Bill and Haley and Deena
Chapter 7

Copyright© 2017 by oyster50

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 7 - The ongoing story of Bill, a mature engineer, Haley, his sixteen year old wife, and Deena, who WAS his daughter in life, love and adventures.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Incest   Father   Daughter   Group Sex   Cream Pie   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Menstrual Play   Geeks  

Deena’s turn:

When we got off the plane, there was a herd of those four-wheeled utility carts waiting. Terri, whom I recognized from the Internet, saw me and waved frantically.

“Deena! Come ride with me!”

That’s how your weekend gets interesting. I didn’t see a reason to think that a thirteen year old girl would kidnap me for nefarious purposes, so I told Haley that I was going with Terri.

“Okay, sister,” I said, sitting down beside her. “Where’re we going?”

“The pavilion. Food and music and family. And you’re new and I’m close to you in age and I thought we could talk, you know...”

“That’s right. I’m a year older. But look where YOU are, and where I am. I’m just getting started with college stuff...”

“Life isn’t just about college and work,” she sighed dramatically. “I suffer from affairs of the heart.”

“You’re thirteen...”

“I wish I had a dollar for every time somebody said that. Anybody ever said it to YOU? ‘You’re too YOUNG to worry about that?’ I’m too young to be a college grad. I’m too young to have five years as R&D with Google. All that.”

“But the heart?”

“Actually, I know exactly where I am with my heart. You’ll be meeting my Jerry in a bit.”

“Your Jerry.”

“He’s twenty-one, almost twenty-two...”

Okay, NOW I’m apprehensive. The little bit I think I know about Terri is about her intelligence and academic status, not about her relationships, and ME, I’m NOT in a position to talk about ‘normal’ relationships, at least when you look at where I am in life. From the outside, it looks like I’m doing my own dad.

“I don’t know if I’m any help, Terri...”

She looked sideways at me, grinned. “Oh, I’m past help, Deena. Just wanted to talk, is all.”

“You’re right, though,” I said, sighing with relief inside, “I’ve gotten that whole ‘age’ thing a few times.”

“Do you worry about relationships?”

“No,” I said. “Not really. I’m pretty happy where I’m at.”

“Well, good,” Terri replied as she pulled up near a big building. “Pavilion,” she said. “this is where we put the definition of ‘community’ to work. Everybody shows up here, sometimes all of us, all at once, sometimes we’re missing a few. You guys are the big attraction. We’ll probably have everybody. I hope you’re not bashful.”

“That’s not a word people use to describe me,” I said.

“Good!” Terri grinned. “You’re with me. Come on. I need to show you my Jerry.”

I met a young adult male, an engineer, according to Terri, and he didn’t flinch when Terri said “My Jerry”. Matter of fact, he smiled and put his hand on her shoulder. Yep, this is a couple.

The inside of the pavilion was full of people. I recognize some of the faces, the bunch who came here with me, of course, the ones I’ve met before, I’m hugging and shaking hands and trying to keep names and faces together, and I’m guided into a serving line to load up a plate with food that I’ve been smelling and it’s time for a meal and I sit on one side of a table opposite Bill and Haley, next to Terri, who’s got Jerry on the other side of her, and on the other side is very pregnant Nikki from not too far from where we live in Louisiana.

“How’d you like the leap from middle school to college?” Nikki asked me.

“Mind-boggling,” I said. “The expectations changed.”

“You should talk with Mizz Lee about the changes in expectations,” Nikki said. “She taught in public schools for four decades. Now she’s the teacher to the Munchkins.”

“Like applying the hone to a fine blade,” Terri said. “She loves to teach. We love to learn.”

We enjoyed the meal. We enjoyed the conversation. The music was indescribable. I’m not a music person. I find that rap and hip-hop are only slightly less annoying than a barking dog, and mainstream country music is crap and ... these people did some stuff that might slide over into country. “Bluegrass,” Terri explained. “More a genre of folk music than anything.”

And Cajun. I’d heard Cajun, you know, being from South Louisiana, you can’t miss it. I never saw it performed live before, and by such a happy group as Nikki on her triangle, her Dan on an accordion, Cindy’s Dan on guitar, Kara ‘n’ Bert (“They’re permanently attached,” Terri giggles) on fiddle, vocals by Nikki and Cindy and Kimberly’s Aunt Laci on the drums.

I heard classical music in a new light. “These are the chart-toppers of 1780,” Johanna explained.

And dancing. That Cajun stuff made my foot tap and Derek saw it. “C’mon,” he said. “Rachel says to teach you to dance.”

I looked over at Rachel, questioning in my expression. She smiled and nodded.

Cajun two-step is NOT one of those vertical seduction things. I was almost winded and quite definitely euphoric after a couple of them. When they backed off to a waltz, Derek dumped me on my butt for a chance to dance with Rachel, and THEY did a barely PG-rated version of a waltz.

The quandary arose when the night started winding down. Bill and Haley had a hotel room. I got invited to do a girl slumber party with the Munchkins, sans Derek.

What can I say? “Uh, noooo, I don’t want Haley getting all that sugar to herself?”

Actually, we – me, Haley and Bill – had discussed this possibility, so it wasn’t a shock.

“We’ll have a very special ‘everybody loves Deena’ session when we get back home,” Haley said in front of Dad.

Being mature sometimes means doing things a bit less pleasant. ‘Pleasant’ would be a romp with my two spouses in a king-sized hotel room bed. Slightly less pleasant, but more mature, would be spending the night with Terri and Rachel and Vicki. And I’m the older, more ‘mature’ one.

Actually, it was quite pleasant. Life’s NOT all about getting one’s genitals tickled, you know. The other parts I enjoy having tickled – intellect, humor – those parts were quite well tended to. Those three are smart – oh, so VERY smart – and funny and happy, and I got questioned, prodded, poked, dragged along with them.

“So let me get this straight,” I said. “Terri and Rachel have college degrees. Vicki, the only reason you DON’T have one is because Auburn categorically refuses to grant a degree to a pre-pubescent girl...”

Vicki giggled. “I’m pretty sure they’d’ve pulled up short if I was a boy, too.” Giggle. “I could’ve tried that ‘gender-fluid’ argument to test ‘em out, though...”

“Yeah...” Terri laughed. “You could’ve told ‘em your name was Victor and showed ‘em the Skoal can in your back pocket...”

“But you’re gonna graduate with MY Derek,” Rachel inputted.

“I promise I won’t grope ‘im on the dais,” Vicki tittered. “Won’t even get as close to ‘im as y’all did waltzing tonight.”

Rachel huffed. “We weren’t THAT close...”

“I couldn’t’ve gotten a two thousandths’ feeler gauge between the two of you. Can you even SPELL ‘obvious’?” Terri tittered.

“You ‘n’ Derek?” I queried.

“Oh, big time,” Terri laughed. She rasped her voice to imitate Derek. “Oooo. You’re, like, HERMIONE GRANGER!!!! And I’m in LOVE!!!”

“Seriously, Rache?” I snickered.

“It’s MUCH more than a pure physical thing,” Rachel defended. “I dunno. We, just ... I can’t explain. Maybe Little Miss ‘Jerry’s the ONE!’ can do better...”

I flicked my eyes toward Terri.

“Welllll ... It’s REAL. I talked with the Sisterhood. It’s a very common phenomenon amongst the Community,” Terri said defensively.

“I’m sure it’s real,” I inserted.

“Really? You don’t think we’re all a bunch of hormone-addled teenagers?” Rachel asked.

“I’m NOT,” Vicki defended.

“Your turn’s coming. That’s the problem,” Terri said. “It’s US. Us here in this room. Just like we’re ten years ahead of other people in academics, we’re ten years ahead of other people in social issues. Like choosing a mate.” She eyed Vicki. “Go ahead, little sister. Yours is gonna show up soon.”

“Is NOT,” Vicki said.

I don’t think she sounded all that confident, though.

Which meant that the attention of the group turned to me.

“So where are you in this timeline?” Terri asked. Terri’s definitely the ringleader. I don’t know if they took a vote or whatever, but I’m pretty sure that any time somebody addresses the Munchkins, Terri’s in front. I see something, though. I think she’ll calmly take a step back and let one of the others stand in the spotlight, not because she shirks responsibility, but rather that she wants everybody to have a chance to be a star.

I defensively said, “Me??? What about Rachel?”

Rachel cast her eyes downward demurely.

Vicki jumped in. I think Vicki’s taking a role as the group conscience. It’s funny. “Oh, like we said, Rachel’s pretty much done. She told her mom and dad after her bat mitzvah and Derek’s bar mitzvah that the entire history of the Jewish community said they were now of marriageable age.”

“You ‘n’ Derek?” I laughed.

Rachel nodded, a little smile across her lips. That smile validated the statement as an incontrovertible fact, right up there with the Pythagorean Theorem.

“He’s it. Matter of time. One year. Two years. Five years when we’re both eighteen. But whatever. I’ll stand in front of the assembly of my people...”

“Your people...”

“Oh, yes, we Jews are all about ‘My People’ but I get to say what ‘My People’ is. It’s gonna be my Jewish community AND this community that is my family. And I will pledge to Derek and he will pledge to me in front of the community and the Deity and it will be done as it has been done for five thousand years of the Jewish people.”

 
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