Stacy Ch. 04

"Mom!" I protested. The way she was with me you would think I was ten instead of twenty-eight. Her hands caressed my back as she kissed me.

"Don't let the little minx run you ragged, okay?"

I grinned down at her, "I can handle the brat."

She chuckled her musical laughter, "Stop calling her that!" A mischievous smile spread across her face, "Even if she does warrant it."

"Have a good time Daddy," Stacy said, kissing his lips and squirming up into his arms so that he had to cup her under her butt while she hugged the breath from him. Finally he kissed her again and lowered her back to the floor. She put her hands behind her back, gripped her wrist and pouted up at him, "Daddy?"

"Yes, Peanut?"

"Are you going to bring me back a present?" she asked coyly, wiggling her shoulders from side to side like a little girl.

As always, Dad went smiling into the brat trap. "Of course I am, Honey."

"That's nice," she said wistfully, turning the full Stacy charm on him. "But I wouldn't want you taking time out from your holiday to waste it looking for something for me. How about you just give me some money now, and I buy my own present?"

I groaned when I saw him reach for his wallet, "Oh for fu..."

"Jack!" my Mom warned in a chuckle. "You're not in the army now. Mind your language in front of your sister." The absurdity of that warning almost made me laugh as echoes of the dirty talk that Stacy liked filled my ears, but I managed to refrain and just shrugged, "Okay, Mom."

The brat flashed me a quick glare of triumph as she held her hand flat while Dad counted out several notes. I gritted my teeth against the urge to say anything more.

Mom slid her arms around my neck as she leaned up for one last kiss, her green eyes sparkling in the sunlight. She tasted like strawberries and smelled like vanilla. "Mmmmm," she murmured, closing her eyes for a second and smacking her lips, "You be a good boy, Jack."

"I'm twenty eight years old for God's sake, Mom," I grumbled, allowing her to slip free. "I'm not a boy anymore."

"No, you're not," she said, her lips twitching into a smile as she lifted a hand to stroke my cheek while she looked earnestly into my eyes. "But you'll always be my baby, though."

A sharp whistle signalled that the train was preparing to leave and so our parents made a dash for it; Dad lugging their suitcase in one hand and holding Mom's hand in the other.

Frantic waves were exchanged when they were aboard as the train began sluggishly pulling away from the platform. When they were finally out of sight, Stacy turned to me with a wicked grin, "So, what do you want to do now?"

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We had been back home for about half an hour. After making herself a peanut butter sandwich, Stacy had come over to the sofa I was sprawled out on and sat perched on the edge while she ate her snack. I let my fingers twirl the end of her long blonde ponytail, causing her to slant me a sideways smile as she took another huge bite of her sandwich.

I couldn't resist a little bit of teasing, "Why are you so skinny when all you do is eat like a pig?"

Grinning, she chewed and swallowed, then licked her lips before raising her eyebrows at me, "How come you are so muscly when all you do is drink like a fish?"

"Ouch!" I chuckled, "You win." I twiddled a strand of her long hair, "Show me some tit."

Chewing on her next bite, Stacy grabbed the bottom of her "Gymnasts do it on the floor" Tee-shirt with one hand and lifted it up to reveal her pert left breast. The way the pale creaminess of her firm little mound contrasted with the pinkness of her long nipple made me stir and I recalled how good it had been to suckle on it that morning. She casually held up the shirt while she bit another chunk out of her sandwich and then dropped it down. Licking her lips, she wiggled her eyebrows lewdly, making me laugh as I stroked her back fondly.

The phone shook in its cradle as it rang loudly.

"That'll be another one of your little airhead friends wanting to gossip about what such-a-body saw at the mall," I groaned, spanking her butt as she stood up to go and answer it. She looked amazing in her tight cream shorts.

Still with the half eaten sandwich in one hand, she picked up the receiver and said, "Mph-llo?"

For a moment she listened and then wrinkled her nose in disgust, "It's that big sweaty tub of lard that you hang around with." She could have at least made some effort to cover the mouth piece so that Cooper didn't hear what she said, but no, not when she was in brat mode.

"Give it here, you snotty little cow," I frowned. She smiled ever so sweetly, held out the handset to me and when I reached for it, dropped it just before I got hold. "Ooops," she shrugged and pranced into the kitchen.

"Hey Coop," I said after retrieving the phone.

"Oh man!" he hooted. "Are you stuck with babysitting the kid this weekend?"

"Not really; Stacy can look after herself. Why?"

"Well, we figure that it's your turn to host the party and seein' as how you got the run of your house, we thought we'd grab a keg and scoot over. That okay?"

"Sure," I said, watching Stacy walk back in from the kitchen. She snatched up her lip balm off the sideboard, climbed into Dad's chair and began to dab it on. "What time are you planning on coming over?"

"Tank-boy, Emma and Mitch are already here and we bought the keg earlier. All we have to do is go and pick up Miranda and she says she'll be ready in ten, so say in about twenty minutes?"

I grinned remembering Miranda's idea of ten minutes; I'd put money on her not being ready for at least half an hour. "Okay, see you when you get here," I said, placing the handset back on its hook.

Stacy frowned, her little finger stopping spreading the cherry balm over her lips, "They're coming here?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not."

"How about the fact that they're drunken layabouts that are no good?"

I scowled at her, "Hey, watch it. Those are my friends."

For a moment it looked like she was going to give me her usual smart-alec abuse, but she saw the expression on my face and changed her mind. "I'm not being the only normal person in a house full of losers. If you are inviting some of your friends around, then I'm inviting some of mine too."

"No, you're not," I said, hating the idea of her airhead team-mates descending on the place.

"Yes, I am," she pouted. "And if you say I can't then I shall have to ring Daddy and ask him!"

The little brat knew that Dad would get on my case if he knew my buddies were coming over with a keg. "Fine, call your stupid friends, then," I grumped. Now instead of just my friends there would also be a dozen or so of Stacy's eighteen year old gymnastic team-mates too.

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FROM THE AUTHOR : Sorry about the long delay in getting this written. Life huh? I hope that you enjoyed it and, as ever, would really like to hear if you did. A big thank you to OMEGAZONE for his help and friendship - both are gratefully received.