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   My Brother, My Son

   Another Story by Gil Gamesh   Chapter Two

   I was in the living room watching a movie on TV.  It was about a bunch
of sailors who take an old battleship and kick the living shit out of a
bunch of aliens before they can take over the earth.  I've probably seen it
a dozen times but I still enjoy it, especially when the walrus alien gets
his teeth knocked out by the guy with the artificial legs.  I was wearing
just a pair of exercise shorts and some white socks, my usual in-house
uniform when I didn't expect to be around anybody except my parents.  I
heard a car door slam and it sounded like it was directly in front of our
quarters.  Mom was gone to the commissary and she wasn't going to be back
for another hour or so.  Anyway, she would park her car on the carport when
she came back.  I got up and peeked out the blinds to see who it was.  It
was Dad!  It wasn't Friday.  It was Wednesday.  He was home two days early.
Maybe I was scared he was going to kill me but I couldn't help myself.  I
slammed out the front door, ran down to the sidewalk in about four leaps,
threw myself at him, and almost knocked him down.  I put my arms around
him, tucked my head in the side of his throat, and squeezed him as hard as
I could.  I couldn't say anything and I felt like crying because I was so
happy to see him.  "Whoa, Tiger, are you glad to see me?" he asked.  I
almost choked just from hearing his voice.  I managed to squeak out a
"Yeah!" He had on his dress blues with his coat over one arm and that meant
he had been somewhere important like some sort of ceremony.  He handed his
coat to the corporal who had brought him home, wrapped both arms around me,
and sort of rocked from side to side with me like he does sometimes.  I
could smell his sweat and it was something I'd smelled all my life and it
was just him and I loved him.  After a while, he gently pushed me back and
smiled down at me.  "Come on, Tiger, let's help the corporal carry my
luggage in the house.  I'm hot and sweaty and I could use a cold beer. 
Would you like one?" That was strange.  He had let me taste beer lots of
times in the past but he had never offered me one.  He saw the look on my
face.  "What?" he said, just like I do sometimes.  "You're almost a man,
Ryan.  You can have a beer with your dad now.  Just don't make a habit of
it." Didn't he know what I had done?  A few days ago I had heard Mom
talking to him in her room.  She didn't let me talk to him so I assumed she
was telling him.  He didn't act like he was going to kill me.  I helped the
corporal carry his luggage into the house and on into Mom's and Dad's
bedroom.  Dad thanked the corporal, said something to him, and he left.  As
soon as he was gone, Dad started undressing.  He sat down on the side of
the bed, took off his shoes and socks, lifted his butt long enough to pull
off his pants, and sat there for a minute breathing deeply in just his
skivvies and white dress shirt.  He threw his pants at me and I knew he
wanted me to take his uniform to the base cleaners tomorrow.  I hung his
pants on a hanger, put his coat over them, and hung them behind the door.
"Damn, it's good to be home," he said.  "Did you miss me?" "Yeah, Mom and I
both missed you.  Are you really going to be home for the next year or so?"
"Yep, I'm done with, well, you know, for a while," he said.  "I've got desk
duty here for at least a year." I didn't know but I knew I wasn't supposed
to know.  Sometimes he went somewhere and even Mom didn't know where.  He
stood up, stripped off his shirt, stepped out of his skivvies, and then
stood there naked, just breathing deeply.  He was just as lean and hard as
ever and he looked damn good for a guy in his thirties.  I always hoped my
body was going to be like his.  He reached down to his genitals, sort of
pulled his balls down, scratched behind them, pulled down on his dick, and
took a deep breath and let it out.  His dick was soft and it looked big and
swollen like it always does in hot weather.  His foreskin covered almost
the whole head and there was just a little circle left uncovered.  It
looked just like mine except mine is a little smaller.  "Would you get me a
pair of shorts?" he asked.  "And some white socks?" I knew what he wanted.
Both of us lounged around the house in cotton exercise shorts and white
socks, usually bare-chested, sometimes with a T-shirt, when nobody was
around.  I went to his chest of drawer, got his socks out of the top drawer
and his shorts out of the bottom.  I always helped Mom put away when she
did the laundry and I knew where his stuff was.  He stepped in the shorts,
sat down on the bed long enough to put on his socks, and then stood up.  He
put his hand on my shoulder, we went in the kitchen, and he sat down at the
table "Get me a beer," he said.  "Get you one too." I got two bottles of
beer out of the fridge, the kind he likes, opened them and put them on the
table.  I knew I had to tell him.  "Dad, Mom's pregnant." He took a big
swig of his beer, looked at me with a serious look on his face, picked up
the other bottle of beer, and handed it to me.  I drank a little and
waited. He breathed deeply a couple of times and grinned.  "Yeah, I know,"
he said.  "We're both tickled pink.  We thought we'd never have another
kid. I got her pregnant that weekend I made a quick trip home and stayed
just one night.  That was the weekend you were gone camping with your
buddies.  Sorry I missed you." He was looking at me with an intensity that
told me a lot.  He already knew I had got her pregnant but he wanted to
claim that the baby was his and I was supposed to accept his version of how
it happened, even though I knew I hadn't gone camping since last summer and
he had never made a quick trip home during his three-month absence.  I sat
down in a chair and looked at him without saying anything, just slowly
drinking my beer.  I burped.  He grinned and burped louder.  "That's the
way it happened, Ryan," he said.  "You're not going to kill me?" I asked.
"Why should I kill you, Tiger?" he asked.  "I love you and I'm glad you're
my son." I took another sip of beer and sat there staring at him.  He
stared back, sipped the last of his beer, and then winked at me and smiled.
I managed to smile too, just a little one.  "On the way here, I called
Sarah on her cell phone," he said.  "She's going to get us a big pizza for
supper, the kind you like.  Are you hungry?" "You're not mad at me?" I
asked.  Lately I was always hungry.  "I'm not mad at you, son," he said. 
"I want to thank you.  Tonight Sarah and I'll talk to you and you'll
understand.  Just relax.  Shit, get me another fucking beer.  You want
another?" I got up and got him another beer.  I didn't get me one though.
I'd never been drunk and I was afraid another beer would get to me.  I sat
his beer in front of him and was about to sit down.  He stood up, grabbed
me by the shoulders, and pulled me against him.  I put my arms around his
waist and he put his around my back with one hand behind my head, holding
me with my face sort of buried in him.  "I love you, Ryan," he whispered.
"After Sarah, you're the best thing that ever happened to me.  I love you
and I'm proud you're my son.  It makes me feel good to see the sort of man
you're turning into.  Don't you ever forget what I'm saying.  You're
precious to me." "I won't, Dad," I whispered.  "I'm glad you're my father."
He turned me loose, slapped me on the butt, picked up the second bottle of
beer, took a big swig, and handed it to me.  "Here, put this back in the
fridge for now," he said.  "I stink.  I want to take a bath before Sarah
gets home.  Come bathe with me.  I've missed having you to shower with me
and scrub my back." Our quarters were just like all the others for officers
with only one kid: two bedrooms, one bath, kitchen/dining room, and a big
living room.  The bathroom had one commode, two sinks, and a big shower.  I
was used to sharing it with my parents.  I'd never seen Mom naked but I had
seen her breasts more than once, like when she was at one sink and I was at
the other.  She always just smiled at me and didn't try to cover up.  She
always had on panties though.  I'd never been in there when was using the
commode or in the shower.  I'd seen Dad naked all of my life.  I wasn't
bashful and I was used to pissing or showering when he was shaving.  I
didn't shave but we didn't hesitate to piss when the other was in the
shower.  We all knew not to flush when somebody was in the shower.  This
time I lifted the commode seat and assumed the position and was just about
to start when Dad pushed me over and held his dick ready.  I looked at him,
he smiled at me, and then we both started pissing.  It was nothing new to
me.  We'd done it before, lots of times.  In the shower, we alternated
standing under the water and then soaped up two washcloths and scrubbed. 
When he turned around with his hands on the wall and his back to me, I knew
what he wanted.  I'd done it as long as I could remember.  I scrubbed his
back the way he wanted it, hard, and was about to turn around and let him
do mine.  Then the shower door slid back and Mom stepped in, naked.  Mom
and Dad grabbed each other like I wasn't even there.  They wrapped their
arms around each other and almost melted into one another and shut their
eyes and got a lip lock on each other's mouths, all without a word.  It
seemed like they couldn't stop kissing.  They'd stop for a second, take a
few deep breaths, and then go back at it.  Mom's hands were on Dad's butt
cheeks and I could see the dents her fingers made because she was pulling
him against her.  Dad's were on her butt cheeks, on her breasts, holding
her face, just all over her.  I moved under the shower spray and watched
them.  When my dick raised its head, I wrapped my hand around it and
stroked it real slow.  After a few minutes, they stopped and both looked at
me, first at my face and then down at what I was doing with my dick.  Dad
smiled, pushed back away from Mom a little, and his dick rose up at about a
forty-five degree angle like mine.  They both held out an arm to me and I
moved closer until my body was touching both of theirs.  I put one arm
around Dad's back and the other around Mom's.  They both put one arm around
me and we stood there smiling at each other for a minute.  I didn't know
what they wanted me to do and I didn't know what I ought to do.  Finally
Mom told us what to do.  She reached down, took my dick in one hand, took
Dad's in her other, and said: "You guys need to stuff these back in your
shorts for a while.  I want somebody to carry in the groceries." <><><> We
were sitting at the kitchen table eating our dessert, an apple pie with ice
cream.  The pizza was great as always and so was the pie.  Dad had his
second beer with his pizza.  Mom had a glass of milk and I thought that was
strange because she usually had a beer too.  I had a soft drink.  I still
felt a buzz from the first beer and I thought I had better stay clear
headed.  "Well, it's time we talked," Dad said.  "I've got some things to
say to you, Ryan, and they're important.  I want you to listen carefully."
"Yes, sir," I answered.  "Tiger, don't say `yes, sir' to me," he said,
sounding exasperated.  "Say `yes, Dad.' I hear yes sir all day long. 
You're the only person in the world who can say `yes, Dad' to me and I wish
you could know how much I've missed hearing it." "Yes, s..I mean, yes, Dad"
"OK.  That's better.  Now, here's what the three of us know.  Sarah is
pregnant.  The home pregnancy test she used is just about infallible.  We
all know you are the one who made her pregnant, Ryan.  The child is a union
of your sperm and her egg.  Are we all in agreement on that?" "Yes, Dad," I
answered.  "Yes, Connor," Mom answered, smiling at me.  "OK.  Now, here's
the way it's going to be.  I'm the child's father.  I got Sarah pregnant
one Saturday when I came home for two days just passing through.  We were
both surprised as hell because we thought we'd never have another child. 
We're both wonderfully happy to be having another child.  Got that?" "Yes,
Dad." "Yes, Connor." "OK.  Ryan, the child is going to be your brother or
your sister.  Whichever it is, you're going to love it like a brother or
sister, not like a father.  You will never let the child know you're its
real father.  Do you understand why?" "I think so." "OK.  Tell me why?"
"Because boys don't usually have sex with their mothers.  They don't
usually get them pregnant.  Everybody will think...well, they'll think
we're some kind of sex perverts or something.  Then they'll maybe not like
the baby because of it.  It's not the child's fault, Dad; it's mine."
"Ryan, don't you ever say that again." "Yes, sir, I mean, yes, Dad, but
when are you and Mom going to tell me why you let it happen.  Did you
intend for it to happen?  Why?" "I'll tell you in just a minute but first I
want you to promise you'll never tell the child that you're its father. 
OK. Man to man, now." "OK, Dad, I promise, man to man, that I'll never tell
the baby that I'm its father.  "Good.  Don't ever break your word to me,
son.  Now, do you know the meaning of the words impotent and infertile?" "I
think so." "Ryan, I'm not impotent.  Hell, I'm damned potent.  My balls
produce testosterone like a fifteen-year-old kid.  I may be thirty-four but
I'm probably as horny as you are.  I almost wore my right arm out while I
was gone," he said, grinning at me.  I grinned back.  "I am infertile,
though," he said, with a serious face.  I waited.  "Can I start over and
back up some before I tell you why?" he asked.  "Sure, Dad," I said.  "I
was nineteen years old and a second-year cadet at the Academy when I met
your mother.  I was home on a two week leave I'd earned by having the best
grade point average of any second year guy.  On my second night home, my
sister set me up for a blind date with a seventeen-year-old high school
senior.  The date was for her graduation prom.  She was the most beautiful
girl I'd ever seen, tall, slim, long legs, good boobs, good butt, smiled
like an angel, laugh that...well, that's enough.  That's her sitting beside
us." I looked at Mom.  She was smiling, maybe like an angel.  "I wish you
could have seen him that night, Ryan," she said.  "He had permission to
wear his spring parade dress uniform: grey swallow-tail coat, 21 gold
buttons, white trousers.  They thought he'd make a good poster boy for the
Army.  He was a young girl's dream: tall, slim, handsome, sexy as hell.  I
knew I wanted to marry him the minute I saw him.  Love at first sight. 
Well, maybe lust.  When we were dancing, girls kept trying to cut in and he
wouldn't let them.  He kissed me for the first time when he took me home
and I think that one kiss lasted for about five minutes.  It was really
some kiss.  About two weeks later when he left to go back I was pregnant
but I didn't know it until a week or so after that." She looked at Dad and
smiled.  He was smiling too.  "We had a date the next night," Mom said. 
"We had hamburgers and milk shakes and spent the rest of that date just
holding hands and walking and talking.  The next night he went to my
graduation ceremony, wearing his dress uniform again, sat between my mother
and father, and told them he was going to marry me.  He didn't take me home
that night.  We checked into a motel.  He fucked me three times.  We were
both virgins." "I didn't fuck you," Dad said.  "I made love to you.  And
you came more times than I did.  Ryan, she was ringing up orgasms about two
to my one." "The next day, he made love to me seven times.  There was a
hamburger joint next door to the motel and we went over there just long
enough to get take out.  We would hardly get back in the motel before we
were fucking again.  We were both hot as hell.  Sore too." "Seven times?" I
asked.  "Well, one of those was a blow-job," Dad said.  "I couldn't believe
it when she swallowed it.  She said it just got the taste of hamburgers
with onions out of her mouth.  And she was still ringing up orgasms like
crazy." "The next day, we did it twice before check out," Mom said.  "He
took me home, told my parents that we were going to stay in my bedroom, and
they could start planning for a wedding.  I had a queen-size bed and we
broke it down that night.  My father and Connor tried to fix it and finally
just put the mattress and box springs on the floor.  I wish you could have
seen Connor in his skivvies and my father in his pajama bottoms trying to
fix my bed.  My two younger brothers were right there, just wearing their
jockey shorts and they thought it was the funniest thing they'd ever seen."
"It was funny," Dad said.  "I think your dad and both your brothers had
hard-ons and your mother couldn't decide which one of us four guys she
wanted to look at next." "Poor Mom," Mom said.  "The next morning at
breakfast, she asked me and Connor if we knew what we were doing.  Connor
didn't answer her.  He stood up, pulled me up, gave me about a minute-long
kiss, open mouth and tongue, hands groping me.  Then he sat down and said,"
No." I looked at Mom and her eyes were like saucers and her mouth was wide
open.  Dad thought that was funny." "Then we spent a couple of nights at my
parent's home, sleeping in my twin-size bed with room on both sides," Dad
picked up.  "Her parents told mine what we had done to her bed and we got
teased about it again.  My mother and sister laughed so hard they cried.  I
told my parents to start thinking about a wedding too." "I thought I'd die
when he had to go back," Mom said.  Then Dad again.  "I knew West Point
graduates weren't allowed to marry until after graduation.  I had a choice
and I made it.  I wanted her and I wanted to marry her.  At the time, I
didn't even know she was pregnant.  I didn't learn that until a few weeks
later.  I told my commanding officer I was going to get married and he said
I'd be expelled if I did.  I told them I'd become career Army if they would
let me stay.  They didn't want to expel me and tried to talk me out of
marrying her.  I was at the top of the second year cadets and already
marked to go into intelligence.  Somebody told me the solution.  It was
simple.  Just quietly marry her without telling anybody.  Marry her again
when I graduated.  That's what we did.  "So I'm not a bastard," I said,
grinning.  "I can show you two marriage certificates, Tiger" Dad said. 
"Our first marriage was in her parent's living room and was attended by
both families, all sworn to secrecy.  Our second was on the day after I
graduated." I looked at Mom.  "What did your parents say when you told them
you were pregnant with me?" "I didn't tell them.  Connor did.  I called
him, he called my parents, and told them to hurry up with the wedding
plans. He said his son was not going to be a bastard.  I thought my mother
was never going to stop crying.  My father, bless his heart, was calm and
said he'd do everything he could to help.  Our families got together and
all agreed to help us.  They did.  I alternated staying at my parents'
house and Connor's parents' house for the next two years.  Both sets of
grandparents loved you like crazy.  We didn't break down any more beds but
we gave them a good workout." "But I thought nobody could tell a baby's sex
that early." "That's right," Mom said.  "They can't." I looked at Dad. 
"Were you with Mom when I was born?" I asked.  "Only in spirit, Tiger," Dad
said.  "Both families were there and I mean everybody, even Sarah's two
little brothers.  That's what it means to be part of a family, Ryan. 
That's why your mother wanted to have more children, so we could be a
bigger family and all love each other like my family and hers loved us.  We
probably wouldn't be sitting here today without the love of both our
parents." I looked at Dad.  "Well, you were certainly fertile when I was
conceived.  What happened to change that?" "I'm getting there.  Two weeks
after I graduated, I was no longer in this country.  I was assigned to an
Army intelligence unit and I was sworn never to talk about what I did.  So
what I tell you can never be told to anyone else.  Swear?" I nodded.  Dad
shook his head.  "Say it." "I swear I'll never tell anybody else what
you're going to tell me." "Three other guys and I were radiated by a dirty
nuke weapon that a terrorist tried to smuggle onto an airplane going from
Riyadh to Paris and then to New York.  It never got on the plane.  All four
of us suffered radiation burns and I was rendered infertile.  Not impotent
now, just infertile.  My testicles produce sperm like a normal man.  If
they swim at all, it's just in circles.  "So what do we do now?" I asked.
"Well, tonight, I'm going to take Sarah to bed and make love to her.  I
probably won't be any good because I've been under a lot of stress and I'm
really tired and I haven't had much sleep in weeks.  Maybe she can be
satisfied if I can do it just once." I looked at Mom and she smiled and
nodded.  "I mean from now on," I said.  "Tomorrow night, Thursday night,
I'm going to show Sarah how much I love her.  Maybe I'll feel better by
then.  She's my other half, Ryan.  I could never be complete again without
her.  Friday night is your night.  She tells me you're learning to be a
good lover." "Uh, uh, Dad, you're home now." I said.  "You're the one who's
supposed to make love to her." "Tiger, we set this up deliberately.  We've
been trying to decide whether to do it for the last year or so.  We both
agreed it was the best way to have what both of us wanted.  You did us a
big favor.  Sarah and I don't think we should cut you off now.  We want you
to keep on doing it with her, well, at least on Friday nights." I looked at
Mom.  "You're pregnant, right?" "Yes, but that doesn't mean I can't have
sex, Ryan.  It can't hurt the baby.  Maybe when I'm closer to term, you and
Connor will have to be gentle with me.  I enjoyed sex with him until I was
about eight months pregnant with you and then the doctor said I should cut
him off." "You cut him off?" I joked.  "Looks like he's still got one."
They both laughed and so I did too.  Dad reached over and took my hand in
his.  Mom held out her hand and I put my other hand in it.  They both
looked serious now.  "Ryan, I want to have this baby," Mom said.  "I also
want more babies." I couldn't believe what I was hearing.  Did she mean
that she wanted me to get her pregnant again?  Me?  Babies?  More than one?
Did that mean she wanted me to get her pregnant again and again so she
could have two or three more babies after this one?  "That's right, Tiger,"
Dad said.  "Your mother is still a young woman.  She's just thirty two. 
She's got a lot of child-bearing years ahead of her.  We want you to fill
up those years with kids.  We want a big family." "Well, couldn't you just
get a sperm donor?" I asked.  "Don't some women do that when their husband
is infertile?" "Yes, Ryan," Mom said.  "But I don't want a baby with
somebody else's genes in it.  I want Connor's.  You're the only one who can
give me what I want." I looked at both of them and then squeezed their
hands.  "I'll do my best." <><><> The next morning, I was in the kitchen
standing at the stove in my in-house uniform frying myself a couple of eggs
when Mom walked in.  I liked egg sandwiches with cayenne pepper hot sauce
on them and a glass of cold milk to wash them down.  I looked at her.  She
had on white socks and a thin white robe.  I could see most of her breasts
and the outline of her panties under it.  I put some bread in the toaster
and poured myself a big glass of milk and then looked back at her.  She was
sitting in a chair and the white robe had come open.  I saw her beautiful
breasts and, when I looked down, I saw the shape of her pussy in her
panties, the little crease in the middle of her mound.  Instant hard-on.  I
turned my back to her so she couldn't see the tent in my shorts.  What was
I going to do?  I assembled my egg sandwich, sprinkled it with pepper
sauce, and picked up my glass of milk.  I knew I couldn't back up to the
table.  I finally decided I had to do it.  Fuck it.  I walked over to the
table, tented shorts and all, set my plate and glass down, and was about to
sit down.  Mom grabbed the waistband of my shorts and pulled me over in
front of her.  I didn't resist until she grabbed my shorts on each side,
pulled them down, and tried to break my dick off.  My foreskin had come
back when it got hard and it hurt to have my shorts dragged over the naked
head.  I said, "Ouch, Mom!" She wrapped her hand around my dick and stroked
it a couple of times.  "I'm sorry, Ryan," she said, smiling.  "Would you
like me to kiss it and make it better?" I couldn't say anything.  What if
Dad walked in?  I just stood there like a dummy.  She pulled and I shuffled
up a little closer.  My shorts fell down around my ankles.  "You've got a
beautiful penis, Ryan," Mom said.  "Would you mind if I got a little
protein from it for the baby?" I didn't know what to say but I wasn't about
to say no.  She stroked my dick a little more and then leaned over and
started sucking on the head.  I didn't know what to do.  What if Dad got up
and caught me with my dick in her mouth?  I shuffled a little closer and
just stood there with my hands at my sides.  She took her mouth off my dick
for a moment.  "Put your hands on my shoulders and keep them there, Ryan.
I've told you that before.  Be a gentleman." I shut my eyes, let my head
fall back, poked my pelvis out, and let her do what she wanted.  It was
what I wanted too.  One hand cupping my balls, sort of lifting my low
hangers, one moving up and down on the shaft of my dick, her tongue licking
under the head, her mouth sucking on the head: I was conscious of nothing
else.  It didn't take her long to get the baby a little protein.  I think
my dick was almost down her throat when I started coming.  I'd squirt,
she'd swallow, squirt, swallow, squirt, swallow; damn, it was too much. 
When I had squirted my last, she didn't take her mouth off my dick.  She
just pulled back so only the head was inside her mouth and sucked slowly
and gently.  "You're hurting me, Ryan," I heard her say, and looked down. I
had a hard grip on her shoulders.  I needed something to hang on to.  "Sit
down a minute," she said.  I tried but my shorts were tangled around my
ankles and I almost fell.  She put a foot on them and held them and I
stepped out of them.  I sat or maybe fell down in a chair in front of her,
my legs spread, my still-hard dick looking at the ceiling.  When I looked
at her face, she was looking at me and grinning.  "Did you like that?" I
shook my head.  "I liked it too." "Yeah, but..." I tried to think of what I
wanted to say.  "Why do you do it, I mean why do you like it?  What do you
get out of it?" "Ryan, sex is best when partners do things for each other,"
she said quietly.  "The first time I gave you a blow-job, did you really
want to lick my pussy?" "Yeah, I didn't think I would but I liked it. 
After I got started I really wanted to do it." "Do you understand?  I do
something for you that you like; you do something for me that I like.  That
makes for great sex." I sat there for a minute just looking up and down at
her.  The nipples on her breasts looked like they were a half-inch long. 
There was a wet spot in the center of her panties.  I knew sucking my dick
had made her hot.  "Would you do me an egg sandwich like yours, light on
the pepper sauce?  Pour me a big glass of milk.  I'm going to make a pot of
coffee even if it has to be weak from now on." I was hungry.  I picked up
my fried egg sandwich and my glass of milk, took them back to the stove,
and started eating while I fried her eggs.  If I got too much hot sauce in
my mouth, I just took a big swallow of milk and swished it around in my
mouth.  By the time I had assembled her fried egg sandwich, light on the
hot sauce, I had finished mine.  I took her sandwich to her and then made
me another one, heavy on the hot sauce.  I took both plates back to the
table and poured myself another glass of milk She ate her sandwich, sipped
her milk, sipped her coffee, and sat there smiling at me.  I ate my second
sandwich, gulped my milk, and managed to smile back.  We both finished
about the same time and just sat there looking at each other.  I wanted to
do something else for her and I decided not to ask her.  I dropped down,
knee-walked over to her, pushed her legs apart, reached around behind her,
and pulled her butt forward until her pussy was right at the edge of the
chair.  I tugged on her white panties.  "Lift your butt," I said, and she
did and I pulled her panties down her long legs.  I sat there leaned back
on feet and looked at her hairless pussy.  Down the slit, it looked wet and
glistening.  My dick rose up so it could see too.  I used my thumbs to pull
her pussy to each side so it sort of opened up, leaned forward, and ran my
tongue from the bottom to the top.  I felt the little lips separate and I
just kept licking all the pink flesh inside them.  I tasted something and
it wasn't egg sandwich.  I licked her again and again and again while she
moaned.  "Damn, something's burning me," she yelled suddenly.  I looked
around but didn't see anything.  "My pussy.  Do something." Shit!  I knew I
still had pepper sauce on my lips and tongue.  The milk jug was still
sitting on the table.  I grabbed it, took a big mouthful, leaned forward,
and fastened my mouth on her pussy.  The milk came out of me and got all
over her pussy and dripped down on the floor.  I got another mouthful,
tried this time to hold the milk in and to let it out gradually while I
licked her.  She was breathing like she had been out running.  I got
another mouthful and squirted it out right between her pussy lips and then
licked up it a couple of times.  Suddenly she started whimpering and I
looked up at her face.  Damn, she was coming.  I took another big swig of
milk, put my mouth back on her pussy, and spit some more milk there and
then licked it up.  I kept doing it.  She grabbed me by my hair and pulled
me against her pussy and kept moaning and whining.  "Damn, what have you
two done now?" I looked up and Dad was standing in the door, naked, big
dick swollen but not hard, low hangers halfway down to his knees.  I tried
to tell him but Mom kept interrupting.  Dad started grinning and then
laughing and then laughing so hard he couldn't stand up.  He staggered over
to the kitchen table, kissed me on the cheek, kissed Mom on the mouth, and
sat down.  I didn't think it was that damned funny.  "Would you fix me a
fried egg sandwich, Tiger?" he finally said.  Mom sat there, robe over her
shoulders, white socks on her feet, breasts and pussy exposed, and acting
like she thought it was hilarious too.  Dad sat there, completely naked,
big dick flopping around every time he had another laugh attack.  I started
to put my shorts back on and then decided why bother.  I fixed Dad a fried
egg sandwich with hot sauce and poured him a cup of coffee.  Then Mom made
me get the paper towels and wipe up all the spilled milk.  After that I
stood there leaned back against the kitchen sink with my dick pointing
straight up while they kept looking at me and laughing.  "Whew," Dad
finally said.  "I wish I could tell somebody about this." "Well, you
can't," Mom said.  "Don't you even think about it!" "Why did you use the
milk?" Dad asked.  "Cold milk's good when you get too much pepper sauce," I
said.  "I thought everybody knew that." We spent the rest of the day
lounging around the house almost naked, the three of us wearing just white
socks.  Every once in a while Mom or Dad would look at me, smile, start
sniggering, and then start laughing.  Mom had taken some vacation time so
she stayed home with us.  We watched an old movie that morning and then had
sandwiches for lunch, no hot sauce.  Afterwards, Dad wanted to take a nap.
Later that afternoon, we took a shower, all three of us in there at once,
and then got dressed and went to the officers' club for dinner.  We were
sitting at a table waiting for our dinner when an older guy, dressed in
civilians like Dad, came over to our table.  Dad stood up and I guessed he
might be Dad's commanding officer.  I stood up too until Dad introduced me
and Mom and then I sat back down.  They talked for a while and then Dad did
it again.  "Let me show you something," he said, and I knew what he was
going to ask me.  "What's the circumference of this table, Ryan?" I stood
up again, eyeballed the table, and then quickly gave him the answer. 
"About twelve and a half feet," I answered.  "Come on, precisely," Dad
said. "12.56636 feet," I said.  The guy looked at Dad and then at me.  "How
do you do that?" I looked at Dad.  He was smiling.  "Well, I cheated a
little," I said.  "I already knew the diameter was exactly four feet so I
just multiplied that times the value of pi at five decimal places.  "Damn,"
the guy said.  "How many decimal places do you know now?" Dad asked.  "One
hundred," I said, honestly.  "Could you have multiplied the diameter times
pi to one hundred decimal places?" the guy asked.  "No sir, usually five
decimal places is more than adequate.  I don't clutter up my memory with
stuff that's never needed." The guy shook his head, slapped Dad on the
shoulder, and went back to his table.  When we got back home, Mom and Dad
went in their bedroom and shut the door.  I went in my bedroom and shut the
door.  I could still hear them when they were doing it.  I jacked off once
and then did it another time before they got quiet.  After that, I went to
bed thinking about what I was supposed to do or maybe ought to do the next
day.  TO BE CONTINUED: