Well lets put it this ... way ... er,” she stuttered, her eyes fluttering and sweeping over my sturdy structure, back to my crotch. “Will you let ...e fuck you then?”Fuuurrrck! Just like that, straight out. She grasped my hand, dragging me indoors to a bedroom at the back of her very old fashioned bungalow. In there she just started taking off her clothes. Nodding and smiling I should do the same. I stripped my T shirt off but she stopped me, coming and ripping my jeans down. I don’t wear. Then there was but a simple “Yes…”“All right then… Sandra, now tell me… did you fuck another man last night?”“Yes…”“Did you fuck other men when you travel?”“Yes…”“Did you fuck a man EVERY night you traveled?”“Yes…”Did you ever use condoms?”“No…”“How are you not pregnant?”“I have… a diaphragm…”“Now the big one Sandra… why?”“Because I didn’t have you…”Are you fucking k**ding me?It took me a while to bring my rage back under control. I got up and paced the house for maybe an hour before returning. I know what you’re doin’,’ and I froze in my tracks. ‘Xander, I’m sorry,’ I muttered, as his shadow fell over me, ‘I know I said I wouldn’t but…SHE WAS OUR DAUGHTER, goddamn it!’ ‘Come on, then,’ he said gently, coming down the stairs to meet me. He took my hand and led me down the last two steps into the root cellar. He was nude and smelled of mint, having just showered, this glorious man for whom I’d long ago given up my so-called life in New York and come out to the flat plains of the. ’ ‘I paid for it out of my own stash. It’s confidential. What’s the harm?’ ‘The harm is they might find out about us being brother and sister.’ She gave me a playful punch in the arm and we both laughed. I immediately felt better. That report had to be mistaken. I’d tell the girls the test kit was lost in the mail and make it up to them somehow. I soon forgot about the whole thing. Two weeks later I was served with divorce papers and a restraining order. There had been a police report filed.