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Fifteen
Shaw
Fuck!
Fuck!
Fuck!
I’ve gotone helluva erection, a beautiful naked woman on my bed, and I’m so very thankful that we moved this into the bedroom instead of continuing in the living room where this situation could have been a lot more awkward.
Summer’s legs automatically close, with my head trapped still between them. She has some very powerful legs as it took a second for her to release for me to sit up fully.
With a sheepish look on her face, she mouths an apology and then begins to frantically look for her shirt. I pull her pants up quickly and search for my basketball shorts.
“Hold on buddy,” I call out nearly falling head first onto the floor grabbing them from the other side of the bed. I lean over, chastely kiss Summer on the lips and then stand up. She pulls her shirt over her head and then lays in a fetal position on the bed to pretend that she is asleep—then I turn and answer the door.
“Why is your door locked, Daddy?” He asks while I block his from seeing inside the room.
“It’s a habit buddy, I’m sorry. Everything good?”
“I wanted some milk, but my cup isn’t on the counter and I can’t reach the milk.”
“Okay, let’s go get some milk,” I turn and do what I can to hide Summer in my room, but my son is quick and smart as a whip.
“Why is auntie Summer sleeping in your room?” he asks.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“She wasn’t in her room, and I saw her in your room,” he points back towards the bedrooms.
“We were talking.”
“With the door locked?” he asks.
“Mason, sometimes grown-ups need to talk about things privately.”
“Oh, okay, Daddy.”
I return to the bedroom and Summer is still in the position that I left her in. I turn off the light in my bedroom, hoping that she will stay and slide onto the bed beside her. I pull her closer to me and she shakes in laughter.
“That would have been so mortifying, if your door was unlocked and he walked in, while you were—you know,” she turns on her back, throws her arm over her eyes and laughs.
“I would have just said that I was investigating for a tick,” I quip.
“Why a tick?” she turns her head and asks in seriousness.
“Because last year, we went camping, you remember that weekend, well in preschool they were learning about bugs and he thought he had one on his butt, so I had to look. That would have been my automatic go to.”
“Was it a tick?” She questions.
“No, it was a rock from the lake that was in his shorts.” I say with a smile.
She laughs again.
I’m glad that this whole situation didn’t make her run for her bedroom and hide away from me.
“I’m glad we moved from out there to in here, I mean he would have caught us with our pants down, no joke!” she laughs. I join in on the laughter and roll to my back as well. When the laughter dies down, I reach for her hand, intertwine our fingers together and put it on my stomach.
