Dorsai

Jan

Paul and I had been friends for years – long enough that he and I had spent enough time together that his kids called me"Uncle Dan", even though they knew I wasn't related. Several years before, he had divorced from his wife, on grounds of 'incompatibility'. The divorce was relatively amicable, and when his wife decided to move to another state, he got custody of the kids.

There were 3 of them: Jan (whom I called 'Trouble', because she never was), 14, was cute as the proverbial bug's ear at about 5 foot 6 inches tall, 80 to 90 pounds, and with a slender – but nicely curved – build.

Leo, at 10, was undoubtedly the smartest of the bunch (prompting me to call him 'Brainiac'), which sometimes got him into trouble. Finally, there was John (who earned the nickname of 'Goober'), at 7, and something of a little hellion.

Paul and I were close enough that he trusted me to watch out for the kids when he had to make a trip out of town. Fortunately, the kids *knew* that he loved them more than anything else in the world, and that his trips were a part of what he did to make sure they had the things they needed. These trips were of varying lengths, due to his job as a truly exceptional salesman – he made damn good money from his commissions. Looking after the kids usually just involved getting them to and from the Catholic school they attended, making sure they ate properly, and infrequently, getting someone to a volleyball (Jan), soccer (John), or Karate (Leo) session. Surprisingly, they got along reasonably well – only rarely was it necessary to break up any arguments or (even rarer) an actual fight. The kids and I were close enough, in fact, that they frequently came to me with questions or problems they didn't think they could take to Paul. Paul and I had talked about it, and he didn't have any problem with me giving them suggestions and advice. He wasn't real happy about it, but realized that it was better the kids go to someone he trusted, than not have their questions or problems settled at all.

It was while Paul was on one of his weekend trips that I got my first good look at Jan. Paul had left early Saturday, and asked me to stop in that morning to get the kids up. I started, as usual, with Jan. By waking her first, she'd be able to help with getting things going and organized while I tried to raise the boys from the dead (right sound sleepers, they were). I knocked on her door, and after not hearing anything for a few seconds, opened it – only to be greeted with the sight of Jan holding her right breast (about the size of half an orange, with a light brown nipple) with her right hand, and with her left hand buried in her (lightly brown-furred) crotch. It was only a moment before she realized she wasn't alone (barely time enough for the door to open), and when her eyes opened and she saw me, she gave a little squeak, and snatched the bedcovers over herself. I quickly apologized for disturbing her, and said that I'd only wanted to wake her up for breakfast. That said, I apologized again, and closed the door, heading off to wake the boys.

As I was trying to get the boys up, I heard her take care of her morning ablutions; she was in the kitchen getting herself some breakfast by the time I finally got Leo and John moving.

When I entered, she looked at me, started blushing, and began acting very nervous. I figured she was just embarrassed, and figured the best thing I could do was to simply ignore it for the moment, and got myself a cup of coffee (ah, the nectar of life!).

About that time, the boys made their appearance, and breakfast started with the usual minor bickering and indecision on the boys' part.

Finally, though, breakfast was done, and Leo and John headed off to the local park in search of something to do.

Jan was cleaning the kitchen as I cleared the table, and I noticed that she was still rather nervous – frequent glances at me, starting to speak several times before stopping herself, and so on. I finally asked her if she would sit down at the table with me for a moment – which resulted in her looking both relieved, and even more nervous or frightened.

When I'd gotten a refill, and she was seated, I started out by telling her "Jan, I'm sorry I disturbed you this morning. I knocked, and didn't hear any answer, so I thought it was okay to come in; I didn't know you were busy." – which earned me the brightest blush I'd ever seen.

I followed up by saying "There's nothing for you to be embarrassed about; that's something that everybody does. I'm just sorry that I interrupted you, and embarrassed you. Next time, I'll knock louder, and wait a bit longer before opening the door."

That got me another blush (not so much this time), and Jan started to reply before stopping herself.