Chapter 4

Sunday started out as a lazy day for me. I watched some golf and baseball on the tube, wrote a long email to my folks and my brother back in Minnesota, and just generally kicked back. I spent a lot of time thinking about the previous day at the beach. I felt more than a little bit guilty about taking advantage of Sandy. I was the adult after all, and I should have demonstrated better self control. I spent more time trying to figure out whether Jill might have been coming on to me as we walked back from the Beach. Her titty had felt really good when it bumped up against me on several occasions. I was still unable to come to any conclusions about what Jill's actions might have meant when that darn knocking started up again at my door.

I opened up the door and was pushed aside by Donna as she swept past me and into my house. I followed her into my living room and watched as she made a beeline to my kitchen and the fridge to grab a beer. While she was gone, I quickly slipped into my favorite spot on my sofa. She returned to the living room and looked at me with some annoyance until I moved down to the other end of the couch. She took her place where I had just vacated and gave me a smug smile of approval.

"So, I hear you and Momsie and the Squirt did the beach thing yesterday?" she pulled on the last half of her beer as she paused from her question.

"Yeah. I replied, "We went down to Huntington and rode as few waves and caught a few rays." I tried for surfer chic with this comment, but might have overdone it a tad.

"What I heard was you copped a few feels, burned like a lobster and couldn't get your shitmobile running because your windows were all stuck and you couldn't open the doors." She was smirking as she said all this.This little "biatch" was starting to grate on my nerves.

"Actually Donna, we all had a great time at the beach. I can't remember how many times one of us paused in our fun though and wistfully wished that you'd been there to share it with us." I'm afraid I made a terribly unattractive snorting sound that I sometimes make when I'm trying too hard to pretend to laugh.

She got up to get another beer and, for once, was polite enough to ask whether I might want one too. I told her sure and she returned with a fresh bottle in either hand. By the way, I'm not lying when I say she was wearing the same top and cutoffs she'd worn every time I'd ever seen her. This kid either had the world's smallest wardrobe or she had a serious personal hygiene problem.

As I reached across for my beer, she started to fiddle with her top. The next thing I knew the top was off and her titties were on full display. "For the beers," she said, sitting back and allowing me full visual access. I was at a loss for words, but, thankfully, my vision was first rate and I was able to keep those two beauties in focus until I'd burned their image into my mental hard drive.