Author's Notes:
Sorry it took so long to get Part three submitted. It turned out to be much longer than I thought. I want to thank people for all the praise that I was given for Parts one and two, and I hope that this lives up to your expectations.
Special thanks to my new and first ever editor Yellow Peril, he did a whole lot of work on this story, with repairs and some positive additions to the story. (Yes, I did just copy that part from Part II, but it is still true so why mess with perfection.)
Thanks for Reading
CastleStone
Disclaimer: None of this is real and actually right now, you are dreaming this story. So, if it really sucks just wake up.
PS. At the end of part two I wrote.
I have been informed by my editor that it is sweeps week. Look forward to the exciting conclusion of Sophia in Part Three. There will be romance, sex, cooking, intrigue and comedy. Honest, would I lie to you?
Well I LIED!
Actually I was mistaken, but "Well I Lied", sounds more dramatic. The story is much longer than I planned for, and it ain't done yet. Personally I like part three better than part two, but there is more to come. There is going to be at least two more parts after this. Part four is with my editor (originally the second half of part three) and I've got half (or more) of part five done, so I hope to have the rest of the story done soon.
(I lied about this too.) It is now a line in Part Five.
"Carefully she put the laser sight on Don's date for the evening. Try and steal Don, she thought. This is the end for you."
I sincerely apologize about the delay. The end of Sophia is significantly longer than parts one and two combined thus it took longer to write. Also my editor's ISP uses drunken scotch drinking seagulls while my ISP uses beer swilling ground hogs. This has caused numerous lost emails and missing files when they do the hand off. Most recently with the part that you're reading now, it should have been posted far earlier. Of course none of this is my fault and yes, my wife really hates all the lame excuses I use around the house.
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The next morning we were all at the kitchen table while Don was making French toast. Megan was inhaling her coffee as she turned to Robin and said, "You tell him - I'm too sleepy."
Robin brightly replied, "Okay"
"Daddy," she yelled.
"Yes, pumpkin?"
"Maria, Vanessa, Kathy, and Freddie all think you're a dork."
"That's true, honey. But I'm a nice dork." Don didn't even pause while flipping the French toast.
"Well, we started a club to undork you so you can be a stud and meet lots of women. Is that okay?"
"That's fine; I could use a good undorking. Do we have to pay anything?"
Robin turned to me and I frantically shook my head no. "No, Daddy, undorking is free." All my friends had their hands over their faces at this point. I think Freddie was struggling to keep from laughing so hard that tears were coming out of her eyes.
"What's the name of the club?" Asked Don.
"The Perfecting Daddy Association," answered Robin. Megan wasn't even paying attention, she just sat there and sipped her coffee like this was an everyday occurrence for her.
"That's a nice name, do we get t-shirts?" asked Don.
"No, just ballcaps."
"Well, I guess that's better than nothing."
With those solemn words, we were now officially in business. I was beginning to think that maybe I needed a good undorking too.
……………………
"♫ I'm a dork, I'm a dork, I'm a dork, dork, dork.
I'm a dork, I'm a dork, I'm a dork, dork, dork. ♫"
I was half singing and mumbling to myself while cooking breakfast, the words matching music from the Lone Ranger/William Tell overture by Rossini.
When Robin told me what Maria and her friends thought about me, my immediate thought was,
"No shit, it took them long enough to figure it out."
Actually it did piss me off a bit because it brought up some bad memories
. I must be a dork for my ex-wife to cheat on me so flagrantly for three years with my sisters helping her to cheat.
Well, time to calm down. At least my new friends are going to try to undork me. They probably had some bullshit explanation planned to let me know; I'm glad that Robin just cut straight to the chase.
I know that they all are doing it out of kindness, because it is probably going to be a lot of work. On the other hand, I get to take personal lessons from four ex-models; yeah I can live with that. But maybe I should burn the French toast that I serve them?
I finished cooking and sat down at the table with them to eat. "Okay, when do we start the undorking lessons and what are they?"
I, of course, cleverly waited until they all either had food in their mouths or were drinking coffee. Food and coffee sprayed everywhere and I gleefully exchanged high fives with Robin. Megan, who had been drinking coffee at the time, was the only one not to spray; she just kept on drinking her coffee.
Kathy choked out, "We thought we would go skiing today, and tonight Maria would give dancing lessons again. That's part of your undorking."
"Sounds good to me."
I did pretty good skiing that day. Only my daughters and Freddie chose to stay close to me. I think the others were too embarrassed.
That night I was disgusted to learn that, since I was the subject of the undorking, I didn't get a baseball cap; what a gyp! On the other hand, the hat might have read "Official Dork" and I wouldn't like that.
Kathy picked up the explanation after my lessons. "Don, we all think you're a great guy, but your confidence really took a big hit because of the divorce. We're going to help you not only get your confidence back, but we're going to turn you into an attractive hunk. You've definitely got the potential, but there are some skills that we think you need to gain along with some slight physical improvements, but once we get those done you will be a real babe magnet. Then the four of us will start taking you out on practice dates. When we think you are ready we will get you a real date with some lucky girl. Just leave everything to us."
Why did this entire script start reminding me of "Pygmalion"?
The thing that really hurt was that they were eventually going to try to get me a date with someone other than them. I was kind of really hoping that one of my new friends was maybe interested in me romantically.
Who am I kidding? I was hoping that the kiss with Maria actually meant something and maybe she was in love with me. Let's get real - Maria is a rich, beautiful ex-model and I'm just a cuckolded dork.
My sisters had turned on me, all my friends had believed I was submissive and enjoyed being cuckolded, my coworkers had had so little respect for me that they didn't tell me about my adulterous wife and just screwed her themselves, the court system decided I had to know about my wife's affairs, and to top it all off and make it even worse, MY OWN DAUGHTERS believed the same things about me for a time! Cuckolded Dork is too good a name for me, something new should be invented just for me. I know if I let my disappointment and sadness show that they will just spout some bullshit to placate me. Hell, they might even give me a mercy fuck! Freddie and Kathy, with their self professed interest in sex, would probably even be willing to lower themselves to give me a mercy fuck, not that they would have any actual desire to do so.
As for Maria, there is just no way, that she could be romantically interested in me, but I'm head over heels in love with her. I'm a complete joke of a man. I've got to get over a woman that I was never involved with in the first place and I don't know how to do it!
A line from a completely appropriate song came into head.
"♫ Unchain my heart cause you don't care about me. ♫"
With that depressing refrain echoing in my head I complained about being sleepy and told everyone I was going to go to bed early. First, I needed to take a long hot shower. Only wimps cry into their pillows, but when you take a shower nobody knows. I was finally able to get to sleep about four AM after spending most of that time in the bathroom. With daughters, that is the only place a guy is guaranteed privacy. Shit I hurt! But it was my own damn fault - I had built up a fantasy in my head and let it become a possible reality in my own imagination.
The morning was absolute hell. I woke up about six-thirty. I wanted to hide in my room or go home to my apartment, by myself. I couldn't do any of that. First reason: my daughters. Second, my friends didn't deserve my rejection of them. They liked me, just none of them loved me and I shouldn't have been stupidly imagining anything different.
I kept on looking at my eyes in the mirror. They looked terrible and there was just no way to hide them. I needed some heavy exercise to break me out of this funk. I took another look at the clock, but it was still way too early.