The Tal

Author's note: This is a work of fiction. All characters are portrayed as being 18 years of age or older. This work does not, in any way, condone sexual misdeeds conducted by family members and should not be perceived as such.

If you like where this is going, please let me know in the Public Comments section at the end of this story. And, don't worry, there IS more to come!

By the time I had made it back to our bedroom, my wife Kathy was already in the process of preparing for bed. As she lifted her dress over her head, she heard me close our bedroom door and immediately began to talk.

"Can you believe those two?" she asked, her voice muffled. Her head appeared as the dress finally came off her body to reveal, and I cannot say this often enough, the most beautiful woman in my life. Her plentiful, large breasts, ensconced in a green lace bra from Victoria's Secret, jiggled and swayed with the motion of her body as she looked at me with a perplexed expression on her face. "What in the world's come over them?"

I smirked at her, sinful thoughts already in my mind of she and I rolling around in the sheets, but I forced down the thoughts in order to remain in husband/daddy mode. I shrugged and shook my head with amusement. "Aside from hormones and a burgeoning appreciation of all things sexual, I haven't a clue." She stared at me as though I had missed the point of her question. I relented and approached her as I began to unbutton my shirt. "Listen, honey," I said seriously, "they're KIDS. Grown kids who're in the verge of becoming full-fledged adults, but they're still kids. And they're going to test boundaries and push limits. It's what they do. Be thankful that they TALK with us instead of just jumping to their own conclusions, okay? I have no doubt in my mind that if she were dedicated enough, Sue would have absolutely NO problem seducing her brother." I gazed at my wife's eyes. "I didn't see that kind of prevarication in her behavior tonight, did you?"

"In regards to David?" she asked. "No. But you.... I'm not so sure."

"What?" I asked incredulously. "What in the world are you talking about?"

Kathy's eyes twinkled mischieviously. "Oh, come on, I was a girl once, too. I know the looks, okay?"

I was totally baffled and took a step back. For the life of me I thought she was about to accuse me of something and I wanted to be prepared for the onslaught, even though I was totally innocent of any wrongdoing. I had patently NOT given any "looks" of any kind to anyone in that room- other than the stern, fatherly looks any good dad would wear when putting his children in their place. "Looks? What looks?"

Kathy sat down on the bed hard, which caused her tits to bounce a little, and bent her panties so that the slightest tuft of pubic hair (of which there was very little to begin with) peeked out. "HER looks," she said haughtily. "While I was making it clear that I was happy with you as my lover, your attention was still focused on Dave. I don't know if you caught my glimpse at you, but it was because I'd noticed 'the look' on Sue's face."

I repeated myself more carefully this time, calmer. "What. Look."

"All girls get it when they're looking at a guy they're thinking about dating or kissing or fucking. It's the 'I wonder if he'd give me an orgasm' look. It looks both cunning and coy at the same time. Don't tell me you haven't seen it before."

I arched my eyebrows in surprise. "From you? Plenty of times. From our daughter? Never." I sat down next to Kathy, stunned at this revelation.

Kathy, however, seemed more annoyed than truly upset. "I played dumb, like I didn't notice it, but us girls- we have a sixth sense about these kinds of things. We're very territorial about our men. Especially when the man in question can make me feel the way you do."

A very noticeable aspect of my ego inflated at hearing that, but I merely smiled appreciatively. "Jealous?" I asked. "Of our daughter?"

Kathy glowered at me. "Not yet. And I'd very much like to keep it that way. Capiche?"

I kissed my wife gently and quickly on her lips. "Honey, of all the people in the world I could cheat with, OUR DAUGHTER is the last on the list. DEAD last."

Kathy was quiet for several long seconds. When I noticed the silence, I asked what was on her mind NOW. She bit her lip. "Paul? Are you still happy with me? Sexually?"

I paused in the process of unbuttoning my jeans and looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "What in the hell brought THAT on?"

"Well..." she said quietly. "You've just admitted to me that, one, you'd cheat on me and, two, our daughter is on a list of people you'd cheat with."

It took a Herculean act of willpower NOT to roll my eyes. I brought my hand up to her chin and held her so that she could look nowhere else but at me. "Look," I said, "you are my WIFE. There is no list and I'd have to be the world's biggest idiot to cheat on you, EVER. You're the sexiest woman alive. Bar none."

She actually looked worried. "Really?"

I kissed her firmly but lovingly. When our lips parted I said, "Absolutely."

She pointed down at my crotch. "Then why do you have a hard-on?"

I glanced down at myself. Indeed, I did have a hard-on. I laughed and looked back up at her. "With the world's sexiest woman sitting next to me in her underwear? I can't imagine." I leaned in for a deeper kiss. "Maybe I should explain it to you."

She visibly relaxed and wrapped her arms around me. "Hmmm... maybe you should," she kissed just below my earlobe and then added. "A few times, just to be sure that I don't forget."

My hands began to roam her back and I felt for the clasp to her bra. "By the time I'm through, sweetheart, you'll be lucky to remember your name." The clasp came undone quickly and I helped her slide the garment off her chest. As the fabric slid away, I gracefully traced her left areola with my fingertips and pointedly avoided the actual nipple.

Her head rolled back at the gentle touch and she sighed. "Mmmmm.... I think I might be forgetting it already."

I pulled back teasingly. "Is that so? Can't have that. Go on. Tell me your name, woman."

She looked at me with playful eyes. "Um... Salma Hayek."

I stifled a laugh. "Be damned," I said. "I've been waiting to hear that for years."

Then she did laugh as she grabbed my head in her hands and kissed me fiercely. "Come get some," she said as she pulled me back onto the bed with her. "I've got lots to give."

That night we made love like two crazy teenagers. Not once did our talk with the kids about incest come up in conversation except at the very last, when we were done and about to drift off to sleep.

"Just don't forget," Kathy said dreamily. "You're MY man."

At first I had no idea what she was talking about except for the obvious fact that I AM her man, so I simply said, "Damn straight," with a slight mumble. Just before sleep claimed me, my mind burped and reminded me that her statement had been a loaded one and the powerful love-making session had been a message from her, a signal to me that no one can make me feel the way I do like she can.

Three weeks later, on a Saturday afternoon, Kathy and I were at the house, just enjoying some quiet solitude for a few hours while Dave was at work and Sue was out with friends. The peace was broken, however, when Sue breezed in. "Hi, Mom! Hi, Dad!" She didn't wait to hear our replies and just headed straight for the bathroom which was adjacent to our living room. "Be right back," she called over her shoulder, "I've been waiting to do this for HOURS!" The bathroom door slammed shut after her.

I looked up at my wife with a bemused expression on my face as we both lowered our books. "Oh well," I said. "It couldn't last forever." I heard the flush of the toilet.

Kathy chuckled and resumed her reading. The room was quiet for a few moments until we heard a shriek come from the bathroom. Kathy and I both set our books down with alarm. She looked at me with concern on her face and stood up. "I better go check it out," she said. "Might be a girl thing."

I nodded gravely at her and put my own book down to wait. I had lost all interest in the story when I heard our baby girl scream.

Kathy left quickly and knocked on the bathroom door. "Sue, honey? What's wrong?"

"Mom?" Sue's voice came through the door muffled. "Oh, thank God. Um... could you come in here, please?" I heard Kathy open the door and step into the bathroom quickly. Almost as soon as the door was closed I heard her give a small cry of surprise, too, which was quickly followed by an outburst of laughter. "Moooom!" Sue wailed. "Don't laugh! It's not funny!"

Their voices quieted down, too much for me to hear anything but the occasional murmur for endless seconds as they discussed whatever it was that had caused such a stir. Personally, I was damned curious, but stayed where I was out of respect. A few moments later Kathy came back out of the bathroom alone and walked over to me, a smile plastered on her face. She looked like she was about to die of laughter.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She looked down at me and collected herself. "A tick," replied my wife. "She's got a tick."

I arched my eyebrows. "So? Did you guys forget where the tweezers are?" I didn't mean to sound insensitive, but that seemed like a pretty small problem, all things considered.

Kathy shook her head. "No, it's not that. It's... well... it's WHERE the tick is located, that's the problem. And you know me- I won't go near a bug if I can help it." This was true: Kathy had harbored a fear of insects ever since she was a little girl. I tried to counsel her through it, but we never managed to cure her of the phobia. In the grand scheme of things, it was a small and relatively easy fear to live with, so we let it go. Apparently, some fears are inherited, for Susan couldn't stand the sight of bugs, either.

I stood up, certain of the fact that the responsibility had fallen down to me. "Okay," I said with a sigh. "I'll take care of it."

As I started to head towards the bathroom, my wife grabbed my arm. "No. Wait. The tick... it's..."

I looked at her, perplexed. "What?"

She looked down at her groin signficantly. I didn't miss the meaning. "Down there," she said. Then she looked up at me with wide eyes. I stared at her silently, not sure of how to proceed. "Maybe we should go to a doctor and have him pull it out?" she suggested.

I frowned at that. Insurance wouldn't cover the doctor's visit, just for a tick extraction, and even though we weren't hurting for money, that would be a pretty silly waste.

Kathy, though, quickly reconsidered when she saw the look on my face. "You know what? Screw it. She's your daughter. You've seen her naked lots of times-"

"BEFORE she hit puberty," I reminded her.

Kathy nodded and then shrugged. "Still, that's a pretty lousy justification for paying a hundred dollars just to remove a tick." She paused a moment and then added. "You do it. But I'm watching."

I was surprised a little by that. "It's just a tick, honey."

Kathy frowned. "Screw the tick. That's our little girl, who's not so little anymore. I'm watching." She repeated herself and her tone made it clear that she wouldn't back down on the matter.

"Daaaaddy!" Susan yelled from the bathroom plaintively.

I shrugged. "Okay," I said to Kathy. "Come on. Let's get this over with."

Like soldiers on a mission, my wife and I marched to the bathroom. I opened the door and saw Susan. She sat on the toilet seat, her legs wide open, short summer skirt bunched up around her waist and no panties on. Her pussy was completely exposed. In the scant few seconds my eyes took in many interesting details. For starters, my daughter had quite a nice-looking pussy. Second, she shaved her mound (which made sense, seeing as how she was on the cheerleading squad and wouldn't want stray pubic hairs to accidentally show while doing a kick at a game). Third, she was shaking like a leaf. Fourth, her pussy lips looked a little swollen, like they'd seen some recent activity (out with friends? Or a "FRIEND"?). And, lastly, there was a small speck of black on her left labia majora, which was undoubtedly the infamous tick.

I tried not to let any of this register on my face and forced myself to exude a confident, commanding and calm facade. I looked up at my daughter's face and saw her wide, fearful eyes. All sexual thoughts about my daughter evaporated when our eyes locked, and my world became nothing but the concern for my Susan's well-being. "Are you okay, Kitten?" I asked with care.

"No!" she cried. "I've got a BUG on my PUSSY! Get it off!!"

"Susan-" Kathy started to say, her tone threatening. I could tell that she was about to read her the riot act for cussing so openly in front of her parents.

I looked at Kathy quickly. "Let's worry about remonstrations later, hon. More important things demand our attention."

Kathy looked from me to Susan and back again, sufficiently chagrined. Considering the circumstances, a little cuss word was no big deal and, in fact, totally understandable. "I'll get the tweezers from the linen closet," Kathy said brusquely.

I knelt in front of Sue and kept my gaze on her eyes and nowhere else. "Any idea how you got it?" I asked her.

Sue didn't even stop to think about it and just blurted out the truth. "I was messing around with one of the guys out in a field of grass. Nothing happened. I SWEAR it. We were just kissing and stuff. But our friends wanted to go see a movie, so we hadda stop. I musta got it when we were rolling around in the grass." She looked a little bashful. "Sorry."

I fought the urge to laugh at her predicament. Here she was, her legs splayed wide open for her father to see, and SHE was apologizing? What a pickle. I shook my head at her gently. "It's okay, Kitten. You're a big girl now and you're going to do those kinds of things. I fully expect it." I tried to direct the conversation to safer ground. "So, did you have fun, otherwise?"

"A little," she said, somewhat relaxed that I didn't chew her out for making out with some guy. "Mostly, we just shot the breeze and chilled." She smiled a little more clearly. "The girls asked me to tell them a story while we were out there." Telling her friends stories was kind of like a favorite past-time for Sue and definitely something her friends enjoyed. Sue, on top of a love for words, had been blessed with a powerful imagination. She could spin a yarn at a moment's notice and tell it so convincingly that you'd have thought she'd written it years before and recited it from memory. Considering her upbringing, this was no great surprise.

"Really?" I asked. "What was this one about?"

Kathy came back with the tweezers and handed them to me before Sue could answer. "Here," she said. "I dipped them in rubbing alcohol first." She looked at Sue. "They might be kinda cold. Sorry."

Sue looked up at her mother with a small smile. "It's okay, Mom. Thanks." She looked down at me as I tried valiantly to look anywhere else but the Cause of our Dilemma. Then she looked back at Kathy. "Um... Mom? Are you gonna watch or something?"

I could sense Kathy tense in the doorway. "Do you mind?" she asked tentatively. Her tone wasn't confrontational, but sweet-sounding.

"Actually," replied Sue, "I was kinda hoping you'd hold my hand while Dad... um... works on me."

Kathy walked past me to stand by Susan on the commode and looked down at me with a blank look. She took our daughter's hand and said, "Sure, honey. I'm here for you."

Now I DID roll my eyes. This was a tick extraction, not brain surgery. I flexed the tines of the tweezers and said, "Shall we begin or should I go get the portable CD player, put on some classical music to soothe everyone's nerves?"

Kathy started to object to my tone, but Susan giggled. "No. Go ahead, Daddy. Take it out of me." She looked down at me, her eyes once again wide with fear. "Will it hurt?" she said in a small voice, sounding for all the world like she was six years old again.

"It shouldn't, Kitten," I answered. "But tell me if it does, okay?" She nodded at me and bit her lip in anticipation. I closed my eyes to gather my wits about me and then opened them, returning my focus on my daughter's vagina. The tick was still there and didn't seem too intent on coming out on its own. I moved the tweezers in close and grabbed its tiny body with the tines. I pulled a few times and all I managed to do was make Sue's pussy lips open just a little more on their own. Her pink flesh winked at me a few times and her inner walls glinted briefly in the bathroom's harsh light. But the tick still did not want to come free. I tried again, but to no avail.

I sat back on my haunches and huffed in exasperation, frustrated that this was more complicated than I would have liked. I glanced around the bathroom and my eyes fell on Sue's purse. "Kitten," I asked, "would you happen to have any nail polish in there?"

Susan's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "I think so. Why?"

"Nail polish will suffocate the tick, make it want to come out more easily. I'd rather not just yank it out and leave the head in. That might cause an infection and," I nodded to her pussy, "that has got to be the WORST place to get an itch."

Susan's eyes narrowed as her mind clicked into gear quickly. "Wait," she said with a wry grin crossing her beautiful features. "If you yank, you'll leave the head in and cause an itch? Dad, in some cultures, that's a GOOD thing."

"SUSAN!" Kathy cried. "BAD JOKE!"

Susan batted her eyes innocently at her mother. "Aw, c'mon, Mom. What's a little bathroom humor between adults?"

At that point, I couldn't hold in my laughter anymore. I fell back against the wall and bellowed out with glee at the absurdity of the situation. I'm a big fan of a good pun and my daughter, even in her sensitive state, had managed to pull a whopper.

Kathy, however, was not amused at all. She leveled a severe look at me first and then Susan. Without a word, she grabbed Susan's purse, opened it and withdrew the nail polish. She handed it to me with a stern expression on her face. "The label says it's quick-drying," she informed me. "Hop to it."

I got my bearings and took the bottle of nail polish. I uncapped it and brought the brush close to Susan's pussy lips. I cast an uncertain look up at both women and saw nothing but juxtaposition: while Kathy looked like she was about to lose her temper, Susan had the most exultant and expectant look on her face. Now that I knew what to look for, I could see The Look that my wife had described writ large upon Susan's features. I took a deep breath, swallowed hard and began to apply the nail polish in the area around where I figure the tick's head probably was. I used small, gentle strokes of the brush and tried my best to be as clinical about the activity as possible.

Susan's thighs jumped just the slightest bit when the brush first came into contact with her most sensitive skin, but she otherwise managed to stay completely still while she held firmly onto her mother's hand. Kathy watched on silently with intense interest. Once the nail polish had been completely applied, I began to blow on it gently, more out of a force of habit than anything- that's what you do to nail polish once it's been applied, right?

The effect was immediate. Susan started to get a little more moist and audibly cooed, even while my wife held her hand. Startled, I stopped blowing and looked up at Kathy.

My wife was a study in conflicted interests. On the one hand she was watching her husband blow gently on her daughter's pussy, while her daughter was clearly enjoying it. On the other hand, that same daughter had a parasite firmly entrenched in that particular area and it needed to be removed. I would swear that my wife looked like she didn't know if she should shout or pout. After a few seconds she relented and gave me a small nod to continue, her eyes still wary.