Harry Stone
His Youngest Daughter
(Family series — 173)
Chapter One
"S'cuse me," came a man's voice suddenly from behind her.
Karol Carson gave a start and furiously buttoned up the front of her blouse as she turned around. It was a very hot day in the park and she had been working around camp with the thing carelessly flapping in the breeze. A crimson flush suffused her face as she whirled to face the man, her fingers barely managing to fasten the last button in time.
"Didn't mean to scare you," he apologized. She saw his eyes veer away from the top of her blouse where a bit of her firm cleavage was still visible. He pretended not to notice what her fingers had been doing only moments before.
"Name's Jim," he said, smiling generously. "The wife and I have been noticing your camper parked here for the last couple of days and been meaning to stop by and say hello. Ours is the little blue and white job parked down by the bridge. Maybe you've noticed it on your way past."
Karol wasn't all that pleased to have people come dropping in just because they happened to be camping in the same vicinity. Privacy was one of the main reasons the Carson's had decided to spend their vacation camping in the state park. But she managed to be civil to the stranger, even cheerful. She told him her name and added, a little too quickly, perhaps, that the rest of the family was fishing down by the creek and due back soon.
"Oh, your whole family along?" he said. "Little ones, too, huh? Me and Tillie left our three with their grandma. We get a kick out of being all by ourselves up here. Gives a couple a little more freedom, you know."
"Ours aren't exactly 'little ones'," she said. "Our oldest daughter, Kelly, just turned eighteen, and Lilly's twelve. They love it up here. They wouldn't have stood for it a minute to have us go off and leave them behind."
"You're kidding," Jim exclaimed. "You got a kid eighteen years old? You can't be old enough to have one that age."
Here comes the flattery, she thought to herself. But it was nice to hear. She knew damned well she looked awfully good for her age but it was always great to have some comment on it -- especially a man.
He had won his first real smile from her. "No, I can assure you it's true," she said. "Of course, Curt and I were pretty young when we got married. I hadn't quite turned seventeen then and Curt was just eighteen going on nineteen himself. You can figure it out yourself how old we are now."
This Jim looks to be around forty, she thought. He was a big man, broad shouldered and hovering a bit over the six-foot mark. And his iron-grey hair added a certain air of sophistication that was otherwise lacking in him. She caught his eyes on the vee of her blouse again, but he averted them before he spoke.
"You sure don't look it," he went on. "Hell, if you have a daughter eighteen, you ought to be on one of them TV ads with her... you know, the ones that show a mother and daughter that look like twins?"
Again she was flattered. But it occurred to her that she was allowing this man, who was after all a rank stranger, to get a little too personal with her.
"Well, I really have to get on with this cleaning up," she said, busying herself once more. She could tell he wanted to hang around but hoped he'd take the hint. As he stepped away and headed back toward the road she had a pang of regret. After all, he hadn't really come on too strong. It was just that she could tell that he wanted, to, and that he had it in him to do something about it if she gave him half a chance.
"Good-bye," she called after him, "tell your wife hello."
He turned around and eagerly returned her good-bye. "Sure will," he yelled. "Maybe we'll see you folks later on. Come on by our camper any time you're down that way and bring your husband with you."
Now that was a stupid thing to do. She shouldn't have encouraged him at all. Oh well, maybe she was imagining things, maybe his interest in her wasn't all that intense. She'd certainly had plenty of other men take a long look at her and fail to do anything more as a consequence, even though she could see in their eyes their thoughts were zeroed in on her full breasts, the tightness of her skirt across her ass, or maybe the hem of her mini-slip showing from under some super-short skirt she happened to be wearing at the time. She glanced at the casual pants she was wearing and wondered how Jim would have reacted if she'd been wearing a skirt. In spite of a quite nicely developed set of tits, hers weren't at all gigantic, she knew. Ah, but her legs were a different story.
She was well aware that her long, curvaceous legs were far and away her best feature. She'd had plenty of compliments on them in her life, and that only emphasized what the full-length mirror showed her in the privacy of her bedroom. And apparently it was hereditary. Although young Lilly wasn't yet old enough, quite, to be anything but slender and gawky as a colt, her sister's legs had grown to be terribly sensuous and curvy. Karol was far from over the hill, but she had to admit to herself that the sight of Kelly's lithe young limbs made her a bit jealous. The girl's legs reminded her of her own when she was that age, supporting the ass high and pertly, and making her look fantastic in anything she wore that showed a lot of skin below the hem.
Karol smiled to herself as she puttered about. There was no reason for her to be envious of Kelly's finely-turned underpinning. Except for the loss of just a slight bit of muscle tone, inevitable due to the years that separated them, Karol had legs every bit as attractive as her pretty daughter's. She'd seen the girl a few times lately in panties and bra and knew that comparison of their bodies above the thigh was a different matter, however. Oh well... among women her age, Karol was a knock-out and knew it.
She glanced behind her to make sure Jim was gone, breaking from her reverie, then unbuttoned her blouse again to let some of the cool breeze inside next to the straining confines of her brassiere. This time she only loosened the top three buttons. She had learned her lesson. She felt the hot mugginess of the day pour through her clothes like thick, lazy smoke in spite of the half-open blouse. There was so much moisture inside the tight-fitting bra she could feel her nipples pressing wetly against the inner surfaces of her size C-Cups.
Jesus, she thought, my tits are so hot and uncomfortable in there I'd like to slip this damned thing off and get some air on them, but some fool would probably drive by and get an eyeful if I did.
Karol's discomfort wasn't limited to her superstructure. The heat of the sun had caused her to begin feeling a few droplets of sweat roll down the smooth-skinned columns of her inner thighs as well. She irritatedly put a thumb and forefinger to the leg of her pants and pulled the material away from the area as she worked. The girls had certainly been smart to go off in their shorts. She was sure they were both much more comfortable than she was, or had any hopes of being as long as she kept on the clothes she was wearing.
Roughing it in the outdoors was fun all right, but she sure wished there was access to a nice shower. Curt had said they could bathe in the creek at a deep little hole he'd found. Karol had her doubts about such an arrangement, especially for the girls, who were used to caring for their hygiene in much more civilized surroundings. But she was willing to go along with Curt's back-to-nature bit for a few days if it didn't require too much hardship.
She pushed her long black hair out of her eyes for the seventeenth time and stooped down to clean the big frying pan they'd used the night before for fish. If it were strictly up to her, she would have probably cut her hair some months before, thick and lustrous as it was. But Curt liked it long so well that she knew he'd have a fit if she touched it. It was four or five-inches below her shoulders, much longer than most of her friends wore theirs.