Lydia's Dad--Summer Vacation

The next morning Lydia surprised Delia bright and early with a day booked at the spa. Delia, for once, had no trouble getting up. The thought of getting pampered and indulged all day sounded good to her.

The spa, Le Soleil, offered just about everything a girl could want and Delia and Lydia signed up for most of them.

They started off with an exfoliating wrap, then a mineral soak, followed by facials, manicures, and pedicures.

By the time they got back to the house it was well after lunch and they found Will lounging on the couch in the family room watching TV.

“You two look all shiny and new,” Will said when the girls walked in.

“What’d you do all day?” Lydia asked as she and Delia slumped to the couch.

“Watched TV, shot some hoops, took a nap. It’s nice just lazing around the house all day and not doing a thing.”

“Aww,” Lydia said, scooting up on her knees beside Will. “Will’s actually had to work this summer,“ she said sympathetically. “And his dad’s a hard ass.”

Will nodded.

“Poor boy,” Delia said sardonically.

“I know,” Lydia said, her voice sugary. “What can I do to make it up to my poor boy?”

With a sly smile Will leaned over and whispered something into Lydia’s ear.

Lydia grinned back, and without saying a word, she took him by the hand, and led him out of the room. Presumably upstairs.

“I’ll just be here!” Delia yelled in their direction.

They didn’t answer.

Delia lay back on the couch and sighed. She hated opportunities to think about her life. Or her lack of life. Sure, she was having a great time at the beach so far. She was pretty much getting all the Grant she wanted and her tan was improving every day. But what must she seem to everyone else? She had no job, technically no apartment, and no boyfriend. Technically. Lydia sided with Delia no matter what, but what must she really think? Why couldn’t Delia keep Patrick? Why couldn’t she get things worked out with him?

The reason’s sitting in a corner office somewhere down town.

To this day, Delia couldn’t believe she’d managed to bag Mr. Turner. The coolest dad, the cutest dad. Lydia’s dad. Delia’s plaything.

Well, wasn’t he?

What was Mr. Turner to Delia?

What was Grant to Delia?

Delia knew what he was to her. The real question was what was she to him?

She thought about it until she drifted off to sleep.


It was late afternoon by the time Lydia and Will came back down, looking all the better for it. Delia had napped and watched TV and eaten an apple and otherwise done absolutely nothing. They were all three just tucking in to some popcorn and a horror flick when Grant called to tell them he was going to be really late and not to wait on him for dinner.

This only brought joy to the hearts of Lydia and Will, but Delia was disappointed. No afternoon delight for her.

After the movie they played cards and watched some TV before eventually fixing a low-key dinner of sandwiches and potato chips.

It was barely nine when Lydia and Will excused themselves to bed. Apparently they were still celebrating their anniversary.

But Delia didn’t mind too much. After all, if they were busy with each other, she could get busy with Grant.
She watched some TV, then sat out on the deck and looked at the stars and listened to the waves crashing yards away; she watched more TV, checked her voicemail, read last week’s issue of Time, then finally trudged upstairs to her room where, after midnight, she fell asleep still waiting for Grant.


The next day Delia was in a terrible mood. She missed seeing Grant last night and of course he was gone before she got up today. That was a whole day wasted. She looked down at her pink and black bikini and frowned; what was the point of such a sexy bathing suit when the guy she was trying to impress never left the office?

She, Lydia, and Will had hit the beach early making up for their lost day yesterday. It was hot, Lydia and Will were being all cutesy, and Delia was miserable. And it didn’t help matters when they all got in the ocean and Delia stepped on a broken seashell, cutting her second toe.

She went inside grumbling, and bandaged up her foot.

Surprisingly the rest of the day went by rather quickly. Possibly because Delia managed in a four hour nap that came out of nowhere. Or it perhaps came from the pain pill she had taken to stop the shooting throbs that were emanating from her foot.

She awoke in a better mood and this time Grant managed to make his way home only a little past nine, barely saying hi before closing himself off in his office. Delia was dying to see him but had to wait three more hours until everyone else was asleep.

Feeling like a kid on Christmas morning, she went up to his office

She knocked, and when she didn’t get an answer, she went on in, closing the door behind her.

Grant was on the phone with his feet propped up on his desk talking rather animatedly in another language. He motioned her forward but continued talking, saying what, Delia had no clue. She took the time to look him over and wasn’t disappointed. His suit looked a little rumpled and he was clearly tired, but still knee-weakening gorgeous.

He began looking at some papers on his desk and saying what Delia only guessed were numbers before finally hanging up.

“That was hot,” she said with a smile.

“No it was German.”

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in a week.”

“I feel like I haven’t seen anyone in a week.”

“What exactly do you do, Mr. Turner?” she asked with a grin, walking over to him and climbing up on his lap.

“I make money.”

“Lydia tried to explain once. Something about take-overs and currency. I don’t think she really knew.”

“I don’t know half the time.”

“You’ve been working so hard.”

He nodded. “I need sleep. Badly.”

Delia gave him a mischievous sort of grin. “Is that all you need?”

“I’m off tomorrow. If I can just get some sleep tonight. . . .” he trailed off and pulled Delia to him in a kiss.

“I guess I can wait one more day,” she said when they pulled apart. “But before I go. . . .” She reached up and began unbuttoning his shirt, doing it all the way before Grant spoke up.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she said with a sly grin. She dropped her lips to his neck and began kissing him. “Mmm, you smell so good.” She began kissing and licking her way down his body, stopping to lick and suck on his hard nipples.

Grant moaned out and Delia grinned seeing a bulge developing in his pants. She slipped her hand down and stroked him a few times before unzipping him and dropping to her knees. She looked up at him, then back down to his obvious erection and leaned in, taking the head past her lips.

Grant groaned out and let his head fall back against the chair.

Delia softly sucked for a few seconds before releasing him and leisurely licking up and down the length of his cock. She teased him, stabbing her tongue out over the sensitive head and nipping it with her teeth, but not actually sucking it into her mouth.

Grant sighed and relaxed himself in the chair, letting her mouth ease his long, hard . . . day.

At his urging, Delia licked her way back down Grant’s cock, taking the head in her mouth and sucking.
Grant moaned and thrust himself into Delia.

Grinning at his reaction, she moved her mouth up and down, up and down, sucking on as much as she could.

Beneath her Grant twisted in his seat, groaning and sighing out at every movement of her mouth.
Delia slid her teeth ever so gently down the shaft and then sucked the head back in her mouth and with a groan, Grant came like a cork popping.

She barely had time to get up before Grant pulled her to him in a long kiss that made her blood boil.

“That was—” he broke off, shaking his head when they finally pulled apart.

“Glad I could help,” she said with a smile.

“More than you’ll ever know,” he said.

Placing another kiss on his lips, Delia slipped off him and stood up.

“Get some sleep now,” she said, then turned and left for her room.

She’d be sleeping well tonight.


Thursday arrived muggy and hot with a rough ocean from the brief but powerful storm that caught everyone by surprise that night. It was decided that it was the perfect day for lounging by the pool instead of the ocean.

Since Grant finally had a day off and he’d been working nonstop, Lydia didn’t protest a bit when they found him out by the pool that morning. He could stay, she told him. That’d be fine.

Delia thought it would be fine too. With her sunglasses on, no one would be able to tell that she was staring at Grant’s magnificent body all day. With the thought that he might join them, she’d worn one of her favorite suits; a white halter-bikini with little pink dots that went great with her hair and did wonders for lifting and pushing out her breasts.

“So dad,” Lydia said in a chair opposite him, “how’s Taylor?”

Delia frowned.

“Well, I’m sure,” Grant said.

“Do you see her a lot at work?” Lydia asked.

“We’re on different floors,” he said not really answering.

“She’s pretty.”

Grant nodded noncommittally.

“Are you going to go back out with her?” Lydia finally blurted out.

“That wasn’t a date,” Grant said.

“Well, are you going to go out with her?”

“Not anytime soon,” he said.

“Why not?” she asked with a bit of a whine.

“Because,” he said firmly.

And that was the end of it.

“So, you have plans for today?” Will asked Grant.

“Yes, this. Nothing,” he said.

“Good plan,” Will said.

“And I think I’m going to start right now with a nap,” Grant said, folding his hands over his stomach and closing his eyes.

“You know, I think I’m going to do the same but inside,” Delia said.

“I want to try the beach,” Lydia said standing. “Let’s see how bad it is.”

“It’s probably cold,” Will grumbled.

“Let’s go,” Lydia said, pulling Will’s arm.

“Be careful,” Grant called out.

Delia waited until Lydia and Will were all the way down on the beach before standing up. “Asleep Mr.
Turner?” she said, her voice coy.

“Turns out I’m not,” he said.

“Hmm, I think I’ll go inside.”

She turned with a grin and walked to the sliding glass doors and went into the kitchen.

She counted out five seconds.

Grant appeared in the doorway.

“Gonna nap inside?” she asked with a grin.

He shook his head.

Still grinning, Delia jumped in his arms and he carried her upstairs to her room, where she was barely able to push the door up with her foot before Grant was on top of her.


Out on the beach Lydia and Will made their way gingerly into the roaring ocean.

“It’s actually not so bad,” Lydia said.

Will looked at her incredulously.

“I’ve seen it worse,” she shrugged.

“I’m sure there’s a red flag up on the public beaches,” he said.

“Couldn’t you save me if anything happened?” she asked with a smile.

“Who’s gonna save me?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Me,” she said, and put her arms around his neck in a kiss.


“Mmm,” Delia moaned as Grant’s head nestled itself between her breasts. Her entire bathing suit was already on the floor somewhere and Grant seemed eager for physical contact.

Her head dug into the pillow as he generously sucked on a perky nipple. Delia left one hand on the bed and brought the other up to weave through Grant’s light hair. Mixed among the light brown was dark blonde and mixed among that was gray. God it was sexy.

He took his time with her, sucking and licking and nipping his way down her chest. He seemed . . . what was the word for it?

Ravenous.

His tongue dipped and twisted and danced down her body until it was wriggling inside her.

“Oooh,” Delia moaned, both her hands now clawing at Grant’s head. “Mmm, Grant, yessss.”

His head moved up and down between her legs slowly and surely making Delia babble incessantly.
“God Grant!”

His tongue was so good, so certain and swift and always managed to slip so deep inside of her.

She cried out again and pulled Grant up to her.

“I need you inside me now,” she hissed in his ear. “Please,” she added in a beg.

“I love it when you say please,” he said heavily.

“Please, please, please,” she said in a rush as she untied his board shorts.

Grant let Delia pull his trunks down his body then shimmied the rest of the way out of them. He slid his hands up Delia’s sides to her arms and clasped her hands with his, flattening them to the bed.

Then he slid inside her with a groan.

Delia’s was pitched a little higher, but otherwise matched his. She pressed her arms into the bed and thrust her body up to meet Grant’s, moaning out.

He slid into her, again and again, each thrust deeper and deeper.

She tried to fling her arms up but Grant’s pinned them down and the restriction only heightened her smoldering desire for him.

“Grant!” she cried out, bucking her body toward his.

Grant bent his head and dipped his tongue in her mouth; Delia eagerly thrust her tongue out to meet his. They kissed for several seconds before Delia broke off with a cry as Grant shifted inside her.
Her hands grabbed at his as their bodies pushed against each other’s and with another moan, she came.
Delia pressed her body into the mattress and sucked in a breath as her body shuddered beneath Grant.
He continued pumping into her until he came a minute later.

“Mmm,” Delia moaned, when Grant let go of her hands. She reached for Grant’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss.


“You want to go out tonight?” Lydia asked Will.

“On a Thursday?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Why not? We can go to a bar, we don’t have to club it.”

“I’m always up for a bar,” he said.

“Go find Delia and see if she’ll go with us.”

“Why can’t you?” he asked.

“I’m trying to get proper coverage,” she said motioning to the sun.

“We can just wait until we go in.”

“Also I’d like a bottle of water please.”

He frowned at her.

“Now,” she said firmly. Then added, “Please.”

With an annoyed sighed, Will stood. It was better to keep her happy than risk pissing her off. She was being awfully accommodating lately and Will only wanted more of that.

He quickly trudged up to the deck, the hot sand burning his bare feet and the cement surrounding the pool being no less forgiving.

Mr. Turner had gone inside too and Will just knew that wasn’t a good sign. God they were risky. And for someone Mr. Turner’s age . . . apparently virile.

Inside it was freezing, like always and Will called out Delia’s name just in case she happened to be within hearing distance.

She didn’t answer.

“Damn,” he said.

He started for the stairs.

Maybe Delia really was taking a nap. And Mr. Turner too. After all, he’d really been burning the midnight oil. He was bound to be tired.

Once upstairs he went straight to Delia’s room and was about to knock when he realized he didn’t have too. The door was open a good five inches. Just enough for Will to have a perfect view of the bed.
And the people in it.

Delia was sitting on top of Mr. Turner and they were talking in low tones, Will not quite able to make out what they were saying. Whatever it was though, he was sure he shouldn’t be hearing it. Or seeing it.

Look away you bastard, he told himself. Leave now!

But he couldn’t.

Delia was perched on Mr. Turner like some sort of trophy and her top half was in full view.

God she’s beautiful, he thought. What!? Shut the fuck up and go! he scolded himself.

Delia and Mr. Turner kissed.

Go, go, go you Peeping Tom.

Mr. Turner’s hands slid up Delia’s stomach to each cup a breast.

Get the fuck out of here Will!

Delia moaned into Mr. Turner’s mouth. He broke the kiss and rolled her over to her back, then started kissing her neck and down her chest.

She moaned again.

Will’s dick sprang to life.

That did it.

He quietly backed away from the door and down the hall, then practically ran down the stairs. He went through the house to the kitchen and out the sliding doors to the deck, stopping to quickly dive in the pool.

He wasn’t taking any chances.

When he finally got back to Lydia she was looking irritated.

“What took so long?” she asked.

“She was asleep,” he quickly said. “I didn’t want to wake her.”

“Oh. Why are you wet?”

“Um, I got really hot and jumped in the pool.”

Lydia gave him a weird look. “Well, where’s my water?”


Lydia did her best to persuade Delia to go out with her and Will that evening but it was all in vain. Delia didn’t feel like being another third wheel and told them she’d probably just go to bed early. Lydia tried her best to assure Delia that she wouldn’t be in the way but it was no use.

She walked with them to the door wishing them a good night and promising to go out with them the next time.

Back in the family room Grant was on the couch watching TV.

“You know you could have gone with them,” he said when Delia appeared in the doorway.

“I know,” she said.

“You don’t have to spend every free minute with me.”

“Did you not want me to stay?” she asked, sitting down beside him.

“I’m glad you stayed,” he said pulling her close to him.

“So did you have a nice day off?” she asked.

“I did,” he said with a smile. “I could use about ten more of them.”

“Don’t you have some vacation coming up?”

“Well, I had a week in February, I had a week in June, and one in December.”

“How varied.”

“Breaks the year up nicely.”

They settled into a comfortable silence, snuggled against each other watching TV. Delia thumbed her nose at a Braves games and Grant vetoed What Not To Wear, and there was a lot of channel surfing until they both agreed on the end of a Bruce Willis movie.

Delia thought she was in heaven, cuddled up next to Grant and inhaling his cologne by the lungful; she was barely paying attention to the car chases and gun fire on the TV screen.

“So you like guy movies?” Grant asked when it was over.

“I like Bruce,” she said with a smile.

“Another old guy,” he said shaking his head. “Do you like anyone your age?”

“Not really,” she said shaking her head. “I’ve always gone for older guys.”

“And why is that?”

“You can’t help who you like,” she said with a shrug. “I just find them more appealing.” She climbed up on Grant’s lap and rested her hands on his shoulders. “They’re more experienced in things, more mature, they’re just better.”

“Yeah? Better at what?” he asked.

“Teaching,” she said with a wry smile.

“And what do you need to be taught?” he asked.

“You be surprised at how innocent I really am, Mr. Turner.”

“Would I?”

Delia nodded. “Think you’re up for it?”

“I could certainly get that way.”

With another wry smile Delia slipped off Grant and stood up. “Maybe you should take me somewhere more appropriate,” she said innocently.

“Maybe I should take a nitroglycerine pill.”

“Oh you’re not that old,” she giggled. “Now what were we doing?”

“I was taking you somewhere more appropriate.”

“Right, okay.” She reached out her hand and Grant took it.

‘Somewhere more appropriate’ turned out to be Grant’s bedroom, which was exactly where Delia meant for him to take her.

“It might help to know what it is I’m supposed to be teaching you,” Grant said locking the door.

Delia stood up on her tiptoes and whispered in his ear.

“You never done it that way?” he asked incredulously.

“Well, Patrick and I almost did but his parents came home and we were in the living room.”

“Thanks for that anecdote,” Grant said dryly.

“Well, you’re in charge now,” she said.

“Hmm,” he said, pulling Delia to him, “that means you have to do what I say?”

She nodded.

“I’m in control?”

“Always Mr. Turner.”

He turned her back to him and whispered in her ear, “Good to know.”

Delia’s knees almost buckled. He had a way of making his voice sound like pure sex.

He slid his hands up her sides and took the edge of her white baby-tee with it, bringing it up over her head and letting it drop to the floor. Immediately his hands slid back down her sides to stop at the drawstring of her cotton shorts. He untied the flimsy knot and let the shorts fall from her hips to her feet where Delia promptly kicked out of them.

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear.

Delia nodded.

Grant’s hands slid up Delia’s stomach and around to her back where they met the hook of her bra and swiftly undid it. He then tugged it from her shoulders and let it join her shirt somewhere on the floor.
Delia’s eyes closed and she sighed out when she felt two strong hands cup both her breasts. She leaned into him, wanting to feel skin-against-skin instead of his shirt next to her back.

“Get on the bed,” he said in her ear. “Face the other way.”

Delia didn’t want to leave his hands, but did as he said. She climbed up on the bed and sat on her knees away from him. She couldn’t believe how worked up she already was. Practically dying for him, she felt like she would come from his slightest touch.

He climbed on the bed behind her; she turned around and was pleasantly surprised to find him wearing a pair of Calvin Klein boxers and nothing else.

“Ah ah,” he said, “look straight ahead.”

“But I want to see you,” she whined.

“But I’m in control,” he said.

Frowning, Delia turned back away from him.

The frown disappeared when she felt his mouth on her. He kissed over her right shoulder, tucking her hair over her left, then down her back, all the way, leaning her over until she was on both her hands and knees. His tongue came out and slid over her spine, then around to her stomach. He kissed up over her hip and up her back to her neck, then up her chin and finally to her lips.

While his tongue was in her mouth his hands slid Delia’s underwear down her legs, then eased them apart.
Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his hands glide up the insides of her thighs and she moaned out when one long finger slid inside her sex.

“You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” he said in surprise.

She nodded eagerly.

Behind her, he slipped his shorts off then took his place back against her.

She felt him up against her; his hard chest next to her back, the hardness between his legs pressing up against her perky ass. She bit her lip as waves of desire flooded her stomach. And another area.

“Please Mr. Turner,” she begged, pushing her back up against him.

Grant fastened his hands to Delia’s hips, raised himself up, and slid inside her.

Delia gasped out as new sensations darted through her body. The feeling of Grant wrapped around her back was enough to make her want to die and when he started thrusting inside her she thought she’d lose consciousness.

She couldn’t thrust back against him, she couldn’t even lean into him, all she could do was crouch there and let him fuck her into oblivion.

His thrusting increased and he let out something like a growl.

No wonder, Delia thought. It was so animalistic, so hedonistic, so primal. Like they were at the mercy of a very un-merciful god of sex. Her knees began to ache and she could barely hold her neck up straight. Her hands dug into the mattress and she cried out as Grant’s back slammed up against her again and again.

Another thrust and she erupted like a volcano, completely collapsing into the bed like a sack of potatoes. Grant could take his time doing whatever he wanted to her, but as for Delia, she was gone.

Grant, however, didn’t take much longer. In less than a minute he had flattened Delia to the bed, his breathing even heavier than hers.

“Grant,” she finally squeaked.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t breathe.”

“Fuck, me either,” he panted.

“No—I’m squished.”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he said and immediately rolled off her.

Delia turned over to her back and sucked in a breath. “Wow.”

“Patrick doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Grant said.

Delia burst into such a fit of giggles that her sides started to hurt. She was in the best mood! She scooted over to Grant and kissed his chest.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he said back.

“Lydia and Will need to go out more often.”

“Separately would be even better.”

“She’s going to marry him, you know?”

Grant nodded. “I know.”

“He’s going to be your son-in-law.” She grinned and climbed on top of him. “And he’s going to know a really big secret.”

“You need to get some dirt on him,” he said.

“That’s the problem, he’s pretty clean.”

“What about that month they broke up last year?”

“According to Patrick, he moped the whole time.”

“Damn,” he said shaking his head.

“He’s not going to say anything. Ever.”

“Oh no, it’ll just be ‘Hey Grant, buy me a new car,’ or ‘Gee Grant, I’d sure like to go to Mexico for the entire month.’”

“Nah. Besides he calls you Mr. Turner anyway.”

“Yeah, why is that?” Grant asked. “He’s been around for five years, you think he’d use my first name by
now.”

“No, they have to sleep with you first.”

“So, Mr. Turner it is.”

“I like to call you Mr. Turner sometimes too.”

“I know,” he said and pulled her in for a kiss.

It was short however, as a buzzing from the bedside table made them pull apart.

“My cell,” he said. “It’s a text message.”

“Well, it might be important,” Delia said. She slipped off of Grant and grabbed the phone from the table,
then handed it over.

“It’s from Quinn, my friend-slash-co-worker.”

“Big deal going down?”

“He’s just confirming Saturday.”

“What’s Saturday?”

“He’s coming over to work on some stuff.”

“So you’re working through the weekend again?”

“Just trying to get ahead.”

“You don’t need to work to get head,” she said grinning. “Hey, that’s a camera phone.”

“It is,” Grant said.

“Have any pictures on it?”

“None.”

“Let’s take some,” she said, her eyes lighting up.

“Bad idea.”

“Oh why?” she asked, snatching the phone from him.

“Hmm, let’s think about that one for a minute.”

“Who all uses your phone?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Just me.”

“Can you delete the pictures?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then I see no problem. Smile.”

She took the picture, but Grant wasn’t smiling.

“Give me the phone, Delia,” he said sternly.

“Oh, you want to take a picture of me?” she asked feigning innocence. “How would you like me to pose? Like this?” She drew her long hair up in her fingers and pouted her lips. “Or this?” She threw her head back and closed her eyes in a look of bliss.

“Do I look amused?” he asked, his face in a scowl.

“You look hot,” she said and bent over and kissed his bottom lip, taking a picture of it.

Grant captured her lips with his and soon their tongues were intertwined, Delia snapping pictures of who-knows-what all the while.


Someone was calling Delia’s name.

It was a male voice. . . . Where was she?

“Delia?”

She opened her eyes.

Bright sunlight streamed through the windows and she shielded her eyes with her hand.

“Delia?”

“What?” she mumbled slowly opening her eyes again.

“Morning sunshine,” Grant said, looking over her.

“What time is it?”

“After eight, which means. . . .”

“I know, I have to go,” she said sitting up.

“Before anyone wakes.”

Something like a bell sounded from outside the bedroom door.

“What was that?” Delia asked, panic starting to edge in her voice.

“Shit, it’s the door bell!” he said jumping up.

It rang again, then a door in the hallway opened and someone ran down the stairs.

Delia jumped up from the bed and began looking for her clothes.

“No time,” Grant said, throwing her a shirt of his. “You can get them later.”

Delia and Grant both ran to the door, opening it slowly to check that the coast was clear.

The front door opened downstairs and Lydia’s unmistakable voice said in surprise, “Mom?”

~~~~~~~
That's all for now, part 6 will be up soon!