My Two Mothers

The doctor cleared her throat before announcing the paternity of little Charlotte Louise Marsh. My father was not the father. The doctor then looked at me and tried her best not to smile when announcing I was the father of our daughter.

My father gazed at me, jaw dropped and looking absolutely crestfallen. He somehow managed to lift himself up out of his chair, turning his eyes to Candice. "My son?" he whispered, "You've been sleeping with my son?"

"I should have never married you, Brian. I married the wrong Marsh man. When our divorce is complete, I will be marrying the father of my daughter."

"But you... You..."

"You've cheated on me nearly our entire relationship. Want me to name every single woman I know you've been fucking?"

The doctor cleared her throat, handed me the test results, and told Candice she would be back later with the paperwork so I could sign the birth certificate. As soon as she left, Candice unloaded on my father. To say he suddenly seemed very small and old... Without a word of retort, he turned and staggered out of the room. I didn't see him again until the day in court when the divorce was finalised.

"Now it's time, honey," Candice stated. I'd refrained from holding her until my fatherhood was confirmed. Taking her in my arms for the first time, my mother had her camera out as I couldn't hold back the tears. She was so beautiful. I fell in love immediately. I now had three women in my life that I loved with all my heart. "That's your daughter, honey," Candice added softly, "And I promise you that she won't be our only child together."

"She definitely needs a little brother or sister."

"Once I'm capable, we'll start trying straight away. But remember you can't forget your mother too. She'll definitely be taking up my part while I'm busy recovering from giving birth."

"I'm sure I can handle it, sweetheart," Mum assured us both.

Taking her home did lead to changes in our lives. Of course it did. But I threw myself into it with gusto. Nighttime feeds? Did it. Changing nappies? Did it. Getting up just to cuddle her as she cried? I loved every moment. Just keeping my precious little gift alive and breathing? I loved just watching her blue eyes gazing up at me, wondering who the big ugly man was.

Candice was a natural mother, that maternal instinct so many women seemed to have. My mother loved having another baby in the house, and she loved being the doting grandmother. She insisted that I start taking Candice out for dates once she had recovered as she wanted time to bond with her granddaughter once the time was right.

We were all there at the time she took her first steps. We were all there as we heard her first word. She added such joy to our lives that Candice and I didn't hesitate to try for another child as soon as we thought it was a good idea. Mum was supportive and wanted us to have at least two or three more. And she was there every single time Candice and I made love.

The divorce went through easily. I was there by her side as the magistrate made the divorce official. Candice was already wearing my engagement ring on the day. So was my mother. Gathering outside, my father approached us cautiously. Holding Candice by the hand, Mum holding her other one, my father only had eyes for me.

"Why?" he finally asked.

"I should never have forgiven you for what you did to Mum, Brian." The fact I used his name instead of 'Dad' was on purpose. "It was Mum who insisted I have a relationship with you. I would have gladly washed my hands after you broke her heart. But what you did to Candice was worse. Were you ever faithful to her?"

"It was all my idea," Mum added, much to the surprise of my father, "You're a bastard, Brian Marsh. You broke my heart, ruined our marriage, and then you turned your sights on Candice and tried doing the same to her. I loved the idea of our own son making you his unknowing cuckold. Thing is, he's now got what you wanted. The beautiful fiancée who will soon be his wife. A beautiful daughter and hopefully another child on the way soon enough. There'll be a wedding in a couple of months. I'll watch my son married to his love, and we'll become a family."

"You might have kept the material things today, Brian," I added, "But you've lost what's really important. Outsmarted by your ex-wives and own son."

Turning away, we walked out of the courthouse without looking back. That was the last time I saw my father alive.

*****

Epilogue (Candice)

Gazing at my husband as he's surrounded by our three beautiful daughters, I can see how in love they are with him. I don't blame them as he is the centre of their universe. He's a magnificent father, husband, son... A wonderful man.

Charlotte is now eighteen and a beauty in her own right. Although our firstborn, my husband has never had favourites, or done his best not to show it, but there has always been that special bond the pair have shared ever since he held her for the first time in his arms. Watching her grow up from the precocious little girl into the young woman she is now fills the three of us with pride.

We were married before the arrival of our second daughter. It was a beautiful day. A simple ceremony. Madeline was my Maid of Honour. My parents did fly down from further up the coast, and I had to explain the whole story. They were surprised, but once they met with Mark a few times, they adopted him almost like their own son. My relationship with my sister is better nowadays and she was a bridesmaid as well and has since become a wonderful auntie to our three children.

Madeline's friends and sons were all invited too. It was amusing to watch the mother and son dance and not miss the arousal on Madeline's face. When they were about to disappear, I walked over towards her, whispered for her to have fun, and they were gone for at least half an hour. When the pair returned, she handed me her incredibly damp panties and told me her son's cum was currently dribbling down her thighs.

I promised to clean her up later. Yes, we'd started having sex by this stage, finally giving into temptation, but we never had sex without Mark. He was our centre, but he loved watching two of the women he loved most enjoying each other while his cock was buried in one of us. I particularly loved hearing Madeline moan when he was fucking her arse. I'd always been unsure about anal, but seeing his big cock disappear into her tight little arsehole intrigued me.

I gave birth to our second daughter six months after we married, christening her Christine Candice Marsh. Mark has joked more than once about the fact our daughters share the same first letter. I didn't even realise we were doing it until he pointed it out.

Our youngest daughter was born merely eighteen months later, christening her Chloe Madeline Marsh. When we told his mother that our youngest would carry her name, she openly wept, clutching her son tightly, and I knew that she took him home and rode him ragged that night while I nursed our child in the hospital. I certainly didn't mind as I understood Madeline needed her son to herself at times.

While motherhood came naturally to me, and I loved being a stay-at-home mother until our children were all in school, Mark was such a natural as a father, particularly doting on three little girls, I often found myself sitting or standing nearby with tear-streaked cheeks. There is a wall in the hallway of our home covered in photos of him and his daughters. Nothing was too much for him when it came to making them happy.

I still remember the day of Chloe's first day at primary school. Mark took the day off we could take her and pick her up. I still remember how he cried as she walked off into school, this tiny little thing with a big backpack, immediately making friends. Mark was in pieces, and I still have a photo of him being comforted by all the other mothers around him. Since becoming a father, he has become more open with his emotions, and many of the mothers adored him as friends of our daughters became fixtures at our home, and he always treated friends of our daughters like one of his own.

Madeline is now approaching sixty and the sexual relationship between the three of us has slowed down from her side. We still share a bed most nights. My husband is still hot to trot, and my libido is insane at times. Madeline is always willing to have fun even though she has slowed down, but she gets real enjoyment out of watching her son with his wife.

But watching Mark with our daughters, particularly our oldest now that she was of age, did leave me wondering. "Madeline, I have a question," I asked as she sat opposite me at the dinner table, Mark practically holding court with our daughters. Charlotte and Chloe were snuggled to either side of him. Christine was such a tiny thing she was snuggled on his lap.

"What is it, sweetie?"

"We haven't told the girls the truth yet until they're all eighteen. They're not blind, but we've always been careful." That had Madeline looking at me in curiosity. "You don't think it's generational, do you?"

Madeline understood the reference immediately, glancing at her son and granddaughters, the smile on her face forming immediately. "No, sweetheart. My son is their whole world, that's for certain. Any man they meet is going to be compared to him, and no man will be good enough for him when it comes to his daughters. I wouldn't worry about anything else."

"You think?"

"A mother always knows, sweetheart. And I'm not sure he would ever look at them that way. He's in love with you and me in an intimate, physical way. He's in love with his daughters in that he would give his life for them."

"I dread the day Chloe leaves home. I'm not sure what he'll do."

Madeline fixed me with a smile. "I'm sure you'll figure out how to keep him occupied."

I knew our relationship was unusual and that the day we would sit our children down and explain everything could lead to recriminations, accusations and other ramifications. But as I sipped at my coffee and watched my husband and daughters interacting, I couldn't help wondering if it would lead to something else. Something I knew I might just have to accept considering what Mark and his mother shared.

I guess it was just a case of waiting for what happened and dealing with it at the time. Mark glanced my way and smiled. I returned the smile before Charlotte whispered something that made the three girls start to giggle. No doubt it was about his undoubted love for his wife and mother.

Maybe the conversation in the future won't be as bad as I feared.

*****

A/N - There won't be a sequel as I won't be opening any can of worms. The question about it being generational was an idea that popped into my head as the idea of an 'incest gene' amused me...