First, I would like to thank all of the readers who have followed my first story and have asked for additional chapters.
As a disclaimer, all persons involved in sexual activity (Sam and her father) are 18 years old or older. This was established in Chapter 1. Also, I recommend reading Chapters 1 and 2 before reading this for continuity.
I'd like to thank Ciguardian for editing this and helping me figure out some plot points!
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My wife's and son's return was met with the usual fanfare of hugs and cheers. They dragged into the house a little after 3:00 PM, and were pretty tired from the drive. Sam and I helped with the luggage and other detritus that was scattered throughout the van, rolling our eyes at each other and chuckling at how messy they could be in the car. We also took every chance we could to steal little kisses here and there.
Dinner wasn't anything fancy as they talked about their trip and how much fun they'd had. Dan was his usual quiet self, seemingly lost in thought for most of the meal. For our part, we explained what a boring and uneventful two weeks we experienced. Sam just gave me a little wink when no one was looking, smirking behind her fork.
"What is that you're wearing?" my wife asked at one point during the meal, looking at Sam's shiny new ring.
"Hmm? Oh, this?" she held up her hand. "It was Ma Mae's. I found it in the garage, and Dad said I could have it."
"Oh, okay." Brenda breathed a sigh of relief. "I thought you'd gotten engaged while we were gone!"
I managed to not choke on my water.
"I'm 18, mom." Sam reminded her, "Kinda young to get married!" she gave me the side eye and a sly grin when Brenda walked past her, sighing exasperatedly.
That night, as my wife and I lay in bed, she quickly turned the lights off and laid down with her back to me. I took a slow, deep breath and reached under the covers for her.
"Not tonight David; I'm exhausted." She said through a yawn.
"It's okay Brenda. Get some sleep."
A minute or two later and I could hear the deep, rhythmic breathing of her slumber. I guess she was telling me the truth. I was still wide awake and laying on my side, staring at her outline. She was still facing away from me. For all intents and purposes, I was alone in my bed and I have to admit part of me was relieved that she was so tired.
The past couple of weeks I had become used to a nearly nightly regimen of incredible sex with Sam followed by drifting off to sleep holding the most wonderful girl. I'm not sure if I could have properly performed; sex with Brenda paled in comparison to making love to Sam.
I gave up trying to sleep. Quietly I left the bedroom and went into the kitchen, grabbing a beer and going out onto the back deck. The night was still a little muggy, but a nice breeze kept it from getting too stifling. I stretched out on a lounge chair and just stared up at the stars. A hundred thoughts swirled through my mind. The inner voices argued back and forth, never reaching a conclusion but still arguing away. I had Congress in my head and the floor was open.
Slowly I came to the realization that I still loved Brenda, but I wasn't IN love with her anymore and haven't been for quite some time. And if we were both honest with each other, I was pretty sure she'd have to admit that she wasn't in love with me either. She was a smart woman. Kind. Generous. A good mother. A great friend. Over the years, however, we had become different people than the ones we married. Were we staying together just for the kids' sake? Were we that much a clichΓ©? Or was it because it was familiar? Comfortable? We had a routine. People like routine; what's familiar and comfortable. Change is not easy, and most people shy away from it.
As I sat there trying to figure all this out I heard the door open. Sam sat down beside me, a bottle of beer in her hand as well.
"This sucks." She said, plopping in to the lounge chair beside me and taking a drink from the bottle.
"Like I said, it's an acquired taste." I tried to inject a little humor.
"You know what I mean."
"Yeah..." was all I could say.
"How're we gonna handle this, Dad? It's just the first night, and it's killing me."
"I know, baby. We'll figure it out."
"That's what I keep telling myself. It's just hard to accept that right now. And..."
"And what?"
"Nothing."
"Sam, tell me."
"It's just... Well... I'm jealous, okay?" she looked away
"I know it isn't much consolation, but I really rather it'd be you there with me."
"Me too." She said, reaching for my hand. I took hers, holding her hand in between the chairs.
"So how was it?" Sam finally asked. I could hear the edge in her voice, asking a question she didn't want the answer to but for some reason was compelled to ask.
"Well." I said, trying to relieve her, "It wasn't."
"Seriously?" she asked incredulously