Lucky Fall

"Do you want me to?"

"No - and yes - and no - oh, what the fuck!"

"Careful, honey," I said this time, "Watch your tongue."

"I would rather watch it around you, you sex maniac," she shot back, giggling as I tickled her flushed skin with my soft breaths.

We rolled around a few more times on the bed, extending our foreplay as long as possible because neither of us wanted to be disappointed again. But towards the end of a few minutes - I had lost all sense of time - she abruptly slid out from above me and said excitedly, "The pool! The water should support your weight!"

It was such a simple idea, such a simple resolution of our little problem, that all fears were forgotten for the moment. I reared up and hoisted my near-naked daughter onto my shoulders, very much to her delight. She pretended to squirm out of my grip, even as I pulled her panties down to her ankle. The instant that she felt my hands against her naked butt, Stephanie started kissing all over the back of my head, running her hands across my back in delicate waves.

I threw her into the pool with a manic grunt, almost regretting my roughness when she surfaced, laughing her head off. I jumped alongside her, and no sooner had my body hit the water than she wrapped her arms around my neck, her mouth enveloping mine, her lips seeking mine in a desperate seal. We went under the surface, two people craving the flesh of the other for the essence of life. We surfaced for air, and then dunked under for another vice-like kiss.

With her legs still 'cuffed' together by her underwear, my daughter smoothly slid them around mine, locking my groin in place with hers. She thrust powerfully against my crotch, almost impaling herself on my erection - somehow, the damn thing had come up again - even as her fingers threatened to tear off my neck.

We pulled apart for just a second to see each other, love the only thing in mind, and its consummation an act that was about to be committed. It was quite something to see a woman as beautiful as my daughter, clad in only a shirt that was floating at her neck, having a lusty look that no artist can ever hope to capture on canvas... with water as the perfect medium, a flexible wall that was as erotic as it was life-giving.

She nodded once, just once, handing over all her initiative and all her hope - all her love - to the one man whom the law had forbidden to enjoy, her own father, this lucky bastard who was cheating on his own wife with their own daughter, in their own backyard... perhaps, I had fleetingly thought, the guilt and the recriminations would come.

But wrapped in her arms... there was nothing to beat that. No matter what the consequences, they were all worth it.

And she wanted it... that made it all seem right.

No word was spoken, only eye-contacts that were forever encouraging me to drive even harder into my own daughter, and in spite of the fact that we were starting to go under the surface, too busy to even try to float, our lovemaking was uninterrupted. We engaged ourselves in a kiss, exchanging our breath underwater, eyes now closed, hands doing all the communication... but the world was still. A deep pause. Nothing else moved.

Except our bodies, two as one.

We broke surface a few minutes later - and God, were we out of breath! But somehow, by some signal that anyone who's made really passionate love can know about but never understand, no sooner had either of us taken in a breath than we kissed again, her legs wrapped around my waist and keeping myself inside her.

To this day, Stephanie maintains that she has no idea how many times she came, or even how many times I did... And since I can't exactly be any more accurate, I am never in any position to correct her. All I do know is that it wasn't just once... or twice... or thrice... by the time we got out of the water, it almost felt strange not to have the swirling liquid around us anymore. Stephanie was the first to pull herself out of the water.

"Phew!" she panted, grinning madly at me. "If you ever do that to me again, I swear I am gonna call the cops!"

"Really?" I asked, sure that she was joking - and her grin was too infectitious.

"Like hell," she laughed. "I'll probably spread my legs even wider for you. Jesus!"

"Why Him?" I quipped. "I'm the one who did all the hard-work, and now you say you'll spread for Jesus..."

She rolled her eyes at me. "You know, for a father, you really make some silly jokes. But I love you so much I don't care!"

She bent over to kiss me, and we ended up frolicking under the water for some more time. Finally, by mutual consent, it was time to get back onto dry land. "Besides," Stephanie whispered huskily, "I read somewhere that a girl gets more easily pregnant under water!"

"Given the things I want to do to you, it'll be a wonder if you don't end up knocked up within the year," I warned.

"Oh, don't worry! I would never stop you, but you aren't going to 'knock me up,' as you so crudely put it."

"You are on the pill," I stated, a little confused as to whether I should be happy or disappointed.

"Maybe," she said, a naughty smile playing at the corners of her mouth, "Maybe not. That's not the issue. If anything, WE're going to have a baby, not knock me preggers."

"Fine by me," I said, sighing, the relief apparently prominent on my face, rewarded by her amused expression. "How many?"

"Don't know." She shook her head. "But can we discuss that later? We've been in the pool so much that I am starting to feel like a fish."

We got out of the water together and dried each other off. Even with all the wrinkles from having been underwater for so long, she looked so beautiful... dammit, I was struck for words, but English doesn't have enough in its vocabulary to accurately define how wonderful and beautiful - there's that word again - she seemed to me. Maybe I picked the wrong language.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, noticing my fixed gaze on her body. She knew the answer, of course, but she was one hell of a woman, and she never seemed to run out of opportunities to drive the feminine qualities of being so tantalizingly dense.

"You."

"Uh-oh!" she replied, "I know that look! No, Daddy, not now. I can't even stand!"

But she did stand her ground long enough for me to sweep her off her feet, dump her on the King-size couch and dive in after her.

It was amazing, I would later realize, that I never noticed any pain in my leg after that.

So went two weeks, uninterrupted but for a few stray incidents like having to procure the groceries from the nearby supermarket and the visit to the doctor, who was quite perplexed when I insisted that I was feeling better, and even more when everything looked normal. My wife called up every second day, more often than not finding us in bed - where else? - and even though I have to admit that it is silly to spend twenty-three out of every day in bed, it was something neither of us was finding any easy to give up.

It was pretty amusing, by the way, to hear Stephanie try to talk normally to her mother even as she lay over me, trying to push away as I assaulted her breasts - or, as for a couple of times, ate her out with gusto - and while she was initially a little terse with her mother, she picked up so nicely that I was starting to wonder if the magic was wearing off. For her. I was still overawed by her... (sentence terminated due to insufficient adjectives.) And then, the moment she hung up, she would release all her reactions, and I was pleased to see that she still felt as I did.

Stephanie was busy in the kitchen that fine morning, halfway into making breakfast by the time I even woke up. I followed the smell of fresh bacon into the kitchen, pressed my erection into her back and started kissing her bare shoulders. She melted backwards into my arms for a little while, moaning under the combination of kisses and caresses that my hands were effecting. Pretty soon, she was lying on her back on the dining table, legs slung over my shoulder as I started of with my favorite coffee - Stephanie.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't shoot you two for this mess." It was a calm voice, neither mine nor my daughter's. Just Jamie. My wife. The mother of the woman I was making love to.

I was so shocked to see her that I stood upright, almost tipping Stephanie over her head. Her legs, long and smooth, mottled with bite-marks all over, slid off, countering her potential somersault and instead, causing her to catapult onto my body, and we fell down, me underneath her in a position so reminiscent of any moment within the past couple of weeks.

It would have been a comical sight, I suppose, but there was no comedy in our situation. At least, not yet. Not until Jamie decided to make us jump through the hoops before calling the cops. The blue ones.

"Jamie?"

"Mom!"

"At least," my wife remarked, moving into the kitchen, "You remember me." She walked to the blackened pot, the spoilt breakfast for the day, and scrunched her face at the ruined food. "Steph, you could have turned this off before you went for the picnic." She turned off the stove, waving her S&W as casually as if she were using a Chinese fan.

"Now, would either of you mind explaining what I have come across here? I find your clothes all over the living room, even the gown that Stephanie is so careful of, and that's torn right off the back, a couple of soiled panties, your boxers, a lot of spots on the couch that look like cum... "

Neither of us spoke.

She looked at the two of us, still naked, still sweating - and for all the wrong reasons. "Okay, in that case, let's start systematically. How long?"

"Two weeks." I said, finally breaking my own shell of fear with a sudden surge of internal bravado. If I was going down, I must have decided, at least I would go down with honor. And let her know that but for her hurt, there were no other regrets.

She crooked an eyebrow at our daughter, my naked lover who was beside me, her juices still trailing down her legs. Stephanie nodded, the first nod diffident, then followed by more confident ones. Amazing how, even under extreme stress, we were still connecting.

"When were you going to end it?"

"Never." Stephanie replied. It wasn't a defiant tone or a challenge - she might have been talking of the weather, a bland statement.

"Oh?" My wife was quite surprised by this. I wasn't, though; Steph was every bit Jamie's daughter, and the same genes were in her.

"Dad and I are in love, Mom," Stephanie continued, "He loves you too, and for what it is worth, if you had been here, nothing would have happened."

"Really?" my wife returned sarcastically. "It's my fault now? And if what you say is true, why the hell isn't he covering up? Or at least speaking up? Bastard!"

"I deserve that," I answered sincerely. "Jamie, I love you. And I love Stephanie. I guess I love you both ... in much the same fashion, in a way of speaking... you as my wife, friend and lover. Steph as my daughter and my lover. And my friend. I am married to you, I am her father, yes, and yes, you should be the only one... but now I can't live without either of you. Do what you think is right, but don't hurt Steph. Take it out on me..."

Jamie was silent for a minute, and I suppose the only reason she didn't catch on when Stephanie squeezed my arm gently, our first physical contact since being intruded upon was because her eyes were starting to fill up.

And then, surprisingly, she ran towards me and hugged me tightly. Even as I started to come to terms with this sudden volte face, she pulled her naked daughter close and the three of us hugged. As one family.

The incongruity was striking.

"You know something, Harry, back when I had to take this job, I knew we would be seeing less of each other." A hanky replaced her gun, and she wiped her face. There was no fire in her eyes, only the understanding that I had been finding there for twenty years and loved. "And I was afraid you might... see someone else more, someone who could temporarily blind your love... and while I knew you were too good to go away, I had to decide how to treat it.

"It took me some time, but I finally realized that nothing - and no one - was important enough to come between us, and if you were ever indiscreet, as long as it didn't hurt, I wouldn't mind. Not that I would have appreciated another woman taking my spot in our bed, but it was not - it never should be - a threat to our marriage. We owe each other at least that much.

"And now... Harry, I admit I was more than a little confused when I caught you two... having sex... making love... I saw a lot more than you think I did, and I was confused if you were hurting Stephanie, using her as an outlet for your sex-drive, or if you really loved her as you loved me. And I heard Steph, and I knew it was a lot deeper than a temporary affair.

"I am not saying our daughter is not important enough, but when I heard you say that you still love me, that settled everything. Just tell me once more, Harry, do you actually love me?"

I picked her hand, the one without the hanky or the gun, and kissed it. "With my life. I can't live without you."

She smiled through her tears. "Or without Stephanie."

"Or without Stephanie," I agreed. "Both of you make me what I am, and I am not half alive without either of you."

My wife hugged me once more, and I could feel her wet cheeks press against my skin. The embrace soon turned into a kiss, and it was only when I felt her soft lips press against mine that I realized with a shock how similar mother and daughter were.

"Well," my wife remarked when we pulled away, "That's the first time I have tasted another woman on you, Harry," at which my daughter and I blushed as we caught her import, "Guess I had better get used to the new flavoring."

My eyes met our daughter's for a fraction of a second, but not quickly enough to escape my wife's notice. She grinned at our flushed expressions, making me feel like a naughty son-in-law instead of a husband, although either term would be rather appropriate.

She gave Steph a momentary hug, a gesture that, Steph later confided to me, was the woman's way of saying that everything was okay. "It's a good thing that you can't marry him," my wife told her, "Because otherwise, my dear, I might have just shot you."

Then she gave her a nudge in my direction. "Go kiss and make up," she added with a knowing grin.

We did just that.

It was a comparatively short kiss, deliberately shorter than the one my wife and I had shared just a couple of minutes earlier, and we hoped that the fact was not lost on my wife. She didn't comment on it, however, but stepped back and gave us the maternal look-over. "You two could use a bath," she declared, "And I do need the two hours to clean the house up."

"Two hours?" I asked.

"I'll help," my daughter offered.

"You'll do no such thing," Jamie informed Stephanie, now the mother talking to her daughter. "And what's the matter, Harry, two hours too little for you?"

I grinned. "Two hours is just fine."

My wife gave our daughter a playful swap on her bare butt. "So what are you waiting for? I'll be here only for the weekend..."

That set the tone for the future. A wonderful future, I have to add, and I don't see any way it could be any better. Jamie returned to NE the next day and kicked ass back at her camp, topping the score sheets, and was rewarded by being stationed a mere thirty minutes away from our house. She moved back in.

The two women in my life fell into the new system rather quickly, and pretty soon, the three of us were sleeping in the same bed. Neither Stephanie nor Jamie never expressed, nor showed any desire, to be involved with each other, but they grew so close that Jamie would sleep with us even as her husband and daughter made passionate love beside her, barely an arm's distance away. Steph reciprocated when Jamie was the horny one, leaving her parents to their side of the bed.

It was an exhausting task, especially when there was never a single night when neither of them was horny, but hey, who wouldn't give anything to be in such a position?

Jamie never imposed on Stephanie any rules, now seen more as an equal - but not a threat - and while she would counsel Stephanie on any decision, if asked, it was only when Steph made the announcement that we knew for sure that she wasn't against becoming a grandmother. Any doubts we may have had were shot out when she bought us two tickets for a 'honeymoon' at some off-the-maps island to celebrate our promotion from 'couple' to 'parents.'

And so we named the first one Jackson, after her father, a guy she knew I had never been able to like all that well. Just to show that she was the most important person to us, as we were to each other.

I should have been intelligent enough to stop before this footnote, but for proper closure, I have to update anyone who managed to get this far into my life on the current situation. Stephanie finished her college, and we had to move into a more remote location because the society would have a tough time accepting a woman who had two children fathered by a 'coward' who wouldn't come forward. Thankfully, the new place was a laid-back village where we could flaunt our relationship without being hounded.

More importantly, our kids had a father - me.

Now that Stephanie's on the family way again - there's little else to do on our farm - and this being her fourth grandchild, Jamie has promised to hang up her boots after one last case.

Ironically, she's after a guy who's raped his own daughter...

Guess there are all sorts of people in this world, isn't it!