Chapter 2

I'm a lousy sleeper, or at least an atypical one. When I fall asleep I go into a deep REM sleep that seems to take care of my brain functions and physical well being, but I don't sleep through the night. My wife, on the other hand, needs many more hours yet is often more tired than I. Even with all my medical training I haven't figured out why that is. But I accept it as a fact of nature.

I used to read when I couldn't sleep but that stimulus kept me awake. So I do jigsaw puzzles. There's a table in the corner of my office where I go when everyone else is sleeping and work on the puzzle until I tire and then go back to bed for more REM sleep.

This night was different. Each time I awoke I tiptoed to Helen's bedroom and quietly opened her door. I listened and didn't leave until I knew she was sleeping soundly. Only then did I go to my office, but not to do the jigsaw puzzle. I sat in my chair staring into the darkness thinking about what I had done. When I tired, I checked on Helen again and then went to bed. It was a restless night.

The next day was Sunday and Tara went somewhere with her family. Then it was a week of school so I didn't see her. But on Friday, as I was leaving for work, my wife informed me that she would be with Helen after school and stay for dinner.

My gut tightened.

Thankfully, I didn't do surgeries on Fridays; my mind was in turmoil. When I arrived home, I went upstairs to change. I climbed the stairs hearing the music I knew came from Helen's bedroom. I was tempted to rush over and press my ear to the door. What was going on in there? What were they talking about? But of course I didn't. After changing my clothes I joined my wife in the kitchen.

I chatted with her while she prepared dinner. It was a pleasant surprise for her. Normally, I would have either gone into my office to read a medical journal or crash in front of the TV in the living room. The accolades she showered on me made me feel guilty since my intention was to learn if Tara had said anything or was acting differently. Nothing seemed amiss.

As my wife wiped her hands on a dishtowel, she said, "Call the girls down."

My heart almost stopped. But I trudged up the stairs and walked to Helen's bedroom. This time I did press my ear to the door. Nothing but music. I knocked softly and then harder. I made a mental note to remind Helen not to play the music so loud.

"What?" my daughter shouted.

"Dinner."

"'Kay, be right there."

Tara was just behind the door. She was coming out. I sprinted to my bedroom and ducked inside, leaning flat against the wall and looking up at the ceiling. My body trembled as I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants. I heard the girls stomping down the stairs and giggling as if everything was normal. I took a few deep breaths before following them.

The girls were seated at the table when I entered the kitchen.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Mr. Starr."

I stared at Tara, looking for any sign. She was smiling at me, her face pure innocence. I gave them a weak smile and took my seat.

"I'm gonna play tomorrow, right?" Helen asked. It was more of a statement than a question.

I realized I was staring at Tara and shifted my eyes to my daughter. "I guess. Your knee's fine. Right? It doesn't hurt anymore?"

"It's great. Doesn't hurt a bit. I just wish that stupid girl didn't kick my leg. We coulda beat them."

"I don't think she meant it," my wife chimed in. "It was an accident."

"Yeah, but we coulda won."

"Tara, what do you think?" my wife asked.

"'Bout what?"

"Last week."

"Oh, I loved it. 'Xcept for the cold and Helen getting hurt. But other than that is was great."

My head shot up to see Tara staring at me. I felt my cheeks redden and averted my eyes. The temples at the sides of my head throbbed and my mouth was dry. I took a drink with a shaking hand, but I got a reprieve. My wife bombarded the girls with questions about school which they responded to with mostly one or two word answers so my wife got the hint and stopped. The rest of dinner was mostly silent for my wife and me; the girls never stopped talking to each other.

After dinner I hurried to the living room where I sat down on the couch. I picked up the remote but didn't turn on the TV. I sat there staring into space. Tara appeared out of nowhere and plopped onto my lap facing away from me, just like in the car. Startled, I grabbed both sides of her waist and lifted her light body into the air, standing her up. She turned.

"Don't be a spoilsport." Her bottom lip stuck out, but it looked contrived.

"What are you doing? Where's Helen?"

"She went to the bathroom ... and Mrs. Starr is cleaning up."

"Tara, listen to me. What we did was wrong and it can't happen again."

"I thought you liked it." This time the pout looked real.

"It was wrong."

"I liked it, too. It was fun and made me feel good. I liked it a lot."

"It was--"

"And it made you feel good, too." Tara clamped a hand over her mouth and giggled.

"Listen to me. We--"

My daughter stormed into the room. "Let's go to my room."

"Okay, but I got sumthin' in my eye. Mr. Starr, can you look at it? It's the right one."

I glared at Tara, but she returned an innocent look. Helen waited with her arms crossed. As a doctor, I was often called upon for medical emergencies, procedures that justified all the years of schooling, you know, such as removing splinters and something in the eye. I motioned for her to come closer.

Tara walked up to me and I shifted to the edge of the couch. My right knee went between her legs and she sat down, straddling it. I gave her a stern look; she returned her innocent one and squeezed my leg with her thighs.

I pried her eye open with my thumb and forefinger and leaned forward, my face inches from hers. "I don't see anything," I said and leaned back.

"Look closer. There's sumthin' in there."

"Dad, c'mon, just do it."

"Yeah, it's really bothering me," Tara said, bouncing on my leg.

"Sit still then." The look I got from the little minx meant she knew that I understood the bouncing wasn't from impatience.

I sighed and positioned my fingers around her eye again. She placed a hand on my shoulder, something I didn't think anything of it until she ground her pussy into my thigh. She wasn't rocking like she had in the car, but moved side to side, squishing her pussy and probably her clit on my thigh, and then she pushed down, crushing her crotch into my leg. She relaxed and pushed again.

I whispered, "Stop that."

She didn't so I stood up. Tara's fingers dug into my shoulder as she slid off my leg. When we were standing, I lifted her chin to tilt her head back and, hovering over her, pried her eye open. Of course there was nothing in it, so I pinched an invisible speck off her eyeball and backed away.

"Got it. Now go play," I said.

Without even a glance at me, Tara rushed over to Helen and the two scampered up the stairs to the sanctuary of a teenage girl's bedroom. My wife joined me in the living room and plopped down on the couch next to me.

"I'm beat," she said, and leaned against me. I draped an arm over her shoulder and drew her to me. She was asleep in minutes.

Later, the two girls charged into the living room with my daughter shouting, "Put on--"

I turned towards her and placed my index finger to my lips. "Shhh."

Helen looked at my sleeping wife and whispered, "Sorry. We wanna watch the Jonas Brothers special."

"Watch in your room."

"It will be so much better on the big TV. C'mon, we really wanna watch it here."

I looked at the two girls. Helen had changed into her pajamas -- pink with ruffles at the ends of her long sleeves and long pants -- and Tara a tee-shirt and loose fitting shorts.

"When do I need to drive Tara home?"

"She's sleeping over."

I felt that tightness in my gut again.

Helen changed the channel and both girls sat on the floor in front of the TV, and in front of me. Once the show started Tara sprawled out on her belly with her chin cupped in her hands.

I couldn't help it; I stared at Tara's small, round butt. And then she lifted her legs into the air, slowly spreading them and bringing them together. A typical teenage act of boredom, but each time they parted, the leg opening in her shorts gaped. My eyes were drawn there, to her green and yellow striped panties. I focused on the colored material hugging her pussy. I knew I shouldn't be looking, but I couldn't tear my eyes away.

In her sleep, my wife snuggled up to me and sighed. Tara looked over her shoulder with her legs together. With her eyes fixed on me, she slowly spread them, and held them open. She continued to stare until my eyes fell upon the opening in her shorts. When I looked back at her face she smiled and turned around, leaving her legs apart.

My eyes returned to her crotch. I would have loved to rub my hard cock, but my wife was next to me and my daughter nearby. One was sleeping and the other watching TV, but it seemed wrong because of their proximity.

And then fingers emerged under Tara's crotch. She had shoved a hand under herself and, as she reached further back, more of her hand appeared. The fingers fumbled with her shorts, grabbing the material, pulling it to the side. I now saw her entire pussy, well, the panties covering it. It was indented with a vertical line.

My cock was rampant, but I refused to touch it. That is, until Tara brushed her fingers along her slit, pushing the material even further inside. I couldn't help it. I placed a hand flat on my hard-on and pressed down.

Tara's fingers snagged the edge of her panties and pulled, exposing her pussy to my lecherous eyes. I had touched it, but this was the first time I saw the light brown hairs and pink slit. I was mesmerized, and if my wife had awoken I probably wouldn't even have noticed. I rubbed my cock with the palm of my hand.

Tara's index finger dipped into her hole. It moved in and out, in and out, in and out. I was so close I could see the wetness on her finger each time it withdrew. I rubbed my cock faster and would probably have climaxed if not for the commercial break and Helen turning towards her friend. Tara yanked her hand out and dropped her legs, snapping them together.

Helen asked her something about the last song, but I wasn't paying attention. My cock throbbed inside my pants and I needed to touch it. I thought it might erupt without that touch.

"Gotta pee," Tara said and stood up.

Helen jumped to her feet. "Me too. I'll go upstairs. You take the one down here."

Helen dashed out of the room. Either she had to go badly or wanted to be back before the show began. Tara lingered. When Helen was gone, Tara stood in front of me. Her eyes dropped to my lap and she smiled. Without warning, she grabbed the waistband of her shorts and panties and yanked them down, showing me her lightly haired pussy, and just as suddenly pulled them back up. My jaw dropped. Tara stuck her finger inside my open mouth and giggled, covering her own mouth with her free hand. I closed my lips and licked her juices off her finger.

My wife stirred again so Tara pulled her finger out of my mouth with a pop and skipped out of the room.

"I must have dozed off," my wife said. She sat up and stretched.

I shook the arm that had been around her. "Now that I'm free," I joked, "I need to use the bathroom."

I leapt off the couch and ran for the stairs, but stopped at the downstairs bathroom and pressed my ear to the door. I almost turned the doorknob to see if it was unlocked, but I used the last of my willpower to overcome that urge. I climbed the stairs two at a time and bolted into the master bathroom. After locking the door behind me, I didn't even take the time to sit on the toilet. I tore at my pants and pulled out my cock. The taste of Tara's pussy lingered on my tongue and the sight of her panties, pussy, and finger inside her pussy was burned into my memory. I grabbed my hard cock and, with only a few strokes, fired my hot semen into the sink.

My legs felt weak so I placed a hand on the countertop for support as I leaned forward with my head down, panting.

I didn't return to the living room ... I couldn't. I was an adult involved in some sort of adolescent game. It was wrong, and dangerous. Instead, I sat on the bed propped up against the headboard and opened my book. I stared at the page, but didn't read a single word. I thought about Tara and worried.

After everyone turned in for the night, I tossed and turned in bed. Although I was a bad sleeper, I usually didn't have problems falling asleep. I simply didn't need as much sleep as other people and didn't sleep through the night. Maybe doing the jigsaw puzzle would get me tired so I went downstairs wearing only my pajama bottoms.

Hunched over the table with a puzzle piece clamped between my index finger and thumb, moving it over the incomplete picture searching for a place to put it, I heard a noise behind me and looked over my shoulder. It was Tara, dressed the same as earlier except without a bra. I stared at her tits and then looked up at her face.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

"I'm not tired."

"You have a game tomorrow. You should go to sleep."

"It's not 'til the afternoon. Whatcha doin'?"

"A jigsaw puzzle. It gets me tired."

"Maybe it'll get me tired, too."

Tara closed the door and walked up to me. My eyes once again dropped to her pointy tits pushing out the cotton tee-shirt. They reminded me of those stupid cardboard party hats, only smaller. When she was standing just behind me I realized where I was staring and looked up to her face. She leaned against my back with her chin over my left shoulder.

"Looks like a big puzzle," she said. "How many pieces?"

I didn't answer. I felt her tits pressing into my back and I felt my cock hardening.

Tara placed a hand on my right shoulder and leaned into me harder as she reached for the puzzle piece I was holding. She took it from me and did what I had done -- moved it over the puzzle looking for a place to put it. When she did that, her body moved as well which ground her tits into my back. I also felt her breath on my cheek.

"Maybe it goes here," she said.

To reach the top section, Tara had to lean into me, and in doing so pushed me forward. Draped across my back, she tried to fit the puzzle piece in several spaces, but none fit. She placed the piece down and stuck her tongue into my ear.

That startled me and I jumped to my feet, which knocked Tara backwards and toppled the chair. Tara's eyes were wide with astonishment, but then she giggled. I followed her gaze to my crotch. Without underwear to contain it, my stiff cock slipped through the fly in my pajamas and stuck out like a flagpole. I quickly stuffed it back inside, but the thin material didn't do much to hide it. I covered my crotch with both hands.

"It's real big," Tara said. "It felt big but I didn't know it was that big."

"Tara, you better go back to bed."

"I wish my tits were big. Do you think they're too small?"

Tara yanked the bottom of her tee-shirt to her chin. They were small, two little pointy cones. The areoles were almost invisible being similar in color to her breasts and her nipples were two tiny pebbles.