She rode alongside Keith, with Judy and Tommy behind them.

They stopped at a refreshment stand, and Keith bought them all cold drinks. They sat at a table and cooled off.

"Why doesn't Judy wear shorts in this heat?" Donna asked Keith. "I'd think a dress would make her sweat so more."

Judy smiled. "Daddy likes…"

"Because all he shorts are dirty," Keith interrupted quickly, darting a glance at his daughter, a warning glance, Donna thought.

She told Keith of her divorce and found out he as a widower. She smiled and listened to his talk, her chin cupped in her hand. She crossed her legs under the table, swinging her foot back and forth, making her inner thigh rub at her cunt, shivering a little with the sensation. Finally Keith stopped talking and simply looked at her.

"Bull shit," Donna said, smiling at him.

"What?"

"Bull shit, Keith," she said. "You don't have any problem with Judy. You don't have to lie to me. I know about single parents, and I know when they have problems; you don't."

He grinned sheepishly. "I thought I was supposed to say those things. Women are supposed to take pity on a single father and take them home and sympathize with them, give them hugs and kisses and pats, and tell him what a great job he's doing with his little daughter."

"It might work with some women." Donna smiled back at him. "Be honest now."

She glanced at Tommy and Judy, who seemed deep in a conversation of their own, heads together. Boys and girls their age never had any trouble becoming friends, she thought.

She looked back at Keith. "What is it you want, Keith. Do you want to fuck me, suck me… or both? Do you want to feel me up and get your nuts off and wham, barn, thank you, ma'am. Or…" her brown eyes sparkled mischievously, "do you want to smell my panties?"