How Did You Know? Ch. 05

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Becky, Oh Sweet Becky.
5.1k words
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75.9k
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Part 5 of the 6 part series

Updated 09/22/2022
Created 02/04/2004
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I slowly begin to wake up. Partly cloudy in my head, but bright and sunny in my heart as I feel the warmth of Beth lying next to me, silently sleeping. She's still on her side, breathing softly, I contemplate what we've done and to my surprise I'm not having a stomach-rolling-over, puke-my-guts-out feeling like I did yesterday morning when I thought it was her with me. Weird how that changes and I can't explain it. Actually, I don't want to.

I watch her sleeping form for a minute or two and realize that my left arm is under her pillow and I carefully withdraw it, lift the covers, and slip from bed. I gotta pee something awful and I head to the bathroom to relieve myself. Going back in the bedroom, I decide I'm famished as well as dying for a coffee and smoke. I grab my robe and head down the hall, walking quietly so I don't disturb Beth.

Ten minutes later I'm sitting at the table smoking and thinking about what the day will bring. Well, that's not quite true; I'm also contemplating what the night left behind, and that has me a little more engaged than I'd like to admit. I'm not getting anywhere with it though and I'm just beginning to think that I should get dressed and go out and do chores when Bethany pads into the room, pushes my hand out of the way and sits on my lap. She's as naked as the day she was born, and right now, I'm fine with it.

She shakes a cigarette out of my pack, lights it, kisses me briefly, and walks to the coffee pot for a cup of her own. She's soon back on my lap and my friend is beginning to think he's gonna get lucky again as he starts to rise for the occasion.

"You okay?" She asks softly.

"Yeah honey, I am." I reply.

"This tastes sooo good," she says taking a sip of coffee.

"Plans for the day?" She inquires.

"Not really, things to do in the stalls, but that won't take too long." I answer.

"We probably need to find Becky." She looks at me with concern in her eyes.

"I know, I was thinking about that too, but it's Monday, and she's probably working." I state.

"Well, you wanna call her, or should I?" She asks.

"Probably better if you do," I reply as she slips off my lap and goes to retrieve the phone. I'm watching her walk away from me and marvel at the view. My dick is keeping his one eye on her too and he's standing on tip toes to keep her in sight.

Beth uncradles the phone, dials a number, and listens for a moment. She beeps off, clicks on and dials another number and again listens for a moment. Frowning she hangs the phone up and heads back to me.

"My, my, what do we have here," she says, as she turns around reaches between her legs and pushes my dick down so she can sit on my lap. She releases him and he's snuggled against her crotch now.

"Hmmm, that feels good," she says, lifting slightly and allowing him in.

I go with the sensation and reach up, cupping her breasts in both hands, nipple rings between my fingers. God this is amazing. Broad daylight, fucking my daughter, and right here in the kitchen. For a few minutes we just go with the moves, then she stands up suddenly, wheels around and coming to me face to face, reinserts his majesty with one smooth stroke and we're fucking like banshees. Kisses deep as the well, tits mashing my chest and arms around each other hanging on for dear life. Minutes later I'm going off while she's screaming orgasms at the ceiling. Finally we both calm down and begin to catch our breath.

Soft tender kisses and pecks as I grow soft slip out, and she sighs as he leaves.

A minute later she says, "That was kind of odd dad." She says.

"What is?" I ask, thinking it's not at all odd, I've got a naked woman on my lap and my dick normally reacts that way when threatened with being stuffed somewhere.

"Becky's phone message. She says on both her office phone and cell phone that today's Monday, the 10th of February, which it is, and that she won't be available today because of 'a personal matter'. Now what do you suppose that's about?" She looks at me.

"I sure as hell don't know honey."

"Look, I've got an idea, why don't I go out and muck out the stalls, and you go over to her house and see what's up?" Beth asks.

"I don't know honey, maybe you should go see her; she may talk to you. After what happened yesterday she probably doesn't want to see me again."

"Have you thought anymore about that?" Beth looks at me as she asks.

"No, I haven't, and I don't know if I really want to." I say honestly.

"You like having sex me?" She asks.

"What?" I ask, and startled by the question.

"Well do you, or don't you?" She insists.

Now Bethany is very much like her mother. She too could switch conversations in the middle of the stream and I learned long ago that you make the switch when it occurs or all hell could break loose. Recognizing that, I answer the question. Don't know where it's going, but I'll know soon enough if I go along.

"Yes, I do, god I hope you know that." I reply.

"So what's different today than Saturday morning when you were mad and pissed off at me?" She asks flatly.

"Well, we talked, and you changed my mind I guess." I reply.

"So how do you feel about Becky dad?" She continues.

"I don't know, I think she's a wonderful lady. She's a sweetheart actually, and to me she's like a second daughter." I say.

"Well, you're fucking one of your daughters, so where does that leave her?" Beth asks.

Now there's logic I couldn't have put together if I lived forever. Shit! She had a point, or did she?

"Is it the same Beth? I mean... Well, I love you as a daughter, and quit using the "F" word about what we're doing..."

"Why?" She interrupts.

"Because it makes it sound cheap and vulgar, and yes, I know it's wrong, and yes I'll go to hell for doing it, but I don't know, with you it's different." I finish.

"Why, because we couldn't get married, have babies and go on with life?" She asks.

"Would you want that?" I ask incredulously.

"Have I ever mentioned it to you? Have I said, 'come on dad, knock me up, let's have a kid?' I don't remember saying that." She says. "I've got two boys and I love them to death, but no I don't want any more kids. Marriage is obviously out of the question. We're just... well we're just having sex, I don't have any plans to change my life other than that, do you?"

"Well no, so what's your point?" I ask.

"My point is that's exactly where Becky is. She CAN'T have kids dad, so what's left in her life? She loves you beyond reason, and you can call it misplaced, or misguided, or whatever you want, but she's in love with you, wants to be with you, and you dismissed her yesterday like a cheap whore. You made what you two did together, whatever that was, feel to her like she'd been used and then thrown away. Actually dad, you probably made her feel exactly like her own dad did all those years ago. You made her a sperm receptacle, pure and simple." She finished.

Well, guess who shriveled up and tried to hide then? Yup, both me and my dick. I'm not making any excuses for what I'd done, with either Bethany or Becky. At the moment those things occurred, I was trying to pop a nut, and I did. Actually I did it more often than I thought I was even capable of doing, but I'd done it. Now my mind started doing panic searches to figure out which way to go next, and then Beth drops the real bomb.

"I just hope Beck's not suicidal like her dad." She says to nobody in particular, just thinking out loud I suppose.

"How did she sound on her answering machine when you called?" I ask.

"Actually, now that you mention it, she sounded drunk." Beth said.

"Great, honey, let me up, I better get over there." I finished as Beth stood up and I headed down the hall. I was dressed in a heartbeat, and as I pulled my boots on Beth sat next to me on the bed.

"You want me to go with you?" She asks quietly.

"No, I'd better do this alone." I said, as I'm thinking, honey, if she's dead I don't want you to see it, but keep that thought to myself.

Beth stands as I do and puts her arms around my neck. "I love you dad, be good to her, whatever happens, be kind, okay?" She asks and then kisses me on the cheek.

"No problem." I said, kiss her back, and disengage from her hug.

I grab my cell phone on the way out the door, and within minutes I'm rocketing down the road towards Becky's place. I glance at my watch and figure I should be there in about ten minutes. I'm getting nervous, and my stomach is sour as week old mash.

Pulling into her driveway I can see through the windows on the garage that her car is in there. I get out, walk to the front door, and ring the bell. No answer and I try the knob. It turns and I swing the door open.

"Becky?" I ask. No answer.

"Becky Lynn?" I say a little louder, and still no answer.

Now I've been in this house a time or two but only through this door to the kitchen, I've never been in the bedroom, but I'm assuming it's down a hall I find on my left and head down it. Two doors down on the left and I arrive at a large bedroom and in the middle of the bed lays Becky. Oh Sweet Jesus I think, don't let her be dead I think as I head to her.

She's naked, and a disheveled mess. The whole room is a mess actually and sitting on the bed stand is an empty bottle of Jim Beam. I kneel on the bed, lean over and listen for her breathing. She is, but it's shallow and short breaths and she reeks of alcohol. Now I know damn well that people can die of alcohol poisoning if they drink too much too quickly and I'm thinking that she's at that point. I've got two choices: I can call 911 and have them here in a heartbeat, or I can take a chance and try to get her out of this myself. For her own dignity, I choose the second option, scoop her off the bed, and carry her to the small bathroom attached to the bedroom. That's a lie too I realize as I carry her, I damn sure don't want anybody coming in her and have to explain why I'm with her in the first place. Shit, my conscience is back and he's kickin' the crap outta me. She's a limp as a rag doll and I bump her head against the door jam as we go through the door. I deposit her on the floor in front of the toilet and she moans as I set her there.

The adrenaline has kicked in now and I'm solid. Sour stomach gone and my protective mode kicks in. In one swift move, I tilt her head back; run my fingers down her throat and on cue she gags twice and starts throwing up. I don't quite get her head over the toilet in time, but as she continues to throw up my aim improves. From what I'm seeing, most of the Beam had to have gone in there in the last hour or so, and she continues to be sick for the next minute or two. The room fills with the smell of whiskey, not vomit. Finally, after getting to the dry heave stage, I pick her up, open the shower door, and carry her in. Turning the water on I'm a bit shocked at how cold it is, and I've got my clothes on. Becky immediately tries to get away from the stream, but I hold her fast in front of it. Gradually the water warms, but I keep adjusting it to the cool side, I don't want her comfortable.

Her head rolls back and with her mouth open she tries to rinse her mouth out but gets more than she should down her throat and gagging, throws her head forward and gets sick some more.

"Good girl, keep fighting Beck." I say. "Keep getting rid of it, it's okay baby, I'm here, you'll be fine." I'm babbling now, but don't care, I need to hear some encouragement even if it is coming from me.

The next twenty minutes are spent basically holding her up, continuing to talk to her, stop her swinging when she fights me, and massaging her as best I can. Finally, she's standing on her own, albeit on weak knees and holding herself under the shower with her hands against the shower wall, her butt sitting on my bent knee. She seems to be gaining her strength back. I keep turning the water to the hot side now, taking the edge off.

She gets the dry heaves once more and after throwing her head back to get water in her mouth, she throws it back forward, spits the water out, and says. "FUCK!" Her knees buckle then and I grab her under her arms, shut the shower off, and pull her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom.

"Come on Beck, walk, keep moving baby, come on, come on." She's trying to stay on her feet but can't on her own, so I keep it up the chatter, keep her moving and we head down the hallway, around the kitchen, through the living room and back to the bedroom. Circling around for another pass at the house I notice her head loll from one side to the other with our movements. This girl is drunk and in no way aware of where she is. I keep it up though, keep talking, making her move, pick her up when she stumbles and am beginning to think that maybe I should have called 911 when she says, "Okay dad, just fuck me and get it over with, please I'm tired."

Progress finally, I'm thinking she is going to come out of this, and I continue to walk her around the house. She keeps protesting, especially when her back comes up against my wet clothes. I'm soaked to the skin, and getting a bit cold myself, but I keep going and going and going. Maybe an hour of this goes on and she's getting pretty militant.

"Fuckin' asshole," she says, "Why don't you just get this over with. Kill me and put me outta my misery. God I hate you, I hate you so much." Then the startling part; she suddenly gains strength, pushes away from me, takes two steps forward, then spins around with a knife in her hand, which is pointed right at me.

Now I have no idea when she took it, in the kitchen we'd past a wooden block with knives in it quite a few times but I never saw her grab one. But there she was, facing me with hate on her face and killing in her eyes. I'm about to say, "Whoa Becky," or something else clever when her face clouds over. She looks angry first, then confused, and then totally embarrassed when she finally focuses her eyes and realizes it's me standing in front of her.

The knife drops to the floor, her hand comes to her mouth and she says, "Oh my God Phil, what're you doing here?"

"It's okay honey," I say and start to move towards her, but she wheels around and tries to head down the hall. Unfortunately she trips, falls, and lands in a heap in front of her bedroom door. She's trying to get up but not having any luck.

I bend down to help her, and in doing so put my arms around her torso and end up with a tit in my left hand. This sets her completely off and she kicks clear of me, dashes to the bed and crawls under the covers.

"Get the fuck out of here Phil." She starts, "I don't want to see you, I don't want to be anywhere around you." She pulls the covers completely over her face.

"Come on Beck, calm down." I say.

"Fuck you, you asshole. Get OUT!" She's screaming now.

"Honey, we need to talk." I say limply.

"We need to fuck?" She asks incredulously.

"I said, we need to TALK Goddamn it Becky Lynn, pull those covers off your face or I'll do it for you." I'm mad now.

She slowly pulls the covers off her face and stares at me. Doesn't say anything at first, but screws her mouth up on the left side and blows the hair from her face.

We have a standoff for a minute or two and neither one of us wants to be the first one to break the silence. She moans, drops her head to the pillow and says, "Goddamn I'm sick."

"Well no shit young lady, I can't imagine why." I'm sarcastic now. "What the hell were you doing Becky?"

"What business is that of yours, you asshole." Is her reply.

Okay, I am an asshole. I can't think on my feet, hell if the last forty-eight hours are any indication, I can't think standing up, sitting down, or lying flat on my back for hellsake.

"I care about you Becky, I do, I don't want to see anything bad happen to you." I say meekly.

"It already has my friend; it already fucking has." She says hopelessly.

"Look, Beck, can we talk about this?" I'm begging here.

"What's to say? You told me already to get lost." She says and tears fill her eyes.

"That's not what I said Beck and you know it."

"Oh really?" The sarcasms back. "What exactly did you tell me?" She asks and flips over to face me.

"I just said I didn't want kids." Now I'm humbled. Thinking something is one thing, actually saying it takes on a whole different tone.

"Oh, so you'll fuck me when it's convenient for you, or if I'm a little horny, but no kids, no commitments, no real LOVE! Is that it?"

"Christ Beck," I start and move to the bed to sit down. I put my hand out to her, and she scoots away like I'm the grim reaper himself.

"Don't touch me, don't ever touch me again. I've made an ass out of myself. I've carried this torch for you for all these years, thought you were so special. Hell Phil I put you on some kind of fucking pedestal and look what happens. You're just like every other man that's gotten his paws on me. Fuck me and then walk away." She finishes and crying, drops her head to her pillow.

I'm sitting there stunned; no I'm not. Stunned is to make you dizzy or senseless, I have no feelings here. I'm numb. That's how I'm feeling; I have no sensations other than maybe feeling so alone right now I can't stand it.

I've hurt this woman. I didn't set out to do that, I just did it. I didn't pay attention to what she was trying to tell me, I took more from her sexually than I gave, and I sure as hell didn't think about making love with her would have these kinds of consequences. Great Phil, just great I think. Maybe that was the point; I should have made love to her and not fucked her. Now there's a novel thought

"Becky, please look at me, I want to talk to you." I'm pleading now.

She slowly rolls over, uses the sheet to wipe her eyes and stares. She doesn't say anything, she just looks at me.

"I'm not very good at this honey. I've been so busy being miserable this past year I've gotten pretty oblivious to people around me, especially other peoples feelings. What I did with you was wrong plain and simple." I start to say.

"Phil..." She starts.

"No Beck, hear me out." I say shushing her up with my finger to her mouth. She relaxes, and lays her head back on the pillow.

"I didn't know how you felt about me. I knew you liked being around me, hell honey; I like you being around me. But I did NOT know you loved me, and the biggest fault of mine is that I had sex with you without me loving you first. The age thing aside, I've always believed you should love someone first, then make love. You're in love; you make love if you know what I mean. I didn't do that. You did, you were in love with me and you followed your heart. I did it the other way around. I liked you, hell I'm more than fond of you, but at the moment we were together all I could think about was screwing and me getting there. If I was deeply in love with you, I'd have worried about me last. Does that make any sense?"

Becky nods, sniffles again but doesn't speak.

"I'd like to have another chance honey. I'm so lost right now. I know if it wasn't for you and Bethany I'd have joined Polly a few months ago with my drinking. But I am sober right now, I like what I see lying in front of me, I liked hearing what you said about me when you said it, and that's more than enough to go forward. I don't need to have everything all laid out for the rest of my life. I'd like to start this one day at a time, and the only way I know how to do that is to start here and now with today. You willing?" I finish.

"Exactly what are you asking Phil?" She asks cautiously.

"Get dressed, lets go to the ranch and eat, then... Hell I don't know what then, maybe a drive, maybe a horse ride, maybe a movie. I don't know, but I know right now I want to be around you. I also want to be honest with you. I don't want secrets between us; ever. What I'm saying is let's just go ahead and see what happens. I'm feeling kind of, well kind of..."

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