tagAnalB-Day Ch. 03

B-Day Ch. 03

byEmbers_X©

**FATHER NEEDED FOR CONSTIPATED DAUGHTER** - 18 (ww4m)



This is the second time I'm posting because I haven't found someone who is SERIOUS about this position. Now I'm pressed for time and need a sitter ASAP.

I am leaving on a business trip to Europe THIS WEEK and I need a man to watch over my 18 year old daughter.

My daughter is happy, healthy, sane and pretty, submissive, Jewish, and a virgin. Backdoor entry ONLY. 



This is a house call position. Well-endowed men preferred, older a must. Please be D&D free, can supply proper documentation at request. Must be able to administer regular enemas, as she has been struggling with a bout of constipation recently. SERIOUS REPLIES ONLY!

Location: Fire Island



do NOT contact me with unsolicited services or offers

------------------------

"Looks like we better get comfy, Abi," Evander said as he eased his foot on the gas pedal. "Wall-to-wall traffic up ahead."

As usual, he was unfathomably calm. If that man ever harbored any road rage, he kept it extremely well-hidden. The pressures of time just didn't seem to bother him they way they did me. 



Meanwhile, I was frazzled. There was a psychic toll that this agreement was beginning to take on me that clearly didn't affect him.



As much as I'd unexpectedly enjoyed last month's romp, I felt an emotional rawness in its wake that seemed to linger indefinitely. Now here I was, doing it to myself all over again in an even less-convenient scenario, miles from home.

I felt the car grind to a halt. My stomach gurgled. I couldn't seem to rationalize my feelings away. Part of me just wanted to get this trip over with, though I hated to admit it.



Today was supposed to be a day of sexual fulfillment for him. To color it with my anxiety would be to ruin it, so I forced a smile and said, "That's fine. I think they'll understand if we're a little late, considering we don't exactly live close."


Evander nodded his head in a way that made me wonder if he could read my worried thoughts. He pressed his large ebony hand on my leg and squeezed playfully. My strained smile eased into something close to a real one, if only for a moment. He was always so soothing to be around.



For me, this day was also one of compromise, a subtextual apology for being unable to satisfy his desires. 



It's not that he hadn't shared in the effort of making this day happen. He handled most of the logistics, even more so than last time. But Evander had nothing to lose. Today was his day. We'd begun calling it is his B-Day.



What's a B-Day? Well, it started out being what you think it is; last month marked his turning 43 years old. But the "B" also ended up standing for something else: Booty. Bottom. Backside. Butt. Bum. Buns. Behind. Badonkadonk. You get the picture.

And to be even clearer: you can add "buggery" to that list. See, I learned that Evander isn't just an ass man. His aspirations run just a bit deeper.

You'd think me being a non-op trans gal, I'd be ripe for the taking. And it's reassuring to know that the darkened bulls-eye resting between my cheeks is truly the ultimate object of his desire, not just some substitute vagina.



But that's where I fell flat—his penis was still way too big to fit in my butt. Especially considering that last month felt a bit like a bust, the prospect of a B-Day "redux" seemed now a crucial measure to keep our relationship together.

It was the least I could do. He was paying my way through grad school, and letting me stay for free in his Harlem apartment. And all of this on a lifeguard's budget.



As the car idled, I checked my watch and gritted my teeth. 2:32 pm! It seemed likely we were going to be late. "Should I call and tell them we'll be there closer to five?" I asked, crushing my toes together.



Evander stared out the window and shook his head. "Don't bother, Abi. We left plenty early, so we did our part. The rest is in God's hands," he said in his low voice, patting my lap again. 



As usual, he was right. We'd done what we could. There was relief in letting go, of learning to accept. I think that was why it ended up being maddeningly hot to see him dominate Mariko. 



I couldn't lie. Twisted as it seemed, I did get a kick out of seeing that woman's face contort into a portrait of utter masochistic euphoria for those fleeting seconds she endured.

I wouldn't have been able to derive enjoyment from that sordid scene unless I first looked my fear in the eye. It was liberating to do so, even if the situation wasn't ideal. 

But nothing is ideal. Even a perfectionist like Evander knows that. And so we waited.



Finally there was movement. I closed my eyes and felt the car rock slowly as it inched forward in spurts. Eventually our pace increased to a reasonable cruise, and my stomach calmed as I realized the traffic was beginning to let up.

"See it?" Evander said, gently wresting me from my troubled inner world. I opened my eyes and saw the shimmering blue expanse of the bay open up around the highway.



"I do!" I said, finally smiling as I sat up in my seat. "Looks like we're close."



"Mm hmm. See, just have to be patient," Evander said with a smile, his full dark lips ajar to reveal his pearly teeth. "Fire Island. I've never been here before, have you?"

I shook my head. "No, me neither." I checked my watch again. "Looks like we'll be right on time," I said surprisedly, realizing that the traffic hadn't signified a death knell for punctuality after all. 


We caught the 3:30 ferry to Fire Island, giving us just enough leeway to arrive casually. The weather was superb, with brisk winds and warm, unobstructed sunlight.

I wore a white sunhat and shades, my striped dress flapping in the wind as I stood in the shade. Evander looked lovely as usual, standing by the handrail as the hot sun beat down on his dark skin. 



His white button-down and khaki pants covered his lithe swimmer's physique perfectly, offset by the folksy cob hat on his head—he's the only man I know who can rock a cob hat and make it look sexy. Then again, there aren't many men like him.

I pulled out my phone and cycled through the pictures of the girl Evander had selected. Her name was Jessi. Beyond my normal apprehension, I was a little wary.

This girl looked nothing like me, and it reignited my insecurities. I'd hoped I could cling to the notion that Evander merely wanted reasonable facsimile of me, one whom differed only in her anal abilities. 



Granted, me and Mariko didn't look too much alike—Burmese and Japanese women rarely do—but at least she was in the ballpark, and had a similar skin tone and build. On a purely functional level, I could at least blur my eyes swap her for myself. But this new girl—she just looked different.



Very different. She clearly wasn't going to remind him of me. With her wavy blonde hair and fair complexion, she was an entirely new conquest. And irrationally, that got under my skin a little bit.

I knew it was silly to feel this way. But at base, it wasn't about looks. It was about a desire to feel reassured. I knew that couldn't come, not yet. That big smile on my lover's face as we pulled into the dock shamed me into silence again.

I bottled up my feelings again and put my phone away, knowing it would be only a few moments before that blue-eyed little teen bitch in those photos was all over my beautiful man. 



Fire Island, with its sprawling oceanside and crisp fresh air, was a far cry from the stuffy streets of Harlem. Our GPS guided us to the house, which lead us away from the throngs of red-faced yuppies and up a particularly steep and slightly overgrown pathway.

"Looks like we just follow Porterdale Rd. all the way to the end," Evander said as he tucked his phone back into his pocket and dug his heels into the sand.

"Abi, did you see all those burnt-up folks back there? I bet you we're the only two people on this island that don't need sunscreen right now, haha," he said. I laughed knowingly.



After a good 10 minute walk, we turned a large knoll at the summit and found ourselves standing at the front gate. I cautiously scanned the area.



The house looked old, lightweight, and quaint, its bamboo walls nearly camouflaged by the foliage around it. Two tall trees provided a natural canopy, blocking the intense rays of the sun and casting the house in a dark green shadow.

This place felt altogether slightly secluded, with an ocean view that was loftier than most of the other houses in the remote area. The exterior was quite beautiful, with an immaculate lawn that curved around to a side patio.



Suddenly I heard bit of a commotion coming from the interior.

I tensed as the door swung open. Standing in the doorway was a thin middle-aged woman in a powder blue dress. She waved her arm, her pale face expressionless and stony. Her other hand clutched a glass of what looked like red wine.



"Evander R. Greene?" She said in a thick Long Island-y accent, the cadence of her voice immediately abrasive to my ears.



My lover took my hand in his and nodded. "Hello. Yes, that's me. And this is my girlfriend Abi."

The woman stood there just squinting at us rudely for a moment. I could hear the sound of a TV blaring loudly behind her. I could tell she was sizing us up. 



Evander was as cool as ever, staring right back at her with a casual grin on his face. Finally she eased her posture.

"Okay," she said, slowly nodding at him, then shooting me an ambiguous look. "Well, I'll go get Jessi. She'll be so happy to meet her new father."



"...New father?" I whispered to Evander, confused.



"Uh, dunno. Just roll with it, haha," he said, cupping my tiny hands in his. I felt safe next to him, but this woman bugged me out a bit. I tried to flash her a shy smile, but she simply glared at me and abruptly disappeared into her house, shouting "Jessi! Jessi! Your father's here!" with her piercing, sour voice.



"Really?...Father?!" I repeated to Evander incredulously. He merely raised his eyebrows and breathed deeply. "Like I said, Abi...just roll with it," he remarked. 



I knew from the slight edge in his tone that he wouldn't tolerate me whining about this. I shut up and stared at the pebbles on the ground.



I heard quick footsteps at a gallop's pace, and I lifted my head. And then our eyes met.

Only for a second, though. Her eyes were quickly pulled upwards to meet those of my towering lover. Once they met his, they stayed locked. 



The girl suddenly beamed, then ran to him, nearly knocking me out of the way as she wrapped her arms around him.



"Dad! Oh my god, I'm so glad you came!" she said with startlingly unaffected enthusiasm, drawing herself close to him. I felt jealousy rise inside of me just looking at her needy little fingers gripping my man, standing on her bare tip-toes to gaze into his eyes. 



I saw her mother quickly march up behind her, observing us. He looked at both of them with a twinkle in his dark eyes, then laughed. 



"Oh, I'm your dad?" he said, looking perversely amused. 



"Uh huh! Mom says you're gonna be my daddy for this weekend."



"Oh..." Evander said, furrowing his brow. The girl looked up at him cluelessly, seeming already smitten with him. Sensitive to her fragile energy, he softened his voice a bit and patted her head. 

"I suppose I am your dad, then. So you're Jessi, hm?"



"Uh huh!" Jessi said. I looked at her again, my critical nature kicking in big time as I scrutinized every inch of her.

Sure, she was cute in a way. But there was a gawkiness to her that made me question Evander's tastes. She was acned about her cheeks, and she was beyond pasty—I wondered if she ever stepped out of that house, or if she were some kind of vampire. 



She had rings around her eyes suggestive of someone who didn't sleep often. She was fairly tall, but her posture was swaybacked and awkward. Her long blonde hair was pulled up into a set of pigtails that looked silly on a girl her age.

Oh, and her age. I felt the strong urge to double-check about that; let's just say that looks alone didn't exactly fill me with confidence.



"Um. Can I see her birth certificate?" I asked her mother calmly. 



"Who are you?" the woman snapped at me quickly. I narrowed my eyes. 



"Abigail Khaing. I'm Evander's girlfriend," I said, trying my best to refrain from mentioning that I'd already been introduced. "And you are?"

The woman sniffled, then sipped from her glass, a trickle of red wine narrowly missing her lips and dripping down onto her dress. 



"Oh, God damn it!" she exclaimed haggardly, a grimace forming on her face. "Just come in, come in. Damn it, now I have to change my god damned dress," she said, storming back to the house and shoving the door wide open angrily.

I looked at Jessi and Evander, who were already kissing just inches away from me on the lawn. I paused, my nerves rattled by the sight. It seemed so dissonant to me. I wanted to yell at her, to rip her off of him...but I was paralyzed.

My heart started to race. This little blonde waif didn't deserve his embrace, but it wasn't my place to tell him that. 



"We should go in," I mumbled, informing them of the prompt this girl's mother had given in their lustful oblivion. I marched ahead, kicking up sand as I entered the house.



Looking around, I did have to admit—this place was rather gorgeous on the inside as well. It was spacious "bungaloft"-style house, with a high ceiling, folksy decor, and a perfect view of the ocean through the large windows. 



The only thing that ruined it was the flatscreen TV mounted to the living room wall, which was loudly broadcasting the Home Shopping Network.



I looked around, noticing that dozens of photos lined the walls in rows. What first struck me about them was that they were all solo portraits of Jessi. Beyond this, something about them unsettled me immediately. They seemed lonely and unnatural.

In one picture, she stood alone in the backyard in a frilly pink dress, posed and smiling in a forced-looking way. 



In another, she stood alone in front of a supermarket holding an umbrella, with that same unconvincing arch of her lips. The picture of her I'd been eyeing on my cell phone earlier, I realized, had a similar air. She didn't look unhappy so much as vacant and wooden.



The most recent-looking picture was one of her standing alone on the front porch. In this image, she wore the signature mortarboard and blue gown of a graduating student. And yet again, that same creepy smile remained, her bow-shaped lips bending upward as the rest of her face remained weirdly expressionless.

The ear-to-ear grin on the brat's face as she came through the front door with my lover, however, was a far cry from the plastic expressions on those photos. 



Finally my lover and his new "daughter" came through the front door, hand in hand. I still felt his warmth on my own palm and suddenly missed it greatly. He seemed to have such an uncanny ability to captivate women that it almost seemed unfair.



The mother came back into the room with an alternate dress on of the same essential fit and color, looking to have regained her composure.

"Eh, sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just frazzled, is all. The past few days have been hectic, what with my getting ready to leave, and Jessi's graduation..."




"Graduation?" I asked.



The woman looked over at me, her face finally displaying a modicum of softness. "Oh, I'm sorry—Abu something? Abu Ching?"



I thought to myself: What the hell? This ignorant bitch can't even get my name right?

 "Abigail. Abigail Khaing," I repeated with a sharpness to my voice that made her visibly tense. I took off my sunglasses for effect.



"Oh," she said, pouring herself another glass of wine at the kitchen and then returning to us slowly.

"Well I'm Maybel Rorschenberg. And of course you've met my daughter, Jessi..."



"Actually I haven't really met her, I've just seen her dash up to my boyfriend to play lip hockey," I said, finding it impossible to completely contain myself. "Maybe you'd like to formally introduce us?"



Maybel grunted, downing half her glass in one gulp, and then walked over to her daughter and tugged her away from Evander for a moment.

"Okay. This is my daughter Jessi. And yes, the big news is that she graduated just last Thursday," she said with a smidgen of pride in her voice, patting the girl on the shoulders.

"Jessi, say hi to, um, Abigail."



"Hi, big sis!" Jessi said, stuffing her hands in the back pockets of her shorts and bouncing on the balls of her feet goofily. I paused.

"Um. I'm not your sister, Jessi," I said, looking at her hard as I gripped the sides of my dress unconsciously.



"Aww, you don't want to be my big sis, Abigail? You can be my Chinese sister, and he can be my Black daddy," she said with a chuckle. I bristled. 



"I am not Chinese," I said, ready to punch both her and her mom in the face. "And I am NOT your sister."



Jessi looked sufficiently intimidated and took a few steps back, almost hiding behind her mother.



"Oh...okay Abigail. I'm sorry..." she said with a real innocence in her voice that strangely made me feel a bit guilty. I backed off, taking a seat on a nearby wicker chair with my back to everyone else.

"Well congratulations on graduating, Jessi," I said as tonelessly as possible, crossing my legs and taking a wearily deep breath.



"Oh...thank you, Abigail..." I heard her mumble in the distance. I stared out the big window, trying to immerse myself in the beauty of the shoreline view. Evander came over and ran his fingers through my hair consolingly. 



"Hm. Here are her papers," Maybel said, throwing Jessi's birth certificate and passport on the glass coffee table next to me.

I looked at them out of the corner of my eye, mentally verifying their validity: Jessi Rorschenberg, daughter of David and Maybel Rorschenberg. Date of birth was 18 years ago as of last month. A Virgo, to boot. Ugh.

Her washed-out photo ID was definitely her, too. I almost didn't want to believe it; I was looking for a way out. But I couldn't argue with the evidence. I nodded silently.



"Well miss, in the spirit of safety, I have my blood test on hand, if you need it," Evander said.



"No need for that. I figure if Jessi catches an STD, maybe that'll teach her to stop being such a little whore," Maybel said loudly. I could hear her daughter shudder behind me.

"She's been getting into a bit of trouble lately in that department," the woman added. "Thankfully, I have a disciplinary measure that works wonders. Which reminds me, I should share it with you two, just in case she starts to act out."



"NO!" Jessi shouted, suddenly whipping her body out of her mother's grasp and running back to Evander. She fell to her scrawny knees and clutched his calves tightly, whimpering.

I felt vaguely nauseated. What the hell are getting ourselves into? I'm all for being openminded, but this was already getting out of hand.



"Yes, yes, dearie. You remember what happens if you misbehave while I'm gone, right? The same thing that happened to you last week when I caught you looking at pornography on my computer."



"NO! I told you I'm sorry, mom! I told you, it was an accident!" Jessi yelled, her voice cracking into a squeal.

"Nonsense, Jessi. Now you're lying on top of that? You never learn, do you. Tell your new father what happens when you misbehave," Maybel said, reaching for the TV remote and mercifully muting the volume.

Jessi looked up at both of us, her big blue eyes turning moist and reddening around the edges. "I don't wanna..." she murmured, holding Evander's leg so desperately now that I could see even he was becoming slightly uncomfortable.

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