Chapter 19

Wow, Colleen thought as she watched David and his lady approach Carol's patio and hot tub. Although stark naked, the striking couple strode boldly, both obviously comfortable with their bodies, and well they should be. David looked like Michelangelo's statue of the biblical character with his name. What a hunk! Nora moved like a sleek, golden cougar, lean and smooth, graceful and regal. Nora took Colleen's breath away. What a beauty! Colleen couldn't decide who excited her more, the man or the woman.

Denise noticed Colleen's avid gaze and smiled. Teasing time! She leaned to her lover's ear and whispered, "Which would you prefer?"

Colleen shook her red mane and whispered back, "I couldn't decide, so in a sudden and graphically detailed fantasy, I preferred them both - at the same time!"

Denise laughed gaily.

"We've got a couple of good-looking kids," Carol said to Joe.

"Uh-huh." He hoped Carol's hand on his thigh under the frothing water wouldn't venture upwards and discover the hard-on the sight of his sexy, naked daughter had given him. Precisely because he hoped for something, fate and Carol defied his wishes, and Joe felt Carol's fingers wrap his erection and give it an affectionate squeeze.

Carol leaned toward him and whispered, "May I assume your daughter caused this lovely erection, not my son?"

Joe grunted with indignation. "Hah. Unlike you, I'm not a switch hitter. The sight of both of them probably turned you on."

"You're not wrong, cowboy," Carol said with a wry grin, "as long as you include yourself in the arousal recipe."

David and Nora stepped up to the hot tub, and with his arm around Nora's waist, David introduced her to Denise and Colleen before following Nora into the bubbling water. David leaned back, closed his eyes and sighed. "Nice. Thanks for letting us join you, everyone. I needed this."

Nora cuddled next to David, laying her head on his upper chest as she pulled his arm over her shoulder. Without thinking, David's dangling hand fondled her breast. Without protest, Nora turned and gave him an affectionate kiss.

Carol felt Joe's shaft grow longer and stiffer in her hand, so she gave it a couple of slow, smooth, long strokes.

Denise swallowed the excess saliva in her mouth. As Nora had stepped into the hot tub, Denise had noticed Nora's exceptionally large clitoris, which had caused Denise's mouth to water.

Colleen leaned to Denise and whispered, "It's obvious which you prefer." As she spoke, Colleen moved her hand up Denise's leg until it cupped her mound.

Carol glanced around the hot tub. Before David and Nora joined them, the interaction among the group had been playful. Now the sexual tension was palpable. What she found particularly interesting was Joe's obvious sexual desire for his daughter. Joe's eyes had devoured the lovely, young woman as she approached the hot tub, much like his hungry eyes had ravished Carol the first time he saw her. Something was different. Joe seemed more blatant about how much he wanted his daughter. Interesting.

"You want her, don't you?" Carol whispered in Joe's ear.

Joe's body stiffened with shock but almost immediately relaxed as if he were trying to hide his reaction. He didn't respond verbally, but his body language along with a lack of denial in any form gave Carol her answer. More than interesting.

At that moment, Carol resolved that Joe should indeed have sex with his daughter, and what's more, Carol would help him achieve the goal. David wouldn't object. He'd welcome Joe and Nora's incestuous coupling as a solution to the dilemma Carol and David faced when it came time for them to reveal their own incestuous relationship.

But for Denise and Colleen's presence, Carol would've pushed the issue immediately. Then she remembered the upcoming trip to Texarkana. Somehow, someway during the excursion, Carol would help Joe fall between his daughter's lovely legs. Not tomorrow night, but the next. Saturday night.

Carol mentally examined the hurdles she needed to leap to achieve her goal. First, the planned trip needed to take place. With Darla and Steve's rift, they might cancel the trip. She'd need to encourage David and Joe to go anyway. The second hurdle worried her more than the first. Joe obviously wanted his daughter, but would Nora cooperate?

Carol watched Nora's eyes meet Joe's and saw lust in her expression, but was the lust for her father or the result of David's fingers dancing on her lovely breast. Nora was bold, adventuresome, but was she bold enough to break the incest taboo? Carol smiled wickedly. Yeah, she was, given the right circumstances.

Saturday night. Somehow, someway, Saturday night would be the night. Carol vowed to orchestrate all the variables to create the perfect moment that would allow Nora to defy conventions and put aside the incest taboo.

Whimpering sounds came from the baby monitor sitting on the cool deck next to the hot tub. Gorgy-Porgy was awake. Carol scampered out of the water and hurried inside.

Left alone, Carrie closed her eyes and tried to capture the elusive memory of a slice in time long past. It was one of her first memories, so it was indeed difficult to pull from deep in her mind where it rested awaiting recall.

She'd been a bad girl. She remembered that much, because her momma was scolding her. Normally, Carrie's mother was a nurturing, loving woman, but once let loose, her temper could be awesome. Whatever Carrie had done had sapped her mother's patience, and she'd slapped Carrie's face.

Most of the time, her momma's hands were soft and caring, hands with long fingers, dainty, with neatly groomed fingernails, normally painted a bright red, soft hands that could make Carrie melt when they caressed, but they weren't soft that day. Carrie recalled the sting on her cheek and the sting in her eyes caused by sudden tears.

Her mother stood her in a corner facing a barren wall, and screeched, "Stand and think, little missy! Think about what you did. I'm sorry I slapped you, but you had it coming."

For fifteen minutes Carrie stood studying the soft blue wall. Is that why blue was her least favorite color? Fifteen minutes felt like an eternity to the little girl, and Carrie remembered she didn't feel any remorse. What she felt was intense defiance. If her mother wanted her to think about what she did, she just wouldn't do it. Her momma would never know. Carrie got even.

Lying on the plastic-covered mattress, once again bound to the four corners of the brass bed, Carrie considered ways she could defy Baldy. Her defiance would need to be undetectable, like not thinking about what she'd done to defy her mother. Carrie wanted to get even.

In an hour, maybe less, he'd return and... and...

She tried not to think the word. It was a bad word. Still, she couldn't stop the word from echoing in her mind.

He'd return and fuck her again and make her fuck him back.

"Fuck," she hissed out loud, and then giggled nervously. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

I'm being a bad girl, Momma. I need to have you stand me in the corner to stare at an ugly blue wall. Baldy fucks me, and I fuck him back. I gotta fuck him back, Momma. If I don't he'll hit me again, or worse he'll...

Uh-uh, don't even think the K word.

Tears stung her eyes, much like they'd stung her eyes when her mother slapped her many years before. Yes, she'd been a bad girl. She'd... come.

I couldn't help it, Momma. He licked me, licked and sucked my happy spot, my clitoris. He made me feel feelings I'd never felt before. Wonderful feelings.

She swallowed a sob. Yes, she was a bad girl because she wanted him to lick and suck her happy spot again. She wanted to come again. She wanted him to bathe her again, too. She'd enjoyed his soapy hands, his touches and his gentle kisses while he bathed her. She wanted him to bathe her, touch her, and lick her... clit.

Yes, she'd heard the shortened version of clitoris. Mary Anne had said it. Carrie couldn't remember the circumstances, why Mary Anne had said clit out loud, but Carrie remembered she'd been shocked at the time.

Never again. Carrie wondered if any nasty word would ever shock her again. She didn't know it, but she had lost her innocence at an age where innocence was normal and needed so the little girl in her could chip away at that innocence in future years. Baldy had stolen what wasn't his to take.

"Fuck, cunt, cock, clit, clitty," she whispered. She knew the words. She also knew if Baldy wanted to bathe her or lick her again, she'd be willing, indeed even an enthusiastic participant.

Nothing else about her current existence made her happy. Besides, intuitively she understood being a bad girl made her abductor happy, and if he was happy then he wouldn't...

If he wanted her to come, she'd come. If he wanted her to be Terry, she'd be Terry. If he wanted her to fuck him back, she'd fuck him back.

She might be a bad girl, but she was alive.

Stay alive.

"There, there, little darlin'. Grandmother's here," Carol's voice said over the monitor still sitting by the hot tub. "Let me put on a wrap, and I'll fix some milk for you."

No one occupying the hot tub spoke until Carol had taken the baby from the room with the speaker. Colleen finally broke the silence. "Denise tells me your consciousness slipped into your past once while you were visiting Carol. Was she putting me on, David?"

He huffed a laugh. "No, but you misunderstood. I didn't move into my past, but rather my mother's. She was ten years old at the time. I wasn't even a twinkle in my daddy's eye then. I haven't told you, Denise, but I've also visited the future along with a couple more visits in the past. I think I was correct about red-shifting into the past and blue-shifting into the future. I noted the shifts in the character of the light that engulfs me just before my consciousness leaves my body for a journey."

"Interesting," Denise commented. "Are your connections purposeful? I mean, can you purposefully connect with someone in his or her past or future?"

"Yes and no. The connections are purposeful. I select whom I plan to visit, but I can't control the switch into the future or past, not yet. I slipped into the past and visited Mom again. She was about seventeen years old at the time, and while my consciousness occupied that moment in Mother's time, I switched to another person, and in the process, remained in the same time. In fact, Joe, I switched to you. You were about... oh, I'm not sure, twenty years old, maybe slightly younger. You were in a corral whispering to a horse, and a pretty young woman about your age was sitting on the top rail of the corral watching you. You called her Amanda."

David felt Nora's body stiffen with shock next to him, and he made a mental note to question her about her reaction later. He continued, "And to test a theory I switched connections again to a man I knew was dead in our here and now. The connection was successful." He sighed. "It was disconcerting to see him alive again, but at the same time, very rewarding."

After a personal debate, David decided no harm could come from telling Denise what he'd seen when he'd visited her in her future, so he described the scene. "When I felt compelled to ask if the baby was mine, the trip abruptly ended. I don't think my consciousness will allow me to do anything during a time trip that will change the past or future."

He reinforced his theory by telling everyone about the trip ending when he wanted to warn Boynton to stay away from the Morgan Stanley Building on the night he was assassinated.

Nora, Colleen and Joe looked dumfounded. Denise wasn't speechless, though. "So it's possible you'll grant my request?" she said, her voice sounding hopeful.

"Yes, but it's just as likely Colleen gave birth to the child or someone besides me was the baby's father. As I said, I immediately returned to my body when I wanted to ask you if I was the little girl's father."

"A little girl?" Denise asked, suddenly starry-eyed. David had not mentioned the child's gender when he recounted the scene he'd witnessed.

"Yes, a little girl."

Denise turned to Colleen. "We'll soon have a little girl to love and cherish, Colleen." Tears swam in Denise's eyes. Happy tears. The women fell into each other's arms.

Steve stepped from the shower and toweled himself dry. He had an operation scheduled in an hour but worried he might not be up to the task. He held his normally steady hands in front of his face, and the slight tremors in his hand decided the issue. He called his head nurse and told her to shuffle or cancel all his morning appointments.

When he cut himself shaving, he knew he'd made the right decision. Besides, he had marital issues he needed to deal with. The love of his live didn't consider him the love of her life, an unacceptable situation. Before leaving the bathroom, he swallowed three ibuprofen, which would help his throbbing head but would do nothing for his upset stomach.

Live with it, bubba, he told himself. After pulling on some casual clothes, he braced himself for the upcoming confrontation.

When he stepped into the kitchen, Darla had her back to him, which gave him a moment to take in her beauty. Beautiful on the outside; ugly and sick on the inside, he thought. His stomach turned over, and he swallowed the excess saliva nausea produced.

Darla turned to him and flashed a brilliant smile. "Coffee's perked. Sit down. I'll pour you a cup. One for myself, too, and we'll talk. I doctored some tomato juice to help settle your stomach. Your hangover has to be a killer."

You're rambling, Darla told herself as she performed the chores, finally taking a seat at the table with her husband. She watched him gulp half the tomato juice and waited for him to speak. Instead, he glared at her. To break the silence, she asked, "Do you remember last night?"

"Yes," he replied and sipped hot coffee. "In the cold light of day, and in a sober state, I've decided I want a divorce."

Darla's heart sunk. His pronouncement sounded so final. All the air whooshed out of her as if Steve's words had punched her in the stomach. Tears stung her eyes.

"Our marriage," Steve continued, "was doomed from the start because it was built on a succession of secrets and lies. I love you, Darla, but I can't live with you anymore."

Darla brushed the tears from her eyes with her fingers. "Last night you said you might be able to forgive me under certain unspecified conditions."

"I was drunk, grasping at straws. Under normal conditions, perhaps we could have fashioned someway to restore trust, conditions like you never interacting with your lovers again, but your lovers are your family. Can you see yourself never seeing or speaking to your brother and mother again? I can't, especially with David's freaky disembodied consciousness hovering, intruding on my privacy without my permission or awareness."

He exhaled deeply. "I tried, Darla. I honestly tried to think of a set of conditions that would allow us to remain husband and wife, to be partners in life, but unknown to me, our partnership included two silent partners. I won't share my life with three partners. I want one partner."

He slammed the palm of his hand on the table and at the same time shouted, "One!" His shoulders slumped and unbidden tears filmed his eyes. "Not three," he added quietly.

With tears streaming from her eyes, Darla took Steve's hand in hers, but he jerked it away.

"I want you to move out of this house today," he stated. "This is my house. I paid for it. You can close the deal on Arabian Downs, or not. We were buying it with your money, so the choice is yours. Just so you know, I don't want a dime of your fucking money. I'll also sign over to you all my rights to the stock in the corporation we formed to purchase the farm." He shook his head, and a look of determination entered his eyes. "My son is the only remaining open issue. I know you love him deeply, but I can't see him raised in the incestuous cloud surrounding you. I..."