Chapter 1: Creating a Hottie

You summoned me, Most High?

Yes. Long have I been studying the Earth and ... A malaise has settled upon me. A certain ... boredom.

Boredom, Most High?

We need a game. A mortal ... given free will.

A dangerous thing, Most High.

An interesting thing. How shall the mortal use their freedom?

I, of course, do not know, Most High. Isn’t that the paradox of it? The ... unpredictability of it.

The entertainment of it.

Certainly, the Divine Council will enjoy witnessing this game, Most High. Who shall administrate it?

Anael, I think.

Ah, it’s to be that sort of game, Most High. Yes, yes, the Divine Council shall enjoy this greatly. Whom shall she choose?

Leave that to Anael. Her essence will guide her to the perfect mortal for our entertainment.

Steve Davies

Wake up...

My phone beeped, startling me awake. My eyes popped open and stared at the alarm clock on my nightstand. The red, digital numerals showed I didn’t have to wake up just yet. I could sleep for just another fifteen minutes.

I groaned, my eyes feeling heavy. I shifted in my bed. My wife wasn’t in bed beside me. A light leaked through the door to our bathroom. I heard the faint hiss of the shower running. She normally didn’t get up before me. I blinked, rolling over onto my back, struggling to remember why she would be up so early.

Right.

She had a flight. I blinked groggy eyes, wanting to drift back into sleep, but my thoughts were circling the fact my wife would be gone for the weekend, visiting her friend from college. She did it four times a year. I enjoyed these free weekends. I got to enjoy a more ... relaxed time—there wasn’t a list of chores for me to do—and she was always so affectionate when she returned.

The sex was always at its best.

I closed my eyes. The sound of the shower hissed louder. Though my eyes were tired, I couldn’t drift back to sleep. I felt wide awake. I drew in a deep breath. I didn’t have to get up just yet. I could sleep another...

I glanced at the clock.

Another ten minutes.

I sighed, staring at the digits. It wasn’t happening. Sleep wasn’t coming. I could feel it. I would just lie here, struggling to find it and not quite getting there. Worse, my bladder was full, that slow demand becoming more and more incessant with every moment.

Grunting, I kicked off the sheets and rolled out of bed. I blinked bleary eyes as my feet made contact with the carpet of the floor. I stood up and stretched, my back aching ever so slightly. I padded to the bathroom in my boxer shorts. I opened the door, a cloud of steam washing over me.

“Morning, Linda,” I said as I entered the warm haze.

“Good morning, honey,” Linda answered, her voice brimming with excitement.

She was a beige blur through the glass door of our shower. It was separated from our hot tub style bathtub. We had a large master bath, remodeled several years ago when we refinanced our house and took out a second mortgage.

“Excited for your flight?” I asked as I reached the toilet. I pulled out my cock, staring down at my dick thrusting from my dark-brown pubic hair.

“Yes,” she said, her voice husky. “I can’t wait to see Marissa. We’re going to see Penn & Teller.”

“I bet that’ll be fun,” I said as I relaxed my bladder.

We’d been married for twenty-two years, college sweethearts. Peeing around each other had long been something we’d grown used to doing. I groaned as it flowed out of me. I shuddered, my body tingling as it flowed out of me. There was nothing like a morning piss.

Only a morning blowjob topped it. I’d be getting one of those when Linda came back. She hated sucking my cock, except after returning from her trip with her friend when she was always at her most sexually adventurous.

“It’s going to be an amazing trip,” Linda said, the water turning off.

As I finished peeing, the shower door slid open. I glanced at her naked body as she stepped out. She kept herself in trim shape. At forty-three, she was looking amazing for a woman who had three children. Her large, pillowy breasts swayed as she stepped out onto the bathmat. Water ran across her dark-red nipples, both hard. My eyes flicked down her body, drinking in the sight of her curving hips, the brassy-brown bush standing out against her pale skin. She wore a smile, her green eyes twinkling. She pulled off her shower cap, her brassy hair spilling down her shoulder.

She hugged me, her naked body pressing against me, soaking me as she nuzzled against me. She was feeling frisky, her body squirming against me. Her lips found mine, hot and sweet. I gripped her ass, squeezing her plump butt-cheeks. My dick ached against her. She worked the front of my boxers.

I didn’t care.

She broke away from me. “Whoops, someone’s getting excited.”

“Yeah,” I panted, my heart thudding in my chest. I stroked up and down her rump.

“Oh, no, none of that,” she said. “Sorry, I need to get ready. I just couldn’t resist you. Mmm, you are looking good.”

I smiled. My wife had convinced me to start working out more, and I had shed a good twenty pounds. I hadn’t been this weight since my twenties. Her hands slid across my chest, feeling my pecs before she broke away from me.

“You are such a tease,” I groaned. “You’re going away for the weekend and leaving me like this.”

“I just want you affectionate when I return,” she said as she snagged a mauve towel. She rubbed it across her body, massaging those lush tits.

“Not afraid of sending me off to teach like this?” I asked.

She arched an eyebrow. “Are you creeping on those high school girls you’re teaching?”

“I might if you leave me like this,” I groaned. I taught at Rainier Christian High, a private school. “Some of those girls are very un-Christian.”

“Mmm, I always had a thing for my sexy, male teachers when I was that age,” she said, pulling out her makeup bag. “Maybe I should be worried.” She winked at me. “But ... I have a plane to catch, so I’ll just have to risk it.”

“You are a cruel woman,” I groaned, my dick so hard as I opened the medicine cabinet above my sink (we had two of them). I snagged toothpaste and my toothbrush.

“I know,” she said, giving me a smile. “Trust me, I will make it up to you when I get back.”

I brushed my teeth then hopped into the shower. The alarm clock went off, beeping with those annoying tones. My wife sighed and scurried out to take care of it. I let the water wash over me. I took my time showering. The hot water heater was extra-strength. With three children, two of them girls, I wanted to make sure we had all the hot water in the world.

My wife was still putting on her makeup when I slipped out. I dried and dressed. She came out just as I was about to leave. She headed to her suitcase, slipped in a plastic bag full of her makeup into it, then zipped it up.

I headed downstairs, my house bustling as my children were getting up. I passed our son’s door and pounded on it. “Time to get up, James. Put down the pencil and come down for breakfast.”

I heard a teenage grunt.

I headed down stairs two at a time, my khaki slacks whisking together. I was tucking in my shirt as I went, my tie loose around my neck. I wouldn’t tighten it until I got to work. I hated wearing it, but Rainier Christian had a uniform for everyone involved, teachers having to dress like they were going to church.

My eldest daughter Becky sat that the breakfast table, the seventeen-year-old studying a textbook, her face pale, her auburn hair gathered in a braid. She was a busty girl, like her mother, though she hid it by wearing a blouse one or two sizes bigger than she needed. It was a white top, like all the girls wore at Rainier Christian, a gray sweater vest over it. Her skirt would be a matching gray, worn longer than most of the girls at the school. If I could see her legs, they’d be clad in pantyhose. She liked to dress old-fashion, a shy child.

“Hey, pumpkin,” I said.

She looked up at me and gave me a smile. Her green eyes shone. I still wasn’t used to her wearing contacts. She’d worn glasses since she was in the fourth grade. “Hey, Dad.”

“Ready for the weekend?”

She shrugged.

“Doing anything?”

“Maybe with Tonya,” she said. “But I have an English paper to write.”

I rolled my eyes. “You haven’t finished it?”

“I got half of it written,” she said as she closed the book.

I started breakfast, simple fried bacon and scrambled eggs. Normally, Linda did it. She was a mostly stay-at-home mom these days, only volunteering at Rainier Free Clinic a few days a week as a nurse to give herself something to do. With her trip, I could handle cooking.

“Daddy!” my youngest daughter squealed.

Fourteen-year-old Sam barreled into the kitchen, a skinny girl as tall as her brother. Her short, red hair bounced about her mischievous face as she darted towards me. I turned as she threw her arms around my neck. She was a daddy’s girl, always hanging around me.

As she came in for a kiss, my phone beeped in my pocket. The sound made my head turn just an inch. Her lips, instead of landing on my cheek, planted on my mouth. I blinked at the flare of heat shooting through me. My cock, still half-hard from my wife’s sultry kiss, went full mast as my daughter pressed against me in her school uniform. Sam didn’t immediately pull away, her lips lingering as my mind screamed at me that this had to stop.

Then she darted away. “Whoops, Daddy! I hope Mom didn’t see that. She’d be jealous.”

She broke away from me, a big grin on her face. She glanced over at Becky at the table. My eldest daughter cheeks were tinged red. She was staring down at her textbook, squirming. I blinked, my blood boiling. I stared at Sam as she broke away. She was slender, wearing her white blouse tucked into a pair of gray slacks that hugged her body. Girls were recently allowed to wear pants instead of skirts as part of the uniform.

Sam hated wearing pants.

“So, we’re gonna work on the car tomorrow, right?” she asked as she darted to the table. I couldn’t help noticing how tight those pants were. They molded to her fourteen-year-old rump. A girl her age shouldn’t have a rump that nice. I swallowed, my heart pounding. I shouldn’t be looking at my daughter this way.

“Yeah,” I said. We were rebuilding a 1969 Chevrolet Impala, the second car we’d rebuilt together. The last, a 1956 Chevrolet Bel Air, we sold to finance our current project. It was fun working with my daughter.

I went back to scrambling eggs, shaking my head. Her lips tasted like strawberries. I licked mine, my dick so hard. I casually adjusted my cock in my slacks and boxers, hoping my daughters didn’t notice. Especially not Sam.

My youngest giggled.

Cheeks burning, I glanced at her, but she was staring at her phone, fingers typing away. Becky was focused on her book. I sighed in relief. Having two teenage daughters sometimes made me aware of their youthful beauty, and my body responded.

My wife swept into the room and let out a peal of laughter.

“What?” I asked as I dished scrambled eggs onto a large platter.

She hugged me from behind, her arms sweeping around. She brushed my cock and whispered “That’s what I thought. Perving on our daughters.”

“What?” I spluttered.

“Your shoulders are always so tight,” she whispered.

“Eww, don’t do that, Mom,” Sam snapped. “We’re right here.”

My cheeks burned more as my wife pulled away from me. “Pants again?”

“Pants again,” Sam said.

“Aren’t you afraid someone will mistake you for a boy?” my wife asked as she headed to the table wearing a light dress with a scoop neckline.

“I’m too cute to be a boy,” she said, her head lifted high. “Don’t I look cute in these pants, Daddy?”

“Don’t drag me into this,” I said as I brought the platters of eggs and bacon to the table.

“Yep, I’m cute,” Sam said, a big grin on her face.

My wife’s face tightened. I set the platter in the center. Sam grabbed the spoon and began gathering her eggs, squirming in her chair. My eldest looked up from her book at me. She met my eyes for a moment then they darted down again.

Linda glanced at the ceiling before asking, “Did you tell James to come downstairs?”

“Yeah,” I said, my stomach growling. I knew that tone in my wife’s voice. It was a honey-do voice. “I’ll go get him.”

I hurried to the stairs, taking them fast. I reached my son’s door and knocked hard on it. “Stop drawing, son, and come down for breakfast.”

“Just finishing up this drawing,” he muttered.

“Your girls can wait,” I said.

“Dad!” he groaned.

I grinned. I knew he was drawing naked girls. He had this comic of his. He showed us the non-naked versions of his two Japanime girls. He was a great artist, but he just needed to get some maturity. Well, if I was sixteen, I’d probably be spending as much time drawing cute girls, too.

“Come on,” I said, knocking again. “You have the entire weekend to draw them.”

“Fine,” he muttered. Papers rustled then a chair slid. The door opened and he appeared, his dress shirt untucked, his gray tie loose about his neck, like mine. He wore pants similar to Sam’s, only his weren’t so tight. He had dark-brown hair, looking like a bird’s nest, and silver-glasses on his serious face.

“You studied for Mr. Miller’s test?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know all about logic gates. I’ll be fine.”

I nodded my head as we ventured down the stairs to breakfast. Sam was digging into her eggs while Becky picked at hers. My wife had a smile on her face, her fingers typing at her phone. She looked up at me, a twinkle in her green eyes as she slipped it back into her purse.

“There’s my young man,” she said. “I see you forgot the comb again.”

James shrugged and sat down, pushing up his glasses with one hand. I took my place at the head of the table. I said grace quickly, Sam pausing in her feast to be quiet while I said a few words of thanks to God.

Then I joined my family.

Breakfast passed quickly, Sam talking about the car, “I think we’re going to get the carburetor done quickly.”

I nodded my head in agreement.

My wife kept glancing at Becky, giving our eldest daughter a studious look. Then Linda glanced at her phone again and sighed. She finished off her bacon and carried her plate over to the sink, saying, “I need to get going. The Uber driver’s here and traffic’s going to be a nightmare getting to SeaTac.”

“You’ll make it,” I said. “I’ll get your suitcase.”

She smiled at me.

I hefted her luggage, loaded with more clothes than I thought she needed for a three day trip. She led the way. She opened the front door, her hips swaying as she marched out to the ride-share car driving her to the airport, a dark-gray sedan. The driver, a young man in skinny jeans and a glasses, was playing around on his phone as he waited.

“I’m worried about Becky,” she said.

“Becky?” I asked, frowning as we walked down the red-brick walkway that curved around the garage and headed to the driveway. “Why?”

“I think she’s too close to her friend.”

I blinked at my wife. “Too close to Tonya?”

My wife nodded her head. “Becky’s seventeen, and she’s never had a boyfriend. She spends all her free time with Tonya if she’s not studying.”

“She’s just shy,” I said. “What are you saying, that you think our daughter’s gay?”

“Yes,” my wife said. “Or she might think she is. Girls are under a lot of pressure these days. Everyone’s making them think it’s okay to be a lesbian. It can confuse a shy girl like our daughter.”

“She’s not gay,” I said. “You’re just worried. She and Tonya are just friends. They’ve been friends since they were in grade school.”

“And?” My wife glanced at me. “When I was her age, I was dating.”

“Sam’s not dating, and you’re not worried about her.”

She gave me a tight look. “Sam isn’t gay. She likes boys.”

“Really? All she does is hang out with me or with her three friends. You’re not worried about her being gay.”

“Oh, I’m worried, but not about her being gay.” She shook her head. A smile crossed her lips as we reached the ride-share car, the driver not even bothering to get out to open the door. “You really don’t see it, huh?”

“What?”

She shook her head. “Trust me, Sam’s not gay, but I think Becky’s ... confused. She’s spending the night at Tonya’s again next week. And you know her parents are so ... permissible.”

“You mean they vote Democrat,” I said, arching an eyebrow.

“They probably encourage them,” my wife muttered.

I wanted to laugh, to say she was being ridiculous. Tonya’s parents were strict Christians. I almost added, “So what if she does like girls?” But I didn’t. I dropped her suitcase off in the trunk, the driver at least popped it open for me, and I slammed it shut.

“Do you want me to talk to her or something?” I asked as my phone beeped.

“Yes,” she said. “That would be great. She won’t talk to me.” My wife creased her lips. She wasn’t pleased that her relationship with her two daughters was strained. My wife had her vision on who they should be, but they were real people.

“Not worried about our son?” I asked.

“It’s different with boys to be shy,” she said. “He’s a sensitive soul. Besides, I’ve seen his drawings.” Her lips tightened. “He’s definitely not gay.”

“Definitely not,” I said, smiling. “He might want to learn anatomy better, because those girls he draws...”

A smile touched her lips. Then she sighed. “You’ll be fine, right?”

“Of course,” I said, grabbing her hips and pulling her close. “I’ll be just fine.”

“Love you,” she said. Then she kissed me. Not a quick one, but a lingering one, almost like Sam’s. My dick, still hard, throbbed.

“Love you, too,” I said when I broke it. “Damn, now I got to go teach all those nubile high school girls like this.”

She rubbed her crotch against my hardon. “Just think about all the things I’ll do to you when I get back.”

I groaned as she broke away and opened the back door. “You’re such a cruel woman.”

“You love it,” she said, that smile so playful.

I closed her car door and waved goodbye as the Uber driver backed out of the driveway. I sighed as the car pulled away, heading off to the airport. I turned and headed back inside. I pulled my phone out. I didn’t check it religiously like everyone else. I wasn’t that much of a fan of them.

I frowned. My phone said a new app had installed. Reality Editor. I frowned. “What’s that?” I entered the house. “James, have you been messing with my phone again.”

“No,” he said, his face buried in his own phone. All three of my children were staring at their phone. “Not since the last time you broke it.”

“I didn’t break it,” I muttered. Maybe it was a new service? Or one of those virus things. I frowned and hovered my fat thumb over the icon of a pencil or stylus writing on the world. It reminded me of the Glorification of the Eucharist painting by Salimbeni, the Renaissance work of art depicting God and Jesus writing on the globe of the world.

A red X appeared on the icon. I hit it and then confirmed the delete. It vanished off my phone.

Then I noticed the time on the clock in the corner. “Okay, clear off your dishes. Time for school.”

“Right, Daddy!” Sam said. She bounced to her feet, her short bob of hair swaying about that elfin face. She darted towards the sink with her dishes. Becky followed with almost as much alacrity while James stared at his phone.

“Buddy,” I said. “Come on. School.”

He sighed and put away his phone. He pushed up his glasses and carried his plate to the kitchen. I grabbed the mostly empty platters, a few scraps of bacon and crumbling pieces of scrambled eggs remaining. The sink hissed as they cleaned their dishes off.

“Done!” Sam said, giving me a big smile.

“Good job, kumquat,” I told her.

Her cheeks went bright red. Then she darted out of the room. I glanced over at Becky as she finished, my wife’s words lingering in my mind. Even if she was gay, it wasn’t my business if she didn’t want to talk about it. I decided to lie to my wife and tell her I’d talked to Becky.