Page 3 of DILF

“You’re a grown woman who needs her daddy to pay for her car, her credit cards, her room and board, and whatever else she wants. So, no, I’m not going to sit back and watch you screw up your life, Charlotte.”

“How’s going away for one weekend going to do that?”

“First, you think his parents are going to think highly of you, after going on an overnight trip with your little boyfriend?”

“Oh my God,” she whines. “You sound just like Mom.”

I’m surprised her mother put her foot down about this, being that she was the kind of woman who’d want precisely this: her daughter dating a wealthy spoiled brat with a summer home in the Hamptons. A perfect prospective husband for Charlotte.

“Second, you’re too young to be—” I don’t finish the sentence, instead closing my eyes for a moment. I don’t even want to think about my baby girl having…having…

“Having sex, Daddy?” She has her arms crossed over her chest and is pouting. “I’m a grown woman. Sex is a part of life.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you.” I say, gripping the wheel tighter again. “You are not going and that’s final.”

“You know what…” She hesitates for a moment. “Maybe you’re the one that needs to…You need a date. Unwind. Something. Your entire focus can’t be me and Randy.”

I snort. “Trust me, honey. My focus is absolutely not Randy.”

“Well, maybe getting back out there and dating is still something to think about.”

What she doesn’t know is that I have been dating. Well, I wouldn’t call it dating, but I have been fucking. A lot. Before my wife and I divorced she and I barely had sex, so now that I’m a free man, I have to get it somehow. But I never, ever strayed. Not ever.

But that’s none of her business. She’s my daughter, and my sexual needs are not something I’m going to discuss with her.

“You need to focus on school.”

“That’s all I am focused on,” she whines.

“Bullshit. Randy distracts you. That’s all I hear…Randy this. Randy that. And what kind of douche name is Randy anyway?”

“Daddy!” she shrieks as I pull up into our driveway. Momentarily distracted, I see Lily in the rearview mirror, turning into her driveway next door. “I’m going to the Hamptons and you can’t stop me! I’m calling Mom,” she yells and slams the door behind her, marching into the house.

Annoyed by her tantrum, I run my palm down my face. My formerly sweet, obedient daughter is driving me fucking crazy. I hop out of my truck and lower my sunglasses a little to look at Lily climb out of her car. She bends over and retrieves a bag from her passenger seat, and her shorts ride up her ass. It’s a gorgeous ass, toned and tight. Painfully, my cock digs into the zipper of my jeans, but I can’t stop looking. She stands up and uses her hip to shut the door, her eyes wandering over her shoulder towards my house as if she feels my eyes burning a hole through her.

Our eyes lock for a brief moment when she lowers her glasses. Her tits heave up and down as her breath quickens and I see that little tongue again, darting out and licking those cherry lips. I’m not sure what the fuck is happening, but there’s an almost palpable electrical charge between us. I know for a fact that if I cross my lawn to get to her, she’d let me slide my hand into the front of her shorts to find her wet little cunt.

“Daddy!” Charlie yells from somewhere inside the house. “Mom’s on the phone. She wants to talk to you.”

Between my daughter’s tantrum and the inappropriate hard-on I’ve got over my daughter’s best friend, I think I’m going crazy.

Without losing eye contact with Lily, I holler back, “I’m coming.” And fuck, if that’s not exactly what I want to be doing with Lily. Coming. Hard.

3

LILY

Something just happened. Something big, and I can’t wrap my head around it. The way Linc, or Mr. Edwards (how I’ve always addressed him), was looking at me was different. It was hot and hungry and damn…I can’t stop picturing his mouth, and that beard, rubbing against me.

When he breaks the spell by stalking after Charlie, I take a deep breath to calm the insane hormones running rampant and head inside my parents’ house.

“Mom, Dad! I’m home!” I yell from the front door, which was left wide open apparently so they could load things into the U-Haul truck parked outside.

“Upstairs, honey,” my mom says. I take two steps at a time and am completely taken aback at how empty the house looks. I didn’t think moving would hit me so hard, but seeing the only home I’ve ever known practically empty, my throat closes up.

With a box in his hands, my dad walks over to me. “Hi, pumpkin,” he says, placing it down and pulling me in for a tight hug. “You took long getting here. You leave school late?”

“Hi, Dad,” I say, squeezing him a little longer. They’re going to be so far away now, I think, suddenly feeling the reality of the move. “I had a flat,” I say through a lump in my throat.

---