Dad's The Man Ch. 15

"Does kitten want me to make her cum like a slutty little whore?"

"Ohh, god, yesss, ppleeeeease!"

"Ask me."

"Auntie, pl- oooh! --please make me,... cummm!"

" ... Call me 'Mummy', sweetie."

She expertly played miffy as Gina straddled my face and I cried, Ooooh, Mummy, please make me cum like a dirty little whore!?"

Well, the fact is that if any woman was a mother to me, it would be her. Why not? Plus, I know Gina loves it, not just for kinky reasons, but because in her mind, this makes us closer to being sisters. In her mind, this completes our little family and her place in it.

I can see the value in that, too. I think we all can because, in one way or another, the four of us lacked this family connection in our lives before we all got together, even Daddy and I in our own isolation. Moreover, Peggy is the perfect second authority in the house and completes us in the way only a mother can complete a proper family. It's pretty incredible, when I really think of how it all came together.

And she did make me cum, too. Twice, in fact. After Gina orgasmed on my face, Peggy pulled her off me, her green eyed, adoptive daughter half limp in the afterglow of her climax, to lay her down beside me on the bed. I watched, still in my own post orgasmic stupor as Peggy smiled warmly at wide eyed, beautiful Gina and lovingly whispered, "Witchy girl,..." as she spread her legs and then went down on her.

For a woman who wasn't into girls, she certainly seemed to me making out okay, if you'll excuse the pun. Of course, she said she was tempted to join Paul and Sheila and she didn't have a very high opinion of Paul,... There's also the possibility that it's something that adds excitement she feels has been missing in her life.

Whatever the reason, I'm not complaining and I didn't then. I went to move and remembered my jeans and panties were at my knees, so I had to push them off before I could help Peggy ravage Gina.

Aug. 17/10

I've been looking back over some of the entries in this file and, wow, what a little experience. The things I'd kind of forgotten about in the hustle and bustle of everything were all there in detail.

I got to thinking about it today, this being the family's one year anniversary in addition to Gina's pregnancy celebration. She and I sometimes think back and, admittedly, feel pretty proud of ourselves for the hand we each took in shaping things, but to read my own feelings through my written words of the time was completely enthralling.

We had a good day out at our new pool and Mummy even convinced Daddy to wear a gold, semi translucent G-string! Oh my god, I have no idea how she made him do it, but he did and it was sooo nice, watching his package jounce and wobble as he came out back, all red faced.

Within the tall privacy fencing, we three whistled and cat-called mercilessly and started cheering when it made him hard, his equipment literally bursting from the small front panel of his 'underwear'.

Of course, we jumped him then and there, pulling him down to the decking to have our way with him.

And he is most definitely a happy Man, as happy as Mummy is. That is, at least, when she's not ragging him out for something like his continued, improper and unsafe use of ladders, which I warned her about very early on. Of course, if she catches him in that mood, he'll slamfuck her happy again pretty quick, even tell her to go back to what she was doing with the back of her slacks torn wide open when he's done with her. Yeah, I love seeing that, especially when Gina runs in, screaming and shouting at him to stop 'hurting Mum'. Yummy, I get turned on just thinking about it.

We're all happy: happy and busy, enjoying our lives and each other, expecting a new life in less than a year and working productively towards many happy tomorrows.

As I read back to when Mummy first joined us, it seems hard to believe somehow that it hasn't been more than a year. It seems more like two or three, especially in terms of the work we've accomplished here and at the other, house, now a two unit rental. At times, it was even like reading the account of someone else's life, like when I was uselessly distracted by where Sheila was and what she was up to. I was, in a way, relieved to read on and find that I'd put that all behind me and that's when I realized that I had. Yes, I just noticed that today!

It's true, too. I couldn't care less where she is, she doesn't matter anymore. Besides, Mummy told me a bunch of stories and the more I heard, the less I needed to. She rarely gets mentioned now and it's for the best.

Well, I don't need to compare myself to her. It doesn't matter what she would do in some of the situations that I find and have found myself in, no matter how much like her I am. I'm not Sheila Burchell's ghost, I'm Kathleen Hale, my own young woman and my place is in the moment with the three people I love, just like my Daddy taught me.

End