Paradise Ch. 2

"And Sarah isn't on the pill." Before I could have said a word further, she kept the phone down.

I stared at my daughter's pussy again. Could it be true - was there the possibility, no matter how remote, that I could have a baby with my daughter? Sire my second offspring off my first? As much as the thought scared me, it excited me. I wanted to cement our relationship, and what better way than to start our own, little, extended family?

I reached my decision, but before I acted on it, I wanted to know is she wanted it too. I wanted our child to be a life borne of love, not of an accident or a compulsion.

My hands circled her knees and pulled them back, with the result that her pussy slammed into my face - the pull had moved her body slightly back, for those who follow the physics of lovemaking strictly - at the same instant that I felt her mouth move over to my balls. After adjusting her lower half until it was easy to get to her pussy, I darted my tongue into her hole, tasting once again her sweet nectar. Once again, the contact shocked us, gave us goose bumps. I felt her shiver as my tongue probed the inner walls, trailing along them and collecting her juices at its tip, and lashing out occasionally.

Ironically, what had started out as a race to get the other person to cum ended in a tie. Her pussy drenched my face with her juices, juices that amazed me by their presence since I had already swallowed so much, while my 'piston' whitewashed every possible place from her neck down. Some of the gobs fell on her mounds, as if covering her nipples with foam.

The waiter, the poor guy, chose us that moment to deliver our food. The door had been open when he had arrived, and thanks to our quiet oral lovemaking, the fellow had presumed it safe to enter. I am sure he must have ruined his pants at the sight of a man and a woman, with the former having made quite a fuss about the latter being his daughter, and now engaged in such amoral pleasure; it was a wonder he didn't call the police.

To his credit, he did recover his composure rather quickly. "Pardon," he said in sincere voice. The standard smile that is so pleasing to tourists all over the world came back. "It was my mistake. I should have knocked."

"It's alright," I said, playing the role of the generous guest. "We should have locked the door in any case."

"Oh no," he protested. People in the profession of hospitality do not blame others, particularly their guests. "You do not have to - it is our duty to get permission before entering. Besides, we are used to this sort of thing - I have walked in on a couple myself once before, but they were in the beach, making out - I mean, making love."

"Even then... Christ, I don't even have any change on me." The waiter smiled at me - of course I wouldn't have any change; I was naked and so was my daughter.

He placed the dishes on a table nearby, deftly arranging them into a small banquet. After he was finished, he bowed before us. "Tips aren't necessary Sir. Not when it is a bother to find the money."

That brought a smile to my face. His sarcasm was based in good humor - and he was correct, for our old clothes lay in a heap at the corner of the room, the rest still inside our unopened suitcases. "I owe you a rain check," I told him. "But I hope you will keep this a secret."

"Definitely, Sir," he said, apparently hurt by my request. "We Monters are known for our discretion."

"I mean, she is my daughter -"

He was already walking out of the door when he stopped in midstride, and looked at us patronisingly. "We respect our guest's need for privacy. If we were to turn away everybody like you, Mr. Ghiwhite, we would hardly have a guest left on the grounds. We care about our relationship with the guests, not theirs with each other. Goodnight, Mrs. Edward, Mr. Ghiwhite."

Sarah and I grinned at each other. We had been given a free hand to do as we pleased, and by God, were we going to take them up on their offer. I walked over to Sarah and knelt down in front of her, taking her hand in mine. I was conscious of her eyes gazing on me lovingly as I began what was probably the most important proposal in my entire life.

"My dear Sarah. My dearest Sarah. I love you with all my heart, as I always have, as I always will. Nothing can change that. But what I want to ask of you, Sarah, is difficult - I know that. And I will understand and respect your wishes if you say no, but I don't want you to say yes just for me - say yes only and only if you want it yourself.

"My dear Sarah, my darling daughter, your mother told me you were not on the pill.

"Will you have my baby?"

And right there, in that honeymoon cottage on an island in Montserrat, the most beautiful moment of my life took place. With tears in her eyes, Sarah knelt down beside me and hugged me. As I felt a tear fall on my shoulder, I heard her say the magic words, "You don't know how much I want to!"

****

I still recall that trip and that wonderful moment as if it had happened just a day or two ago, but one glance at the calendar reminds me that it's been ten years since that magical winter. Beside me, my nude daughter opens an eye, peering out at me in the loving darkness of our bedroom. We still hold hands when we sleep, and we still make love three times a day.

In the next bedroom lie Eddie, still my daughter's legal husband, and a three-month pregnant Becky. Across the hallway, I can hear my wife singing lullabies to her third grandchild, a seven-month old baby girl. In the room to its left sleep our two little devils, aged five and nine. And although I am not quite sure, I can hear the sound of their Gameboys even at this late hour.

As I sink back into a contented sleep with my daughter, I hear the gentle breeze and the quiet lapping of the water. Of the island where years ago, I first made love to my daughter.