Life went on as planned with one hiccup. Daddy had begun a new business and was doing well, but had a horrible time finding anyone local with any great knowledge on computers that was available. They were all happily employed, and the others could all do the basics with expertise, but when it came to digging really deep, they didn’t have it.
Dad had mentioned this dilemma to me several times. As we sat across from each other one evening reading, I put my book down, got on my hands and knees, crawled over to daddy and stopped. Sitting back on my haunches I started pulling down his sweats and underwear.
“You could help a little Ed.”
Once they were off I placed my face in dad’s lap and took his cock in my mouth. Bobbing up and down, slobbering on his dick, moaning as I sucked and licked, hands on my his thighs and not around his cock, like a good girl.
I could feel his body begin to tense, he started raising his hips ever so gently. Doing something he’d never done before, he put his hands on each side of my head and gently face fucked me. Not penetrating deeper than I would normally suck, but with him being in complete control. With his impending orgasm I could tell he was fighting to make sure he didn’t jam his cock down my throat.
“Kitten I’m getting ready to cum.” I nodded and purred mmm, hmm around his cock.
I sensed that with every ounce of resistance he could find, instead of ramming his cock down my throat, he pulled back until my lips were locked around the head and let loose. He grunted and groaned, huffed and puffed, his abdomen convulsing as his baby girl sucked every drop of cum her daddy could provide. I was so turned on by him doing me like that, I vowed to try that again. Ultra erotic.
I licked around my lips, smiling as I pushed him down lengthwise on the couch. Once prone I lifted my night shirt over my head, dropped my panties and sat on daddy’s face. He ministered to my leaking slit, licking, probing with his tongue, keeping his tongue stiff and in place as I rocked against it. Slurping my juices as I ground my snatch into his face, it didn’t take long, and I was crying out. My hips fucked frantically, my tummy tightened, and my face was flush. Lifting off I lay next to dad, no time like the present to talk.
“Hon, I have an idea how we could solve your IT problems. Let’s bring Kevin up here. He hates where he’s at and feels trapped. Let’s get him moved, working, and help him find a nice Alaskan girl to marry.”
“What about his family?”
“His mom died shortly after we left, his dad hasn’t been in the picture in decades, his brother and sister living together have moved to Argentina with his job. I’ve been in touch with him minimally the past few weeks, something inside said to text him.”
“I’ll defer to you Gail, you know him more than I do.”
Kevin was moved to Juneau and went to work for us. As part of his employment package we moved him there, all he had was clothes and a few pictures. Dad rented a flat for him and prepaid it for six months. He also provided him with a company vehicle, a two year old pickup, nothing fancy, but adequate. Kevin had told his friends, the few he had, that he was moving to Maine to work in a graphics company.
His being in Juneau was the catalyst to take the company to a new level. Business was steady and prospering, dad felt good about being able to help Kevin get re-started in life. Kevin was not the party type and had trouble meeting girls. In one of my classes was a native Inuit girl, strikingly beautiful with her deeply tanned skin and coal black silk like hair. I sensed there were few people she knew and was too shy to put herself out there. Gee, kinda like Kevin.
With a little finagling I got both to our house on a Friday evening for supper and cards. Kevin and Betty hit it off right away. Kevin was surprised her name was Betty being native Inuit, she explained her parents were both professors and quite modern compared to her grandparents on the upper part of Alaska. Within weeks they were an item, within months wedding plans were being made.
Their wedding was small and very informal by todays standards. Kevin wore a suit, Betty wore an authentic tribal dress from her ancestral village. Her folks wanted to have a big shindig, Betty’s grandma suggested something more along the lines of a native ceremony. Kevin and Betty liked the idea and Gram agreed to come for the wedding, she hadn’t left her village since Betty graduated high school.
The ceremony was in a park on the Atlantic side of the island. The ceremony was lovely, but what stole the show was a pod of whales surfacing and diving as they traveled north. Perfect back drop, gram said it was a sign they would have lots of babies. Everyone sort of chuckled about it, until Betty announced a year later she was pregnant with what she called, “their first.”
With me in my last year of college I began hinting it was time to get pregnant. We had met a young doctor who was the by-product of a sister/brother marriage. He told us of a doctor in Canada who would run genetic testing on us, so we’d know whether we should have children or not. Another bonus is that it was out of the states and wouldn’t be available to stateside agencies. Our testing came back stating we were safe to have children.
I went off the pill in October and lying in bed Christmas morning I whispered the best present ever into daddy’s ear. His baby was growing in my tummy, I was 6 weeks along. The doctor anticipated a late June or early July baby. My tiny tummy started showing early, dad loved the baby bump, though it was barely visible unless he looked for it. He would run his hands over my tummy lying in bed. I was one of those who turned into a nymph while pregnant, doing everything I could to entice daddy for just one more fuck.
By now I’d learned how to make myself look older with makeup, until my body caught up to the normal progressions in life. People would congratulate us, several of dad’s customers were almost as excited as we were. Commenting how sweet it was to see the newlyweds, (we’d been married almost 4 years) having a baby. I carried Aggie out front, I had to lean backward to keep from toppling over.
At graduation time I was 7 months along. The picture on his casket was taken that day, from the angle of the shot you couldn’t really tell I was pregnant. Our first baby girl came into the world on July 6th, we named her Agatha after dad’s great grandma. I loved being a mom, loved nursing our daughter, even saving a taste for daddy from time to time.
Aggie was a pig on the breast, and the little hog made noise the entire time she nursed. By the time she was 15 months I weaned her to start ovulating again, eleven months later identical twin girls were born. We named them Christine and Clarise, although we probably should have named them double and trouble. It wasn’t that they were malicious or damaging, it was just that what one didn’t think of in the mischief department the other did. They insisted on being identical about everything down to their underwear.
Which brought about the confrontation when they were 12, about getting thongs instead of their regular bikini panties. Clarise was always the arguer with Christine as her back up. I explained they were not going to wear a thong at the age of 12. Clarise brought up Aggy could get one as well. Agatha told them not a chance, she had a hard enough time keeping her underwear from crawling up her butt without buying something that had a string purposely going up the crack of her hind end.
Clarise switched gears. Could they at least have boy shorts then? The sexy lace kind? Hell no, you could have some nice cotton boy shorts with cute patterns, but no lacy see through anything. As they were walking away I heard Clarise say, “See, I told you if we went for the thongs she’d let us have the boy shorts.” As I said, always into something.
It was uncanny to watch them at times, if one picked out an item of clothes it was what the other was thinking. All through their early childhood they were inseparable, if you looked for one you also found the other. They had determined early in life they were going to marry twin brothers, we laughed and put it in the silly department. Little did we know.
Two years later what was supposed to be a boy for daddy came out another precious little girl. We made the decision that our luck had been pushed far enough genetically and I had my tubes tied when Sylvia was born. With four little ones, my life and dads were busy.
Dad loved little ones around again and re-vitalized helping to dress the girls every morning. The highlight always being daddy to help put their panties on, get them adjusted, and a pat on their buttercup as he sent them off to get clothes. They would giggle and dance around waiting their turn, it was sweet to watch.
As each girl aged four I explained it was time for them to dress themselves. Dad missed it but agreed there were too many people with perverted minds who would think he was molesting his girls, and it really was time they took care of themselves.
When Sylvia was five and in kindergarten I was ready to go back into the work force. We hired the widow next door to come in every day at noon, be there when the girls returned from school and tend to their needs. Gertie loved to cook, I offered to pay her more if she would cook supper during the week. Gert would shop in the morning and by the time the girls got home there was usually fresh cookies, or cake, or some other treat awaiting them.
Dad’s business was due to receive an award at a city function and I hadn’t had a new dress since I started having babies. He and I went dress shopping, at one of the dress shops. The counter lady asked if Ed was my husband.
“Mmmm, cute. Shall we dazzle him? I know just the number to get his attention.”
“Oh, I never have trouble getting his attention.”
“Then let’s just show you off and see if he likes it.”
I had on a beige colored dress with a fit bodice and flared skirt, mid-thigh height and a little cleavage showing. As a mom of four I felt half naked. She brought me a pair of brocade black thigh highs and a pair of 4″ beige heels. Son of a bitch I looked good. Good enough to eat as daddy would say. When I stepped out of the dressing room dad’s eyes were the size of fifty cent pieces and I saw him push down on his groin.