Chapter 4: Where did that come from?

John stood under the hot spray from the shower. He could not help thinking back on the view of Kathy's derriere ascending the stairs. This of course, brought back the memory of seeing her lying in the sleeper. Before John realized it he had an erection of the strength and firmness he hadn't seen since his thirties when he had been very active sexually.

As he wrapped a soapy hand around his member, he could only see those beautiful breasts on Kathy. With his imagination in full fantasy mode, he envisioned how the firmness would feel as he hefted the weight of them in his hands. He visualized taking one sweet nipple in his mouth and feeling it swell and harden under the assault of his tongue. In his mind's eye he saw himself grasp the full roundness of her ass cheeks as he pulled her closer to him. Her hands tangled in his hair as he kissed and sucked on her, his hands squeezing and stroking her ass. So vivid was his fantasy that in just a few moments he arrived at a climax that tightened every muscle in his body as pulse after pulse of semen erupted from his swollen dick.

"Damn, didn't know I had that still in me." He said to himself as he came down from his orgasmic high. "After telling Little Bit that I'm not after her body, I better not let her find out I jacked off like a teenager over her." He said to himself as a wave of guilt washed over him. He would have to get himself under control, and keep himself there if he knew what was good for him. The last thing he needed to do was to go and make a fool of himself over a girl young enough to be his daughter.

He was not ashamed of masturbating. Hell, he had done that since he was thirteen. He was ashamed that he had fantasized about Kathy. Not only did she need his help; she was so much younger than he. John knew she would never find him attractive in that way. She did not need his lust at all. His mind in turmoil, he slipped into his bed. He never noticed Lucy was not in her usual place with her head resting on his legs.

He was almost asleep when he thought he heard his name called. He sat up and listened for a moment, thinking maybe Kathy needed him. But no, it must have been his imagination. All he could hear was the faint sound of water from the upstairs bath. He lay back down and drifted off to sleep and soon visions of Kathy filled his dreams.

Kathy climbed the stairs totally unaware of John's eyes on her backside. When she reached the top, she had to decide which way to turn. To her left were the bathroom and the white bedroom. In it were white dresser, white chest of drawers, white headboard, white bedspread, white casual rug and the whole white nine yards. To her right was the office and down the short hall was the bedroom in naturally finished antiques. It had a dresser with a fancy carved mirror, a highboy and a brass bed. Although, the white bedroom was closest to the bathroom, the antiqued bedroom called to her. It just seemed warmer.

So, Kathy turned to the right. She left the sweatpants folded on the dresser and then returned to the bathroom. It was fully stocked with shampoo, conditioner and bath gel on the shelf in the bathtub. Four bath towels hung on rails along one wall. Opening what looked like an antique jelly cupboard beside the pedestal sink, she found washcloths, shaving gel and even new disposable razors. John had thought of just about everything. The only thing missing were tampons, she giggled to herself.

Kathy adjusted the water to a very pleasant hot temperature, then stripped and stepped under the inviting spray. The shower head was mounted very high, which gave the feeling of standing under a warm summer rain. Kathy could feel the tension melt in her shoulders as the hot water worked its magic on her muscles. As she lathered her hair she allowed her mind to drift to all that had happened to her in the last forty-eight hours.