And then the ridiculously small waist, easily circled by my two hands, and then the flaring outward of hips and rear....Mom was hot, something that my buddies almost inevitably pointed out to me after seeing her."That way Chrissie will be home from school," he said explaining his choice."That's only six weeks from now dad," I complained while thinking what the fuck does he care when his daughter finishes school, the chances of her coming were slim and none.
And how this teenager then becomes torn between two beautiful, competing women. But I'd thought we were going to have a heart-to-heart about school..maybe the summer job at his company..even maybe a little discussion of my activities with my current girlfriend. At forty, with his youngest child, my half sister, seventeen, he'd simply walked out.For the last two years I'd been spending my time between two houses just over a mile apart, a week with mom followed by a week with dad. Dad gave me a motorcycle and I had access to two cars. It wasn't so much that she hated him, it was just that she wasn't prepared to do anything that would hurt mom anymore than she'd already been hurt.It had been a weird experience but for a horny teenager it had certain advantages. Dad informed me the wedding was set for the first weekend in May.My mom, born Sophia Rosa Fratelli to second generation Italian Americans, was only thirty-six that spring, impossibly beautiful for a woman who had children aged nineteen and eighteen.
Her thick, curly, auburn hair tumbled over her shoulders in a fiery cascade that simply led ones eyes downward to the full, round, still high and firm breasts that screamed to be cupped and caressed.
I'd had to fight myself to stop from rushing into the room and pushing my old man off her and replacing him.