All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old.
*****
Kristy stepped through the swinging kitchen door and said, "Hi! I got to thinking a GOOD guest is a USEFUL one... Can't I help in some way?" The 22-year old vixen's words, and her siren's sweet voice, drilled through Claude's reverie, 39 years later, in a dark motel room at 4:30 in the morning on Memorial Day, 2006.
He was listening to the soft slumbering breaths of his 18-year old niece, Nel Martin and her mother, Sally. They lay, proudly pregnant by Claude's seed, dreaming of their futures, while he, uprooted from his own pleasant dreams by a vision of his long dead deceitful father, sat replaying the nearly two dozen sexual interludes Claude and his 40 year-old mother, Carla, enjoyed in that fateful week leading up to Father's Day. "Which load of sperm contained the winning swimmer? When did Carla's fecund egg launch? Did it wait for a lone champion or was it ambushed by scuffling seeds in a winner-take-all battle?" Claude was pondering the imponderable, gazing on his beautiful daughter and granddaughter, when Kristy's words returned on her voice from Saturday night, June 18, 1977. "Hi! Can't I help in some way?"
*
Carla turned smiling from the refrigerator where she had just parked the roast beef left over from dinner. Looking at the petite grad student in her high heels and knit mini-dress she again thought how cute she was. Carla pointed to a hook behind the door frame. "Well, if you insist, but it really isn't necessary," she said, "There's an apron hanging there so you can protect that darling dress." The provocatively scooped neckline, the broad contrasting band of color across Kristy's bust and at the hem, and, of course, her obvious lack of a bra, were not lost on Carla. "Go stand with Claude at the disposal. You can help him scrape and load the dishwasher. That'll be a big help, thank you!"
Kristy followed Carla's direction and stood, hip-by-hip, next to Claude. He was 18, just graduated from San Marino High School, and, by any account, was a very good looking young man. Swimming and water polo had packed major muscles onto his 6'3" 210 pound athletic frame. His cleft chin, steely eyes, open face and wavy medium brown hair were only enhanced by his easy smile and agreeable nature.
By contrast, Kristy looked like a sprite next to Claude. She was 5'3" tall at the sink, but only thanks to her high-heels. Flat-footed, her 90 pounds were distributed, with an alluring 32B-20-30 figure, across a mere 5'. She had been a better-than-average gymnast, specializing in the floor exercises. She was stronger, fitter, than a casual observer of her narrow shoulders and petite build might think.
Claude found her attractive and distracting. Her short copper red hair smelled wonderful. He had a hard time not taking advantage of his viewpoint to stare down her neckline at her unholstered tits swelling beneath her form-fitting acrylic knit dress behind the full cotton duck apron she had pulled from the hook. He compromised and stared at her reflection in the window over the double sink. It was imperfect, but had the advantage of being less obvious.
Claude's right hip was getting hot from Kristy's proximity and he struggled to will his cock to quit throbbing. "Shrink, Please!" He yelled silently as he felt his dick bump the edge of the sink. It was secure in his Jockey briefs but, that only added to his discomfort as it kept thickening. Carla came up behind him and threaded a half-apron between his belt and the counter. Tying it in back she said evenly, "Here, honey, wear this, please. I don't want to have to get... uh, gravy stains... out of your nice slacks." She turned her face to Kristy, smiled and exclaimed, "Boys! What's a mother to do?" Then she walked back through the kitchen door to the dining room to gather the rest of the service and dishes.
On her return Carla stepped between Claude and Kristy and placed a hand on their outside shoulders. "We have a bit of a problem and I want to get your input," she said, in a low conspiratorial voice. "Ben has had more to drink than is safe for driving and I would really prefer not to go out myself, tonight... So," Carla looked at Claude, "YOU can take Kristy home when she wants to go..." she swiveled her head to the young woman and quickly added, "But there's no rush, dear, you may stay as long as you wish. We're like family..." Carla smiled and gave her a quick squeeze before continuing, "OR... you can just... spend the night here. We have two spare bedrooms, always made up, and it would be no trouble at all!"
"Oh my goodness, Carla," Kristy hastily replied, "That's so thoughtful! I don't see how I could impose on you like that, though."
"Nonsense and piffle!" Carla snorted. "Believe me, if I thought you were an imposition I would not have suggested the idea. I'm not pushing it, mind you, if you want to sleep in your own bed, then I have no doubt Claude will want to take care of you... But we have all the amenities here if you like." Carla turned away and said, "I'm going to check on Ben. Whatever you kids decide is 'OK' with me."
When she left the kitchen for the second time, the young people stared at each other. Kristy shrugged her shoulders and made a moue. "Well, it would probably be a bigger hassle for you to drive me home tonight than for me to just stay." She turned her palms up, held her arms out from her side and dipped her shoulders. "I guess I should stay."
Claude misunderstood the body language and impulsively kissed Kristy briefly on the lips as he stepped inside her arms and exuberantly hugged her against his chest. Even through the dress, the thick apron front and his own shirt, her hard nipples and soft breasts seared his pectorals. He quickly let go and stepped back.
"Wow!" Kristy said, breathlessly, "That was some 'Welcome to my house hug'!"
Claude blushed and stammered, "S-s-sorry. I don't know why..."