More or less ... and then something even more tempting

The party continues downstairs for a little longer as the girls drink their coffee and have another round of treats. Then after about twenty minutes the three 'little angels' head upstairs leaving me in peace to pick up so of the mess. I leave the food out on the table covered with plastic wrap, but I get all the cups, saucers, plates and des.ert forks into the dishwasher.

Once that's done, I change out of the devil costume into a pair of pajamas that I almost never wear and settle down to listen to the news. From upstairs the sounds of soft giggles interspersed with occasional shrieks of delight make it difficult to even listen to the latest nonsense going on in Washington. It doesn't help that my mind keeps wandering to scenes of these three beauties wrestling together on Alison's bed wearing nothing but skimpy babydoll style nightgowns, and their halos.

After twenty minutes or so I break down and turn on my computer looking for 'sleepover porn'. I don't know what's more pathetic, the thirty-year old pornstars with their inflated boobs and tattooed legs pretending to be teenagers with their hair in pigtails or a sixty-year-old man watching the videos where the 'Dad' comes into their room and bangs them one at a time on the bed next to where the other 'girls' are sleeping.

“Mr. Patterson?” I look up guiltily to see Katie halfway down the stairs wearing a nighty easily as sexy as the ones on the video I quickly minimize. “Can I get some of that fruit punch?” Somehow, I get the impression that the drink is just an excuse, but I don't mind.

“Sure, help yourself. You can grab some cookies to bring up with you if you like.” My impression is supported by the fact that instead of heading for the punch bowl, the girl stops in front of me and I set aside my computer.

“Thank-you for everything.” She blushes a little and bows her head before lifting it again to meet my gaze steadily. “You're being so nice, Mr. Patterson. Alison told us about your wife's accident ...” normally this kind of shit just pisses me off, but the empathy in Katie's eyes feels completely genuine.

“My grandmother died in a car crash, back in Ukraine.” She shares softly, “I think that's one of the reasons my parents moved here.”

“I'm sorry to hear that, Katie.” I pause, as a teacher I learned many years ago that names matter. “Is that short for Kathryn?” I guess.

“It's Katerina, actually.”

“Well, that's lovely; may I call you Katerina?” For some reason this makes her blush even more and her eyes lift to meet mine shyly. For the first time I notice how blue they are, and I'm not surprised that she, like the other two, was being hit on by horny frat boys. If I didn't already have Alison, I might be tempted myself.

There is a brief pause as she fills a glass of punch and puts a couple of the cookies on a napkin and then she wanders back to the couch sipping on the punch.

“Alison was pretty mad at us for teasing you. I'm sorry if Gabby and I were out of line.”

“It's fine, Katerina. Really.” When she doesn't say anything, I fill the silence with what I thought was an innocuous question. “What was all that giggling about?” To my surprise the faint blush gets much brighter, and Katie is fidgeting nervously on the couch. Curious I press just a little. “Come on, what had you angels laughing like that.” This time the pause is so long, that I am just about to turn the conversation to school or Covid or anything when she blurts out something I wasn't expecting.

“Alison said that if her dad ever caught her being so disrespectful that he'd put her on his lap and spank her.” I've had a few of these spanking experiences with Alison and each time they've led to some pretty hot sex; before I can get my focus back on the present, Katerina adds an even juicier tidbit. “And then Gabby said that maybe you should be the one to spank us.”