The Tal

Author's note/disclaimer: All characters in this story are fictional and portrayed as being at or above legal age of sexual consent. While this story deals primarily with topics of incest, I do not in any way condone or advocate such acts. Again, this is only a work of fiction which is meant to help others enjoy a fantasy setting without actually hurting anyone.

I hope you like this next installment of "The Talk" series. As with the previous two chapters, comments in the Public Comments area are appreciated. Votes, also, are highly appreciated. So... onward we go!

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Two weeks after the "tick" incident is when things started to turn upside down for me and my family. I caught my children inflagrante delecto, with each other. Of course they hadn't intended for me to catch them and I certainly had no idea that it had been going on. My discovery of their illicit affair was a total surprise and accident.

Kathy had been out of the house that day, since early in the morning, to tend to her bed & breakfast business, with plans to be gone for two more days. Apparently, her most recent clients/guests were rather high-maintenance and wanted to be waited on hand-and-foot. Such situations, while uncommon, come with the territory when a person runs a business like Kathy's. She gets called away from home about twice a year to look after such guests. We all take it in stride and tend to view such absences as one would a business trip. She is usually gone for no more than two or three days and since we're all adults, it doesn't impact the household significantly.

On the day in question, I had to deal with a rather needy client of my own, a deeply depressed patient who had a habit of calling me for a house-visit every few months. So I left a note to the kids along with $20 for pizza, for when they woke up later that Saturday afternoon. This particular client, I knew from past experience, could easily take up a good portion of my day. Fortunately, however, my visit ended up quite short. It was a "false alarm", but the patient felt so bad about it that he'd paid me for the three hours of counseling he expected he would have needed, had there been a real emergency. Sometimes it pays to let people guilt-trip themselves, I guess. My work was done there before I ever set foot through the door.

On the way back home, however, my car decided that today was a good day to die. I had to phone a mechanic to come tow the vehicle and repair it, which had cost me roughly the same amount that I'd just been paid. The car would be ready a few days later, but my mechanic was good enough to drop me off at my house since it was on the way to the shop.

I walked into my home, only two hours after I'd left, and immediately found that the note and money seemed untouched, which I found gratifying. It was not yet noon, so I decided to go back to my own bed for some extra sleep. On the way there, though, I heard some noise which seemed to come from David's room. Curious, I tip-toed down the hallway to find out what was going on. As I got nearer, I heard voices, muffled sounds which floated through his door, and I got the clear impression that those noises were the sounds of two people making love. I didn't recall seeing any extra cars parked in the driveway when the mechanic had dropped me off, so I immediately deduced that Dave must have brought a girlfriend of his home the night before and that they'd only just woken up.

At first I was surprised by this. Dave, charming and confident as we raised him to be, had NEVER done this sort of thing before- at least, not that I knew of, anyway. To be honest, it was totally out of character for him. In the past he'd typically brushed aside inquiries about his love life and made it clear to all of us in the family that it was something he'd rather not discuss openly. None of us ever doubted that he HAD girlfriends because we'd seen him around town on a few dates over the years. And the idea that he might be gay, while it had indeed crossed mine and Kathy's minds, had been shot down neatly when he got busted in his Senior year for making out with a young woman- caught red-handed with his hand up a girl's sweater, like a kid with his hand in the cookie jar. Kathy and I scolded him in front of the school administrators but when we got home we found ourselves more relieved than anything. Dave, it turned out, was just shy about sharing the intimate details of his love life. No big deal.

And this is why I was surprised to hear those sounds come out of his room. This was about as brazen a thing as our son could do, short of publishing photos and sending them out to the whole family on Christmas. Maybe he'd met a woman recently who had somehow managed to help him break beyond that shyness barrier. I smiled at this idea and, perhaps more curious than I should have been, I leaned my ear against his door to hear what, exactly, such a woman could say to so easily sway him.

What I heard made my heart skip a beat. It was my daughter's voice, Susan's, which filled my ears.

"Jesus, GOD, it's so good to not have to worry about keeping our voices down for once! Faster, Dave! Deeper!" Her voice was rich and full and it was clear that she enjoyed herself. The sounds of David's bed bouncing accompanied her voice.

Dave, for his part, replied as I would expect, almost text-book. "I'm going as fast and deep as I can, sis! Stop clenching like that! I can't move!"

I took a step back away from the door, stunned and astonished at what I'd just heard. My kids continued to make their noise, oblivious to my presence just outside the door, and it sounded like they were close to climax.

"Sorry!" I heard my daughter say. "You fuck me so well, Dave, that I just- ah! Ah! Oh, yes! Ah! I just- wooo! I just get carried away! FUCK! Keep doing that! Rub it!"

"Jesus, sis," Dave said. "You're gonna push me off balance if you keep shoving back at me like that. Ooooh, damn... lean down... that's it. Oh, God, what a sight! I can't believe we haven't done it doggy-style before! And I can't believe I'm actually watching my own dick slide inside my sister's pussy! Christ! How does it feel?"

My mind churned as I tried to think of what to do, even while I heard my son reply to his sister. Everyone in the family is blessed with a rather vivid imagination- perhaps a holdover from our love of literature- and I was no different. Even though I closed my eyes to concentrate, mental images of by children beyond the door began to form in my mind. I could clearly imagine my 19-year-old son on his knees, pressed up against my daughter who was on her hands and knees as they rutted like animals in heat. I could imagine the sweat on their bodies, Susan's breasts swaying back and forth as my son hammered into her. GOD DAMN IT, I COULDN'T THINK! And the hard-on which had quickly developed in my pants hadn't helped any.

"Goo- good! No! It's great! I can feel you all the way inside me," she cried. "Oh, God, I'm SO FULL!"

"I'm gettin' close, Sue! I'm gonna cum!"

I felt my ears grow hot with emotions that I could not yet name or identify. Anger, frustration, jealousy, betrayal, passion... I felt so many things at once that I could not make sense of them. Still, however, I did nothing but stand there and try to weigh my options.

Do I kick the door in and put a stop to it? What would that serve? Clearly, they'd been doing this for a long time already. Damage was done. What would getting violent about it serve? How would that help them and would that REALLY make me feel any better about the situation? No. Probably not. Then I'd have my kids scared of me and, despite what they'd done, I love my kids. No matter what, I would NOT want them to fear me for any reason.

"Do it! DO IT! I'm there, bro! Oooooh, fuck, I'm there! Let's cum together!"

Should I just walk away and behave like I hadn't heard anything? No. That would be tantamount to condoning their actions, which I steadfastly did not. What's more is that I was not sure that I would be able to look either of them in the eye again, even if they didn't know that I knew. Changes would occur and they'd notice something was up eventually. Alienation would begin slowly and then it would fester, which would create an even bigger rift. I didn't want that, either.

"Aaaahhhh! YES! YES! Oh, geez, YES! Here's it comes, sis! Aaaaaaahhhhh- URGHhhhhh... SHIT!"

Do I wait and talk with Kathy about it first? Maybe she would have some insight or an idea of what to do. I thought about that one seriously, even as I heard David announce his impending orgasm. I shut my eyes tightly as I tried to concentrate on my thoughts. No. Going to Kathy, though appealing at first, might cause more problems than solutions. In all honesty, I was in the dark about many things. Before going to my wife with this I would need more information- dates, frequency of trysts, the question of protection (were they using any? After The Talk, I would not feel safe to make any bets one way or the other)... so many uncertainties. Kathy, loving mother though she is, might be apt to react reshly. When I talked to her about this (and I resolved that I WOULD, eventually) I would have to do it 1) away from the house and 2) armed with as much information as I can manage to get.

"Ooohhh, sweet Jesus, Dave... ha ha ha... hold on... no, lay down a minute, okay? Woo! Would you look at all of that? Damn! Hand me a towel. I can't believe all of that came outta you!"

I would swear that I HEARD the smile creep across his lips as my son said, clear as a bell, "What can I say, sis? You bring out the best in me." Then both their voices quieted down to a soft, unintelligible murmur.

So that left me with only one option. I stood against the wall opposite Dave's bedroom door and waited with my arms crossed, one foot planted against the wall and a knowing look in my eye. I didn't have to wait long, maybe five minutes while they shared some pillow-talk and regained their composure. I clearly heard Sue say that she wanted to take a shower and get back to her own bed "before Dad gets home." The door opened and I raised my eyes boldly in anticipation, not sure of what to expect other than to see my daughter.

The door parted and there she stood as she looked back at her brother, naked with my son's cum still running down her thighs out of her freshly-fucked pussy. As she turned her head to face out of the room, I saw that she wore a sly grin as well as a healthy sheen of sweat which covered her entire body. When her deep blue eyes fell on mine, she froze, stone-cold and we just stared at each other for a few brief seconds.

"Your room," I said very quietly. "Now."

She didn't protest or say anything. She just nodded, fully aware of how severely she'd been caught, and scampered past me at a brisk pace. I watched her go quickly to her room and noted, much to my chagrin, that my daughter had filled out to be quite a shapely young woman. Her 5' 5" frame disappeared into her bedroom quietly, her honey-blonde hair coming after her like a wispy breeze.

I looked back at Dave's bedroom door, which was still ajar, but closed enough for him not to see me yet. I waited a few seconds more to plan out what I wanted to say and then I slowly stepped forward and pushed the door fully open. I saw Dave as he lay on his bed with a most satisfied grin on his face and breathed heavily. He didn't hear the door open and hadn't yet seen me. I had the element of surprise over him. I stepped further into his room silently, saw a towel that hung from a corner of his dresser, grabbed it and threw it at him. It landed in such a way as to cover most of his torso and his shiny, half-erect dick.

"Hey!" he cried out jovially, still under the impression that he and his sister were alone in the house. He groped at the towel, ready to yank it off.

That's when I spoke, before he could see me. "You're lucky I threw a towel and not my fist," I said casually.

My son's hands froze. "Dad?"

"Who else, you bonehead?" He uncovered his face slowly and looked at me with large, wide, fearful, golden eyes. I noted, with a detached sort of keen observation, that his erection had completely deflated. Before he could even TRY to talk, I held up my hand. "Do you trust me?" I asked him.

"Dad, this isn't-"

"If you know what's good for you, son, you'll answer the question honestly and then shut up. I ask you again: Do. You. TRUST. Me?"

Dave covered up his groin with the towel, suddenly reminded of his modesty, and nodded. I saw him visibly gulp, not certain of what I'd say or do.

I wasn't about to clue him in just yet. "Good," I said calmly. "Now, listen very carefully. I'm going to go talk with your sister first. In the meantime, I would like very much for you to get dressed, open a window to let the smell out and wait for me to come in and have a talk with you. I don't know how long I'll be talking with Sue, so I ask you to be patient. If you're not here when I come back I won't be too terribly surprised, but I'd be sorely disappointed. No matter what happens from here on out I want you to know and remember that I love you. You are my son and I would never willfully harm you. But I need to talk with the each of you, alone, before I decide what to do next. Do you understand?"

David was silent for a few seconds and then he nodded again. "I'm sor-"

I held up my hand again. "Hold that thought. I promise we'll talk soon. Just... trust me and wait. Do as I told you. Open a window and get dressed." I didn't wait for a response and left him alone as I closed the door behind me.

When the latch clicked I heaved a massive sigh of relief. So far things had gone well. No hysterics. Yet. I still had a lot of ground to cover first.

I reached Sue's door and paused to take a deep, steadying breath. I prayed that she'd had the foresight to get dressed in the intervening moments. Seeing another man's nakedness, while not exactly at the top of my To Do list for the day, was not an alien thing for me. Having seen lots of other guys in locker rooms and gyms, I was sorta used to seeing the equipment. But seeing my daughter COMPLETELY naked for longer than a few seconds would be too much for me to bear at that moment. That was why I'd sent her to her room first, in the hope that she'd be dressed by the time I came to talk with her. I remember my high school chess coach's advice on strategy: "Always set your battlefield before going into battle. Know where your opponent is as all times and do whatever it takes to make him play by your own rules. Your best weapon is not brute force but thinking three moves beyond your current move. You lose when you get pissed off. Go into it thinking that this is YOUR game, that YOU created it and NO ONE is going to take it away from you. Don't show your plan until it is too late for him to react."

I twisted the knob and opened the door. As I had hoped, Susan sat at the edge of her bed, wrapped in a terrycloth bathrobe, tears already streaked down her face. She held her face in her hands as she openly sobbed with embarrassment, fear, dread and defeat. My baby girl is an accomplished chess player herself and knew the rules as well as I did. She knew that I already had a plan in mind and that she was helpless to stop it, whatever it was.

I closed the door quietly and sat down next to her, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, while she continued to sob. I tried my best to ignore the scent of sweat and sex that still emanated from her body like a strange perfume... and I tried not to get aroused by the thought that, under that robe, was my naked daughter. My role there, then, was as a father-figure, not some guy who wanted to get his rocks off with a younger woman. I focused on the thought of my wife, beautiful and sexy in ways I'd never known in any other woman, and held fast to my fidelity and morals. I waited as long as it took for her to calm down and, when it seemed that her emotions were finally under some kind of control, I spoke. "How long?" I asked silently prayed that my voice didn't betray my nervousness. I knew that once we actually got the conversation started, I would be able to focus on that and things could move forward in a healthy manner.

Her lower lip quivered just the tiniest bit, but she fought for control within herself. "Four weeks," she said through short breaths. "Not every day, but it started four weeks ago. Eight times since the beginning."

I thought about that and then sighed. "The tick incident? That was him you were with, wasn't it?" She nodded without a word. My daughter, while crafty and intelligent, had never been one to lie about anything. It was a quality that both Kathy and I had engendered to the best of our abilities ever since she was a child. She had long-since mastered the art of telling half-truths, but she couldn't tell an outright lie to save her life and we all knew it. "The friends you said had been with you," I prompted. "Can you name names?"

She looked up at me slowly, hesitated and then said, "I'd rather not. To protect them." Susan stared at me with wide blue eyes, not sure if that would go over well with me. "They know about us and promised not to tell a soul. And we made the same promise to them."

I chewed on that for a moment and stared straight ahead. I decided that to press the matter would be met with resistance and, therefore, unproductive, so I let it drop. "Okay," I said. "That's reasonable. I won't ask you to break a promise. But can you answer me this much: are they like you? Siblings?"

She looked away from me again and brushed her blonde bangs away from her face unconsciously and traced it back over her delicate, elfin left ear. Seeing the motion reminded me of why I'd given her the nickname "Kitten"- her ears have just the faintest hint of a point to them, which made her look either very feline or like an overgrown elf with short ears. On her sixth Halloween Kathy had dressed her up as a kitten and, from then on, the name stuck. She gave a thin-lipped nod in answer to my question and said no more on the matter. "How angry are you?" she asked.

I took another deep breath, partly in surprise. I should not have been astonished that she'd expect me to be upset, but I WAS impressed that she'd have to courage to address it. "I don't know yet," I answered honestly. "I suppose I'll be able to gauge that once I know more." I looked at her again. "I told David to wait for me in his room, that I love him and that want to get answers before I make any decisions about what to do about this. I also asked him if he trusts me. He said he did. I'm hoping that he'll wait and not run. Whatever happens, can you promise me that you won't run? From us, your mom and I? Right now, I don't know what to make of this. I don't know if I'm disappointed or angry or what. But I do know that I still love you both and I don't want you to be afraid of either me OR your mother. I'm taking a big leap of faith in saying this, but I'm pretty sure that she'll love you, regardless."

Susan took a deep, calming breath of her own before she answered. "I can't promise that we won't run," she said honestly. "But I CAN promise that I won't forget that you love me." She paused a moment and then added, "We never intended to hurt you. Either of you." Her lower lip quivered again to stifle another sob, but she still kept her eyes on me. "I don't want to lose your love, Daddy. PLEASE don't hate me!"

It took every ounce of self-control to not hold her, but I somehow managed. As much as I hated to see my daughter, whom I loved dearly, in pain or fear that I might withhold my love from her, she had made her choices- the kinds of choices an adult would make- and she would have to bear them out on her own. "I don't hate you, Kitten. I'll always, always love you," I said with measured tones. "Now... I need to know a few things."