Young Zoe

There was another component to my annoyance that day—guilt. I was thirty-six. She was eighteen. I was an adult. She had baby fat cheeks; she hadn't even spent a single day in education beyond high school.


I wasn't going to have a relationship with this girl. I just wanted to explore her body with mine. I wanted to fuck her until I understood why she had made me want her so much. Whenever we touched, my skin felt galvanized, my heart thumped, and my body felt more alive and ready. Whenever we touched, angry lust burned in me.

Something about her presence and touch was addictive.

I needed to kick the habit before it really formed, before I took things way, way too far with this girl.

Then, I thought of Scotty.

I couldn't just end this thing. This year, he was having the best summer of his life with me, and it was because of Zoe and the kids.

Shit.

***

Scotty woke me up on Thursday, announcing, "It's hot tub day with Cora and Gabe!"

And Zoe, I thought.

After breakfast, I pulled off the cover off the jacuzzi and checked the chemicals. It was good. I let Scotty know.

Zoe texted to let me know they were coming after lunch.

It rained in the morning. By ten, the rain stopped and the wind picked up. It was just over seventy degrees, but the wind made it feel like fifty-five.

I wanted to get out of the hot tubbing plan. It was a bad idea, but I knew I'd already committed myself when I told the kids that Zoe and I had to be in there for them to use it.

I got a few tasks accomplished for work, and then I fed Scotty lunch.

When Zoe arrived, the kids scattered to different bathrooms to change over. I told Zoe she could use mine while I changed in my walk-in closet.

I was sitting on the bed when she came out in a white string bikini that barely held her breasts in check.

"Beautiful suit," I said. Then, I cursed myself in my mind for being weak.

"Yours looks nice, too."

We gathered up the kids and some drinks, juice boxes for the kids and a couple of Dr. Peppers for Zoe and I, and I led them to the hot tub.

At the doorway, an idea jumped into my mind. I said, "Now, kids, the only way to really appreciate the hot tub is if you jump in the pool first and then stand in the wind for two minutes."

They argued against it, but I told them we would all do it together and made it seem like a game. They bought into the idea.

I counted down, and then we all ran and jumped into the pool.

It was shockingly cold.

We scrambled out, shivering, and I said, "Wait! Wait! Two minutes!"

Scotty counted down from 120. Cora joined him. Gabe tried but kept making mistakes.

Zoe's arms were wrapped around her belly, and she marched in place. Her nipples poked against the top of her bikini, and I smiled at my own deviousness.

When the countdown reached ten, we started shuffling over to the hot tub.

At zero, Scotty and Gabe jumped in. The rest of us felt how hot the water was and eased in from the side.

The moans and sighs from those kids were so exaggerated that Zoe and I exchanged a smile and a giggle from opposite sides.

After a few minutes, the kids started talking about "doing it again."

"I'm not going," I said. "I'm just fine." I stretched forward, pushing out my feet, and they came to rest on the sides of Zoe's feet. I left them there.

"Me, too," Zoe agreed.

The kids climbed out and ran to the pool.

I asked Zoe about Great Gatsby, and she told me she was almost finished.

"Who do you think I am most like," I began, "Nick or Gatsby? Or Tom? Geez, I almost forgot about Tom."

She smiled. "Gatsby."

I dragged my toes along Zoe's feet once—back and forth.

"What about me?" Zoe asked.

I said, "I don't think Fitzgerald was very fair to any of the women. None of them are kind or sweet, but if I had to choose one, I would pick Myrtle."

Zoe's feet rubbed mine. Then she glanced up. "Here they come," she said.

I looked behind me, and they were in a mad dash for the hot tub.

I slid to the other side, right next to Zoe. Our arms and legs touched in several places. My body grew energized. "Remember how hot it is," I warned the kids as they began to climb in.

The oohs and aahs echoed around the hot tub as the kids immersed themselves in the heat.

Scotty looked at us together, and he said, "Dad, if you married Miss Zoe, what would that make Cora and Gabe my?"

Zoe's body flinched.

I was cool. "They'd be your aunt and uncle-in-law."

Scotty turned to Cora. "You'd be my aunt!"

Gabe cried, "I'd be your uncle!"

Cora said, "Weird!"

"What if I married Cora?" Scotty asked.

"Gabe and Miss Zoe would be your brother and sister-in-law," I answered.

"Brothers? Cool!" Gabe declared.

"I'm never getting married," Cora proudly announced.

Scotty said, "Let's go again!"

The three climbed out.

A silent moment passed before I turned to Zoe. "You know, your glasses are attractive, but it's nice seeing your eyes without them."

She smiled. "I don't like contact lenses. They irritate my eyes, so I never wear them."

"Look at me," I said.

When she turned, I looked deeply into her eyes. "They're sky blue—like an October sky—cool. And they're big, alert and—and vulnerable. They really are quite beautiful." I turned away, watching the kids.

She continued looking at me.

The kids didn't get in and out of the water like last time. They stayed to play.

"Looks like they'd rather be in the pool," I said. "Too cold. I'd rather be in here with you."

"Me, too."

I nodded, sitting back against the hot tub wall. Then, I muttered, "Except for the eel."

"Huh?" Zoe asked.

"Hot tub eel," I said, looking very serious. "It comes out when there's only one or two people in the water." I moved to the middle of the tub.

Zoe smiled.

"It gets more aggressive when there's noise and splashing, and you know it's in here when to feel it..." I stopped, looking nervously down into the bubbly water. "When it slides over your skin—Geez!" I jumped.

Zoe shook her head doubtfully.

I pivoted and my eyes darted here and there. With my back to Zoe, I slipped my arm behind it and slid my hand across her calves.

She gasped.

I spun, wading closer. "Did you feel it?"

She giggled.

I said, "It's extremely fast, grips you in it's dull, fleshy teeth, injects its poison, and darts away."

"Don't!" she warned, grinning.

"It always goes for very, very sensitive parts."

"No! Don't!" She was about to push herself away when she shrieked with laughter. The hot tub eel bit her on her waist.

"Oh, no!" I yelled. "Don't scream or splash!"

It bit one of her thighs. She hollered. It bit the other one and then bit the other side of her waist in rapid succession.

Zoe screamed with laughter.

I stopped, deadly serious.

"You're poisoned, Zoe. Soon, you won't be able to move. You'll be paralyzed in the water, and the eel will have his way with you."

I drew very close to her, whispering, "Between us, you should know that it likes the taste of—of butt." I nodded. "Human butt."

"Oh, no!" Zoe cried, giggling.

"Shh!" I snapped. "I think...yeah. It's gone." I sighed.

A beat elapsed, and the eel snaked under Zoe's thigh and bit her. Zoe squealed, lurching from the underwater bench towards me.

I wrapped her in my arms.

"I'm sorry, Zoe!" I hollered my apology, "Human Butt! Human Butt!"

She screamed with laughter as the eel repeatedly bit her ass.

By this point, the kids had decided to run over to see what was so funny. I let Zoe down and explained the situation, only this time, I called it the "Tickle Eel" and how it bit kids' feet in hot water. I told them there were two of them in the hot tub and gave Zoe a wink. She smiled, and when the kids understood the game and climbed in, the two tickle eels struck. Five minutes later, my ears were ringing from all of the screaming laughter.

Once the kids had dried off and changed over, Zoe made them a snack and I put on a movie. She looked stunning in her bikini, filling little bowls with goldfish crackers in my kitchen.

Holding Zoe's sack of clothes, I called to the kids and said, "We're going to be upstairs changing."

I followed Zoe up, relishing every moment of the view. We went into my room, and I closed the door.

"How's your human butt? The eel wasn't too rough was it?" I asked.

She spun away from me, presenting her fat little ass. Over her shoulder, she tried to examine herself, "No, he was gentle, wasn't he?"

"I shouldn't look at your booty...at least, not when you know I'm looking," I said.

Zoe's jaw fell open.

I laughed, and then she did.

"Hey, I want to see your foot," I told her. "Get on the bed over here."

She walked to me and laid on the bed, raising her foot.

I took in in my hand to inspect it. The bandage had fallen off at some point. Now unprotected, the wound was a 3/4 inch purple stripe under her big toe with a flap of dead skin at the opening. "Hurt at all?"

"No."

"Now don't go telling your mother that I asked you to climb onto my bed half-naked."

"I won't," she assured me in a sing-song voice.

"And don't tell her that my hands were all over your bare leg while you were half-naked in my bed." I slid my hand down and up her thigh.

She gasped.

I let her leg go. "I'm going to put some treatment on it and get you a new bandage."

She waited for me while I came with bacitracin and a new bandaid. When I finished, I held her foot with one hand and slid the other down her inner thigh, stopping several inches short of her crotch. "You're good, " I said, kissing her on the ankle.

I let her go and grabbed her bag of clothing. "You can change in the bathroom while I change out here," I offered, handing over her sack.

She took it and walked toward the bathroom. Stopping at the door, she turned to me. "What if my foot hurts so much that I need your help getting dressed?"

I frowned, thinking. "Then, I better change first. These trunks won't come off easily with a...a..." Instead of completing the thought, I pointed at my trunks. Then I raised my forearm and made a fist.

Zoe covered her mouth, giggling. Her face went pink, and she walked into the bathroom.

They left shortly afterward. Zoe hugged Scotty, and then she hugged me. Her hand crept down my back, coming to rest on my ass. It hung there a moment, and then she pinched it, whispering, "Eel bite!"

We smiled at one another, and she climbed into her car.

***

Having seen her clothing sizes, on Friday afternoon I got carried away thinking about Zoe, and I ordered a swimsuit for her online.

***

On Monday night, I picked up Scotty and, when we returned home, checked the weather for Tuesday through Thursday. Cool and rainy tomorrow.

I told Scott. "Probably no swimming, little man."

"Aw, Dad!" he pouted. A moment later, he said, "We could have movie time!"

"Hey, that's a good idea."

"Yeah, baby!" he hollered, pumping his little fist.

We went to the grocery store to pick up popcorn, drinks, and movie theater-style candy. Back home, we scrolled through new streaming movie releases to find some options.

"Dad, look! It's out!"

The latest superhero pic was out.

"Cora loves that guy," he added.

"It's PG-13, little man, let me ask Cora and Gabe's Mom if it's okay, first."

It was.

I set up the family room in the basement for movie time.

***

The prospect of a movie, complete with popcorn, candy, and drinks, made Cora and Gabe go wild with excitement. I escorted them downstairs, where the smell of popcorn suffused the place.

Once Zoe and I set everything up to their liking, the three kids grabbed chairs, and things worked out to perfection.

Our basement has a gigantic sectional sofa. Built-in are three powered recliners, a regular couch, and a massive lounge-style love seat. I had split up the three recliners to be side by side with a great view, front and center, before the big-screen television. Each had a colorful kids blanket folded neatly upon it. The couch I had pushed somewhat off to the side. The lounge love seat was behind the recliners and angled.

This love seat was the size of a double bed. It had a back if you wanted to sit up, but it was long enough that a person could lay own and sleep on it. I adorned it with several large pillows and placed a big fuzzy blanket at the foot.

Cora, Gabe, and Scotty took the recliners.

Zoe looked at me. I pointed to the big love seat. "Join me?"

She smiled she climbed on in her black yoga pants and Minnesota Vikings long sleeve tee-shirt. I was in loose basketball-style shorts and a tank top. Zoe sat against the back, so I sat beside her, but not before gesturing to the blanket.

She nodded, and I draped it over us. Basements can be chilly places.

Using the remote, I dimmed the lights and turned on the movie.

Ten minutes into the film, I asked Zoe to excuse me, and I adjusted my seat, sliding down to the bed area and laying on my side. I pulled a big pillow under my head and sighed, muttering, "Perfect."

A minute later, Zoe joined me, and I spun the long pillow so that she could use it, too. Our bodies were only separated by a few inches.

I adjusted the blanket, inching closer until my knee touched the back of her calf.

Zoe turned, whispering, "Can you see?"

"Yes," I responded. "Your hair has a beautiful fragrance."

"You like it?"

I nodded.

She adjusted her position. Now my knee nestled snugly in the back of hers and our thighs touched.

We watched for about five minutes, and then she scooted back toward me. The instant I felt her movement, I inched forward. Our bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, and I rested my hand on her hip.

Soon, I began to slide my fingertips down her leg and then back up. After several long, slow strokes, I inched higher, over the crest of her hip. Higher, my fingers found the bottom hem of her shirt. Still higher, they slid under her shirt and found the waistband of her yoga pants. Next came Zoe's skin. Touching it filled me with warmth.

My body began to respond. My long, flimsy shorts offered no resistance to an erection, and I was not wearing underwear.

Drawing my hips back, I ran my hand—less on her side and more on her ass—down to the back of her thigh. I slid it back upwards and down again. On this second pass, I slipped my hand into my shorts and drew my penis to a more comfortable position. That issue settled, I wrapped my fingers over Zoe's waist and gently planted myself against her.

My cock on her ass was like pushing the shaft of a steel pole against a playground ball.

Zoe snatched a breath.

I kept my pelvis pressed against Zoe's butt, but I slid my chest back to give several inches of space. Sliding my hand under her shirt, I began to give her a back massage.

For the first few minutes, I spent all my time above and below her bra strap. Zoe let slip several sighs and hums of pleasure. Then, I began working across the middle of her back, bumping against her bra strap intentionally and repeatedly.

I stopped massaging, drawing my hand away from her skin. I let a few seconds elapse, and then my fingers closed over the two ends of her bra, unhooking the little loops, one at a time. When the last one released, the ends almost snapped away by the ponderous mass that the front cups held in check.

I kneaded the flesh of her back, infusing my touches with lounging passion and relishing in the feel of her taut, warm skin in my hand. My hand rubbed everywhere on her back, the back of her neck, her shoulder, and down to the top of her ass. Every second of it was thrilling.

After almost fifteen minutes, however, I withdrew my hand and rolled onto my back.

I wanted to continue.

No.

I wanted to push ahead. I might have moved the massage to her front, starting at her stomach and working my way up. I might have held her hips, one hand on top, the other wiggling between the cushion and Zoe's body. Clutching her, I could have ground my hard cock against her, dry fucked her.

What I wanted more than any of those things was for her to decide. I had all of the advantages of age on my side. I wanted to know what she wanted.

I did not have to wait long. She rolled toward me, putting her back to the television. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

"No, everything is absolutely perfect."

"That was, like—I don't know—the best massage ever," she whispered.

"I liked touching you."

"Was that...was what I felt on my butt—my human butt," she giggled, "was that what I thought it was?"

"What did you think it was?"

Her eyes rolled, and she said, "Don't make me say it."

"Then whisper it in my ear," I offered.

She smiled and drew close, "I want to know if it was your co—your...your penis, if I gave you a hard—an erection."

I signaled for her to let me whisper in her ear. She turned and waited. I leaned in and said, "Do you want to look and see?"

Zoe trapped a burst of laughter in her throat, and then, suppressing it, she curled her finger at me. I drew close. She said, "Can I tell you something?"

I nodded.

Her face grew shy, and she said, "I'm totally super nervous. I've never actually been like this with anyone bef..."

I kissed her before she could finish. I reached up and pulled off her glasses, setting them on the armrest behind her.

Zoe soft lips yielded to mine. She tasted like Tootsie Rolls. Her mouth opened, and I slid my tongue inside.

I squeezed her ass, and the shape and thickness of it made a short groan slip from my lips. Zoe responded with her own feminine moan. I rubbed up and down her back.

Then, I broke the kiss.

She searched my eyes for a reaction.

I whispered, "I don't believe you."

My words seemed to surprise her. "What?"

"No one kisses so perfectly on their first try," I declared with a small grin.

She smiled, "I've kissed before; I just haven't...done other things."

"I want more," I said.

We kissed again.

One of the kiddos got out of a chair in front of us. Our reactions were instantaneous: breaking the kiss, making space between us, and spinning toward the screen.

It was Gabe. He came over. "Can we pause it? I need to go to the bathroom."

"Sure," I said. "Let's take a bathroom break, everyone."

The kids scattered to different bathrooms.

I turned to Zoe. "It's a good reminder."

She shook her head. "What is?"

"If the kids saw us together, they would talk. Kids don't keep secrets."

She nodded.

"I didn't want to stop," I said, taking her hand.

"Me too."

"One more before they come back," I suggested.

We kissed, and the urgency of it thrilled me. She kissed me hard, her tongue darted into my mouth. Outside of her shirt, I let my hands climb from her hips to her waist, and then from her ribs to her breasts. My thumbs dragged up and over them. A short growl escaped my lips.

The mass of flesh upon my thumbs floored me. I released her and cupped my hands in order to palm Zoe's tits.

Pounding footsteps descended the stairs.

We split apart. I sat on a barstool. Zoe returned to the big lounge.

When the kids settled in, Zoe's eyes caught mine, and she smiled just as her eyes returned to the screen.

I dimmed the lights and started the movie.

***

How could I get Zoe alone while the kids were safe in my house?

How could I keep the kids nearby by while Zoe was in my house?

These competing ideas ricocheted around in my brain, neither gaining supremacy.

The thought of taking Zoe from behind—having that big fucking ass bounce against me and clutching her fat tits—monopolized my mind for half of the time.

The idea of Zoe's mother confronting me, of one of the kids getting hurt while Zoe and I fucked around, of my neighbors, friends, and ex-wife discovering that I was having a sexual relationship with an eighteen-year-old pre-college teen, all of these weighed on my mind the other half of the time.