This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, events, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. All characters are over the age of 18.
Hello again. Just a heads up, this story features adult child/parent incestual sex and partner sharing/swinging. If that is not your jam, then please move on to greener pastures. This ordinarily wouldn’t be mine either, but comments on a forum thread on the subject got me thinking and I decided to cross that line. And I figured if I was going to cross that line, I was really gonna DO it. This is a family affair. Meet the Robinsons.
Pretty Please
Tim would have bet money that he had the most unusual family. But recently his new fiancé Kayla had made him realize that those odds weren’t as good as he’d thought.
———–
Kayla cleared her throat. “So, babe … there are … some things I think I should tell you about my family.”
Tim glanced briefly at his new fiancé as he drove. “We’re twenty minutes from their door. You’re bringing this up now?”
Kayla smiled abashedly. “Well yeah. It’s kinda hard to talk about. So, I’ve been … procrastinating.”
Tim frowned. “All right, I’m listening.”
She rubbed her arm absently. “So, umm … my family is wealthy.”
He glanced at her again. “Well, I sort of figured that. We’re driving to Cocoa Beach. You can’t buy a sandcastle there for less than a half-million.”
Her voice took on an irritated edge. “You looked that up?”
Tim frowned deeply. “As you know, my family has lived here in Florida, between tours, Dikmen Escort for my whole life. So, you’ll forgive this southern yokel, for knowing about where he lives,” he said tersely.
She sighed. “I’m sorry. It’s just that … well … they aren’t just wealthy. They are incredibly, stupidly, absurdly wealthy.”
Tim threw on his directional, pulled into a gas station, and rolled up to a gas pump. After starting the pump, he sat back down behind the wheel and looked at his lovely fiancé. For the ten thousandth time, he was struck by her beauty. Her straight black hair shone in the sunlight.
“Okay, let’s hear it.”
Kayla squirmed in her seat. “My grandfather was a successful businessman. He started a construction company and did very well. Dad followed in his footsteps, building the business, and investing heavily in east coast real estate.”
Tim whistled. Forty years ago, the land was cheap in Florida. But not today.
She looked down at the floorboards. “I didn’t tell you because …”
Tim held up his hand. “Nope, no need to explain. How would you know if my feelings for you are real, or just an act to get a wealthy wife, right?”
When she looked at him there were tears in her eyes. She put her hand gently on his forearm. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know you love me. I know it.”
He couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt, but he did understand. Seeing it from her perspective, it would be a constant doubt in her mind. He leaned over and kissed her tenderly. The gas pump handle clicked shut.
Tim secured the pump and got back in. “So how did you go from that life to being an orthopedic nurse with RB?”
Kayla shrugged. Dikmen Escort Bayan “Mom and Dad raised Coral and me so that we knew that they weren’t raising a couple of useless rich bitches like the Hiltons. We had to get educated and get jobs, move out on our own, and become useful people. Our trust funds don’t kick in until we’re forty-five. Grandpa did the same thing with Dad and my Aunt Lori.”
Tim was impressed. That was a very blue-collar mentality. As Tim pulled his used Toyota out of the gas station, he smiled. “So, anything else I should know about your folks?” In the year he’d known Kayla, she’d been remarkably close-mouthed about her parents. All he knew was that they lived on the east coast and were in real estate. He’d proposed two weeks ago with his family around but hadn’t yet met hers.
Kayla took a big breath before replying. “Umm … yeah. My parents, they’re umm … nudists.”
————
Tim’s parents were the most unlikely pair. His mother was an acrobat and tumbler from Romania. Tim had inherited her lovely Mediterranean skin tone and dark hair. His father was a juggler and clown from Texas. They met and fell in love under the lights and excitement of the Ringling Brothers and Barnum unlike any other woman he’d ever known. Her womanly figure was so different and enticing. He could never get enough.
“Here, I bought these for you,” Kayla smiled as she handed him a black Speedo.
“You’re serious?” Tim replied doubtfully.
“Yes. Put them on. It will help you get more comfortable around my folks because like it or not, tomorrow the clothes come off.”
He rolled his eyes. “Ugh. This has turned Escort Dikmen into a nightmare.”
She watched approvingly as he slid the tiny swimsuit on. Tim’s work in the circus had kept him in terrific shape. He admitted that he’d gotten soft while away at school, but his mother Alina got him quickly back in shape. She insisted that he work out with her acrobats whenever he had the opportunity. “We cannot have you walking around like the rest of these soft American slobi, can we?” She took the obesity problem in the U.S. very seriously.
Tim spied himself in a dressing mirror. “Oh hell. Look at my tan lines. It looks like I’m wearing white shorts under the Speedo.”
To her credit, Kayla didn’t even crack a smile. “Don’t worry about that. We have all week to get some sun on those buns.”
————–
Tim was very self-conscious when they walked through the back door into the sunroom. They walked into the kitchen together where her folks were preparing supper.
“There they are,” Mark said as they walked in. “Hey, you guys look great.”
Kayla smiled and gave her father a kiss on his lips.
Tim blushed a bit. “Thanks. You can thank my …” Tim’s voice faltered a bit when he saw Cookie visibly admiring his body, with a sly smile. “Drill sergeant of a mother. She keeps us all performance ready.”
Cookie came around the island counter. “I’m looking forward to meeting your folks. Do you think they’ll be put off by our lifestyle?”
“I ah … I’m not … sure. Tim said frankly. “Mom is very proud of her body, and I doubt she’d mind very much, but Dad, he’s a bit more modest. Mom keeps him in good shape, but he doesn’t even like to take his shirt off around other ladies in the troupe.” His dad, Cort, had grown up on a Texas cattle ranch, six hundred miles from the nearest beach. “I’m sure Mom could talk him into it, though.”
Cookie smiled and glanced at her husband. “Yes, we usually can.”