A good neighbor

understanding and all that with them, but there's still too much of how I grew up inside me for me to really make it work. That's why I told you that I'd be okay with YOU talking to them about it — I was hoping that if they went to you, then I wouldn't have to do it. But if you don't know anything about them being together, then… then I guess I'm going to have to talk to them, anyway.'

She was nearly in tears by the end, and I could tell that it hadn't be easy for her to tell it to me.

Still ignoring the bit about whether or not I'd known about the girls, I asked her 'Andrea, if you're still uncomfortable talking about stuff like that, what are you going to talk to them about?

And more importantly, what are you going to say? Are you happy with the things that you were taught?'

Sniffling, she answered 'No.'

'Then why would you hurt your daughters by dumping all that garbage on them? Don't you think you'd be doing more for them by just giving them the facts, and telling them about other viewpoints, and helping them learn to make their own decisions? If you love them, why would you judge them so harshly for just being who they are — two intelligent, loving, pretty girls? All it sounds like they're doing is comforting each other, and making each other feel good and happy

— is that really so wrong? Can you honestly think that your own daughters that you gave birth to, and raised, and love, could be that bad?'

The tears were in full force when Andrea plaintively demanded 'But what else can I do? I don't know anything else!'

Taking her hands in mine, I told her 'Listen to me, Andrea. They aren't my daughters, but after watching them grow up, it almost feels like they are, sometimes. I know you don't know any better! But if you'll let me, I can help you figure this out. I'm probably as tolerant as it sounds like your folks were conservative — you don't have to tell the girls that you approve of what they're doing; I doubt that you could, anyway. But if you'll let me help you, I'll bet you can get rid of enough of the stuff you're still carrying around from your parents that you can at least be able to tell them that you know, and that you still love them anyway. I've been here to help before, so let me help with this, too; you said that you hoped they'd come over to me with their questions so you didn't have to deal with it, so tell THEM that it's okay, too. I'll probably end up making them more open about this stuff than you are, and more willing to talk and all that — but don't you think that's better than having them all tied up in knots about it like you are?'

She considered what I'd said for a couple of minutes before asking 'You… you'd do that? Help me that way, with MY problems? And even talk to them, and help them understand why it's you talking to them instead of me, without making me sound like some kind of crazy person?'

'Well, I can't guarantee how it'll turn out, but I'm willing to try.', I assured her. 'Don't you think that's better than the alternative?'

The waterworks had mostly dried up, but she was still sniffling as she told me 'I think they'd be a LOT better off learning even a little bit of what you think and know, than they would getting everything from me. Bill wasn't dumb, by a long shot, but even he thought it was good to listen to the things you had to say.'

I got her to look into my face as I cautioned her 'I told you, Andrea, there aren't any guarantees.

There's no telling where this will go, what will happen along the way, or how it'll turn out. I can only promise you three things — that I'll never lie to them, that I'll never try to trick them, and that I'll never hurt them. Beyond that…'

She continued to look into my face for several seconds before telling me 'Okay, I'll accept that.

You've made me those three promises, and as long as you keep them, I'm willing for Em and Gail to come over to you for the things that I know I shouldn't be talking to them about. As messed up as I know I am about sex and all that, I'm not going to bother you about what you talk to them about or what they learn from you. Unless they come home crying or upset, I'm going to figure that they're okay with you and not come looking for them or worrying about them. I know that leaves you — and them! — a pretty big opening, but I'm going to take your promises at face value. And so that nobody gets put into the position of having to lie or cause any hurt feelings, I'm only going to ask questions if I see that one of them is bothered about something, and only enough to help if I can.'

Even though she didn't come out and say it, I knew that if I did anything to actually abuse either of the girls, she'd have my scrotum for a coin purse — and I wouldn't have blamed her in the slightest. Still looking into her eyes, I said 'I can live with that.', answering both what she'd said, and what she hadn't.

That was all she needed to hear on the subject of the girls, and a couple of minutes passed before she started telling me how things were going at work for her. In return, I told her how I was doing, and the two of us sat there and chatted for over an hour. When I asked, she said that she still had to go in to work the next day, so I excused myself and went home after we'd agreed to get together the next evening to work out how to deal with her immediate problem with the girls.

As I went to bed, I thought about all that had been going on the last few months — not just between me and the girls, but what I'd seen and heard of Andrea, her job, and all of them.

Neither Andrea or I expected to find a quick or easy solution for how she could talk to Emma and Gail about what she'd seen — and we didn't. Andrea easily admitted that the single biggest problem was her own upbringing and attitudes; recognizing the problem wasn't the same as dealing with it, however. Still, with no small effort and plenty of patience and commitment, we finally managed to get her to the point that she was able to accept that while she didn't like what the girls had been (and almost certainly were) doing, she was able to at least consider it without going off the deep end. With some more work, and careful preparation beforehand, she was finally ready to sit down with the two of them and talk to them about it.

Naturally, both of them came over to tell me about it afterwards — something Andrea had told me she expected, and was fine with. Both girls were embarrassed that their mother had seen them, and nearly dumbfounded at her (apparent) equanimity. As I'd agreed with Andrea, I told them that while there wasn't anything to be embarrassed about, they should still take care not to do anything when or where their mother might find them — that even though she hadn't told them that it was bad, or that they had to stop, that didn't mean that she actually approved of it. I went on to suggest that unless they wanted her to say anything like that, they needed to be a lot more careful; then went on to tell them that they could come over to my place to be with each other, if they wanted to. Both were delighted, and didn't have much (any) trouble talking me into letting them show their appreciation with a repeat of what we'd all done after their first afternoon together.

Slowly, and carefully, Andrea let them know over the course of the next couple of weeks that she was okay with the idea of them coming over to my place not only more often, but for longer periods of time. After that, she got them clued them in that she wasn't going to be terribly inquisitive about why they came over, or what happened.

When Andrea got an invitation to attend a special three-day, two-night seminar, Gail and Emma were overjoyed when she agreed that they could just stay with me while she was gone, rather than having me running back and forth between the two houses. To my relief, the girls didn't insist on any kind of sex marathon. We certainly had our share of fun with each other, and both of them stayed in my bed at night, but that was about the extent of it. When Andrea got back, both of them were considerably happier and more chipper than they'd been when she left; Andrea mentioned it only in passing a couple of days later.

With Emma and Gail coming over more often, together and individually, I had even more opportunities to slowly increase the level of intimacy I had with them. From using only their hands and mouths on my cock, it didn't take long for them to begin finding pleasure at having it between their legs — and then actually having it rubbing against the outsides of their vaginas.

Along with that, it was easy enough to get them to accept the idea of carefully using their fingers to touch each others opening, and even start pressing against it. When they inquired about their virginity, I dug out a hand mirror I had, and I sat down with the two of them and helped them open themselves and each other enough for them to see the barrier that defined them as virgins.

Neither hymen appeared to be much more than a thin ring to me, and didn't think that either one would be much of a problem when the time came. Both of them wondered aloud what all the fuss was about; I took the