He lay back in his new recliner and sighed contentedly. Thanksgiving dinners were good, but you always ate and drank far too much. The others had smiled indulgently as he'd made his move out of the dining area into the family room nearby, then they'd got up too, and left him to rest, going outside one after the other into the unusually warm October night. He could hear them talking on the deck, lighting up their cigarettes, glasses clinking, then their voices disappeared into the distance as they moved down to the end of the garden where he'd built a fire earlier. Only little Lena was left, engrossed in her book on the sofa opposite him. He looked over at her happily and sighed again. The recliner was soft and supporting, unbelievably comfortable. He settled back and closed his eyes.

"Do you know who it was?" The voice rose softly into his consciousness. "I don't think even she knows, you know what she's like. She's done it with so many guys it could be anyone." He opened his eyes. Lena was talking with her friend Susan, who had apparently come back from the end of the garden to discuss something important. They were sitting at opposite ends of the sofa, their legs pulled up under them, Lena's bare toes, the nails painted brown, sticking out. Her long dark hair hung slightly in front of her as she leaned forward towards her friend, then swayed around pleasantly as she looked over at him. "Do you think he's really asleep?", she asked quietly, still looking in his direction. Maybe we should go to the kitchen, just to be sure. We don't want him listening." "He's out to the world, Lena. You could light a fire under him and he wouldn't budge." Lena laughed softly. "I don't know", she said. "Maybe he's faking it. Or maybe he'll wake up just as we get to something juicy." "Lena, we're fine here, it's nice, ok?" "I don't know, I'd feel more comfortable..." "Look, I don't want to go to the kitchen. It's nice here. We've seen him like this before, remember, he falls asleep all the time. He's really out. Look!" Susan got up and stood in front of him. She lifted her blouse up, and her pert little breasts bounced out. He hadn't noticed before that she wasn't wearing anything under her blouse. She swayed from side to side so the breasts bobbed fully, enticingly, around the light pink nipples. "Look George, she said in a loud voice, this is Susan, do you want to see my breasts? Open your eyes George, look at what you're missing." She remained in front of him, her light shirt sitting up above her breasts, and, running her hands up and down her body, she gyrated her hips in what she clearly intended to be a sexy display. Lena was laughing, looking around to see if the others were coming back. "Come on, Susan, it's ok, I believe you." Come and sit down. Somebody will see you, even if he doesn't. I want to talk about Carolyn. What else do you know?"

But Susan seemed to have forgotten about Carolyn; she was only thinking now about her seduction routine. She swayed in front of him, lightly caressing her breasts and running her fingers down the sides of her body. Slowly, she lifted her blouse up over her head and dropped it to the floor. Her breasts were entrancingly close, perfectly shaped. Now she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her skirt and pushed it down. She stepped out of it, picked it up with one foot and flung it ostentatiously away across the room. Now she stood there in front of him in her lacy little panties. Lena got up, picked up the skirt, and looked anxiously out of the window, but the others seemed not to be coming back yet. She watched her friend as she stripped for George, glancing at the window from time to time. Susan was soon completely naked, her body soft and brown, lithe in the gentle light. Her puffy little nipples pointed perkily upward, her hair shone gold around her delicate features, and her bottom, which she wiggled in his face after one of her twirls, was gloriously plump and firm. She was decidedly a beautiful young girl. And a wild one. George had known her since she was a little tomboy, doing handstands that seemed set up on purpose to show off her long thighs and bunched up little panties, or jumping up and down on his lap and screaming with laughter every time he winced. Though he'd never expected to see anything like this, he knew, both from her parents and from remarks Lena had made, that now she was a provocative and sometimes reckless teenager.