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From: "E. Z. Riter" <ezriter@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} {EZ}Tiffany, Brie, and Me (MFF, Inc, lolita) 2 of 4
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Date: Fri, 17 Feb 2006 16:10:02 -0500
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This is fiction intended for legal adults readers. If it is not legal, DO
NOT read.  This is a copyrighted work.  Reposting or any other use strictly
prohibited without the express, written permission of the copyright holder,
except may be posted as part of a review or posted to my pre-approved
archives.

Copyright 2006 by E. Z. Riter

E mail address: ezriter@hotmail.com

Please!        Give me your comments!

The works of E.Z. Riter are archived at www.storiesonline.net and at
www.asstr.org (ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/E.Z.Riter) And at
www.ruthiesclub.com

The works of E.Z Riter writing as Ezra Zane are archived at
www.ruthiesclub.com which is a fully illustrated pay website.

This is a copyrighted  work of the author. Do not use without permission.

TIFFANY, BRIE, AND ME

Part 2 of 4

by

E. Z. Riter

They each were dressed in my wrinkled Oxford broadcloth shirts taken from
the hamper, two blonde angels in white. The shirts hung loosely around them,
baggy as sacks, and the shirttails fell to their knees. The buttons, except
the top one, were all buttoned. I wondered what they wore underneath as I
moved to the middle of the couch and sat with one of them on each side, Brie
on my right with a leg tucked under and half facing me, Tiffany on my left
resting on her knees and facing me. Tiffany held my hand in both of hers.

"Brie's grandparents are thinking about retiring and selling their house.
This trip to Europe is to scout out places they might live. If they do,
she'll move away and I don't want that. I want Brie to live with us."

"What do you want, Brie?" I asked.

"I want to live with you," she said.

I heard what she said and the way she said it, with fear, longing, and a
needy sexuality, but did I understand what she meant? Did she understand?
Did she mean to tell me she wanted to live me as a woman, not a daughter?
Or, in her conscious, did "with you" mean with Tiffany and me?

"My grandparents won't mind if I don't move with them. I'm sure they won't.
And my mother..." Her lower lip quivered. "My mother doesn't care."

"Brie's mom doesn't want a child to hinder her pleasures," Tiffany said.
Tiffany's face hardened, and her tone was clipped and angry. "She abandoned
her like my mom did me. That's one reason we're so close. No one can know
how it feels unless they've had it happen to them."

"Tiffany, I never said..."

"No, you never said she abandoned me so she could fuck around. You always
told me she was killed in an automobile accident. You didn't lie because
that's true, but Grandma told me the whole story, of Mother seducing you and
getting pregnant to trap you with a baby, and then whoring around like a
fucking slut."

"Tiffany," I said softly but firmly.

"Sorry, Daddy, but it makes me so angry that she did that to you... and to
me. What Grandma told me is right, isn't it?"

"Yes, but it was worth it, honey. I got you."

Tiffany let out a deep breath and gave me her megawatt smile. "That's
something else Grandma told me. She said she and Granddad offered to raise
me as their child so you could be a carefree single guy, but you refused.
Knowing that made me love you even more, Daddy."

Tiffany plastered herself against me with her cheek on mine and her pubic
bone resting on my hip bone. Her legs were spread, and one of mine was
between them. "I do love you, Daddy. I love you more than Grandma does. More
than my mother did," she whispered in my ear.

I hugged Tiffany tightly as Brie's eyes held mine. She was beside me with a
knowing expression as if she could read my mind. She raised a middle finger,
slowly inserted it in her mouth, and sucked it for a moment, before folding
her hands in her lap and grinning like a cat.

My cock rose and poked against Tiffany's belly. I shifted a little to keep
her from feeling it but she matched my movement with one of her own, keeping
my hard cock trapped between us. I held her tightly for I didn't want her to
move against me. I don't know how long we sat that way before Tiffany
whispered, "Daddy, you're crushing me."

"Sorry," I mumbled as I let her go and she rolled back to sit beside me.
"It's getting late. Do you want something to eat?"

They both shook their heads. "Maybe a snack later," Tiffany said.

"I'll talk to Brie's grandparents and get it all set up. Now, why don't you
girls go to bed? I'll be here if you need me."

"Yes, Daddy," they replied in unison, sounding like daughters. They each
gave me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, accompanied by their bountiful bodies
pressed against me. Giggling and holding hands, they traipsed down the hall
with their asses twitching and bouncing for my viewing pleasure, I'm sure. I
sighed, downed my drink, poured myself another, and retired to my bedroom to
contemplate the day, a most unusual day full of surprises.

I awakened early the next morning and expected to have a few hours to myself
before they arose but, when I went to the kitchen to make coffee, they were
sitting at the kitchen table and talking. The coffee was made - Tiffany
always made an excellent pot of coffee - and I poured a cup for myself as I
mumbled a reply to their happy greetings.

"It's about time you're up," Tiffany said.

"It's only seven," I replied. "Good coffee."

"Thanks. We're hungry and we need to pick up Brie's things. Will you make
pancakes and sausage?"

"Are your arms broken?" I said grumpily.

"Yes, Daddy, they are," she teased.

"IHOP in twenty minutes." I glared at them and said, "You can go dress
properly while I'm getting ready," I said.

"What's wrong with the way we're dressed?" Tiffany asked.

They both stood and posed, hands on hips, toes pointed, chests pushed out.
They twitched and twisted and turned, thrust out their fannies, and looked
back at me over their shoulders. Actually, there wasn't anything wrong with
the way they were dressed-if they were hookers. They had on tiny little
white shorts that barely covered their pubes and let their ass cheeks peek
out, white mesh tube tops that were almost invisible, and white mules with
three inch heels.

God, they were magnificent. If I let them go out like that, a mob of erect
men would follow them down the street, and I'd be leading the way. I
remembered Brie's comment about seeing her nipples. Hell, I could see every
pore on them through her tube top. Then I realized I had never seen them
before and I knew she was displaying herself for me, which made me her
"special man." I liked that. I liked it a lot.

But I was still a father, so I asked, "Where did you get those things?"

"At the mall. We bought them just for you. Don't you like them?" Brie asked.

"Of course, I like them, but you can't go out like that. Go dress."

"So, it's all right for us to dress like this for you, but not for other
men?" Tiffany asked.

"Get changed," I said.

"You didn't answer my question," Tiffany said.

"The answer is yes, Tiffany. Isn't it, Shaun?" Brie said. It was the first
time she called me by my given name, rather than Mr. Miller or Daddy. She
stepped toward me, so close I could feel her heat. "Well?" she asked with a
smirk on her face and an eyebrow raised.

She leaned forward until her breasts lay softly on my chest and her eyes
twinkled mischievously as she looked up at me. "You like us dressing like
this for you, don't you?" she said.

Slowly, her arms slid around my waist and she pushed her crotch into mine
until my erection poked her in the belly. Her eyes widened when she felt it
and she pushed a little harder just to make sure I knew she knew what it
was.

"Answer the question, Daddy," Tiffany demanded. "You like us dressed this
way, but you don't want other men to see us like this. Isn't that right?"

"His answer is poking me," Brie said with a titter.

"You cannot dress that way outside the house," I answered. It was not
humanly possible to keep the lust out of my voice although I tried. Brie
stepped back, grinning as if she'd won a point in a sporting match.

Tiffany's face was distorted as she tried not to laugh out loud. "Do we have
to wear bras?" she asked me.

"Of course," I said.

"You owe me a dollar," Tiffany said to Brie. To me, she said, "I bet Brie a
dollar that you'd make us wear bras."

I grumped and turned to leave. Tiffany said, "And we bet another dollar
about panties. Do we have to wear them?"

I didn't even answer. From the girlish laughter, no answer was expected.

Teenagers have mood swings. All the parents told me that and I'd observed it
in Tiffany and her friends, but lately it had been worse. Their behavior
vacillated in the flash of an eye, from classy ladies to sex kittens to
typical teenagers to tramps to little girls and back again before my brain
could register it all. It was mind-boggling. And cock-stiffening.

When we went to eat, they were dressed in baggy shorts, sandals, and loose,
all-covering tops. At breakfast, they were sometimes typical teenagers,
consuming a mountain of eggs, bacon, pancakes, and milk while talking
non-stop and outwardly ignoring me, which is often a parent's fate when
teenagers are with friends. They treat their parents as servants, there to
pay and transport and nothing more. But some of the time they included me in
their conversation. And during those times, I felt their soft, loving warmth
and their happiness at being with me.

I paid the bill and joined them in the car to find Tiffany in the front seat
again with Brie in back. Brie was on her cell phone talking to her
grandmother.

I'd met Lucy and Frank Wilson, Brie's grandparents, but I didn't really know
them. They were my parents' age and we had only talked casually at school
events and such. They welcomed us to their home and Frank went with the
girls to start bringing Brie's things down from upstairs. I was surprised
they easily agreed Brie could live with Tiffany and me, whether they moved
or not, but I got the impression they weren't abandoning their only
grandchild. Rather, I think the three of them had discussed it. How I wished
I had overheard that conversation.

I drove my Land Rover that day to maximize carrying capacity, but we still
made two trips. The girls willingly did the bulk of the work, toting Brie's
stuff upstairs to the room next to Tiffany's. Then we went to the mall where
I gave Tiffany a credit card, told her to use it sparingly and to share with
Brie, gave them each five dollars for snacks, and waved goodbye. I went to
Starbucks, ordered a latte, and sat in a booth that let me watch the people
going by. I opened the latest Robert Parker mystery, read, sipped coffee,
and girl-watched. It was a nice way to spend the afternoon.

After a couple of hours, Tiffany and Brie reappeared, each with bags in
hand, plopped down beside me, and said they were ready to go. I closed my
book, finished my coffee, and led them toward the car. "Where to now?" I
asked.

"Home," Tiffany said. "We'll get about an hour of sun by the pool before
dinner. Are you going out tonight?"

"No," I replied. "Are you?"

"Brie and I want to stay in. We might start setting up her room after
dinner. Is that okay?"

"Sure."

After we got home, I changed into my swimsuit and went to the back yard.
Tiffany and Brie, both wearing their bikinis, were face down on towels by
the pool. I limbered up, knowing two pairs of eyes were watching me, eased
into the pool, and began my laps. An hour later, when I finished, the girls
were gone.

I grilled fillets, zucchini, and potatoes on the barbecue and the girls made
a green salad for dinner. Conversation was sparkling and the girls, as
always, were enjoyable company. They told me to let them clean up afterward,
so I did. I went into my home office, poured myself a brandy, and studied a
management report. About an hour later, they came into the study, both
wearing dress shirts of mine that they had liberated from the laundry.

"We want to talk," Tiffany said.

I lay the report aside and said, "Shoot."

"We can't sit comfortably in here. How about going to your bedroom so we can
lounge around?"

A little bird in my brain chirped its warning, but the girls appeared
guileless. Tiffany and I had often encamped on the king sized bed in my
bedroom to talk. When she was younger, she'd sometimes fall asleep there and
I'd carry her to her room and sometimes, although not in a years or so,
she'd snuggle up against me and I'd leave her there for the night. That's
the reason I sleep in pajamas.

"All right," I said.

They followed me into my bedroom where I went into the bathroom to change.
Before I took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door to rejoin them, I
was half hoping they had slipped out of their sleep shirts and crawled into
my bed-and half afraid they had. They were both propped up on the bed
against the pillows with space enough for me to get between them. I sat
facing them with my legs folded Indian style.

Tiffany sat forward, folding her legs and leaning toward me braced on her
arms. Her sleep shirt, which was unbuttoned almost to the waist, gaped,
leaving me an unimpeded view of her all the way to her panties. Brie was
equally exposed. They were delightful, but I said in a fatherly way, "Button
your shirts."

"Why?" Tiffany asked.

"Because I'm your father and I said to do it."

"It's not fair to pull the 'I'm the Daddy' routine," she retorted and her
brow wrinkled. "Anyway, I don't think that's the real reason."

"And what, pray tell, is the real reason?" I said.

Her bravado faltered and her eyes cut to Brie for help.

"What reason, Tiffany?"

"Daddy," she said the way she does when she's been caught in something wrong
and wants off the hook.

"The real reason is seeing our breasts make you horny," Brie said huskily.
My eyes cut to her and she held them without blushing. "That's okay. We want
to talk to you about sex."

"Sex?" I said.

"Sex," they said in unison. Tiffany regained her composure and pushed
onward. "And don't wimp out on us, Dad. We want to know the real stuff."

"Don't you talk with your friends about it?" I asked.

She grinned devilishly. "All the time, but that's the blind leading the
blind."

"You're serious about this?"

"Yes, sir," Tiffany said, and Brie nodded agreement.

"I don't know," I said.

"Look, Dad," Tiffany said forcefully. "I'm the only virgin out of all my
friends." My eyes cut to Brie, who turned a little pink. "It's not that I
haven't done anything, but I haven't gone all the way. Girls talk, but sex
is so..."  She struggled for the word. "...complex. We want to know more."

Brie said, "We're not talking mechanics, like making babies. Sex education
classes in school taught us that, and we both know why we're on the pill."

"Wait a minute. You're on the pill, Tiffany?" I asked.

"Yes, sir. Dr. Steinberg gave them to me last November."

They passed a signal and Brie continued. "Anyway, we want to know reasons,
motives, the stuff of real relationships. We've read a lot. The web is full
of information, you know. We even found a few web sites that have nothing
but sex stories," Brie said.

"I'll bet we've read a thousand, but some of them seem... I don't know,"
Tiffany said.

"Implausible," Brie said.

"Yeah, that's it. Implausible and phony. But some seem very real, and those
raise questions."

"I don't think we should discuss this," I said.

"Look, Dad," Tiffany said in an honest and open way. "I'm going to learn all
about sex and I'm going to do it soon. I can find a boy a little older, like
a senior or maybe a college guy, or a guy a lot older, maybe even someone
Granddad's age. Something bad might happen to me. I could be knocked up, or
raped, or addicted to drugs. Bad guys might even kidnap me and sell me into
sexual slavery. If you believe the stories on the web, there's a lot of that
going on, you know. A lot of bad things could happen." She smiled with an
angelic sweetness and said, "Or I could learn from a man I love and I know
loves me."

I couldn't tell them the real reason I hesitated. I couldn't say, "Because
you two sexy little vixens are driving me nuts, and I can't decide if I want
to be a proper father or fuck you both into unconsciousness." In those few
seconds they waited for me to answer, we three watched each other for silent
clues.

Tiffany said, "Don't worry about us gossiping. I've never repeated anything
you've told me. That's another way Brie and I are alike. We don't gossip
about the private stuff."

"That's the reason we don't want Brandy to be in our group any more. She
talks," Brie added. "We'll be totally discreet. We promise."

"All right, but I reserve the right to not answer or to end the conversation
at any time," I said.

"Okay," Tiffany answered.

"And button up your shirt. You, too, Brie."

They buttoned up, looked at each other, and Tiffany nodded. Their eyes bored
into me as Brie said, "Monica told us she had an affair with you that
started when she was a senior." She stopped to see if I'd comment. When I
didn't, she continued, saying, "She said you're absolutely dynamite in
bed..."

"Dyn-oh-mite!" Tiffany interjected and her eyes glittered.

"...but she broke it off last month because you were too possessive and
dominant."

"That's one of our questions. You know, dominance and possession and all
that they mean. We have a lot of questions," Tiffany said.

Brie asked, "Did she break up with up, or did you break up with her?"

"And if you broke it off, why? Monica is a major babe. And, Daddy, you're a
babe magnet," Tiffany said. She blushed and looked away, but here eyes were
hot when she looked at me again.

"What do you think?" I said.

"That's not an answer. It's a question," Tiffany said with disgust.

"I think Monica wanted to play around and you didn't want your woman to do
that, so you broke up with her," Brie said.

I was pleasantly surprised she zeroed in on the answer. "That's exactly
right, Brie," I replied.

"And that's it?" Tiffany asked. "Just playing around?"

"Yes and no. People aren't like numbers-it's not one and one always equals
two. There are as many right answers, and wrong answers, as there are people
and relationships, and people and relationships always change, so today's
right answer may be tomorrow's wrong answer."

"So what is the right answer with Monica?"

"Monica loved being with me and my money and the sex. Maybe in her own way,
she loved me. She wanted to marry me but have other relationships. I said
no. She screwed around anyway."

"There are stories like that, stories where the wife screws around because
she's a horny slut, or to get back at her husband, or sometimes just to piss
him off. Sometimes the husband takes her back and sometimes he doesn't,"
Tiffany said. "Is that a dominance issue?"

"Maybe," I said. "It depends on the couple."

"If it's not dominance, what is it?" Tiffany demanded. Her frustration was
rising.

"Love. Trust. Need. Respect. Comfort. Security. All of them, and all the
other emotions you can think of."

"But dominance is the most important one?" Tiffany asked.

"Not necessarily," I replied.

"Does Mr. Simpson object when you screw Mrs. Simpson?" Tiffany asked.

"What are you talking about?" I said.

"Don't be coy, Dad," Tiffany said curtly. "Megan overheard the three of you
in their bedroom, and when you and Mr. Simpson left, Mrs. Simpson was
wearing a collar." Tiffany's fists were clenched and her face was turning
red. "You do know what a collar is, don't you? A bondage collar that locks
behind her neck, and has rings on it. To tie her up. And Megan heard you
tell her father to eat your come from her mother's pussy. There are stories
like that, too. He's the submissive cuckold, she's the slut wife, and you're
the dominant bull. That's what they call it, you know."

"Settle down, honey," I said gently but firmly.

"And what if I don't? What will you do? Turn me over your knee and spank
me."

"Yes, I will."

Tiffany's mouth gaped and her eyes bugged out. She squealed, jumped off the
bed, and stormed  from the room.

Brie, who had watched our interchange is silence, said, "She's just
frustrated. Please don't be mad at her."

"I'm not," I said.

In an instant, Brie' face changed and her raw power burst forth. "She's
never had a sexual spanking, so she didn't understand what you meant, but I
do. You can spank me any time you want... if you fuck me afterwards." She
pounced on me with her lips on mine and one hand on my cheek. The kiss was
hot and demanding. Her tongue went down my throat. My cock was tenting my PJ
bottoms, and her hand slid down my body to wrap around it.

I pulled her head back by her long blonde hair and she groaned with a feral
need. "Don't tease me," I said.

"I'm not teasing. Tell me or take me or tie me, but fuck me," she begged.

"Brie! Are you coming?" Tiffany yelled from down the hall.

Brie grinned. "Should I tell her not yet?"

"Go to bed, Brie," I said.

"With you?"

"With Tiffany."

"Want me to finish this first?" she asked, as her small hand slid up and
down my cock.

I grabbed her wrist, pulled her hand away, and said coldly, "Go with
Tiffany."

"Yes, Daddy," she said in a voice dripping carnal promises.

She bounded off the bed, pulled the sleep shirt over her head to stand naked
except for pink panties, with her breasts high and firm and proud and their
nipples at attention. Her waist was tiny. Her musculature was perfection.
But most of all it was her face, her eyes. Teasing. Hot. Ready for sex with
me. My God, but I wanted her.

"What do you think, Daddy? Do I look fuckable?" She laughed throatily. "Cat
got your tongue? Oh, baby, that's too bad. I wanted your tongue in my
pussy."

"Go away, Brie," I gasped. It may have been the most difficult thing I ever
said.

"Call me if you want me, Daddy," she purred.

She swayed out of my bedroom. Feeling like an idiot for turning her down, I
turned off the lights and masturbated with pictures of Brie in my head. Yes,
I beat off. I didn't do it often, but they had me so worked up, I needed it.
Or her. Or them.

I thought our discussion was through for the night, but about an hour later,
I was in bed watching TV when I heard a rap on the door. "Come in," I
yelled.

The two of them came into the room, looking under control and ready for
their next assault. "What are you watching?" Tiffany asked.

"Leno," I replied.

"Oh, we thought it might be a porn flick," she said, challenging me once
again. I didn't reply and she waited for a moment or so before asking, "Can
we get in bed with you?"

"No, but you can get on the bed if you like." I clicked the TV off as they
got on the bed to sit cross-legged and facing me. "Want to talk some more?"
I asked.

"No. We're tired, but... I'm sorry I blew up, Daddy." She leaned forward and
put her arms around my neck to hug me. "I don't know why I did it," she
whispered in my ear.

With a hand in her hair, I gently tugged until we were eye-to-eye. "I do.
You were sexually frustrated," I said. "It's a good thing Brie was here to
help you get off."

She jerked back, only to find she was anchored where I wanted her. "Daddy,"
she whined as she squirmed to get away, but I gave her no slack. She was
red-faced and guilty-looking, caught with her hand in the cookie jar-or
should I say her face in the honey pot?

"Your face smells like pussy," I said. "You and Brie were having sex,
weren't you?"

"No, we weren't," she lied.

I let her go and she sat back, trembling in a mixture of fear and guilt,
unable to meet my eyes. I waited until she found the courage to look at me.
That took a long time and she looked like a whipped dog.

"If we're going to talk about sex, and if you want point-blank questions
answered by me, I want honesty from you."

"Please don't be mad. Please don't," she said and she began to cry. She dove
into me, her arms around my waist, her head buried in my chest, like a
little girl-the little girl she had been and still was sometimes.

"I'm not mad at you," I said as I wrapped my arms around her. "I love you
with all my heart."

"I know, Daddy, and I love you," she sobbed. "I just don't want to do
anything to make you hate me."

"You never could, no matter what you do," I said.

Brie was watching us with a longing to belong. Her expression wasn't sexual.
It was needy and loving. I motioned and she snuggled against me, on my left,
mirroring Tiffany. I kissed her lightly on the cheek and held her with one
arm as she slipped her free arm around Tiffany and slowly rubbed her back.

Tiffany finally calmed down and she set up and yawned. She held my head in
her hands and gently kissed me on the lips. I could taste Brie on her. She
cuddled again for a few minutes before pulling back the covers and getting
in bed.

"Tiffany," I said.

"Let us stay, Daddy. Please," she said in a sleepy, pleading voice as she
pulled the covers over her.

Brie lay down under the covers, too, lying on her back and watching me with
big, frightened eyes.

"What's wrong, Brie?" I asked.

"There's something you need to know," she said so softly I barely heard.

"What?"

"Something...about me."

"About you with your mother and her boyfriend?"

"Yes," she said, only mouthing the word.

"I know, Brie," I said.

"Know what?" she asked.

"I know you were your mother's boyfriend's sex toy, and that her next
boyfriend abused you."

"You don't mind?" she said.

"I'm sorry and angry a man mistreated you, but it doesn't bother me that
you're sexually experienced."

She smiled like a burden was lifted from her. "Oh God, I love you, Shaun,"
she said.

Men are accused of telling a woman he loves her as a lever to get her to put
out, but women do it, too, using it to manipulate men. Brie wasn't doing
that. She meant it with all her heart. The question was would she mean it in
two years, or ten, or twenty.

"Do you?" I asked.

"Yes, I do. It's not a schoolgirl crush, Shaun. I know what love is, and I
know sex is only part of it." She took my hand in hers, slowly raised it to
her lips, and kissed my palm. She pressed her cheek against my open hand. We
sat that way until she kissed me lightly on the lips. Her hand started to
slide down my body to my crotch.

"Don't, Brie," I said.

"Why not?"

"Because I said not to," I replied.

"Please, Shaun. Please," she pleaded.

"No," I replied firmly.

Her face changed and her eyes twinkled. Quick as a whistle, she flipped her
leg over mine and mounted me. My cock, hard in my PJs, was trapped between
my belly and her slit. She rocked against it as she leaned forward and said,
"Do me, Daddy. Fuck me and make me come."

I turned my head to see Tiffany staring at us with big, blue eyes.

"Off," I said. "Now."

"All right, Daddy," Brie replied in a sad, girlish tone.

"You both need to go to your own rooms to sleep," I said.

"No, Daddy," they replied.

I hopped out of bed and went into the bathroom. My erection wouldn't fit
into my Speedos so I put on my baggy boxers, walked out without looking at
them, and went to the backyard. I dove into the pool and swam like a madman.
Twenty minutes later when I went back into the house, both of them were
still in my bed. Tiffany appeared to be asleep, but Brie was faking it. I
seriously considered going to Tiffany's bedroom for the night, but some
instinct made me crawl into bed between them. Instinct hell! It was pure
delight at being between them.

Brie snuggled against me and put her leg over mine. "I'm sorry I made you
mad," she murmured, "but I do love you and I do want to sleep with you."

"Then sleep," I said.

She tittered. "I meant I want to fuck you and suck you and share all the
joys of sex with you, and sleep afterwards," she said. "But... if sleep is
all you want to do..." She pulled my arm up on the pillow behind her head,
put her head on my shoulder, and closed her eyes.

I dreamed during the night, wonderful erotic dreams, no doubt caused by the
two of them in my bed. I awakened early and only half-rested to find the two
girls sound asleep, looking like two beautiful angels, one on each side with
their bottoms against me. I eased out of bed, took a leak, went into the
kitchen, and started the coffee. With the Sunday paper and my coffee, I
adjourned to the patio by the pool to read and think and listen to the
birds.

I finished the paper and three cups of coffee before going back inside. The
girls were still asleep in my bed, so I quietly pulled on my swim trunks and
went back to the pool. I'd only completed four laps when I saw Brie and
Tiffany, fresh out of bed with their hair in a mess, standing just outside
the patio door, watching me. I stopped at pool side, propped my arms on the
edge, and gave them a big grin. "Good morning, ladies. Get on your suits and
join me."

"We want to talk and we want breakfast," Tiffany said.

"Start cooking," I replied.

"Daddy," Tiffany said in the tone of voice she used when she didn't want to
do something.

"I cook for you all the time and it's time for payback. I want waffles,
bacon, orange juice, and coffee. Call me when it's ready." I heard Brie
laughing as I started another lap.

When Brie came back outside, I was sitting on the edge of the pool at the
end of my exercise session. "The cook says to tell Mr. Miller his breakfast
is served," she said as she grinned down at me.

I extended my hand. She took it and helped me to my feet. She started to
walk away but, I grabbed her arm and pulled her back against me. Her face
lit up like a bonfire. She squealed, threw her arms around my neck, and
kissed me passionately as her hips ground into me. There are hot kisses,
sexy kisses, and hot, sexy kisses filled with love, which is what I got from
Brie. I gently pushed her away because one more kiss would lead to something
I wasn't quite ready for.

I quickly changed and joined them in the kitchen. Tiffany was a bit frazzled
but the kitchen was cleaner than I expected and the waffles were good. The
bacon was nearly perfect. "My compliments to the chef," I said. She wasn't
sure whether to grin or to act hurt. "I owe you an apology, Tiffany," I
said.

"You do?"

"Yes, I do. I've treated you like a little girl and spoiled you rotten."
Brie stifled a giggle as Tiffany gave her a warning glare. "That wasn't what
a good parent should do. Starting Monday, Mrs. Harris will teach you how to
cook and clean and do all the homemaking chores."

"Oh, that's all right, Daddy," she said.

"Brie, I want you to learn, too."

"Yes, sir," Brie replied.

"You just want someone to cook for you," Tiffany complained.

"It's not that. I cook and clean and I could keep the house if we didn't
have Mrs. Harris. She and my Mom taught me those skills when your mother
left. I can even iron as you well know because I've ironed a few things for
you in an emergency. She'll teach you and Brie because whether you live
alone or with someone else, you'll need to know. Now, you ladies wanted to
talk about sex. Can I ask questions, too?"

"Sure," they said.

"And you'll answer them honestly?"

"Yes, Daddy," they replied with a giggle.

"Where do you want to start?" I asked.

To be Continued

Please! Send your comments to ezriter@hotmail.com

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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