Isla met the Rowans in the foyer of their home. She spoke quietly.
"Nat's on my phone on the couch. Elle's asleep in her bed. She passed out on stage."
"Passed out?" Adrian asked, concerned.
"She's okay." Isla reassured him. "She didn't have a big fall, but she did have a... well, a dramatic experience, you could say." Isla turned to Emily, "Did you tell him what I told you?"
Emily shook her head, "Not fully, but I've prepared him."
"Damn, you're gonna make me say it again?"
"I thought it would be best if it didn't come from me second-hand. You were the one who was there," Emily urged.
Isla took a deep breath and turned to Adrian. "I went to the mall to see the fashion show and discovered that Elle and Nat were modeling in it.'"
"Modeling?" Adrian asked, surprised. He looked to his wife to see what she knew about it.
Emily shrugged, "It's news to me, too." She turned to Isla. "Does Nat have any answers?"
"She said they worked out a deal for free makeup and clothing from Libertine and Freya if they volunteered."
"Sneaky kids," Adrian admitted. "Elle's always trying to get me to go into Freya with her so that I'll buy overpriced leggings or whatever."
"Anyway, the point is, Elle had three walks up on stage and she looked like she was in worse and worse shape each time she came out on stage. The last time, she was completely strung out. I'm concerned that she was maybe drugged. She ended up—" Isla swallowed the lump in her throat, searching for the right word, "—gratifying herself on stage. Twice."
Even though Isla was concerned for the young girl, as she relived the scene in her mind, she felt her nether region get notably moist. She didn't want to feel it, not if Elle was in trouble, but yet she couldn't help but admit that somehow the scene, in hindsight, was imbued with a strange kind of eroticism.
Emily furrowed her brow in concern. Despite her sureness that Elle shared her same super-orgasmic affliction, as a mother, she couldn't put off the fact that her daughter might have been taken advantage of while she was vulnerable. "We'll have to investigate and make sure nothing happened to her."
"To be fair," said Isla, "Nat did say that they were well taken care of back stage. And Nat herself seems fine."
"That is somewhat assuring," Emily admitted.
"Good," said Adrian.
"Maybe the nerves of being on stage got to her," Isla offered, "but I still don't know what was going through her mind when she stripped off her skimpy bathing suit in front of the crowd and… brought herself to climax."
"Let's not fall all over ourselves getting too clinical," Emily tutted, "We're all adults here, and I think we all understand what happened. You can say masturbate or cum or jilled off or whatever." She looked around at the other two, who both nodded, though they blushed. "Well now, shall we have a chat with Nat?"
They filed into the living room where Nat was watching a phone video of a kid opening birthday toys on her YouTube channel. She was still in the bikini she wore during her final trip down the runway. She had dropped off her shoes on the floor and was kicking her bare feet against the couch as she absent-mindedly watched the video.
"Nat, time to give the phone back to Isla," Emily instructed.
"Okay," she said half-heartedly, but obeyed without any objection. The adults all sat around her, focused. Nat shrank in her seat. "Am I in trouble?" she asked.
The room gave out a snicker and attempted to relax. "No, kiddo, you're not in trouble," said Emily. "We just want to know a little bit more about what happened this afternoon."
"You mean on stage?" Nat clarified.
"Yes," Emily nodded.
"Um, I dunno," the girl replied, matter-of-factly.
"You didn't see what happened with Elle?"
Isla interrupted, "She might not have, she was back stage when it happened."
"I didn't see," Nat confirmed. "After I left the stage, there was a guy there that wanted me to model his company's clothes for his website. He said he was with Velùra! It's going to be so awesome," she said, excitedly dropping the name of the brand, which was hot at her school.
"That's nice," Emily chuckled disinterestedly and followed up with her line of questioning. "Did anything happen to you or Elle back stage before that?"
Nat thought back to what did happen. They had snuck two older boys backstage with them. Nat had fucked the older of the two and Elle had given a blowie to the younger one. Then Elle gave her oral, guzzling the cum from inside Nat's pussy. The two of them had, in fact, been through a lot today. However, she wasn't about to divulge those details with Elle's parents. "No. We just waited in the waiting room they gave us," the girl delivered flatly.
"None of the stagehands tried to touch you?" Adrian prodded further.
"Just when they were putting our makeup on," Nat said, this time truthfully.
"I mean in your private area."
Nat scrunched up her face at the question.
"On your pussy, or tits?" Emily clarified, looking at Adrian. He grimaced and shrugged.
"No. We got dressed ourselves."
Isla chimed in. "Did they give you any drugs?"
Nat giggled at the thought and rolled her eyes. "No!"
"Then why was Elle looking so strung out on stage?" Isla asked, getting visibly frustrated.
By now, the two parents had a good idea just what the answer was—it seemed Elle was not drugged, nor molested, and had only succumbed to another public-facing super-orgasm. Emily cut off Isla's interrogation. "Let's not upset the poor girl. We can assume she's told us all she saw. Isla, I think we can take it from here."
"Fine," Isla resigned herself. "I'm gonna go see if I can salvage my date. I owe him one. He distracted security while I had to drag Elle down off the catwalk and sneak the little minx out of the mall half-naked."
"You didn't get her dressed?" Adrian asked.
"I didn't have time to grab her clothes from back stage! The mall cops were after us and they didn't seem too pleased with the whole incident, so we were in a hurry. But Nat made sure we got everything."
Nat looked proud of herself. "I even got all the new things they promised us," she said with an impish grin, "like my new bikini."
"Get your shoes on," Emily said, all business, "You're going home, too." Nat frowned, but slid off the couch.
As the neighbor girl got to tying her laces, Isla said her goodbyes. Relieved of her guardianship, her attitude softened. "Guess I'll see you on Thursday, Adrian?" she flirted.
Adrian barely caught the hint, "Huh? Oh, yeah. For sure."
"And I'll see you tomorrow at work," Emily winked. It was a wink that was intended only for Isla, but Nat saw it, as well. She watched as the two women embraced lightly and kissed each other on the cheek. A hint of surprise registered on her face when she witnessed them kiss briefly on the lips, but after the weekend, it barely surprised her at all. Then Isla departed.
Emily turned to her husband and said, "I think I'll take this one home."
Nat piped up. "It's okay, I can walk home."
"No Nat, it's fine. Besides, Adrian can take care of our daughter while we're out."
"Okay," Adrian said a little dumbly, "What should I do?"
"Take care of her." Emily repeated.
"Take care… take care?" Adrian asked, picking up on her euphemism. "Now?"
Emily nodded, "Like a good, caring father."
"Okay, um," Adrian fumbled for words, "did you want to… be there, too?"
"This is your moment, honey. Besides, I need to talk to Nat in private."
Adrian cleared his throat. His heartbeat suddenly pounded in his head and if the conversation had gone on any longer, he wouldn't have been able to listen. A big moment was coming. His moment. He was going to fuck his daughter. He was going to cure her of her embarrassing affliction.
Or was he? He still wasn't sure this was right, or that any of Emily's story wasn't just a half-cooked justification for her own history of sordid behavior with their child. "Okay, honey. I— I guess I'll see you in a little while."
Nat stopped tugging at her laces, and remained still, trying to puzzle through what the Rowans were talking about. She sensed a subtext to their conversation, but couldn't discern what they were alluding to. It seemed sexual in nature, though, and after Elle admitted to providing both of her parents with oral sex, Nat's mind wandered in that direction. Still, she wasn't sure. Adults often talked over her head.
Suddenly Emily turned to the girl. "Got your shoes tied?"
"Yes," Nat swallowed, quickly finishing the final knot.
"Alright, let's go."
In the car, the ride was quiet, and Nat began to get nervous. Emily had said that she wanted to talk to her, but now that they were both there, no talking was happening at all. The young girl began to fidget and her hands trembled slightly. Soon they were at her home. The car came to a stop and she reached for the door handle. "Thanks for the ride."
Before she could get out of the car, Emily turned to her and grabbed her thigh firmly, holding her there. The young girl immediately sensed that she was in trouble. She turned to the elder Rowan with concerned, puppy dog eyes.
"Nat," Emily said in a soft tone, "I know that you had sex with my husband last night."
Nat's heart thudded in her chest. She knew it must have been her night-shirt that had given it away. Adrian had discarded it once he had stripped her of it that steamy evening. After the two of them had climaxed, both her mind and body were exhausted and she lost track of the shirt until she spied Emily sporting it—along with Elle's panties—the next morning as she rode her husband. Nat was completely devoid of excuses and couldn't say anything. Tears welled on her eyelids.
"Nat, you're Elle's friend…" Then Emily added, "and I'd like to think you're my friend, too, but Adrian is my husband. You cheated with him when you fucked him."
Nat winced at the f-word. It seemed so much harsher to her ears when she was in trouble. Emily continued. "Most women wouldn't take kindly to that. I know you're very young, and you have a lot to learn about life and how your body exists in it. If you want to run around like a nymphomaniac, that's fine. That's your choice. I'm not going to judge you for that."
Nat hung her head in shame. She didn't like being called out as some kind of pervert. A tear streaked down her burning cheek.