This story, as is all stories, isn't written for everyone. If you enjoyed it, thank you very much and you're welcome. If not, thank you for visiting.
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Shelly has a quiet way about her but she can be a bear. We have this really nice house. One of the nice things is the end room at the other end from the garage and kitchen. It's an all-purpose room where we flake out. My back hurts sometimes, sitting so much, so I got one of the chairs that shakes you all over and exercises your muscles. It's very quiet. You can hardly tell its going. Shelly tried it one day and we wound up getting one for her so we vibrate together. It's a family thing. One time we were sitting quietly and she hollered and jumped up, breathing heavily, and looked at me going, 'Oh, Oh, Oh', and ran out of the room.
About ten minutes later she came back with a soda, laughing, and said, "Got you didn't I?"
I said, "Shelly!" But, yeaw she did. She got me. She was laughing and giggling. She had a good time doing that. I was kind of thinking about her having an orgasm right here in the den. I liked that. All through college she used to sit beside me and rub my thigh. I really liked her doing that too. There were other things. She slowly grew out of it.
She loves to go out. She takes me places I probably wouldn't go myself. The fair in the fall and the hot dog stand at the lake in the summer. Sometimes she just sits and watches the boats and sometimes she chats away like a woodchuck. We live on the edge of town, just us two. She has a beautiful VW bug she calls Freddie Mercury because it has a high pitch sound going down the interstate.
I work for the city, in accounting, and Shelly works for a magazine writing articles. I read almost all her articles. Some I don't but I don't tell her. She's almost 23. She's getting an English degree, hence her work. A little at a time I redid an area of the house just for her so she had lots more room and more privacy. She could play loud music and I couldn't hear it. I could feel it but I couldn't hear it. I put a bath in that only had a door to her bedroom so somebody couldn't walk in on her.
I put in a really nice safe exit for her and said it was needed in case of fire but I wanted her to have her own entrance and exit. It came in off the garage so it was convenient and she always parked in the garage. She got used to it and it gave her more independence. She could go in the kitchen from the garage too if she wanted.
Shelly doesn't go out much but you can't tell by her attitude. She doesn't ever give any indication that she's missing something. She doesn't seem to get more intimate with me which I expected since she doesn't seem to have any other outlet. We talked about all the sex on the internet once, as a point of discussion about something she was writing, but it was all academic. Even the really good discussion points. Even got me going there for a little bit.
Then one day she says, "Hi handsome." Well, I am. She says, "I have a friend. His name is James. Would you mind if he joins us? I want you to take a look at him and let me know what you think. College graduate. Lots of money from work, he's in electronic design. Likes to shop and stand around waiting and looking around. Calm. Heady, dresses ok. 23. Very cooperative about things. Likes to go places and do things. Kisses. Hugs. Holds hands. Shivers. Polite. Football, stuff like that."
"Shelly," I said. "It doesn't look like you have much left to check out. Do you want me to be a friend or a dad or a boss or scare him to death? I can get the shotgun out."
"Friendly, dad," she said. "Think of him as your son. Just for the checking out. You can be a stranger later if you don't like him. Dad, he's very friendly. He sort of draws me in. Maybe he's not friendly at all and I'm drawing him in. It's strange. I don't understand it yet. That's why I'm curious."
"Ok," I said. "Should I get him his own chair or do you want to sit on his lap?"
Shelly paused for a moment with her almost serious face on and said, "No, we can sit on the sofa. We were on the sofa at his house last weekend. His mom and dad were there."
I don't know why she said that last part. She's 22 years old. Shouldn't need a chaperone at that age. Maybe it was something else.
James came over the next Friday night. We had pizza rings with peperone slices wrapped in bacon as a side dish. James and Shelly were a lot alike. Looked a lot alike. Same hair color and build, which was understated, as we say. Nice normal build, nothing unusual. Nice face and all. He was very well mannered and it wasn't put-on. He laughed and said funny stuff along in the conversation. He helped Shelly clean up, and he knew what to do, and talked to her a lot throughout.
Current judgment, I like James. He would make a good son. We quieted down and I watched one of my shows and James and Shelly camped out on the sofa. I wasn't watching that much but they were close to each other and James got in some time on her bare thigh with his fingers over inside. Sometimes on her knee. It was natural, not specific. During conversation neither seemed to notice.
When Shelly was bending over some James had his hand on her back, high and low. Shelly seemed to get in her touches and rubs on James. Same thing, just doing it unnoticed by the other. That was a really good thing for me to see. I was very happy she was getting involved just this much. When they said goodnight they stood up right at the sofa and she got her arms around his waist and he around her shoulders and they peck kissed about ten times. Her hands got on the top of his buns but neither one pulled in tight.
The next afternoon Shelly caught up with me in the kitchen. She said, "How do you like James, dad? He seems really confortable to be around, doesn't he?"