More than Mr. Mom

Kate swung her open hand at her oldest daughter. I saw it coming but couldn't do anything to stop it. Out of nowhere, Karla's maternal grandfather reached out and clamped his hand around Kate's wrist. "You will never hit my granddaughter!" George ordered.

George stepped up to me and asked, "You're not Karla's biological father?"

I shook my head and told him, "I'm not."

"How long have you known?" He wanted to know.

"Not long."

He moved slightly and crouched, so he was looking Karla in the eyes. It took George a moment to gather his thoughts, before he said, "If things hadn't happened, exactly as they have, I wouldn't have three perfect granddaughters. You and your sisters are perfect, in large part, because of the man with his hand on your shoulder. Your Dad!"

Tears were running down Georges cheek, as he continued, "Your grandmother and I ... both grandmothers and grandfathers wish you hadn't been hurt like this, but know that we love you and are incredibly proud of the young woman you've become." George leaned in and kissed Karla's cheek.

George kissed Kileigh and Kara. He turned to me, wrapped his arms around me and sadly whispered, "I don't know what I've done wrong to deserve three sluts as daughters."

He kissed my cheek and turned toward my Dad. George stood tall and squared his shoulders. Looking at my Dad he said, "I'm sorry that my family has caused your family such pain and heartache. I'll be forever ashamed."

George reached out for his wife Ann's hand and slowly guided her toward the exit. The crowd parted to let the elderly couple escape.

I was incredibly proud of Karla, when she linked arms with her sisters and called out, "Wait up Grandma and Grandpa. You promised me a celebration dinner."

As they passed my folks, Kileigh said, "You better believe you're coming too!" She reached out for my mother's hand and practically pulled her along.

My Dad gave me a quick look. I smiled, winked and mouthed, "Enjoy!"

Kate and I, along with her older sisters Mickie and Jan watched as both sets of grandparents and three granddaughters walked to the lobby exit. Kate turned and asked, "Can we go somewhere private and talk?" Her eyes were wet and she was on the verge of crying.

I considered Kate's request for half a second before shaking my head. "No thanks Kate. There's nothing I need to talk to you about."

As I turned and started to walk through the crowd of gawkers, Kate cried out, "Please Chris. We have to make this right."

==============

At age fifty two, I was semi-retired. The house flipping industry was saturated with wanna-be's and weekend warriors who were convinced that anyone could make money renovating a house for profit.

I had made additional changes in the direction of my business. I helped establish a real estate fund that invested in old, out-of-date retail strip malls. Our group would buy old properties, often with substantial tax benefits from the town and State. We would renovate and update the property and lease the units.

I found that I could find new projects and oversee the renovations, just using my laptop and a cell phone and as a result, could work from anywhere in the world. The previous summer, I had purchased a small motor home and drove to Tennessee. I spent five weeks working for a few hours each morning and hiking the Blue Ridge Mountains every afternoon.

I lost almost thirty pounds, while hiking nearly three hundred miles. I ate fish that I caught in nearby rivers and streams and lived a relatively simple life.

The following spring, on a Wednesday afternoon, I was feeling restless. I was sitting in my home office and was bored. Without thinking about the possible consequences, I left the office, went into my barn and hitched my Jeep Wrangler to the back of the motor home. After packing clothes for a few days, I pointed the RV to the west and started the two hour drive to my daughter Kileigh's home.

I arrived in the small town in Westchester County, NY, that Kileigh and her family had chosen to live. I pulled the camper into the driveway and unhooked the Jeep. By three in the afternoon, I had hooked up water and electricity and was sitting in a camp chair, in the driveway, enjoying a book.

It was a short twenty minutes later that a school bus stopped two houses away from my daughter's home. Five young children got off the school bus and I watched as recognition came to my grandson.

He hollered, "Pops! It's me! Bryce!"

I yelled back, "Bryce! It's me! Pops!"

Bryce ran across the two lawns and into my outstretched arms. We talked for a few minutes, before I asked the six year old, "Do you want to play catch?"

He agreed, as he ran to the garage, used the remote access keypad to open the door and got his baseball glove.

We had just set ourselves up on the front lawn and had made a few throws, when a local police car pulled up to the curb in front of the house. A short few seconds later, a second police car pulled up, from the opposite direction.

Two police officers got out of the first car and a third got out of the second patrol car. Although I was concerned, I was fairly sure that someone asked the police to investigate the strange old man playing with Bryce.

I crouched next to Bryce, pointed at the solo police officer and said in a voice loud enough for all the police officers to hear, "Bryce, I want you to go over to that police officer and say 'Hi. I'm Bryce. How can I help you?'"

I pointed at the two other officers and said, "I'm going to walk to those police officers and say, 'Hi. I'm Pops. I'm Bryce's grandfather. How can I help you?'"

You could see the police officers slightly relaxing when I swatted Bryce on the butt and he jogged over to the policeman. I couldn't hear what Bryce was saying, but responded in kind, when Bryce gave me a thumbs up sign.

I walked over to the other two officers. One was an older woman with sergeant stripes on her uniform. The other officer looked much too young to be a police officer. .

As I approached the two, I introduced myself. The young officer said, "Your grandson's after school babysitter is a neighbor. She gave us a call, when she saw Bryce playing with you. Apparently, she's never met you and was nervous when he didn't come to her house."

When the officer finished, Bryce and the third policeman joined our group. I asked Bryce, "Where do you usually go when you get off the school bus?"

Bryce pointed down the street. There was an elderly woman standing on her front step and looking in our direction. Bryce said, "I go to Mrs. Walsh's house. She takes care of me, until Mom gets home."

At that moment, Kileigh's SUV sped into her driveway and screeched to a halt. She jumped from her car. She was anxious, but relief was spreading across her face. Kileigh said to us, "Things always get excited when Pops Harrington comes to town."

Things cleared up fairly quickly after Kileigh's arrival. As she talked to the younger police officers, the sergeant asked me, "How do you like your motor home?"

I told her, "I've only had it for a year. I explored the Blue Ridge Mountains in Tennessee last summer and loved the vacation. This summer, I'm going to head west and hike the Rocky Mountains for a month or so."

The sergeant admitted, "I'm retiring in two months and have been considering "getting lost" for a year, while exploring all the places that I'd like to see."

Epilog:

It was a very hot day, even seventy-five hundred feet up Patterson Peak. I was shoulder deep in the water of a small lake, nestled in the southern Rocky Mountains.

Sergeant Lydia Wilson was as naked as I was. Her hands were wrapped around my neck and her long athletic legs held firm to my waist. My cock was buried in her tight wet pussy.

My hands held her two round ass cheeks and together, we lifted Lydia and let her drop, over and over, onto my rock hard cock.

After meeting at Kileigh's home, Lydia and I got together for a drink a couple of nights later. Our excuse was to talk about RV living, but we spent a good deal of time sharing our lives stories. We met in New York City for dinner and a Broadway show the following weekend.

By the time Lydia officially retired, we were getting together on Friday nights and spending our weekends together. No one was surprised, when I headed to Colorado with Lydia as my copilot.

Notes:

Congratulations to TheKrrak - In your comment at the end of chapter 1, you were the first to guess the premise to this chapter.

As I wrote chapter 1, I debated whether Chris should have sex with Mickie and Jan (the slutty aunts), after they were married. Based on the many comments that the MC (and by extension the author) is a POS for including those sex scenes, I admit it was a mistake.

I am considering a Chapter 3 - from Kate's perspective, but I am hesitant. The only story line I can come up with is - "I watched my sisters go to their staterooms with different men every night and wanted to give it a try." It seems dumb. However, as many have pointed out in the comment section, this is a porn site and my most recent posts have had very little sex. What to do?