Uncle Bob Ch. 03

In a flash I turned to Stacey, still lying in her dreamy, cum-covered condition. My dick gave an involuntary twitch at the sheer raunchiness of the sight.

"Stacey, sweetie. Don't panic, but your mom's here."

"Mom! Oh my God!" she shrieked, jumping up.

"Stacey. Listen carefully. What you have to do is get everything that shows what we've been doing and throw it all in the laundry chest. Then go to your room, throw all of your new purchases in the closet and get in the shower. Come down to the pool in a bikini and carrying a towel and a magazine. Your mom needs to think we've been in the pool all morning. OK?"

Stacey looked terrified, but she nodded.

"Now do it quick. I have to get downstairs sorted and get your mom out to the pool."

I grabbed a pair of swim shorts and pulled them on, threw a towel around my neck and picked up the breakfast tray. I went downstairs at a run, put the tray down briefly and shoved the video camera and the DVD box behind the TV. Then out to the pool deck, breakfast tray on a table, towel on a chair. Back into the kitchen, wine bottle in the trash, glasses in the dishwasher (wiping the lipstick with my thumb first).

The doorbell rang as I sprinted to the deck and jumped into the pool. I splashed and rubbed to get rid of the cum on my skin; a bit yukky washing it off in the pool, but hey, it's all organic. Then I jumped back out of the pool, quickly toweled off the worst of the water and ran to the front door as the bell rang for the third time.

"Hi, Dolores! What a pleasant surprise! Have you been waiting long? I was in the pool."

"Hi, Robert. You're dripping on the floor."

"Oh -- oh yeah. Look, come through to the pool deck with me and then I'll fix you a drink."

I led the way back to the deck, hoping that Dolores would follow me without getting side-tracked. "Oh, sorry -- I still haven't cleared the breakfast things." I picked up the tray and motioned for Dolores to sit down at the table. "Would you like a drink? Coffee, iced tea, a soda, beer, wine, chilled champagne, a margarita?" I smiled.

Dolores gave me a quizzical -- possibly suspicions -- look "An iced tea would be good, please." I headed back into the kitchen, put down the tray, quickly checked that I had cleared away anything incriminating, then put the rest in the dishwasher, poured three iced teas and headed back to the deck. Dolores took the glass.

"Where's Stacey?"

"Oh, she was worried about the chlorine in her hair. She went up to have a shower. She'll be down soon. How are you doing?"

"Fine, thanks."

"How are you getting on with Alvin?" This was Dolores' new guy, a wealthy broker with an up-scale house on the beach and a red Ferrari in the garage. These seemed to be excellent qualifications for a new partner for Dolores, who was a grade-A money-fixated bitch.

"Didn't Stacey tell you? Alvin and I split up two weeks ago. He was becoming too demanding."

This probably meant he expected Dolores to provide some compensation of a physical nature for the money flowing in her direction. Now, Dolores was very attractive for a woman of around forty. Her tits had clearly had work, and judging by her hips and ass in her designer jeans, some lipo had also been involved. I detected a hint of Botox in her smile, but I certainly wouldn't kick her out of bed. (In fact, an image of a mother-daughter session suddenly came unbidden into my head, and I nearly choked on my iced tea.)

But I always felt that Dolores had her standards as far as sex was concerned, and that probably meant she only did what she wanted, regardless of how much money was lavished on her. I'd never met Alvin, but when Stacey had shown me a picture of her with her mom and the guy, she had done so with an 'euch' sort of expression on her face. Alvin was around fifty, balding and with a definite beer-belly. I couldn't see Dolores happily wrapping her well-toned thighs around that guy for less than ten thousand dollars a fuck.

I was just about to make some more idle chat when Stacey appeared. Her bikini, white and very 'virginal'-looking, was quite conservative, but I still started to get wood just looking at her.

"Hi, Mommy! Great to see you!" She hugged and kissed her mom, picked up the third glass of iced tea and flopped down at the table.

"Why have you come all the way out here to see me and Uncle Bob? I'll be home again this evening?"

"Stacey, Robert -- I came because I heard some rather disturbing reports from a friend of mine who was at the mall yesterday, and I wanted to talk to you face to face."

Dolores glanced at each of us, as if expecting some sort of guilt in our faces. Fucking lawyers! Then she carried on. "My friend recognized Stacey, who was -- and I quote -- 'dressed like a cheap hooker', and apparently with some 'skuzzy guy', as my friend said. What was worse, she says she saw them both go into a sex store. So I thought I'd better come straight down here and talk to you directly."

Again, the look. Was I blushing? Was Stacey? Shit, this sounded like serious trouble. "Stacey -- what are you doing, going into sex stores, dressed like a slut? And Robert, what do you think you are doing allowing my daughter to go out dressed like that, on her own, around a mall, so she can meet assholes and go into sex stores?" She stopped, fixed me with those pitiless, lawyer's eyes, then picked up her iced tea and waited for me to respond.

What should I say? Should I be grateful that she didn't recognize me as the 'skuzzy asshole' who was accompanying her daughter around the mall and into the sex store? If I told her I was there, I'd only be incriminating myself. But clearly we'd been seen, so this was gonna be a toughie. I felt like saying "I don't know what the fuck she does when she goes out. You expect her to stick around here all day? She comes over here to get outta your hair; she's eighteen and I shouldn't need to babysit her all weekend."

"Look, Dolores," I began. "You've gotta remember. Stacey's eighteen. She can.."

Then Stacey suddenly interrupted.

"Mom, it all happened when Uncle Bob went to the john. Y'see, he'd taken me to the mall and he was looking after me real good, buying me sodas and being sooo patient when I was in the clothes stores and stuff. And really, I was only dressed in the same clothes I wear to go to school in -- not slutty or anything! But then Uncle Bob went to the john when I was looking in a shop window, and this skuzzy guy came and stood near me, so I moved away but he followed me. So I went outside -- I wanted to, like, get back to the car, but then I thought 'Uncle Bob has the keys!' And the guy was right behind me, so I went into the nearest shop I could find. Yeah, it was embarrassing. It was a sex store. And it was full of all this really gross stuff. And then the guy followed me inside, so I got my phone out and I called to Uncle Bob, and he showed up and rescued me. You're not mad at me, are you?" She gave her mom a really 'embarrassed and upset' look that could have won another Oscar.

I was amazed. My respect for Stacey's skills was growing by the minute. She'd shown that she was a first-class little cocksucker, a grade-A ass-slut and cum dumpster, and now an accomplished little actress. I thought I was good at embellishing the truth; but hey, I'd met my match here.

Would Dolores swallow the story? If it had been me in the witness box, I'm sure I would have suffered a much harsher interrogation. Knowing my previous relationship with Dolores, it may have involved waterboarding. But this was her dear little Stacey providing the evidence. I just smiled and nodded, as if confirming Stacey's story, and for once kept my big, stupid mouth shut.

"No, sweetie, I'm not mad at you. I'm just happy you're safe, that's all." Dolores showed a surprising -- and previously unexpected -- level of motherly concern, getting up and hugging her daughter. Over Dolores' shoulder, Stacey winked at me mischievously.

Then Dolores turned to me. "And Robert, what did you think you were doing, leaving her alone like that?"

"Dolores -- I went to the john! Would you rather I'd pissed up against a shop window?"

"Don't be crude, Robert. I've had my doubts about you for some time, and I think it's unhealthy, you spending so much time with my daughter." Recent developments showed she had a point, but this was pretty hypocritical coming from her. Before I could get a word out, she turned to Stacey.

"Stacey, get your things. I think we should go home now. In fact, I think I'll come and help you."

Fuck! And things had been going so well.

Stacey cried "Mom! That's so unfair!"

I turned to Stacey. "Sweetie, why don't you go upstairs and tidy your room and pack up a few things? I'd like to speak to your mom in private for a moment."

Stacey gave me a wounded look, but I shot her back a glance that said 'I'll handle this,' and she sulkily flounced off upstairs, aiming a "You're so mean!" at her mom as she left.

"OK, so, what do you have to say, Robert?" Dolores said smugly after Stacey had gone. "Are you going to offer me an apology?"

"No, Dolores. I rather hoped you'd have one for me."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Well, let's see. For most of the last twelve years, even some before that, I've provided you with a very dedicated and largely free babysitting service for your daughter. In that time, it seems to me that I've seen a lot more of your girl growing up than either you or my idiot brother did, if you take off the times she was asleep or at school or in her room doing homework."

"Oh yes? So, are you about to present me with a bill?" Dolores' tone was sarcastic, her eyebrows raised in derision.

"On the contrary. I'd even be prepared to pay you for the privilege of having that young lady as my very dear friend. Dolores, it probably didn't occur to you, but I stopped babysitting her several years ago. She comes here because we're best friends, and she likes to hang out with me. I listen to her, I take her seriously, and I don't preach. She's not a kid anymore, Dolores, in case you hadn't noticed, she's a young woman. She drives her own car. In three months' time she'll be going to college for God's sake. She can make her own choices in life."

"Not while I pay her bills. She does what I say!" Dolores was beginning to look angry.

"Yeah, I believe you could try to make her. But you're already losing her, and if you take that attitude with her, you'll turn her away for sure. She still loves you -- for now. But if you try to control her, she'll run away from you, or at best she'll only stay under duress, and you'll keep her but lose her love. And that's a very precious thing, Dolores. It's not something I'd be willing to pass up for anything. She's a very special young lady."

Dolores looked shocked. "Who are you to lecture me about my daughter?"

"Well, I'm just the guy who is always there for her."

"What? You really flatter yourself, don't you?"

"Do I? Where were you during the divorce? The poor kid took shelter at my place for three months while you and fuck-face ripped into each other and ignored your daughter. Where were you all those times I took her to the park, or the beach, or the movies, when you were too busy? And for fuck's sake, where were you on her sixth birthday?"

This was a very sharp barb that I knew I could throw at Dolores. When Stacey was six, she was obsessed with Disney princesses, and her dearest wish in the world was to go to Disney World. But Mom and Dad had an invitation to go schmooze with a millionaire on his yacht in the Caribbean on the weekend of Stacey's birthday. So what came first -- their daughter, or their brown-nosing? I think you can guess.

The solution was that a twenty-one year old Uncle Bob took Stacey, in her pink princess outfit, to Disney for the first time in her life. I loved the kid, and it was a real thrill for me to see the expression on her face when she saw Princess Jasmine at the Princesses' breakfast on her sixth birthday. Stacey was so excited she was bouncing off the ground. She ran straight up to Princess Jasmine and gave her a big hug. (I felt like doing the same thing -- hey, the chick playing Jasmine was hot! I asked her what she was doing after work, but she gave me a look that said "you're the fifteenth asshole to ask me that today, and breakfast isn't even over!", so I knew I was wasting my time.)

Later that day, two big security guys had pulled me to one side and asked me, politely but firmly, what I, a young, single man, was doing there with a six-year old girl. I started trying to explain, and got as far as 'This is my niece, Stacey, and it's her birthday today', when Stacey hugged my legs and told them in a very serious voice "And this is my Uncle Bob, and he's the bestest uncle in the whole world! He took me to see Princess Jasmine!" I could have cried like a girlie. So I had a seriously big lever over my idiot brother and sister-in-law. How could they possibly miss their own daughter's first visit to Disney?

"Are you never going to stop harping on about that?" Dolores asked, but I knew I had the advantage.

"I don't harp on about it. I hardly ever mention it." That was true, so obviously Dolores still felt guilty about it, and it hurt her. "It just seems to me that you still treat Stacey as a fashion accessory or a pet you can pick up or put down when it suits you, and you don't realize how much it's hurt her over the years. I know she's a very special person; she's probably my best friend -- and I'm definitely hers. We love each other dearly, and have done for at least the last twelve years. You think you're being clever in trying to split us up by sending her to what you call 'home' on the excuse that she had an incident with some weirdo at the mall. In fact, Dolores, you are most definitely not being clever at all. All you'll do is alienate her, and stir up all the hurt you've caused her by ignoring her when she needed you most."

Dolores seems genuinely taken aback. "So do you think her father does a better job? Don't tell me you're trying to make a case for Michael here?"

"Dolores, are you listening to what I'm saying? I'm not taking your side, but I'm certainly not taking your idiot ex-husband's. He may be my brother, but I'll never forgive him for how much he's hurt Stacey over the last few years. She idolized him, and he let her down badly. Hers is the only side I'll ever defend. So give the girl a break. Treat her with respect and the sort of love she needs, and she'll pay you back a thousand times over. She has the ability to make people feel happy just by being herself. I know she's made me very happy over the years." Especially over this weekend, I thought, but didn't dare say. "I think one of the main reasons Cheryl stayed with me as long as she did was because every time Stacey came to visit -- which was a lot -- she just seemed to bring sunshine with her. She was like a bubbly little kid sister to us both. If you try to do anything to drive a wedge between uStacey and me, you'll be the one to suffer."

Dolores seemed about to say something, but I sensed I had the advantage and pressed on. "How much do you know about your daughter, Dolores?" Careful, Bob, this could be tricky. "Have you noticed that she's turned into a beautiful young woman? What do you know about her boyfriends?"

"Boyfriends? She doesn't have any boyfriends?"

"OK, so she hasn't mentioned Ricky yet?" Dolores looked startled, but I didn't give her a chance to interrupt. "Do you even know the names of her best girlfriends? Or where she likes to hang out? Her favorite flavor of ice cream, her favorite movies, what she likes to watch on TV? She talks to me about all these things or we share them together. Does she share them with you, her mom? Perhaps you need to stop telling her stuff and try to listen a bit more, Dolores."

Well, I'd said my piece. I looked carefully at Dolores' expression. Was she going to be angry, or defensive, or defiant? To my surprise, it turned out it was none of those things.

"Robert, I think I've underestimated you, and I'm genuinely sorry. All those times you did the babysitting and took Stacey away for treats, I just thought you were helping your brother out. It seems you're more of a father to her than her real father was -- or still is. And it seems you really are looking out for her."

Now, that was a bit awkward. In general, I agreed with that sentiment, but it made my current behavior with Stacey all the more reprehensible. I decided to change tack.

"Thank you, Dolores. I really appreciate that. Stacey's going through a critical stage in her life. She's transitioning into an adult, and she wants to show her independence, but at the same time she wants to be reassured that she's still okay. I know you love her and you have her best interests at heart, so let's work together on this. Leave her here for the rest of today, then when she comes home, give her a little space. Talk to her, but listen more and don't pry too much. You can't keep a pretty bird like Stacey in a cage, even a golden one. Let her fly. If she loves you -- and I think she does -- she'll come back to you of her own accord."

Dolores seemed genuinely moved by what I'd said. I was secretly delighted, but I didn't want to appear too triumphal about it, so I decided to be friendly and charming. (I don't often pull this trick off, but I gave it my best shot). I asked her "Are you sure you wouldn't like something stronger than that iced tea? And it's getting around to lunch time. Would you like something to eat? I can do a mean chicken Caesar salad. Real anchovies, home made dressing, none of that bottled shit."

She smiled. Actually, when she did that, she looked human, even sweet -- little echoes of her daughter, perhaps. "Robert, that's very kind of you. I'd love to, thank you very much. And a glass of white wine, if you have some, would be very welcome, thanks."

I had hoped to keep Stacey to myself for the rest of the day, but hey, I had to be polite and try to build some bridges with her mom, especially now that I'd delivered so many home truths.

"Great, Dolores. I'll call Stacey down and tell her she's staying 'til tonight. She can to help me fix some lunch."

Stacey had changed into a t-shirt and shorts, expecting to have to follow her mom home, but now, delighted at being able to prolong her weekend with me, she hugged her mom hard and was back to her irrepressible self. I sent her into the kitchen to get a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and bring back two glasses.

"Hey, can I have some too?" she asked, brightly.

"Certainly not. You'll have to wait until you're twenty-one," her mom said. Stacey's face fell.

"Oh, lighten up a little, Dolores. Let the girl have one small glass. I'm sure you started developing a taste for wine before you were of age."

Dolores relented, surprisingly quickly I thought, and Stacey came back with a tray; a bottle of Sauvignon, three glasses, some corn chips and guacamole. I took a sip of my wine, then left mom and daughter to chat while I went to cook the chicken and fix the salads.

I was afraid that lunch would be a tense affair, but I was pleasantly surprised that Dolores was friendly, smiling, even laughing at times. The whole atmosphere was warm, like a nice happy family. And if I hadn't known better, I would have thought that Dolores was flirting with me. Normally I would have been flattered and receptive. With Stacey there, I felt that would've been in poor taste.

As she was leaving, around two pm, Dolores did a strange thing. She kissed me. And not just a formal peck on the cheek -- this was on the lips, and accompanied by an affectionate squeeze. Our relationship had always been cool, but it seemed that my obvious concern for her daughter had changed Dolores' view of me. If only she knew -- and thank God she didn't!