I practiced hard to be a good athlete (yes,volleyball players are called athletes; so are golfers; the verdict'sstill out on badminton players though.....). I studied really hard to getnot just an A- but an A or even an A+! I struggled toward my goals. Istruggled for my accomplishments. I didn't cheat, backstab, or deceiveanyone into giving me anything for free. I worked and I appreciated thevalue of good, solid, honest, hard work.And I helped Mindy whenever I could. Your study-mate let you down?. .. I don't know, the mood must have been right or something, because we leaned in, and we kissed.Now, I invite you to recall that we sort of skipped this part the last time, but that didn't mean it was nice. Really, really nice. Her lips met mine, slightly parted, warm, wet, and salty from the popcorn. The very tips of our tongues met at almost the same moment, shyly, then much more aggressively. She let out a soft little sound, and her hand landed lightly on the side of my face. My fingertips. We were lucky that her mother usually didn't got home until early evening, giving me plenty of time most days to continue her training uninterrupted. I made sure to use her mouth, her pussy, and of course her cute puckering little pink asshole nearly every day. My plan was moving ahead nice and smoothly, thanks to her obvious natural desire to be my sex toy. Her body and mind were gradually slipping into a deeper state of bliss with every fuck session we had. She loved being her Daddy's. Ginny and I had both received invitations to some of those parties, but decided we would rather be at home in our own bed together, than hanging out with a bunch of people who would probably be drunk or high.Dad was there about twenty minutes after I called him. We were home and in bed by midnight. We enjoyed each other a lot and I'm sure we had a lot more fun than those others did at the hotel.School was out the end of May, and I went to work for Mr. Sheffield again. This year I was a cashier.