Richard was
in love!
Like Jack and Diane, except, it was him and his baby girl, sweet Abby Gene, his precious daughter.
Golly!
Richard, smiling like a fool. He'd been sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at the carpet. Semi-consciously his finger petted up and down the thick vein of his urethra, right through his pants, just like sweet Abby Gene had done to him this morning.
His wife walked in. "Richard, I--" She frowned at what she'd caught him doing, yet she shook her head and continued on. "---I talked it over with Nancy and Margeret, and we think,
I think,
I owe you an apology. I was flustered, and I shouldn't have left." Mary Ann nodded her head once. "There."
But Richard,
oh,
his full heart was aflutter. Gay as a feather, he leapt off the bed and scooped his wife up in his arms.
"Richard!"
He kissed her once, twice, three times! She turned her head away on the fourth.
"I love your body so much, dear!" He dropped his wife on the bed and nibbled on her chin.
His hands slid down her ribs. Mary Ann had a far more supple build than his sweet Abby Gene, such voluptuous edges and curves! He nibbled down to her cleavage. She clasped her hands on his shoulders. Richard licked the slit between those pillows. Mary Ann tightened her grip and--shoved him away!
"Richard Grommet, just what in the world, what
are
you doing?" Mary Ann was flustered and panting, but even still, she wiped his spit off her chest.
Ah, right.
There was that.
Richard loved his wife, truly he did! But, and this was a big
but,
sometimes he had second thoughts about marrying a Mormon girl. "I'm sorry, honey." He tried to be empathetic. "Can I sit?"
She waved at the spot next to her, like
it's a free country.
Richard sat and slid his hand down his face. He pinched his chin. "Sometimes I want some--what?"
"Not this again." Mary Ann rolled her eyes.
"Well, Mary Ann, I don't think it's wrong for a man to want to have sex with his wife. Some might even call that a good thing."
"Richard, I told you. I don't want any more children."
"We can just do it because it feels..." He shook his head. This was a pointless topic. He knew that. He was just venting, and that wasn't fair to Mary Ann. She was who she was, and he'd married her. Richard put his hand on hers and kissed the backside. He rubbed the kiss in with his thumb.
Back perhaps twenty years ago, these silent moments were awkward. Twenty-
three
years of marriage later, though, and these moments were just life with his partner, just how things were.
She patted his hand. "I have Carla Rae's pot luck tomorrow morning." She got up and changed into her nightgown.
She'd essentially told him that tonight would be an early bedtime. Those church ladies all absolutely adored waking up at the buttcrack of dawn to bake their fruit loafs or banana pies or what-have-you. Always some pot luck, always some fundraiser.
"Okay." He watched his wife climb into bed, fully clothed. Some days, he just wanted to climb up and smother her tight with his love, but that wasn't her way. He could only watch; he could only lament. "I think I'll catch the news. Goodnight, Love."
"Goodnight, Richard." She pulled her covers over her shoulder and turned her back.
He flicked off the lights and closed the door. Quiet, quiet, don't disturb the wife. Outside, the clock ticked in the hall. The window rattled from a gust of wind. Soft rain drops pattered against the glass. He exhaled a light sigh and turned around.
"Hi Daddy!"
Jesus Fuck! His limbs shook and he staggered back into the door with a loud
Thump!
"Richaaard?" His wife called from the other side.
"Sorry, honey, I...tripped."
His dear sweet Abby Gene stood in front of him. She'd just appeared as a specter. A very, um, er,
comfortably
dressed specter. Tiny cotton shorts absolutely cradled that lithe girl's hips. My goodness, from what dark recess did she procure them from? Wait a minute. Richard squinted. Those short were from her little league tryouts
seven years ago!
No wonder they didn't fit.
Her shirt, fortunately, was normal, even sort of baggy.
Ah, that devilish gleam and proud smile. My word! That girl knew exactly what she was doing, but she lacked the subtlety to pull it off. Richard rubbed the top of her head. Her long golden hair shook, and she scrunched her face and leaned into his touch. Cute!
"Daddy." She looked left and right, then leaned over to peer around behind Richard, he supposed to check that the bedroom door truly was shut. She curled her finger to draw him in close then whispered right in his ear. "Earlier today--" Her breaths were short and hot. "---I stuck the unicorn horn
all the way
up my bum."
Richard's eyes flashed. First thing he did, he checked that his wife's door was still shut himself. Then he leaned over and whispered, "The, the toy? You did that?"
"Uh huh." She chewed on her lip and tilted her head.
Those eyes! He saw the devil in his angel. Dear girl, she knew
exactly
what she was doing.
However, her neigh-sultry look lasted right up until she tried to take a step forward, just a little closer to her daddy. Poor girl stubbed her toe on the floor and flubbed it completely. Richard saw her close her eyes and silently mouth
'Crap!'
Absolutely adorable! But he wouldn't tell her that. Richard tipped up her chin. Her dear eyes quavered against the ceiling light. "You are a beautiful young woman, Abagail." He leaned in and pressed his lips against her own soft lips. It took a moment for the kiss to register, but she gave him a big
Mwah!
right back.
Richard slung his arm over and squeezed her shoulder. "Come on. Let's go sit. Wasn't, um, Dean going to break up with Rory because Rory liked, uh, James?"
"Jess."
His daughter corrected. "Dean knew that Rory had feelings for Jess, so Dean broke up with her, and then her and Jess got together, but then Jess went to visit his Dad in California, so he broke up with Jess--but they totally weren't right for each other anyway."
"Right, right. Is that where we left off?"
"Uh huh."
"Okay, let's check the DVR then Cupcake."
Abby Gene glared at her daddy.
"Love, Love, sorry." Richard really had to make a mental note not to use "Cupcake" anymore.
They walked out to the living room, his hand guiding her back. When they got to the couch, she jumped out in front of him and laid down on the couch. Abby Gene patted the little space right behind her. "You go right here, Daddy."
Her shorts really rode up into the crack of her slender bum. Richard saw the perfect contours of each one of her cheeks. Thankfully, her legs were clamped together or else he was positive he'd be seeing a few more contours.
Richard crawled up the cushions and laid down behind her. She wiggled back until the whole backside of her was pressed into Richard tightly. To make it worse, he wore only his pajama bottoms and an old tee, quite thin and pliable fabric all around.
"Dad?"
"Yeah?"
His daughter twisted her head back over her shoulder and hooked an arm around Richard's neck. She pulled him in and opened her mouth. He saw her tongue peek out like a third lip. Their kiss felt loose and wet. Soft weak proddings.
Her saliva leaked down his chin. Her mouth felt clumsy. She turned her head sideways so she could clamp down against him even more--but there was no hungry face sucking or anything like that. Richard and his daughter traded tender smacks back and forth.
Poor girl had no idea what she was doing, but somehow, that gentleness made the sensation of her lips chewing on one another's even greater. She had a rhythm. She'd open her mouth and prod her limp tongue against his teeth then slurp it back in, over and over until their kiss was complete.
Abby Gene grabbed the remote off the coffee table and turned on the show. She also slung Richard's arm around her stomach and interlocked her fingers between his. Richard nuzzled into the back of her hair. He would never tire of strawberry shampoo.
***********************
Richard was hauling the recycling down the hall when he heard a chittery noise. It couldn't be Mary Ann. She was out at that potluck social. Curious, he followed it.
The door to Abby Gene's room had been left cracked open just a hair, but through that, he heard sharp but muted chitters.
Richard peeked through the crack.
He peeked through the crack.
Richard peeked. He peeked. Peeked inside his daughter's room. Peeked inside. It straight up scrambled his brain.
He saw what was in there clear as blessed sunrays: Abby, his sweet Abby Gene, wholly bare assed, buck naked and bouncing on the bed. Her back was to him, but he saw her shoulder blades clench, her back arch, his daughter bite her thumb and chitter at the ceiling.
But most of all, he saw that damn unicorn toy. His daughter had been kneeling down on the bed. She had that plushie toy straddled between her thighs. All Richard could see of the plushie was its rear haunches pointed up in the air between his daughter's knees, and--right between the crack of her bum--its happy rainbow face squished up and down.
That unicorn's golden horn, nearly the rich color of his Abby's flouncing hair, penetrated directly between her butt cheeks. Richard saw it from behind. Oh, did that horn ever glisten. It had been