Genes Are a Powerful Force

Philip's son looks like the twin of the neighbor's son

**

Melissa and I married in our twenties. I was 28, and she was 25. We married because I had knocked her up, even though she had been on the pill. (She later admitted having forgotten to take the pill for a few days.) Melissa gave us a beautiful baby boy. A few years later we added an adorable little girl.

Our best friends were, and always had been, Hank and Martha. The four of us were really close, and Martha had a boy almost at the same time as Melissa, and again she gave birth to a little girl around the same time as Melissa did, so all in all, things were copacetic. We all got along swimmingly, and so did the kids.

It was my sister Fran who upset the apple cart when she came to visit one time. Our son Kevin was seven years old, and so too of course was Jason, the son of Hank and Martha.

Fran took me aside. She said, "Philip, Kevin and Jason look like identical twins. It's uncanny!"

That particular day Melissa and Martha had happened to dress the boys the same way, and as they ran around playing together in the garden, it suddenly occurred to me that I could barely tell the two boys apart. I was kind of stunned.

"Do you think...?" I said to Fran.

"It's possible. You knocked up Martha, I assume?" she replied. I shook my head.

"Well, the two boys have a parent in common. There's no question. You sure that it isn't you? It's easy to imagine: Martha looked hypersexy one night seven years ago, and the two of you got drunk, and...?"

"I guess it's possible. There was only the one time, but I really doubt it. I used a condom,"I said.

"I understand how you couldn't have resisted. She likes you, you know," Fran said.

"Of course, she does. The four of us are best friends," I replied.

"She likes you sexually, you moron," Fran said. "Anyway, if you insist you and Martha never got it on, except one time and with a condom, then who is the father of the two boys? Who the mothers are is fairly easy."

I just looked at Fran. The scales were lifting from my eyes. OMG, was it even possible?

"You know your wife and your friend Hank better than I do," she said. "Do you really want to know?"

I then looked at the two girls playing together. They were little, both only four years old, but I'll be damned if they too didn't look like twins!

"I wonder if Martha has ever noticed?" I asked Fran.

"I'm sure she has. Women notice everything. Could you have fathered one or both of her two kids?" Fran replied.

"Me?" I thought I had already answered that question.

"Well, it wasn't me, now, was it?" Fran replied. "Have you and Martha ever, uh, you know..." Fran tried to put it delicately, but ran out of words. "The two of you are, after all, awfully close. I've noticed. It's fairly obvious, anyway."

"No. I've never strayed, other than that one, stupid, time," I said.

"That's what I was afraid of. Do you want my advice?" Fran asked.

I did. She gave me several earfuls of advice.

**

A few days after Fran's visit I arranged to get Martha alone. It wasn't hard to do, since the four of us were such good friends. After the usual banalities, I said:

"You probably want to know what's going on; why I wanted to be alone with you?" I asked.

"No, not really, but given the melodrama in your tone of voice, yes, now I'm curious," Martha replied.

"Well, have you ever noticed how much Jason and Kevin look alike?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, I have. It's not surprising, given they have the same father," she said, and that remark gobsmacked me. Did she really think I had fathered her son? Martha looked startled, and clapped her hand over her mouth. She realized, a little late, that she had spoken out of school.

"You know?" I asked.

"Of course, I know. Hank explained it all. I know your sperm count is low, and of course you and Melissa wanted children, so Hank went to a sperm bank and donated for Melissa. But of course, you know this, right?" Martha said. My sperm count is low? Where in God's green earth did that come from?

"Hank told you that?" I asked.

"Only when I accused him of cheating on me with Melissa. When he and Melissa explained it all to me, well, of course I forgave him. I forgave both of them," she said.

"Thanks, Martha," I said, "I'm glad you know and understand," I said, not wanting to rock her world too much. I really did care for Martha. My cheating wife's world, however, was a different story. Yes, I cheated, one time, too, but it doesn't count for me. Why? Because I make the rules, that's why!

"Of course, it's possible Hank didn't go to a sperm bank, and he knocked up Melissa the old-fashioned way. Sometimes I wonder. Melissa is very pretty and appealing, as I'm sure you, of all people, know. I'm totally jealous of her rack. Hank and her seem to sneak off together at times. Surely, you've noticed? Anyway, what did they tell you?" Martha said.

"They never told me anything. I'm hearing this all for the first time from you," I replied. "Before you ask, I'm fairly sure they made love, and were careless, and then either just before, or right after, Hank and you got together," I said. Bitterness was creeping into my voice as if it were acid reflux. "Melissa does tend to be reckless."

"Oh, my," Martha said. "Oh, my goodness. I'm so sorry, Philip. I mean, I knew of course that Melissa was pregnant when the two of you married. You were both very much in love; I had no idea my own husband Hank was also sleeping with your bride. Are you sure? Well, of course you are, I suppose. My goodness!"

"Say, you want to have some revenge, of the fun type? I find you very attractive, you know," I said. "There is that one time, as precedence, in case you're into English common law and all that."

"And I find you attractive, too," Martha replied. "And you can't make me pregnant I'm told, due to your low sperm count so you wouldn't need to use a rubber this time, now would you?," she said, her eyes twinkling as she spoke. "Don't think I haven't been tempted, and often. But alas, I couldn't do that to Hank. One time was just one of those things that happens. Twice or more is infidelity. Sorry, Philip."

"Just a kiss?" I asked.

"No. Not the kind of kiss you want. I'm terribly sorry. I'd like to, my loins ache for you, and I know it's the symmetric sin to commit, but I just can't do it," Martha said.

"Yes, you're right. Forgive me for being so presumptuous," I said. "We won't speak of it again."

**

I never rush decisions. It's just the way I am. So, I ruminated about the situation. Melissa still loved me, that was obvious, and we both loved the kids which I began to realize were not biologically related to me. From the standpoint of children, there was no good solution to this mess. I could leave Melissa and give her to Hank, so to speak, but then what about Martha and her kids with Hank? It's not as if Hank could have two wives. Also, there's the remote, tiny, chance that I'm the father of both sons. I had to keep reminding myself of that. I knew, though, it was Hank. Both boys even looked like miniature Hanks!

My ego was destroyed and each time I looked at my son Kevin, I got sick to my stomach. This made me sick to my stomach, that looking at my son made me sick to my stomach. I was having indigestion on a meta level. Who needs that?

Both Kevin and Melissa knew something was wrong, but as is the tradition in our family, they gave me space to work things out. They were there for me if I wanted to speak with them or talk things out, but I had to make the first move. It was our family's dynamic.

Martha and I avoided each other, after my faux pas of suggesting we have revenge sex. Martha and Melissa, always as close as thieves, began to drift a little apart, it seemed to me. I began to look at Martha as a sex object, and no longer did I lust for my own wife. I was adjusting, albeit slowly, to the new reality. I'm told that the truth will set me free, but so far it was only giving me acid reflux. I tried buying M&M's, but even the ones with peanuts didn't help. Maalox was better. Best of all was Maalox washed down with rum and M&M's.

Then came the annual trip to the lake, when we two families went to our jointly owned cabin at the lake. This kind of enforced intimacy brought things to a head for me. I suddenly began to notice small things. Hank and Melissa seemed to spend a lot of time together. Martha had stopped avoiding me, and in fact she was being friendly, kind of touchy-feely. She was being even very friendly, if you get my drift.

One evening the four kids fell out early from exhaustion. The four adults sat up and talked and slowly got drunk. It was a hot evening, and Melissa and Hank both went outside to the front porch, one at a time, presumably so as not to be too, too obvious. I told Martha I was going to the back porch, and after a bit Martha joined me out there. I'd guess it was after around ten minutes.

"You were right," she said.

"About what?" I asked.

"Hank and Melissa are making out on the front porch," she said. "Want to sneak around and watch? I know of a good place where we can see them, but they'll never notice us."

I said nothing. I just took another sip of rum; it was good rum, from Barbados. The two of us sat in silence for a while, and I realized this was a chance for me to know. To really know. I said, "Yes. Let's go take a look. Lead on, Martha."

We snuck around and we saw our spouses kissing and groping each other. Hank had rendered Melissa topless, and Melissa was tugging at Hank's pants. They both stood up and undressed. I wanted to vomit at that point, but I kept it together. After a bit Hank spread my wife's legs as she sat on the swinging bench on the front porch, and he inserted his cock, and fucked her, gently at first, and then he slowly picked up the pace. Melissa was breathing hard, not making much noise, so as not to wake the kids and -- especially -- not to alarm the spouses.

I couldn't believe for how long Hank fucked my little wife, the goddam slut. He fucked her, but good! At the end, maybe a good half hour later, they were both sweaty messes. I wanted to charge up there and confront them in flagrante delicto, but Martha wisely held me back. Martha whispered to me, "Now we know. There's no question. No amount of bullshit is going to undo what we just saw. Let's think, though, about how we want to handle it."

I looked at Martha. She looked so sweet and vulnerable right then. She also looked sexy as hell. I've always been a sucker for women who look nervous, or worried, but most of all, vulnerable. Confronting our cheating spouses would destroy the lives of the four of us, and perhaps Martha's life most of all. Not to mention what it would do to our children. Even though I didn't biologically father my two children, I couldn't help but love them as my own. They were going to be the ultimate victims of all this.

Martha led me back to the back porch. Once there, I poured myself another glass of rum. It was good rum, from Barbados. I made it a stiff glass. I drank it in silence, and Martha sat next to me, drinking wine.

Martha leaned into me. "It's so hot, I removed my underwear," she said.

"Is that a fact?" I replied, topping off my glass of rum. "Why are you telling me?"

Martha smiled and slowly lifted her dress. She lifted it enough to make it clear she wasn't wearing panties.

"Stand up, please," I replied. She stood. I slipped my hand under the short skirt of her dress, and sure enough she had no panties on. "You're honest," I said. "You feel nice."

"Thank you," she replied. "You're the first man to touch me there since I married Hank. It feels really good."

"Thank you for the honor. You know, no woman has tasted me since I married Melissa. Not even Melissa," I said. "Just saying."

"That's a shame," Martha said.

"It surely is," I agreed.

"Do you think...?" she said. I stood up and dropped my shorts and my briefs. My cock was already hard. "How lovely," Melissa added, and she quickly positioned herself to have a little taste. She had quite a taste, but stopped before I exploded. It was heavenly, nevertheless.

"You know, since you shoot blanks, I'm told, it might be fun for you to shoot some of those blanks inside me? I mean, if you want to, that is?"

"You're okay with it? We'd be committing adultery, you know," I said.

"I've thought about it. I view it as balancing the scales. I wouldn't mind another child, if, you know, some of your blanks are not so blank?"

"Let's find out, shall we?" I said, as Martha raised her shift, exposing her pussy to my hungry eyes.

"I'm already wet. Sucking you off did that to me," Martha said. Martha ttok off her dress, becoming naked, her gorgeous tits on full display. Melissa's tits were bigger and basically, perfect, but variety is the spice of life, and Martha promised me some excellent spice! She lay down on the back porch and spread her legs.

I felt emotions swirling around within me. A hard porch floor is far from a bed, and it felt sleazy to be making love while our spouses were on the other porch and our children slept upstairs. Also, there was no evidence I shot blanks; that was all bullshit. I felt sure Martha knew that. She had said, after all, that she'd like another child.

Well, I did it. I gently slipped inside her wonderfully wet vaginal canal, with my cock loving every millimeter inside her more than the previous one. I kept on going until I was buried full hilt inside her, and Martha quietly groaned. "So good!" she whispered. "Hmm," I replied, in time honored male language, but in my mind, I was thinking, "Yes, so good indeed!"

I began to pump inside her and she reacted to me like no other woman ever had. She rose her tummy to meet me, she quietly groaned and moaned out her pleasure, she clasped her legs around my back and pulled me deeper inside her. At one point she whispered, "You're so thick. I love it," and then she groaned. Her fingernails began to claw my back (and Martha had serious fingernails!) and she began to moan louder. I clamped my hand on her mouth, and she nodded, remembering to be quiet. As I fucked her harder and harder, releasing some of my emotions swirling inside me that I'm unable to describe in words, and using her delicious cunt as a vehicle to release my frustrations, she suddenly climaxed.

I slowed down, since Melissa never likes to continue the fuck after she's climaxed. Martha was different, however, and she whispered, "Cum inside me. I want your blanks! Fuck me up, but good, lover."

That did it for me, and I gave her my all. Damn if she didn't climax a second time, when I unloaded all the spunk my balls could give me, deep inside her luscious, fabulous body. OMG, it was so good, so fucking good, in so many ways.

As I lay on top of her, emotionally and physically spent, my mind raced. What had we done? True, in some sense, our spouses more than deserved our little infidelity. They had earned it; but did that justify it?

I didn't have time for more reflection, more recriminations, because there was a loud and long scream of horror coming from the front porch. I jumped up, pulling my pants back up, and ran to the front porch, where I was greeted by my naked, hysterical wife, standing over an also naked, prone, lover, friend, and husband of Martha. When Martha saw Hank, the screams became stereo. I ran to the phone and called 911.

If we hadn't been out at the Lake House when Hank had his heart attack, he might have survived it, or so we were led to believe. We were, however, at the Lake House, and poor Hank did not survive it. There was some speculation that maybe the heart attack could have been avoided had he not loaded up with Viagra. Did he really need Viagra to get it up for my sexy wife Melissa? I found that hard to believe. None of that was important. Death trumps everything, and brings the entire world to a halt.

**

Three Years Later

Martha had sold her house, and Melissa and I sold our house, and the three of us and the four children all lived under one roof, in a large, rather spectacular house, owned by the three of us. Also, each of Martha and Melissa had given me two new boys to add to the household, so I now had two children I had fathered, and the four Hank had fathered. Yes, I wondered if I had in fact fathered Melissa's boy, given her penchant to cheat, but the two boys continued the theme, looking like twins, and they both looked exactly like me. So, I didn't worry.

We had worked out an arrangement. For the sake of the children, with Hank gone, we decided to live under one roof. However, I had lost all sexual desire for Melissa, even though she is both pretty and -- I had always thought -- sexually hot. Her boobs alone turned the heads of many a man.

I spent my nights sleeping with Martha, and we fucked up a storm. Melissa's heart was broken: She had lost two lovers, one to a heart attack and death, and the other from an intolerant husband vis à vis a cheating wife. Now Melissa was free to cheat all she wanted to, since technically we were still married, but as far as I could tell, she never did. She was a broken woman.

Melissa and Martha were close. Martha forgave her for cheating with Martha's husband. Martha was, quite simply, a better Christian than I was. Melissa focused on the six children, even if three of them were Martha's, but she loved them all. We all three of us loved them all, actually.

There was one more notable event. We took the six kids up to the Lake House. The two oldest boys were ten, but that was still young, and the two women sunbathed in minimalist bikinis. I began to notice Melissa again (as well as, of course, Martha), as she looked hyper sexy, lying on the beach in such a revealing bikini, in front of all of our neighbors up at the Lake. She was still my wife, after all. Martha was my mistress. Everything was just out in the open.

Martha told me Melissa was complaining about how horny she was. She hadn't had sex in three years. She wondered if Martha would mind if she tried to seduce me. Okay, this was bizarre, my wife asking my mistress if she could have sex with me, but the circumstances were bizarre in any event.

Martha made herself scarce, and Melissa and I had our first heart to heart talk since Hank's untimely death. "Tell me," I said, "When we married, you told me I had knocked you up. I didn't mind, since as you know I was crazy about you. What's the real story?"

Melissa took a deep breath. "Well Philip, as you know, I was kind of wild before we married, and I had four lovers around the time of our marriage. Yan, who is Chinese, Calvin, who is black, Hank, who was married, and of course you. One of the four of you knocked me up. The only one of the four of you whom I loved, was you. I still love you. So, if I was going to have the baby, you were the obvious choice."

"Yes, Hank was married, so he was not an easy choice, I get that. I didn't even know about the two men named Yan and Calvin. I guess you were relieved when Kevin was born and he was white as rice," I said.

"Boy, are you right! I was so afraid either Yan or Calvin was the father. You would have divorced me in a minute. When Kevin turned out to be white, I figured it was Providence, and you were indeed the father. Of course, when Martha gave birth to Jason and he looked like the twin of Kevin, I figured you had cheated on me with Martha. I kept quiet about it. As it turned out, you hadn't cheated on me with Martha -- had you?" Melissa asked.

"What about the girls? Did Hank father Elizabeth too, am I right?" I asked.

"I found it hard to resist Hank. I think I'm oversexed or something. I'm so sorry, Philip. I really wish you were the father of Elizabeth. You could be. I mean we fucked almost every day back then, right? That's why I figured you must have a low sperm count. Our two new sons, one with me and one with Martha, prove me wrong about that, I guess," she said.