"Mike! Mike!" Jacob grumbled as he stumbled up the stairs. Unless traffic was completely ideal, something that never happened in Sunridge during rush hour he was already going to be pushing his luck. "Mike!" He was normally excellent at waking up and getting out of bed, the only reason Jacob had even noticed his son wasn't up and moving was because his breakfast was getting cold on his plate. "Mike!" Something made Jacob stop at the door before he pounded on it to wake his son. He had no idea what made him just open the door, slowly and quietly instead of banging on it like he would any other time he wanted to wake his son.
"Right there, right there, fuck me Mike, fuck me!" Jacob didn't recognize the blonde woman riding his son. She didn't look much like Sara, not that he'd ever seen her in the buff before. He also didn't spend enough time looking at the women his son brought home to notice that this woman had a much more generous bust than Sara or that her ass looked a lot firmer. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Her long blonde, a shade darker than Sara's, hair was draped down over her shoulder blocking Mike's face from view. It didn't stop the young woman from noticing him though, the expression on her face was shock but she didn't stop the sensual roll of her hips on Mike. He met the young woman's blonde gaze for all of a single second before quickly backing out of the room, closing the door as silently as he could manage and stealing back down the stairs. As soon as he was back in the kitchen he turned the volume up a few notches on the television. He was careful not to turn it up enough that Mike and his friend would hear it but more than loud enough that he could pretend not to notice the young woman when she snuck out the front door and Mike came in with a long practiced stupid look on his face and instead of pressuring him for an answer Jacob fully intended not to notice anything out of the ordinary.
A few minutes later Mike came dashing through the room. "Sorry can't talk running late." He managed to spit out. He was shaving with his electric shaver and still feeding the belt through his loops when he bumped comically into a door that he didn't have a third hand or the eye to hip coordination to open. It took Mike almost a full second to process the information well enough to stop fussing with his belt and open it whipping the door shut in the same motion as he slipped out. Jacob could hear Mike peeling out of the driveway and down the street.
"Oh to be young and horny." Jacob mused finishing his bowl of oatmeal. Fortunately he hadn't even gotten a chance
Barefoot the woman, more a girl really, didn't make any noise as she glided down the stairs. Jacob didn't even notice her until she padded into the kitchen wearing one of Mike's football jerseys. The difference in their sizes made apparent by the way her bare shoulder was slipping out of the shirt's neck. "Sorry, my clothes are in the washer. . .dryer. . .something. There was an accident."
"Oh sorry." Jacob "I didn't mean to. . ." Jacob stammered slightly. He couldn't imagine why staring at this young woman made him feel like a clumsy teen. It wasn't normally a problem for him to look a woman in the eye, even an attractive one. With her though he couldn't figure keep his eyes on hers, they kept wandering down to her full pouty cherry hued lips, or farther down to her breasts. Even that loose fitting jersey did nothing to conceal the womanly curve of her hips and it only came down just far enough to keep Jacob guessing on if she was wearing anything beneath it.
A troubling thought. Not because he was concerned about an attractive girl walking around with no bra and possibly no panties but because he shouldn't be thinking those things about her at all. He was old enough to be her father. Probably older than that really, he'd been thirty nine when Jacob was born.
"It's okay, I'll just. . ." She giggled and walked to laundry room, aware enough of how short the jersey was that her hands were both on the hem holding it in place while she made her way across the floor. She let didn't have a choice but to let it go to open the front loading washing machine.
Jacob didn't mean to steal a glance at her. He'd turned because he heard the machine open, at least that was what he tried to convince himself even while he drank in her bare pert buttocks staring out from his son's jersey. Jacob found he was compelled to stand up and walk his bowl over to the sink. It was to clear the table and not because he wanted to get a closer look. The sink being near the laundry room was something that had been defined by the architects and it couldn't wait until she was gone because. . .because.
She glanced over her shoulder when she pulled her clothing out and met his gaze for an embarrassing second before they both turned away. "Sorry about that!" She squealed dumping her clothing in the dryer and randomly spinning the dial before scampering back out trying to hold the shirt down to a point that would preserve her modesty.
"No, I'm sorry." Jacob mumbled staring down into the sink and washing his bowl out. "I didn't mean to-"
Good God she smells like peaches!
The sweet aroma coiled around him like one of those ridiculous cartoon serpents. Jacob couldn't remember if it was from the one with fox shooting arrows or the one with the orphan raised by a panther but the snake had swirly hypno eyes and sang a soothing song that lulled you into doing whatever it wanted. The only difference here was she didn't seem to be doing anything but standing there being delicious. The only desires floating in Jacob's head were his own.
"This is just so embarrassing!"
They both said in unity before meeting eyes again.
"You've got nothing to be embarrassed by. . .oh God I don't even know your name!" Jacob admitted returning his attention to the now bowl that was now overflowing with bubbles.
"Trish. . .well Patricia but the only person who ever calls me that is my father and usually when he's pissed off about something. Which is always. He's gonna read me the fucking, excuse my French, riot act when I get home." Trish said shrinking slightly at the thought. She looked so vulnerable that Jacob had to consciously resist the urge to run over and wrap his arms around her. Partially because he knew that the urge wasn't entirely driven by the need to protect, the option of cupping that ripe rump and squeezing her breasts against him had nothing to do with comforting her. "So I'm not calling you Mr. Mike's Dad until I get out of here?"
"Mr. Delane. . .just call me Jacob." He smiled. He hadn't noticed that the sink was filling with water until it started spilling across the partition over filling and spreading over the sink prompting him to turn it off. "I meant to do that."
"Sure you did Jake." Trish teasingly smiled. Jacob stood for a moment staring at the sink before submitting to the fact that he was going to have to reach in and pull the stopper out and make a bigger mess in the process. "Sure you did. I'll just leave you to clean this up okay?"
"Yeah, I'll be fine." It felt like the temperature in the room dropped several degrees and a breath he didn't know he was holding was able to escape the moment she was blissfully out of sight. "Wow, glad I somehow dodged that bullet." Jacob thought aloud and wandered into the laundry room to fetch the mop and bucket.
