Author's note:
As with all my series, this one started with just one germ of an idea that developed in my imagination one scenario at a time. Eventually, the series felt like it was at a nice place to end after 14 individual episodes. As I prepared to publish the collection on Literotica, I knew the full 80-some pages would be too long for one entry, so I thought about how it might be divided. As I re-read the story sequentially, I felt 3 distinct story segments emerge. I will publish each of these as I complete QA checks:
"Part 1-My New Family" comprises 5 episodes about the narrator's view of the emerging sexual integration with his new wife and stepdaughter.
"Part 2-Helping Out." in 5 episodes I explore what happens when the sexual freedom in the family touches Honey's school.
This is the final four episodes, which I've titled "Part 3-Adopting New Sisters". They tell of Anne's generosity, sharing her husband with her girlfriends.
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Part III. Adopting new sisters
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CHAPTER 11. Help me, Rhonda
[Hearing the melody "Spill the Wine" by Eric Burdon & War]
...
As I fell asleep and dreamed.
I dreamed I was in a Hollywood movie,
and that I was the star.
...
I stood high upon a mountaintop,
naked to the world
in front of every kind of girl.
...
I awoke abruptly to the clanking of dishes and talking coming up from the kitchen below. It seemed the song had been playing on a loop in my mind. It's easy to see what brought this golden oldie to mind— I had just spent the last hour or so on a kind of mountaintop naked before, well, I don't know for sure who I was naked before except for Miss Winters.
I guess I was having fun in my subconscious state. I was sporting a passable erection as I got off the bed. I hung the robe in the master bathroom and slipped on a warm-up suit: it was blue wind pants and a matching 1/4-zip, pullover windshirt. Looking in the mirror, I smoothed down my hair and headed downstairs.
I skipped down the stairs and rounded the corner nearly flying into the kitchen. I saw four women laughing, chatting and laying out dinner. With five places set, I guess I was expected.
"Hi. Is there anything to eat? I am famished," I said as I walked around the table kissing Honey and Anne who were at their normal seats. When I got to my usual seat at the head of the table, I looked down to see Heather beside Honey. "Hi Heather." Across from her, beside Anne was someone I didn't know.
Anne introduced her, "Sweetie, this is Rhonda, Heather's mom and my yoga buddy." Rhonda is petite and very young looking. In any other context, I would never have guessed she is the mother of a teenager. Her hair is short, parted low on the left. The light blonde bang sweeps to her right eyebrow where it demands you look into her deep blue eyes. She's wearing skin tight dark blue jeans and a sheer off-white blouse.
"Nice to finally meet you," I said, "it's great how close our daughters have become." I looked around the table at each of these four beauties and smiled.
Anne nodded and at once they each took their glass and raised it. Anne looked at me and said, "you too." I raised mine and waited. "To our guest of honor: the most willing and capable male art model ever."
"Hear! Hear!" They all said. We clinked glasses, took a sip then sat down to eat.
Over the next half hour, I listened to them banter. The table was filled with girl talk. There was school gossip. Complaining about tough assignments. Gripes about mean girls and mean or just bad teachers. And then they brought up Miss Winters.
Honey said, "Don't you just love Miss Winters, Daddy? She really likes you. She said you are the best subject she ever worked with."
"Does she now? She seems nice. Whether she's a good artist or teacher, I can't say until I see some of your pieces."
"She has taught all over the world," Heather continued, "even in Europe. She's shown us some of her art. It's really good."
Finishing the topic, Honey said, "she asked us to say 'Thank you, again' as she was leaving."
"Tell her it was my pleasure. I do what I can to support you."
"I will." Then looking at Anne she said, "Mom, do you think you could take Heather and me to the mall to pick up some art supplies? Our sketch pads are all used up."
"Sure, Honey. Maybe we'll get some ice cream while we're out, too. Go get your coats and meet me in the garage," she replied. Then turning to me she said, "can you keep Rhonda company for a while?"
"Of course," I said as I saw Rhonda up darting about the kitchen clearing the table and loading the dishwasher.
Anne leaned in to kiss me and whispered in my ear, "Today is her 35th birthday. Give her what she needs for me, okay?"
"Sure, Babe. Your wish is my command and my pleasure," I said softly as I kissed her and sent her off to shop with the girls.
I poured a fresh glass of wine for Rhonda and one for myself. When I tried to help her with the dishes, she put her hand up and shook he head, "you just sit there; I'll be done in a minute." I pulled out a chair and turned it away from the table so I could watch her work.
I sipped my wine as she sped back and forth from the table to the sink to the dishwasher. Finally, she pushed closed the dishwasher and hung the towel by the sink. She picked up her wine and stood in front of me. She took a sip as she looked at me. She smiled curiously. After a moment, she stepped to the table to set her glass down. Then she lifted her left leg and spun counterclockwise and jumped into my lap straddling me.
Rhonda leaned forward and kissed me and said, "I bet I know what you're thinking. You are thinking, 'I can't believe this is Heather's mom.' Sometimes I can't either. She gets her build and coloring from the father."
"Can we go somewhere more comfortable?" She asked as she slid off my legs, grabbed my hands and pulled me to standing.
"Sure, let's go into the family room," I replied as I led her out of the kitchen, across the entry hall and down the step into a large casual living space.
She flopped down onto the big leather sofa and patted the space next to her beckoning me to join her. After I joined her, she pulled her legs up under herself and leaned on my shoulder. She snaked her free hand under my shirt and played with my chest hair as she told me her story.
"I was just sixteen when he came home on leave from Iraq. His parents lived across the street from us and we had been on-again, off-again friends since I was in third grade. He played football in high school but wasn't quite big enough or fast enough to earn a college scholarship. So he joined the army. He was big enough and fit enough for the infantry, so he was quickly deployed after basic training.
"His mom asked me to write him so she wouldn't be his only connection to home. We exchanged one or two letters a month for over a year. It was nothing special, but it was nice. When he came home on leave he asked me out one time and we saw a movie together. Again nothing special, we were just hanging out as friends. We didn't hold hands or anything. He was home for about two weeks before he had to return to base.
"On his last night home, he asked me out to get a burger. On the way home, he drove to a side street not far from our homes and parked in a dark area. He turned off the car, turned and looked at me. He had a strange look in his eyes but he spoke softly, 'Rhonda, thanks for writing. You are the only girl who ever talked to me.'
"He reached across, undid my seatbelt, and put his hand on my leg. I didn't mind at first, but then I realized that he had undone his zipper with his other hand. Suddenly, like lightning, he flipped back my seat, spread my legs and covered my mouth. He was so strong and I was so shocked I couldn't do anything to break free.