Breakfast Babies Pt 01

Richard Grommet drank a sad, sad cup of coffee. The thing was, breakfast was wonderful, truly Mary Ann had outdone herself on the eggs. She'd been adding in a dab of Creme Fraiche here lately. Thanks Gordon Ramsey! What a wonderful man, and an even dearer wife.

And the coffee itself tasted delightful. Mary Ann had picked up these beans from the roasters over on Margrove, the ones in that blue trimmed shop right after the Publix but before the light. Add in a little almond milk, little honey, and

oh heaven!

Even Marmaduke had a rather humorous panel.

Silly dog, you can't fit in the bathtub!

All that's not even mentioning the wonderful company. Praise Mary Ann's Jesus! Richard had a truly, truly wonderful family. He reached over and tickled his wife's bum.

"Richard!" She hissed and made a very pointed look at their daughter who was seated on the far end of the table.

Richard supposed there was that part. Twenty-three years of marriage and they

still

had sex with the lights off, penis through the pajama bottoms. Mary Ann couldn't handle the

moisture,

that rubby slidey feeling of bare skin on skin--perhaps the only point against marrying a Mormon girl. But like he said, her eggs were divine.

But other than that,

this was a perfect breakfast. Why, Richard often thought they all might actually live inside of a Norman Rockwell painting. There would be no way to truly know! That was his life.

Richard took another sip of his sad, sad coffee.

Tweety birds chirped out on the feeder. His wife idly hummed the "Bushel and a Peck" song, the Doris Day version. Richard fluffed the Sunday paper. The percolator

perced

on the stove. It all came together in just an idyllic morning tune.

Scrape. Scrape. Tink.

Mechanical scritches cut across the tune.

Scrape. Scrape. Tink.

Richard's darling daughter, sweet Abby Gene, scraped her eggs back and forth on her plate with her fork. Mary Ann would never scold the girl for that rudeness--oh, no, no, no. Any other day, Richard might, but he knew how the poor girl felt.

Blessed sunrays shone off sweet Abby Gene's golden hair. Lord above, a halo framed her in! Were Richard more inclined toward the big man upstairs, he might think the good Lord sent him an angel by mistake. He'd tell any man who cared to hear it, corniness be damned!

But all this was coming to an end, his whole world gone just like that. Next week, sweet Abby--lithe, innocent, and cute as a button--was heading off for Brigham Young University, for

four years!

She could come back home after her studies though. He was sure of it. He'd talk her into it. She could work out of her bedroom. He'd even renovate the whole upstairs to give her an office if she wanted it. He and Mary Ann could sleep on the couch downstairs if they had to, and then his darling girl could still live here, even work from home. They'd have breakfast just like this every morning and--

"Mom, Dad." Sweet innocent Abby Gene set her fork down. "I'm pregnant."

Richard took a sip of his coffee. "I suppose that'll be fine, Cupcake."

He glanced over at his wife.

Hmm?

That poor woman was gaping like a fish. Oh my! Her eyes were beginning to bug out of her head. Her color drained.

His wife, she was broken!

"Dear, dear." Richard shook her.

"Did you mean that, Daddy?" His daughter asked. "That it'll be fine?"

"Not now, Cupcake. Your mother's broken."

"Daddy, I think she's just, well, a little stunned, that's all."

Richard tried tapping on his wife's cheek. Nope, nothing.

"Did you hear me, Daddy?"

"Cupcake." Richard snapped his fingers. "Get me the telephone."

"Mom's fine, though?"

"Abby Gene, get me the telephone right now, young lady!"

His daughter wavered in her chair. She tensed and blurted out, "Daddy, I said that I am pregnant!"

"Abagail Gene, I told you to get me the--Oh." Her words sunk in. "You are pregnant, as in, you are with child."

She sniffled. "I'm sorry."

"You're pregnant, but--" Richard leapt to his feet. His chair tumbled backwards and slapped on the linoleum. He pointed his finger right at his baby girl. "---you can't be pregnant. You were homeschooled!"

His wife was still gaping like a fish, shock still. "Goddammit, Mary Ann, say something!"

Richard was shaking mad. He heard tiny hics and sobs on the other end of the table. Dear sweet Abby Gene had her face buried in her hands. Her shoulders shook. "I'm sorry, Daddy. I'm so sorry."

His heart snapped in two. Richard ran over and knelt beside his baby girl. He put his hand on her back and rubbed between her shoulder blades. "Cupcake, I'm sorr--I mean, it'll be--" Richard paused to find the right words. "I meant what I said, Cupcake. It'll be fine. We'll, we'll turn my study into a nursery. I'll, I'll sell my portfolio. I'll be the nanny."

"...please don't do all that. It's my fault. I'll take care of it."

"Child support! We'll get child support. Who's the father? It's okay, sweetheart. You can tell me. I will not kill him. I promise. I won't string the boy up or blow out his heart with my Mosen or anything like that. You can tell me."

"...Tim. Timothy Rapple."

"When did, when did it happen, Sweetie? You can tell me."

"Last week."

Richard took his hand off his daughter's back. "What." A statement, not a question.

"I was supposed to start my, you know--" Abby Gene looked down between her legs then leaned in and whispered in her father's ear. "---my period. It was supposed to start today."

Now Richard was a different kind of stunned. "Your period was supposed to start today, but it didn't because you got pregnant last week?" He truly did not want to ask, but now he really needed to know. "How did it...what did

that boy

do to you."

His daughter caught her voice on a sob. It hitched, and she threw her arms around her father. "He kissed me, Daddy! He did it right on my lips. Like with his tongue and everything and..." She trailed off, just absolutely gutted.

Richard patted her on the back. Thank her Lord Jesus, but his wife had stopped gaping. Her lip twisted, and her head cocked off at an odd angle.

Richard rubbed his eyes as his baby girl sobbed into his shoulder. It seemed that there was a chance their home curriculum wasn't up to snuff.

He sent his wife a nasty glare.

That was your job!

She wagged her finger.

No, no, no! You are the girl's father. I taught her math.

Richard threw up his hands.

Then who in the seven Hells taught our daughter about sex?

Oh. Right. No one did.

Mary Ann got up from the table. She waved her arm around at whatever

this

was.

It's your mess. Fix it!

Sometimes being married to the same woman for twenty-three years was a blessing and a curse. His wife was already out the front door before his daughter had even quit crying, surely heading off to cluck about this with her sisters. He took a deep sigh. No, Mary Ann would have been useless in this regard anyway. Richard had to teach her about sex, too. What really rankled was, he had to teach his wife

on their wedding night.

No, she would be useless.

He cradled his sweet daughter's cheeks, kissed her on the forehead, and wiped away her tears with his thumbs. In the back of his mind, he wondered if his daughter thought that

those

kisses would get her pregnant, too. Just what was she thinking each time he kissed her goodnight?

"This is my fault, Cupcake."

"You didn't get me pregnant!" His daughter wailed.

"Abagail Gene, listen to me. You are not pregnant."

"But that boy, he--"

"Put his tongue in your mouth. Yes, I know." Richard wondered if rock salt would still be lethal coming out of a Mosen. Probably.

"Abagail, you are beautiful, you are sweet, and you are kind, but you, poor girl, have no idea where babies come from. Come on, sit."

Richard picked his daughter up by the armpits and sat her on the edge of the table. He sat down on her chair right in front of her. She might've been a tad heavy for this now that she was older--the table came from Ikea--but this felt so nostalgic sitting with her like this.

He supposed out of habit, she kicked her legs back and forth. Her cheeks were still flushed from the crying, but something about that really made her freckles

pop.

Truly, just the most adorable girl in the whole wide world, an innocent angel.

Now, it was his duty to break that innocence with a

very

uncomfortable talk. He grabbed her ankles and clacked her heels together. That earned him a smile between her sniffles.

"Abagail, do you know what a...and where it...then what happens when." Richard clacked the girls heels together while he found the words. "Abagail, I need to...I need to teach you about sex."

"Dad!"

"Cupcake, you spent the last ten minutes crying because you thought a boy got you pregnant with a kiss."

She gave him a look like

Yeah? And?

"Abagail, you don't get pregnant from a kiss." He held up a finger to block her next remark. "And, no, babies aren't a gift from your Mother's good Lord, either." Richard mustered up all his courage. "A baby happens when a man ejaculates inside of a woman's vagina."

There. He said it.

And Abby Gene was totally blank. "Huh. Neat?"

"You know what a penis looks like, right? They're just like what was in your biology books."

"Mom always scratched those out."

Right then, Richard was

oh-so

grateful that his wife was not in the house. What a moron. No, stop. He knew he was just as much to blame.

"You know what a vagina is, correct?"

"Yeah, it's--"

Richard held up his finger. "No, it's not that hole you pee out of."

That closed her mouth.

"It's that hole just below it. What a man does, he lays you down on the bed and climbs on top of your body, typically when you are naked."

"Naked?"

"Yes."

"Oh wow."

"You'll feel him press around your privates with his penis. When he feels his penis press against your middle hole, the one just in between your pee hole and your bum, he sticks his penis all the way inside of you. He'll rub it in and out and--"

Sniff, sniff.

It smelled kind of musky in here all of a sudden. Whatever, he was on a roll. "---then his testicles will clench up, and he'll shoot his sperm right out of the tip of his penis and directly into your womb."

"...really?" Abby Gene eased back on the table. She bit her bottom lip and stared off into space. Her delicate complexion turned a soft red. "Does it...does it feel good?"

Richard figured she had some baseline to be asking that question. "Do you, um, masturbate, dear?"

She shook her head furiously. "Of course not!"

Richard put his hand on her thigh and rubbed his thumb there. "I am not your mother. You won't get in trouble." He held up his pinkie. "I promise."

His daughter gave him a coy half smile and wrapped her pinky around his. When she shook it to accept the promise, it also wafted more of that musk his way. Richard sniffed. Oh no. He knew that smell. Oh dear. His eyes flicked down to his daughter's sweat pants tucked right up between her thighs. Oh wow. That's a lot. Even through all those layers, he saw a dark spot right between her legs. Oh my, she was damp

down there.

"Sometimes when I lay in bed I--um, uh, you promised right?"

Richard could only nod.

"Just like, this last year I kinda started. Sometimes I take my pants off and sit down on Mr. Binkles' horn and then rub my hips back and forth, back and forth...back and forth." Her voice trailed off at the end, and once again, she was staring into space. He saw her, almost imperceptibly rocking her hips as she spoke those last words.

Oh sweet Mary Ann's Jesus, his daughter was humping the unicorn! '

We got you that when you were twelve!

' He wanted to say but bit back those words.

She swallowed, still staring off. "Once, I took the horn, and I poked it inside me." She choked up. "It hurt. And there was blood, and I was so scared."

Oh no. The stuffed animal took her virginity.

Hold on. That wasn't what was important here. "Why didn't you say anything?"

His baby girl rubbed her eye. "I didn't want to get into trouble."

Richard's heart cracked for the second time today. All this time, he thought he was a model father with the idyllic family. What a load of...

He grabbed his daughter's slender hand and kissed it. He rubbed the kiss in with his thumb. "I'm so sorry, love. I should've--"

"Daddy?"

"Yes, anything."

Abby Gene chewed on her lip and looked down and off to the side. "Can you call me that again?"

"Which part?"

"The, you know..." Her voice got really small, practically a whisper. "...

love."

"Yes, yes! Of course, Love!"

She reveled in that for a moment, sitting and wiggling on the table in front of him. It was absolutely adorable! "About that promise, I--" his daughter stuck out her lithe belly and spread her legs open just a touch. "---after that got better, you know,

down there,

I never did the horn again, but sometimes I'd lay on my back. I stick my legs straaaight up in the air. Then I'd get, like, you know, really slippery down there." She wiggled her little bum. "I'd take my finger." She rubbed her thumb around the tip of her middle finger. "And I'd tickle the bump. That's, um, that's why I was wondering if it felt good, you know, with a penis instead of a--Oh my God!" She buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't be saying this stuff. I'm so sorry, Dad."

On the one hand, her sweat pants were pretty much soaked between her thighs. On the other, Richard's baby girl was distraught.

"Hey, come here, Love." He scooped her up under her arms and sat her down right on his knee, face to face. Richard put his hands on her shoulders. "Listen. There is nothing in this world you can say or do that would make me stop loving you. You could kick a kitten. I wouldn't care. You could slap your grandma. That would be fine. You could even take my Mosen and shoot that Timmy-kid in the ass with a load of rock salt. Even if it blows off his little pecker on the other side, I would not care."

His baby girl giggled. "I kind of like telling you about this stuff. Is it alright if I--?"

Richard winced. He gritted his teeth. "Yes, go on, Love."

Abby Gene's eyes flashed, devilish. But her smile, those dimples and bright white teeth were from heaven. "Once I took my finger--" She drew little circles on Richard's thigh with her middle finger. "---And I poked it into the bottom hole," she continued, "you know, the one that's exit only."

Her soft bum started idly rocking on his knees. She was so flushed and lost to her words, Richard doubted that his daughter even knew that she was doing it. "I was scared because I thought it might hurt like the other hole, but it just burned, and then I kind of liked it." She quit tracing circles and started scratching her nail on the inside of Richard's thigh. "Hey Dad?"

"Hmm?"

"Your, um, pants." She pointed.

Richard frowned and looked down at his lap. Oh fucking hell! It tented. He honest to God didn't even notice, he was so captivated watching his daughter talk.

"I am so sorry, Abagail."

"Is it always like that?"

"No, it's only like that when--" Richard caught himself mid sentence.

"When what?"

Richard shook his head. "It's nothing."

"I just told you about sticking my finger up my butt! And you can't even explain..." She looked up at him with those ruthless Bambi eyes. "Were you just, like, laughing at me on the inside when I was saying that stuff? Because I think I'd rather just get in trouble."

Oh for Pete's sake! "A man's penis is normally soft. When he gets aroused, it grows and hardens so he'll be capable of inserting it into her vagina."

Her eyes got really big and stared at the tent in Richard's lap. "Does that mean...? No." She shook her head and held up her pinkie. "We promised." His daughter's eyes were transfixed, though. She scooted forward on his lap just a smidgen. "Can I--?"

Before he could even register what she was asking, let alone what she was doing, she reached out and poked it. She poked it with the finger that she put up her bum. Richard flexed and, without even thinking, threw his head back and gasped.

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

Her nails scratched the denim tent.

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

Her subtle touch prickled the head and tightened his balls. Abigail's star spangled nails that she painted with her mother the other night, sliding up and down his privates. Richard was breathing fast and heavy, both he and his daughter were entirely transfixed on the tent in his pants.

Her thumb grazed up and down the backside of his shaft. He nearly told her to hook her forefinger around the front side, but that was the thought that broke the moment for him. He realized what they were doing.

"Abby, Love, you shouldn't."

Her head bopped forward, and she pressed her forehead against his chest. Richard nuzzled his nose into her soft golden hair. Strawberry shampoo.

"I want to see it, but...you don't have to look."

Richard didn't think he could see himself right now even if he wanted to. Her head was right in his way. Even on the sides, her long hair draped down and encompassed his privates in a golden curtain.

He felt a pressure at the top of his tent. There was a slight vibration. He knew that was his zipper, but his daughter was opening his crotch so slowly that it didn't make hardly a sound. She lowered his zipper one tick at a time.

In fact, the loudest noise in the room was Abby Gene's erratic pants. He felt them flutter his shirt with every breath. He felt her hand shake, too. Lord, the poor girl was so nervous.

There, there.

Richard scratched her back, just like he used to do when they were watching Blues Clues or later, Spongebob, and then after that, Gilmore Girls. He'd been in her life every step of the way. And now, he was here for this, this final life moment before she left for Uni.

Wow. Now

Richard

was the one sniffling. He kissed the top of his daughter's head. "I love you, Abagail."

He felt her pause. Then, his baby girl simply stated, "I know," and Richard's naked cock sprang free.

His daughter didn't grab it. Truth be told, by the way she began touching it, Richard was pretty sure she didn't know what the hell to do with it. He felt a soft horizontal pressure distort his thick and swollen tube on the underside. His baby girl really liked running her finger up and down his urethra. The problem was, that underside part was his biggest trigger. He had to shift his hips and really clench.

"Abby, Love, that's gonna do it for me. Touch, touch something else."

He felt a scratch zig up the topside. Lordie, Lordie, that was certainly her star spangled nails.

"Does that hurt?' She asked.

"No, Love, it feels--

Yip!

" He bucked his hips. She'd scratched the head! He tried to reach inside the golden curtain to maybe direct her, but--

Smack, smack!

---she slapped his hands away!

"Don't touch. This is my thing." In a much quieter voice, she added, "I wouldn't hurt you."

He let his daughter touch him. There were definitely moments where he squirmed at her inexperienced pokes and prods, but she paid such close attention to his body language that, true to her word, never once did he feel a morsel of pain. Eventually, his daughter wrapped her forefinger and thumb around his shaft. She stroked him up and down,

sweet

dry friction. He cursed his wife's family for talking him into a circumcision, if only...

She stroked him faster and harder, pushing him clear to the limits. He grabbed her around the ribs and squeezed and released her lithe body, essentially driving her.

"Abby, Abby, Abby, something's going to--" Too late.

His balls clenched. She stroked him to the peak, swirled her thumb over the head--something she'd just learned to do--, and drew her fingers to the base. He

exploded

like a rocket. Richard swore his sperm must have shot out at escape velocity, as much pressure as he felt.

Spurt, spurt, spurt.

That deep internal ache claimed his balls, the one he'd get when he was utterly

draining

every ounce out of them.