1.) Jennifer's Learning Curves

The next few days became a whirlwind of second guesses, confusion, and reorganization of what I thought I knew, what I definitely knew, and what I didn't know...yet.

Jennifer, I now realized, was not the perfect, honest, faithful, carefree, and innocent young woman I'd raised all by myself. She was sharp, calculating, deceptive, dishonest, secretive, and driven by something I hadn't figured out yet. Our incestuous couplings were a constant point of tension, but one that was quickly being dispelled, as Jennifer had taken to teasing me, touching me, and groping me, every chance she got. It was like having the Double-Mint twins in the house and while I wasn't averse to having a pair of twins in my bed, the fact that Jennifer was my daughter still weighed heavily on my mind.

Mackenzie, somehow, had become less crazy and more subdued, as if she were trying to make things right with me. I didn't know why unless she'd taken my words and warnings to heart. Or maybe she finally realized I was the stand-up, honest, and protective person I portrayed myself as. Albeit, one who was having sex with his daughter's friend, and his daughter as well.

Jennifer continued to make comments about things that caught me off guard, until I stopped, and realized for the umpteenth time, that it had been she, in my bed, and not Mackenzie. My little whore. My fuck slut. My cum dumpster. My Daughter. When I re-visualized what had happened, I had to come to terms with it. We'd done it. Everything in the book, almost. And not only did I like it. I loved it. The way she felt, her body, her sex, the way she smiled at me, her lips, her mind. She was wrapping herself around me in every way possible, and I was wrapped around her pinky as well.

Mackenzie must have realized this too, and while less outspoken and less compromising, she had begun doing nice things for me, fluffing my pillow, and coming to sit on my lap when Jennifer wasn't doing the same thing. I currently sat in my recliner, a fresh cup of coffee in my right hand, and my left hand wrapped around Mackenzie's waist. Mackenzie. Was that even her name? I added that to my list of questions I needed to ask, but that would wait for our pow-wow.

We'd decided that every couple of days, before dinner, we would have a "family discussion". This involved all three of us sitting down at the dining room table, and being quite serious, open, and honest with each other. We were all allowed two questions which we were obligated to answer, but the degree of detail varied. We also made a rule that you couldn't give a one-word answer. It had to have a few details unless there weren't any details.

This pow-wow, as well as several other rules, had been instituted. A hierarchy was defined. I, being the oldest, was put at the top. While I didn't choose this, both the girls did, I didn't argue. Jennifer was next, and Mackenzie was last. Rules were made about eating food and leaving your empty snack wrappers and chip bags everywhere. This applied mostly to Mackenzie, but it could apply to me or Jennifer as well.

Aside from general household chores and assigning of tasks that had to get done, like changing the sheets, washing the clothes, and doing the dishes, we all agreed we would, all three of us, Mackenzie included, have jobs. I was due back to work on Friday, and my boss decided he didn't care if a tsunami was due to hit, he wanted everyone back at work, no excuses.

Kendra had called my cell phone to deliver the good news and had then asked me if I'd given the note any thoughts. I told her I had, although, I hadn't, and she seemed placated for the time. Right before I hung up, she asked if I liked cherry pie, which I thought was unusual. When I asked why, she said she had made one, but being single, she wouldn't be able to eat it all by herself. It was then that she asked me if I could come over, sometime soon, before the pie went bad.

In a hurry to get off the phone, I said "Sure. Sounds like fun," and Kendra made the comment that she would make sure it was. Only after I hung up, did I realize what I'd done, but I had little time to dwell on it. There were bigger fish to fry.

"So," I said, lifting my chin to address Mackenzie. "Uh, I have a question for you."

"Okay," Mackenzie said, leaning back against me, and pushing the chair back. I reached out and set my coffee down, right before I would have dumped it, and grabbed the armrest to keep from tipping backward.

"You gotta give me a warning," I said, slowly letting go. "You do that every time. You're going to flip the chair over."

"Sorry," Mackenzie said, snuggling in beside me. As soon as she was comfortable, she turned her dark exotic eyes up at me and asked, "What's up?"

"Brody," I said.

"Okay," she replied flatly.

"He said some things," I said regretfully.

"He made you worry," Mackenzie said, a hard edge in her voice.

"No. Not worry. He tried to make me worry, but I wasn't feeding into it."

"You said he's family?"

I sucked in a deep breath and then let it out. "He was family when Jennifer's mom was still in the picture. When she left, I asked everyone for help finding her. Everyone. Including him. He said he tried but, you know."

"It didn't feel like it," Mackenzie said.

"No. What it felt like was, she left, and she asked everyone else to stay quiet about where she was going, and why."

"Did you ever find out?" Mackenzie asked.

"Yeah. And no thanks to them. I got a letter in the mail with a picture. I guess she wanted to send me proof she was still alive.... Proof she wrote the letter."

"What did it say?" Mackenzie asked.

"All she said was, she had to go. She told me to not worry and to take care of Jennifer, and that was it."

"That's it? Seriously?"

"Yeah," I said, my voice getting froggy at the end.

"That's fucked up," Mackenzie said. "You wanna hear something even more fucked up?"

"Sure," I said, and she grabbed my hand in hers and held it for a moment as if preparing me for something really bad.

"My mom, my real mom, isn't even my real mom," she said hesitantly. I looked up at her, a sympathetic expression on my face.

"Who is she then?" I asked.

"Uhhh, I guess just some woman who couldn't have kids of her own."

"What?" I asked.

"She uh, my real mommy, I guess she got into some trouble. Got pregnant with me, and couldn't keep me. So...my mom...is not my real mom."

"The drug addict?" I asked.

"Yeah. She's not my mom."

"Wait... Is your mom your aunt?"

"No Papi! It's complicated," Mackenzie said.

"I'm listening," I said softly, squeezing her hand.

"You always think you can rely on family, and then they fuck you over."

"You can rely on me and Jennifer," I said.

"I know," Mackenzie replied, her thumb running back and forth the skin between my thumb and pointer finger. "So, my mom gave me up. My aunt adopted me. And then my auntie gave me away to someone else.

"Why?" I asked.

"I don't know," Mackenzie said. "I told you this was fucked up. I lived with this guy for, like, two years. I don't remember much."

"Was he a drug dealer?" I asked.

"I don't know. He just took care of me I guess."

"Okay," I said softly.

"I moved around a lot. I ended up with a couple who, I guess, couldn't have kids. So I was their answer to that."

"That's fucked up," I said.

"Yeah," Mackenzie agreed.

"Sounds like you were adopted," I said.

"I guess," Mackenzie said. "You know, neither one of them ever admitted it."

"That...that's messed up," I said.

"Yeah, well...everyone has problems," Mackenzie said as if she didn't care.

"So, do you know who your real mother is? Have you tried finding out?"

"My aunt knows. She's the only person who kept in touch with me."

"Where does she live?" I asked.

"Brazil," Mackenzie replied easily. "Auntie Helena, Colorado Springs, Colorado."

I chuckled. "That's here in the USA."

"It's a forwarding box. I send mail there, and it goes to my aunt, and then she sends mail back to me. There's never a return address on it, so...all I know is she lives in Brazil."

"Wow," I said, shaking my head.

"Yeah," Mackenzie said, resting her head against mine. "I'm a grown-ass woman, and I've never even met my moms."

"Is Mackenzie your real name?" I asked.

"What?"

"I don't know," I said, completely embarrassed by my question. "Maybe uh, Maybe your aunt knows something you don't."

"No. Brody knows something you don't," Mackenzie said, sliding forward, and then standing up, which sent my chair rocketing forward.

"Mack. Mackenzie. Stop. I just wanted to know. It's not a big deal. If you say your name is Mack, then it's Mack. It's a nice name. I'm fine with it. I just wanted to know."

"It's Michellet. Like, Mish-fish-fillet. I hate it. Some fucking stupid French name."

"French?"

"Yeah. My dick head sperm donor stuck around just long enough to give me a name and then left. So I'm half-French, half-Brazillian, one hundred percent, mutt."

"You're not a mutt," I said quickly.

"Who's not a slut?" Jennifer asked, striding across the room in a tiny crop-top t-shirt and barely-there panties. She was working an ear cleaner into her right ear, and her hair was wrapped up inside a towel, making her head look like a bee hive.

"Not me," Mackenzie said, stepping past her and leaving the room.

"What's gotten into her?" Jennifer asked and then raised an eyebrow at me. "You weren't fucking, were you?"

"No," I said, shaking my head, tired of the constant references to sex. Sex, which had been something I had rarely engaged in since, well, before Jennifer's mother had left us, was now the topic of almost every discussion. Not only that, but it was like both Mackenzie and Jennifer had some sort of competition going on, seeing who could make the most sexual innuendos, or ask if the other had just gotten done doing something with me.

"Well, excuse me," Jennifer said, sitting down on the couch and leaning back, cleaning her other ear out, and then she dropped the ear cleaner in the little trash can I kept by my chair and sighed.

"I have to be back at work on Friday," I said softly.

"Oh? They called?"

"Yeah," I said. "Kendra did."

"Kendra..." Jennifer's lips went from full and pouty, to thin and restrained. "Yeah, I don't like that."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Kendra, having your phone number," Jennifer said.

"She's my boss," I said with a smirk.

"She's not your boss. She's your Boss's daughter. She's what? Five years older than I am? If that?"

"And?" I asked.

Jennifer folded her arms across her chest, lifting her breasts and holding them tight. "Nothing."

"That's right," I said, nodding.

"It better be," Jennifer said.

I let my jaw fall open and then slowly closed it, and reclined my chair again.

"I...I'm not...telling you want to do."

"Uh-huh," I said, grabbing my coffee and taking a nice big gulp.

"The two of us aren't enough for you?" Jennifer asked.

I shook my head again. I hadn't asked for this. None of it. I hadn't gone out and hit on Mackenzie, and then invited her back to the house to meet my daughter, have a nice dinner, relax, and let things develop naturally. Nuh-uh. Nope. Instead, My daughter brought home her "friend", someone who I'd never met before, and now...now I suspected everything. Every little thing that had happened, from the very start, seemed orchestrated.

"I need to go into town," Jennifer said, grabbing the towel on her head and twisting it before pulling her hair out of it.

"Today?" I asked.

"It stopped snowing," Jennifer said cheerfully.

"The power is still out. Nothing is open. I don't even know why I'm going on Friday, but I am. I expect that Friday might be the first day anything is open, and it might just be the machine shop!"

"The Chugg and Pump is open," Jennifer said with a smirk.

"Don't get me started," I said.

"Well, if you're not willing to go, I'll take Mack with me."

The words "Where did she go," had almost begun to form on my lips, when I heard the gentle sound of water running in the bathroom. "Is she in the bathroom?" I asked.

"Sounds like it," Jennifer said.

"Didn't you just get out of the shower?"

"I don't know," Jennifer said, standing up and pulling the front of her panties down, flashing me. "What do you think?"

I stuck my tongue in my cheek and looked away, but my cock betrayed me and pulsed like a futuristic beacon, foretelling the rising of the beast.

"You wanna feel it?" she said slyly, raising an eyebrow at me and then biting her bottom lip teasingly. I slowly shook my head, but Jennifer came over and slid onto my lap, as Mackenzie had done that very first night. Her hands cupped my cheeks, and she slowly caressed my jawline, and then slid her fingers into my hair and around my ears. I looked up at her then, unable to resist, and her nose twinkled, the corners of her mouth curled up. "You can touch me, Daddy. It's okay. I won't tell."

She had me with the first part, but the last part brought reality crashing back down around me. She might have been an adult, but that comment had been low.

"Daddy," she said as I tried to look away. "Daddy, come on. Look at me." I slowly turned my face back to hers. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I was...trying to be funny."

"I know," I said with another deep sigh.

"Then, relax," she said softly, her fingers going back to working their way through my hair, teasing my earlobes, and stroking the back and sides of my neck. "You like that?" She asked playfully.

"Yes," I said, smiling, and remembering a few massages I'd paid for in the past. This was much better.

'I love getting massages," I said.

"Me too!" Jennifer said. "Like, one time, I thought about asking for a massage for my 21st. birthday. That's how much I like them."

"Well," I said, trying to think of a way to ask if she wanted a massage now.

"Can I ask you a favor?" Jennifer asked from six inches away. I looked up and caught the scent of her freshly washed hair, and the conditioner that was still heavy within it. She pulled away just a bit. "Don't look so frustrated," she laughed. "I was just going to ask you for a massage."

"I was just going to ask you if you wanted one!" I said, smiling, and then, "I'm not frustrated," I pointed over her shoulder. "I...I just...like the smell....Your hair," I said.

"You do?" she asked, leaning forward. "I like it too," she confessed. "There was this girl at work that I was crushing on, and she smelled just like this. I asked her what made her smell so good, and she told me, Hawaiian ginger. It's called Awapuhi. So I found it at the store and bought a bottle."

"What happened to the girl?" I asked.

"She quit," Jennifer replied.

"That sucks," I said.

"Uh-huh," she said with a wistful smile and combed her fingers through her hair. "You wanna smell it?"

"Sure," I said.

Jennifer leaned forward but then stopped. "Oh, sorry. Wrong side," she said, pulling her hair around the left-hand side of her head and cocking her head in that direction. The right side of her neck was now fully exposed, and the gigantic purple and bluish. green hickey stood out like a beacon. "Don't wanna cover that up," she said.

"You know, it's okay...if you do," I said.

"Why would I want to cover it up?" She asked, her eyes darting back and forth between each of mine, questioning my reasoning.

"No reason," I said. "Just if you don't want people giving you looks," I said in a softer tone.

"If I didn't want looks, I wouldn't have worn that ridiculous skirt out in town yesterday," Jennifer laughed. "Did you see the way Charlie was looking at us?"

"Yes," I said with a chuckle.

"I bet he beat the shit outta his dick as soon as we were gone," Jennifer snorted.

"He was probably already doing it behind the counter while you two were talking to him," I said with a smirk.

"Ewwww! Daddy!" Jennifer laughed even harder, and then she leaned in close and her breasts pressed against my collarbone. "Can you smell it?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, inhaling the scent of her hair. "Uh-huh. It smells good," I said, and Jennifer slowly sat back, smiling.

She glanced behind herself, and then her arms came down and pressed her breasts together, her hands falling to her upper thighs. "So, do you wanna go with me? Or should I take Mack with me?" She asked.

"Where are we going?" I sat there, staring at her plump T-shirt-covered breasts that were just six inches away from my face, and then slowly rotated my view down. I could make out her sex, silhouetted against the sunlight hitting the floor behind her. Her mound was slit like a loaf of butter bread, and within the main slice, was another, showing off her soft silky lips. Her loaf was barely wrapped in a sleeve of insubstantial panties.

"Where did you get those?" I asked quietly.

"What?" Jennifer asked, looking down, and then leaning back and looking down between her breasts to her sex. "I, uh...I picked those up a couple of months ago."

"A couple months ago?" I asked.

"Daddy," Jennifer said, cocking her head at me and giving me a disbelieving look. "I know you think I'm all butterflies and rainbows, thick cotton granny-panties and white wire bras with little flowers on the edges, but...I mean..." She could see the look on my face, and while it wasn't sad, it was somewhat depressed. "Daddy. I'm all grown up," she said. "I still wear my cotton ones when I go to work," she said confiding in me and trying to soothe my heart and my ego. "But when I'm getting ready for bed, I put these on. I've got a bunch of them. A whole slew of different colors and designs."

"If you're just wearing them to bed, why wear anything?" I asked. "Why waste your money on them?"

"It's not a waste if that's what you like," she said.

"What do I like?" I asked.

"Maybe," she said, and she bit her bottom lip again. "Or maybe I just liked laying in bed, pleasuring myself through my panties." My cock jerked against my pants, but it was pointed downward, held in my left pant leg, and it couldn't come up all the way. I smiled. Thank goodness for small miracles.

"And maybe last week I was playing with my pussy, hoping that...maybe you'd be doing the same thing?"

"Thinking of you?" I asked flatly.

"No...not necessarily," Jennifer said. "I...I never thought, oh, I wanna go in there and bone my dad." I smiled at that, somewhat relieved by her statement. "But...I did want you to be happy. I wasn't thinking about you doing something to me, or me doing something to you...but as long as we were both, you know...making ourselves happy at the same time...yeah. That's what... turns me on."

"So you haven't been orchestrating this whole thing from the start?" I asked.

"Orchestrating what?" she asked.

"Mackenzie? Us...doing it."

"No," Jennifer replied immediately. "Nope. That was all on your daddy."

"Not entirely on me," I said and Jennifer seemed to accept my statement as truth. "Did you know what she was like when you brought her home?"

"Fuck no," Jennifer said quickly. "Jesus fuck no."

"You know what she said to me, within minutes of you introducing her to me?"

"No," Jennifer said, a huge grin forming on her lips, and then the grin turned into a wry smile. "What did she say?"

"She asked me when we were going to fuck."

"When?"

"The first night. Like, you said, Hey, this is my friend Mack. And she said, hey, nice to meet you. And then you stepped out of the room, and she asked me that."

"What a fucking whore!"

"Well, I guess but, I never thought of it like that."

"I knew she said she liked older guys," Jennifer said then.

"She did?"

"Well. She warned me. She said, Jen. Is your dad hot? and I said yes, why? And she said, well, I have a thing for older guys, so...if your dad is hot, and your mom isn't giving him any, it's game on baby."