It was obvious that the kid had no use for her "stepmother"… and the way she could spit out that word, like it was burning acid in her pretty teenage mouth. Yeah, Lisa was jealous, all right, or it might just be that the kid didn't like the cut Shirley would get of the family jewels should something happen to Daddy. Well, neither of them were going to have too much worrying over that end of it. He intended to help alleviate their problem and damned soon, as quick as he was satisfied that he had Frank Douglas' signature down pat and he could lay his hand on a company check.
Speak of the devil… Vince saw the big grey-haired man walk onto the scene wearing swim-trunks and a broad gun, with a drink in his hand. He was tall with heavy shoulders, but softening, a layer of tanned flab and the beginning of a paunch showing his age. Once, he'd probably been quite athletic, Vince thought, watching his mark shaking hands and spreading greetings around amongst smiling, drinking friends. Everyone seemed to like the old boy, or at least they were pretending to… and why not, invited to a free bash like this, servants and the whole smear. Lucky bastard, sitting on his pot of gold… while he walked around with fifty bucks in his pocket and the goddamn finance company trying to locate his Continental. Shit, he had to make his move soon…
A burst of rock sounds filled with twilight, drowning out some of the laughter and voices. Vince watched Lisa with her wide-eyed, skinny boy friend join some of the other teenagers in a series of sensual gyrations they camouflaged under the term "dancing". Paul Fulton reminded him of a jack-o'-lantern the way he was grinning and bug-eyeing the curvy young bitch's near-naked breasts, and Christ, Vince couldn't blame him much. Those firm full mounds were doing a mind-bending dance all their own, like the half-revealed ovals of her rounded ass-cheeks, and there weren't too many of the older male generation present who were missing the attraction. Not that the pool-side was lacking in sexy young female pulchritude, but Lisa Douglas was by far the star, over-shadowed only by her blonde stepmother and she was hiding her voluptuous charms beneath a silky summer-slack outfit as she moved among the guests.
Vince felt his penis stir agitatedly in his pants as he watched the generous curves of the provocative teenager ripple and sway temptingly to the rhythm of the music. Christ, what a delight it'd be to sink his thick cock between those, young, tender thighs. He wondered if she was a virgin? Probably not… rarities these days… but was she wasting it on that scrawny bastard, Fulton? Shit, he didn't look as if he'd know what to do with it… and she was a friendly kid, too, at least she had been so far with him. No come-on or anything like that, but no chill the way blonde Shirley stirred him, either…
Nomad's sudden whimper beside him caught Vince Rivers' attention. He looked down to see the big animal staring in the direction of an approaching redhead. She was smiling down at the mutt, a shapely doll about his own age, Vince appraised, her over-abundance of breasts straining the multi-colored halter trying to harness them. Her hips and thighs were just a little meaty, but maybe it was the tightness of the shorts she was wearing. Christ, the outline of her pussy-lips was as distinct as the part in his hair!
She bent down and petted the dog, giving Vince an ample display of deep white cleavage before beaming him a smile. "You're Vincent Rivers, aren't you? I'm Anita Parsons, next door neighbor," she introduced herself as he stood up catching her hand to hold in a gentle pressure. "I've already met Nomad. He's dropped by for a snack a couple of times…"
I'll bet, Vince thought, nodding and smiling as she rambled on. So, the old Geiger-counter was working true to form… and her hubby was an attorney… probably with some loot stashed, too, but nothing like Daddy Frank was sitting on. Well, she would do for a romp or two if nothing better turned up, the slick con-artist decided, fileing her into his mental archives. And she was turning it on for him like a whore on holiday… Then a couple more neighborhood wives joined her, all with special attentions for the lecherous mutt who always got the gravy before he did, and by the looks of things the four-legged cock-hound had really been getting around.
Vince unleashed the whimpering German shepherd, watching with inner delight the way he began brushing up against the trio in turn to brighten the atmosphere with some scarlet faces. Then, he was off to rub the thighs of a few more, Vince making his excuses and following along to keep score. Christ, the bastard had really been doing all right for himself, though only Anita Parsons looked like anything worth following up. But guests were still arriving, and the party was getting livelier and bawdier; lots of goodies could happen yet. A couple trying to dance with the younger group suddenly fell into the pool. The teenagers were getting more disgusted by the minute. Oh, that generation gap. Vince grinned to himself… and then, he saw Paul Fulton leading Shirley by the hand to the dance area and Lisa's eyes glaring like a pair of jeweled flame-throwers! Yeah, things were getting wilder and wilder, all right!
Frank Douglas wasn't too surprised after he'd raised his hands and asked for quiet, then beckoned his only child to his side, putting his arm affectionately around her slender young waist to feel her recoil. He knew he was drunk and that she hated that, and that she regarded most of their neighbors and friends as a generation of hypocrites with their booze and sleezy infidelities, practicing a "do as I say, and not as I do", philosophy on their children. He was well aware of all that, plus her dislike of Shirley and lack of respect for him in marrying her. But he was in hopes that when he handed her the keys to the new convertible parked in the drive which he'd bought her as a graduation present, she would understand he loved her, and above all that he wanted her to love him as she always had…
Lisa smiled, thanked him, then kissed his cheek while everyone clapped, the cold little imprint of her lips lingering there long after the party was back in full swing. Frank went to the bar and replenished his Scotch on the rocks, bantering meaningless words with grinning-faced guests, feeling empty inside. He saw Lisa in her white shift now, pulling at Paul Fulton's arm as if she were trying to drag him away from dancing with Shirley.
"We're all leaving… come on, Paul!" Frank heard his teenage daughter snap. "This party's getting to be a drag… isn't that right, Stepmother? Come on, hon, I'll let you be the first to drive my consolation prize. We're all going to Jerry's!"
Christ, what had happened to his whole goddamn world? Had he been that wrong in thinking he was entitled to a second helping of happiness after Mavis died? It wasn't as if he'd rushed out like a madman with his cock in his hand looking for someone to stick it into. He'd waited for five years, five lonely years that he never would've been able to endure if it hadn't been for Lisa, along with his work. Then, his blonde angel had come along, but even when he realized that he was crazy in love with her, he'd waited, letting it grow on him, not wanting to make an ass of himself or hurt anyone. And in the end, he'd done just that… wound up an impotent old fool hurting everyone involved.
He watched his beautiful young wife move gracefully away from the teenagers without a word back at his embittered daughter, immediately smiling and joining a circle of older guests. Christ, how he loved her, but he loved his daughter Lisa too, and how could he take sides? He'd hoped that somehow they'd be able to work it out between them, that gradually Lisa's jealous rancor would mellow, but it hadn't, and he knew that Shirley had bent over backward to reach the girl.