Time with Annie
The last time my adult daughter, Annie, met the woman I was dating at the time, it did not go well.
(See A Visit to Tinseltown pt 05.)
With Jan visiting Los Angeles, I thought it might be best to do things a bit more formally. I invited Annie to join us for dinner at my home.
As the time grew closer, Jan closed herself in the bedroom for over an hour. I knew she was debating what to wear. All of the swelling was gone, as were the bandages, exposing the closed dry stitches above her eye and across the top of her right breast. The thin plastic splint on her left forearm was the only serious external remnant of her trauma.
"I decided I want to make a statement," Jan said as she emerged from the hallway.
My breath escaped in a rush. "You succeeded."
Jan wore a silver dress that reflected her white hair. The cowl neckline draped low over her large, swaying tits. When she turned, I saw the fabric opened to a plunge down her bare back almost to her butt. The dress was slit on one side up past her hip. I couldn't tell you who designed her shoes, but they made her legs look even more fabulous. Her lipstick was flawless.
I was in jeans and plaid.
When we heard Annie let herself in exactly on time, I was at the stove so Jan made it to the door before I did. I heard them introduce themselves and complement one another on their clothes. They walked into the kitchen, Jan was saying, "I hope that outfit wasn't just for my benefit."
"In fact, it was entirely for your benefit," Annie replied.
"I'm flattered. You look sexy as hell. Can I fix you a drink?"
"G&T if he has it."
I heard "sexy as hell" and looked up.
And promptly dropped the spoon in the pot I was stirring.
In her early 40s, Annie was almost 5-foot, 10-inches. She had wavey brown hair that she inherited from me along with her height. Her ample bosom and fuller hips duplicated her mother; my first wife.
Her shirt suggested the country-western style without being tacky. Deep purple with long sleeves, a single line of silver rhinestones traced the angular yoke above her breasts. A white lace bra was peeking between the three open buttons.
Her pants were painted on. Shiny black with a wide belt buckle. The rhinestone theme repeated, running in a single line down the outside of each leg. The pants ended in 1/2-inch cuffs, slightly above the short boot-style heels.
OK, maybe a little tacky, but that did not stop the uncomfortable growth in my pants.
"Hi, Dad." she gave me a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before pointing to Jan. "A vast improvement. You are so out of your league, old man. 'Scuse me." A kiss on the other cheek and she was walking down the hall toward the bathroom.
Jan put her arm around my waist. "A vast improvement over what?" she asked with a smile.
"Carmella."
"Oh, yeah? I'm liking Annie more and more." She watched my daughter stop at the bathroom door. Annie turned, smiled, and cocked her hips toward Jan before stepping out of sight and closing the door.
Jan smiled, "Hm. I think I remember Carm mentioning an Elektra complex?"
I wrapped an arm around Janice, pulling her firmly into my chest. I tried to sound stern. "You keep your dirty mind to yourself, young lady."
"You didn't tell me she was so fuckable."
"Keep your hands off my daughter. I know where those hands have been."
"Or what, Lover?" She ran the fingers of her right hand along the large lump at my crotch. "You'll turn me over your knee and use this on me?"
We heard the bathroom door open and I quickly turned toward the stove, trying to hide the evidence of my arousal.
Annie was twirling an empty toilet roll around her finger. "All out, Dad. None in the cabinet, either."
"Oh, crap."
"Not this time, but the night is young."
I turned the heat off under the pot. "OK, I'll make a quick run to the convenience store."
"Oh, and if you're going out," Jan added, "Maybe some Parmesan cheese?"
"And more gin."
I grabbed my keys. "OK, ladies, stop. I'm a guy. If there's more than three things, I'll have to make a list." Then counting on my fingers, "TP, gin, and Parmesan."
"Fresh grated."
As I closed the front door behind me, I heard Jan ask, "How much gin is left?"
With the addition of Parmesan (fresh grated), I had to go a couple miles down the road to the full grocery. The only parking was at the far side of the lot, so it took a few minutes to walk into the store. I knew where they stocked the toilet paper and the gin. I grabbed a new bottle of bourbon while I was in that section, though I knew the one at home was nearly full. But I had to ask someone where to find fresh Parmesan.
The line at the register was long, so I broke my personal rule and used the self-checkout. When I scanned the booze, the screen asked for proof of legal age. I dug out my driver license, which refused to scan. After several BEEP BEEP BEEPs, a store employee sauntered over to ask what the problem was. She scanned my license several times with the same non-result. Finally she read the year, and punched in some sort of code that cleared the purchase. She shrugged. "Policy."
I walked back to my car, put the bag in the trunk, and headed for home, hoping the 45 minutes without heat had not ruined the sauce.
When I walked in the door carrying the bag, I found the sauce was not a big concern.
Jan was standing in the center of my living room, with my daughter Annie kneeling behind her, licking the bare skin at the base of the plunged back. Annie had one hand under Jan's dress and the other down the front of her own, open pants. Her shirt was nowhere in sight and the white lace bra contrasted with her tanned skin, allowing a glimpse of large dark nipples like her mother's.
When Jan saw me, she stopped moaning and rocking her hips, presumably on my daughter's long fingers. "Hello, Lover."
Annie turned suddenly. "Dad! Shit! You're home already." She reflexively covered the front of her lace bra with her hands; one still dripping from her pussy. This left her pants open and halfway down her hips, revealing a hairless labia.
I glanced at the empty gin bottle and half-empty bourbon bottle on the coffee table.
"How much have you two had to drink?"
Annie looked at the empties and shrugged sheepishly.
"It's my fault, Lover," Jan turned to face Annie, lifting her thumb to trace the taller woman's eyebrow. I noticed my daughter shiver. "Annie was saying how much she disliked her big tits and asked how I dealt with the horny boys in school."
Jan's hand brushed across the front of Annie's bra. Annie bit her lower lip.
"I told her my boobs were a later addition," she caught Annie's hand and slid it under the draped neckline to her breast.
Annie glanced at me and nervously hissed, "Jan," but I could see her fingers moving along Jan's nipples under the slick fabric.
"She said she often felt unattractive," Jan spread her fingers across one lace-covered tit, pressing firmly and dragging her fingernails along Annie's nipples. "She realized boys were obsessed with her 'jugs' as they called them and that no one would want to simply make love to her." Jan reached around closing her fingers on the bra clasp. "I said I would do her, if she'd let me."
Jan unhooked the clasp with practiced skill. Annie pulled her hands from Jan to hold the bra covering her breasts.
Jan pinned me with her eyes. "Want to watch, Lover?"
She stood on her toes, pulling Annie down to kiss her mouth. I could see their cheeks bulge as both tongues explored each other.
I sat on the recliner, setting the bag on the floor before lifting out the bourbon.
Annie groaned into the kiss, wrapping both arms around Jan, letting her bra fall to the floor. Pressed tightly as they were, I could only see the sides of Annie's fully tan breasts as they squished against Jan's collar bone. I took a long slug, right from the bottle. After a moment, Annie broke the kiss, turning just her head toward me.
"ONLY watch," she emphasized. "No touching me, no lewd comments, or gestures that will make this any weirder than it is."
I grinned at my daughter. "It is pretty weird, sweetheart."
"See? Right there." She turned toward me, shaking her index finger. "Always with the glib remark."
"Annie," Jan tried to interrupt her, but it was no good.
"Always trying to be oh so respectful, but I know you're ogling my tits or staring at my fat ass,"
"Annie."
"All the time wondering what it would be like to fuck me or have me suck your dick,"
"Annie."
"WHAT?" She spun toward Jan, refocusing her fury.
Jan put her hands on my daughter's shoulders. "You're flashing your father."
Annie looked down at her big tits. A dark pink blush ran up her chest, contrasting with her deep brown nipples; already hard and long, like her mother's. Her pants had worked their way over her hips and were clinging mid-thigh. I noted the lack of any tan lines on her smooth mons that shimmered with pussy juice and sweat.
I took another drink.
"Come, Annie. Sit down." Jan led her to the sofa. I did sneak a glimpse of her tight butt and, again, no tan line. I imagined my daughter laying nude in the sun by my pool.
Before sitting down, Annie turned back to me and shook her finger again.
"Only watching," she said menacingly.
Jan sat Annie's bare butt on the couch, then knelt to remove her shoes and pants. Annie had given up any attempt at modesty, spreading her legs wide, defiantly exposing her bare pussy lips.
I was ogling again.
Jan gently closed Annie's legs. "Let's not prod the bull, sweetheart. You are beautiful, sexy, and naked." Jan undid the clip under her hairline. "It must be my turn."
The dress fell loose. She kicked it away with a pointed toe and rested her hands on her hips, proudly displaying her large boobs and pink protruding nipples. The worst of the bruising had faded to a soft yellow and Jan displayed her body proudly.