My Girls and I

Author's Note:

Hello all. My very first submission here, so if you like the way I write, please leave comments and rate. If I get enough interest, I'll start working on Chapter 2. Some of you may not be happy that I didn't jump right into the sexy stuff, but I prefer a slow burn. There will be plenty more to come if, as I say, I get enough interest.

All characters are 18 years or older.

Thanks all, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1

The plane touched down in Tampa, coming from D.C., and Bobby disembarked with the rest of the passengers. People nodded respectfully to him as he passed, his desert camo fatigues drawing their eyes. He was 23, his hair was a deep brown, almost black, close cropped to the skull but starting to grow out a bit to give him a slightly fuzzier look than he usually allowed himself. He kind of liked it, though, how it felt under his hand when he rubbed the back of his head. He headed over to the baggage carousel and waited with the rest of the passengers heading for their respective destinations. He reached out and picked up the thick duffel with the name R. Masterson stenciled on the side. He lifted it over his shoulder and turned crisply toward the outer doors.

Stepping outside, he pulled his cover from where it was rolled up in his back pocket and put it on, looking around for a cab he could take to his family home. They had no idea he was coming, so he had to figure this out on his own. The next moment, he knew he wouldn't have to.

"HOLY SHIT! Bobby Masterson is that you, you son of a bitch?!"

His head whipped toward the sound of the loud, obviously male voice and suppressed a grin. He put on a scowl for effect, "What the fuck did I tell you about insulting my mother, shithead?"

A fairly big guy, lean but well muscled, pushed through the crowd of departing people with a mock contrite look on his face, "C'mon, bro, you know I love your mama."

"A little too fucking much, in my opinion," said Bobby, his grin finally breaking free.

The guy burst out laughing, knowing that Bobby knew his mom had been a total MILF when they were growing up. The two embraced roughly and Bobby shoved him back, "What are you doing here, shitstack? Not even my mom or my sisters know I'm coming in today." His best friend and the brother he'd never had, Sean, snorted in reply.

"As if I'm here for your dumb ass. I was supposed to pick my mama up from her flight, but no one told me she missed her layover and isn't coming in until tomorrow. You need a ride, dipstick?"

Bobby snorted right back, "I dunno, have you bathed recently, you smelly fuck?"

Sean rolled his eyes, "Come on, my truck is in short term parking."

The two laughed and talked as if they hadn't been apart for the last six years as they went to Sean's truck. As Bobby threw his duffel in the bed, Sean tossed him the keys. Bobby looked confused, throwing him a question glance as his friend got into the passenger side of his own truck.

"We're less likely to get a speeding ticket if you're driving, Gunny," he laughed.

Bobby rolled his eyes and got in behind the wheel, "You really are the shittiest influence in my life, you know that?"

Laughing again, Sean replied as the headed toward the exit of the parking garage, "What's the point of serving your country if there aren't any perks?"

Shaking his head, Bobby pulled out of the garage and rolled the windows down, letting in the humid Florida air. It was easily ninety to ninety-five degrees out, but there was a decent breeze coming in. It felt good to be home. The desert was great and all, but he'd missed the moisture in the air. As they got onto I-4, heading for I-75 North, it effectively cut off their chatter, the wind roaring in through the open windows.

As they drove, Bobby lost himself in thought, going over the events of the past month. It had all started by interrupting a gangrape. Four guys had cornered one of the female friends he'd made in the Corps, and as soon as he'd seen what was happening, he'd started throwing punches, freeing the woman and letting her help kick the shit out of her would-be assailants. MPs had found the four on the floor and had woken them up, only to have the four of them accuse Bobby and the girl of assaulting them, unprovoked. The conflicting stories had had them both up before the Base Commander, offering them a reduction in rank or an honorable discharge with no offer of re-enlistment.

Bobby had been furious that nothing was happening to the four would-be rapists and had had to grit his teeth to avoid having his honorable discharge turned into a dishonorable and criminal charges being filed. His friend had also taken the discharge and they'd caught the same flight back to D.C. from Afghanistan. They'd spent some time adjusting to what had happened, dealing with the amount of bullshit that had been heaped on them by the guys in their unit for taking the discharge. A couple of weeks later, they'd gone their separate ways, her to Ohio to be with her family, him to Florida to be with his own.

He came to his senses as he followed the familiar roads back home. Home. He'd been home just twice in the past six years. Once for his father's funeral, two years after he'd joined up, and once when he'd gotten back from his last deployment. His mother had been on the mend, that second time, his three sisters living at home and helping her out. As he pulled up in front of the house he put the truck in park, plenty of memories washing over him as he looked at the slightly run-down façade, the slightly unkempt lawn. But the American flag that hung outside was still flying at half-staff.

He looked over at Sean, who nodded quietly, letting him have his moment. Bobby took a deep breath and then held out his close fist to Sean, who bumped it, "Good luck, bro. I can already hear the squeals of excitement."

Bobby grinned a little at his friend, knowing his sisters and mother all too well. He got out, grabbed his duffel and then headed up the drive toward the door. He tested the knob before entering fully, sweeping his cover off his head and twisting it up, looking around the mostly familiar living room. There was a new leather sectional, a U-shape in front of the dark flat screen, his mother's knickknacks scattered about the room. He took a deep breath through his nose. It didn't

quite

smell like home, but it was there, under the overtones of his mother's favorite scented candles.

A figure suddenly came out of the kitchen, holding three plates in her hands, a confused look on her face. She was early forties, with deep gold curls framing her pretty face. There were more lines there than he remembered, but Angela Masterson was still a knockout. She was in incredible shape for her age, busty, with a flare to her hips and good sized thighs that hid a wealth of good muscle, but retained that feminine softness that was so appealing.

Her face was a mask of confusion and the spark of anger that someone would just walk into her home without so much as a knock. But when she saw the smile breaking over her son's handsome face, his father's smile, the plate dropped from nerveless fingers, shattering on the floor before she put a hand to her upper chest, as if to still her racing heart.

His smile only got bigger as he saw the tears of joy welling up into her eyes and he spoke softly, "Hey, mom. What's for lunch?"

She flung herself across the room with a low cry, wrapping him up in a tight hug, crushing her baby boy, her firstborn, to her chest in a death grip, "Bobby, oh my God!" Her voice barely rose above a whisper she was just too stunned to manage any more volume.

Bobby held her tight, and without the two inch heels she was wearing, she would have been almost four inches shorter than him. He held her tight as a shout came from down the hall, where the ground floor bedrooms were located, "Mom? Is everything okay?"

It was a feminine voice, and one he knew well. At the sound of it, Angela pulled back, fresh tears falling from her eyes to look at her son, "Ah, c'mon, mom. Don't cry. You're gonna get me started." His voice was already thick with emotion.

Having not gotten a reply, the speaker from down the hall came to investigate and saw the wreckage of the plates, then turned to look at her mother standing in front of the door, hiding another figure from sight, "Mom?"

Angela turned and suddenly Bobby was looking at his younger sister. The eldest of his three sisters, Stella was ridiculously stunning. At 22 years old, she had long dirty blonde hair down to the middle of her back, a cute, heart-shaped face, full lips. She was chesty, like her mother, easily a D-cup, with the same flare to her hips. She looked dumbstruck as she looked full into his face, and then she let out a squealing scream, "BOBBY!!" She sprinted around the couch and threw herself into his arms, wrapping her legs around him and forcing him to catch her. He grinned, "Hey, sis. Good to see you too." She was almost incoherent with crying and hyperventilating in excitement.

Her exuberance had drawn out another figure from another room on the ground floor. Megan was 20, and she looked confused and angry at the noise. She broke the mold in the family, inheriting their grandmother's auburn hair that hung to her shoulders, an athletic build with C-cups. She was also shorter than her mother and sister by about an inch. Her hips were narrower, coupled with her athleticism afforded her a spectacular ass. She saw Bobby's face over Stella's shoulder and her entire face lit up as she vaulted over the couch and closed with her sister's back, hugging both of them just to get in on the action.

Bobby laughed, "Jesus, you two, it's not like I came back from the dead!"

Angela smacked the back of his head, "Hush, you. They missed you like crazy."

"Yeah, big brother, no one will go running with me when you're not here!" This from Megan, who still hadn't let either of them go.

Bobby grinned, "You mean to one will let you dust their ass? Poor baby." Angela smacked the back of his head again.

Eventually the two girls released him and stood back, bathing him in radiant smiles. He took in their faces, then looked up and frowned, "Where's Hannah?"

Their faces fell slightly at the mention of the youngest of the family, Angela speaking up, "She's probably at her boyfriend's. I'll call her and make sure she comes home for your welcome home dinner." From her tone of voice and the looks on her faces, he could tell they didn't like the guy. His frown deepened, reserving judgement for the moment, but trusting their instincts.

Angela had moved away, getting her cell and making the call to Hannah. Megan moved to grab his duffel and he shook his head, taking it from her, "So, I take it I'm sleeping on the couch. No chance you two are still sharing a room?"

Megan snorted, "Shut it, punk, or I won't let you sleep in my room while I bunk with Stella."

Bobby grinned, "Nice, real ladylike."

Stella laughed, "She's getting worse, too. She's taking over your role of resident potty mouth."

Bobby arched a brow and shook his head, "Like hell she is. I will fucking wash your mouth out with soap if you try."

Megan stuck her tongue out at him and flounced away, calling, "Hypocrite!"

Bobby couldn't help looking at that perfectly shaped ass moving away from him. He shook himself out of it when Stella nudged him, and he moved to follow Megan back toward her room, where it seemed he would be sleeping until he found a place for himself.

Stella followed, a big smile on her face, glad to have her brother home. They chatted as he made his way into Megan's room. It had been his old room, and as she was the most like him, she hadn't changed all that much. She wasn't the girly-girl type, with frills and lots of pink shit. They caught him up on their lives, college, jobs, things of that nature. When Megan had cleared out the stuff she couldn't live without for even so much as a night, he set his duffel in the corner as they left to let him get changed. He took off his fatigue jacket, folding it and setting it aside and sighing at it. That chapter in his life was over. He knew it would never leave him, with all the shit he'd done, and seen, the friends he'd lost. But he also knew it was time to move on to a new chapter in his life. Since he didn't have any normal clothes he left his cover and jacket lying on the bed and went back out to the kitchen.

He entered to see his mother and sisters all working on lunch together, making sandwiches, big goofy grins on their faces, one and all. He smiled, just watching them. It was also starting to sink in that his sisters had grown up. Two of them, anyway. He still had hope for Hannah, but it was fading fast. His brief visits had clued him in to this fact, but as he watched them now, he suddenly started to really believe it.

Angela was the first one to notice he was there and smiled, tilting her head, "Penny for your thoughts, honey?"

Bobby gave them all a lopsided grin, "Just admiring a trio of beautiful women." They laughed.

"Not enough girls in the Marines for you, big brother?" Stella asked.

He shrugged, "Not NEARLY enough. Though I did find myself a fuck buddy for my last deployment."

They laughed, his mother shaking her head and Bobby faked a confused look, "What? I'm a man with needs. Besides, when that whore I was dating when I left broke up with me, I couldn't exactly jerk off to the pictures I had of her. I hated her too much."

All three women's faces shifted. His mother's was one of commiseration, Stella practically had 'I told you so' stamped on her forehead, and Megan just looked angry. Bobby moved past them and smacked Stella's ass, hard. She squealed and lashed out at him, but he dodged it easily, heading for the table, calling, "Shut it, you."

Stella pouted, "I didn't say anything!"

"But you were thinking it."

She sighed in defeat, "Fair point."

His mother and Megan both laughed and Bobby chuckled, settling in at the table. As they moved to join him, sitting around him, his mother put a sandwich in front of him and he dug in. They ate in silence for a while and when they were all finished, Angela looked at her son, admiring him as he leaned back in his chair, "So how long do we have you for?"

Bobby smiled at the three of them, all of them with the wheels turning in their heads, trying to map out how to get the most time with him over the coming weeks of his leave.

He shrugged, "Until you kick me out or I find a place of my own. Whichever comes first."

He grinned at the shocked look on their faces, and Megan recovered first, "Really? You're really home? For good?"

Bobby chuckled, nodding. All three women let out a cheer and swamped him in hugs again. He couldn't help but laugh, and as they went back to their seats, "Well, I don't want to disrupt your plans too much, so go on about your day. Mom, do you still have some of my old stuff out in the shed? I'm probably gonna need a bunch of new clothes, but until I get myself a truck or something to get around in I don't really have a way to get new stuff. Plus I don't really have the space."

She nodded as she gathered up the plates to wash them, "Oh don't worry about that, honey. There are a couple of boxes in the shed with some clothes, but when your father died we couldn't bring ourselves to sell his truck, so it's just sitting in the garage waiting for you."

Bobby's mood turned somber as he nodded, sinking into memories of his dad. Fishing trips, car shows. At the very least, it would be easier because his father hadn't bought the truck until after Bobby had gone into the Marines, so the truck itself wouldn't hold any special memories. He took a deep breath, seeing their concerned looks, "I'll be fine. Ya'll go ahead and do what you need to do." He stood, kissed both Megan and Stella on top of their heads, then went out into the cavernous garage, grabbing the keys hanging by the door.

He checked to make sure he had his wallet and his phone, then looked at the black Chevy, opening it up and hitting the button for the garage door. Behind him, he could see Stella moving her car out from behind him and up behind Megan's, and once the coast was clear, he backed out nice and slow, waving at Stella as she went back up to the house. He headed for the nearest mall, figuring he'd just buy a few things at the Gap or something.

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Stella and Megan went back to get things settled in Stella's room. Both of them were quiet, their minds and emotions awhirl. It had been so long since either of them had been around him for any decent length of time, and with the revelation that he was here for good left them reeling. He hadn't been around, not really, in six years. What would it be like, having him here, in the middle of their lives again?

Stella, for her part, had been the oldest when he'd left at sixteen, so she had been the most comfortable around him. She knew he was good looking, of course, judging by the fact that all of her friends had gushed about him every time he walked by them, anywhere. But she hadn't been prepared for the way he felt with her clinging to him like that.

Megan, for her part, had been fourteen when he'd left, still coming out of her awkward phase. What no one knew, was that she'd had a massive crush on her big brother. She'd practically idolized him, which was why she'd gotten into sports and had become so athletic. To be closer to him. His return, his permanent return, was a mixed bag. Mostly happy, but how was she going to cope with having him here, every single day?

Angela, who was downstairs, was lost in her memories. He looked so much like his father. That dark hair, the shape and strength of his jawline, and those eyes. It made her breath quicken, her heart pound. He shoved that feeling away. He was her son! And no matter how much he wished he might be, he would never be his father. She went about the rest of her day, going out to the store to get some things for dinner tonight, swearing that if Hannah didn't get home in time, she'd burn the little pissant's house to the ground.

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Bobby spent the next few hours, after picking up some clothes, driving around his home town, looking at all the familiar places. He saw a few familiar places as well, waving at them out the window. He stopped at one of the mom and pop convenience shops and got himself a bottle of water, the man behind the counter, a man old enough to be his grandfather calling him Gunny and giving him a firm handshake on the way out. He smiled and waved to people who reacted to his pristine white shirt, fatigue pants, and polished black boots.

It was five by the time he pulled back up to the house, and he got out of the truck, bringing his bags with him, and headed up to the house. His mother smiled at him, looking up from where she was cutting up veggies for dinner, "Hey, honey."

Bobby smiled, "Hey, mom. Where is everyone?"

She laughed, "They're out getting you presents to welcome you home. I have no idea what Hannah is up to, though. I swear, if that girl misses dinner I'm going to make sure she can't sit down for a week."

Bobby shrugged, "It's alright, mom. She doesn't have to be here. I don't wanna upend your lives just because I'm home."

Angela shook her head, her mood changing, "She needs you, Bobby. She turned cold after your father died and she's only getting worse. She's closed off and she snaps at the slightest provocation. The boyfriend of hers isn't helping either."

Bobby sighed, "Let me go change and we'll talk." He headed into Megan's room and shut the door, changing swiftly into a pair of shorts and a plain dark grey shirt. He came back out and moved to help his mother with dinner, "So, give it to me, mom. What's going on with Hannah?"

She sighed, "I don't want you to feel bad about this, now, but it really started when you left. She faced some pretty rough times, wondering why you left and asking if it was her fault. When your father passed, she took it even harder, just as she was coming into her own. Two emotional blows like that hit her self-esteem hard, I think. She gained weight, and then when she was sixteen she met Andre."