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The Boyfriend's Dad(3)

By´╝ÜPeter Jensen



“Oh, I realize I’m only being a selfish old lady,” Carla said, smiling. “It’s your time to be out and find your man. I’ve had my love, now better luck with yours.”

“You haven’t finished loving, Mother,” Tamera said sharply. “You’re only thirty-five, and a beautiful thirty-five at that!”

“I know. I have you, dearest child.”

“That’s not what I meant! I—Ohhh, what’s the use.” Tamera turned and started across the room. “I have to get dressed now, Mom.”

Carla looked at her beautiful offspring tenderly as the almost naked Tamera padded barefoot into the hallway. She was slightly disturbed at her child, because Tamera had almost spoken—and was no doubt thinking—what she herself hadn’t dared to think at her young age. But she couldn’t stay mad or upset for long, and she felt herself warming with love and affection at the radiant, tanned body, the cornsilk hair fanning out behind her head, the way her conical young breasts beat with the rhythm of her heart, solid and not as large as her own, but then not fully developed, either. And Carla had to admire with pride her daughter’s smooth flat belly and cute navel and the gentle sloping to her thighs, where she knew there was a down of softly curling pubic hair slightly thinner than her own—at the moment covered by merely a wisp of sheer nylon—and the pink petals of her still untouched young vagina. Her tight, almost boyish buttocks swayed gently as she walked toward her bedroom, and her feet, small, with delicate toes…

Still, she couldn’t help fearing that Tamera was perhaps emerging into maturity faster than she should, and that she wasn’t experiencing the joys of childhood. Was Tamera growing up too fast? And then Carla laughed wryly, realizing that she was being foolish. She was overprotective, desperately clutching her child to her bosom because that was all that was left. No husband, not since Arnold died, and there wouldn’t be another—not so long as the memory of her one true love was still fresh and poignant in her mind. Six years… but the telegram from the Army saying he’d been killed in a munitions accident could have arrived yesterday for all the dulling effects of time. No, Tamera was of this generation, a world faster than her own. There was no cause to worry… Tamera might not be the mental innocent that she had been at fifteen—but she was still as physically pure, that Carla was sure of.

With another long-drawn sigh, Carla West lifted herself out of her chair and began taking the groceries into the kitchen. They weren’t going to put themselves away, that was for sure…

Tamera had showered when she’d returned from the park, so her dressing consisted merely of putting on whatever outfit she chose to wear that evening. She stopped before the mirror in her bedroom, gazing with satisfaction at the voluptuously curved body her attractive mother and father had given her, and again studied the way her panties outlined her slightly puffy little cuntal mound. She tugged the panties up with her fingers until the smooth round cheeks of her buttocks and the thin divide of her vaginal slit were tightly impressed into the soft nylon and she giggled with secret delight. Then she slipped into a mini-skirted jumper, the top of which covered her breasts but still gave the impression that she was naked underneath. A summer dress, befitting the heat—and good for getting a boy like Eddie all hot and bothered. But she’d handle him, she thought to herself as she smoothed out the thin, light yellow material, and she’d stop his crude passes tonight, just as she had last week, but she was going to have loads of fun getting up to that point…

She began to comb her softly waving hair, and again she looked at herself in the mirror, seeing the way the mini-skirt clung to her buttocks and was more than half way up her tanned thighs, with slight creases in front where her legs joined her hips. With sudden awareness, she realized that she could almost see the lips of her vagina—was the jumper too daring for tonight? A forbidden thrill raced through her. Well, she’d soon know!

There was a sudden, shrill blast of a born, and the “rumm-rumm!” of a car engine being revved. Eddie was here! Early at that!

She shoved her feet into a pair of scuffed loafers and ran out of her room. “Mom!” she called, “I’m going now!”

“Aren’t you going to give your mother a kiss?” Carla said from the kitchen.

“Sure,” Tamera said, and hurried into the kitchen to peck her mother on the cheek. “Now, take care,” she said.

“You take care, darling,” Carla admonished.

“I will, and I’ll be home early, like I said.”

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