In Love with Daddy Ch. 03

I stood and took the papers from her. She followed me as I sat down at the dining table and rifled through the papers.

"Do you need your lawyer present?" she asked. I noticed that Alex was still in the room but was keeping his distance, there in the corner. "I thought maybe I could just drop these off with you and—"

"I'll sign to this," I said. "I see that everything important is accounted for here. I . . . I want you and Alex to be taken care of." I signed the papers, initialed the appropriate spots, and gave them back to her. "There."

She looked through them again and then back at me. "Taylor, you do look a little better—classier?—than last time I saw you like this, I admit. Last time you looked like an absolute, uh"—here she paused, and then continued more quietly—"slut. This time you look a lot better, not as much make-up, a longer skirt, your chest isn't bare . . . I could never get used to this, but if that's what you want then whatever."

"Thanks," I said, and I meant it. "I still find you very beautiful, by the way . . . I am even still attracted to you, Becca. It's just that . . ." I stopped there, glancing over at my son.

They left so I was left all alone in the house again, feeling all sorts of weird things, strange emotions: some guilt over Jason, worry that I may have completely alienated my son this morning, some loneliness. I do know one person who would understand, though.

I dialed Lauren on my smart phone and ask her if she wanted to go to lunch. She said yes, she would love that. So I got into my car and drove to the restaurant, a sandwich shop. Entering, I noticed a young man—maybe 19 or 20—looking in my direction. I smiled at him, just to see what would happen, and he turned his eyes away for a moment only to return them again in the next—after I had started to turn my head away. I found Lauren sitting there at our table, a cola at her side in a tall thin glass.

"Hey," she said. "Wow, you look hot, bro."

I thanked her and sat down. "You look pretty good yourself, sis."

We ordered and started with the small talk before getting into some of the more important questions I had for her.

"Lauren, do you . . . think it's really love . . . " I began. ". . . between Dad and me?"

She put down her glass and looked into my eyes intently. "Yes," she said. "I do . . . Taylor, I watched you cry when you told him you loved him. That is real, I tell you."

I remembered that moment, the feeling welling up inside of me for him, and the salty tears streaming down the sides of my face. It felt real . . . but . . .

"But what if I find myself . . . thinking about other boys?" I ventured this very cautiously, careful to enunciate every word.

"Do you do that a lot?" Lauren asked.

"Yes," I said. "A lot. There's this coworker of mine, another nurse, he—"

"Jason," Lauren said, finishing. "I know all about him. Dad and I talked about him. Dad said he knows all about him."

"Yeah, he does."

"Dad also told me that he found himself looking at this nurse too," Lauren said. "He said that this nurse is extremely attractive, I guess."

Wow, Dad and Lauren really had talked about a lot of things. But Dad was thinking about Jason too? I suppose it was impossible not to, with that perfect big body of his . . .

"If, let's say," I said, trying to set this up carefully. "I were to, uh, accidentally have sex with Jason, what do you think—"

"Have you?" Lauren asked, her voice rising. She lowered her voice again when she asked, "Have you had sex with him?"

I sighed, looked away, then nodded my head. "Look, Lauren," I said. "He pretty much attacked me, last night, as I was heading towards the garage . . . I admit, though, that it was voluntary on my part after that."

"Oh god, Taylor. Dad will be heartbroken."

"I know," I said. "I will tell him eventually, of course. But for now . . ."

"You two are honestly the cutest couple," Lauren said. "You do not want to blow that over some meat head."

"Again, I know. I love Dad. I get that now: yes, it is true love. I'm just so worried about hurting him."

"Tell him," Lauren said. "Tell him tonight."

"Oh no . . ." I said, grimacing. "I can't. I will—"

"You owe it to him. You owe everything to him, really: your life, your childhood, college funds, everything. And you mean the world to him. You really do. I spoke with him all about it. He thinks he's found his 'soul mate' in you. You must tell him the truth, and don't be unfaithful anymore. Okay?"

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I sat at home on the couch again, anxiously watching the clock, just waiting for 4:30 and for Dad to return. He was a bit late but finally I heard him enter the front door and call, "Hey sweetie, look what I brought home!"

I got up and rushed over to him, giving him a hug and a kiss. He had some plastic bags in his arms and what I thought must have been a bottle of wine or champagne in a brown paper bag. "What's all this?" I asked.

"Oh, just some Italian food . . . from your favorite restaurant!" Dad said, kissing me again. "Remember that one we used to hit when you were a kid, down at May Harpel Ave? I got some of that and a bottle of champagne for us tonight."

"Oh Dad," I said, resting my head upon his shoulder, realizing again that yes, I do indeed love him. "I'll set up the candles and get some romantic background music playing!"

After we sat down, divided up our dishes, and poured some champagne, Dad said, "Honey, you are stunning tonight."

"Thanks, Dad," I said, blushing. "You are very handsome yourself, sweetie." I reached over and took his free hand in mine.

"I wanted to do something special for you, because of the other night," Dad said. "I mean, for helping out with Lauren but also because . . . I hurt you."

"Aww." I couldn't help but smile, but inside I was just dying, filled with guilt. I had hurt him. "Dad, that's kind of you."

"Well, I am incredibly, unbelievably in love with you," he said. "I would . . . I would marry you if I could."

"Really?" I ask. "Marry me? That would never be legal, ever, Dad."

"I know," he replied. "But we can make our own vows though, right?"

"I guess so . . ."

"Well then . . ." He stood up from the table and went down onto one knee in front of me. "Taylor Rylie Carter, will you marry me?"

"Oh Daddy!" I laughed. "Nice joke."

He laughed back but pulled something from his pocket. It's shiny . . . a ring! It's shining like a star in the dark—a ring, a ring! Dad put it between his fingers and repeated, "Taylor Rylie Carter, will you marry me?"

I squealed with glee and wrapped my arms around him, and said, "Yes! Yes I will! Michael Stanley Carter, I will marry you! I will! Is this—diamond?"

"Yes," he said. "It just shows how much I care about you, something that words cannot express."

We kissed, his hand sliding beneath my skirt a little, and I admired the diamond, my heart filled with both joy over it, and dread over what I will now have to tell him.

But before I can do that we were on the floor in the living room making out. He had my blouse unbuttoned in no time, and was fondling my 'breast' while his other hand explored my crotch where my penis was completely erect, aching for him. A moment after that and we were both completely naked, except that I was wearing his necklace, the ring, and my make-up, of course. My lipstick was now smeared all over my face and his, as well as on his neck.

I bent over him, kissing his nipples, sucking them as if I were a baby with its mother—and I desperately needed milk to survive. I could feel his wet penis sliding up and down along my sternum as I went from one nipple to the other. I licked my way down to his lower abdomen, and finally to his penis. I stuck out my tongue and slurped up the pre-cum forming there.

"You are so tasty, Daddy bear," I said, smiling up at him. "I prescribe a dose of Daddy bear's special semen, at least once per day."

He laughed, just as the night before, and I could feel his stomach contract and loosen, bouncing lightly against my face. I put my lips around his penis, making sure that my teeth didn't scrap against him like they did the first time we made love. I love the taste of him, that musky man smell around his crotch. His penis was in my mouth as far as it could go, and I wrapped my tongue around it as vigorously as I could.

"Son, I am going to go . . ." Dad said, above me. His breathing was extremely rapid now, heaving even. "I can't help it . . ."

With that, he came into my mouth. I felt the river of his semen fill the back of my throat. I swallowed it, leaving his penis in my mouth and feeling it as it became flaccid. I kept it in there for some time even after it was completely shrunk, still playing with it on and around my tongue. I had not yet had my orgasm, but I felt it was near so I let go of his penis and lay on top of him, my penis pressing tightly against his stomach. We French-kissed again, no doubt drops of his own cum entering into his own mouth. In seconds, I am coming, shooting myself out onto his stomach and mine.

Afterwards, we crawled up onto the couch where we cuddled, looking into each others eyes, lost in love. I had almost forgotten what I needed to tell him (wish it were so!), but I remembered now and knew that I needed to be honest with him.

"Dad," I said. "I know that, of course, we are not married. That was kind of a joke, right? But I do feel like we should commit to each other on more of a long-term basis. We should live like married couples do—be faithful and honest to each other."

"I would never betray you," Dad said, before I could finish. "Taylor, son, you are the love of my life, my purpose. You are everything to me, literally everything. I love you. Love you."

I felt like I was going to cry—which was fine now because my make-up was all messed up anyway—but I suppressed my tears. I must be strong.

"Dad," I said. "I must tell you something . . . I must be honest with you about something."

He sat still and gazed intently into my eyes, his lips pursed. "You can tell me anything," he said. "I will always love you."

"Well," I began, dreading what would come next. "I had sex with Jason last night, and lied to you about it."

He didn't say a word.

TO BE CONTINUED...