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Robert & Caroline - Consenting Adults

by Arachnophile

“Mr. Wellman, this is Kate Bryant at Meadowbrook. Amanda … Amanda had another seizure a short time ago. After we had moved her to the intensive care unit in the medical facility yesterday, we, of course monitored her condition closely and …well …”

“Ms. Bryant, what happened? What’s her condition now?” I asked, prepared for the worst. Amanda, never in the best of health, had suffered a series of seizures contributing to a precipitous decline in her condition. I had spent as much time as I could with her. In fact, I had been home for only an hour in the early evening when Kate, the head nurse for ICU called.

“Amanda passed away ten minutes ago. I’m so sorry. We tried everything we could to save her. She had fought so hard but she was very weak, especially after the last episode. She …” Kate faltered; her voice catching. She cleared her throat and continued, “… we all really loved her.”

“Thank you, Ms. Bryant. I’m coming right over.” So, my youngest child was gone. She was only 22 years old. She had been born with Down syndrome among myriad other health problems. I prepared myself to call my older daughter, Caroline, and tell her of Amanda’s passing.

It had been 6 years since their mother, my wife Marianne, died from breast cancer. My attention then centered on Amanda, of course, and on Caroline who was a freshman in college when Marianne passed away. Caroline now lives in Boston with her partner, Victoria, and is a behavioral scientist and PhD student at Boston University. Now 24, she is a lesbian and had come out to me and to Marianne at 16. I am a faculty member at the University of Wisconsin-Madison in the history of science, medicine, and technology department.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Caroline, it’s Dad.”

“Hello, Daddy. Amanda’s passed away, hasn’t she?” Caroline is always direct. She has a strong personality and is at her best when things are toughest. She never minces words.

“Yes, Caroline, I just got a call from the hospital. It was another seizure and she couldn’t recover.” She sighed and said to me, “I’ll fly in tomorrow morning.” And then, “My poor, dear sister.”

We were silent for what seemed a long time.

I said to her, “I’ll meet you at the airport. Just e-mail me your schedule.”

“OK. Daddy, how are you holding up?”

“I’m all right, darling.” Wanting to be solicitous of her, I asked, “How’s Vickie?”

“She’s working late; I’ll call her now. She’ll come later. Do you need any help with the arrangements? Is there anything you’d like me to do from here?”

“No, sweetheart; I’ll take care of everything. I love you, dear.”

“I love you, too, Dad. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Caroline’s well being concerned me a great deal while she was growing up. Amanda’s condition consumed a lot of the family energy so I tried hard to keep things as normal as possible for Caroline. Marianne and I hoped she would thrive in our disciplined but loving environment. We impressed upon her the idea that nothing of value was ever obtained without effort and that she should develop a philosophy of living and stick to it. (Our other hope was to provide a good example to her.) We encouraged her to achieve academically, which she did; and I was delighted to discover that we shared a love of the intellectual life. She was athletic in school as well as a top student. I tried never to miss any of her games. I had always believed in the Greek concept of a sound mind in a sound body. (I still train 5-6 days a week and I am active in masters’ track and field.) Caroline came to embrace it as well. She was close to her mom and missed her very much.

Marianne and I knew well before Caroline told us that she was attracted to girls and not boys. When she came out to us, our immediate acceptance and support was a relief to her, in no small measure because it confirmed that our stated commitment to tolerance and our oft expressed disdain for bigotry was true.

She told us later that since she was our only chance for grandchildren, she thought we might try to deny it. On the contrary, we let her know that her happiness was more important than anything else. Because we trusted her and had confidence in her ability to distinguish right from wrong, we wanted only what she wanted. She presented herself as an ethically sound, responsible person and we loved her very much. Besides, she could still bear a child; she didn’t need marriage to a man to do that. That would have pleased her mother very much.

Marianne and I fell in love when we were just seventeen. We married when she graduated from nursing school. I was already in graduate school in Minnesota; she worked to support us until I managed to secure my current position in Wisconsin soon after getting my M.A. and ultimately finished my Ph.D in the third year of our marriage. The next year, we had Caroline, our first child. Two years later, Marianne gave birth to Amanda. Having a disabled child can either bring a family closer together or cause it to fragment. I’m proud to say, we pulled together. Marianne was a good mother and wife. I loved her beyond measure and was always faithful to her. I had never been with another woman even in my college years. Since her death, I have not sought female companionship as I feel it would be disloyal to her memory. I was grieving for Marianne still, and now Amanda was gone, too.

Marianne and I loved Amanda very much. The struggle to care for her appropriately was as nothing compared to what she added to our lives. I always wanted the best for our youngest daughter and felt guilty for placing her in an institution after Marianne died. It was certainly the right thing to do as she received better care than I could provide. She made friends among the residents and the staff. Amanda was well liked.

Since Meadowbrook was in town, I visited her almost every day, even if only for thirty minutes and took her home most weekends. She never complained; she was always happy to see me. The hardest thing for me was the need to occasionally explain why her mother didn’t come to visit her. Amanda would forget and ask me about Marianne from time to time. Though I don’t believe in anything supernatural, I spoke to Amanda as if I did.

“Mommy’s in heaven, Amanda. She’s waiting for us there.”

“OK. Can I go see her?”

“No, darling, we can’t visit her yet.”

“OK. Am I going to heaven some day?”

“Yes, darling; you are.”

“When?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart.”

“OK.”

And then she would hug me. It would be a cliché to say that Amanda taught me about unconditional love, but she truly did.

Caroline and Victoria, “Vickie,” stayed for a few days after the funeral. I appreciated their company. I thought they were a great couple. They were certainly looked very striking when together. Caroline is shaped much like her mother. She’s around 5’ 6” tall with long brunette hair, flawless complexion, and an hourglass figure accentuated by her big breasts. Vickie, while very pretty is by contrast slim, small breasted, fair-skinned, and freckled with a thick mane of auburn hair.

My daughter and her partner met in college as sophomores. They had each dated some but were looking for a stable, long-term relationship; Caroline because she appreciated the strength in her parents’ commitment to each other and recognized its benefits; Vickie because she never experienced anything like that from her divorced and overly critical parents. They had never accepted Vickie’s sexual orientation and refused to acknowledge Caroline.

I, on the other hand, consider Vickie my daughter-in-law. She is a lovely person and I would like her very much even if she were not my daughter’s partner. I made sure they had the maximum amount of privacy whenever they visited. They seemed to appreciate that and always elected to stay in our family home when in Madison for holidays.

“Robert, have you thought about what you’re going to do now?” Vickie asked the evening after the funeral as we sat at the kitchen table over mugs of herbal tea.

“I don’t know that my life is going to change that much. I still have my routines. I just won’t be visiting Amanda most every day. I’ll concentrate a bit more on teaching and research, I suppose.”

“Well, why don’t you come visit us this summer? Spend some time in Boston.”

“That would be nice. I’m sure there’s some research I can do in Harvard’s and M.I.T.’s archives for an article.” Summers were for doing the research necessary to publish, which was needed for tenure. I had achieved tenure some years before but still felt the obligation to be fully engaged as a scholar.

“Maybe what you really need is a sabbatical. There must at least one book you would like to write if given the time.” Vickie was a marketing director for a bio- technology firm on Route 28 near Boston. Working with PhDs, she understood the pressures that accompany academic life. “Have you thought about that?”

“You know, I haven’t. I tend to just get in harness and pull, I suppose. Thanks for mentioning sabbatical as an option.” I took her hand and squeezed it. “I appreciate your thinking of me.” She pressed it in return.

“You’re always welcome, Robert,” she said. “Caroline and I worry about you.”

I made an effort to fill in the spaces left by her chronically under-appreciative family. Her two older brothers treated her like a leper, though she was close to her oldest niece, who thought Vickie was “cool” because of her independence and achievement.

Before I could reply, Caroline came into the kitchen. She looked so much like her mother now that it hurt sometimes to look at her. After all this time, I still missed Marianne terribly. Caroline had recognized this and for the last year would occasionally ask me if perhaps I should pay more attention to my personal needs and begin to see my life as moving into another phase. Though it was not something that I cared to discuss, I felt I couldn’t refuse to engage with her when she brought it up.

“You know, Dad,” she said sitting down across from me and next to Vickie, “perhaps it’s time you started seeing someone.”

Slipping her arm through Vickie’s she continued, “You’re lonely and you need someone to care for and someone to care for you.” As I said, Caroline is almost always direct and to the point with me.

Trying to deflect this recurring but uncomfortable issue, I said, “Yeah, well, I’m getting too old. You know how I am with my devotion to schedules and lack of social skills; I don’t think anyone would have me.” Vickie and I laughed but Caroline was serious.

“Not true. You are wonderfully sociable when you want to be. You’re just an introvert.”

She was correct. Caroline knows because Vickie is an introvert, also. Caroline, more an extrovert, understands that about Vickie, which is why their relationship works so well. Of course with introverts, there’s the danger of focusing too much on ourselves, which can blind us to the comfort and support that contact with others can bring. Knowing this, Caroline continued to press her point.

“You’re only 50 and you look 40. You’re fit, active, and engaged with the world. Didn’t you tell me that Claire McKenna has expressed interest in becoming more than a friend and colleague?”

Claire is an attractive, blonde divorced mother of two college-age boys with an office down the hall from me. Willowy and delicate featured in appearance, she’s very different from Marianne, who was more solid and even voluptuous. Claire is from Edinburgh, Scotland and joined the faculty two years ago. She teaches modern European history with a concentration in public health and medicine. We spend a lot of time in each other’s offices as we’ve become good friends. We even authored an article together this year. The rest of the faculty think we should be dating.

“I’ve met Dr. McKenna and I like her. Maybe you should give that some thought.”

“Thank you, Caroline. I’ll take it under advisement.”

“Seriously, Daddy; Vickie and I are concerned.”

“Yes, Robert, we are,” Vickie said. “This house is too big for just one person. And now without Amanda coming on weekends, it will seem even bigger.”

I knew they were right. Still, I said, “I think I just need some more time.”

Caroline frowned. “You always say that.”

On that note, we broke up and retired for the evening.

I was settled in bed with a book when there was a knock on the door.

Popping her head in the doorway, Caroline said, “Hi; OK if I come in?”

“Of course, dear; have a seat.” She sat on the edge of the bed as I set my book down.

“I’m sorry to have badgered you before but I was … I am … concerned. You might think it’s none of my business, but ...”

I took her hand. “Caroline, it’s OK. You know I don’t mind.”

“You say that but you’re very stoical. You don’t complain; you just keep it inside.”

“No one wants to hear me complain.” I sighed. After an uncomfortable silence, I said, “OK, I suppose you’re right. That’s how I deal with things. I’m not as direct as you are.”

“Daddy, you’ve never gotten over Mommy,” she said abruptly. “And it’s not healthy.”

Stung, I released her hand before replying, “Caroline, it’s not easy. I loved your mother from the time we were in high school. I’d never even kissed another woman when we got married. It may seem obsessive or even silly to most people, I suppose, but even after all this time I would feel disloyal to her.”

Caroline got up from the bed and walked to my closet. Taking a large cardboard box off a shelf, she placed it gently on the bed. “I know about this,” she said to me. In the box were some of her mother’s clothes.

“When we were here at Christmas, I saw it open on the bed when I glanced in the doorway; I recognized Mommy’s skirt and it caught my attention. You hadn’t closed the door completely. Vickie had taken the car while I puttered around in the garden so you probably didn’t hear me come back into the house.”

I felt stricken as she went on.

“When I looked into the room, I saw you with your back to me. You were on your knees holding Mom’s blouse to your face. You didn’t move for a long time. I was stunned by that. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to snoop. It really hit me hard, though.”

There wasn’t much I could say, so I just mumbled an apology of sorts.

“You don’t have to apologize; it’s nothing to be sorry for. It’s just that maybe you need to think about making some changes in your life. That’s what I meant about your continued devotion to Mom being unhealthy.”

Seeing how sad I was, she tenderly said to me, “I love you, Dad. Vickie and I both love you and we’re concerned. You’re not taking care of yourself emotionally. You’re drifting.”

Folding my arms across my chest and hunching my shoulders I looked at her and then away. We both knew this is what I might have said to her were our roles reversed.

“I think you bury yourself in your work because it provides a convenient excuse for not dealing with personal issues. When was the last time you had sex?” she enquired.

I feigned an indignation that I didn’t really feel. “Caroline! What a question! I never ask you about your sex life.” I was actually glad that someone cared.

“You can ask me anything you like. When was the last time you had sex, with another person, that is?”

“Caroline …” I knew she wouldn’t give up. “I … don’t remember,” I said weakly and unconvincingly.

“Yes, you do. I’ll bet you know the exact date and time. It was probably just after Mommy was diagnosed and before she got really sick.”

Caroline was right. It hurt me to think about making love with Marianne. My eyes suddenly filled up despite my effort at control. I couldn’t speak; the tears just rolled down my cheeks. Embarrassed, I kept my head lowered. Caroline sat nearer and put her arms around me.

“I love you, Daddy. I see you suffering and you won’t say anything; not just now but for the last six years.”

We held each other close and I found it comforting. It had been a long time since I held someone that close and felt like that.

“I’m sorry I’ve upset you.”

“It’s all right. I’ve just been rocked by Amanda. I’m not usually so emotional.” Caroline felt just like Marianne. It was a bit eerie.

“No, you aren’t but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel things. You are the most empathetic person I know.” I was surprised that she noticed though I should not have been. Caroline understood me better than I thought. It made me feel both comforted and uncomfortably conspicuous, as though under a microscope.

She continued, “I’ve always loved and admired you. It would have been so easy to just let things slide with me, what with Amanda and then Mom’s illness. I was pretty independent but you never took that at face value. You knew what I needed before I knew I needed it. You made me feel special. You made me feel loved even if I resisted it at times. You’re the best father a girl could have.”

“Thanks, Caroline.” I wiped my eyes. “I know I’m being selfish and stubborn about your mother. I’m not sure that I can help that. I appreciate your concern but … I just don’t know what I can do.”

She gently touched my face and said, “You can find someone, Daddy, and let her in.”

With that she kissed me good night and got up to leave. From behind, looking at her through my tear-blurred eyes, she looked a lot like Marianne. At the doorway, she stopped and turned to me.

“Maybe what you need is someone to help take you out of yourself.”

She closed the door softly and left me to think about what she had said.

Caroline and Vickie flew back to Boston the next day. I saw them off at the airport. I wished they lived closer. We missed each other and before they left had me promise to visit them in Boston during the summer.

Caroline was right: I was lonely and I did need someone. I just couldn’t face up to abandoning Marianne and to replacing her with someone else. That was the corollary to what Caroline said; that’s what it would entail. At the time I thought it would make me a traitor to Marianne’s memory and an emotional coward.

The landline phone in Caroline’s apartment rang and then I heard Vickie’s familiar voice come on the line, “Hello?”

“Vickie … it’s Robert.”

“I’m doing well, thanks. I’m taking the month of June off and would like to take you guys up on your offer to visit for maybe a week. I will stay in a hotel and not get in your way.”

“You will not; you’re staying with us. And that is a great idea. When did you want to come?”

“Oh, I thought maybe the week of the 15th bracketed by the two weekends, if that’s all right.”

“Well, I’ll be away on a retreat with my firm that week. But that would be perfect. It would give you and Caroline a chance to spend time together, to re-connect.”

I didn’t see that much of Caroline and I missed her, but I also wanted to see Vickie and told her so.

“That just means you’ll have to come again for a long weekend before the summer is over. Caroline will be pleased.”

“Is Caroline there?” I asked.

“No, she went back to the laboratory this evening. She has an experiment with rats she’s watching very closely so she goes there at least for an hour a couple of evenings each week. You can reach her on her cell phone. They’re actually kind of cute.”

“Pardon me?”

“The rats, I mean.”

“Oh, OK; I won’t disturb her. Just tell her I’ll call tomorrow evening.” I’m still not used to having everyone available at all times through the proliferation of the mobile telephone.

“All right; I will.”

“Thanks, Vickie. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Good-bye, Robert; take care.”

A week before departing for Boston, Caroline called me at my office.

“When should I expect you, Dad?”

“I’ll be arriving around noon on Saturday. I thought about renting a car but decided that I can use public transport and cabs to get to wherever I need to go.”

Caroline said, “You won’t have to; you can use Vickie’s car whenever you want as she’ll be flying to her retreat. Besides, I’ll be free the whole time you’re here.”

“That’s great, but don’t feel as if you have to spend all your time with me.”

“Dad … I’m really looking forward to spending time with you. I especially want to discuss career possibilities with you. I’ll be getting my PhD soon and will need to make decisions. I want to get your perspective.”

“Of course, dear; I’m happy to give you my opinion any time, though people in your field can advise you better, I think.”

I thought Caroline had already done a pretty good job in preparing for her career.

“Yes, they can in regard to certain aspects, but you know me in ways that they don’t.”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s true. I’m looking forward to it. I’ll help any way I can”

As I packed the night before my trip, I began to think about Caroline’s behavior toward me. I asked myself if maybe she was being somewhat too solicitous. I couldn’t point to any one thing to suggest this, just the accumulation of many little things.

There was her interest in my sex life and the way she hugged me that evening of our conversation in my room. Was it my imagination or did she press her breasts firmly into my chest? She also rubbed my back up and down the same way I would do with Marianne or she with me. Then I began to understand that Caroline looking so much like Marianne might have been the reason for my attention to all this.

“Yes,” I decided, “that was it; that I was imagining things, connecting all these behaviors and incidents to my loneliness for my late wife.” I laughed at myself in relief and also some embarrassment, I’ll admit, and finished my packing.

Caroline met me at the airport. During the ride home, we first talked about Vickie and how she was doing in her career. We then started to talk about Caroline’s direction at the end of her program. She could either go for a post-doctoral fellowship at a university or look to start working in industry.

“Are you leaning one way or the other,” I asked her as she maneuvered through mid-day Boston traffic.

“No, not really,” she said. “I may just look to see which opportunity looks the best.”

“What does Vickie say?”

“Hmm … well, Vickie and I have talked about it a lot. Of course, I’ll stay here in the Boston area. I really love her and don’t want to be separated from her. But I also want to make the best long-term investment that I can in my career. And it’s not least because I want to be able to offer Vickie the opportunity to pursue graduate school if she wishes. It’s a lot of options to weigh.”

I nodded. “That’s what your mom and I did. We made the decision to have me complete my preparation first, assume a secure position, have children, and then I would support your mother’s graduate work later on if she so chose. It was a good plan. We just didn’t anticipate Amanda’s condition and the care she would need.”

We rode in silence for a while and then we were there.

“Hi, Mrs. Gunderson!” Caroline called to her landlady, who was attending to the flowerbed in the front yard. Caroline and Vickie rented the top floor of a house. They had first moved in when they were college juniors four years before, like it, and stayed. I had gotten to know their landlady, a very nice person who seemed to appreciate and enjoy her responsible tenants. “Look who’s here.”

“Hello, Ella.” I said as I hugged the elderly woman. “How have you been?”

“Ah,” she said in her Swedish accent, “goot for an old lady, Robert.”

We laughed and engaged in some small talk. Caroline took my bag upstairs. Never shy about saying whatever came to mind as Caroline and Vickie once noted, Ella suddenly said to me, “You know ven I first saw you and Caroline together two years ago, before I knew who you v’ere, I thought you might be her lover.”

She laughed and covered her mouth in mock embarrassment. I assured her that I was flattered by what she said.

“Of course, ven I came to know the girls better, I saw how wrong dat vas!”

And we laughed some more.

Caroline and I spent the next day sightseeing in Boston. It was nice to be with her again. We discussed her career plans and we were both assured that she was on the right track.

On my second evening there, Caroline wanted to cook. Since we're both pretty good in the kitchen, I thought it a great idea. I like helping and it would be nice to have someone to cook with and then share dinner. I ate alone too much.

Caroline and Vickie like good wine; I don’t much care for any kind of alcohol. I would never drink if I knew I would be driving and only occasionally had a small glass of wine or a glass of beer at dinner when with them. Tonight, I acceded to my daughter’s request to try a white wine she and Vickie had found recently and thought to be quite good. That led to something that even now is hard for me to believe happened.

After dinner, we sat on the sofa listening to music and discussing both Caroline’s studies and my current projects and impending class load. Unused to drinking, the wine had made me relaxed to the point of near “fuzziness.” Caroline leaned forward to pick up something on the coffee table. I’m embarrassed to say it offered me a clear and unobstructed view of her breasts through the low cut of her blouse.

She was not wearing a bra and I had spent the evening studiously avoiding staring at her nipples, which were clearly visible through the thin fabric. Now, however, I looked right at them, too slow to pull myself away. Caroline saw me seeing her and then I saw her seeing me. I turned red. She laughed.

“I’m sorry! Did I embarrass you?”

I muttered something about her not being 10 years old any more and she laughed again.

“Well, Vickie and I tend to go about scantily clad at home so I’m modest by comparison. I’m sorry to have upset you.”

I was a little woozy but managed to say,

“No, no … I’m not upset. It’s just that you’re … so attractive.” What was I saying? Embarrassed, I tried to recover. “Oh … sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, and moved to sit nearing to me on the sofa. “You’ve seen me naked before; just not as a woman.” Caroline laughed. “You shouldn’t be afraid of that. We’re adults and you’re my father. Over the years, I managed to see you naked, too.”

I must have looked slightly bewildered. Caroline sort of half-smiled as she downed the last of her wine.

“Besides,” she continued, “I’ve not only seen you naked, I’ve seen you having sex.”

“Caroline, what are you talking about?” I was startled and was made more than a little uncomfortable by what she had just said.

“Young kids are curious. I found a way to peek into your bedroom from the attic, there’s a small hole in the corner of the ceiling, and would sometimes watch you and Mom having sex. You can’t blame me for wanting to learn as much as I could about it. I was around twelve years old and had recently started masturbating so I was horny.”

Dazed, I could only utter, “You saw us having sexual intercourse?”

“Yes,” she said. “And a lot more than that. Don’t be embarrassed,” she said. “Kids are smart enough to figure out that their parents have sex. I was so glad to actually see it because at the time I was worried about you two getting a divorce.”

“A divorce? Us?” I was surprised by that.

“Yes, because a couple of my friends at school had parents who were divorced and they told me that sex usually led to their parents’ break up. It was either they had stopped having sex and drifted apart or they were having affairs or both.” Caroline shrugged. “So, when I knew you guys were having sex, I felt relieved. You know, I think it made me feel more secure.”

I just stared at Caroline, not knowing how to reply. This was my daughter talking! “Darling … I’m really surprised.”

“Dad, don’t be troubled by that. I learned about sex from you and Mom anyway. You never made it a secret and taught me it was part of life. I just took it a step farther.”

A little unsettled, I finally said, “I guess I’m glad you were comforted by knowledge of your mother’s and my intimate life. It’s just that, well, it’s a little disconcerting to know that you actually saw us.”

Untroubled, cool as can be, Caroline said, “I wouldn’t worry about that too much. We live in an age where almost everything people do is recorded and displayed somewhere. The Internet has any erotic imagery you could think of and some you could never imagine.”

I knew that was the truth. Being alone, I occasionally used pornographic Web sites as masturbatory aids.

Then Caroline said, “In fact, Vickie and I made an erotic film. We haven’t posted it anywhere but we did it. Are you shocked?”

“Well,” I said, “yes, I am. I guess I’m more prudish than I thought, though I suppose I shouldn’t be.” In response to what she just told me, I said without thinking, “You and Vickie are certainly beautiful and I have no doubt your performance was … hot.”

I couldn’t believe I had said that. Caroline had caught me off guard in a big way. The wine certainly didn’t help.

“Would you like to see it?” she said.

“Uh … I don’t think so; maybe later, but not right now.” What could I have said? This was more than I was prepared for. The problem was, of course, that I really did want to see it. Caroline looked too much like Marianne for me not to be interested. I thought, this is what being a sexual pervert must feel like.

“You must think I’m sexually warped,” Caroline said. Before I could even formulate an answer, she continued, “Well, I don’t believe that I am. I do have a strong professional interest in human behavior, sexuality especially and particularly that of women. But I was introduced to it by seeing you and Mom. I first saw a woman being eaten when I saw you go down on her. It was quite unexpected. I thought, ‘Eeow! Why would anyone do that? That’s disgusting!’ Until, of course, I saw the effect on Mom.”

The most intimate act that I performed on my precious Marianne was witnessed by our daughter. I was confused as to how I should feel about that. On the one hand, I was glad Caroline saw two people she loved and trusted engaged in the joy of sexual love. On the other hand, I felt somewhat violated, though Caroline was only a girl at the time with a child’s natural curiosity. Well, maybe not so natural.

Caroline took my hand. “Dad, this is a lot to absorb all at once. I’m sorry I shocked you. I just hope I haven’t offended you.”

“Well, no, Caroline, I’m not offended; maybe a bit uncomfortable.”

“How about turned on?” she asked slyly.

“No! Uhh … well … maybe a little bit.”

Caroline laughed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t tease you.” Then she turned to me, saying, “Or maybe I should.” She sat closer and let her long hair brush my face as she tossed it over her shoulder. She looked a little flushed from the wine.

Caroline now leaned over and nibbled my ear. I was mortified to note that, indeed, I was turned on. I felt my sex stirring and now her nibble gave me chills up and down my spine. I was alarmed; both because of the possibility that I might be more than subconsciously attracted to my lesbian daughter and because Caroline might feel it.

Then, it was too late.

Pressed against me, now, Caroline whispered, “I can feel you getting a hard on!” and gently caressed my erect penis, now showing clearly through my pants.

I was in a panic, now. My beautiful lesbian daughter was stroking my penis through my clothing. Though it felt good to be touched, even by my daughter, I jumped back as the incest taboo was still stronger than my desire. It was clear that Caroline had no such inhibitions.

“Darling, we can’t …”

Caroline stood up and started undressing. She took off her blouse and let it drop to the floor. She undid her jeans and stepped out of them. She then took off her lavender lace panties and I saw my 24-year old daughter’s shaved pubic mound. Caroline was stunningly gorgeous, shapely in a way that reminded me of her mother.

She presented a picture of such pure and unfettered eroticism that I could not look away. Incest did not seem so “taboo” at that moment. I’m sorry to say (not so sorry, not sorry enough) that I was filled with the desire to kiss and caress my daughter’s beautiful body.

Standing nude before me, Caroline changed her demeanor and was now somber. Quietly, almost whispering, she said, “Do I look like her?”

“Yes, you do. You look very much like your mother.”

“And do you like what you see?”

I nodded, dumbly.

Speaking softly, Caroline said, “Describe her to me, Daddy, the first time you saw her naked as your wife.”

I sighed and looked off into the distance recalling our wedding night. We had driven for three hours after the reception. We were going to have a brief honeymoon in the Adirondack Mountains and then back to school for me and the start of a first professional position for her.

“We were in a simple little cabin by a lake. It was the very beginning of summer and the nights were still a bit cool in the mountains. We started putting our things away in drawers. I was unpacking a suitcase and barely noticed that your mom had stepped into the bathroom. In a few minutes she emerged in a long , cream satin bathrobe and a black velvet choker around her neck pinned with a silver clasp.” I hadn’t allowed myself to recall that moment for some time.

“She had black stockings on with a garter belt and no panties. I remember I stopped dead still and just looked at her. I had never seen anything so beautiful. We were husband and wife; we belonged to each other. I thought then that we would keep each other from ever being lonely.” I stopped speaking as the memory left me with a catch in my throat. When I resumed, it was to recall my precious wife looking masterfully seductive. “Marianne opened her robe and let me see her beautiful breasts, the little curve in her belly, and the dark, glossy hair between her legs.”

I looked up at my nude daughter and described the differences and the resemblances.

“You’re slimmer than she was. Mom was slightly chubby; I found her irresistible. You have the same texture hair and when you wear it long it looks exactly like hers.”

I stood up to face Caroline. She hadn’t moved, listening intently to my description of her late mother.

I stepped up to Caroline and took her face in my hands, kissed her lips, and continued my narrative. “I walked up to her and kissed her.” Caroline closed her eyes and opened her mouth slightly, enough to moisten my lips and for me to feel her wet warmth and the taste of wine.

As I boldly cupped Caroline’s left breast, I said, “I put my hand to her breast and caressed it.”

Caroline stood with her eyes closed feeling the pressure of my palm on her nipple. I bent down to kiss and lick her there. She let out a soft moan.

“I kissed both her breasts; they were warm and full. There was heft to them, much like yours.” Caroline shuddered as I sucked gently.

“I put my hand on her sex to find it very wet; to find my Marianne ready for love making.”

I slipped my middle finger into my daughter’s wet, bare pussy. As I licked my finger with a smacking sound, Caroline opened her eyes, wide. I said to her, “I put my wet finger first in my mouth, then in hers.” Caroline then took my finger and put it into her mouth.

“I undressed and we lay on the bed covers and had our first intercourse as a married couple.”

Caroline knelt before me, undid my pants, took out my throbbing cock and began to give me a blow job. The pleasure was indescribable. I stroked her beautiful hair and felt Marianne. I was transported back all those years to that day when she and I started our life together by having sex in that cabin.

“I fucked your mother slowly and passionately. She was like a precious objet d’art; I was enraptured, enthralled by her beauty.”

I took my rod out of Caroline’s mouth, quickly finished undressing, and gently laid her down on the area rug in the center of the room. As I positioned my face between her open thighs, I said, “I put my face in Marianne’s molten sex and rubbed my mouth, my nose, and my chin in her wetness.”

With that, I began to lick my daughter’s moist, shaved, cunt. I tasted her salty, sweet vaginal fluids. Her pussy was luscious; liquid, warm, and seashell scented. I ran my tongue up and down and inside of her labia, stopping to lightly suck and to pull softly on lips of her sex with my lips. I moved the tip of my tongue to Caroline’s clitoris and heard her sigh.

“Oh, Robert, that’s wonderful. I thought only a woman could do this to me.”

I bore down a bit and started to suck her clit harder. Caroline’s hips rose to meet my pressure. I grasped her buttocks as she came; I gently and lightly ran my tongue over her clitoris in an attempt to prolong her pleasure. I kissed her belly and lay beside her. I had helped my daughter to come and was glad to have done so. As Caroline recovered, I said to her, “Your mother taught me pretty well, I think. How did it feel to be on the receiving end of that act you saw so many years ago? Did you feel as if you were she?”

“Yes, I did. I wanted to feel what it was like to be Mommy, to be loved by you in that way.” Caroline then whispered to me: “In case you’re thinking it, yes, I planned this seduction. I loved Mommy and she loved you. I want to be her tonight. I also want you for my own selfish reasons. You are the only man I’m attracted to. I’ve thought about this for a long time.”

She stood up and reached for my hand. “Let’s go to bed now, Dad.”

Somewhat dazed, I followed my naked daughter into her bedroom. Standing by the bed, I put my arms around my precious Caroline and rested my head on her shoulder. I pressed her nude body to me and held her close. It was so good to feel her!

I let my hands explore the smooth curves of her figure. I touched her gently, softly, my fingers finding their way into her intimate openings; I felt the moistness of her vagina and I touched the puckered flesh of her warm anus. I next caressed her large, firm breasts. I then took my child’s face in my hands and kissed her lips, passionately. She opened her mouth in response and we touched tongues. I was electrified.

Caroline lay back on the bed with her legs spread and started to masturbate. I quickly moved to mount her.

“Caroline,” I asked, “what about birth control …”

She said, “I have a diaphragm; I’m prepared for you.” Caroline opened her legs and extended her arms, inviting me to enter her pussy and lie atop her.

I tenderly placed my erect penis at Caroline’s warm, very wet entrance. I slicked the head of the cock in her moisture. I pressed it gently but firmly all the way into her.

I was now fucking my daughter, my eldest child. I was committing incest and was too inflamed by her to feel any shame or remorse. Filled with lust, I wanted desperately to shoot my semen deep inside her.

In the briefest of seconds, I was slotted to the balls. Caroline gasped as I filled her beautiful pussy.

“Oh, God, yes! Fuck me, Robert. Fuck me!”

I moved in and out of her slowly, savoring every moment. I had never been with anyone but Marianne. Now, I was with my beautiful, sensual daughter looking as if she could be her mother’s sister. I wanted so much to please her. I ground purposefully against her swollen clitoris in an attempt to stimulate her. She moved her hips upward, arching her back and breathing heavily. I fucked her for several minutes and then withdrew my erection and turned her over. Now on her elbows and knees, Caroline waited to be penetrated.

Before I resumed fucking her, however, I bent down and licked hard between her buttocks. I ran my tongue up and down the crack of her ass and around the rim of her gorgeous anus. I even started to tongue-fuck her asshole. At the same time, I gently massaged her clit.

“Please don’t stop,” she moaned. I would take my darling to orgasm. I tried to thrust through her anus into her sphincter but, alas, my tongue wasn’t long enough. I could rub her to a climax, though. It wasn’t long in coming. Caroline started tightening her asshole and moving her hips, signaling her progress. She came for the second time with my face in her ass and my fingers in her cunt. Spent, she lay on her belly with her face in a pillow.

She slowly raised herself on all fours and looked back to me. I hugged her bottom and kissed it, smiling at her. She smiled back and said, “Oh, wow … did you do that to Mommy?”

“Yes, I did. We did that a lot; I loved licking your Mom’s pussy.”

“And I’ll bet she loved sucking you off,” she said as she turned and took my hard cock in her mouth. Caroline resumed giving me a blowjob. I ran my fingers through her hair as she fellated me. My sweet daughter was either a natural or she had practiced for the occasion. She sucked gently at the head while stroking the shaft. The pleasure was incredible. She looked so beautiful giving head. I could feel my climax building. “Caroline, I’m going to come!” I cried, now completely given over to this incestuous passion. I fired a warm shot of cum into my daughter’s mouth. She made a gulping sound as she swallowed my semen.

Caroline and I cuddled on her bed. She spoke first. “I love you, Dad. I can’t tell you how happy I am that we’ve had sex.”

“I’m not exactly sure how to think about this, darling, but I’m not sorry we did it.”

“Did you enjoy fucking me, your daughter?” she said, playfully.

“Yes, I was so excited to be with you.” Excited? I was ecstatic! “You are so beautiful. Every inch of you is so gorgeous. I could lick your sex for hours.” I would have happily spent a whole day nuzzling her dripping cunt.

“I loved the way you ate me and fucked me,” she said. “I also enjoyed the anilingus. Did you lick Mommy’s asshole, too?”

“Yes, I did.” I laughed and was slightly embarrassed as I said, “She was so cute about it: she thought she was being so naughty! I also used to touch her there while I licked her pussy.” This evening was the first time I’d talked about us, Marianne and me, and our intimate life.

As I continued to stroke her body, Caroline was becoming aroused again. She said to me,“I want you to fuck me and love me the way you did Mommy. Can you cum in me, now?”

I kissed her and said, “I can certainly try.” I was completely erect again. I wanted so much to cum inside her.

Caroline spread her legs. I rose and knelt in front of her. She was the perfect picture of sensual womanhood. I placed my hard cock between her pussy lips, leaned forward, and pushed into her. She was warm, soft, and very wet. I moved slowly in her cunt, wanting to savor every moment that I possessed her. My baby, my child! I loved her and felt no shame, only desire. I drilled her pussy, thrusting in and out swiftly and forcefully. She was starting to cum so I thrust faster.

“Oh! Daddy! Daddy! Fuck my pussy! Oh, God, yes!”

Caroline writhed in orgasm; I continued to pump into her slit. I was starting to lose control.

“Caroline, I’m cumming inside you, honey, I’m cumming! Ugghh!” I fired off my load of semen into her hairless cunt. The orgasm was wonderful. I withdrew my sensitive, tired cock and, breathing hard, lay beside my dear child. I had committed incest with my daughter.

After we had rested for a while, I turned to her and said, “I’m really surprised. I thought you only desired women.”

“That used to be true. Lately, I’ve become more sexually adventurous. Vickie and I have other partners, though we love each other very much. I cannot imagine being committed to anyone else but we don’t own each other’s genitals. She and I trust each other. We don’t need formal arrangements or contracts let alone the custom of fidelity to bind us together.”

Immediately upon uttering that rather formal statement, she laughed at herself.

“Listen to me: I’ve been in school too long; I sound like I’m reading from an anthropology text book! As I said, I’ve been exploring and that’s included some men but only in threesomes. I still prefer women and prefer Vickie to anyone else, but I don’t mind being fucked by guys if they’re nice and if there’s a woman involved. Does that shock you?”

“No, surprising maybe but I understand. You’ve always been independent and assertive. I suppose your sex life is just another expression of that.” I couldn’t believe I was carrying on this conversation with my daughter in bed after we had sex! “I’m happy to be the beneficiary if that’s what our lovemaking was.”

“It was, partially; but as I said I’ve been attracted to you since I was a little girl, though not sexually, of course, not then. But now that I’m an adult, I decided to explore that feeling in an erotic way.”

I should have been ashamed or at least uncomfortable at having had sex with my daughter, but I wasn’t. What Caroline had suggested when she questioned me that night was correct: I had been without sex and physical tenderness for too long.

I stroked Caroline’s lower back and bottom. Tenderly sliding my hand into the crack of her ass, I gently touched my middle finger to her asshole. She turned to me, propping herself up on one elbow, as her breasts swam together. She smiled and put her hand out to touch my face. “I feel so good, Dad.”

“So do I, sweetheart. You are an incredible lover.”

“Me?! I don’t see any evidence of old age in you. You fucked me like a man possessed.”

She was right; I was inspired by her.

“Yeah, I guess I was. You are so beautiful. When you undressed, the sight of you took my breath away.” Caroline smiled; my opinion seemed really to matter.

I took her hand and kissed it. “I’m not thinking about your Mom now, Caroline. I’m seeing only you.”

She smiled. “I’m so glad. That was what I wanted, for you, for us, to have a sexual experience. I wanted to have you, to love you in a tender, physical way.”

“Well,” I said, “it was a lucky coincidence that Vickie has that conference or retreat or whatever it was.”

Caroline smiled and arched an eyebrow as she said, “Well, Vickie doesn’t have a conference. She agreed that I should be alone with you.”

“Really?” I said, surprised and curious. “Does she know you planned to …”

“Yes, we discussed this after we got home. Vickie understood how I felt and agreed that I should. She even suggested that maybe she should try seducing you!” Caroline started laughing as she said, “But we both knew you wouldn’t touch her if she fell on you, so that wouldn’t have worked.” She was right.

“Where is she, then?” I asked.

“She’s staying in a hotel within walking distance of her office for a week. She loves you, you know. She always remarks about how kind you are to her, how accepting. That’s no small thing to her.”

Dear Vickie; how kind and generous of her to share Caroline with me. And how daring!

We lay together, chatting as if we did this every day. (For the rest of that week we did do it every day!) After several minutes, Caroline took my hand and closing her eyes, held it to her lips. She opened them and looked at me with some seriousness, held my hand in both of hers and said, “There’s something you should know about Mommy and you should hear it from me.”

“What do you mean, dear?” Was Marianne having a love affair? Is that what Caroline was going to tell me? My stomach started to turn over.

“The summer before I went away to college, Mommy and I were spending a lot of time together. You know, doing ‘girl stuff’ in preparation for my going away. I was going to miss you both and I was leaving Amanda. I didn’t know what that would mean for her, if she would understand it. Anyway, it was a highly emotional time for all of us. Mom and I had been out shopping for clothes. We were alone: Amanda was on her school trip to Bay Lake, if you remember, and you were in Toronto for a research seminar. I was trying on some of the clothes and Mommy was fussing with hemming things and arranging them … well, we started talking about what it was like for Mom when she was my age and preparing for school. Of course, she talked about you and how much she loved you.”

“Did she?” I knew Marianne loved me and I was happy to know that she told Caroline, but why was she saying all this now? “And I loved her. Still love her, as you know, but go on with your story.”

“She told me she thought she would lose you to someone else when you went away to school. She loved you with all her heart and was feeling anxious about parting.”

I understood Marianne’s concern: I feared I would lose her to someone else while we were apart. It turned out that it was quite unnecessary for either of us to be afraid. Caroline, breaking into my reverie, told me more.

“While I was talking about looking forward to meeting other girls that were ‘out,’ Mommy suddenly told me about a relationship she had with a girl in nursing school. I was surprised. Did you know about that?”

“Well, sort of; she told me something about a girl having a crush on her but very few details. I never pressed her to tell me things if she didn’t want to. What did she tell you?”

“Well, I asked her about the girl and how she felt about her. Mommy said the girl had a real crush on her and that she also found the girl attractive. It turned out that one night they slept together as girls will do after staying up late and gossiping. Mom said that the girl, Nicole, snuggled up to Mom and put an arm around her. Mom said she didn’t think too much of it until Nicole started feeling Mom’s boobs. She said Nicole started kissing the back of her neck. The way she described it was that at the same time, as if they’d practiced it, they both sat up and started taking off their clothes. They ended up making love that night. Nicole taught Mom what girls who like girls do when they’re together.”

I was surprised. I didn’t know Marianne had had a lesbian experience.

“Well, while she was telling me this, I went from shock to excitement. I stood there in my bra and panties getting turned on; my pussy started getting wet.”

My eyes must have betrayed my astonishment. “Yeah, I know it’s weird; I’m sorry, Dad.” Caroline was full of surprises this evening.

“So, I asked Mom ‘Did you like it?’ She said, ‘Yes, I did.’ Being curious as well as horny, I asked her what they did after that. Mom described it in some detail and said that she was surprised at her own behavior and retreated from it. Nicole, of course, was hurt. Mom felt badly for Nicole. She said that they never discussed it again after that and Nicole never made another advance.”

I said to Caroline, “If I know your Mom, she probably felt that homosexual love, lesbian love, was going to be too emotionally loaded for her. She could be like that.”

Caroline said, “She also was in love with you and felt guilty for having betrayed you.”

This was a side of Marianne I hadn’t suspected existed. I was stunned, frankly. So this is what Caroline had to tell me.

“But that’s not all, Dad. I have something else to tell you.”

What else was she going to tell me? Then it dawned on me: Oh, no! I thought; Caroline and Marianne had …

“As she was telling me the story, I noticed Mommy couldn’t help looking at my breasts. I watched her eyes travel down my body to my pussy. She must have been taken back to that time with Nicole, a bit of unfinished business for her, I think. As I said, I was wet and overcome by the story and by a side of Mommy that I couldn’t believe. As she had suddenly become wistful at the thought of Nicole, I stepped forward and put my arm around her. There were tears in her eyes. I suppose she felt guilty for having led Nicole on but, of course, a single night’s affair doesn’t make a girl a lesbian. I was deeply impressed by the emotion that she felt after all those years; it surprised me. Most people never think of their parents as having much of a sexual life, let alone a complex or interesting one.”

“Yeah, and the reverse is true: parents don’t like to think of their children as sexual creatures.” I looked a bit sheepish, I’m sure, and I said to her “You and I have done perhaps the most shocking and taboo thing a father and daughter can do.”

“Yes; and I loved it.” Caroline leaned toward me and kissed my lips. I responded by caressing the back of her neck as we kissed. I began getting hard again.

She abruptly broke away and went on with her story.

“So, I slowly got dressed as we discussed her feelings. Mom stood up, dried her eyes, and said that she hoped things would go well for me in Boston. I told her I was looking forward to it. I pecked her cheek and went to my room.”

I was eagerly listening to Caroline, now.

“Later that evening, after Mommy had gone to bed, I went back to your bedroom to talk to her. She was awake and thinking, she said, about Nicole. Well, I lay down next to her, stroking her hair, telling her it was OK, that I was sure Nicole got over it, that lesbians got crushes on straight girls all the time and straight girls sometimes got curious enough to go farther than was good for either of them.”

“Suddenly, Mommy turned to face me and said, ‘But I loved sex with her, Caroline, and I denied it to her and to myself!’ I couldn’t believe it. I put my head on her shoulder and gently stroked her face and hair. Mommy then surprised me by caressing the back of my neck as she moved close and kissed my lips. I’m not sure what came over me but I pulled her close to me and gently kissed her with my open mouth. She closed her eyes, parted her lips, and our tongues touched.”

My jaw dropped: Marianne and Caroline. But who was seducing whom?

“After we had kissed for some time, I moved to undress her. I took off her nightgown and then boldly kissed and gently sucked her breast. I put my hand on her pussy. She was wet and fragrant. I dipped a finger into her and she gasped. I met her eyes as I licked my finger. She looked at me wide-eyed and with her mouth open. I lay along side her and started to kiss her lips, her face, and her neck. Of course, I couldn’t wait to go down on her. I remember especially her reaction as my hand strayed down her belly to her vulva: she started and threw her head back and cried out. I felt her pussy and started kissing her from her tits to her pubic mound.”

I was stroking my erection as Caroline paused.

“Do you want me to suck you off?”

“No, honey, finish your story.” Shameless now, I wanted to hear more about my wife and my daughter having sex.

“I licked her vagina up and down. I took the soft labia between my lips and told her she was beautiful. I licked her clit until she came. I remember my face was wet with her pussy juices, just as you described it on your wedding night. Are you shocked, Dad? I can see you’re excited!”

“Yes, I’m both! What did your Mom do?”

“I lay on my back with my legs spread. I started rubbing my pussy. I said to her, ‘Please kiss me here.’ Mommy lay on her belly with her face between my legs and started to eat me out. She must have remembered what Nicole taught her because she brought me off expertly. We lay there that night making love and feeling alternately horny and remorseful for hours. We made love again three more times after that before I left for school.” Caroline looked at me with concern on her face. “Daddy, did I hurt you by telling you that? Forgive me if I did.”

It was eye-opening, I’ll say that. “I’m not hurt, darling. I’m just surprised. I didn’t know that side of your Mom. I suddenly feel sad for her. It makes me wonder whether she should have married me.”

Caroline looked me in the eyes as she said, “Daddy, Mommy loved you; Nicole was just an affair. You were the love of her life; don’t ever doubt that. She told me on one of the nights we slept together that she never thought she would be as happy as you made her. She felt loved and cared for and desired. It’s just that she seemed to be much more ‘sexual’ than either heterosexual or homosexual.”

I remembered that when I returned from Toronto that Marianne was especially horny. She kept surprising me with sex in unusual places and at odd times. We went to the movies and she even started rubbing my cock through my pants in the dark! Three months later, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and four months after that she was dead.

“You see, Daddy, I knew how much you loved each other. I knew the kind of hold she had on you and your imagination and what you meant to her. I was in love with her, too, as I’m in love with you now. I felt close to you because I felt so close to her. Does any of this make sense?”

“Yes, Caroline, it does. I’m glad you loved her physically and that she loved you the same way. Now, I’ve loved you in that way, too.”

She laughed and said, “You certainly have! Now, let me take care of this,” and took my hard cock into her mouth. I settled back and watched her suck my cock until it shot again in her mouth.

As we cuddled and fell asleep, I had a lot to think about.

The next morning, I awoke early. Caroline was still sleeping, facing away from me. I quietly got up and went into the living room. Although I don’t usually like running in the morning, I got dressed in my workout gear, took the apartment key she gave me, and went for a half hour’s run.

As I ran alongside the Charles River, I thought about everything that had happened and everything Caroline had told me. Having committed incest with my daughter was bad enough. The fact that I liked it was even worse. I had to admit I did not feel guilty. I guess it was because Caroline was no one’s fool. If she didn’t want to do something, nothing could move her. No shrinking violet she, it wasn’t as if I’d taken advantage of her. In fact, it was more like the other way around! She was sexually assertive, aggressive, even. I can’t say that I minded.

I thought, too, about Marianne. I was less upset by her affair with the girl in college and by the sex she had with Caroline than I was by the possibility that she had denied her sexuality. If she suffered because of that, it would make me very sad, indeed. “Oh, my dear Marianne!” I said out loud. Despite Caroline’s assurance to the contrary, had I kept her from her true self?

When I returned to the apartment, Caroline was awake and lying in bed. She called to me, “Daddy, do you want me to make breakfast?”

“Sure, darling, if you’d like. I’m going to take a quick shower.”

I stripped off my running clothes and dumped them into the clothes hamper. I ran the water until it was just right, stepped into the warm stream, and closed the sliding door. I was shampooing my hair when I heard the door open and felt a rush of cool air.

“Mind if I join you?”

I quickly rinsed the soap from my face to see Caroline leaning forward to kiss me. I started to get erect immediately. I took the bar of soap and began washing her all over, lingering over her pussy and between her butt cheeks. She reached down and stroked my cock. I got down on my knees and washed her feet and legs. I soaped her back and shoulders.

“Oh, that’s nice. Thanks,” she said.

As she finished rinsing her hair, I reached around from behind and cupped her beautiful tits in my hands. She leaned back against me. I turned her to the back of the shower and positioned her with legs spread and hands against the wall. I inserted my hard cock into Caroline’s warm, syrupy pussy. I slowly started to fuck her as the warm water splashed us. She started to moan as I built to my climax. Holding her hips I thrust hard into her as I came. I put my arms around her as my cock finished its spurting into her hot cunt. I withdrew from her, semen still dripping from the cock head. Caroline turned off the water and started toweling us off.

Still not completely dry, I led her to the bed where I licked her pussy until she shuddered in orgasm. I lay beside her, touching her skin and watching her breasts rise and fall with her breathing.

“I’m not the least bit sorry that we’re lovers,” I said to her.

“Neither am I,” she said, smiling.

As the rest of the week unfolded, Caroline and I behaved like the daring, new lovers that we were. I fucked her in a grove of trees in a city park in broad daylight. Caroline gave me a blow job in the back row of a darkened theater.

On our last evening before I was to return home, I was a little edgy. Although we had discussed the fact of our love affair during the week, we mostly devoted ourselves to the physical sensation of sex without too much reflection. I thought we should talk more.

“Dad, are you hungry?”

“Sure, darling. I could cook something, if you’d like.” I hoped to be able to speak with her about where we were going with all this.

“Actually, let’s go out to eat. How does tapas sound?”

Disappointed, but as we both enjoyed the cuisine of Spain, I said, “Uh … that’s fine with me.”

“Do you mind if I ask a friend to join us?”

I said, “No, of course not,” though I did. I hoped we could make it an early evening.

“You’ll like Lorena. She’s from Barcelona. She was an art major at Tufts and works at the Institute of Contemporary Art. She also knows the chef and we’ll get to try dishes that aren’t on the menu.”

BarLola, the restaurant Caroline had chosen also featured flamenco music. It promised to be an interesting evening. We arrived at 7:10; our reservation was for 7:30. We waited in the bar for Lorena. Caroline asked me about the effect of her sexual orientation on Marianne and me as parents.

“Dad, you and Mommy were always so tolerant of my being a lesbian. Did you discuss it much? Were you sorry things weren’t different?”

“Darling, it wasn’t that. Your mother and I never felt we were making the best of a bad situation. We knew it was your sexual makeup and we were glad you recognized it.”

“I appreciated the support and love you gave me. It meant a lot. Oh, here comes Lorena.”

I turned to see a strikingly beautiful young woman in snug jeans and white T-shirt. She was slim, small-breasted with long brunette hair parted on the right, and full lips. She was about 5’ 7” or 5’ 8” tall.

She stepped quickly and gracefully over to greet us.

“Hola, Caroline!” The two women kissed cheeks. Lorena turned to me and said, “Hello, Robert,” took my hand and kissed my cheek, also. “It is a pleasure for me to finally meet you. Caroline talks about you all the time.” So, I thought, Caroline and Lorena must see each other frequently. I wondered if they were lovers. Lorena became serious and said, “I am so sorry about Amanda.”

“Thank you Lorena. It’s very nice to meet you.” Wanting to change the subject, I said, “Caroline tells me you work at the ICA?”

“Yes, I wrote my senior thesis on Gaudí, a cliché perhaps as I am from Barcelona but …” and she shrugged her shoulders and smiled. I found her accented speech charming.

We enjoyed a nice meal at the restaurant. Lorena was an interesting dinner companion. She was easy to look at, as well. Caroline looked lovely in her tight-fitting black dress and thigh-high taupe stockings. She was so beautiful. Marianne never dressed like that, I recalled.

“We’re off to the ladies’ room. Don’t go anywhere,” Caroline joked, “we’ll be right back.” They looked lovely together. They made heads turn as they wended their way to the back of the room. Tomorrow evening, I would fly home. It would not be easy to leave Caroline. It wouldn’t be easy to see her again, either. There had been no time to process our “new” relationship. I braced myself for pain and regret as I would be left to myself for the rest of the summer.

The two women returned to the table and we began to discuss how accurately the restaurant offerings reflected the Spain that Lorena had left and that Caroline and I had visited.

A guitarist suddenly appeared and began to play a quick flamenco piece. The woman who had been the hostess, and waited tables as well, strode onto the floor and began to dance. She stamped her heels in time to the music and abruptly swung her skirts with each step. A bit heavy set and large breasted, she evinced a gracefulness that her full figure belied. She was passionate and accomplished in her performance.

Suddenly, Lorena stood up and walked to the dance floor. She took up a position opposite the dancer and the two of them proceeded to dance in perfect synchronization to the strumming and thumping of the guitar as if they’d rehearsed it. Lorena and the young woman were amazing together as they danced what Lorena later said was the Alegrias, a flamenco form with a 12-beat rhythm. I was impressed by the spontaneity of Lorena’s performance. “It was nothing,” she said in response to my compliment. “I have danced the Alegrias since I was a little girl. There are, you know, 24 different flamenco forms. It can be very complex and very interesting. And very sensual,” she added. She and Caroline exchanged a sly look, the meaning of which only became apparent later.

As we left the restaurant Caroline and Lorena were still debating the merits of post-modern art. I walked a step or two behind them, enjoying their display of youth and energy. I was lost in thought when Caroline turned to me and said, “I’ve asked Lorena to come back to the apartment for coffee.”

“Oh, that would be so nice,” I replied. Lorena was a lovely person though I was hoping my daughter and I would have the last evening to ourselves. There was much to discuss.

Caroline made coffee as Lorena and I talked about Barcelona, a city that Marianne and I visited on three occasions. We had enjoyed it, which pleased Lorena. She was justifiably proud of Catalonia’s capital.

“You must visit again and see how it has changed since you were last there and to see the effect of the European Union on daily life.”

I told her that I would do that. Caroline served coffee and we moved the discussion to a comparison of the art scene in Boston, New York, and in Europe. I mostly listened. Then Caroline got up and said, “Lorena, before I forget, you should try on that skirt I told you about.” And to me she said, “We’ll be right back.”

The two women went to the bedroom. I picked up a magazine and idly thumbed through it. They seemed to be taking a long time. Feeling impatient and anxious, I stood up and looked out the window at the quiet street below. It seemed to contrast with the turmoil I was feeling, the restlessness that this week with Caroline had produced to say nothing of the fact that my moral compass had gone disturbingly haywire.

I turned as I heard them re-enter the room and was stunned by what I saw. They were both naked except for black stockings and high heels. Lorena was as lovely as I expected. I just hadn’t anticipated confirming my surmise. Almost heedless of me, they embraced and kissed deeply. Lorena ran a finger through the crack of Caroline’s ass; my daughter grasped the other woman’s bottom and pulled her closer.

Lorena broke from the kiss, turned to me, and said,“Robert, you’re making me uncomfortable being the only one dressed. Take off your clothes, por favor, and join us.”

Caroline smiled and said, “Yes, Robert, let’s all go into the bedroom.”

I was disinclined to say “no.” I left my clothes in the living room and, fully erect, joined them in the bedroom. Lorena was already sitting on the floor by the edge of the bed licking between Caroline’s spread legs. I went up behind Lorena, knelt, and cupped her small but firm breasts. I massaged them for a bit and then started running my hands up and down her sides. I reached between Lorena’s legs and felt her wet snatch. Caroline was moaning. I positioned myself on my back and scooted underneath Lorena’s ass and started to eat her pussy. She wasn’t shaved like Caroline; Lorena had a nicely trimmed beaver. I liked the taste and the feeling of the wet pubic hair on my face and on my tongue.

After licking Lorena for some time, I stood up and went to the bed. As Caroline was being eaten, I kissed her, letting her taste Lorena’s moisture on my face. I massaged my daughter’s big tits while trying to drive my tongue down her throat. I stopped kissing her and positioned my cock near her mouth. Caroline eagerly started sucking it.

Pausing for moment and glancing in the direction of the beautiful Spanish minx at the end of the bed, she said, “Lorena, darling, come up here and help me; Robert needs a blow job.”

I knelt on the bed as the two lovely women took turns giving me head. They would stop, briefly, to kiss each other. I watched in amazement as they sucked and stroked me. After a minute of that, I stood up and helped both women to their feet. I wasn’t ready to cum yet. I wanted to enjoy being in each of their vaginas. I positioned them side by side leaning over the dresser. Bent over, I admired their lovely asses and their wet pussies.

I took Caroline first. Lorena, to her right, looked over and smiled at us as Caroline reacted to my cock driving up into her hairless cunt. She moaned quietly as I held her hips and fucked her with swift, hard thrusts. Not wanting to neglect our guest, I withdrew from Caroline and placed one hand on Lorena’s hip while I guided my cock into her wet snatch with the other. It was a lovely sight: a gorgeous brunette with my cock in her pussy and a view of the light purple star of her anus. Her tight ass jiggled only slightly as I drove into her pussy and bumped up against her asshole. I decided I wanted to cum inside her so moved more urgently, pushing my prick deliberately into her. It wasn’t long in coming. I gripped Lorena’s hips as I shot my semen into her quim.

We all laughed and exchanged kisses as we moved to the bed. I was intent upon giving both women oral pleasure, if I could. I buried my face in Caroline’s twat while she positioned Lorena over her face for cunnilingus. Caroline started sucking the cum from the Spanish beauty’s dripping vagina. Sitting on my daughter’s face, Lorena tossed her head back in ecstasy as Caroline licked and sucked at her hair-covered nether region. I moved to Caroline’s clit, wanting to take her over the edge. I sucked her clitoris the same way I liked being blown as if her clit were a tiny cock. Caroline stopped eating Lorena just long enough to climax from my oral ministrations. As she worked through her orgasm, I kissed her belly and moved over to suck Lorena’s tits. Caroline then resumed slurping Lorena’s pussy and brought her friend to a shattering climax.

We lay together recovering from our exertions. I held Lorena in my arms and gently kissed her face and stroked her hair. Caroline, laying her head on Lorena’s belly, stroked our Spanish lover’s thighs.

“You were right, Caroline, your father is as passionate as you are. So tell me, Robert, would you ever consider marrying a poor Spanish immigrant girl with an arts degree?”

We laughed at her playful suggestion, but I suddenly realized that Lorena was only the third woman I’d ever fucked. Also, there was now another person besides Vickie who would know about Caroline’s and my incestuous relationship. Before I could think too much about it, Lorena moved her head down between my legs and started sucking my cock. I immediately grew hard. Caroline smiled at me, and then turned over on her back with her legs open.

“Take me, Robert. I want Lorena to see you fuck me and shoot in my pussy.”

Lorena, who Caroline later told me she was quite the voyeur, flashed her brightest smile and said, “Yes, let me see the two of you make love.”

She then sat up next to Caroline to get a good view as I knelt between my daughter’s legs. Fully erect and throbbing, I mounted my darling and guided my erect penis into her warm, wet, waiting vagina. I thrust right to the hilt and began pumping her tenderly but forcefully.

Lorena said, “I’ve never seen a father fuck his daughter before. You two are beautiful together.”

She reached out and touched my face. She bent down to kiss Caroline’s hand and then sat back to watch our coupling. Looking down at my sweet daughter, I was overcome with desire for her. “I love you, Caroline.”

“I love you, Robert.”

Caroline was very wet. We looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Again, I did not see Marianne; I was seeing my not-so-little girl fucking me, her father. Her shaved cunt was smooth and warm. Lorena moved around the bed getting of view of our fucking from different angles. I was starting to build to a climax.

“Caroline,” I gasped, “I’m coming!”

“Yes, Robert! Shoot it! Shoot it!”

That was all I needed to hear. I exploded in her pussy and collapsed on top of her. Caroline sighed: “That was wonderful.”

“Ay, maravilloso!” Lorena cried. She then gently took my softening penis into her mouth and licked it clean. She carefully and tenderly inserted her middle finger into Caroline’s pussy. Withdrawing her finger and seeing it covered in cum, Lorena put it in her mouth and sucked the cream down with a look of pleasure. She giggled and we laughed with her.

Lorena dressed and left a short time later. She thought we should be alone on my last night in Boston. I held my daughter, now my lover, close as we talked about what happened during the week and what it would mean. I fell asleep and woke up the next morning thinking about what I had come to and why.

In my isolation I’d lost touch with things. I had kept my dead wife’s memory close, too close. Caroline was right: it was unhealthy, but was this better? This is what loneliness did, I thought, to people who believed, arrogantly, that they were in control, who thought independence better than interdependence. Focusing on Amanda made it even easier to distance myself farther and farther from life. How convenient for me that Amanda couldn’t tell me that I needed to put my old life aside. She was perpetually a child, always dependent on me and that was enough to keep me on my downward spiral. It added to the sense of justification I had created to explain away my solitude.

I had been living in a world of my own construction with no one to share it. I invited no one else in; listened to no one. I thought it all right to keep on and that I knew better than everyone else. As a consequence, there was no one there to tell me to stop. Caroline saw that and took decisive and unorthodox steps to rescue me.

“The reason why I wanted us to be with Lorena last night was because you needed to have someone other than me. But you know that, don’t you?”

We stood together near the entrance to the security area at the airport. I had checked in online and had just checked my luggage. My flight back to Wisconsin was leaving in 45 minutes.

“Yes, I do,” I replied. “And I also know that this certainly isn’t sustainable. We could hardly have run away together. Even if we weren’t father and daughter, I would be foolish to have an affair with so young a woman and your place, of course, is with Vickie who more properly loves you. But this was wonderful; I’m so grateful to you, Caroline.”

“Yes, it was wonderful and you don’t have to be grateful. I was thrilled.” Caroline put her arms around me and hugged me tight. My normally unsentimental daughter had tears in her eyes when she said, “I love you so much, Dad.”

I chastely kissed her cheek and said, “I love you, too, darling. Good-bye and take care. I’ll call you soon. Give my love to Vickie and thank her for me.”

During the flight home, I thought more about Marianne. I reached the conclusion, based on my own experience and what Caroline had said, that Marianne really did love me and that she was satisfied with our intimate life. She might have had a stronger desire for women, certainly more than I had thought possible, but in the end she chose me. I had to accept that and not worry about whether or not she had denied an important part of herself. I could only have acted on what I knew at the time. I did not need to rake myself over the coals about it. Marianne, my dear love, I said to myself, I did my best for you. I loved you with all my heart. I could not have done any more than that.

“Hallo?”

“Hello, Claire? This is Rob Wellmann.”

“Oh, Rob; how are you? I’m so glad you called. How was Boston?” Claire was genuinely happy to hear from me.

“I’m well, thank you, Claire. Boston was … interesting.”

“Now that you’re back, do you need any help with things … you know … settling things at home … I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be pushy or to pry.” Claire’s Scottish brogue was so comforting all of a sudden. I had missed it.

“No, Claire, you’re not prying. I appreciate your concern. In fact, I called to ask if you would help me. I need to dispose of Amanda’s things.”

“Of course I’ll help you. I’m glad you asked,” she said. “Such a sad task; you shouldn’t do it alone.”

I took a deep breath and then said, “I also need to dispose of some of Marianne’s things, too.”

“Oh!” she said, surprised. “I didn’t know that you ...”

“Yes, I know. I’ll explain it to you when I see you. I thought we might get together soon; if you’re not too busy, of course.”

“Ah no, Robert,” she said softly in her lilting Highland accent, “I’m never too busy for you. I think you know that.”

“Yes, Claire, I do know that.” She was right; I did know very well how she felt about me.

“So Rob, are you free tomorrow evenin’?”

“Yes, I am.” I had no one else to attend to; I had made sure of that over the last six years.

“Let’s have dinner together then.”

The next evening, I picked Claire up at her house. I kissed her chastely on the cheek as we greeted each other. Although I wanted to become closer to Claire, I felt awkward, unsure of myself.

“Thanks for seeing me Claire,” I said to her as I pulled the car away from the curb and into traffic.

“Rob, you don’t have to thank me. I always enjoy being with you.” Claire lightly touched my arm.

“Yes; and I know that. Claire, I … I’m sorry that … for the longest time I’ve seemed …” I was having trouble speaking to her. I was conscious of having kept her at arm’s length. I suppose I was feeling guilty and embarrassed … strangely uncomfortable as I never was with her before. “I’m sorry I’m not speaking clearly. I’ll … “

“Let’s wait until we get to the restaurant,” she said softly. “We can talk a wee bit more easily there. “

From across a secluded table in a restaurant we occasionally frequented, I told Claire about my desire to make changes. I confided to her that I needed to take control of my life; that I had been, as Caroline put it, “drifting.” I told her I had quietly but stubbornly put on blinders but that Caroline had made me see what I was missing. I admitted to her that I had never fully come to terms with Marianne’s death and told her in some detail what it had been like for me.

“Of course, I understand completely. From what you said, you two were very close for your whole adult lives.”

“Yes, that’s true but everything has changed for me. Part of this had to do with Amanda’s death but mostly it was because of Caroline. This past week she helped me to see things about myself that I had not wanted to see.” Was that ever an understatement!

“Then she’s very wise,” Claire said. “So, tell me Robert: what did you discover?” She sat back in her chair, chin in hand, and looked at me intently with her beautiful green eyes.

“That I was alive but not living and that I had a lot of love to give but didn’t share it with anyone. And that I needed to be loved in return.”

“Hmm …” she said. “That’s a lot to have learned in just a week.”

I looked at her across the table. “Yes, yes it was. I learned that I had been sleepwalking through life the last six years.” Claire nodded, looking solemn. I pressed on.

“Claire, I loved Marianne with all my heart. I was faithful to her when she was alive and even after she was gone. She meant everything to me. When she died, I was shattered and couldn’t get past it. I was stuck.”

Claire looked at me, saying nothing, allowing me to continue. “But I know now that she’s never coming back and that I need to keep on living.”

As Claire leaned toward me I placed my hand over hers. Looking down, Claire said, “Robert … I don’nuh what to say ...”

“I think you know why I’m telling you all this, now.” I firmly took her hand. “I know I’ve been remote from you; always keeping my distance, fending off intimacy. I’m sorry if I hurt you. It wasn’t that I didn’t notice; I was just too … caught up in the past and couldn’t admit that what I was doing was wrong. It was self destructive and unfair to you. I hope you’ll forgive my stupidity.”

“Robert, you’re not stupid.” Claire leaned forward and covered my hand with hers. “You were very sad when I met you. I even thought you might be clinically depressed, but you were always guarded, always too dignified to ask for help.”

“I was sad, for a long time.”

Claire said, “I did think that maybe you enjoyed bein’ with me, that maybe you felt better when we were together. I hoped I was makin’ a difference in your life.”

She had made a difference, though I hadn’t wanted to admit it to myself. “You have made a difference to me, Claire. I want for us to be closer, if that’s something you would like.”

“I want very much to be close to you. I’d hoped you would notice how I felt and hoped that you would maybe want the same thing. I’ve so wanted for you to let me in.”

Those were almost the exact words that Caroline had used: “… find someone, Daddy, and let her in.”

“I’ve noticed, Claire, I have; I’m sorry it took so long. I don’t want to be lonely anymore and I don’t want you to be lonely either.”

When Claire smiled at me I noticed the tears in her eyes. She said nothing as we finished our dinner. I motioned to the waiter for the check, paid it, and we left.

In the parking lot, as I opened Claire’s door, I stopped, took her in my arms, and kissed her. She put her arms around my neck, buried her face in my shoulder, and clung to me fiercely.

“Take me home with you, Rob, please.”

“My dear Claire!” I whispered to her as I held her close. “I want you so much.”

I took Claire home with me that night. (She rather brazenly called her sons to say she wasn’t coming home. I wondered what they must have thought!)

In the soft light of my bedroom, mine and Marianne’s, I undressed Claire McKenna and told her how much I loved what I saw. At 47 years old, her body may not have had Caroline’s marble smoothness, her breasts may not have been as high or as firm, but to me she looked ravishing. I was finally able to admit that I was in love with Claire. Now my overpowering desire was to show her how beautiful and sensual I thought she was.

As she stood before me, I tenderly caressed her all over, giving special attention to her breasts and bottom. I put my hand into the soft, warm space between her legs with its downy fur and firmly cupped my hand over her now-wet sex. I started to run my fingers through her long ash-blonde hair as I kissed her lips, her nose, her forehead, and her cheeks. I knelt before her kissing her pussy and caressing her smooth tush. I gently laid Claire on the bed. Lying next to her, I inserted a finger into her vagina and started to rub her clitoris. At the same time, Claire began to stroke my erection.

She now pushed me gently onto my back and mounted me. Claire hovered above me only briefly before guiding my hard-on into her wet cunt. She leaned forward and above me letting her long hair touch my chest. I pulled her to me and French kissed her deeply. She broke off and started moving rapidly up and down on my cock, fucking herself with abandon. I reached up and massaged her tits as we fucked. Claire was so hot! I had not expected such passion from her. “I love you Robert! I want you to cum in me!” she cried.

“Yes, darling, I’m going to shoot inside you,” I replied. Our first fuck; it was exciting and fulfilling.

Claire was massaging my cock with her hot quim. She began taking me over the edge.

“Claire, I’m cumming!” I cried.

“Aye, Robert; cum inside me!”

I spurted into Claire joyously. She milked my cock with her pussy until I was spent. I lifted her off my prick and kissed her and held her close. I now laid Claire on her back. I wanted so much to bring her to orgasm. I dived between her legs and started tongue-fucking her snatch. I stuck a finger into her slippery cunt searching for the G-spot just inside and at the top of her opening. I sucked Claire’s clitoris as I sought that sensitive area within her. I must have found it as her hips started bucking and she climaxed with a deep moan.

As we lay together afterward, I thought about the many lonely nights I’d spent in this bed after Marianne’s death. Now I was no longer to be alone; no longer this bed’s sole occupant. By our love making we had claimed it for us, Robert and Claire.

I held Claire close to me and said, “I love you so much, Claire. I love you and want you now and for always.”

She rested her head on my chest, hugged me back, and said, “That makes me so happy, Robert. I’ve been in love wit’ you almost since the moment I met you.”

So, as quickly as Claire and I had become lovers, we almost as quickly became husband and wife. I love Claire very much; I’m devoted to her with a strength and commitment I had thought I no longer possessed.

That was the gift that Caroline gave me. She gave me the gift of desire, of course, that she had awakened in me after I had put it aside for so long. But it was not only the desire for sex; it was the desire to find a companion and to live fully and completely again. Caroline and I never slept together after that week and, as if by mutual agreement, we never mention the passionate sex that we had. In some ways, it’s almost as if it happened in a dream.

Almost … but I know that it really happened, how it happened, and why. I’ll always be grateful to my oldest daughter for her love and for the selflessness with which she gave herself to me. Yes, it was a clear case of incest, but it was also a second chance at life for me, a gift from the child who was herself a gift from my darling Marianne.

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