Page 9 of Time Out

The question lingers in the humid air for a moment, and I want to tell her all the things that are wrapped up in that title. I want to take care of her. Body, mind, spirit, soul, pussy, ass, tits…all of her.

God help me, I want her to ask me for a cookie, and then tell her she has to suck me off to earn it. I want her to come to me with every problem and celebration, and be the man that fucks her like a filthy whore, but helps her chase down her every dream. Propping her up as she achieves every goal in life.

Cheering her on and keeping her in line like a good father should.

It’s depraved, but it pounds inside of me like a beast.

She smiles as she holds the pose as instructed, and God, her sweetness fucking wrecks me.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

She says it like a challenge, and in my thirty-five years on this planet, I’ve never wanted anything more. But even with her unraveling me, when I lay her down and feed myself right to her womb, it won’t be on a bathroom floor with four gin and tonics still clouding her mind.

“Soon enough, baby. Are you excited for that to happen?”

She licks those lips, blinking twice before she offers a shy nod.

“Good girl. God help me, but I’m going to fuck you like a dirty toy. Nothing will be off limits to me, do you understand?”

“I have to do what you say? No matter what?” Her voice hints at fear, but I swear I hear relief as well, and a new rush of anger boils in my belly at what her life must have been like, for her to be relieved a perfect stranger is about to take total control of it.

She needs a hero, that I can see. I just hope I can rise to the occasion.

“No matter what,” I confirm, as liquid warmth seeps from her opening, catching the light as a trickle eases down into the crack of her ass. It makes me want to drop to the floor and lick that tight little pucker of hers.

“Just like I would do for a real daddy. I’d do as I’m told, no matter what.” Fire bursts onto her cheeks as cum drenches the inside of my boxers.

“I’m going to be that for you.” I barely get the words out, the weight of my responsibility to her crushing my chest.

“I’m eighteen, so I’m not really a little girl.”

“Yes, but with me, you’re going to act like one. Aren’t you?”

I’m on my feet, her answer feeling more important to me right now than any other moment of my life. Her feet fall, legs still wide, but the pose is broken—as is the playfulness of the previous moment.

She could fight me. What I’m asking could turn her away from me. But I can’t hold back what I am with her. Who I am. Who I will be.

I hold my breath as she pushes up to sit, her knees starting to draw together, but I remind her with my foot I want her open to me.

Her legs stay wide, her pink fluttering folds glistening as I reach down, offering my hand.

“So... pretend like I’m younger? Is that what you’re saying?”

I slow blink, pushing away the thoughts of how wrong this could be. “Do you like thinking that you’re my little girl?”

I motion for her to put her hands in mine. Her tiny fingers drift to my palms and I ease her up onto her feet, guiding her to the bath, wanting more than ever to wash away the makeup and character she played on stage.

I lean down and nuzzle the nape of her neck as I tap the side of her leg, motioning for her to immerse herself in the warm water and bubbles.

As she sinks down, the bubbles make an almost buzzing sound as they pop and move to allow her access.

It reminds me of how wet I’m going to need her to be for her virgin body to take my size. There will be pain, that’s unavoidable, but I’ll make sure she’s as wet and warm as this bathwater before I teach her body just what she will be doing for me every day for the rest of her life.

Once she’s down in the water, I grab the wash cloth and soak it, then gently start wiping the grown-up off her face and revealing the little girl.

Once she’s fresh-faced, I drop the cloth to the floor and roll up my sleeves, dipping my hand under the water until I meet the slick warmth between her legs, pinching her chin with the fingers of my other hand so our eyes are connected as I rub the hard nub, watching her pupils dilate.

“You didn’t answer. Do you like thinking I’m your Daddy, and you’re my little girl?”

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