The Swim Team Ch. 05

"Or candy sales?" Dennis suggested.

"I heard some kids actually clean houses..."

"Well, dad," Brenda shot a quick look at Linda, "we've been thinking about that, and we've talked with the other girls--including Ivory's sister Austin--and we might have a pretty good idea how to do it." She and Linda grinned like cats full of canaries.

If I'd only known what that meant.

#

Once the ice had been broken, Dennis and Linda began talking during dinner. I was glad to see them interacting, although it was still subdued and somewhat sad. They talked about Speedo Boy's case, and Mr. Landry pulling the funding from the school. Brenda kept quiet throughout the discussion. I guess she was giving them space to sort out their issues, but she still seemed to be between a simmer and a seethe when I caught her looking at Dennis. It confused me because I understood her desire to protect Linda, but her reaction seemed more direct than that. She was mad at him.

"Honey," I leaned close to Brenda and whispered while Dennis was talking about his new apartment and telling Linda he had a room for her to use whenever she came over. "I get that Dennis hurt Linda, but why are you taking it so personally?"

Her eyes flared and I drew back slightly before her expression softened. "He cheated," she said. "He lied. He betrayed...everyone."

I blinked. While that was true, I never knew fidelity to be such a hot-button issue for Brenda. Carrie and I were always faithful to each other, so we never exposed Brenda to the horrors of infidelity. "That's true, but that's between him and Kelly. Not him and Linda, or us."

Her mouth dipped into a frown for a second. I could see different thoughts playing behind her eyes as she tried to sort out her feelings. "No, you're right. I'm being unfair." She looked at him with pain in her eyes. "I'll be okay."

Something's not adding up. Before I could think more about it, voices were getting louder on the other side of the table. "I don't want to go to your apartment. I don't want to go home."

"But Linda, honey, you can't stay here forever. Your mom misses you."

"How would you know? You haven't been there either. Have you even called her?"

"Don't raise your voice to me," he flared, but then dialed it back. "Linda. These are difficult times for all of us. But that doesn't mean we all go our separate ways. Your mom needs you. She can't lose both of us at once."

"Oh, so it's okay for you to walk out on us, but I have to stay where you want me? What about what I want?"

"You're too young..." he started to say.

"I'm eighteen," Linda's volume had been climbing with each sentence. She was almost yelling. "That's legal. I can live wherever I want."

"Hey!" I interjected. "How about we make some milkshakes and listen to some music? Maybe watch some stand-up on Netflix?" I got up and made a show of gathering the dishes. Brenda, thankfully, followed my lead by reaching between Linda and Dennis to gather their plates, making them both sit back.

"Linda, could you get the glasses?" She paused in front of her friend. I saw the pointed look she gave her.

Linda hesitated for a moment, and Brenda cast her eyes at me and tilted her head. I don't know what they were saying to each other, but it was a silent conversation that only they could hear. Linda stood and grabbed her father's glass off the table. "Sure. I'll get the glasses." She pivoted around and marched into the kitchen.

Dennis threw his napkin on the table. "This was a mistake, Barry. She's clearly not ready to talk to me." He pushed back from the table as we heard the girls turn on the water to do the dishes.

"Dennis, maybe it's not just her. You can't talk to her like she's still a kid. She is eighteen, you know."

"Oh, I know. Look Barry, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but Linda has been pushing things at home for some time. I think she's going through some kind of rebellious phase. She's argumentative, obstinate, disrespectful to both me and Kelly. It's been going on for a while now. Long before I left. I haven't had a civil conversation with her in a while."

Linda? Sweet little Linda? "She's always been an angel when she's over here. Best behavior. Like all the time."

"Kids always behave better with anyone besides their parents," Dennis said. "That's what my mom always told me, anyway."

"Look, she's welcome here until things get settled with Kelly."

"Well, I'm not entirely in favor of the idea. Kelly needs her. I worry what she might do, left all alone like this." He started walking toward the foyer. "Look, Barry. I appreciate the offer, and I thank you for the meal, but I think it's best if I go." By the time he had his hand on the door, I saw him look over my shoulder. I turned around to see Brenda looking at us from the kitchen door. Her expression had a palpable effect. "Yeah, I need to go." He opened the door and stepped into the night but turned around. His eyes welled up as he spoke. "It's been great spending time with you, Barry. I've missed you. Take care of my little girl."

"I will." We hugged before he took off.

#

The rest of the evening was tense. We did the dishes in silence. I cleared, Brenda rinsed and loaded, and Linda wiped down everything. It was like a well-oiled machine. A very quiet machine. After we were finished, the girls changed into nightshirts and came back to the living room where I was reading my phone while drinking a Yeungling--my second. I had also changed into my gray PT shorts and my Def Leppard shirt. I was so engrossed in my phone I didn't hear the girls come in. I was so used to constant chattering with these two, it seemed surreal without it. I resisted the urge to start talking, though. I didn't want to pick at any open wounds with Linda or ignite any fires with Brenda. I don't know what was going on with them, but it had me on eggshells and I was getting tired of tiptoeing around.

"I'm heading to bed," I said standing up. "Dinner was delicious, girls. Thank you for that."

"You're going to bed now?" Brenda seemed overly concerned. Linda looked stricken. "But it's only 9."

"I'm exhausted. It's been a hell of a day."

"You can say that again," Linda mumbled.

Brenda flashed her friend a look. "But I thought we'd watch a movie or something. Right Linda? We were going to watch a movie?"

"You two feel free," I offered. "I'd probably doze off before the opening credits were done."

"Please stay with us, Mr. B." The plea was in Linda's eye, and though she wasn't begging, I could sense her need. It was kind of like that morning I woke up to find her in my bed needing a cuddle.

"We'll even watch those superhero movies you love so much," Brenda added.

"Oh, come off it. You love them, too." Brenda practically dragged me to the theater when a new Marvel movie was released.

"Only the Chrises. Hemsworth, Evans, Pratt. They're so yummy." She had that playful glint in her eye. "I'll even bring you another beer."

I rolled my eyes at that, which got a giggle from both girls as I plopped down in my spot on the couch as Brenda retrieved my beer. Before I could settle in, Linda glommed herself at my right side, folded her legs under her, and rested her head on my shoulder. I looked at Brenda as she handed me the cold, sweaty bottle, and she shrugged before claiming the recliner with the remote. I wrapped my arm around Linda's tiny shoulders as she pulled a throw over our bare legs.

Her body was so warm and comfortable against mine it would have been easy to forget she was my daughter's best friend. As the movie started, Linda had her arm laying across my abdomen, her hand resting just below my rib cage. I didn't think anything of it aside from how pleasant it felt. My hand rested on her right hip, over the blanket. Again, it wasn't a conscious thought, it just felt comfortable there; right somehow. I downed half of my third Yeungling as I sat there enjoying it.

As we lay there, I was aware of her breathing; of the pressure of her breasts on my chest with each and every breath she took, of the warmth of her breath blowing over me. The comfort, the beer, and my exhaustion, led to my eyelids getting heavy fairly quick. I felt myself sliding down on the cushion into a more relaxed posture, and Linda shifted with me. She lifted her face and nuzzled my neck briefly as she did so. "You smell so nice," she murmured and I felt her hot breath on my neck, triggering me to catch my breath.

I glanced over to Brenda, but she seemed engrossed in the movie. I had no idea what was going on in the film. My existence was wrapped up in a bundle of warm softness in my arms. I wondered--not for the first time--how her soft skin would feel on my bare chest. How it would feel to have her straddle my hips and lay on top of me as we kissed. How it would feel to move inside her. I downed the last of my beer to distract me from the not-so-pure thoughts running through my mind. A loud explosion in the movie drew my attention to the TV. Linda and Brenda were both apparently engrossed in the film, so clearly, she just needed a cuddle for cuddling sake. I was both relieved and disappointed at the realization.

I tried to engage the movie, but I had seen it so many times that it was difficult to focus on the action, especially with such an enticing distraction under my arm. My fingers had unconsciously already started tracing the curve of her hip bone where my hand rested. Her hand was doing the same thing on my abs, the thin fabric of the shirt the only thing separating our hands from each other. It was just idle fidgeting. Nothing overtly sexual. But it sure was sensual. I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her hair, and allowed myself to enjoy the sensations.

It had been a while since I held a woman in my arms; at least held one in a manner that wasn't comforting. My last date was more than a month past, and my body was craving intimacy. The taste of soft lips against mine, the weight of a warm body on mine, the feel of a woman's skin sliding over mine, and the heft of a breast in my hand all were sensations I was missing. But it wasn't just the physical sensations I missed. I also yearned for a woman's desire. The heady feeling of knowing she wants me as much or more as I want her. To work each other up to the point of ecstasy several times before allowing ourselves to crash over the crest into a mutual explosion of bliss, knowing that most of the satisfaction comes from pleasing her rather than her pleasing me.

I had really avoided making those connections since Carrie died, opting instead for casual dalliances when the need arose. Perhaps it was time for me to think differently about women. Perhaps I needed to actually have a spiritual connection instead of a purely physical one. Linda had been in my arms a lot lately, needing emotional comfort, and I know I felt an emotional comfort from those embraces, too. Perhaps, just perhaps, I needed to know that I could hold a woman for both emotional and physical needs.

I felt certain that my physical needs could be met by Linda, but it seemed so wrong, somehow. I couldn't take advantage of an emotionally frail child, who happened to be the daughter of old friends and my daughter's best friend, no matter how much I wanted to. Besides, she only sees me as a surrogate father.

She couldn't know how much I wanted her. How she affects me every time I see her. How her eyes ignite a passion deep inside me. How the way the light plays in her hair sends a bolt of energy to my heart. How the curve of her hips sends a bolt of energy to my groin. How I constantly imagine myself holding those hips as I drive my seed deep insider her as she soaks me in her juices.

A loud musical crescendo shook me back to reality. I must have dozed off, because the end credits of the movie were rolling on the big screen. I lay there as they scrolled, my mind in that fog state between consciousness and sleep. My ruminations had resulted in a tightness in my shorts, as I had sprouted an erection. What made it more awkward was that Linda had slid down so her head was in my lap with her face resting against my tumescent bulge. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing seemed regular, so I guessed she had fallen asleep herself. I glanced over to see that Brenda was curled up asleep in my recliner, the remote balanced on the arm of the chair. I started to move, but Linda's hand tightened on mine, squeezing it even tighter to her breast. Wait. My hand was holding Linda's breast again.

Rational thought was impossible now. Linda moved ever so slightly in my lap, her face rubbing against my fabric covered cock as her hand squeezed mine, forcing my fingers to knead her breast. I could feel the hard nub of her nipple pressing into my palm through the fabric of her shirt.

Time slowed to a crawl as I enjoyed the sensations of her body lying there against me, her breath warm on my cock through the fabric of my shorts, her firm breast in my palm. I couldn't help but allow my fingers to stroke her and pinch her nipple ever so slightly. She groaned in her sleep, but I felt her shift her chest more firmly into my grip. My cock lurched as she responded to my touch and my breath caught in my throat as I could have sworn she intentionally nuzzled the shaft against her cheek. Her mouth was slack, but open enough to feel her hot breath through the fabric.

I should have stopped there. I should have gotten up and sent the girls to bed and gone to my room and flagellated myself until I emptied the ten gallons of cum that were threatening to boil over. Instead, I caught her nipple between my fingers again and pulled ever so slightly with a twist. She drew in a soft gasp of air, pressed her hand into mine, forcing me to squeeze her breast even harder. I repeated the movement, marveling at how resilient and firm her young breast was, yet how pliable. When I pulled on her nipple again, she moaned out loud and began to tremble in my lap. I held her and stroked her as she shook ever so slightly until her breathing returned to a more normal sleepy rate.

What had I done?

Did I just give a teenager an orgasm in her sleep? The realization hit me in the forehead, bringing me to total consciousness. I looked over to see Brenda still asleep, but in a slightly different position. I had to get up. If I didn't, I didn't know what I would do. My cock was rampant and if left unchecked, I know it would try to get me to fuck that poor girl in my lap. I sat still, my hand no longer kneading Linda's bosom, but neither did I remove it. I willed my cock to flag to a half-hard state, knowing full well that one wrong move from Linda and it would resurge even bigger than before. After I was confident it was under control, I slid my hips away, lifting Linda's head from my crotch. With a pivot of my hips and a strategic pillow placement, I managed to swing myself off the couch and away from the beautiful young temptation. The last thing was to disentangle my fingers from where she held them to her breast.

I left her there, her head on the pillow I left in my place, and lingered long enough to appreciate the sensual way she lay on the couch: the curve of her hips into her thighs, no longer covered by a blanket, threatened to reverse the work I had done to quiet my cock. I turned to check out that Brenda was still asleep before I made my way to my room. Before I got there my cock was already back to full erection in anticipation of the rub-off that was coming as I replayed the feel of Linda's pert breasts in my hand and the sounds she made as she came under my touch.