Tastes Like Candy Ch. 01

But I didn't want to really think about it anymore unless I knew the truth. Until I knew the truth, I wouldn't make any judgments. I kinda hoped she was lying. That she wasn't my husband's daughter.

Cause, I didn't want to think of my husband having a child without me.

**********

(Marcus)

I called off from work, having to take care of this whole 'daughter' business. I hadn't slept at all. Me and Linda had been up late, talking about this situation. I could tell Linda wasn't happy about this, but she wasn't mad at me. Just the situation. Part of me was hopeful. Part of me wanted this. I always wanted a daughter. And if she was the real deal, if she was my daughter, I would be so happy. It wasn't the way I wanted it to happen, but it might have happened none the less. And I was happy at the idea. I would love to have a daughter in my home.

I picked up Brandy early the next morning, and both of us were pretty groggy, clearly neither of us morning people. We didn't say a whole lot through the appointment. I mean, what do you say to your long lost daughter? What could she say to her long lost father?

The appointment went fast, a few swabs on the inside of our cheeks. They said they are usually pretty fast, and they could get us the results by Monday (It was Friday today). By the time I pulled up to the breakfast place we were both starting to wake up. And as we sat at the booth, as I sat across from my prospective daughter, as we both sipped coffee, we finally began to speak.

"I thought people your age aren't supposed to drink coffee. It could mess up your development." I told her.

"All these life lessons I missed out on." she said with a laugh, causing me to laugh. "Besides, I think my development went just fine." she muttered, sticking her well developed chest out. I said nothing.

"So, you're out of school, right? What do you want to do with your life, Brandy?" I asked.

"Well, I was never much of a 'school' girl. I don't know what I want to do with my life. The only thing I want to do right now is find my father." Brandy replied.

"I wished Regina had contacted me. If... I am your father... I wished I had played more of a part of your life." I told her.

"We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other." Brandy said. "Besides, it's not your fault. It's Mom's. Like I said, Mom's a bitch. You're lucky you didn't get saddled with her. You're lucky you didn't have to deal with her."

"But still, I'm sorry." I told her.

We chatted for awhile, caught up with each other. I explained my job, and Linda, and everything about my life to her. And she did the same. She seemed like a sweet girl who had had a rough upbringing. Her mom had various men, all of them douche bags. I wished I had been there. To give her a man she could trust in her life. Maybe she could have had it better.

We definitely had a rapport with each other. A good give and take. An immediate bond. Part of me felt like I knew the results of the DNA test already. Part of me felt like this girl was my daughter. But I couldn't let myself get too excited.

We parted for the day. I told her about stuff in town that she could do until we got the DNA results. I told her we would meet on Monday once the results are in. We parted from there, both anxious for the results.

**********

I had been nervous all weekend. The only thing I had on my mind was Brandy. My possible daughter. Finally Monday came, and early in the day the phone call came. The results were in. I called up Brandy, picked her up, and drove her to the clinic.

We waited impatiently for the doctor to meet with us. We waited in his office, me tapping my foot, and Brandy clicking her nails on the chair. Finally, the doctor emerged, file in hand. He sat down, us both watching him, and he read the results.

"We have gone over the results, examining the DNA markers of you both, and there is no doubt about it. Marcus, Brandy here is your daughter."

I couldn't believe it. I could not believe it. I had a daughter. I had a child. I had someone on Earth that I helped create. My eyes teared up. I felt Brandy's hand snake into mine, gripping my palm firmly. I looked over at her. She was in tears too. I was so happy.

"Thank you doctor." I said. He left the room, leaving us together. We stood and left the clinic. I put my arm around Brandy's shoulders. Around my daughter's shoulders.

I was a father! Unbelievable. I never thought it would happen, but suddenly, here it was. I had a child.

But part of me was disappointed. Part of the deal with having a child was being there for those special moments. The scraped knees. The birthdays. The good and the bad. But I missed all of that. I vowed to make up for it.

I vowed to be a good Dad.

**********

"Well, I got the results." I said into my cell, driving back home.

"And?" Linda asked, desperately curious.

"Linda, you are now a stepmother. I am the father." I said with a laugh.

"Unbelievable." she said happily. "How do you feel?"

"Uh, yeah. I am really happy." I said, barely containing my joy.

"I'm happy too." Linda said. "Where's Brandy?"

"She's in her car, following me. I'm bringing her home."

***********

"So, Brandy, this room will be yours." I told her, leading her into the guest room. Me and Linda had discussed where we would put Brandy up if she were my daughter, and this was the spot.

"Not bad. Not bad at all." Brandy said with a nod, setting a bag down. "Biggest room I've ever had."

"This is gonna be so weird. Having someone else around this house." I said.

"Ha, well, I'm a weird kinda girl." she said. "You gonna help bring in the rest of my stuff, Daddio?" she asked.

"Absolutely, daughter dearest." I said with a laugh.

It took about a half-hour to completely unload her car and get all the boxes. I had worked up a bit of a sweat, as had she.

"So do you need help emptying them?" I asked.

"Nah, I got it." she said with a smile. "Wouldn't want you to stumble on a box of my... delicates." she added with a laugh, causing me to do the same.

"One thing I do want to ask." I started, about to ask something I had been thinking long and hard about, "Can I have your mom's number?"

"Why?" she asked, looking at me funny.

"Well, I want to talk to her about a few things. Let her know you're okay." I said. She didn't look crazy about this.

"Okay." she relented. She wrote down the number and handed it over.

"Don't worry. You're not in trouble." I told her, leaving the room, leaving her to her own devices. I went to the kitchen and picked up the phone, dialing Regina's number. I was nervous, having to call this woman I hooked up with in college. The woman who had had my baby.

The phone rang a few times before a female voice replied.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this, uh, Regina?" I asked.

"Yes. Who's this?" she said.

"Regina, this is Marcus Edwards." I replied. There was a long pause.

"Did Brandy find you?" she asked.

"Yes, she's here now. I just wanted you to know." I told her.

"That's good." she said.

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" I asked.

"I had no way to find you. We didn't have Facebook back then. By the time I could have tracked you down we had our own life... as did you." Regina said.

"You still should have told me." I said.

"Yeah, maybe so." she said.

"Uh, so how are you?" I asked.

"I'm good. You?" she asked.

"I'm good. I'm, uh, happy." I said. It was an extremely awkward conversation.

"This is really weird." Regina said.

"Yeah, tell me about it." I said.

"Yeah. I mean, what do you say to the man you had a kid with?"

"I know what you mean." I said.

"It's funny, this is the only sober conversation we've ever had." she said.

"You have any other kids?" I asked.

"No. Trust me, Brandy was more than a handful. I didn't need any others with her around." Regina said.

"Is there anything I should know about her?" I asked.

"She might act all sweet, but she has a nasty side. She is the type of girl that always wants to get her way. And if she doesn't, she will say and do some terrible things." Regina said.

"She outgrew that, right?" I asked.

"Tigers never change their stripes, darling." Regina said. "Plus, she is absolutely boy crazy. Expect to see an endless parade of losers and burnouts."

"She's young." I said.

"Trust me. I know the type. I was the type. She is beyond what I was." Regina said.

"Is that why you kicked her out?" I asked.

"Not quite. Try living with her. You'll figure it out." Regina said.

"Hmm." I said. There was another long pause. "Well, I just wanted to check in, Regina. Let you know Brandy is in good hands."

"Okay, sounds good. And if you want to meet up at some point and discuss our child face-to-face, or maybe other things, let me know." Regina purred.

"Uh...okay." I said. "Bye."

"Goodbye Marcus." Regina said.

I processed what she had told me. She said Brandy was trouble. Brandy seemed like a sweetheart to me. Then, she claimed Brandy was boy crazy. More than she ever was. And believe me, Regina was a giant whore. So was she saying that Brandy, my daughter, was a bit of a... slut? No, it couldn't be. She seemed like such a sweet girl. Brandy wasn't a whore like her mother. And judging by that last bit of the conversation, Regina had not changed much.

I learned as a teacher and as a coach to let myself be the one to evaluate someone, as opposed to hearing about someone second hand. I would pass the final judgment on her. And besides, she was my daughter.

She couldn't be so bad, could she?

***********

"We don't usually do this, but we thought it would be a good idea to have a family dinner around the table. Me and Linda cooked it up, plus it gave us the chance to get to get to know each other better." I told Brandy as we sat around the dinner table.

"You built this table yourself?" Brandy asked, running her hand across the smooth, hard wood.

"Oh, yeah. Just about all the furniture in this house I built. The tables. The beds. The dressers." I said proudly.

"Wow. The most impressive thing any of my mom's boyfriends ever did was change the oil in my car." Brandy said with a laugh.

"What's your mom like?" Linda asked.

"A bitch." Brandy said. "She always had some new guy she was doing. She didn't try and hide it. She was always more worried about looking nice than taking care of me."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Linda said.

"Not your fault." Brandy said. "I was able to get by. She wasn't abusive or anything. She was just... a bitch. Everything I did was wrong if it was up to her. And she had awful taste in men. They would always perv on me. It was gross."

"Well, it'll be much different here." I assured. She just smiled. She looked around the room, and then she looked behind her and saw some pictures of me and Linda. On vacation with friends. She stood and looked at them.

"Oh, these are so cute." Brandy said. "Is this you guys in College?"

"Uh yeah. That was us at graduation." I said. A few weeks after her conception.

"You guys were cuties. But I will say, you two look even better now." Brandy said, glancing back at my wife then me. As she did, her shirt lifted on her back, revealing a tattoo on her lower back.

"You have a tattoo." Linda commented.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I had to be one of the cool kids." Brandy said, lifting the back of her shirt, revealing an ornate design on the small of her back. It looked like some tribal design, the main part on the small of her back, with long dark prongs extending from her lower back towards her hips. "It's tribal. I don't know what it means. And it's not the only one I have." she added, returning to the table, "But it's the only one I can show you." she said with a giggle. I didn't really know how to respond to that, so I just said nothing.

"So what are your plans for the future, Brandy?" Linda asked. She shrugged her shoulders.

"No idea. I'll do something. I won't be a mooch. I promise." Brandy said.

We made conversation for a little while longer. I tried to get a sense of the type of girl my daughter was. She seemed like a sweet girl. If she was as much of a problem as Regina made her out to be I figured I would have seen something by now. But she seemed like a friendly girl who had a rough family life. And I vowed to be the father she never had. She seemed young, sure, and a bit focused on the now as opposed to the future. She had no idea where she wanted to go in life. I hoped to give her some guidance. Turn her into a fine upstanding adult.

I went to bed that night happy. I had a child. That hole in my life was now filled. I had left my mark on this planet. I had someone to carry a part of me forward. I had a beautiful wife. A beautiful daughter. A great home. Life was perfect.

I was happy.

**********

(Linda)

I was conflicted.

Finding out that my husband had a child created many feelings from within me. I was overjoyed to see my husband so happy. I knew how much he wanted a big family, and it ate away at me that I could not be the one that provided that to him. I felt inadequate as a woman and as a wife. I saw the hurt, the sadness in Marcus when he found out I could not bear him children. But I felt the love afterward. When he held me close. When he cried alongside me. When he gave up his dream to have children just to be with me. Nearly 18 wonderful years together. He was with me through the thick and the thin. The good and the bad. He was there when I got my dream job, and he was also there when my parents died. We had grown up together. When we met in College, we were so young. So immature. I was so childish, and moody, and I would freely admit I was a bitch. But Marcus stuck with me. He saw something in me I didn't see in myself. He brought out the best in me. He was a good husband. A good man. He would be the perfect man to grow old with. And... he would be a good father.

That was why I didn't hold a grudge when I found out about Brandy. And that he had sex with Regina in College. Because I didn't deserve a man as good as him. So patient and loyal. And I hurt him. A lot. I couldn't hold a grudge because I created this problem. I had been bitchy. I had been demanding. I took advantage of my husband's good nature. I had driven him away, into the arms of another woman. But he felt bad. He took me back. And now the shoe was on the other foot, so I returned the favor. I took him back.

I had moved on. Marcus had made me a better woman. I stopped seeing so bitchy. I calmed down. I straightened up and flew right. And I loved Marcus as much as ever. And he loved me. And even though I couldn't bear children, I didn't let that get me down. I still was in pretty good shape. We had a good sex life. Marcus was always a stud in bed, and I always enjoyed trying to keep up. He had a nice big dick, nice and thick and 10 inches. That was part of the reason I realized I couldn't have kids. Cause I figured, with a dick that big, a dick built to get so deep inside a girl, it was designed to impregnate. And when I didn't get pregnant, I knew something was up.

And I knew he found me still attractive because he always wanted some of me. He was always game to get down to business with me. I was still pretty thin, and I had a bit of a big butt. That comes with age. But Marcus liked it very much. And he always loved playing with my petite, B-cup breasts. And I only saw a few wrinkles when I looked in the mirror. My brown hair still looked good, and my face was still pretty. I was happy with how I looked.

But having this young girl in my house, my husband's daughter, got me down. My earlier flaws had created this situation. Brandy was the personification of all my failures. She was here because I used to be a bitch. She was here cause I mistreated Marcus. And knowing that my husband had created a child with another woman made me fume with jealously. My husband and some whore had a baby! Having a child is one of the most intimate and important acts two people can do. And my husband had taken a part in this act... with someone else. A girl, who by all accounts was a terrible person, a giant whore. Regina didn't deserve the blessing. She didn't deserve to carry Marcus's child. She didn't deserve to be so fertile. But this slut was able to do something with my true love that I was not. She bore him a child. They were bonded forever. Their genes would live on. Mine would not.

I teared up as I slept, right next to my sleeping husband. My peacefully sleeping husband. It was easy for him to be happy. He had a child now. I wanted a child too, but I couldn't. I had never felt so inadequate.

I didn't know what to make of Brandy. She was very... coy. I got the impression she was hiding something. Maybe it was what Marcus told me Regina said, but I felt like she was putting up a bit of a front. Like we had yet to meet the real her. She seemed nice. She seemed sweet. Seemed. But I could tell she had a dark side. She had a tramp stamp, and that was a sign that what Regina had said was true. That being a slut ran in the bloodline. That I would have to keep an eye on her. But I didn't want to be too quick to judge. I wanted to give her a chance. But still.

I was conflicted.

***********

(Brandy)

I was horny.

I had unpacked my things and arranged my room how I liked it. Now I lied on my bed, all alone. And I could not hide from the fact that I was desperate to cum.

It would be hard to grow up alongside a slut like my mom and not inherit some of her characteristics. Sure, she was a bitch, and sure she was not fun to live with, and sure it felt like she had it in for me, but I could admire some aspects of her. That she had maintained her looks. Her body. Those were the things I was happiest to inherit from her. Her striking good looks, and her sizable chest.

I honestly think the reason she didn't want me in the house was that she was threatened by me. I was a younger, hotter, bustier version of her. I had taken her admittedly excellent genes, and a healthy scoop of my father's equally excellent genes and become a superior version of my mother. I was younger. I was hotter. I had better hair. Smoother skin. A fuller, rounder ass. Bigger breasts, easily a cup size bigger than hers. So it was no surprise a woman like her felt threatened by me. Mom quickly realized if an old slut like her wanted to be viewed as hot, she needed me out the door. If she didn't want her boyfriends to pay attention to me instead of her, I needed to be gone. I couldn't blame her. If there was someone hotter than me living under the same roof as I, I would want them gone too. But that would never happen, because I had never met anyone hotter than me.

I was a whore. I had no shame admitting that. It would be easy to do a self analysis to figure out why. I never had a father figure in my life, so I was desperate to find the company of men. It wasn't my fault I was a slut. It was Mom's, for not letting my dad into my life. It was her fault I lost my virginity at 13. It was her fault I let three seniors on the football team run a train on me my freshman year of high school. It was her fault I was a cock-sucking queen. It was her fault I first took it in the ass when I was 16. It was her fault that I liked it. It was her fault I got gangbanged by three black guys my junior year. It was her fault that I could flirt my way into any bar and club. It was her fault that I wore such tight clothes. It was her fault I wore such low cut shirts. It was her fault I loved showing off my huge, juicy tits. It was her fault I let so many boys taste my sweet pussy. It was her fault that all the boys said that "Brandy tastes like candy". It was her fault that I kinda did. It was her fault I thought it would be hot to tattoo the word candy on my right ass cheek. It was her fault I had I decided to tattoo a bright red lollipop right above my bare pussy. It was her fault I was into older men.