"Well, we're done with the decorations. It looks pretty good. I think I'm going to grab a shower and hit the sack. 'Night Daddy." She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek about the same time as he turned his head. She ended up pecking him on the lips instead. He felt his cock lurch and tried to keep his mind on other things.
"'Night baby," he said automatically.
Both kids trooped off upstairs. Jim sat there, stewing.
The next morning was Saturday and Jim got up early, mostly because of the dreams he had the night before. If dreams came true in another dimension, then both his daughter and Cindy were even more cum-soaked than ever, and pregnant to boot. And this time it was his fault, not some faceless man with a big dick. He would have to wash his sheets again, but this time it was from sweat.
He was standing at the stove making bacon and eggs when Mark came in the room. He was dressed and obviously on his way somewhere. He made a peanut butter sandwich and left, munching on it. It suddenly occurred to Jim that he had an ally in Mark. After all, if Mark knew that some guy had spewed sperm in his sister's pussy, he would want to kill the guy himself, right? "Mark, I need to talk to you about something," he said, without thinking it through any more than that.
Mark looked up. "OK, but make it quick. I've got to be somewhere in twenty minutes."
Jim started to say something, but he needed more time. Anyway, he heard Cathy coming down the stairs. A split second later Cathy wandered into the kitchen. This morning she was dressed in what she called her nightgown. It was, in reality, one of Jim's old T shirts. It had a picture of the band KISS on the front, Gene Simmons' tongue hanging down to the bottom of the shirt, with the words "Sex, Drugs, Rock and Roll" on the back. Jim noticed that the tip of Simmons' tongue was located right about where Cathy's shaven pussy would be behind that shirt. He'd gotten that shirt at the first concert he and Lucy had gone to together. They would made love after the concert for the first time. He'd been wearing that shirt when they started. In the intervening years the shirt had been injured, with holes and tears all over it, some repaired, some not. As such, it was very comfortable, but also showed what was under it in many situations.
"Morning, Daddy," she said as she fished in the cupboard for a bowl and some cereal.
"Good morning, Cathy," he said, somewhat stiffly. He knew he was going to explode. He decided to try one of the things he would thought of the night before. "Cathy?" he said. She turned and looked at him. "I ... ah ... there's this guy at work and his daughter is ready to go on the pill, but he doesn't know which kind is best. So I thought I would ask you what kind you take, and how you like them ... you know ... so I can tell him ..."