That idea seemed to genuinely surprise my wife. “What? THEM? I… no. No, I don’t think… I mean, it’s not like we… noooo. No way. Since they were sixteen, BOTH of them have always shown a healthy interest in MEN. Not even a hint of Sappho in them. At least, I don’t think…” She shook her head as though to clear away some cobwebs. “No, honey. I don’t think our daughters are lesbians.” She sat there quietly for a moment and shrugged. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt if they were, though.”
I clucked. “Yeah, but… no grandchildren, if they are.”
My wife looked down at me archly. “A lesbian woman is perfectly capable of having a child without bringing a man in the picture, you know.”
“Not directly, no,” I allowed. “But I stand corrected on the broader point. Yes, if they’re lesbians, it doesn’t preclude the possibility of them having children at some point.” Then I added. “But it certainly isn’t as LIKELY anytime soon, is it?”
Marie bit her lip as she thought some more about it, then she looked down at her crotch, which was still leaking some of my cum. “I’m gonna go clean myself up,” she announced. “You go ahead and get some sleep. Love you,” she added as she bent down to give me a quick kiss goodnight and then skipped off for the bathroom, naked as a jay-bird. I rolled over and went to sleep, giving the conversation no more thought. Sleep, especially after having had really good sex with my wife, came to me quickly and I slept so hard that I didn’t even notice her joining me back in bed.
——————
I woke up the next morning and found that Marie had already gotten up. It was a Saturday, which meant no work and no worries. Nothing planned for that day at all. I glanced at my cell phone, which was perched in its charging base on the bedside table next to me and saw that it was 8 AM. Pulling on some boxer briefs, I immediately made for the bathroom to take a leak and have a quick shower (something I normally would’ve done the night before, but was too tired to do after having sex with Marie). Feeling refreshed and awake, I got out of the bathroom and the distinct smell of bacon filled my nostrils. While not unheard of, home-cooked breakfasts were a rarity in the house, but always welcome. I threw on some sweat pants and went upstairs to see what was going on in the kitchen. Walking in through the kitchen door, I noticed my wife standing in front of the stove, humming softly and going through the motions of getting our first meal of the day prepared. All she wore, however, was an apron. And that’s it. I snuck up behind her and wrapped my arms lovingly in an embrace as I kissed her neck and rubbed my clothed groin into her backside.
“Woo!” she yelped and jumped slightly. When she realized that it was me, she immediately calmed down. “And good morning to you!” she said cheerfully.
“Good morning,” I mumbled into the softness of her neck. “Smells amazing in here,” I said. “But what’s with this getup? The girls leave early or something?”
She wiggled out of my embrace to pour off some of the bacon grease into the sink. “Nope,” she said breezily. “They should be out here in a few minutes, actually.”