Heartbreakers Ch. 03

"Your dad has a giant cucumber on his lap." Mindy commented, as she scrolled through the pictures on Shelly's phone the next morning.

"Tell me about it." Shelly commented, stopping to wait for a light.

This was Tuesday, Day Four. The girls were on their usual drive to school. To either side of the street, alumni glanced at the silver car and at the two pretty blondes sitting in it. A lot of those students knew who they were.

"That's when it wasn't hard anymore." Shelly added, just as the light turned green and she surged the car forward. "It was the size of a telephone pole when it was hard.

"I don't think I want to fuck your dad anymore." Mindy said.

"Neither do I! My mom can have him all to herself."

Shelly drove into the school parking lot, frowning when she saw that all of the good spots up front were already taken. It was her fault, though, for having gotten up so late. She ended up having to park in the boonies.

"You could have dropped me off at the front of the school, before you decided to park the fuck way out here." Mindy complained. "Look how far we have to walk now!"

"Kiss my ass!" Shelly shot back. "If I have to walk a half a mile to get to first period, so do you. I can barely walk as it is!"

Just then, a familiar Honda pulled up behind them and started blasting its horn.

Both Mindy and Shelly turned to look at it, spotting Heather leaning out the passenger window and giving them double middle fingers.

"You took our spot, you horny bitches!" Heather called out, before the Honda moved on and found its own place to park.

"I guess Haley's back." Mindy commented, as the two unbuckled their belts and made their exit.

"Did you see who was in the back seat?"

"No, who was it?"

"I don't know, I just know somebody was back there."

The two Wannabes, Amy and Rochelle, were seen stepping out of the Honda and tagging along with Haley and Heather.

Heather pointed at Shelly. "You bitch! Tell me you didn't score before I did! I so hate you right now!"

Since Mindy was still holding Shelly's phone, she passed it over so Heather could get a look at her pictures.

"Now, that's what I call a dick." Heather commented, before she passed the phone to Haley.

"Whoa!" Haley said, before she gave the phone back. "I think I'm traumatized now."

"So, how was it?" Heather prodded Shelly. "He looks like he had a good time."

"It was painful." Shelly admitted. "I'm not doing it again."

Mindy motioned at the two newcomers. "What's the story with them?"

"They're with me." Heather said, proudly. "They're going to help me show my daddy a good time tonight. They're both up to speed and they can both be trusted, otherwise they wouldn't be here."

"You told them about the Challenge?" Mindy asked.

"I did, but trust me, they aren't going to say a thing about it because I've got the goods on both of them. They stand to lose just as much as any of us do, if the details of the Challenge ever get leaked. Isn't that right, girls?"

Both Amy and Rochelle nodded back.

"See?" Heather confirmed.

Mindy didn't trust either of the newcomers, but at the moment, she was more concerned about their one and only renegade. "Haley, are you in?"

"Maybe."

"She is." Heather spoke up for her. "She just doesn't want people to know yet. It's a little personal for some of us, okay?"

"We've got five minutes before first bell." Haley informed the bunch.

"Let's take our walk." Mindy directed.

They moved in a small troop, with Mindy and Shelly up front, Haley and Heather next, and the two newbies bringing up the rear. Anybody who was keeping track of the goings-on in the high-end social cliques noticed that there were now six Heartbreakers instead of four. That was enough to keep tongues wagging throughout the entire school day.

PREDATORS ON THE PROWL, BITCHES. TONIGHT'S SPECIAL: THREE FOR ONE DEAL. DON'T HATE, PARTICIPATE!

Tom grimaced as he pulled up to the stop sign. The brakes were squealing again. That meant he had to take his truck into the shop to get them checked. Maybe they'd last a little longer if his wife didn't always drive with one foot on the brake pedal and the other on the accelerator, effectively wearing the brakes out whenever the truck was in motion.

Women, you can't live with them... and you can't live with them.

Tom chuckled at his own goofy wit. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't had been with Jenny. They'd been high school sweethearts, what was it, two decades ago? He married Jenny right after they'd both graduated, and he'd been with her ever since. He couldn't believe how long she'd stuck with his sorry ass, even through his four years in the army.

Of course, it hadn't all been roses and champagne. (Actually, there had never been much of that stuff at all. They'd just never had that kind of money lying around.) Through the many years they'd been together, they'd had their arguments and their fights, and their brief separations. At the end of the day, Tom and Jenny always seemed to gravitate back toward each other like a pair of magnets. Somehow, their marriage even survived the one time when he caught Jenny screwing around with her old boss.

Maybe Tom was too comfortable with her. Well, he was, no doubt about it. Jenny could probably cheat on him again. Sure he'd have a fit over it at first, and he'd want to knock the man's lights out, but he knew that deep down inside he'd eventually forgive her. He was a modern day dinosaur, a one-woman man.

Not him, though. Tom would never cheat on her. A couple of times he'd been angry enough with Jenny to drive out to a strip bar and ogle the ladies. The result was that he would end up dropping half his wallet into their thongs. One time Tom even went out with a woman from an old job. That lady might have wanted to fool around with him, at least she was flirting with him enough. But no, after comparing what he had at home to what he had sitting next to him, Tom had opted for the latter.

Surely, Jenny deserved better than him. After thirty-eight years of being on Earth, the best Tom could do was to hold down a position as a warehouse manager for a big grocery chain. He oversaw bulk product coming in, was responsible for its packaging and distribution all over the city, and he made sure his work crew was always on the ball. He wasn't above getting his hands dirty, as he occasionally jumped in and helped stock pallets and roll them into trucks. That, more or less, helped him stay in decent shape.

Still, times were tough. The only thing they could really count on was more and more bills in the mailbox. That's why Jenny ended up having to work nights, as a cocktail waitress at the local casino no less. Tom cringed at the thought of Jenny waltzing around in her skimpy server outfit, where every jerk in the world could stare at her ass, and maybe even cop a feel every once in a while. Sometimes, he wondered if Jenny would let a man touch her this way, if she thought she might get a bigger tip out of it.

Tom shook his head to drive such thoughts away. The tired man focused his attention on the long street ahead of him. He had just dropped his wife off at her job, and now he was cruising down his block and nearing home. Tom was hoping to get a few hours of sleep before Jenny got out in the morning. He knew he had plenty of time for that, as she was scheduled for the 9 to 5 overnight shift.

As Tom maneuvered the truck onto his driveway, he noticed that the lights were on in his living room. Even from where he sat he could hear the steady thump of club music. The puzzled man checked his watch. It was past nine now and it was a school night. Whoever had the stereo turned on was about to be booted off to bed.

The tired man strolled across the yard and toward his front door, noting that with the single exception of his house, the rest of the neighborhood looked to already be asleep. His house had both a security door and a regular door. While Tom unlocked the first door, through the crack in the second he observed a few forms in the living room dancing around.

He was mildly surprised when he discovered his daughter Heather and two other girls gyrating their hips and swaying around in the living room. One was dressed like a schoolgirl, with a white, long-sleeve shirt and a red and black plaid skirt. This girl was blonde. Tom had to admit that she was very pretty, but her pigtails made her look as if she was all of ten years old. The next female was a black girl, very tall and lithe. She looked just as inviting in what looked to be a basketball uniform. Finally, and most disturbing of all, was his daughter Heather, who was wearing a tight blouse that showed off way too much cleavage. The blouse gripped Heather's full breasts like a second layer of skin. His daughter also wore a pair of denim shorts so form-fitting that he wondered how she'd squeezed her big butt into them. Next, Tom noticed several open beer cans sitting carelessly on the lamp stand. He added this revelation to the growing list of infractions he was about to point out to his daughter.

Tom took a single step toward the loud stereo, intending to shut it off, only to see Heather swoop in front of him and cut him off. In an unexpectedly bold move, she actually brushed him back, mainly with her boobs, before she swung her arms around his back and snared him.

"Hi, daddy!" Heather announced, bringing her face close to his.

Her intimate welcome was followed up by a deliberately heavy breath; a breath that reeked of alcohol. Besides that, his daughter's eye make-up and lipstick made her look like a little hussy.

"Where did you get the beer?" Tom said, evenly.

"You'd better not get mad." Heather embraced her dad even tighter. "We're just having a good time here. And you'd better not embarrass me in front of my friends, either."

Tom looked past her at the two other teenage dancers. He had no idea who those girls were. They weren't even paying attention to them, as they were dancing with each other.

He addressed Heather again, but in a low voice. "First of all, you shouldn't be drinking. Second, you have to turn off that music and ask your friends to leave, because it's only Tuesday and you have school tomorrow."

"Dad, you're always telling me what to do, but you might be forgetting that I'm eighteen now." Heather replied. "I can go and do this at somebody else's house, but I'd rather do this here so, you know, you can watch over me. You don't want me drinking beer at somebody else's house, do you?"

"You're not supposed to be drinking at all." Tom answered.

By now, he was starting to get unnerved at his daughter. Not only was Heather still hugging him tightly, but she was beaming her pretty smile at him. The excitable man was starting to have trouble keeping his eyes away from her tits.

Tom started pulling away from her, but she kept her tight hold on him. "You should tell your friends to go. It's a school night. Where's your little brother, anyway?"

"You see that hot blonde? That's Amy. Kevin is staying at her house tonight. It turns out that she has a little brother, too. He's got the same video game console that Kevin does, so Kevin was happy to go over there. I took care of everything, dad, just so I could have this little party with my friends."

"Does your mother know about this?"

Heather giggled. "No! Are you kidding, she won't even let me go out on school nights. That's why my friends are here; they're spending the night with me."

A look of frustration swept across Tom's face.

"Don't you dare tell me that you never broke a rule when you were a teenager!" Heather admonished him.

He sighed. "All right. Fine. Have your little party, but at least turn the music down a little bit. Everybody else on the block is asleep. And no more beer."

"Okay." Heather agreed. "We can do that. Now, go take your shower like you always do and go to bed."

"Are you giving me orders now?" Tom asked her, surprised. "I don't think so!"

"Well, if you don't want to go to sleep, you can always hang out and watch my friends dance." Heather said, finally loosening her hold on him.

"What makes you think I want to watch a bunch of little girls dancing?"

"We're not so little, dad. Now go take your shower. You smell like ass!"

Tom laughed. Thanks to running around so much, he hadn't had a chance to take a shower yet. He probably did smell like ass. And not even thirty minutes after his wife was off at work, here was Heather taking over the house. "All right. I'll go take a shower."

As Heather moved off and joined the other two dancers, Tom slipped out of the living room and down the hall. His cock was aroused and pressing against the front of his pants. While he kept telling himself that it was because of the two cute girls Heather had brought into the house, the reality of it was that Heather's breasts had looked too damned enticing in that tight blouse of hers. He'd have to mention it to Jenny later, to make sure that Heather didn't head off to school wearing something like that.

Tom went into his bedroom long enough to grab a shirt, some boxers and a pair of shorts, before he went into the bathroom. As he showered, he thought back to his own high school glory days, when he was still checking out girls and before he'd been introduced to his future wife. He recalled how his buddies and him would rate the girls on a scale of ten. What would those two beauties in the living room rate, he wondered.

The blonde, Amy, was a visual knockout. She didn't have large breasts, but she was pretty as can be. Tom found himself admiring her petite frame despite her schoolgirl attire. That was an 8, or maybe even a 9.

He didn't even catch the black girl's name, but that didn't keep him from judging her body. She was taller than he was, with a lean, athletic build. Past that, he hadn't been able to tell much other than her basketball uniform was cut a little on the loose side. She had a good pair of tits on her. From what Tom knew about black women, sometimes their tits were much bigger than they looked while they were covered up with clothing. And so many black women had those big, beautifully rounded butts. What was she, a 7? No, that was being too harsh. At least an 8.

Undoubtedly, his old high school chums would say Heather was a 10. She had plenty of T and A to spare, and... Tom caught himself before he went any further. No way he was going to rate his own daughter.

His cock, he noticed, looked like a missile that was ready to launch. He imagined getting out of the shower and heading back into the living room to ask his daughter a very titillating question. "Can I borrow your little blonde friend for a few minutes? I'd like to, uh, talk to her in my bedroom for a few minutes. Well, actually, maybe for a couple of hours."

Wait, Tom thought. He'd never slept with a black woman. He wondered what her butt looked like underneath those shorts. Maybe he'd opt for that one instead.

"Look at me." Tom grinned. "Here I am, nearing forty and already thinking about young women like an old pervert. High school girls, even." His grin faded away, as he remembered his unspectacular lot in life. "Who am I kidding? They wouldn't want anything to do with me, anyway."

What was the saying? Once you hit forty, forget about it. The bar scene is over for you, buster. Well, Tom could still stroke himself off, he decided, as he put his hand on his still hard cock. He gave himself a couple of strokes, in his mind alternating between the blonde girl and the black girl, until he finally centered his fantasies on the basketball player. With a sudden start, he heard the bathroom door being opened. Half a second later, it shut back up again.

"I'm in here!" Tom called out automatically, as he did at any other time this happened.

Crap, he thought. Better finish up with the shower and get out, in case somebody wants to use the crapper. Especially with three teenage girls drinking beer in the living room. Boy, would his wife be mad if she found out what was going on.

Tom twisted the shower knob to stem the flow of water. After peeking around the edge of the shower curtain to make sure the door was indeed shut, he got out and started toweling himself off. On the floor, he spotted a pair of red panties that one of the girls must have dropped when the door opened. It was the tiniest underwear he had ever seen. It looked like a large red rubber band. What the fuck do I do with this, Tom wondered. He wasn't going to pick it up, but he wasn't going to leave it there on the bathroom floor either.

A couple of hard raps on the door startled him.

"Hey, Mr. Tom, can I have my panties back?" He heard from the other side of the door.

"Just a second." Tom replied, as he was still standing there naked.

In a flash, he donned his clothes and straightened up his hair. When he finally cracked the door open, he discovered Amy standing just outside.

"Would you mind telling me how your panties ended up here on the floor?" Tom asked.

"Oh, I was going to try on a pair of Heather's, but Rochelle decided she was going to be funny and she ran off with them. Can I have them back?"

Absently, Tom reached down and picked them up. It wasn't until he was holding them at arm's length that he realized those panties were previously wrapped around the cute blonde's butt.

"Thanks, Mr. Tom." Amy said, right before she retrieved them and strode back down the hall.

Whew, that little girl is hot, Tom thought, as he expelled a quick breath. And she's trying on panties in Heather's room? How I'd like to be a fly on that wall right now. He shook his head. Focus on something beside high school girls, Tom scolded himself, as he stepped out of the bathroom.

That's when he noticed that the door to Heather's room was wide open and the light was off. No way, he thought, no fucking way was Amy trying on panties in the living room. He felt his pulse quicken as he thought of heading over there, with the high hopes of catching a peep of something. Even a glimpse of the blonde's thighs would be enough to send him into the clouds.

Nope, Tom stopped himself. I've gotta go to bed and catch a couple of Zs, and get up early in the morning to pick up Jenny. He frowned, however, at the music still blaring from the stereo. The girls hadn't turned it down yet. That meant he would have to go into the living room after all.

Once there, Tom saw what looked to be every single one of Heather's panties on the lamp stand. Heather and Rochelle were both looking over at Amy, who was going through the pile of undies as if she was thinking about trying half of them on.

"What's going on?" Tom asked, acting dumb.

"Just girl stuff." Heather answered.

"You forgot to turn the stereo down."

"Oh, I guess I did!" Heather went to do this, but she didn't turn it down by much.

Tom frowned. It was still too loud for him to get to sleep, although just thinking about the two hot teens in his living room was probably going to keep him up anyway. He turned to head back to his bedroom.

"Hey dad, we need your opinion on something." Heather came over and snagged his arm.

His busty daughter led him over to the center of the couch and prodded him to have a seat.

"Okay, but it has to be quick, because I'm heading off to bed soon."

Heather motioned to Amy, who held up two pairs of panties.

"The white one or the pink one?" The girl with the pigtails asked, very sweetly.

Tom looked to his daughter uncertainly.

"Just pick one. What color do you like best?"

Tom noticed that Rochelle was taking a long swig on a can of beer. He was about to say something about that, except Amy cut him off.

"Well, which one, Mr. Tom?"

"Uh, the pink one." Tom said.

As he watched, Amy slipped the panties under her feet and slid them up her slender legs. She tugged at the edges until the panties were nice and snug around her, before she stepped up in front of the couch and pulled her skirt up. She did a complete turn in showing off the underwear to him.