"Let´s go hopping, daddy!"

My Timid New Girlfriend Ch. 2

Warning

+++ The “My timid new girlfriend” series is meant to be way over the top and extremely overexaggerated, and the main character (the boyfriend/father) is meant to be absolutely dumb and blind to what is going on around him. The series is meant to be funny, light reading.

Of course, parts are erotic but for sure not for everyone.

Please be aware that in the different chapters there might be ingredients such as "creampie," "cheating," "femdom," "humiliation," "ridiculing," "contempt," "bareback," "unprotected sex," "BBC," "being auctioned," "gangbang," "reluctancy," and so on.

At the end, I have decided to publish the stories as "fetish."

Please join me in this silly saga, and I hope you enjoy the little jokes! +++

…

I was so relieved. My girlfriend wasn’t cheating on me. It was just a little misfortune she had. Could happen to anyone. And it only happened on one single day. It was not as if she were doing this every day. Not to my knowledge. No, I wanted to treat my future wife as fairly as I could.

And my daughter, well, she was growing up. I was just happy that my new girlfriend and she got along so well; it sounded as if they were best friends, “sharing experiences,” as my daughter explained to me. She mentioned something like choosing together their next Johnson catch. I believe it was a sale of a fashion brand; I heard them chat about this in the living room, and I also think it was a well-known worldwide brand for women, because my daughter Lika kept saying to my girlfriend things like "Big Johnson” or "Large Johnson.” I was very happy they found a common interest, even if it was most of the time about shopping.

But that’s not completely accurate. I didn’t want to eavesdrop too much, but I also heard some parts of their chatting showing a wide interest in, among other things, I believe, floors of “wood.” They talked about flying, mentioning “chopper” a couple of times. I heard them talking about nature and mentioning “peckers,” which I was sure they meant woodpeckers, but simply abbreviated the word. They also chatted about London; I guess because I heard words such as “tube” and "Rod," which was of course Rod Stewart.

I expected to have to give my daughter a higher weekly allowance for the shopping, but to my surprise, she didn’t need any extra shopping money. On the contrary, as I was cleaning the house just as any good husband would, while both “my girls” were gone having fun, I found on her nightstand a large stash of cash, all 20, 50, and 100 USD bills. Did my girlfriend give her the money? Was my 18-year-old daughter already making money? It almost looked as if she were bringing money home instead of spending it. And why didn’t she take any money with her, now that they were at the mall? She must have forgotten. Ah, these young people! Always forgetting things! I was sure my girlfriend must have told her how to make an easy buck with whatever my young daughter liked doing best. Maybe they were even teaming up. Or did they go to the gym?

What irritated me a little bit was the amount of dirty laundry lying around in both bedrooms, especially from them. I found many slips, all being sticky wet in the crotch. As if the slips could not handle the amount of leaking they had to absorb, of both my daughter and girlfriend. I sincerely hope they had all the hygienic products they needed, I thought. Perhaps I should carefully place this at dinner but not hurt anybody's feelings. Female hygiene was none of my business; I just wanted to be a good, caring father and husband. The only thing that kept nagging me in the back of my mind is that the sticky stains were not yellow, as I would expect from urine, but white. Funny.

I just finished cleaning the entire house by 5 PM, as the girls came back, looking exhausted. No wonder; they had been gone the entire day. Well, "exhausted" was not the right word; it looked more like "worn out." For me it was like a mix between having had a lot of exercise, those muscles getting drilled, and feeling very good afterwards. Because they had some kind of happy glow on their faces, as if they were very content from their workouts. It was probably legs and buttocks day since they both had trouble sitting on the couch without placing a cushion under them. They both giggled about it, discussing it with me.

“We are both so sore, Daddy.” My daughter Lika said, giggling again. “April just didn’t let me breathe and made me take so much I almost passed out. Thank God, she assisted me with every drill I was going through. Sometimes she had to hold me to keep me in place from the **** I was getting.”

I listened with interest to what my young daughter was saying, but I really had no clue what kind of machines modern gyms had these days.

She then added, “But I took **** on April by making her stretch her muscles more than ever. And she took it all, Daddy! But now she can’t walk anymore,” as Lika kissed April softly on her lips.

If I didn’t know any better, I would say they bonded a lot since my young daughter visited with April in my office.

“Shall we go take a shower and rinse all those juices off us?” April asked my daughter.

“Yes, good idea.” Lika answered, grabbing April's boob. “I will rinse those myself.” She added.

Was this a hipster thing, I wondered? Grabbing your BFF's boobs? Whatever.

“Dinner is ready in 30 minutes, girls; don’t play too much with the water.” I said as the true man of the house.

“Oh,” both said almost in sync, “we will play with other things, Daddy.” And they walked away towards the bathroom, holding hands, giggling about the fun that was about to come.

I didn’t follow what they meant, but I had more important things on my mind, such as the turkey almost being ready. And what about the oven fries? Did they really need 40 minutes? As I was busy in the kitchen, I ran out of tea towels, so I had to get some fresh ones from the washing room. Walking by the bathroom, I didn’t hear them giggle anymore. Finally, they got serious, I thought. But I heard my daughter moaning; perhaps the water was too hot? And then I heard them both moan. Maybe they took extra hot water for those spent muscles? “Oh! Deeper!” My girlfriend moaned.

Ah, now I understood. Just like with pro athletes, they were massaging each other's raw spots. Makes sense. And since both received the same hard and long workout, they knew exactly which muscles were well stretched and worn out. So, they had to rub those intensively to make them ready for another deep workout. I couldn’t help peeking through the unlatched bathroom door; there was a very small gap open, but I could barely see anything because of the steam. Right now, only Lika was moaning. April was on her knees checking something on Lika's stomach, having her lips very close to her lower pelvis. Such a great, caring girlfriend I have. Poor Lika. Some sessions are, perhaps, at her young age, too much for her, even if she regenerates fast.

Anyway, I went on with my husband's important business. I served the food on the dining table, taking great care in not letting it get cold as I called the girls. “Dinner is ready,” I yelled, but no reply came. I called them again, but nothing. I went looking for them, and I found them in the master bedroom, my daughter sleeping on top of April and, just as a toddler, holding one of her breasts. Lika was still holding April's very erect nipple as April looked at me, whispering for me to be quiet. My poor little baby girl was all exhausted from all the thorough sessions she had taken. There was a mild, musky scent lingering in the bedroom, and they were both sweaty. That is what happens if you shower too hot. They both still had to learn what a man like me already knew.

April whispered to me that I should sleep in the small guest room and that they would sleep in the marital bed from now on. Of course, I thought. Makes sense. I cannot sleep with my daughter in the same bed, and her room was private. I went back to the dining room and ate a bit, but I felt tired, so I went to sleep in my designated room.

…

The next day.

A voice from somewhere was saying, “Daddy, wake up.”

I woke up, all groggy from the poor night's sleep; the guest room's mattress was awful.

"We want to take you 'hopping,' Dad. Buy you some clothes," my daughter said.

“OK, give me half an hour to get ready.” I mumbled, very tired from the lack of good sleep.

I took a very long, hot shower, but it didn’t help much. I asked April if she could drive so I would have a break. Once we arrived at the mall, Lika got all excited. April smiled at her and gave me a knowing look. Yeah, young girls simply love shopping! We passed several fashion stores for men, which I normally would have checked out, but no, they took me to one much more in the back of the mall, which I didn’t even know.

“They have great clothes for you, Daddy.” Lika said. “Let’s go see what we can find.”

So, in we went, and I walked around on my own, the girls somewhere else, all the way in the back of the store. As I came back to our starting point, I saw them both from afar talking to a tall salesman close to the door of the shop's storage room, discussing something about his pants. It must be a fabric-related topic, I thought, since they were both continuously caressing his pants. Maybe they liked the fabric's softness; I could only imagine. They were chatting and nodding to each other, and both sank on their knees, evaluating the fabric thoroughly by placing their small hands on his crotch area, discussing vividly the materials used for the zipper and the fabric to which it was sewn.

I found it so sweet how much effort they both put in to find me the very best pants. Even more, my daughter Lika wanted to test the zipper quality and pulled it down to see if it was of good quality. Once the pants were completely unzipped, she then slid her young hand inside to investigate for any irregularities. She did have to rub her hand up and down several times to carefully check herself and form an opinion. She then said something to my girlfriend, giggling, and as a response, April slid her hand inside his pants too. She too had to rub her hand up and down several times, nodding at my daughter, confirming the quality of the fabric.

The salesman couldn’t help himself, but his bulge was growing rapidly. Poor guy. These girls were way too investigative in finding the right pants for me. As I was about to walk up to them to say something about this, my young daughter Lika looked up at the sales guy, and I heard her say something to him. Something like “threesome…” Probably she wanted three pairs of matching pants for me, I guessed. My girlfriend looked up at him too as she kept rubbing him, nodding. He clearly said yes and something about "ock," but I could only presume hearing what he said, perhaps "big stock” and "in the back” (or was it “crack”?). and something about “...little huts or sluts,” which I did not quite follow? Did he sell outdoor products too?

As the three of them walked past me, towards the storage room, he held his big paws on their swaying butts, checking what kind of fabric their skirts had. What a pro! I thought. He was always right on target, showing his true professionalism, with no getting distracted by mundane things such as his lunchtime. He even caressed their breasts, verifying what kind of soft fabric their tops were made of. He made an expert comment, probably about the quality of the fiber, because he pinched those erect nipples, telling them it was not the right material for the colder part of the year. They both nodded and, in sync, lifted their boobs inside their tops with both hands and pressed them up and together, showing him the mistake they made, admitting it. They bought tops that were not warm enough. As he was rubbing and pinching their cold erect nipples, explaining how to choose the proper fiber, they gave little “Oh!” shrieks, admitting their poor choices.

Just before the door of the storage room, he turned around, facing them, and told them to take off those thin tops. I guess he was going to give them warmer tops because he was measuring with his large hands what size their breasts were, grabbing, cupping, and lifting them. We all know how picky women can be regarding the choice of their clothes, and he showed true expertise by taking his time fondling extensively those perky mamillas. I think both my girlfriend and daughter were thrilled to have had the luck of finding such an experienced salesman. They kept admiring his knowledge as I heard them often say “Oh!” and “Ah!” Any guy with fashion knowledge will quickly win the hearts of young women, I thought. Perhaps we should invite him for our BBQ this weekend? The girls for sure could learn and be trained properly by him.

As both of my girls were now topless with their perky breasts standing in front of him (they both wore no bras), he shook his head, surprised they didn’t wear any. For a second I thought he was positively surprised, but then he shook his head, telling them something that sounded like “No need.” But I believe he said, “No tweed.” April, my girlfriend, asked him something about her titties, and he grabbed both her breasts, kneading them thoroughly, making sure she wasn’t getting a cold.

Lika then pushed her titties together with her arms and offered them too. But since he had his hands full with those juicy young breasts of my lovely girlfriend, he had **** but to warm Lika up with his mouth. He started with her nipples, of course, both very protruding, indicating the level of care they needed, being out in the cold. His lips sucked on them alternately, the poor guy trying to give his best customer service, on one side playing with those magnificent breasts of my girlfriend and sucking on my daughter's jubblies, but he was almost overwhelmed by taking care of two demanding customers at the same time.

Lika, my daughter, then asked him something about her skirt because he nodded and I believe said, “It is a rip-off.” Or “Take it off.” I was not sure. Since Lika loves quality clothing and really hates cheap production clothes, she quickly dropped her skirt on the floor. Spreading her legs, she was now standing in front of him almost completely naked, wearing only sexy red stockings and matching high heels. She didn’t wear a slip. She probably forgot it together with her bra. Where was her brain this morning? My little baby grew up, I thought, looking at her. One day she will bring a boyfriend home to ask me if she can date him for my permission. Such a good girl!

April didn’t want the salesman to judge only Lika’s outfit again, so she quickly dropped her leather skirt too, and she was wearing the same kind of outfit, but in black. No slip either. Spreading her legs and placing her hand on her hips, just like my daughter, she stood provocatively in front of him and asked him something about her underwear, I guessed. The salesman smiled, being challenged on his knowledge of fabrics, and touched with his middle fingers both my girlfriend and my daughter, right in the center of their hips, where the pubic arch is. As he said something to them, touching them right there, they both recoiled a little, as if he stirred them with his skillful words. From my point of view, I didn’t see any underwear, but I guess he knew what he was doing. Perhaps he was telling them to always wear underwear and not get a cold from below? They both somehow confessed their mistake, and they kept moving their pelvises back and forth on his fingers, giving him a chance to evaluate their need for a tactile fiber enhancer, because his pants sure needed it, seeing his massive bulge tearing at the fabric of his pants.

Right then, his examination was sufficient, as he licked both his middle fingers, and he knew what they needed from him in the storage room. He opened the door and asked them to step inside first, giving each one a pat on her butt, making them shriek and giggle. I thought it was not very professional, but they were having a good time, and it was just a sales trick. I decided to let it pass and went to the coffee shop outside, just in front of the store, getting some well-earned coffee.

I found a newspaper and started reading it. After a while, I ordered a sandwich and another coffee. The girls were sure taking their time, but it was not the first time for me waiting for them; I was used to hanging out at coffee shops, and I knew they could spend hours inside shops. Or in storage rooms, I thought.

An hour passed by, and then April, my girlfriend, came outside. She almost fell beside me on the soft couch pillows, looking a bit exhausted, and if I didn’t know any better, she had just visited a sauna. Her hair was all messy, her skin had some kind of sweaty afterglow, and she smelled very musky. But I didn’t care, because suddenly, for the first time, she gave me, even if her lipstick was smeared around her lips, which made her look like a cheap whore, a very long French kiss. I was in heaven! Once again, she shared a lot of spit with me, but I didn’t want to spoil her “hopping” (that’s what the girls these days call “shopping”) experience, so I didn’t ask about this spit-gene defect she had. Her tongue moved around inside my mouth as she kept pushing her spit into my mouth and distributing it everywhere. Since there was so much, I had to swallow most of it right away. The funny thing was, it was a bit sticky, very warm, and salty. I wanted to touch her boob, but she slapped my hand away. She stopped kissing me and quickly said, “Not in public; I am not that kind of girl.” So, I stopped. I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable.

Just then, my lovely young daughter joined us, and the way she looked, she might have been in the same sauna. She sat on the other side of me on the couch, and she let out a very moany sigh. She looked fulfilled, a bit tired, and truly satisfied.

“Can I have some ice cream, Daddy?” Was the first thing she said. “Sure.” I replied.

“You want some, April?” She asked my girlfriend. “No thanks, honey, I had enough sweets for one day.” She giggled.

Before I knew it, Lika was back, licking with her tongue up and down that white vanilla ice cream. April giggled and said, “You look like a pro, babe.” I didn’t know there were ice cream eating contests, but I guess there were, because Lika replied, “Like this?” Engulfing the scoop of ice cream entirely with her mouth. “Good girl! Good girl!” My girlfriend chanted.

We enjoyed our drinks and had a pleasant time, chatting about all sorts of things. Soon all the ice cream was gone, Lika having devoured it. Lika stood up and bent over to leave the plastic ice cream cup on the low couch table.

“Girl, you are leaking.” April said to her as she saw her young legs. “Come sit next to me, honey.” Chuckling.

Lika quickly sat beside her and opened her legs as wide as possible, within the possibilities of wearing a short skirt. I found it funny, as if she knew where the ice cream had leaked to. April expertly scooped up a long string of vanilla from her leg and put her finger with it in her mouth, swallowing the sweet mishap.

“I have more for you, higher up,” my daughter said, grinning. I didn’t see any drops of ice cream, but April knew exactly where to look. It was under my daughter's skirt, I guess, and April quickly slid her slender arm under Lika's skirt. To assist her in reaching it and give her full access, Lika pulled her skirt up as far as she could. If I didn’t know otherwise, she looked like a cheap slut opening her cunt as wide as possible, in plain sight, for everybody to see. But not my daughter.

April was playfully looking for it, asking my daughter Lika, “Is it here? Or is it here?” Smiling knowingly.

Lika could only moan as an answer, so I guess April had to search further, which she did. She kept moving her arm under Lika’s skirt back and forth, not having any luck. It looked like she tried to rub it off, the way April's hand was moving so much under my daughter's skirt.

“Just like this?” April asked as she kept moving her hand in one spot, rubbing.

“Oohhh!” Lika suddenly cried, shaking, clamping her legs on April's arm.

April grinned and said proudly, “Found it!”

As soon as my daughter calmed down, April retrieved her arm, two of her fingers all shiny and wet.

“Mmmmhh,” she moaned, sticking them in her mouth, sucking on them. “Vanilla!”

My daughter sighed and leaned back against the backrest of the couch, happy that the ice cream was gone.

As we arrived back home, the girls went inside. After I parked the car, I went in and sat down in the living room. That was a nice family trip, I thought.

“Honey,” my girlfriend said, “we will have a nap in the marital bed now. Are you OK with that?”

"Yeah, sure, I will have my nap in the guest room again.”

Just then, both my girls walked by towards the main bedroom, completely naked. That didn’t bother me; they were best friends after all. I was just thrown off by the knowing look my daughter gave me. As if she was telling me with her eyes what was about to happen...

If I didn’t know any better, I would say that I just saw two cheap sluts about to get ready for a pussy-eating afternoon... But not my daughter. Or my girlfriend.

To be continued.