James Gang Ch. 02: The James Girls

"What Daddy?"

"I'm not," he couldn't believe what he was about to say. "I'm not wearing a condom, sweetheart. I want you . . . I mean, I want us to . . . but . . . we need some protection, baby."

I giggled. "Protection from what, Daddy? I know you don't have anything I can catch."

He turned beet red. "But . . . what about a-a baby, honey . . .?"

I purred as I sank on him. "Mmm. That would be lovely. Yes, I'll take one of those, please, Daddy."

That did something to him. With more vigor than I'd seen from Daddy in years, he flipped me underneath him and buried his cock into me. Aggressively, he pinned my wrists to his mattress as he fucked me as hard and fast as he could. Between my screams of "Daddy!" and "Oh yes!", I orgasmed multiple times. I lay back and let my father have his way with me. I let him do with me whatever he wished, and when I knew he was close to his orgasm, I screamed out:

"Pump me full of your cream until I'm pregnant, Daddy! Don't you dare waste a drop! Fuck me until I'm bloated with your baby! Knock up your daughter like the little slut she was born to be!"

Daddy couldn't contain himself. He exploded inside me before collapsing. I eagerly held him against me afterward, both of us completely spent, my pussy milking as much of his sperm as it could.

I never slept in my own bed again after that night, and I never came home to find Daddy staring at that damn tree stump.

From then on, whenever I came home and there was a window in his room, it meant that my father was in bed . . . waiting for me . . .

******

Two years later, Daddy's health turned for the worst again, and this time, the doctors said there wasn't anything that they could do. It had been a sheer miracle that had kept him kicking this long, and they were at a loss to explain how a man who had been on the brink had suddenly seemed to reverse his fortunes. When they questioned him, Daddy would only smile at them, and then smoothly slide a discreet hand up my skirt, getting a feel of as much of my thigh as he dared. I would respond with a naughty grin, and we'd race home as fast as possible.

Unlike Kenneth and Darbie, Daddy and I weren't in any rush to let people know what we were up to. I'm sure that some of them suspected, especially when I became pregnant. With a town as small as ours, it wasn't possible for a girl to get pregnant without some inkling of who the father was, and I had never been seen with a date. All anyone knew was that I was a young, fertile girl, living with a father whom I was abnormally close to . . .

As seemed to be the custom in our family, I eventually found that I was pregnant with twins. But unlike, Kenneth and Darbie, and their pair, mine were identicals. Both of them boys. I named the first one immediately, but couldn't come up with one for the second. Besides that, however, I wanted Daddy to give him a name. But, that was a difficult thing to arrange, because as Daddy's health declined, he spent more and more time in the hospital, and he was barely awake.

I never left his side. Not unless someone dragged me away. I practically lived in the hospital throughout my pregnancy and Daddy's illness. And it was there that I finally stopped giving a damn about what people thought. As I sat at his side, I held his hand while he slept, not because he was my father . . .

. . . but because, for all intents and purposes, he was my husband.

The rest of the family were supportive. One day, Mom showed up and wanted to be let into Daddy's room. At the time, however, the hospital had asked that everyone except the spouse sit in the waiting room. Mom, unbelievably, tried to work her way inside by claiming that she was "the closest thing to a wife he's got".

From that everyone tells me, that was when Kenneth got out of his seat and stared our Mother down.

"No, you aren't, Mom," he told her. "Now take a seat."

Timidly, Mom did just that, embarrassed to be put in place by her own son, and even more embarrassed when everyone else in the family stared her down just as coldly. A few hours later, I guess something suddenly dawned on her, because she asked:

"Where's Caroline?"

Everyone only stared at her silently.

"Oh . . ." she said.

To her credit, though, I had to thank her for coming. She apologized to Daddy again for all she'd done to him, knowing in her heart that it was too little too late. She then hugged me too, taking a moment to notice the bulge in my belly before casting a smile and leaving with a tear in her eye.

I finally gave birth to my sons shortly afterward. The first I named Robert Jr., directly after his father. The second, however, I declined to name until the next time I spoke to my 'husband'.

Daddy's condition slowly got worse and worse, and we fewer and fewer 'good days'. Eventually, on the last good day he'd ever have, Daddy called me to his side and whispered into my ear. Tearfully, I nodded to him and promised him I would do what he asked.

My father passed away the very next morning.

******

The day of the funeral, our entire family was in attendance. Mother and Mr. Hines included. Somewhat fittingly, this was the second event that had reunited my entire family together, the first being a wedding.

But although we were all saddened by the loss of a great man . . . a dedicated father . . . and a wonderful lover . . . we decided to spend the day, not in mourning, but in fond remembrance.

And, to add a little more light to the moment, I had a little announcement to make. This was the first time that I would reveal to my family the last words that my Daddy had said to me. I started out by introducing everyone to the two precious gifts he left me:

My son, Robbie . . .

. . . and his twin brother, Dwight.

The End.