Family Development Ch. 08: Game Day

All Characters In This Story Are 18+ Years Old

*

The Pasadena morning sun shone bright and warm on June 19, 1977. For Ben James, 43-year old Regional Sales Manager for Warner Lambert pharmaceuticals, Father's Day was off to a great start. He took a second sip of his Bloody Mary, with extra Worcestershire for his hangover, and surveyed his backyard. A deep lawn surrounded by high plastered brick walls, overlaid with bougainvillea, spread below a broad Spanish tiled patio abutting the deck and apron of a full-size swimming pool many community centers would love to have. "Made in the shade, Ben, boy!" He thought to himself under the umbrella canopy of the large white wrought iron table. H squinted at some crushed primroses and scratched up earth in the flower bed behind the green canvas lawn swing. "What the hell?" He wondered, making a mental note to tell Carla to chew out the Mexican gardener. "But not today." He said out loud, putting his old-fashioned glass on the table.

"'Not today' what, dear?" Carla asked, stepping from the kitchen with a pitcher of fresh squeezed orange juice on a tray with four flute glasses. Ben watched his wife set down the tray. She was three years junior to him, but, admittedly, she looked essentially as young and as pretty as she had when he met her in 1958 at a USC fraternity function. As she bent down, her tank top neckline fell away from her and she flashed an unimpaired view of her bountiful breast tops, encased in a plunging underwire bra with daring cups, which exposed the upper inner quadrant of her large areolae. Her thick nipples asserted themselves against the soft white lace. He ogled her and reflected, for the umpteenth time, "What if we hadn't fucked that night?" He shook the thought from his mind as she straightened up and removed the view.

"'Not today, Josephine,'" Ben said with an enigmatic smile, deflecting the question to avoid argument over the flowers.

"Carla laughed. "You mean 'not to-NIGHT, Josephine,' don't you?" She asked, correcting the referenced ubiquitous, but unlikely, quote. "But, anyway, I'm glad to hear it... I haven't recovered from LAST night's romp!" She grinned and winked at her husband.

Ben made no effort to hide his bewilderment. "What the hell are you talking about?" He asked, deciding not to add "You dumb daffy cunt!"

Unfazed by Ben's confused look, Carla replied, "I'm talking about... LAST... NIGHT..." She made goo-goo eyes, licked her lips and sashayed her hips in her khaki culottes, before finishing, "...you TIGER, you!" Carla stepped around the table, kissed the top of his head and asked, "Another Bloody Mary, dear? I'll serve breakfast when I see the whites of Claude's and Kristy's eyes."

"Holy shit!" Ben exclaimed as his mind raced. "Did I... did we..."

"Un-huh... you DID... we DID... and THANK you!" Carla gave the incomplete question an equally equivocal reply.

Claude walked onto the patio just as Ben was saying, "In that case, yes, I'll have another Bloody Mary."

"Easy does it, Dad," Claude cautioned. "You want to be sober enough to duck any foul tips!" He laughed, then noticed his father wasn't understanding the joke. "Didn't Mom tell you I wanted to go see the Dodgers break back on the Cubs today? With you? For Father's Day? Sutton's pitching, so it should be a cinch."

Ben quickly recovered and said, "Oh, yeah. That's 1 p.m., right?" He looked at his Bulova and saw it was not yet quite 10 o'clock. "Well, you're right, son... Hey! Carla!" He called to his departing wife, "Cancel that drink. Coffee and O.J. are fine." He heard Carla acknowledge the change and then said, "Speaking of 'fine', look who's bright-eyed and bushy-tailed!" Ben cast a long lascivious look at Kristy Stauffer, his 22-year old Executive Marketing Assistant Intern, as she joined their company. She wore a white pleated polyester mini-skirt with a bare-midriff red, white and green peppermint-striped puckered rayon halter top. Per usual, needing no structural support, Kristy wore no bra. Her nipples rose like Hershey's Kisses against the delicate fabric crisscrossing her chest. Her smooth, freshly shaved legs tapered into sockless white Keds tennis shoes.

Kristy winked, out of Ben's view, at Claude as she brushed past him between his stomach and the table's edge, trailing her left hand lightly across the crotch of his Levi's. "Thank you, Ben," she said, with a lilt in her voice. "That's sweet of you to say and it's a PERFECT description of how I... FEEL.. this morning!" She flounced a quick spin. The air raised her mini-skirt giving the men a glimpse of skating panties matching the pattern and material of her top. "Do YOU think my tail is 'bushy,' Claude?" She asked, openly teasing him and enjoying his uncontrolled blush.

"Uh... uh...yeah," Claude stammered, wondering how Ben would react.

"She's not hard to look at, eh, Claude?" Ben asked, not caring that the object of discussion stood just a table's width away, but, checking to make sure Carla was still indoors and out of earshot. "Imagine MY pain, son," he went on. "I have to work with that... DISTRACTION ... on a daily basis." He laughed loudly and shook his head. "I STILL don't know how I survived our trip to Seattle and San Francisco!" He patted the chair seat to his right and ordered, "Sit down, Kristy. Carla's about ready to serve breakfast."

Kristy sat as directed and Claude sat, too, to her right, facing Ben. Carla brought out a platter of Eggs Benedict, served everyone, then sat beside Ben, opposite Kristy. Claude picked up a flute of juice and said, "Happy Father's Day, Dad!" The women joined in the toast and the meal began.

Late in the breakfast, during a lull in the conversations, Carla looked across the table at the petite redhead and asked, "Where do you live, Kristy? The men can drop you on their way to Chavez Ravine, or, if it's out of the way, and you can wait, I can drive you home myself."

Oh, thanks, Carla..." Kristy began, but was interrupted.

"She's over in Glendale, Carla," Ben said, neutrally. "We can take her, shoot straight down The Two and make the game easy." He placed his right hand, under the table, high on Kristy's bare leg and squeezed. Extending his pinky, he darted laterally under her skirt's hem and tickled her inner thigh at her panties' leg seam. "We've got season tickets," he explained. "So, even if we come a little bit late, it'll be OK." Ben scratched Kristy's cunny for emphasis when he said 'come a little bit,' and was rewarded by her welcoming damp camel-toe.

"Ohh," Kristy mewled softly. "That's... nice." She widened the spread of her knees, but, Ben pulled back his hand, opting not to further risk discovery by Carla. "You're lucky to have... so many options," she finished breathlessly.

Carla said nothing, but looked slyly askance at Claude, whose left hand, coincidentally, was in his lap as he forked a bite of muffin and Hollandaise into his mouth. He looked back at his mother, with true innocence, but inadvertently bearded his father's tomfoolery. Carla, from her observations of the previous night's pool party, wrongly deduced her son was copping a feel, although she was absolutely correct that Kristy was happily aroused.

"Good!" Ben said with finality. "So, it's settled, then." He drained his orange juice and stood, again consulting his wristwatch. "Well, just because we can walk in late doesn't mean we have to." He said, grinning at Claude and laying his hand gently on Kristy's bare left shoulder point. "Maybe Garvey and Cey will have a Home Run Derby during batting practice." He looked down at Kristy. More particularly, he looked down her halter top for whatever extra skin he could see. "Are you all ready to go?" He asked. She nodded while Claude swallowed his final bite, gave a 'thumbs up' signal as he chewed, and pushed his chair back.

"Carla, I'm going to take Claude out after the game. Make it a real Father-Son bonding day. Don't feel like you have to wait up for us, OK?" He asked rhetorically.

"Mondays are busy days," she said. "I'm sure I'll be asleep before 9 tonight."

*

In the garage, Ben pointed to his brand new, apple green, Cadillac Eldorado, with its shiny black padded vinyl rear roof panel. "Jump in and slide over, Kristy," he directed. "Technically it's a two-seater up front, but, with the arm rest up, a slip of a thing like yourself should be very comfy between a couple of big strong men like us. Right, Claude?" Without waiting for a response, Ben walked, smirking, around the long coupe's hood and got behind the wheel.

Kristy, by sliding her 5-foot 90-pound frame across the rich leather upholstery, hiked her skirt nearly to her waist, again showcasing her peppermint panties. Claude thought, "That's weird... She's not even trying to be modest. Doesn't she care that Dad's here?" The mystery resolved itself for him when, as Ben reached to start the engine, Kristy grabbed his arm with both hands.

"Bennee," she whined, in a strange little girl voice Claude did not recognize. "Don't take me home... yet. I want to come with you and Claude... Pleeeaasse?" She begged, rubbing her hands from under the sleeve of Ben's polo shirt along his furry forearm to his wrist and back as she pouted. For good measure, she squirmed her bottom on the car seat. Claude could not help staring as her ass crack merged, between her twisted legs, with her pussy's lips, clinging to the thin rayon crotch panel. "WHOA! Claude exclaimed to himself, as the situation dawned on him. "Dad's FUCKING her! I FUCKED her! And Mom wants me to DATE her!" The bombs exploded in his head. He drew three conclusions as he worked out the dynamics. First, Kristy liked sex and obviously wanted to fuck both father and son. Second, Carla likely suspected Ben was screwing, or wanted to screw, Kristy and probably hoped Claude would successfully derail the affair if there was one, or prevent it, if it had not yet begun. Third, Ben clearly was unconcerned that Claude knew Kristy was his summer cum-dump and was confident his son would not expose him to Carla.

Claude sank back into the passenger seat as the Caddy rolled down the driveway. "Dummy up, bud," he cautioned himself. "That's the way to play it. Dad and Kristy must never know about my 'Fuck Week' with Mom!"

*

On the other side of the Eldorado, Ben snaked his right arm around Kristy and drove left handed. He amused himself by blatantly pushing his right hand through her crisscrossed halter front and repeatedly plucking and releasing her left titty.

"Uuunnn," Kristy moaned, pasting herself to Ben. "That makes me so fucking WET Bennee..." she cooed. "Can we go to my house and just... huhhhnn... SKIP the ballgame?"

"No, Little One," Ben declined. "This is an important day for Fathers and Sons. We can all play together later." He glanced across her at Claude, who was ignoring them and staring out the side window at passing traffic. Ben pulled his hand away from Kristy's nipple and slid it over her hip. He worked his way between her legs, wiggling two fingers under her panties and into her dripping pit. She clawed his chest with her right hand as he slowly slid in and out.

"Yoooo... uhnn... are a rat bastard, Bennnneee!" Kristy panted as her orgasm came on and on. "and I... Luuhh... LOVE it!"

Ben continued slowly steadily dipping his digits into Kristy's slit, like a Baldwin Hills oil derrick, for the duration of the drive. She pumped her ass back and forth, crying quietly on his stomach, losing herself in the nonstop ecstasy, until she heard Ben say, "Sit up straight, Little One, we're pulling into the stadium parking lot." He retracted his sticky hand and licked her redolent juice from his fingers,

*

Claude was right. Don Sutton pitched his eighth win. Lee Lacy and Ron Cey homered, for 2 of the runs in the 3-1 victory, but there were no foul balls near the James' box seats behind the Dodger dugout at first base. The game was over by 4 o'clock, however it took another two hours in the Sunday Holiday LA traffic to get to the Glendale bungalow Kristy rented with two girlfriends.

Ben parked the Cadillac in the driveway and Kristy slid out the driver's side behind him. "Come on you guys!" She cried, excited to be home. She led them up the walkway and unlocked the front door. "Jenna's in Portugal until July and Maggie left yesterday for a week in Lake Tahoe with her boyfriend. We have the whole house to ourselves" She bounced on her heels, and her boobs bounced in their hammock, as Ben and Claude entered the cottage.

"There's a phone and some take-out menus on the wall in the kitchen," Kristy pointed out, breezing into the living room. "I'm putting some music on. Could we get a pizza or some Chinese delivered?" She laughed. "Those hot dogs at the stadium are wearing off!"