The country night is so quiet but my fevered brain raced with thoughts of Bree, the little cock tease sleeping on the other side of my bedroom wall. Bree. A nineteen year old blonde knows what she does to a man's libido, sauntering around my lake house in skimpy bikinis, teasing me with her great tits and a peachy ass, flaunting her firm teen body around me as she lounged around my house, tanned on my deck and diving into the lake. He replayed the scene of her lugging herself dripping from the lake, water dripping from the tips of her upturned tits. Even eating a hot dog became a tool of seduction for the twenty first century Lolita. Damn it. This summer at the lake was supposed to be time for me to bond with my estranged teenage daughter, Caroline who moved away after the divorce. The two of us in my little cottage by the lake, fishing and trolling around on my little fishing boat.
But Caroline surprised me by bringing her internet bikini babe friend and my idyllic vacation turned into a living nightmare. She is trouble with a capital T. She's been here less than a week and I've already caught her giving a blow job to a high school jock pizza delivery guy. I wondered if she's having lesbian sex with my eighteen year old college bound daughter, finding the two asleep spooned in Caroline's twin bed, but I didn't have the nerve to ask. I'll just pass on the information to the ex-wife and leave it up to her. With a heavy sigh, I rolled my eyes thinking of how I made the biggest mistake of my life and had sex, more like a grudge fuck, with the girl as my daughter slept in the room beside mine. Her scent still lingers in my sheets, reminding me of my drunken indiscretion of succumbing to Bree's slutty charms. And now, here I am, lying alone in my bed, worrying about what the vixen will do next. I hate her. I hate that I lust after a girl half my age. I hate that she's my daughter's friend and that her cunt has a waxed strip of blonde peach fuzz where I long to stick my tongue. I hate her.
Sleep had nearly over taken my slowing mind when I heard my bedroom door creak open and floor boards squeak under gentle footsteps. I turned over to see Bree, dressed in a t-shirt and panties, tip toe into my room. Her blonde hair shimmered in the moonlight as she softly closed the door behind her.
"What?" I whispered.