Studio Audience Ch. 01

I fumbled for my handkerchief again as the beads of sweat threatened to roll down into my glasses. Cursing to myself as the end of the futon bumped into my shin, I decided that another quick break was in order. The bricks of the dormitory hallway were cool on my back and honestly helped a bit with the ache, as I made myself as thin as possible and let the other dads behind me move through with the unwieldy luggage their own daughters had packed for the new semester. Yet, none of those daughters were to be seen anywhere other than under the old, shady oaks at the edge of the pristinely manicured lawn that stretched away below the fourth floor window I stared out of.

"Kids these days... typical..." I muttered half to myself. One of my fellow luggage-bearers chuckled with me... I guess dad humor really is universal.

The futon still sat at my feet. I don't know why, but I had hoped it would look lighter this time.

It did not.

I sighed and leaned back against the wall, taking my time to catch my breath. This was harder than I expected. Not just the futon. I couldn't believe it was finally happening. Just yesterday... I swear it wasn't more than a year ago... a month?... a week? Rebecca had only just learned to walk herself to school... she couldn't be moving into her freshman dormitory already. But she was. While I don't consider myself a sentimental man, I admit it was getting to me. My handkerchief moved up to mop under my eye... dammit... more sweat... that's definitely all it was...

"Mr. Lewis, honestly! My eyes are up here! Helloooooo!"

Snapping back to reality, my field of view was filled with the university's crest on thin white fabric, pulled taught over a pair of firm, bouncing breasts. I jumped in surprise and cursed as my shin connected with the arm of the futon.

"Dammit Emmy..." I didn't mean it to sound harsh, but she still looked a bit taken aback. "Sorry... just caught thinking about... you know... life..." I ended that lamely and kicked myself internally for it.

"No, no, I'm sorry!! It was a joke... honest!" and she did look sorry... or at least concerned. She helped me down onto the futon, where I rubbed my shin and sat back with a sigh.

"You know, Em, you and Becky really can't be old enough for this whole college thing... maybe you should wait... stay in high school... don't grown up and make us all feel so old..." It was wishful thinking, and I knew that. This is life. This is what happens as time goes on.

Emily laughed as she sat down on the futon next to me, brushing her long auburn hair out of her eyes. She had been best friends with Rebecca for as long as I could remember. Honestly, when my wife, Megan, and I were talking about it on the drive over, we couldn't even agree on when the two of them met. I swear it was in kindergarten, but Megan reminded me that Emily had been a year ahead in school at that time, and they couldn't have met until 2nd grade, when Emily had been held back a year. Megan just had a memory like that. I suppose she was right, but it hardly mattered to me. Emily and Rebecca had been practically joined at the hip since they met, whenever that had been. She was basically family. Perhaps that was partly because her own family was so messed up. Her parents had separated, and she spent her childhood bouncing around between their houses and ours. Meanwhile, Rebecca had always insisted on bringing her over to our house for meals, sleepovers, and occasionally whole weeks at a time whenever Emily's mother or father was dating someone particularly unsavory. She and Rebecca had had their falling outs and reunions over the years, as all teenage girls do, but they never abandoned each other. Now, they had both gotten into the same university -- Megan was ecstatic that it was only a 30-minute drive from our house -- and it looked like they would be inseparable for at least another four years. I knew they were in for a lifetime friendship given how childhood and college friendships tend to go, but I didn't tell them that now. Four years is hard enough for a teenager to grasp, let alone a lifetime. At the little sendoff party we had thrown for Rebecca and Emily, she had stopped to tell Megan and me how much our family and house meant to her. It was sweet, and Megan had cried as they hugged... I'll admit my own eyes were a bit damp as well.

Here we sat. On the cheapest Walmart futon I could convince Rebecca to try. While I prided myself on my fitness, taking care to run and lift regularly, it was certainly a fact that I wasn't as young as I once was. My 40th birthday was looming at the end of the month, and I was dreading it more than I would care to admit. My back was killing me, and my muscles were strained and aching. I groaned at the thought of the boxes still waiting in the car, drawing a laugh from Emily.

"You kids sure do have a lot of stuff these days..." I grumbled as I prepared to stand up again.

She laughed. "I'll help you with this one at least, Mr. Lewis. Come on."

Together, we managed to get it through the doorway of Rebecca's tiny room along with the TV, her bedding, and two suitcases full of clothes. By the end of the project, I had given up on keeping my glasses dry, and my t-shirt had fully adhered to my abs and my chest, a full two shades darker than when I had started. Emily leaned against the wall with me, breathing just as heavily, and passed me a water bottle. I tried to keep my eyes front and center as I drained half of it, but it was difficult. It seemed the other dads had managed to rope their daughters into helping. One after another, an endless parade of freshman girls, all in tiny workout shorts and tight tank-tops, some simply in sports bras, waltzed past carrying this box or that suitcase. I was trying as hard as possible to give them no notice, painfully aware of the basketball shorts I was wearing myself, not wanting to cause a scene before my daughter's first day of college had even started. I forced myself to avoid staring at the toned young woman who pranced past me, almost like she was trying to flaunt her ass in a particularly short pair of shorts, bouncing her large breasts in a tight, neon pink sports bra. My attention was instead turned to my phone, the unread texts to my daughter taunting me.

"Seriously, Em... you should give Becky a call... It's not right to be helping this much while she's MIA..."

She sighed and glanced at her own phone. "She said Mrs. Lewis was taking her to the bookstore... I guess they got held up... jesus christ, pass me that water again..."

She let her head rest back on the wall as she took a gulp, but the bottom of the bottle slipped, emptying its contents all over her collarbone. She choked and sputtered, her hand coming up to try to salvage whatever she could of her bottle, but then she looked up at my slack jaw and wide eyes and burst out laughing.

"Mr Lewis! SERIOUSLY!! oh my god you should really see your face!!" Her laughter brought on another bout of coughing, and she doubled over, emitting the strange and painful combination of both sounds. In her distress, the remainder of the water bottle crumpled in her hand, spurting what water was left directly up into her eyes. The whole situation would have been laughable, but my attention had been fully captivated by the rivulets of water running down her thin white t-shirt, clinging to her skin, and revealing, admittedly to my surprise, that her breasts were not supported by any sort of bra under the oversized, cropped university tee that hung from her shoulders.

Maybe I was just naïve, maybe I had been actively repressing the thought as we labored under Rebecca's possessions, but I was suddenly faced with two perfectly round, bouncing, visible breasts directly under my nose. To make matters worse, Emily instinctively reached for the hem of her shirt to wipe away the water that stung her eyes. Her hands seemed to move in slow motion, as she gripped, pulled, lifted, and finally drew the edge of her shirt up to her eyes. The fabric clung to her soaked skin for half an instant, as if trying to shield her from my gaze. Inevitably, however, it was forced up and off her smooth skin, shining dully in the light from the window. The crease of fabric continued to rise until stopping just under the dark circle that clung to her near-transparent shirt and marked the location of her nipple. I stood transfixed by the pale underside of her right breast as she used the fabric to relieve her soaked eyes, only to look up, mortified, and lock eyes with her. The silence was so thick you could hear it drumming in the hallway.

"um... Mr. Lewis... I..." she was as embarrassed as I was. I needed to save both of us from this situation as quickly as I could, but my throat was dry and my brain had forgotten every basic language skill.

My phone rang. We both let out a breath. The hallway was once again alive with the sounds of freshmen and their families milling about. I turned away to take the call.

"Hi dadddyyyy...." Rebecca's tone told me she knew she was in trouble. "Sooooooo, mom and I just finished at the bookstore... um... seriously daddy, the LINES... so... I'll head over to Cassidy and help you and Em with the stuff? ... um ... you're still there I hope?"

I sighed. "Yeah... still here... most of your stuff is up already, baby girl... Em was really a champ... yeah, just come on over and you can get whatever is left."

I hung up but stayed looking at my screen for another minute or two, pretending to do anything other than running over the options of how to turn around and face Emily, who had practically entered a wet t-shirt contest. In the end, I didn't need to worry, as she came around the corner from the opposite direction already covered by one of Rebecca's old hoodies.

I looked up and started "I-"

"I... um... was cold and needed a sweater..." Emily looked at me for confirmation of the story.

"Right. Yeah. This dorm A/C..." We both nodded. That was that.

Back at the entrance to Cassidy Hall, Emily and I sat on a bench waiting for Rebecca and my wife to make it over from the bookstore. I could tell that, despite the story we'd agreed to, Emily was glad of the warm sunlight after so much cold water all over her. My mind wandered to how that water had dripped down her collarbone... down the hollow between her breasts... clung to her nippl-

"So. Em." I needed to snap myself out of it. "You're not in Cassidy... What dorm will you be in? When are you moving in? You should really strand Rebecca with your shit -- er -- stuff after all this."

"Oh..." she actually looked a bit taken aback. "I... um... well I'm not staying in the dorms, Mr. Lewis... um... well I'm staying with my mom... I... the dorms are really expensive... so..."

"Oh!" Of course. I hadn't pieced it together. Idiot me. "Yeah... that makes sense... ah yeah... very sensible really... with what they charge here, that's a good idea. We tried to get Becky to stay at home... well Megan -- er -- Mrs. Lewis -- tried. Even just moving into my library or something to shake it up... um... yeah..."

Of course that wasn't the reason. I just offered her a way out. Emily's mom was a bitch. I wish there was a nicer way of putting it. Throughout her childhood, Emily had always come second to whatever deadbeat her mom brough home that week, and the kid was smart enough to know it. Part of me wished that I had known earlier, that there had been some way to help out, but Rebecca's college was going to be expensive enough without taking on any part of her friend's living expenses. Besides, after the incident in the hallway, it was probably for the best that Emily had some distance from at least myself and Megan for a little bit.

"So... does that mean she didn't...?" I snapped back as Emily spoke up. "Did Becky ask you abou-"

"We're HERE... UGH... daddy you would not BELIEVE... oh hi Em!!" Rebecca bounded over the hedges separating us while Megan made her way around the corner of the sidewalk, laden as she was with bags of books and new college merchandise. I ran to help her and could see the look behind her eyes.

"You're a champ, babe" I whispered as I gave her a kiss on both cheeks, bringing a weary smile to her lips. She was nearly as soaked as I was, and I let her catch a glimpse of me checking her out as she handed me the bags. Her large breasts were straining against the blouse she was wearing, and her own shorts were doing wonders for her slim waist and curvy ass. I shot her a wink that drew a soft giggle and a deeper kiss from the love of my life. As always, I was tempted to kiss her back, harder and deeper, but -

"oh my god NO I totally forgot! Fuck!!" I whirled to correct Rebecca's language on instinct, but I saw her assume the daddy-I-need-something pose before I could say a word. One leg in front of the other, one hand gripping the opposite wrist behind her back, her shoulders forward. Megan and I both sighed. Emily was standing behind her, her head shyly cocked to one side, avoiding eye contact with either me or my wife.

"sooooo... daddy.... you know how you always say... you know... how you want to try some new hobbies..."

"Yeah..." I was guarded, not knowing where this was going.

"aaaaaannnnd... that you probably need to stop reading so much anyway... your eyes are so tired all the time.... "

"Becky," I sighed, "get to it please."

"okay okay okay, and you always talk about how awful Em's mom is... and how she really shouldn't be around her!"

"Beck-" this caught me by surprise. "That. um. That was a personal conversation." It had been a drunken comment a few months ago, to be perfectly honest. "Em, I don't mean to be rude to your mom, you know that..."

"No no, Mr. Lewis, it's fine!" Emily jumped in. "Really... I mean... I kind of -- well I really -- agree... What Becky is trying to ask... is ... I mean ... if it isn't too much trouble ... and I'll pay rent! ... you'll hardly know I'm there, I promise!"

It clicked in my head. Our house had an old, built-on guest room -- well more of a studio apartment really -- with its own full bathroom and kitchenet. When we moved in, I'd converted the room into my library. Megan was always working in the city, and I had to read and write long hours for my research, so she let me have it. It was kind of my refuge over the years, and I felt my breath catch. It made sense. It really did. But it was my space.

I felt a hand on my upper arm.

"Of course we'd love to have you, dear!" Megan had jumped in, and the look she shot me forestalled any disagreement. "We'll work out the details over dinner. You can buy Jon a drink to make up for taking his favorite room."

Over the next week, the arrangements were all made. I cleared out bookshelves of my favorite works, took over Rebecca's old room, which was thankfully just through the connecting door, and made the space more or less livable. Emily and Megan had come to an agreement on rent based on the average for the surrounding area, plus a bit of a family discount. Most importantly, the three of us had agreed on some basic rules for the house, including no parties, no strangers coming over without our permission, and no loud noise or music after 11:00pm. Emily gradually moved her stuff in, and I was a bit taken aback to realize that all of her possessions took up less space than my books. All in all, I was glad that we could help her out, and any qualms I had were thoroughly erased when the first rent check came through the day before she officially got the keys.

After everything was settled and moved, we had Emily and Rebecca join us for a final pre-college meal. Megan was trying her best to keep it together as we set the table, and I was forcing myself to not think about how old our daughter had gotten. The doorbell brought us back to the present moment, we locked eyes, smiled at each other, and put on our best air of beaming pride and cheerfulness before opening the door. Rebecca pranced in as she always did, giving me a hug before commenting to her mom how weird it was to use the doorbell. But my attention was riveted on Emily. She hung back almost shyly, dressed in a tight black dress with a neckline that plunged down past the bottom curve of her firm breasts and a hem that failed to cover the curve of her small, round ass.

"um... hi Mr. Lewis... I... sorry... Becky told me this was a more... uh... formal kind of thing..." The poor girl did look embarrassed, and I forced myself to be at ease.

"Yes! Ah sorry about that, Em! We must have gotten some wires crossed! Come on in, you look... great!" Maybe I overplayed it. I really should have a word with Rebecca about dressing for different occasions, but that would wait until after dinner. I held the door for Emily as she smiled and walked in. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't help but let my eyes drift downward and take in the movement of her buttocks under that tight dress with every step further into my home. I could already feel my cock growing in my pants, but I tried as hard as I could to think of anything other than my daughter's best friend.

It was almost like so many nights in the past, but tonight Megan had talked me into opening a few bottles of wine as well. It was a momentous night after all. The new semester began the next day, it was Rebecca's first dinner with us while she lived in the dorms, it was the first time she and Emily were "guests," and Emily was officially getting the keys to the newly-minted studio apartment. As the wine bottles emptied, I was proud to see Rebecca keep from getting too drunk -- that would serve her well in college parties -- and I told her as much, right after telling her off for misleading Emily on dress codes, to the visible embarrassment of both girls. Emily was quieter, but she laughed and joked occasionally. I hoped that the dynamic between us all wouldn't with the move. Try as I might, I kept stealing glances at her firm chest pressed up inside that tight dress. It was wrong, and I knew that, but the way she moved every time she laughed, and the way it almost seemed like she was pushing her chest forward each time she leaned back in the chair was entirely too much. It may have been my imagination, but at least twice it seemed to me that she nearly caught my gaze as I glanced away, only to imperceptibly squeeze her breasts further forward between her arms. That day in Rebecca's dormitory flashed before my eyes yet again, and I imagined the smooth underside of Emily's breasts tucked away inside her dress. As the night wound down, I leaned over her to pour the last of the third bottle of wine, and I could swear that I felt her gently rest back against my chest, her breast brushing against my arm. My breath caught. Then it was over. Megan and Rebecca hadn't broken their conversation. I was sure I'd imagined it. I internally accused myself of being a dirty old man, resolving to cut myself off for the rest of the night.

As all good things do, that dinner came to an end. Rebecca was insistent that she needed to sleep and not be hungover for her first day of classes. I made a mental note of asking her how the hell she knew what a hangover was. Megan and I walked her out to an Uber as she promised to text when she got back to the dorm. Then we walked inside, retrieved the spare key from its peg near the back door, and bestowed it upon Emily with an air of mock seriousness. She laughed and thanked us yet again for letting her use the room. We insisted it was our pleasure, and I reminded her that she was paying us rent, making us more her landlord than her friend's parents. She laughed at that too and caught my eye with a look that I couldn't quite grasp. Then she turned, strolled around the corner of the house to her very own back door, and Megan and I were left feeling the immensity of the empty house around us.

It was eerily still as we entered the dining room and began clearing plates. I could tell that Megan wanted to cry again, but I was close enough to that state myself that I didn't know what to say. Eventually we found ourselves just holding each other in the kitchen in silence. It was a good silence; a wholesome silence. The silence that speaks more words to your partner's soul than any speech could. I felt the dampness growing on my chest as Megan wept silently. She felt the heat in her hair as I did the same.