It was a hot day and as soon as I could finish work I headed home with the intention of having some cold drinks and lazing round the pool. I’m in my early 40s (OK, 44) and live alone with my 18 year old daughter, Suzie. My divorce was settled recently and I’ve got no plans other than seeing Suzie through university and living a comfortable uncomplicated life.
I had just changed into swimming briefs and was pouring a scotch over a tumbler of ice when the doorbell rang. It was Jamie, one of Suzie’s friends from school days, who lives nearby. Suzie doesn’t have much time for her, and they share little in common, but Jamie doesn’t know when she’s not wanted. She hadn’t been around for a couple of weeks – not since a row caused by her trying to race off Suzie’s boyfriend (frankly, in my view, Jamie could have the worthless prick). But I suppose it was too much to hope that she’d stay away for long.
Today she was in high heel clogs, white hot pants and pink halter top, the ring in her belly button on display as well as her recently bleached hair with pink streaks, pink nails, and overkill makeup. ‘Hi Mr. D!’ she said, in a voice overly cheery to hide her insecurity. ‘Is Suzie at home?’ Jamie has long been a regular visitor, using our place as a refuge since she first started getting in trouble with her folks about four years ago – smoking, underage drinking, truancy, unsavoury boyfriends, drugs.
‘Sorry, Jamie, she’s got a couple of late lectures and is staying over at her mother’s place.’
I moved to close the door, but Jamie piped up again. ‘I was just hoping to chill out by the pool for a while, you know, ‘cos things are a bit tight at home just now.’ I raised an eyebrow and she went on. ‘I dropped out of TAFE yesterday – again! tee hee – and went round to Jay’s and got ripped and the olds are real pissed.’
I have trouble keeping up with Jamie’s misadventures. Having dropped out of school in year 11 her parents enrolled her for secretarial school. That lasted a few months then they got her into a vocational college for animal handling, but she dropped out of that. I think the last one was jewellery making or some such. As for Jay, he’s the latest loser in a string of doped up, dropped out, pasty-faced, hollow-eyed wasters that she’s hung out with.
I really wanted to be on my own but shrugged OK and she walked by me heading for the patio door, tottering on her clogs. I finished fixing my drink and debated whether I should change out of my skimpy briefs and into something more modest. But what the hell. Jamie had seen me round the pool in these togs and the shorts didn’t exactly reduce my gut or anything. I went outside, she was sitting on a lounge in a skimpy pink bikini, sunglasses perched on top of her head, applying sun cream to her legs. I sat and watched her as I sipped. Her skin was quite pale – despite having spent half the summer over here – and smooth. She was still quite adolescent in shape, a bit of puppy fat, smallish breasts, but shapely legs and her butt filled out her bikini nicely. Very nicely.
I finished my drink and got up for a second. ‘Wanna beer, Jamie?’
‘Uh, no thanks Mr D, I don’t really like beer.’ I shrugged. ‘But I’d love a vodka and orange!’ I shrugged again and headed inside. I fixed a more moderate scotch for myself, then the drink for Jamie, heavy on the vodka. She looked quite the try-hard wannabe sophisticate – lying back on the lounge, sunglasses, cigarette, cocktail. I chuckled inwardly and resumed my seat. It was good for a guy’s ego to have a pretty young thing almost naked about the place. I was conscious of her checking me out from behind her dark glasses and hoped I didn’t look too unattractive. I guess I’m carrying a bit more weight than I should, but my gut is smaller than most men my age, and it’s covered with a summer tan and a matt of brown hair that my wife always liked. And my arms and chest are still shapely enough from all the years of swimming. So all is all, I didn’t mind Jamie’s scrutiny, and anyway she’d been doing it all summer, even flirting with me when Suzie wasn’t around.
Jamie prattled on a bit about how boring her course had been, about music and so on. I didn’t need to contribute much more than a grunt every now and then. I swam a few laps and Jamie followed me into the pool, splashing about and making girly noises. I paused after ten laps and Jamie was sitting on the edge of the pool waiting for me to surface. Her open legs were inches from my nose and she giggled as she saw me staring at the tight fabric outlining her vulva. I had half a mind to tell the cock teaser to go home, but decided to splash her instead. She shrieked artificially and jumped in on top of me. We horsed around and she managed to press her tits against me several times and grope my butt and groin. I climbed out and dozed for a few minutes in the waning sun, while Jamie fussed with lotions and cigarettes. I took our glasses in for a top-up. When I returned, Jamie took her glass, had a gulp (not seeming to notice that it was almost a third vodka) then rolled onto her front and asked me to put tanning lotion on her back. I said the sun was so low that she didn’t need to worry and she tossed the hair out of her eyes and gave me a pouty look. I enjoy a bit of flirting and gave her a knowing grin.
‘So, like anyway,’ she said, ‘you haven’t said how you like my new tattoo.’ She had a dark blue celtic pattern in a swathe across the small of her back with a loopy arrow head in the middle pointing downward, its tip disappearing below her bikini line. It’s the kind of tattoo you see on women hanging around in malls and city corners. I had been kind of marvelling at it when she was splashing about in the pool. Jamie sure has a fierce instinct for downward mobility.
‘Well?’ she demanded, wriggling her butt in case I wasn’t looking hard enough.
‘I can’t see all of it, but I guess I like better where it’s pointing,’ I said, grinning again.
‘Mr D!’ she screeched in mock outrage, delighted that I was playing along.