The next morning Marie woke up with a rare hangover and only a hazy memory of the night before. "I remember having a good time, but I also remember something really naughty going on. What happened?"
"I'm not sure you want to know," I said.
When I came out of the shower a few minutes later, I heard Marie talking to Krissy while she fixed a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs for us.
". . . and I don't want you to get any silly ideas in your head, sweetie. Don't get me wrong -- I love having sex with your stepfather. But there's nothing magical about his penis -- or about any man's penis. Sure, your stepfather has a lot of stamina, but the real thing is this: I love him."
"I've seen you cum when you suck his cock. That's not normal, Mom."
Marie cleared her throat, obviously embarrassed. "Well, it's . . . ."
". . . Complicated. Yeah, I get it."
"Actually, it's not complicated at all. It's love. In the evenings, your stepfather and I have this . . . ."
". . . Roleplay. Yeah, I've seen it. You REALLY get into your roleplay, Mom."
Marie laughed. "I do get lost in it. But the reason I get lost in it is because I CAN get lost in it. I trust and love your stepfather as much as I trust and love you. When I close my eyes while I . . . uh . . . kiss him, I feel free to lose myself with him."
"Mom, I love him, too."
"Of course you do, sweetie. He's been a very good stepfather to you."
"Mom, I think I love him more like a . . . Daddy."
Marie turned and stared at her daughter.
Krissy went on: "Mom, I know that you and I haven't talked that much about my dating since you gave me the 'birds-and-bees/use-a-condom' speech a couple of years ago. But I really have taken to heart what you said about making sure that sex is meaningful. I haven't been nearly as . . . active, I guess you would say . . . as you and Danny probably think I've been." She paused and looked down at her plate, moving the food around nervously with her fork before looking back up at her mother and speaking again: "Do you think it would be alright if Danny were my first one?"
At that moment, there was a bang and crash outside on the street. It was the sanitation guys slinging the garbage cans into their truck. At the sound, Marie reflexively looked toward the front of the house and saw me standing at the end of the hallway. I imagine that the expression on my face was probably as dumbfounded as what I saw on hers. My cockteasing stepdaughter -- a virgin? A virgin who wants me to pop her cherry?
Marie shook her head slightly trying to reorder her thoughts. "Sweetie," she said. "You've raised a lot of . . . issues. But you need to leave for school in a few minutes. Let's talk about this some more later."
That night, the three of us watched a movie together. It was one of those weepy romantic dramas full of longing and separations and unrequited stuff ending in requited stuff. Marie was a sucker for that kind of thing, and I had to admit that I rather liked a nice romantic tearjerker myself once in a while.
At first, Krissy sat in the recliner several feet away from us. Marie curled up in my arms with her legs tucked under her.
After a few minutes, though, Krissy got up. "Don't pause the movie, I'm just fixing some popcorn. Want any?"