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Neighborhood Dad

By: LittleHenry



This is a new venture for me. This story is about developing characters and building attachments.

This is not a quick wham-bam sex story. In fact, there is no sex at all in this chapter, but I hope the story still entertains. If you like the story, please cast a vote. 

*

"Hey, Dad!"

"Hi, Dad!"

"What's up, Coach?"

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump.

Thud.

It was an afternoon routine I'd come to rely on over the years. My daughter, Paige, coming into the house after school followed by anywhere from one to five friends. Tromping up the stairs, then the slam of her bedroom door. Usually followed by lots of giggles.

It was the sound of normalcy.

Paige was always an outgoing child, making friends easily, and the group more often than not wound up at our house. Even when her mom became sick -- no, especially when her mom became sick -- the noise meant that everything was as it should be.

Beth and I had planned on three kids, but after Paige was born, Beth's health first became an issue. So while we had only one child, it always felt like more.

"Doesn't all that laughing and squealing drive you crazy?" asked Lori's dad.

"No. I always know where they are."

Lori was Paige's best friend and such a frequent guest that she called me her second dad.

When Beth succumbed to leukemia three years ago, I wondered if the visits might cease. Would parents feel safe letting their teen-age daughters sleep over in the house of a single man? But Beth had been their Brownie troop leader, and I coached their youth league basketball team. After all this time, the girls were part of the family, and I never felt any awkwardness around them.

"Dad, can we order a pizza?"

My study door was open, so she knew it was okay to holler down the steps. When the door is shut, I'm working on a magazine article and don't want to be disturbed.

"Just one? Am I gonna get a slice this time?" I asked, turning from my computer to yell back.

"Okay, I'll get two."

"Oh, and honey --"

"We know, Mr. D," interrupted Lori. "Yours'll have black olives."

Forty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and like Pavlov's dog, my mouth watered. I rose from my seat and headed for the door. It swung in to reveal a beautiful young woman with dark brown hair, green eyes and a sultry mouth that pulled into a smile. I reflexively said hi, then my eyes took a quick peek down at her T-shirt: a modest neckline, but a clingy design showed off perky breasts.

After she answered my greeting, I regained myself quickly and reached for my wallet. "Um, we usually pay up front on my Visa. Do you have a receipt?"

"Uh, what?"

Then I noticed she wasn't carrying pizza boxes -- and that she was wearing shorts that showed off nicely shaped calves.

"You're not the pizza guy, are you?"

She laughed, a regular sound, not the higher giggles of my many daughters. "Wrong on both counts. I'm Miranda, but you can call me Randi."

I smiled until a discomforting thought interjected. I knew all of Paige's friends, so this couldn't be a high school girl. But then again, senior year had just started ... .

"Do you go to East with Paige?"

"Yeah, I do. Just moved here, trying to make new friends."

I realized I was still standing in the doorway like a bodyguard. "Oh, come on in. We were just about to eat."

"Lemme guess, moo goo gai pan and pork-fried rice?"

It was my turn to laugh. I started to close the door behind her when I heard a car approaching.

"Now that would be our pizza guy. Go on up to her room if you want. At the end of the hall."

She headed up the stairs with my eyes following the movement of her firm butt cheeks. Left, right, left, right.

Jesus, Henry, I thought. Get your mind out of the gutter; she's just a kid.

We don't have a dining room, just a small table in the kitchen. The kids seldom eat there with the TV room upstairs. The girls filled plates and headed off, while I came along behind; Dad the Vulture eating what's left.

While refilling my plate half an hour later, feet shuffled down the hardwood hall. I paused while shutting the box as Randi eased into the room. Her earlier shirt had been replaced with a stomach-revealing baby doll crop top.

"Don't close it; I like black olives."

"About time we had someone around here with refined taste," I said with a smile. My eyes were drawn to her belly button, but I forced them down onto my loaded plate.

As she lifted a slice, she said, "Sounds like you do this a lot."

"Hey, not always. Sometimes I cook."

"No, no. I meant have people over. And I can see why -- that upstairs is awesome."

"Yeah, sometimes when we watch movies, I go up there because it's nicer."

"You're a pretty cool dad, Mr. Donaldson."

I chuckled. "Except for that long, clumsy name. Most of the girls call me Mr. D for short. I like short. I insisted on Paige because it was just one syllable. Thought about shortening it to just Puh but I figured that would just confuse her teachers."

She laughed again, that melodic sound, then turned on one bare foot and left. I was surprised to find my face reddening and reminded myself that she had barely turned 18.

Randi was right: the upstairs is awesome. When Beth had trouble making it up and down the steps, I converted the downstairs dining room into our bedroom. There were two small bedrooms and one master bedroom upstairs, so I had a contractor knock out the wall between the two smallest ones to create an entertainment area. It has a 42-inch flat-panel TV, surround sound, sofa, easy chair and beanbag chair. It's no wonder that the girls always want to come to our house.

I make do downstairs with the old gigantic 32-inch Sony picture tube TV that's deeper than it is wide and a recliner. Sometimes I doze off there, and Paige wakes me up to go to bed.

The girls must have been watching some romantic comedy upstairs because I didn't hear any screams like during the horror films. In the relative quiet, and the boring cop show in front of me, my eyes closed.

Paige's soft hand touched my shoulder. "You should go to bed," she whispered at my left side.

I looked up to see my daughter's blonde hair and blue eyes, but was met instead by Randi's green eyes. I jolted sideways in the car, and the remote clattered to the floor.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you," she said, sliding more into view and leaning in to put a hand on my forearm.

I wasn't scared, at least not in the way she meant. No, it was because in my brief nap I'd been sitting by a pool when Randi pulled herself up by the ladder, water dripping off her sun-glistening skin. The dream was a little unnerving itself, then seeing her right there when I awoke made it worse.

And then I noticed that with the way she was leaning forward, her top was drooping slightly. I could see the tops of her breasts, but I couldn't quite see low enough to catch a glimpse of her nip—

"Are you okay?"

Shit. Did she catch me peeking? I shook my head briskly like a dog in a bathtub. "Sorry. I uh ... was pretty out of it."

I was afraid to look her in the eye because she might see the guilt on my face, so I rubbed my eyes like I'd been asleep for ages.

"I thought you might get a crick in your neck sleeping in a chair."

"It wouldn't be the first time -- sleeping here or getting a crick." I leaned away from her, over the right side of the recliner and pulled the handle letting the footrest down. "Shouldn't you be asleep, too, or are the girls keeping you awake?"

It might not have registered with Randi, but I couldn't help but notice how I'd mentally separated her from "the girls" upstairs. I was having a very hard (pun slightly intended) time thinking of her as just another daughter.

"Yeah, I mean, they went to sleep, but I guess I'm still getting comfortable being in a new place. And I don't mean anything bad about your house; it's rough switching schools for your senior year."

"I imagine so," I said, standing up slowly and turning to my right, which, I mean to say, was away from Randi -- I had a little bit of wood from that short dream and worried that my pants might bulge slightly. I was pretty sure I'd made it behind the recliner before she could see anything.

"Feel free to help yourself to a midnight snack."

With that I began to head for my room, telling myself not to look back over my shoulder for one more glance. But she exclaimed, "Oh wow, you play guitar?" She slid across the room to where my Yamaha acoustic sat on a stand. I took the moment to adjust my underwear.

"I really wanna learn how to play one of these someday."

"People say that, then they find out how hard it is, how much you have to practice, and they move on to the next infatuation."

"You saying I can't learn?" There was a certain steely glint in her eyes. I raised my hands in surrender.

"My apologies. If you want to do something, don't let anyone talk you out of your dreams."

"Thanks," she said, that sudden tension in her stance easing up. "I can't stand when people tell what I can't do."

"Perseverance and determination will always rise to the top," I said. "I think that was Churchill, or maybe Vince Lombardi. Possibly Jimmy V." Shut up, you're babbling.

"Jimmy V? Who is that, some Chicago gangster?"

I chuckled. "No, basketball coach." After a pause, I asked, "So, ever try?"

"Coaching basketball?"

"No, to play guitar. Go ahead and pick it up. It ain't gonna bite."

"No, no. I've tried before. Why don't you play something? Please?"

I was just about to protest, to say something about it being late, but then she said please with those deep, emerald eyes and ... I never stood a chance.

"Okay, but just one, and then we both gotta get to bed."

"Deal."

I picked up the Yamaha and sat down in a cushioned parson's chair I keep in the room because it doesn't have arms to bang the guitar. She sat down in the recliner, but near the edge with her hands on her knees.

After flexing my left hand a couple of times, I slid up the neck and began an old James Taylor song. When I reached the chorus, I heard her join in on "I've seen fire and I've seen rain." Rather than continue on with the next verse, I stopped.

"Nice voice. You know that old song?"

"Of course, it's a classic. And you do it really well."

"Thanks."

"My grandma is a big James Taylor fan."

"Grandma? Now I'm feeling very old."

"You're not old. You look a lot younger than my mom. How old are you?"

"I'm 38."

"You're 38? My mom is 44; you look like a kid next to her. But wait, if Paige is 18, then—"

"Paige's mom and I were high school sweethearts. She got pregnant during our sophomore year of college. We got married after finals that May. We had 15 great years together."

I suddenly missed Beth strongly. I stood up and replaced the guitar on its stand.

"I think it's time I called it a night."

"Yeah, sure. Oh hey, I hear you're a coach, too. Maybe you could coach me to play."

"Maybe so. Good night, Miranda."

"Night, Mr. D."

I lay in bed that night thinking not of Randi's perky breasts, but of how much I wished I could be with Beth again.

She was the mature one in the bunch. I was this silly college kid always making jokes and doing just enough schoolwork to maintain B's and C's.

When she said she was pregnant, I felt this chill run through me, but I never considered making a run for it. I knew how much I loved Beth, and I knew somehow things would be okay because she was there. She would hold us together and help me grow up.

The worst nightmare I've ever had wasn't one of those where someone is chasing me or I'm fighting for my life. No, the worst came about a year into our marriage after Paige was born. I dreamed that I came home from work to find an empty house. I looked everywhere but couldn't find either of them. Walking around the yard, I decided to check the mailbox and found a Dear John letter.

I woke sobbing and was completely inconsolable for a couple of minutes even as she held me and told me everything was going to be okay.

She was the strong one, the grownup. And since she'd passed away, I felt old. Not just older, but old -- like the fun that made life worth living had gone out of the world. 

Neighborhood Dad Ch. 02



This is a continuation of Neighborhood Dad. Please read the first chapter or this one won't make much sense. I hope you enjoy it, and if you do, please cast a vote. 

*

I eased into consciousness slowly the next morning, hearing the clatter of breakfast in the kitchen. Paige was fine with a bowl of cereal, but if friends slept over she would sometimes make pancakes.

Uggh, food didn't sound so good after all that pizza the night before. Still, I was thirsty.

I slid on some jogging pants and a T-shirt and patted down a few wild hairs before venturing out.

Paige and Lori were at the stove and chattering away. I looked for Randi but didn't see her.

"Morning, girls."

"Hey, Dad," said Lori.

"Want pancakes?" asked Paige.

"No. Did you bring home a stray cat?"

"No, why?"

"Then why does it taste like one hopped up on my bed and crapped in my mouth?"

Lori laughed, and Paige said, "Eww, Dad. That's gross."

I went in the hall bathroom and brushed my teeth. As I came back out, I saw my Yamaha sitting on its stand. How long had it been before last night since I'd picked it up? Two weeks? Three? I used to pick it up every single day -- even if it was just to play for two minutes during a commercial break.

I picked it up and sat in the chair. I flexed the morning stiffness out of my hands and plucked a couple of chords. Without thinking of what I'd do, I began to play the notes of a short instrumental.

As I finished I heard from the doorway, "That was nice. Do you write that?"

"No," I said, smiling warmly at my guest. "Eddie Van Halen wrote that when his wife was pregnant with their son. He would lay the guitar against her belly and play softly so that baby Wolfgang could hear."

"That's really nice -- except for that name. Wolfgang?"

"His brother Alex said that if it was a girl they should name it Denise, and if it was a boy they should name it Denephew."

"Oh Lord, it's way too early for jokes that bad." With that Randi spun and headed up the hall to the kitchen, but she was smiling as she left.

My face felt a little warm and my pulse beat a little faster. It was so silly -- me acting like a schoolboy trying to impress the girl he has a big crush on. I just met Randi, and she was half my age.

Over the next few weeks, Lori hung around like always, but Randi appeared only sporadically. She was busy going out with one of the many boys chasing her around no doubt. So it felt like a special treat when she did show up.

During my busiest time of the year, I got some unexpected news.

You see, I'm what some people might call an expert on furniture. Not exactly centuries-old pieces like you'd see on The Antiques Roadshow. No, I follow current trends because I work closely with manufacturers.

I get inside glimpses at the latest prototype bedroom suites or entertainment centers and write magazine articles about it.

It isn't as glamorous as you might think. I spend a lot of time on the phone and prowling dusty, noisy factories.

Every October, furniture companies from around the world travel to this small city in North Carolina for a week of previews on the latest and greatest. The furniture market in High Point is the biggest event of the year.

And suddenly I'm everyone's best friend. Hey, Henry! Gonna come see my showroom? Henry, how about dinner when I'm in North Carolina?

Just days before the event, I got a call from a newspaper publisher. His company handles more than 20 big newspapers and several small-town papers, and he wants my stories in his Sunday editions.

"He's not asking me to quit my job, just supply him with a fresh story every week, and I get an extra paycheck," I explained to my daughters.

"That's so great, Dad!" said Paige.

"Congrats, Coach," added Lori.

"Now can we get that swimming pool we've been talking about?"

"Honey, it's October. What good is a swimming pool gonna do in the wintertime? And why would I spend all that money if you're gonna take off halfway across the country for college next year?"

A gleam entered her eyes as she said, "If I had a pool, I might stick around closer to home."

"Oh! I see, blackmail your old man."

They both giggled and then Lori said, "He's right, the pool wouldn't be of any use to you coming home for Thanksgiving and Christmas."

"Thank you, dear."

"What you need," she continued, looking back and forth between Paige and me, "is a hot tub. One of those well-insulated ones you could use even when there's two feet of snow on the ground."

"Two feet of snow? In North Carolina?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"A hot tub ... hmm," said Paige. "That's good."

"Forget it. It's like beer -- you can't have one until you're at least 21 and hopefully 31."

"He's probably right," said Lori. "If he had a hot tub, then all the lonely middle-aged women would be flocking here like it's the Playboy Mansion. Nobody needs to see that."

"Now there's a thought. I could wander around all day in my pajamas like Hugh Hefner."

"You already do, Mr. Stay-At-Home Dad," chuckled Paige. "So how about it, Pops? Wouldn't soaking in a hot tub be better than rubbing that smelly ointment on yourself after exercising?"

I didn't know a thing about hot tubs, but I have enjoyed them on vacations. Tempting. Then I had a vision of Randi easing her tantalizing legs into the water while wearing a skimpy bikini.

"Tell you what, you've got a big 18th birthday coming up in five weeks. Give me a chance to get through this market, and I'll research the idea."

Both girls jumped forward and hugged my neck.

"But I'm making no promises," I threatened, but they knew better.

Truth be told, I was quietly terrified of Paige graduating and going off to college. She had talked about some of the schools in the UNC system, and I wondered to myself if I would up and sell my place and move, too.

I spent my days alone in front of a computer. I craved the noise and energy that Paige and her friends brought to the house in the evenings.

But I could never leave. There are still memories attached to these walls, especially of times long past -- and a loved one long gone.

And I had built up a pretty good base of friends over the years: work contacts, parents of the kids I've coached, the grown players who are now starting families of their own.

The girls knew exactly what buttons to push with me. If having a hot tub around drew friends back here even after graduation, then I'd put one in. But first I'd have to spend some time on Google.

With Halloween closing in and the furniture market out of the way, I did my due diligence and found a model I liked. Rather than wait for Paige's birthday in November, I went ahead with the purchase so they could install it while the fall weather was perfect.

Of course I couldn't help but feel like a fool buying an oversized bathtub for roughly what a used car would cost.

After the tub was finished on the backside of the house, the lead installer wanted to go over all the ins and outs of operating and maintaining the "spa."

First of all, a spa should include a masseuse and some sort of all-natural facial mask, not just a tub. Second, I had read up on everything related to Jacuzzis and other types of tubs before the guys ever showed up. So, I ran him off with a quick thank you.

I hadn't told Paige about the purchase yet (just in case I did want it to be a birthday present) so when the clock rolled around to 3 p.m., I was in my trunks and trying out the new toy.

I'll spare you the details of her arrival. Let's just say I have a hearing test scheduled in a few days; hopefully the ringing will be gone by then.

After she squealed (and broke every wine glass in the house), Paige immediately jumped on the phone with all her friends.

"It seats six! ... I know! Can you believe? ... Yes, of course! ... No, don't be silly. Nobody expects you to be in bikini shape in October."

Within the hour two cars pulled into my driveway as Lori and three others showed up to try it out.

I grudgingly dragged my pruny ass out of the water to let them be alone. I looked to see if Randi was among them, but was disappointed.

As I went inside to finish drying off and getting changed, it occurred to me that I'd just seen four young women in bathing suits and hadn't even considered checking them out. Randi, it seemed, was a different matter.

After they tried it out, too, the girls poured into the house, babbling about having a hot tub party for Halloween. Yeah right, like I was going to permit a bunch of horny teen-aged boys in my house for a party.

A little voice spoke up in my head, Oh, but's okay to have one horny old guy around?

Hey, it's not like that, I told the voice.

Oh yeah? One word: Randi.

Shit, you win.

Still, I said no to a coed party. After seeing that I wouldn't be convinced, the girls settled on hitting a haunted house that Friday evening, then coming here for a big sleepover.

A couple of days later, I was sitting at the computer after work, looking up a song I'd heard on a TV show the night before. I found the full lyrics and the guitar chords to go with it. I printed it all out and sat down with my Yamaha to try it.

Halfway through, I stopped and corrected one of the chords with an ink pen. Then I tried the line again.

"That sounds better," came a voice.

I turned to see Randi leaning against the doorway. I had no idea how long she'd been there.

Of course, I was the one who told her not to bother knocking because none of the girls did. Still, it was a bit of a shock to see her there in a blue V-neck blouse and tight jeans.

"It wasn't me," I spat out reflexively. "I mean, I wasn't the one who messed up. Well, it was me playing, so yeah I messed up, but I played somebody else's mistake."

She tried unsuccessfully to hold back a smile.

"You laugh now," I said, "but in about 30 seconds, that will all make sense. You see I --" But she cut me off.

"Forget about it. Just let me hear it again."

She flowed into the room and eased onto the love seat, pulling her feet up beside her.

Normally I'm nervous about playing in front of others, and seeing as how Randi had an effect on me, it should have been worse. I expected it to be worse.

Instead, I saw the warmth on her face, the expectance in her eyes, and I relaxed.

By the end of the song, she had placed her left elbow on the seat arm and was propping up her chin while wearing a dreamy expression.

"I could listen to you play all night."

"I couldn't play all night. In fact, I'm a little out of practice, so in 10 or 12 minutes my fingertips hurt too much to play."

"So I'll just have to settle for a little bit every time I come over."

"Deal."

After a second that felt like a hundred, I broke eye contact and asked, "So where have you been? Everyone else has already tried out the hot tub. Been too busy with all your hot dates?"

"Riiight," she dragged out. "No, I don't really date. I have a job after school. You know, Mom says everybody in my family has to pull her own weight. Then with homework, there isn't a lot of free time left."

I felt a bit of shame rising up. Here she was talking about having to support herself, and I'm flaunting my new $7,000 bathtub.

She saw the smile dissolve from my lips and misread what I was thinking.

"Hey, don't sweat it. Guys are such jerks anyway, I'm not missing anything. Present company excluded, of course."

"Of course," I said, with the smile returning. "But I beg to differ. Remember your Tennyson."

"You mean that fat guy that screamed a lot?"

I chuckled. "Not Sam Kinison, but Lord Tennyson."

She laughed, "I know. I just wanted to tease you a little." Well, if your top was cut lower ...

"'I feel it when I sorrow most,'" she began. "'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.'" After a hesitation she added, "Do you still feel that way? You know, because of what happened with your wife?"

"Absolutely. I wouldn't take anything for those years together."

"What made her special?"

"Special? Where to begin?" Changing, the subject, I said, "But you don't want to get into all that, you've got a hot tub to try out."

"That's okay, I didn't bring any bathing suit."

"Nonsense," I cut in. "I'm sure that Paige has an extra one or two around. Heck, there's probably a few others up there that girls have left for when they come back."

"Okay then, I'll go ask her."

I watched her ease out of the room with feline grace, but my thoughts were jumbled.

It had been long enough since Beth passed that I didn't feel weird talking about her anymore. And yet, I didn't want to talk about her with Randi. And I couldn't say why that was.

As Randi headed up the stairs, I began to argue with myself.

One side said I needed to make up some excuse to be outdoors. Does the yard need raking again? That would let me pretend to be busy so I could watch her get in and out of the tub.

God, you're sick. She's 18, and you are one sick bastard. Find a ball game or something on TV and settle in so that you can't possibly catch sight of her.

As usual, I listened to that second voice and turned on the tube.

After several minutes, I heard sets of feet pound down the stairs and toward the back door.

"Hey," I heard behind me.

I turned to look over my shoulder.

Randi was wearing a modest one-piece suit with a long beach towel draped around the back of her neck and down over her breasts.

"Aren't you going to show me how the controls work?"

One of the benefits of being 38 and not 15 is that I didn't lose the use of my vocal cords in front of a pretty woman like I used to. The downside is that sometimes silence is better than some of the dumb shit that flowed out of my mouth. Still, I did well this time.

"Nah, you don't need me for that. Paige knows how it all works."

"Okay," she said, then turned and walked toward the back of the house. As she disappeared out of sight, I had a great look at the profile of her butt encased in the tight outfit.

I stifled a groan.

Then I thought, She must have known that Paige knew how to operate it. So why ask me? Did she want me to see her getting into the water? Maybe she felt a little disappointment when she left.

If that was the case, then why bother covering herself with a towel? She could have shown me right here.

I decided it was better to watch ESPN and settled down again. But my mind wandered back to Randi and her luscious derriere.

Maybe being covered up was the whole point. She kept her breasts hidden innocently in here. But if I followed her outside under some flimsy pretense, then she would know that I wanted to see more. Or am I just seriously overthinking things here?

I attempted to swallow, but my throat made a dry click.

I could go get a drink from the fridge. And so what if I can see the tub from the kitchen window, nobody said I had to look.

Walking through the house, I opened the fridge and pulled out the pitcher of tea. I took it to the counter and gave what I hoped looked like a casual glance outside. Paige and another girl already were in the water. From the reddish-brown hair, it must have been Autumn.

Sitting on the edge with only her lower legs in the water, Randi was profiled against the backdrop of trees and shrubs. She was leaning forward with her hands on her knees. Her arms were blocking my view, but I could see the underside of her bosom. Not to mention her lean thighs.

I turned away and pulled a glass from the cabinet. As I glanced back out, I caught her looking in at me. Then, as if she had been waiting for me, she eased down into the water. But not before I saw the length of her torso and the way the one-piece suit stretched over her mounds.

I'm gonna burn in that special Hell, reserved for perverts.

As I was walking back to the TV with my glass, I realized that my underwear was a little uncomfortable. I reached down to adjust myself and found that I was half-hard. One second of watching her slide into the water, and I'm halfway to wood? Or was it that she looked over at the window first?

Either way, I was embarrassed and couldn't sit still and watch the game. I had this crazy urge to go in the upstairs bathroom and try to peep down on the tub. I could watch Randi and rub one out without anybody being the wiser. It was disturbingly tempting, but logic spoke up and said one of the girls could come in and wonder why I was upstairs instead of using the downstairs bath.

Instead, I left a note on the counter that I had some errands to run and that I would pick up some groceries on the way home. By the time I returned a couple of hours later, the girls were all out of the tub and back upstairs in Paige's room. Most of me breathed a sigh of relief, but that other part was sorely disappointed.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 03



A few days before Halloween, Paige came into my office.

"Hey, honey. How was school?"

"Fine. I think I did pretty well on my English test."

"I'm not surprised."

"I was gonna ask about Halloween night."

"Shoot."

"Well, when I mentioned having some girls over, the idea kind of snowballed on me. Some kids want to go out looking for some wild party on Halloween, and their parents won't let them. When they found out you were gonna be chaperoning a girls' only night, all the parents wanted their daughters to come here instead."

"What do you mean by 'all' the parents?"

"I have like a dozen girls that wanna stay, and their parents have already said okay. Everybody knows you and trusts you with their kids."

It took a second to process all that. "Where would they sleep? You only have the one bed."

"That's okay, Lori will sleep next to me, and everybody else is bringing a sleeping bag. We'll cram them in somehow."

With the furniture upstairs and the floor space, that might just work. "Okay, but the cutoff is 12. No more. And I'm not made of money so don't think I'm feeding all those people. Get everyone to pitch in a few dollars each."

"Thanks, Daddy," she said, giving me a quick hug.

A few dollars, that's a laugh. Teen-age girls on a sleepover are like termites. You wake up the next morning with a pile of sawdust where your kitchen cabinets used to be. My friends tell me boys are worse -- God help them.

By Friday, I'd eyeballed the entire upstairs and had a rough idea of where the girls could go. If only 10 showed up, we'd be fine. Twelve would be a little snug.

School let out, and kids began showing up to drop off their things. The first ones to arrive scoped out the best spots. The late arrivals got the worst spots -- and might get stepped on in the middle of the night by someone on a potty run.

Looking over the crowd, I recognized every one of them and knew most very well.

I kept glancing around the house before I realized that I was still searching for Randi. She wasn't here. I didn't have time to feel any emotion at that as the flow of people rushed around me.

Then in a flash, they were gone. Off to the haunted house.

The sudden change between chaos and silence was a little unnerving, so I went in the kitchen to busy myself with a small meal.

A few hours later, the girls returned, bringing life back to the still house.

There was Chinese take-out and the obligatory scary movies to watch.

I wandered around and quietly did a head count. Thirteen. One or two of them would need to sleep downstairs in my den. The love seat wasn't very long, but there was a petite girl named Tessa who could probably fit. I moved upstairs to Paige and whispered the suggestion in her ear.

As I headed back down the steps, the front door opened and a new arrival appeared. Randi stepped through with a rolled-up sleeping bag in her arms and a backpack strapped across her shoulders.

I wished that I could be those shoulder straps, rubbing against the outsides of her pert breasts.

"Hey, Henry. Am I too late?"

I felt an odd stirring in my gut at hearing her use my first name, but batted it aside.

"Just in time for Friday the 13th Part 32 or something."

I expected her to shut the door, but then another person came in behind her.

"Autumn? I thought you were already here."

"Nope, I had to work at the grocery store until closing," said the new arrival. "Hey, I need you to call my mom and let her know I got here okay. You know how she worries."

As I stepped off the bottom stair, a voice spoke up behind me.

"I think your mom just has a crush on Coach," said Lori. "She just wants to hear his sexy voice on the phone."

Giggles erupted all around me.

"Ha, ha. Very funny, Lori," I said flatly.

"'Oh, Mr. D,'" Lori said in her best sultry tone, "'If your house is all full, you can come sleep at my place. I'm just a lonely divorcee.'"

"Hey, cut it out!" said Autumn, but with a hint of a smile.

"All right," I said, slipping into my coaching persona. "Knock it off, or I'll make ya run laps around the backyard."

For a moment, I'd forgotten that Randi was there. I was glancing around, looking to see where the portable phone might be to call Autumn's mom when I came around to the young beauty. She was standing there, still clutching the sleeping bag to her chest.

"Wow, this is crazy. Where exactly am I supposed to sleep?" she asked.

"Umm, give me a minute, and we'll figure something out."

Those were the words that came out of my mouth. The words I heard in my head were, "I've got a queen-size bed and a king-size erection." Oh good God.

There were 15 girls in a house that had never had more than seven stay in it before.

Shit, I was going to have to give up my bed. I could pull out the old camping tent and my own sleeping bag and stay out in the backyard. It wasn't cold weather yet, no rain. I could manage it. And considering how many giggly girls were indoors, I might actually get more sleep.

I headed to the linen closet and got fresh sheets. I stripped off the bed and redressed the mattress. The sheets had different kinds of fish adorning them, but at least they smelled clean.

I looked around to make sure there were no dirty pairs of underwear lying about or anything else I wouldn't want seen. Everything was fine. My guitar case was propped up against the wall. I'd taken the guitar out of the den to protect it. Standing up suddenly didn't seem so safe, either, so I put the case on the floor and scooted it under the bed.

The ground floor was practically empty, so I figured the girls had started the DVDs. Randi was in the den chatting with Tessa, who had staked out the love seat as I'd suggested.

I reached out to tap her on the shoulder, but at the last second I wanted to caress her instead.

My hand hesitated inches from her for just a second. But that was long enough for Tessa to see me and Randi to notice the girl's eyes looking over her shoulder.

"Oh, hey," she said out of surprise.

"I've got you a place to sleep."

"Oh. I was thinking about leaving, what with all these people here."

"Nonsense, follow me."

I led her to the opening to my room and gestured for her to go inside.

She paused and gave me an odd look that I couldn't quite read.

Then I realized how this might look to her -- like a horny old guy wanting to sleep with an 18-year-old hottie. Well, yeah, part of that could be, possibly, maybe true, but that's not what I was going for.

"I -- I won't be in here. I'm sleeping in a tent in the backyard. You and Autumn or somebody can share the bed. It's a queen-size. Paige has been known to cram three kids in a queen before."

She stepped into the room, gazing all around. Her eyes stopped on the drawer chest.

"It's cherry, Louis Philippe. The king of France in the 1830s and 40s," I sputtered before I realized she wasn't looking at the furniture, but the photo on top.

"Paige's mom was really beautiful," she said, letting the sleeping bag slide out of her hands to the floor as she stepped closer to the chest.

"Yeah, she really was," I answered softly. "And smart, a lot smarter than I am."

"I think you're being modest," she said, turning to smile at me.

"Well, she always made better grades in school, and she made more money at her job, back before she got sick."

"I asked you once what made her special, and you never answered me."

"It's a long answer, and you've got better things to do with your time than listen to me," I said, turning to go. "If anybody's looking for me, I'll be outside."

There it was again. That queer feeling that came with thinking about Beth while being near Randi.

Outside I found a couple of girls gossiping in the hot tub.

"Hey, ladies. Not watching the movie?"

"It was a little crowded in there for me, Mr. D," said one of the girls, whose names I couldn't remember.

"Yeah, and Crystal doesn't like scary movies," said the other.

"Shut up. You can't stand all that blood, either," said Crystal.

By the time I had finished setting up the tent, the girls were stepping out of the tub and drying off.

Okay, I've never had a perverse thought before about Lori or Autumn or Kim or Tessa. But I can't help checking out Randi? Why is that? Because I don't know her like the others? What about Crystal and whats-her-face over there? Are they fair game?

I discreetly turned my eyes that way. Crystal had a firm, slender body, and her friend had a nice rack, but I just didn't feel anything about it. I thought of the old phrase, "It's like kissing your sister."

That's sort of what it felt like. Only, I think it's that all of these other girls felt like daughters to me. And Randi didn't. What did that mean?

What does it matter, what does it mean? She's an 18-year-old high school senior. What, am I gonna do, run away with her to Jamaica?

I was far too wound up to sleep, what with all the traffic and the cluttered thoughts. So, I went inside, grabbed a soda and went back out to sit in a lounge chair.

I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe slowly and regularly for a couple of minutes. That seemed to help a lot. I listened to the crickets chirp and felt peaceful.

The back door opened and a slender figure stepped out into the night.

The girl stopped for a second to let her eyes adjust, and from the light spilling out the window I could see it was Randi.

"Tub or rocker?"

"Oh! I didn't see you there. What are you doing out here in the dark?"

"Relaxing. So, tub or rocker?"

She didn't answer, so I added, "Were you headed for the hot tub or this rocking chair next to me?"

"I hadn't really thought about it. I was just trying to get some fresh air."

"A little too crowded, eh?"

"A lot crowded," she said, drifting to the rocker. "I don't have any brothers or sisters, and my dad travels all the time for work, so it's just me and Mom at home. I feel really out of place around that many girls."

"You're used to talking to your mom, so you come search out the old person in the group."

"You're not old," she protested. "You're really cool. I am the old one; everybody says it."

"What do you mean?"

"Most girls are flirting with guys and gossiping about who is breaking up with whom. I just don't find anybody at school interesting. Most of the girls who work are waitresses or running the drive-through window at a fast food place or babysitting kids. I work at the library because I love books."

"A reader! We need more of your type around here."

"You never see anyone under 25 checking out a book unless it's for a school project. Even the ones who do like to read have Kindles or e-books on their smart phones. I just like the feel of a book in my hand. I like the musty old smell of the books on the shelves."

I smiled, thinking of how mature she seemed for her age. I guess her friends did think of her as old.

"I hate Justin Bieber. I grew up listening to the songs of the 80's and 90's that my mom liked. I don't want to talk about American Idol. I'd rather discuss the differences between Kinison and Tennyson."

That brought out a snort of laughter. After a pause, I said, "Reminds me of Beth."

I didn't know I was going to say that. But once I did, I felt several more words building behind it.

"She was the mature one. She had these dreams of college and becoming a successful businesswoman. I was the cut-up. She made straight-As, and I was too busy trying to make our classmates laugh.

"I loosened her up, and she helped me grow up. We complemented each other perfectly. She might have burned out in college from too much studying, but I kept her sane. I might have flunked out of school from too much goofing off with buddies, but she kept me straight.

"She was looking to climb the corporate ladder, and I was wanting to write the great American novel -- but with a sense of humor, like Mark Twain."

Just as suddenly as it started, the flow of words ran dry, and I had no idea what to say next.

"Did you ever do it? You know, write a novel?"

"Oh, I started four or five, but I never finished them. Maybe I goofed off too much, maybe I was never any good at planning and couldn't figure out where the story was going next. I dunno."

"I'd love to see one of your stories sometime. Even if it isn't finished."

"No, no. I don't think so. I couldn't possibly --"

"Maybe you didn't finish the stories because you're a big chicken," she challenged with a grin.

"Hey, I know that isn't true. I even dressed up like one for a college rally once."

"You did not!"

"I did!"

I launched into the tale, and then we continued chatting for a while.

Even in the dark, I saw her eventually draw her legs up in the chair and wrap her arms around them.

"Are you cold? Maybe you should get back inside."

"No, I'm having a good time."

"You won't be if your teeth start chattering."

"Well it's a good thing there is this fancy new hot tub right over there."

"That's right, I forgot all about that. Well, my wallet hasn't, he's still griping about the expense."

"I say, 'Let's hop in.'"

"Right now?" I asked, looking around. Of course, there was no one else outside but us.

"I thought I might want to soak, so I put my bathing suit on under this T-shirt and shorts. C'mon, my legs are chilly."

She stood up, and I followed obediently.

She stopped next to the tub and undid the top button on her denim shorts.

I felt a lump in my throat and another starting to form in my pants.

She unzipped the shorts and did a quick little shimmy to get the waistband past her hips, then the shorts were falling to the ground, and I was staring hard at the bikini bottoms stretched across her taut cheeks.

I felt a strong pulse in my underwear and tried unsuccessfully to swallow.

My eyes tracked her perfect behind as it rose up and over the lip of the tub.

She stepped down into the water and sat on the edge.

"Ahh, that feels so good." Then she gave a little shiver. "Gotta get the rest of me in here."

"She reached down and pulled her T-shirt off, revealing her perky pair. The bikini top was a modest cut, but still showcased her body so well that I felt my cock start to plump.

He might not be ready to stand up on his own, but he was definitely pressing against my clothing.

I was hypnotized until she slid in the water and let out a light moan. That snapped me awake, and I started to obsess about what people would think if they saw me in this hot tub with a high school girl, but I couldn't carry that thought very far with all the blood rushing downward.

I stripped off my shirt and threw it toward the lounge chair, then I reached for my zipper.

"Oh shit, what am I thinking? I don't have on my swimsuit like you."

"Don't worry about it. Just sit here in your boxers or briefs or boxer-briefs, whatever it is you wear."

Somehow that seemed like the most reasonable idea in the world, and my pants soon trailed my shirt through the air to the chair -- with a quick move to readjust myself before she could see my growing erection.

"Nice, I like boxer-briefs."

I felt self-conscious for the first time, but reminded myself that I stayed in shape, playing ball a couple of times a week at the YMCA and keeping up with the kids at practice.

I stepped into the warm water as she said, "Crank up the bubbles."

I touched the controls and the motor kicked in.

I sat down on the opposite side from her, as far away as possible.

"Feels nice," I said, feeling the need to say something, anything.

"What? I can't hear you over the bubbles. Why are you so far away? Sit where I can hear you."

Again I found myself responding to her words, lifting up and crossing over to her side.

We had talked for a long time sitting in chairs, but now I seemed to be struggling to converse. All I could think of was how hot she looked sliding those shorts off.

She did me a favor and started a story herself, telling about a hotel stay at Myrtle Beach. Soon, the story and the warm water had me relaxed again. I felt so comfortable with her that I almost forgot that she was nearly naked under the water.

The tub had built-in lights, and in their incandescence I admired her emerald eyes. Then I saw her look up past me toward the house.

"All the lights are off upstairs. I guess everyone has finally gone to sleep."

That caught me off-guard. I figured Paige and her friends would be up until the wee hours of the morning. Maybe it was the wee hours of the morning. Goodness, how long had we been out here?

Randi surely had to be getting sleepy, and we really needed to get out of this hot tub.

I glanced one last time at her beautiful face and then pivoted to put my hand on the tub's edge.

"I reckon we ought to -- "

My face was turned toward hers as I started to lift up, but instead, she leaned forward, caught her hand behind my neck and pulled me forward into a kiss.

My lips froze for a second, then melted under her soft, moist pressure. My legs and arms went limp, and I slid back down onto my rear. I leaned forward to return the kiss, but just as quickly as it started, she pulled back.

She was beaming brightly, but then rose up, spun around and stepped out of the tub as my hand weakly rose up to stop her.

Out of all the times she'd been at my house around a bunch of giggling girls, I'd never heard Randi giggle herself. But she let one fly as she stooped to pick up her clothes and hurry toward the house. Just as she reached the back door, she turned and called out softly, "Good night, Henry."

I sat there dumbstruck for several minutes before I turned off the tub and retired to my tent.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 04



Thanks so much to everyone who has voted on my installments. It really is flattering that tens of thousands of people have taken the time to click on my stories.

As for the lack of sex in this story, I won't apologize for that. I want the characters to develop naturally -- not jump in the sack because sex is fun to write about. I actually put this story under Romance, but the webmaster switched it to Mature.

If you like my writing style, but want some excitement, too, check out some of my other offerings like "Sheer Undies Lead to Sheer Delight" and "Bundle of Joy" and "Afterglow."

This is just a short chapter to keep people interested while I work on Chapter Five.

*

Sleep was slow to come as I stretched out in my sleeping bag. The brain kept going and going.

What did it mean that Randi kissed me? Was it an impulse reaction in the heat of the moment, or was it something that she's been working up to? If it was an impulse, will she regret it when she wakes up? What does this mean to me? What do I do next? Hell, what do I feel?

So many questions, and practically none that I could answer at the time.

The adrenaline rush of her kiss finally faded and the weariness of the day won out. My eyes closed, and I drifted off.

Gradually awakening, it took me a moment to remember where I was.

Eventually I crawled out of the tent and stretched, noting that the sun was high enough it must have been late morning.

Having people in the house was so common that I should have felt right at home when I walked inside, but everything was a little off. I heard the voices of the many girls scattered throughout the house, but sounds were muffled like when my ears are waterlogged from swimming.

I thought I should change clothes and wiggled my way through the throng before hesitating at my bedroom door. What if she's still in my bed? I can't go barging in on her? I should knock.

No, I really should barge in. Maybe she sleeps in the nude, and when I startle her, she'll sit up in bed with the covers falling away from her chest.

That last thought was so startling -- both that I was so bold as to think it, and that I wondered what she would look like naked in my bed -- that I felt my face heat up in embarrassment.

I knocked on the door, waiting a few seconds and tentatively eased it open.

The room was empty except for one of the girls' travel bag on the foot of the bed. I let out the deep breath I had been holding and eased myself into the room.

As I stepped over to the drawer chest, I saw Randi's sleeping bag on the floor on the far side of the bed. She was still here somewhere.

I pulled open a drawer and then stopped as I considered what to wear.

Should I put on something nice to stand out? No, that would look completely out of place. Maybe a T-shirt? No, then I'd just look like a bum.

I went to the closet and pulled out a casual, yet nice shirt that seemed like a good compromise. I laid the shirt across the bed and stripped off the white T-shirt I'd slept in. I tossed the shirt in the laundry hamper by the chest and then followed with my boxer-briefs.

I was reaching into a drawer for a clean pair when I heard the doorknob twist behind me.

Oh god, did I lock the door? I always lock the door.

When you are used to having kids over, it becomes a habit to lock up, but I had been so distracted that morning that I couldn't remember.

My back was to the door, but I knew when it opened because the voices from the kitchen suddenly became clearer. I whipped out my underwear and clamped it to my crotch as I turned to put my butt toward the dresser.

"Oh shit, Mr. D," gasped Autumn, slapping a hand to her mouth. The way her eyes were looking down and not at my face told me plainly that she'd gotten a good eyeful of my ass.

"I am sooo sorry," she sputtered, looking away quickly. "I didn't know you were in here. I was just gonna get my --" Then she broke off, perhaps just realizing that she was trying to explain herself while I still stood there naked.

Autumn backed out of the room, closing the door as she went. As soon as her hand left the knob, I could hear her utter, "Oh my god, oh my god."

I raised my hands to my head as if to keep my skull from exploding. Then I remembered that I was still naked and facing the door with my junk uncovered. I spun around and quickly slid on my underwear. I no longer cared what I was wearing. I just wanted to hide out in my room.

After I dressed, I considered sneaking outside to take the tent down, but I couldn't bear the thought of Autumn telling people what happened and everyone turning to gawk at me.

Instead, I pushed some pillows up against the headboard and reached under the bed to pull out my guitar.

I wasn't upstairs to hear the ensuing conversation, but according to a couple of people who there, it went something like this.

Paige, Lori and Tessa were sitting on the sofa, while Kim and Randi were sitting on Kim's sleeping bag and leaning back against a wall.

Randi was unwrapping a granola bar when Lori asked, "Hey, where did you find that? I didn't see any in the cabinets."

"Oh, I brought it from home. I didn't know if there'd be anything -- I could split it with you."

Lori hopped up from her spot as Randi reached up an arm with half the bar in her hand. Autumn flew into the room and stole Lori's seat.

"Oh my god, I am so embarrassed," she exclaimed. Turning to Paige, "I am really, really sorry. I didn't mean to."

"Mean to what?"

"I was just going to get my bag -- crap, I didn't even get it -- and then whoa! There they are! And I kinda froze."

"Take a breath, girl," said Lori.

Autumn's rapid ascent of the stairs had brought a few curious faces up to the TV room.

"What are you talking about?" asked Paige. "Why are you sorry?"

"I was getting my bag, and I didn't know your dad was back in the house. I thought he was still in the tent. I opened the door, and he was changing clothes, and I didn't mean it."

"Wha—you saw Coach naked?" asked Tessa, sitting on Autumn's other side.

"What did you see?" asked Kim. "Cause you said they. There they are. Did you see his ..." She waved one hand around in a circle over the zipper of her shorts.

"Hey now!" started Paige, but the snickers of the others drowned her out.

"No, not those," said Autumn. "His butt cheeks. He had his back to me."

"How did they look?" asked Crystal, standing at the edge of the hallway with a grin on her face.

"Whoa, whoa," interjected Lori. "I don't think I wanna hear about --"

"Jesus, guys," Paige said in a stage whisper. "He's right downstairs."

"Okay, okay, we'll keep it down," whispered Kim. "So, how did he look?"

"I don't want to talk about it," said Autumn.

"Oh come on," said Crystal stepping closer. "Mr. D is kinda cute. Tell us."

With everyone staring at her, Autumn blurted out, "Well, I can see why my mom likes him. He's in really good shape for a old guy."

A snort and a few giggles filled the air.

"Old-er guy," countered Kim. "He's not old."

"C'mon, girls," pleaded Lori. "Let's not talk about this. He's coach, he's like my father."

"He's not like my father," said Tessa. "My dad should be on Biggest Loser."

"Yeah, and Mr. D is hot," said Kim.

"Hey! Sitting right here!" squawked Paige, before turning red at how loud she'd just been after fussing at others to keep their voices down.

"Who thinks Mr. D is kinda sexy?" asked Crystal, raising a hand tentatively.

"Eww, stop it," demanded Lori.

Kim's hand rose slowly, followed by Tessa's.

"Tess! Not you too," Paige said.

"Think about it," Tessa started. "We watched Ocean's 11 and drooled over the hot guys in the movie. George Clooney, Brad Pitt? Matt Damon? They were all 30s and 40s, and that didn't stop all of y'all from staring."

"Randi hasn't said a peep," noted Crystal. "How about it? Hot or not?"

Randi didn't speak, but Kim answered for her, "Aww, she's blushing. That's a yes."

By this time, a few more girls had climbed the steps to see what the commotion was about, and Autumn's story had to be repeated.

A little while later, I was softly picking my guitar when a knock sounded.

"Come in."

The door opened slowly, and Autumn eased into the room with her hand shading her eyes as if she were in bright light.

"I just came to get my bag," she said.

"It's okay, I'm dressed now." As she sheepishly lowered her hand, I added, "I'm very sorry about earlier. I should have locked the door. I usually do."

"Oh, hey, no. It's my fault, I'm sorry." She grabbed her bag and rushed from the room, shutting the door behind her.

A few seconds later, the knock came again.

"Did you forget something?" I called.

This time when the door opened, Randi sidled in. I was startled to see her unexpectedly, and it worsened as she closed the door behind her.

"I came to get my sleeping bag. Thought I'd head home while it's still crowded enough nobody will miss me."

Her face was a little pink, and I wondered if mine was too.

"No need to rush off."

She smiled sweetly as she crossed over and picked up her bag.

"Don't worry, I'll come back around. Maybe you'll finally get to show me some chords."

She was nearly to the door when she added, "Or we can try the hot tub again. Maybe next time, I'll get to see your cute tush instead of Autumn."

I needed a moment to think of something to say back, but before anything came to mind, she was gone.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 05



Thank you to all who have stuck with this story so far.

It is amazing to me that so many people have read my chapters and given me nice comments. 

Chapter Five

A few days after Halloween, I was sitting at my computer working when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Henry? This is Neal Goins over at the high school."

"The school? Is something wrong with Paige? Is she okay?"

"What? Oh, no no no. She's fine. That's not why I'm calling."

"Oh. Whew, you scared me." What I was thinking was, "You could've led with 'Paige is fine.'"

I was a little preoccupied and missed the start of the next sentence.

"... and she's planning to move in with her and look after her. So what do you say? Can you help me out?"

I was really lost now. 

"Help you out how?"

"With the team, of course."

That really didn't clear things up for me.

"Say again?"

After a few more stumbling sentences back and forth, I finally got the gist of the story. Coach Taylor, who was over the girls' varsity basketball team, was moving back to her hometown because her mother had a stroke. 

Practice already had begun, and the new season would get underway in two weeks, and Neal was looking for a new head coach.

"Why not get the JV coach to step up to varsity?"

"Have you met him? He's only a year out of college. He's a little young to be taking over a JV team, much less a varsity squad."

Then he added, "Plus, he's 23 years old. I really can't afford to have a horny young man hanging around 17- and 18-year-old girls. Can you imagine what kind of scandal that could create?"

I pictured Randi and thought that I could indeed imagine a scandal with a young woman. 

"Listen, you coached these kids growing up, and you come to all the games. There's nobody that knows these girls like you do."

Yeah, one of them even saw my naked ass a few days ago, I thought.

"I can't offer you much of a salary. Say $2,500, maybe as high as $3,000 if I explain to the school board that it's an emergency."

"The pay isn't the problem," I said. "It's the scheduling I'm a little worried about. I take a five-day business trip every January. Big show, can't miss it."

"We'll work around that. Reschedule a game or two if we have to. We do it all the time for bad weather."

"My work goes into overdrive in March. What if the playoffs are going on?"

"The playoffs are in February. The only way we'd still be alive in March is if we went to the state title game, and nobody is expecting you to do that coming in cold off the street."

"Okay, Neal. I'll take the offer. Let me get off this call so I can tell my assistant coach I won't be with the youth league this season."

I wasn't sure how my daughter would take it, having her dad suddenly be her coach again. I hadn't done that since she started high school.

It turned out I had nothing to fear. Paige and Lori both were excited at the news and gave me a big hug that evening. 

The next afternoon I showed up at East for my first varsity practice.

Neal was right -- I did know everyone on the team. Most of them came to the house from time to time, and I did see every game last season.

Tessa was easily the smallest at about 5-foot-2, but very tenacious on defense.

Autumn could dribble the ball and get into the paint at will.

Lori could shoot outside or drive the lane.

My daughter Paige was 5-foot-8, a great size for a wing player, but she was often expected to go inside and battle with bigger girls. I'd worked a lot with her on tips and tricks to get her shot off in traffic.

Kim and Crystal usually came in off the bench, but they were just as good as the starters. Kim was a great shooter, but a little bit prissy and didn't like physical play. Crystal was just the opposite: scrappy and hard-working but couldn't make a shot outside 10 feet.

The only player on the team who wasn't at the Halloween sleepover was the center, Carrie.

At 6-foot-1, Carrie was easily the tallest girl on the team. While that height made her important at basketball, it also made her socially awkward. She tended to walk with her shoulders slumped and her head bowed down to seem shorter. She wasn't fat in the least, but she had wide hips and muscular arms, but seemed very self-conscious about her size.

There were three other players on the team, but they were young and not ready to take on big roles with the team. 

As the practice began, I explained why I was there and what I expected of any team I coached. I asked them to demonstrate some of the offensive plays they had practiced and then went to work tweaking their technique.

During conditioning drills, I stepped off to the side of the court and watched as they jogged laps around the gym.

Carrie had large breasts that couldn't be fully contained, no matter how stout a sports bra she wore. Every impact of her feet sent those tits wobbling. It was like the opening shot of Baywatch with Pamela Anderson bouncing along the sand.

With an effort, I pulled my eyes away and focused on the others. 

Tessa was so petite. Short and slender. On her, average-sized breasts looked bigger. She was probably a B cup, but they fit her shape so nicely. Why, if she were nude standing in the surf with the sun glowing off her skin, she'd -- 

Christ, what was wrong with me? Tessa had been to my house several times. Why was I suddenly checking her out? Sure, she was just so adorably cute, but it's not like she could be a lingerie model.

Not like Autumn and Kim. 

How is it I never noticed how hot these two are? Autumn was maybe 5-5 with nicely rounded hips and perky breasts that were probably closer to a C than a B. Kim was about 5-7 with nice shaping; she also was the most girly one on the team and cleaned up nicely after the game.

Hmm, cleaning up after the game. Autumn and Kim in the showers, possibly soaping each other up. Rubbing their slippery tits together.

Jesus, what is wrong with me? 

This is all Randi's fault. I never had thoughts like this until she brought those gorgeous green eyes and perfect ass into my home.

Okay, maybe these girls weren't my daughter like Paige, and maybe I hadn't practically adopted them like I had Lori, but they were part of my extended family. These kinds of thoughts were unacceptable.

At the end of practice, the girls were ready to collapse, but I made them do a few cool-down stretches before heading off to the locker room.

Some of the girls were bending over to touch their toes. Despite all my previous protests against eyeballing the players, I couldn't help but look them over, trying to decide who had the nicest butt.

Autumn and Kim had nice rears.

I was glad that I wasn't wearing regular underwear, but a jock strap that kept my cock pulled down. Otherwise I would have had quite a bulge jutting out after staring at their fine asses.

Still, they weren't quite to the level of the one on the end.

The shorts were pulled tight across these full, muscular cheeks, and the material was squeezed up between her thighs. I thought I could see a hint of her pouch before she rose back up.

Oh shit, it's Lori.

Suddenly I felt a little sick on my stomach. I couldn't believe that I was gaze-raping my daughter's best friend.

"That's enough, girls. Hit the showers."

As bad as I felt about leering at Lori, there was no denying the reaction my body had. I was breathing a little faster and swelling down below was getting to the point that I was afraid someone might see. 

When the girls left the floor for their locker room, I quickly strode into the boys' locker room. The boys were practicing over at the fieldhouse and wouldn't be bothering us this afternoon.

In the locker room, I couldn't help but reach down and give the old Johnson a squeeze. It was painfully pushing against the jock strap. 

Needing some relief, I slipped my hand inside my waistband and pulled my dick upright.

Instead of going down now that I was out of sight of the girls, my cock took advantage of the new position to stretch out to full length. The head was sticking out above the top of my shorts now.

Fuck me.

What was I going to do? Hide in here until it decided to go back down? Hopefully it would go back down, but what if it didn't? My daughter was going to be waiting for me and wondering why I was taking so long.

I felt my cock strain in pleasure and realized that I was rubbing the head unconsciously.

With need overcoming my ability to reason, I stepped over to the bathroom stalls and went inside one.

I pulled my shorts and jock strap down and let my full length stretch out before me. 

I massaged the stiffening shaft with my right hand as the left reached down to my hot, low-hanging balls. 

Autumn and Kim moving around the court so gracefully, Carrie's big tits bouncing as she ran.

I spit into my palm and began to really work the head with my right as the left slid up to pump the shaft.

Unbelievably, in only a minute or two, I was already feeling the pressure build as my nuts drew up higher.

I imagined watching Autumn and Kim and Carrie doing drills in the nude. Then just as I was about to reach the point of no return, my mental images returned to Lori bent over. Those thick, meaty buns. The slim gap of space at the top of her thighs leading to her sex bulging out the crotch of her shorts.

I began to erupt and quickly leaned forward to the wall behind the toilet. Blast after blast fired out from my cock and splashed into the bowl.

Even before I had finished spasming, the guilt poured in. How could I think of Lori like that? How could I think of any of them like that, but especially Lori? 

No matter how much my rational mind protested, however, there was no denying the effect those girls had on my body -- and one last tremor shook through me as a reminder.

Quickly, I cleaned myself off, flushed the toilet and went over to the sink to wash my hands. Before I left the room, I did a one-over, checking myself out in the mirror to make sure I wasn't going out there with a mess sticking to me somewhere like Ben Stiller in There's Something About Mary.

A few of the girls had already changed and left, but I returned to the court in surprisingly little time.

By the point that Paige exited the locker room, I felt almost back to normal.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 06



Thanks to everyone who has continued to follow this story.

A big snowfall this week gave me some free time to write, so this is the longest chapter so far.

I hope people like, and as always I appreciate the votes. 

I have one story, Sheer Undies, that has been up on the site for nearly five years and hasn't had anywhere near the number of reads and votes as this series, so thanks a bunch. 

*

On the ride home, Paige asked, "Sooooo, what did you think?"

My mind flashed back to the girls' nice figures. "Think about what?"

"What do you think I mean? The team! You think we can win the conference?"

"Oh, right. Well yeah, I see a lot of potential. I don't know if we'll have any three-point threats, but this squad looks multitalented."

"I'm so excited! I really think we can make the playoffs, and I know you'll bring out the best in everybody, Dad."

"Thanks, honey," I said, then changing the subject. "Now what to do about your birthday?"

"You already got the hot tub; I don't expect anything else."

"That doesn't mean we don't celebrate. You wanna invite the team over?"

"Sure, but ..." she hesitated. 

"Buuuuut what?"

"Well, you know some of the girls have boyfriends, and they might want to bring them."

One eyebrow raised up as I dared take my eyes off the road to look at her.

"It's not like Halloween. This isn't a sleepover, just some people coming to a party."

"Tell me something, Paige. What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Dad, you know I don't have a --"

"What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Spalding," she mumbled, her head drooping forward.

"That's right. You've got enough brains and basketball skill to go to college, so now is not the time to get distracted by boys."

"C'mon, Dad. It's just a birthday party, and you can be there to chaperone."

Eventually she wore me down. I agreed on the condition that the guest list be shorter than what we had for the sleepover.

As my daughter and I pulled into the driveway, all I could think about was what a disgraceful display I made today. It didn't matter that I was alone in the locker room -- it was still wrong.

How could I pull off coaching these girls for a whole season if I didn't pull it together?

I went to my desk and rummaged through my old Rolodex. Yes, any cell phone on the planet can hold phone numbers now, but mine was full of business cards that people handed me at furniture markets. It would take a lot of time and diligence to input all that into a digital address book, and I didn't want the bother.

Finding what I wanted, I called a former player.

"Heather, this is Henry Donaldson."

"Hey, Coach. I hear you're stepping up to the big time this season."

Small communities, gotta love 'em.

"That's why I'm calling. I don't have a shooter."

"Sorry, Coach. I'm afraid I used up my eligibility a few years ago."

"I remember. All-conference, leading three-point shooter. That's why I need you."

"For what?"

"To help me coach. I don't really have an assistant coach. I have a JV coach, but he's too busy with his own squad to help me. What do you say?"

"I've never coached a day in my life. You need somebody with some experience."

"Heather, what I need is someone who's been there, someone the girls can look up to. These ladies have a ton of potential, but the game still comes down to putting the ball in the hole."

It took some more doing, but eventually I convinced Heather to help me out. If she could take on some offensive duties, I could focus on defense. And having an adult female around would help me keep my mind on the bouncing balls, not the bouncing bras.

As for focusing on defense, I might need to do that at home, too, if some young punk was going to be hitting on my daughter.

I know I sound overprotective. And I'm not some prude that thinks she should be a virgin until she's 25 and married, but there are just so many pitfalls in life.

I think about that first day at college orientation when the dean threw out that old line.

"Look to your left and look to your right. One of these people will not be with you at graduation."

It sounded laughable at the time. We were going to get degrees and live the dream. 

Then things started happening to our friends. One of them dropped out after his dad was caught by the IRS for cheating on his taxes. Bye bye, college savings. 

A girl got knocked up, and wasn't even sure who the father was after a drunken orgy. She left school and moved back in with her parents.

And then there was the case of Tommy Jones. Tommy was an offensive lineman on our high school football team and earned a scholarship to college. He was no dumb jock, making the National Honor Society and talking about becoming an engineer.

Then Tommy met a fellow freshman and tumbled head over heels in love.

They were inseparable and seemed so happy together.

Then one day the girl decided that Tommy was getting way too serious, and she was still young and wanted to experience more of the college dating scene.

If I thought he fell hard in love, Tommy fell way harder out of love.

He began hunting up every party on campus, getting stinking drunk night after night. He stopped going to classes, was kicked off the team and had his scholarship revoked.

Was this an extreme example? Sure, but if it could happen to a levelheaded guy like Tommy, then it could happen to anyone.

Paige's birthday landed on a Thursday, so we held the party on Saturday.

And much to my chagrin, the house even more packed than Halloween. Only this time I couldn't hide out in the backyard because there were boys present.

Considering how hot Paige's teammates are, I took comfort in knowing that there were plenty of girls for the boys to look at instead of my daughter. 

Still, it didn't take long to find one boy who couldn't keep his eyes off Paige. To make matters worse, I saw her glancing back at him from time to time. 

I tried to run interference without seeming like I was.

I checked to see if people needed drinks. Everyone gotten some snacks? How about that football team going 7-4 this year?

A little after 8 p.m., I saw the front door open and the rest of the room faded out. Randi stepped in and shut the door behind her.

One of the girls called out to her, and Randi responded. Then as her eyes took in the crowd, she found me. I could feel a smile spread across my face, and I could see her own answer me.

Our eyes locked for what felt like minutes, but was probably only seconds before Lori interrupted our line of sight to give Randi a quick hug. The spell broken, I turned away quickly so I wouldn't be captured again.

A few minutes later I had an odd realization. Paige was stealing peeks at this unnamed boy the way I was with Randi. It felt surreal to be on an emotional parallel with my daughter at this point.

Paige walked over to the kitchen counter to pour some potato chips on a paper plate. I saw the mystery boy headed that way and made a move to intercept.

As I rounded a couple of gossiping girls, Randi slid right in front of me.

"Hi."

"Oh, hello Randi. It's good to see you again."

"Is it?"

"Is it what?"

"Is it good to see me? Because from where I'm standing, you can't keep your eyes off Ricky."

Now I was confused.

"Who is Ricky?"

"The guy that Paige has had a crush on for at least the three and half months I've known her."

"You mean Mr. Sour Cream and Onion over there?" I asked, nodding my head toward the mystery guy reaching for the potato chip dip. As I watched, the young man took the tablespoon and served a dollop onto Paige's plate.

"Yes, that's Ricky, and he seems to be a very sweet kid."

She slid a little to the side to get back in my way and then placed a hand on my chest. 

At the touch of her fingers, my train of thought was derailed.

She nudged me in the chest, but I stood there dumbstruck. She gave a harder push that got me off-balance and I took a step back. 

"Keep going, mister," she said, directing me backwards.

After a couple of steps, I bumped into a wall. Or as it turned out, my bedroom door.

She reached past my arm to turn the knob and then pushed me back through the frame.

When I was backed into the room, Randi stepped inside and shut the door silently behind her. She then leaned back against it.

"What are you doing?" I asked, suddenly feeling very nervous. "You can't come in here. People saw you come in here."

She smiled warmly. "Everyone was busy with the party. Nobody saw us come in here except Paige."

My daughter? I couldn't have Paige seeing an 18-year-old girl go into her father's room.

"Now I really know we can't be in here," I said, reaching out to pull her away from the door.

My right hand gripped her left bicep firmly, and I heard her inhale sharply. I immediately froze.

"Oh my god, did I hurt you?" I asked, looking at her arm. My eyes moved to her face, but it wasn't pain I saw. There was hunger.

My stomach flip-flopped as I watched her slowly shake her head no.

There was a clicking sound as I swallowed. My hand was still on her arm. My brain said to let go, but it took another five seconds before the hand finally complied.

"If Paige saw us come in here, then she's gonna think --" but the rest was cut off by a slender finger on my lips.

I took a breath, ready to try again at reasoning with her, but she cut me off.

"Shh, let me explain."

Her finger was still on my lips. I wondered what it would look like if Paige walked in on us right now. I stepped backward, but every fiber of my being screamed no. I wanted to move closer and pull her tight, but instead, I broke eye contact and turned to sit on the bed.

At the last second, getting on the bed seemed like a really bad idea, so I turned away and backed up against my drawer chest.

"Paige has liked Ricky for a long time, but she's never found the right situation to talk to him."

None of that explained why it was okay for us to be alone in my bedroom.

She must have sensed that I was about to speak again because she raised a finger in the air and took a step away from the door toward me.

"Paige works hard on her homework and in basketball practice. What free time she has is spent with her girlfriends -- or looking after her father."

"Looking after me? But --" Again the finger lifted, and Randi moved closer. 

"She never says it, but I get the feeling that the reason she's never pushed you harder on getting to date is that she worries about leaving you alone." 

I felt a sudden swell of love for my daughter. I turned my head and stared blankly at the closet door, lest she see the moisture forming in my eyes.

"I even think that's one of the reasons she's only considering colleges in a 300-mile radius.

"But she's 18 now, and she is drawn to this boy. And I was being serious, Ricky does seem like a sweet guy. If I were playing matchmaker, I couldn't have picked a better choice for her."

So many different emotions were rolling through me at once, it was becoming harder for me to keep up with what she was saying.

Was I denying my daughter a chance at happiness? At living her own life? Was I moping about the house? Is it because I still loved her mother so much? How could any man ask for a better child?

"We made sure that Ricky would come over, but Paige and Lori both texted me at work, saying you wouldn't give her any chance to talk. Lori had been trying to occupy you so the kids could talk, but you couldn't be deterred. They were looking for reinforcements. So, when I got off at 8 o'clock I came over."

Wait a second, what did she just say?

"Are you telling me the only reason you're here right now is so that Mr. Sour Cream and Onion can be out there with my daughter doing -- doing --"

She took another step forward and again put her finger to my lips. 

"Doing what? Humping on the kitchen table? They are just getting to know each other."

I reached up and took her hand in mine. 

"That's what I'm worried about. Getting to know her better."

"They are just talking. At the very best, maybe he gives her a kiss."

My eyes rose up from admiring our joined hands to her face.

"Hey, you do know she's a virgin, right?" Randi asked.

My face scrunched up like I'd bitten into a lemon. "Whoa, hey now..."

"She's a good girl, but I don't even know if she's been right and goodly kissed."

Right and goodly? What kind of teen-ager talks like that?

"So far, he's been smiling at her from across the room, and if that's all that happened the rest of the night, she'd probably be just fine. But now they are talking, she's on cloud nine."

I protested, "Yeah, but then things can progress."

"Sure, maybe they hold hands or have a kiss, but that's it. They are both too young and too inexperienced to go any further than that. It takes a long time to work up to having sex."

I started to say, "What would you know about teens having sex?" Then I remembered that she was only 18 herself and I had no idea if she'd ever lost her virginity.

"C'mere, sit," she ordered softly, leading me by the hand over to the bed.

I sat down, but she stood there, shifting her weight from foot to foot. I couldn't help but notice that my eyes were just below the level of her breasts, and they jostled inside her bra as she shifted.

"I started dating when I was 15. My mom didn't really like, but my dad was always away on business, so he wasn't there to put his foot down.

"There were guys who just wanted to get in my pants, and I had no interest in them. Sometimes I'd meet someone who seemed halfway worthwhile, but then I'd get bored with them eventually.

"And with Dad's job moving us around all over the country, I never spent enough time with any guy long enough to feel like it was okay to go all the way."

For the first time since Randi had moved into my way in the kitchen, my mind shifted away from Paige. I was caught up in Randi's story. I could see from this little crease that appeared between her eyebrows briefly that this was hard for her to talk about with me.

"Finally, I found someone fairly interesting. He was a junior at the local university, and he had experience in the bedroom. He was nice and smart and sexy, but even still I wasn't ready to get physical with him. Eventually we moved away, and I regretted not sleeping with him. I wanted to be with him, I wanted to make love, but I was hesitant and too tough to show him I was scared of getting hurt.

"So, in the next town we moved to, I met a cute guy at a coffee shop and ended up in bed with him within a week."

My eyes widened in surprise.

"I know, it was something of a shock to me, too. I think I was just so pent up over the college boy that I acted hasty."

"You see, I know Paige isn't going to rush into anything because she's mature and responsible, and because it takes a long time to work up to sex."

Randi came closer so that my face was nearly touching her T-shirt.

"There were times when I was kissing my boyfriend that he would reach up and cup my breast," she said, lifting a hand to caress my cheek. "At first I stopped him, but eventually it became harder and harder to resist."

My eyes were so close to her breasts that I could see when her nipples hardened, even through the material of her bra.

"Now here I am older and wiser, thinking I can control myself around any boy. And then I met you."

I looked up to find her gazing deeply into my eyes.

"You're smart and funny and caring, and when I'm around you I just want to touch you and hold you and kiss you."

Holding my head with both hands, Randi lowered her mouth to mine, and we were kissing for just the second time. A surge went through my crotch, and I realized that my cock already was pushing against my pants.

I reached up to pull her mouth tighter to mine, then I remembered we had 15 to 20 guests in the house.

"No, I can't. Paige --"

"— thinks you're showing me some guitar chords."

"But the door, if someone walked in ..."

"I locked it behind me as soon as I came in. I've been wanting this for weeks."

With that, she kissed me again while leaning in to push my head backward. As my torso drifted back to the bed, she followed, planting her hands on the quilt. 

I crawled backward to get further on the bed, and she stalked after me on hands and knees like hungry feline.

She lowered a cheek to my shirt and rubbed herself across my chest, inhaling my aroma. 

It was my turn to grab her face in both hands and pull her to my lips.

We couldn't get enough of each other, lips massaging lips and skin. She licked my neck and sucked gently as I squirmed.

I reached up and pulled her body down to mine so I could feel her breasts crushed against me, her hips against my pulsating cock. 

I couldn't get enough. I needed more. I reached down and grabbed her perfect ass in both hands and squeezed her crotch against mine, arching up so she could feel my swollen length against her.

After a couple of minutes more kissing, she pushed up and sat down upon me. 

She was too far away; I needed to pull her closer. But first she reached down and grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt. She pulled it up and over her head, revealing a lacy black bra. The kind of bra a woman wears when she is expecting to show it off later. I knew instantly that there was a sexy pair of panties to match under those jeans.

I couldn't decide if I would rather look at Randi in that sexy bra or hurry up and rip it off so I could see her perky breasts. She decided for me, reaching back to undo the clasp. 

Leaving my left hand on her ass, I held my right hand around a breast and took in the sight.

Her skin was pale, the areola pink, but the nipple was erect and a darker, puce color.

I leaned up and took the nipple in my mouth, lapping at the nub as my lips wrapped around the entire areola.

She leaned down, allowing me to lie back and keep the nipple trapped between my lips.

Randi ground her hips down on mine until she could stand the teasing no more.

She pulled her breast free of my grasp and slid down the bed. She hastily unzipped my pants and began tugging them down. I lifted up to help her get them past my rear.

Then she carefully pulled the band of my underwear outward and over the end of my lengthening shaft. 

Just as I lifted my hips again to help get the underwear down, Randi leaned in to slide the head into her mouth. The upward thrust caused a couple of extra inches to be crammed into her.

Rather than jerk back surprised, she growled and began to bob her head up and down on my cock.

I muffled a moan as her slippery tongue and lips touched me in a way I hadn't felt in several years. God, it had been so long.

She stopped bobbing and just held my swollen head in her mouth. I looked down to see why she stopped and found her left hand busily unfastening her own pants.

Jesus, this is really happening. She is going to make love to me.

With her pants unfastened, Randi shoved a hand into her panties and returned to pumping her mouth on my cock. 

After half a minute, she pulled off with a pop and yanked her pants and panties down over her legs. I wanted to see her nude, but the way she was angled blocked my view.

Just as quickly as she undressed, Randi climbed back up the bed and kissed me passionately.

I reached down to feel a soft tuft of hair above her sex. Before my fingers had even explored south, I could feel the heat pulsing outward.

My tips found her lips, drawing a gasp from Randi. I rubbed up and down the slit before pulling the lips apart with my first and third fingers so my middle one could touch her clit.

A touch was all it took. She lurched violently, pulling away from my hand.

She slid her hips up and forward, dragging a wet pussy up the underside of my rod. 




Neighborhood Dad Ch. 06



Pulling her knees into position, she steadied my cock and prepared to drop down on it. Seeing the question in my eyes, she said, "I'm on the pill." Then she lowered herself on me as we both groaned.

For the next few minutes, she bounced on my lap as I used my hands to help raise her up and drop her down.

I was so turned on that after several minutes I was somewhat surprised that I hadn't come already.

But I was so drawn to the beauty of her face and the love in her eyes, not to mention the distraction of music coming from the party nearby, that I didn't feel any rush toward orgasm yet.

I could feel Randi getting close to one, however. I pushed up and then used my arms to hold her still. Then I pounded up into her over and over. 

When it felt like she was about to burst, I thrust up and held the position while one hand came around to the front and tickled her clit.

Just as the orgasm started, I dropped back to the bed and let her fall onto me. I clutched her face and kissed her heatedly as her hips whipped back and forth in spasms.

When the orgasm tapered off, Randi lowered her head to my shoulder and relaxed. I could still feel her inner muscles clutching and releasing me.

I wanted to keep going. I needed to keep thrusting. But she looked momentarily wiped out.

I rolled us over so that I was on top. I gave her a soft kiss, then slid down. 

I hadn't spent any time with her right breast yet, so I rubbed and kneaded the tissue gently. I watched as her nipple and surrounding skin turned darker and protruded upward. Taking the sign, I opened my mouth as wide as possible and tried to suck her entire breast inside.

I couldn't even get half of the plump tit in, but sucking on her areola and licking her nipple soon had Randi squirming on the bed. 

Then I slid further down and got my first look at her sex.

She had a close-cropped tuft of hair above her clitoris, but the sides were neatly shaved.

With the pounding she'd just had, the lips were full and bloomed outward. Her clit hood jutted out, with just a hint of the pearl showing. 

Knowing she'd expect me to dive in, I instead used my lips and tongue to massage the area between her lips and thighs. I kept it going until she was writhing and reached down a hand to grasp the back of my head.

Taking the hint, I stuck my tongue between those soft lips and pushed into her hole. 

She moaned and pushed upward with her hips.

I pulled my tongue free and dragged it up to her nub. Then I alternated inserting the tip and flicking her clit over and over until she was drawing closer to another orgasm. 

As she grasped the sheets tightly in her fists, I sucked her clit into my mouth and tickled it until she exploded.

She let go of the sheets and grabbed a pillow, clamping it to her face to muffle a scream. Her hips bounced up and down like a bronco trying to lose its rider, but I held on with my arms wrapped around her thighs.

I didn't know if she would be too wiped out to want to continue, but in that moment I didn't care. I needed to finish myself.

I moved up and slid my dick home, the wet, velvety heat welcoming me in. I slid an arm up under the knee of each leg and pulled upward. 

With her thighs wide open, I hammered strokes into her, too caught up in my passion to know if I was hurting her or not. 

On one thrust, it felt like I hit her cervix, and she gave a little squeak. I paused to see if she was okay, but she pleaded with me, "Don't stop, don't stop."

After a few more minutes of pumping, I could feel the familiar tingle in my balls. I eased her legs back down as I gave a few more thrusts, then I lowered my mouth to hers for one more kiss before I exploded.

The first blast hit, then the second, and on the third pump, Randi joined me with another orgasm.

As the shots slowed and then stopped, so did our kissing. I leaned onto my forearms to support my body weight, but laid my head on her shoulder, feeling our chests heaving with deep breaths.

Previously in the locker room, the instant I ejaculated I felt guilty for thinking about Lori. As I was lying with Randi, I waited for the guilt to hit, but all I knew was satisfaction. 



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 07



 To those who have enjoyed the series, I apologize for the lengthy delay.

I never intended for there to be any sex in chapter six. But there were several negative reviews of my earlier chapters, and I felt pressured into writing a sex scene. I tried to make the sex feel like a natural progression, but it never felt 100% authentic to me. Maybe 90-95% percent authentic. I believe the characters would have made out, possibly grope for a while, but full intercourse seemed too soon.

I was so disgusted at writing myself into a corner that I just didn't feel like moving on. I considered deleting chapter six and resubmitting a new version until I saw how well received it was. 

You guys appreciated the chapter and gave it the highest average score of anything I've submitted. I have had more than 24,000 views, more than 400 votes (with an average of 4.74) and had 15 nice comments and just one bad comment, which is quite a ratio in a public forum. Thank you for your kind words, and I hope this chapter feels authentic.

Lil Henry

*****

After a minute I knew I'd better slide off. I was so worn out and so satisfied on a physical and emotional level that I was afraid I might doze off right on top of her.

Leave it to the real world to ruin a perfectly good warm fuzzy.

As soon as I pulled out, Randi was reaching to the nightstand for a couple of tissues. She tried to wipe up our escaping fluids, but then went back for more tissues.

"We made quite a mess," she said, her face reddening.

"Sorry," I said reflexively. Then she looked at me questioning, and I could sense some doubt and possibly some hurt in the expression.

"Not about this, I mean," I said, waving my hand in a circle around the bed, hoping she'd understand. "Just the mess part of it."

"Why couldn't your bedroom have an adjoining bathroom?" she asked, turning and sitting up so that her back was to me.

"That's because it's not a bedroom, it's a dining room."

"Really?" she replied as she stood and moved toward her clothing at the foot of the bed.

My eyes took in the sight as I answered. "Yeah, Paige is in my old room. The flat screen is where she used to have her bed."

"Never had sex in a dining room before," she said, stepping into her black panties and shimmying them up her hips. Her lips were still puffy from our love-making, and a familiar twitch hit downstairs. Already? Shouldn't he need a long break?

She slid her shirt back on, but without the bra so that her nipples shown through the fabric.

My body was reacting way too strongly, so I tried to turn back to the conversation.

"Yeah, well neither have I."

"Wait, what?" she asked. "Hold on, this is your room. You've never had sex here? Come on, you're joking."

"No, I'm not. Never had sex in this room before. Never on this mattress either."

She picked up my underwear from the floor and tossed the pair on the bed as she moved up to sit down and lean back against the headboard.

"How is that possible? I mean, you were married," she said, her eyes glancing over at Beth's photo on the drawer chest. "And even after, you've gotta be, like, the hottest 30-something bachelor in town. You must've 'tapped that ass' with some single moms," she said, making a crude pumping motion with her fist.

I snickered. "Really? 'Tapped that ass?'"

We both laughed at the ridiculous turn of phrase. Then as she patiently waited for a response, I reached out, picked up my underwear and slid it on before saying, "Beth and I slept together upstairs. We only converted this into a bedroom right at the very end of her illness. We had a hospital bed and a twin bed crammed in here.

"After Beth passed away, I couldn't bear to sleep upstairs again - the place where we'd shared so many happy times. And also the place where we shared so many tears when more bad news came from her doctor. I couldn't imagine sleeping on the same mattress. So I moved the furniture down here and got new bedding. I'm in the furniture business - I got it cheap."

I don't know why I said that last part. I didn't want to seem uppity about buying a new mattress and foundation, but what is lavish about that? 

And what was up with me thinking about how I worded that stupid sentence when I'd just revealed so much personal information in one breath? 

I went to my pants and put them on, looking around for my shirt.

"And in three years, you've never invited a woman back here?" she asked, her voice softer, more considerate now.

"With Paige here? I couldn't hurt her like that, seeing some new woman in her mother's house."

"But surely you've dated at least, right? You've followed some chica back to her place?"

I smiled softly. "You're the only person I've slept with since Beth."

I knew that was a potent thing to say. I watched for her eyes to open wider, maybe a steep intake of breath as she would feel overwhelmed by my admission. Being the first in more than three years carried with it a certain gravity, like taking someone's virginity.

Instead, she surprised me as usual by smiling sheepishly.

"And you're the only person I've slept with since we moved here."

It was something I could have guessed, considering her previous comments about work, school and studying. But it still felt nice to hear her say it.

I found my shirt and pulled it on. As my head passed through the neck hole, I found she had slid off the bed and was standing in front of me. She placed a hand on one cheek and kissed me gently.

My penis thought it was time for round two, but I knew better. We needed to get back to the birthday party (my daughter's birthday party) before someone got suspicious. I saw it in her eyes, too.

"I am going to hit the bathroom and get cleaned up," she said, giving me a final peck on the lips. "You might want to crack a window. It smells like sex in here."

I stayed in the bedroom for several minutes, letting it air out.

With the blood returning from my crotch to my brain, lots of thoughts and questions arose.

Most of them swirling around the same couple of points: What was I doing messing around with a kid? And now that I had, what was going to happen next?

Like the night in the hot tub when we kissed, I kept thinking, "What does this mean?" We kissed, and I didn't really understand what it meant, and now it's gone much, much further.

It's not like I could present her with my class ring or my letterman's jacket and ask her to go steady. And it's not like we could pretend it never happened - like I'd ever forget how glorious it felt to be in her arms naked.

What was Randi thinking? What was she feeling? We talked for several minutes after the deed, and yet we never had "the talk" about us.

What if Paige found out? How hurt would she be that I'd forsaken Beth for someone new? Would she be angry that this someone was a friend and a high school senior? 

Hell, if I can't understand myself what is going on with Randi and me, then how can I explain it to Paige?

The strangest thing about this very strange night was that I really wished I could talk about all this with my best friend. But Beth was always my best friend, and she was gone. No one else had filled that role since then. 

So many questions, but in the meantime, there was a house full of kids having a party unchaperoned. I needed to get back.

I gave myself a once-over and thought I looked quite normal on the outside (certainly not on the inside). I opened the door slowly and looked out across the house. I didn't see Paige and moved out into the midst to track her down. 

Over by the back door I saw Randi chatting with Lori as if everything were perfectly the same as usual. When she saw me watching her, Randi tilted her head toward the yard. 

Rather than cross the room and risk getting too close to Randi, I slid over to a window. Sitting in the rocking chairs outside were Paige and Mr. Sour Cream & Onion.

The boy was turned toward Paige, so I couldn't see his face, but I could see hers. I couldn't recall the last time I saw her smile so warmly.

Was Randi right? Was my extended grieving period having an effect on my daughter? Was she neglecting her own happiness to care for me? 

Paige was a great student, a great teammate and a great daughter. She was mature and responsible, and maybe it was time I eased up the tight grip and let her live a little.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?" asked a soft, feminine voice, as an arm slid around my waist.

Jesus, what was Randi thinking with the public display of affection in the middle of the party?

I jolted and turned to find Lori grinning up at me.

"Seems like just the other day she was picking her nose and eating boogers," she said dreamily. "Or maybe that was just the other day? She's kind of a tomboy."

I smiled and she replied, "There you go. It's okay, Pops. We all gotta grow up sometime."

"So you thought you better come console your ole coach?"

"Randi thought I should check on you," she said, leaning in to give me a hug. Then she pulled back and added, "Well actually, she said, 'Henry looks so sad. Maybe you should talk to him.' She called you Henry?"

"Well, I mean, you guys all call me Coach. But she doesn't play ball, so why would she call me that?" And then before Lori could have time to wonder why Randi didn't call me Mr. D, I changed the subject.

"So I hear Mr. Sour Cr— the boy out there is a decent kid?"

"Ricky? Yeah, he's shy and a little nerdy, but he's nice, and I think those two have been crushing on each other since junior year."

"She's gonna want to go on a date, isn't she?"

"Well, Coach, she is 18 now."

"Good point. But only if she doesn't neglect homework or basketball practice."

Lori reached up to hug my neck. "That's awesome! You mind if I go tell her now?"

"Go ahead, it's her birthday after all."

The rest of the night was so ordinary. The voices of teen-agers carrying throughout the house. Reaching in the fridge for a drink and finding nothing there - kids love to take sodas out of a fridge, but they never put one back.

It all seemed so typical, and yet inside so much had happened. I had sex with a high school student. My daughter was acquiring her first boyfriend right in front of my eyes. If I were a drinking man, I might have tossed back a few that night.

I didn't talk to Randi again that evening. When I eventually said it was time for the party to end, everyone left except for Randi, Lori and Autumn who went upstairs to grill Paige with questions about Mr. Sour - about Ricky.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 08



Basketball season began, and my free time dissipated like morning fog. I worked on my computer, I ran practices and I worked out to stay in shape.

I told myself that I was exercising so that I would be able to show the girls new drills without getting winded. But I was also hitting the free weights. After getting out of the shower one night, I found myself checking the mirror, hoping to see some muscle definition.

Was I working out to impress a younger woman?

Maybe, but we'd hardly seen enough other since the birthday party and certainly hadn't had any heart-to-heart talks, or physical contact either.

Maybe it was just a one-time thing. She had this curiosity about me that she needed to satisfy, and now that she'd scratched that itch, she moving on someone more her age? 

Maybe I was a letdown. Maybe she had some big fantasy about an older man, and I didn't live up to it, and now she doesn't want anything to do with me.

In the meantime, Heather was turning out to be a great assistant coach. Rather than focus on big things like running plays, devising a game plan and strategies, Heather had a real knack for the little things. She could see when a girl wasn't cutting right off a screen, wasn't getting her feet squared on a shot. She made little tweaks that were starting to pay off.

Lori and Kim were developing into real threats from long range. Autumn and Crystal weren't going to scare teams from the three-point line, but they were both getting much better at foul shots. 

I started spending more time down in the low post guarding Paige and Carrie.

The old coach used to have Paige trying to guard Carrie because she was the only one who could even come close to Carrie's size. Still, at 5-foot-8, she was giving up 5 inches to the center.

I was almost the same height as Carrie and wider. She couldn't just shoot over me or bull her way through me. I worked with her on developing some feints and moves. She was starting to develop some of her raw potential.

Our point guard Tessa didn't really need much coaching. She proved to be very heady, our own coach on the floor. Mostly with her, it was about becoming even scrappier than she already was. Her petite size didn't matter with the kind of effort she showed in games. 

One day in the locker room before a game, I told the team, "There is no written test you can take, no electronic sensors that can be hooked up to your body to tell the most important fact of all: how much you want to win. All the talent in the world is no good without desire.

"When I look around this room, what I see is nice talent, but even better, I see heart. You keep this up, and we'll not only qualify for the playoffs, but make some noise in the conference tournament."

Out on the floor, I gazed over the crowd. Since Paige's birthday party, Ricky had become a fixture at all the games and had been to the house a couple of times like an old-fashioned courtship.

I tracked the faces, finding myself looking for Ricky because I knew that Paige would be looking, too.

To my surprise, Ricky was sitting with a very attractive young woman. And to my further surprise, it was Randi. When the recognition clicked in my brain, she smiled and gave me a wave. I'm sure a big, dopey expression crossed my face just then.

Randi hadn't been coming to the games -- maybe she was avoiding me, or maybe she was working too much to get time off. I didn't care why at that moment -- I was just happy to see her.

I knew going into this game that we were taking on the top team in the conference. This school was a private prep academy and had lots of private money feeding the program.

I had to get a commercial drivers license to handle the old school bus we used for away games. It was a bus so old that it had been retired from the daily transport of kids to and from school, but was supposed to be okay for us driving 30-40 miles to play ball (I kept waiting for it to break down on us).

The prep school had a fancy new bus that looked like it could say Greyhound down the side.

The prep girls even had matching backpacks with the school logo on them. 

But fancy backpacks, buses and warm-up suits don't win ball games, so I thought we had a good chance of winning.

The first quarter did its best to prove me wrong.

My girls came out a little timid and made some mental errors, looking very unsure. We were down seven by the end of the first period.

My pep talk didn't do much good as we continued to fall further behind, trailing by 11 when the halftime buzzer sounded.

I looked up at the stands on the way to the locker room. Some of our fans looked stunned, others appeared to have given up hope already. I could feel my forehead tensing up -- I hated to see people quitting on us. 

Then I saw Randi.

She was clapping, and when our eyes met, she yelled out, "Hey! We got this!"

That made me smile. As I was passing by some guys from the football team, I called out, "Get your heads up, boys. This ain't over."

The players immediately started hollering out to the girls and clapping their hands. It was just the kind of emotional boost the team needed going into the break.

My first move was to step into the coach's office with Heather. We chatted for a moment about what we'd seen on the court, then I walked into the locker room.

"Alright, Dean Smith used to say that the best thing about freshmen is that they become sophomores. That was his way of saying that you make a lot of mistakes before you figure how to be productive.

"From that first half, I'd say we figured out all kinds of ways NOT to be productive, so let's try something else.

"They've had us on the defensive too often, so let's turn the tables. Let's go with our 1-3-1 halfcourt trap off made baskets. Tessa is out front; she'll funnel the dribbler toward the sidelines where Autumn and Lori will cut her off. Paige is in the middle, playing center field on any long passes, and Carrie is back protecting the rim."

I could tell from the subdued expressions that they weren't sold on the idea.

"Look, we've gotten some good looks that just haven't gone in. Sometimes all you need is to take the lid off the basket.

"I guarantee you: we run these traps aggressively, we'll force them into mistakes. Then we grab those turnovers and run up the floor for some easy baskets. After that, the rim will seem twice as big when you shoot."

After a couple more comments from me, my assistant came forward to pump the girls up before we went back out. 

Some of the fans cheered when the team came out, but not enough for my taste, so I swung by the student section and held out my hand as I jogged past. The guys began high-fiving me one after another, getting them more wound up as I went. When the girls went through their layup drills, I could see a little more bounce in their steps.

I felt like one more nudge might be needed, and I felt like saying something to my daughter. But my gut told me that wasn't the right girl. Just before the second half started, I pulled Tessa aside for a quick word.

"Tessa, some of these girls are playing scared. I've never seen you scared of anyone. Go out there and lead by example. Show these pampered private-school brats what an old-fashioned butt-kicking feels like."

My point guard, who always had such a determined expression during games, broke into a grin.

"Sure thing, Coach."

Then she did it. She simply went out there and willed her teammates to follow her example. 

Tessa hustled all over the floor. The smallest player harassed dribblers with her most tenacious defense. One time a player saw Tessa running at her and promptly let the ball bounce off the side of her shoe and out of bounds. Another girl got so scared she would lose the ball that she picked it up before she could stop her momentum and was called for traveling.

And her energy became contagious. 

When I subbed in Kim and Crystal, Lori stopped in front of me on the way to the bench.

"You were right, Coach. That rim looks like a hula hoop right now."

"Well then don't take too long catching your breath. I'm sending you right back in there."

The 11-point deficit shrunk to four by the end of the third quarter. Then we took the lead just a couple of minutes into the fourth.

The prep school girls were starting to argue and point fingers after every mistake. 

"You were supposed to break to the left," one fussed after her pass went into the stands.

"Who's girl is that?" demanded a defender after Kim got free for a three-pointer. 

Once we got the lead, some of the girls might have slacked off, but not with Tessa around. She kept her throttle wide open the rest of the way, and we won by eight points.

The crowd went nuts at the final buzzer, and I couldn't help but beam with pride.

In the stands, the students were jumping up and down, so it was hard to spot Randi, but when I finally saw her, she was pumping her arms in the air. When her eyes found mine, I hoped she would blow me a kiss. 

That was ridiculous. Such an open show of affection would surely be spotted by someone, and I would be raked over the coals about my potential relationship with a student -- albeit a legal adult.

She didn't send me any kiss, but there did seem to be some gravity in our locked eyes, and I felt warm and gooey inside.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 09



Thanks for reading my chapters as well as all the votes and comments. 

Knowing I've got thousands of interested readers waiting for the next chapter has been a needed kick to the butt. I've already gotten Chap. 10 written, too.

Lil Henry

*****

Back in the locker room, I gave the girls brief congratulations, then retreated to my office so they could shower and change.

As I sat down in my chair, all kinds of thoughts rushed through my mind. Things we could have done better, lucky bounces that could have gone the wrong way, how far this team could go if they continued to improve.

It's funny, I thought. When I first took over the team, all I could think about was how sexy these young women looked. I never thought I'd make it a week without either having a heart attack or getting fired for groping one of them in a fit of desire.

Getting an assistant coach helped some, but the real reason my hormones had been in check was sitting out in the bleachers. When Randi and I had sex, I felt satisfied in a way that no amount of masturbating could ever do. 

Staring at the girls in practice, then jerking off later didn't really scratch that itch. If anything, it seemed to make things worse. Fantasizing about Autumn, Kim or Carrie when I was alone just made me want to see more of them - to stare longer and risk being caught perving on them.

Having sex with a real person, and especially Randi, cut out all that fantasy crap - for a while.

Over the past week, I'd felt those urges coming back. It had been too long since the night of Paige's birthday party. 

It wasn't so bad when the girls were running drills. The fast movements kept me focused on coaching. But I tried to find excuses not to look at the players when they were stretching because that was just unfair. Those young, firm bodies moving slowly and seductively. 

Just the day before, I'd fought with myself a few times. Wanting to stare too long or to daydream right in the middle of practice. The worst was after practice when I was in my office. I kept imagining what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Is Kim pulling off her sweaty panties at her locker? Is Autumn leaning her head back in the shower so the water bounces off those perky breasts? What about the soap suds being massaged into Lori's magnificent ass - no, not that. Don't think about Lori like that, no matter how muscular and shapely and - dammit, stop that.

The door of my office opens directly across a narrow hall to the outside door. If I open my door and step across, the door blocks my view down the hall to the dressing area. I make it a point not to come and go when the girls are in the locker room, but even if I did, the door and the angle would stop me from seeing much, if anything.

But was that exactly right? Maybe if I opened the door, but didn't step straight across to the outside door? Could I see between the inside edge of the door and the jam? Maybe I should step out my door, then pretend to dig around in my pockets looking for something, or maybe carry a bunch of papers with stats on them and pretend that I'm busy reading them. The door could start to close, and I'd just happen to be standing there innocently with a clear look toward the long bench in front of the closest lockers.

I knew that was a crappy plan for trying to steal some deposit material for my spank bank, but sometimes the hormones talk so earnestly that you start to believe they've got a good point.

Yet, here I was in the present time, sitting at my desk with no urge at all to risk sneaking a peek. And why? Because Randi had smiled at me, and all seemed right in the world.

It was crazy, I knew that. A middle-aged man so smitten with someone barely more than a child. 

A knock at the door broke my concentration. It cracked open a foot, and Paige's head slid into the opening.

"What are you doing hiding in here? Let's get out and celebrate! Everybody's finished changing now."

The boys' game was still going on, so we hung around a bit to watch them play. However, they weren't doing as well as the girls, and none of my players wanted to stay for the rest of a blowout.

The girls insisted on going to Richie's Diner because they have the best milkshakes in town. 

Richie's is one of those retro places with the posters on the wall of Elvis, Marilyn Monroe and James Dean - all people who were long dead before any of these kids were born. And yet, the teens thought it was the coolest place in town.

Richard, the owner, called it Richie's to give it a Happy Days vibe, and there was a print of the Fonz on the wall above the big corner table where most of the girls rushed to sit. 

Oh, in case I forgot to mention it, Ricky was Richard Jr., the son of the owner, so we always got a good deal when the team showed up. 

Ricky and I slid a freestanding table over to the corner booth. Ricky and Paige sat down at the table to keep me company while Lori, Tessa, Autumn, Kim, Crystal and Carrie crammed into the big C-shaped booth.

There was one empty chair at our four-seat table, but then I heard the chair legs squeak back on the floor.

I turned to find Randi standing over me. She slid gracefully into the seat as she said, "Mind if I join the winners?"

"Heck yeah, the more the merrier," said Paige. 

"And the bigger the tab, right, Ricky?" I said with a smile. What can I say, despite my firm desire to hate his guts, Ricky did seem to be a good kid who just so happened to worship the ground that my daughter walked on.

"It gets kinda busy in here after a game," he said apologetically. "Let me get everybody's drink order while the waitress is busy."

As Ricky polled the girls, Paige turned to Randi, "Look at you, showing up for a ball game. I didn't think you cared for sports."

"I watch some, but I haven't had much free time lately. My mom has been down with a cold and bronchitis, and my dad is always away on business, so I've been kind of running the household."

"In addition to going to school, homework, working a part-time job," I added.

"Oh yeah, I've been pretty wiped out lately, but Mom is feeling better now, so I'll have more free time."

"Great!" exclaimed Paige. "You've gotta come by and try the hot tub when it's freezing cold outside. It is so awesome that you can see your breath when you go out after dark, but then the water is all warm and comfy."

"I was just thinking about how I need to come by," she said to Paige, but with a quick glance to me. "And not just for the hot tub."

"Well yeah, to see me, of course!" said Paige.

"Oh, that too, but I was thinking about taking your dad up on his offer."

I was confused. "What offer?"

"You see, I've been working and saving back a little bit of money each week. Now I've got $150, and I want to buy a guitar. Your dad said he'd show me a thing or two if I wanted to learn, so now I'm gonna start."

"Definitely!" Paige blurted out. "He's tried to show me before, but I'm useless with a guitar. And I know he'd be really psyched to have someone he could play around with."

Randi gave me a knowing look on the phrase "someone he could play around with" and I felt a blush coming on. Luckily, Ricky had worked his way back around and was asking Paige for her drink so my daughter didn't see me turn red.

Randi did though, and I felt her reach over and give my thigh a brief squeeze before returning her hand to her own lap.

Some other kids from school showed up and dragged another table over to us. The crowd was loud, and everyone was so close to us that I didn't feel like I could spend any time talking to Randi.

But that was okay because she'd be visiting soon, and we'd have plenty of time together.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 10



Thanks to everyone who has stuck with the story.

I know there has been almost no sex so far - and that has frustrated some - but there's more coming. Just let me set things in motion.

And thanks for all the votes and comments.

*****

With Ricky needed at the diner, Paige and I rode home by ourselves.

After a minute of silence, Paige spoke.

"You know, I never did hear you say one way or the other."

"Say about what?" I asked, feeling like I'd missed a sentence or two.

"Randi mentioned buying a guitar and hitting you up for lessons. Ricky asked me what I wanted to drink, and I never heard you say yea or nay. I hope you didn't feel like I was putting you on the spot by liking the idea."

"No, it's fine. She's right, I did mention it. That was a few months ago, and I'd forgotten about it, but sounds like she didn't."

"That kinda brings me up to a point I wanted to mention," she said, a little hesitantly.

I pulled my eyes off the road for a second to see her eyebrows pulled up questioningly.

"Go on."

"Well, I think the reason she didn't forget about it is that she - um, I think she has a crush on you."

I sat up a little straighter in my seat. I didn't look her way this time. I thought she might see something in my eyes that would give it all away.

"Don't be ridiculous - she's half my age. What would make you think that?"

"It's not ridiculous," she countered. "It's a little weird for me, 'cause half the girls on the team think you're cute. And I've seen Randi turn down a couple of guys who asked her out. I think she did that because she's hung up on you."

It felt like my brain just blew a gasket. Half the girls on the team think I'm cute?

"Which half?" I asked before my brain could figure out what my mouth was doing.

"Dad! Shut up! Don't pick on me - it's hard enough talking about it without you making fun of me."

"I'm sorry, I - I shouldn't have done that. But why would you think she has a crush on me?"

"She's never said anything, but I'm a girl, I can pick up on these things."

She can pick up that Randi has a crush on me, but she hasn't figured out that it goes both ways? Or maybe Paige isn't so sure about anything and is just jumping to conclusions.

"Like what? What kind of things?"

"Like personal space. You know, me and Lori and some of the other girls that have known you forever will give you a hug or a pat on the shoulder or something, but Randi never touches you. She keeps this 4-foot boundary around you. At first I thought it was just being shy, but she's known all of us for months now and she still does it. I think it's because it would feel too personal."

"That's it? That's what you're basing all this on?"

"No, Dad, there's more. Like how she always makes a point of speaking to you before we head out to the mall. A-And that time she blushed ..." 

"She what?" I asked because her voice had trailed off and I couldn't make out what she said.

"She blushed. All of us girls were upstairs talking after the Halloween party, and Autumn mentioned how she'd walked in on you while you were changing."

"Ohhh, yeah that. I'm sorry - I thought the door was locked or I -"

"I know, I know. She was all embarrassed about it. But then we were talking, and several of the girls were saying that you're cute. And someone asked Randi what she thought, and she just turned beet red and never said anything."

I was glad to reach our home and pull in the driveway. This was a conversation I was looking forward to ending.

But Paige wasn't done yet. She kept going up the walk and into the house.

"Look, I know it probably seems silly to you, but her feelings are very real to her."

I kept going toward my bedroom, wanting to vacate this talk before it got any more embarrassing, but I wasn't quick enough.

"I know you loved Mom."

That stopped me dead in my tracks. I half-turned and looked back.

"And I know what you two had was really special. I get that. But Mom didn't let getting sick stop her from living. She had a strength about her, and she wanted to share life with us right to the very end."

I wiped at a tear that was sliding down my cheek. I turned fully to Paige as she approached and took my hands in hers.

"If she came down from heaven right now and saw how you hide away in your den at night, she would be sad. She'd tell you it's time to stop mourning. She'd want you to -"

"To what? To move on, to forget her? C'mon, Paige. I can't do that."

"No, not forget her at all. Remember her and what she stood for. And know that she'd never want you to spend the rest of your life alone."

I pulled my hands free and wrapped them around her back, squeezing her to me. 

With her cheek against my shoulder, Paige said, "Now that I'm dating Ricky, I worry about you being here by yourself so much. And how much worse it will be if I go off to college."

"Hey now, don't you go worrying about that. You go where you feel like they have the classes you want - well, within the boundaries of North Carolina."

"I know, I know: in-state tuition."

We both chuckled, a much-needed break from the seriousness of the conversation.

She spoke first.

"What you need is a date."

I thought about Randi coming over for guitar lessons, and it felt like a promising scenario.

"I think you should ask out Autumn's mom."

I had already started imagining my hands holding Randi's as I explained where to put them on the neck and strings. Paige's words knocked me out of that fantasy. I pulled back to look her in the eye.

"I know Lori gives you a hard time about it, but we've all seen how she looks at you when she picks up Autumn. She's dying to go out with you - or just to jump your bones."

Yep, it had just gotten more embarrassing.

"If I wanted to go out with -" Randi. No, not Randi. Donna? No, that's Crystal's mom.

"Gina," Paige supplied.

"Gina, right. If I wanted to go out with Gina, I'd ask her out. But I'm just fine. I don't have to have a woman in my life to feel whole."

Even as I said that, it felt like a lie. I could picture Randi's smile, hear her soft voice, the feel of my hands on her hips as she rocked back and forth ...

I pulled back further from Paige lest those kind of flashbacks led to an unwanted physical response downstairs. 

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Dad. I just wanted you to know it's okay. I won't get upset if you go out on a date. You're not betraying Mom - you're, you're um ... honoring her by trying to recreate what you had. Isn't there some old quote about imitation being the sincerest form of flattery?"

My daughter was so wonderful. I gave her a warm smile, which I think she mistook for patronizing.

"I know I'm not saying this very well. I'm not the writer, but you know what I'm getting at."

"I do, and I love you for it. Now, I'm really tired and just want to have a little quiet time, okay?"

"Okay, I'll leave you be for now."

She turned and headed up the stairs. Geez, don't we ever have simple conversations anymore in this house? Everything feels so damned serious, I'm exhausted by the end. But I kept going over Paige's comments before sleep arrived that night.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 11



Over the weekend I spent a lot of time on eBay and Craigslist checking on guitar prices. I found a couple of guitars that sounded promising.

Randi was busy working all weekend, but had Monday evening free. 

When Paige and I returned from basketball practice, Randi stopped by.

She pulled off her winter coat to reveal a form-fitting cable-knit sweater and tight, white pants. I liked the way her outfit didn't show any skin, but conformed to her body so nicely.

Of course, what really caught my attention as always were her deep green eyes. And her smile topped it all off perfectly.

I led her to my office where I had the computer up and running. 

"Would you like a drink?"

"I know where the fridge is; I'll get it myself."

"Okay, watch out for Paige. She's starving and wiping out the whole kitchen."

Randi returned with a diet soda and sat down to pull out an age-worn laptop.

"I found a couple of things I liked online," she said.

"Me, too. We can compare notes."

As she was firing up the laptop, I brought up one ad that looked promising.

"This guy has a Yamaha acoustic for sale. That particular model sold for $200 new, and he's asking $110 and would probably take a hundred."

"That's okay, but I was kinda wanting something like this," she said, turning the computer around to show me a photo of a very basic electric guitar. The kind that they sell along with an amp for about $150 at Target or Best Buy.

"Oh, I hadn't thought about you wanting an electric."

"Why not?" she asked curiously.

"Well, you buy an acoustic and you're ready to have a concert. One guitar, six strings, all ready to go. If you get an electric, then you need an amp. And then you might want a chorus pedal or a distortion pedal or one of those all-in-one setups."

"A friend of mine said that playing an electric is easier for beginners because the strings are stretchier and don't hurt as bad."

"That's true to a point," I said. "They are a little easier, but not easy. The fingertips are gonna be sore at first no matter what you buy. But yeah, I think it might be help you learn better. Lemme see that sucker."

Sitting in my desk chair, I reached out a hand and she brought the laptop to me. She stepped behind me to look over my left shoulder while her hand rested on my right shoulder.

She leaned low enough that I felt her exhale upon my left ear. My eyes drifted shut for a second as I basked in the feeling of being close to her.

Then remembering that Paige was in the house, I opened my eyes and studied the ad.

"Hmm, no I don't think this is what you're looking for."

I said "excuse me" as I spun my swivel seat around so I could see my monitor. 

"This guitar is one of those cheap models that are hard to play and sound like crap. There are better guitars out there."

I pulled up an ad I had seen the day before.

Now her hand was on my left shoulder, and her voice was soft in my right ear.

"Isn't that the same thing? A Squier?"

"Not all guitars are made equal, not even from the same company. This is part of the Affinity line. It sold for $280 new, and this guy is asking $225. We could probably talk him down to $200, maybe $180."

I turned my head to the side. I was only inches from her face and felt like I could fall into those emerald pools.

"Like I said, I only have $150. It would take me a couple more weeks to save some more back."

"Don't worry about. I could front you the difference, and you could pay me back when you're ready."

She leaned back and stood upright.

"I don't think so. I'm not comfortable owing you money. Any guy money, not just you."

"I can understand wanting to be independent," I said while my wheels turned. "So how about this? We go check it out. If I like it, I go ahead and buy it myself."

I could see her about to object, so I rushed ahead with the next step.

"It would be my guitar and it would stay here at my house, right next to my acoustic. You can come over for lessons and get familiar with it, and when you have your money together, you can buy it from me."

I watched her thinking it over. Actually, I watched her chew on her bottom lip and wished I could do some nibbling, too. This would be a great time for Paige to walk in and announce she was going over to Ricky's house.

Right on cue, Paige came bouncing in.

"See anything you like?" she asked, looking back and forth between the laptop and my monitor.

"Ooh, I like that sea foam green. Is that what you're getting?" she asked when she saw the Affinity.

"I don't think that's what they call that color, but yeah, it seems like a decent prospect," I said. "What do you think, Randi?" It felt nice to say her name, even in such an innocent fashion.

"I don't know. What if something happens, and I never get the rest of the money together? You'll be stuck with it, and I'd hate to do that to you."

"Nonsense. I actually have thought about getting an electric for years and just never did it. Worst case scenario, it stays here."

"So, you'd buy it, and I'd pay you back -- and not a penny less than you gave for it."

"Agreed."

"Then what are you doing sitting around here?" Paige asked. "That's a local exchange on the phone number. Give them a call and go pay a visit."

I'd been hoping that Paige would leave me and Randi alone in the house, not boot us out, but it wasn't a bad idea.

I made the call and spoke to a man who had a familiar-sounding voice. He said it was fine to come by right then, so I grabbed my checkbook and slid it into my inside coat pocket before Randi and I dashed out into the cold.

In the car, she said, "Thanks for doing this for me."

"No problem, I like being able to spend time with you." 

The words came out of my mouth easily enough, but I suddenly felt very self-conscious about having said too much.

"I like being around you, too, but it's more than that," she said as she reached over and squeezed my right forearm. "I'm serious about wanting to learn, and I'm glad you're not laughing it off."

"Laughing? No, no. I saw that look in your eye."

"What look?" she asked.

"The first night I met you when I said how so many beginners quit because it's too hard. And you said all tough like Clint Eastwood, 'You telling me I can't learn?'"

She laughed and put her hand to her mouth. 

"Oh my god, did I really say that?"

It felt lonely when she took that hand off my arm. I eased my arm over to the center console to make it closer in case she wanted to put it back.

"I just can't stand it when men act like I can't do something because I'm a woman."

Her hand drifted back down, but instead of resting on my forearm, she wrapped her fingers around my hand.

"But now that I've been around you a while, I know that you aren't like that. You expect a lot out of your players, more than they think they can give, and then they surprise themselves by doing it. You're a good man, Henry Donaldson."

I turned my head to give her a quick smile, then looked back at the road.

I countered, "You can't stand for guys to think a woman can't do something, and I can't stand when girls fall for that same crap about themselves. I want Paige and the others to realize they've got more inner strength than they know."

Her hand felt wonderful on mine. In that instance, our ages didn't matter. All the obstacles that the world would put in our way didn't matter. All the possibilities of life were there before us.

I found the right mailbox and pulled into a driveway. 

As we got out of the car, a man opened the front door and stepped out.

"Jack Morton?"

"Henry, is that you?"

We shared an enthusiastic handshake as I asked, "How's that boy of yours?"

"Oh, he's off at college now. Been a long time since he was on that rec team of yours."

"Yeah, what's it been, seven or eight years?"

He turned and took notice of Randi.

"And this must be your little girl. Boy she sure has grown up, hasn't she?"

"I'm not Paige, I'm Miranda," she said, stepping forward and extending her hand. "But you can call me Randi."

I started to call her a friend of my daughter, but somehow that felt really awkward, especially after her holding my hand on the drive. Instead, what came out of my mouth was, "Randi works at the library. She's the one who's interested in learning the guitar. I'm going to be giving her lessons."

"Oh, okay," Jack said. 

There was a slight shift in his demeanor in that moment. When he realized this wasn't my daughter, I caught Jack trying to discretely check her out. He opened the screen door and motioned us inside. Then when Randi stepped through, his eyes dropped to check out her butt.

Where he'd spoken almost entirely to me at first, now Jack was addressing Randi and trying to gain her interest.

In my head I heard this voice say, "Knock it off, you pervert. She's too old for you." But then I remembered that I was twice her age myself and wondered if that's what people would think if they saw me talking to Randi. Some old sicko trying to defile an innocent, young maiden.

"The guitar belongs to my son, Jesse," Jack said. "He bought it a couple of years ago when he and some buddies got it in their heads that they were starting a garage band. Now he's off at college, and the guitar is just gathering dust. He wants to sell it and use the money to help buy him an iPad or something."

He disappeared and returned with the guitar in hand. I gave it a quick inspection and didn't find anything obviously wrong with it.

"Hmm, nice." I handed it to Randi, who sat down on the sofa and turned the guitar this way and that, watching how the light bounced off the finish.

"I always thought that green was little girlie for a boy, but Jesse liked it," Jack said.

I figured it was time to dicker. "I think $225 is a little high for this guitar."

"Oh it's not just the guitar," he pointed out. "I forgot there's a small amp that goes with it and a carrying case."

"Really?" I asked, surprised.

He walked out of the living room again as I turned and asked, "What do you think?"

"I love it. Do you think it plays okay?"

"We'll find out in a minute."

After hooking up the amp and seeing both it and the guitar worked, I was convinced and wrote him out a check on the spot.

As we were leaving, Jack called out, "Come back any time," but he was only looking at Randi when he said it.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 12



After I clicked in my seat belt and started the car, I saw Randi had extended her left hand out, palm up, waiting for me to take it again.

Rather than grasp her hand, I let the heel of my hand rest on hers while I stroked her fingers and palm. We chatted a little on the way back, but what we said wasn't important; just being together was.

I carried the guitar into the house as Randi followed with the amp.

Paige came bounding down the steps. "Wow, you guys are back fast."

Seeing the case in my hands, she asked, "Is that the green one? Open it up, I wanna see."

I took the guitar into the den and hooked up the amp. I played for a couple of minutes so they could see what the instrument sounded like. 

"Okay," Paige said. "You guys have work to do, so I'll go meet up with Ricky as he's finishing up at the diner."

"It's a school night," I cautioned. "Don't be gone long."

"Okay, I won't."

Then she grabbed her coat and headed out the door.

I was sitting in my parson's chair, still holding the guitar when Randi came up from behind and wrapped her arms around my neck.

I reached up my right hand and held her wrists.

With a sultry tone she said, "You, sir, are a very foolish man."

"Say what?"

"Your daughter just said she was leaving to give us some time alone, and you told her to hurry back. You could have told her not to rush, go catch a movie, but you told her not to be gone long."

"Oh. Yes, I see now. A very stupid man, village idiot in fact. I --" But that's as far as I got. She was kissing and licking my right ear. Her mouth slid down to my neck, and her tongue glided up and down the skin. That's a ticklish spot for me, and I squirmed in the seat. 

She was holding me still -- not that I would want to get away. I could feel my crotch swelling, pressing up against the guitar now lying flat across my thighs.

She switched to my left side and gave my neck and ear the same treatment. She pulled the loose collar of my shirt out to the side and shifted her lips to the top of my shoulder. She opened her mouth wide and gently pressed her teeth into my shoulder. That was more than I could take.

I stood up and placed the guitar in its case.

When I turned, she was grinning -- until she saw the hunger in my eyes. She looked a little skittish as I crossed the distance between us in two long strides and slung my left arm around her waist. My right hand reached up to caress her cheek before my fingers slid around to the back of her head and pulled her mouth to mine.

That first kiss was long and hard, then there were several more to follow, with some gasps for air.

I decided it was her turn to squirm and assaulted her neck.

"Oh god," she moaned. "It's been so long. All I've been able to think about was making love to you again."

I pulled back up to kiss her lips.

"Me too."

"I know we don't have all that long, but I've got to have you," she demanded. "Right now."

I reached down with both hands to cup her ass, kneading the firm muscles. I dropped to my knees, still holding a cheek in my left hand while the right came around to pull her sweater upward enough to expose her belly button. I kissed around her belly before wiggling my tongue into her button.

She let out a high squeak and tried to pull back, but my left hand held her still. 

With just my right hand, I undid the button of her pants and then pulled the zipper down. I pulled the flap open and leaned in to plant kisses down the opening.

Still holding her steady with my left arm, I reached down to ease her left shoe off. Then I switched places with my arms to remove her right shoe.

Hooking my fingers into her waistband at her hips, I tugged downward on the pants as she shimmied her body. God, that was sexy the way her hips moved.

As her pants and panties slid down, I planted more kisses on the newly exposed skin. As the clothing fell to her ankles, I dropped my head down to her sex and took a deep breath. She smelled divine. I nuzzled the tip of my nose in the tuft of dark hair above her clit. I could see her lips were already puffy and pink with arousal.

She put her hands on my shoulders and lifted a foot in turn so that I could remove her pants.

I wanted to taste her so badly, but she stepped back and pulled at my armpits, urging me up.

As soon as I stood, she mirrored me by removing my pants and kissing along my treasure trail. Only unlike me, once she uncovered my penis she gave it a long, wet lick from base to tip.

"Not fair, I didn't get a taste," I said.

"Sit down," she urged, pushing me toward the chair. "I can't believe how turned on I got just from you caressing my palm in the car."

As soon as my butt hit the seat, she leaned down and gave some slobbery licks and kisses to the head to get me soaking wet. Then she stood up and straddled me. Using a hand to hold my cock still, she pushed the head against her slit and ground against me for a second before sliding up and placing him at the entrance.

She was looking down at my lap as she got in position, but as she started to sink, she locked eyes and we watched each other as we joined.

She wasn't kidding about being turned on. She was very wet, and the heat engulfed my entire length as she finally sat fully down on my thighs. She started to rise again, but I held her in place and used my hands to swivel her hips in a small circle.

Randi took the hint and swirled her body around, with my thick head touching her on all sides of her pussy. She gasped, and her fingers dug into my shoulders as I hit sensitive spots inside her.

I couldn't push up much in my position, but I tried to go deeper as I pushed her hips left and right for a side-to-side sway. She felt so incredible on top of me that I only just noticed that she was still dressed from the waist up.

I grabbed the sweater and started pulling it up. She raised her arms and let me tug. As her head pulled free, her weight shifted back and her hips tilted at an angle. Something about that move brought out a groan from me. Rather than sit back up, she grabbed my upper arms and I grabbed hers. She tilted her hips forward and back, going faster and faster until she was whipping her body back and forth on my pole.

As an orgasm hit her, Randi wrapped her arms tightly around my neck and dropped all her weight right on my lap.

She moaned, then grunted in short bursts with each spasm of her muscles.

I held her to my chest, feeling her bra-covered breasts heaving and rubbing against my shirt.

"Holy shit, that was fast," she gasped when she finally had enough breath to speak. 

I still hadn't come and wasn't ready to quit, so I reached behind her to unhook her bra. With that out of the way, I took turns kissing and licking her breasts until she was ready for more.

Holding onto my shoulders again, she bounced up and down on my cock. There was more urgency than in our first time weeks ago. With no one in the house but us, Randi was more vocal, and neither of us could get enough. I wrapped my arms around her and then picked her up and slammed her down over and over until she was crying out on every thrust.

In this chair, I couldn't get deep penetration, and I wanted to be as deep as I could get.

I looked across the room, but the love seat looked too small to lay her back on it. I couldn't think any further than that, so I stood up with her legs wrapping around my waist. I carried her over to the love seat, then eased her down.

Her legs were shaky from her second orgasm, and she wobbled. I steadied her, then spun her around and leaned her over the arm of the love seat. I entered her from behind and immediately felt a difference in how far I could sink.

"Oh god, that's deep," she uttered.

I wanted to pound her fast and deep, but instead I managed to find some strength to hold back and start a slow in-and-out motion.

"That's good, just like that," she whispered.

I took the time to run my hands all over her back and over the exposed cheeks of her ass. After finally removing my shirt, I pulled her back up and hugged her so she could feel our skin touching. With her body pulled up like this, I slid a hand down and massaged her clit with two fingers. 

Randi took my other hand and placed it on her right breast. I squeezed her firm tit and rolled the nipple between finger and thumb as the left hand continued its ministrations on her hot button.

She quickly worked her way toward a third orgasm, and I could feel my own urge growing near.

My hands went back to her hips as I sped up my thrusts, slapping against her ass faster and faster until we both exploded. 

I had taken hold of her upper arms and was pulling her back to me as hard as I could. Hoping I hadn't hurt her, I slowly let go of her arms. Randi wilted forward over the edge of the armrest and slid onto her stomach with her lower legs sticking up in the air near me.

I looked down at her firm ass with her thighs parted. The sight sent another tremor through me, and I felt one last drop of semen squeeze out. I caught it on a fingertip, then reached down to spread it over her puffy lips. Her thighs pulled together, letting me know she was too wiped out for any more touching right now.

I stepped around to the front of the love seat, knelt down and kissed her on the cheek. Then I sat down and leaned against the seat, tilting my head back until I felt her shoulder. 

"I never knew sex could be that good," she mumbled with her head still on the cushions.

I tried to think back to my lengthy marriage, but I couldn't remember anything that felt so powerful, either.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 13



I screwed up the last chapter. I had another 500 words that were supposed to go with Chap. 12, and I left it off. So I'm including it at the start of Chap. 13.

Thanks for all page views and votes. The last chapter has 10,000 views already, and the first chapter now has more than 80,000 views. I am humbled, dear readers.

As for one reader's theory that I have the whole thing written and am just passing out a little bit at a time? No, not at all. I have all these thoughts in my head, but I'm only one chapter ahead of what you see here. I just finished writing Chap. 14, so now it's okay to read over 13 and get it up online.

Lil Henry

**********

Chapter 12, continued

In my mind, the entire sequence seemed really fast, so I was surprised to look at the clock and see that half an hour had passed since Paige walked out.

I took another couple of minutes to catch my breath, but I knew that we needed to get cleaned up and looking normal before Paige returned. 

I put a hand on the floor and rose up, pivoting onto my knees. But that was as far as I got.

Randi eyes were half-closed, and she smiled so warmly that rather than get up, I waddled forward on my knees and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. My right hand stroked her neck, then continued down to her lower back. I rubbed in a circle, then went back up to her neck and down again. This time my hand dropped lower, giving a gentle squeeze to her left butt cheek. I slid it to the other side and squeezed the right cheek, too.

"Mmmm, that feels good," she purred.

I leaned over her and placed warm kisses over her lower back while my left hand massaged along her shoulders and the right felt her ass. I wanted to memorize every inch of her and used my lips and hands to record the details. I felt a mole on her upper back, goose bumps across her cheeks.

The rest I'd taken to catch my breath apparently was long enough for other parts of me to recover, too. I could feel the blood returning to my cock, plumping him fatter and harder.

I slid my left hand down to help caress her ass, then moved them down to her thighs. I stretched further and planted wet kisses across her left cheek. I moved down to the curve where the buttock meets the thigh and ran my tongue across the juncture.

Randi lurched away from me, "Ahh, that tickles!"

She rolled onto her side facing me, then noticed the clock.

"Oh crap, is that the time? The diner's been closed for 15 minutes."

"Fifteen minutes? Can't be, I just looked at the -" Sure enough, time had once again jumped forward on me while I was petting and kissing Randi. "Shit, where did the time go?"

As much as I wanted Round Two, I had to shut that thought down and gather our clothes. I hated for her to leave the room, but her tush looked delectable as she hurried out of the room and up the stairs to Paige's bathroom. I jumped into the downstairs bath and got cleaned up myself.

By the time my daughter finally returned, Randi was sitting in my chair strumming on her first chord, an E minor.

Paige stopped to chat for a few minutes, then said she was heading up to her room.

As she turned to go, Paige called out, "Keep up the good work."

Randi and I grinned at each other. We certainly did intend to keep it going.

**********

Chapter 13

A few days later, Randi was back for her second lesson. And this time the evening was actually spent on the guitar. For once I wished that my house wasn't the hangout spot for Paige and her friends.

I had my guitar hanging over my shoulder by the strap. I could grab the neck and demonstrate something, or I could swing it back behind me so I could lean in and help Randi move her fingers to the right spots.

It didn't take long for Randi's fingertips to be sore, so I gave her several breaks. In between her attempts to play, I showed her different chords and techniques by playing a verse or a chorus from a song.

Learning to switch from E to A to D? Try Melloncamp's "R.O.C.K. in the USA."

Paige, Lori and Autumn were crammed into the den with us to see what Randi was learning. Paige joined in, singing enthusiastically if not pitch perfect.

Bouncing back and forth between G and C? Try the old Poison ballad "Every Rose Has Its Thorn" or for a little more advanced take, Skid Row's "I Remember You."

"God, you make it look so easy!" Randi moaned.

"I know, right?" said Paige. "Then you try it and it's not. That's why I never learned anything."

"Yeah, well Randi's got more perseverance than you," I said to my daughter.

"Hey, I've got plenty of perseverance, thank you. Just in sports, not guitar."

"I stand corrected."

"Plus, I've never had much of a singing voice to go along with it," Paige said.

"She's got a point," Autumn agreed. "You've got the singing down pat."

"See, I'll never be able to listen to Maroon 5 again because Adam Levine will sound too high-pitched like a little boy now," Lori said.

I strummed a couple of chords and started singing, "I'm on a pay phone waiting to call home."

"Stop! You sound like Elmo," cried Paige.

That cracked me up and I laughed heartily until it turned into a cough.

"See? Even your body is telling you not to try to sing that high," teased Randi.

"Think that's funny, do ya? Then break time's over. Let's put those fingers back to work."

"Me and my big mouth," she said, but with a smile in her eyes.

Before Randi's next visit, I had the house to myself with Paige over at Ricky's parents for the evening.

I thought about how much I had longed for Randi's supple form when she was in the hot tub on Halloween. Had it really been two and a half months already since then? 

I wanted to have a second chance at being in that hot tub and was glad I'd let Paige talk me into keeping it filled and heated over the winter with the thick insulating cover on it.

With half an hour left before Randi arrived, I went out back and checked the water temperature and the water quality. Both were just fine.

I went into my room, put on my swim trunks and then pulled a pair of sweatpants on over that. I moved a couple of towels to the counter near the back door. If Randi didn't want to put on a swimsuit, that was fine with me, I thought, imagining her gorgeous body with beads of moisture clinging to the skin.

When she arrived, I greeted Randi with a hug and a passionate kiss.

"Wow," she exclaimed when I let her up for air. "That was so nice I think I'll go back out and come in again."

"No chance. I'm not letting you out of my sight."

I kissed her again while sliding her winter coat off her shoulders and letting it drop to the floor.

She was dressed in a conservative long-sleeved blouse, obviously unsure whether Paige would be here or not.

After a moment more, she broke the kiss. "Whew, easy there, tiger."

"It's okay. Paige is over at Ricky's for the next few hours."

"It's not that. If we get all worked up, how am I gonna concentrate on guitar?" she asked.

"We can worry about that later. How about we take a dip in the hot tub? Clothing optional."

"That sounds nice - just as soon as we're done with our lesson."

"We can do the lesson after we get out of the tub," I said, not understanding her hesitation.

"No, we can't."

"Why not?" I asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Was I wrong to assume she'd want to have sex with me again?

"You're the one that told me that you can't play guitar after washing dishes or taking a shower," she reminded.

"Ah crap, you're right," I exclaimed, feeling a flood of relief. "The water softens the calluses and makes it hurt worse. It can even damage your calluses and ruin all the work you've done to build them up."

"Besides," she added, "I do want to learn, so we need to prioritize. Guitar first, hot tub second."

I was turned on before she even arrived and after the big kiss at the doorway, I was feeling very horny. The idea of having to turn off those feelings and have practice made me disappointed. It must have shown, too.

"Don't get all pouty," she said, reaching up to my cheek. "Think of the afterward part as a reward for all our hard work. And think how grateful I'll be to my teacher."

Suddenly things seemed much brighter.

"Okay then. Let's get to work."

Since she wanted to learn, I figured I should stop babying her and throw more at her. 

We went over some of the basic chords again. She sitting in a chair in the middle of the floor, and me moving around her in a circle keeping an eye on her hands.

I came up behind her and put my left hand on the guitar neck so I could show her a shortcut. But I was distracted by a more beautiful neck inches from my face.

The girls on the basketball team all had long hair that they pulled back in a braid or tightened up in bands. Randi's hair was short and showed off her long, elegant neck. 

I leaned closer and smelled her skin. Then I planted a soft kiss at the curve where the neck meets the shoulder.

"Mmm, that's good. Does that mean the lesson is over now?"

"No, this is just an incentive to keep you working. Let's go another five minutes."

"Five minutes?" she cried. "My fingers are killing me. You didn't make me play half this much the other day."

"Silly me. I thought you wanted to learn. Well if you're done ..."

"Five more minutes," she grumbled and reached for a D chord.

When that time was up, Randi said she would go upstairs and put on a bathing suit. She didn't want some nosy neighbor to see through the trees and catch her streaking from the house to the tub. Considering how thick the trees were around the edge of the property, that didn't seem possible, but I didn't bother bringing that up.

She came back down the stairs, with bare legs leading the way. My eyes took in the curves of her ankles, then her calves and thighs up to a red and black bikini bottom. Then came her stomach and a matching red and black top that was cut low enough to show off the top of her breasts nearly to the areolas. 

I stepped over to the bottom of the stairs and halted her on the bottom step so that her breasts were close enough I could lean in and kiss the top of each one.

"Nice bikini."

"It's not mine. I borrowed one; I think it's Lori's."

"Looks great on you, whoever it belongs to."

I wrapped my arms around her back and gave her a kiss before we walked together out to the backyard.

I don't think she had anything to worry about with any peeping toms. The cold air hit her bare skin, and Randi flew over to the tub much too fast for anyone, myself included, to get an eyeful.

There was no sitting on the edge of the tub this evening. She got into the water quickly, and I followed as soon as I got the jogging pants and T-shirt off.

Randi's teeth were chattering for a few seconds as the heat washed over us both.

"I don't know if the hot tub was worth all that or not," she said.

"Give it a minute, and it'll change your mind."

I let the warmth do its job, then I pulled her over to me, leaning her back across my lap with my arms holding her up. 

We shared a soft kiss full of meaning. Tender and affectionate, the way we felt about each other. Then it became stronger and more passionate, which was the flip side of our feelings - a hunger for the other.

After a few minutes, Randi shifted position to straddle my legs. When she lowered to my thighs, she found my erection pushing up against my trunks.

"Ohh, somebody's all ready to play." She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me hard while grinding her bikini bottom over my hard-on.

A ripple of pleasure rolled through my groin and I groaned.

She pulled back with a smile, then slid off my lap. She reached for the drawstring on the shorts, but I hadn't bothered to tie it. Pulling the loose ends out of the shorts, she shifted her grip to the waistband as I lifted up and helped her slide the trunks down.

The clothing slipped off my feet and bobbed atop the water to my right. I reached out and grabbed the fabric as Randi grabbed my manhood. She squeezed gently and gave some soft tugs as my cock pulsed and rose to its full height and length.

"I wanna try something," she said before taking a deep breath. Then her head sank beneath the water level. With her hands under my thighs, she pulled herself down. I felt her lips separate as my head eased into her mouth. She swabbed with her tongue, then gave a few sucks before coming back up for air. 

"How was that?" she asked curiously.

"It felt great. Kinda weird with my testicles floating in the water, but great."

"I know what you're thinking now."

I was glad that she knew what was on my mind because I couldn't seem to form any thought more advanced than "me like woman."

"You're thinking the same thing you were in the house. Just five more minutes of that."

I snorted. "At least five minutes, maybe ten."

"Men," she said, reaching back to untie the top. 

"Oh, I completely forget something," I said. Over at the far corner I had a small hand towel positioned. While Randi pulled off her bikini, I uncovered some candles and spread them out to the corners and lit them with the lighter I'd stowed with them earlier when I was checking the water.

"How romantic."

"Exactly. Or maybe it's because I need more light to gawk at your breasts." 

I lunged for her as she yelped and pulled back. Pinning her against the wall, I shoved my tongue into her welcoming mouth as my right hand clutched her left breast. After a minute I pulled her higher out of the water so I could drop my head to her right nipple. 

I spent several minutes licking and suckling each nipple. The nubs were cooling in the winter air and hardening, with little raised bumps around the areolas so I switched back and forth frequently. We had warmed up so much that the water now felt too hot, sweltering. Our hands stroked everywhere under the water until she couldn't take anymore.

"I need you inside me. Now."

I directed her over to the corner where her towel lay. I turned her around and leaned her over the top of the tub. Her torso draped over the towel with her ass toward me. 

I pulled up on her legs until she took the hint and stood on the seat with her feet wide. Only her legs were now under water.

I dipped down until my shoulders were back in the water, then glided forward until my mouth found her outer lips. My lips kissed, nipped, pulled and massaged her folds until Randi was pushing back at me wanting more pressure.

I firmly pressed my tongue into her slit and moved it up and down. I teased her clit, then her hole, then back again. 

Randi arched her back, trying to get more attention for her clit.

I lowered my mouth to give her what she wanted while my right index finger swirled around her opening before pushing inside. 

I pumped the finger in and out slowly as I worked her love button. 

I heard Randi's moans increasing and knew she was getting close to her first explosion. I curled my finger down to hit her G spot as I sucked the clit into my mouth.

"Oh fuck!" she cried, then her orgasm hit and her voice swung higher. "Oh oh oh," she called out as she rhythmically squeezed my finger; the side of the tub keeping her bucking hips from escaping me.

I knew she'd need a moment or two to recover, but I didn't want to stop tasting her yet. And if I didn't keep her going, she'd cool down being mostly out of the water.

I removed my finger and replaced it with my tongue, slowly twisting and bending it around her contours. At first she was lying still, breathing fast but not responding to my tongue. Then her arousal returned, and she was squirming and wiggling her hips.

I wanted to get her fully excited again before I entered her so we could pump toward a crescendo together. She was well on her way again.

Staring right in front of me, I thought I'd try something else. I slid my tongue up and flicked it across her ass and right up her crack. Her hips gave a little jerk at the contact, but she didn't move otherwise.

I slid back down her crack and began licking her backdoor. Soft little up and down movements, then side to side and circles. 

At first she was very still and quiet, then I heard her moan in a deeper voice than earlier. 

Taking that as my cue, I changed tactics and began to tongue the hole, using pressure and squirming right on the ring of muscle. I felt the circle relax and pushed more firmly. 

I eased in briefly, then a tremor struck and she squeezed me out as I heard "mmmm."

Unable to wait any longer, I reached under her and pulled her back to me. She turned around as we sank back into the water to warm up again. Our mouths practically collided together with passion, and our hands were a blur moving through the undulating water.

I grabbed a thigh and pulled it up. She raised the other leg and wrapped them both around my waist, locking her ankles as I grabbed my cock and fed it into her hungry cunt.

Water sloshed all around, putting out one of the candles and likely wetting our towels, but we took no notice.

For a while I was pushing her up against a wall, but we wound up in the middle clinging to each other for support in the roiling water.

Keeping my balance distracted me just enough to prevent me reaching the point of no return.

That didn't stop Randi, who suddenly bucked and clinched my shoulder, pistoning her hips up and down as best she could as another orgasm hit.

When it finally faded, Randi draped onto me, exhausted.

I hadn't been able to reach my peak with her, and I was upset about the timing but tried not to let it show.

We didn't talk, just held each other close, feeling the rise and fall of the other's chest. It was relaxing enough I might have lost some stiffness in my cock, except I was still inside her tight hole and there was no way the blood was going anywhere else.

Eventually she shifted a little and her pussy gave me a squeeze, which caused him to lurch powerfully inside.

The dreamy look on her face turned to a playful grin.

She pushed me back toward the corner where she had been bent over. 

"Now you sit up there," she directed.

When I sat, she attacked my pole with renewed energy. She bobbed on the knob while one hand stroked the shaft and the other rolled my balls in her palm.

After half a minute, I could feel myself tensing, and she must have felt it, too, because she eased off the pressure and speed. 

Those devilish green eyes looked into mine. She pulled back and teased, "Just five more minutes?"

"I'd never last that long," I admitted, causing her to laugh.

She eased my dick into her mouth, then further back, taking most of my length inside before giving a moan that vibrated through my rod.

My breath was steadily getting faster and faster as she took her time working me in and out of her mouth. On one descent she paused and then started forward slightly further. My pubic hair had just touched her nose when she pulled back gagging. 

She smiled sheepishly at me, which was an odd dynamic seeing this sweet expression on someone fondling my cock.

"Sorry, never gone that deep before."

"It's okay," I said, not wanting to ruin the moment.

She resumed the slow, sensual blowjob. After a while she pulled off and said, "I thought you couldn't last five minutes."

"Surprised myself."

"You don't have to hold back any longer. I know you need to cum."

With that she went back down, but with a slightly faster pace. Up and slow she went, sloppy, wet sounds coming as her lips smacked around the head. Then she went deep and paused. Going slowly again, she pushed down until her nose brushed my stomach. She'd done it; I was all the way inside her.

The sight was so incredibly sexy that my crotch lurched, and I knew I had hit the point of no return.

I warned her, "Oh god, I'm gonna cum."

She pulled back and bobbed on the head twice before my cock swelled and exploded.




Neighborhood Dad Ch. 13



My hips involuntarily jerked upward, driving me back into her throat on the first volley. She pulled back again and then grabbed the base with her hand, giving her a spacer so I wouldn't go so deep.

Six, seven, eight pulses hammered through me before the orgasm tapered off.

She gave the base a few tugs and drew out a couple more spasms before standing up, beaming at me.

"My first deep throat," she said. 

"I am so sorry about thrusting up like that."

"Don't worry about it. It was a little scary, but sexy as hell. I reached down and got myself off one more time while you were busy."

"Really? I didn't even notice."

"Like I said, you were busy."

"No shit. That was something else." I moved back into the water so we could hold each other close.

What a night. I was so glad I bought that hot tub.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 14



People said my chapters were too short, so I waited until I had a couple of chapters ready and I put them both together. I hope 5,000 words are long enough to make folks happy.

And thanks a bunch to all the people who have stuck with my story. I have had 85,000 people view my first chapter, but some chapters have had only 11,000 reads, so I know my storytelling hasn't held some people's attention throughout the run. For those who have stayed with me, I hope the story continues to entertain you, dear Constant Readers.

Oh, and HUGE thanks for voting Chap. 12 as the highest rated Mature story for the month of June. Wow, that was humbling to see my name atop the list. Keep those votes coming!

Lil Henry

*****

I hoped that sex would become a regular part of my week after that evening in the hot tub, but Life had other plans.

Between basketball season heating up, Randi's job at the library and the frequent visitors at the house, there just wasn't a chance to be alone. 

Still, I couldn't complain. I was busy much of the time, but it was a good kind of tired when my head finally hit the pillow each night. I had lost touch with much of primetime television. I made time for some college hoops, often with Paige and a teammate or two, and that was good enough for me.

Ever fill out one of those Nielsen ratings books? I did that before, writing down what I watched for a week. If I were chosen for a week during that time, most of the spaces would have been blank. And I didn't care.

The regular season ended, and the basketball team was tied for first place in the league. Then we won our conference tournament and advanced to the state playoffs.

Some of the girls had really improved over the past few months. I could see some of them getting Division II or III offers to go to college. Forgive me for bragging, but Paige had blossomed the most. She was our do-everything player. She had spent so much time banging with Carrie in the post that she'd developed into a decent inside player, but she was better off the dribble. And thanks to my assistant coach, Paige's free throw shooting was stellar.

While at the conference tournament, the other coaches and I got together for a meeting. We voted for the all-conference team and player of the year. The private school coach talked up his best player, but to my pleasant surprise the rest of the men and women in the room mentioned my team. 

What a nice run East was on, they said. What a big jump Paige had made since last season. How one of the games we lost was because Paige fouled out and wasn't there at the end of the fourth quarter.

By rule, a coach isn't allowed to vote for his own player, so I voted for the private school's girl, but the rest of the votes came my way. Paige was named player of the year.

Lori and Tessa also made first team all-conference, while Carrie and Autumn made second team.

I even finished second for coach of the year, something I wasn't expecting at all.

That was one of the happiest days of my life.

Valentine's Day was probably the lowest point during this time.

I was working on a furniture story on the computer when Paige and Ricky came in together.

"Hey, pops."

"I'm in here."

"Look what Ricky got me," she said, holding a rose and a teddy bear with a heart-covered T-shirt. "Isn't he the sweetest?"

Ricky looked very embarrassed at the compliment - another reason why I liked the boy, he was humble.

"Your birthday was, like, three months ago," I said, unsure why she had gifts.

"Three months tomorrow, to be exact," she noted. "That's how long we've been dating. But this is for Valentine's Day. Don't tell me you don't know what day it is."

"When you're 38, you don't take much notice of such a pseudo-holiday."

"It has nothing to do with how old you are. If you had a girlfriend, I bet there'd be a dozen roses on the kitchen bar."

That thought stumped me. Was she right? If I were a man in a normal relationship, would I be carrying flowers and chocolates?

"I'm gonna get my stuff together for practice," Paige said.

"Mr. D, is it okay if I grab a drink out of the fridge?"

"Sure, Ricky," I said automatically. 

What I was really focused on were the gifts in my daughter's hands. How many other girls at school had flowers or bears or chocolates or any number of presents to show how appreciated they were?

For weeks now, Randi and I had been in our unconventional relationship. We didn't go out to eat in fancy restaurants - heck, we didn't even eat alone together at the Sizzler. We didn't go to the movies unless it was in a group, and when we did go in mass Randi and I didn't sit side by side for fear of getting caught holding hands or whispering in the other's ear. 

Randi didn't have any roses or stuffed animal. If she had received a gift - even through a third party - people would want to know why. Maybe her mother would ask questions, but certainly Paige and her friends would.

"Who is he? What does he look like? Why haven't we met him?" I couldn't put her through that scrutiny.

And yet, look at what she was missing out on. I saw the smile on Paige's face, but there would be no smile like that for Randi, and it was because of me.

She was young, beautiful, smart, funny and considerate. There had to be any number of guys in her school and the surrounding schools that would love to date her. Those guys could take her to dinner and a movie. They could buy her some cheesy necklace with a heart pendant. They could take her home to meet the family. What could I offer? I was just some pathetic middle-aged man trying to recapture long-lost feelings at the expense of her youth. She deserved first dates and homecoming dance and going off to college to meet cute hunks.

Since Paige had been dating Ricky, I could see how much my daughter had missed out on her first three years of high school. That was my fault. I was against her dating, and then she also felt obligated to spend time with me. I didn't want to hold another young woman back.

As much as I cared about Randi - and it was surprising to me just how much that was - maybe it wasn't in her best interest to be with me. Maybe as the adult in the situation, I needed to be the mature one and walk away. But could I? She had gotten so deep into my heart, could I let go? I had never used the L word with her, but if I were being honest with myself I had already fallen. 

Practice that night was terrible. The girls were too busy gossiping about their day, and I was too distracted to keep them in line.

Later, I retired to my bedroom, saying I wanted to read, but I never made it more than halfway down the first page. I had too much on my mind.

I didn't have a chance for any heart-to-heart talk with Randi as Valentine's Day came near the end of the regular season. Then came the three-day conference tournament we won. Then after the coaches' meeting and the awards, I was flying too high to think about anything as depressing as walking away from Randi.

One night upon returning home with some snacks, I met Paige near the front door.

She had one towel wrapped around her head and another around her torso.

"Hey, Dad. It was so freezing cold running out to hot tub, but the water felt great." Then she spied the bags I was carrying.

"Are there any chips in those bags?" she asked with a widening smile. Where she was standing on the bottom step, she leaned over to try to see what I held. 

"Nope, nothing in here but vegetables and carrots."

"Carrots ARE vegetables," she said. 

"Oh, then there's nothing at all here for you."

"And I know that look, you're trying to hog all the chips. We're gonna get changed, and then you are gonna share, mister."

She turned and went up the stairs just as the patter of bare feet coming from the kitchen turned my head that way.

Tessa quickly strode down the hall and followed Paige up the stairs.

"Hey, Coach," she called out as she passed. 

I couldn't help but watch her calves ripple with muscles as she pushed up the stairs.

It had been too long since Randi and I had been in the hot tub together, and I was feeling the effects of going without.

I started toward the kitchen and heard the sound of the back door opening. Looked like one more person was coming in from the hot tub.

As I entered the kitchen, I could see Randi with her back to me near the door. She had a towel on her head and was using the other one to dry her arms.

I recognized the red and black bikini she had worn with me. Maybe it was because I was so horny, but her ass looked even finer than usual with the bottom pulled over her tight buns.

With Paige and Tessa upstairs, I couldn't resist a little flirting.

When she leaned over to dry her thighs, I said in a soft voice, "Damn, you look sexy. I could just eat you up."

Randi froze for a second, then stood up straight and turned around as I was setting one handful of plastic bags on the counter.

Only when she was fully turned did I realize it wasn't Randi.

I pulled open the refrigerator door just as I locked eyes with Lori.

She looked mortified, and I had turned to stone.

Her eyes darted left and right as if looking for someone else, hoping for someone else, that I might have been talking to.

Lori pulled the towel up against her body, struggling to hold it in place while simultaneously trying to pull an end around behind her and also slipping toward the hallway.

I felt the urge to say, "I'm so sorry. I wasn't talking to you."

But how could I do that? She'd want to know who I DID mean to say that to. At that same instant I suddenly recalled Randi saying that it wasn't her bikini - she had borrowed one and thought it might be Lori's.

I remained like a statue as Lori mumbled something about needing to get dressed. Then she fled down the hall and up the stairs.

The thud of the bedroom door closing allowed me to move again.

"Shit!" I hissed, finally closing the fridge door. "Shit, shit, shit."

Lori was Paige's best friend. They told each other everything. How much crap would there be and how big a fan would that crap hit when Paige found out about this?

Either the two of them will think I'm a sick pervert who was hitting on an 18-year-old surrogate daughter - thereby ruining all trust between us - or I come clean about Randi, and they become completely certain that I'm a sick pervert who is having sex with an 18-year-old.

Talk about a rock and a hard place. I couldn't see any way out of this.

A little while later, I heard footsteps descending as I sat in my recliner. Turning my head slightly to see the doorway of my den, I watched Paige and Tessa cross by without stopping. Then with those two in the kitchen, I heard the front door open and close.

Paige and Tessa stopped in to chat for a moment as if nothing was wrong, and I knew that Lori hadn't revealed anything upstairs. Maybe Lori would never say anything. Maybe she would just forget this, and we could move on.

At practice the next day, Lori and I did a fine job of not making eye contact.

But I can't say that things went smoothly.

She spent a lot of time looking at the floor with her shoulders slumped. She let a pass and a couple of rebounds slip through her hands. She didn't find the right teammate during passing drills. 

She struggled mightily, which was a bad sign with the state playoffs about to start.

For the first round of the playoffs, we had a home game at East. With the crowd behind us, we won by 22 points. Lori had as many turnovers as points (three).

I knew she needed someone to talk to her, but I couldn't be that person, and I surely didn't want her confiding in my assistant coach, either, so I just left things alone.

Then we went on the road for the next three games. I felt good about our chances in the first couple of games, but the third road trip was against a team with a 25-6 record. We beat that team by two points, which was a huge rush for the girls, coaches and fans alike.

Lori's joy seemed subdued, and she hadn't been back to the house since the incident.

During one of the games, she was resting on the bench, and I called her name. 

She stood up and started toward the scorer's table, but I had noticed something in her opponent. Like poker player with a tell, she was signaling when she was going to shoot by this little slide step with her left foot.

As Lori was walking past, I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She flinched, glanced at me and then looked at the floor.

"W-watch 13's left foot," I stammered. "She's got a hitch."

I don't know if she had any idea what I meant by that, but it felt really awkward talking to her after the way she had reacted to my touch.

The win put us in the regional semifinals - similar to the elite eight in the NCAA Tournament.

Rather than play on either team's home court, the top four schools from the western half of the state were all traveling to Hickory for a couple of Friday evening games. If we won, then we would either drive the 90 miles back home or just stay overnight in Hickory because we would have to be back there on Saturday to play for a chance at the state title.

One night after practice, I polled the parents to ask their opinion. 

"It's almost March, but Hickory is over in the mountains where they still get snow this time of year. If we decide to drive back Friday night, we might be in slick conditions. And if it snows bad enough, we could have problems getting back up there on Saturday."

"If the team stays up there overnight, what does that mean for the girls? How will all that be arranged?" asked Lori's dad, Charles.

Charles and I had become pretty good friends over the years that our kids were playing together. That friendship brought me a wave of guilt over what had happened with his daughter and the awkwardness that was still there. But for the sake of the team, I pushed on.

"I called a couple of hotels in the area. There are some rooms that have two full-sized beds. The girls have never minded sleeping two in a bed on sleepovers, so we could theoretically put four girls in a single room. The whole team would only need three rooms. Each player could put in $15 or $20, and that would cover the cost."

"What about keeping an eye on them," asked Autumn's mom, Gina. "Are you and Heather going to be able to keep up with them all?"

"If there are only three rooms to watch, it wouldn't be too hard to keep track of them," I said. "But I expect there will be a handful of parents who want to stay, too."

Charles looked at me and said, "Maybe I could split a room with you and be a chaperone. Somebody else might wanna bunk with Heather."

"Sure," I said automatically. "Why not?"

As my eyes cast back across the parents, I could easily read the expression on Gina's face. It said that she would be perfectly willing to share a bed with me for a night. She and a few others volunteered for the trip.

The Thursday before the team trip, Paige wanted to spend some time with Ricky so they planned dinner and a movie after practice.

Not that it was really a practice. The girls didn't even dress out. I had gotten a copy of game footage from a coach who had already played our Friday opponent, Cherokee. I had watched the DVD three times the night before so I played it for the girls and pointed out details they needed to remember.

Paige left straight from the school to Ricky's house, and I headed home for a guitar lesson. It was the first chance in a couple of weeks to be completely alone with Randi, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of hormones on the drive. 

As soon as she walked through the door, I wanted to tear Randi's clothes off, but I remembered what she said about putting the lessons first.

Still, I greeted her with a passionate kiss before taking her hand and leading her to the den.

"First things first," she said, reaching into her jeans pocket. She pulled out a wad of money. 

"This is the full payment for the guitar. Now I can take it home with me to practice between sessions."

She extended an arm with the money, but I put up my hands.

"Hold on now. I don't want you putting yourself in a tough spot financially. You take as long as you need to pay on that, or just forget it altogether and let it be my gift to you."

"We had a deal," she said, putting her money-filled hand on my chest. I could see the firmness of her resolution through her deep green eyes.

"Okay, if you say so."

I accepted the money with my left hand while my right pulled her hand to my lips. I kissed the space between each knuckle, then I looked up to see the desire smoldering in her eyes.

"Since we have the house to ourselves for the next three or four hours, why don't we have a little fun with practice?" she said.

"I like where this is going."

"I'll sit in the chair and you take the loveseat. You will strum the chords to a simple song, and I will attempt to play the chords back to you."

It sounded like she'd already put some thought into this impromptu game. 

"The entire song or just a couple of lines?" I asked.

"A couple of lines or one verse, something like that. And if I mess it up, I agree to take off one article of clothing. If I do it right, then you have to remove a piece."

"Kind of like strip poker, but with instruments?"

"Exactly."

Minutes later I was strumming the opening D chord of Tom Petty's Free Fallin'. She played the pinkie move back perfectly, so I pulled off one sock.

"A sock? That's all I get for my trouble?" she asked with eyebrows raised.

"That's right, and the next sock will be the one I'm using to pad my underwear."

"You don't have to pad anything. You're doing just fine in that department," she said, licking her lips. 

"If you can get the pinkie part down for that song, then maybe you can do a harder version," I said, playing the chords for the first verse of Bon Jovi's Wanted Dead or Alive.

"Seriously? I'm supposed to do that?"

"What? It's just four chords," I said all innocently.

"Fine," she grumbled. "Show me again."

She gave it a valiant try, but she just couldn't get the little trilling part right.

Shooting me the evil eye, she reached behind her and unfastened her bra. She pulled the garment out through the armhole of her T-shirt and tossed it on the coffee table.

"Now THAT is how you pay off a bet, sock boy."

She might have been acting grumpy, but the nips pushing out against the fabric of her shirt told a different story.

So it continued for close to half an hour. I would play a simple song that I felt like she could handle, but then I'd try one more difficult just to keep her clothing coming off.

I had been avoiding songs with an F chord because I knew she had trouble with that one.

But eventually it came down to me in my boxer briefs and Randi in her bikini bottoms with her bare breasts on display.

I began to strum an old Alabama ballad, then provided the vocals, too, for Lady Down On Love.

Randi pulled down her brow in concentration and flexed her hand a couple of times before starting. She got the C and G just fine. I felt a smirk coming to my lips as she reached for the F, but to my surprise she played it perfectly.

"Ha!" she cried out. "Take that. You thought you had me, but now you've got to hand over those panties, loser."

I couldn't really see a downside to being naked in front of a smoking-hot teen who wanted to have sex with me, but I pretended to be pouty since she seemed so pleased with herself.

Sitting my guitar on its stand, I reached down and carefully eased the elastic band over my growing erection before dropping the underwear to the floor. With my toes I picked the clothing up and dropped it onto the pile upon the table.

I took a step toward her, saying, "I guess that's enough music for today."




Neighborhood Dad Ch. 14



She extended a leg and put her foot on my thigh.

"Not so fast, lover boy. You lost, so now you owe me something more."

"More? I'm all out of clothes."

"So I guess you owe me a song." She lifted her guitar higher and said, "Now put this away, grab your Yamaha and meet me in the bedroom."

Her breasts looked very inviting as she stood, but I couldn't take advantage of the situation with my hands full of guitar. I watched her step past me and pause at the doorway. Turning back to look at me, she raised her left leg and brought it up to the doorframe. She rubbed her inside thigh against the wood, then paused leaning against the doorway like a pinup model in an erotica shoot. 

Some people have to work at being sexy. On her, the sex just oozes off so naturally.

She slid around the jamb and headed for the bedroom. I quickly got her guitar put in its case, then grabbed up my own.

I entered the room to find her propped up against the pillows at the headboard, her breasts still sitting on her chest with the tightness of youth rather than sliding off to the sides.

"If you know that old Alabama song, then I'll bet you know another one, too," she said. "I wanna hear Feels So Right. And you better do a good job, or maybe I'll just get dressed again."

"You're not going anywhere," I practically growled as a devilish grin formed on her pretty face.

"Whisper to me softly, breathe words upon my skin," I sang.

As I continued, she cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples while her thighs rubbed together. She was still wearing her bikini panties and slid a hand inside when I reached the chorus.

She was obviously fighting the urge to rip the guitar out of my hands, but seemed to enjoy delaying the gratification to the end of the song.

By the final line, she had spun around on her hands and knees and was stalking toward me on the mattress.

When I finished, I lifted the guitar strap over my head and laid the instrument in the floor at the foot of the bed. I stepped closer to where she was kneeling and held her cheeks in my hands as I planted a warm kiss on her lips.

She wasn't in the mood for soft and romantic. Her hands went straight to my crotch, tugging on my cock as the other hand rolled my balls around the palm.

She didn't need to spell it out for me. I pulled her mouth tighter to mine, then pulled back to see the excitement in her eyes. 

I practically tackled her backward on the bed, our hands trying to make up for weeks of pent-up desire in a matter of seconds. 

Her neck looked inviting, and I dove in to kiss and lick the skin. I was trying to pour all my passion into my soft and tender kisses, but it wasn't enough. 

"Don't you dare tease me," she warned through gritted teeth.

I kissed harder, then sucked in for a second - but not long enough to leave a hickey. Then I slid over to the top of her shoulder and sucked harder. Her shirt could hide any love mark there.

My right hand squeezed her left breast, and I raised my right thigh to apply pressure to her panty-covered crotch. She moaned and squirmed, so I switched from sucking to biting down on her shoulder, causing her to cry out.

"Yes! God, I want you. Get this underwear off me."

She was reaching for her panties, but I caught her wrists and pinned her arms to the mattress by her sides. 

I looked down between our bodies and saw how my rough handling of her breast had caused the nipple to harden. I lowered my head to that tip and lapped hard a few times before sucking it into my mouth. With my lips over the edges of my teeth, I gnawed on nub and flicked it with my tongue. When she began to writhe in earnest, I opened wide and sucked in her entire areola and as much of her breast as I could. Then I pulled back until I had the nipple trapped between my bare teeth, increasing the pressure to see how much she could take. 

When she let out a moan, I flicked my tongue up and down over the tip again and again as my thigh ground into her sex. To my surprise, that was all she needed to peak, quivering so hard the entire bed shook before bursting into full spasms and crying out, "Henry! Henry!"

I let go of her arms and slid up to kiss her again and again. Moving back down the bed, I moved both my knees to the left, outside her thighs, so I could remove her underwear. I only got the clothing down to her knees before giving into the urge. I dropped my head down and kissed all around her upper thighs before nuzzling my nose through her short, brown curls. I breathed in deeply, sniffing her arousal. I needed to taste her.

I whipped the panties down and off her feet before diving face-first into the V of her legs. My hands slid under her cheeks as my tongue went straight to her opening. Her clit might still be sensitive from that first orgasm, but I could taste her all I wanted until she was ready for more. And lick I did for several minutes before she reached down with both hands to grasp my head.

I thought she was pulling me up her clitoris, but she wanted me on top of her.

"C'mere, I need you inside me right now. Come on, Henry."

I loved hearing this hot, young woman saying my name. It was as if we were no longer just mammals rutting from instinct, but that she cared deeply for me. 

Up to that point I had been moving hard and fast, letting my passion lead me. But as our lips met, I felt a surge of emotion for this amazing creature. Rather than slam into her and pound away, I eased myself into her slippery tunnel and sank in slowly.

After a few cycles in and out, Randi's fingernails dug into my upper arms.

She pushed me to the side, and I let her roll me over on my back. I repositioned into the middle of the bed as she straddled my lips. She wasted no time dropping onto my lap, embedding my shaft fully inside her.

With a devilish look in her eyes, Randi reached down and grasped both of my nipples firmly and twisted.

I attempted to muffle a cry, but a deep growl came out instead. 

She bounced up and down, spitting out words on every downstroke. "I ... told you ... don't ... fucking ... tease ... me." With that, she pounded my cock deep inside, her ass slapping loudly on my thighs over and over.

After several minutes, I knew her legs had to be getting tired, but she couldn't get enough. I grabbed her ass in both hands, holding it up so that I could pound up into her until she exploded with her second orgasm.

This one was much more powerful than the first. She clawed at the sheets, and her legs slid around on the bed as her inner muscles gripped and released, gripped and released.

She dropped her head to my chest, obviously wiped out, but I still needed more. After giving her a minute for her breathing to slow, I pushed her up into a sitting position, then struggled to sit up myself. I put a hand behind one of her knees and pulled it toward me. She got the hint and slid her leg around to go behind me. Then the second followed, her ankles crossing behind my back..

I spun us both around to the side so my legs could dangle over the edge of the bed as my hands under her cheeks kept her firmly seated on my cock. 

Once I felt stable, I used my hands and hips to create a rocking motion. We ground our bodies together as I attacked her neck and shoulders with kisses, licks and bites.

Randi discovered a way to tilt her hips up and down as I pulled her back and forth on my pole. We were both sweating heavily now, and my hands were sliding around her ass. My right arm wrapped around her back to get a better grip, and my left moved to the center of her butt to keep pulling her back and forth on me. 

My slippery fingers found her crack, and I dipped lower to touch her puckered ring with my middle finger. The sweat and love juices that had soaked her entire crotch made her skin very wet, and my fingertip slid easily back and forth over that other opening. 

Randi groaned and began to snap her hips up and down harder. I probed the tight opening, then decided to hold my hand very still. When she pulled her hips up and into me, my finger almost lost contact with her. Then when she drew back away from me, her ass pushed back at my finger. Her ring was so tight that her skin pushed inward as my finger refused to give ground.

She kept her hips going in a steady rhythm, forward and back, forward and back. On one of those thrusts backward, my finger pierced the ring and went in to the first knuckle. A jolt went through her entire body as she grunted. She gave just a brief pause, but she and I were both building toward release, and she couldn't stop her hips now.

Forward and back she moved, and my finger dipped a little deeper on each trip until it was buried fully inside. 

Randi pushed her chest against mine and tilted her hips down as much as possible. That pushed her ass toward me even more, but also put her clit against the base of my shaft. She ground her button against me, causing my finger to explore all sides within her backdoor.

"I'm getting close," I warned.

"I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna - oooooooh," she cried out. She bucked so hard that she might have been flung off me, but my right arm around her back and my left finger buried in her ass held her to me. Her muscles began to pulse and squeeze both my cock and my finger, a feeling so intense that I quickly joined her in orgasm. My right hand moved down to her butt cheeks, and I clamped her pussy to me as I came over and over.

I could feel her going limp, so I eased my finger out of her hole and wrapped both arms around her. I pivoted so that I could lay her back toward the pillows. I was going to pull out and slide over to her side, but she grabbed me and said, "No, don't leave me. Don't ever leave me."

In this missionary position, I had to use my forearms to keep my weight off her for a few minutes until she dozed off to sleep. As gently as I could, I pulled out and moved to her side. She roused long enough to turn to her side and scoot back to spoon against me. I wrapped my top arm around her and held her as she drifted back off. The whole evening felt so special and magical, and yet at the same time it felt normal. Or maybe not normal, but ordained - like all this was meant to be.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 15



Chap. 14 finished July with an average score of 4.76, making it the highest rated new story in July in the Mature category by one-hundredth of a point. 

And Chap. 13 was the highest-rated new mature story in June, so thanks a bunch to all those who voted five stars. It certainly has been a boost to my confidence level and keeps me wanting to write.

I don't know if this chapter will score quite as highly, but it has a lot of necessary stuff happening.

And thanks for your votes!

*****

The next day we boarded the team bus and headed toward the mountains. We went straight to the gymnasium and walked through the facility to become familiar. Then we went to the motel to drop off our overnight bags.

I had spent much of the trip debating what to do about Lori. I still hadn't spoken to her about what I'd said to her in the kitchen that day. And she was still acting all out of sorts. 

There would be plenty of time to talk after the game that night, but I couldn't risk that for the team's sake. If Lori didn't get back to playing like we all knew she could, then there might not have been a Saturday game to worry about.

Also, I could see that Paige was upset. She didn't know why Lori was staying away from our house or why she refused to talk about what was wrong when she was with Paige at school.

I decided to have that talk as soon as we got our rooms.

Charles walked with me to our room, and I gave him the speech that I'd prepared.

"Charles, if you don't mind, I'd like to have a private word with Lori. I know she's been a little off in practice and games, and I'm sure you've tried talking to her, but I'd like to give it a shot, too. Would you mind stepping out for a few minutes so she can feel free to be open?"

"Yeah, sure. You're right, she hasn't been herself lately, and with her struggling, I know you've got the whole team to consider. She hasn't said a peep to me, but maybe she'll listen to you."

I went to Paige's room to see Lori, but she wasn't there. Autumn, Tessa and Kim were sharing the room with Paige. 

I could see the pain in Paige's eyes as she said, "She wanted to stay with Carrie and Crystal instead."

Walking to the next door, I knocked and Crystal answered. Seeing Lori sitting behind Crystal on one of the beds, I called out, "Lori, may I have a word?"

She made no move to rise. "Uh, okay. What about?"

"Let's talk over in the room your dad and I have."

She looked like a death-row inmate headed for the electric chair as she slowly eased up and puttered her way to the door. 

I led the way to my room and pushed it open. I held it and beckoned her to enter. She hesitated before stepping in, like she was expecting me to take advantage of her. This conversation wasn't off to a good start.

"Where's my dad?" she asked, walking deeper into the room to check the bathroom.

"Checking on Heather. He'll be back in a few minutes. Have a seat."

I pulled out the writing desk's lone chair and she lowered to the edge of one of the double beds.

"We should have had this conversation a long time ago, but I was too embarrassed to bring it up," I admitted. 

She didn't respond, and I ran through a whole laundry list of things I could say next - mostly truths but also some outrageous lies.

"I said something highly inappropriate to you, and I didn't even have the decency to apologize," I began. "The truth is that I was too shocked to say anything because I didn't know it was you."

Lori had been staring at the floor, but at that comment she looked up.

"What I said to you in the kitchen wasn't meant for you."

"It wasn't?"

"No. I thought you were someone else, and when you turned around, I was dumbstruck and mortified and about a hundred other emotions and I didn't handle well at all. I'm the adult, and I should have done a better job of communicating with you."

"Wh-who did you think I was?"

This was the question I knew she would ask, and the one I was dreading the most.

I went with a mixture of truths and lies.

"When Paige started dating Ricky a few months ago, she became worried about me sitting around the house by myself. She's been on my case about getting out and experiencing life. She even mentioned me going out on dates.

"But that felt wrong to me. I loved her mother very much, and nobody else even interested me. And even if I did find someone who caught my eye, I don't know that I could let Paige see me with another woman, even if she did suggest it herself."

Lori was eyeing me with a mixture of confusion and unease. Which was probably a good instinct because here's where the lies began.

"What I decided to do was reach out to some ladies in town without Paige knowing anything. I figured that I could casually date and I'd only let Paige know if I found someone worthy of meeting my daughter."

I could see Lori was curious now and wanted to know more.

"So I started going out when she was busy with Ricky or you girls, and I never said a word to her about it - and I still haven't. Paige doesn't know anything. And some of these women were interested in me in a physical way, and I'm an adult, so I went along with it. 

"One of these women had been to the house before and shared the hot tub with me. On that occasion, she was wearing a red and black swimsuit. When I walked into the kitchen that day and saw someone with a red and black bikini, I naturally assumed it was her."

The story felt pretty flimsy, but I couldn't think of anything better, and I couldn't tell anyone the truth about Randi and me. 

She looked like she was about to speak, so I shut up and let her build up to what she had to say.

"Wa-was it Gina?"

"Who?"

"Autumn's mom. I know we kid you about her sometimes; is that who it was?"

"Oh. No, not Gina. I haven't been out with any parents. I've been trying to keep the team and my personal life separate."

She mulled this over a few seconds and hit me with a question I wasn't expecting.

"If it wasn't a parent, then why would you think this stranger was with your daughter?"

Okay, maybe I should have anticipated this, but you see, this is why I never lie - I just stink at thinking up all the ways a lie can go wrong.

"Say what?"

Now she really looked suspicious.

"Paige and Tessa went into the house before me. You must have seen them, so whoever you saw drying off at the back door must have been with them. But if you haven't introduced any of your dates to Paige, then why would you think that one of your lady friends was at your house hanging out with your daughter when you weren't home?"

Shit, that was a damned good. I didn't have an answer.

"You know, that's a really good question, Lori. And all I can say is 'I don't know.' It doesn't make a lick of sense that I would think one of my, uh, lady friends as you called them, would be soaking with my daughter. I guess I wasn't thinking at all. I just made an assumption, and my mouth opened before my brain could process anything. I swear to God that I had no idea that was you at the back door."

"Well if that's the truth, then why didn't you say anything then or any time since then?"

I held my hands out to my sides and shrugged.

"Number one, I felt ashamed about what I said to you. I just couldn't bring myself to look you in the eye after that horrible day. Secondly, any explanation I gave would have to include me telling you about going on dates. I still haven't told Paige anything about lady friends, and I figured you would tell her since she's your best friend."

Lori genuinely seemed puzzled now. There were still holes in my lies, I'm sure, but enough of it started to seem plausible. And maybe she wanted to believe my story because it was easier to live with than what she had thought before.

"So you didn't think it was me drying off?" 

I shook my head no.

"And you said something to me that sounded pretty ... I don't know. But I guess if you thought it was someone you've already slept with, it would only seem flirty."

I simply nodded and let her talk.

"Saying that to someone half your age - geez, I bet your face was really burning when I left the room."

"Oh yeah."

"And I totally misread the situation and freaked out. Oh my god, I'm so embarrassed now." She dropped her face into her palms.

"God, I'm so stupid. Of course you wouldn't be after some high school girl. What was I thinking?"

Just as she said that, the lock disengaged on the door.

Lori and I both turned to see her dad enter the room.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I come back too soon?"

Lori laughed, the first one I'd heard from her in a long time. "No, I needed to get going anyway," she said, rising up to give her dad a peck on the cheek.

Charles was completely baffled as Lori left the room.

"Is everything okay now? Did she tell you what was going on? Because she hasn't told me a thing."

"Nothing serious, just some misunderstandings. I think things will improve from here on out."

At some point during the talk with Lori, I'd felt my phone buzz quietly on my hip. I pulled it out of its holster and saw I had a text from Randi. We didn't usually send each other texts - maybe as some sort of secrecy thing so that there wouldn't be any evidence of our relationship. This one was innocent enough.

"Wishing you good luck with your game tonight."

After that stressful talk with Lori, I could have used some kind words, so I excused myself from Charles and walked outside to give Randi a call.

I spoke softly in case anyone came walking up to me. She was in the library working, so she had to whisper herself, which surely made us both appear guilty of some misdeed to anyone witnessing us. Therefore we only spoke briefly, but her voice left me feeling more relaxed and confident. And with Lori looking better, I liked our chances in the game that night.

Our opponent that Friday night was the same prep academy from our conference. That school had won two of the last three state championships in our small-school classification. Yet we had beaten them two out of the three times we'd faced them already this season and knew we could do it again.

Lori played the best she had in several games. She hit jumpers and drove hard to the basket. Carrie continued to play well around the basket and looked a frontrunner to follow Paige as player of the year next season.

When we hit a basket to go up nine at the half, the prep team looked defeated. I knew we had them. We won by 13.

That put us in the regional final the next night against another private team, a Catholic school called Cardinal Perry. The Lady Knights had lost to the prep school in the regional final last year and won the state title two years ago. They would be a tough opponent, but these girls were on a roll.

While waiting for the girls to come out of the showers, I made small talk with Ricky, "I wish we were going to Richie's to celebrate. It'd be good to share this with all the fans."

"Yeah, and Dad loves the crowd," he said. "And hey, I do, too. I've always loved helping out at the diner."

I checked back toward the locker room door, hoping the girls would be coming out.

"That's why I'm gonna major in business."

"Hmm?" I wasn't really paying attention then.

"For college. I'm going to be a business major so I can come back and help run the diner. I know Dad does okay with the place, but maybe I can learn some ways to make it more profitable. Maybe expand the enterprise."

"Oh yeah?" I realized in that moment that I really didn't know much about Ricky, except that he cared deeply for my daughter.

"Yes. And I want you to know that I truly love Paige and she loves me."

Suddenly this conversation had my full attention.

"You're not about to do something stupid like ask for my daughter's hand in marriage, are you?"

"What? Uh, um, no, not that. I mean, maybe someday, but not right this minute or anything."

I might have been glowering a little in that moment as Ricky stammered nervously.

"It's just that I know that Paige has been getting interest from some colleges. A few have even offered her a basketball scholarship. So just to cover my bases, I applied to all the schools that have been recruiting her."

My expression softened a little.

"I make good grades, so I got accepted at all of my choices. Whatever school that Paige decides to choose, I'm going to go there, too. That's one of the good things about being a business major - almost every school offers that."

This all began to feel very familiar. Déjà vu all over again. Beth and I chose the same college and roomed together. Then Beth became pregnant with Paige.

The idea of Ricky knocking up my daughter made me angry, but at the same time I recalled how deeply in love Beth and I were back then and how determined we were to make it work.

Opposite emotions tore at me like I was being drawn and quartered. I didn't speak again until the girls exited the locker room.

After the rush of the big win, I wasn't tired, but I knew the girls needed rest and hydration that night. I wanted to head for the hotel, but the girls were starving and wanted to find a restaurant. We compromised and grabbed grub at a fast-food joint and headed for our rooms.

I watched all the players going into suites before going to my own room to eat my sandwich. 

"I already filled up on junk from the concession stand," said Charles. "If you guys keep winning, I'm gonna swell up like the Michelin tire man." He patted his protruding gut.

"You eat, and I'll make the rounds of the rooms," he said.

"I appreciate it. I'll check on them next."

By the time Charles got back, I had found a college basketball game early in the second half. 

"Just about the whole team was crammed into one room," he said. 

"Which one?"

"The middle one with Lori and Carrie."

When the game started to get out of hand, I figured it was time to tour the rooms myself. I left the remote with Charles and went over to the second of the three rooms we'd gotten for the girls.

Sure enough, the girls were piled on the beds. One of the two sophomores was sitting in the desk chair and the other was sitting in the floor.

"Where is Crystal?" I asked, surveying the room.

"Her mom wanted something, so she's down the hall in Donna's room," said Carrie.

"Autumn and Kim?" 

"I think they are next door," said Lori, pointing her thumb toward the room she was sharing with them.

I walked down the hall and knocked on that door. Kim answered with a big smile on her face.

"Hey, coach. I was just about to join the others next door."

"Where is Autumn? Bathroom?"

"Yes, she'll be out in a sec."

Kim left and the door shut behind her. I wasn't going anywhere until I had spotted Autumn with my own two eyes. My first overnight trip with the team, and I wasn't about to sit back while someone tried to sneak out and meet guys. Kim and Autumn were good kids, but they both were a little boy-crazy, so if there were anybody I wanted to watch closely, it would be those two.

"Autumn?" I called out.

The bathroom door opened, and the senior stepped into the room on bare feet. She was wearing a tight, light blue tank top that dipped low enough to show off the tops of her firm breasts. It was obvious from the nubs sticking out that she wasn't wearing a bra. I would guess those breasts were a C cup, and they looked even bigger on her 5'5 frame. 

She also had nicely shaped hips that were barely covered by the white stretchy short-shorts she was wearing.

I had been doing so much better about not staring at the girls during practice, but Autumn stepping out of the bathroom caught me off-guard, and I was staring.

"Hi," she said softly, which got my eyes to travel up to her face.

"I was just checking in," I said, reflexively speaking back to her in a low voice. "You okay?"

"Mmm hmm," she nodded, taking a couple of small steps toward me.

Since my eyes were now on her face, I noticed how nice she looked. Unlike the wet ponytail she had after the locker room shower, Autumn had styled her hair and applied a bit of makeup.

That set off warning bells in my head, and I tried to figure out why.

"You're awfully dolled up for bedtime," I said. "You're not thinking about sneaking out, are you?"

"Nope," she replied with a smile.

"You better not try something. We have too many chaperones watching the hall."

She took another small step forward. "I'm right where I want to be."

Autumn was trying to act cool, but her face blushed, and suddenly I realized what the warning bells were for. Oh crap. The tight top and no bra. The makeup. Kim leaving with a shit-eating grin on her face so that I'd be here all alone with Autumn. I'd been set up.

She was now close enough to reach out a hand and place it on my chest. I froze as her hand made a soft circle around my shirt.

"You're a really great guy, Coach. Henry," she said as her face grew even redder. But she didn't stop.

"I've caught you staring at me a few times. You try to do the right thing and not look, but sometimes you can't help yourself."

Now it was my turn to blush. 

"At first I was a little embarrassed. A grown man looking at me. But it's a hot, mature, older man who's looking, and I found that I liked it. I wanted you to look, and I hated that you were trying so hard not to. So sometimes I would try to stretch and hold a position knowing you'd have a great view of me. And then I'd peek out of the corner of my eye to see if you noticed."

As she said that, she leaned forward so that I could peer down her tank top and see more flesh.

I needed to stop this before it got out of control. It already felt out of control, but it could always get worse.

"I'm the coach; I'm supposed to keep an eye on you," I muttered.

Autumn raised one eyebrow at that flimsy excuse. "Go right ahead. I don't mind."

She took a step back, and her left hand pulled back from my chest; I'd forgotten it was there. 

"In fact, there was a time a few months ago when I got to see a whole lot of you."

She was referring to the morning after Halloween when she'd walked in on me getting dressed.

"I told you I was sorry. I should have locked the door."

"That's okay," she purred. "But the way I see it, I owe you one. I got to see your naked butt, so ..."

She turned around and reached for the top of her shorts.

I should have stopped right then and there.

When people say, "It just happened - it was an accident," that's such a crock. Things don't just happen. Lots of little things happen, and along the way we choose to cross a line - or choose to let someone else cross a line.

This was one of those lines. I'd never seen any of my players nude before, and I should have reached out and taken hold of her arms and stopped her.

But a big part of me had longed to see her body for months. Those big, firm tits and those curvy hips. That firm ass.

And at that moment, her thumbs hooked into the sides of her shorts and pulled. The material dipped lower, exposing the top of her crack. I could see now that she wasn't wearing any panties.

Out and over those firm cheeks slid the shorts before dropping down to her ankles. Autumn swayed slowly side to side, and my eyes remained latched onto that tight ass. 

I registered movement somewhere up higher than her butt and wrested my eyes away with some difficulty to look up. Autumn was looking back over her shoulder and grinning at my obvious satisfaction.

She stepped out of the panties and continued, "Of course, to be perfectly fair, you were completely naked except for holding something over your crotch. So ..."

With that, she reached down and pulled her tank top over her head. Holding her shirt to her crotch, she turned around to face me as she said, "This makes us even."

Those full breasts stuck straight out toward me. With her hands holding the shirt, her upper arms pressed in on the sides of her tits, making them bulge out further. The nipples were so petite - delicate-looking points with tiny areolas that a nickel might cover. 




Neighborhood Dad Ch. 15



It's crazy what kind of bizarre thoughts can run through one's mind at a time like that. I was thinking, "Shouldn't her nipples be bigger? Her boobs are good-sized, and she has all these curves. She looks all voluptuous, so I kinda thought she'd have big nips."

Yep, that's what I was thinking instead of things like: I need to tell her to get dressed. I need to turn around and walk out of here.

But instead I began to wonder what her pussy lips looked like. Would her clit be tiny, too? Would her hole be just as small and tight? How firmly would it grasp my cock? Why is she holding that damned shirt in the way?

I wanted to see all of her. In that instant, no other thought could exist. I stepped forward to pull her hands away. I might even have tried to kneel down for a better look, but I was saved by a light knock from outside.

"Autumn?" called a voice.

I glanced at Autumn, who was stricken with fear. 

"It's my mom," she whispered. Then she dropped down and snatched her shorts off the floor. She sped for the bathroom and closed the door.

I reached into my pants and pushed my growing erection downward as best I could. I tried to think of what to say, but then that knock came again, and I knew I'd have to wing it.

I walked over and opened the door.

"Oh hi, Henry," Gina said. "I didn't know you were in here. I'm looking for Autumn."

"I was just doing a head count," I said, which was the truth - or at least partly true. "I came looking for her, but she's in the bathroom."

"Are you sure she's here?" she asked, crossing the room and tapping on the door. "Autumn? Are you in there?"

"Be out in a minute, Mom."

"Okay, just checking."

Right then seemed like a good time to escape, so I called out, "Well, I need to get back to the others."

"Don't bother," Gina said, taking a couple of step back toward me. The steps were a little quick, and I had this mental flash of her tackling me to the ground and gouging out these eyes which had just enjoyed the bare flesh of her daughter's body.

"Heather and I just made the rounds ourselves. Everybody is fine."

"Well then I guess I can head back to my room," I started, but she took another step and put a hand on my upper arm.

"Hey, I just want you to know how happy I and the other parents have been about you taking over the team. We knew you'd get the best out of these girls, and look at us now: playing for the regional championship."

"It's been a pleasure," I said, about to turn and head for the door when her grip tightened.

"Wow, somebody must work out. Your arm's like iron."

"Free weights," I replied automatically. "And some cycling."

"It shows." After a pause, she continued, "Basketball season has been crazy, what with all the games and practices and road trips. As much fun as it's been, I look forward to having some free time again after the season ends. Maybe even find time to have coffee with a friend."

The bathroom door opened, and Autumn came out. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail again, and she'd scrubbed the makeup off her face. 

"Oh, there you are," Gina said, then turned back to me. "What do you think?" 

"Uh, yeah, free time would be nice, I guess."

She finally let go of my arm, so I said, "Goodnight, Gina."

I looked over her shoulder and said goodnight to Autumn. With her mother's back turned to her, Autumn gave a mischievous grin. She answered, "Goodnight, Coach," while using her upper arms to squeeze her breasts together again.

Jesus, you don't suppose these two have ever shared a man before? Two sets of mouths kissing my body? Sharing me? No, I just don't think so. Mother/daughter sex is just a little too weird for me.

I nodded my head to them both and made my escape.

It's odd how things work out. For three years after my wife died, I didn't have sex. Now that I was having some of the best sex of my life, there were two other women who wanted me. From dry spell to downpour.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 16



Just to give you guys fair warning, this chapter has nothing sexual in it. I promise that the next chapter will get back to the romance. 

I hurt my hand on vacation last month, and it still isn't better. That's making it hard to churn out the pages I want to write.

As always, I want to thank you for all the votes. Chapter 13 was the highest rated new mature story in June. Chapter 14 was the highest rated new mature story in July. And as of right now, Chap. 15 is sixth in the month of August even though it was all tease and no sex.

I don't expect Chap. 16 to get those same kind of high marks, but it is necessary for the story, and I fully expect to score high for September with Chap. 17.

One last thing: Neighborhood Dad is a terrible title. I just slapped that name on my file the first time I saved the document. I still haven't had any inspiration for a better title. I think "On The Rebound" would fit the romance and basketball angles, but sounds cheesy and trite. 

If you have any ideas, send me a message. Click on my name to go to my author page. Then there is a tab on the far right that says Contact. If I get a suggestion I like, I'll be sure to give that person full credit when I post the next chapter. 

----------

If I hadn't been sharing a room with Charles, I would have rubbed one out before climbing in bed. Instead, I lay there with visions of Autumn's naked body spinning through my head over and over like an old 45 record that gets stuck.

Eventually I fell asleep, and if I had any sexy dreams in the night, I couldn't remember them in the morning.

Before the regional championship, I walked into the locker room to address the team.

Even after a whole season of games, I still didn't feel comfortable giving pregame speeches. My comfort level dropped a few notches lower when I saw Autumn and Kim whispering and giggling over in the left corner of the room. There was no doubt that Autumn had told Kim everything that happened as soon as they were together the night before.

It was very fortunate that Gina knocked when she did. I'd like to think that I would have come to my senses and told Autumn to knock it off. Would I have done the right thing? A year ago I would have said yes without a hesitation, but that was before Randi.

Is it just Randi that I can't resist, or am I turning into some creepy pervert?

Sure, like any red-blooded American male, I check out porn from time to time, but I don't frequent sites that boast Teens and Barely Legal. Unlike when I was in high school and college, I don't mind a few wrinkles around the eyes. I actually find those little lines around the corners of the mouth quite cute. I don't have a fetish about teenaged girls. But when they are right under your nose all the time, the fresh, young, ripe bodies are hard to ignore.

If I had succumbed to temptation and done something I'd regret, that something would have been passed along to Kim. And who knows whom Kim might have told.

Then a worse thought struck me: what if Autumn embellished the story? What if it weren't enough to say that she stripped for me? What if she lied and said I felt her up or sucked her breast or had full-on intercourse? 

What would happen then? Well, I could go to jail. It wouldn't matter that Autumn is 18. It wouldn't matter if Kim knew that Autumn initiated it. Autumn was still in high school and protected by the law. 

That's all I could think about as I tried to give some motivation to the players. I have no idea what it was I said to those girls, but by the end it looked like they had zoned out and weren't listening anyway.

Out on the floor, I watched my team for a minute, but everyone seemed to have their heads in the game, so I turned my eyes to the other end. It was easy to find the opponent's best player.

The center was as tall as Carrie, but had nimble feet. She caught passes and went through the layup drills smoothly and effortlessly. She could be a problem.

"That's Anna Doyle," Heather said, knowing exactly whom I was watching. "Player of the year in her conference, still weighing college offers. Her mom is Cherokee Indian."

"Cherokee Indian?" I asked. "I mean, she looks the part with her long black hair and tan skin, but she's going to a Catholic school?"

"I dunno. Her name is Doyle. Maybe her dad is Irish Catholic."

"More likely they've been recruiting again. Public schools have to pick from whatever students they've got on hand, and these private schools can go out and look for help."

Heather patted me on the shoulder. "You can take that up with the athletic association after the season, but right now we've got a game to play."

"Sorry, I'll climb down off my soapbox."

As the girls finished their warm-up drills, I called them together.

"Okay, remember what I said. We're gonna have Carrie doing a three-quarters front on their center, Doyle. If she starts to dribble, the weakside defender has to come over and help. This girl Doyle is good. Stay on her."

Once the game began, it was obvious that Doyle was too fast for Carrie. While they were equal in height, Doyle was getting the shots she wanted too often and was doing it quick enough the other defenders couldn't get there to help.

By the end of the first quarter, Carrie had two fouls and was sitting next to Heather, who was giving her a pep talk. I put Crystal in the game for her scrappy defense, and she and Tessa rewarded me with a couple of steals that kept us in the game.

Carrie didn't play much in the second quarter before getting her third foul, and we were down eight points at the break.

As the girls went into the locker room, Heather and I stopped outside the door to confer.

"Carrie couldn't hang with Doyle," Heather stated the obvious.

"Not when they were both fresh anyway," I added. "What if we start the third with Carrie sitting and play full-court pressure? Doyle has to run the floor, chasing Paige, and gets winded. Then we bring in Carrie who is all rested."

"I like that plan. Start Crystal in the third?"

I nodded my head, then we entered the locker room.

The basketball side would work itself out. I needed to reach the girls' minds and hearts.

"I had a fellow tell me that he could never be a girls' coach," I began. "There's too much drama between teenaged girls. Cat fights and back-stabbing."

I paced back and forth in front of the benches where the girls sat.

"Maybe that's true on most teams, but I guess I won the lottery 'cause this group of girls is nothing short of a miracle. Remember that first week of practice when you guys were grumbling and rolling your eyes at all the drills I made you do? I'll bet one or two of you were even thinking about quitting.

"I asked you all to have some faith. To believe that I was looking out for your best interests and wanted nothing more than to see you all grow and develop. You ladies did that. You put faith in me and started putting in the effort. And that effort has really paid off. You've come so far so fast. 

"Ones who were shy have come out of their shell," I said, looking at Carrie. "Ones who were afraid to shoot have developed into serious threats," I said toward Lori. "And some have become natural leaders," I said, looking between Tessa and Paige. 

"But most of all I see a group of girls who aren't just teammates -- they are good friends. Look at how you all crammed together in that hotel room last night. Or how we share meals at Richie's. There is a bond there that can't be broken.

"We can win this game. But win or lose, no one can take away your friendship and love for each other."

I paused as the girls smiled warmly and turned to one another.

"Now, Coach has a few things to address before we get back out there." 

I stepped aside and let Heather nail down some areas where we needed to improve.

I stood near the baseline as the girls jogged back out on the court to warm up. Carrie stopped in front of me.

"I'm sorry, Coach. I can do better -- you don't have to bench me."

"And you will do better. I've got big plans for you once we get three minutes in."

That brought a smile, and she joined her teammates.

I hoped that our pressing defense would overwhelm our opponent, but the other coach must have spent halftime talking about ways to beat our press.

We gave up a couple of easy baskets and were down 10 when I sent Carrie to the scorer's table.

"We are going to feed the ball into you a couple of times, Carrie, and I want you to go straight at Doyle. Attack her."

On Carrie's first catch, the center made a quick spin and went up for a shot. Doyle reacted slowly and reached out and grabbed Carrie's wrist, drawing a whistle.

The next time down, Doyle was ready and gave Carrie some space before going up and blocking the shot.

The third trip down, Doyle was all over Carrie and never even let her catch a pass.

"Damn, that Doyle is good. She's already adjusted," I said to Heather. "We'll have to try something else."

Paige must have had the same idea as she saw Carrie stuck behind the Cherokee center. Paige flashed out to the wing, caught a pass and pump-faked her defender off her feet. She sped to the basket for a layup before Doyle could free herself from Carrie to challenge.

"That'll work," said Heather.

For the rest of the quarter, Doyle touched the ball on almost every possession. She either went strong to the basket or found an open teammate for a shot. We could have easily been down 15 going into the fourth quarter.

Except, Paige was on a mission. She was demanding the ball every time she popped open. She took jump shots, drove inside for layups or passed off to teammates for open tries.

Playing in this big game in this crucial time had really sparked Paige's competitive drive, and the entire team was feeding off it.

We cut the lead to seven by the end of the third.

The entire fourth quarter was a two-woman show. It was like that NBA game on ESPN Classic where Larry Bird and Dominique Wilkins went back and forth every trip down the floor.

Doyle made something happen on her end, then Paige would answer.

And with Carrie much fresher after resting much of the first two and a half quarters, Doyle started to look winded finally.

We cut the lead to two, but Doyle found a guard outside for a three-pointer to make it a five-point game. Paige found Lori cutting to the basket for a hoop and a foul that cut the lead back to two.

When the clock dipped under a minute left, Paige made a nifty up-and-under move to score inside to cut the margin to one point. Fans on both sides were screaming at the top of their lungs.

I told the girls not to foul yet, but play tight defense. As the clock reached 30 seconds, Doyle made a quick move to the basket and drew a foul on Carrie.

I sent Kim to the scorer's table and told her we might need a three-pointer from her, and she smiled and said, "Okay, Coach." Like it would be the simplest thing in the world.

Doyle's chest was heaving as she went to the foul line. She'd put together a monster game to this point, so I fully expected her to hit both foul shots and make it a three-point lead.

To my surprise, Doyle left the first one short, bouncing off the front of the rim. The legs must be going, I though.

She overcorrected and shot the second one too hard. It hit the back of the rim, bounced off the backboard and dropped into Paige's hands.

Paige passed to Tessa who calmly brought the ball up the floor.

I called out a play, and Tessa relayed it to the team.

We tried to catch them staring at Paige and ran Lori on a backdoor cut, but Doyle dropped back to cut off the passing angle. 

Instead, Paige curled around Autumn's pick and caught a pass on the wing. She immediately attacked the paint and left her defender in the dust. As the clock was winding down, Paige rose up and found Doyle waiting for her. Stretching her right arm out wide, Paige reached around the center to finger-roll the ball off the backboard. 

Paige and Doyle banged hips, and Paige was knocked off-balance, but still got the ball up. 

The officials didn't call the foul, and the ball trickled off the rim. 

Lori rushed forward, leaped into the air and caught the rebound. She went back up to shoot, and the buzzer sounded as she was getting the ball away.

Lori's shot went into the net, but the head referee waved it off.

We had lost by one point.

I screamed at the ref, "Where's the foul call? You can't swallow your whistle because you're afraid to make a call!"

Heather stepped in front of me to keep me from storming over to the refs. 

Then I saw the dejection on each one of my girls, and the anger dissipated. They were heart-broken, and no amount of yelling was going to change that.

I saw Doyle go up and give my daughter a hug.

"You played great," said the Cherokee center.

"Thanks, you too," Paige answered, wiping tears from her cheeks.

After a minute, Heather shepherded the girls into the locker room, and I intended to follow, but was surrounded by people.

"It was a great run, Henry," said Charles.

"You guys were great out there," said Donna.

Several other parents swallowed their own disappointment long enough to congratulate me on my coaching job.

Then I recognized the sportswriter from our hometown newspaper and gave him a couple of quotes.

A woman I didn't recognize stepped up and reached out a hand.

"Coach Donaldson? Hi, I'm Amanda Fuller, an assistant coach at UNC-Asheville."

"Oh, hi. Nice to meet you."

"That was some game tonight. I was here scouting Doyle, but your power forward was really impressive." She glanced down at a program in her hand. "Paige?"

"That's right. Paige is my daughter."

"Has she signed anywhere yet?"

The phony, pleasant smile on my face turned authentic as I realized the implications of that statement. Most of the schools to show an interest in Paige were Division III schools that can't even offer an athletic scholarship. Only a couple of Division II schools had taken the time to scout her, and neither had made an offer yet, but here was a Division I coach taking notice.

"She's been weighing her offers, but I don't think she's narrowed it down just yet."

Amanda talked about getting Paige and me up to Asheville to tour the campus and meet the head coach.

We spoke for a few minutes more, and I accepted a business card before joining the team -- with a much brighter outlook than just a couple of minutes before.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 17



It has been four months since I posted. I had a thumb injury, and I got out of the habit of writing.

And I admit I have been discouraged by the drop in readership.

I don't get paid a single penny for these chapters, so readership, comments and votes are all that keep me motivated.

More than 100K people clicked on Chap. 1. There were still 52K people interested right up until Henry and Randi had sex the first time. Since then readership has plunged.

Only 17,000 people clicked on Chap. 16. That's a drop of two-thirds since Chap. 6.

That says to me that fewer and fewer people care if I continue or not.

So maybe this is my last entry, maybe not. 

*

As you can expect, the locker room was filled with sadness, but I reminded them that they had reached the equivalent of the Final Four in their division. That's the best finish the school had made since the 1960s. 

Afterward, I pulled Paige aside and told her about Asheville. It did my heart good to see her perk up.

"When can we go visit?" she asked.

"The sooner the better, I think. If they are interested in you, let's give them a look before they up and sign somebody else."

"Oh, I hadn't thought of that."

"Beside, in about two weeks, my calendar gets crammed full of furniture work for a whole month. Then there's the prom, and we don't want to wait two months to get up there."

"I gotta go find Ricky," she said and started to leave the locker room.

"Whoa. How about you get cleaned up and changed first? He can wait 15 minutes."

"Okay, but don't you tell him about Asheville. I wanna do it."

By Monday, Paige called the coach and set up a time to visit on the following Saturday.

Since Asheville was three hours from our home, we decided to drive up Saturday morning, but stay overnight so we wouldn't have to make the long drive back on the same day. 

Besides, seeing the campus was only part of the trip. We both wondered what the city itself was like, and hanging around seemed like a good idea.

"Why don't we make it a road trip and invite a couple more people?" suggested Ricky. "We could ask Lori and Tessa and Randi if they'd like to go, too."

"I have a four-door car," I started. "What, are half of them going to sit in someone else's lap?"

As soon as I said that, I had an image of Randi sitting demurely in my lap wearing a skirt while unbeknown to the others she was squeezing my hard-on lodged deeply inside her.

"No, we could borrow my dad's Expedition. It'll hold plenty," he said.

"That sounds like fun, Dad. Can we?" asked Paige.

"Hmm," I said, thinking fast. "We could do like we did Friday night and squeeze you girls in a double-bed room. Ricky would room with me. So we'd have to cap it at five or six people so we wouldn't overcrowd the SUV or the rooms."

"Thanks, Dad. I'll make some calls."

A little while later, Paige bounded down the stairs.

"Okay, we've got two more."

I looked up from ESPN.

"Carrie said she'd love to go. She wants a chance to meet the coaches and maybe get on their radar a little. She didn't have her best game Saturday, and she'd like to get them to come watch her play again next year."

"That's good thinking. With her size and another year of training and experience, she might surprise people."

"And Randi said she'd love to go. She said she's heard good things about Asheville, but has never been."

I liked the sound of that. Maybe while the other three were busy with touring the campus, Randi and I could sneak away for a lunch date.

While Paige and Ricky sat at the kitchen table doing homework, I thought about Randi. 

We should have a date. In fact, we should do more together than just hide out in this house. No, of course we couldn't just drive over to the local steakhouse and have dinner. If people found out I was dating a teenager, I'd lose my coaching job for sure, and a lot of my friends around town would disown me.

But we could always take a short trip out of town.

Randi and I had been sleeping together -- when time allowed -- for more than three months, and I felt an urge to take things further. Was I thinking about marriage and having kids all over again? No, nothing that far along. But the idea of being with her every day was appealing -- even if it were nothing more than reading the morning paper.

I picked up my cell phone and sent her a text.

"What nights r u free this week?"

"Wed n Sat"

"Come here Wed after class"

"OK. Miss you"

"Miss you too"

On Tuesday, I had an idea and flipped through my phone list until I found the right name. I put in a call and spoke to the secretary of one of my business contacts. She said she would handle the arrangements. 

The next day, Randi arrived at the house around 3:30 p.m. I greeted her with an embrace and kiss that lasted half a minute. When I finally let her up for air, she beamed.

"Boy, you really did miss me."

"It's nearly been a week. That's far too long without seeing those gorgeous green eyes."

"So what did you want to see me about, mister?" she asked, pressing her breasts firmly against me. 

"Dinner and a movie."

She pulled back and stared intently into my eyes.

"Seriously?"

"Completely. I've made dinner reservations for 6, and then there's a movie playing nearby at 7:25 I think you'd like."

"You and me? Just waltzing down the sidewalk in front of all your friends, and possibly friends of my parents?"

"Not here, exactly. How about Burlington? Far enough away to be safe."

She thought it over a few seconds.

"I'm not sure how far that is from here. Do we need to leave soon for the restaurant?"

"Nope, plenty of time."

"And Paige?"

"Now that the rigors of basketball season are over, she said she wanted a new hairdo. She has an appointment at 4."

"So ..."

With that, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to my bedroom. We had six days of catching up to do.

After a wonderful half an hour (and some needed snuggling), we arose and cleaned up for our night out.

No sooner had I pulled out of the driveway when a twinge of panic curled around my guts and squeezed. 

We were on a date. We weren't just making small talk around the kitchen counter or talking music while practicing guitar. We were going to be sitting in a restaurant surrounded by strangers and be expected to talk.

What if I couldn't think of a single thing to say? What if we sit there in one of those unbearable silences until she's asking me just to take back to her car?

Or what if I do talk, but everything I say comes out sounding like an out-of-touch middle-aged man? She could be completely turned off and never want to see me again.

Yep, it was a good thing that she couldn't hear what I was thinking because there's no doubt my many insecurities would have had her running for the hills.

Thankfully Randi interrupted my hysteria. 

"Oh, I almost forgot. I made a playlist of songs that I'd like to try to play," she said. "Does your radio have Bluetooth?"

"No, but there is a cord in the dash you can plug into the front panel."

She retrieved the cord from the glove box, and we chatted about music as we rode to Burlington.

The jitters faded, and I was back to remembering what drew me to her in the first place.

It wasn't just the beautiful features or those magical eyes or the smoking hot body that caused me to become infatuated. No, Paige had friends who were pretty and sexy, but Randi just had a way of drawing me out, getting me to talk. How could I have ever worried about dinner?

The Italian restaurant looked rather boxy from the outside, but I'd heard good things from folks at the furniture market. 

Sure enough, the food was excellent, and a man who introduced himself as the owner stopped by each of the tables and made us feel welcomed. I waited to see if he tried to sneak a few peeks up and down of Randi, but he was very professional.

During the meal I asked her a few questions about some of the places she'd lived. Her father traveled a lot with his job and didn't see much of his wife and daughter. As he had progressed up a couple of promotions, her father uprooted the family twice, leaving her in a new town for her senior year. Soon I had her telling little anecdotes.

"So there we are on this family vacation at a state park," she recounted. "I was maybe four years old and in love with every living creature on the planet. I'd never met a dog I didn't hug and squeeze.

"I see this dog off in the distance on a leash, and of course I want to run over and play with it. But my dad must have seen something he didn't like about the dog.

"He says, 'Stay with us and don't go near that dog.' Then Mom asked him something, and I took off running over to the animal. It was some breed of terrier and skittish, but I was four and didn't know how to spot a scared dog.

"I reached out to pet it, and the dog bit me on the outside edge of my hand. Well that just flew all over me, and I kicked out and caught him right in the ribs.

"Then I felt two hands snatch me up into the air and carry me away from there.

"When we were a good ways off, Dad dropped me to my feet in one of those half-scared/half-angry states."

I nodded my head. Every dad knows that feeling. Is she okay? Good, 'cause now I'm gonna kill her.

On the next part, she dropped the volume of her voice drastically as she quoted her father exactly.

"'Didn't I tell you to stay away from that goddamned dog?' And I answered right back, 'Well the goddamned dog bit me!'"

I could just imagine that stubborn 4-year-old version of Randi sticking her lower lip out, propping her hands on her hips and giving as good as she got to her old man. I laughed until tears came to my eyes.

The waitress stopped by to check on us and remarked, "I wish I was having as good a time as you guys. Y'all need anything?"

I could only shake my head as I tried to regain my breath.

"So what did your dad say about you dropping a big cuss word?"

"At first I wasn't sure what was going on. His face was all contorting like he was in pain, then he left out this snigger and looked over at Mom. Then they both cut loose laughing."

"That's the kind of thing my dad used to do all the time," I said. "Not with me, of course, but with Paige. He was a strict man who had all these rules to live by and could be so critical, but he just thought the sun rose and set by Paige. 

"He worked a full-time job and a part-time job. He would work four or five hours in the morning, eat lunch and then sleep until the evening when he would get up to head off the factory for third shift. And if I woke him up when I got in from school, he could be a bear.

"But when Paige was a toddler, she would run through the house looking for her Papa. Then she'd pat him on the face or tug on his ear until he woke up. And all he'd do is smile really big and say, 'Hey, sweetheart.'"

"When did he pass away?"

"Back when Paige was in middle school. Heart attack, died almost instantly."

"What about your mom? You don't talk about her much."

I took a breath and let it out slowly.

"She fell."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't know. How did it happen, was she hiking or mountain climbing?"

I chuckled at the image of my mom in an apron with curlers in her hair rappelling down a cliff.

"No, nothing like that. It was the driveway."

Randi looked confused, like so many people had over the years. It was a story I'd told a time or two in my life.

"She was walking out to get the mail, and there was ice on the driveway. She slipped and fell backward. She hit her head on the ground, but claimed she never lost consciousness. I don't know if that's true or if she was out for a few minutes and didn't know any better.

"She got the mail, went back inside and didn't say a word to anyone. I was in high school, and Dad was asleep. After school I had basketball practice and then I hung out at a friend's house until it was about time for Dad to get up and shower.

"When I got there, Dad was asking Mom questions, but she wasn't making any sense. I spoke to her, but when she turned her head my way, even I could tell she wasn't right. She tried to walk, but she staggered. Dad caught her arm and when I looked at it, her hand was twitching. That hand all twitchy was what stuck with me for a long time afterward.

"We helped her to the car and put her in the backseat so that I could ride alongside her while he drove."

"That's awful," said Randi. "I'm sorry I asked you to relive something like that. You don't have to say anymore."

"There isn't much left to say. When we got her to the hospital, Mom passed out and died a couple of hours later.

"The doctor said the fall must have caused a little bit of bleeding on the brain. Over a few hours, the blood pooled up and put pressure on the brain until brain cells started to die off."

Randi winced, and I felt bad for oversharing. I tried to think of how to change the subject, but she asked another question.

"Did that bring you and your dad closer together or push you apart?"

"That's a really good question. Hmm, I would say both. At first I had all this anger about Mom dying, and I blurted out one day that it was all his fault. If he hadn't gotten so upset in the past about being awakened earlier than usual, then she might have gone to him and asked for help before she got so bad off.

"I regretted saying it almost as soon as it came out because he looked like someone had punched him right in the gut. That's when I realized he was blaming himself for that very reason.

"A couple of days later, I told him I was sorry. Even if he'd been sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, she still might not have said a word. She didn't like going to the doctor and would have waited hours, if not days, before giving in and talking to a physician.

"He nodded his head like he agreed, but I know he felt guilty until the day he died."

Randi slid out of her chair, stepped closer and leaned down to kiss me on the cheek. She put her arms around my shoulders and hugged me with her face pressed against mine.

I felt a little self-conscious being hugged openly in a restaurant, but Randi wasn't fazed. 

A tear was squished between our faces, and I wasn't sure if it had fallen from my eyes or hers.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered into my ear. "I am so stupid. Here we were having a great dinner, and I ruined it by bringing up all this sensitive stuff."

"Hey, no," I started. Pushing her away enough to make eye contact, I said, "This has been wonderful date so far, and I want to keep having a great time. This was something you needed to know at some point. It doesn't mean the night is ruined. And it doesn't mean I'm going to forget you cussing your dad when you were four."

She gave a snort, then began to sniffle.

"I'm going to go freshen up."

Talking about my mom used to be hard, but over the past two decades I'd told lots of people about the accident -- maybe not in such detail though. I still missed my mom, and some days it hurt worse than others, but on this night I think Randi was more upset than I was. Of course, this was all new to her.

The Henry that the rest of the world tended to see was a man who tried to keep things light, friendly, a little playful. Sharing something personal about myself wasn't a regular event. I tended to deflect personal questions with humor, but opening up to Randi felt nice. I could trust her to keep my feelings between us.

It made me want to know more about her, too. So when she sat down, I asked a question that had occurred to me earlier, but I hadn't wanted to ask it and be all serious.

"Since I shared, here is one for you. Your dad traveled a lot, and it was just you and your mom a lot of the time. What was that like for you?"

Whereas I might have cracked a joke, Randi sat there and considered the question. I sat patiently and let her gather her thoughts.

"There were times when I was upset with my father for leaving us alone," she said. "Things were tough without a man around. Like any kid, I was perfectly okay with letting a grownup solve my problems.

"But when your mom is working or trying to keep the house up, you adapt. There was no one there to put my chain back on my bike when it slipped off. So I had to figure out how to do it by myself. There was no one to lug in groceries or pick up some heavy thing that needed moving, so I got stronger.

"When the sink was clogged, and we took the pipe loose, there was some disgusting crud in that pipe that made me gag, but you suck it up.

"I guess that's one of the reasons I don't like people telling me what I can't do. I used to think I couldn't do anything myself, but I got smarter and stronger, and now I know I can handle things."

I smiled, feeling this powerful sense of pride at what an incredible young woman Randi had become.

"Now it's your turn," she said, but with a grin playing at the edges of her mouth. "You heard my story of cursing at age four. But I never hear you use bad language. Is that you just being on your best behavior, or do you never cuss at all?"

"Wait 'til I hit my thumb with a hammer -- you'll hear plenty."

I realized I was doing it again, avoiding answers with humor.

"I used to cuss a fair bit, but I tried to break myself of that when Paige was born. And then when she started school and began bringing friends over all the time, I was even more careful not to let loose with a bad word in front of them.

"Besides, movies and music and a lot of the teens I see on the street just cuss all the time. People have terrible vocabularies these days. They don't know how to express themselves and their feelings without resorting to garbage."

I realized I was starting to get preachy, but I couldn't resist continuing.

"My first editor was a riot. He taught me everything I know about journalism. The man only ever used one curse word in the office. Just one. He would get riled up about something, and he would turn to his go-to word."

I sat up straighter in my chair and put on my best impersonation, complete with banging my fist for emphasis.

"I hate these daaammmmned computers," I spat, bouncing the silverware with my blows to the table.

Randi laughed as some other patrons turned to see what all the commotion was about.

"He sounds like a hoot."

"Oh, he was. Full of good advice. One day he was giving me some tips on starting my articles. The first paragraph is called a lede. He said to me, 'A good lede is like a woman's skirt. It should be long enough to cover the essentials, but short enough to keep me interested.'"

"Is that right?" she asked with a laugh.

"Oh yeah. Another time, he was explaining some of the stuff people mess up like imply and infer or lay and lie. 'Now, lay means to put something down. Lie is to put yourself down. Remember, young man, you can lay whomever you want, but you're gonna have to lie to do it.'"

"And I'll bet you never messed that up again."

"No way."

With dinner finished, we stepped out of the restaurant, and Randi laced her fingers through mine. We shared a smile as we crossed the parking lot.

I opened her door and she stepped forward like she was about to sit down, but she turned first.

She looked like she was going to say something, but just shook her head and smiled again. Then she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to mine for a few seconds. I was starting to get into the kiss when she pulled away and sat down.

I had this idea that the movie would be the easy part of the night because you don't have to speak. Well it did turn out to be an easy, comfortable segment of the date, but it wasn't that quiet.

The movie was mostly full, but we still found a spot where we'd have an empty seat on each side of us. Then we spent much of the movie whispering back and forth.




Neighborhood Dad Ch. 17



"Come on, I know teenagers are horny, but do grown men really check out every woman that walks by?" she asked.

"Not the ugly ones," I joked, "but yeah, all the hot ones."

"What kind of pleasure can you get from two seconds as you pass someone on the sidewalk?"

"Enough to get you through a boring business meeting. Hey, a guy needs to daydream."

She playfully nudged me with her elbow, but soon her head was leaning against my shoulder. We still chatted, but the whispers felt more intimate like that.

I thought about all the movies I'd seen in my lifetime that she had not. Some people might think of that as a generational gap that could hurt the relationship. All I could think is that I would love to introduce those films to her, experience them anew through her eyes and heart.

Soon the movie was over, and we discussed it for several minutes on the ride home. Then a comfortable silence fell over the car as I held her left hand softly.

I would have loved taking her to my bed and holding her close -- until our passions got the better of us and we made love.

But back at my house, the real world got in the way again. My daughter's car was back in the driveway, and it was time to go our separate ways.

Randi's hug and kiss told me she felt the same way, but still we waved as she backed out into the street and headed off.



Neighborhood Dad Ch. 18



Someone suggested that I should change categories if I were changing subject matter, but I think doing that with Chapter 17 might have caused some readers to miss it. People got used to seeing the series in Mature, so I'm going back to that setting now.

*****

A few days later, five of us piled into Richard's SUV and headed off for the Blue Ridge Mountains.

Ricky volunteered to drive, but I was the adult and felt I should be in charge. Ricky sat across from me for the first segment so that the girls could gossip in the back seat.

After a bathroom break, Randi said she would ride up front with me so that Ricky could sit beside Paige.

The rest of the trip seemed to take no time at all. 

With GPS on my phone, we found the school with no problem and worked our way around to the basketball stadium.

The assistant coach, Amanda, must have been watching from a window as she stepped outside to welcome us to UNC-Asheville. 

"Hello again, Miss Fuller," I said, extending a hand.

"Hi, Mr. Donaldson," she said with a broad smile. "And this is Paige."

The assistant shook hands with Paige, who introduced Ricky and Carrie.

"You might remember Carrie from our basketball team. She was the starting center," Paige said.

"Of course," said Amanda.

"You don't have to say that to be nice," Carrie said shyly. "You couldn't remember me. I picked up a couple of fouls and sat on the bench half the game."

"Yes, but you had some good plays in the third quarter and seemed to wear down Miss Doyle," said Amanda. "Speaking of, that might be her now."

We all turned to see another car pulling into the parking lot.

Miss Doyle was tall, but graceful as she stepped out of the passenger seat of the car. An even taller person exited the driver's side. While they had some similarities, the young woman had a darker complexion and hair than the man who could only be her father.

"Anna! Oh my god, I can't believe it," exclaimed Paige. "What are you doing here?"

"Following you, I guess," said Anna, as the two girls shared a quick hug.

"I was on the phone with Miss Fuller a few days ago, and she said she had just gotten off the phone with you about making a visit. I thought I'd check out the school and maybe get to know a potential teammate, too."

Amanda gave the girls a quick sketch of what they would see inside, then a young woman in sweats came outside to join us.

"Hey, everybody, this is Kara. She plays point guard on the team," said Amanda. "She and I will show you around the facilities here, then she'll show you the rest of the campus."

Hearing all the plans the group had for the day, it was obvious I would have plenty of free time to burn, which was exactly what I was hoping would happen.

I explained to Amanda that Randi and I would be checking out the city and would come back later.

"Give me a call or text and let me know when you are wrapping things up," I reminded Paige.

And soon I was driving Randi toward her surprise.

"So, what's first on the agenda?" Randi asked pleasantly.

"You'll see," I replied, following the new directions on GPS.

Soon we turned off the main road and a sign gave away the secret.

"Are you serious?" Randi said, turning away from the window to beam at me. "This is where we are going?"

"Yep."

We slowly made our way up the private drive toward the beautiful Biltmore Estate.

"Oh god, I heard about this, but we lived a long way off then and I never thought I'd get to see it."

The massive mansion was close to the city, but felt like it was in another kingdom, seated on 8,000 acres of land. 

George Vanderbilt was only 27 years old when ground first broke on the estate in 1889. The grandson of industrialist Cornelius Vanderbilt, George fell in love with the area when he visited with his mother the year before.

The grounds were so massive that a temporary railroad had to be established to bring raw materials out to the build site. Six years later, the Vanderbilts opened the home.

We drew closer to the front gates, but couldn't yet see the 250-room French Renaissance chateau.

The house itself covers four acres and has 35 bedrooms, 43 bathrooms and 65 fireplaces to provide heat throughout the structure.

I parked the SUV and took Randi's hand as we started toward the ticket counters. Long lines of people waited to purchase admission, but I swung around them all and headed for another window instead.

"Hi, I'm Henry Donaldson. I called on Tuesday." I slid my driver's license forward so the young woman could see.

As the woman was looking, I snuck a peek at Randi, who was looking at me as if it was taking all her strength to keep her mouth from hanging agape.

"Ah, here we are," the woman said, pulling out a manila envelop. She opened it and checked inside, then her demeanor shifted. She stood a little straighter and took on a more professional tone.

"Mr. Cecil's assistant has taken care of all arrangements. Here are your tickets for admission, a voucher for the café and a note from Mr. Cecil himself."

I accepted the note, which said, "Henry, so glad you have finally accepted my invitation. I hope you have a wonderful time. Sorry I will be away this weekend or I'd welcome you in person. Bill."

The young woman, whose nametag said Shannon, slid over the tickets, a voucher good for $50 at the Stable Café and two sets of headphones. 

"What are the headphones for?" I asked. 

"You can take a guided tour from one of our staff members, or you can walk at your own pace through the house."

Shannon picked up a small box attached to the headphones.

"This is like an mp3 player. When you enter a new room, hit play and it will give you details on that particular room."

"That is so cool," said Randi, finally regaining her voice.

"Yes, and you can repeat it if you miss anything or take a break and have a seat if your feet get too tired. That's the best part about the headphones - you're not on any tour guide's schedule.

"Oh, and if you're not too tired, don't forget the greenhouse. It's still too early in the year for the garden to be in bloom, but a lot of plants are already growing inside just waiting for the chance to be moved outside."

We thanked Shannon and headed through the gates. A long approach led to the house, but even from the long distance the manor was still massive.

Once we were away from others, Randi asked, "What the hell was all that? And who is Mr. Cecil?"

"Bill is one of the Vanderbilt heirs. He is the president of the group that manages the estate."

"And you know him?"

"Well, not like a friend or something. A couple of years ago, I was invited to take a behind-the-scenes tour of the house. The Biltmore group was looking to bring out a new furniture collection based off designs found here. Some of the pieces aren't even on display to the public."

"Not on display?"

"Yeah," I continued. "I heard that Elvis had three completely different sets of furniture for every room in Graceland, and that the furniture would be rotated from time to time. It's sort of the same thing here. The Vanderbilts had some pieces made, but they also collected antiques over the decades and stored them in rooms that the general public never sees."

"But you did get to see them?"

"I did. Spent a whole day up here and then took a private jet back to Greensboro. That's when Bill said that if I ever came back for a visit, he'd take care of the arrangements. So I called his office on Tuesday, and his assistant said she'd handle everything."

We entered the house and when a tour guide said it was time to start our audio players, Randi and I did a 1-2-3 so we hit the play button at the same instant. 

We learned that the original estate was the size of a city. Not only is the house on 8,000 acres now, but after George passed away in 1914, his widow sold off 87,000 acres more to the U.S. Forest Service.

Randi and I visited the main areas, the guest rooms, servant quarters and kitchens. We saw an indoor pool and an indoor bowling alley. We learned many interesting facts and tidbits, all the while enjoying each other's company.

The 90-minute tour took us two hours as we frequently stopped to spend more time in a room.

Then we enjoyed resting our feet with lunch in the Stable Café, named so because the seats were placed in the renovated 19th-century horse stables. We enjoyed salads and rotisserie chicken before heading to the greenhouse.

We hadn't even considered a trip to the winery before my phone buzzed. Paige sent me a text that the group was finishing up lunch at an on-campus spot and would be ready for pickup soon.

As we were walking to the SUV, Randi pulled me to a stop and reached up to turn my head toward her. 

"I want to say that this day has been fantastic. The house, the flowers, the whole estate. The great company. Thank you for this."

I leaned down for a kiss. "You are most welcomed."

"I kinda feel like I'm with a celebrity, getting treated fancy and all," she said playfully.

"Enjoy it while it lasts. Usually I get a free pen or notepad from a company. Not rotisserie chicken."

I kissed her again, then we turned and swayed hip-to-hip out to the vehicle.

She was right. This was fantastic.

I wasn't sure if I could wipe the smile off my face by the time we picked up the rest of our group, but that didn't seem necessary since those three were already beaming, too.

"Well?" I asked as I stepped out of the car.

"Oh it was great!" exclaimed Paige. "You should see their locker rooms. Wow."

"And you could pack our entire school in the student section alone," said Ricky. "That place is enormous."

"We got to meet the team and run some drills together," said Carrie.

All the voices were hitting me at once, but Carrie's statement hit me hardest.

"Wait, run drills? I thought you were here to be wooed," I said, looking between Carrie and Paige.

"The team was just finishing a practice, and the coach wanted to see how we fit in with their players," Paige said. "I think we did pretty well."

I heard all about the current players, the coaching staff, the facilities and the campus as we headed toward our hotel.

After several minutes, I could sense that Paige and Carrie were already sold on the school.

"What about Doyle?" I asked, jumping into a tight window between rapid-fire comments.

"She joined in on the drills, too," said Paige.

"No, I mean, what about the school? Did she seem impressed?"

"I think we were all pretty impressed," said Ricky. 

"But she's probably already visited a few schools, so she's probably more used to it by now," added Carrie.

We arrived at the hotel, and I pulled up to the entrance.

"You guys stay put until I find out where our rooms are," I suggested.

As I was getting out, I heard Paige speak to Randi.

"Okay, so we've told you everything about the university. What did you find out about the city?"

I wanted to hear how Randi described our day, but maybe it was best I wasn't there. What if we were sharing knowing glances and then suddenly one of them could tell that we'd been on a date instead of just cruising around town.

Everything went smoothly on check-in. We had two side-by-side rooms with double beds and an adjoining door.

By the time we lugged our overnight bags to the rooms, I could feel an ache in my feet and legs from all the walking that day. Even though I'd been working out lately, that day was pretty tough on these 38-year-old joints.

I grabbed some pillows and tossed them up against the headboard of the first bed in my room.

Ricky dropped his bag on the other bed and unlocked our side of the adjoining door.

Paige unlocked her side, and the three girls poured into the room.

"You're looking pretty beat there, Daddy," my daughter said with a smile. 

"There are 8,000 acres on that estate, and my arches can feel every step of them. I think I'll need a little recuperation."

"We can rest here for a little while and then go out and see the sights," she offered.

"You young folks can check out the city, and I'll just hit the fast food place next door," I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a $20 bill. I handed it to Paige. "That ought to cover your food."

"We can't just leave you here. Don't you want to come with us?" she asked.

"I've got the furniture market coming up soon," I said, mostly telling the truth. "I shouldn't overexert myself and strain something right before my big week."

It sounded like a very plausible excuse, and by mentioning work I felt sure that Paige wouldn't hound me any further.

But the simple truth was that I'd had a great day with Randi, and I didn't want to go back to faking things just yet. I didn't want to be out having dinner or seeing a play or visiting an art museum while pretending that Randi was just another friend of my daughter. I knew that I'd have to return to that lifestyle soon, but I wanted to carry this wonderful feeling inside me a little longer.

"You sure?" asked Ricky. "If you want something better to eat, we could bring you some grub back."

"Your dad's right," Randi said to Paige. "We really did walk for miles all over that mansion. I am feeling really beat, too. I think I'll stay."

I knew what Randi was thinking, and everything from the neck down thought that sounded like a great idea. But my brain had to interrupt.

"That's silly," I said. "You don't have to stay here to keep the old guy company. I do just fine on my own every day. Besides, you're young; you can recover quickly. And I know all of you are curious about the city. Go, have fun - but, you know, not too much fun."

"I'm not doing it out of pity," Randi said to me. Then when the others were looking my way, she opened her eyes wide like she were asking, "What are you doing?"

"Maybe we should all stay in and just order some pizza," suggested Carrie. As the shy one in the bunch, Carrie was probably terrified she'd get taken some place where she'd have to converse with strangers.

"Nonsense," I said. "Jump in the SUV and get going. I'll want to hear all about the city when you get back."

"Forget it, guys. When Dad's made up his mind, there's no changing," said Paige, turning to go back into the girls' room.

A few minutes later, I heard the gang leave through the other door. My crotch was very angry with me for shooing away Randi when we could have been having sex all evening. But it was the right thing to do. She wanted to get to know the area, too, and she wouldn't get that staying in with me.

Maybe Little Henry would be less angry if I found something good on Skin-emax and rubbed one out, I thought. I picked up the remote and flicked through the lineup, pausing when I found a scene with a man and woman in a close embrace. Hmm, maybe this will do.

Just then I heard a noise from the other room; it sounded like someone opening the bathroom door. I quickly changed the channel back down a couple of stations to a nature program.

"Hello?"

"I can't believe you tried to get rid of me," came Randi's voice from the darkened room. "Especially since I brought this little outfit with me."

She stepped into the doorway wearing a red babydoll. It was covered in delicate embroidery, but was otherwise sheer. In the soft light from my bedside lamp, I couldn't make out her nipples upon her firm breasts, but I could see the outline of her matching g-string panties.

"I take it you like it," she said around a knowing smile. "I got it from Victoria's Secret, Dream Angels collection."

"Oh, angel is the perfect word for you, darlin'. You look lovely and sexy."

She gave a slow pirouette so I could get the full effect. Her bare cheeks showed through the sheer material, and I could see the thin string that separated those firm, muscular globes. Who the hell needed Skin-emax?

I turned off the TV and tossed the remote onto the table. As she stalked toward me, I swung my legs around to the side of the bed. I was halfway standing when she shoved me backward.

"Maybe you should stay down since you're so tired."

"I think I'm cured now."

Her fingertips tickled my exposed belly as she slid her hands down to my pants. She quickly had me unbuttoned and pulled the zipper down. With my feet still on the floor, I pushed my pelvis up so she could pull the pants and underwear out from underneath me. 

My exposed cock was already halfway hard from seeing her in that outfit and would reach full size in seconds considering how aroused I was.

She didn't bother to wait, dropping her mouth to engulf two-thirds of me right off the bat. She held me inside and swirled her tongue all around the underside. With one hand, she squeezed and tugged on the base while the other hand cupped my balls.

"God that was hot," she whispered as she came up for air. "I could feel you getting bigger and bigger in my mouth. It felt like you were never gonna stop expanding."

I tried to sit up so I could get my hands on those firm tits, but she shoved me back again. 

"I'm not done playing."

She bobbed up and down for a full minute as I groaned in pleasure. Then she pulled back and gave me a tongue bath, all up and down the sides and even down to my sack. Her fist slid up and down my wet length as she sucked gently at my balls.

When all that teasing had me really worked up, I reached for her outfit, intent to pull the babydoll over her head. She stood up abruptly and wagged a finger at me.

"No, no. I love my new babydoll - and you do, too, from the looks of things - so I'm not taking it off. You'll just have to work around it."

With that, she pushed back again, and I let her, wondering what she would do next.

She lowered her mouth once again and took me halfway inside. She drooled all over my rod, then rose up slightly and rubbed the head over the tops of her breasts, just at the edge of the fabric. She paused to slide him into the start of her cleavage a couple of times, but the angle of my erection and the angle of her babydoll didn't allow me to go deep.

She had great, perky breasts, but for once I wished they were a little bigger so she could properly titty fuck me.

She returned her mouth to the head and slobbered all over me again. Then she turned around, put her hands on my knees and lowered her ass to my crotch. My cock rose up the inside of her outfit and touched her exposed cheeks. She slid back and forth and up and down so that I touched her all over her ass. Then she pushed back and had me squished against her crack as she ground herself against me.

I just couldn't take anymore. I reached up, grabbed her around the ribs and pulled her backward. When she fell against me, I rolled over and flipped Randi on her stomach. Then I rolled further until I was lying across her back.

Before she could even react, I sank my teeth into the top of her shoulder and thrust my dick up against her ass again. I slid my lips to her neck and kissed, licked and nipped while watching her hands grip the bed cover. 

Raising up on my hands and knees, I moved down her body and then off the bed with my hands on the back of her thighs, letting her know I was in control now. She held still.

I flipped the sheer material up onto the small of her back with only her g-string between us. I pulled an arm back and dropped a sharp slap onto her right cheek. The smack echoed off the hotel walls.

"Oww," she chirped reflexively, but I was already massaging the burn away. Then I lowered my face and gave wide, long licks across the flesh. I took a deep breath and blew across the wetness to cool her down.

Rather than spend several minutes licking and stroking her lips and clit to get her ready, I simply pulled the string to the left with one hand, while the other brought my cock up to her slit. I rubbed the dripping juices around my fat, spongy head, then leaned in close. I pushed hard and fast right up inside her as she screamed into the mattress. 




Neighborhood Dad Ch. 18



With my legs around the outside of her thighs, I pulled her legs closed, increasing the already snug tightness of her core. For several minutes I pounded into her, hearing her gasp and moan.

I pulled out suddenly, and she gave a whine of protest. I hopped up onto the bed and then leaned back against the pillows. I pulled her toward me and turned her around so that she had her back against me again.

She sank down on me with her thighs spread wide and over the top of mine. In this position, I could easily reach her clit with either hand. My left hand dropped to her hood, while the right reached up to clutch a breast.

I hoped to last much, much longer, but when she began to convulse and tremble, the squeezing of my cock was too much. She milked a huge load out of me, each blast feeling like it was hard enough to lift her off my lap.

When our spasms finally subsided, I lay back against the headboard with her leaning on me, her head against my shoulder. One arm wrapped around her waist and the other just below her breasts. She rested her arms on mine, and we reveled in the moment, neither of us wanting to move.