Chapter 6

The girls had retired to Kat's room. There was something said about Ashley needing to clean up, but I think that was a convenient excuse. She could have just jumped in the pool. And Emma's sigh of "I need to lie down for a little bit," didn't quite ring true. If anything, she'd already gotten her strength back, with a little extra thrown in. She was bright and bubbly and happy which, I have to admit, made me feel a lot better.

Rather, I think they just wanted to discuss what had happened. They processed things in their lives by sitting around (lying around?) in Kat's room talking about whatever it was they were chewing on. So I'm assuming they did that now, staying in her room until lunch, at which point they emerged fully dressed. Actually, they were barefoot, but let's not quibble. The good parts were covered. I was of two minds about that. They were delightful to look at naked. But I'd put on a pair of shorts myself, so we matched. And I'll be honest about it. If they'd been naked, all I'd have thought about was mounting their young, tight bodies and trying to make babies. I needed a little break from that, to try to find some of the control that seemed to have slipped away somehow.

Unfortunately, they were still beautiful young women and, having processed all this newness, they were once again their normal, bouncy, energetic, smiling selves.

In other words, they were sexy. A girl doesn't have to be naked to be sexy.

So while we ate lunch ... I still thought about pinning each of them to the bed.

"We're going to the mall after lunch," said Caitlin.

"Okay," I responded, automatically.

"But we want to swim again this afternoon," she went on.

"Okay," I said.

"With you," she added.

Damned if I didn't feel myself getting stiff.

"About that," I said. "I kind of let things get a little out of hand last time. I'm sorry about that."

"You don't need to apologize," said Ashley. "You didn't do anything wrong. We all had fun."

"Yes, but having that kind of fun tends to lead you down the path to disaster," I said.

"You mean the part about how you want to fuck us?" asked Caitlin, sweetly.

I choked, and bits of tater tot flew everywhere as I coughed. She'd said it so calmly ... so matter-of-factly ... as if the thought of that happening was no big deal.

They watched as I tried not to die in front of them. It was very quiet (other than my coughing and hacking, ) and neither Ashley nor Emma castigated Caitlin for speaking like that. I felt like this might be my punishment for fingerfucking one of the musketeers. It stayed quiet, even after I calmed down. It became obvious that we were going to have some kind of discussion about the whole "Uncle Bob wants to fuck us" thing.

"I told you that messing around with boys was dangerous," I said. My mind tried to identify exactly when I had warned them, and failed. I suddenly wondered if I ever had warned them about this little game they wanted to play. "If I didn't, I should have," I said, trying to cover the bases. "What we've been doing is called foreplay. Have you heard of foreplay?

"That's first base, second base, third base and a home run," said Ashley.

"No, it's not," I said. "What you just described is a game some girls play that involves conscious decisions about what you're going to allow a boy to do. That's not foreplay. Foreplay is the process of getting excited and becoming ready to have sex."

"But we're not supposed to have sex," said Emma. There was something in her voice that made my eyes dart her way. I can't describe it, but there were undertones in the way she said that, which made me think what she was really saying was, "We want to have sex, but we can't because we're not supposed to do that."

And, of course, my fantasy was that they wanted to have that sex with me.

I shook that off and tried to pay attention to salvaging the situation.

"You're exactly right," I said. "You're not supposed to have sex. Not for a few more years. But playing around like we've been doing, or doing that with boys while you're on dates, is foreplay. It's no game. Mamma Nature has set things up so that when you do these kinds of things, it makes you want to have sex. And she designed things very well. As you noticed, even though you don't want to have sex with me, the foreplay we've engaged in made me want to have sex with you."

I took a breath. That hadn't come out quite as gently as I had intended. Actually, I hadn't intended to admit that I really did want to mount all three of them and commence to hit enough home runs to produce a ball team.

Thankfully, at least I hadn't put it in those terms.

I went on. "So you can see how dangerous it is to fool around with a guy."

"You're not dangerous," said Emma.

"Said by the girl who, without making a conscious decision to allow it, found herself with my finger in her pussy," I said. I winced. Somebody really needs to come up with a less harsh word than "pussy."

"I liked it," she said. "That wasn't dangerous."

I gave up trying to soften what I was saying. "It made me want to fuck you!" I said through gritted teeth.

"But you wouldn't actually do that," she said, confidently.

"Unless you let me," I said.

"But I wouldn't let you," she argued.

It was obvious that, as many teens do, she had already made up her mind about what would and would not happen, and no amount of logic or argument would change her mind.

"Famous last words," I sighed.

They went off to the mall, which let me get some work done. I had to beat off first, so I could concentrate on the work. I say "had" but I don't want you to think I was losing control. I chose to beat off, knowing that it would calm me down and get the girls out of my head for a while.

They got back home around four. They had some bags with them, which were taken to Kat's room.

Three naked girls emerged from the room and gathered in the doorway to my office.

"Come swimming with us?" asked Caitlin.

I looked them all up and down. I was almost instantly hard.

"As long as all we do is swim," I said.

"That's fine," said Caitlin. My ears perked up along with my prick. She had spoken a little too quickly and agreed too easily.

I expected them to go on, but they didn't. They stood there, waiting. There was a long moment of uncomfortable silence as I realized they were going to watch me get undressed. I suddenly had an inkling of what it must be like for a woman, who is stripping in front of strangers. All eyes are on her, and I bet all she can think of is the self-perceived flaws she hopes they all don't notice.

I won't go into what things I hoped they wouldn't notice. But I will say that when three beautiful women are watching you get undressed, it's hard to feel sexy. I stood up to remove my shirt, which I had put on to go out and get the mail. I had to sit down to remove the shoes and socks I had on for the same reason. Finally I stood again, bending over to slide my shorts off. When I stood erect again I was painfully aware that my cock was like a stick of wood, pointing at them like an old time dowsing rod which had found its target.

"I love it when it gets that way," said Emma, softly.

There was a murmur of assent from her cohorts, as all three of them examined the evidence of my arousal. Suffice it to say it didn't matter what flaws I might have. All they were interested in was my penis. Isn't it funny how something like a penis, which can look mangled and mal-grown, or bent out of shape, something society demands we hide at almost all times from those around us, can be so fascinating to a member of the opposite sex?

Well, fascinating to young members of the opposite sex, anyway.

"Swimming only," I reminded them.

"That's not what that thing is saying," said Ashley. Then she grinned, to show it wasn't a serious moment.

I have to give it to them. They really did restrict their actions to swimming, or at least water sports. At least for an hour. We separated in the pool and played "volleyball" with a beach ball, flicking it to one or the other of us. We had some races, which got silly as the girls invented new requirements. Such as holding one leg straight up out of the water while doing the back stroke, or being in the pike position while we tried to make it the length of the pool. Stuff like that. It was fun, and the fact that we were all naked only intruded on my conscious mind every so often. My guard went down, even if my erection did not.

It's not like I was rock hard the whole time. It would soften a bit as we did this or that, and then, between events, while the girls were standing in the shallow end, thinking up some silly new thing to do, it would harden back up. Don't get me wrong. I still wanted to fuck them. It just wasn't all I could think about.

Then they wanted to get out and lie in the sun. I only had two chaise lounges, which were taken by Emma and Caitlin. I had a collection of beach towels, though, and Ashley simply got one of those and spread it on the grass. Then she spread herself on the towel. Her vulva was on perfect display, and she was still breathing deeply from her exertions in the pool, which meant those gorgeous breasts, with their still spiked nipples, were rising and falling as if she was excited.

Sexually excited.

And suddenly, I was back to being a lecherous old man, slavering after the local virgins, like some nasty old troll who had just come out from under the bridge.

"Time for me to go inside, ladies," I said, in my most un-troll-like voice. "I need to take the starch out of this little baby." I grasped my penis as I said it.

That's how far out of control I was. Can you even imagine? Talk about your too much information.

"You're going to masturbate?" asked Caitlin, her voice again sugary sweet, just like it had been when she said, "you want to fuck us?"

"I confess that you affect me in ways that make me want to do that," I said.

"No you don't," said Ashley. "You don't want to jerk off. You want to fuck us."

"Shit, Ashley," I groaned. "I told you, I got out of control. I'm sorry I said it. It was a mistake, okay?"

"We're not sorry you said it," said Ashley. "Isn't that what everybody says? I don't mean they say it, but isn't that what all guys want? Isn't that what they mean by saying that guys all want one thing?"

"Okay, sure," I said, feeling helpless. "But don't think that's all men think about. Don't think you have to fend off every single male you ever come into contact with. I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean it."

Emma sat up, shading her eyes with her hands. In the process she spread her legs and put her feet on the deck, which made her pink pussy lips appear as if by magic, under the mop of auburn hair that normally hid them. I felt my prick bob.

"So ... when you said that ... when you whispered that in my ear ... you lied?"

You know how a woman can say something in what I can only call a "special" voice, which conveys the kind of emotion that Lorena Bobbitt probably felt when John Wayne Bobbitt found out just how unhappy she really was? Emma used that voice.

The hairs rose on the back of my neck. It was probably in the middle nineties, and I was already beginning to sweat from being out of the cool water, and a chill went down my spine as I realized I was well and truly screwed. I was trapped like a coyote in a spring trap. I suddenly understood how they could chew off their own leg in an effort to escape.

In my case, though, the member that would have to be chewed off to get out of this little conundrum was too near and dear to me. Instead of biting my penis, I was going to have to bite a bullet.

"No, Emma," I said, softly. "I wasn't lying. I do feel that way. And that's the problem. I shouldn't feel that way. I shouldn't want to do that to you. When I said it was a mistake, what I meant was that it's wrong for me to feel that way about you."

"So you do want to fuck me," she said, as if all my carefully thought out disarming words were so much babble.

"I shouldn't want to fuck you," I corrected.

"But you do," she insisted.

I got frustrated. "Okay, so I do! So sue me, okay? You're drop dead gorgeous, and naked. Any man would want to fuck you!"

"And us too," said Ashley, raising her head.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I groaned.

"Because it's really nice to hear a man tell the truth," said Ashley. "Guys bullshit us all the time, trying to get us to do things with them. We're not stupid, Mister Ess. We know what guys want. But you're the only man we know who will just be honest about it. Don't feel bad. We're actually happy that you're willing to be honest."

"That doesn't help me," I sighed. I realized I was still gripping my penis. I might even have been stroking it a little. Unconsciously, of course.

"You want us to help you?" asked Caitlin. "We'd be happy to do that."

I felt a soothing drip of precum ooze through my urethra. It didn't quite make it to the opening, but I knew more was on the way, and that soon that drip would hang there, exposing for all the world to see that I really did want to fuck these girls. There's something about a willing woman - or in this case three willing women - that will do that to a man.

"No," I sighed. "That won't be necessary. It shouldn't take more than thirty seconds to solve the problem. I'm already about to pop. That's what you three do to me."