Chapter 2

"Carly!" croaked Tom.

"Mmfpht!" responded his daughter, wiping her mouth with the back of one hand. She swallowed yet again.

"Carly!" gasped Tom, again. He was astonished when his penis insisted how happy it felt.

As concern over choking to death faded away, the enormity of what she had just done slammed into the teenaged girl like a linebacker hitting an unprotected quarterback. She had just sucked a cock! And not only that, it was her daddy's cock! The taste in her mouth reminded her that he had squirted in there, and she realized at that instant that her hands were on her breasts, squeezing them. Suddenly horrified, and knowing her life was over, she stared at her father as he sat up like there were overstressed springs in his belly. Almost idly she looked at his penis, which was even whiter than before, and limp, as if it had simply been scared to death.

It was that image, more than anything else ... the image in her mind that she had just killed a penis ... that rattled her brain back onto a more or less normal track.

About then, her father groaned "Oh Carly! What did you do, Baby?"

What she heard, in those words, more than anything else, was his use of the word "Baby" toward her, something he normally called her mother. When it came to Carly, he called her "Sweetheart" or "Princess" and, once in a while, "Heartbreaker." Somehow, being called Baby made what had just happened take on a much more intimate character.

She realized that was silly. How much more intimate could you get than oral sex? But when he had used that pet name, she felt undeniably female ... and undeniably horny.

She had to say something. She had no idea what to say. So she reverted to the normal.

"Hi Daddy!" she said, her voice chipper and perky. "Mom sent me to tell you she can't give you a massage today, and for you to go home."

Beth knew where the emergency key was. There was one above the door frame of every room, and all the therapists knew that. If anybody hit the panic button inside a room, the responders expected the door to be locked, and the emergency key was there just for that eventuality. She slid her fingers along the frame and felt dust, and then the key, which was really nothing more than a long, slim rod. She slid the end of it into the hole in the door handle and pushed. There was a click, and she turned the knob. As the door opened, her daughter's voice said, very clearly, "I'm sorry, Daddy. It was kind of an accident."

What she found was a surprisingly sedate teenaged daughter, and a husband who was in the process of going apeshit. For the very first time, it occurred to her that things might not have been as she first imagined. In fact, suddenly, she got the impression this was the first time anything had happened.

She knew her daughter was juicy. Beth had been juicy when she was a girl too, and her Uncle Bob had noticed that. He had seduced her, plain and simple, telling her how beautiful and sexy she was, freely admitting what kind of improper (his word) and immoral (his word) fantasies he had about her. She had been thrilled that a grown man would treat her like she was years older than she was.

Eventually, she had just asked him straight up: "If I let you ... what exactly do you want to do to me?"

His answer had done several things. It had showed that he thought about things on multiple levels. There were the things he wished he could do, such as "fuck your brains out and make your sweet belly swell up with my baby." But he knew he couldn't allow that to happen. He worried that if he did anything at all, other than fantasize, that it would have a detrimental effect on her future. They talked about it, and again she felt like he was treating her like the adult she wished she was, instead of the fifteen-year-old juicy treat she was. In the end, she negotiated with him, asking for some things and making him promise he wouldn't do other things.

It was all for naught, of course. The only promise that got kept was that she went on the pill. Other than that, she eventually ended up asking him to do everything to her. She even got him to insert a slim dildo in her anus, though he never put his penis there. By the time she was eighteen, she was a consummate lover, and Uncle Bob thought of himself as the luckiest man alive.

But when she married, he kissed her one last time, in her bridal gown, and he'd never touched her since, other than a nice hug whenever they saw each other.

So Beth knew that, if this really was some kind of weird accident, Carly had the capacity to get through this. She could imagine how freaked out Tom was. The first time she had sucked him off, he'd been so rigid that she thought he might stay that way for hours. He'd become almost normal over the years, from her vantage point, but this wasn't something he could fit into that world. She decided that, perhaps, the family meeting should take place in the privacy of their home, rather than here in the shop. To that end, as two faces containing huge, frightened eyes looked at her, she took charge.

"Tom. I know what just happened. Get dressed. Go back to work. Carly, go ask Jennifer where all the waste baskets are and empty them into the dumpster out back. I'll clean up the room. I can't get off work now, but we'll discuss this when I get home tonight."

Nobody asked her how she knew what just happened. Everybody knew that moms (or wives) had the mystical ability to just know things. Besides, both participants were still distracted by what had happened.

"I can't just go back to work!" gasped Tom, looking around the room as if there were others there who would back him up on this.

"Yes you can!" snapped his wife. "You have to. This isn't the end of the world, Tom. No matter how you feel about it right now, this isn't the end of the world. We need to talk about it, but we can't do that right this instant. Just go back to work. Think about work."

Tom looked at Carly. He blinked. "I can't think about work," he said, as if he thought she was crazy.

"Then think about what she did, and how much you obviously enjoyed it!" snarled Beth. "But whatever you do, do it somewhere else. The last thing I need is for you to melt down at my workplace!"

He suddenly looked wounded. "I'm not going to melt down!" he complained.

"Good. Now get dressed and get out of here, or I'm going to have her do it again and give her a stroke by stroke critique of her performance!"

Carly finally spoke. "Do what again?" Her voice sounded innocent.

Beth shot her a venomous look. "Don't even try it, missy." She pointed at the window. "Two way mirror."

Carly paled. "You saw?"

"Ohhhh yeah," said her mother.

"It was an accident!" yipped Carly.

"We will discuss this at home!" Beth almost yelled.

Tom stood. He was stark naked, but he acted like he was fully clothed.

"This is all some kind of practical joke ... isn't it." He grinned, tentatively. "That's it. I don't know how you did it, but you made me think it was Carly. But it was you ... really." He looked hopeful. "Wasn't it?"

Beth put one hand on either of his cheeks and put her nose an inch from his.

"Tom, honey, your daughter just sucked your dick. If you want to, kiss her, and you'll taste your own semen. I don't know why Carly sucked your dick. Well, actually I think I do know why, but that's not the point. The point is that something very strange has happened to this family, and I just want to make sure we survive it. So please go back to work and act normal and try to be normal, and when you come home tonight, we'll work this all out. Please? For me?"

"I don't understand," he whined.

"Do you love me?" she asked.

"Of course I do," he moaned.

"And I love you too. I just saw our daughter suck your dick, and I still love you, Tom! That has to be enough for right now."

He somehow had the capacity left in him to look shocked one more time. But then his face steadied.

"Okay," he said, firmly. He looked at Carly. It was obvious he had no idea what to say to her. Finally he came up with "I'll discuss this with you later, young lady!"

They had to stop him from leaving the room stark naked.

Carly opened the car door and slid into the passenger seat. The only things her mother had said to her since coming into that room were instructions for her to do this or that thing at work. She had emptied the wastebaskets. She had helped Jennifer file things. She had straightened up the office supplies closet. She had also figured out where the entrance to the secret hallway was, and had gone to stand where she saw her mother's footprints in the dust, on the other side of the mirror where she had sucked her daddy's cock.

Now her mother was driving them home, staring through the windshield to the front of the car, just like she always did. It was like she wasn't mad!

Which was insane.

But there was no way Carly was going to start the conversation. She knew it would have to happen. But she could wait.

Ten minutes later Carly was remembering the taste in her mouth. She hadn't had a chance to take a drink, or wash her mouth out after he spurted in it. And by the time she did get the chance, the combination of musk, bitter, salty and somehow sweet tastes had impressed itself on her brain in ways she could hardly believe. It wasn't objectionable. That, in itself was surprising enough.

But what blew her away was that she remembered the taste as "yummy."

And that she knew if she ever got the chance to suck it again ... she'd happily let him come in her mouth again.

The "him" Carly was thinking about was having problems of his own.

Staff Sergeant Tom Rawlinson had been raised on a wheat farm, where he started working from dawn to dusk when he was about eleven or twelve. It wasn't make-work either, and his work ethic was firmly established by the time he got to high school, which was just a different kind of work to Tom.

Theirs was a family farm, and with the mixture of good years and hard years, they never had a lot of money. That's why Tom decided to join the Army when he graduated. The GI Bill would get him to college, whereas wheat would not. And Army life wasn't all that different from farm life. You still got up before the sun, and went out and did things in the dark. But the backbreaking, tire-you-out part was usually done before breakfast. After that the civilians came to work, and things seemed to slow down a bit. He adapted well, and became an expert at his job, which he enjoyed doing.

And, finally, he had time for girls.

He'd been interested in girls for years, of course, but on the farm you rarely got to interact with them. But you stumbled over them right and left in school, where they seemed to be strange, alien creatures, who traveled in packs and either laughed at you or took offense at the slightest thing you did. It didn't help that his parents were very conservative. He was the product of normal boy/girl interactions and wasn't aware until after his own marriage that he was conceived out of wedlock. That was the source of his parents' almost maniacal insistence that he wait to explore girls. The problem was that it was always just "wait" and there was no suggestion as to when he could stop waiting. It wasn't that they were being mean. They just knew how hard it was for them when they screwed up, and didn't want the same thing to happen to their son.