Note to readers: The story below and subsequent chapters involves open relationships between consenting adults, including incest. Everyone involved is 18 or older. If you don't enjoy stories that involve incest then you should probably find something else to read. Thanks to Daddysgirlfl for editorial support!
Hi, my name is Tom, Tom Brostwin.
I'm 40 years old, 6'1", I workout to stay in shape, so I'm a strong lean 200 lbs.
My family consists of me and my 20 year old daughter Heather. I've been a widower and single parent since Heather was 12. Helen, her mother, and the love of my life, left our lives suddenly, 8 years ago, when her car skidded out of control in a blizzard.
Heather is a beautiful young woman with long blonde hair, electric blue eyes, and an ever-present smile. She is 5'6" tall, has lucious soft lips, 36C tits, a narrow waist, an amazing ass, and a cleanly shaved soft plump pussy that tastes like pineapple. It also swells and blossoms when she is aroused.
Heather tricked me into having sex with her when she turned 18, and since then we have been passionate lovers. Perhaps I'll write that story some day.
I've been blessed with a cock that most women consider "large". When fully erect, it is 8 inches long and nearly 2 inches in diameter. I believe that a healthy sex life is essential to the happiness of all humans. Heather feels the same, and she and I ensure each other's happiness whenever we can.
Here is a list of the four families in the neighborhood.
Mike and Molly have just moved in with me and Heather.
This may help until you get to know them:
Howard, Hannah, Holly, Hugh
Paul, Kristen (Krissy), Patricia (Trixie), Dan
Tim, Melissa, Victoria (Tory), Rick
Keith, Suzie, Katherine(Kate), Sam
Molly, the professor, and Mike, Molly's son
Please read Chapters 1-6 first - and Thanks to all who made me a Favorite and especially to those who took time to Vote and Comment.
The New Neighborhood Ch. 07 - Magazine Sales Girl
Mike, Heather and all of the other neighborhood girls are back at the University.
Molly is away at an academic conference. She went with another female professor and hoped to hook up with well-hung attendees.
I was taking a lunch break from work, and just about to sit down to eat, when there was a knock on the front door.
I checked the door cam, and saw a young woman waiting patiently for me to answer. I didn't recognize her as any of the girls from the little cul-de-sac, but I was curious to find out what she wanted.
So I set my lunch aside and walked out to the front hall. "Hi, can I help you with something?"
"Hi, my name is Claire and I'm selling magazine subscriptions," she began, while trying to act confident and in control, and looking like a scared rabbit.
"May I come in and show you what I have to offer?" She continued while smiling and looking directly into my eyes.
I scanned her quickly from head to toe. Her shoulder length blonde hair lacked shine. Her bright blue eyes lacked sparkle. Her floral print blouse and her pleated skirt were a bit wrinkled and she was wearing a backpack that was stuffed full and weighing her down. Something about her selling magazines didn't ring true. I was curious to find out more about her story.
"Please come in," I invited.
"Wow! This house is amazing," she gasped as we moved from the foyer to an open area with the kitchen on the right, a large living area on the left, and a swimming pool beyond the living room,outside a moveable wall of glass, but also enclosed for year round swimming.
"You're not really selling magazines are you?" I asked with a gentle laugh.
"Actually, I'm not," replied Claire nervously.
"I need to make money and all I have to offer is me!" She added, while trying to sound chipper and smile.
"How old are you?" I asked, thinking she might be a minor, and kicking myself for inviting her into my house.
"I turned 18 two days ago," sighed Claire, on the verge of tears.
'And now she's offering me herself to make money?' I asked myself
"I'd like to help you, but I can't unless you agree to answer some questions. You need to be completely honest, and if I think you're lying, then you'll have to leave." I explained clearly, with empathy.
"OK, mister, I don't know what to do," she admitted as tears slid slowly down her cheek.
I'd only known this girl for a few minutes and my heart was aching.
"Would you like something to eat? And please call me Tom," I replied calmly with a smile
"Yes please, Sir, I mean Tom," she sniffled and smiled weakly.
"Take off your backpack and have a seat at the counter."
I served up half the bacon, avocado and tomato sandwich that I had made for myself along with a small bowl of soup and a glass of freshly brewed iced tea.
By the time I sat down her sandwich was gone.
"Claire, when was the last time you ate?"
"Two days ago," she replied while rapidly spooning soup into her mouth.
I watched her eat and gave her the other half of the sandwich.
When her appetite seemed sated, I continued to ask questions to better understand the backstory of this magazine selling waif.
"I don't mean to pry, but what happened?" I asked compassionately.
"Thank you for the food Tom. It was kind of you, but I should go."
"You may leave whenever you choose, but if you tell me what brought you here, I may be able to help."
"When I turned 18, my mother and her boyfriend threw me out of the house," she sighed.
"It was a complete surprise. I packed what I could into my bag and I've been wandering the streets since then."
"And you've had nothing to eat?"
"I have no money. I tried to steal some food but I just couldn't do it."
"So Claire, where did you get the idea for selling magazines?" I asked as I was genuinely perplexed.
"I don't know how to get a job, and I remembered a young woman coming to the door one day to sell magazines. My mother's boyfriend gave her $20 for a blow job. I know it sounds stupid but I needed to do something," said Clare dejectedly, and holding back her tears.
"Have you graduated from high school?"
"No, I have to take summer school classes in English and Math, and then I can get my diploma," she smiled.
"I have a proposal for you. And don't feel pressured to accept it."
Claire looked at me nervously and whispered, "Oh, Oh, OK."