Darling Nikki Ch. 09

Chapter Nine: Nikki

My Dearest Daddy,

When I was fifteen, I think, Chelsea mentioned something about needing to write in her journal. Bryce laughed and told her that "journal" was ancient Latin for "evidence." We all had a good laugh, but that kinda stuck with me. I've never kept a diary or a journal, I don't spill my secrets or air my dirty laundry on social media, or anywhere really. I don't leave a permanent record outside of the stuff I have to do for school.

Which is why THIS is odd. But there are things I HAVE to say. Things I desperately want to say to you, but can't ever actually SAY. Which is why I'm writing you this letter. Which I'm going to burn without giving to you. Maybe the simple act of writing all this down will let me get some kind of order to my jumbled head.

Where exactly to start? I know, I know, start at the beginning, work through the middle, then go to the end. Smartass. That's one of the things I love about you, Daddy. You're a smartass, but in a good way.

Sorry. I'll try not to ramble.

I saw something tonight when I got home that really shook me. It upset me, and really rocked my foundations. I'll get to that. Right now I've gotta go back to where all this started.

It was one of the last times Momma and I ever got to talk. It was about three days before she died. Damnit I hate thinking about this. Time heals all wounds? I fucking hope so. I'm so ready to move past the pain. Get to the point where I have fond memories of Momma, not the gaping wound of her death.

Fuck it all.

Anyway, she asked me to come talk to her. You were out getting groceries and none of the girls were over. Her pain meds hadn't really kicked in and she was mostly lucid, but still a bit ramble-y. She spent a lot of time talking about the two of you, how much she loved you. She told me all about you working up the courage to ask her out that first time; the butterflies in her stomach when she was sure you were going to propose but scared you wouldn't; the worry and terror she felt when you were deployed to Iraq; how relieved she was when you made it home safe, sound, sane, and unwounded. She was so proud of you, Daddy. You were always her hero. The commendations you earned as a Marine just showed the rest of the world what she already knew.

I know the moment her pain meds really took effect because she started talking to me about y'all's sex life. How much pleasure you gave her, how much she gave you. She told me AAAAAAAAAAAAAALL about your 'magnificent cock,' and how she always felt a little guilty that she was the only one who'd ever had it. But not guilty enough to actually share you. Heh

It was pretty uncomfortable for me in a lot of ways. A girl shouldn't have to listen to her Momma go on and on about how much she loved swallowing your cum and how she loved riding your face, how good it felt every time you slid your dick into her. In another way, though, it was pretty awesome. I learned a lot about you that day, not so much from what Momma said, but how clearly happy she was with you. She talked about all the little romantic things you do for her, like bringing her a bunch of roses 'cause it was Tuesday, or slipping a new necklace on her when she slept. Opening her door for her and holding her chair. "The last of the true gentlemen," she said. I've seen that much myself. You really are.

At one point her eyes popped open wide and all the blood drained from her face. I thought it was the cancer causing it, until she said, "Shit! I shouldn't have been talking about your father like that to you. I'm so sorry, honey."

I hugged her and told her it was alright. I didn't mind letting her talk; I always love talking to her. She got to feeling a little better, I guess, and got over being embarrassed, 'cause she said, "Well, the cat's out of the bag, honey. I'm not going to pretend I didn't lose my mind for a minute and didn't say all that to you. So I want you to make me two promises. First, though we don't talk about it much, I'm not going to last much longer. I'm going to die soon." I started crying at that. She wiped my tears and pulled me in for another hug. "It's ok, baby. Shitty things happen to good people. I'm going to die soon. You have such a good life ahead of you. You're so smart, and kind, and beautiful, and wonderful, that your life is going to be absolutely spectacular. So the first promise I want from you is that you won't let what's happening to me screw up your life. Don't let my death derail you from being amazing. From being happy. Ok? Can you promise me that?"

"Yes, Momma." What else was I going to say?

She kissed my cheek and said, "The second promise is going to be a lot harder. By all rights it's a promise I have no business asking you to make. But as much as I love you, I love your Dad just as much. And when I die it's going to all but kill him. He's going to be so messed up! I know him well enough to know that he'll be content with living with my memory for the rest of his life. And that's not fair to him. Just like you, he deserves to live and be happy. So the second promise is that I need you to make sure he does. It'll never occur to him that it'll be ok someday for him to go out and find someone else. Let himself be happy. He'll be content to be a widower forever. But I don't want that for him. I want him to love again, I want him to have fun again, to party and laugh and fuck. Don't let him be stupid, but I need you to promise me that you'll make sure he doesn't turn into a monk or hermit and let himself wither away. And I DAMNED sure don't want him to let that fine cock waste away and not share it with anyone else. So you promise me Nicholette Freya Crowley, that you'll do whatever you have to do, and I mean WHATEVER you have to do, to make sure one day he remembers he's a man while he's still young enough to enjoy being one. You hear me?"

"I promise, Momma. I don't know how I can do that, but I promise you I will."

"It doesn't matter how, baby. I know you'll think of something. And you have my blessing to take ANY and ALL steps you need to. Don't let your Dad die with me, baby. Make him happy." She was quiet a minute, hugging me again, and she kissed my other cheek, her lips paper-dry, but I relished that kiss. I knew there weren't many more she could give me. "And one last promise, my darling Nikki. Promise you'll let YOURSELF be happy, too."

"I don't know how I'll be able to, Momma, but I promise that, too."

Damn it. Writing all that down sucked gigantic elephant dick! I don't ever want to do that again. I mean, I told you a little about what she said and made me promise already, but it's so hard, Daddy, to write this out. I miss her so much.

And I missed you for so long. That day you were in the bathtub and I let you have it because you were being stupid? I think I explained it all then. But I have to get all this down, to help myself sort everything out. And I'm getting ahead of myself.

Where was I?

So yeah, that was one of the last conversations I ever had with her. When she died it messed me up so bad! But it messed you up even worse. I was so terrified that something would happen to you, too, and I'd be all alone. That thought still terrifies me. You spent weeks on the couch; I know you went into your room to get clean clothes and bathe and stuff, but I also know you spent as little time as humanly possible in there. I never went into your room. I couldn't bear the sight of Momma not being there.

You lost so much weight the first month after the funeral. I was already worried that you'd get sick, too, and then you stopped eating and I got a little crazy. I didn't know how to talk to you about my fears, and how worried about you I was. Hell, I still don't really know how to talk to you about the important shit. Hence this letter. Which I'll never send. I'm so messed up.

But the girls got me through that first month. The girls and you. As sick with worry about you as I was, you kept me from going insane over Momma being gone. And the girls kept me from going insane over worrying about you.

I think that's when Chelsea first started crushing on you. Or maybe that was when she first realized it. We could all see you wasting away from sadness, and Chels was always the most romantic of us. Seeing you like that just touched that Mallory-inspired Courtly Love stuff that almost all girls have buried inside. Pining away for your dead wife? So romantic! It just reaches down and presses all KINDS of buttons in us. And Chelsea's "romance" button has always been the biggest of all of us. I think that's why she's going for the whole psychologist thing...she's trying to hide that she's just a big old girly-girl. I love giving her shit about it. I was too worried about you to see the romance in it. Then.

The next couple of years were so rough, Daddy. Especially when you made me go back to school. I was so MAD at you! Fucking FURIOUS! But even as I was screaming at you and saying all those nasty things I said, I knew you were right. And I realize now that one of the reasons I was so pissed off is because being with you all day, every day, was so wonderful even as miserable as we were, and I didn't want to give that up. Not being able to spend 24 hours a day with you? The thought was torture. I still can't BELIEVE that you told me my choice was I could go back to school or run away. What the hell was wrong with you?

I know, I know, it was for my own good. And you were right. But still. Pissed me OFF!

I treasured every night that you put me to sleep, laying on my bed next to me. If it weren't for those nights, I don't know what I would have done. The first week or so after we buried Momma, before I dragged you up to my room to lay down with me, I cut myself a few times to deal with the pain. Didn't need to do that after you started tucking me in. After Momma went away, you were all I needed to be ok. Even though you weren't eating, and you were drinking too much.

I don't think that, even now, you realize how much you mean to me. I love the girls with all my heart, but if you and I were to wind up on an uncharted isle somewhere, and we were effectively the only two people in existence, I'd be happy. You're not my ENTIRE world, but you ARE the center of it. You always will be.

Anyway, the next couple of years sucked. Seeing you all empty and dead inside. It killed me. And I didn't know what to do to help you. I mean, you worked for Aunt Dana and kept yourself mostly in shape, and you kept the house clean and did the yardwork and stuff, but I know you were just going through the motions. I watched you a lot. Still do. And back then, the only time I ever saw life in your eyes is when we talked or went on one of our surprise road trips, or whatever. When WE were together, you were a little bit alive again. But when I saw you on your own, your eyes were dead. It hurt me so much every time I saw that.

What Momma said to me and made me promise was always in the back of my mind. I kept waiting for you to come alive again, and realize it was ok to move on with your life. You helped ME do that. The girls helped too, of course, but it was mostly you. You were always there, always my inspiration and cheerleader, always pushing me to be young and carefree and have fun. But you couldn't do the same for yourself. Momma was absolutely right. You COULDN'T realize that it was ok for you to live, love, and be happy again. I knew I'd have to do something drastic. Just wasn't sure what.

Then one day, a few weeks before That Weekend, as you've taken to calling it, you'd been doing some yard work and Yelena, Regina, and I were hanging out at the house, and you came in all sweaty and glistening, muscles tight and rippling, and Yelena gave out kind of a little groan. I looked at her and saw her licking her lips, her eyes locked on you, and she started slowly wiggling in the seat. She leaned over to Regina and said, "God DAMN that man is sexy as fuck!" She said it really soft and I don't think she knew I heard her, or heard Regina mumble, "Fuck yes. I'd love to get me some of that."

That's when I got the idea. I spent the next week with all the girls at different times and steered the conversation to you. Sooner or later every one of them let me know how yummy they found you.

Chelsea had it bad for you. She had for a long time. Bryce wasn't far behind her. There's quite a bit behind that, but that's not my story to tell.

So I started working on Chels. Whenever we'd plan on hanging out at the house I'd suggest she wear skimpier clothing, or tighter clothing, trying to get her to catch your eye. She even asked me about it, so I told her straight up. "Daddy's lonely. He's still heartbroken. He doesn't even realize how bad off he is. I need to change that. He needs to get laid." I looked her straight in the eyes and asked, "How serious is your crush? Are you happy eyefucking my dad, or do want to really fuck him?"

Not missing even a single beat Chels said, "I want to be in his bed so badly I can taste it, Nikki." She shivered. "I want to taste HIM. And do lots of other stuff, too." She sighed. "It'll never happen, though."

"Why not?"

"Because he's still in love with your mom. No other woman really exists for him, yet. Maybe never."

"You let me worry about that, hon. He needs to realize it's ok to be a man again. Let me worry about the details, but if you really want him, we can make it happen. Are you in?"

She thought about that for a few minutes and finally said, "Yeah. If you can make it happen, I'm absolutely in. I can't go over to your house without getting wet just walking through the door just because I know he's there."

I gave her a kiss. By this point we'd all fooled around with each other, except Beth. She was too shy. But she loved watching. hehe Chelsea was actually the first girl I ever kissed. My first kiss period. Bryce was the first girl I ever went down on, but Chels was my first kiss. So I'd had lots of practice kissing her by then. The kiss led to more, of course. I mean, you were out at the store and I knew you'd be gone for a couple of hours, yet. So we had a wonderful time in my room. Hell, I even went and got one of your dirty shirts for her to snuggle with and sniff while I had my face between her legs.

Didn't think it was odd that we were having sex right after agreeing that she was going to fuck you. And I didn't think it was weird that I got wet when she agreed that she would. Not then. I didn't think it was weird until That Weekend when I realized

Nevermind. Getting ahead of myself again. Not by much. I'll get to it, though.

So anyway, yeah, I ate Chels to a couple of orgasms while she had your shirt wrapped around her face. She hadn't shaved in a couple of days and her pubic stubble was uncomfortable, but I didn't really care. I love her taste, and the way she writhes when I'm sucking on her clit and my fingers are playing with her G-spot. I had two fingers fucking myself, and her thighs were clamped around my head. Damn, I love making that girl cum. Unf. I could smell you on her when I kissed her after her orgasm. That was...titillating, let me tell you. Then I rode her face to an orgasm of my own. We took a quick shower, threw on our bikinis, and jumped in the pool about five minutes before you walked in the door.

And don't think I didn't notice you noticing how hot she looked in her bikini, mister! My heart skipped a beat when I saw that. FINALLY! At least some part of you was waking back up. About damned time! I made sure Chels "innocently" rubbed against you a couple of times, and I watched you get uncomfortable. Excellent. My plan was working.

So I arranged for all the girls to come over for a sleepover. And I told all of them what I had in mind. I wanted all of us to keep bringing you into the den and keep interacting with you. I did NOT want you to just hole up in your office and hide the entire night. Bryce was kind of pissed that Chelsea was going to get to have you, but hey, Chels had wanted you for longer, so it was only fair. Plus, if my plan worked the way I was hoping, Bryce would get her chance soon enough. I did NOT expect my plan to work as well as it did. I never knew just how much of a playboy stud you had hiding deep down inside that suit of shining armor you always wear.

It was so funny seeing how frustrated you were getting that first night. I knew how much you wanted to disappear, and we just weren't letting you! I suggested they start getting more enticing with what they were wearing, so buttons came undone, pants came off, whatever. Then Bryce told Chelsea she needed to "step this shit up. REALLY get his attention, or he's not going to make a move!" So Chelsea unbuttoned her shirt all the way.

When you chewed me out in your office, I figured I was really going to have to push things. So I told Chelsea she was going to have to take matters, and your cock, into her own hands. She was a little, um, hesitant at first. I mean, she's a good girl. A sweetheart. And she really cares about you. So she didn't exactly think that sneaking into your bedroom after you were asleep and forcing the issue was the best idea.

"Look, Chels, Daddy isn't going to do anything. He's not going to start anything. Y'all know him well enough to know that he's too much of a gentleman to even THINK about trying anything. So if you want him as bad as you say you do, you're going to have to not give him a choice."

She was looking pretty embarrassed by that point. But I knew she'd go for it. She was too wet for you to NOT take a chance. And Yelena sealed your fate when she said, "If you don't go jump him tonight, Chelsea, I'M going to."

It wasn't too long after that you rushed past us saying "Goodnight, girls," and hurried up the stairs. We were careful to keep the noise down; we wanted you to just go to bed and fall into a horny, frustrated sleep. All the easier to eat you with, my dear!

It was maybe 20 minutes later and we were all still talking quietly. Bryce suddenly said, "Hey Chels?" After Chelsea asked her what she needed, Bryce said, "Are you REALLY going to try and fuck Mr. Crowley tonight?"

It was so cute -- and kind of sexy -- seeing Chelsea blush the way she did. Her eyes were huge, and her mouth was open just a little bit. Finally she nodded and said, "Yeah. I want him too much to not take the chance."

Bryce grabbed Chelsea and kissed her. Hard. Then she sat back and slid a hand into her panties, mumbling, "This is so fucking hot." The she looked at me and asked, "How long do you think she has to wait?"

I shrugged. "I think an hour to be sure he's asleep."

Bryce nodded, leaned her head back, and just kept rubbing herself. That sort of kicked everybody else off. Hands dipped into panties, tongues slipped into mouths, tops came off and nipples were sucked. I was really wishing you'd come back downstairs and catch us with my tongue in Chelsea's mouth, my hand in her pants, and Yelena's tongue in my ass. Svetlana and Regina were in a surprisingly quiet 69, Bryce and Beth were both masturbating, watching us all. God I wanted you to come downstairs and see all of us getting off! Little did I know that you'd get to see something similar the following night.

I don't know you how managed to get to sleep with us having our impromptu orgy downstairs, but it was closer to two hours before we'd wound down enough to note the time. I looked over at Chelsea and asked, "Do you still want to do this?" She nodded, eagerly. We stood and I took her by the hand and we crept up the stairs, carefully avoiding the noisy spot on that one stair. I got her to your door, Daddy, and opened it quietly. We looked in and saw you laying there on your back, the sheet covering you from the waist down, but it couldn't hide that you were aroused. I glanced at Chelsea and saw her blushing furiously and licking her lips.