My Daughters Best Friend Pt 1

This story is fiction and was originally written in longhand in a spiral school notebook before laptop computers were even invented. Probably while I was at work as a movie theatre projectionist in the early eighties. I first transcribed it into an early word processor around 20 years ago and saved the floppy disks until I bought a modern computer. Here is the text, as is. I hope you like it.

My Daughters Best Friend Pt 1

It was around 3 in the morning and I was sitting at the kitchen table, with my legal pad in front of me, pen in my hand and my mind as blank as a Washington congressman during the winter break. I got up and opened a new box of red wine and poured some for myself. I was wearing only a terrycloth robe and my boxers. It was a full moon and enough light was coming in the window near the table that I didn’t turn the light on. I sat back down and looked at the entrance to the kitchen blankly as I sipped my wine.

I continued drawing up an outline for my next book. I had some ideas for another novel but hadn’t run them by my editor yet. Presently I heard some footsteps coming towards the kitchen. I figured it was either Audrey or Katie coming down for a midnight snack. Audrey is my 17 year old daughter and Katie is her best friend. Audrey and I have been living together for many years now, ever since her stupid drunk mother abandoned us both and took off with a younger male neighbor that had been supplying her with booze and other party materials.

I hired a lawyer to get me a divorce and full custody right away and made out a new will as well. Since then having to raise a young girl by myself has not been the easiest of tasks. Sometimes I think I am too protective with her and sometimes I think I’m too loose; but if I’ve learned one thing it is not to continuously doubt myself, it would not work. And on her side, she has been a great daughter, she listens to me, as long as I’m fairly reasonable, and she has never gotten into trouble. However, in so many ways she’s like her mother, especially her looks. She’s blonde and very beautiful, in a very feminine way. She has her curves; her breasts I imagine are somewhere between a C and a D cup; she knows they’re beautiful and she doesn’t shy away from showing them off in her various ways. Her waist is thin and her hips are full and she often displays the same flirtiness as her mother used to have long before she was born.

Katie is her closest friend, or at least the one I see with her most often. She is in many ways opposite to her in looks, but just as beautiful in her own way. She is taller than Audrey with longer legs and much more athletic. Her hair is black and long, her breasts are a B cup or less and she has the tightest, thinnest body, ass and legs I’ve ever seen on a girl of her age. Not emancipated mind you, just kind of a walking toothpick, I might think this, but I’d never say it.

Believe me, it’s not a very easy thing, trying to keep ones thoughts fatherly with two 17-year old females like that running around my house all the time.

And it turned out to be Katie. She obviously was not aware of my presence in the kitchen and for whatever reason, I didn’t say anything. I might have been busy staring at her ass. She was dressed in a nightgown and a shortie robe. It barely went lower than her little butt – interestingly enough I couldn’t see if she had on anything under it – and she obviously was not wearing her bra, because the shape of her small breasts were quite easily showing through the silky robe, and it was fairly open down the middle. She clearly was not expecting to be seen. She went over to the fridge and opened it. Then she bent over and started looking for something. I quietly sat there and watched as the lip of the robe went up exposing her lovely little ass. She was wearing something underneath after all: a tiny red g-string thong. I smiled to myself, and as I turned my head back down to the legal pad, cleared my throat. She let out a scream, jumped and hit her head on the top of the fridge. Poor thing, I felt bad.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

She faced me quickly and straightened her robe, while I looked away.
“Mr. Turner, I didn’t notice you sitting there.”

“Yes, guessed that. I didn’t realize you were there until the light in the fridge came on. So what brings you down here at 3 in the morning? Insomnia, I assume? Sort of like me.”

She took a deep breath and was back under control of things. “Yes, something like that. She leaned against the counter with her hands clasped in front of her, inadvertently pushing her breasts together, showing me some skin. “I figured, I’d get some juice or something, or maybe watch some TV until I got sleepy again.”

“Well, don’t let me get in the way. I always have trouble sleeping through the whole night and I’m just doing some work.” I pointed my pen towards the legal pad in front of me.

“Oh cool. Hey, then maybe you wouldn’t mind talking for a bit or something, would you sir?”

I put my pen down. “Not at all Katie, it’s not often that an old guy like me gets to chat with a lovely young lady like yourself.”

She smiled and pulled a stool from the kitchen counter and sat down next to the table in front of me. The stool was higher than my chair, which fortunately, or unfortunately, afforded me a clear line of sight to her slim, bare thighs and whatever lay between them every time she crossed and uncrossed them.

“So, what are you writing? Is it a new book?”

“Well, if it works out, it will be someday. If my editor says he likes the idea, so we’ll have to wait and see.”

“Great. What’s it about?”

“Well, it’s kind of a memoir of a young or middle aged man on the verge of death, about his youth, his college days, his past loves, stuff like that.”

“Cool. Is it about your past?”

I chuckled, dangerous question. “Yes and no. You always use some of your own experiences and some of other peoples and you make up the rest. The longer I write the more easily the pages fill up.”

She shifted her long legs, and I got another glimpse at her red thong. I quickly looked back up and I felt bad, because she’d just caught me. I quickly changed the subject.

“So how was your night out with Audrey?”

“Oh same as usual, we came home from the movies and got dressed up in our nighties and started talking about boys, trying to figure out ways of getting a date! Audrey wants me to help you find someone too! She says you’re home alone too much.”

I was a little thrown off by her statement. “What? Are you serious?”

“Of course. You know Audrey really worries about you.”

“Well that’s sweet of her…