“Jamie, you don't remember your mother at all. It's always been just me.”
When she nodded, I continued, “We've known each other a long time. I care very deeply about all of you. Kiersten, Melody, you two helped me raise Jamie, in a way. The three of you playing together was easier than taking care of her alone. You spent a lot of time here, right?”
Kiersten offered, “I told you last night about my nickname for you when I was little. You were my fun-daddy, 'cuz I always had fun with you.”
“Yes. Now, I broke a promise, and I'm ashamed to admit it. I didn't close my door tonight.”
“Shit,” Melody whispered. She looked like she might cry.
“How much did you hear?” Kiersten asked.
“Enough. Look, you have more right to be upset than me. I kept my door open to be sure you three settled down and didn't get into any mischief. You're legal adults, but in my house I feel responsible for you.”
“I'm so sorry, Bill,” Melody blubbered.
I pulled her to rest her head on my shoulder. She smelled faintly of vanilla and fresh teen pussy. “Sorry for what? For having fun? For playing a silly game? For talking dirty and feeling good? All I'll say is, when you play with guys, be safe and intelligent, and if you're going to play any more tonight, keep the damn noise down. Okay?”
She wiped her cute green eyes with her hands. “Okay.”
“Good. Goodnight.” Clutching my robe, I stood and kissed her on the forehead. Turning away from her and facing Kiersten, I struggled to keep my eyes on her face, not on the breasts straining against her jersey. “Can you behave?”
Her eyes flickered to my crotch a few times, like she suspected the reason I carried my robe. “Yes. I'm sorry, Bill.”
I kissed the top of her head. “Goodnight.”
Jamie was in her new favo
rite sitting position – cross-legged, crotch exposed. Thank God, she listened to what I said the night before. Her pink bikini panties barely hid my favorite place. The little tease knew it.
“We'll be good,” she said.
I kissed her on the cheek and headed upstairs. “I'm closing my door. Stay in the house. Don't do anything dumb. Be quiet so I can sleep.”
I went upstairs and used the bathroom. When I came out, it was dark downstairs, and the girls were whispering. I closed my door, pulled the sheet up, and wondered how easy it would be to fall asleep.
It seemed like a minute later when Jamie opened my curtains, letting brilliant sunlight glare on my face. “Hungry?” she asked.
Her friends stood in the doorway grinning. The were all dressed alike – Daisy Duke-style shorts and tank tops, and obviously not a bra among them. Three enticing camel toe displays, three pairs of young, unfettered breasts, and three pairs of eyes focused on the morning-wood tent in my sheet.
“Uuuunghh,” I groaned, rolling on my side. “What time is it?”
“Breakfast time. We're all cooking,” my annoyingly cheerful daughter answered.
“Lemme get a shower.”
The girls didn't move. They looked like they were ready to burst.
“I'm gonna get a shower now. With you three in the kitchen, you don't need me, so run along. I'll catch up,” I said.
Still, no one moved. I caught Jamie's eye and gave her my old “Daddy's not amused” look. Her eyes twinkled with naughtiness, but she turned toward the door and said, “C'mon, I'll start the waffles.”
When I was certain they were downstairs, I grabbed some clothes and locked myself in the bathroom.
At breakfast, everyone behaved. The girls babbled about clothes and music videos. Desperately, I tried to concentrate on my food or on the pretty face of whatever girl was talking, not her nipples, or memories or fantasies of her.
“Let's go winter-clothes shopping!” Jamie said.
They did the dishes, since it was Jamie's turn, and then scampered upstairs for the obligatory wardrobe change.