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My father was waiting for me on his front porch when I arrived. The day was growing late, and the air had taken on the soft glow of twilight. I climbed out of the car, giving Daddy a wave, and he bounded down the porch steps toward me.
Once Daddy had closed the distance between us, he took me in his arms. “It’s good to see you, Amie.”
I briefly returned the hug, giving him a quick pat on the back. “Thanks for letting me stay here for a bit,” I said.
Daddy pulled away so he could get a good look at me. I blushed under his scrutiny, lowering my eyes to avoid revealing more than I wanted to.
“I’m sorry about you and Justin,” my father said.
I forced a smile. “It wasn’t meant to be,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light.
Daddy released me, and we both took a step back. Though he was just shy of fifty, my father looked closer to forty. Only a few strands of gray were visible in his dark hair, and his face remained mostly unlined. A lot of people would say it was unfair that Daddy looked so damn handsome after the way he’d lived. The way he still lived.
My blue eyes were a mirror of his, but in most other ways, I took after my mother. Like her, I had light brown hair and a thin frame. While some described me as pretty, I felt I was forgettable, easily overlooked.
And now I was on my father’s doorstep, twenty-six years old and needing his help. Having broken up with my boyfriend of two years. I’d wanted a fresh start, so I moved out of the apartment Justin and I had shared, and I quit my dead-end job. Then I sold a lot of my belongings and asked my dad if I could stay with him at his house in a bigger city five hours north.
“You’re always welcome here, Amie,” Daddy had told me when I called. He could tell I was about to cry. “The spare room is all yours.”
Daddy was an author. I knew from his occasional text messages that he was working on a new novel, but he refused to discuss his works in progress, so I also knew better than to ask him about it.
He carried my suitcase into the house while I grabbed a couple of other bags full of my belongings. “You know I can’t cook for shit,” he said over his shoulder as we made our way to the spare bedroom. “But I can have something delivered if you’re hungry.” He was wearing a collared shirt and jeans, nothing fancy, but I couldn’t help but notice how sexy he was.
“I’m okay, thanks.”
The bedroom was as I remembered it from my previous visits. It was certainly larger than the one in my former apartment, and as I looked around, I knew it would easily hold the things I had brought with me, with plenty of room to spare.
“You’re welcome to change the décor if it doesn’t suit,” Daddy said, placing my suitcase at the foot of the bed.
“No, it’s perfect,” I assured him. “You always did have good taste.”
As I watched him move, I was reminded that he also had a poise, an elegance that I missed out on inheriting from him. I admired the easy confidence with which he carried himself.
Daddy slipped his hands in his pants pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Care for a drink?” he asked. “I put a Malbec in the fridge to chill.”
I raised my eyebrows and smiled. “You remember how much I like Malbec.”
“Of course,” he said. “I’m not completely oblivious.”
As we made our way to the kitchen, I asked, “Have you quit smoking?” It was hard for me to recall a time when Daddy didn’t have a cigarette in his hand.
“I did, indeed. Hardest fucking thing I have ever done,” he added. “I haven’t given up drinking, though. A man needs a few vices, right?”
“Oh, I think you have more than a few.” I sat down at the table and watched as he opened the bottle of wine, then poured a glass for me and himself. “Not that I’m pointing fingers. I have my vices, too.”
He carried the glasses to the table, then sat down across from me. “You? I don’t believe that. You’re an angel.”
“Justin would beg to differ,” I said softly, then took a sip of wine. “So… are you seeing anyone?”
Daddy gave me a crooked smile. “Depends on what your definition of seeing someone is.”
I rolled my eyes. “I know you’re normally fucking at least one woman. But are you in a relationship with anyone?” I asked.
He scoffed. “Now that’s a ridiculous question, Amie. I think we can both agree that I’m not relationship material.”
I stared down at my glass of wine and sighed. “Funny, because I don’t think I am, either.”
Daddy slid his hand across the table until his fingers brushed mine. “You never told me why you and Justin broke up.” His voice was low and tender. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about it…”
I shrugged and blinked back tears. “He didn’t believe I was really in love with him,” I said. “I don’t know why. We didn’t fight much, and we had a good sex life. But he didn’t think I was happy.”
“And you didn’t want to stay and try to work things out with him?” Daddy asked gently.
I gave him a hard stare. “That’s not really our nature, is it, Daddy?”
My father gaziantep escort reklamları didn’t grow angry at the accusation in my words; he wasn’t a man who became easily defensive. “Maybe it’s not,” he acknowledged. “Christ knows your mother and I didn’t fight to make our relationship work. But then again, your mother is absolutely insane.”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “She is insane,” I said. “I can’t even be around her right now. She’s so bitter – at the world, at me, at you.”
“Does she know you’re here?” Daddy asked before bringing his glass to his lips.
“No, and I hope she doesn’t find out. I would never hear the end of it,” I told him.
Daddy considered me for a long moment. “But your mother and I were young when we had you, Amie. We had no fucking idea what we were doing. You… you’re more stable, and you’re a bit older than we were then.”
“Daddy, I’m not even thirty,” I said, my voice edged with exasperation.
“I’m aware of that,” he said wryly, “but I don’t want you to convince yourself that you’re doomed at relationships, and then you end up making that a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“Like you did?” I asked with a big smile.
“Like I did,” he agreed.
I downed the rest of my wine, and Daddy poured me another glass. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”
I shook my head. “No, I’m pretty tired after that drive. I think I’ll go to bed soon, if that’s okay.” I was no longer sipping my wine but drinking it in large swallows. I craved the relaxed, quiet warmth it draped over me.
“Of course,” Daddy said. “I’ll probably be up late working, but I’ll try to keep the swearing and meltdowns to a minimum.”
“The writing’s going that well, huh?”
“I’m tempted to scrap this draft altogether and just start over,” he confessed.
I’d read all of my father’s novels, even the ones with graphic sex scenes. Especially the ones with graphic sex scenes. Even his critics acknowledged that he wrote sex very, very well.
“Maybe you’ll get a burst of inspiration,” I said. “Oh, and speaking of work, I’m going to start looking for a job tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll be able to get my own place before too long.” I didn’t want Daddy to think I planned to live with him forever.
“Take some time to decompress after what you’ve been through,” he advised. “You just left one life behind. Maybe you shouldn’t rush into another.”
I smiled and then finished my second glass before climbing to my feet. “Good night, Daddy,” I said.
He stood and came around the table. “You know where everything is,” he said, “but let me know if you need anything.”
Daddy started to kiss me on the forehead, the way he always did, but I cupped his face in my hands and pressed my lips to his. I felt him stiffen in surprise, though I made the kiss brief. “Thank you for being here for me,” I said, gazing up at him.
Daddy’s eyes held affection for me, along with something like regret. “I’m sorry I wasn’t before,” he murmured.
I drew away from him. “That’s ancient history,” I said, then added, “Don’t stay up too late.”
As I got ready for bed, I thought of Daddy’s apology. I knew he felt guilty about not being around for so many years, but I also knew that my mom made it almost impossible for him to see me, especially after he moved away.
He did more than enough to provide for me financially, and he even offered to pay for my college education. But after a year, I dropped out of school. Nothing held my interest for long, and I figured I didn’t need a degree in order to find a job that made me miserable.
I changed into pajama pants and a loose cotton shirt, then took my long hair from its braid. Again I wished I had my dad’s dark hair instead of my mousy brown locks. In the spare bedroom, I considered my reflection in the mirror, trying to see myself as Daddy did. I was more the prim librarian type, and much less the voluptuous sexpot type of woman he was attracted to now.
It made me curious as to why he’d fallen in love with my mother in the first place. And to hear them speak of it, it was a passionate love at one time. Then the fights began, along with Daddy staying out all night, and Mom’s vindictive temper flaring constantly. They split soon after I was born.
After I turned off the light and climbed into bed, breathing in the scent of clean sheets, I stared at the ceiling and tried to let the effects of the wine lull me to sleep. Though I was tired, my mind continued racing.
Again I recalled the final explosive argument I’d had with Justin, when I insisted that I was happy and only wanted him, trying to convince him as well as myself.
“No, I think you want someone like your father,” Justin shot back at me. “Someone reckless and selfish. I think you consider that exciting, so of course you find someone like me boring and unappealing!”
“That’s not true!” I protested.
He only shook his head and sighed. “Maybe you can fool yourself, Amie, but gaziantep escort bayan reklamları you can’t fool me. You’re fucking miserable. I’ve tried to be a good partner to you, but your heart isn’t in this, and I’m done.”
I might have gone on tormenting myself with the memory of Justin’s words if I hadn’t heard my father’s cell phone ring. His bedroom was next to mine, and while I knew Daddy was trying to keep his voice down, I could still hear his side of the conversation.
“I can’t, Bridget,” he said. “My daughter’s staying with me… Yes, she’s a grown woman, but I still don’t think she’d like me inviting you over so we can fuck, especially during her first night here.”
My eyes widened in the darkness. I felt a wave of guilt that my presence was interfering with Daddy’s personal life. But more than that, I felt a surge of hatred for Bridget, whoever the hell she was.
I heard Daddy laugh softly at something Bridget said. “We’ll get together soon,” he assured her.
I turned over on my side and placed my pillow over my head, not wanting to hear any more.
*****
The following morning, I woke around nine and grabbed a quick shower, then brushed my teeth. After putting my damp hair in its usual braid, I dressed in shorts and a tank top. My breasts were on the smaller side, but I usually wore a bra anyway. Not this morning, though.
I found Daddy in the kitchen, his back to me as he stood before the stove.
“Wow, you’re cooking!” I said. “I’m impressed.”
“Even I can scramble eggs,” Daddy replied. When he glanced over his shoulder at me, I noticed he gave my breasts more attention that I was accustomed to. As soon as he turned back to the stove, I looked down and saw that my nipples were hard and straining against the lightweight fabric of my shirt.
“I heard you on the phone last night,” I said, sinking into a chair at the table. “Sorry I’m interfering with your sex life.”
Daddy only snickered. “I’ll try to be quieter during future conversations, but yes, Bridget happens to be an amazing fuck, so turning her down only goes to show how much I love you.”
“Daddy, I’m touched,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
“As you should be.” He carried a plate of scrambled eggs and toast over to me. “Now eat.”
While we ate breakfast, I studied Daddy carefully, trying to chase away my fear that he might not want me in his house for much longer. “What are your plans for today?” I asked.
He let out an exasperated sigh. “Today I will be working on that goddamn novel, and this evening, I’m meeting a friend for dinner.” I raised my eyebrows but didn’t ask him anything about that. “What about you?” he wanted to know.
“I really should look for a job,” I told him, but he held up a hand to stop me.
“I said you need to take a break. Actually, I have a book I think you should read. A friend of mine wrote it, and it was published just last month.”
“Okay,” I said. “Thanks.” Spending the day reading was something I could easily do.
While I washed up the breakfast dishes, Daddy retrieved the book for me. I took it out on the screened-in back porch, sitting in a comfortable chair and putting my feet up. I wanted to enjoy the day before the air became too hot and sticky.
I ended up losing myself in the novel’s plot, taking breaks only to grab a drink or use the bathroom. When the temperature grew uncomfortably warm, I went inside to my bedroom and sprawled out on the bed, eager to discover what happened next in the novel.
It was late afternoon by the time Daddy came to find me. He wore a dress shirt and pants, and he was freshly shaved and showered. I drank in the sight of him.
“You look gorgeous,” I told him.
Daddy smiled. “Maybe you should move in here permanently,” he said. “You do wonders for my ego.”
“So who’s this friend you’re meeting?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Oh, he was my roommate in college. He’s only in town for a few days, and I figured we’d eat at one of the better restaurants around here, which, unfortunately, has a dress code.”
I knew it was irrational, but I was still relieved that Daddy wasn’t meeting a woman.
“Well, have fun,” I said, “and stay out of trouble.”
“Not fucking likely,” he responded with a grin. Then he nodded at the book in my hand. “How do you like it?”
“I love it!” I said. “Now I’m going to have to read everything this friend of yours has written.”
Daddy looked pleased. “Order a pizza when you get hungry,” he told me, then took his wallet from his pants pocket. I watched as he withdrew one of his credit cards. “Use this to pay for it.”
“Daddy, I can pay for it,” I started to argue, but he gave me a stern look.
“I insist.”
Reluctantly I took the credit card from him.
After he was gone, I wandered around the house, not daring to step foot in his office, where he usually retreated to work on his novel. Daddy kept almost everyone at escort gaziantep reklamları a distance from his creative process, and I was no exception.
His bedroom, however, wasn’t off limits. As the shadows deepened in the house, I slipped into his room and noticed that the bed was made, and his clothes were put away. He was neater than I had ever been.
I slid my palm over the navy blue bedspread, smoothing out a stray wrinkle. Then my stare settled on his bedside table.
It was wrong of me to snoop; I knew that. Daddy always respected my privacy, and I was certain he expected me to do the same when it came to his. Still, one peek couldn’t hurt.
On top of the bedside table was a notepad and pen. I knew those were there in case a certain sentence or idea came to him at night while he was in bed, and he could easily jot it down.
Leaning forward, I eased open the table drawer, and my eyes widened.
Daddy was certainly busy with the ladies. The drawer held condoms, lube, several dildos of different sizes, and a wand vibrator.
The sight of it made my breathing quicken, and I immediately grew wet. My only vibrator was small, a simple bullet I could tuck away in my underwear drawer. It got the job done, so I’d never thought to purchase anything else.
But now I was dying to try out the vibrator Daddy used on his lovers.
I figured he would be gone for hours, and I also guessed that I wouldn’t need much time to climax with this particular toy.
I could feel my face grow hot as my sudden horniness overtook me, and I yanked off my shorts and panties. With the vibrator in my hand, I lay on my back on Daddy’s bed. The silence of the house surrounded me before I briefly turned on the vibrator. The hum of the toy was loud, and my pussy throbbed in anticipation.
I lifted up my tank top to expose my bare breasts to the cool air. Then I placed my feet on the bed, my legs bent at the knees, and I let my thighs fall open.
I definitely didn’t need lube; my cunt was dripping with arousal. Nestling the head of the vibrator between my pussy lips so it rested against my clit, I took a deep breath and then turned on the power again.
The sensation immediately tore a cry from my throat. My God, it was so strong! I had to pull the vibrator back for a moment before trying again, but it wasn’t long before I grew accustomed to the stimulation, and the pleasure it delivered was constant.
Relaxing against the bed, I imagined Daddy using this very toy on his partner. I could easily see the heat in his eyes, could picture the way he licked his lips. The thought made my hips rock, and I pressed the vibrator more firmly against my clit.
“Ooh, fuck!” I moaned from low in my throat. It was so much stimulation, almost too much. And it was heightened even more when I used my free hand to play with my right nipple, and then my left.
Closing my eyes, I let all my inhibitions fade as I vividly imagined Daddy using the vibrator on me. That made a pre-orgasmic shiver, just a hint of what was to come, course through me.
“Yes, Daddy,” I whispered. “Yes, yes, please make me come!”
I could see his teasing grin; he would definitely make me beg. I used the toy exactly the way I believed he would, pressing it mercilessly against my swollen, tender clit, and then moving it away for a few moments so I wouldn’t become desensitized from the vibration.
It was only minutes before I felt my orgasm building. “Oh God, Daddy, you’re gonna make me come!” I whimpered. “Please, please, I’ll do whatever you want, Daddy!”
I heard his voice so clearly, it was almost as if he were in the room with me. “Yes, baby, come for Daddy…”
I let out a low scream, keeping the vibrator against my clit as I climaxed. My spasms made the toy’s steady buzz sound fainter, and my back arched off the bed while my thighs shook. My entire body felt like a clenched fist, and then it relaxed, only to seize again.
When I finally couldn’t bear any more stimulation, I turned off the vibrator with a trembling hand. Slumping back against the bed, I gulped in deep breaths, my palm pressed to my forehead. Even as I came down from the orgasm, my body quaked. I was soaking wet, and I could only hope my juices hadn’t dampened Daddy’s bedspread.
I rested until my breathing slowed and my skin no longer felt feverish. It was getting late, I realized, and I was hungry. Easing carefully off the bed, ever mindful not to leave traces of my arousal, I stood and regarded the vibrator I held. In Daddy’s drawer, I’d seen a spray bottle containing sex toy cleaner, and I was about to retrieve it so I could sanitize the vibrator and put it back where it belonged.
Then a wicked thought made me hesitate. Wavering, undecided if I should follow through on my dark impulse, I finally surrendered to it.
I left the vibrator on the top of the table in plain view, right next to Daddy’s notepad. Then I went to order a pizza.
*****
I was in my room, still immersed in the novel Daddy had loaned to me, when I heard him come into the house. Immediately my muscles tensed with nervousness.
What would he do when he found the vibrator in his room? I swallowed hard as I tried to guess.
Daddy stopped by my room on the way to his. I was lying on the bed, my hair out of its braid and my night shirt falling to the middle of my thigh. My father’s gaze briefly swept over my bare legs before his eyes met mine.
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