Kitten's Father's Story Ch. 01

How do I know that it will be that way too? When Kitten wrote the last time, Marlie added after Kitten's signature: "Thank you so much for having me too. I am looking so much forward to coming with you both. M-L"

Kitten had then squeezed in below it: "! Don't know if it's her weak English or if she really means it that way, but she does! Me too!"

In that letter, which Marlie could read, she hadn't included some of the not so subtle implications her letters usually had, including some about Marlie's having told her how lucky she was to have such a nice father, that she liked older men, and a couple of other things I have forgotten, but implying - or letting me infer - that she understood that it would be for her like it was in Paris for Kitten.

Oh, after Kitten suggested our inviting Marlie, I recalled what she had told me about her in Florence, describing her smaller breasts but more prominent nipples, that they were darker than her own, and that she liked Marlie's "kitten." I had replied that it sounded like she wanted me to like it. In my letters then, I replied to Kitten's innuendos about how nice it would be with Marlie in Venice in the same vein: writing that it would be "very nice," the quotation marks referring to our talk about statues and her own breasts; that I was looking forward to "really getting to know Marlie;" that I hoped "we would see a lot of each other" - not all in one letter.

Kitten had replied that she had shared the letters with Marlie - telling what else they had done before or afterwards - and that she had made sure Marlie understood the innuendos. Regardless of how well Marlie understood what she had written, she understood that her week with us in Venice would indeed be something like Kitten's visit in Paris.

It is going to be very funny meeting Marlie, for her too. I'm taking them to dinner and staying in a hotel, and then we're going to be on the train together for hours. It is going to be very funny, definitely not the right word. We've hardly met, but have both agreed that we understand what's going to happen, that were going to sleep with each other! And then with two young girls? I was pleased, a little proud that I could do everything Kitten had wanted, but with two girls like that? Maybe they can enjoy each other like they do and give me a rest. That would be nice to see, "very nice!"

Oh, the seat belt sign is on, we're about to land.

And something else, when I was back home after Easter, I went to the art museum bookstore and looked for French paintings of nudes. "Very nice!" Courbet, Ingres, and others. I remembered having seen some of the paints, of course. Kitten had been right: in the 19th century they liked models with more up front. I really like Courbet's "Woman in the Waves." Kitten's breasts aren't quite as large, but they look perfect on a younger woman and are about the same shape when she raises her arms, like the girl in the painting is. Of course, I can't be objective. I'd probably like Marlie's breasts just as much - if I were her father.

* * *

"Funny" wasn't the word for it! Kitten greeted me first at the school, of course, with the embrace I was expecting, but just kissing cheeks, left and then right. She really kissed mine. Marlie was a step or two behind her, watching us. I saw her nod slightly, but when she saw me looking at her, she blushed, and then I did, hopefully not as deeply as she was. We separated, and Kitten stepped back and said to me:

"You remember Marie-Louise, Marlie."

When I held out my hand, she took it, looking a little more relaxed. Had she been worried that I would immediately embrace her? We rubbed cheeks. When our hands dropped, she said softly:

"Thank you so much for letting me come with you and Cathy."

Since she didn't blush or smirk, I assumed that she didn't recognize the double entendre. Kitten would have, of course, and I didn't want to see her expression, replying:

"I'm so glad your parents agreed that you could join us, after Ki-Cathy had such a nice time in Paris."

I really had only meant the obvious, that I was pleased to repay their hospitality, but it seemed that neither of us could say something that wasn't an innuendo.

"I did," Kitten added. When I looked at her, she was just smiling at Marlie, who nodded and agreed without blushing: "We did."

Nice, I thought, that she could admit that in front of me. Maybe she wasn't thinking about how it had been "nice" in Paris. But she was, then blushing again and looking at me with an abashed expression. I hoped my mild smile looked understanding. She shrugged slightly, then murmured:

"You know about us; she said she told you."

"And about your brother," Kitten added softly.

Marlie blushed again, nodding with another shrug. Kitten glanced at me and added:

"And about us," and stepped closer to me.

Marlie nodded again, looking at us. I nodded, glancing at Kitten. Then Marlie smiled slightly and murmured:

"I liked that."

"We do too," I agreed, giving them both a smile.

Marlie smiled better, nodding again, then grinned at Kitten and said something French. Kitten chuckled with a vigorous nod and replied in French. Marlie chuckled and nodded, giving me a big smile.

"What was that about?" I asked, smiling back at her.

"Tell you on the way to dinner," Kitten replied.

We set off into the town. My hotel was in Geneva. The girls were going to take a taxi to meet me at the train station in the morning. As we walked, I glanced right and left at the girls, with a quizzical expression at Kitten. She chuckled and explained.

"Of course, we wondered how that was going to be. Marlie was very apprehensive."

"I was too," I agreed, giving Marlie a smile, who smiled back, repeating 'very!'

"She said something about not having expected that we were immediately going mention all that, but that it was good, that it somehow had happened."

"It was!" Marlie confirmed, giving me another smile.

"It sure was!" I agreed.

We all hummed, exchanging smiles, the girls leaning forward to smile at each past me. Then I was surprised to feel Marlie take my arm. I offered my other one to Kitten, and we all hummed again. I stood a little straighter, pleased to have two young women holding my arms. No one else knew that one was my daughter; I could be a favorite, lucky uncle of them both.

During our dinner, there were no more references to our earlier conversation or anything related to it, unless the girls' telling how much they were looking forward to seeing Venice suggested that, but we all were just talking about what we knew about the famous city in the lagoon. I needed a taxi to get back to Geneva, and we all took one back to the school. The driver was probably surprised to see how Kitten embraced me, and this time Marlie and I didn't shake hands when we rubbed cheeks. She even nodded, when I put my hands on her shoulders, like I had seen other men do.

Back in my hotel, in bed, I hummed; it had all gone so well, more from what the girls had said, and then Marlie's taking my arm. Just right! A young woman could take any man's arm without it meaning anything, but after our conversation and what she had told Kitten in French, and all the innuendos in our letters, it did mean something. Maybe the long train ride together wouldn't be as difficult as I had been anticipating. But then? Hopefully the hotel was the way I wanted it to be.

We met at the station and found three seats by the window in a compartment for six, two together, the other one opposite them, by the window. I suggested the girls sit together and sat facing them. We all smiled. When the train started, I got out my new guide book about Venice, and then the girls both found theirs, two different ones. Once, when I glanced up, I saw that Marlie was looking at me. She smiled slightly, and we both looked down at our books again, but I was just turning the page, wondering what she could be thinking, and then wondering that I hadn't looked at her breasts.

She must have been wearing a bra the previous evening. If she hadn't been, her nice nipples would surely have popped out when she was blushing, and I wouldn't have overseen them. Oh, was she wondering about my cock? Kitten must have said it was different than her brother's. Both of us wondering how the other looked without anything on? I glanced up again, but she was looking at her book. Just as well. I turned the page back and continued reading.

I noticed them comparing books, both in French, "Venise" on the front and binding. They exchanged them, thumbing to read what the other book said about something. A few minutes later, Marlie said something in French. Kitten nodded, and they put their books aside. Kitten shrugged and said:

"Got to go."

"How often have I heard that," I replied spontaneously, suddenly wondering if the two other persons in the compartment understood. Kitten gave me a smirking smile. Marlie looked surprised, but then raised her eyebrows and smiled. Kitten slid the door open, and they disappeared. I was appreciating Marlie's nice eyebrows, when the man by the window chuckled and said:

"Must be your daughter, if you said that."

He spoke good English with a slight French accent. I could have expected that: Geneva, UN, etc. I nodded and replied:

"Then you must have one too."

"Not that old, and doesn't say that in English. You're Americans?"

"Yes. Her girlfriend is from Paris."

"I thought so, from her accent."

"It's all just French for me. Let's them chat without my understanding.

"They must be good friends; your daughter's French hardly has an accent."

"Yes, they are. She says that she likes that her friend helped her without being critical, like she had heard that some French are about foreigners' trying to speak French."

"Some are, true. I see that you're going all the way to Venice."

"Yes, and you?" I replied, hoping that he wasn't.

"Have to change trains to go to Livorno, Leghorn in English."

"Always thought Leghorn was Lugano."

"Yes, strange, the English name does sound more like that."

I glanced at my book, and he picked up his newspaper. I raised my book, remembering that after my comment to Kitten I had been wanting to wonder about the girls' "kittens." The other, older man in the compartment was swarthy and hadn't paid any attention to our conversation, only glancing up when he heard Livorno. I assumed that he was an Italian laborer who didn't understand English. What was there to wonder about the girls' "kittens"? I knew Kitten's and had her suggestions of how Marlie's looked. But if she had been wondering about my cock, I could wonder about her "kitten". What did Italians call them?

The girls had returned, chatting in the corridor. Were they also wondering what was going to happen when we got off the train and took the vaporetto to the Lido and got to our hotel? It had gone so well the previous evening; were they maybe discussing what could happen, planning something? What did I want to happen? Too obvious! How? Just have to wait and see.

When they continued to talk, I stood up and joined them. They had heard the door slid open and turned to me, Kitten smirking and asking:

"Got to go, too?"

"Not yet, but the gentleman in the compartment immediately suggested that you must be my daughter, if I had said that."

"He did?"

"Told him that he must also have one. Younger, doesn't say that in English. Oh, he said that you hardly have an accent, that he had thought that you, Marlie, are from Paris. Told him that you have helped Ki-Cathy with her French."

She smiled with a nod and said:

"You can call her Kitten; I know you do."

"But not why you might think."

She just smiled, wrinkling her nose, and replied:

"But now you do, know that we do."

Kitten also looked a little surprised at what Marlie had said.

I shrugged, nodding. If she could say that? I replied:

"Both of them."

I was looking to see if her nipples popped out. Damned bra, but I saw her thighs twitch, even better. She was blushing slightly, but nodded slightly and murmured:

"Three kittens."

"Mmmm! 'Three little kittens' Tell Marlie the rhyme; I do have to go."

I left them, delighted by Marlie's remarks and wondering if my saying that I had to go let her think about my cock. She had almost directly suggested that I think about their two kittens, pussies.

When I returned to the compartment, Kitten was sitting where I had. I sat down next to Marlie, wondering what the man could think about our exchanging seats, obviously the girls' decision. Yes, maybe a good idea, Marlie and I not having to look at each other. We returned to reading. When Marlie's elbow touched mine on the armrest between us, I left a little space for hers, but her elbow just rubbed on mine, as I heard a soft hum.

This worse than just trying not to glance at her! Better, of course, too much better! I felt my cock move. Stop thinking about it, try to forget all those innuendos in the letters, that had made it so clear that we both knew what was eventually going to happen. The man was hidden behind his newspaper. I shook my head slightly with a very soft "hm-umm" and let her elbow have the whole armrest. But her elbow still wanted to rub my arm.

Was Kitten watching this? I glanced up. She was, and smirking slightly! Had they been planning this in the corridor? Wicked girls! But didn't I want them to be? Not yet, but if they wanted to assure me that it was going to be like we had been anticipating, that was very good. Which one of them had suggested doing it this way, if that was what they had been discussing? Or was it all Marlie's idea, and Kitten was just passively observing? Not passively, when I glanced up at her again, she smirked and squeezed her thighs together and then crossed them and drew in her calf, suggesting that she was squeezing again.

I looked back in my book, looking in the index to see if our hotel was listed. It was, and I found it on the map, just to distract myself from thoughts about the girls. But wondering about the rooms ruined that, as I envisioned my double bed with the three of us on it. Now there seemed no question that we would be. If it was like that, how would we make the girls' twin beds look as though they had been slept in? We had to get out of the compartment; Marlie's elbow had rubbed again.

"Let's go have something to eat," I suggested.

The girls quickly agreed, and we set off through the cars to find the restaurant car. On the way, it occurred to me that I was thinking less about Kitten's being my daughter, more seeing her as the intimate girlfriend of Marlie. Was that good or bad? For the next few days it was convenient. Then I remembered that she was wearing the chain without the broach. Maybe she also didn't want us to remember too much how we had spent Easter Week. Maybe a good idea.

We found a table and sat down. This time, I was again facing both of them. We ordered, including a bottle of wine that wasn't going to be as good as its price in the train. While we waited to be served, I glanced at their breasts. Kitten just smiled. Marlie instinctively rubbed her forearm over hers, but then smirked slightly. Her nipples had wanted to pop out. Even if she initially reacted like that at feeling them, she had smirked, admitting that I understood and that she didn't mind. She didn't have to murmur: "I know: Ca-Kitten told you about them."

I could only smile apologetically with a nod. And Marlie wanted to use my name for Kitten, that also referred to their pussies! This was not how I had anticipated our train trip would be, worrying that Marlie and I would be sitting there, both embarrassedly wondering how we were going to get from just shaking hands to doing what all the correspondence more than just implied that we both expected we would do.

Kitten was smiling at me, and then I felt her foot touch mine. Don't do that, I wished; this is already getting too suggestive. Now we all know what we're going to do and that we want to. But her foot slid up over my loafer, and then her toes were moving on the top of my foot. Shit, she had slipped out of her sandal or whatever. Was this part of their planning in the corridor? Was Marlie also going to play footsie with me, or was Kitten suggesting that I do with her?

The waiter came with the bottle of wine and opened it at the table. This wasn't Amtrak. He poured a little in my glass, waiting for me to taste it. When I had and nodded, he half-filled the girls' glasses and then mine. Kitten's toes were moving, closer to my ankle.

The previous evening, I hadn't dared offer a toast to our coming week together - not just to avoid the word "coming." Now I did, smiling at them in turn:

"Kitten, Marie-Louise, I hope the coming week will be as delightful as we all want it to be."

"I do too," Marlie replied.

"I'm sure it will be," Kitten added, her toes wiggling again.

We drank, and smiled at each other, just polite smiles at first, but then all nodding with better ones. Oh yes, we all knew what my "all we want it to be" implied - without Marlie's then rubbing her arm over her breasts again. What were other guests thinking about us? If Marlie could - or had to - do that twice, I really should respond. I slid the front of my foot to one side, only a fraction of an inch and touched her foot. She smiled just very slightly, and then her other foot touched the other side of mine. She had been waiting for me to and making sure that my foot found one of hers in either direction. They pressed mine between them. At least, she still had her shoes on, and I had done the right thing, but this couldn't continue, not if they didn't want me to do more than spread my napkin on my lap. I raised my glass again and said:

"I'm sure it will be, too, ... when we get to Venice."

The girls drank with me, and Kitten caught the meaning of the pause, nodding and scraping her toes down and removing her foot from mine. Marlie's feet pressed mine again as she smiled with almost pursed lips. Either she hadn't understood the subtle suggestion in English that we wait till Venice, or she didn't want to. Either way, from her expression and my foot, she had understood that we all had the same idea of how it would be in Venice.

When her foot nearer Kitten moved away, I wondered if Kitten had helped it with hers. She had, she winked at me with her other eye, reminding me that as a kid she had wanted to learn to wink with each eye, like I could, practicing until she could. But Marlie was smiling at me, her other foot still against mine, pressing hard enough to move it.

With hindsight, I now have to wonder that I couldn't have imagined that the girls would somehow find a way to indicate to me their agreement on how our week in Venice would be, even if Marlie had been surprised about what was said, when we first met. The girls must have talked about it all. They had; Kitten had said that Marlie had been apprehensive about how it would be to meet me; they just hadn't had a solution for that. Back to the present.

The waiter brought us our meal and refilled our glasses. We ate, talking about what we had read in our guide books, exchanging suggestions of what to see after we had seen all the must-see places. When we had our last sips of wine, their feet both touched mine again. I pressed mine against theirs, and we all smiled, almost as though it were just about having taken our last sips.

I paid, and we returned to our compartment, discovering that at the station stop during our meal, the other men had gotten off and that an Italian couple and small child were in the other seats, the parents busying themselves with the child. I again sat facing the girls, now very comfortable the situation. Instead of reading, I slid my hips forward on the seat and leaned back, extending my legs, so that my feet were nearly between their seats. If they wanted to keep in contact with me, they could. I closed my eyes and waited.