John gets with the program
====================
Another story in the Dick and Jane occasional collection. The stories are fiction but I hope reflect some universal truth. Best read in sequence. All characters over 18.
====================
Dick and Jane are in cahoots, John follows their lead, Carrie joins in, hijinks and incest ensue. Will breeding follow?
====================
"Breakfast's ready, Jane", John calls up the stairs.
He finishes serving her favorite—pancakes with blueberries, and coffee. She always leaves the coffee; she wants him to serve it so she can think she's all grown up. Next John serves our favorite—steak and eggs. Gotta keep our strength up.
He sits and sips his coffee as we wait. She comes downstairs and drops her bag at the front door.
John pauses mid-sip. For a moment I think he's going to spit it out.
Even I can tell something special is in the air. I can't see her but there's a familiar scent. John never picks up on scents but I do. It's how I stay five steps ahead of him. Yep, she's at peak ovulation cycle. I knew she was getting close yesterday, but this morning I feel her vibrating with unconscious carnality. I can only imagine how she's dressed, which is what John's is reacting to.
"My God, Jane, you've outdone yourself today. You look absolutely stunning."
"Thank you, daddy! Do you like it?"
She pirouettes slowly, going up
en pointe
and stretching her hands high. John and I both love this pose and we pay close attention. We react as one, and John adjusts how he's sitting so I can breath. Sometimes I wish he'd wear a kilt.
"You've done your nails—perfect lipstick—not too much—your hair is braided—a single rope—that lovely sundress and frilly top I got for you this summer. Alluring but innocent. What's the occasion?"
"Oh nothing, I just feel... happy and... I don't know... somehow really... alive... this morning... like I'm ready... for anything."
"Well you look ready for anything and I'm sure you are. As for me, I've got laundry to do then I'll get some work done. The other's left early. An early meeting for Erin and soccer practice for Kevin. They won't be home until tomorrow. So let's eat, then I'll get you to class."
"Oh don't worry, daddy, Carrie is picking me up today. We're going to the mall after last class."
At the mention of Carrie, I feel John's mind jump, then wander off—upstairs to his computer if I'm not mistaken. I start to daydream too, stiffening and thickening in my tight quarters. Carrie's a pretty little thing, and we love when she comes to visit. Maybe she'll stay for dinner.
John adjusts himself so I can breathe again. I get quite cramped when Carrie's on his mind.
There's a honk outside. "Gotta run", Jane says and dashes for the door.
John watches the back of her sundress ride up as she bends to fiddle with her backpack. She smiles back over her shoulder at John, who's holding his coffee mug in two hands and gazing at her over the top. The coffee cools.
I know what she's doing. We've been a tag team for years, she and me, leading John while letting him thinks he's in charge. She's holding that pose and quietly watching John undress her. She even wiggles slightly to test his trance. She knows how to play a man. I, of course, am standing ramrod straight in his tented chinos, firing chemical and electrical signals non-stop up his groggy channels to his slow lizard brain. Yep, she and me's a team!
She's finally satisfied."Missing you already, daddy!" And Dick too, I think. And then she's gone.
Like the Cheshire cat, she leaves her smile and scent of her fertility wafting in the air.
Ten minutes later John slowly lowers the cold coffee to the table, rubs his eyes, stands, rubs me, then throws both breakfasts out. Hey, hang on mate, you may be done for, but I need my strength!
***
Still in his trance, John gets the laundry hamper and heads upstairs. First stop, Jane's room.
He bends to pick up various bits of clothing she's dropped, including multiple panties and bras. For years he's made sure she has plenty to spare so she doesn't miss them when they disappear.
Most go in the hamper, but some are sniffed and if the item takes his fancy—which I alert him to with cascading signals from crotch to lizard brain—he keeps it for his collection in the locked bottom drawer. They're usually panties, but sometimes a bra, t-shirt or sock.
He also opens Jane's underwear drawer and finds the pills hidden at the back. It's a secret prescription he organized years ago for Jane from a sympathetic doctor friend—safe sex with no written record. His and Jane's secret. No point in anyone else knowing. He inspects the packet with its circle of blisters and counts the pills. This is the 13th of the month, so there should be 13 used and 18 left. But there are at least 24 left. He stares at it and strokes his chin. I like him, and he brings me plenty of tail, but God, sometimes he's a slow old cunt.