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A father/son sex story.

He too wore jeans, but he was barefoot and his red plaid work shirt was open and untucked. He didn't appear to have shaved, as a shadow of dark stubble covered his lip, cheeks, and chin.

"Deke," Hannah croaked, fighting back her tears.

"Hannah," Deke said through the screen, "I don't think we have anything to say to each other."

"Please!" Hannah cried, her tears spilling. "Let me explain, Deke." When the door closed, Hannah fell to her knees and folded her hands on her lap. Her head hung and she cried.

When the door opened again, Deke looked down on Hannah and said, "You've been sitting there for more than three hours, Woman." She looked up with dry eyes, her tears failing an hour before. "Don't you have any pride?"

"Not anymore," Hannah answered. "I need to explain, Deke. Even if you never talk to me again, I owe you an explanation, and you owe me the courtesy of hearing me."

The screen door opened and Deke stepped outside. He took a seat on a big, homemade wooden chair and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He didn't say a word, only watched her get up and stand in front of him, wringing her hands.

"Before we talked, I was lonely, Deke. All of the men in town think I'm a whore, and I'm not, but that was what they expected from me. I couldn't date, and I certainly couldn't play around."

"Then, Art Jacobs moved to town, and we got to be friendly. He's not the prettiest man, and he and I, well, we came to an agreement. He didn't have feelings for me, and I definitely do not have any feelings for him, but we agreed to get together whenever the ache got to be too bad, you know?"

"I've only been with him a few times, really. It doesn't mean anything, and I was going to tell him the agreement was over because I was being courted by you, but I didn't see him to tell him. Then he came by and I don't know what he told you, but I swear to you, Deke, I'm not lying to you, and I never will."

Hannah watched Deke watch her, afraid to move, let alone speak again. He sat back and took a deep breath, and after a few minutes he leaned forward again.

"Who's Amanda's daddy?" he asked, and Hannah's shoulders slumped and her hands dropped to her sides.

"I can't tell you that, Deke," she said, her eyes downcast. "I will, I promise, but I can't tell you right now. For that you have to trust me." When he didn't say anything after a minute, Hannah said, "He isn't Art Jacobs."

"Why can't you tell me, Hannah?" Deke asked simply.

"Amanda's father and I went out exactly one time, but I thought I was in love and that he loved me. Amanda came from that one date, and I cherish my baby girl more than the world, Deke. I'm afraid that if his family found out, they'd take her away from me."

"When do you plan on telling him?" Deke asked, seeming more curious than angry then.

"He knows," Hannah said softly. "He doesn't want anything to do with me or her, but his family, well, they're important. We made a deal that when I got married he'd sign the papers so Amanda could be adopted by her new, her real daddy."
"Why'd you come here, Hannah?" Deke asked. "I know I have a nice house in the country and a good business and all," he paused, and the pause dragged out.

"Deke Slade," Hannah said softly, "every woman in town is after you. I've always been sweet on you too, but I never once chased after you, and you know it." She looked into his brilliant green eyes and whispered, "I'd never think I had a chance with you if you hadn't come after me."

"Are you crazy?" Deke said, laughing incredulously. "You've always been the prettiest girl in this whole county, and there isn't a man or woman alive who'd argue with me. I've gone plum crazy wanting you for most of my life, even when it wasn't, er, appropriate or legal!"

"But do you forgive me?" Hannah asked, beginning to shake again.

"You bring Amanda over for dinner next Saturday night and we'll talk, alright? I don't trust myself right now."

Hannah kissed him then, pressing her lips to his in a fast, passion-filled kiss, and then turned and s

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