The Savannah Situation Pt. 02

I was an asshole, to be honest. When I wasn't with Savannah, or talking to her on the phone, I was counting every minute that went by because being with her was so sexually charged it was like a drug. I'd tell myself I was so freaked out I couldn't think about it, like I might have a nervous breakdown.

But that wasn't it. I didn't want to think about it, to envision anything progressing with her because I wanted to claim ignorance to myself when the time came to be with her. She'd be touching me and I'd be sitting there frozen like a deer in the headlights telling myself, 'I didn't know she was going to do this,' and I 100 percent did know she was going to do that. And I felt 95% sure she'd do whatever I asked.

So I didn't think about literally being with her when I wasn't, didn't think about the fact that I was trying to pretend it wasn't happening while desperately wanting to go to her and waiting for our inevitable reunion when I wasn't with her. That was the heart part of me, I guess. It wanted to love her like that and I've tried my damnedest to figure out why and I haven't yet. The head part of me was pumping the brakes, screaming no, flashing red lights at me. The last time I listened to the head part when it came to Savannah, I missed out on her life. Maybe that's why I didn't pay it as much heed as one might expect.

I didn't kiss her when I said goodnight. Not on the mouth, anyway. It would've felt affectedly comfortable, so I kissed her cheek and gave her a hug. It all felt so different now than when I was trying not to think about sticking my dick in her.

"Do you regret this?" she asked, after I'd let her go. "Be honest."

Her jaw had what I'd call a steely set to it. Ready for anything. I took her hand, which felt strange because it wasn't like I regularly held hands with my daughter as a father, usually only held hands with girlfriends, but it was intended to be a comforting gesture. So it felt about as weird as a lot of that day did. "I don't know how I feel, honey. I loved being with you. I loved kissing you and everything we did together. And you didn't do anything wrong, all right? Doesn't matter how this all turns out. None of this is on you."

She nodded and she tried not to look disappointed and mostly succeeded but it was still there in her eyes, just the slightest knit in her brow but I recognized it. She was hurt I wasn't there yet, wasn't with her in where she wanted our relationship to be.

"Sav, I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. And I don't think I ever will," I said. "You've been feeling like this a long time and I'm still getting used to the idea."

"I know," she said, and I believed her, but I don't think it felt that way for her.

I think that was the first time I felt a pang in my chest about Savannah, like I was seeing a girlfriend in pain because of me. You feel like there's this distance between what you want to do for them and what they want from you and it's impossible to gauge it. It was the first time I wanted to reassure her romantically about our relationship. To be able to tell her she didn't have to get so worried because I wasn't going anywhere and it was just the foreign and alienating feel of embarking on anything with her that was hard for me deal with but how it was starting to feel in my chest was too strong to ignor. And I didn't know what to do with that feeling, so I left.

Chapter 5

Marcus wasn't home when I got there and I was glad. Marsh was sure happy I was back and he followed me to the basement. I'd never seen him go down stairs before and he was squat enough that his hind legs hopped together from step to step and each time his paws hit he huffed like it was a personal affront, which was pretty cute.

I was wired, exhausted, a little sick, a lot worried. What I was doing was insane. And most of the time it felt like I avoided thinking about it entirely because of what it meant about me and because I knew I was going to ignore it anyway, which didn't seem fair to Savannah.

So I sat down and started really thinking about it. It didn't go well. It was an impossible proposition. If we wanted to be together and really live comfortably, we would either have to tell our loved ones what we were doing or just move away and fall out of contact. I sure as shit wasn't about to let it get out that I wanted to be with my daughter. And I didn't want the stigma and shame associated with it lorded over us all the time, either. Savannah wouldn't want it out there either, I knew she wouldn't. So she'd have to leave her mom and stepdad and grandparents behind to be together and I was afraid she would agree to that.

Then there was the difficulty in our identities. Her last name was DesLauriers (you say it like 'Deh-Lor-ee-A') and mine was Harper but it wasn't like we could get married with our real names. I didn't want to rob her of the opportunity to marry, if she wanted to.

And if she wanted to have kids herself, well, what the fuck were we supposed to do then? Find a sperm donor who wasn't her dad? Buy someone else's egg and jab it with my sperm and put it in Savannah to gestate? It was gonna be complicated and expensive.

And that didn't even touch on the psychological ramifications, the stress of doing something so universally condemned. Maybe Savannah was just used to it after ten years, but thinking about how this might be hurting her and I knew that and was doing it anyway was tearing me apart. The last thing I ever wanted was to hurt her, and now she was asking me for what she wanted and I wanted the same thing but this would damage one of us more than the other and it wasn't me.

I stopped scratching Marsh to rub my eyes and sigh. I wish I could look at any part of this and point to one thing, maybe that powerful feeling of being the only one who could give my daughter that which she claimed to want most, and say, 'That, that's what was irresistible."

Except nothing's irresistible, not really. Well, oxygen, maybe. I imagine that every drowning victim is eventually betrayed by his biological imperative, overruled by an unconscious part of the brain that desperately wants to keep itself alive and tries to find the oxygen, even when it's not there.

But I wasn't a victim. There wasn't anything irresistible about this, and even when it didn't feel that way, I knew that's how it really was; I just really, really didn't want to say it to myself. That ultimately I was doing this because I wanted to. That I was going to take Savannah into me because I wanted to. And I wanted more than anything to feel like she wasn't a victim, either.

I wanted that even more than I wanted to stop feeling the way I did about her, and when I realized that, my will to fight anymore started dissolving.

I called her up the next morning before work, just to say hi and see how she was, and she seemed happy to hear from me. And relieved, because she went, "I'm good. I'm glad you called. What about you? Is it weird? I know it's weird. I can't be all chill about this, Chris. Please tell me what you're thinking."

I hesitated and considered it, then sighed. "I'm thinking this is going to be difficult, and I'm terrified that you're mistaken, but that I'd be lying if I said I'd ever come that hard before."

Thankfully, she laughed. "That's very primitive, you know. Being all libido-driven. And reward driven. Good to know."

It made me blush, her plotting sexual games for me. "I love you, honey. I don't want to hurt you. But I feel something different with you and I'm probably a monster for feeling like this. But I want to...I don't know, explore this a little more. Jesus, I feel like a fucking creep."

"You're not a creep. Or a monster. You just feel it, too. I'm so excited!" I could hear it in her voice and there was a twinge of that giddiness in me, too. "See, I knew I was right. I knew I didn't just have daddy issues."

"Well, I mean, I sure hope you don't, honey. Let's go slow, okay? There's no rush and I want to be careful with this."

"Sure, we can go slow. We'll just keep it to you coming on my pussy."

I laughed and my cock perked up, too. "All right, so my track record took a hit. But I mean emotionally, too, though. I can't just dive into a relationship with you. I think we need to feel it out and make sure every part of this feels right and that you feel okay with it all because talking about getting into a relationship with my daughter sounds pretty fucking weird, you know?"

"I know. So far, I feel more than okay. I feel great. This has all been...even better than what I imagined it was going to be like. And I promise, if I ever feel uncomfortable or anything, I'll let you know."

I told her I was glad to hear it and had to get to work and we said goodbye. That night was when Marcus started thinking something was off. We'd been on the same crew that day and felt that the Shanty was in our post-work future so that's where we ended up after stopping at home to take showers and change, drinking beer over greasy fish and chips and then drinking more beer when the fish and chips were gone.

Marcus asked how the therapy was going. I'd been texting Savannah about her day and I put my phone down to tell him I hadn't gone back and she went a few more times but that I thought she wasn't going to anymore, and he furrowed his brow like I was selling him bullshit.

"So, what, that shrink worked it all out with Savannah in a few sessions?" Marcus asked. "Or did she have a change of heart?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "We didn't talk much about her sessions."

Marcus nodded, regarded me with uncertainty, and we didn't discuss Savannah anymore for a while. But then Julia came in, got her standard Manhattan, and sat next to us. We'd all drank together enough that Marcus saw Julia leave with me more than once at the end of the night, so when she asked if I wanted a nightcap at her place and I said I was beat and was just gonna go home and go to sleep, they both gave me strange looks.

Back at Marcus's, we split a joint while Marsh did a perimeter check of the backyard as night descended. I could tell he wanted to say something, and after a minute, he asked, "Chris, you doing all right?"

"Yeah, I'm good. You doing okay?"

He ignored that. "Why didn't you go home with Julia?"

"I'm fucking tired, man," I said, and took a long hit. "That's all."

"Dude, I've never known you to be so tired you don't wanna get some." I didn't say anything, took another long hit and passed the joint. "What's going on with Savannah? That whole thing."

I said, "Nothing," and I felt bad about lying to him. "I mean, she still feels the same, far as I know."

He raised an eyebrow at me while he took a hit and held it a few seconds. "She's a beautiful girl."

"Well, look at this," I said, gesturing to myself. "Of course she's beautiful."

He handed me the joint and whistled for Marsh. "You thinking anything you shouldn't, Chris?"

"Of course not," I said. "She's my daughter."

"All right, man. You ever want to talk, I'm around. You talk to me if you start thinking anything you shouldn't," Marcus said.

"Fuck, man. She's my daughter. I told you, it's fine," I said, kinda terse. I tried to hand him the joint and he waved me off.

"Keep it. You seem stressed. We're going inside. Goodnight, my man."

I waited a couple minutes so we wouldn't run into each other, stubbed the joint out, and went inside and down to the basement and texted Savannah that I was in for the night and she responded quick asking to come over. So that was how she came over around 10 that night, even though I told her I'd smoked a joint with Marcus. I wasn't sure I wanted to be around her while I was high, but she didn't seem to mind.

She sat on the couch with me and I looked around and thought I could do better than my buddy's basement for her and told myself I'd start looking for a place. The joint was on top of the old Star Trek TV and she took it and held her hand out. "Lighter, please."

I wasn't in any kind of position to advise on one's personal comportment so I gave it to her. But before she lit it up I said, "Wait, you're gonna have to drive later."

She shrugged and lit the joint and took a deep pull. "It's fine, I won't get that high. Besides, you can just drive me home. Then I can see you tomorrow, too," she said, and handed me the joint.

She didn't want to go anywhere and I didn't want her to, so I took a hit myself. "I'm not gonna be able to drive you anywhere for a while, Sav."

She settled into the couch. "Well, if you get sick of me, I'll just get a Lyft or something."

"Pfff. You joking? Never. I'd never, ever get sick of having you around. That's always been true." That made her snuggle against my shoulder. "Besides, you're not gonna find a Lyft in Crooked River at anytime, much less past 10 o'clock on a Monday night."

"Oh." She paused and looked at me, and I think she really hadn't thought about it. "Oh, right. No, I guess not," she said. We both laughed too hard at that.

I was surprised at how easy it was to just hang out with her, sinking toward each other in the couch as we finished the joint. It was like we spoke the same language, like she knew what I said with the things I didn't say to her. We were similar in that way; we'd both take long pauses sometimes to take a thought and craft it into a series of clauses we hoped the other would parse. I suppose it's a bit of a cowardly way to talk, refusing to say things outright. But it was also kind of a fun puzzle.

After the joint was out I laced my fingers with hers and we sat there side by side. I had my temple on the top of her head and I probably could've fallen asleep like that. Instead, I said, "Sav, it's not gonna feel weird to...date your father? I mean, that's a pretty uncomfortable pretense to keep up to the outside world. I don't know how much of this I'd want to do out in public."

Giggles came out of her like champagne fizz and she said, "Well, definitely don't come all over my pussy in public."

"What? I had that one down in the yes pile. For sure." It made her laugh and I thought, 'what the fuck did I just joke about?', but I was high so I decided I'd just pretend for a while that hadn't happened. "You know what I mean, though? Like what if this somehow turns into a relationship? Are we a couple that's gonna have couple friends? Go on double dates with Katie and Will who met in college? I mean, I don't know about you, but I find that prospect terrifying."

"Did you know you were talking about the Royals just now?"

I did not. "Of course I knew," I said, and when she laughed it was definitely at me.

When she was done laughing at me, she said, "Okay, I don't know. I don't know how it's going to work. But we can figure it out. And we can do this in private for as long as we want, until we feel comfortable being out in public and pretending I'm only your girlfriend, not also your daughter."

"I mean, all right, but I'm also visibly older than you. People are gonna wonder. They're probably gonna say I have a youth fetish and you have daddy issues and there's a lot of evidence for both sides."

Savannah shook her head and waved her hand. "Nah. They're gonna look at us and be like, "Oh, yeah. This makes sense. I can see them being into each other."

"Is that so?"

"Stop. You know you're good looking. No false humility here."

"I didn't say I wasn't exceptionally good looking," I started, and she laughed again. "I just don't know if I'm on your level."

"What are you talking about? You're very handsome and you've got, like, a really nice body for laying on and I love your eyes."

"Really? Thank you, Sav," I said. She shrugged against my shoulder. "Now, the good looks are undeniable, I agree. But I mean, I'm kinda built because I work manual labor and make shit money doing it and it's mind-numbing. I have a GED, Sav, and you're gonna be a doctor. People are gonna wonder what you're doing with me. Including me."

"You've got some money. Quit. Do what you want. I have more money. I'll fund whatever you want to do."

"You'll 'fund' it? Like a kept man?"

Savannah giggled. "I mean, if you were into it, you could be. I don't care."

"You're just gonna let a guy who'd fuck his own daughter do whatever he wants with your money?"

"Wait a minute, you'd fuck me?" she said, sitting up quick.

"I mean...I don't know. I didn't mean right now. Look, I feel like you're making terrible choices here. If I'm an asshole, which I very well may be given what I've done so far, I could really fuck up your life."

"You wouldn't do that to me."

"No, I wouldn't, but...I mean, if I were going to, that's what I'd say. Of course I'd promise I wouldn't."

She pressed a finger to my lips. "Stop talking. You're too high. I know you, you wouldn't do that." I stopped talking. "Do you want to make out?"

I really, really did. "I don't know how I feel about making out when you're high."

"Oh, so just when you're high? You should've told me that before I lit up. Come on. It's just making out. We did it last night. It doesn't matter if we do it more."

"I'm highly suggestible when high, though," I said. "I might say yes to things I otherwise wouldn't have."

"Maybe you should say yes to more things when you're not high, hmm?" She trailed her fingers along my hairline and traced it down to my beard. "How about this, I'll only make out with you, and if you want to go further, you tell me. I won't push it."

"Sure, that seems like a good enough compromise," I said, and started to get excited about it. Any arbitrary set of rules that would permit me to kiss her. Savannah leaned forward and met my lips roughly and it was from the start her tongue was sliding over mine. The taste of her mouth was addictive; I wanted more and didn't think any amount would ever be enough. And as we kissed, she was turning us around, urging me to stretch out on the couch so she could lay on top of me and I just went with it. So she was straddling me and we were kissing, with my cock hard under her groin. She whimpered and rubbed herself along the length of it and it all made my hands tighten on her hips. Then she put her lips by my ear and breathed, "You feel so good, Daddy."

I groaned. "That's not fair. How am I supposed to be content with making out when you say stuff like that?"

"You're not supposed to be content with it. That's the whole point." She sat up and put her hands over mine on her hips. "I'm not asking you to, but just so you know. You can touch me anywhere, Daddy. Maybe start with my ass."

She was clothed, I told myself, so it wasn't all that bad. Her ass was firm but workable when I slid my hands around and they filled solidly with her lushness and it added a pretty nice new degree of control for pulling her along the length of my cock, and I'd only done that while we kissed for a minute before I said, "Fuck, Savannah, you feel good. Fuck it. Do you want me to touch you?"

She looked surprised. "Yes. Yes, please."

"All right, I'm kicking myself that we're doing this on a couch right now, but too late. Take off your clothes. I mean, if you want to."

She nodded, a little wide eyed, stood up and pulled her sweater over her head and pushed her jeans and underwear down her hips, saying as she did, "I know there's no implicit threat. You don't have to say that, Daddy. I'll tell you if I don't want to do something."

When I was done pulling my shirt over my head I nodded and took my pants off. We were both naked and I laid on the couch and asked her to lay on her side next to me and she did. I touched her cheek and kissed her for a second, extremely aware that my cock was almost touching her belly just below her navel. "You sure you want me to touch you?"

"Yes. YES. Just do it already."

"All right. I want you to tell me if anything hurts or you want to stop or anything, okay?"