In the Way Ch. 06

Nikki swallowed the whole thing without spilling a single drop, leading me to conclude that she had done it before. She kept licking my cock long after it had turned flaccid, and it almost seemed as if I would be getting my wish - three in three - when she straightened. "No doubt about it," she said, smacking her lips. "Yours definitely tastes much better."

"Better than whose?" I asked, rather churlishly.

"Than mine," she said, seeming surprised at my question. "And way, way better than Jimmy's too. His was always too watery - ugh, I don't even want to think about it."

"Er, not that I want to intrude, but how many guys have you done this to?" I am your father, after all, and I have a right to know. I left that unsaid.

"Three," she remarked offhandedly as she climbed over me. "Though I did give Jimmy about ten BJ's more than I gave the other two."

"Humph!"

"Gosh, Daddy, are you jealous? Daddy's jealous that his little girl was sucking off her boyfriends on her dates so that she could save her virginity for him?"

"I wasn't exactly jealous," I lied. "Merely curious. If you want, I can tell you how many times your mother gives me head in a week."

"Yew!" she said. I found it funny that she was true to the stereotype of most teenagers finding the thought of their parents' intimacy repulsive - how else could you come into existence, eh, think a stork dropped you at the doorstep? - even as she had just made love to her own father.

The thought about babies, in any case, reminded me of the chance that we had taken in having unprotected sex. I was not worried about AIDS - both Rachel and I had ourselves checked for STD's twice a year, and Nikki obviously would not need it as long as I was her only partner. Despite the new direction our relationship had taken, I still wanted my daughter to go to a good college and get a good degree. We had not raised her up so carefully for so many years just so that she could become my slut.

Still, the thought of knocking up my own daughter had its positive effects.

"In any case," I told her in an effort to sound her out on the issue, "it's better to have oral sex. You can't get pregnant if I cum in your mouth."

"I am on the pill, silly," she said, putting my mind at rest. Another part of me was genuinely disappointed. "Mom had me started on them when I was fifteen."

"Oh," I said. This was another habit of mine. Saying 'Oh.' "That's good."

She seemed to see right through my lie. "No, I can tell you are disappointed. Do you really want me to have your baby?"

This is the kind of situation where you hope the other person lets you off the hook by giving expression to a few expletives and changing the subject, but that is all it ever remains - a hope. Looking at her face told me that she would not give up until she had me committing to an answer one way or another. I tried the truth this time.

"Okay, so I admit I do want that. I would love to have a baby with you. I think it would be exciting, not to mention downright obscene - and therefore erotic - to see you with a swollen belly, knowing that it is our child. And watching him - or her - grow up, call us Mom and Dad..." I let her see that I was sincere about us being together for a long, long time. "But on the other hand, there are all these scares about incest pregnancies and deformities, not to mention the fact that it will mess up your life for good before you've even had a chance to decide for yourself." I attempted a smile. "Now, if we were alone on an uninhabited island with an excellent healthcare system, I really wouldn't mind getting you pregnant."

She placed her palms on my chest, and then her head. "I know that. Believe me, you don't know how badly I want you to knock me up. Nevertheless, I want to graduate first, study something. I don't want a career or anything, but I don't want our kids to grow up thinking that I was too dumb to go to college in the first place either." I did not miss her use of the plural. "Genetic disorders can be cured, fetuses can be treated... we might have to move away somewhere else in order to raise them properly. Too many things will change. I just want to know one thing, Daddy."

"What's that?"

"After I graduate, can we start our own family?"

"Of course, baby. If you still want to."

"You keep saying that, as if I might leave you for somebody else."

"It's not entirely impossible that you might meet someone more your own age whom you might prefer to be with. Of course, it's a given that he won't be as handsome as me, or as smart, or as sexy -"

"Okay, okay, I get the picture," she said, laughing, and I was pleased at the way I had managed to turn an awkward statement around. Having done that, I had to go and undo everything by adding, "I want you to have a normal life too."

Well, then she just had to say, "Why? Isn't this normal too?"

"You know it's not," I told her. "I am your father. Your mother's hankering to be our very own sex slave. We've got a dog who thinks he is God's gift to bitches, we've even got a microwave that operates the garage door every time we use it." Both of us were laughing by the time I finished.

"Okay, Daddy. Let's make a deal. Let's just be lovers for as long as both of us want it. If we are still together when I graduate, I will expect you to move us elsewhere so that we can have our own family. A perfect, all-American Family."

I said, "Deal," and we shook hands on it.

EPILOGUE.

I am sorry if I you suffered a bit of time warping there, but you cannot honestly expect me to recount every single moment over the last five years just so that you can have a complete picture. It took me a month to reconstruct the day Nikki and I first made love, and the only reason I was able to do that is because the first time, obviously, is the most memorable time in anybody's life. When I was a detective, I used to keep notes; when I retired, I burnt my pen and pad along with my license. Nikki has maintained her habit, however, and it was from this record that I managed to reproduce, verbatim, the conversations that occurred then.

In the intervening period, just so I do not leave you hanging, the years were good to us. Shortly after we became lovers, Nicole and I toured Europe for about three weeks. We kept to the small towns and villages, stayed in inns and barns, and drove ourselves around, and it was a tour package nobody else could have given us. For those who are wondering, I was never in any sort of financial trouble even when I had been a private investigator - a former client had seen fit to institute a trust for my benefit, which would keep me more than comfortable as long as I lived, his way of saying thanks for saving his fortune from a gold-digger. Even on our trip, Nikki kept tabs on our expense quite fastidiously and we returned home not much poorer.

Rachel moved into Nikki's room, and Nikki moved into mine. There was sufficient evidence to the contrary when we had people staying the night, but since it was usually just the three of us, appearances were unnecessary. Rachel would come down in the mornings to find the two of us making out on the kitchen floor, or walk in on us making love in the living room. Occasionally, we involved her in a few kinky activities as well, usually stuff we would not dream of trying out on each other, and she was always game no matter how much it inconvenienced her. The things we made her do are not fit for printing here, although none of us has ever regretted anything.

The heady weeks of the romance lasted for almost a year until Nikki was admitted to a college of her choosing. It was too far to commute daily, but she was adamant that she would not go until I moved in with her. I worked as a part-time assistant at the library just to keep myself occupied while she had her classes, and the night would start once she had finished her homework for the day. Whenever it was necessary to introduce me, I was always passed off as her fiancé. The photo of Nikki and I sharing a passionate kiss on the day of her graduation still adorns our kitchen wall.

Soon after her graduation, Nikki gave birth to our first son - Gerard Kane Junior. Just over a year later, we had another new member in our family, though she would not let me name her Nicole Kane Junior. We call her Anna now.

Ah, and I almost forgot Dr. Chivago. He left LA a few weeks later after our first meeting - when Nicole and I were enjoying ourselves in Europe - leaving a forwarding address with Rachel. We exchange cards and pleasantries, and though we have never actually told him, I think he has a pretty good idea what has happened. My respect for him grows day by day.

Nikki runs a kindergarten now, with the assistance of Rachel who watches over the little ones like a hawk. Since raising kids is best left to women - you must have heard the jokes about babies smoking cigars and drinking beer instead of baby food - I help with whatever physical labor is required to keep the place clean and safe.

Although all of us work hard, not a single night goes by that Nikki and I do not make love. It often seems as if we share one mind and two bodies - it takes but one glance to steal a quickie in the privacy of her room or an early-morning tryst on the dining table as she prepares breakfast. Occasionally, we would leave the kids with Rachel and head off for a weekend of unfettered passion; even rarer still, we would have another baby sitter over to take care of Jerry Jr. and Anna as we use Rachel to exercise our darker desires. Life's in a rut, and the routine makes it worth living.

All said and done, it is not a life I would wish on my worst enemy.