Dead Girl Ch. 04

4

Don pulled his car into the back driveway from the alley, and led Flora in through the back fence. No sense in making himself the object of neighborhood gossip if he could avoid it.

Flora froze when she got into the backyard. "Jesus fucking Christ, Don. You've got a pool?" The question was rhetorical because Flora was staring at the pool.

"Oh, yeah," Don shrugged.

"You should've opened with that, I would've tried to fuck you."

"Hmmm." Don thought back. "Hey are you alright? I thought you were dead. I've got a pool, by the way." He tried to be extra suave when he said the last part. "Something like that? Besides you already tried to fuck me."

Flora cocked her head to the side and squinted at him. "Did I though?"

"Well," Don thought about it. "I guess not, but you were coming on to me pretty hard."

"Was I though?"

"Yes!" Don became animated. "You were totally..." He suddenly realized she was fucking with him. "Fuck off."

Flora gasped. "Don! Such language. I didn't know you talked like that."

"Just because I wasn't shouting obscenities in a crowded restaurant doesn't mean I don't talk like that," he said.

"Was I though?"

"I believe I already told you to fuck off."

"You did," Flora confirmed, turning to look longingly at the pool.

"Go ahead," Don told her as he headed to the back door. "It'll take me a little while with the phone. I'll get you a bathing suit and a towel. The girls left lots of clothes behind, I'm sure I can find a..."

He was cut off by the sound of a splash. He turned around to see only a pair of boots by the edge of the pool. A few feet out, the surface rippled away from a churn of water. Flora emerged wet and smiling.

Don continued into the house and looked through the drawers in his oldest daughter's room. She was the closest in size to Flora. There were several choices from modest 1-pieces to a surprisingly skimpy bikini he'd never seen before (thank God). He chose a bikini that wasn't too risque, but did show plenty of skin. He grabbed a towel and headed back out to the pool.

Flora's wet shirt, skirt, and socks were now lying in a soaked pile next to her boots. She was swimming under the surface back towards him. He waited for her to emerge. He could see her back, ass, and legs ripple under the lightly undulating waves.

Flora got almost to the side and stood up. She ran her hands back over her hair before wiping the water from her eyes. The water cascaded over her bare breasts. He watched them move as her hands ran back over her head. They looked bigger, rounder now, freed from the confinement of her undersized top. They were perfect. He guessed 34 to 36 inch B-cups.

"I got you a bathing suit," he said with feigned exasperation.

"Sorry, I couldn't wait."

He dropped the bikini into the water next to her. "Here's a towel too." Don threw it onto a nearby lounger. "I'd better wash these," he said, picking up her clothes. "You should really put on some sunscreen," he warned before turning.

Flora called out to him as he walked back towards the house. "Don," she sang. He turned to see her holding her dripping panties in the air for him, hanging off a finger tip. "Don't forget these," she looked at him with an innocent smile that betrayed an alluring expectation.

"Uh-huh," Don said casually as he slipped the panties off her finger and added them to the pile.

In the house, Don started the laundry and then went in search of Sheila's abandoned cell phone. It was dead, so he plugged it in next to his chair and went back outside.

Flora was floating on her back completely naked. The bikini he'd brought for her floated close to the edge where he stood, watching her. The waves lapped at the sides of her breasts, splashed between her legs, and made rivulets that traveled across her flat stomach, coming and going with the pool's tide.

Don sighed before speaking. "Do you need anything?"

"I'm good, Don," Flora answered lazily. "Don't I look good?"

"Yes, you do," he mumbled.

"I heard that," she said.

"Seriously," Don dodged. "You need to put on sunscreen."

"Yes daddy," Flora answered playfully. She began to make her way towards him and Don headed back to the house before he found her standing in front of him naked again.

Inside, Don sat down and started working on the phone. He paused for a second before setting it back to its factory presets. But he decided there was nothing on it with keeping. After the reset he had to contact it to the house's wifi to pdate it again. Every step took time, which gave Don plenty of opportunities to look out the window to the pool where he watched Flora frolic. She finally put on the bikini, then got out for the sunscreen. Don watched her dry off, then apply the lotion. When she'd done everything but her back, she turned to Don, shaking the bottle, and singing, "Oh Don."

He got up and went outside. She watched him like a hungry tigress as he approached. "I need some help with my back, Don," she said smiling coyly.

Don obliged her, but was careful not to let his fingers wander off the designated area.

"You have strong hands, Don," Flora said alluringly.

"Uh. Thanks?"

"I like strong hands," she told him. She was coming on strong again.

Before he'd finished, she turned suddenly, causing his fingers to brush over her stomach. She took one of his hands in hers and stepped in close to him. Her breast was pressed against him. She looked up at him and stood on her tip-toes, rubbing her breast along his arm, moving her face close to his. She put a hand on his chest. "I could use some strong hands to put the sunscreen on under my bikini.

Don stood still. "You don't need sunscreen under your suit," he said flatly.

"Are you sure?" Her lips were very close to his. "Maybe you could anyway." She moved the hand she was holding down to her bikini bottom. He could feel the warmth of her body through the material against his fingers. "Don't you want to see how wet your strong hands can make me, Don?"

He swallowed. "Yes," he admitted. But he didn't move.

"You could join me," she enticed. "I could put sunscreen on you, under your swimsuit. Don't you want to know how big and hard your cock would feel in my soft little hands, Don?"

"Yes," he said again.

There was a pause as they stood there together. Flora waited four Don to respond, to finally break. Don thought hard about it.

Finally he spoke, "I'm in the middle of something. He stepped away from her letting go of her hand. She dropped to her flat feet, disappointment, and a little surprise, on her face. "If you get thirsty, there's drinks in the fridge." He tried hard to keep his voice from shaking.

At the door he turned to look at her. She stood with her hands on her hips looking peeved, and beautiful. Once inside, Don nearly collapsed. He put his hands on his knees and breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. He was rock-hard. "Holy shit," he said to himself. "Oh my God." He walked around in a circle rubbing his forehead. "Jesus." He didn't know how he'd resisted her, or why.

Don sat down in his chair. He had to work out why. He'd only had vague notions up til now that had just told him it would be "wrong".

She was too young. She wasn't illegally young, but the age difference was huge, and awkward.

She was damaged. He didn't know exactly what the source or extent of the damage was, but clearly she used sex to compensate, or express herself, or get what she wanted, probably all three. Giving in to her felt like taking advantage of her.

Don did want to help her, or at least try. To do that he would have to win her trust, and her respect. He knew if he fucked her, he'd lose both. And he knew that if he lost those she'd soon be gone.

The thought of losing her filled him with dread. But if he wasn't going to fuck her, then what was he afraid of losing? Companionship, something to fill the emptiness. Was he trying to find another daughter to replace the one that had just left? It was more than that. Was he trying to replace the wife that had just left? Was he trying to replace both?

Maybe it was nothing more than titillation--having someone pretty and sexy to look at, to spend time with, to tak to. To be with someone who treated him like a desirable sexual being, who came on to him, who made him rock hard. All of that was more than anyone else had given him in a long, long time. Flora had certainly gotten his heart beating again.

Don was confused, and a little scared, about his motivations for keeping this girl around. Was this just a bad idea? Was he trying to find justifications for keeping a ridiculous fantasy alive? The thought of him with her was ridiculous. Any desire for him on her part had to be fake, it was just her attempt to manipulate and control him. And that brought him back to her damage, and her desperate need for help--her need to have a man in her life who expected more from her than her body.

Don looked out the window and watched Flora climb out of the pool. She stretched her lithe, young body before drying herself off, and laying down on the lounger. It was an amazing body, and he had no doubt she knew how to use it. But she was more than that. She deserved to have more expected from her than that. He simply needed to be stronger, to have more control of himself.

She was going to test him, for sure. Maybe she wouldn't even know she was testing him, just "fucking with him", or bored. But if he gave in to her then it would be a failure, and they would both know it, eventually.

Besides, he thought, as he looked at her slender legs, it wasn't just pure altruism. He was afraid of her, sexually--afraid of her experience, her bravado, her enthusiasm. He was afraid she would absolutely consume him. But more than that, he was afraid that he would disappoint her. It had been at least a decade since Don had sex with Sheila, or with anyone. He felt pretty sure that he would cum as soon as Flora touched his dick.

Don felt better. He was calmer now, and he was armed with a good defense against her come-ons. He still didn't know fully why he wanted to keep her around, but he thought that his motives could be innocent enough, or at least controllable.

He looked at the phone. It was done updating. He installed a tracking app and then entered his phone number, email, and home address as her only contact. He looked out at Flora again. It was time to send her off. He had no idea whether she'd be back again, but he knew that any effort to force her to stay would only backfire.

Don walked outside with the phone. "OK, " he said as he got close. "It's ready. I put my info in here so that you can..." He saw that she was asleep. It made sense to him. 'She must be exhausted,' he thought. He didn't see any harm in letting her sleep for a little bit. It was actually the best thing for her if she had a concussion. He rolled the big umbrella over and adjusted its height and angle so she was in the shade.

He looked at her sleeping. Her bruise looked painful, but she hadn't complained about it. Her band aid was gone. She seemed so much more peaceful now than the other two times he'd found her unconscious. She really was very pretty. Lying there, she seemed to be a totally different girl. She had the potential in her, he was sure of it. He just hoped he had the intelligence, patience, and self control to help her find it. And he hoped it wasn't too late for her to find a way out of whatever hell she'd been living in.

---

Flora slept all day. Don went out every hour or so to adjust the umbrella so she wasn't in the sun. When the sun started to go down, he covered her with a light blanket. She finally stumbled groggily in as it was getting dark.

"Shit," Flora said, plopping onto the couch. The light blanket was draped over shoulders, but often in the front. Don was sitting in his chair, reading. "What the fuck time is it?"

"Nearly seven," Don said. "You've been asleep for eight hours.

"Fuck."

"Dinner's almost ready," he said, putting down his book. "You must be hungry."

"Starving," she confirmed.

"Why don't you take a shower. You should get that chlorine out of your hair, and it'll help wake you up."

"Are you trying to get me naked, Don?" It was a half-hearted attempt.

"I don't have to try to get you naked," Don corrected. "I've already seen you naked three times."

"Touche."

Don chuckled. "The bathroom is the first door on the left. There's towels and lady stuff in there."

"Lady stuff?"

Don ignored her. "Your clothes are clean over there." He pointed at the neatly folded pile in a chair. "But you can probably find something that fits you in Becky's room. She's about your size. That's the first room on the right past the bathroom."

Flora stood up with a groan, waving off her own clothes. "Can't wait to see what lady stuff you have. I'm a big fan."

"Let me know if you need anything," he called after her as she disappeared around the corner.

When Flora returned, Don was sitting at the kitchen table with two plates, waiting for her. She was wearing a t-shirt that barely covered the panties she had on underneath. Her hair was wet and shaggy.

"Have a seat," Don invited, motioning her to a chair across from him. Flora sat down, still looking groggy. "Yeah, whenever I fall asleep in the daylight and wake up in the dark, I'm pretty fucked up for the rest of the day."

"Jesus, No shit," Flora agreed. "I feel like the walking dead."

"I like your ravens," Don told her.

Flora looked down at the tattoos on her thighs. "How'd you know they're ravens? Everyone thinks they're crows."

"The beaks," Don said matter-of-factly. "Do they have names?"

Flora smiled. "Are you testing me Don? They're Huginn and Muninn."

"Thought and memory," Don confirmed. "An interesting choice."

"It's what makes us who we are," Flora said, taking her first bite. "Holy shit. What is this?" She looked at her plate in wonder.

"It's chicken breast, baked in butter, garlic, and maple syrup." He smiled. "I thought you'd like it."

"Jesus, Don. I love it. I'd totally fu..." She stopped herself. "I love it."

"You're very smart, Flora. Don't think I didn't catch all those references you've been dropping. Humbert? Schrodinger?"

"Yeah?" Flora kept eating.

"You read a lot?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Let me guess. You read in secret so nobody knows. And then in school you were a smart-ass fuck-up who got bad grades."

"You got me all figured out, Don," she said, unimpressed.

Don didn't take the bait. "I doubt it." He took her answer as a yes.

"Did you graduate?"

"Nope," she said, stuffing more chicken in her mouth. "I dropped out in 10th grade. I hated them and they hated me."

"Who?"

"Everyone," Flora said. "The students, the teachers, the principal, the nurse, the counselor. I think even the lunch ladies had a problem with me."

"Hmmm. Well, I'm not sure you didn't give yourself a pretty good education anyway." Don was proud of her.

Flora cleaned her plate and asked for more.

"It's over there on the stove," Don pointed.

Flora returned with another whole chicken breast. "So, where's everyone else, Don? It's a big place for just you."

Don shrugged. "The girls grew up. They moved out. Julia's the youngest. She just started college. Becky graduated earlier this year. She lives in LA now with her boyfriend." He stopped.

"And your wife?"

Don sighed. "She left."

"Left? Where'd she go?"

Don shrugged. "To find herself."

Flora made a face. "Where was she?"

"Up her own ass," Don replied, with some venom. "In my humble opinion." He forced a smile.

"That's rough," Flora said. "How long were you married?"

"25 years. And we're still married. She just left."

"Oooof," she said.

"Yeah. Oooof."

"How long did she have her head up her ass?"

"Always," Don answered quickly. "But totally up her ass? 15 years, more or less."

"Why did you stay?" she asked.

"The girls."

"Was it worth it?" Flora asked. "Do you think you did the right thing?"

"I don't know," Don shrugged. "I like to think so. I like to think that I tempered their mother's influence somewhat, and they've got some of me in there too. But there's really no way to know for sure. In the end, I did what I did. I can't take it back, I can only move on."

Flora seemed to ponder this while she chewed.

"We can't escape our memory," he said wistfully. " But that's why we have thought too, so our past doesn't control us."

Don took his plate to the sink. "I have something for you," he said as he went into the other room. He returned with the cell phone. "Here," he said, handing it to her. "It's only got call and text, no data. But you can use it when you're connected to wifi. You're already logged into that here."

"This isn't an old phone," Flora pointed out.

"No. It's Sheila's. She left it behind."

Flora looked at it, then back up at Don realizing the implications of that. "That's rough," she said again.

"I put my contact info in there, so you can call me if you need help with something, anything. But if you don't call me, then call someone else. OK?"

"Yeah," Flora said. It was unconvincing.

"Do you know who you're going to call?" Don asked. Flora looked at him quizzically. "About staying with them for a bit."

"Oh. Yeah."Flora's tone was unconvincing.

"You don't have anyone to call that you can stay with do you?" Don asked gently. "At least not anyone who's not going to expect sex in return?"

"No," Flora admitted.

"That's OK," Don said calmly. "You can stay here tonight and we'll figure it out in the morning." Flora didn't say anything. She just stared at the phone. "Is that OK with you?"

"Why are you being nice to me, Don? I mean, If you don't want to fuck me?" Flora finally asked. Her voice was tinged with anger maybe, or frustration.

"Nice is how everyone should be to each other, Flora." She rolled her eyes. Platitudes weren't going to work with her. She needed honesty. "I didn't say I didn't want to fuck you, I said I wasn't going to. Remember when I told you that you should be more chosy? I meant that you should expect more from people--from men--than just a hard dick. You deserve more than that. We all do. And you also deserve to have them expect more from you than your ass. As fabulous as it may be. I've been impressed with you, Flora. You've earned my respect, and you deserve it. But now I expect more from you."

"Oral is extra, Don." Flora was looking down, but he could see her crack a smile.

"How much extra?" Don asked, chuckling. "Nevermind. For instance, that cell phone plan costs $30 a month. So you're going to need to work that off. You seem to like the pool. How about you come by and clean it and do all the chemical stuff once every two weeks? Does that sound fair?"

"I've never done that before," she warned.

"I'm pretty sure you can figure it out," he told her. "And you can use the pool whenever you want to. But...please don't fuck in it. And no parties or anything like that either?"

"No worries, Don. Who would I invite to a party?" Flora seemed sad by her admission.

"I don't have any friends either," Don told her. "We have a lot in common."

"You think?" Flora said sarcastically.

"Sure, we're both lonely. And I know something about spending twenty years being shit on, underestimated, unappreciated, taken advantage of, and ignored. Sound familiar?"

"Nobody ignores me, Don," Flora said defensively. Her tone softened and she relaxed, "But, yeah, I guess we do."

Don looked down at Flora's empty plate. "So, if you're done, the dishes go in the dishwasher. Rinse them off in the sink first. I'm going to read a little before I go to bed. You can watch TV if you want. There's a TV in Becky's room if you want to watch in there. You can sleep there too. The sheets are clean. Have you woken up at all?"