They heard the screech of a tent zipper and James stepped out into the sunlight. He was wearing a pair of small, dark blue shorts. Not a speedo, but something small and tight that left his every muscle out in the open to be appreciated.

James tossed back his greying hair and stretched his arms outward. Molly practically creamed herself watching the muscles of her Daddy's arms -- his chest, his legs -- tense and bulge.

"Maybe it's a good problem to have," Molly said. She jumped off the picnic bench and screamed, "Daddy!"

Her father wrapped his baby girl in his arms. Buried his nose in the crown of...