Yeah, his date.

Since he's making such a big deal out of my nudity this time around, I put aside my exhaustion and examine the room.

The first thing that sticks out is Dad's attire. Due to all the projects, his at-home clothing usually consists of blue jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers; comfortable, durable, easy to wash, and disposable. Today, however, he's wearing a collared shirt, dress slacks, and a pair of oxfords. Second was the bottle he carried up from the cellar. I assumed this meant a bottle of whiskey or brandy kept on the first floor had been emptied, but I see now that isn't such a bottle. That's a wine bottle. Not an overly expensive bottle, but one certainly great for good impressions as well as semi-formal and formal occasions. Third, the adjoined dining room is set elegantly: table cloth, fine china, and candles. Fourth and final, a pair of footsteps are approaching from the direction I was heading.

Getting a perfect view of my perfect behind in its perfectly naked glory is a strange redhead. I recognize the dress instantly: black, strapless, silk, diagonally pleated, a flared hemline that stops short of the knee, a V-cut in the middle of the bustline that flaunts cleavage when worn by busty women, and perfectly complementing the leather buckle sandals. I've sold plenty of these outfits to women looking to seduce a man straight into the bedroom, though I don't recognize this woman. And believe me I would. At her youngest, this woman is 35. Women that age who bought this dress were always less chesty than me. I know strippers who aren't this chesty, even after they went two rounds with a surgeon. Of course, those strippers are also fit, with toned bodies like mine. This woman's paunch is straining against her dress, and that caboose would vibrate for days after sex. But she's far from unattractive. It is still very much an hourglass figure. Just a little extra jiggly in places magazines airbrush.

Definitely one of Dad's dates. His porn collection is full of women built the same way, and he's got a thing for redheads with green eyes. I'm so glad he's finally serious with someone! Well, if she makes him happy, I'm happy to know her, and happy to restrict my desires to "accidentally" walking in on her naked. Best to get this off on the right foot.

"Oh, hey!" I said.

As I greet her, I walk over and give her a big hug. Due to the height difference, she slides right under my tits.

"Sorry for the surprise. Didn't know Dad had company. I'm his daughter Jessica. He's probably told you plenty if he brought you home. I'm just gonna head up to my room and sleep. Don't let me interrupt anything. Just pretend I'm not here. I did that plenty for Dad when I brought my girlfriends home. Let's catch up in the morning!"

As I walk away towards my bedroom, I hear her mumble, "'Morning'?"

I hear my Dad whisper, "Trisha, remember I told you Jessie wasn't..."

The rest of it fades out as I go up the stairs. I'm sick of concentrating. I'm here for rest, remember? But I don't hear shouting, nor do I hear the door chime, so it probably resolved itself pretty quickly and in a good way.

My bedroom has kinda been in a state of stasis since I was 16 and started staying out for days at a time. The walls are still decorated with posters from when I was a chess club nerd, with the occasional reference to a classic rock band or Mozart. Underneath the television are old game consoles that won't be worth a dime for another few years. On my desk is a laptop that probably runs as well as a dammed river and needs over 9000 updates. And then there's my bookcase with several books ranging from contemporary personal interest to classic staples, with the most recent additions being my college textbooks that the school wouldn't buy back.

All that really matters about it is two things: Dad keeps it clean; and the bed is comfortable. It's a queen size he bought just after I came home from college, so it's still practically new. I've probably been in it three times, accumulating about 15 hours of total use not counting when Dad leaves vacuum attachments and laundry on it. In fact, I don't think I've done much with it besides sleep and masturbate. I should figure out when Dad's going out so I can bring someone back here to christen it.

But that's for later. Right now, it's a clean bed in a clean room, and I'm tired. So much so I don't even bother to remove my boots before I crawl in. So tired I don't bother to frig myself before bed like I usually do when I'm alone. Hell, Dad's bedroom is on the other side of a wall, and I'm not the least bit curious to find out if there's going to be a morning with Trisha. I'll figure that out whenever I wake up.