Thin Red Lines Ch. 02

Jenny, my wife, Sophie's mother, died from a snake bite whilst on safari with her sister in South Africa. She was 26, Sophie four. Jenny had gone with her sister because her sister's husband had left her ... for another man; her sister needed cheering up. Her sister had returned with the coffin, gone home and committed suicide by an overdose. Boy, that had been a good time. Irony there.

So, 27 years old, married five years to a beautiful, lovely woman, widowed from same and with a four-year-old daughter. What to do? Bounce back, look for a new wife/partner to help with Sophie and perhaps have more lovely babies? Or, quit your job, sink into a year-long booze-addled depression and barely manage to keep Social Services from taking your daughter away from you? Guess; go on, guess.

I pulled through, thanks to help from my parents and Sophie's --how they coped with the loss of both their daughters and still managed to help keep me above water I don't know, but they did.

So, here we are. I manage to write enough, fix people's computers, make a go of day-trading and teach English part-time to keep us in comfort and still give me time to be a parent to Sophie. Fortunately, she has never given me any grief and has always kept on the straight-and-narrow whilst seeming to have lots of fun. As I've said, she's stunning to look at; she's also sporty, funny and very, very intelligent -- she has been offered a place at Oxford to read English Literature and Philosophy. She will get four A*s and she will get a First; that's just the way it will be.

I was in the kitchen making a prawn omelette and salad for our supper when Sophie burst in. I turned and found her wearing a white spaghetti-strap stretch crop-top that clung lovingly to her bra-less perkily-nippled boobs and a short, flouncy, floral lightweight cotton skirt. Her hair, tied up in a ponytail, was damp, so she had clearly had a shower. She dumped a bulging carrier bag in the bin and slammed the lid down emphatically.

"All of it! Gone!"

"What?"

"My underwear, my swimming costumes and bikinis."

I frowned "What, all of your underwear?"

She struck a pose and pulled the side of her skirt up to her waist. "Yes! Look! Look what my knickers have done!" she pouted, looking down at the deep red marks left on her hip by her knickers' waist band and leg elastics. This conversation was getting familiar.

"Err, ouch, but Sophie ... "

"What?" She dropped the hem of her skirt, twisted round and pulled the other side up to show me. "They've really dug in -- it hurts."

"Yes, I can imagine, but ... " My gaze was transfixed by the swell of her perfect bum at the top of her long, slim leg.

She looked up at me, a sudden little glint appearing in her eye. "Kiss." She pointed at a red mark.

"What? No, I can't kiss there -- it was bad enough earlier. Now, lay the table."

"Kiss." She said quietly, in an imploring tone.

I looked at her, her eyes never waivered from mine. I rolled my eyes in resignation and dropped to my knees beside her. She thrust out her hip and I kissed the red line made by the waist elastic as chastely as I could; she sighed with pleasure. As I kissed my way along toward her back she turned, lifting the skirt as she did, completely uncovering her bottom ... dear God, it was so perfect it would have made Michelangelo weep. I worked my way round to her other hip, trying desperately not to stop and look down in rapt adoration at the most buggerable bum I had ever seen. She shuffled round, then, as I reached the antipodean point she pulled the front of her skirt up to expose her belly and ...

"Sophie!" I squawked in horror, looking away, the image of her gently swelling, shaved mons burned into my brain.

"Don't be silly. Be a good daddy and kiss the red marks better." She ordered quietly.

"If I was a good daddy I wouldn't be doing what I'm doing."

I felt her hand on the back of my head and I was pulled towards her belly; in a daze I kissed the red line across it. When I'd finished I looked up at her, frowning slightly at her little smile of triumph.

"See, that didn't hurt, did it?"

I clambered to my feet and she dropped her skirt down; as I stood she leant forward and kissed me quickly on the lips "Thank you, that was nice."

I sighed and turned back to the counter to carry on preparing the salad. "Now, please lay the table young lady."

As I started to rinse the watercress I heard the kitchen table creak; good, she was doing what I asked her.

"Ow! Look!"

What? Not that "look" again - this was getting out of hand. I glanced round and -- holy shit! -- Sophie was sitting on the kitchen table, her skirt pulled up, her feet resting on the table and spread wide apart as she looked down and traced her fingertips along the red marks her knicker elastic had made on her groin! I turned back to face the window, rigid with shock and embarrassment.

"Sophie! Will you for the love of God cover yourself up!"

I couldn't get the picture of her neat, bare vulva out of my mind -- her outer labia had been slightly parted due to her splayed legs and I could see the pinkness of her inner labia and the swell of her clitoris under its hood at the top. It had been a long, long time, but I knew the sight of an aroused pussy when I saw one. I was shocked to the core -- Sophie had never flaunted her body at me so overtly. Sure, she was relaxed about me seeing her in her underwear or bikini around the house -- I'd even seen her topless a couple of times, which seemed to worry me more than it did her. But this situation was different; what the hell was going on? This was more than winding up her father - she had been blatantly exposing herself to me. Together with what had happened earlier I was now a very confused and unhappy man.

I heard the table creak again and hear her walking up behind me. I turned round and glared at her.

"Sophie ... " She silenced me by reaching up with her right hand and putting her fingertips on my mouth.

"It's ok. I don't want you to be embarrassed or upset. I just wanted you to see - I don't mind you looking at me. I know you sneek peeks at me and that's just fine -- I enjoy it; it lets me know that I'm hot and that you're still alive. I love you and I know you love me."

I flushed as she spoke; she took her fingertips from my lips and looked up at me lovingly.

"Sophie, " I said softly "that's very nice, and I understand what you're saying, but today's ... behaviour ... has been a bit much for me to be comfortable with just now."

"Sure, understand. Just be aware that I won't be wearing any underwear this weekend and it's going to be hot, so it's going to be stuff like this." She waved her hands at herself to indicate her clothes. "Plenty of opportunities for sneek peaks." She giggled, kissed me quickly again and spun on her heels to go and lay the table. "So, come on, where's my supper?"

I stared at her back briefly, taking in those long, slim legs, then rolled my eyes and turned back to the food prep; it was simply impossible to be mad at her.

Twenty minutes later we sat down and dished up the food, I poured the wine -- a nice Chablis -- and we set to.

"Anna's coming round tomorrow morning -- she's staying over."

The delectable Anna: Sophie's best friend. An exquisitely formed and beautiful bundle of giggly, flirtatious fun that had me running for the safety of my study every time she came over. The young woman took even more mischievous delight in winding me up than Sophie. I had seen them grow up together since they had become inseparable friends, seemingly joined at hip and mind, at the age of 14, and it had been a joyous nightmare.

"Ok, what're you going to be doing?"

"Just chilling, girlie stuff, you know."

"Will she be bringing you some underwear?" I asked hopefully.

"No, silly -- we're different sizes -- she's ... " she thrust her chest out at me, the white material of her crop-top threatening to rip under the pressure " ... got bigger boobs than me, and her knickers would fall off me. It's her Latin genes, and she's been on the pill two months longer than me. Anyway, I told you I'm not wearing underwear -- sick of it ... until my new stuff arrives!" She smiled cheerily at me. "And, if I'm not wearing underwear, then Anna's not wearing underwear." She added matter-of-factly.

I nearly choked on my mouthful of omelette as my eyes widened in alarm (although all the while staring at her perfect, pointy-tipped boobs). Anna was indeed slightly more ... curvaceous than Sophie. In so many, subtle, mouth-watering ways ... I tried to get a grip on my train of thoughts as it steamed off into dark recesses bearing an underwear-less Anna.

Wait a minute ... back up ... 'on the pill two months longer than me' ... whaaat?

"Holy crap, Sophie, when did you go on the pill? You didn't tell me!"

She looked briefly flummoxed "Two months ago. Was I meant to tell you? That's why my boobs have grown."

I thought for a moment. "Well, I don't know -- it's your choice of course. It's just ... well ... " I tried to look as relaxed as a father should, all the while thinking 'Shit! She's on the pill! She's shagging boys! My daughter! Nnnooooo!'

"Well, I'm going up to uni in October and I'll probably meet young men there, and you know ... " she tailed off with a slightly embarrassed little grin.

"Yes, I suppose so."

Sophie laughed "It's alright Daddy, I haven't been sleeping around -- boys of my age are such idiots." She rolled her eyes and grinned at me. "I'm still Daddy's little girl."

"Hmm. Not based on what I've seen today." I blushed and Sophie threw her head back and laughed loudly.

"Oh you should have seen your face!" She reached across the table and grabbed my hand, then went suddenly serious. "Daddy, after dinner I need to talk to you."

"Oh God. Didn't you do the birds and the bees at school?"

She grinned, suddenly her cheery self again. "Yes of course we did silly."

I gave a sigh of relief.

We'd finished our food so I got up and moved into the living room with our glasses -- whichever of us didn't prepare had the job of clearing up after meals, so Sophie clattered around in the kitchen. Five minutes later she joined me. I was sitting in my favourite armchair, and rather than flopping onto the long sofa as she usually did I suddenly found her descending sideways onto my lap. I yanked my wine glass out of harm's way and grunted as she settled herself onto me, her long legs dangling over the arm of the chair.

"Er, well, hello." I said apprehensively, acutely aware of just how much of her thighs her skirt wasn't covering.

She slipped one arm round my neck and gave me a peck on the lips. "Hi. Comfy?" She wiggled her bottom, which made me frown disapprovingly at her, and her giggle knowingly at me.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked her.

"Weeelll, it's like this. As we've established, Anna and I are on the pill." She paused and looked at me, as if for reassurance.

"Yeeesss ..." I nodded slightly, wondering where this was going.

"It's just that neither of us has .... you know ... been with a boy." She blushed slightly; I had to take a swig from my wine glass to hide my smile -- it's difficult to describe the smile that says 'Yes! My little girl is still unsullied by grubby, evil men!' and 'Isn't she adorable!' and 'I'm so glad she can talk to me like this.' and 'Ha! She's feeling awkward!' and 'Holy crap! My little girl shaves her pussy!' and 'She exposed herself to me! Her tits and her pussy!' and 'She was feeling horny when she exposed herself to me!' and 'Holy shit, I'm in trouble here!' ... very difficult indeed.

"Ohhh-kaayyy, that's nice."

She smacked her hand into my chest and grunted.

"No, listen. We haven't been with a boy ... " She paused, clearly searching for what to say or how to say it "But we're not virgins."

I clearly looked slightly baffled, as she frowned, obviously disappointed that I hadn't immediately grasped the import of what she had said. She groaned quietly, then looked at me purposefully, grabbed a handful of my T-shirt and took a deep breath.

"Daddy, Anna and I are lovers."

You could have heard the proverbial pin drop. If it wasn't for the sound of my empty wine glass smashing on the wooden floor that is. We ignored it, both rooted to the spot staring intently into each other's eyes.

"I had wondered." I said faintly. And I had. In my wildest, most depraved fantasies of course. All those times when they'd been having sleepovers they must have been ... dear God, how hot is that?! And I never knew.

"I know it must come as a bit of a shock."

"Indeed. But hey, you are who you are, and that's fine with me."

She smiled at my pathetic attempt to express understanding, respect and tolerance. "There's more."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

"We're lovers -- have been for a long time -- but we like boys as well; we're bi, not gay. As I said, we just don't want to have sex with spotty, inexperienced idiot boys, and anyway, we keep each other ... satisfied." She gave me an impish grin; I gave her a slightly pained smile.

Pained because, apart from her revelations being a bit of a shock, her revelations were causing expansion problems in the fatherly nether regions. And the presence of her warm body and it's state of exposure on my lap didn't help matters. She grinned, then levered herself upwards slightly with elbows on the arm of the chair, then, to my further embarrassment, looked down and watched as I adjusted my cock to a more comfortable position. She lowered herself back down onto my lap and leant forward and kissed me again.

"Poor old Daddy, I guess it's a bit of a shock having your hot daughter exposing herself to you and telling you about being lovers with her oh-so-hot best friend. And no-one to take care of your needs." She gently stroked the side of my face and gave me another kiss.

I nodded gently and smiled ruefully at her.

"And that's not all. This is where the weird shit comes out Daddy."

"What? Weird ... do you want ... need to be telling me this?" I asked suspiciously.

"Yes, I do. This stuff is very important. Daddy, you know how Anna teases you so much?"

"Yesss, I had noticed that; why do you think I keep out of her way."

She grinned "Yes, that just makes her tease you more. There's a reason: Anna thinks you're the hottest man on the planet."

"What?! I'm old enough to be her father!"

"Yes, you are. Old enough to be the father she doesn't have."

All I knew was that Anna's father left her mother when Anna was two; I had never asked about that as Anna had let it slip when I asked about her parents when Sophie first brought her home for tea after school when they were 14. Strangely, whilst we only lived a mile apart and had spoken on the phone several times, I had never met Anna's mother -- we always seemed to miss each other at parents' evenings or other school functions, and our social paths just didn't cross.

"And, Daddy, you are one fit, handsome guy -- even at your advanced age." She snorted as she tried to keep a straight face; I glared at her. "No, I mean it: you're a hunk. And you're nice - you're thoughtful, loving, honest, loyal ... why else would a hot babe like Mummy fall for you?"

I nodded "Issa true wotta you say -- I wozza da coolest guy on da beach."

She smacked my chest again and laughed. "Idiot." She suddenly went serious again. "Anyway, Anna is coming over for the weekend. Anna has the hots for you big time. Anna wants you to make love with her, to be her first man."

"Whaat?!" I squawked.

She nodded "Mm-hm. I told you this was weird stuff. But don't worry, it gets weirder."

"How could it possibly get weirder?" I gasped at her.

"I want you to be my first man as well."