Chapter Two: Making Adjustments

We fucked all day long and well into the night that first weekend, my daughters and I. We hardly let ourselves rest between bouts of incestuous sex and we only ate when our bellies began to growl. In fact, we overdid it.

By Sunday evening, we were all three exhausted and really didn't want to try even one more new thing before getting some rest. By mutual consent, we gathered in the kitchen and worked together to prepare a big pot of homemade chili. When it was ready, we all sat around the kitchen table with the chili and a loaf of fresh French bread and ate until we couldn't eat any more.

"Daddy?" remarked Mandy, breaking a companionable silence that broke out while we were individually trying to decide if we wanted to top off the meal with a slab of pie WITH ice cream on top, or not. She pointed a fork at me to make sure she got my attention.

"Mmmmmmm?" I answered.

"Ya know...there's a lotta things that we gotta change around here now, " she remarked.

I stared at her, not really comprehending her meaning, but I was afraid I had a clue. I was scared shitless that my daughters might object to their father/lover making them do things they didn't want to do...homework, for instance. The dread of that happening had entered my mind before we started this new life...but I'd let the adult, responsible thought fade away in the heat of sexual exploration. I hoped my face wasn't echoing my thoughts.

"Oh?" I finally responded. My throat was tight. "Is that right?"

"Yeah, " she said, waving the crust around like a conductor's baton. "We gotta have get a new bed for when we sleep together, ya know? If we don't get a bigger bed, you're gonna have to go to work with bruises all over you from where Lorrie kicks you...'cause I'M not sleeping next to her." I smiled while Lorrie stuck her tongue out at her older sister.

Lorrie was a restless sleeper. Her arms waved, her legs flexed in running motions, and occasionally she would throw herself around in a wrestling match with the sheets and covers. Anyone sleeping with her inevitably wound up getting pounded unless one moved as far from her as possible. So far this weekend, Mandy and I had occupied about a third of the bed, cuddling as close as possible while Lorrie went through her sleeping contortions throughout the night.

A super king-sized bed made a lot of sense. One the size of an aircraft carrier's deck made even more.

"Well, you've got a point there, " I said. "Tell you what, tomorrow afternoon, when y'all get home from school, we'll go shopping for one, how's that?"

"YEAAAAAAAAAAA!" my daughters chorused. Shopping, no matter what the object of the search, was a way of life for them.

"Okay..., " I said. "What else?" Mandy looked at me pensively for a moment before glancing at her sister as if asking for her support.

"Do we have to use our bathroom still?" she asked tentatively. "Can we use the big one?" I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't see why not." A thought occurred to me. "Well, wait a minute...hmmmmmmm."

Both girls' faces developed little frowns and I'm sure I had one on my face to match theirs. "Look, girls, we have to make sure no one ever finds out about us. If someone does, I'll be spending the rest of my life in slammer calling bubba 'honey'. You know that, right?" The looks changed to ones of concern.

"Daddy, we'll never tell anyone, " said Lorrie, almost in tears. "Not ever!" I reached out to pat her arm but she suddenly quit her chair and was in my lap and had her arms wrapped around my neck.

"Oh, I know, honey, " I reassured her, "but we have to be careful about letting it slip by accident too. What I was thinking was that if you girls move all your makeup, your curling irons, toothbrushes, and everything you have in your bathroom into the master bathroom, sooner or later someone is going to figure things out. See what I mean?" They nodded.

"We could move everything back when someone comes over, " offered Mandy hesitantly.

"And what about if you're outside in the yard with the neighborhood people and someone wants to use the bathroom--and they don't use the half-bath down in the entryway?" I asked. "They'd see you didn't have all your 'stuff' in your bathroom, right?" They didn't have an answer. "And what if your friend Brandi or someone comes home from school with you and we hadn't planned on it, and you couldn't let me know in advance for some reason?" I continued. That hit home. It had happened a time or two in the last few months. Their faces fell.

"How about this?" I began. "How about you keep stuff like that in your old bathroom all the time. We don't try moving things back and forth, but you do everything else in the big bathroom...like showering, fucking Daddy in the shower...and doing nasty, wonderful, naughty things with Daddy in the shower and...having fun in the shower and...."

Their faces brightened considerably. They giggled. They knew how I felt about my shower and having fun in it. We already had, and would again.

I LIKED my shower...the one in the master bedroom. For one thing, it's as BIG as most master bedrooms, all by itself--big enough to have a fair sized party inside. There are multiple shower heads on all four walls...all controlled from a touchpad...and showerers (if that's a word) can relax on a stair-stepped construction against the short wall built of the finest marble. One could sit on the lowest step as comfortably which put one sitting at the level of a chair and lean back against the next step, or one could climb higher on the five steps, just to see what it was like.

My shower doubled as a steamroom too. It was all built to my specifications, I might add. It was something I'd wanted all my life and I'd had the bath renovated when we moved in to add a number of special features to the home. The spacious shower/steam room was one of them, along with a hot water heating unit that could have powered a steam locomotive. We could have spent all night in the shower letting the hot water pour over us and the water would never have gone cold.

But first things first. Another idea had occurred to me.

"Same thing goes for your clothes, you know. They'll have to stay in your old bedroom and you'll change in there, and throw things in the floor and listen to strange, incomprehensible noises on your DVD player, and things like that in there, okay?" They flashed a quick look at each other and apparently decided to ignore the smart ass remark about their music. They agreed by nodding at me again.

I knew we were all three exploring the changes in our relationship cautiously. There was no doubt the ways we fit together as a family changed with the first touch of our tongues to each others private parts and when my cock penetrated their pussies. Couldn't be otherwise.

My girls were, probably without conscious planning, staking out the new territory to which they were now entitled, physically and emotionally. In their minds, and in mine too, we were lovers and semi-equals...not just father and children anymore.

It was inevitable. I sighed.

In a since, I lost my two sexy daughters the instant we had any kind of sexual contact, but I gained two partners in the family unit to make up for that loss. I smiled at my two sexy daughters, accepting the change without difficulty.

Most fathers don't see that relationship change until their daughters move in with a boyfriend or get married...and they don't get any particular benefits from the change.

I thought that was the end of the conversation and started to clear the dishes off the table.

"Daddy?" said Lorrie. I aborted the move to get to my feet.

"Uh-huh?" I answered

"What about makeup?" I froze. I had indeed spoke of them keeping their makeup and 'stuff' in their old bathroom. It'd been a slip of the tongue. I'd been thinking only of the things a female has that can be scattered around a neatly organized bachelor's bath. And I could see I'd lost the next "battle" before it had even begun.

I sighed again. It was getting to be a habit.

"Okay, " I said, taking a deep breath before jumping over the edge. "Yes, you can start wearing makeup. You are, literally, a woman now and it's only right, " I admitted.

"Hey!" Mandy complained, in a rising voice. "You wouldn't let me wear makeup 'til I was older. Lorrie gets to do it and she's only old !" It was true and she'd only been older a few months. There was no real answer to her question so I decided to brazen it out.

"Well...you weren't giving me blowjobs when you were juicy and sexy, " I told her. I cocked my head to the side. To them, that was a recognized symbol I was teasing.

Mandy blinked at the unexpected words and was silent for a moment. Then her natural sense of humor overcame her anger at the apparent unequal treatment.

"I would a' if you LET me!" she shot back.

It was my turn to be taken aback. Both girls giggled at what must surely have been a startled look on my features. I smiled, accepting the fact that I'd been one-upped. Well, maybe not. I stuck out my tongue and blew a raspberry. It wasn't totally successful. I leaned forward.

"How 'bout this, you beautiful little blow job artists, " I suggested, leering at my oldest daughter with my eyebrows raised in my best Groucho Marx imitation.

"You two can wear tasteful...well, let's call it 'reasonable'...yeah, that's a better word...amounts of makeup to school, okay?" I hesitated, not sure I'd gotten my point across. The idea I had in mind might need reinforcement in the future. Only time would tell.

"But when we go out together to dinner or a party or other places like that where we will be seen as a family, then you can wear more, uh, rouge and eye shadow, and eye-liner and stuff like that. But it STILL has to be 'age appropriate' to...well, to people who don't do the things WE are doing with each other, okay?"

Both girls grinned happily, superbly pleased at what I offered.

"Now...hmmmmmm...when you go to parties where it's just kids then you can wear more makeup to blend in with the rest of those nasty, exhibitionistic, dirty, nasty, lewd little sluts, how's that?"

They grinned like Cheshire cats but didn't comment on my characterization of many of their girlfriends as sluts. I wondered briefly if I'd chanced on something. But I let it pass.

"And when we're staying in, " I continued, "when it's just us three partying by ourselves, you can make yourselves up to look like the cheapest, trashiest whores from the hottest, raunchiest, slut-filled trailer park in six states, okay?"

My voice lowered in pitch until it was almost a growl...and I was leering again. Mandy and Lorrie looked at each other in amazement, momentarily shocked by my vulgar tone and words. Then they remembered their new status as full-fledged women of the household. It was okay to be brazen hussies now.

Lorrie dragged my head down to hers so she could plant a kiss on my lips that lit my fires again. Mandy launched herself across the table and joined in the kissing fest.

We were still naked as the day we were born, and all that kissing evolved into a happy little fuck and suck right there among the dirty dishes. Then we left the plates and bowls sitting in the sink, hit the showers for a nice long spray, and went to bed early.

We had been having sex all weekend, but Monday morning was going to come sooner than any of us wanted and when it did, I'd have to go to work and they had to go to school.❤