Of Course, Daddy Ch. 02

For the most part, she simply tried the outfits on, but in the last store she found several that she absolutely needed. Wearing one of them (a strapless yellow sundress), she positively beamed as she approached the counter to loudly announce:

"My boyfriend's buying these for me."

I did my best to shrug off the cashier's sudden scowl. It's not my fault, I wanted to protest. I knew what they all thought, seeing someone my age with a girl barely into adulthood. If only they knew how little say I had.

As he rang up my card, I tried to figure out how I could possibly fit this trip into our budget. Maybe I could convince Emily to eat in for the rest of the month, and put off any major purchases a little while longer, and hopefully nothing would break in the meantime. The cost of the overpriced boutique outfits wasn't quite ruinous, but it sure as hell was a major strain. If I had my way, I'd have said no in a heartbeat, and so would Emily.

Emily wasn't here, unfortunately, and I was in no position to say refuse Catherine anything.

The dress suited her well, more than I wanted to admit. As we walked to lunch, I found my eyes constantly straying back and forth to sneak a quick look at her. Was that an order? Maybe? I couldn't remember. It felt like I had to, but seemed far too enjoyable to be compulsory. This close, I had a fantastic view down the front of her dress, and I found her cleavage utterly fascinating.

Catherine was having a good time, practically skipping down the street as she clung tight to my hand. As if she were afraid to lose it at any moment. I didn't try to pull away, and after a while stopped thinking about it. What was more natural, after all, than walking hand in hand with a pretty girl?

She was that. Whatever else you could say, Catherine was a very pretty girl.

The cafe Catherine wanted was right near the park entrance. One of those trendy places served up the same food as everywhere else, but charged twice as much for it. They were crowded, but Catherine had no problem strolling through the park as we waited for our table.

They sat us next to the street, right across from a wide, spraying fountain. On a day like today the park was crowded, filled with a steady stream of people flowing in and out. Couples sat on benches, whispering sweet affections as they watched the water tumble down the statuary. Mothers pushed strollers past, and a couple of screaming children splashed around in the water.

It was a lovely day. That first flowering of spring where you could lie back and almost pretend that it was summer. The weather wouldn't last, but everyone was in a hurry to savor the day while it did. The women were out as well, their spring fashions in grand display. Catherine noticed too, stopping every minute or two to point at one and ask if they were prettier than her. I told her they weren't, of course, and most of the time I didn't even have to lie.

When had I started thinking of her as a beautiful woman instead of just Emily's kid? Was it the drug working on me, or had it forced me to see what I had willfully ignored all along? Her green eyes twinkled as she watched me, and I saw in her smile something of how I had fallen in love with Emily. There was much of her mother in her, and maybe that was what drew me, but I saw too a person unique unto herself. The smile was familiar, but more playful and less world-wise. Would it become like her mother's in the years to come, or would it be something all of its own?

To think, I had actually kissed those lips. That I had made love to her sweet body.

I had fucked Emily's daughter. What was wrong with me?

Dozens of people passed by every minute, and in my gut I felt sure every one of them knew my shame. How could I be out in public after what I had done? How could I let them see me?

Stop and think, I told myself, were're in the city, downtown. They're just strangers. None of these people are going to know who you are, or care what you do. Only strangers.

That thought kept me calm for all of about five minutes before I was proven wrong.

"Mike!" I heard a voice call out my name, and my heart squeezed tight, "How are you?"

Out of all the cafes in the city, of course he had to come where I was sitting. This couldn't be happening.

No, calm down. He's just passing through. He doesn't know anything. Please let him not notice anything.

"Mr Templeton," I said, rising so fast my knee almost knocked over the table. "It's good to see you."

It really wasn't. The absolute last thing I wanted to see was anyone and everyone that actually knew me, and that went double for any stodgy, judgmental clients of mine.

On second thought, the absolute last thing I wanted was for him to pull out a seat and join us at the table. Given how the rest of my day had gone, it should have come as no surprise when he did exactly that.

"So how is everything, Mike?" he asked between bites of his sandwich. "Are you still with, ah, what was her name again?"

"Emily," I told him, "and yes, we're still happily married."

If she ever learned what I'd done with her daughter, I would become a happily married corpse, but that was beside the point.

"In fact, this is her daughter Catherine. Cath, this is Mr Templeton, one of my best customers."

Yes, see. Nothing going on here except a man taking his wife's daughter out for a nice family outing. I gave Catherine the clearest don't screw this up look I could manage, knowing full well there wasn't a thing I could do if she decided otherwise.

Fortunately, she took the hint. Or maybe her old shyness resurfaced now that the two of us weren't alone in a sea of strangers. Whatever the reason, she was perfectly behaved as she reached across and shook his hand. He frowned as he took in her dress, but that didn't mean anything. Templeton was one of those old geezer who considered anyone younger than thirty a hopeless punk, and didn't really trust anyone until they were at least fifty with good chunk of grey in their hair.

Ok. Introductions over. You've met everyone, you can go now.

Of course he didn't. Why would I expect anything else, given my luck. No, instead we needed a long, rambling discussion of his favorite baseball team, while he waxed poetic about the great players of his day and how today's crop of kids wouldn't even cut it in the minor leagues of his youth.

I smiled and nodded, adding my agreement wherever appropriate. He really was one of our best customers, after all, and I had to pay for Catherine's shopping spree somehow. As he rambled on, I felt something slide across my thigh. I looked at Catherine, and saw her smiling.

No, I shook my head, trying to dissuade her. Not here, not in public, and certainly not in front of my client.

As if that was the biggest problem with having Catherine's hand at my crotch. The idea that someone might see it.

Get it together, Mike, I told myself, but there was little I could do to stop her. Especially if I didn't want to give myself away.

Knowing there was nothing I could do, she just smiled and tugged at my zipper. I bit the inside of my lip, trying not to react as her hand stroked up and down. She teased, changing the rhythm up whenever I started getting used to it. Mid sentence she stopped, pausing just long enough to get my attention before she gave my dick a hard squeeze and started tugging harder. I stumbled, of course I did.

"You all right, son?" he asked, "You seem a bit off today."

"Fine, fine," I said, maybe a bit too quickly. "Must be something I ate."

"Sounds right," he said, "this place just hasn't been the same since Old Man Marciano sold it to that Japanese twerp. Used to have the best damned noodles in the state, but just look at it now. At least they started serving real food again."

To be honest, I couldn't even remember an Italian restaurant here. The sushi place closed at least eight years ago.

"So," I started, trying to steer both my thoughts and the conversation back to baseball. "What about that pitcher they've got. He's got a pretty solid arm."

Yes, baseball. Let's focus on that. Always that, and not the way Catherine was pumping my cock. Fuck, but she had the most adorably impish grin. My dick pulsed, and I swear I was halfway ready to cum right there under the table.

"Bah, so he can throw the ball hard, but what about his hitting? What good is he if he can't cover a base worth a damned? Back in my day, everyone was expected to be a real athlete. The way things are going, they should just replace them all with machines. That's all these kids are, useless pitching machines, no real character, but at least a machine won't ask you for a million dollars a year."

"I think he's actually making close to -ah- to twenty five this year."

"Then there you go," he said, as if I'd just made his point for him. Luckily he was smug enough to miss how Catherine made me stumble halfway through.

"Been good talking with you," he said, standing. "Take care, and be sure to tell, uh..."

"Emily"

"Right, be sure to tell Emily I said hello."

"I will," I promised, shaking his hand. He frowned when I didn't rise, but I had a feeling he really didn't want to see what would pop out if I stood.

"And as for you," he said, turning to Catherine, whose sat so innocently. "Don't get into any trouble, you hear?"

"I'll be good," she said in a singsong voice. He and I read very, very different meanings in her words, and in that smile she gave.

"That's the spirit," he said jovially, always happy whenever people agreed without fuss.

The second he was gone, her hand left my cock. For a second I wanted to complain, but then I realized that was exactly what she wanted. She was hoping that I'd ask her, that I'd tell her to put her hand back on my cock. She looked disappointed when I simply tucked it back into my pants and closed the zipper.

Then I stood. Despite the peril, I had still reacted to her attentions. Even with everything safely contained, the evidence was obvious as soon as the table stopped hiding it.

"Excited for the rest of our day, Daddy?" she asked.

I stammered something at her. It might have even been an answer.

"Don't forget, Daddy," she said, leaning closer, "We still have a romantic day planned."

Like I could forget it.

"Now let's go look at all the cute animals!"

She squealed with joy, and once again looked like an innocent teenage girl rather than the forbidden temptress who was oh so alluringly ruining my life.

The kid manning the ticket booth flirted shamelessly with Catherine, but the nasty scowl I gave made him back right off. Where had that come from? When had I become so possessive?

Catherine scolded me, but her smile said that she liked it. As soon as we were in she turned and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before running off to look at the exhibits. I followed helplessly, still feeling the damp spot where her lips had been.

We spent the rest of the afternoon at the zoo, going from one "Sooooo cute!" animal to the next. Always to Catherine's favorites, never mine. Not that she was deliberately neglecting me, far from it, but it never even occurred to her that I might want something she didn't. Shouldn't have surprised me.

By far, her favorite were the tiger cubs. We sat at the railing for a long time, watching them toddle around like little striped kittens, so long as you ignored the massive, ferocious parents behind them. Lucky bastards, I thought as I watched those aloof, placid carnivores. I'll bet those guys never had to worry about their mates bringing along an overexcited, delusional cub with access to some sort of crazy obedience drug.

Catherine positively gushed over them, loudly cooing about how absolutely adorable they looked when they played with one another. As always, she no more noticed the attention her loud voice drew than she noticed the ugly stares people gave when they noticed how close we were.

I noticed, however, and all I wanted now was to shrink back into myself and make this go away. Instead, I comfortably patted her hip as my arm held her about the waist. Holding her intimately close as together we watched her favorite animals.

Look, it isn't my fault! I wanted to tell them. I know how it looks to you, really I do. How inappropriate it is for us to be so intimate. I think so to, honestly. I'm not the monster here, she is!

But if she was a monster, then she was a very pleasant one. Soft, warm, and very nice to hold.

What was wrong with me? How could I think that, after everything she had done? Maybe this was my fault? Had I encouraged her somehow? Had I secretly wanted this? Maybe if I'd just done things differently, she would have ended this unhealthy obsession?

We had a quiet moment alone in the tunnels of an underwater exhibit. She paused, winking conspiratorially as she turned to me.

"Lower, daddy," she whispered as she gently pushed my hand down past her lower back until it rested on the swell of her rear. Driven by some perverse reflex, I found myself squeezing gently, as I had for Emily in so many private moments. It wasn't a deliberate choice, I couldn't help myself. She had such a nice ass.

Catherine yelped, turning quickly into a high pitched giggle.

"Naughty, naughty," she scolded me, "save it for later. Now let's go get our picture taken with the tiger cubs."

Even with the price tag, we still had to wait in line. In that tight space, Catherine found it easy to innocently press herself back into me, surreptitiously rubbing against my crotch as she pretended to fidget impatiently. Her teasing hands had left me hard and frustrated ever since lunch, and feeling her pressed up against it wasn't doing me any favors. Knowing it was wrong all the while, I still found myself fantasizing about her. Thinking about how good it would feel to pull up that dress and bend her over right here in line.

It was disgusting, utterly inappropriate, but that didn't stop me from wanting it.

We made it to the front of the line, and Catherine absolutely insisted that I join her in the picture. We sat down together, Catherine perched on my lap even as the cub was placed onto hers. I could see the photographer's discomfort, and I felt it myself. Both from how humiliating their obvious disapproval felt, and from how hard she was making me as she rubbed against my lap.

Catherine cooed and fussed over the tiny tigers, but all I could think about was how thin the dress's fabric was. Her weight shifted, her dress rubbing with across my tented pants, and I realized that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. I gulped then, trying not to let my reaction show, but all I could think about was the way she felt against me.

"Enjoying yourself, daddy?" she asked as we left. She made a show of pulling her dress down, but I was pretty sure it was only to pull it tight against her ass when she bent over slightly.

"It was... interesting," I told her. We walked arm in arm one again, strolling past exhibits as she playfully teased me.

"Of course it was," she said, "I got to play with the little tiger kittens, and you got to rub the pussy too. Poor daddy, I'll bet you wished you got to play with the pussy and not just pet it.

I choked, almost stumbling.

"Catherine..."

"Don't you, daddy? Don't you wish you could play with the pussy?"

"Cath, that's not appropri-"

"Go on, say it Daddy."

Sigh!

"I want to play with the pussy," I told her, not entirely dishonestly.

"Don't worry, daddy," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "I'm sure you'll get a chance later."

"Oh joy," I said sarcastically, but the twinge in my cock had been entirely genuine.

"Now let's get out of here. It's late, and we still have to do some shopping before you take me out to dinner."

"I don't remember you saying anything about dinner."

"I just did," she grinned at me.

"That's not what I-"

"Don't worry, I already made reservations."

"When did you-"

"While you were paying for the clothes, silly. Now come on. We're in a hurry."

I followed her, just as she commanded. With the drug still pumping through me, I had no other choice. Then again, she hadn't ordered me to stare at the way her ass filled out her dress as she skipped on ahead, but I did that anyway. Maybe I wasn't totally blameless here.

We made another run through the boutiques where she bought a slinky red evening dress that, off the rack or not, still made my credit cards weep. It looked stunning on her, though. It was long, flowing down past her slim waist almost to her ankles. Every step seemed to set her hips off in a way that drove the breath from my lungs.

"Oh, nothing is going right," she pouted, tears starting to form, "I look terrible."

Nothing could be further from the truth.

"Baby, you look stunning."

"Do you mean it?"

"Absolutely," I told her, without the slightest trace of a lie. "You look so incredibly beautiful right now I can't believe it."

"You're so sweet, daddy," she said, stepping up to kiss my cheek again. I was painfully aware of how her breasts felt when they pressed up against me. I wanted to reach out and take them, but I didn't dare. Not because she wouldn't welcome it, but because she would.

Driving fast, we still barely made our reservations. It didn't help that she was so distractingly enticing, or that her hands kept straying into my seat. We did make it on time, though, and a good thing too, because Catherine had booked us on a sunset dinner cruise.

I prayed then that no one would recognize us, because there was no way to rationalize what was going on here. We were on a romantic date, just as Catherine had wanted, and there was no longer any hiding that. As a couple we earned a few dirty stares, but for once my prayers were answered. Not a one of them was somebody I knew.

From the looks she gave me across the dinner table, and the way her leg brushed against mine, I knew that another prayer would be answered tonight. A desire far too illicit to voice, but that didn't stop me from feeling it. The fading sun framed her hair in a crimson halo that took my every breath away. Her eyes shone like emeralds, and I found myself staring openly into them. Our hands joined across the table. I couldn't remember reaching for them, but it felt right to do so.

There was something in her gaze, something so innocently hopeful that my heart cried out to see it. She was so young, I remembered, and in a moment I wanted to break away, to remind her that we shouldn't be doing this. But then the dance music started, and she pulled me away.

Was I disappointed by this, or relieved?

She didn't know how to dance, not really, but she wanted to learn and so I found myself teaching. With each spin and dip, I could feel her breath come quicker, her body closer. A slow number came, and she found her way against my chest.

"I'm cold, daddy," she whispered as she pressed herself against me, "Hold me close."

My arms enveloped her, folding around her bare shoulders as I held her body against mine. Swaying to the soft beat, our bodies moved as one. We kissed. Our lips speaking a passion that words could no longer envelop. Had she told me to? I couldn't remember, and after a while I stopped caring altogether.

I took her home and made love upon my marriage bed. That stunning dress she had filled so fetchingly pooled to the floor as I peeled it away inch by lovely inch. As fabric receded and delightful flesh appeared, my lips were there to worship her smooth young body. She lay back, quivering in delight as she prepared to take me. I saw the love written on her face, and though I knew her infatuation was wrong I could not help but respond to it.

Catherine gasped as I entered her, and I slowed down. Gently, I bent over to kiss her on the lips. I wanted to touch her and taste her, to hold her close and tell her that everything was always going to be alright. I wanted to take her and possess her, to feel myself inside her and know that she is mine.