Two Daughters

Chapter 1.

It's strange how friendships form, isn't it, reader? Often, when your children are young, their friends' parents become your friends. Still others form from work relationships, some from sports or club affiliations, and even from groups like Rotary or The Lions.

Some just are.

Jim Monie and I became friends because our wives worked together, and they were friends. My and Jim's wives were nurses at a now defunct hospital on Brisbane's east side. They're both Sagittarians, and that somehow made them bond. I have no idea why. My wife, bless her big heart, is the kindest, most generous, most spiritually beautiful person I've ever known.

Whereas Jim's wife, Ellen, is a bitch. A stone cold, raving lunatic bitch. How he stayed married to her until he, with my help, sorted her out is beyond my ken. She's pretty, though, so maybe that was the reason.

When our wives worked together, Jim had taken time off to complete a teaching degree, and I drove cabs. Because we needed the money, I worked the more lucrative Wednesday to Sunday night shift. This meant that my wife and I required someone to babysit our two boys on the weekends when Vanessa (my wife) had a shift. Jim offered to babysit for us because, with only one income, they needed the extra money we paid for babysitting duties.

Jim and Ellen have four kids. When I met them, their ages were Larry, 9. Tanya, 7. Isla, 6. And Jason, 4. Even back then, the girls were both very pretty. They both had startling blue eyes, blonde hair, and beautiful, upturned noses over pouting, cupid bow lips. Even at less than ten years of age, it was clear they'd be heartbreakers when they reached their majority.

But think about it, all by his lonesome, Jim babysat six children under ten: his four and our two, Gary, 8, and Aaron, 5. The man is a saint! Although he did say that none of the kids caused any real problems. They were all polite and respectful, and the occasional spats quickly ended.

The Monies and we Shephards became close friends, often hanging out and taking holidays together when we could. Watching our six children play, I wondered if my boys would pair with Jim's girls. Gary and Tanya seemed to spend more time playing together than with any of the others, and Aaron and Isla were the same.

I seemed popular with the two Monie girls, but I guessed it was because they were both 'daddy's girls' and saw me as kind of a co, or brother, daddy. Isla, especially, would immediately climb onto my lap and plant a big, sloppy kiss on my cheek as soon as I sat down at her parent's house. "Hello, Daddy Liam," she'd say before snuggling onto my lap, confirming my thoughts that she saw me as a kind of co-daddy.

If I didn't move her, Isla would stay on my lap until we went home. She only ran off to play with the other kids if I lifted her off and sat her on the sofa beside me.

We were tight with Monies for four years, but when Jim completed his degree, he took a teaching job in Rockhampton. The distance, plus family and time commitments, meant we hardly saw each other until Larry's eighteenth birthday.

Eighteen is a significant milestone here in Australia. On your eighteenth birthday, you get the right to vote, drink in licenced venues, join the armed forces, go to war, and die for your country.

Fortunately, Australia has never been stupid enough to instigate a war with another country. Unfortunately, we have blindly followed our Colonial Masters and Yankee Cousins into every conflict since our federation.

Vanessa, me, and the boys drove from Brisbane to Rockhampton to attend Larry's party. Being relatively young, seventeen and fourteen, the trip griped at them. To try and alleviate our boy's frustration, we allowed them to play whatever music they wanted. So, for the nearly seven-hour journey, Vanessa and I were subjected to an endless cycle of The Spice Girl's 'I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna, (ha) I wanna really, really, really wanna zigazig ah' followed by Miley's dad singing 'Achy Breaky Heart'.

By the time we got to Rockhampton. I would have cheerfully strangled every Spice Girl and Billy Ray!

After unpacking the car into the two rooms Jim and Ellen had prepared for us, I noticed that Ellen was in one of her 'moods'. So, once my boys had settled into their typical relationship with the Monie kids, I cornered Jim and asked if there was a pub or club we could walk to.

Jim revealed that the Rockhampton Leagues Club was within easy walking distance, so we slipped away from our wives' gaze and walked there. Buying some beers, I found an empty table. Then, sipping my beer, I asked, "What the fuck is going on, brother? You're miserable. Your kids are miserable. And fuck me, we've only been here an hour, and we're miserable, too!"

Grimacing, Jim explained, "Ellen hates you, Liam. When I'm with you, I'm different. More confident and aggressive, I suppose. When you and I are together, I won't let her push me around as I usually do.

"Then stop being a fucking pussy and push back when she's being a bitch," I growled.

His eyes filling with tears, Jim muttered, "If only it were that easy, Liam. She becomes unhinged if I push back at her increasingly ridiculous demands. She starts yelling and screaming, chucking things at me, and threatening to take the kids away from me."

"It might be better for you all if you let her, brother," I softly replied.

But before I'd even completed that thought, Jim was vehemently shaking his head.

"No, Liam, I can't," he stated firmly. "The kids have all, every one of them, begged me to stay. They fear being in the house without me being there to protect them."

"So stay and kick the fucking fruit bat out," I said, offering the obvious solution.

"Yeah?" Jim scoffed. "With our leftist/feminist/lesbian/poof-riddled Family Court, just who do you think will be given the kids?"

"But if Ellen is as deranged as you're saying, surely the counsellor will recommend you get full custody?"

Jim laughed derisively again, "Sure! And when little Mrs Purity does her Good Christian Woman act and lines up half her church to declare that when I kneel, my devil's horns show and that Ellen is a devout Christian and a good and loving mother? Who does the dyke or poof on the bench assign the kids to then?"

"Yeah, you're probably right," I replied.

I hate to admit it, but our Family Courts are so biased against men that unless the mother is certifiably insane and committed to an institution or homicidal and an immediate physical danger to her kids, they get the children in virtually every instance.

"Don't the kids get a say?" I asked.

"Larry is now legally an adult, so he can do whatever he wants. Tanya is sixteen, so she might be able to choose, but the other two are under sixteen, so even though the counsellor will listen to what they want, they don't get a say in the court's decision."

We sipped our beers in quiet contemplation before Jim dropped a totally unexpected non sequitur, "Larry's got the hots for your wife, by the way. He asked me how I thought you'd react if he asked her to be his first."

My beer halfway to my mouth, I froze. Unfortunately, my subconscious mind kept going through the motions of tipping the glass so I could drink, and I poured half the glass into my lap.

"Where the fuck did that come from?" I bitched, trying to wipe the beer away before it soaked my trouser front. "Brother, you just don't go casually dropping that your son wants to fuck a man's wife into a conversation without preparing the poor prick first!"

Laughing at my discomfiture, then laughing harder when I stood to wipe my pants off only to see it looked like I'd wet myself, Jim said, "Well, mate, how was I supposed to do it? Chat about some stupid bullshit, then say, 'Hey, mate, look, you know my son Larry? Yeah, well, he's got this thing for your wife, and I think he wants her to be his first.'"

"That would have been better, brother! Much damned better," I replied. "So, yeah, next time, do that!"

"Wouldn't have been anywhere near as funny, though," Jim declared, laughing his fool head off.

In the end, I realised it would have been funny if it had been someone else! So grinning, I said, "I will get you for this, you know that, right? Maybe I'll lie and tell you one of your daughters wants me to be her first!"

Jim looked at me levelly for a time before dropping my gaze and looking down at his beer. Then, as he brought the glass to his lips, I'm sure he muttered, 'That might not be a lie." But, he couldn't have, or wouldn't have, even if it were true, so I immediately dismissed it from my mind."

Accepting that I had no choice but to face the knowing grins of the other patrons, I stood to go to the bar and refresh our beers. Handing a glass to Jim, I sat and mused, "Larry has the hots for Vanessa, huh? How does one even have that conversation with one's son?"

"Look Liam, it's not like Vanessa isn't hot! I mean, those sparkling green eyes under that tangle of dark red hair? Wow! Plus, she's got a body to die for! What about her tits? Surely, they have to be at least a C-cup? And on a body that's lean and toned? Jaysus! What is she, 163 cm (5-ft 4), and maybe 54 kg (120 lbs)?"

Nodding, I admitted, "About that."

"Then she wears that bikini that hides nothing! I expect her boobs to fall out with every step she takes, but they don't because they're that firm! And her ass doesn't wobble at all when she walks as it's that toned and taut! Then, as if all of that wasn't enough, she has freckles sprayed across her nose and cleavage. Mate, I'm telling you, your missus is a walking, talking erection maker!"

Getting a little heated, even though I loved the attention Vanessa got from men and women alike, I growled, "Been looking much?"

"Oh, give it up," Jim smirked. "You love it when guys look. You always have."

"Your wife's pretty hot, too," I pointed out.

As I said earlier, Ellen is pretty. Being quite tall for a woman at 175 cm (5-ft 9) and weighing a toned 65 kg (143 lbs), Ellen looks almost Teutonic. She has flaxen-coloured hair over pale blue eyes and high cheekbones over an almost square jaw. Her body is muscled instead of toned, as Ellen lifts weights and has competed in amateur bodybuilding competitions. Her breasts are high, firm granny smith apples on her thin chest.

"Yeah, but where your missus has a sweet, innocent, butter-wouldn't-melt-in-my-mouth personality, mine is an absolute bitch!"

Exasperated, I snarled, "So leave the bitch!"

Holding my gaze steadily, Jim replied, "No. I promised the kids I'd be there until they left home."

"Well, you're fucked, then," I muttered.

"Yup," Jim morosely agreed. Then he looked at his watch and said, "Ellen will have started dinner, and I'm already in enough shit as it is. Do you mind if we go back?"

On the walk back, I ventured, "Larry and Vanessa?"

Jim sighed, "I asked who he wanted to invite to his eighteenth, and Vanessa was the first name he said. Then he grudgingly said the rest of you could come too if Vanessa came. I asked, 'What the fuck is that about?' He admitted he had the hots for her and wanted her to, in his words, 'show me how to be a man!'" Jim shook his head before saying, "I agreed I'd broach the subject with you because he thought you'd 'rip his head off and spit down his throat' if he asked. So that's what I'm doing."

"You do realise it's not only up to me, right? I'm pretty sure Ness will want to decide for herself," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but even if she were willing, and I doubt she will be, she'd never do it unless you told her it was okay."

I thought about what Larry wanted all the way home. Very early in Vanessa's and my relationship, I realised Ness' sexual appetite was as voracious as mine. Underneath her innocent façade lurks a seriously sensual woman that adores sex in all its forms and willingly indulges in them all.

As a result of that discovery, Vanessa and I created a marriage that isn't 'open' but isn't entirely exclusive, either. We have what we call a 'yearly day pass'. If one of us meets someone they'd like a 'dalliance' with, we discuss it and agree if it can happen or not, then discuss terms. As long as our spouse is happy with the terms and conditions, we get our 'day pass' and can spend one full twenty-four-hour day doing whatever we want with our dalliance. No questions asked or recriminations permitted.

I've used my 'day pass' every year of our eighteen-year marriage. Vanessa has used all of her eighteen but asked for and received six extras. We find having these rare erotic sexual affairs adds spice to our marriage, and we fuck like newlyweds for months after having one.

Just before we returned inside, I muttered, "I'll let Ness know that Larry wants to ask and that I'm okay with it."

Vanessa and Ellen were in the kitchen, and by the sounds of it, Ellen was expounding her litany of complaints against her husband. As typical for her, Ness was calmly nodding and making noncommittal sounds of sympathy.

However, as soon as Jim and I walked past, Ellen screeched, "And just where did you head off to? I work all day trying to earn enough money to feed this family, and when I come home, do you help get dinner ready? No! You head off to the pub with your mate!"

Looking at his wife calmly, Jim said, "Do you want to do this in front of our guests, or would you prefer to yell at me in the partial privacy of our bedroom?"

Still screeching, Ellen yelled, "Don't use that flippant voice with me, Jim! I won't put up with it!"

But she did follow him to their room and shut the door. Not that it helped with the volume level very much.

Vanessa looked at me, shrugged, smiled, and continued peeling potatoes. Walking up behind her, I put my arms around her shoulders, kissed her neck as I hugged her to me, and whispered, "Larry wants to ask you a question."

"Why doesn't he ask me, then?"

"He's scared you'll get angry, and I'll kill him."

"He told you this?"

"No, Jim did."

"Why on earth would he ask his father to ask you to ask me ... oh." The penny dropped. "He wants me to be his first? That has to be it! His birthday is tomorrow, and we're the only ones here to celebrate it. His party isn't until Friday night, so he wanted just us here to celebrate with him."

"Not us, Ness," I softly said.

Vanessa blushed and said, "Oh shit! He wanted it to be only me, but Jim knew you wouldn't let me go alone, so he insisted Larry invited us all."

Holding her tight as I slid my right hand under her T-shirt and ran it over Vanessa's toned tummy, I whispered, "I'm happy to give you a 'day pass' if you want, my love."

Taking my right hand in hers, Ness lifted her skirt and pushed my hand under her thong, and placed my fingers on her clit before pushing them down to her entrance. "Feel the warmth, baby? Damn! I'm already wet thinking about it! Are you sure you're okay with giving me a 'day pass' for Larry? I've had one already this year."

Thumbing her button as I delved two fingers inside her pussy, I answered, "Yes, baby. I'm pretty hot thinking about you doing it, too." I ground my erection against her ass to prove my point.

"Ellen's going to shit!" Vanessa giggled.

As Ness giggled, I moved my left hand onto her breast and gently rolled her nipple between my thumb and forefinger as I lightly bit where her neck and shoulder met.

Ness shuddered, and her hips jerked forwards, pushing more firmly at my delving fingers. "Stop that," she hissed. "Or I'm going to cum right here in the kitchen!"

"Do it!" I demanded, squeezing her nipple harder and curling my fingers onto her G-spot.

"Fuuuck!" Ness groaned quietly as she came on my fingers.

Hearing a door open, I pulled my hand out of my wife's thong, tugged her skirt down, and removed my other hand from her breast. Then, doing nothing more than cuddle her, I grinned and winked at Jim over Ness' head as he and Ellen walked in. Ellen wrinkled her nose at the smell of Vanessa's arousal, but Jim smiled and offered an air high-five.

I kissed Ness's cheek and patted her bottom before following Jim into the lounge. As soon as I sat, Isla, despite being fifteen now, climbed into my lap. Not thinking anything of it, I wrapped my arms around her waist, ensuring I touched her in a non-sexual way and kissed her cheek.

"Hello, beautiful Miss Isla. Are you already breaking boys' hearts?"

"Yes!" Isla averred. "But boys my age are so dumb that I shut them down as soon as they start jabbering at me."

"No special guy that you do want to talk to you?" I asked, pushing my bottom lip out and pretending to be sad.

"Not yet," Isla stated sadly. "There will be when I turn eighteen. But that's still three years away."

"What's stopping you from talking to him now?"

Isla was about to say something, but Jim growled, "Isla, enough! And get off Jim. You're too old to be still sitting in his lap!"

Tears welling in her eyes, Isla stood and stamped her foot, then glowered at her father, "You just don't understand!" She accused before flouncing out of the room.

As I looked at her swiftly retreating back, mystified, I was sure I heard Jim mutter, "I know damned well what you want, my precocious, wilful child. But you're waiting until your eighteenth birthday, even if I have to build a dungeon to lock you in."

Wondering what the fuck that was all about, I shook myself and said, "So them Broncos. Not going so well, are they?"

Jim knew that I couldn't give a fuck about Rugby League but wanted to restart the conversation, so he replied, "Better than the Chargers!"

"Only team worse are The Tigers," I added.

With our conversation flowing again, we chatted about this and that waiting to be called for dinner. After asking me if I wanted a beer, Jim left to get them.

As soon as he exited the room, Tanya sat next to me, her body touching mine, and took my hand in hers before pulling it into her lap. Then putting her head on my shoulder, she sighed happily and said, "I like it when you visit, Daddy Liam. Daddy smiles and laughs and tells jokes when you're here. He never does when you're not."

"That's very sad, Tan-Tan," I said, carefully moving our hands to where our thighs met. "But your dad loves you, so it'll be okay."

"You've called me that ever since I can remember, Daddy Liam," Tanya smiled fondly. "I know Daddy loves us because he shows us he does every day. But I hate seeing him so sad." Tanya turned to face me and sadly said, "Mum's being a bitch because she's feeling guilty for cheating on Daddy."

My blood running cold, I asked, "You know for sure?"

"Yes. She's screwing Doug, one of the orderlies on her ward."

"How do you know?"

"Because I came home from school with a headache, silly. They were doing it here on this couch!"

"They didn't see you?" I asked, my skin wanting to crawl at the thought of Ellen being fucked where I sat.

"They were too busy screwing to notice me. I doubt they would have noticed a herd of elephants walking through the house."

"Have you told your father?"

"Why would I want to make him even sadder than he is now?"

"Fair enough," I mused. "So why are you telling me?"

"Because she'll throw it in Dad's face when they're arguing sometime this weekend. Seeing you enrages her. Do you know why?"

"According to your dad, it's because he pushes back against her nonsense when I'm here."

But by the time I'd gotten halfway through that sentence, Tanya was shaking her head.

"Why then?"

"She wants to fuck you."

"What?"

"It's true, Daddy Liam," Tanya said firmly. "Mum's a submissive slut at heart, but Dad is too weak to make her submit. You aren't. You should probably smack her ass and make her orgasm. Then she'd probably treat you better. But that would make Daddy even sadder."

"Ain't never going to happen, Tanya!" I stated. "I'd rather jump off a cliff than do that!"