The final step.
Sheila drove up about an hour later. She walked through the house and put various packages on the table, seeing her mother’s robe on the floor, and her nightdress on the other chair and a small pool of fluid that she recognised on the kitchen bench. Her mother had left that behind after Peter had left it in her. They had been busy.
She knew what had happened, and could guess what was still happening. Peter was relentless in everything he did, as she had discovered that Friday.
There were two pairs of wellingtons by the back door, both with wet mud on them, and the two shirts from the drier sitting on top of it. They had been worn to do the calves, and had calf hair and other stains on them, along with Peter’s shirt from this morning and his shorts and underwear.
She knew what at least one of those stains was, on the shirt her mother had been wearing. More of it! She’d learned a lot about that character of stain in the last few days. That, was from Peter, and Sheila felt comforted by the thought that she, herself, still carried some of that with her now, within her own body, and would always be carrying some of it wherever she went for most of the rest of her life, and so would her mother, now.
She smiled. The devils!
The shower was running upstairs, and she heard voices.
She knew what was happening even then as she put her coat to one side along with the car keys and headed quietly for the stairs, knowing what she would be walking into.
The bathroom door was open, and her mother and Peter were standing in the bath in each other’s arms, close together, partially hidden by the shower curtain, but some things could not be hidden. They were very close together. Intimately close, with her mother held very close to him and on her tiptoes. They were laughing, and kissing, speaking gently to each other as lovers do, and touching each other in the same way. Her heart sang to know that her mother was now as happy as her daughter was.
She walked in and listened to what was happening, hoping that her presence would not be detected too soon.
Considering the noises she could hear, she knew she wouldn’t be noticed. They would both have their eyes closed at that most critical of crucial moments, concentrating on breathing, and holding, and pushing, with Peter on the edge of coming again. She should have stayed outside of the door for another few minutes, except it was interesting to be able to look in on what was happening for a change.
She gave them time to come down from those heights as they mumbled all of the usual sounds into each other’s ears. She eased off her slippers, quietly took off the rest of her clothes, unclasped her bra, peeled off her panties, and decided that now was as good a time as any. She poked her head around the shower curtain and spoke.
“Is there room for a conference of three in there?”
Peter smiled and spoke. "You are back at last. I thought I heard the car door. You timed it beautifully, my love. Operation 'impregnation' has been well subscribed in its first stages; oversubscribed I would say, with about 4 million contestants so far, and we are well on our way to repeating it each weekend after this."
He looked at Brenda, who seem confused and lost, but would not be that way for long.
"The only secret, my other special and most cherished love, was that Sheila and I concocted all of what happened last night and this morning, after we retired last night, but we had to keep you in the dark about it so that Sheila could work on you this morning and persuade you to join me, by threatening to get pregnant herself."
They helped Sheila in with them. "By the way, Sheila. I am going to commit bigamy. Somehow, we three are getting married!"
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