A Second Encounter

"Why is your dang, fool daughter standing out there in the yard?" Doris Simmons asked, looking out of her darken second-story bedroom window across the yard at the side of the house.

"How come when she got a promotion at the Dairy, she was your daughter?" her husband Emmett asked from their bed. "But when she does something you disapprove of, she's my daughter?"

"Well, the gal has to be at work six o'clock in the morning," Doris replied, still staring out the window. "It's after eight now. And she's just sitting on that old bench next to the oak tree. Wearing her night gown and robe. And gazing up at the stars."

"Maybe she's carrying on a family tradition," Emmett answered, throwing back the covers and crawling out of the bed to join his wife by the window. Draping his arm around her shoulders, he asked, "Remember what we used to do before we got married?"

In the darkness he was unable to see her blushing. After a few moments of silence, she said, "Well, that had better be all that she is doing."

"It is," he assured her.

Turning her head towards her husband, she asked, "How can you be so certain?"

"Because, my dear," he gave her shoulders a squeeze. "You are not the only one who has looked out this window."

It was then that a figure appeared out of the darkness. Walking towards the tree. Emily jumped up from the bench and ran to greet the person. They fell into each other's arms, kissing passionately, groping wildly. In a little while, they headed over towards the bench, continuing their smooching once they were seated.

"I knew it," Doris said, "It's that Thomas boy."

"I would hope so," Emmett answered. "I'd hate to think our daughter was seeing two boys. . . Come on, let's get in bed."

"Wait a minute," she shrugged his arm off. "I wanna be sure that all she is doing is . . ."

Her voice trailed off, but her husband finished the sentence for her. "What you used to do to me. Every evening I had to walk three miles to get my evening milking."

"Oh, you," she elbowed her husband in the side. "Was that the only reason you came over?"

"That, and the fact that you were about the prettiest thing I'd ever laid my eyes on." He paused. "And you sill are."

"Pshaw," she scoffed, but was secretly flattered. However, before she could continue the conversation, she saw her daughter's hands busy in Roger Thomas's lap. In the pale light of the quarter moon, she could see her daughter hauling out her boyfriend's erection. As the young couple resumed their kissing, the young Emily pumped up and down on Roger's cock.

"There. Satisfied?" Emmett asked as he headed back to bed. Upon crawling back in under the covers, she saw that his wife was still standing by the window. "Now what are you doing?"

"I just want to make sure that all she is going to do with him is . . . you know," she answered, not looking away from the scene down below.

About twenty minutes later, just as Emmett was drifting off to sleep, their bedroom was flooded with bright lights while a loud, mechanical whine entered through the window. Jumping out of bed, he ran to the window to see a large, silver-colored disc hovering over the oak tree that was off to the side of the house.

Roger had already spilled his load from Emily's manipulations, and he was in the process of rearranging his clothing when he and she were bathed in the intense light. They tried looking up at it, but the ring of lights under the craft was too intense. All they could do was squint and hold their forearms over their faces.

In a little more than a minute, the lights snapped off and the object darted away.

Emmett and Doris ran downstairs and out into the yard, rushing towards the dazed young couple. Doris clasped her daughter to her, her hands stroking the sides of her face and asking if she was alright. Emmett merely nodded at Roger, saying his name as a greeting.

There was much discussion about what they had seen. What it could mean. Finally, Doris suggested everyone go inside to the kitchen where she could make a pot of coffee. As they sat around the sturdy wooden table, continuing the discussion, Emily asked, "Pa, aren't you gonna call the Sheriff?"

"And have him think that all four of us have lost our minds?" he answered. Leaning forward on his elbows, he said, "No. I think it's best we just don't say anything about this to anyone."

"I agree," Doris piped in as she poured coffee for everyone. "You don't tell your folks, Roger. And Emily, don't say anything to any of the other workers at the Dairy tomorrow."