Angela and Pamela, or Princess and Pancake [END]

"Sure I miss having him around sometimes," Peggy said. "Yeah. His dick. But I think we're all happier with Samuel as Professor Uncle Daddy Sam. And, ha, both me and Samuel ended up with bigger dick at home. I got you and Sam got his big-dicked grad student Marcel. Still has him. So Samuel and I didn't have to fight over yours. I guess dick put me and Samuel together, and dick split us up. God, is it sixteen years now? Anyway, you want a warm-up?"

Peggy held up the glass globe carafe in Gary's direction. Their kitchen was a mishmash of secondhand commercial equipment that Peggy had added to over time, and their coffee maker was an ancient percolator from the beach-side diner where Peggy had worked until she had gotten her airbrush art business off the ground. The house also had a set of professional hairdressing tools, including a sit-down helmet style hair dryer, from Peggy's other job.

"Sure," Gary said. He held up a chipped old stoneware mug.

Peggy leaned over to pour, her breasts barely restrained by her low-cut nightshirt. They hung lower and softer after Pancake and Princess had had their way with them, but Gary loved Peggy's body as much as ever. Soft, warm, abundant and hungry for touch. Peggy noticed Gary's gaze and wiggled her shoulders.

"I get grabby about dick," Peggy said. "My sister is a lot better at sharing."

Peggy and Gary grinned at each other. Sandy's husband Peter was a frequent sexual guest star in their bed, his high libido and quick recovery letting Peter shoot a load in at least three of Peggy and Gary's five fuckable holes in an evening. Four with an encore if Peter stayed overnight.

Angela stepped into the kitchen and hugged her mom from behind. "Morning, moms," she said, and gave Peggy a kiss on the cheek. With deep golden skin and dark curly hair, tall and long-limbed at nineteen, Angela Davis Wise was her father Samuel's daughter. "Morning, Daddy Gary."

"Morning, Princess," Gary said. "You all packed to go?"

"For days, daddy," Angela said.

With Angela looking over Peggy's shoulder, her long arms wrapped around her mom, the resemblance shone from mother and daughter's faces. Laughing eyes, an intense gaze. One pair green, one blue.

"Where's Pancake?" Gary asked.

"Asleep. Where else?" Angela said. "She was still packing when I went to bed. "Can you do my hair before we go?"

"Sure thing, we've still got plenty of time," Gary said. "But I better go check on Pancake."

Peggy was too busy, Samuel had been too impatient, or all wrapped up getting academic tenure, and so Gary had learned to be the twins' home hairdresser, with help from Sandy and Lil for Pancake's golden haystack of snarls and tangles, and pointers from Peggy and from Samuel's sister for Princess's unruly curls.

Pancake, true to her nickname, was sprawled face down across her bed. Her worn-out, washed-to-transparent nightshirt and panties were in a twist, half on and half off, not really covering anything they should.

Not that Pancake cared if her lady bits were hanging out. Or her lady business. A round-handled hairbrush lay on the sheets by her legs, its scent betraying that the handle had most recently been the business end.

"Morning, Pancake," he said softly in his daughter's ear.

Twenty years ago, Peggy had been bellowing out an orgasm, her pussy contracting around Gary and Samuel's spurting cocks, and fortune had planted their seed and brought precious Pamela Pancake and Princess Angela into his life.

"Morning, Daddy Coffee Breath," Pamela murmured.

"You all packed and ready to go, Pancake?"

"Yes, Daddy. You want to come get me at ten?"

Gary laughed. "Nine," he said. "I have to brush out your hair. But not with this hairbrush." He picked it up by the bristle end and wrinkled his nose.

Pamela giggled. "Oopsie, guess not," she said. "Later Daddy."

When the time came, Pamela handed her father the same hairbrush, the round wooden handle damp, freshly washed. Gary took it with raised eyebrows. Pamela grinned. Gary couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.

"Tee-hee," Pamela said. "All my other brushes are packed."

Gary stood behind Pamela as she sat at the mirror and started brushing out his daughter's hair.