All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old.
*****
Mitch McFee walked confidently in the utter blackness of the inclining rock tunnel from the mineral hot springs toward the Great Cave and cabin of the Cavern Mine. He had plied the natural passages for four decades, and, indeed, had hewn new pathways through the mountain core in search of electrum, silver and gold. When he reached the carved niche which served as his 18-year old granddaughter's bedroom he extended his bare left foot and nudged the wooden plank door open with his great toe. Ambient light beamed from the kerosene lanterns in the upper hall and illuminated the room in front of him. As he entered, carrying Clementine, naked and clinging to his chest with her legs and arms entwined about him, their combined long shadow played across the rude sturdy furniture and onto the thick mattress of her bed. Mitch stooped and laid his charge down on her quilted comforter then straightened up and turned to the shelf near the door.
Clementine sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, watching as her father lit her lamp, then closed and bolted the door. When he turned around, she smiled and pointed at Mitch's drooping cock. "Poppa, it's still fat but it's not standin' up."
Mitch stepped across the room and stood before the young girl with his thickened dick inches from her face. He rested his hands on her bare shoulder points and grinned back at her. "Well, Darlin', you know how to fix that." In response, Clementine lifted his log with her left hand and kissed its knot sweetly. "But before you do..." Mitch interrupted her, tilting her chin up with his right hand, but not disturbing the small fist encircling his hardening prick, "I thought we've been workin', these past weeks, on learnin' the proper names for things. What do we call what you're holdin'? Surely, there's a better name than 'it'." He stroked Clementine's cheek with his thumb while her chin rested on his extended index finger.
"Well," Clementine answered proudly, "It's a 'penis,' but you also like me to call it a 'cock' or 'dick.' But, sometimes, I don't know when I should call it one name or another and, REALLY, I still just think of it as your 'THING', especially when I am kissin' it." She rubbed her chin slowly across her dad's finger. "Can I kiss it now?" She asked quietly.
Mitch struggled with himself. Self-discipline won out over the powerful urge to fuck his little girl's throat then and there. "Yes, Darlin'," he agreed, "You can kiss it, but I want to know how many rocks are on your board."
Clementine pushed her face through Mitch's hand and touched his purple bell with her tongue. "Goody!" She observed, "Your cock is leakin' already!" She swiftly slipped her lips over its head, naturally cupping his heavy nuts with her right hand, and greedily slurped up the bubble of pre-cum she had spied in Mitch's slit. When she triumphantly pulled her mouth back, the glistening helmet audibly popped into view and the sturdy turgid dick bounced like a springboard. Grabbing her father's hand, Clementine stood and led her father from the bed to a table across the room. "Look, Poppa," she said, pointing to a carved board with 30 routed circular depressions. "There's stones in the first 5 pits...it will be three more days before there's a stone in Number 8..." Clementine picked up a slate laying beside a lumpy deerskin pouch the table. "See? Ever since you gave me the Baby Board, I have been trackin' my messy time..."
"Your 'period,' you mean..." Mitch interjected.
"Yes, Poppa, my 'period'," Clementine went on, "Just like you explained. And now I know that my cycle is always, always, always 26 days... which is different from what you and Momma said, but it's true." She took a deep breath and continued. "Anyway, my mes... period, is always four days long and my last one ended yesterday. But, you never told me why the board is painted yellow from Numbers 8 through 10, orange from Numbers 11 through 13, red on 14 and 15 and then orange and yellow again, from Numbers 16 through 21." She spun around and hugged Mitch, pressing herself flat against his hard chest and belly. Her full firm teen breasts compressed on his bottom ribs. Her hands snaked behind him and rested on his taut buttocks. She lifted her face to his and asked, "Why IS that?"
Mitch had made the first board for Daphne and given it to her when she was twelve and had come crying to him because she was bleeding between her legs. He had been a single parent since her mother, Leanne, died in childbirth the spring following their discovery and homesteading of the Cavern Mine. He knew about monthly cycles but had never thought about having to explain menstruation. Mitch made the board with holes and gave it to Daphne, along with a pouch containing 30 small smooth river rocks. He instructed her to put a pebble on the board every day, from then on, and to watch for, and start a new count, the first day of her next blood flow. By the end of that year she knew she had a regular 28 day cycle and was never again surprised by her period's onset.
"The paint was your Momma's idea," Mitch replied. "We were so grateful when she got pregnant with you." He bent his head and kissed Clementine, rubbing his hands lightly up and down her back. "But," he went on," We knew that our life was a hard one and thought it would be unfair to have more children. So, your mother painted her board with colors, estimating the days in her cycle when she thought she might be more or less likely to conceive: Red on the riskiest middle days of the month; with orange on either side, and then yellow. From what I told her about eggs and sperms, she figured the first and last week of her cycle were safest and left those pits unpainted. She called it her 'Baby Board' because it was a way for us to predict whether she might get pregnant when we fucked."
"Well," Clementine replied, thoughtfully, "It seems to have worked pretty good." A slight frown appeared on her face. " How come I didn't get a board and a bag of pebbles until I was 16?" She asked. Her unblinking, penetrating, gray eyes required a candid response,
"Well," Mitch replied, "Momma was there to explain about the facts of life when you were younger, and there were no boys or men to make a baby with, so it wasn't necessary." He took in a deep breath. His chest pushed against Clementine and his standing cock poked against her tummy. "But we had also made plans to get you into the civilized world after you were 18 and we wanted you to be smart, not only about books, but about men and life. So, I made another board and gave it to you for a tool you can use to control your own biological destiny." He kissed her again and concluded, "It would be wrong for us to send you out in the world without that ability. Which is ALSO why I have been teachin' you, since you turned 18, about your body and men."
"Poppa..." Clementine whispered, "Can I tell you somethin'?"
"Anythin', Darlin'," Mitch answered.
"I wanted you to start teachin' me two years ago!" Clementine laughed and slid her hands to Mitch's crotch, capturing his flag and rocks.
