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I was so wrapped up in the afterglow, the bliss following our mutual climax, that I had forgotten all about Brittany, as her expert fingers rubbed at her clit, bringing herself closer and closer to her own orgasm. She came with a force I had never noted before, as she let loose a stream of cum, squirting at the ground at my feet. Another jet slipped from her cunt, splashing her own thighs was her juice, and another that her hand deflected to fall on the carpet in the living room. Brittany was oblivious to me. All I cared about at that moment was the submissive slut that was heaving uncontrollably against my chest. Her blue eyes looked up at me, a smile that only a woman in post-coitus bliss could have crossed her sultry lips. What was the second gift, Brittany asked, recovering from her orgasm faster than her daughter or I. Master, she amended, remembering her place as a submissive slut. Tell her, cum-slut, I ordered the little, sixteen year old girl lying naked on my chest. She. . the new kids ... as yet to be born ... will ... or should be ... equal to Tyche ... and she can guide development ... she’ll be five ... or six.Now ... THAT scares me.I have to wonder ... are there others? Other children whose fathers were blown to bits ... but lived? How long has this been going on?Is it just evolution? Gradual improvement of the species? Or are we a step above?While I was pondering a screech sounded at the helm.“What just happened?”Seven is back! Chaos reigns. “Coming Tyche.” I rushed. Rushing at night on an open deck is not smart. I footed it through the salon and to the steering station.“What seems to be the problem?” I asked my 4 year old helms-kid.“We’re not where we were ... what did you do?”“What makes you think it was me?”Drumming her impatient fingers on the wood and stainless wheel she said, “Aunt Cynthia is asleep. Daddy is ‘entertaining’ mom. It has to be you.”“Can you keep a secret?” I asked.“Maybe ... depends,” Tyche waffled.“Depends on what?”“Is the.
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They do know each other so well, but the exploration of each other fully will so add to their attachment. And to Donald’s new understanding of sexuality in a relationship.But it will have to wait for a bit. When Emma stirs on Sunday morning early, she leans to Donald and tells him that she has been amiss for a bit and needs to go to church this morning – which she always has done every week. Donald, not one much for church since he was with his aunt, does understand this side of Emma now – much to his surprise.“Would you like me to go with you?” he asks, surprising himself for even offering.Emma kisses him in response and says, “Only if you want to. I won’t be gone long, but it would be nice to have you beside me.”And so, a new facet of their relationship begins. They get themselves ready, like most mornings, and are in Emma’s car this time, but with Donald driving. She directs him as they head to the church. The church her parents were married at, the church she grew up in,.

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