A Swiftly Changing World

"No," Polly blurted out, "You can't knock it if you don't try it."

She might've well as knocked me out of my socks with a feather. I stared at her blankly, at a complete and total loss for words. The fucked up thing is that, at the end of the day, she was right.

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The ride home was pretty much the same as the ride to my brother's house, mostly uneventful and filled with thoughtful silence, until about the halfway mark.

"So... Mom knows, huh?" Emily said abruptly.

I gripped the steering wheel tightly, once again reminded of the fact that I hadn't called her yet to tell her that I'd come home early. "Yeah, it appears so."

"And she approves?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I don't really know, honey. Your uncle said that she respected their decision and that she tried to help them figure out a way to tell me about it, but he didn't really say if she approved or not."

"Hmm," Emily said sagely and then fell silent. A mile later, she piped up with, "I'll bet she does."

"What makes you think that?" I asked awkwardly, not entirely certain that I wanted to know.

"Well, I'm not an idiot and I'm not deaf, okay?"

"Okaaaay," I replied cautiously. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, Polly said that they told Mom the truth about a month ago, right? And I seem to recall that, just around that time, Mom was jumping your bones like crazy when you guys thought I was asleep. I mean, I don't mean to pry, Dad, but... well... I know that you guys still do it an' all. And it's been kinda regular over the last few years. I mean, just from what I've heard. I don't know what you guys do when I'm not home, so I could be dead wrong. But, like, I remember, about a month ago, when Mom kinda sorta jumped all over you every chance she got and, uhm... wasn't really quiet about it, either, like she wanted to make enough noise for me to hear or something, y'know?"

The news that my daughter was so keenly aware of my sex life was more than a little disturbing, but the real sad fact was that she was absolutely right. At just around the same time Jess had been told about my brother's incestuous activities, her libido seemed to skip the dial right past ten all the way up to fifteen. Sex with my wife had always been good, but never had I seen her so easily turned on at the drop of a hat, not even when we were newlyweds, and that point in our marriage was by no means dull. As fucked up as it seems, my daughter's astute observation of the facts did indeed make it apparent that Jess not only approved of my brother's choice, but wanted to get our daughter's attention, too. During that period she did an awful lot of talking, extremely loud moaning and more than her fair share of aggressive fucking, more so than I'd expected from her. At the time I was dumb enough to not really question her sudden appeal for sex, but now that Emily had said it, the evidence seemed to fit the facts admirably.

And then, completely out of the blue, I recalled one of our escapades during that time. Specifically, I remember Jess trying her hand at a bit of role-playing. At first it weirded me out, but I tried to roll with it, if only just to make her happy. She kept calling me "bro" and referring to herself as "Sissy." I didn't find it jarring enough to argue the point that she and I aren't siblings, so I just kept pounding her as hard as she told me to. "Fuck Sissy's pussy hard, bro!" she'd said a few times. "You like that? You like fucking your little sister's cunt, huh?" All I could think to say when she said those kinds of things was, "Oh, yeah, baby. Yes!" God, I'm a fucking retard sometimes. Typical fucking male: once the dick goes in, the brain shorts out and all bets are off.

"Holy shit," I muttered, "I think you're right."

"So where does that leave us?" For an eighteen-year-old girl Emily can ask some pretty damned sagacious questions sometimes.

I shook my head, pushed the gas pedal a little harder and said, "Right now, I-95 and Westminster."

"Have you spoken to her yet, Dad?"

I chanced a glance at my daughter, not sure if that was a loaded question or not. "No, I haven't." I reached into my hip pocket, withdrew my cell phone and handed it to her. "Go ahead. Now's as good a time as any. Just press send, it's the last number I called."

She held the phone to her ear for a moment and then said, "Mom? Hi. Yeah, he is. Came in earlier today. No, we're in the car. Oh, uhm... no, we just left Uncle Sam's house. Polly's there. Yeah, she seemed like it. Uhm, Mom? Can you hold on a sec? Thanks." She looked at me as she covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "Well? Should I tell her that we know?"

I took a deep breath as I kept my focus on the traffic in front of me. I let it out and sighed, "Yeah. Sure."

"Yeah, hi, Mom? Yeah, uhm... listen, Mom, Uncle Sam told us about Polly. Yeah. About her job in LA. Yeah, it's kinda cool, I think. But, Mom, well... we know about the rest of it, too. No. I kinda found out about her on my own and Dad caught me watching one of her videos." At that I heard a fair bit of squawking from my wife's end, which brought a small smile to my face. Sometimes I really dig it when my daughter rats herself out- saves me a whole lotta work. "Yes, Mom, I know. I know! Okay, no, I didn't know that. No. Uh... no, in Dad's office. Uhm, at a store. With a friend. A boy." More loud squawking, much to my delight. "Sorry, Mom. Yeah, he went apeshit. I'm grounded for, like, I dunno how long, he didn't say. No, he's driving. You know how he is about driving and talking on the phone at the same time. Yes, I know, I'm sorry. Listen... when I was over at Uncle Sam's, Polly and I were talking about this and, well, it seems to them that this is perfect, y'know? Like, how ya'll were trying to figure out how to tell Dad and stuff? Well, this kinda did the trick, didn't it? Yeah, I know and I said I'm sorry, like, a million times already and I MEAN it, but... Mom, I did it and I can't take it back, can I? No. So... uhm... putting my fuck-up aside, Mom, I'm really calling to find out... uhm... when you talked with Uncle Sam about all this, uh... what was your reaction?"

I took our exit ramp, my ears raptly attentive to the soft warbling that came out of the cell phone which was pressed tightly to my daughter's ear. I wanted desperately to yank it away from her and hear what my wife had to say, but I DID have this sort of personal thing about talking on the cell phone and driving at the same time- I personally feel that it's just about the most dangerous and stupid thing a person can do short of driving drunk. I don't do it unless it's a real emergency. If someone calls, that's what I have voicemail for, y'know?

Emily's conversation with her mother went on. "Really? You did?!? Oh, wow, Mom, I had no idea! WOW! He doesn't? Oh, shit, Mom... uhm... don't you think that's something you should tell him? What? Are you crazy? I can't do that! No way! Oh. Oooooh. Wow. Really? You think so?" Out of the corner of my eye I could tell that she was looking at me in some way which, had I been fully aware of it, should probably have made me more nervous than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. "Whoa, Mom. Are you absolutely... SURE? Oh my God. He DID? So you don't mind it? That's just... that's amazing. No, Mom. No. Well, yeah, I guess so, sure. Uh... heheh, yeah. Well, I think that, after today, it's anyone's guess, really. No. Yeah. Oh, yeahhhh. I forgot about that, good point. Well, we're almost home now, Mom, I think I should go. Yeah, I love you, too. I will. Yes. Yeees, I know. I promise. Okay. Love you, too. Bye."

Emily turned my cell phone off and placed it inside her knapsack. "Mom says she loves you. So," she said conversationally, "do you want the full version or the Cliff Notes version?"

"Fifty words or less will do," I answered stiffly.

"Okaaaay. She approves of incest. She fucked granddad, like, tons of times before she met you. And she wants me to fuck you, or you to fuck me, whichever works best, but I'd rather you fuck me, if it's all the same to you, Dad. Oh, and she's really pissed that I disobeyed the rules, too."

I marvel at the way my daughter is able to take the facts so well in stride. It's definitely a trait she inherited from me. Unfortunately, however, the limits of my mind had been fully taxed by the day's events. I was still unable to completely expunge the mental image of my daughter's shaven pussy stuffed with Ricky-boy's penis and having her tell me, in no uncertain terms, that she wanted me to have sex with her just about did me in.

I pulled over to the side of the road then and there. When the car came to a full stop, I just stared at my daughter for a long time. Her bright blue eyes stared back at me, as though she were looking into my head and trying to decipher its contents. To this day, I'm not really sure if I was thinking or if I was simply too stunned to have any coherent thoughts.

"Well?" she asked.

I continued to stare at her.

"Dad? Hello? Earth to Dad? Simple question here. Fuck me or not?" Still I said nothing. Emily huffed out a big sigh, rolled those blue eyes of hers and went on. "Okay. We've got two weeks till Mom comes home, so we can do it all we want, just you and me. Like I said before, Dad, I'm not an idiot. I know how you've been staring at me since I was, like, sixteen, okay? I know you think I'm pretty and I know you love me. Now, what you don't know is that, aside from the fact that you're my dad, I think you're pretty hot, okay? Not Tom Cruise hot, but hot in a very cool way. So, yeah. If it was up to me, yeah, I'd fuck you, okay? God, I've masturbated at least a million times while you and Mom were going at it, wishing that it was me and Mom's just told me, word for word, 'If you want to have sex with your dad, it's okay by me. I can't throw stones when I live in a glass house and Lord knows I've fucked my own father more times than I can count long before I ever met your father.' Direct quote. So I'm asking you, Dad: do you want to have sex with me, your daughter? Yes or no?"

And then the words just came out, way beyond anything I could possibly control even if I had wanted to, which I didn't. "What the fuck. Yes, Emily. As soon as we get home, your father is going to fuck you silly and sideways."

"Promise?"

"Sideways, upside down, doggy-style, reverse cowgirl... oh, shit, honey, the moment I saw you with that boy earlier today, I was ready to rip his head off, not because he was fucking you but because he'd gotten to you before I could. There. I said it. Yes, I've watched you since you started growing those-" I indicated her bountiful breasts. "-and, right now, I just don't think I have anything left in me to say no. God help me, I might regret it tomorrow, but tonight your cute little ass is mine!" With that, I grabbed the steering wheel and, swear to God, floored the gas pedal through our bucolic little Rhode Island neighborhood, speed limits be damned.

Emily just stared ahead, her eyes eating up the road almost as fast as the wheels of my car, and said, "Oh, this is gonna be SO fucking cool!"

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By the time we got to the house I'd had a few moments to collect my wits. Did I really want to have sex with my daughter? I couldn't deny it. Yes, I did. But so much had changed for me in that single night. Could it be possible that I was simply getting caught up in all the craziness? Okay. One could make the point that everything had not changed in that night, but that I had only become aware of changes which had occurred over a long period of time and in the past. But it was all still so damned new to me. Was I making the right choice, as a father? I highly doubt that society at large would see me as a candidate for Father of the Year, but in this day and age it's almost impossible to say that any family is "normal." Every household has its exceptions and unique situations. But it still boiled down, for me, to whether or not my promise to have sex with my daughter was in her best interests or mine. Who was I trying to gratify here- her or me? And there was the issue of my wife, who'd given explicit approval for this unlawful coupling.

When we were stopped at the side of the road I was ready and more than willing to follow through with my promise, but now I was having second thoughts. Now I was wondering if I'd be making a mistake. As a man and husband, I still couldn't reconcile the fact that I was about to cheat on my wife, even though Emily had told me that I'd been given permission to do this. So when I shut off the engine I decided to hold out for a little bit longer, if only to actually hear my wife say what she'd told our daughter. Yes. That was it. I needed to hear directly from the source that what Emily and I were planning to do was truly approved of.

Emily swung open her door to get out and said, "I'm gonna go in and change into something more comfortable. You comin', Dad?"

My hands were still on the steering wheel, the seatbelt still fastened. I looked at her slowly and said, "I... I think I need to speak to Jessica, honey. Things are moving extremely fast for me and I need to... slow down and talk some things out first. I'm not breaking my promise, sweetheart, but... I just need some time to adjust. Okay?"

My daughter took a deep breath and eyed me pensively for a moment before she said, "Okay, yeah. I can understand that. Uhm... when you call Mom, is it okay if I listen in?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "At this point I seriously doubt that you'll hear anything surprising, so sure, you can listen in."

A few minutes later I was in the master bathroom, taking a hard at myself in the mirror. "This is major," I told my reflection. "I mean, really, really major. If you do this, you can't go back and undo it. You understand that, buddy-boy? The whole fucking ballgame is gonna change and there are no do-overs." My reflection said nothing back at me as I studied my face scrupulously, scrutinizing every line for some hint of a reason why I shouldn't go through with this.

Emily's voice came from the door of the master bedroom. "Dad? You in here?"

I paused for just a heartbeat, taking a last glimpse at my features in the mirror before answering, "Yes, honey. I'm here. Come on in. I'll be right out." I turned on the faucet and quickly splashed some cold water on my face. Once I had dried myself off, I opened the bathroom door and looked into the bedroom. Emily lay on her side, in her mother's spot on the bed she was conceived on, her long brown hair haphazardly scattered on my wife's pillow. She was wearing a very revealing piece of lingerie, a cream-colored nightie that opened from the front like a sheer robe, which showed off her cleavage admirably. Underneath the nightie were a matching set of bodice and panties, which were also almost see-through. In the light of the room I could see the slight bulge of her mound, just a hint of it, and her areolas were quasi-visible, too. Her head was resting on her hand, her elbow dug into the mattress to support the weight, and her left leg was bent and crossed over her right in a seductive manner.

"I ordered pizza," she told me with a sly smile on her face. "We haven't eaten yet and I figure if we're going to do this, it's best to do it on a full stomach." She paused to really look at me and asked with genuine concern, "Are you okay, Dad?"

I blinked a few times and then found my voice. "Oh, uh, yeah, honey. I'm just... wow, you look beautiful."

At that she positively glowed, looking more like a full-grown adult woman rather than the hot and horny teenage girl she was. "Why, thank you, Daddy."

"You're more than welcome, Em." I took a seat on my side of the bed and looked down at her. God, I wanted to attack her right then and there, but my misgivings still bubbled around inside me. I didn't want to rush things. "So... what kind of pizza did you order?"

"A large with all the meats, light sauce, just the way you like it."

I cocked a surprised eyebrow at her. "You've been paying attention, eh?"

She cast an almost scornful look at me. "I've been living with you all my life, Dad. You'd think that, after eighteen years, I'd learn a few things about you here and there."

"Good point," I conceded. "So how long did they say it'd take to get here?"

"About thirty minutes. Apparently it's a slow night."

I nodded and picked up the phone. "Good," I said. "That should give us enough time to have a more... complete conversation with your mother." I dug out her phone number from my back pocket and dialed.

A moment later my wife's voice came over the line from somewhere in Chicago. "Hello?"

"Hi, honey," I said. "We're home now. I'm putting you on speakerphone." I tapped the speaker button on the phone base and put the phone back in its cradle. "Jess, before any of us does something we might regret later, I wanted to talk this out with you first."

"Mm-hm," my wife replied. "So you put me on speakerphone, which I guess means that this is going to be a family discussion, yes?"

"Well, I figured that keeping our daughter in the dark about any of this would be a moot point."

"Hi, Mom!" Emily piped in. "Dad's got cold feet."

My wife chuckled and said, "Well, can you blame him, honey? I doubt that he woke up today thinking, 'Hey! I'm gonna catch my daughter watching her cousin on a porn tape, find out that my brother's entire family is fucking each other, then learn that my wife has had sex with her father and THEN be told that it's okay to do the same with my own little girl.' Give the man a break, Emily. He's older than you, which means he's had more time to develop lots more hang-ups."

"Hey!" I protested. "I'll have you know that my hang-ups are just fine, thank you. And I'm not necessarily hung on this particular thing. It's just... I wanted to make sure that we're all on the same page here. Okay?"

"What's to discuss, Dad? I thought we went through all that in the car. Sex with me, yes or no?"

I ran my fingers through my hair, mildly noting that if I kept it up I'd probably end up bald by the end of the night. Which would have been a tragedy since I kind of prided myself on having a full head of hair at this stage in my life. I heaved a great sigh. "I wish it was that simple, sweetheart."

"Well, Duncan," my wife said, "it kind of is. What more do you need, honey? A map and instructions? I thought I made it pretty clear: I won't be a hypocrite. I screwed Dad. Who am I to throw stones if our daughter wants to do the same thing?"

"But that's just the thing, Jess!" I answered. "I am, officially, the very last one to know about all of this stuff. Your dad, Sam's family, Polly's career... everyone else has had more time to adjust to this than me!"

"Whoa!" Emily butted in. "That's not entirely true, Dad. Yeah, I found out about all of this stuff before you, but that was only by a few hours, tops. And I learned about Uncle Sam and the incest stuff the same time you did. Remember?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "Well, it's different with me."

Both my daughter and my wife asked at the same time: "How?"

"Well, for starters, you're a teenage girl. I've yet to meet a teenager, boy or girl, who doesn't have sex on the brain at least once in every waking hour."

Em grimaced at that, chagrined. "Good point."

"It's a hell of a good point," I said. "Listen, honey, taboo things for the teenaged mind... well, they kind of don't exist. I mean, intellectually, I'm sure, some things are simply not done. But when it comes to sex you're all at least willing to entertain the notion of something new, even if you aren't ready to try it. I mean, why on Earth would you want to have sex with me in the first place? What's so different now than from last week?"