Guilty Pleasures Ch. 10

"Oh yeah."

"You are a bad influence."

"Don't I know it," I sighed.

*

Again, Becca brought her gang on Sunday. Again, things went according to script. Stephanie teased me, the girls goaded her, she responded. Monica did not, to my knowledge bone any more college boys in my house. It did not mean she didn't introduce herself to a few more. I wondered if any would make the cut. At least I didn't have to change any more sheets.

It was a great afternoon. My daughter had a great time. I got a small amount of work done, and needed the apron that I had ready more than once. But there was nothing new or exceptional about anything.

As usual, I got minimal help with cleanup at the end of the afternoon. Fortunately, the kids were pretty good about keeping things clean as they went, so I had a fairly easy time policing things up after the last kids left about seven o'clock.

I swept soda cans up, tossed a few stray paper plates, and emptied the coolers. I only had to toss three uneaten burgers and a few more hot dogs than that. They had been hungry on the whole.

I went over by the far side of the pool to pick up a bag of trash that someone else had collected before leaving. Really? You collect a bunch of trash, then don't put it in the cans?

Kids.

I froze.

There, sitting on the ground behind the stack of pool noodles was a big, three-foot diameter hat. The gorgeous fucking work of art that Stephanie had been rocking most of the afternoon. It was stark white, with a three inch black rim around the outside of the brim. She had looked ethereal in it, and had received compliments non-stop from everyone except me. I'd said it looked all right.

And there it was, lying there lonely in the grass.

The chances that she had unintentionally forgotten this new, expensive, extremely showy and well-received hat were slim and none, and Slim got shot last week...

As if on cue, I heard the doorbell ring. Slim was buried on Boot Hill.

I'll admit it. My dick twitched at the mere sound of my doorbell.

Maybe? This was one of the oldest tricks in the book.

I opened the door.

There was Stephanie, standing there, new swimsuit nowhere to be seen, instead sporting a sky blue sundress with spaghetti straps and an elastic pleated bodice that hugged her wonderful bust gently.

She smiled in less than her usual brash fashion and said quietly, "Hi, Mister Howard. Sorry to be back so soon, but... Did someone find my hat? It was really big, and..."

"I know the hat, Stephanie," I interrupted. "For the record, it really is gorgeous. I'm sure no one took it, so it is probably still here. Want to come in and help me look for it?" I stepped back invitingly. She had intentionally left the hat so she'd have this excuse to come back for it. Of course she wanted to come in and look for it.

"Thanks!" she said, perking up immediately, like someone whose plan is coming together. She swept in the door past me, letting the swirling folds of her dress brush against my legs as she entered. I was still wearing just my trunks, since I had not finished cleaning. I had ditched the apron, unfortunately. At least the trunks were baggy.

"Nobody stayed to help you clean up?" she asked casually. "I should have."

"Not a problem. I usually send any volunteers home," I replied walking just behind her through the house. "You guys are always very neat to begin with, and you mostly clean up after yourselves as you go."

We stepped back out into the yard, and Stephanie looked around, as if she hadn't spent hours each week back here. "Your back yard is the bomb, Howie," she smiled. I was back to Howie.

"It is not so big. It shouldn't be hard to find your hat. If I remember, astronauts should be able to pick it out from space."

She favored me with a dazzling smile for such a lame joke.

I intentionally started looking in the wrong place, and rather than strike out on her own, Stephanie stayed close with me, looking around. I was glad to extend the process, since I was spending much more time examining Stephanie's form than searching for a hat which I already knew the location of. The dress covered about a billion times more of her body than her bathing suit had earlier. In that suit, she was just a total sex bomb. Now, in this light, simple dress you could see that not only was she sexy, she was genuinely beautiful as well.

I was very, very nervous. I figured I knew where this was going, but wasn't sure. And I very much wanted it to go There. But I was not sure. Nor was I sure, if it did go, how far There would be. How far should There be...?

I worked my way around the far side of the pool. The pump enclosure was low, and heavily landscaped around. I paused to 'check the area'. Stephanie looked intently around as well, now placing her hand on my bare shoulder to brace herself to peer into the hedge. Not seeing what was obviously not there, she straightened, letting her hand slide off my shoulder by way of caressing most of the way down my back.

Yeah, good thing for the baggy trunks.

"Oh my goodness! There it is!" Stephanie exclaimed, and dashed over to where the hat lay between two of the cheaper sun loungers I had. They used to be Rebecca's and my primary furniture, but shortly before our divorce, we had bought new stuff, and shifted these old chairs out to the far side. Purchases like that had been moving the deck chairs around on the Titanic of our marriage...

She moved around beyond the chairs and knelt to extract the hat. I'm sure the view of her torso bending forward to grab the hat was totally incidental. She favored me with a brilliant smile.

"Wow, I am so glad. Dad bought me this on a business trip to Miami. I'd have had to come up with a whopper of an excuse to have lost it."

"Yes," I agreed, smiling as she bounced back to me and gave my arms a squeeze. "Telling your dad that you left it behind at some old dude's house might not be the best story."

"You are lots of things, Howie, but old ain't among them," she said reassuringly. She put it on her head and damn, it looked amazing with the light dress.

"Thanks," I snorted. "Can I offer you another White Claw while you are here? I was just going to have another beer."

"I need to say no," Stephanie said, "but I'm going to say yes... to celebrate!"

"Of course," I smiled. "I think I have more flavors inside in the kitchen fridge, along with better quality beer for me," I said, turning toward the house. She flowed into step right beside me. I could almost feel her hip swaying against mine as we walked. Almost. Not quite.

It would be easy to let my arm wrap around her waist. It would be just companionable, right?

And I did want to fuck this girl. Right?

Right. I absolutely did.

But whatever level my ethics, to the extent they still existed, had fallen to, I wasn't going to make a move on her. I wasn't that guy. She was still 25 years younger than me.

There were fewer White Claws in my inside fridge that I had thought. (That required some investigation...) But there was a Black Cherry. And a decent spring lager for me.

"Awww, my favorite, Howie!" Stephanie giggled. She opened the black cherry herself somehow, and tilted her head back for a long pull. Her sleek throat bent back openly before me. I wanted to lean in and just... bite it.

I smiled and took a sip of my beer.

Stephanie lowered her chin and then wiped her lips with her finger tips. And she smiled at me.

"All's well that ends well, right?" I said mildly. I wanted to say lots of other things. But I didn't.

Stephanie looked at me for a long moment. Then she heaved a tired sigh.

"Oh, Howie. You are going to make me do this, aren't you?"

"What? I'm... I'm not going..." I stuttered, very confused. What did she think I was?

She crossed her arms under her chest, pressing the lovely mounds upward. It was a sight that was quite distracting at a moment when I was trying to decipher her words.

"Of course you wouldn't make me do anything, Howie," she snorted. "In addition to being handsome, and sweet, and funny, and so damned considerate to everybody, you are utterly, totally, annoyingly a gentleman! You think I'm hot. Hotter than a lot of people think I am. I see you watching me. You are totally, gratifyingly appreciative, but you somehow manage not to be at all creepy about it!" She looked like she was going to stamp her foot, but stopped herself. "I put myself within your reach over and over again, but you won't so much as accidentally touch me, much less cop a damned feel."

She put her hands on her hips and stared at me almost irritably. "I started flirting with you because, well, I flirt with most handsome guys. It's fun. But you've been making it so very fun. The way you look at me, hungry but satisfied with what I'm doing..." She smiled for a second, puckishly. "It's even been fun goading a bunch of other girls into flirting with you."

"You were goading them?" I asked with a neutral smile.

"Sure! Don't tell me that you haven't noticed the way, every time I come over to chat, one of them feels like she has to come over afterward and give you some attention too?"

"I... I hadn't thought of it that way, but maybe you are right..." I said noncommittally.

"You're welcome," Stephanie said, openly flirtatious again. "You've got some fans in your daughter's best friends."

I thought of how she knew everybody's dietary choices, despite barely seeming to know half of the kids who came over. This was a very observant young woman.

Then she softly laid the palm of her hand on the center of my chest. "And you've got a fan in me," she added softly. Her hand trembled as it rested on my chest.

"You have a fan in me, too, Stephanie," I said, unable to not sound a little enthusiastic. I would not, must not, push this girl.

"Thank you. But what I want, for right now, is a fan in me," she said, leaning in close to me. "May I kiss you, Howie?"

"Please," was all I could say, in a throaty, husky voice.

Leaving her hand in the center of my chest, she pressed her body against mine, the soft curves of her breasts mashing against me to either side of her hand. Her other hand snaked up and around the back of my head as I leaned down toward her upturned, radiant face. My hands involuntarily came to rest gently upon her waist, feeling the light fabric of her dress moving over her slender but obviously powerful core as our lips met.

It was a gentle kiss to start, just a brushing of lips, an exploration, a feeling out. But as her body molded itself tighter against mine, I let my lips part, and she instantly found the gap with her tongue hungrily. I may have groaned a little bit at that, which only encouraged her more.

A promising situation had just morphed into a certainty. Was I really going to do this with yet another young woman my daughter's age? The way I had worded the question in my mind was answer in and of itself.

And this gorgeous armful was different. She was not one of Becca's close friends. I did not have a long relationship with her of a near-fatherly nature. I felt none of the panic I had with any of the hellions. But I still felt guilty... a little. A co-ed like this should be dating jocks or geniuses at her school, not making it a summer-long project to hook up with broken down old middle managers like me.

I was going to take what was being offered, though. Yes, indeed.

Our tongues were now fully enmeshed, her fingers rippled through my hair, and I felt her hand against my chest slip lower, bit by bit.

I slid my own hands on the tops of her waist down and back around to cup her ass. What a tight, petite, shivering set of cheeks. Better, through the fabric of her dress, I could easily tell that she had omitted any underwear when she ditched her bikini for the dress. Now she was the one murmuring appreciatively.

How far was this going to go? The phrase, '...what I want, for right now, is a fan in me,' seemed to hold a lot of promise. What held even more promise was the way her hand between us slid even further down and hooked its fingers into the front waistband of my trunks. I never actually go into the pool on hangout afternoons, so I don't usually bother with the drawstring. The elastic is always enough to keep them up when I'm just walking around.

Stephanie tugged the front outward, then worked my trunks down with just the one hand, jumping just the tiniest bit as it brushed against the eager hard-on she was releasing. She pushed the trunks down until they started sliding on their own, and returned her hand to my waist to lightly stroke that freed erection. It was only for a moment, before she stroked my ass lightly in turn, then raised the hand up to clasp the back of my head along with her first.

I squeezed my knees together and let the trunks drop to my ankles. As I stepped out of them, I began to bunch up the fabric of her dress under my hands on her backside. With each flex of my fingers, the back hem of the sundress rose a few inches. With my face still plastered eagerly against Stephanie's I could not see it, but my mind gave a vivid picture of the fabric slowly retreating upward, showing more and more of those tight, richly tanned thighs until the curve of that butt came into my mental view.

My fingertips, after the latest gather, stroked smooth flesh, and the knuckles of my grasping hands rested on bare ass, meaning my vision had come true. I squeezed the bunched up fabric over into a single hand, so the freed one could stroke, squeeze, and explore that bare, perfect bum. Stephanie flexed her glutes for me and murmured a soft, "Oh, yeah..." around my probing tongue.

In a flash, her hands released my head and slid to her own shoulders. She flipped the narrow straps off her shoulders and worked the elastic bodice down. She leaned back to allowed that to happen freely. It cost me the kiss, but gave me a great view downward as those dreamy tits emerged into view. They were full, firm, and had the most arresting tanlines, with dark swathes along the outer edges of each breast, and creamy pale triangles of skin centered on fantastic nipples.

They were indeed tiny, as I had learned from the freezer incident, and were again hard as pebbles. They, and the small, oblong aureoles that extended but a little around those small nipples, were a most striking rosy pink. In that brief flash she had granted me, my mind had only enough time to register greatness. Now I could catalogue the details. The dress slumped down to her waist, and I realized that only my hands on her ass were keeping it up. I released my grip gently, allowing the garment to cascade off her body, down her legs, to puddle on the floor around her ankles.

We were both naked as the day we were born.

I felt like a homunculus, what with my desperately kept in shape dad-bod, standing there in front of this vision of feminine perfection.

She looked around the room eagerly, and her eyes fell on my kitchen table. The same one I'd fucked Monica on quite recently. Looked like that sturdy table was going to turn out to have been a great investment.

But as she took a single step toward it, I flashed back to the angry fantasies I'd entertained about Stephanie, back in the spring before the eventful cruise. How I had really not liked her at the time. I didn't want those nasty images crossing my brain when I was actually with this special girl. Instead, I swept her up in my arms. She whooped in surprise. I turned and carried her out of the kitchen and toward my bedroom.

As she spied my large king-sized bed through the open door as we approached, she essayed one last flirt. "Why Howie! Your bedroom? What do you intend to do with me?"

I paused and smiled at her. "I apologize. I should not presume. Should I put you down?" I let my smile become challenging.

"If you don't carry me in there right now, I'll hit you," she growled happily.

"Well, I wouldn't want that..."

I carefully swept her through the doorway, remembering a time, early after we had bought this house, that I had carried Rebecca through this door on a playful evening... and banged her head on the frame. I made sure that Stephanie's noggin was unharmed.

I stepped to the side of the bed, then dropped her playfully the foot or so down to the comforter atop the mattress. She whooped again as she bounced on the bed. She popped up instantly, spinning to sit on the side and her hands snaked out to softly grasp my cock. I bent to kiss her again, and I reached out and cupped those breasts. They filled my hands firmly and I massaged softly, reveling at the touch of her fingers as they explored my cock.

Then I bent further, taking first one insanely hard, tiny nipple between my lips, then the other. My tongue flicked over those lovely protuberances as I kept massaging the curves they rested atop.

"Stand back up, Howie, so I can..." Stephanie breathed gruffly.

"No, no, no. No, no. No," I interrupted her. "Not yet, please."

Instead, I started kissing my way down her flat, strong stomach, kneeling as I went lower. I lavished my tongue around and deep into her slightly off-center navel. I remembered thinking early on after meeting her that the minor imperfection of its placement slightly to the left of center made the rest of her look just more amazing.

"Oh wow..." Stephanie breathed. She spread her legs slightly in anticipation.

Good girl.

Kneeling back fully on the floor now, between those spread legs, I let my eyes run down from her already flushed face, over those killer tits, and down to a completely shaven pussy, framed by perfect, outstretched legs and already visibly glistening sex. So of course, I dove in swiftly to kiss the inside of one knee.

She trembled as I began, as slowly as I could, to kiss my way up the inside of her leg. Stephanie trembled a lot, I observed. As I worked my lips up her inner thigh, the fingers of my off hand also traced their way up the opposite beautiful side, moving just slightly further ahead. As my face neared the destination, and I began to breathe in her heady aroma, my fingertips reached her slit. I just let the back of my index finger stroke up and down along her opening, an opening that felt like the entrance to a damp furnace.

With my face nestling in the soft crook of her leg and abdomen, I licked the skin there softly. I rolled my caressing finger over and oh so gently tugged at the opposite side of her opening, parting the lips just a hair. I turned my head and rested my tongue gently along that gap. The sound I got from Stephanie was truly gratifying. I worked my tongue up and down, and brought a second finger into play to spread her further apart for my tasting pleasure. I pressed deep into her, feeling her warm surroundings envelop my tongue.

Of course she tasted marvelous. How could it have been otherwise?

I let myself linger with my tongue in her depths, writhing inside her and making her moan. But at last, I drew it loose and slid upward, questing for her clit. It was there, and an explosive hiss from Stephanie expressed her appreciation for my finally getting my mangy ass around to attending to it.

I didn't lash at it. Instead I merely let my tongue slip slowly around its smallish contours, enjoying how firm it, like her nipples, became with arousal. Meanwhile, I let my two spreading fingers press together and delve inside her themselves, sliding with some difficulty into her tight confines. I stroked them in and out of her softly. I kept the pads of my fingers facing the front of her cavity, and when her body writhed in fresh reaction, I knew I had found exactly the right spot in her exact right spot. I pressed gently, and hummed around her bump.

It didn't take long.

Stephanie began repeating, "Oh shit," over and over again, in varying registers, and at varying speed and volume, but generally getting faster and louder as I kept humming. I quickened the pace of my massage inside her and after a moment, flicked her bud with my tongue rapidly. The last, profanity-laden groan from her trailed off slowly as her body tensed one last time and collapsed back onto my bed. The tension left her legs as well. I wanted to drive her over the edge once more, but she was just so erotically relaxed, I simply rose to stare down at her in appreciation of her magnificence.