So far, this summer has been a whirlwind of discovery and emotion.  It all started with a dead vibrator. I borrowed one of my mom’s, only to find out it was a copy of my dad. From there, things got crazy. I became obsessed with finding out if the replica was really a copy of my dad’s cock. A lucky view of him in the bathroom one night confirmed it. But my obsession had now grown beyond curiosity. I want to know if it felt the same as the replica. After a few daring, risqué decisions on my part, I can say the real thing was wayyy better.

Then came the family reunion. What a cluster that turned out to be. I found out my mom and my uncle were having an affair, and had been since before Becky and I were born.  Then, Becky and I found out that we are actually half-sisters and that my dad isn’t really my dad, but my Uncle Thaddeus is actually my biological father. The silver lining is that Daddy doesn’t have to feel guilty about what he and I do now. I know he felt bad giving in to my persuasion, but it was MY persuasion. No, I didn’t force him into it, but I made a logical argument that he agreed to, and it spiraled from there.

So now, everything is out in the open. Only my sister, Tatum, is in the dark.  Things have been relatively normal, at least on the surface. If you’re aware of what’s going on behind the scenes, then things look much different, but nobody would know any different looking in. So everyone was surprised when Mom came home one day and dropped a bomb on the family.

“I’m moving out,” she announced, like it was just a normal thing to say. “Thaddeus and I are going to get a place closer to work.”

“What about Tatum?” I interjected; until now, she had not been involved in this scandal. This would throw her right into the middle of it.

“We have to figure that out yet. Before school starts, our place is not in the same district.”

Dad huffed, always one to bite his tongue when he was upset. He got up and walked away to the garage.

“What are you going to tell Tatum? She…this is going to tear her apart,” I asked, glaring at her.

“I’ll think of something,” she replied.

“Well, Heather,” I purposely used my mother’s given name to show my disapproval of how she was handling the situation, “I think you should tell her the truth.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s up to you,” she growled back. She glared at me intensely. I opened my mouth, was about to say more, but instead just turned on my heel and walked away.

I went to my room and called Becky. “Hey, do you still have that extra DNA test?”

“I do. Why? What are you planning?”

“I want to test Tatum.” Silence greeted me from the other end of the line. “Hello? Did I lose you?”

“No, I’m just shocked. I thought you didn’t want to involve her any more than she had to be?”

“Can you bring it over? I’ll explain, I promise.”

“Yeah, just give me a few; sounds like my dad just pulled in. Kiss.” And with that, she hung up. If her dad was home, I might have less explaining to do than I thought.

Becky arrived an hour and a half later. She did not knock at the front door; she let herself in, came straight to my room, and closed the door just light enough not to be considered a slam. Her face was red, and I knew she knew.

“Of all the no good, low-down, dirty…” she growled angrily and trailed off.

“Deep breath, Becks,” I instructed. “So now you know why I wanted the test?”

She shook her head vigorously. “And I don’t blame you.”

“You don’t know the other half of it,” I started. Becky looked at me, waiting for me to continue. I told her how the conversation went down at our house.

“Slimy,” she stated when I was finished.

“That’s accurate,” I agreed. “I’m gonna call my sister in; you good?”

Some of the anger and disgust left her face, and she began to calm down. “Yeah, I’m good.”

I walked across the hall to my sister’s room. She had gotten home about thirty minutes before Becky arrived. “Hey, Tater,” I called, using my nickname for her. It was partly a play on her name and partly from an old Ron White joke I’d heard once, and yes, I would call her Tater Tot. “Could you come to my room for a few?”

“Sure thing, Sissy,” she responded with her standard address for me.

Once back in my room, I closed the door.  “We need to talk, woman to woman.”

“What’s up?” She tried to look more grown up, standing taller and setting her face. She had only turned thirteen a couple of weeks ago, but ‘she was a teenager now,’ and she tried her best to act mature.

I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to tell my sister what I was about to. But it was only fair that she knew the truth. Something I hadn’t thought of earlier; it served as payback to my mother for her talk with my dad.

“Mom is moving out.” It was blunt; it was direct, but I wasn’t sure how else to approach it.

She looked at me deadpan. No shock, no tears, no outburst. Just nothing, as if I had told her I had taken out the trash. “Tatum?” I asked with concern.

“I heard you,” she said flatly.

“And?”

“And I’m not surprised. I knew something was up. I know I’m young, but I’m not stupid. I see, I hear. I knew something was going on, but I wasn’t sure what, and I was waiting to see who was going to tell me.”

“I didn’t want it to be me,” I stated, my heart thumping nervously in my chest.

“I’m glad it was.” That eased my tension. “Are you going to tell me everything? What happened?”

I laid it all out for her. Mom and Thaddeus’ secret relationship, the pregnancy, marriage, the affair, the family reunion, Becky and I being half-sisters, and everything leading up to today.

“So, you and Becky are half-sisters, and you and I are half-sisters,” she said, half-stating, half-asking.

“Well, that’s something we want to verify. I want to give you a DNA test,” I said, approaching the concept carefully.

Tatum nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Becky stepped up. “Open up,” she requested as she brought the swab to Tatum’s mouth. “You’re being very mature about this.”

“She’s doing much better than you did, Becks. You were ready to fight the world.”

Becky looked at me disapprovingly. “Well, not everyone can be you, Ginny.”

Now it was my turn to look disapprovingly, as it was a nickname I never took to, though many use it. Tatum started giggling.

“What’s so funny, Tater?” I asked

“You two, bickering like sisters,” she stated like it was the most obvious thing. We all chuckled then.

“You really are taking this better than I expected,” I offered, holding Tatum’s hand.

“I knew something was up; I’m sure it’ll hit me different at some point, but for now, I don’t know. I don’t know what I should feel. Anger? Sadness? Disgust?” She looked at me with questioning eyes.

“All the above?” Becky interjected.

“All the above.” I agreed.

Tatum hung her head a moment, then looked back up at me. “So what does this mean for our house? Our Home? Our lives?”

“At least that one was easy for me; I’m staying with my Mom,” Becky offered.

“Well, I can do what I want. You may not get a choice, though. A lot will depend on what the test shows. Would you rather we didn’t send it?”

“No. I want to know. I need to know.” She looked at me now, her resolve showing the first signs of breaking. “No offense, Becky, Uncle Thad is nice and all, but he’s not Daddy.”

“I’m not offended, Tot,” Becky reassured, using my moniker for her. “I totally get it.”

Tatum looked up at me as a tear broke free from her eye. “I don’t want to be without Daddy.”

I pulled her close to me and hugged her against my chest. “I know what you mean. I will do anything I can to help.”

Over the next two weeks, Tatum came to me several nights, looking for comfort. She would fall asleep on my bed as I held her and stroked her hair. Ultimately, she was still handling it well, but I could see the torment behind her façade.

At the end of the second week, Mom finally approached her and told her she was moving out. I sat on the stairs and listened in, wondering how she was going to approach it.

“Why?” Tatum interrogated, like she didn’t already know.

“It’s just work and stress, and things with your father and me haven’t been going well. I just think it’s for the better,” Mom said, boldly lying.

“Oh,” Tatum said flatly. “It has nothing to do with you and Uncle Thad having sex?”

I heard my mother gasp as silence filled the room. I covered my mouth to stifle a laugh as a grin broke across my face. I have never been so proud of my little Tater Tot.

“You…I…uh…where did you hear that?” Mom stumbled.

“I’m not stupid, Mom. I have eyes.”

I could almost hear her deflate. “Yes. You’re Uncle Thad and I are moving in together.”

My phone buzzed then; the test results were in. I opened the app and checked what it said. I stood and went to the kitchen where Mom and Tatum were still talking.

“You BITCH!” I interrupted. Mom and Tatum both turned to look at me, shocked.

“Gina, we’ve been through this,” Mom protested.

“NO, we haven’t,” I said, thrusting the phone in her face.

“You told her.” It wasn’t a question, so much as a statement, an accusation. “It wasn’t your place!”

“Well, it’s only fair. Now, explain this.” I kept the phone in her face. Mom looked at it, looked at me, looked at Tatum, then turned away.

“What is it, Gina?” Tatum asked pleadingly.

I looked at her apologetically. “Thaddeus is your father.”  All her strength left her, and she began to cry.

“Are you happy, Virginia?” Mom bellowed.

“Don’t put this on me. This was your doing,” I answered back.

Mom stood there shaking, with anger or emotion; I’m not sure which. “Tatum…” she began.

“NO! I won’t leave Daddy! Thaddeus is not my father!” Tatum jumped up and ran out of the room.

“Are you happy, Mother?” I asked the question, but did not wait for a response. I ran upstairs after Tatum.

I found Tatum in my room, lying on the bed and holding a stuffed bear I’d had for as long as I could remember. She was sobbing quietly as I came in and sat next to her on the bed. I placed my hand on her hip.

“Are you OK?” I asked, knowing how stupid the question was.

She sat up and hugged me. “I hate her.”

“I know exactly how you feel. I felt the same way. It’s not fair to us. It’s not fair to Daddy. He thought he had two daughters. Now he has to face the reality that he has no children.”

“I’m his, I don’t care what anybody says!” she proclaimed defiantly.

“Yes, you are,” I said with a smile. “Yes, you are.”

Tatum rested her head in my lap and fell asleep. I dozed, my hand absently stroking her hair, when I heard my parents' voices downstairs. Clearly, Mom had informed him of the new development. The voices became inaudible as I strained to hear the conversation. It was fruitless.

About thirty minutes had passed when there was a knock at my door. I instantly recognized it as my father. “Come in,” I granted.

My father stepped in; the tears he had been crying were no longer falling, but the evidence was clear. “How’s she doing?” he asked, motioning to Tatum.

“She’ll be OK. She’s tough, like her Daddy.” I gave him a wink.

He smiled at me. “I won’t give up if they try to take her away.”

“I know you won’t.”

“Daddy?” Tatum stirred in my lap, looked up, and nearly pounced on the man she would always call father. He held her tightly as she flung her arms around his neck and squeezed him hard enough to make his face change color. He did not stop her. He would have rather died than break her embrace.

She released him and kissed his cheek. He hid his lack of oxygen well, and as the color began to return to his face, he spoke. “For now, you’re going to stay here. When school starts, you’ll be staying with your Mom. You’ll be with me on any non-school day unless previously agreed upon.”

“But why do I have to stay with her?”

“She will be living in a different school district.”

“It’s not fair!” Tatum pouted, the mature woman she had portrayed replaced by the young teen she really was.

“I know it’s not, Sweetie. But it’s the most fair idea we could do without getting into a big legal battle. And in a few years, you’ll have more say in the decisions that shape your life.” He offered her a smile. It was weak, but it was genuine.

Tatum looked at him for a moment, then threw her arms around him again. “I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, both of you,” he said, putting his hand on my leg.

Mom moved out that weekend. The house was the most peaceful it had been since everything came to light.

It was Tatum’s last full week of freedom before school started back up again. For me, classes had already started, but I had decided to stay at home and commute this semester. I returned home to an empty house. I brought my bag of groceries in and set them on the counter, where I found a note from Tatum.

Spending the weekend with Chrissy, Dad said it was OK.

Be back Sunday night.

Love you, Tatum.

My heart fluttered at the thought of Daddy and me having the house to ourselves. I quickly put the groceries away and began dinner. When Daddy arrived home, I was setting dinner on the table. I had changed into a white sundress with red strawberries.

“That smells amazing,” he said as he entered the dining room. The look on his face was priceless as he took in the simple table setting, the dimmed lights, a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket, and a single candle burning in the middle of it all. “What’s all this?”

“Our first night to ourselves,” I answered, my tone thick with intent. 

He came over, hugged me firmly, and kissed my forehead. “Thank you, this looks wonderful.”

We sat down and ate, the mood close and intimate. The conversation was quiet and light.

“How’s Becky doing? I haven’t seen her for a few days,” he asked with genuine concern and curiosity.

“She and Aunt Pipi are in Virginia Beach.” I sipped my wine as he cocked an eyebrow at me.

“Really. HMM.”

“Yeah, something about girl bonding and Aunt Pipi shedding the remains of her past.”

“Well, good for them. They need a little time away. They deserve it,” he stated, and he couldn’t be more right.

We finished dinner with small talk about school and fall plans, then he helped me clear the table.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make anything for dessert,” I apologized.

“Oh Sweetie, you did plenty, and it was delicious.” He wrapped me in a hug and kissed me, slow and passionately. There was no underlying rush, no time constraints, no stolen moments. Just him and me, getting lost in the moment we had longed to share.

He kissed my neck, his lips as soft as velvet, making goosebumps rise on my neck and arms. His hands traced the curves down my body as he kissed along my arms and sides. He paused when his face was directly in front of my pussy. My heart beat rapidly; my breathing came in hitches, the heat between my legs radiated furiously. Sliding his arms between my legs and cradling my back with his hands, he lifted me effortlessly and placed me on the center island. I leaned back, knees still hooked in his arms as he realized I had not worn panties.

A hungry smile spread across his lips. “I see you did have dessert planned.”

I giggled, a delightful laugh that turned into a moan as he spread my legs a little further, giving him full access to my ass and pussy. He placed my legs over his shoulders before placing his hot wet tongue flatly against the small strip of skin between my two waiting holes. He slowly circled his tongue around my asshole before sliding his tongue all the way from the edge of my crack to the top of my hood. When he reached the top, he repeated every step: circle, press, lick.

My body was spasming in reaction. Was it the technique? The freedom? The fact that we were in the kitchen and I was splayed upon the island? Maybe it was all three. But I had no time to consider the cause as he drove his tongue deep inside me, licking and sucking at the creamy fluids that had begun to flow as he was still trailing kisses down my arm.

He continued, swirling his tongue around my cervix, causing my body to shudder. “Mmm, so tasty,” he breathed as he licked towards my clit, making firm circles around it before sucking it into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue.

I gasped at the sensation; he stopped and looked at me, smiling. “Oh, God, please don’t stop,” I begged as I pulled his head back toward my throbbing flower. He sucked my clit back in between his teeth, flicking with his tongue, as he eased two fingers into my moist depths; one finger massaging my cervix, the other massaging my G-spot.

“Oohhh!” I moaned as Daddy skillfully built my need for orgasm until I was rocking against his face, fingers grasping at anything they could find purchase on. My need for release is cresting as the...