Swim And TangoChapter 3 free porn video

With my emotionally painful stroll down memory lane complete, I decided that I should get up and get breakfast going before I let the melancholy get me down again. Half an hour later, showered and ready to face another day--thanks in large part to two cups of coffee--I had the kitchen rocking. I fixed cinnamon rolls (the refrigerated kind that you bake out of a cardboard tube), bacon, breakfast sausage, hash browns, and assorted fruit. I kept the cooked food in the oven to keep it warm, and fixed myself a ham and cheese omelet. I waited until the girls were awake to find out what else, if anything, they wanted for breakfast.

True to form, Sandy stumbled into the kitchen about twenty minutes after I started cooking the bacon, one eye almost open. Her first cup of coffee was gone so fast I'm not sure the inside of the cup even got wet. She poured a second, and sat next to me at the table in her usual morning fog. When she was in high school, I timed her one week as a joke, and found out that somewhere between five and six minutes after her first sip of coffee, her brain would kick in.

Teasing, I set the timer on my watch for five minutes, and just watched her, smiling. "What's that for?" she asked groggily.

"It's so I know when the coffee kicks in and it's safe to talk to you," I teased.

She rolled her eyes at me, but I saw a hint of a smile as she did. When the timer went off, she sat bolt upright in the chair and said, "Okay, I'm awake now," which set both of us to laughing.

"Dad?" she asked hesitantly.

"Yes, punkin?"

"I really want to thank you for last night. You really made Michelle's day."

"Well," I started, looking in her eyes, "I'm not really comfortable with the way I reacted to her," I admitted.

Sandy started laughing, explaining, "I think you reacted perfectly. Your 'reaction' let her know what I've been trying to convince her of for months--that she's a hot looking babe. You can't fake that reaction. Besides, even though she was flirting outrageously with you all day, and even exposing herself a bit, you didn't push it.

"She was testing you. Every time you passed a test, she'd make the next test harder. She's convinced guys only want to date her to gain notoriety or to get in her pants."

"First, I'm not dating her. Second, how would dating her get them notoriety?" I asked.

"You may not think that you're dating her, but last night looked a lot like a date to me," she snickered. "Second, remember when she told you she was a swimmer?"

"Yeah, so?" I replied.

"What she didn't tell you is that she's probably the best female swimmer in the country. Only a major injury will prevent her from making the Olympic team in two years. She set three world records this last year, and they expect more from her next year.

"She's one of the best-known athletes on campus. Guys want to date her just so everyone knows who they are. She always complains that the type of guys she's interested in never ask her out."

"Oh," I answered, now understanding her problem a bit better. It was easy to understand why they'd want to get into her pants. She was gorgeous. The quieter, serious guys would avoid her like the plague, either wishing to avoid the spotlight, or figuring she had a long list of better-qualified suitors since she was so beautiful and so well known.

"So, what else do you want for breakfast?" I asked.

"Nothing, this is enough," she answered, her mind only half on my question.

"Even if I make crepes?" I asked.

"Huh? Crepes?" she asked, finally re-entering the same world as me. "Yeah, crepes--cool."

I took that as a request to fix some, so I mixed the batter and started cooking. I made eight; she ate all of them. "Thought you weren't hungry," I teased.

"I wasn't, but you know I always have room for crepes," she teased back.

About then, Michelle bounced into the kitchen with a cheery, "Good morning."

"Morning people make me crazy," Sandy grumped into her coffee.

"You were crazy long before you roomed with me," Michelle teased back, grinning at her. I noticed that Michelle's face was slightly flushed when she arrived, and wondered if she'd started the morning the same way she ended the evening.

Standing up and heading for the oven, I recited the available, already-prepared menu items for Michelle, and asked what else she'd like for breakfast. She begged off, saying that what I had cooked already was plenty. "In a pig's eye," Sandy challenged. "Dad, she eats more for breakfast every day that you and I combined."

It was fun watching Michelle bugging her eyes out and tilting her head in a 'would you shut up?' glare at Sandy.

"Michelle, you are our guest. Just tell me what you'd like to eat and how much. I understand that you're an athlete and eat more than someone who's not. It's nothing to be ashamed of."

Still embarrassed and looking at the floor she said quietly, "Two waffles with syrup and six scrambled eggs with cheese, if it's not too much trouble."

"Coming right up," I told her cheerily, hoping to erase some of her shyness and embarrassment. I caught her staring daggers at Sandy, who was laughing back at her. "More like sisters than roommates," I thought as I served her the last of the stuff that was ready, then plugged in the waffle iron, and started the batter. Once the first waffle was cooking, I scrambled and started six eggs cooking.

Once the eggs were started, I served the first waffle to her and poured the second. Then I finished and served the eggs before the last waffle was done. As I served her the last waffle, Michelle commented, "You're pretty good in the kitchen."

"Well, I used to cook for four teenagers. There were times I felt more like a short-order cook than a dad," I chuckled. "Everyone had to be here, there, or somewhere else all at different times, so it was rare we managed a meal with everyone together at the same time. We finally declared Thursday night 'family night' and made it off-limits for anything but family activities.

Her face finally softened and she thanked me for being understanding and for fixing breakfast. "I'm just self-conscious about how much I eat around people I don't know too well 'cuz I get teased about it so much."

"Well, I've got to go shopping today, so if you'll let me know what you eat and how much, I'll pick it up. Also, if you two need anything, be sure to put it on the list, too.

"Beer!" both girls cried out in unison, which got us all laughing.

As the girls wrote out the list, Sandy said, "Oh, Dad, you need to replace the box in your dresser drawer. I grabbed it this morning. I might need it."

I looked across the kitchen at her and raised my eyebrows questioningly. She just grinned and shrugged her shoulders at me, which got her the smile she was hoping for. I could tell from the look on Michelle's face she was trying to figure out what Sandy was talking about, and, unable to do so, decided it would be better to wait until they were alone to ask.

As we watched Michelle finish her breakfast, I told the girls I'd be going to work for a few hours and would shop on the way home, being home around 1:00 to fix lunch for them. I cleared the table as the girls headed for their rooms. I had filled the dishwasher and was wiping off the counter top when a pair of arms encircled me. They drew me into a hug from behind. The small, hard, nipples boring into my back let me know it was Michelle.

"Careful, Michelle, I could get used to this," I teased her quietly as I slid my arms across hers holding her embrace. Well, it was half teasing.

"How'd you know it was me?" she asked quietly, her warm breath caressing the side of my neck. I stood up straight, keeping my back to her so she couldn't see the massive erection she'd given me.

"Sandy wouldn't hug me in such an intimate way, and you're a little taller than she is so your arms are a little higher than hers would be," I told her, purposely omitting any mention of the two bullets pressed into my back.

The soft, sensual kiss on the side of my neck did nothing to ease the pressure building in the front of my pants. "Thank you, again," she whispered sexily in my ear. "I really did have a perfect evening, and appreciate you being so understanding at breakfast." Her warm breath was blowing directly in my ear as she talked.

I was sure she knew what she was doing to me, but I was still uncomfortable about it, even though I was enjoying it immensely. Turning my head slightly so that the side of my face touched the side of her face, I said, "Michelle, last night was definitely my pleasure. You made me feel like I was twenty-five again. As far as this morning, I told you, I understand that athletes have a big appetite. I used to have the same problem in college. You need to eat enough to fuel your body to do as much as you make it do."

We stood there, quietly, gently rocking back and forth for about a minute. When she let me go, she kept hold of my hand and turned me to face her. I immediately saw the wetness around her eyes and used my thumbs to wipe it off gently. "What's wrong?" I asked, concerned.

Looking deep into my eyes, she whispered emotionally, "Nothing, everything's perfect," and hugged me again, tightly.

"Damn," I thought to myself, knowing she'd definitely notice the bulge against her abdomen, and hoping she wasn't upset about it. Evidently, she wasn't upset as she continued to hug me, her body pressed tightly against mine. I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and hugged her back, trying to imagine Sandy walking into the kitchen right them in an effort to get my embarrassing erection to go away. It didn't help. "At least she isn't grinding herself against me like she did last night," I thought to myself.

"God, I can't believe how good it feels just to hold you," she sighed into my chest. Leaning back slightly she looked up at me, her gaze boring into my soul. I was so intent on her gaze that her lips were pressed firmly against mine, and her tongue invading my mouth before I realized she was kissing me. My lips parted from reflex and she sucked my tongue into her mouth. We dueled frantically as she slid her hand behind my head and pulled my lips tighter against hers. Rising up on her toes, she positioned herself so her clit was pressed against my raging hard-on, and began rubbing herself against it. I tried again to think of something to take my mind off the feeling building in my balls. I was only slightly successful, and was worrying that I'd cum in my pants when she gasped into my mouth and shuddered as her own orgasm overtook her.

I held her tightly as she buried her face in my chest, embarrassed, and slipped back down to where her feet were flat on the floor. I was grateful that the heat of her sex and the pressure were gone from my erection. She let go of me, pushing away from me, quickly turning, and running down the hall to her room, closing the door behind her.

I debated following her and talking to her, but decided it would only make things worse. Being as close as I was to coming, I finished the job while I showered. Once again, it was remembered images of Michelle and memories of how she felt and smelled that fueled the massive orgasm I had. Pressure relieved, I finished my shower and got dressed for work. I told Sandy I was leaving, and that I should be back by 1:00, and made sure I had the grocery list in my pocket.

Once my computer at work finished booting, I pulled up the documents I needed to work on, and was pleasantly surprised to find they were already done. Evidently, my assistant's husband was out to sea again. He was in the Navy, and whenever he left and went to sea, she'd spend lots of extra time at work to kill time and put off going home to an empty house for as long as possible. I wrote her a thank-you note and left it on her desk, calling a florist I used occasionally and arranged to have flowers delivered to her Monday.

"Well, that took a whole twenty minutes," I thought to myself before heading to the grocery store. Shopping took longer than usual, in part because of the extra quantity of food I had to buy, and partly because I had to find several items the girls added to the list. I did remember the box of condoms to replace the one Sandy claimed this morning, picking up two just in case Sandy went through the first one.

Of the three girls, she'd been the most sexually active that I was aware of. She made sure over the years I knew enough about it to keep her out of potential trouble a couple of times, but kept enough to herself that what I did know didn't make me too crazy. I usually knew whom, but not when or where. By her junior year in high school, she was going through more than a dozen condoms a month--much more than I was comfortable with (hell, even one a year was more than I was comfortable with)--but I bit my tongue and didn't say anything (much) about it.

I carried the bags of frozen and refrigerated stuff into the house on the first trip, figuring I'd need to make at least one more trip if I couldn't get the girls to do it. I was surprised that it was rather quiet, the only music coming quietly from a radio out back by the pool.

Setting the bags on the table, I went to the window and looked out at the pool. I gasped when I saw Sandy tanning, topless. Her breasts looked just like her mom's had. Sandy was definitely taking after her mother. Her mom was always horny, too, and even right before she left, insisted on sex six or seven times a week. We'd tried using a pillow to muffle her screams of passion, and as none of the kids had mentioned it, assumed it worked. She'd definitely been a screamer.

My meander down melancholy memory lane was cut short by a movement in the pool. Looking over, I saw Michelle swimming, and watched, stunned, as she tore through the water. I'd never seen anyone swim so fast--or so gracefully--before. She was poetry in motion. Her flip turn at the far end of the pool raised her thong-clad ass into the air where I got a good look at it in the fraction of a second it took to complete the turn.

I watched, rapt, as she completed several laps of the butterfly stroke, thoroughly enjoying the view of her ass as she undulated through the pool and at each turn. I gasped when she came up from one turn doing the backstroke. She was topless again, her pert breasts rolling out of the water one at a time as she raised the opposite arm above her head and dipped the hand into the water. I unzipped my pants and jacked off right there, watching her swim.

After putting my deflating cock away, I cleaned up my mess and started putting away the groceries, occasionally glancing out of the window at Michelle. As I was finishing with the first bags that I'd brought in, Michelle gracefully and effortlessly pulled herself out of the pool. I watched as she dried herself off, her hands roaming across her body under the towel. Laying her damp towel across a chaise lounge, she picked up the tanning oil and began smearing coconut oil across her body. I started getting hard again watching her run her hands across her breasts, rubbing the oil in.

"What do you want to do today?" Michelle asked. I died thinking she'd seen me staring and was asking me.

"Think you'd be okay here alone tonight?" Sandy asked with her eyes still closed. "I was kinda hoping to see Rex again, tonight."

With her eyes closed, Sandy didn't see Michelle's happy face fall. "I'm not sure I'd be comfortable alone with your dad," she said, "especially after ... well, after last night."

"You looked pretty comfortable last night," teased Sandy, finally rolling her head and shading her eyes to look at Michelle.

"Yeah, but you were there," Michelle protested. "I knew he wouldn't do anything with you there. Plus, I got kinda crazy last night and he might think I was coming on to him."

Sandy sat up and faced Michelle. "Michelle, I really want to go out tonight. I know my dad well enough to know that he'd never start anything with you or I wouldn't even think about it. Hell, if you wanted to get him into bed you'd have to grab his hand and drag him there. But, if you're really that nervous about it, I'll stay home."

"No, go ahead and go," Michelle conceded, resigned. "I'll be okay."

"Thanks, Michelle. I owe you one," Sandy said, standing and hugging Michelle. As she sat back down, she added as an afterthought "Oh, by the way, if you do drag him off to bed, leave your bedroom door open so I'll know not to bother you two in the morning."

"What makes you think I'd want to drag him off to bed?" Michelle sputtered, obviously embarrassed.

Sandy laughed loudly, explaining, "I can see it in your eyes every time you look at him and every time you talk about him. That, and I'm sure what I told you about him and my mom going at it for hours, several times a week, with her screaming the whole time piqued your interest.

"I told you earlier I won't be upset with either of you if you do. He's single, in great shape, good looking, and it's been much too long since my mom left for me to be upset. Hell, if he wasn't my dad, I'd gladly do him."

Sandy's last pronouncement almost floored both Michelle and me. As Michelle was scolding Sandy for the comment, I decided I needed to leave before they found out I was home and had overheard them. I made sure there was no sign I'd been home except for the groceries in the fridge, and hoped they didn't notice those.

I drove to a nearby lake and fed one of the loaves of bread I'd just purchased to the ducks while contemplating what I'd just heard. I knew I was infatuated by Michelle, intoxicated by her tiny breasts and lithe body, but was surprised to find she had feelings for me, too. As much as I yearned to make love to her, I knew the first time I did, I'd fall head-over-heels in love with her.

My feelings for her after twenty-four hours were much stronger than my feelings had been for my wife, Melody, even after a couple of months of dating. I knew Michelle was too young for us to have a serious relationship. She deserved a family, and even if we got married when she graduated in a year, by the time our first child turned eighteen, I'd be seventy. That wasn't fair to her or the child. Any short-term relationship--one night, one week, one anything--would again tear at my scarred heart when she finally left.

Knowing that nothing at all would happen unless she pushed the issue, I debated what to do if she did. Was it better to get involved and watch her leave, knowing the pain it would cause, or to not get involved if she indicated a willingness, knowing the pain that would cause. Unable to pick an answer, I decided that if she did indeed want to sleep with me, we needed to talk first and answer those questions for both of us.

My watch said it was about noon, so I called the house. After several rings, Sandy answered. "I'm just about done at the store. Any last-minute things I need to pick up?" I asked. She reminded me about the condoms, and I told her I'd already remembered. As we said good-bye, I told her I'd be home in about ten minutes, hopeful they'd take the chance to cover up.

Setting the rest of the groceries on the table, I saw the girls still by the pool. I was grateful that Sandy had put her top back on, and just as grateful that Michelle hadn't. Michelle was on her stomach, tanning. I noticed one set of damp footprints coming into the house to the phone and then heading right back out with no detours farther into the kitchen. That meant they hadn't seen the food in the fridge, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

I put away the rest of the groceries before hollering at the girls to find out what they wanted for lunch. Both girls looked towards the window, Michelle lifting herself up on her elbows as she did, purposely putting those gorgeous breasts on display for me. I was getting the feeling she and I would, indeed, be having a serious talk tonight. "Sandwiches," Sandy yelled.

"What kind?" I managed to croak back, still staring at Michelle's breasts.

Sandy turned towards Michelle, shaking her head when she saw her breasts on display. "I know where you're going to be when I get home tonight," Sandy teased Michelle quietly, but loud enough that I managed to hear her as her voice echoed off the fence behind Michelle.

"So?" Michelle asked defensively.

"So, have fun tonight," answered Sandy, not teasing this time, then hollered, "How about grilled cheese?"

"How many?" I asked.

The girls talked for a few seconds before Michelle called out, "Six."

"What do you want to drink?" I queried.

"Beer!" they both answered in unison.

Fifteen minutes later, I walked outside with their lunch. Four sandwiches on one plate for Michelle and two on Sandy's plate. Chips and dip were on a tray, as well as four cold bottles of beer. Both girls were on their stomachs, tops untied as I approached. Both sat up when I set the food down, leaving their tops on their towels. Sandy watched my face as I realized what she'd done.

"Honey, please put your top back on," I asked quietly.

"You don't mind Michelle being topless," she challenged.

"Michelle's not my daughter," I explained, trying to keep my voice even.

"So, don't look," she shot back. My eyes alternating between her eyes and her breasts, I started to say something, and decided not to. I turned and walked quietly into the house, into my study, and cried. For the next few minutes, I revisited all the pain I experienced when my wife left.

I startled at Sandy's touch as she put her arms around my neck and apologized. "I'm sorry, dad. I didn't realize you'd be so upset." I pulled her into my lap and held her, just like I did the night her mother left.

A few minutes later, I stopped crying enough to explain it was that her breasts looked just like her mom's that had triggered painful memories, not necessarily the fact she was topless. We hugged and sniffled together for a few more minutes. I finally broke the gloomy mood when I told her, "Besides, with naked breasts around, guys are going to look, no matter whose they are."

Jumping off my lap, she conceded, "Okay, you win. I'll wear a top when you're home."

"Thank you, baby," I said, and smacked her playfully on the nearly naked butt as she turned to walk away.

Turning back, she grinned lewdly and said, "Don't start that unless you're going to finish it."

Shocked, I blushed all the way to my toes, but asked her, "Should I get you a paddle for Christmas?"

Laughing as she walked away, she called out over her shoulder, "What makes you think I don't have one already?" Well, that definitely got me out of my funk.

Since I hadn't done my regular workout yesterday, I decided to go for my three-times-a-week 10K run. After changing into my running outfit, I headed out the door, glancing at the clock as I did--12:47. I ran out into the bright sun and thirty-four minutes later, glanced at the clock as I staggered back in the door. I downed half a bottle of cold Gatorade and walked around inside the air-conditioned house to cool down, sipping at the rest of the bottle as I did.

I glanced at the girls as I walked past the kitchen window. They were both on their backs. Michelle was still topless and Sandy had her top laid carefully over her breasts with the strings across the cloth of the top to minimize the area not exposed to the sun. I shook my head, smiling inwardly, and headed for the shower.

Once I'd washed off the sweat, I set out to do my normal Saturday housekeeping. I stuck my head out the back door and asked the girls if they had any clothes they wanted washed. Sandy laughed and said she had a whole duffel bag full in her closet--she'd saved them for me. Michelle had some, too, although not nearly as many as Sandy. I started Sandy's colored clothes first, cleaning the living room while they washed. Michelle's colored clothes were next, while I cleaned the family room and bathroom. Sandy's whites I added to mine to make a full load, and cleaned the kitchen while they washed. Each load was folded when it was dry, and I put Sandy's clothes on her bed. About 4:00, I asked the girls what they wanted for dinner. Sandy took the opportunity to let me know she had a date for the evening.

"Want another box, or is one enough for tonight?" I teased. She blushed furiously at my making the connection.

"Maybe I should have three boxes," she teased back.

"How many guys you going out with?" I teased back.

"I'm taking a shower," she changed the subject, still blushing as she rose and headed for the back of the house. Michelle was laughing hysterically as Sandy exited.

"I've never seen her blush that bad before," she gasped amid the laughter. "I finally figured out what you two were talking about at breakfast this morning when she said she took a box out of your dresser."

I chuckled, telling her the story behind the boxes. When I finished, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. "I can't believe you could just step in like that and be so thoughtful and understanding. No wonder she thinks so highly of you."

"You okay with her going out tonight and leaving you here?" I asked.

Blushing herself, she answered, "As long as you're not upset about this morning." I gently lifted her chin so she was looking at me instead of the ground.

"Michelle, the only thing about this morning that bothers me is that you were upset afterward. I was flattered that you trusted me that much and that I excited you enough to do that. That was quite an ego boost for this old man." I saw a faint smile cross her lips and knew she was okay.

"You're not that old. If Sandy hadn't told me, I'd swear you were in your early thirty's. Plus, you look to be in pretty good shape--especially for such an old man," she teased, grinning mischievously.

I clutched my heart and fell backwards onto the chaise lounge I was sitting on, my feet still on the ground. "Oh, cheap shot to the heart," I teased, feigning a heart attack.

Leaning over me, she said, "Oooooh, looks like CPR's in order," and then leaned down, and kissed me, driving her tongue into my mouth. Her right hand slipped behind my neck and pulled our faces together. Her left hand was suddenly high up on my thigh, mere inches from my crotch.

Instinctively I put my arms around her and hugged her as we kissed. The feel of her bare skin under my hands drove me as crazy as her kiss and her hand on my thigh. The whole time we kissed, I had to battle myself to keep my hands where they belonged. I wanted to cup her breasts in my hands, and squeeze her nipples before I sucked them into my mouth, bringing her to the heights of pleasure. Sighing, she broke the kiss and laid her head on my chest.

"So, what do you want for dinner?" I asked.

"What are the choices?" she asked, still lying against my chest.

"Go out to dinner, order pizza, or Chinese for delivery, or take a chance on microwaved TV dinners," I told her, chuckling.

Turning her head and looking at me, she asked "What about having pizza AND Chinese delivered?"

"Let's go order," I said. "I'm getting hungry."

Not moving, she looked slyly at me and asked, "Are you trying to get me to move?"

I hesitated for a few seconds, trying to decide just what to say. I finally settled on the truth. "Michelle, I love feeling you against me like this, I love holding you, I love kissing you, and I love looking at you. With you lying on top of me like this, basically naked, as much as I love it, I'm having a very difficult time keeping my hands where they belong, and I don't want to do anything to upset you or make you uncomfortable around me."

Looking deeply into my eyes, and with a serious look on her face, she asked, "If I let you up now, can we snuggle again after dinner?"

"Michelle, we can do anything you're comfortable with after dinner," I told her, anxiously scanning her face while trying to decide what I just got myself into. Lifting herself up, she kissed me again, then stood and extended a hand to me to help me up.

We went into the kitchen and I showed her where the take-out menus were, writing down our address and phone number. I took several bills out of my wallet and handed them to her. "Order whatever you want. I'll eat anything but anchovies on a pizza," I told her, heading off to start another load of laundry as she pored over the menus.

Michelle's whites were in the next-to-last load, and I noticed a thong turned inside out that looked like the crotch was still damp. Running it between my fingers I noted the slick dampness, and figured it to be the one she was wearing this morning after breakfast, changing out of it when she put her suit on. I took her folded colored clothes in to put them on her bed. The covers were still pulled down, so I made the bed before I put her clothes on it, and noticed a damp spot in the middle of the bottom sheet. "Probably from her activity last night," I thought to myself, smiling.

Once that was done, I cleaned up my room, realizing that the possibility of us sharing the bed tonight might at least be discussed at some point this evening. Hearing the doorbell as I finished up in my room, I walked to the living room to see which half of the meal arrived first. The poor pizza delivery boy's mouth was hanging open as Michelle greeted him in her skimpy bikini. I was grateful she'd at least put on the top half before answering the door, not that the bottom half hid much. I followed her and the pizza to the kitchen, surprised to find the table set for two with a single, lit candle in the middle. The doorbell rang again and we both headed for the front room, Michelle getting to the door first since she'd been closest. She paid the delivery girl as I took the bag of food, and we were heading back to the kitchen when Sandy appeared, dressed to kill.