The Sins of the Fathers

Locus poenitente and the road less traveled aside. Life goes on. Premonitions. Missed opportunities. Time and life wait for no man, Jack Grant!

It was Saturday morning at the Grant household. Nikki sat with her customary bowl of Cheerios with milk. Jack was nursing his second cup of coffee. The breakfast conversation had taken a slight detour, kind of like Jack's life. Bizarre was becoming commonplace! Is it still bizarre if it's common?

"I want one!" she couldn't even get the words out without blushing.

Jack turned beet red, swallowing hard and desperately trying to look anywhere else in the room but at his daughter.

I have to say something; I can't just sit here with my mouth open. Think, Jack. Think!

"Okay ... so, why? I mean what do you need one for?"

Jesus, Jack, could you be more pathetic as a father?

"Because, I just do!" she snapped back, stubbornly digging in her heels.

Duh, what do you think I want one for? You makes me so mad sometimes. It's not like I'm asking for a car! Hey, that reminds me, I need a car for college.

"Where do you buy them, Daddy? Not at the mall, I bet." Antsy, she briefly gazed down at her legs. When her head popped back up, she caught the look in his eyes. Hers twinkled, knowing full-well he was uncomfortable with the whole subject.

"Well, Nicole, there are places for couples to go and shop for this kind of stuff," he admitted. He cleared his throat again, fighting to keep his voice from cracking like a teenage boy with a woody. They're called 'Adult Stores or Arcades'.

They're really called 'Sex Shops'!

"That's sounds really cool. Can we go to one?" she asked innocently.

"Those kind of stores aren't exactly located in 'The Mall', Nikki," he backtracked furiously, clenching his teeth. He studied her face, checking to see if she was understanding any part of his explanation.

Nope, nothing but an expression of pure puzzlement. She hasn't got a clue what I'm talking about.

He went on, "Not the ones with sex toys and movie arcades and movie rentals."

"You can rent movies? Like Blockbuster? I wish they'd never shut their store down; I used to love going there with you when I was little." Now, she was totally enthused. She smiled, thinking of

'The Incredibles' and 'Kung-Fu Panda'

.

Quaaaa!

"No, definitely not like Blockbuster," Jack answered truthfully. "Adult movies."

"I'm an adult."

Jack smiled broadly.

Still so innocent! God bless you, good sisters!

"No, Nikki, not 'adult' meaning your age. A-D-U-L-T ... you know, XXX-rated. Porn?"

Nicole shrugged. "But they have sex toys too, right? So, how do you know where one is, Daddy?"

"

Your mom and I have been to them together. You know ... your mom, my wife? We were adults, too!"

Once upon a time, long ago, in a land far, far away!

Oh Lord, my head hurts. Talking about this stuff makes my head fucking feel like it is gonna explode. I bet my blood pressure is ... like ... well ... fucking high! High enough to make me have a stroke!

"Mom watched porn? She had sex toys?" Nikki was bubbling with interest now. "What kind of movies? What kind of sex toys?"

"Okay, time out!" Jack brought his hands up in the referee T-sign, halting the onslaught of questions. "If you want to know about what kind of porn your mom likes or what kind of toys she might have liked, you're simply going to have to ask her. I'm not going to speak for her about these kinds of questions. I don't have the right."

And, for God's sake, don't mention that I talked to you about this.

"Mom goes to porn stores! This is sooooooo cool!"

Jack sweated as he saw the little calculations going on behind her eyes.

There are so many ways this conversation can go wrong! So many ways! Fuck!

"Okay, let's go to one of those stores," Nikki babbled excitedly, "then I can see what they look like. How big they are. How long!" She shivered at the thought. "Can I touch one to see what it feels like? You know, in my hand?" When she caught Jack just staring at her with his mouth hanging open, she promptly switched gears and demurely looked down at her lap. A picture of childlike innocence, she sat there looking like an angel, absentmindedly twisting a portion of the shirt she held in her small hands.

Her prim little Pollyanna pose had the desired effect on Jack. "Nikki Sweetheart, you're too young. Well, technically not too young, but I'm your dad and it wouldn't be appropriate to go there with me. I mean, Honey, I'm sorry; but remember, it's not exactly Blockbuster," he tried to explain. "These are definitely big person places."

"Secret places? Secret big person places?"

Full of secrets, I bet.

He laughed. "No, not secret ... not in that way."

"So, is it in a mall or not?" she demanded, pressing him for the info. She sensed his resistance.

I smell a secret. Definitely has the feeling of secrecy.

"No. Well, yes ... sorta," he vacillated. "Sometimes an 'Adult Store' uses the same parking lot as a mall; but it's always located in a separate building, far from the other stores and the main entrance."

She worked the problem, logically, just like a lawyer's daughter. Any answer, and most questions, had to meet this standard if your dad was an attorney.

She looked up and straight into Jack's eyes. "You're right, Daddy. I need stop being so impulsive and think about this logically, like you've always taught me."

There is a God! Hot damn and hallelujah! It's taken eighteen years, but she's finally coming around. Logic, yes, use that head.

"I'm so damn proud of you, Nikki; you're being very mature about this whole thing. Like I've told you a million times, 'Always use your brain. Arguments aren't won by being emotional; they're won by being rational.'"

"I know, Dad, and I think I've always appreciated it," she answered submissively. "But, now, I'm just trying to put it altogether. So, can we talk about it?"

"Fire away, Nikki; I'm all ears."

At last, a real and non-threatening Daddy-Daughter chat. No sex, no melodrama, and no guilt. No sneaking around, no regrets. And best of all, no hellfire and damnation! What a fucking relief!

Nikki began hesitantly, "Okay, here goes. Big person places equal adult places. Correct?"

"Absolutely," Jack agreed.

"I'm an adult," she continued slickly, immediately pouncing on Jack the moment he attempted to open his mouth. "Am I eighteen years of age or not, Counselor?"

"Okay ... you're eighteen," he conceded warily.

"Then your objection is overruled." Nikki's smile was wickedly smug.

Get ready, Daddy, here it comes. You are so going to lose this one.

"So ... if I had a boyfriend and, like me, he was over eighteen, he could legally take me to the Adult Store to see the toys. Correct?"

"Yes, if you had a boyfriend over eighteen, he could take you."

However, I'm having trouble picturing in my mind any boy surviving into adulthood if I found out that he'd taken you to a Porn Shop.

"So, couldn't you pretend to be my boyfriend just this once.?" Her eyes pleaded with him.

I am so fucked!

"I would look like a child molester, taking you to a place like that!" he blurted out. It was heartfelt, but he hadn't carefully weighed the words.

Hell, I may be a child molester; I just don't want to look like one. Jesus, that's not exactly staking out a moral high ground for an argument!

"I'm not a child!"

"No, you're right. You aren't a child." Jack threw up his hands in frustration, acknowledging a poorly thought-out response.

She looked up. Jack could see the wheels turning. "Daddy, you could leave me in the parking lot and bring one out for me to see. Couldn't you?"

He wiped his hand across his brow. There was sweat on it, just like when he was cross- examining a person in a hearing but actually didn't know what they might say next.

"Yeah, I guess there wouldn't be any harm. I mean ... I guess we could do that. After all, the parking lot isn't inside the store." Jack tried to get his head wrapped around taking his just-turned-eighteen-year-old daughter to an adult movie store. He parsed the words out like a good attorney, searching for an appropriate way to describe the clearly inappropriate.

No, to the parking lot of the store, not into the store itself!

Even as Jack was absorbed in his lawyer's mental gymnastics, Nikki was busy gathering up his wallet and keys. He was still working the angles when she took his hand and dragged him towards the front door. Next thing he knew, he was firing up the jeep.

On the drive there, it didn't help when she put her hand on his thigh, squeezed gently and simply said, "It'll be okay, Dad."

His cock throbbed and lurched in his pants. She felt it and leaned into his neck, whispering to him, "You'll see. It'll be fun." She traced the outline of his growing erection through his trousers.

You think so, too. I can tell.

En route, Jack nearly had a wreck twice and, on both occasions, his life flashed before his eyes like a movie; nevertheless, they made it to the parking lot alive. Fortunately, it wasn't busy. As Jack switched off the jeep's engine, all he could think was,

Thank you, God!

On the other hand, Nikki was perky as chipmunk, looking around everywhere, not wanting to miss a thing. He handed her a ball cap, ordering sternly, "Put this over your hair, so you look like a boy. I don't like leaving you out here, so lock the door when I get out. Got it?"

It's just a parking lot, Daddy.

But, she merely nodded quietly and gave him both thumbs-up. Jack guessed the cute, little two thumbs-up sign meant 'OK' in teen body language. She turned the mirror so she could make sure her pony-tail was straight through the back of the ball cap. Turning her head to the side,

Cute!

He took one last look at her and walked away from the car. Entering the front door of the store, he noted that the parking lot was on a surveillance camera. A young black man, barely out of his teens, was working behind the counter; his name tag read 'Randy'. Unexpectedly, the kid looked him straight in the eyes and said, "Good afternoon, sir."

The young guy looked familiar, healthy, strong, tall and fit. The kid could see the puzzlement on his face. He smiled and said simply, "Running back, Oregon University."

It clicked and Jack smiled. He had paid good money to see the kid play football.

You're a great football player. What the hell are you doing working here?

The kid saw the recognition combined with confusion and said, shrugging his shoulders, "It's just a living."

Jack grinned; this young man was easy to like. He held out his hand, surprising the kid. "Yes, Randy," he said, "indeed it is." They shook hands.

Good handshake

, each decided with approval. Then Jack turned and ambled away, looking for the section with the toys.

Watching Jack, Randy thought,

I bet you haven't been here before.

His eyes followed Jack as he wandered around, looking at one thing then another.

Clearly he's searching for something in particular, but he hasn't got a clue where to look.

He walked around the counter and walked up behind Jack, gently placing his hand on Jack's shoulder. "Can I help?"

Jack jumped; Randy jumped. They looked at each other, and both suddenly broke out laughing; the tension evaporated instantly. Jack asked, "Must be pretty obvious that I don't come here much, huh?"

Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, Randy simply replied, "Well yeah, you look a little lost, kinda like someone who has never been in one of these places."

"I used to go places like this with my wife," Jack hesitated and cleared his throat. "But now we don't," he stammered, "We ... she and I. We're separated; I mean ... divorced."

Randy looked down, noticing Jack's wedding band. He cocked an eyebrow. Still wearing a ring!

Jack took no offense. He looked at his ring finger, twisting the wide gold band, " I'm one of those guys you sometimes read about; I just never got used to not having it on my finger."

Randy shook his head, nodding

Yes

; but thinking,

Okay, I'm trying to make sense of this. According to you, this isn't a midlife crisis; so, let's try another approach.

Randy casually waved his hand towards the back of the store. "Okay then, the quick tour. That way is the 'arcade' and 'private viewing booths'." Then, he pointed left. "On these shelves, we've got the brand-new DVD movies for sale." He paused, expecting Jack to ask about the movies; but, Jack didn't say a word. Randy breezed right on, pointing to his right. "Those racks, over there, are our previously viewed DVD movies for rent or purchase."

Jack just shook his head, sighing,

Nope, not what I'm really interested in.

Hmm

,

this guy's a real enigma.

"How about some lingerie for the little woman?" he ventured. Randy didn't miss the fact that Jack blushed immediately. He'd thought that he had Jack pegged; but, from the look of things, he hadn't guessed right. At least, not yet.

Perplexed, Randy scratched his head. "Okay, looks like? Has three syllables. First syllable sounds like?" Maybe, he could joke the information out of Jack.

To his surprise, Jack wasn't even listening; he was too busy looking at a Tartan Skirt. Obviously he recognized the pattern, because he frowned and held it up.

Randy laughed. "Yeah, School-Girl Fantasy Costume."

"But, this is a tartan from ... "

My fucking daughter's school! That is her school tartan. Shit! I wonder if the good sisters know?

"Immaculate Conception Academy for Girls," Randy finished.

"Why?"

Shit! Come on, Jack, think fast.

"I guess it kinda caught me by surprise. My god-daughter just graduated from there."

And, so did my daughter who is waiting outside in the jeep. No lets not mention that little tidbit.

"You're not the first guy to walk in here and be surprised by it. Most people don't know that, in addition to the films about school girls, shops like this ... the industry, I mean, adjusts for each community it's in. So, each store has slightly different merchandise, slightly different movies, slightly different toys. And, in this case, each store carries different tartan-skirt patterns that match the local girls' school, if there is one."

Jack's jaw dropped.

I gotta get out more often!

"Marketing data analysis of what sells and what doesn't by user demographics and information from client credit cards compared to card-user purchases," Randy chattered on. "Modern marketing has evolved a great deal in the last couple of decades. It's way past someone, who stands around on street corners in the seedy part of town, wearing an open raincoat with pockets full of dirty movies and stops guys to ask them, 'Hey Mister, see anything you want?'"

This time Jack laughed and held his hands up in surrender. "Sex toys? I'm looking for sex toys."

"For you or someone else?"

Blushing, Jack quickly volunteered, "Not for me. For a young woman." Randy immediately picked up on the phrase for a 'young' woman and smiled. He sized up Jack again.

You're maybe fifty years-old, still in good shape, tan, well dressed. Middle-aged crisis s written all over you.

Randy saw a lot of men in here, learning new tricks in their middle age from 'a younger woman'. He frowned; Jack didn't look the type. For one thing, it was crystal clear that he was really embarrassed. For another, the mid-life crises types usually brought the 'younger woman' in with them to show her off. It was kind of fun sometimes, picturing the couples together. Sometimes the picture was 'sexy' and other times 'kinda like the crypt keeper'. Just a harmless game that passed the time.

"Come on, they're up at the front counter," Randy said.

He walked behind the counter, waving his hand, guiding Jack's gaze to the glass-covered case. Jack's jaw dropped. Randy laughed. "Yeah, every kind, every shape, every size."

Jack couldn't stop himself, "Every color?!" He flushed crimson, realizing what he'd said could be taken wrong.

Oh, that was one politically incorrect, racially insensitive fuck-up, dumb ass

!

But Randy was already grinning. "Oh, yeah," he replied, "there's very little racism in the bedrooms of small college-town America." He just shook his head, sighing wistfully, "Very little."

"And you would know this because ...?" Jack looked up.

Randy just smiled. "I'm very popular with the young white girls at the junior college," he laughed, "and some of the female faculty and/or faculty wives." He hesitated, thinking; then added, "And, with some couples. A few couples." Randy sighed again. "Well, maybe more than a few."

Jack grinned back at the good-looking kid. "I'll just bet you are."

Christ, there is a whole side to this town I didn't even know existed.

"No, I mean VERY popular," Randy challenged Jack. "I'll tell you a secret; these young white girls move away from home for the first time. No 'Daddy' to tell them what to do. Sometimes, I think they come after me only 'cause they wonder what their parents would say if they could see them with me."

"Meaning a rebellion kinda thing?" Jack speculated.

"Maybe ... but, then again, sometimes it's because they like big dicks." Jack looked up. Randy just grinned the proverbial shit-eating grin.

Yeah, you heard it right!

Jack didn't back off an inch. "Yeah, my wife was like that. I mean, about big."

Randy was starting to like this guy for his candor; but, he pushed back a little. "Some just like it big. Some like it big and black."

Jack simply mumbled, "Yeah, she ... I mean, my wife ... liked that, too. A lot." After a couple of more minutes, Jack raised his eyes from the case. "That's a hell of an assortment you've got in there. Guess I gotta get out more often."

How the fuck to I chose?

Randy asked, "What are you looking for? What would she like?"

"I am not sure." Jack frowned. "How do other guys pick out one of these for someone special, someone very special?"

Randy was enjoying this, because Jack clearly wasn't used to this setting. "Well, usually they bring the woman along."

Hint, hint, hint!

Before Jack could stop himself, he blurted out, "She's out in the car."

Jesus, Jack, why not just spit out, my daughter's out in the car.

"Well hell, man, go get her and bring her in. I won't bite her. And there's no one here right now for her to be embarrassed," Randy suggested. He expected Jack to just go get her. Jack didn't.

That's odd!

"I ... uh ... she," he stammered. "Look, you must sell a whole lot of these. What do women like?" Jack asked, trying to cover his embarrassment.

Randy didn't miss the attempt to cover, but he answered, "Depends. Some like the cool shiny things that vibrate, some like these little balls that go ... well, they go inside. They have batteries. Some like ...." he paused, reaching inside the display case and brought out a very realistic-looking latex dildo. "Some women prefer these." The package contained a lifelike flexible penis.

Randy probed, "Look, I need to ask. Is it for you or for her?"

"What do you mean, for me?!" Jack thought,

What the hell? Do I look like a 'rump-ranger'?

Randy threw his hands up defensively, "Listen! I don't mean to judge or offend. I'm just asking." He held up another lifelike latex penis, except it was on a belt. "Sometimes the toy is for the woman to play at being a guy." He smiled, adding," You know, the old joke? 'Honey, can I be Frank tonight?' "

Jack laughed out loud; once again, the tension vanished. "God! I haven't heard that one in years! And the answer to your question is, 'No'; I will not be switch-hitting, changing teams, or on the receiving end."