Chapter 10
A light November rain fell all around the house as Warren Wendt sat comfortably in his living room. It was pleasant to spend a Sunday afternoon at home, particularly when the weather was so wet, and just watch television or read the papers. It struck the handsome advertising executive that his life had become much more relaxed since the fateful evening when he discovered the dark truth about Brandie Harper and found himself in the arms of his pretty brunette daughter. It was an impossible, almost absurd twist of fate that had juggled them all like pawns in a bizarre chess game, leaving results and changes that no one, especially the brown-haired widower, could have possibly predicted.
He glanced momentarily out the front window at the For Sale sign so forlornly placed in front of the home that once belonged to Brandie Harper. After witnessing her obscene debauchery with Pete Haney and his older companion, Warren couldn't bear to see the sultry blonde again, and had been quite curt and cold to her when she called the house, obviously confused as to why her prospective new husband was refusing to continue their relationship and affair. Soon, she stopped calling, and Warren assumed she must have guessed what had happened for she moved out of her house shortly after that, leaving no forwarding address.
Just as well, he thought, finally pulling himself away from the window. It couldn 't have worked, not after that night, not after what happened.
At that moment, Wendy came into the living room with a tray of steaming coffee and sandwiches, and Warren felt his heart begin to beat faster as he caught sight of his daughter's incredibly slender yet curvacious form so enticingly clad in a pair of skin-tight jeans and snug blue blouse, and the way her cascading brown hair .hung loosely about her radiant face. He realized that if the world knew the true nature of their relationship, he would be chastized, perhaps even crucified for all he knew. But then, too,, the thoughtful widower mused, his life with the brunette angel who was setting his tray down on the coffee table was far more satisfying, in every conceivable way, than any he had known before. Maybe to some it was shocking, even immoral, but to Warren and his teenaged daughter, everything was working out just fine. They had everything they needed, including love.
"I hope you like the lunch I made, Daddy,"
Wendy purred as she sat on the arm of his chair and hugged him around the neck.
"I know I will, sweetheart," he murmured contentedly, enjoying the closeness of her warm young body. "Don't I always tell you you're the perfect little wife?"
"Yes, you do ... and I'm so glad I can make you happy."
"You do, honey," he whispered, pulling her down onto his lap and holding her close. "You really do."
He sighed pleasantly as he felt his penis begin to throb with the heat of arousal as his cuddly daughter wiggled her soft buttocks over the large, firm bulge of his cock and balls. What could be more perfect, more genuinely an expression of love than this, he wondered? And who is to say what's wrong or right in these chaotic times? No, the young widower knew that there were no easy answers anymore, no simple solution to any problem. Lazily he let his hand begin to caress Wendy's warm inner thighs, as she began to kiss him softly on the neck.
You try to find what you need, he thought to himself, and hope to God you can get it. And when you do, you hold on. You hold on tight.