Holly Pt. 02

"But, Holly, we - "

"Dad - seriously, not now - hurry up," my stepdaughter said forcefully.

She was right.

My wife would be pulling into the driveway at almost any minute.

"Yeah, okay." I said, turning away and quickly yanking my pants down and off. I pulled the belt out and took my wallet and keys from the pockets.

It felt odd to be standing covered by only my underwear in front of my stepdaughter.

Why, considering, I have no real idea. Other than I suddenly felt completely exposed before her eyes.

And, considering, that makes no sense at all.

The word 'confused' comes nowhere near really defining what I felt.

I looked back over my shoulder at her.

Arms crossed over her big tits she stared at me.

My eyes dropped to her crotch and my cum that darkened the material there, slowly being absorbed into the gray fabric of her sweatpants.

"Dad, please," she said, "go get some pants on."

Nodding and speechless I stepped out of the laundry room and into the hall.

"Everything's okay, dad," Holly said as I took a step away, "Honest...Trust me."

She knew, or seemed to know, my worries.

"Chick..." I said, turning towards her voice.

"I love you, dad," Holly said.

My stepdaughter saying that to me wasn't unusual in any way. As a family we'd always been open about our affection for each other. I loved my wife with everything I had, and I'd come to love my stepdaughter almost immediately after first met her.

And she knew it. I made sure she knew I cared for her.

She'd been a silly, goofy, and intelligent kid who'd grown into a wonderful, silly, goofy and ridiculously smart young woman...

Did I ever say she was beautiful?

"I love you too, chick," I replied from the hall.

"Get some clothes on, dad," she said.

I could almost hear the laughing smile on her face, could almost see her rolling her eyes, in her voice.

I made it to my wife's and my bedroom, and pulled another pair of jeans from the closet. Tugging them on, I heard the washing machine start to fill with water - and realized my stepdaughter had yanked off her sweatpants and tossed them into the machine with mine. I was glad she was like her mother, sensible and efficient.

And, like her mother, a little dirty...

But... Holly had stood, no matter how briefly, in her panties in the laundry room. And honestly, I wished I had been there to see her as she pulled her sweatpants down and off. Saw her as she stood wearing only her panties.

I'm afraid of what I might have done at that moment.

Even after what she and I had just done together, my cock began to swell in the jeans I'd just put on.

I left the bedroom - and heard Holly say, perhaps louder than she needed to, perhaps to let me know her mother was home,

"Hi, mom,"

"Hey chick," I heard my wife's voice answer, "where's your dad?"

"Hey, love," I said as I walked into the kitchen.

"He didn't even know I was home," Holly said to her mother, "Why do you keep him around? He's hopeless. Seriously."

My stepdaughter now wore a pair of cutoffs and a tank top that showed off her big tits even more than the old t-shirt of mine she'd been wearing earlier. Her cleavage was a deep dark valley between her large breasts. I remembered the shorts she wore. I'd held them to my face once, maybe last summer, wondering if my stepdaughter hadn't worn panties that day - the smell of her young crotch so incredibly strong in my nose... the denim pungent, the strong smell of sweaty pussy, piss, and sticky ass...

"How?" my wife said, looking from her daughter to me, smiling, "Did you have your headphones on?"

"No," Holly said, "he just doesn't pay attention."

I looked at my stepdaughter.

"What have you two been up to?" I heard my wife ask, looking past her daughter to me.

"Uh, we- " I began, looking towards her.

"Just hanging out," Holly spoke up.

Looking at me with a sideways glance and a slight grin, she added, "But I told you before, mom, he's kinda boring."

Her mother laughed.

"Whoa, hey, chick," I responded, wanting our banter to sound as normal as always,

"That's not nice. I just don't understand teenage girls - "

"Hmph," my stepdaughter said, grinning at me, "No kidding, dad."

Her eyes told me something else.

And it wasn't about understanding a teenager.

"There's a lot you don't seem to understand..." she said with a laugh, her eyes looking into mine with a deeper meaning than her words suggested.

"Alright you two," Holly's mother said, chuckling, "I'm not getting in the middle of this..."

"Nah, mom," my stepdaughter said to her mother, "It's just between your boring husband and me..."

Both of them laughed.

At me, I guess.

I began to realize and, I think, understand, that the journey my stepdaughter and I were suddenly, surprisingly, on had just started. We were going to travel farther together - although right then I knew no more than that. I'm not sure she did either, other than she seemed to know I'd follow her wherever she led - regardless of the parental concerns I'd throw at her, the ideas of right and wrong that I tried to use to stop her, us, from going down this particular road.

We were going to go further, I came to understand.

It's what she seemed to want.

I also knew that as long as I continued to write, Holly would continue to read.

I honestly wasn't sure that that was a good thing.

But I had things I needed to write about.

And it wasn't about the weather or work or any other mundane day to day stuff that no-one really cared about.

And Holly had told me not to stop writing about her...