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I’ve always thought of myself as a regular kind of guy. I was raised in the fifties and sixties. I managed to escape being drafted through a set of unusual circumstances, so my life went on undisturbed by military service.
I married the first time hastily. We were divorced two years later. My second marriage lasted fifteen years and brought two daughters into my life. My third marriage, to Sheila, brought two more daughters into my life, though they were seventeen and twenty when I met them. By the time I met Sheila I was 52 (she was 40) and I had finally worked up the courage to explore my lifelong fascination with being a naturist and nudist. For most of my life I had to pursue the interest alone, whenever I could get out into the woods or along a sheltered (and deserted) stream or lake. Neither of my first two wives was interested in the idea. I finally visited a nude resort the year before I met Sheila.
I spend most of my time at home in the nude. Sheila was okay with that — well, she was more than okay with it, since she joined in much of the time — and we didn’t plan to make a secret of our interest in that lifestyle with her daughters.
Randi, the older daughter, lived across the country from her mother and me. She had an apartment with her boyfriend and was working part time while she finished college. Her sister Jessie came to live with us shortly after I married her mother. She bemoaned moving so far away from her friends, but she adjusted quickly. She and I got to be good friends and we’ve been close ever since.
The nudity thing wasn’t much of a problem with Jessie. The first time she saw me naked was accidental. The phone rang in the middle of the night and she got to it before I ran into the room naked and still half asleep (I made a rapid retreat.). It was her mom calling from Dallas where she was attending a conference. Once she got off the phone she came into my room and we talked about it. She was okay with it, though she expressed a reluctance to make it part of everyday life. So I still was a little more careful than usual since she was so young and I didn’t want to make her think I was flashing her or anything.
The geography made it difficult for me to get to know Randi. We talked on the phone a few times but that’s pretty limited. She came to visit when Jess graduated from high school. Then, seven months after that, we flew back to Michigan at Christmas the next year so I could meet Sheila’s parents. Jessie was going to college there by then, and Randi came from North Carolina to spend some holiday time with her mother and grandparents. I had an opportunity to have some good conversations with Randi and it really warmed my heart to find that Jessie had missed me.
The next time I saw Randi was after her college graduation the following December. We had only been able to afford one ticket from Montana to North Carolina so naturally Sheila went to witness Randi’s proud moment. Sheila brought Randi home with her for a visit. During that visit she found me naked one morning when she came downstairs earlier than I had expected. She handled it well.
“Jessie told me I was gonna see you naked, Dan,” she said, crossing the kitchen to the sink where I was making coffee. “I’m glad you didn’t disappoint me. Now I really feel like I’m accepted.” She punctuated her comment with a laugh and a brief squeeze of my shoulder. She glanced down for a peek at my dick. “Mom told me you shaved like she and Jess and me. I guess you must like it, huh?”
I finished pouring the water into the coffeemaker and turned around. “You’ve been accepted from Day One,” I told her. “And, yes, I do like it. I especially like the way it feels during sex.” She grinned and acted as if nothing was out of order and I relaxed, even though I was naked and she had on sweat pants and a tee shirt. Then she wrapped her arms around my chest and we hugged. We hugged a lot, but it felt weird to be naked and hugging this pretty 20-something, but it felt great, too.
When Randi left she gave me an even greater hug than she’d ever given me. I was sorry to see her go, but her fiancé was waiting and she wanted to spend the actual holidays with him.
The next year, Sheila and I moved from Montana to Nevada because her employer transferred her. Since I am disabled it doesn’t matter where I live. Jessie moved to Florida (they had other family there) after spending a year in college in Michigan. She met a guy there, fell in love and they muddled through a couple of years of trying to go to school and work before they got pregnant and then married.
Sheila got to see her first grandchild before she died. She had been having health problems for years so it wasn’t really a surprise. After the funeral Randi and Jess stayed in contact with me and I was glad of that.
Randi eventually outgrew the fiancé she had when I met her and married an older guy, Tony, who was in the same field of work she was. They worked long hours and finally reached a point where they could open their own business. They sold systems gaziantep vip escort to monitor environmental control stations in manufacturing plants.
Over the next few years I managed to get together with Randi and Jess — either together or apart — about as much as I was able to get together with my own older daughter. My younger daughter was too young when I divorced her mom to bond very well with me. Instead she followed her mom’s script for her. She pretty much disowned me and we grew apart. The asshole her mother married became her “dad”.
Well, to get back to the story, Tony had to spend a lot of time on the road and it was on one of those trips that he was struck by an out of control eighteen wheeler and died on the way to the hospital. He left behind a healthy business, a decent insurance policy, and a wife who was six months pregnant with their first kid.
I suggested to Randi that she move to Las Vegas to live with me. Maybe it was the shared grief as much as our mutual affection that caused her to decide to sell the business and take me up on the offer. A month after Tony’s death she was on her way to Vegas. She was definitely feeling the desert heat when I met her at the airport. The sweat was running down her forehead and she looked wasted. The hug was difficult because of her protruding belly. I rubbed it and grinned at her. She looked like she was about to cry.
I got her into the car and then settled in at my house with a cold glass of iced tea. After she had showered and changed into a light sundress she looked better. In fact, I thought she looked great.
Randi had always resembled her mother when she was younger. Pictures I have of Sheila when she was in her mid twenties show her as a slender — almost too skinny, but sexy — woman with brown hair and small, almost nonexistent breasts. Randi had looked like that when I met her.
Pregnant Randi had grown a pretty sizeable rack, however. She set her glass on the coffee table and reached behind her, scrunching up her pretty face as she obviously unhooked her bra. “Whew!” she groaned, “That’s so much better. I don’t know how those women with huge tits stand wearing one of those things all the time. This is the first time I’ve even owned one.”
“Well, I guess you’ll have to get used to it — at least for a while. Maybe they’ll go back to what you’re used to after breast feeding.”
“Yeah, well, maybe they’ll never shrink back again after all the sucking they’ll get,” she said, cupping her burgeoning tits in her hands. Suddenly she must have realized the picture she made. It was almost as if she was sitting there offering her tits to me. I laughed and went to hug her. “This is gonna be fun, honey,” I told her before going down the hall to the shower.
Randi went through all the ‘last trimester blues’ I remembered from my daughters’ mother’s travails. There was the whining for calf rubs. There was the complaining about back pains and the following back rubs. After the first month Randi relaxed enough to take her top off for the back rubs. She didn’t show any self consciousness about having her tits on display. I think she was secretly proud to have some tits to show off, even if it was only to her old stepdad.
During the same time, the desert spring turned to the desert summer and the house temperature rose accordingly, despite the A/C. I began wearing only shorts rather than sweats when I got home from work. Randi spent the days in shorts and a shirt, a sundress, or just the long tee shirt she’d slept in. She didn’t have to dress unless she wanted to go somewhere, since she didn’t have to work.
I went to her Lamaze classes with her (even though it was a refresher course for me), and I rushed her to the hospital when her labor set in. I held her hand and coached her in the delivery room. I cried with her when her daughter came into the world and the whole thing only served to bring us closer.
Little Sheila was about two weeks old when I came home from my physical therapy session one evening to find a beautiful bouquet of fresh flowers on the coffee table. That beauty was nothing, however, compared to the difference in Randi. She was dressed in a new “non-maternity” sundress that was low cut in front. Her new big breasts peeked out over the neckline and her legs were coolly exposed to mid-thigh. She was losing her “baby fat” quickly.
Not only that, but she had gone and gotten her hair cut and styled. She was wearing makeup. “Do you have a date?” I asked her.
“Yeah, it’s with you,” she said with a grin as she hooked her arm in mine and led me to the living room. “I have a sitter coming tonight.” She’d mixed me a gin and tonic (instead of my usual beer) and there were snacks laid out. Randi was drinking tonic with lime, since she was nursing.
Over chips, salsa and cheese dip Randi explained. “I finally figured out that it had been quite a while since you’d been on a date — hell, since either of us had, but you’re the subject gaziantep yabancı escort here — so I figured I’d give you a little boot in the ass.”
I sipped my drink and let the gin and lime pucker the tissues of my mouth and throat while I studied my beautiful stepdaughter. Years before I’d had fantasies about both Randi and Jessie, but those days were long gone. Any lust I’d felt toward them had long since been smothered under a different kind of caring — the caring of a stepfather for his stepkids. Now it seemed as if Randi was making overtures, but maybe not. Maybe her excuse was true. Maybe she just wanted to go out and at the same time remind me what it was like to spend time with a pretty woman.
Randi was pretty, no question about that. In fact my thoughts were beginning to drift toward some of those buried fantasies from so long ago. Her pregnancy and motherhood hadn’t detracted from her erotic potential a bit, especially after I got a look at her enlarged nipples when I rubbed her back or when she nursed Sheila. My mind shifted gears as I finished the drink and asked for another.
While Randi was making my drink I remembered a conversation I had had with her mother a couple of months after she found out she was dying. We had been talking about what came after her death. Sheila was a very practical woman. She had never asked me to take her children to my heart but I had. To me it was only normal.
“What’s gonna happen when I’m gone?” Sheila asked.
“What do you mean?” I didn’t know what she meant, exactly. A whole lot of shit was gonna happen when she died. I just wondered what aspect of that she was wondering about.
“I just wanted to know if you’re going to stay in touch with Randi and Jess later,” she said.
“Well, of course I will,” I said, feeling insulted. “They’re part of my life now.”
“Yeah, but I just had a thought that you might all drift apart if I’m not around to hold things together.”
“Listen, honey, your girls are as close to my heart as Alice is.” Alice is my own older daughter. “They’re definitely closer to me than Candi is.” Candi is my younger daughter.
“They both love you. I just want them to have a…harbor if they ever need one. Their dad is too unstable and unsettled to give them that. He doesn’t really ever know what he’s gonna be doing or where he’ll be a month from now.” It was true. The first time around, Sheila had married a guy who was 36 when she was 17. That made him five years older than I am. I’ve envied him a lot about having the opportunity he had with her. There she was: a little slip of a sexy girl at seventeen — and horny as hell, if she could be believed. There he was, 36, and basking in the teenage crush this girl had on him.
During their marriage he had mistreated her — only a few times physically abusing her, but inflicting a lot of mental abuse — and living off her for the most part. He let her support him and the girls and was conveniently absent for most of the real work.
So it was easy for me to accept the ready love Randi and Jessie had offered me. I played with the sexual fantasies but I knew it was all fantasy. I felt safe because I knew that I’d never hurt and insult Sheila by cheating on her — especially with her daughters. Beyond that, I didn’t think either of them saw me as a potential lover, since I was so much older than they were.
“Just take care of them, Dan. That’s all I ask.” She was crying when she said it and all I could do was to hug and reassure her. “And don’t marry some bitch who will be jealous of your love for them,” she added.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll get married again. I’m too old for that.”
“Well you’ll have to find somebody to fuck. I’ve never met a man who’s as horny as you are.”
So now it seemed that Randi was opening a door — at least for me to peek into — that I hadn’t expected. She entered the room and handed me the drink. She sat down that time right next to me. She leaned her head on my chest and slid an arm behind me. Her warmth soaked into me and I put my arm around her for a sideways hug.
“So, I have reservations at the Grill. You have just about enough time to shower if you don’t dawdle.” She gave me a wink when she said it. I wondered if she was suspicious about my long showers. That’s where I jerk off for the most part. And I jerk off a lot — more often since Randi had been around.
“I’d better get to it, then,” I said. I kissed her on the forehead and patted her thigh as I rose, taking my drink with me down the hall.
I stripped off in the bedroom and took another hit from the drink. It was Friday night and I’d had an unusually taxing week for a guy who doesn’t work. I belonged to several social and service groups, even though I had never dated any of the available women who also belonged.
Moreover, Randi was right. It had been a long damn time since I’d been out on a date. Since Sheila had died I hadn’t been a monk, but the dates — let alone gaziantep yaşlı escort any sexual activity with the women I went out with — had been few and far between. I’d been to bed with two women since my wife had died, the second about six months before Randi came to live with me. I thought about Randi’s smile and her winks as I stepped into the shower.
The two drinks on my empty stomach and the odd tension in the air made me horny as I soaped and rinsed. Then I soaped that one special part again and made sure it was very, very clean. When Randi came to the open door and called to me to ‘get my ass in gear’, I was finished and rinsing for the final time.
I stepped out and was about half finished drying off when Randi came back with a fresh drink for me. “I thought we were in a hurry,” I said with a frown.
“Well, you have time to finish this while you dress.” She glanced at her watch and then openly down at my recently deflated cock. “We have another hour to get there,” she said. We went from the master bath to my bedroom.
I expected her to leave the room but she sat on the bed instead. I was only slightly self conscious about my semi-erect cock flopping around while she watched me dress. I crossed the room to get underwear and socks from the bureau, conscious of my naked ass being observed. Randi picked up the remote on the nightstand and turned on the TV.
While I dressed Randi surfed the channels. A few of the shows she came across apparently called for discussion. I sat on the bed to put my pants on and she happened to run across one of the new reality shows.
“Look at this,” she said. “These families are supposed to find their way through the woods and to some “Grandma’s house” but it’s rigged.”
I sat next to her and we watched for a few minutes. The show was lame, and I told her so. She clicked to another show. I glanced at the clock. It was almost 6:30. She had told me our reservations were for 7:00. I finished dressing and went back to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
I heard her groan over the splashing of the running water. All I knew was that it was a sound that shouldn’t have been there. I poked my head around the corner and caught Randi with her hand moving under her short dress. Her other hand held the shirt I’d worn that day to her face. I popped back as quickly as I’d popped in before she saw me watching her.
I thought I’d caught a glimpse of bare skin under the dress before I backed out of the bedroom. I wondered if she’d left her panties off. The idea that she might have, and the thought that she was lying on my bed with her fingers ‘walking through the juicy pages’ made me harder than I’d been only minutes before in the shower. I couldn’t help wondering about the implications if she really was naked under the dress.
I took a lot longer to brush my teeth and my hair, hoping my erection would subside before I had to leave the room. I made enough noise before I entered the bedroom so that Randi had plenty of warning. She was sitting upright with her legs primly together when I got there. Her cheeks seemed a little flushed, however.
My mind wouldn’t let the picture of Randi with her hand between her legs disappear as we drove to the restaurant. She drove, since I’d already had enough to drink to put me over the legal limit — though I was far from drunk.
Dinner was great and we talked about a lot of things. We’d finished eating and I was sipping the last of the bottle of wine I’d ordered. Randi was polishing off her big piece of Mud Pie. I watched her as she consumed the dessert with childish delight. She seemed so young then, licking the chocolate from the spoon. I smiled when she put it down and I saw there was a stray smear of whipped cream near the corner of her mouth.
I reached across the table and gently wiped it off, bringing it to my lips to taste it. I watched her eyes as I did it. She looked directly back at me and a message passed between us. We both knew at that instant where things were going.
When we were about halfway home, Randi reached out and put her hand over mine where it rested on the seat between us. “What?” I asked.
“Oh, nothing really, I just felt like touching you. I love you, Dan. Do you know that?”
“Of course I know it, honey. I love you too.”
“Yeah, but…well, I guess I just wanted to say it out loud…and hear you say it back.” She was obviously having a hard time saying what she meant. I turned my hand palm up and gripped hers. She glanced at me and I smiled at her. Then I leaned to the side and kissed the back of her hand. She giggled, like the young woman she’d been when I’d first met her. She squeezed my hand hard.
When we got home I followed Randi into the house. As she went up the two steps between the garage and the laundry room she reached back and rubbed at the small of her back with a groan.
The babysitter was paid and dismissed and Randi closed the door behind her. In the kitchen she filled a glass with cold water from the fridge and gulped it down. I moved behind her and wrapped my arms around her. I rested my chin on her shoulder. After she set the glass on the counter she leaned back against me and sighed. My hips were touching her ass and her scent made me dizzy. She was so warm and soft and it had been way too long since I’d touched a woman. I kissed her neck lightly and she moaned, pressing her ass back against me.
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