"Got it," I announced, feeling the little snick of the release.
"Praise be!" Kate said, grabbing the strap.
"Wait! Don't – "
Too late. She was so eager to be freed of her bondage that when she ripped the strap off, she also ripped away most of the top of her dress.
"At least you made it out alive," Penny offered cheerfully. She was taking bags out of the back seat.
Kate looked down at herself as she stood. "Damn." Then she shrugged and rolled the torn material around her waist. "Oh, well, I suppose it actually covers more than my swimsuit."
"Oh?"
Mark called from the house. "Hey, Dan – I can't find any red toolbox!"
I didn't tell him there wasn't any red toolbox.
"It's okay, Dad – she's sprung!"
Kate gave me a quick peck on the cheek. "Thanks for having us."
"My pleasure, babe. I like being surrounded by women who run around in their underwear." I grabbed a couple of the bags and noticed, for the first time, that Penny had been growing since the last time I saw her. She had become more than a pretty little girl; she was a beautiful, budding adolescent. Her slightly curly hair was the color of gold, and she wore it shoulder-long. Her eyes were a pale blue. Her complexion was fair, but too warm to be pale. And she'd inherited the best of the bone structures of her mom and dad, which was saying a lot. She was going to be an absolute knockout when she grew up.
Mark came out to help with the bags and stared at his wife's braencased tits. I hung back with him as she and Penny preceded us toward the house. He was staring at his wife's sleek back and the firm, rounded twitching of her ass in the remains of the dress. He was shaking his head.
"Don't worry about the dress, Mark. It happens."
"Oh, not that. It's just that every time I look at her, it's like the first time. She just gets more and more beautiful. I am one lucky sonuvabitch."
"Amen to that." We started toward the house. "Where's Bonita?"
"She's waiting in the apartment for Irene. Keep her company on the way out. They're taking the Long Island Railroad. Should get here around nine-thirty. They'll probably be yakking all the way."
"They keep in touch, eh?"
"And how. Every time Irene gets a flight assignment in the Northeast, she calls and they gab."
"Flight assignment?"
"Oh, yeah – Irene's a flight attendant."
We climbed the five wooden steps to the side door. Dolores was walking around the living room, investigating my collection of books and tapes in the alcove next the fireplace. She was wearing a swimsuit under her tee-shirt, now, and her long legs flashed and tensed as she shifted and bent. The bottom of the suit didn't cover much of her ripe little ass. I cautioned myself not to respond to the sight, but did anyhow, of course. I settled for reminding myself to behave.
"Where do you want to bunk us?"
"I gave the girls first choice of the bedrooms down here. You guys get the one on the left, upstairs."
I heard the bathroom door open and turned to find Kate striding toward us. She had put on her swimsuit and pulled a pair of denim shorts on over the bottoms. I knew she was wearing the bottoms because the outline was visible under the very tight shorts. And she'd been right – the bra hid more than the white Lurex top.
Mark's breathing had shortened. "Hey, honey, help me put these upstairs?"
She looked puzzled for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Sure." She took one minuscule makeup bag from her husband and sashayed past us. We both stared for a moment before Mark began to follow, his eyes fixed on his wife's gorgeous butt.
"Mark?"
He shook himself and looked at me.
"Be sure the door is closed. Noise and all that."
He grinned and blushed like a school-kid. I'd stayed with them once when they were first married. At first I'd thought there was a malfunctioning air-raid siren nearby. Kate was a screamer.
I deposited the other bags right there in the living room; they could sort them out. Then I noticed Dolores. The ceiling of the main floor goes all the way to the roof for half its width and Dolores was watching her mesmerized father follow her sashaying mother across the balcony to the bedroom.
Penny came out of the bedroom and saw Dolores looking up. "Where's Mom and Dad?"
I heard the bedroom door close. Dolores just nodded toward the balcony.
"Oh, jeez," Penny said. "Everybody into the shelter!" She put her fingers into her ears and headed for the sliding screen doors to the rear deck and the backyard beyond, lean legs scissoring beneath the thigh-length jumbo tee-shirt.
Dolores followed at a more leisurely pace. She was shaking her head.
"What's the matter?"
"I never knew old folks could get it on so much. None of my friends' parents do it so much or so loud."
I stepped onto the deck and closed the screen door behind us. "Your folks are very much in love."
"And lust."
I laughed. "That, too."
"Gives me hope for my old age," she said and grinned.
"Old age? Hey, your dad's only a few years older than I am." I was trying to kid her.
"Oh, I didn't mean it like that. I mean, you're single and do stuff. You're – well, you're not like a parent."
"Not that I know of."
We stepped off the deck onto the cool grass and headed toward the pool.
"Is it okay if we swim?"
I looked out at the yard, where Penny was investigating the bird feeder. "You have to," I said. "Unless the pool gets churned up, it solidifies. Can't have that."
"Uh-uh. Can't let that happen." She walked a little bit ahead of me and slowly peeled her tee-shirt up. The blue lurex or spandex bottom covered maybe two-thirds of her butt. Hard, creamy ass flesh clenched and twitched in front of me for the next three or four steps, during which she completed the de-tee-shirting. Her hips were slightly flared, her waist was taut and the top of her suit was no more than a narrow band of very tightly stretched blue across her shoulder blades. She shook her chestnut hair back and suddenly turned to face me.
"Hold my shirt for me?" She thrust it at me.
"Uh…sure."
She smiled again, this time slyly. "How do you like my suit?" She slowly turned this way and that. Yes, her secondary sexual characteristics were superbly developed. About a handful (and I've got big hands), they were firm and jutting, even within the not-quite confines of the stretch top.
Which is to say: She had great tits.
"There's not much to like," I said. "And I like it."
Just then we could hear the first distant wailing from the house. It went louder and higher and then there was a shriek – and the wailing resumed.
Dolores's eyes were half-closed and her nipples were hardening. She shook her self, turned and jogged toward the pool. A moment later, I heard the splash. I strode slowly ahead, the tee-shirt in my hand. Penny awaited me at the gate.
"She's gotten to be such a flirt."
I looked down at her, found her looking up at me, beautiful face expressionless and utterly devoid of guile. The top of her head was barely even with the bottom of my ribcage. We stepped inside the fencing. Dolores's splashing pretty well covered the screams from the house.
"Most pretty girls flirt," I said. "It's usually a phase."
"I know. It starts when they take first deliveries on the flirting equipment." She picoted, watching her sister. "She's already had some re-orders delivered."
I went to my chaise lounge and sat. She followed and stood beside me, still watching her sister. Dolores seemed to be trying to swim the length of the pool underwater on a single breath. She was almost making it.
"Do I detect a hint of jealousy?"
"A little." She pulled the big tee-shirt off and stood in her own two-piece, which was considerably less flashy and more modest than her sister's. "But I'm only eleven." She smiled brightly. "I think I'll do okay. What do you think?"