Katie & Co...
"Is dad really a nerd?"
Although I was out of the direct sightline of my wife, my daughter, and her friends, I still heard the question. I was working on a project. I was always working on a project. But when I heard Katie ask, I closed my laptop and turned my attention to them, because I had to hear the answer.
"Of course, he's a nerd, baby. But, in a good way."
Even if it were true, my wife's answer didn't make me feel any better about myself.
"What makes him a nerd?" Katie wasn't letting this go.
At forty years old, Sarah, my wife was just as hot as any of the girls sitting with her by the pool. Dressed in a black two-piece suit, she got up from the lounger and walked over to the oversized bucket of ice that was stuffed with chilling bottles of White Zinfandel. Uncorking what I'm certain wasn't the first bottle of the day, she walked to each of the three girls and topped them up.
"Have you ever saw your father play golf?" Mother asked daughter.
"No. He hates golf."
"Does he play any other sport? Does he even watch sports on T.V.?" She was weaving a nerd trap for our daughter.
Katie took a sip of her wine and pondered the question.
"No, not really, I guess."
"You guess? I've been married to your father for nineteen years and guess what? The only sport that he has ever played, was when he took you and your friends bowling for your fourteenth birthday party, and guess what? He complained about it for two weeks afterwards."
The trio of eighteen-year-old girls all chuckled. They were all there. They have all been the best of friends since their very first day of school.
"Okay mom. So, he may not like sports, but that doesn't make him a nerd. Give me another reason." Katie asked.
"Another? Honey, I can give you twenty." Once again, the girls chuckled. "Does you father own any tools?" Kate just shook her head "no" and waited for her mother to continue. "Of course, he doesn't."
"Mom..."
"Does he cut the grass or clean the pool? Of course, he doesn't, but neither do you or I. Hell, we don't even own a lawnmower. Look at this house. Neither of your grandparents gave us money. Nope. This is all your father. He works his ass off, but have you ever kissed him goodbye when he leaves for work?"
Katie giggled and took another sip of her wine. I felt bad listening to their conversation, but I was entranced by it.
"Well?"
"No mom. Does he even have a place to go to with an office?"
"If he did, it would be a waste of space. We've all snuck into "Mission Control" at one time or another. He does all of his programming and trading from there. Says that he doesn't need to go into the office, ever."
"So, just because he works a lot doesn't automatically make him a nerd."
"No. No, it doesn't. It's not the amount of work, it's the content of the work that he does that puts him in the "nerd" category. I'd bet a million dollars that he could spend a month explaining to each of you what he does, and you still wouldn't understand. I don't. But you never hear me complaining. We drive nice cars. Live in a huge, beautiful house and we go to great places."
"You were a cheerleader. You were smoking hot in high school and could have picked any guy. What made you pick dad?" I perked up to that. I wanted to hear the answer to my daughter's question.
"What do you mean by "were"?" Sarah ran her hands down the sides of her breasts, over her stomach, and cupped the cheeks of her firm ass. Crooked her leg so that it pointed away from her body, causing the girls to roar with laughter. "Your dad still thinks I'm hot."
"Mom, maybe you're the nerd." Sarah made a sour face and picked up the wine bottle. Another round of refills. It looked like all the girls would be staying over again this weekend. "Tell us, what drew you to him?"
Without a second of hesitation Sarah shared with her daughter and her friends.
"He is definitely not athletic, but he is devilishly handsome. When all the jocks only wanted one thing, he liked me for me. He was honest, smart and he could always make me laugh."
"When did you know he was the one?" Katie pried.
Cautiously, I peeked my head around the corner. I didn't want the girls to see me, but I wanted to see what Sarah was about to say. Her back was to me. Her voice lowered, making it tougher for me to hear.
"At a lake party. Betsy Paul's parents had a huge cottage and she invited ten or twelve couples for an overnight bonfire. We went as friends, but we both drank some warm beer from a keg that someone brought, and...well...the rest is history."
"You knew he was the one, because you had some beer together?"
"No...it was...he had...let's just say, he had hidden talents."
"Like..." From behind, I watched as Sarah spread her hands and the girl's eyes widen, and their mouths opened. "Oh my god, mom."
Sarah screamed and put her hand over her face.
It was time for me to stop eaves dropping. I walked away from the corner of the house, and I could feel the hardness in my pants.
I remember the night by the lake like it was yesterday. The memories were etched in my mind with vivid details. An extremely hot girl was taking a couple of blankets out of a basket and grabbing my hand. She pulled me down the sandy shoreline until we came to a large old boat that had seen better days. Both of our eyes glued to the other as we stripped down and found a spot on the old wooden floor.
Sarah's naked body was next to me. I remember her pulling my inexperienced hand to her firm breast, until the touch of my fingers wasn't enough. Then, I can still see her rising up so that she could move her nipples to my mouth. "You can suck them." She told me. "A bit harder. Yes, just like that, suck it hard. Now, lick them in circles." The instructions that she gave taught me a lot. It may have seemed like she was being bossy, but she was only letting me know how she liked her titties to be suckled, and I had no issues with doing as hold.
I could still see how her shiny blonde hair reflected the water and moon, as it covered my face and her lips touched mine. The memory of her soft hand grabbing the back side of my hand. Pushing it slowly down. Over her hard belly. Lower and lower until the tips of my fingers touched the soft curly carpet that lay like a welcome mat at the doorway to heaven.
Sarah's tongue moved in time with mine. I could feel the heat radiating up from her pussy. It was calling to me. It was begging me to pay attention to it. Who was I not to oblige? Sarah pushed just slightly, and it was all that I needed. My fingers parted the fleshy wetness of her lower lips as I ran my fingers back and forth through the furrows of her pussy. Gathering wetness and bravery. I could feel the hard nub of her clit pushing at me. Using my hand, I strummed it over and over until I risked putting a finger inside of her. Sarah's butt lifted off the floor of the old wooden rowboat and pushed up to my hand.
"Do it. It's okay. I like it." She told me as I inched digit into her.
Wrapping her hand around my shaft, and slowly pumping, I let my finger bury to the hilt in her.
Slowly pushing my middle finger in and pulling it out, I thought that this was the best night of my life.
Those thoughts continued to reboot. Every few seconds I thought that it couldn't get any better than what was happening I that moment, but to my surprise, it did. Sarah turned. Taking her hand off of my cock, she switched up and put it into her mouth. The most beautiful girl in our school or maybe even on the entire planet, had my cock in her mouth.
The next few seconds flew by me in a blur. I didn't even realize that she was moving until her leg had swung over my head. I had gone from staring up at the stars to gazing at her slit. It was the first real view of a pussy, and this pussy was lowering to my face like an asteroid crashing into earth. The only difference was it was me that exploded.
It was sensory overload. As soon as Sarah's pussy touched my mouth, I started to cum. I was licking her for all I was worth, and she continued to suck me. Not once did she chastise me for not warning her or give my hell for not knowing what I was doing in her southern regions. Nope. She swallowed everything that I gave to her and only gave me positive affirmation on what I was doing.
"Flick it faster baby. That feels really good when you lick it. Yes, keep doing that."
I knew that "It" was her clit, and doing anything that she wanted, wouldn't be a problem. I flicked it. I licked it. And when I sucked it between my lips, I sent her on a ride. Sarah came with a scream. I was so new at what I was doing that I was unsure if she actually enjoyed it, but the thickening juice that coated my tongue gave me indicators that she had.
My fingers and mouth were soaked with the slime from her meaty lips. My cock was like a piece of granite. It was waiting. Waiting for her. Waiting to see if the night was over, or just getting started.
Sarah turned so that she could kiss me. I didn't like the idea of her kissing me with a mouth full of my cum, but it didn't seem to bother her, so I went with it.
Spinning again, she stopped when she was aligned above me. The nervous lip biting told me that Sarah was worried. But there, in an old boat, beached on the sandy shores of a calm lake, on a warm, stary summer night, she lowered herself down and made me a man.
"Holy fuck Steve, I feel so full." Her head on my chest as if trying to think what to do next.
Yes, that's me. Steve. Husband. Father, and apparently, nerd.
"Baby? Baby? Steve, Jesus Christ. Where did you go?"
"What?" I jumped when I heard someone speaking.
Shocked out of my daydream I turned toward the voice. Sarah was standing with her hand on her hip. Still in her bathing suit, but now wearing an oversized floppy hat.
"I've been looking everywhere for you. I don't understand why you like it out here so much."
