(A note to the reader. If you used "tags" to find this story, let me assure you that each will come into play during the course of the story.)
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Chapter One: "You Didn't Do Anything Wrong"
"Do you wanna fuck me?"
I spat a mouthful of orange juice all over myself and the breakfast table at her question. I looked quickly to the hallway, where my oblivious wife was busying herself with preparing to leave for the day.
I leaped up, retrieving a hand towel and wiping at the yellow stain on my dress shirt and slacks as I growled in a low whisper, "What the hell kind of question--"
"I see how you look at me."
As if it had been some sort of command, my eyes fell to Ally's wonderful form. She was a sexy, young woman, with a wild head of red framing the flawless, fair skinned face of a make up model; firm, gravity-defying "c" cup breasts sporting large, ever-hard nipples; a dramatic hour glass figure that included a flat belly and wide, rounded hips; and a pear-shaped ass leading to long, athletic legs that all men who'd ever seen them -- including myself -- surely dreamed of having wrapped around their lower body as they pounded hard and deep into the heavenly hole between them.
She was, in a word, a goddess.
And as I heard my daughter -- Ally's classmate and friend -- bounding down the stairs and into the kitchen, I reminded myself of what else this goddess was: a half-my-age teenage high schooler.
Beth stopped just inside the kitchen, shifting her gaze from me to Ally and back, asking, "Whatcha talking about."
"Nothing." My answer was quick and decisive and full of guilt, despite the fact that I hadn't said or done anything that I needed to feel guilty about. Of course, I HAD done something for which I PROBABLY should have felt guilty: I'd ogled Ally repeatedly over the three days that she'd been staying with us, culminating in fucking my wife last night with the energy and determination I hadn't had in ... well, a while.
Afterwards, as Lori and I both laid there gasping for air after our multiple orgasms, I was sure she knew I'd been fantasizing about the young, scantily clad beauty with whom her daughter had begged to have an extended 'sleep over'.
But Lori' hadn't said a thing, either out of concern for my answer or apathy about what drove me to be the animal I'd been. She'd only cuddled up next to me, told me I was magnificent, and drifted off for the most sound sleep she'd probably had in quite a while.
As Ally and Beth began ranting on about their plans for the day, I wiped the orange juice from the table, thankful that I didn't have to explain it to my daughter.
"We're gonna be late!" my wife called from the hall.
"Your dad's gonna give me a ride to the mall this morning."
I stood tall at the second shock of the morning. "I'm what...?"
"I'm not ready, and you're going to be late to class," Ally continued, ignoring both my shock and question. "We'll catch up at the coffee shop after last period."
Before I could even consider a response, Beth lunged at me, kissing my cheek, telling me thanks for playing chauffeur, and hollering after her mom, "Meet you at the car! Forgot my phone!"
My daughter rushed off up the stairs again, leaving me staring at her devilishly smirking friend.
"What are you doing?" I whispered.
"Getting you alone," she answered, not nearly as much a whisper as I'd wished it had been when...
I leaped at the feel of a hand on my ass, spinning to see my wife smiling to me.
"Dinner with the Pauls tonight. Don't forget. And after..."
Again I leaped as I felt her hand cup my groin. She pulled her hand back, wiggling her now sticky fingers.
"Orange juice!" I said quickly, my mind still wracked with illogical guilt. "I spilled my orange juice."
She went to the sink and washed her hands. She repeated, "The Pauls...?"
"Yeah, yeah. The guy with the snow mobiles and the 2013 Jag'."
Lori chuckled, kissed me, then leaned left to look at Ally. "Boys and their toys?"
She turned and hurried for the front door, calling for Beth to hurry.
Behind me -- in that same 'I don't care if they hear me' volume -- Ally said, "Do you need a new toy, Greg? Do you need ME to be your new toy?"
I didn't turn to look at her. Instead, I just continued staring down the main hall, watching Lori getting into her car. A moment later, Beth shot down the hall and out the door, flinging it shut behind her with a cheery, "Bye, Dad!"
A long moment passed in silence. I wasn't sure how to proceed. I was a married man alone with a young, sexy woman who I wanted to fuck, who knew that I wanted to fuck her and had no qualms over teasing me about it.
To make matters worse, my slacks were being pushed straight out before me by a rock solid erection that had snaked its way out of the fly of my boxers. My lust for Ally was about as definite as it could be, whether I wanted to deny it or not.
"You didn't answer my question."
A chill ran up my spine, and goose pimples covered my skin. I contemplated a moment, then half turned -- hiding my raging hard-on -- and lied, "No, I don't want to fuck you."
"You mean you want to fuck me, but you won't. Because you're married. Or ... because I'm your daughter's best friend ... your daughter's eighteen year old friend."
I answered her by turning away and heading for my bedroom. "I need clean clothes. Get your stuff together and I'll get you to the mall, or to where every you can find boys who need toys."
I laid out a fresh set of clothes on the bed and, as I began stripping the stained clothes sticking to my skin, I chuckled to myself. I hadn't had a woman -- let alone a teenage GIRL -- tease with me like that in almost two decades. Now, away from Ally and with Lori and Beth out of earshot, I found it a great deal more comical and almost complimentary than when I'd thought the conversation was going to be overheard, leading my wife to ask if we still had that lawyer on retainer.
My moment of levity was cut short, though, when the bedroom door opened and Ally -- now nude -- entered the room with a smile.
"My God..."
I had spoken the words without even realizing I'd parted my lips. As I'd believed, she truly was a goddess. There was nothing about her that wasn't perfect; even her curly red bush was trimmed neatly -- not shaven clean away -- like I'd so often begged my wife to do, back when we were more regularly having sex with one another.
"Beth said you kept in shape," Ally said, she now being the one doing the ogling. "But she didn't say you were a rock hard babe."
I wasn't, of course. I had a bit of what my wife liked to call 'winter insulation' covering much of my torso. But daily exercise and a membership on an adult City League basketball team had kept my physique in almost the same shape that had driven the girls in high school nuts, prior to my knocking up my wife and bringing about the true adult portion of my life.
Again, without realizing I'd opened my mouth, I responded, "Thank you."
THANK YOU?? my brain screamed! You're a married man with a semi-erect dick hardening quickly, aching to be deep inside the naked teenage girl coming to you, and you're saying 'Thank you'...? What the fuck are you doing?
