I finished my Saturday morning yard work about twelve-thirty; grass mowed and edged, water-feature cleaned and water added; barbecue scrubbed down for steaks, later; patio hosed off, and the few weeds along the fence-line, pulled. Ruby and Roxy, my two, three-year-old basset hounds, romped on the new-mown lawn. Roxy took off running, Ruby close on her heal, baying for all she was worth. Up the hill they went, around water-feature and back down to swarm around my legs. Roxy ducked under the patio table to escape her sister’s aggressive lunges.
“Get her, Ruby,” I laughed; “go get her!”
Ruby followed her sister under the table and the race was on again. This time Roxy took off up the steps to the little sitting-area at the top of the hill to the left of the water-feature and raced around the covered patio swing located there. J and I liked to sit in it sometimes when sharing a glass of wine. Roxy avoided her sister once again and rocketed back down the steps and under the patio table.
I plopped down on one of the patio set’s chairs and chuckled. Both the dogs lay under the table, panting and grinning.
“Good girls,” I said; “good chase!”
I took a long pull on my Corona and leaned back in the chair, looking around the yard, enjoying the fact that I was done with my chores, and that the yard was ready for my birthday party scheduled for later that evening.
It was a hot morning for late September; but the East Bay can be like that, hot and dry when The City is cold and fogged in. The excellent weather in our little town was one of the reasons that J and I bought our home where we did when we moved to the Bay Area. That move, about two years earlier, was prompted when I accepted a job with a prestigious law firm in San Francisco. It was a great opportunity for me, career-wise, and a dream-come-true for J, who had grown up in San Francisco, and only left it to marry me.
J got married when she was pretty young and had two girls with a guy who was an emotionally distant, cold-blooded fish. That marriage ended in divorce, just like my first marriage had. I always told J that her ex and mine would have been perfect together; since my ex was a cold fish, too.
Now J, on the other hand, she’s a hot, sweet, Irish girl who loves sex every way it comes; and to tell you the truth, THAT suits me just fine! She’s still as hot and sexy as the day I first saw her; a petite, black-haired siren with the cutest little ass you’ve ever seen and a set of tits to capture the attention of men of all ages!
I was roused out of my reverie by the very object of my musings, J. She stuck her head out from between the French doors leading from our kitchen to the patio, and flashed her bright, lovely smile my way.
“Hon,” she said, “I’m going over to Sam’s place for a few hours to visit; then, I’m planning to pick up a few things at Trader Joe’s for the party tonight. I’ll be back by five or so. I think that Jewel will have gotten here by then, OK?” She dimpled sweetly as she grinned at me.
Sam is actually “Samantha,” one of J’s girlfriends and Jewel is J’s oldest daughter, a red-haired beauty, born to J when she was just eighteen. Jewel, at 26 was an independent single woman, living on her own in Marin County. Her apartment was just about an hour’s drive away down highway 37 from our house, so Jewel had gotten into the habit of spending most weekends with us ever since we moved back to the Bay Area. Although Jewel had never lived with us since J and I got married, we both enjoyed having her visit whenever she liked; her unquenchable good nature and bubbly personality made her fun to be around. From the number of weekends she spent with us, it was clear that she enjoyed spending time with us, too.
“OK, darlin’,” I replied. “I’ll miss you, though! I was just thinking about taking a shower, and I need someone to wash my . . . back.” I put on my best “dirty old man” leer. “If you know what I mean!”
I looked J up and down through the glass of the French doors. She was dressed to the 9’s and looked like a million bucks. Her black curls were pulled back from her face in a very flattering “do” that she knew I loved. Her creamy skin radiated a healthy, fresh-scrubbed glow. She had skillfully applied a blue-hued shadow to her eyelids, which complemented her Irish-blue eyes. A gentle, dusty rose blush highlighted her high cheekbones. She had also applied a coral pink lip gloss to her slightly thin upper lip and her slightly fuller bottom lip to finish off. Perhaps a touch more makeup than was warranted for a gab-fest with her girlfriend and a trip to Trader Joe’s, but certainly not too much for the party planned for tonight. I suspected that she dolled herself up so as to look extra special for my birthday party. There was no doubt that she had succeeded; she looked stunning. I loved that she took such good care of herself and made an effort to look feminine and attractive, even if it was just the two of us at home.
I enjoyed giving her a long once-over, and appreciated how her eyes sparkled in delight at the obvious high-level of enjoyment I was getting by ogling her. She looked incredibly sexy in her short skirt and simple white blouse. I began to anticipate, in earnest, both the birthday party and the fact that I was planning on making her absolutely squeal in bed tonight! I could hardly wait for the evening to begin.
“Oh, you poor OLD man; yes, I know exactly what you mean,” J teased. “It’s just too bad for you that I’m all dressed up and ready to go! But you never know, maybe you won’t need my help; after all, it IS your birthday!” Her cute, little upturned nose crinkled across the bridge and she had a mischievous smile that touched her lips and then disappeared as quickly as it came.
“Seriously, Scott; I’ve got to run out right now, or I’ll be late, and then your party will be late. You don’t want that, do you?”
“No, no, I don’t want my party to start late! You’re right, get going!” I let out a mock sigh and put on a show by slumping in my chair like a spoiled child who has been denied a candy bar. “But I expect your best “work” tonight, after the party. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” I said, giving her another knowing leer.
J stepped all the way onto the top stair of the patio, letting me get a good look at her. She twirled around once or twice, letting the hem of her short skirt flair out just enough for me to see that she was wearing a bright red, lacy thong underneath. I noticed that her pussy’s labia were barely covered by the small, red triangle of her thong. J laughed as she twirled and when she circled back around to face me, she stabbed me in the heart with a smoldering look from her ice-blue eyes. “Honey, does that give you ideas about my plans for tonight?”
I jolted up erect in my chair (in more ways than one) when I caught sight of that red thong. J liked to call it her “cum hither” thong, and when she wore it, I could always count on some serious, sex-filled hours of fun, exploring new sexual heights with my bride.
“Baby!” I exclaimed; “you just made me a very happy man, indeed! I love it when you put that thong on because I know that it means that you have something special planned! I can’t wait to be surprised tonight!”
J’s response was a dazzling smile and a big stage wink.
“Weeeelllll,” she drawled; “that’s for me to know, and you to find out! Gotta go!” With that parting shot, she gave one last twirl and darted back into the kitchen.
I sat there in awe of my sweet wife. She was always thinking up new ways to pleasure me. I really didn’t deserve her, I thought. That racy, lacy red thong had opened several new sexual doors for us lately, and my blood rushed from my big head to my little head in an instant. Thoughts of lust and sexual fantasies fulfilled by J and that red thong sprang full grown into my mind. I knew that tonight was going to be one to remember!
“Yep, the stage is set and the coast is clear. I’m just leaving the house now.” I heard J’s voice float through the open dining room window, fading as she walked through the kitchen and toward the door to the garage. “I told him that I wouldn’t be back until after 5. . . Yes, I’m so happy that we talked about this. . . Yes, sweetie, of course we’re ‘cool’!” I think it’s a great birthday present! I know he’ll love it, and I am very certain that you’ll . . .”
J’s voice was cut off by the slamming of the garage door. Moments later I heard J’s 2010 Lexus SC purr to life and exit the garage. J loved that car, and loved to drive it fast! I heard the tires squeal a bit as she turned the corner and accelerated away on Oakhurst Boulevard. J picked out the color of the SC when we bought it for her a couple of months earlier. The Lexus dealership told me that the color was “Matador Mica Red,” bur ever since J got her first speeding ticket (about a week after we got the car home) I took to calling it “Screaming Hot Red.” J wasn’t particularly amused, but she didn’t seem to change her driving habits too much, because there had been a couple more ticket since then. “Oh well,” I thought to myself, “that car was made for her; two hot, fast ladies in very pretty chassis.” I sighed a bit and said a little prayer that I wouldn’t have to “fix” another speeding ticket for her.
My thoughts turned to J’s phone conversation as I rose from my chair, finished my Corona in a gulp or two and called the dogs to follow me into the house. “I wonder who she was talking to,” I asked Roxy. She looked lazily up at me, thumped her tail a time or to, and seemed to say: “You talking to me?”, then she closed her eyes and let her head drop back onto the stone of the patio, cool in the shade of the table. Ruby jumped up with her tail wagging and trotted happily after me. I let Roxy lay there and didn’t push the issue. She would be fine alone in the back yard. Ruby, on the other hand was a hellion; she would trash the entire yard in ten minutes if I had dared to leave her alone unsupervised. She was always getting into trouble!
Ruby followed me up the stairs to the master bedroom. I started shedding my work clothes and headed for the shower. When J and I bought the place we put in a new master bath with an oversized shower. J and I liked to shower together so I had the stall made about twice the size of a standard stall with two sets of shower heads. It was kinda decadent, but for the fun it gave us, it was well worth the money.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror as I walked to the shower. I had heard J describe me to her gal-pals as “ruggedly handsome.” That description made me laugh because it was a tag line used in the TV show “Castle” that J and I liked to watch. But, thinking about it, I suppose that it was a fair enough description. I wasn’t an Adonis or an Arnold Schwarzenegger, by any means, but I kept in shape and had a flat stomach and well defined pecks. I hit the gym two or three times a week for weight-training and ran about five miles a day, too. My regimen had kept my body as hard, or a bit harder, than when I was in college.
With brown hair and hazel eyes I didn’t have a particularly “Nordic” look, even though I come from Northern European stock. One of my best features above my belt was my smile and I had used it extensively in my college days to snare quite a succession of lovely ladies into my bed! I smiled at the sudden recollection of one of those ladies flat on her back, legs in the air, giggling while I pounded her tight, co-ed pussy. I heard her exclamation echo in my mind like it was yesterday; “You have the dreamiest smile and the hardest cock!” As I recall, I fucked that girl a number of times after I hooked her with my “dreamy” smile. Perhaps they came back for the smile, but just maybe they came back for the cock. In those days I was always wondering how I “stacked up” to other guys; but as I matured, I realized that there was more to a good fuck than just dick size, even though I know now that I am somewhat above average in that department. My dick is both fatter and longer than most.
I stepped into the shower and the hot streams of water shooting out of the double showerheads hit my body. The water cascaded down my flanks and cock which hung lazily between my thighs. The movement of the water over my body felt good. I stuck my head under the jets of water and let the hot needles work their magic on my scalp. I opened my eyes and looked down at my cock. It was in need of a shave, I decided.
I grabbed my shaving gel and shot a blob of blue gel into the palm of my hand. I rubbed it generously on my pubic area and over my cock and ball sack, working it up to a great lather. My dick stiffened a bit with the attention, making it easier to shave. I deftly guided my twin-bladed razor over my pubic area, sweeping it clean of any prickly stubble. I then grabbed cock, now fairly hard, and shaved the shaft clean, as well as the tricky part where the shaft merges with the pubic mound. Once that was smooth, I moved to my ball sack. Getting it freed of stubble was the toughest part of the shave routine, but after a thorough scraping, my fingers couldn’t detect anything but smooth scrotum. I turned the razor loose on my face and scraped it clean too; “after all,” I thought to myself; “don’t want any stubble to rub J’s legs raw when I eat her pussy tonight, right?”
I threw some shampoo on my hair and lathered it up. Just then I heard Ruby making noises in the bedroom. Damn it! “Ruby! Be Good!” I called out. “I’ll be out of the shower in a minute.” My eyes were screwed up tight against the shampoo lather running off my head, and the roar of the shower made it hard to discern the nature of Ruby’s shenanigans, so I jumped a bit when I heard a voice say; “Ruby; Daddy’s right, be good. But don’t get your hopes up about him coming out of the shower anytime soon.”
I jumped at the sound of the voice. Turning around in the shower to face the voice, eyes still closed against the shampoo. “Good God, J!” I yelled; “you nearly gave me a heart attack. I didn’t hear you come in and I thought you wouldn’t be home for hours yet!”
“Ah-hem,” I heard a throat cleared in sort of a “hey you” way.
At the risk of getting shampoo in my eyes I unclenched my lids a bit and peered through the clear glass wall of the shower. “Shit!” I shouted. “What the hell are YOU doing here!?”
There, standing in my bathroom, bold as you please and looking at me through the clear glass wall of the shower was my step-daughter, Jewel. I quickly stuck my head under the pounding hot water to wash away the shampoo burning my eyes, and turned my back on her. My heart was pounding and my mind was furiously trying to make sense of the delicate nature of the situation presented by having my step-daughter staring at my bare ass!
“Well; what are you doing, and why are you just standing there? Don’t you think you should leave?” I shouted over the sound of the shower heads shooting hot water all over my naked body. The hot jets of water emphasized the fact that I was standing naked in front of my step-daughter. I groaned and wondered how I was going to get out of this situation with any dignity at all.
“Are you trying to embarrass an old man?” I looked over my shoulder at Jewel. Instead of leaving, Jewel had moved closer to the shower. She was standing just on the other side of the glass wall of the shower enclosure. When she saw me turn my head she shot me...
“Get her, Ruby,” I laughed; “go get her!”
Ruby followed her sister under the table and the race was on again. This time Roxy took off up the steps to the little sitting-area at the top of the hill to the left of the water-feature and raced around the covered patio swing located there. J and I liked to sit in it sometimes when sharing a glass of wine. Roxy avoided her sister once again and rocketed back down the steps and under the patio table.
I plopped down on one of the patio set’s chairs and chuckled. Both the dogs lay under the table, panting and grinning.
“Good girls,” I said; “good chase!”
I took a long pull on my Corona and leaned back in the chair, looking around the yard, enjoying the fact that I was done with my chores, and that the yard was ready for my birthday party scheduled for later that evening.
It was a hot morning for late September; but the East Bay can be like that, hot and dry when The City is cold and fogged in. The excellent weather in our little town was one of the reasons that J and I bought our home where we did when we moved to the Bay Area. That move, about two years earlier, was prompted when I accepted a job with a prestigious law firm in San Francisco. It was a great opportunity for me, career-wise, and a dream-come-true for J, who had grown up in San Francisco, and only left it to marry me.
J got married when she was pretty young and had two girls with a guy who was an emotionally distant, cold-blooded fish. That marriage ended in divorce, just like my first marriage had. I always told J that her ex and mine would have been perfect together; since my ex was a cold fish, too.
Now J, on the other hand, she’s a hot, sweet, Irish girl who loves sex every way it comes; and to tell you the truth, THAT suits me just fine! She’s still as hot and sexy as the day I first saw her; a petite, black-haired siren with the cutest little ass you’ve ever seen and a set of tits to capture the attention of men of all ages!
I was roused out of my reverie by the very object of my musings, J. She stuck her head out from between the French doors leading from our kitchen to the patio, and flashed her bright, lovely smile my way.
“Hon,” she said, “I’m going over to Sam’s place for a few hours to visit; then, I’m planning to pick up a few things at Trader Joe’s for the party tonight. I’ll be back by five or so. I think that Jewel will have gotten here by then, OK?” She dimpled sweetly as she grinned at me.
Sam is actually “Samantha,” one of J’s girlfriends and Jewel is J’s oldest daughter, a red-haired beauty, born to J when she was just eighteen. Jewel, at 26 was an independent single woman, living on her own in Marin County. Her apartment was just about an hour’s drive away down highway 37 from our house, so Jewel had gotten into the habit of spending most weekends with us ever since we moved back to the Bay Area. Although Jewel had never lived with us since J and I got married, we both enjoyed having her visit whenever she liked; her unquenchable good nature and bubbly personality made her fun to be around. From the number of weekends she spent with us, it was clear that she enjoyed spending time with us, too.
“OK, darlin’,” I replied. “I’ll miss you, though! I was just thinking about taking a shower, and I need someone to wash my . . . back.” I put on my best “dirty old man” leer. “If you know what I mean!”
I looked J up and down through the glass of the French doors. She was dressed to the 9’s and looked like a million bucks. Her black curls were pulled back from her face in a very flattering “do” that she knew I loved. Her creamy skin radiated a healthy, fresh-scrubbed glow. She had skillfully applied a blue-hued shadow to her eyelids, which complemented her Irish-blue eyes. A gentle, dusty rose blush highlighted her high cheekbones. She had also applied a coral pink lip gloss to her slightly thin upper lip and her slightly fuller bottom lip to finish off. Perhaps a touch more makeup than was warranted for a gab-fest with her girlfriend and a trip to Trader Joe’s, but certainly not too much for the party planned for tonight. I suspected that she dolled herself up so as to look extra special for my birthday party. There was no doubt that she had succeeded; she looked stunning. I loved that she took such good care of herself and made an effort to look feminine and attractive, even if it was just the two of us at home.
I enjoyed giving her a long once-over, and appreciated how her eyes sparkled in delight at the obvious high-level of enjoyment I was getting by ogling her. She looked incredibly sexy in her short skirt and simple white blouse. I began to anticipate, in earnest, both the birthday party and the fact that I was planning on making her absolutely squeal in bed tonight! I could hardly wait for the evening to begin.
“Oh, you poor OLD man; yes, I know exactly what you mean,” J teased. “It’s just too bad for you that I’m all dressed up and ready to go! But you never know, maybe you won’t need my help; after all, it IS your birthday!” Her cute, little upturned nose crinkled across the bridge and she had a mischievous smile that touched her lips and then disappeared as quickly as it came.
“Seriously, Scott; I’ve got to run out right now, or I’ll be late, and then your party will be late. You don’t want that, do you?”
“No, no, I don’t want my party to start late! You’re right, get going!” I let out a mock sigh and put on a show by slumping in my chair like a spoiled child who has been denied a candy bar. “But I expect your best “work” tonight, after the party. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” I said, giving her another knowing leer.
J stepped all the way onto the top stair of the patio, letting me get a good look at her. She twirled around once or twice, letting the hem of her short skirt flair out just enough for me to see that she was wearing a bright red, lacy thong underneath. I noticed that her pussy’s labia were barely covered by the small, red triangle of her thong. J laughed as she twirled and when she circled back around to face me, she stabbed me in the heart with a smoldering look from her ice-blue eyes. “Honey, does that give you ideas about my plans for tonight?”
I jolted up erect in my chair (in more ways than one) when I caught sight of that red thong. J liked to call it her “cum hither” thong, and when she wore it, I could always count on some serious, sex-filled hours of fun, exploring new sexual heights with my bride.
“Baby!” I exclaimed; “you just made me a very happy man, indeed! I love it when you put that thong on because I know that it means that you have something special planned! I can’t wait to be surprised tonight!”
J’s response was a dazzling smile and a big stage wink.
“Weeeelllll,” she drawled; “that’s for me to know, and you to find out! Gotta go!” With that parting shot, she gave one last twirl and darted back into the kitchen.
I sat there in awe of my sweet wife. She was always thinking up new ways to pleasure me. I really didn’t deserve her, I thought. That racy, lacy red thong had opened several new sexual doors for us lately, and my blood rushed from my big head to my little head in an instant. Thoughts of lust and sexual fantasies fulfilled by J and that red thong sprang full grown into my mind. I knew that tonight was going to be one to remember!
“Yep, the stage is set and the coast is clear. I’m just leaving the house now.” I heard J’s voice float through the open dining room window, fading as she walked through the kitchen and toward the door to the garage. “I told him that I wouldn’t be back until after 5. . . Yes, I’m so happy that we talked about this. . . Yes, sweetie, of course we’re ‘cool’!” I think it’s a great birthday present! I know he’ll love it, and I am very certain that you’ll . . .”
J’s voice was cut off by the slamming of the garage door. Moments later I heard J’s 2010 Lexus SC purr to life and exit the garage. J loved that car, and loved to drive it fast! I heard the tires squeal a bit as she turned the corner and accelerated away on Oakhurst Boulevard. J picked out the color of the SC when we bought it for her a couple of months earlier. The Lexus dealership told me that the color was “Matador Mica Red,” bur ever since J got her first speeding ticket (about a week after we got the car home) I took to calling it “Screaming Hot Red.” J wasn’t particularly amused, but she didn’t seem to change her driving habits too much, because there had been a couple more ticket since then. “Oh well,” I thought to myself, “that car was made for her; two hot, fast ladies in very pretty chassis.” I sighed a bit and said a little prayer that I wouldn’t have to “fix” another speeding ticket for her.
My thoughts turned to J’s phone conversation as I rose from my chair, finished my Corona in a gulp or two and called the dogs to follow me into the house. “I wonder who she was talking to,” I asked Roxy. She looked lazily up at me, thumped her tail a time or to, and seemed to say: “You talking to me?”, then she closed her eyes and let her head drop back onto the stone of the patio, cool in the shade of the table. Ruby jumped up with her tail wagging and trotted happily after me. I let Roxy lay there and didn’t push the issue. She would be fine alone in the back yard. Ruby, on the other hand was a hellion; she would trash the entire yard in ten minutes if I had dared to leave her alone unsupervised. She was always getting into trouble!
Ruby followed me up the stairs to the master bedroom. I started shedding my work clothes and headed for the shower. When J and I bought the place we put in a new master bath with an oversized shower. J and I liked to shower together so I had the stall made about twice the size of a standard stall with two sets of shower heads. It was kinda decadent, but for the fun it gave us, it was well worth the money.
I glanced at my reflection in the mirror as I walked to the shower. I had heard J describe me to her gal-pals as “ruggedly handsome.” That description made me laugh because it was a tag line used in the TV show “Castle” that J and I liked to watch. But, thinking about it, I suppose that it was a fair enough description. I wasn’t an Adonis or an Arnold Schwarzenegger, by any means, but I kept in shape and had a flat stomach and well defined pecks. I hit the gym two or three times a week for weight-training and ran about five miles a day, too. My regimen had kept my body as hard, or a bit harder, than when I was in college.
With brown hair and hazel eyes I didn’t have a particularly “Nordic” look, even though I come from Northern European stock. One of my best features above my belt was my smile and I had used it extensively in my college days to snare quite a succession of lovely ladies into my bed! I smiled at the sudden recollection of one of those ladies flat on her back, legs in the air, giggling while I pounded her tight, co-ed pussy. I heard her exclamation echo in my mind like it was yesterday; “You have the dreamiest smile and the hardest cock!” As I recall, I fucked that girl a number of times after I hooked her with my “dreamy” smile. Perhaps they came back for the smile, but just maybe they came back for the cock. In those days I was always wondering how I “stacked up” to other guys; but as I matured, I realized that there was more to a good fuck than just dick size, even though I know now that I am somewhat above average in that department. My dick is both fatter and longer than most.
I stepped into the shower and the hot streams of water shooting out of the double showerheads hit my body. The water cascaded down my flanks and cock which hung lazily between my thighs. The movement of the water over my body felt good. I stuck my head under the jets of water and let the hot needles work their magic on my scalp. I opened my eyes and looked down at my cock. It was in need of a shave, I decided.
I grabbed my shaving gel and shot a blob of blue gel into the palm of my hand. I rubbed it generously on my pubic area and over my cock and ball sack, working it up to a great lather. My dick stiffened a bit with the attention, making it easier to shave. I deftly guided my twin-bladed razor over my pubic area, sweeping it clean of any prickly stubble. I then grabbed cock, now fairly hard, and shaved the shaft clean, as well as the tricky part where the shaft merges with the pubic mound. Once that was smooth, I moved to my ball sack. Getting it freed of stubble was the toughest part of the shave routine, but after a thorough scraping, my fingers couldn’t detect anything but smooth scrotum. I turned the razor loose on my face and scraped it clean too; “after all,” I thought to myself; “don’t want any stubble to rub J’s legs raw when I eat her pussy tonight, right?”
I threw some shampoo on my hair and lathered it up. Just then I heard Ruby making noises in the bedroom. Damn it! “Ruby! Be Good!” I called out. “I’ll be out of the shower in a minute.” My eyes were screwed up tight against the shampoo lather running off my head, and the roar of the shower made it hard to discern the nature of Ruby’s shenanigans, so I jumped a bit when I heard a voice say; “Ruby; Daddy’s right, be good. But don’t get your hopes up about him coming out of the shower anytime soon.”
I jumped at the sound of the voice. Turning around in the shower to face the voice, eyes still closed against the shampoo. “Good God, J!” I yelled; “you nearly gave me a heart attack. I didn’t hear you come in and I thought you wouldn’t be home for hours yet!”
“Ah-hem,” I heard a throat cleared in sort of a “hey you” way.
At the risk of getting shampoo in my eyes I unclenched my lids a bit and peered through the clear glass wall of the shower. “Shit!” I shouted. “What the hell are YOU doing here!?”
There, standing in my bathroom, bold as you please and looking at me through the clear glass wall of the shower was my step-daughter, Jewel. I quickly stuck my head under the pounding hot water to wash away the shampoo burning my eyes, and turned my back on her. My heart was pounding and my mind was furiously trying to make sense of the delicate nature of the situation presented by having my step-daughter staring at my bare ass!
“Well; what are you doing, and why are you just standing there? Don’t you think you should leave?” I shouted over the sound of the shower heads shooting hot water all over my naked body. The hot jets of water emphasized the fact that I was standing naked in front of my step-daughter. I groaned and wondered how I was going to get out of this situation with any dignity at all.
“Are you trying to embarrass an old man?” I looked over my shoulder at Jewel. Instead of leaving, Jewel had moved closer to the shower. She was standing just on the other side of the glass wall of the shower enclosure. When she saw me turn my head she shot me...
