When Teresa got word from her lawyer that the judge was granting her divorce, she let me take her out to dinner, just the two of us; the girls were informed that it was a "grown-up" situation, and reluctantly accepted their exclusion. I made it up to them a couple of weeks later by taking just THEM out for pizza, over Teresa's mild protests.

Another aspect of the situation was that as all of us gradually got used to my intermittent presence in the house, we became less and less concerned about any formalities such as how dressed we were. Not that anybody was running around naked or anything; simply that it wasn't anything worth noticing if one of us was wearing only their bathrobe at breakfast, for example.

Naturally enough, there were a few times that I'd catch sight of one of the girls scampering away dressed only in panties — and perhaps a bra. To save embarrassment all the way around, I always pretended not to have noticed anything; but the visions of their nubile young bodies stayed with me.

I'd been working late for a couple of weeks helping with the fabrication of a system that I'd helped design, and finally gotten home at a reasonable hour one afternoon. When Teresa told me over supper that night that they would be going out to do some shopping later, I figured it was the perfect opportunity for me to come upstairs and have myself a nice, hot soak to relieve some of my overused muscles. I acknowledged what she said, and later, after I'd heard her car leave, I got my things together and went upstairs. When I opened the door to the bathroom, I was greeted by the sight of Donna just stepping out of the tub as she dried her hair with a towel.