The Best Drink

"Your Pop? I mean, did you two -"

She smiled, with a whimsical note in it. "Did we ever! One entire summer. We did nothing else... It was before I met you, Jack, before I fell in love with you." She winced as she said the words, "Before he died."

I did not know what to say. This was a side of Annie I had never known. A side I had never suspected. At least, it made things clearer - things like her indifference to the potential incest my daughter and I were indulging in. It was a relief knowing that my wife wasn't going to sit in judgment of us.

"Another thing, John. Helen's been cooped up in here lately - why don't you take her out for a movie or something? I can look after Becky while you are gone."

I nodded, for it was a good suggestion. It would also give us some time alone to sort our feelings out. Some privacy to decide where we wanted to take our relationship. A movie sounded good; the darkness would be friendly. Sure.

Half an hour later, I drove Becky to a multiplex on the outskirts. She was having a mini-skirt, a tight t-shirt and high heels that made her almost as tall as me. Her face, on the other hand, was free of any makeup - for the simple reason that it didn't need any. In our hurry, we forgot to check out the posters - we ended up in the backseats of a theater showing a randy Madonna in little more than nothing. I immediately mentioned that it was a good evening for a long ride, but Helen insisted we stay. We did.

Barely five minutes had passed when she whispered hastily to me, "It's leaking again."

I was puzzled. Hadn't Becky finished off her share?

"She didn't have much - just a little, and then she fell asleep again. God, I feel so full."

I knew what she wanted - her father to the rescue. I didn't know if it was safe - we were in a movie hall, and being caught with my head in my daughter's tits didn't seem so enticing. But all it took was one little squeeze, and I reversed my inhibitions.

I pulled our seat back to the maximum, and lifted the handrail between the seats. The nearest couple was ten rows away. Helen lifted her t-shirt, and I felt around for her bra. Helen giggled as I touched her bare mounds. "Didn't wear them. Hurry, Dad. Otherwise it will stain my top."

We couldn't have that, could we?

I hefted her onto my lap and stuck the t-shirt into a nearby seat. I went to work right away, suckling on her left breast with all the passion I had felt with her right. The naughtiness of doing it so publicly caused me to give extra emphasis with my squeezes, and Helen helped by grinding against me. After some time, I felt her cum, the liquid dripping onto my pants. Thankfully, the moans on the screen disguised the moans of my daughter.

This time, when we finished, we knew what to do. We wanted each other, and we knew it. But I didn't want my first time with my daughter in a theater - that's even worse than the back of a car. We kissed passionately as she put on her t-shirt, and we practically ran out of the multiplex, not wanting anybody to see the evidences of what had actually happened back inside the hall. I could feel the attendant's eyes leering at us, at what he must have thought 'a really horny couple.'

I knew precisely where I wanted to take her - our old home. I had put it on the market after my son died, but there had been few offers. I knocked the 'For Sale' sign placed on the driveway over as I screeched to a halt. The key was still where I had kept it, below the floor mat, and I opened the door. Before Helen could move, though, I lifted her into my arms and carried her into her childhood home. Everything was as it had been, the furniture and the hearth covered with plastic sheets.

I lost no time in carrying her over to my old bedroom. I kicked the door open, feeling familiar memories of my wedding twenty-six years ago come to the fore. Almost immediately, the present was back in full focus. I felt exhilarated - I was finally going to make love to the loveliest woman on this planet. I was going to make love to my daughter.

I dropped her on the plastic sheets, but she immediately rolled over to the other side and started to pull the sheets off. I followed her cue, tearing the sheets away at my end. The crumpling of the plastic filled the air for a few minutes, and then there was only the sound of springs as we fell into each other's embrace on the bed. The wood creaked in protest as we rolled back and forth, our lips locked tighter than a death-grip.

It struck us both at the same time - the need to get naked. Helen sat on top of me and was about to pull her own t-shirt off when I stopped her. She got the hint, and while I heaved her t-shirt off her body, she started to unbutton my shirt. It was a struggle to manage to concentrate on her skirt, with her watermelons juggling just a few inches above my face, but finally, I got her naked.

Seeing that she was having difficulty removing my jeans, I stood up and removed them myself. The briefs followed them into the darker recesses of the bedroom, but my eyes were riveted on my daughter. Not a word was spoken as we kissed again, deeper and more passionately than ever. We tossed saliva back and forth for some time, after which we just let our tongues dance with each other.

When we parted, Helen looked at me with a dusky look that made me feel so ... seduced. Suddenly, inspiration struck me - I moved back to her breast. Even though I had ferociously drunk milk from them only half an hour ago, they were still full, perhaps due to the effects of the medicine that Dr.Wong had administered. After sucking in a mouthful, I kissed her again, this time feeding her, as birds do, off my mouth. Just the realization that I was kissing my daughter with her own milk nearly sent me over the edge, but for my excited lover, it was enough to set her off. It was a challenge keeping our lips stuck together as she buckled and jerked under me, her love juices staining the bedspread.

We kept up with the 'proxy breast-feeding', until both of us knew we couldn't hold on any more - especially me. I wanted to fill my daughter up with the same stuff that had once created her - the same stuff that had the potential of creating an offspring, my offspring, in her. I knew she wasn't on the pill, and four months should have been enough time for her to resume her periods once again. On retrospect, I must admit that these facts occurred to me after the act, because at that time, our consummation must have been the only thing in my mind.

It was earth shattering - the climax of our coupling as we came together, in each other's hands, as a tribute to the love and the passion that we shared. We could never ever be just father and daughter - we knew, and we accepted that. What we also knew was that we belonged, without a doubt, to each other. I may be married to her mother, but as we lay there, in the afterglow of our lovemaking, I felt like a king - with his queen by his royal side. We felt ourselves merge into one.

Sleep would not come; nor did we want it to. It was just as wonderful to have her nude body beside me, her beautifully sculptured body with the matchless mind, as we stared up at the dark ceiling. The sun had gone down half an hour ago, and even though we knew we should be getting back home, we felt an equal compulsion to savor the moment as much as possible.

She squeezed my palm gently, and I felt my heart soar. For in this short time, that gesture had come to be mean the professing of our endless love for each other. "Happy?" she asked me.

Instead of answering her directly, I brought her hand to my lips and kissed the back of her palm. Lovers have few words for each other - every action speaks volumes on their behalf. I felt my eyes brim with tears as I perceived her own tears trailing down her cheeks. Neither of us spoke again for some time.

"You realize I am not on the pill," she finally said. It was a more of a question than a statement, the last of her lingering doubts.

"I do."

She paused, waiting for me to elaborate. I let the moment pass, deciding to keep mum until she came out with her desire.

"I could have your baby." There was hope in her voice. Hope interfused with love and fear. Fear about a possible refusal from my part.

"Only if you let me sign my name beside yours."

She mulled over my reply for a second, not wanting to misinterpret my words. Her eyes lit up as she realized the full import of what I had said. Not only did I want our baby, I wanted to publicly announce it as mine. Mine and hers.

Ours.

She rolled on top of me, and we kissed again.

****

The white walls of the waiting room remind me of another similar room in another hospital in another situation, but the painful memories last only for a second. I fidget uneasily in front of the labor room as I wait for the good news. My wife Annie links her arm through mine, assuring me that everything would be just fine.

Presently, a plump nurse heads in our direction.

"Excuse me, but are you Helen's -?" She leaves the last word unsaid.

I nod.

"Congratulations! Your daughter just delivered a baby girl. Mother and child are doing just fine."

"Can I see her?" I ask eagerly.

"Right after you sign here," the nurse says, handing me the paternity papers. Annie, with Becky by her side, shoots me a proud and loving look. She follows the nurse into the delivery ward, almost running to see her daughter and her newest grandchild - a grandchild born to her husband.

I thank God for his blessings before signing my name.

Right beside the column named, "Father's Name."