Neighborhood Dad Ch 06

Thanks to everyone who has continued to follow this story.

A big snowfall this week gave me some free time to write, so this is the longest chapter so far.

I hope people like, and as always I appreciate the votes.

I have one story, Sheer Undies, that has been up on the site for nearly five years and hasn't had anywhere near the number of reads and votes as this series, so thanks a bunch.

*

On the ride home, Paige asked, "Sooooo, what did you think?"

My mind flashed back to the girls' nice figures. "Think about what?"

"What do you think I mean? The team! You think we can win the conference?"

"Oh, right. Well yeah, I see a lot of potential. I don't know if we'll have any three-point threats, but this squad looks multitalented."

"I'm so excited! I really think we can make the playoffs, and I know you'll bring out the best in everybody, Dad."

"Thanks, honey," I said, then changing the subject. "Now what to do about your birthday?"

"You already got the hot tub; I don't expect anything else."

"That doesn't mean we don't celebrate. You wanna invite the team over?"

"Sure, but ..." she hesitated.

"Buuuuut what?"

"Well, you know some of the girls have boyfriends, and they might want to bring them."

One eyebrow raised up as I dared take my eyes off the road to look at her.

"It's not like Halloween. This isn't a sleepover, just some people coming to a party."

"Tell me something, Paige. What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Dad, you know I don't have a --"

"What's your boyfriend's name?"

"Spalding," she mumbled, her head drooping forward.

"That's right. You've got enough brains and basketball skill to go to college, so now is not the time to get distracted by boys."

"C'mon, Dad. It's just a birthday party, and you can be there to chaperone."

Eventually she wore me down. I agreed on the condition that the guest list be shorter than what we had for the sleepover.

As my daughter and I pulled into the driveway, all I could think about was what a disgraceful display I made today. It didn't matter that I was alone in the locker room -- it was still wrong.

How could I pull off coaching these girls for a whole season if I didn't pull it together?

I went to my desk and rummaged through my old Rolodex. Yes, any cell phone on the planet can hold phone numbers now, but mine was full of business cards that people handed me at furniture markets. It would take a lot of time and diligence to input all that into a digital address book, and I didn't want the bother.

Finding what I wanted, I called a former player.

"Heather, this is Henry Donaldson."

"Hey, Coach. I hear you're stepping up to the big time this season."

Small communities, gotta love 'em.

"That's why I'm calling. I don't have a shooter."

"Sorry, Coach. I'm afraid I used up my eligibility a few years ago."

"I remember. All-conference, leading three-point shooter. That's why I need you."

"For what?"

"To help me coach. I don't really have an assistant coach. I have a JV coach, but he's too busy with his own squad to help me. What do you say?"

"I've never coached a day in my life. You need somebody with some experience."

"Heather, what I need is someone who's been there, someone the girls can look up to. These ladies have a ton of potential, but the game still comes down to putting the ball in the hole."

It took some more doing, but eventually I convinced Heather to help me out. If she could take on some offensive duties, I could focus on defense. And having an adult female around would help me keep my mind on the bouncing balls, not the bouncing bras.

As for focusing on defense, I might need to do that at home, too, if some young punk was going to be hitting on my daughter.

I know I sound overprotective. And I'm not some prude that thinks she should be a virgin until she's 25 and married, but there are just so many pitfalls in life.

I think about that first day at college orientation when the dean threw out that old line.

"Look to your left and look to your right. One of these people will not be with you at graduation."

It sounded laughable at the time. We were going to get degrees and live the dream.

Then things started happening to our friends. One of them dropped out after his dad was caught by the IRS for cheating on his taxes. Bye bye, college savings.

A girl got knocked up, and wasn't even sure who the father was after a drunken orgy. She left school and moved back in with her parents.

And then there was the case of Tommy Jones. Tommy was an offensive lineman on our high school football team and earned a scholarship to college. He was no dumb jock, making the National Honor Society and talking about becoming an engineer.

Then Tommy met a fellow freshman and tumbled head over heels in love.

They were inseparable and seemed so happy together.

Then one day the girl decided that Tommy was getting way too serious, and she was still young and wanted to experience more of the college dating scene.

If I thought he fell hard in love, Tommy fell way harder out of love.

He began hunting up every party on campus, getting stinking drunk night after night. He stopped going to classes, was kicked off the team and had his scholarship revoked.

Was this an extreme example? Sure, but if it could happen to a levelheaded guy like Tommy, then it could happen to anyone.

Paige's birthday landed on a Thursday, so we held the party on Saturday.

And much to my chagrin, the house even more packed than Halloween. Only this time I couldn't hide out in the backyard because there were boys present.

Considering how hot Paige's teammates are, I took comfort in knowing that there were plenty of girls for the boys to look at instead of my daughter.

Still, it didn't take long to find one boy who couldn't keep his eyes off Paige. To make matters worse, I saw her glancing back at him from time to time.

I tried to run interference without seeming like I was.

I checked to see if people needed drinks. Everyone gotten some snacks? How about that football team going 7-4 this year?

A little after 8 p.m., I saw the front door open and the rest of the room faded out. Randi stepped in and shut the door behind her.

One of the girls called out to her, and Randi responded. Then as her eyes took in the crowd, she found me. I could feel a smile spread across my face, and I could see her own answer me.

Our eyes locked for what felt like minutes, but was probably only seconds before Lori interrupted our line of sight to give Randi a quick hug. The spell broken, I turned away quickly so I wouldn't be captured again.

A few minutes later I had an odd realization. Paige was stealing peeks at this unnamed boy the way I was with Randi. It felt surreal to be on an emotional parallel with my daughter at this point.

Paige walked over to the kitchen counter to pour some potato chips on a paper plate. I saw the mystery boy headed that way and made a move to intercept.

As I rounded a couple of gossiping girls, Randi slid right in front of me.

"Hi."

"Oh, hello Randi. It's good to see you again."

"Is it?"

"Is it what?"

"Is it good to see me? Because from where I'm standing, you can't keep your eyes off Ricky."

Now I was confused.

"Who is Ricky?"

"The guy that Paige has had a crush on for at least the three and half months I've known her."

"You mean Mr. Sour Cream and Onion over there?" I asked, nodding my head toward the mystery guy reaching for the potato chip dip. As I watched, the young man took the tablespoon and served a dollop onto Paige's plate.

"Yes, that's Ricky, and he seems to be a very sweet kid."

She slid a little to the side to get back in my way and then placed a hand on my chest.

At the touch of her fingers, my train of thought was derailed.

She nudged me in the chest, but I stood there dumbstruck. She gave a harder push that got me off-balance and I took a step back.

"Keep going, mister," she said, directing me backwards.

After a couple of steps, I bumped into a wall. Or as it turned out, my bedroom door.

She reached past my arm to turn the knob and then pushed me back through the frame.

When I was backed into the room, Randi stepped inside and shut the door silently behind her. She then leaned back against it.

"What are you doing?" I asked, suddenly feeling very nervous. "You can't come in here. People saw you come in here."

She smiled warmly. "Everyone was busy with the party. Nobody saw us come in here except Paige."

My daughter? I couldn't have Paige seeing an 18-year-old girl go into her father's room.

"Now I really know we can't be in here," I said, reaching out to pull her away from the door.

My right hand gripped her left bicep firmly, and I heard her inhale sharply. I immediately froze.

"Oh my god, did I hurt you?" I asked, looking at her arm. My eyes moved to her face, but it wasn't pain I saw. There was hunger.

My stomach flip-flopped as I watched her slowly shake her head no.

There was a clicking sound as I swallowed. My hand was still on her arm. My brain said to let go, but it took another five seconds before the hand finally complied.

"If Paige saw us come in here, then she's gonna think --" but the rest was cut off by a slender finger on my lips.

I took a breath, ready to try again at reasoning with her, but she cut me off.

"Shh, let me explain."

Her finger was still on my lips. I wondered what it would look like if Paige walked in on us right now. I stepped backward, but every fiber of my being screamed no. I wanted to move closer and pull her tight, but instead, I broke eye contact and turned to sit on the bed.

At the last second, getting on the bed seemed like a really bad idea, so I turned away and backed up against my drawer chest.

"Paige has liked Ricky for a long time, but she's never found the right situation to talk to him."

None of that explained why it was okay for us to be alone in my bedroom.

She must have sensed that I was about to speak again because she raised a finger in the air and took a step away from the door toward me.

"Paige works hard on her homework and in basketball practice. What free time she has is spent with her girlfriends -- or looking after her father."

"Looking after me? But --" Again the finger lifted, and Randi moved closer.

"She never says it, but I get the feeling that the reason she's never pushed you harder on getting to date is that she worries about leaving you alone."

I felt a sudden swell of love for my daughter. I turned my head and stared blankly at the closet door, lest she see the moisture forming in my eyes.

"I even think that's one of the reasons she's only considering colleges in a 300-mile radius.

"But she's 18 now, and she is drawn to this boy. And I was being serious, Ricky does seem like a sweet guy. If I were playing matchmaker, I couldn't have picked a better choice for her."

So many different emotions were rolling through me at once, it was becoming harder for me to keep up with what she was saying.

Was I denying my daughter a chance at happiness? At living her own life? Was I moping about the house? Is it because I still loved her mother so much? How could any man ask for a better child?

"We made sure that Ricky would come over, but Paige and Lori both texted me at work, saying you wouldn't give her any chance to talk. Lori had been trying to occupy you so the kids could talk, but you couldn't be deterred. They were looking for reinforcements. So, when I got off at 8 o'clock I came over."

Wait a second, what did she just say?

"Are you telling me the only reason you're here right now is so that Mr. Sour Cream and Onion can be out there with my daughter doing -- doing --"

She took another step forward and again put her finger to my lips.

"Doing what? Humping on the kitchen table? They are just getting to know each other."

I reached up and took her hand in mine.

"That's what I'm worried about. Getting to know her better."

"They are just talking. At the very best, maybe he gives her a kiss."

My eyes rose up from admiring our joined hands to her face.

"Hey, you do know she's a virgin, right?" Randi asked.

My face scrunched up like I'd bitten into a lemon. "Whoa, hey now..."

"She's a good girl, but I don't even know if she's been right and goodly kissed."

Right and goodly? What kind of teen-ager talks like that?

"So far, he's been smiling at her from across the room, and if that's all that happened the rest of the night, she'd probably be just fine. But now they are talking, she's on cloud nine."

I protested, "Yeah, but then things can progress."

"Sure, maybe they hold hands or have a kiss, but that's it. They are both too young and too inexperienced to go any further than that. It takes a long time to work up to having sex."

I started to say, "What would you know about teens having sex?" Then I remembered that she was only 18 herself and I had no idea if she'd ever lost her virginity.

"C'mere, sit," she ordered softly, leading me by the hand over to the bed.

I sat down, but she stood there, shifting her weight from foot to foot. I couldn't help but notice that my eyes were just below the level of her breasts, and they jostled inside her bra as she shifted.

"I started dating when I was 15. My mom didn't really like, but my dad was always away on business, so he wasn't there to put his foot down.

"There were guys who just wanted to get in my pants, and I had no interest in them. Sometimes I'd meet someone who seemed halfway worthwhile, but then I'd get bored with them eventually.

"And with Dad's job moving us around all over the country, I never spent enough time with any guy long enough to feel like it was okay to go all the way."

For the first time since Randi had moved into my way in the kitchen, my mind shifted away from Paige. I was caught up in Randi's story. I could see from this little crease that appeared between her eyebrows briefly that this was hard for her to talk about with me.

"Finally, I found someone fairly interesting. He was a junior at the local university, and he had experience in the bedroom. He was nice and smart and sexy, but even still I wasn't ready to get physical with him. Eventually we moved away, and I regretted not sleeping with him. I wanted to be with him, I wanted to make love, but I was hesitant and too tough to show him I was scared of getting hurt.

"So, in the next town we moved to, I met a cute guy at a coffee shop and ended up in bed with him within a week."

My eyes widened in surprise.

"I know, it was something of a shock to me, too. I think I was just so pent up over the college boy that I acted hasty."

"You see, I know Paige isn't going to rush into anything because she's mature and responsible, and because it takes a long time to work up to sex."

Randi came closer so that my face was nearly touching her T-shirt.

"There were times when I was kissing my boyfriend that he would reach up and cup my breast," she said, lifting a hand to caress my cheek. "At first I stopped him, but eventually it became harder and harder to resist."

My eyes were so close to her breasts that I could see when her nipples hardened, even through the material of her bra.

"Now here I am older and wiser, thinking I can control myself around any boy. And then I met you."

I looked up to find her gazing deeply into my eyes.

"You're smart and funny and caring, and when I'm around you I just want to touch you and hold you and kiss you."

Holding my head with both hands, Randi lowered her mouth to mine, and we were kissing for just the second time. A surge went through my crotch, and I realized that my cock already was pushing against my pants.

I reached up to pull her mouth tighter to mine, then I remembered we had 15 to 20 guests in the house.

"No, I can't. Paige --"

"— thinks you're showing me some guitar chords."

"But the door, if someone walked in ..."

"I locked it behind me as soon as I came in. I've been wanting this for weeks."

With that, she kissed me again while leaning in to push my head backward. As my torso drifted back to the bed, she followed, planting her hands on the quilt.

I crawled backward to get further on the bed, and she stalked after me on hands and knees like hungry feline.

She lowered a cheek to my shirt and rubbed herself across my chest, inhaling my aroma.

It was my turn to grab her face in both hands and pull her to my lips.

We couldn't get enough of each other, lips massaging lips and skin. She licked my neck and sucked gently as I squirmed.

I reached up and pulled her body down to mine so I could feel her breasts crushed against me, her hips against my pulsating cock.

I couldn't get enough. I needed more. I reached down and grabbed her perfect ass in both hands and squeezed her crotch against mine, arching up so she could feel my swollen length against her.

After a couple of minutes more kissing, she pushed up and sat down upon me.

She was too far away; I needed to pull her closer. But first she reached down and grabbed the bottom of her T-shirt. She pulled it up and over her head, revealing a lacy black bra. The kind of bra a woman wears when she is expecting to show it off later. I knew instantly that there was a sexy pair of panties to match under those jeans.

I couldn't decide if I would rather look at Randi in that sexy bra or hurry up and rip it off so I could see her perky breasts. She decided for me, reaching back to undo the clasp.

Leaving my left hand on her ass, I held my right hand around a breast and took in the sight.

Her skin was pale, the areola pink, but the nipple was erect and a darker, puce color.

I leaned up and took the nipple in my mouth, lapping at the nub as my lips wrapped around the entire areola.

She leaned down, allowing me to lie back and keep the nipple trapped between my lips.

Randi ground her hips down on mine until she could stand the teasing no more.

She pulled her breast free of my grasp and slid down the bed. She hastily unzipped my pants and began tugging them down. I lifted up to help her get them past my rear.

Then she carefully pulled the band of my underwear outward and over the end of my lengthening shaft.

Just as I lifted my hips again to help get the underwear down, Randi leaned in to slide the head into her mouth. The upward thrust caused a couple of extra inches to be crammed into her.

Rather than jerk back surprised, she growled and began to bob her head up and down on my cock.

I muffled a moan as her slippery tongue and lips touched me in a way I hadn't felt in several years. God, it had been so long.

She stopped bobbing and just held my swollen head in her mouth. I looked down to see why she stopped and found her left hand busily unfastening her own pants.

Jesus, this is really happening. She is going to make love to me.

With her pants unfastened, Randi shoved a hand into her panties and returned to pumping her mouth on my cock.

After half a minute, she pulled off with a pop and yanked her pants and panties down over her legs. I wanted to see her nude, but the way she was angled blocked my view.

Just as quickly as she undressed, Randi climbed back up the bed and kissed me passionately.

I reached down to feel a soft tuft of hair above her sex. Before my fingers had even explored south, I could feel the heat pulsing outward.

My tips found her lips, drawing a gasp from Randi. I rubbed up and down the slit before pulling the lips apart with my first and third fingers so my middle one could touch her clit.

A touch was all it took. She lurched violently, pulling away from my hand.

She slid her hips up and forward, dragging a wet pussy up the underside of my rod.