Enjoying a lifes Complications – Part 1

INTRODUCTION

I grew up in North England but moved away after my time at university. I was fortunate enough to make good money working in finance and then as an IT consultant. This allowed me to move back North and buy a good house with a large plot of land, a pool, and great modern conveniences. I was also still young enough to enjoy a good social life and stay single. The idea of settling down with a family had never appealed to me. So, I revelled in a healthy dating life through my early 30s and a vibrant social life beyond that. I had a circle of friends who knew me as “the IT consultant.” Most of them were coupled up, living together or married, with children ranging from around 8 to 17. I always thought my life would be complicated by my dating, not my close friend’s daughters.

It had become a norm for most of the larger gatherings of friends to happen at my place. Some insisted on finding dates for me, and one had worked out quite well to the point where she and I may have been in danger of becoming serious. Amy was in her late twenties, and was one of those young women who had pursued her career at the expense of everything else. I wondered if my relaxed, carefree life and obvious financial security were giving her “baby-making” feelings. But she was still fun and not hugely demanding. The word had got around that I may be changing, and this potential shift in my life was starting to create ripples of anticipation and suspense.

Perhaps that was what allowed me to begin thinking the way I did. I would never say it started innocently, as fantasising about teenage girls cannot ever be considered innocent. Both girls may be considered “legal” in my country, but they were still under eighteen. And I was old enough to be their father. However, I am getting a little ahead of myself here.

Obviously, during our social gatherings, it was normal to bring the whole family along; it was, I think, one of the reasons my friends did their darndest to pair me up with someone. What I learned early in my relationship with Amy was that she was deemed responsible by the other couples, and they allowed her to “babysit”, and the kids saw her either as an “Aunt” figure or a “big sister” figure, depending on their age. Of course, due to the pool at the rear of my house, the summer house, and the large space, Amy soon thought it would be a good idea to use my place as a place to look after the kids. It often meant that the kids, girls and boys, would be found at my house after school. Somehow, my association with Amy had also meant I was considered “responsible”. It was likely because I left Amy to the kid herding and stayed away.

It is about time I introduced the girls, who would, it had to be said, bring complications to my life and a host of surprises.

Amy should come first, and the reason I add her will come later in my story; as I said, she was in her late twenties, 28 to be exact, petite everywhere, and a mix of jolly girly girls with bouts of a desire to be almost a tomboy, which I think she was in her younger days. Her skin was soft and almost honey-coloured, and her hair was always a deep chocolatey brunette. She often joked that there was a time she would leave her hair alone, but now it’s long, and free curls took a lot of effort. It brought out her face and brown eyes. I have to admit Amy was a beautiful woman. A sensible man would have been content.

Philippa (or Pip as everyone called her) was 17, 5’3″, with long strawberry blond hair and a cute face due to the almost perpetual smile that reached her soft hazel eyes. Pip was an outgoing, engaging young woman, at least in how she tried to present herself. There were still bursts of her younger self sometimes, and she gushed over kittens and puppies. Yet, she had a confidence that allowed her to mingle with people of various ages, enough to give concerns to her parents with some of the older boys she knew. An irony I would not soon forget.

Miranda was 16, and of course, in contrast to her friend, her long brown hair was curled and highlighted with a soft ombre at its ends. She was far taller than her friend, at 5’8″, and had an athletic body due to her playing hockey for her school and the county, being a runner, and being a semi-serious tennis player. Miranda took her exercise seriously. Miranda had an unusual personality, was quiet and introverted when alone, and was often happy to be in her own company, reading, training, or baking. But she was a dynamo playing hockey, and her team loved her.

My relationship with the girls changed one summer. What drew me to them was different, but I would never have imagined where it took me.

PART 1 – PHILIPPA

One glorious summer day, I saw Pip arrive at the house, walking down my long driveway, wearing her school uniform; her blue blazer, white blouse and tartan blue skirt were worn to just above the knee, and the only skin showing was her lower thighs, knees and shins as the long blue socks followed, she was almost running and so one hand held the straw coloured hat she had to wear to stop if from flying off. Finished off with the typical perfectly buffed leather shoes. At first, it was just my usual response of realising I should let her know as Amy had not arrived yet. So I greeted her at the gate to the rear of the house. I stopped as her smile and body language made it obvious she was happy to see me. Then I thought she looked more than cute; she was filling out that uniform very well, and her breasts formed a wonderful shape in her blouse, especially as the material stretched as she held her hat in place. I hadn’t realised how developed she had become.

“Simon,” she beamed, but a mixed edge to her voice indicated she had seen my eyes linger slightly over her chest. “Am I early?” I thought the question was hopeful, though perhaps I was hearing what I wanted.

“You’re not early; something must have delayed Amy from returning with Miranda,” I told her.