It was quiet in the house; Beatrice was at school, Rosie couldn't
believe her little girl was sixteen now. Melissa, Bea's half, and
now step-sister was also at school. People often remarked how
much the two girls looked alike, but never in front of John;
there were rumours around that he wasn't Melissa's father, which
he'd obviously heard whispered behind his back, but he payed them
no mind.

Steve had left her. She blamed herself; if she hadn't fooled
around with Bobby, Steve would never have met Bobby's girlfriend
Georgie. They'd hit it off immediately, and Georgie was besotted;
Steve had freed her sexually and she wanted more. She started a
campaign to win Steve for herself; randomly showing up as he
finished work or went out for lunch. At first Steve thought she
was just being friendly, but she had been waiting for the right
time to pounce.

It happened two years previously; Rosie and Steve had an argument
in the morning, after Rosie came home late after going to John &
Sheila's house. They often went out with them on a weekend,
swapping partners on occasion, but they'd laid down ground rules
where there should be at least three of them present. Steve was
late at work when Rosie rang, saying she was going over to see
Sheila. Sheila rang him shortly after to ask if they'd go over to
keep John company, as she was out with a friend. Alarm bells rang
for Steve; he arrived home to find the girls watching TV at his
house and a note on the table from Rosie, saying she was over at
John and Sheila's, his dinner was in the microwave.

They barely spoke all night, and argued in the morning. It was
that afternoon when Georgie's plan came to fruition. Shortly
after she'd split up with Bobby, her head was filled with ways
she could get closer to Steve. No other man had made her feel the
way she'd felt that night and she needed him to make her feel
whole. She had planned to get him alone and seduce him, but every
time she got him on his own, talk turned to either Rosie or
Beatrice, no matter how she steered the conversation. She was
patient, and bided her time, waiting for a sign.

Today, she felt things were different. Georgie bumped into Steve
at lunchtime and they headed to a nearby park for lunch. Sat on a
bench, Steve told her about his fight with Rosie; Georgie,
seizing the opportunity, put her hand on Steve's leg and
squeezed, consoling him. He placed his hand on hers, thinking at
first that he was going to remove it, he turned his head to look
at her and saw pure, unbridled lust. They moved together, their
lips touching lightly at first, then crushing against each other
as their passion overtook their sensibility.

They parted, Steve apologised profusely as Georgie took his hand
and placed it on her chest. He could feel her heart racing, her
breathing, quick and shallow, her pert breasts rising with each
breath. "I can't do this." He said. Georgie's piercing blue eye's
never left his as she moved his hand lower, resting it on her
flat stomach for a moment, then placing it on her thigh. She
moved closer to him, his hand brushed up her smooth skin and his
fingers touched the edge of her panties under her skirt.

She kissed him again, his fingers, seemingly with a mind of their
own, traced the outline of her pants, then felt her puffy lips
through the fabric. She shivered as he caressed her labia through
the thin material, their tongues dancing, his mind full of
thoughts of their last coupling as her hand stole to his crotch
and squeezed his hardness through his trousers.

He could take no more. He broke the kiss and sat back,
breathless. She knew she'd broken through, but needed to let this
play out. "Georgie, we can't do this. We..."

"You know Rosie is having an affair with that man, don't you?"
She said quietly.

"But..." He started.

"But what?" She interrupted. "But you love her?" Steve hung his
head, unsure of how to continue.

"She changed the rules Steve. She's carrying on with him, without
your permission. This isn't the swinging threesome and foursome
game you started. It's just those two now." There were tears
forming in the corner of his eyes, he didn't know how she knew
all this; he didn't know she'd been obsessed with him since they
met, that she'd been stalking him and following Rosie when she
left the house alone. Obviously, he'd told Georgie about their
arrangement with John and Sheila, and about Sheila's
extra-curricular activities, which had since blossomed into full
blown affairs where she'd stay away for weeks with her lovers.

John loved being a cuckold at first, but it was starting to wear
thin and he was feeling neglected. Rosie would go over to comfort
him, often telling Steve that Sheila was there with them. Sheila
would cover for Rosie, knowing that Steve was busy at work and
unable to check, too wrapped up in her own cavorting to worry
that her husband had grown tired of playing second fiddle to her
studs.

Steve had guessed some of this, but he was shocked about how much
Georgie actually knew. "I couldn't stop thinking about you after
that night." She said. "The way you made love to me while your
wife was screaming for Bobby to fuck her. You could have lost
control and fucked me harder, but you just knew which buttons to
push to get me off first. When I came, it was only you I could
think of; no one has done that to me before or since. There have
been a few other men, but I compared them all to you and they
just didn't feel right."

He looked at her, she held his hand and squeezed it. "Steve, you
know you're losing her, and there's nothing you can do about
that. She's chosen her path and it leads away from you." He knew
he and Rosie had been growing apart; he'd been working later and
coming home to find his daughter and Melissa watching TV while
Rosie was over at Sheila and John's. Rosie seemed preoccupied
when she returned home; going straight to bed and unwilling to
share her stories of what she'd just done like she used to.

Georgie kissed his cheek. Steve's shoulders dropped and he
slumped forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He didn't know
how he'd missed it all and he felt lost and stupid. Georgie
pulled him close, lifted his chin gently and kissed his lips. He
responded; placing his hands on her bum and lifting her onto his
lap. "Not here!" She whispered urgently into his ear as his hand
found its way under the elastic of her pants. "Tell her you're
working late tonight, then meet me here." She pressed a scrap of
paper into his breast pocket, stood up, kissed him lightly on the
lips and left.

Back at work, he couldn't think straight; his mind flitting
between Georgie, Rosie and John, his daughter and Sheila. He took
the piece of paper from his pocket, Georgie's address was written
neatly in the centre, followed by a kiss. The paper looked as
though it had been in her pocket for a while, like she'd been
waiting for the right moment to approach him. She'd timed it just
right, and what she'd told him had hit home hard.

He remembered the argument from this morning; Rosie screaming at
him that he didn't control her, that she could do whatever she
wanted with whomever she pleased. That was the choice he'd made
when he let John fuck her the first time. Then she hit out with
perhaps the cruelest blow of all; that Beatrice wasn't his
daughter. She'd told Steve a while ago that John had had a
vasectomy and both Bea and Mel were his, but she'd lied.
Unbeknownst to Steve, John, at Rosie's insistence, had a
paternity test proving that both girls were his. Steve couldn't
believe it, but Rosie stormed upstairs and came back down moments
later with a document. She thrust it in Steve's face, tears
streaming down her face. "I didn't want you to find out like
this." She sobbed. Steve scanned the document, screwed it up and
threw it at her before turning and leaving the house.

His head was in his hands. Georgie's address, laid flat on the
desk before him, seemed to glow. He knew what he had to do. He
picked up the phone and dialled his home number, it rang out. He
tried again and it was picked up on the fourth ring, Bea
answered, "Hello?"

"Hi honey, it's dad."

"Dad?" She sounded worried, "Are you okay? I heard you two this
morning. Is everything alright?"

"It's fine sweetheart." He lied. ""Is your mother there?"

"She's over at John's, been there since you left this morning.
Dad?"

"Yeah?" He sighed.

"I saw that result thing. Is it true?"

"Looks like it might be." He replied, dejected.

"Me and Melissa? Dad what happened? Why? How? Dad?"

"I can't tell you now honey. Tell your mother I'll be late home,
if she comes home at all."

As he replaced the receiver he could hear Beatrice say "Okay,
love you."

Rosie had answered any doubts he had by running straight to John.
He stood, picked up Georgie's address and left the office. He
left his car in the office car park, preferring to walk the few
miles to Georgie's place to clear his head. His thoughts kept
returning to the argument, that first night she'd fucked John,
and the morning after, Rosie's face and her words as his friend
took her in the shower. He was in a mess of his own making and it
was too late to put it back how it was. He felt like he had
nothing to tie him to Rosie any more. Both the girls he thought
were his own flesh and blood were another man's daughters. He
loved them both equally. He'd raised Bea as his own, as John had
raised Melissa; they had vowed not to have the girls tested, that
both would be brought up as their own despite not knowing who the
fathers were, but curiosity, or something more nefarious, had
driven Rosie to find the identity of her daughter's real father.

He hesitated as he reached Georgie's front door, his hand holding
onto the pulled out knocker, he took a deep breath and knocked.
The door opened almost immediately and Georgie pulled him in, he
had little time to take in the view of the spacious hallway as
the door closed behind him, then Georgie was in his arms,
covering his face with kisses. He reached behind her and grabbed
her bum as she jumped up, wrapping her legs around his waist,
hugging him tighter, kissing him urgently.

He moved towards a chaise longue beside the stairs and laid her
down, she released her arms and reclined as Steve kissed her
neck. Arching her back and pulling up her t-shirt, Steve kissed
her bare breasts, flicking her hard nipples with his tongue and
sucking them. His hand travelled slowly up her bare leg, bunching
her short skirt up around her waist and finding her shaved pussy,
moist with anticipation as his finger parted her easily. She
moaned as he rubbed her clit, applying pressure as she ran her
hands through his hair, his finger penetrating her slowly, her
breath quickening.

He kissed her mouth, his finger, fully inserted into her, was
joined by another. She kissed him hungrily as she tried to
unbutton his shirt but faltered, gripping the edge of the seat as
her orgasm peaked and she cried out. He removed his fingers and
sucked them as she lay back, panting, looking at him through
starry eyes as she recovered her composure.

He stood, she took his proffered hand, swung her luscious legs
around and sat up. Steve sat beside her as she held his hand on
her lap. He could feel her thigh shaking, thrumming like an
electrical current running through her. "I..." He started, but
she put a finger to his lips.

"You wouldn't be here if we weren't meant to be together." She
said. He smiled and nodded, then she got up and, still holding
his hand, led him upstairs.

Rosie returned home. Fully expecting another shouting match, she
was surprised that the house seemed empty. She noticed a glow on
the landing which must have coming from one of the bedrooms, so
she climbed the stairs apprehensively. Rosie found the girls in
Bea's room, both fast asleep on the bed in front of the forgotten
television. She turned it off, Beatrice stirred and turned over,
Rosie kissed her cheek and whispered, "Night honey." Then she
went to her own room, threw herself on the bed and sobbed into
her pillow.

Five minutes later, Beatrice entered her mum's room, "Mum, what's
up? Is it dad?"

Rosie lifted her head from the pillow and sat up, "Which one?"
She laughed humourlessly. "I suppose you know now? I'm assuming
he's told you?"

"I saw the letter." Bea sat down next to her mother, "Is it true?
Is John my biological father?"

Rosie looked at her daughter with red rimmed eyes, "It is love.
Your dad didn't want you to know. He didn't know himself, but
John needed to know about Melissa, so we took a sample of your
DNA with her's. Mel is your sister." Beatrice shook her head
slowly, letting the news sink in. She didn't have long though as
Rosie dropped the next bombshell. "Your uncle John. I mean, your
actual father, wants to divorce Sheila; he's tired of the
affairs."

"Who's?" Bea laughed cynically. Rosie flashed her a cross look.

"Funny." Rosie said flatly. "Your auntie Sheila's affairs. You
know she's been hanging around at that club and not coming home
for days? Well, John says she came home with a tattoo on her
lower belly a month or two ago."

"Auntie Sheila? With a tattoo? I've got to see this. What is it?"

"John said it was writing. It looked like 'Property of Darryl',
or something like that. He said she's had her coil removed,
though she's not told him; said he saw a letter in the bin with
her gynae appointment on."

"So what does this mean for you and dad? Are you getting a
divorce too?"

"I don't know honey. We've not been intimate for months now. It's
not that I don't love him..."

"But you're too wrapped up with John?" Bea was getting angry. She
knew her dad had tried with her mum, but Rosie had been too
preoccupied with John's needs, neglecting her husband in the
process, pushing him away without realising it.

"No!" Rosie snapped, "It's just that... I don't know. Lately I've
just been more comfortable with John. Steve just..." She shook
her head and sighed. "It's like I don't know him anymore."

"So you're just giving up on dad?"

"Honey. No. I just need some time to get things straight in my
head. I love your father, Steve, I mean, but John wants us to be
serious. Neither of us wants to hurt your dad, but we can't see a
way around it."

"You want him too then? As soon as his divorce is through, you're
running to him?"

"I don't know honey. I just don't know." Rosie fell back to the
bed, her head buried in the pillow and her shoulders heaving as
she sobbed. Bea rested her hand on her mother's back, then left
the room and pulled the door closed.

Downstairs, Steve was lay on the couch. Nobody had heard him come
in, but he'd heard everything his wife had said. He knew that
Rosie had made up her mind already, despite what she'd told Bea;
she was going to leave him as soon as John's divorce came
through. He'd been upset enough today; this was just another
hurdle he would have to jump. At least he had an ally now; she
may have had her own agenda, but at least he though she would
stand by him if the going got tough.

It was another year before John's divorce happened, he managed to
keep the house and sole custody of his daughter, the Judge had
heard of Sheila's exploits. She was forced to admit her tattoo as
evidence; there was a date below it now, although she wasn't
showing yet. John left the court triumphant, although he
restrained himself from showing too much affection towards Rosie
until they were behind closed doors. Once the door to John's
house was locked, their clothes were ripped off and they rutted
like animals.

Steve and Rosie legally separated six months later; a legal
paternity test admonished him from any further responsibility for
Beatrice, but he vowed to keep in touch with her. They sold the
house; Rosie and Bea moved in with John and Melissa, Steve and
Georgie moved north, away from the gossip and dirty looks that
come with a small-town scandal. Sheila hadn't been heard from
since, although there were rumours which didn't paint her in a
very flattering light.

Beatrice sent an invitation to Steve for John and Rosie's
upcoming nuptials; Steve declined, sending her an invitation for
his and Georgie's the month after. She didn't turn up, he
supposed her mother had told her no. He decided it was for the
best; he missed Bea terribly, but he needed a clean break, and he
felt Rosie's betrayal afresh, every time he saw Beatrice.

Sat in his new lounge, he looked over at Georgie. She looked up
and smiled, crossed the room and sat in his lap, wiggling her bum
as she settled, feeling him rise as she kissed him, her tongue
darting into his mouth, his hand exploring her thighs and
caressing his new wife. She opened her legs, letting him explore
further as she slid backwards on the couch, her head pressing
into the cushions as his finger parted her and his tongue played
with her sensitive clit. She grabbed handfuls of his hair,
pulling him into her as she came, heels drumming on the couch as
she covered his face in her juices.

He moved slowly up her, kissing every inch of her, unfastening
his trousers as he advanced up her pale skin. She tasted herself
on his lips as he kissed her deeply, his cock sliding into her
warmth, she welcomed him with a soft moan which became grunts and
screams, as he pounded her through her second and third orgasms.
He filled her as her nails dug into his back, feeling him explode
inside her.

They lay together in each other's arms on the couch, basking in
their post coital glow. A bead of sweat ran down her back and cum
oozed down her creamy thigh, a long, satisfied sigh escaped her
as she snuggled closer to him. "I love you." She whispered.

"Love you too sweetie." He held her tighter, her bare breasts
pressing into him. She reached down and stroked his softening
penis, smiling as she did. Georgie had got what she wanted, and
she wanted it all to herself; she wouldn't be sharing him with
anyone else, he'd told her as much, he was fed up with the lies
and eventual heartbreak it caused.

He woke to soft snoring, it was two in the morning and Georgie
was fast asleep, her arms still around him. He kissed her
forehead then carried her to bed.

It wasn't quite as easy for Rosie; Beatrice blamed her mother for
the split and refused to call John any form of "Dad." She did
drop the "Uncle." though, preferring to just call him John. Both
Beatrice and Rosie were relieved when Bea was accepted into a
university in the North East; Although she loved her daughter
dearly, it was a welcome break for her.

Tensions in the house were stretched further with Melissa's
search for her mum. Sheila hadn't been seen since her and John's
separation; there had been rumours of her whereabouts, but that
was what they remained. Too young to enter any of the
establishments that her mother used to frequent, Melissa's
searches were mostly fruitless, although a few people recognised
her as "Darryl's Bitch!" from her photo.

John was keeping things together. The sex had dried up; with two
young girls and nowhere for them to escape to now, finding time
alone was a rarity. Plus, Steve had left the company, so he was
working late and returning home tired. He'd booked a trip to
Disneyland in two months, keeping it a secret from Rosie and the
girls; Bea would probably think he was trying to buy her
affection, but Mel had never been, and you're never too old to
see a real-live Disney Princess, "The girls would love it too."
He chuckled to himself.