Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 263(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Daughters. Plural.
“Good to know.” I nod, listening to my vertebrae pop as I crack my neck. “So, where is this actress?”
“She’s coming,” Denny says with a slap of his hands. “You wanna sit? I can get you a beer–”
I shake my head. “You have thirty seconds to produce this girl. Then, it will take me ten seconds to know if she’s going to work or not.”
“Of course,” the father mutters. “Brigid is perfect. She’s been involved in theater since she was ten—”
I cut him off. “You now have ten seconds.” I press my fingers to the bridge of my nose and growl at the sound of a fly buzzing overhead. I fucking hate flies for more reasons than most.
A fuzzy little black and white dog is snoring under the yellow chair as I scan a smattering of photos on a mantle. To my surprise, I’m drawn to one. It’s clearly the father, with two little girls wearing cowboy hats as they stand on the edge of the Grand Canyon.
Fast, light footsteps come from behind as a charge prickles the air.
“We were supposed to be going on vacation.” There’s a blonde angel nodding toward the picture frame in my hand and her voice is more music than words. The sight of her nearly buckles my fucking knees. “Our father forgot to tell us we were on our way to Vegas and to our new home.” She waves a hand toward cracking paint and brown stains on the ceiling above. “To this day I don’t like surprises.”
Tunnel vision takes over. Blood rushes through my ears.
Is it her?
No. Can’t be. There are thousands of blondes in this town, but I’m a man that has an uncanny knack for micro-details and I’d give it hundred to one odds that this girl with that ass is the same one from the shelter.
Her dark-chocolate brown eyes bore into mine. She's smaller than I first assessed, but curvy and soft in all the right places, with those platinum blonde waves falling over her shoulders and around her childlike face, framing the pink magic of her cheeks.
She’s got on this fuck-you sort of gray tank-top with “Nope” written across the swell of her life-giving tits. Her earlobes are decorated with silver earrings that look like little ninjas. She’s all business up top, but on her lower level she’s sporting a gauzy white skirt that skims her knees, paired with white Ked’s tennis shoes and no socks.
Her lips are spun sugar and, fuck, her hips are swollen curves of rich softness and I want to cross the room and shove my face into her cleavage and wear her tits like earmuffs.
If I could regress into an infant and feed off those mother earth breasts for the rest of my life, I’d do it. My mouth waters as I imagine the sweet spray of her milk meeting my greedy tongue. I wonder for a moment if I’m being punked. This town is so full of fakes and falsehoods, this could be some kind of set up and the joke’s on me.
I shake my head. My sixth sense tells me there’s no false foreplay going on here.
She’s fucking perfect.
Any audition would be superfluous. This girl is already it. Already mine.
My daughter.
She’s a cock stiffener extraordinaire, and she doesn’t even know it.
My dick throbs down my pant leg, struggling for space as it spurts wet warmth onto my thigh. I’ve never reacted to a woman this way. I’ve had my share of stress relief in the form of pussy, but it was always something I calculated and worked into my schedule when necessary.
Another thing, I’ve never looked into a female’s eyes when I fucked. I’d always turn them away while I did the deed but right now all I’m thinking about is her brown beauties rolling back in her head while I stuff her full of every fucking inch of me.
I never questioned why I fucked in such an impersonal way until now. Now I know.
None of them were her.
Of all the women I’ve seen in this world, none have been close to this extraordinary. She fits my depraved fantasies to a ‘T’.
Fantasies I’ve never acted out or acted upon. But, my darkest secrets spring to life like a field of sweet corn in June. The thick irony dripping over me like cream.
The only thing that’s ever gotten me off is the thought of me as a father getting it on with my daughter. Not as a child, that shit turns my stomach.
But, barely legal, having Daddy teach her all about first times? Sure.
Or, in her twenties, coming home from college after blowing her finals and Daddy comforts her with a nice ass fuck to clear her mind? You bet.
Oh, and one of my favorites…she’s running her ass around the house on her birthday wearing nothing but one of Daddy’s dress shirts unbuttoned down to her navel. I give her a ripe red ass and a lesson on what happens to a cock tease. I face fuck her until she’s got a throat full of my cum and her cheeks are wet with tears. Then to top it off, a good-hard pounding on the hood of the new Mercedes I just bought her as a birthday gift.