Headlong

Everything seemed superficially normal, of course, as we went to pick up the kids, including not only Danielle and Stacey, but also Carl and Caitlyn, Amber's twins by David. We were all dressed up in our Sunday best again, acting as if the adults hadn't just engaged in an orgy and planned for another one when we had the next opportunity. The four little ones were quite eager for some junk food, but then so were us adults, albeit for somewhat different reasons. They were also excited about the arts and crafts projects that the Youth Club director and his team had taught them to do.

"Miss Connors even taught us some ceramics. She said that we'd work on more of that next Sunday afternoon, if that's okay with you, Dad," Danielle informed me proudly, while Stacey showed Lisa the finger-painting work that she had done.

"Such a Daddy's girl, but I love that about her ... and about Stacey. They're complete Daddy's girls. I don't mind at all. I just hope that my son, whenever he comes, is a Mama's boy," Lisa laughed a bit as she perused the menu.

"With a mother like you, he'll have to be surgically detached from your apron strings," I teased her a bit while deciding on the Molly's Meat and Malt.

This was a half-pound bacon cheeseburger with chop sauce, Pepper Jack cheese, onion rings, three strips of bacon, mushrooms, and sauerkraut on Texas Toast, served with yet more onion rings, a sour cream dip, a pickle, and a rather rich chocolate malt. Lisa chose the Glider Sliders, a collection of eight delightful sliders topped with Swiss cheese, grilled onions, and mustard, served with home fries and what seemed like a ton of ketchup, to be washed down with a raspberry milkshake.

"Carl is a total Mama's boy for sure, aren't you, baby?" Amber interjected, at which point the firstborn of the twins blew his mother a very sweet and innocent kiss, making her cry a little.

Once she was done with that, Amber selected the Blue Plate Cheese, a pastrami sandwich on sourdough with blue cheese, mustard, pickles, mushrooms, onions, and tomatoes. This came with waffle fries and ketchup, plus a root beer float. David opted for the Rowdy Reuben, a classic Reuben except served on pumpernickel bread instead of rye. He had home fries as well, but with some extra Russian dressing instead of ketchup. He chose a raspberry tea to wash that down. Missy and Michelle both went for hot dogs, but Missy grabbed the Polish Pride, which was two Polish sausages on two toasted buns, smothered with coleslaw, mustard, onions, relish, and sauerkraut. This came with nachos and cheese sauce instead of fries or onion rings. Michelle selected the Pizza Patron, which were two sweet Italian sausages, smothered in pizza sauce, peppers, olives, mushroom, onions, and mozzarella cheese, laid out open-faced on focaccia bread. This came with breadsticks and marinara sauce instead of the usual sides.

"So, is Caitlyn a Daddy's girl?" I grinned, but got my answer when Caitlyn peppered David's face with kisses, to which he replied by hugging her tight.

That was when I heard Danielle asking, "Why is Grandma holding Uncle Stewart's hand?"

We all looked up and sure enough, none other than Mrs. Annabelle Tucker, Lisa's mother ... my own mother-in-law, was in Molly Malts, holding hands with Stewart Kimble, Amber's father. There was little doubt as to the meaning of this, naturally. Whether or not there was complete physical intimacy, Stewart and Annabelle were having an affair. It was she who first turned her head and realized that they had been caught, giving us a "deer in the headlights look," of course. Stewart followed suit and became visibly pale, obviously worried about the repercussions should anyone report this.

They walked over to us, nervously, knowing that they were seen already and there was no point in trying to hide themselves now. Sitting at a table near our booth, Stewart kept wringing his hands, while Annabelle burst into tears and put her face in hers. Surprisingly, Amber made the first move, touching her father's hand and putting it to her lips. Then she cried a bit on his shoulder and held him tight before resuming her old seat. The children were all a bit confused by this, but we tried to make it clear that this was just some bad news that we found out and that it would hurt everyone, so they should try not to judge. We hugged them close for a bit and then I gave them game tokens so that the adults could speak freely. By now, Lisa, David, and Michelle also embraced their mother, who was still very crushed at being seen this way.

"I know that this ... this is wrong. I know that. I'm sorry, honey. I wish that I were stronger. It's just that ... that I'm not in love with your mother anymore and I haven't been for a while now. It hurts me to say this, but I love her ... I'm just not in love with her anymore, and I want a divorce. That was what Annabelle and I have been discussing lately, including tonight. Annabelle, this is a horrible time and place to ask, but before I further upset folks, will you marry me? Will you leave Pastor Tucker for me?" Stewart proposed in front of us, risking our denunciation.

"Yes ... I will. Sorry, Lisa, Michelle, and David. Very sorry. I just don't love your father the same way anymore. I love Stewart instead. We never meant for this to happen, but a few projects and we found ourselves really clicking together, and the next thing that we knew ... well, I might as well come out and say it ... I'm pregnant, and it's not your father's," Annabelle explained, wiping her eyes as she confessed her adultery with Amber's father.

Now, Mrs. Tucker was almost fifty, old enough that we wondered if she had started menopause, but apparently that was not the case yet. She was 49, in fact, the same exact age as Stewart, who was some years older than Amber's mother, Debbie. If she was carrying Stewart's baby, then all hope of reconciliation was lost. Lance Tucker wasn't the forgiving man that he wanted me to be with his daughter, that was for sure. An orphan, he had come to prize marriage and family very much, a very traditional notion of both, in fact, and this was a knife to the heart for a man like him. He was the sort who might go nuclear, except that he was too much the gentleman to hurt a pregnant woman, even one who had cuckolded and thus humiliated him. He certainly wouldn't keep her as his wife, whatever she wanted.

"I am truly sorry. Both of us are. But what now? We have to make the most of it, I fear. This is the end of our two marriages and we're not going to hurt each other on top of hurting our spouses," Stewart reasoned through his tears.

"I know, Dad. I understand, and trust me, I grasp how people can be drawn to someone forbidden. I can forgive you. Not for the pain in Mom's heart. That only Mom can forgive. But for the act itself. If you knew the truth of my marriage to David, you'd know that not all families and marriages are normal or alike. I still love you guys, both of you, so let's all try to work this out, in spite of the pain. Now, let's all wipe our tears away, so the kids don't get any crazy ideas," Amber reassured her father.

"Mom, it's gonna hurt Dad. I won't lie about that, but right now, you owe him the truth. I won't claim to be a saint or anything. I've hurt Dan plenty, recently in fact, but he has forgiven me, albeit on rather unorthodox terms. That makes me the best person to give it to you straight. I can comprehend what it must be for you, knowing yourself guilty of what you did. Now, best to wipe your eyes, too, and remember that, whatever you and Dad do, I still love both of you," Lisa convinced her mother while David and Michelle nodded.

"Yeah, I've goofed up a bit, but Amber has been more than loving and forgiving, even accepting, with me. I just hope that Dad is as good to you as she has been to me, even if not in quite the same way," David spoke his piece as well.

With that, the kids returned and the food arrived with it, served by one Molly Finnegan herself. Some of the patrons might have been shocked, but Molly was actually my aunt, and yes, Deanna's mother. It was no real shock to me when Aunt Molly hugged me very hard, too, reminding me of the hugs that I got from her whenever I "ran away from home" (which never lasted more than a good meal at Molly's home or shop, for which I paid by doing dishes or helping with the garden, that sort of thing). Aunt Molly had been a critical escape valve for a guy who was tired of his parents constantly at each other's throats. There was just a family thing for me. Aunt Molly was just a very sweet, mature woman, her natural Irish beauty lessened a little by too many cigarettes and too little sleep over the years, too much work for sure. That wasn't counting the times that she babysat me when I was young, virtually for free. It was kind of hard to think sexually of someone who had helped raise one in the past.

"How's my favorite nephew?" Aunt Molly asked me with a kiss to my forehead for me and one on the cheek for each of my daughters.

"Oh, I'm doing well. How about you, Aunt Molly?" I asked her, at which point her eyes moisten and she turned her head away to sob a bit.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I hugged her again.

"They ... found ... a spot on my lung. A very large one. It's cancerous. Stage IV. Terminal. Too late to save me. I can either live another four months without chemo or radiation, or another eight months with it, and I wouldn't call that living myself. So, no chemo or radiation for me. I'm going out like I wish, running my malt shop, but spending a lot more time with family. They told me to quit smoking, of course, but at this point, what's the purpose? I already killed myself for this damn habit. Might as well enjoy it. Cigarettes keep me sweet to people, trust me," Aunt Molly sighed as she gestured for us to eat.

"Very sorry, Aunt Molly. That must be really hard on Deanna especially, not to mention Curtis," I alluded to her boyfriend, Curtis Howard, who had virtually been Deanna's stepfather over the years, though they had never married.

"It's on the house, all of it, my sweet boy. Don't let my cancer ruin your appetites. You know that your money's no good here, Danny Boy. I love how you always could put the food away. At times, I joked that you had a hollow leg, because back then, you could never put on weight if you tried," Aunt Molly urged me, "And, yes, it's very tough on them."

"Yeah, back then, I wasn't the poster child for robust health, to be sure. Always scrawny for one of my height and build. Too much bronchitis or pneumonia back then," I observed, "Now I pack on the pounds, of course."

"Not too badly. Believe me. I see some folks who look like they ate their whole families," Aunt Molly chuckled with her somewhat raspy voice as she lit up a cigarette, "You know, I still don't see how Deanna never puts on the weight, but it's just nature or luck, I guess. Couldn't be her diet. That girl inhales my food. Anyway, got to run. More diners to feed. Let me know if you need something, Danny."

"I will, Aunt Molly, and again, very sorry about, well, you know. Girls, give your great-aunt a hug and kiss," I told my daughters, which they did gladly.

Back to the meal, of course, Stewart and Annabelle finally found their appetites and ordered something, though theirs wasn't gratis, of course. Stewart had the Ye Olde Fish and Chips Basket, which was the old English pub classic, of course, which he washed down with plenty of ginger ale. Amber's father always loved ginger ale for some reason. Annabelle stuck to a classic, or Molly's version of it, the White Cheese Grilled Deluxe, a double decker grilled cheese sandwich that used a combination of Swiss, Havarti, and Provolone cheeses, with Parmesan sprinkled all over the bread and what seemed a ton of real butter (Aunt Molly disliked using margarine in her recipes), plus two slices of tomato, and fried zucchini for the side. She drank a tall glass of Southern-style sweet tea with it, too.

We didn't rush through our meals, of course. I hugged my mother-in-law, in spite of all of that. I even shook hands with Stewart, who had to be dreading the need to tell his wife, Amber's mother, my old schoolteacher, Debbie Kimble, about the whole thing. That was likely to be punishment enough for being human and falling in love with another man's wife ... and out of love with his own.

My own parents had never quite fallen out of love, but their love was bitter, painful, and very stormy, to say the least. They had a long, but rocky marriage, before Dad went driving home one night from a bar and turned a corner straight into a big rig. Yeah, if there was a winner to that head-on collision, it was the Teamster, in that he was still alive. I didn't blame the guy, since Dad was the one who drove straight into him while three sheets to the wind. He was just a man trying to make a living and didn't have time to swerve. Yeah, toward the end, Dad had really taken to the sauce a bit more than in the past.

Mom had been inconsolable, of course. Suddenly, the man who could do no right became the saint who could do no wrong. She never spoke ill of him again. I personally think that she blamed herself for his death somehow, but it was really no one's fault but his own. Mom made three or four suicide attempts, all the while developing a dangerous and soul-destroying pharmaceutical habit, between the Valium, Vicodin, and God knew what else. She lost her job and ended up living with Aunt Molly after the bank foreclosed, until four years ago, when they found her on her belly on the front porch, dead and cold from an overdose despite Aunt Molly's many attempts to get her help. The coroner ruled it an accidental overdose, and I wasn't about to argue with them, since Aunt Molly had taken over the insurance policy on her, keeping up the payments over the years. A suicide ruling would have made life much harder on the living, after all.

"Thinking about your folks again?" Lisa asked me in a warm, if seductive voice tailor-made to lighten my mood, while Michelle and Missy sneaked in chances to caress my thighs, and Amber played footsie with me.

"Yep. Okay, dessert anyone?" I asked the others, but Stewart and Annabelle had to scramble and make their confessions, which wouldn't be easy on either of them or their spouses.

"Should I warn Mom?" Amber asked us.

"No, dear. Give her a few more minutes of happiness before the hammer comes down," I advised her, to which David added, "Yeah, I agree. I don't want Dad to deal with this any sooner than he must."

"Well, to home we go ... after dessert. We owe the kids an ice cream soda or root beer float, that's part of the experience. They'll only be kids for another decade or so, after all," I smiled, to Michelle reacted by whispering in my ear, "Another reason why I'm glad that I'm carrying your love child. I know that you'll be a great Dad."

The rest of the evening was largely spent in the family room at my house, where Lisa, Michelle, Missy, me, Amber, David, and the kids all watched Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone together. It was good clean fun to a large extent for the moment, but no sooner than we all got to take turns using the head and refilling the popcorn and drinks, the phone rang. It was for Lisa, as it turned, and it was her father.

"Daddy? What is it?" Lisa asked her, bracing herself for what she knew was coming, of course.

"Oh, very sorry, Dad. Do you need anything? Wow ... I can only imagine how much that hurts. Yeah, I know, if Dan did that to me, I'd deserve it, but it will kill me. Ouch ... Mr. Kimble, huh? Amber's father. How must her mother feel, too? This has to be devastating to her, too. Oh, Daddy, I wish that there was something that I could tell you. You've always been there for me when I've had my heart broken. You always knew what to say to me ... but now, what do I tell you? What can I tell you that would make it feel any better? Very sorry that Mom hurt you like this, Daddy. Who's with you? Sarah? Mary Beth? That's good at least. Whenever you need me, if you do, you know that I'll be there for you, Daddy," Lisa assured her father while I stroked her hair and Michelle's.

"Oh, okay, Daddy. Well, just call whenever you need me. Hugs and kisses. Very sorry, Dad. I love you, too. Good night and give our love to Sarah and Mary Beth, too," Lisa said as she hung up.

We did our best to keep our attention on the next film, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, but the next phone call took a good while, though Amber and David took it into my den. When they returned, it was clear that the caller had long since hung up, and that the couple had been up to something else in my study. Amber was in a much better mood, and evidently, she had taken well to her husband's idea of "solace." I made a note to myself that sex tended to cheer her up, or at least when it was with someone whom she loved. It made sense, but I had learned that for some ladies, bad news had the opposite effect.

"Yeah, it was Mom ... and she cried for a bit. David held me the whole time, and then when she hung up, I kissed him hard on the mouth. The rest was ... history," Amber whispered to me out of earshot of certain people in the family room.

That was when Lisa excused herself and me for an "intermission of sorts," to take place in the shower, though we didn't stop the film, having seen it before. I knew full well what sort of "intermission" she had in mind, and sure enough, my wife got me naked and balls deep inside her the moment the water rinsed off the body wash. My mouth closed in on hers repeatedly as we kissed, both of us reveling in the knowledge that we had done quite a bit of wild, nasty sex for the day and it was time for some good, traditional marital intercourse. From the devious grin on Lisa's face, she was also thinking of the fact that David had more than a chance of knocking her up, just as I did. The thought of her breeding with both of us ... and of Amber doing the same, was just too deliciously taboo to ignore. It was the victory of Nature over social conventions limiting reproduction, after all.

"Oh, God, I can't wait until I see you fuck Michelle again and maybe I'll get to suck your cock straight from her pussy! Not to mention Missy's ... or Deanna's ... and Amber's," Lisa reminded me as I continued to take her nice and hard in the shower.

"You really get off on me doing that, don't you?" I grinned as we fucked some more, my hands gladly roaming her deliciously pale and plump booty.

"Yeah, and the idea of you with Jenna ... or Mary ... or Amy ... or Sarah ... or Mary Beth," Lisa moaned as I took her rougher now, bent over at the waist in the shower, "Or David ... or Jonathan!"

"You know, your father needs a new woman, sooner or later. He's not going to make it as a divorced guy. He likes being domesticated, couldn't hack the single or bachelor life. He's even a one-woman man, I think. Those do exist. I'm just not one of them myself," I thought as I continued to pleasure her, toying with her clit while I rammed her deeper from behind.

"Would that turn you on, to play matchmaker for my father?" Lisa laughed, purring as I kept manipulating her.

"Not per se, but it leads to the idea of fucking Amber's mom. I like that notion more and more. Even so, I'm not sure if she would be truly up to it, long-term. She might be as naturally monogamous as your Dad. However, there is one girl in that collection whose appeal to me is marginal at best. In theory, it sounds good, but she's such a prude about things like Angel's lesbianism and such. Amy. Sorry, but just not feeling the love there, if you get my drift," I observed while enjoying Lisa's body.

"Are you thinking of setting my father up with Amy? Substituting Debbie for her? I don't know why, but that would be so fucking hot, baby! Amy isn't perfect, but her flaws are ones that Daddy won't mind. Better yet, you banging Debbie Kimble would sizzle like fajitas, honey. Just thinking of you plowing Amber AND her mother ... who wouldn't think that delightful? Not to mention that David would get a piece of his mother-in-law's ass at last, and you know that he's wanted that, too. Oh, fuck, honey, please set that up for us!" Lisa came while I covered her mouth and expended my own load into her sweet pussy.