Chapter 1: Unskinned

Not every day a single thirty-six year old man “inherits” three under-age female dependents. Might sound like the stuff of dreams - Aladdin cums to the party as it were, but the reality is something vastly different, let me tell you.

For a while I lay there in a semi-stupor. “Let me get this right” I rationalized. I had just sexually entertained a fifteen-year old girl by drenching her in cum from head to foot. Fun certainly, but what happened to chivalry, the rights of an undoubted child, a normal bed-time story? I could always plead the fifth of course, but then I was left with something that no defense attorney could break down – my conscience! I castigated myself for not thinking things through a little better.

I scooped up the red-haired moppet, kissed her softly, which had her stirring slightly, and took her back to her bed. Checked on Mary – she of the incredibly well sculptured little rear-end, and drew the quilt up a little. No girl that age should be doing for me what she was ... especially asleep!

One thing I had figured, their wrecked car had to be gotten clean out of sight of any would-be-interested third party that might be calling around. Last thing we needed was some highway patrol officer with nothing much else to do ‘cept ask questions fronting up and checking out the garage.

At 6. 45.am I gently shook Tracy.

“Listen sweetie, look after your sisters for a while ok? Just gonna move your car somewhere well out of sight. Half asleep, she kinda got the gist of the conversation and muttered what sounded like “Yeah, OK,” Ten seconds later she was out to it.

Although the rain had eased up, out-back was a quagmire and I really didn’t want to spend too much time rigging up the tow. The Duster ... damn, hadn’t seen one of those old crates since Spielberg’s DUEL, had sustained some front end damage but nothing too serious. For a rig like my Ford 450 it wasn’t even a challenge. Slip-sliding over to where Tom had dropped it, I roped up the steering so she wouldn’t move and hauled ass to an old empty barn the far side of the property that was the ideal spot for the de-commissioned auto and having gotten her up to the double doors I had but to loosen her ropes and push her in. Easy peasy!

If there’s one thing you can be sure motivates young girls this age, its hunger. By seven thirty, give or take a yawn, it was “happy hour” so far as the grill was concerned. Eggs ... any which way, bacon rashers, the odd sausage ... even the hotcakes got a work-out. It was time for a press conference.

“OK girls, I said, “Lets talk.” They huddled up, all ears.

“Now, “ I said, “I’m assuming that your step-mother won’t be calling the cops over the car, if for no other reason, I doubt she has quite the right answer as to why you kids flew the coop in the first place. I’m betting she’d not want to be trying to justify a range of assault charges either.” They looked impressed with my reasoning.

“I gotta tell ya,” I added, “I have no idea what I’m gonna do with you either, but for the next few days at least, you can stay here while we figure something out.” Mandy immediately came over and hugged me which simply gave her an opportunity to rub her hot little budding breasts all over my chest while the others giggled.

“Now look missy,” I said disentangling her, “That’s not what you need or what I need. You’re thirteen for God’s sakes, stop acting like Pink and give me a break here.”

“Sorry Bill,” she teased, backing off and returning to her chair where she sat with her legs spread about ten inches wider apart than they need be. Damn, this was really going to be hard!

I thought we’d start with basics.

“Hey, where do you guys actually come from?” I asked. Tracy took up the tale as group spokesperson.

“Well we live in a little place called Greensboro,” she drawled. “Its about eighty five miles due east of Atlanta just off Interstate 20, pretty much mid way to Augusta. Quite a nice place really but nothing for young kids to do. It’s not exactly jumping.” she added as an afterthought.

“You go to school there?” I asked.

“Mary does, Mandy and I go to Gatewoods, it’s a co-ed in Eatonton... ‘bout twenty five miles away, south of the Interstate on route 129.”

“We catch the bus real early,” put in Mandy, still showing no inclination to close-up those legs.

“Well someone’s gonna have to be writing you all one hell of a long absentee note,” I told them. They all shuffled about in their chairs awkwardly.

“First up,” I continued, “Seems like we’re gonna have to drive to Houston and get you all some spare clothes. From what I can see, none of you have enough stuff with you to last the weekend. Didn’t seem like there was anything in the car I just brought in.”

Looking at the three of them sitting there, hair all mussed up, but still hot and girlish, I couldn’t avoid imagining helping them to try on a couple of skirts and dresses. Goddamn what a rush!

“Anyway girls, while I get ready,” I suggested, “What say you all wash-up and clean away for me? No-one moved! I stared Tracy down and reluctantly she got to her feet and headed off towards the bench-top. “Go on,” I chided, “you too Mandy - won’t kill you. Mary, you can be on sweeping detail.” Hell, they might all have had hot bodies and sexy little asses, but they were a hop skip and a jump from being overly domesticated, I figured.

Having them crammed up in the front seat of the truck was anything but a hardship. Three fresh-smelling young girls and a row of legs exposed up to their youthful thighs. In Mandy’s case of course ... exposed up to her panties just about. Would have taken nothing for me to pull over a couple of times and exploit the situation for all it was worth. I had this deep-seated impression that little in the way of resistance would have been encountered either. Damn I had to stop these thoughts if I was to aspire to the role of even a part-time guardian!

Not ten clicks from the city limits and the one absolute last thing I wanted to hear. A Police siren! “Jesus,” I thought immediately, “Don’t tell me they’d already seen the Duster in the ditch, checked the details back in Greensboro and had been tailing anyone with three girls in the vehicle?”

I pulled over, “Stay cool girls,” I muttered, “Don’t say anything.”

“License and registration please?” asked one of America’s largest living cops, leaning in the window, most like taking in the line of knees, if not other stuff.

“What’s the problem officer?” I asked. He wasn’t big on humor.

“Radar clocked you at seventy sir, it’s a fifty-five limit round here.” He was still eyeing the girls.

“I told you daddy!” said Tracy suddenly. She smiled sweetly at the colossal torso filling my driver’s side window. “Dad didn’t mean to Officer, we were distracting him.” The other two giggled.

“These your kids?” he asked, unsmiling as ever,

“Yep, that they are,” I replied, waiting for the handcuffs to make an appearance.

“You know you shouldn’t have three abreast riding up front with you,” he levelled at me accusingly, checking out my license thoroughly. Jesus, did he have to mention that word “breast?” A man can only take so much!

“I’m real sorry Officer,” I said, indicating to Mary to hop in the rear seat quick smart. “I’ll ease up on the gas too. Sorry, just didn’t notice the signs.”

“Yeah, well I can see why.” he muttered enigmatically. “Let you off this time driver, but keep it down, right?”

We let him swing back on to the highway first before getting back on the Interstate.

“Daddy?” I said, turning to Tracy. She giggled and just held my hand momentarily.

Judging by their awestruck little faces, I doubt any of them had ever been inside a big-city mall and Houston has a monopoly on those.

I didn’t get to actually help them on with any dresses or skirts worse luck, but simply advising and choosing for them was a pleasurable experience of which my previous thirty-six years had been bereft. The many giggles I heard from the nearby change-rooms was simply cruelty unplugged, knowing full well that the girls were physically teasing one another with hands fingers and I have no doubt – hot little tongues when the occasion presented itself.

Eventually we walked out with multiple packages for each of them, enough lets say for several days’ wear between washes. Whilst their arms were heavier, my wallet was considerably lighter. Hell it was fun though, specially the twenty minutes or so watching them rifle through the latest (and skimpiest) underwear. Damn it all, those low-slung jeans and high-cut undies are surely the work of Venus, Aphrodite and God-knows what other Gods of male arousal.

We hung around Houston till late afternoon, the girls wanting to see something of the big city. By the time we had gotten back to the ranch, darkness was falling and I figured a few thick steaks tossed on to the barbecue wouldn’t go astray.

Looking back now, if anything could be said to have gone astray, it was my good judgement.

It didn’t help, them all looking so goddamned attractive that evening– even before the bourbon began working its quietly erotic magic. No-one asked them to dress up – it was hardly a black-tie affair gathered around the hotplate, but I can understand that they wanted to wear their new outfits and feel like the pretty young things they so indisputably were.

Obviously someone’s make-up kit had survived the car-wreck since they all fronted-up outside having set the table in the dining room, not only decked-out in new skirts and tops, but with mascara, blusher, painted nails and the one thing I have always been a sucker for - lip gloss!

Little Mary was giving her best impression now of a mature sixteen year old. You would never have doubted it. Mandy looked like ... well, Mandy I guess. Coquettish tilt of the head – the classic lollipop stance I call it. Small breasts not only well defined beneath that brief top, but at the behest of what must have been some kinda push-up underwired contraption, two-thirds free of her neckline. Her expression, not wishing to put too fine a point on it, was not one a fifteen year old should be setting out to create. As for those hot little lips? – damn, I had to turn my attention back to those steaks and flip them a couple more times.

Oh yeah, I didn’t mention Tracy did I? Well, let’s just say, a seventeen year old has a head start in the trying-to-look-adult stakes. Toss-in a nice-fitting shortish skirt, matching top with more than a hint of promise, prettiest of faces atop as desirable a figure as God has yet handed out, and you’re talking beauty with a capital “B.” Actually, you’re talking ‘goodbye-any-resolution-you-ever-had.’ If not straight-out ‘Marry me please, we’ll worry about the birth-certificate later ... after you’re pregnant!”

In hindsight, I suppose I wasn’t helping anyone’s cause letting them all drink alcohol. To be honest though, everyone’s behavior was exemplary throughout dinner. We all ate well and simply chatted about Greensboro, school, their step-mother, or as Tracy referred to her – “The Wicked Witch of the North.”

The girls had prepared a pretty fair tossed salad and together with a few corn fritters and mushrooms, I’d have to say no one was hungry by mid-evening. Mandy I noticed was starting to give me her fixated look of wanting something more than conversation, I figured I was going to have to re-write her night-time prayers.

And now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord to let me creep,

Into your room while you’re awake,

My underwear for you to take.

Yeah, that’d do it nicely ... Mandy to a “T.”

Getting them all involved in clearing away and washing-up wasn’t quite as easy, but by ten after nine everything was ship-shape and we retired to the lounge.

They all wanted to watch a movie, so after rifling through my dvd collection, someone found Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and by general consensus, it was chosen. I would have thought it way too old for them to have known, but evidently it has a cult-following among the current teenage set.

Despite the availability of multiple chairs, seems everyone made a bee-line for the big old sofa. Long before the credits even had rolled, I had Tracy alongside me holding my hand, Mandy the other side – God only knows what she was thinking about holding and little Mary who asked plaintively, “Can I sit on your lap please?”