongue around her cunt. Of course he could eat pussy, he thought to himself; after all, he was a gynecologist.

When she came, it was in her usual torrent of tremors, her body twisting and turning as the sheets wrinkled under her, slipping off the corners of the mattress under the strain.

Careful not to make any noise with all their children still up, Clair bit into the side of a pillow, muffling her shrieks of passion.

When at last she calmed down Cliff moved up, his stiff cock poised at the entrance to her hot, wet cunt. With the ease of a long-married couple, they joined swiftly. Cliff's hips rose and fell as he plunged into her tunnel.

"Damn, you're still good, woman," he whispered in her ear.

Denise took a deep breath and got to her feet. She knew it couldn't be postponed any longer. Note crumpled in her hand, she left her room and went downstairs. Mom was going to be in her bedroom, but Denise figured this was one that might go down better if she talked to Dad first. Not, she reminded herself ruefully, that either one was very accommodating when it came to school stuff.

She searched the first floor and called out into the basement, but Dad wasn't anywhere. Sticking her head into the kitchen she had startled Theo, who was supposed to be studying but really was having a sandwich and listening to a tape -- with the volume at full blast, to judge by the noise that came through the tiny earphones. She tried asking if he knew where Dad was, but by the time he took out the earphones she was tired of asking and just walked away. In the living room, Rudy was reading a book on the couch; all Denise got for asking her if she knew was a two-syllable answer -- "uh-uh."

Denise shook her head as she trudged up the stairs. Dad must be up there too. Sometimes getting them both at once was even worse than one at a time, but there was no getting around it.

Clair's legs were wrapped tightly around Cliff's waist and her hands clawed at his back as he thrust into her again and again.

"Yes, yes!" she whispered, "yes, harder, Cliff! Drive it into me! Put that meat into motion, lover!"

Cliff complied, launching himself into her cunt. He was enjoying this fuck more than any in the last several weeks, feeling in complete control. With the stamina that comes with age, he held back his own orgasm as his cock drove in. Clair, always ready for more, let herself go in another swirl of bucking and arching, driving her face into the pillow once more to stifle the screams.

The pillow was still covering her face when their daughter's voice crackled.

"Dad? Mom! Oh, my God! Oh, no!"

Cliff rolled off Clair's sweaty body and grabbed for the sheet to cover himself; it didn't quite reach. He didn't know where to hide. He wasn't one of those fathers who's casual about being nude in the house; he guarded his privacy and respected his children's. And he'd taken one too many child psychology classes not to worry about the effects of what Denise must have seen.

Clair was uncovered as well. Denise stared at the juices oozing out of her mother's cunt and became aware of the musky odor of sex that filled the room. Too shocked to move and too embarrassed to speak, she stared open-mouthed.

"Mmph-ur-ump!" Clair said, and then spat out the pillow. "Denise! What are you... why didn't you knock?" Even nude, Clair was able to compose herself into a sort of commanding posture, and she shook her finger at her young daughter. "We've told you time and time again..." Cliff stared at her, wondering how she managed to become so calm. Personally, he thought he wouldn't be able to manage much more than some incoherent babbling.

From the hallway came the tiny voice of their youngest daughter, Rudy. "Momma, can I come in?"

"No, honey," Clair quickly called out. "Close that door. Now!" she whispered sharply at Denise. "Denise and I have to have a talk, honey. You go on to bed now. I'll be in to tuck you in later."

Denise closed the door and turned to face her parents again, but still clung to the doorknob with one hand. "I can -- can just leave," she stuttered.

Cliff was too busy trying to work the sheet loose to respond. But Clair, unmoving, spoke calmly.

"You just stay right there. Now I want to know why you barged into our room without knocking."

"I just -- just didn't think," Denise offered weakly.

"Didn't think? Didn't think? Why did the good Lord give you a brain if you're not going to use it, young lady? I don't want you ever coming into this room again without knocking. Ever. Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Ma'am," the young girl said. "Can I go now?"

"Not quite," Clair said flatly.

Cliff had given up trying to move the sheet up and had shifted down himself, working enough of one end free to cover his privates. "What? Let the girl go, Clair," he protested. He gave the sheet another tug, trying to cover up his slight pot belly -- well, he considered it slight, anyway. Was she crazy? He just wanted this whole thing to be over with.

Clair refused to give in. "You came in here for a reason, young lady," she said, keeping a steely gaze on her daughter's face. "It better have been a good one."

Denise felt trapped. This was definitely not the time to bring up the note -- but what else could she say? She stammered and stumbled and hemmed and hawed, stalling in hopes that her mother would finally just send her away.

But instead, Clair's face softened and she sat up on the bed. Her breasts sagged only slightly as she leaned forward.

"I think I know what the reason was, honey," she said quietly.

Denise stared back, racking her brain to figure out what her mother was talking about. She came up blank. Cliff was thinking fast, too, but to no better result.

"You knew what we were doing, didn't you?" Clair asked.

Denise shook her head frantically. "No, I swear, I..."

"Yes, you did. And you wanted to come in. To see. Well, did you like what you saw?"

"I -- I --" Denise fell back against the door in surprise. "No, really, I just -- I mean..."

"Honey, you've never seen anyone having sex before, have you?" Clair had scooted down to the foot of the bed now, and reached a hand out to her daughter. "It's OK. I had an idea you were still a virgin. Oh, don't be so shy. Look, we're not born knowing what to do. It's natural to want to see what it's all about. I just wish you'd asked me, that's all."