Chapter 18

That sex in the living room in mid-afternoon had a huge impact on Sia. As if she’d been held back before by uncertainty, and a lack of confidence in her ability to sexually satisfy me while having fun at the same time, she flourished. It seemed she had few inhibitions. I lost some of mine, too. I had no qualms about initiating sex with her. Sia loved sex as much as I did. She demonstrated it time and again: most times wanting soft loving, quiet climaxes, and snuggling; sometimes wanting recreational sex, quickies, fumbling and groping, laughing and giggling - sex in odd places around the house. She’d seek me out and lead me to the laundry room, “The washing machine’s just about to hit the spin cycle. Let’s see what it feels like! Hurry up, Dad!”

For three weeks we experimented. I was utterly happy and completely satisfied. I wanted no one else. Sia was enough.

However, events took an unexpected turn that tested me. Jasmin had become a staple in our house, arriving every Friday after school with Sia. I liked having her around. She was a beautiful girl, both physically and emotionally. Week by week she lost the emotional distance she’d had. She hugged me frequently, became almost as sassy as Sia and mischief flitted through her dark ebony eyes. Together with Sia, they played off each other, driving up their zaniness to new bewildering heights. Sometimes it amused me. More often, it scared me, their unpredictability frightening.

Alia took to dropping by and spending time on Fridays before taking Jasmin home. I truly enjoyed her company and the intelligent conversations we had. Alia was as sharply witty as I was. It made for some great laughs. But, even though I enjoyed it tremendously, the soft kiss she’d give me when leaving troubled me. I had a perfect lover living with me. I was sexually content. I shouldn’t have needed more. Still, I couldn’t stop my attraction to Alia. She was exotic, her dark ebony skin almost silky, enchanting eyes, straight jet black hair of tight waves, and a body that matched my wife’s; slender and sensual, moving so gracefully.

It became more of a problem when Sia announced she was going to Jasmin’s for a sleepover Saturday night. Alia invited me to dinner and to help handle the holy terrors.

I couldn’t figure out a gentle way to dissuade Alia from seeking something more to our relationship.

Saturday evening I battled with the Old Sod, trying to make the pickup respond to steering wheel input without taking time to think about it. The Ford farted its way to Alia’s house, black smoke billowing. Why the hell couldn’t I just junk the damn thing?

Alia and Jasmin had a spectacular house. My eleven hundred square foot creaky home was dwarfed in comparison. Alia’s home sprawled, one floor spread out with a double garage at one end, a vaulted room at the other. Long horizontal red bricks added to the illusion of expanse. Large windows let in light. A steep shingled roof suggested either a full attic or a second story with a view of the back garden; there were no upper floor windows at the front.

Set in a clearing, about an acre in size, snow had melted to reveal spots of lawn and carefully planned bushes. Surrounding the property were old trees, tall and leafless, and green pines.

A wide double door opened when I rang the bell. Alia appeared, smiling, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. “Finally. I was about to shoot myself to put me out of my misery,” she said, taking the bottle of red wine I proffered.

Peals of laughter echoed from inside.

“Come on in,” she invited.

Her house was beautiful. It was tastefully decorated, elegant like her, but relaxed, comfortable. The scent of roasting chicken filled the air. Huge floor to ceiling glass doors faced the back garden. Soft lighting from crystal table lamps gave the expansive living room a cozy feel. Hardwood floors had Persian carpets here and there, and her furniture reminded me of our old oak kitchen table; solid wood, aged to showcase wood grains, waxed to a shine.

I followed her into a large, modern kitchen with a Sub-Zero refrigerator and a Viking gas range, and sat on a stool at a kitchen island while she uncorked the wine. The pale rose-infused grey granite countertop was cool under my hands.

I wanted to relax and enjoy myself. I couldn’t. Alia was warm and charming and funny. She looked great in tight boot-leg jeans and a pale green V-neck cashmere sweater, no blouse. It amused me to see her barefoot. A woman after my own heart.

Dinner was delicious, the company great, Sia and Jasmin animated and boisterous. It was a difficult evening for me, made more so by Alia’s brush of her lips against mine, so full of messages.

I didn’t even swear at the Old Sod when it rebelled against starting, wheezing into life with what now sounded like a burp.

SIA STRETCHED OUT ON the second bed in Jasmin’s room. Jasmin was lucky to have such a large room. Her house was great, too. They even had a separate TV room with a huge screen TV!

“You’re so lucky to have a house like this,” she told Jasmin.

Jasmin rolled onto her side, propping her head up. “You’re the lucky one. You’ve got a dad. A really great dad.”

“Yeah,” Sia agreed with a sigh. “He’s pretty great.”

“I wish he was my dad,” Jasmin said wistfully.

“Wouldn’t that be fun? We’d be sisters!”

Both girls fell silent, Jasmin imagining having Mr. Hicks as a dad. Sia thought it would be wonderful until she thought about Dad being with Mrs. Sanderson. At first jealous, she dwelled on it. Would she really be jealous? Over the past few weeks, she’d understood how much Dad loves her. She’d also known how much he wants her. That pleased her immensely. She was sure Dad would love her no matter what. But, would he want her as much if there was someone else? And, was it even fair of her to keep him to herself?

She thought back to what she and Jasmin had done in bed the last sleepover. Was it fair for her to have sexy fun with someone else but not let Dad do the same thing? Not really.

Thinking of her and Jasmin, Sia rolled onto her side facing her friend. “Wanna sleep in the same bed together?” she asked.

Cuddled together in Jasmin’s bed, Jasmin suggested they get naked.