Daddy and Little One Ch. 22

Little One sat patiently at the large desk in Daddy's study, practicing her most professional voice, waiting for someone to answer the phone. In a few seconds, she heard a delightfully smooth feminine southern accent.

"Thank you for calling Diamond Gulf Property Management. This is Grace. How may I hepyoo?"

Little One smiled before replying. The woman sounded a little like Daddy.

"Hello, I'm calling on behalf of Robert Pater. May I speak with someone about making his house ready for occupancy, please?" "Yes ma'am, I can hepyoo with that. When will Mr. Pater arrive?"

Little One quickly read the dates and waited as she listened to the woman tap on her keyboard. It felt a little strange to be addressed as 'Ma'am". Even though Daddy was "Sir" to most people, it never occurred that she might be Ma'am to someone.

"Will Mr. Pater be having guests?" Little One had not expected this question.

"I don't think so," Little One said hesitantly. "Just the two of us."

"That's fine. Is there anything you will need during your stay?" Another unexpected question.

"I don't know." Little One answered. "I've never been there before."

"Oh, Honey, you are going to have a wonderful time. It's a lovely house. We'll go in the day before you arrive and open all the windows and put fresh linens on the beds. The pantry will be full of good stuff to eat and Mr. Pater's brandy will be in the liquor cabinet."

"Thank you, so much," Little One answered.

"Well, thank you as well, Mizz Pater. If there is anything else I can do for you, please call me."

"Yes, I will, good bye." Little One put the phone down and closed her eyes, not waiting to hear the click. "Mizz Pater" was running through her head, wondering why the woman would think she was Robert Pater's daughter. She had been careful not to say "Daddy". Suddenly it hit her. "Mizz" means "Mrs." Little One closed her eyes and sat still, wondering how Cinderella would have felt if someone at the ball had called her "Mizz Prince Charming".

The heavy fat pen that stayed on Daddy's desk was in her hand and she watched "Mrs. Robert Pater" flow from the tip in her perfect school girl script.

"Mizz Robert Pater," she said aloud and giggled. Little One picked up the phone receiver and said "Hello. Yes, this is Mizz Pater," to the dial tone. The receiver rattled as her shaking hand tried to place it back on its cradle. "Hello," she repeated as she stood and extended her hand to an imaginary guest. "I am Mizz Pater. I am so happy you could be with us tonight." Little One wrapped her arms over her breasts and closed her eyes. She could feel her heart beating fast and took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Mizz Robert Pater," she whispered and dashed from the study, grazing the doorway as she ran through the front room, sliding on the slick floor past the stairs and came to a stop by the large mirror in the hall. Little One stopped dead and stared at her reflection. She rose on the balls of her feet and the slick soled blue flats she always wore around the house had been replaced with white satin pumps. Daddy's big white shirt became a long white dress. Her hands held the wide lace of a wedding gown above her knees as she turned one foot to view the dangerously high heel.

Little One studied the lace a moment and decided it was too ornate. She let it drop over the toes of her shoes and it became the plain hem of a satin gown. Her hands slid up over the smooth fabric to lift and cup her breasts. This is where the lace should be, she thought. A wide band of lace circled her waist just above where the gown draped over her hips. Vine like curls rose from the band, sprouting leaves and delicate flowers as they spread across the bust. She dropped her hands and stared at her bare white shoulders and tight cleavage.

"Oh my," she said aloud, wondering if a person could breathe in so tight a wedding gown. The word 'wedding' made her shudder and her face was suddenly red. She bent and grabbed the hem again and bolted up the stairs, taking two steps at a time, hoping her heels would not catch on the stair tread, not slowing down until she fell backwards on the big bed in Daddy's bedroom.

The ceiling fan turned over her head. Little One tried to concentrate on the slow moving blades, wanting to block wedding images, but it did not help. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The scent of Daddy's cologne was in the sheets. Little One moaned and put her hands over her face. This fantasy was too intense. She tried to wipe it from her mind, but it played like a video full of fast cuts, flashing to one scene to another. A church full of people stared at her, but she could not imagine who they might be.

Little One sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her reflection in the dessing mirror, watching the blush fade from her cheeks. The wedding gown was gone, changed back into Daddy's shirt. She felt a sudden emptiness. When she lived in the Home, she had learned it was easier to not want things. When she came to live with Daddy, she had not wanted for anything. Wanting was a strange feeling.

Little One awoke and opened her eyes to an unfamiliar sight. The light was coming from the wrong side of the room and the sheets felt different. It was a moment before she realized she was at the Beach house. The air smelled different and there was faint roar. It sounded almost like a strong wind, but softer. Daddy was not with her, but his pillow was pushed close to hers, just as it would have been in her regular bed.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes, looking around the room. It was simply furnished, but very neat. It had been dark when they arrived the previous night and the long drive exhausted her. She barely remembered Daddy carrying her from the car and placing her in bed. Her clothes were draped over a chair, but she was not sure if Daddy undressed her, or she had done it herself.

The wooden floor creaked under her feet as she stepped through the door and found herself in a large room that stretched from one corner of the house to the other. The far wall was all large windows which looked onto a wooden deck. Beyond the deck was a blue gray horizon. Little One's eyes adjusted to the bright daylight and she saw a brilliant white beach stretching down to the water of the Gulf of Mexico.

She pushed the door open and a stiff breeze pulled it away from her. There was another house to the right, with more beyond it and large high rise buildings farther down the beach. Little One looked around for people, but there was no one in sight. She walked to the rail of the deck and stood there, letting the salty air blow over her naked body. The deck was at least twelve feet above the ground and gave her a full view up and down the beach. The morning sun was just over the tall buildings in the east and the sky was turning a brilliant blue with patches of bright white clouds.

A few people walked by the edge of the surf, but they were too far away to see her. A man stood up by the water, directly in front of the house. He held a long fishing rod in both hands and swung it over his head. Little One recognized the shape of Daddy. Even at this distance, his wide shoulders and large arms were distinct. Her first impulse was to bound down the wooden steps, but thought she ought to dress first. Little One had brought an entire suitcase with beach wear, but didn't take time to unpack. She pulled up the shorts she had worn in the car and grabbed Daddy's shirt, snapping the top two buttons as she ran barefoot down the stairs.

Little One tried to run, but her feet sank to the ankles in the dry sugary sand, pulling all strength from her calves and thighs in just a few yards. Daddy had vanished below the horizon and she had to plod with slow deliberate steps toward the Gulf. The white sand became darker and firmer, making it easier to walk.

Daddy was sitting on a mat, close to the surf wearing only a pair of ragged cutoff pants. A large ice chest was on one side and his fishing rod was on the other. It was held upright in a piece of plastic pipe and the line stretched out into the water. Little One stopped to catch her breath. The walk from the house was more labor than she imagined possible.

She called to him, but the roar of the waves covered all sounds. Daddy sat still, watching a large orange float bob in the swells. Every other swell would form a wave and the float vanished in the foam to reappear on the other side as it passed. Suddenly the rod bent toward the surf and the reel spun as the orange float was pulled under. Daddy stood and took the rod in hand, letting a little more line play out before sharply jerking back. He dipped the rod slightly and turned the handle, keeping the line tight. The muscles across his back rippled under the skin as he twisted at the waist to raise the rod slowly, keeping the tip bent under the strain.

Little One dashed the short distance over the wet sand to stand by his side. "Daddy!" she exclaimed. "You caught a fish." Daddy grinned at her without letting up on his effort. "Let's hope so." The float reappeared and darted left and right as the fish was pulled into shallow water. A flash of silver broke the surface and the helpless fish flopped as the wave receded, leaving it gasping in the air.

Daddy held the rod high in his left hand, keeping the line tight as he bent down and picked the fish up by the gill. The fish continued to flop as it hung from Daddy's fingers. It was almost as long as his arm and reddish brown iridescent waves ran down its scales as it flexed. A large round spot just at the tail fin looked like another eye.

"Daddy, it's beautiful. What kind is it?" "This is usually called a redfish, but today, this is a lunchfish." Daddy set the rod back into the pipe and curled the fish into the ice chest. The ice rattled and the chest rocked as the redfish settled into its new home. He turned to Little One, obviously quite proud of himself. "Do you want go for a swim?"

Little One looked as the brownish green water. A small wave washed foam around her bare feet. " Swim? You mean in there?" She had just seen a fish almost half her size come out of the water and now was not sure she wanted to go where there might be more.

"You can swim, can't you?" Daddy asked.

"Of course I can swim, but it was always in a swimming pool. I could see what was in there." Daddy chuckled, thinking of the sea monsters going through Little One's mind.

"Don't worry," he said, slipping off his canvas shoes taking her hand. Little One stepped to the edge and let a small wave wash around her feet. The water was not as cold as she expected. The sand dropped off and she was suddenly thigh deep in the swirling water. She squeezed Daddy's hand, half to keep her balance and half to keep from dashing back toward the dry sand. Daddy could see her distress and stifled a laugh.

Daddy tugged her in the other direction and she expected to be neck deep, but the sand rose and they were knee deep again. Little One looked down. The water was clear and she could she her red toenails dig into the sand. A small swell moved under her and snapped at the backs of her knees. She turned to face the Gulf and saw a larger swell moving toward her. It rose between her thighs, almost touching her shorts.

"Look!" Daddy called, pointing at the even larger one following it. Little One gripped his hand as the water rose from knees to over her waist. Cold water rushed between her thighs, soaking through her shorts and shirt tail. The force almost rocked her over. Her arm wind milled through the air and slapped the water, splashing her face.

"It's salty!" she said in amazement.

Daddy laughed and kicked against the sandy bottom to push them back against the moving water. Little One felt weightless as she kicked, not touching the bottom. A small swell passed under, tugging them toward the beach, but Daddy held them in place, rising to keep their heads above water.

Little One pulled her hair from her eyes and laid her head back on Daddy's shoulder. The gray mist had cleared and the sky was a brilliant blue. Daddy's eyes, she thought, and closed her own eyes, feeling nothing but his neck against her cheek and thinking she could easily fall asleep like this. Daddy's voice called her back to the waking world. "Look, the tide is coming back in.

Little One opened her eyes to see a new swell rise on the horizon rise and hide the Gulf beyond it. It grew taller, rising high above her head, until the top curled over and turned white as it rolled toward them. Her first instinct was to scramble back to the safety of the beach, but Daddy held her firmly against his chest. A trough of low water ran ahead of the wave.

"Hold your breath" he said, yelling to be heard over the roar. As the water receded around them, Daddy crouched and waited for a moment and then sprang into the face of the wave. Cold water covered her head, muffling the sound, as they tumbled backwards and rising under the force of the water. The roar returned and Little One found herself flying through the air on the foamy crest of the wave. It lasted only a moment and her feet touched bottom again as she watched the wave roll up the beach.

Little One shook her head to clear the water from her ears. "I want to do that again," she said and dashed back into the surf, high stepping until waist deep water made it impossible to move fast. The next wave came upon her quickly and she tried to jump into it as Daddy had, but was too slow. Daddy stood at the water's edge and watched her disappear into the rolling wave.

Her feet came out of the foam, kicking wildly as she tumbled in the crest. Daddy braced himself against the current, trying to get closer, leaping to clear the wave as he met it. A mop of wet black hair appeared and Little One stood up in waist deep water, wiping her eyes and spitting salt water.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Little One pulled the hair out of her face and grinned. "I didn't do very well that time, but I think I know what I did wrong," she said and turned back to catch the next wave. Little One spun as she jumped, turning to face the beach and spread her arms to ride the crest like a porpoise. The wave carried her almost to the sand and left her kneeling in the water, grinning at Daddy.

"Do the waves ever get bigger?" she asked.

"Only in a storm. This is about as big as they get." Little One looked over her shoulder with a little disappointment on her face.

"I always wanted to try it on a real surfboard." Daddy sat in the water beside her. The water washed around his chest as Little On put her arms around his neck and straddled his lap.

"If you want to really surf, we can go to California or Hawaii, even Australia. The waves there are big enough."

"Could we, really?" Little One's shirt floated up around her neck, letting her press her breasts to his chest.

"We could go anywhere," Daddy replied, holding her as they were rocked by a small swell.

"Hawaii sounds nice. I saw an old movie that was set in Hawaii. It was about World War Two. A couple was lying in the sand, hugging and kissing while the waves washed around them. I thought it was so sexy and I couldn't sleep that night, thinking about making love in the surf." Little One wriggled closer, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"That movie was old when I was younger than you," Daddy said with a smile. "There are a lot of things in movies, which are not as much fun as they look." A pout came over Little One's face. She had been enjoying a fleeting thought of slipping out of her shorts and replaying the scene. "Is that one of them?" "I'm afraid it is."

The glare of the sun on the water made Little One squint and turn her head away. Daddy looked up and declared, "We need to get out of the sun." "But this fun," Little One moaned. "I know, but there's plenty of time later."

They gathered up Daddy's gear. Little One carried the fishing pole while Daddy handled the ice chest and trudged back to the house. The sand was hot now and stung her feet. She saw why Daddy wore his ragged canvas shoes.

There was a concrete pad at the base of the stairs and above it, fastened to the piling was shower head. There was a faucet with a short piece of green hose, closer to the ground. Daddy unsnapped his fly button and let his shorts fall to the ground. Little One looked up and down the beach, but there was no one else in sight. Daddy put his head under the spray, letting the water run through his hair and down his back. He ran his hand through the crease of his ass, rubbing vigorously with his fingers.

Little One felt a slight blush come over her face. She had seen him do this with a cloth many times, but outdoors and in the daylight, it seemed much more salacious.

Daddy stepped back and waited for her. Little One peeled off the wet shirt and slid her shorts down. She stepped under the spray and squealed. The shower was frigid compared to the Gulf water. She ran her fingers in her hair, feeling grains of sand against her scalp. After a full spin under the water, Daddy turned the spray off and she thought they were finished, but he twisted the faucet handle and water spit from the green hose.

"Spread you feet a little," he said, trying to suppress a smile. Little One's forehead wrinkled, feeling the cold water splatter at her feet. "The sand gets everywhere." Her mouth dropped open and she looked down between her thighs. Little One pulled a finger though her slit and felt course sand against the tender tissue. She pulled the lips apart and braced herself as he brought the hose closer. The cold water washed between her thighs, washing away the grit. Little One pushed a finger deep inside her vagina and sighed with relief.

"Sex on the beach sounds terrible, now," she said, as she bent down to wring water from her hair. "It tastes like cough syrup, too," Daddy answered with a smirk. "What?"

Daddy could not suppress his grin. "Never mind. Just another old movie."

Little One took the time to unpack the suitcases while Daddy made noise in the kitchen. She had last seen him stroke a long shiny knife across a steel and then head down the stairs to where he left the ice chest. This was one part of fishing she would prefer not to watch.

She looked over the suit bottoms in the drawer and picked up a white pair. The waist was just below her hip bones, but was cut full over the hips and came down to the crease of her thighs. The catalogue listed them as "boy shorts". Little One tugged at the crotch trying to make it lie flat across her mound, but the fabric perfectly defined her vulva. She wondered what sort of boy might wear these shorts, since there was barely room for her in them and certainly no room for boy parts.

The redfish sizzled as Daddy slid the filets into melted butter and put a lid on the skillet. He turned the flame down until only a faint ring of blue showed from the burner and turned to see Little One smiling at him. She stood in the door of the bedroom in a white cover up, tied at the waist, but open across her cleavage.

"Can we go swimming again, this afternoon," she asked. Daddy wiped his hands on a towel as his eyes studied her, starting at her feet and rising slowly. His sigh became an involuntary moan when she raised her shoulders to pull the thin fabric over her nipples.

"Maybe in the morning, if you get up early enough. I have plans for the evening." Little One tried not to look cross. What was the point of a beach house if one did not go to the beach?

"We won't have time after lunch?" Daddy smirked and motioned to her with one hand. "Look at your legs." Little One looked down to see a crisp red line across the front of her thighs where the sun had found uncovered skin. "Any more sun than you got this morning and you will look like a crawfish."