Close knit family

the girls, and treat them, I also saw how you were when you told me about seeing Donna — and I don't think that anybody could have doubted that it really had been an accident, and that you really were sorry about it. If you were that way about just seeing one of them, don't you think I'd know how much more concerned you'd be about anything actually happening? And how careful you'd be about it? After dealing with my louse of an ex-husband, don't you think I could spot someone that was faking the sincerity you were actually showing?'

I have to admit to feeling no small measure of relief at hearing that she wouldn't have my nuts to hang on her key chain for just looking, but hearing that she'd be okay if anything more happened didn't settle my mind any — it seemed to imply that she considered it an actual possibility. But that was for later; what I needed to know then, she'd answered.

I asked a few more 'what-if' questions, but it quickly became clear that she not only trusted me not to be starting anything, but to actively resist — and that if I couldn't find any other way, she was confident that I'd do whatever was necessary with patience and consideration. It was certainly flattering, but also pretty daunting, too, for her to have that much trust and confidence in me.

With that out of the way, I asked her how she was doing at work — and easing the conversation toward more casual topics.

I finally decided that if Teresa was okay with it, and Donna wanted me to see her, then there wasn't any reason not to simply enjoy whatever little shows the youngster wanted to put on for me. I had no interest or intent in making them happen, but was willing to accept whatever views of herself that Donna was willing to provide.

And provide them, she did. It got to the point that my seeing her topless was relatively common, and the nudity happened often enough that it actually stopped shocking me each time — though I never stopped appreciating the way she looked.

Donna got so blatant about it, in fact, that Teresa was finally witness to what was happening. I'd knocked on the door to Donna's room while Teresa was behind me, and after Donna told me

'Okay', I opened the door — only to see Donna apparently trying to reach something on the top shelf of her closet while naked. Stretched out the way she was only highlighted the curves of her bust and ass; and when she was done, she turned and faced me almost straight on. I saw her eyes flicker to where her mother was standing, but all she did was respond to the warning I gave her that she needed to get any dirty clothes together so they could be washed. After I closed her door, I turned to look at her mother; Teresa just gave me some unfathomable look, and didn't say anything.

After that, it wasn't long before Donna was comfortable with the idea of doing whatever she had to in whatever state of (un)dress she happened to be in. She didn't turn up for supper naked, or anything like that; but if she started to get ready for bed and needed something from another part of the house, she wasn't the least bit reluctant to go get it while topless, or even nude. Teresa witnessed the majority of those events, and to the best of my knowledge, never said a word about any of them.

With Donna being the oldest, her bedtime was the latest, so Karen and Wendy seldom saw the trips Donna made in the latter part of the evening; but they certainly saw some of the ones that happened during other parts of the day. After the trips continued for a while, they apparently decided that it was okay for THEM to do the same thing. The first time I saw Wendy calmly walking down the hall toward me while wearing only a pair of panties, I practically fell over -

not just from surprise, but from how she looked. Her breasts weren't but about the size of half a lemon, with a very similar shape… and about as beautiful and perfect as they could be. The tips of her breasts were slightly puffy (think of that rounded bit on the end of a lemon to get an idea of the right proportions) and rose pink. Both of her areolas looked like a confection of some kind, and from the center of each sprung a small pink pebble of a nipple. As she walked toward me, her breasts didn't jiggle or sway in the slightest, telling me how firm they must be; when she got close and saw that I was looking at them, both of her nipples extended slightly as she gave me a self-satisfied smile. After she went by, I turned my head to see that her little butt was creating some very interesting motions inside the panties that barely covered it.

A day or two later, I was in the kitchen to see what groceries I could/should bring home when I heard the fridge door open. From the other side, I heard Karen's voice ask if we had any juice. I said that we didn't, and that I was going to get some on my way home from work the next day. I heard her express her disappointment, followed by the sound of the fridge closing. I turned as I started to ask if there was anything else she wanted while I was at the store, only to discover that she was standing there stark naked. She moved to face me when I spoke, giving me the chance to see that her breasts were roughly the size of half an orange and generally conical, with small, dark areolas that sported nipples about the size of a small bean. Though less curved at waist and hip than her older sister, she was still plainly female in shape. Between her thighs, she had a small wedge-shaped patch of sparse pubic hair; I could easily see the skin underneath, and the cleft of her sex. Her legs looked incredibly long, and were both slender and nicely shaped. I managed to finish what I'd started to ask her, and listened as she told me the couple of things that she wanted before she turned and left — giving me the chance to admire the firm globes of her rounded little ass as she walked away. Even after she was out of sight, I could only stand there with the vision of how she'd looked in front of me.

After that, I was simply careful not to take any overt notice of any exposed girl parts when Teresa was around — I didn't turn my head to look at them, didn't follow them with my eyes, or anything like that. But the brief glances I took were more than sufficient to fill out the memories of them I got at other times. There came the point that I even saw Wendy nude; the few hairs I saw at the base of her belly were as dark as the hair on her head was light. I finally caught on that although Wendy and Karen weren't as actively trying to let me see them in little or no clothing as Donna seemed to be, they weren't reluctant to take advantage of whatever opportunities they were presented with. I doubt that it took much more than a month for me to know what each of them looked like more intimately than I suspected even their mother did.

After I'd divorced, I naturally went back to masturbation to relieve my sexual needs; using a prostitute of any kind scared me because of the risk of disease, as did the idea of casual bar or club encounters. I was still more than a little gun-shy about getting involved in any kind of relationship with a woman because of the divorce, so that pretty effectively limited my options for finding releases for my physical needs.

But after the first little 'show' that Donna had given me, and I'd gotten myself off in the bathroom, I found myself thinking about her (and even Karen) as fodder for my masturbatory fantasies. I had no plan or intent to actually try to make any of those fantasies come true, and invariably felt guilty about them afterwards — at least, at first. But as I saw the girls wearing less and less, more and more often, my guilt afterwards became less intense and shorter-lived. I still wasn't looking for anything to actually happen; I simply didn't concern myself as much about what I was 'just thinking'.

We were having a movie night, and I was in my usual seat in the middle of the couch. Donna was on one side of me, and Wendy was on the other; Karen had opted to sit on the floor in front of me, between my feet. Since we got a bit of a late start on the movies, Teresa had told the girls that they could stay up past their usual bedtimes, but that they had to go to bed immediately afterwards. All three had opted to go ahead dress for bed ahead of time. Donna was only wearing one of my old tee shirts and a pair of panties; I know that's all she had on because I could see the way her nipples faintly dented the material of my shirt, and caught a glimpse of the panties when she sat down next to me. Wendy had on actual bed clothes, but they consisted of a pair of very small shorts and very small (and rather snug, revealing the general shape of her breasts) top.

Between my feet, Karen was wearing panties and a girl's sports jersey.

We had two movies to watch; the first was a comedy that had all of us laughing. The second was more of an adventure thing. After the second movie started, Donna took one of my hands and held it in front of herself, gripping it tightly during the more active or tension-building scenes. It wasn't until about halfway through the movie that I realized that I could feel something more than just her hands touching mine. Barely moving my head, I was able to look down and over to see that she had the backs of my fingers pressed against the side of her breast.

After Teresa had warned me that one of them might try something like that, I wasn't sure if Donna had put my hand there deliberately, or simply let it drift there while her attention was on the movie. The contact was small and light, and I decided to wait and see what was going on. If it was accidental, she'd realize it soon enough, and move my hand; if it was deliberate, I could expect her to increase the contact.

When a little more of the movie had played out, I had my answer: she had gotten more of my hand touching