Hang at the beach

"So, what do you guys want to do today?" I asked my kids over breakfast. Charissa sipped her coffee while she smiled at my enormously cute 8- and 10-year-olds.

"Can we go to the beach?!" they asked at once, almost as if they had planned it. Ordinarily I hate the beach. The sand, the sun, the shlep. But maybe with an extra pair of hands, it wouldn't be quite so bad.

"I don't know..."

"Come on, Dad, it'll be fun!" my son cajoled.

"I want to play with Charissa at the beach!" my daughter chimed in.

I looked over at the babysitter. "Well, what do you say?" I said.

She laughed. "Sure, sounds like fun!"

I sighed expressively, adding extra emotion for dramatic effect. "Fine. We can go to the beach."

"Yaaaaaay!" all three of them cried. I couldn't help but smile.

***

After breakfast, everyone went to their rooms to change. I threw on my swimsuit and grabbed a towel from my bathroom closet. Our beach supplies are kept in the basement, so I headed downstairs to collect sunscreen, sand toys, etc. When I got downstairs, I was treated to sight of Charissa standing in her room, already wearing her floral swim suit.

I don't think she noticed me as she rifled through her dresser for a shirt and shorts. I looked longer than I should before turning back into the storage room for our beach supplies. I made a mental note that it seemed as though she had changed with the door wide open. A habit she didn't know she had? Mere obliviousness? An accident? Time, I hoped, would tell...

***

The drive to the lake shore is about a half-hour from my house. The four of us chatted pleasantly as we drove, packed cooler in the backseat and beach supplies in the trunk. Parking is always a nightmare in the summer, but I managed it, choosing to pay the exorbitant lot fee just to save the hassle of finding something else. Before long, we were set up on the sand--not a tropical paradise by far, but nice enough for a relaxing afternoon.

We had gotten an early start, so the weather was still fairly pleasant. Not too hot. I played with the kids in the cool lake water for an hour or so while Charissa read on her Kindle. We all regrouped for a snack, and I plopped into a beach chair to relax. The kids ran back to the waves, leaving me alone with the sitter. She was also in a beach chair, still wearing the tank top and shorts she had changed into at the house.

"What are you reading?" I asked.

"Oh, just a silly romance novel," she said.

"I've never read one," I said.

"Well, they're really fun, perfect beach books. Maybe you should try one sometime!"

"Any suggestions?"

"Hmm..." She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I'll give it some thought and let you know."

"Sounds good," I said with a smile.

Charissa returned to her reading while I kept an eye on the kids. Before long, they were back, demanding to be played with. "Your turn," I said, and Charissa laughed.

"OK, give me a few minutes," she told the kids. They ran off again, and Charissa put down her e-book. This was the moment I'd been waiting for. The 22-year-old pulled off her shirt, revealing her gorgeous, bikini-clad breasts, and then, best of all, she rolled down her shorts not six feet from my face. I had to remind myself to stay under control; after all, I wasn't wearing more than my own swim trunks!

By now, the sun was shining pretty forcefully, and Charissa is a pale and delicate specimen. Responsibly, she began lathering sunscreen on her face and arms. I tried so hard not to stare as she lubed up her breasts and legs, though I couldn't resist watching while she rubbed up her own ass.

"Do you mind?" she asked, shocking me out of my reverie. My heart dropped to my stomach as I realized I'd been caught staring. But then, the world turned right-side up again; she was holding the sunscreen out to me. "I can't reach my back."

"Sure, no problem," I said as coolly as I could, immensely relieved that I hadn't been exposed.

"Thanks!" she said, turning her back to me.

My mouth was practically hanging open as I poured sunscreen on my hand and stared at her smooth, soft back. I rubbed the back of her shoulders, the top of her back, and down to the small of her back, even slipping underneath her bikini top to make sure I covered every inch. I hoped she couldn't feel my hand shaking as I blissfully enjoyed every innocent moment.

"There you go," I said, and she turned around. "I guess I should lather up, too."

"Good idea," she said, and my eyes were glued to her ass as she ran off to follow the kids.