Of Biblical Proportions

*****

That some place was Debra's bedroom, decorated as it was the day she left for college. In fact, the décor hadn't changed much since she was a young teen in middle school. The motif bespoke of little girl innocence—stuffed animals arrayed on a pink bedspread, Nancy Drew hardbacks neatly shelved in a built-in bookshelf, various trinkets atop her desk from a bygone era of her life.

The contradiction between that and what presumably was about to happen in this room, wasn't lost on Max Brodsky the moment he entered and kicked off his black dress shoes. His only daughter stood before him, just the way her deceased mom once did, and looking so much like her in body type and in her face, her seductive, puppy dog eyes and her mouth, wide and sensuous. His only daughter, she with the long, gorgeous legs, C-cup sized boobs and long, flowing hair; she with a long-held fantasy floating around in her head, one, literally, of biblical proportions.

He watched her slip off her blouse and then peel out of her shorts, so sexy the way she did that, he thought. "Don't be shy, dad," she said, standing before him wearing only her pink lace panties. She cupped her hand over his crotch. "You want me, I can tell."

Shy wasn't exactly how he felt. Tentative was more accurate, though, per Debra's comment, it didn't compromise his arousal any. He threw off his shirt and undershirt, then loosened his belt and slid out of his pants. "No use even trying to hide it," he said, then stepped out of his boxer shorts.

"Ohmygod!" It's not so much the length that impressed her but the thickness of it, the same thick appendage that had helped bring her into the world. She wrapped her hand around it with one hand and caressed his broad, ruddy, hairy chest with the other.

He didn't try to stop her when she stooped down to put her mouth around it. Just a little over an hour ago, he was praying in synagogue, kippah atop his head and tallis hanging around his neck. Now here he stood in his daughter's bedroom, engaged in what many would call an unspeakable act, sin of sins. "Honey, I'd bet a million bucks I was the only man at services today who came home to this."

She looked up and grinned. "That's one bet you couldn't lose, though I doubt you'd have any takers."

After a few more "strokes," she stood up and drew the shades. Then she began to remove the bedspread and the stuffed animals atop her bed, her teddy bears and bunnies and a beloved panda that an ex-boyfriend had won for her at a carnival years ago. The spread and animals went onto the white carpeting next to their clothes, after which they embraced and kissed before climbing into bed. "I love you Meri—" Meriam, he started to say, before he caught himself. He began to apologize. "Deb, I'm so sorry, I—"

"That's okay, dad," she said. Her eyes misted up. "I realize how much you miss mom and how much I remind you of her."

He had missed doing what came next, too, pushing aside the crotch of her panties and then pleasuring her with his tongue. 'It all tastes the same, it all stinks,' a friend once told him years ago. Not so, at least for Max who had enjoyed licking his wife's clit and now his daughter's, and hearing the high-pitched, female moans of joy that was music to his ears. "Oh, you're gonna make me come, you're gonna make me come!" she cried, and moments later, she did exactly that, much to his delight.

Debra was acting out a fantasy culled from her fascination with a biblical story. For Max, cavorting with his daughter like this was a form of transference. This was no schizophrenic episode—Max didn't lose sight of who he shared this bed with. But Debra's strong resemblance to Meriam helped to rationalize what he was doing.

Max didn't articulate those feelings. He didn't have to because Debra understood; she got it, and she wanted more. She slipped off her panties and laid back. Then, spreading those long, beautiful legs of hers, she said, "Make love to me, Max."

Max loved her even more for being so sensitive and perceptive and for doing what Meriam once did when they went missionary, wrapped her long legs around his waist while he alternated between slow and jackhammer-furious. Grunt, groan, moan—the sounds of sex echoed throughout the room, this room that once belonged to a young girl whose imagination had caught fire upon hearing a certain biblical story, one now brought to fruition on this Saturday afternoon—a story that Max had given no thought to until Debra revealed her fantasy. Now, however, it was very much on his mind, as Debra began to climax and as he skidded toward his. He'd be passing his seed into her, the way Lot, unknowingly, passed his seed into his two offspring. Debra said she was protected. But was she really? Suppose she said that just to fulfill the fantasy? Or suppose she did take birth control and it failed? Such were his passing thoughts, thoughts that he refused to let ruin this special time with his daughter, thoughts that dissolved in the explosive, white heat of his orgasm.

*****

"Passion makes strange bed fellows," Max said, as he began to gather his clothes from the floor.

Debra nodded in agreement. "It doesn't just apply to politics. Not in our case." She sat up in bed, wiping the remnants of Max's "seed" from her pussy.

Max watched her wipe herself, still mindful of the birth control issue. "I hope what we just did fulfills your Lot fantasy."

"Very much so," Debra said, rolling the tissues she used into a ball. "You made me come twice, the only man who's ever done that, and I'm looking forward to more. Yet a part of me wishes that what happened in the bible, allegedly at any rate, could happen in real life. How wonderful it would be if potential birth defects weren't an issue and we conceived a child together." She could tell by his skeptical look that he wasn't so sure. "You don't think so?"

"Psychologically, the kid would be all screwed up. Imagine if his or her friends found out who the parents were. And even if they didn't, think about how YOU'D feel knowing that your mom is also your sister and your dad is also your grandfather."

She nodded. "Of course. I'm just saying what if. The authors of Genesis went on to explain how the offspring of Lot and his daughters founded the Moabites and the Ammonites but said nothing about any psychological implications."

"Not part of the narrative, I guess. Meanwhile, Yom Kippur is coming up. I have an extra ticket. Wanna go?"

"The Day of Atonement. We have nothing to atone for, do we, dad? She blinked her eyes and drew him a sly grin.

He stood there naked, with his now flaccid cock hanging down like a dead slug and his clothes draped over his arm. "I'm sure that Rabbi Katzen would disagree. He'd be horrified, might make us stay after services and write chapter eighteen of Leviticus a hundred times. You know, all those versus that prohibit relatives from uncovering their nakedness."

"Are we bad or what?"

"Like Lot's daughters. So, you'll attend services with me?"

Services she could take or leave, but she knew it would mean a lot to Max if she kept him company. "I will, dad, I will."

*****

"Welcome back," Karen McCreery said when Debra returned to her dorm on Sunday afternoon. "How was your weekend?"

Debra put her travel bag down on the green linoleum floor and sat on the edge of her bed. "One of the best weekends I've had in years."

Karen, in jeans and a sweat-shirt, sat on her desk chair and crossed her legs. "Really? So who is he?" She drew a big smile, showing her large white teeth.

"His name is Lot."

Holding her stomach, Karen doubled over and let out a hearty laugh, almost losing the blue headband that sat atop her wavy, short blond hair. "You're still on that Genesis story, I see." Her complexion, turned pink from laughing, was starting to return to its normally light color.

Debra grinned in satisfaction, enjoying her friend's mirth. "You like that one, huh."

"I do. Well, whoever he is, I hope you've dropped the idea of having a sibling through incest. Speaking of which, I kind of think you were putting me on anyway." She stared at Debra for a few moments; her smile of joy morphed into one of caution. "You were, weren't you?"

"Putting you on? Um, yes, of course." Not the truth, but she lived with this God-fearing girl and wanted to stay in her good graces. Besides, she was smart enough to know that diplomacy was sometimes more appropriate than honesty. She just hoped that Karen couldn't see through her faux grin.

Karen's relaxed smile returned. "Okay, so what made the weekend so great? I'd think it must be because of some guy. It seems as if your weekend social calendar is always full."

Debra laughed inside, knowing she was about to tell a half-truth. "Well, okay, he's somewhat older and one handsome dude. Kind of resembles President Reagan without the wrinkles and pompadour. And he's Jewish besides. We even discussed the Lot story."

"Wow! Looks like you might have found your soulmate. I hope you didn't, you know, tell him what you told me. Even as a joke."

"No way. I mean, it was only our first date."

"So what's his name and what's he do?"

"Name...um, let's see, ah, Norman. Norman, that's it. And he's, um, well..." Nervous giggle. "You know, I'm not exactly sure. Something to do with computers, I believe. We didn't get too far into it."

"Devout Jew?"

"Much more so than me. He invited me to sit with him for Yom Kippur services."

"And will you?"

"I plan to. I mean, we all have sins to atone for."

Karen nodded. "True, but God forgives. Just remember that. He apparently forgave Lot's daughters. So whatever you've done that's sinful, pray for forgiveness while also making a sincere effort to not repeat the sin."

"Got it," Debra said, knowing damn well she wasn't ready to make a 'sincere effort' not to repeat what happened over the weekend. She could see herself joining Max in prayer, and then returning home from synagogue, only to engage in the same naughty behavior she had allegedly atoned for. She felt that Max would go along. After all, too much of a bad thing can be too good to pass up.