I wake up groggy as fuck, roll over and look around. I'm in bed, alone. It's not entirely unexpected. Lindsay must have made good on her word to stay with Eileen last night so that neither of us would be tempted to make a fatal mistake in responsibility or accountability.
I turn to slide out of bed and realize I'm naked. Not just wearing boxer shorts naked, but completely naked. Naked-naked. I hang my head off the side of the bed and see my boxers on the floor, and then I get a worried feeling as I identify a pair of yellow mesh panties right next to them.
"No, no, no," I say, standing up and looking down. My cock looks normal. I feel it, rub it, stretch it out. There's nothing wrong with it. I don't feel any dry, crusted cum on it, and I remember what Lindsay did the night before and silently nod. No, there wouldn't be anything, now would there?"
I squat down and pick up the panties, looking to make sure nobody is coming in my door, and then I hold them up to my nose and inhale. Lilac and vanilla. I toss them onto my nightstand, grab my boxers, and toss them into the laundry hamper. I notice there are several overly large T-shirts in the hamper, and I go to my drawer and find there's only one left. If they're going to keep wearing them, I'm going to need to buy more.
I open the nightstand drawer and see the box of condoms and the fact that they're open. Why would they be open? I didn't open them. I dump the box out onto the bed and rush to count them. A hundred and ten? A hundred and eight? I check the box--120 count. I realize then someone has taken an entire strip of condoms--12 count. And I assume the worst.
I stuff the condoms back in the box and drop them into the drawer, ready to raise some Caine, but then I slow myself and let my anger simmer down. Maybe Lindsay wanted to put some in the front room. Strategically place some, in case we got into it and needed one fast. I then think of her and Eileen and what she said before about cum and pussy juices. If she's willing to wear Eileen's underwear, she doesn't care much about cross-contamination between their pussies.
I hear Lindsay's bedroom door open, and I listen to them talking about the wardrobe malfunction that's going on. I step out of my room, and Lindsay sees me. A huge smile forms on her face, and then she gasps. "Daddy!"
"What?" I ask, thinking she's trying to play a joke or something.
"Daddy! Put some clothes on!" She says, and I turn just as Eileen walks out behind her.
"Oops! Sorry!" I say, covering my cock as I head back into my room.
"Jesus. Sorry," Lindsay says in an embarrassed way.
"I don't mind," Eileen says offhandedly. "He's got a really nice cock."
"Well... I mind," Lindsay says a bit possessively. I know then that the two of them being in the same house is going to cause an argument. I can feel it.
I'm just stepping into my fresh boxers when Lindsay appears in the doorway, holding both her arms against the jamb as a blockade against prying eyes, except for her own. I pull my boxers up and then grab a T-shirt and pull it on over my head and Lindsay gives me an appreciative look.
"Better?" I ask.
"I... Yeah," Lindsay says hesitantly.
I look back at her and see her eyes focused on my body, observing me. I close my drawer and wave for her to enter my bedroom, and she does.
She's wearing one of her own T-shirts now--a stretchy number with the word "Gurl" written across the chest in big, flowing pink letters. She's also got a pair of pink biker shorts on that hug her every curve and pink footie socks.
I open my arms, and she melts against me, her arms encircling my waist and her head pressing against my chest.
"Everything okay?" I ask.
"Yeah," she replies and sighs.
"You get enough sleep?"
"No," Lindsay says in a tone as if I should have known better. "Eileen kept me up half the night."
"Showing you outfits?" I ask.
Lindsay pulls away from me slowly, giving me a strange look and a sly smirk. "Daddy. You know what we were doing."
I have a look of confusion for a split second, and then my face turns red. Of course, I know what they were doing. What else would they be doing? The imagined image of Lindsay on her back, and Eileen over her, inverted, in a sixty-nine position, comes to mind, and I can see the look on Lindsay's face as Eileen slides her tongue in and out of her center.
"I... sorry. Sometimes I forget," I say, opening another drawer and pulling a pair of pants from it. "You know... a lot of this is new for me. I'm- I mean- we- we weren't a thing until- recently."
"I know," Lindsay says comfortingly. "It's different between girls. It's more of a... pleasing kind of thing. I'm not running off with her t another country." I frown at the comparison and Lindsay's eyes widen with realization. "Daddy, I'm sorry. It was just a figure of speech. I didn't mean it like that."
"It's okay," I say, sliding one pant leg on and then the other. "I get the point."
"I... I'm still sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."
"I'm fine," I say with a sigh. "By the way. Did you open the condoms last night?"
"Oh, yeah. Sorry. Did I wake you up?"
"No," I say truthfully. "I was just wondering because, when I woke up... there were some missing."
"I- I didn't think you'd mind," Lindsay says.
"No, I'm fine with it. I just- didn't know. I was trying to figure out why you might need them."
"Oh!" Lindsay laughs. "Texture. And less cleaning. If you use a condom with toys, you can take it right off. No need to run to the bathroom and wash your vibrator."
My face goes red, and Lindsay smiles at my embarrassment.
"You uh... left your panties in here," I say, motioning to the nightstand.
"My pa-" Lindsay looks and sees what I'm talking about and then slowly walks around the bed to pick them up. "These? Were you in here? Where?"
"Next to the bed," I say. "On the floor."
"Not on the nightstand?"
"No. Why?"
"Nothing," Lindsay says, picking them up and giving them a quick sniff, just as I did. "I probably... dropped them... in the middle of the night."