*Author's Note: This is a supplementary story to "Impregnation". It should stand alone as a good erotic tale, but it may be worthwhile to read them in order. Please do not repost this story without the author's express consent or permission.
Wow. I'm four months into it now and I am starting to really show. I am going home to tell my dad and sisters today. Not the fact that it is my Dad's baby, mind you, but that I'm pregnant. I'm sure this will send them all for a loop. Tamara (my oldest sister) has always been the mature one and will ask me all sorts of questions about whether or not I'm prepared for the significance of what I'm doing. Amanda, my younger sister, is the sweetheart all-American girl. She'll just be happy for me and want to know all the gushy emotional details. And my Dad, in all his maturity, will probably drink.
It is still definitely my big secret that I managed to get pregnant by him on Valentine's Day when he was drunk, but we'll save that piece of information for later (or never, which is probably more likely).
I'm a bit apprehensive about this. I have always been a bit of a rebel in the family and never really followed the expected route. And being the first one to have a baby without another parent figure in the picture will probably create all sorts of issues. Especially with Tamara. She just got married a year and a half ago and now thinks that she is the head hen. I'm not so convinced that her life is as together as she says it is, but so long as she is managing it alright, its not really any of my business.
I arrived at the house a bit past one in the afternoon and discovered that everyone had gotten the day kicked off without me. They were all back in the pool, swimming, relaxing, and having a generally good time. I watched them for a bit from the kitchen window until I decided that it was inevitable that I go out and join them.
So I, being the little minx that I am, decided to do the grand unveiling in typical Athena style. I put on a bathing suit, and with a decided swagger to my baby bump, I strode through the sliding glass door and onto the deck.
Dad was the first to spot me and he started the wave of greetings.
"Hey, how ya been? It's good to see you," he yelled from the shallow end, a beer in his hand.
Amanda resurfaced and yelled up her greetings. "Hey sis! Missed ya!"
Tamara just turned and gave me a half-hearted wave from the lawn chair she was sprawled across. I knew she saw the unique weight addition when her head cocked around right quick.
"You've put on some weight Thena," she said like it was the most obvious fact in the world.
"And you're as blunt as ever," I retorted with a childish grin. I could see Amanda eyeing my tummy now suspiciously and Tamara's gaze had not wavered from beneath her sun glasses. Busted! Well, here goes nothing, I thought to myself.
"I'm not just fat Tamara. I happen to be pregnant." I waited for the reactions to the bombshell. A stream of random statements, questions, and obscenities came at me from everywhere.
"You're what?!" (Tamara)
"When!?" (Amanda)
"How!?" (Dad)
"Whose the father?" (Tamara)
"Boy or girl?" (Amanda)
"Shit!" (Dad)
And finally a unified congratulations was put together by the three wonderful members of my close knit family. Everyone had abandoned their previous positions and were hastily approaching me. I felt like a deer being circled by wolves. Or lions, maybe.
Then the petting of my stomach began. Everyone always wants to pet a pregnant woman's stomach like it's the most natural thing in the world. It's not! If you ever get the urge to pet someone's stomach, don't! I learned that lesson right then and there. Geez, it's creepy.
I started slapping hands away as I gave my long winded practice explanation as to when, who, where, what, how, etc.
"Before Gina and I had broken up, we had decided to have a kid. We wanted to do it naturally so we had a mutual gay friend of ours do it. Course, Gina broke up with me, and forgot to tell my eggs. Now they're nice and fertilized and I am four months along. The baby is due in early to mid-November. I'm not sure what it is, and I don't want to find out till the end of my second trimester. There. Everyone happy? Good. Go back to swimming, and for god's sake stop petting me!"
I had managed to get that whole little spiel out in one breath. I was a bit worried that if I paused, I would forget my little story. And I really meant the part about not petting me. Seriously, people, its weird.
And on that note I cannon-balled into the pool. I got water up my nose when I laughed because I thought it was funny that I was literally and metaphorically making a splash. Amanda joined me, and a disconcerted Tamara returned to her lawn chair. Dad went inside to get another drink (it ended up being a whole other case of beer).
Amanda and I swam and giggled and played and messed around like we were still in high school. The two of us had always gotten along really well, partially because we were closer in age, and partially because Tamara was a bitch back then. She was our mommy after our real mother died. And no one wants to listen to someone they feel they are equal with bossing them around. But in our old and wizened years we realized that she had done a pretty good job of watching out for us and protecting us from foolish stuff. For that we had to appreciate her.
By the time we made it out of the pool, Dad had finished off a case of beer and Tamara had managed to turn a bright red color from overexposure to the sun. Amanda and I giggled to each other as her glowing backside swished away from us. Tamara gave us a dirty look over her shoulder.
She was always the perfect evil sister, even if she wasn't evil and simply had to grow up faster then anyone else. But she was skinnier then Amanda and I, had darker hair, and sharper features. Tamara was attractive, very attractive, but wasn't as sexy as Amanda or I. What do I mean exactly by that? Well, if you saw Tamara and Amanda standing in a club or in a bar or someplace, you would go and talk to or listen to Amanda. She seems fun, acts fun, looks fun. Tamara just looks more reserved, a little more domineering. She tended to scare guys. And her new husband was a pussy to fit the bill. Jim would never argue with his wife. Just nod his head and bow out of the fight before it started. I had to stifle a giggle as I thought of a stormy Tamara marching him off to bed.
I think my little surprise was probably the switch that threw the whole get together into a different gear.
Dad was drinking more by now and his face had a familiar ruddy glow to it. He was working himself down the path of inebriation once more. And Tamara was drinking too, which was a rarity. Normally she was the designated driver, sitter, talker, eater, and the designated prude. But I think the fact that rebel Athena got pregnant before her kind of put her in a sour mood that she wanted to drink away. Amanda sipped headily on a beer, her drinks very effeminate and genteel. She managed to make a Bud can look natural for a pretty blonde to carry.
But me, good ole straight-laced Athena, staid dry. Of course it was just for the fact I was pregnant otherwise I would have been under the table before any of them.
We sat around for a bit drinking and chatting, but mostly just drinking. There was one more trip out to the pool and numerous trips to the bathroom before the rest of my party managed to find itself inebriated before dinner. Tamara and Dad retired to their respective rooms on the second floor and I helped Amanda to our old room down the hallway from theirs. I gently laid my sister on the bed and headed for the shower. Amanda was a bit giggly and I wanted her to calm down a bit before I returned to the room.
I have always loved showers as a way of relaxing and refreshing oneself. When everything just seems to be a bit frantic or haywire, you can always count on a good shower and lather to get yourself right back into proper spirits. By the time I stepped from the steaming enclosure, I was feeling mighty find. I wrapped a towel around my waist and was heading down the hall when I heard a loud giggle coming from my Dad's room.
Thinking I might be missing on some fun I wheeled it around and was about to go in. But I froze in my tracks with the door cracked open when I realized what I was seeing.
Tamara and Dad were on the bed, her leg thrown casually over his and her head propped on one arm while her other rested on bare chest. Dad had an obvious erection in his swimming trunks and a beer in one hand while the other cradled his own head.
"He's such a wimp. I can't believe I married him. I don't know what I was thinking. And now Athena's pregnant and my dickless wonder of a husband can't get it up without a good hours work over. And even then he lasts all of two minutes."
My drunk father's reply sounded like some very sympathetic gibberish.
"Daddy, where did I go wrong? Why couldn't I get pregnant before Athena. Just once I'd like to get something she didn't have."
Another garbled reply from my drunk father, but apparently Tamara understood it. I was more curious then ever at the compromising permission of the two and was interested in seeing what I could glean from them. Normally Tamara never let her guard down long enough to reveal any weakness, but now she was talking her way into a hole.
"Yeah, that's true. I wish he was more like you. Remember the ride home from Colorado?" I was curious to know what this meant. We always went on trips to Colorado every summer and I wasn't particularly aware of any applicable relevance.
My father's grunted response egged her on.
"Remember our first time?" Warning bells! First time!? Tamara and Dad!?!? No fucking way! I couldn't believe it. She must mean something else.
But no! A hand grab of Dad's tent told me that first time meant FIRST TIME. Impossible! Out of breath and stunned to silence I just watched.
Tamara continued her squeezing of that familiar piece of meat while she kept adding details to the Colorado trip.
"Remember Thena and Manda were sleeping in the back seat in the old Suburban. You told me how pretty I was. You told me I looked like Mom. Then you said that you were glad I was eighteen. And I asked you why." Tamara was starting to stroke the length of manhood pressing into the synthetic trunk material. Its length was well outlined by the touch of her hand and the strain it produced in the fabric.
"You told me because you were lonely. I told you that I was there for you. You said that you had other needs that hadn't been taken care of in a while. I asked you what they were. And you told me about the bird's and the bees for a second time in my life. Course, you had your hand on my breast when you told me that time."
