Chapter 5: Marion Gives her Blessing

"So did you enjoy tonight? Truthfully, now."

She swung round in her seat, her eyes glowing. "Oh, Dad, it was fantastic."

"Was it like you expected?"

"I don't know. I don't know what I expected." She laid a hand on my knee and said earnestly, "I got so worked up when you spanked me and even more worked up with Kieran, he's dreamy by the way, and the, seeing you and Margo going at like rabbits - I nearly came on the spot. I didn't realise it would be such a turn on. All of it - the spanking, the four of us, the whole scene."

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," I laughed weakly. I hadn't anticipated such an enthusiastic response.

I drew into the side of the road and stopped. "Gemma, we need to talk."

"What? Three times in a month? That's way too much."

I chuckled then sobered. "Seriously we do need to sort a few things out. Firstly, I assume from your reaction that you'd like to go back?"

She nodded. "Yes. Tomorrow if possible."

"Tomorrow might be a bit soon."

"Well, okay, the day after."

"Gemma, please be serious for a minute."

"Sorry, Dad."

I cleared my throat nervously. "Gemma, your mother and I have been married for seventeen years and this is the first time I've been unfaithful to her."

Her eyes widened. "I never thought of that."

I grimaced. "Well, I have to."

"Do you... Do you still love Mum?"

"I do. Very much."

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Did you enjoy tonight?"

"I did. I shouldn't have but I did. And before you ask, I'd like to do it again, too." I took a deep breath. "Right now I feel like two people. One of me is solid, respectable Gerry who loves his beautiful wife and darling daughters. The other me is a sick pervert who gets his kicks from spanking his teenage daughter's bare bottom, has sex with strange women and enjoys watching his sexy daughter being fucked by strange men. Which of them am I really? I don't know. Perhaps I'm both. It would be good if I could keep them in little compartments. You know, be the nice me most of the time and trot out the nasty me ever other Thursday but, somehow, I don't think it works like that."

Gemma was looking at me sympathetically. "You're wrong about one thing, you know. Both you's are nice. They're just nice in different ways." She looked thoughtful. "But I know what you mean. Mum and I talk a lot. Usually I tell her everything." She stopped and blushed. "Well, perhaps not quite everything, but everything that's important. I can't tell her about this, can I."

I shook my head. "No. Neither of us can. But your mother's not stupid. She's going to notice our relationship has changed and she's going to ask questions."

She was quiet for a moment. "Does Hazel's mum know?"

It was a perceptive question. "No, I don't think so."

"So how do they manage?"

"I don't really know. I don't think Jack and Donna have such a close relationship."

"Oh." Another pause. "Do you think Mum would want to, sort of, join in?" she asked hesitantly?

"Would you like her to?"

"Um, I don't know."

"Actually, I've been wondering the same thing?"

"Would you like her to join in?"

I grinned. "Yes." I leaned towards her and spoke in a loud whisper. "She's got a very nice bottom, you know."

"Dad," Gemma exclaimed in a shocked tone, but she was giggling.

I sat back and was silent. As we had been talking, Gemma's hand had been idly stroking my knee. I was very aware of it. It was a nice hand and its touch was very pleasant. I looked over at Gemma. She was sitting, half turned towards me. Her skirt had ridden up, revealing a long expanse of smooth, slender thigh. My cock began to stir. 'This is ridiculous, ' I thought. 'I've already seen her naked so how can I be getting turned on by a glimpse of thigh?'. Gemma smiled hesitantly at my scrutiny.

I sighed. "Well, I don't think we're going to solve all our problems tonight. Let's just play it cool and see what happens. But I think we should keep our visits to our normal Thursdays, at least for the time being."

I could see she was disappointed but was very proud of her when all she said was, "Okay, Dad."

I patted the hand on my knee. We drove the rest of the way in silence, the earlier euphoria of the evening had dissipated. It was a pity but reality has a nasty way if intruding on fantasy: that's what this evening had been - a fantasy.

As it was we needn't have worried about Marion's reaction. She greeted us with a worried face.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Mum."

"What's happened to Gran?" Gemma cried.

"It's all right, dear, it's nothing critical. She's had an accident. She's fallen off a step-ladder and hurt her leg."

I chuckled. "I know it's not funny," I said contritely. "But what on earth was she doing up a step-ladder? Your mother gets dizzy standing on the bathroom scales."

Marion gave a wan smile. "You know I forgot to ask."

"Do you want to go and see her?"

"I'll pop over at the weekend. Dad says she's fine. It's not broken, just bruises and ligaments"

"Okay. You want me to drive you over?"

"No, I'll take a train. Do you want to come, Gemma?" Gemma nodded. She was very fond of her Gran. "Connie can't come as she's got that competition on Sunday. So I'll leave you to fend for yourselves."

"No problem. We'll be fine. I'm sure your mum will be okay but I'll bet your dad will be glad of a rest."

Marion laughed. She'd obviously been fretting and now things were decided, she had relaxed. "You're right. We'll go on Saturday and come back on Sunday."

"Let me know when you're due and I'll pick you up."

She stretched up and kissed my cheek. "Thanks."

"What for?"

"You're always so calm when there's a crisis."

Little did she know! I had been far from calm the last few weeks. "Your mother hurting her leg is hardly a crisis, but thanks anyway."

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I took Marion and Gemma to the station early on Saturday morning. Connie and I waved them off then picked up two of her team-mates and drove to her competition.

Connie does gymnastics. She's quite good; good enough, at least, to represent her school in inter-scholastic competitions, but she'll never be a professional gymnast. For one thing she's too tall and, more importantly, she was beginning to swell in all the wrong places for a gymnast. Today I watched the girls with new eyes. Many of them were underdeveloped, like many gymnasts were - by that I mean they looked much younger that their true ages. But some, especially the older girls, were decidedly feminine. I found myself admiring the thrust of teenage breasts encased in tight leotards, the movement of neat, tightly muscled bottoms and the swell of lycra-encased pubic mounds.

I shook my head to clear it of these salacious thoughts but that sent my mind off on another train of thought. Why had I never looked at the girls like that before? I had been attending gymnastic competitions for four years but had always seen the girls and, well, girls - Connie's team-mates and fellow competitors. So why, all of a sudden, was I seeing them as attractive young women? What was different about them? I pondered over this until it struck me that it wasn't the girls who had changed, it was I. My experiences with Gemma and the Slipper Club had forced me to become aware of her as a person in her own right and that, in turn, had made me start to look at other girls - women too, probably - in the same way. Perhaps Marion was right and I had been living in another planet.

=+=+=+=+=+=+=

When Marion and Gemma returned on Sunday, Marion was uncharacteristically distracted.

"Is your mother okay?" I asked anxiously.

"Oh, yes, she's fine." She grinned. "She's been told to rest her leg for a couple of weeks and is having a fine old time. Poor Dad's been running around after her like a demented chicken."

I laughed. "Do him good. He's a lazy old sod."

"Gerry!" she said indignantly. "That's unkind - but true." She grinned.

"When she's had her fun she'll be up and doing again. Your mum's not one for sitting idle."

She sighed. "I know. I only hope she doesn't overdo it. She's not getting any younger."

I gave her a hug. "She'll be fine. You worry too much. Still, if you want to go and stay over for a few days..."

She shook her head. "No. I don't think so." I noticed Gemma making urgent-looking gestures at me behind her mother's back. "You go and sit down. Gemma and I will make supper."