As we neared Lake Tahoe Marie pretended to wake up. She was her usual bright and perky self, and she didnât mention the little interruption in our drive at all. We stopped for dinner at a little restaurant near the hotel, and then went over and checked in. We had a luxurious suite which had a nice sitting room and a smaller bedroom off to the side where Marie could sleep. We were all a little tired from the drive (well, and other things, too), so we just went straight to bed.
Marie and I cheered Kevin on from the gallery the next day. Of course, my mind was more on what to do about my daughterâs newfound knowledge. I was reminded of what it was like when Iâd seen Dad and Rita all those years ago. I was sharing a secret, but only I knew about it. Marie had seen her parents making love and enjoyed it, so she was sharing a secret too.
She knew that I knew she had watched us, but she didnât bring it up. Obviously we were going to keep it between ourselves. What Marie didnât know was that I had recognized the look in her eye when sheâd seen us - pure, unadulterated teenage lust. There was no doubt in my mind that my daughter was entertaining thoughts of sleeping with her father.
She had my sympathy because I knew just how hard all of this was hitting her. The longing, the unfulfilled lust, the desire to make love to daddy were all potent inducements which some teenage girls couldnât resist. I knew this for a fact.
So the big question was, did I want to allow this? Should I encourage it? I mean, sleeping with my father hadnât ruined me any, at least, not that I could tell. I enjoyed sex a little more than most of my friends, but I was still able to form a long-lasting loving relationship with a man. So whatâs the harm?
After the 11th hole, which Kevin birdied, I glanced over at Marie as we were clapping. She was enthusiastically cheering, and to most of the fans she was just a proud daughter. But I knew her better than that. I could see it in the back of her eye and the corners of her smile â Marieâs feelings as a daughter were tinged with loverâs lust. Her eyes were soft and dreamy whenever Kevin was in sight, and she was even walking a little funny, as if she was kind of sore. I could guess what sheâd been doing in her bed last night.
I tried to imagine if I would feel jealous. Would Kevin still love me if he was sleeping with Marie? I knew from my own experience that you could still love your spouse while you were sleeping with your daughter. In spite of our long-lived love affair, Dad still loved Rita more than anything. Somehow the two women in his life complemented each other, feeding Dadâs needs. But heâd never even hinted that he wanted me instead of Rita. I decided that if Marie and I each contributed in different ways to Kevinâs happiness, then there wouldnât be anything for me to be jealous about.
I concluded that my real concern wasnât whether or not Marie was sleeping with Kevin. It was whether or not I knew she was sleeping with Kevin. Would it be better for Marie if her first lover was some young kid whom I didnât know, or her father? After much soul searching while we wandered the links I finally arrived at a decision.
I would give them the opportunity to be alone and have sex and see if she took it. Preferably soon, while the visions of her daddyâs manhood were still fresh in her mind and her slit was crying out for filling. If she passed up a chance to take her daddy tonight, then the feelings inside of her probably werenât so strong that she wouldnât pass them up for the rest of her life. If she couldnât resist, then at least I would know, and my daughterâs first lover would be the man I loved.
Kevin did extremely well in the first round, placing in the top five. Marie and I met him back at the hotel. Kevin didnât like to spend too much time on the course in the middle of a tournament, because he found all of the fans distracting. Heâd make up for it when it was all over, spending hours shaking hands and giving autographs.
So we sat at a table, relaxing with our drinks. Well, Marie had a pop. Occasionally fans who knew where the golfers stayed would come up to congratulate him, but there werenât as many as there would have been at the golf course. I noticed that most of the men were more interested in the shy teenager by Kevinâs side. Of course he couldnât see it, and even she didnât know it. But she was definitely sending out feminine âtake me nowâ signals.
Only Marie and I knew whom the signals were actually for.
After lunch we went back to our rooms. Kevin wanted to lay down for a little bit, and Marie was going to watch TV. The sign Iâd seen advertising a meeting in the Carnation Room suddenly popped into my head, and my half-hearted plan began to gel. As we entered our suite I decided that now was my opportunity to leave my husband and daughter together to see if anything happened.
âI think Iâm going to go to the Golferâs Wives meeting today,â I said. This was a loose coalition of professional golf wives who lent our names to worthy causes. After every major tournament weâd organize a benefit for a local charity. Usually our meetings were held by phone and email, but every once in a while there was an actual meeting. There was one scheduled for this afternoon to discuss our agenda for next year.
âI thought you guys were all set for this year,â Kevin said. âYou sure you donât want to stay with me?â
âWell, I thought you were going to take a nap. Besides, itâll be fun to talk with them. Julia Morrisonâs going to be there, and I havenât seen her in ages.â
Kevin brushed his lips against mine, and I could feel my body start to warm.
âI was hoping youâd stay here,â he whispered as he nuzzled my neck. For the millionth time I wondered how he did that. I felt like a high school girl on her first date, not like an experienced wife in her husbandâs arms.
âOh no you donât,â I said, pushing him away. âIf we get started with that then Iâll never get to the meeting. Besides, you need your nap. You have another round to play tomorrow.â
Kevin took my hand and pulled me towards our bedroom. âOk, but at least lay down with me until you have to go.â