Idiot's Guide to Your First Love Ch. 02

Inside, we approached the maître d'.

"How may I help you?" he asked.

"Yes, we have a reservation," I responded, "Gideon Michaels?"

The man looked at the reservation list.

"Right this way, please."

He led us to an empty table and held the chair for me. I sat, and he passed out three menus.

"The other member of your party has yet to arrive," he said, "Can I get your drink order while you wait?"

I order water. Daniel ordered a domestic beer. I looked at him a little strangely. Of all the places to get a local beer, a fancy Italian restaurant was not one of them.

I looked at my phone. It was only five minutes past seven, but Dad was never late. I started tapping my fingers on the table in anticipation. I was nervous to see him. I also was apprehensive thinking about how he'd react when he saw me. I was blonde, now, and I was dressing differently, more provocatively. But I was most worried about his reaction when he saw Daniel. I had only invited him to annoy my dad. I immediately regretted the decision as soon as the words left my mouth. Daniel took it to mean we were getting serious. I could see it on his face.

Daniel's hand covered my fidgeting one.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I smiled, "Just nervous. Dad and I have a—strained relationship. I haven't seen him in a while."

Daniel leaned in for a kiss just as the maître d' approached the table with my father.

"Here you are, sir," the maître d' said. "Enjoy your meal."

I looked at my dad. His gaze never leaving my face as he sat down.

"Er... uh. Hi, sir," Daniel awkwardly said. "I don't know if you remember me, but I'm Daniel."

Only then did my father acknowledge the other person at the table. His eyes slowly grazed over Daniel's face, ignoring the hand that was held out in his introduction.

"I thought I told you to stay away from my daughter." It was not a question.

"Dad!"

The waitress appeared at the table with our waters and Daniel's beer. She asked what Dad would like to drink. He looked at me and ordered a bottle of the same wine we had during Christmas break, only looking away, and at the menu, once she left.

I didn't know what to say. A few minutes passed, made to seem longer by the awkwardness. I saw Daniel gulp down his beer. I felt terrible for him. I shouldn't have brought him into this.

"That was rude, Dad. You should apologize."

He looked up at me with a mocking smile.

"No."

"You can't act like this any time I have a boyfriend, Dad."

His gaze narrowed.

"We've had this discussion. You need to stay focused on school, not get caught up in some boy."

The waitress came back with the wine.

"Are we ready to order?"

My dad and I said rebuff at the same time that Daniel said his assent. My dad glared at Daniel.

"Can I get another beer?" he said.

The waitress nodded and, clearly aware of the tension at the table, left.

Dad poured wine into two of the wine glasses that were already on the table. He put one back in front of me, and he took one for himself. I did not say any thanks or move to take a drink — one of Dad's eyebrows raised as he took a sip from his glass. I crossed my arms.

We sat in silence until the waitress came back with Daniel's drink. She tentatively asked if we were ready to order again. This time, Daniel wisely kept quiet.

"Yes," Dad said, before ordering for himself, and then me.

I fumed. We all sat in silence -- my dad and I challenged each other with our eyes -- until the food arrived. I don't even remember Daniel saying his order, but he must have because it came, along with another beer and during the meal, he ordered two more.

I refused to touch the food Dad had ordered. He was only trying to claim ownership of me in front of Daniel. I would not allow it.

"How is school?" my dad asked.

"Fine."

"And the apartment?"

"Fine."

"Kyla?"

"Fine."

"The job?"

"Fine."

"Really?" He said, amusement lilting his voice. "Because I was under the impression you quit."

"That's why it's fine," I said, obstinately.

"Well, if that is your definition of fine, I worry that maybe your studies are also suffering."

I sighed heavily.

"When have my grades ever suffered, Dad?"

"You've never had a boyfriend, before."

"My grades are fine."

"So you say."

I stood abruptly.

"Enough! This was clearly a mistake." I grabbed the shawl from off the back of my chair. "Daniel, we're leaving."

"Thank god," he mumbled.

My dad's eyes widened as he took in my full appearance. The table had hidden most of my dress, and now he saw just how short it was. I grabbed Daniel's hand a pulled him to the door, him stumbling a little behind me. Once outside, I turned to Daniel. For the first time, I realized just how much he had to drink, on very little food. He hadn't finished his meal, but he had finished his fifth beer just before I said we were leaving. He wasn't sloppy, but he wasn't hard to tell he was intoxicated.

"Do you have the valet ticket?" I asked, irritated.

He was patting himself down in search of it when my father came out of the restaurant, face filled with rage. He walked straight up to me and pulled on my arm.

"What are you doing?" I demanded as I tried resisting him. His hand was a vice grip.

"I'm taking you home."

"I'm going home with Daniel."

"Like hell you are!"

He had managed to drag me halfway to the parking garage entrance.

"Hey!" yelled Daniel. "Let her go!"

"Mind your fucking business," Dad said, threateningly.

Blessed Daniel. Blessed, stupid man. He ran to cut off my dad.

"Stop. She doesn't want to go with you."

Dad laughed humorlessly.

"Oh, and what? I should just let her go home with you?" he asked, rhetorically. "So you can fuck her and treat her like your whore?"

"Dad!"

Daniel gazed at him with an open mouth.

"What?!" Dad demanded, "Look at what you did to your hair! Look at the way you are dressed!" He leaned toward me, still holding my arm. He spoke in a low, deep voice "Or is that what you want? Is that why you're dressed like a slut? Because you want to be treated like one. Do you want to be used? Do you want to be fucked?"

His words hit me like stones. Each one was more painful than the last. Tears poured from my eyes.

Daniel pulled on my father.

"You can't talk to her like that!"

My dad let me go. Except, it wasn't because he finally came to his senses. No, he released me so he could punch Daniel. In one hit the poor boy fell to the ground. I ran and knelt next to my unconscious date.

I glared up at my father, tears still falling, and said, "Go. Just go away."

I think that was when he finally realized his mistake. He looked like he wanted to say something, but instead turned to talk to the valets who had watched this entire scene unfold. I tried to wake Daniel up, to no avail. A few minutes later, my car pulled up next to us, and a valet got out. He and my dad walked over to us and bent down to pick up Daniel. I let them put him in the backseat, before climbing into the driver's seat.

My dad stopped the door from closing. He bent down and gave me a gentle kiss on the lips, lasting a few seconds.

"I'm sorry. Please, forgive me," he said, before pulling back and closing the door for me.

*****

Daniel woke up during the drive back to my apartment. I let him spend the night, to keep an eye on him. I broke up with him the next morning. He was upset, but I don't think he blamed me.

My dad called me every day for a week. I didn't answer. I was still very hurt by his words, but I was mostly confused. He sent me away. Acted like he doesn't want me, but then treated me like his possession when another guy is in the picture.

And that kiss. It wasn't passionate, by any means, but it wasn't fatherly, either. He also did in public—in front of people. Granted, they were strangers, and we probably will never see then again, but still, it was a considerable risk.

After that week, I decided to confront my father. It was the only option. The idea of trying to catch him at home bothered me. Who knows how long that would take? I'm not sure if he would agree to meet me any place that wasn't public. The only solution was to confront him at work.

I had never been there before. I wasn't even sure I would be let in. They had to know who I was, though, right? They'd let his daughter in to see him. They had to.

I'm not sure what possessed me as I got ready that day. With the way he reacted when he saw the dress I was wearing on my birthday, I should have tried to dress more conservatively. Instead, I wore a tight, brown mini skirt, a beige, off-the-shoulder, bohemian-styled mid-drift top, and strappy, gold heels. With my flat stomach on display, and my ass nearly hanging out, I strutted into my father's office building and up to the receptionist.

"My name is Lilith. I'm here to see Gideon Michaels," I said in a tone that denoted I should be here.

She typed on her computer for a few moments.

"Lilith, was it? Your name is on his approved visitors. Tenth floor. Elevators are over there." My eyes followed where she was pointing.

"Thanks."

I rode the elevator to the tenth floor. It wasn't a skyscraper; the tenth floor was near the top. During the ride up, I imagined how the scene might play out. Would my dad kick me out, immediately? Would he start yelling again about my outfit?

The elevator dinged letting me know that I made my destination. I walked into a large room with a lot of cubicles.

What if he had a cubicle? I thought. I didn't even know if he had his own office. I dismissed that thought.

Of course, he had his own office. He made top figures here. They wouldn't put someone like that in a cubicle.

I walked forward, not knowing where I was going. A middle-aged man came out from behind a cubicle wall. His eyes widened when he saw me, and he scurried over to me.

"Hi, there, sweetheart," he said, eying me up and down. I felt gross. "You lost?"

"Uh, I'm looking for Gideon Michaels' office."

"Come on. I'll take you there." He put his arm around me and rested his hand in the middle of my back.

He led me to an office in the back. The door was closed, and no windows were looking in.

"There you are, little lady. Let me know if you need anything."

Once he walked away, I knocked on the door.

"Come in."

With a deep breath, I turned the door handle and entered his office.

"Lily!" he said in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

I shut the door and turned around. My dad eyed the exit like he wanted to make a break for it.

"I think we should talk."

His eyes flashed from me to the door and back again.

"I agree, but now is not a good time. I tried calling."

"I know."

"We could have talked then."

I sat down in a chair in front of his desk and crossed one leg over the other. He watched each of my movements.

"This isn't an over-the-phone kind of conversation," I replied.

He looked at the door again.

"Expecting someone?" I asked.

He ran his hand through his hair.

"Uh, no."

"Then why do you keep looking at the door?"

He looked at me intensely.

"Because it's closed."

"Why is that important?" I asked.

"Because I don't—" He left his sentence hanging.

"Because you don't...?"

Again, his fingers made their way through his hair.

"I—I don't trust myself."

My heart was beating wildly. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? I decided to take a chance.

I stood and slowly walked back to the door. I heard my dad curse under his breath. I reached the door just as I heard him stand. His office wasn't huge, so he was on the other side of his desk and next to me in a matter of seconds. He softly touched my arm.

"Don't go."

I turned my head to him and smiled.

"I'm not." With that, I locked his office door, maintaining eye contact with him.

At the sound of the click, I heard his breath catch. That's all it took, and he had me pinned against his door. He kissed me as if his life depended on my lips. I kissed him back because my life did depend on his. He groaned when his hands touched the bare skin of my waist as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his body. My hands snaked in his hair to pull him deeper against me.

This was how we were supposed to be. We were made for each other, and there was no way he could deny that anymore. My body came alive when he was near like he was its master. His body melded into mine perfectly.

A whimper escaped me when he bit my lip.

Slowly, he pulled his lips away from me, though he did not entirely pull away, keeping me in his arms. He rested his forehead against mine.

His voice was raw with lust, "We shouldn't be doing this."

"Why," I asked.

Logically, I knew the answer. Everything else in my being screamed its protest.

He groaned and closed his eyes.

"Because I'm your father."

I put my hand on his cheek, and he looked at me.

"I want it," I said. "I want you, Daddy."

His eyes flashed, and he kissed me again, just as passionately. I don't know how long we kissed. I only know that we were interrupted by his office intercom buzzing.

"Mr. Michaels?" said the voice, coming through the speaker.

My dad gave me a look I couldn't decipher, before walking over to his desk and picking up the receiver.

"Yeah?" he said gruffly. He paused for a few moments. "Tell him I'm not taking calls right now. I'm in a meeting. And cancel my afternoon appointment." He slammed the phone down.

He didn't come back over to me, and I was able to get a good look at him. His dress slacks were significantly looser than the jeans he had worn the last time, and I could plainly see his erection as he crossed his arms and leaned against the back of his desk, giving me a cautious look.

"I should get her a 'thank you' card. She's a great assistant," he said casually. "I shouldn't have talked to her like that."

Choosing not to respond, I leaned back against the door and rested my palms on each thigh.

"You look...nice."

"You think?" I asked, "I don't look like a slut?"

He sighed, giving me an apologetic look.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I was just—"

"You know, you were right," I said.

"What? No, no, I wasn't," he said quickly. "You did not look like a... you didn't look like that. I was acting like a jealous fool."

"Oh, not about that, Daddy," I said with a smirk.

He clicked his tongue.

"It drives me crazy every time you say that."

"Say what, Daddy?"

"Lilith..." he warned.

"No... you were right about the other part," I said. I began moving my hands up my thighs, slowly, taking the hem of my skirt with it. "You were right about me wanting to be fucked." My skirt inched just a little higher. "I do want to be fucked." Dad was glued to my rising skirt. "I want to be used, Daddy."

"You need to stop, Lilith." He spoke as if he struggled with each word.

"But you were wrong about who," I said, ignoring him. I stopped the hem just below the mound of my pussy. "Do you want to know who I want to fuck me, Daddy?"

I left the question hang there as I dipped my finger under my skirt, revealing nothing below it, and felt my wetness. He licked his lips, running his hands through his hair again, eyes never looking away from my hands.

"Do you remember that day you smelled my pussy on my fingers?"

His eyes jumped to mine in shock.

"I had just finished fucking myself with my fingers when you knocked."

"You knew?"

I nodded, "Oh, yes. You see, I had just come back from downstairs where I had seen you make yourself come and I was so aroused I had to do something about it."

I had never before seen my father look that astonished.

"Do you want to know who I want to fuck me?" I repeated.

"Yes," was his gravelly response.

"I want you to fuck me, Daddy."

He was over to me in a flash, kissing me. He pulled my hands away from my pussy and lifted both of my arms above my head. He held both my wrists in one hand, pinning them against the door. I half-heartedly tried moving my hands, his grip was firm, but I didn't want to escape. Even if I had, I'm not sure I could have. His other hand traveled along my body. He pulled the stretchy fabric of my top down revealing my breasts, having again opted out of a bra. His mouth lowered to my neck, trailing kisses down my cheek and chin along the way. His hand squeezed my breast.

No one had touched my bare breast before. The idea that it was my father who was doing it for the first time made my pussy throb. A moan escaped me as he bit my neck and pinched my nipple simultaneously. He released my arms, and I rested them on his shoulders. He lowered both his hands to my panty waistline and played with the fabric as his mouth went to my right breast, taking in my nipple and sucking hard. I moaned loudly, and his hand immediately clasped over my mouth to quiet me.

His fingers laced underneath the elastic of my panties and in one fluid motion, he was kneeling in front of my exposed pussy, leaving my hands with nothing to hold. Tentatively, he reached up and rubbed his thumb across my nub, as he looked up into my eyes. It was a question.

"Please, Daddy."

He hesitated only for a second before leaning forward and licking my clit. My imagination was nothing compared to how it felt. Maybe it was because it was so forbidden, or perhaps it does feel that good, but the moan that expelled from my chest was so loud that it startled even me.

My father shushed me with a laugh. He pulled my underwear down further and tapped my leg indicating for me to lift it. I obeyed with both legs. He stood with my panties in his hand, crumpling it into a ball. He gave me a swift kiss.

"This is for your own good," He whispered. "If you can't be quiet, I can't finish."

He brought my panties to my mouth. I could smell my pussy juices on them.

"Open," he commanded.

I opened my mouth, and he gently filled it with my panties.

"Good girl," he said with a peck on the cheek.

He knelt again and looked up at me.

"Fuck. You look incredible like this," he groaned.

I looked down at myself. My tits were still hanging out, my top tucked underneath them. My skirt was up at my waist, exposing my trimmed pussy. With my panties in my mouth, I imagine I did look like a whore. My Daddy's whore, I thought. That nearly brought me to my knees. Dad grazed his fingertips across my pubic hair, and I was suddenly embarrassed. I didn't shave entirely but kept a landing strip, a "throw rug" as I liked to call it. I knew some men wanted a bare pussy and thought pubic hair was gross. Was he one of them?

His hand snaked around my leg to the back of my calf. He lifted my right leg over his left shoulder, opening me up to him. Both his hands went behind me and held firm to my ass. I closed my eyes, still somewhat embarrassed. I felt his breath at my opening before I felt his mouth. His tongue moved from as far between my legs as it could reach up to my clit, stretching across my pussy opening. He took my clit into his mouth, sucking gently and flicking the tip with his tongue.

My muffled moans couldn't even come close to expressing how good it felt. Lost in the feeling of his mouth on my most private of parts, I failed to notice one of his hands had moved from my butt until he had inserted one of his fingers into my pussy. I felt my pussy clench at the intrusion, and my legs shuddered. I thought I was going to lose my balance. Dad must have sensed that, because he took his finger out, and without moving his mouth away from me, lifted my other leg over his other shoulder, removing the hand that had still been on my ass and placing his arm across my belly to hold me against the door. My hands tangled themselves in his hair.