Fullepub 
Good Little Girl
Good Little Girl
“Bite me, Daddy.”Aimee’s eyes shone bright with defiance, her mouth curling into a grin of pure fucking disrespect. She leant against the doorframe, freeing up my view of the half-naked prick beyond as he struggled to get his clothes together.
I took a step forward, close enough for her to catch the gravelly menace in my voice. “If he’s not out of this house within thirty fucking seconds, I’ll do more than bite, sweetheart.”
I saw her breath hitch, the beautiful flash of surprise as it swept across her face. “You wanna play big, tough stepdad now Mother’s not around, hey? Is that it?”
My eyes narrowed, slicing into hers with the full force of my irritation. “I’m not playing.”
“Screw you,” she hissed. “Mikey was leaving anyway.”
“He’d better get a move on, since he’s got twenty seconds left to get the hell out of here.”
“Fine, jerk.”
She slammed the door but I let it slide, loosening my tie as I headed back downstairs. I’d been flying high with that Friday feeling, knocking off work early to the call of a cold beer straight from the fridge, but my high had dissipated into nothing. I grabbed the beer anyway.
Day one of twenty without Louise and we were already at war. Bloody brilliant.
If I’d have met Aimee Jane Rowley before I married her mother, she’d have been a proper fucking deal-breaker. Petulant, spoiled to shit, un-fucking-disciplined. An only child to a single mother who’d had plenty of money but not enough time, and a legend in her own tiny mind. But that wasn’t the deal-breaker. Not even close.
Aimee Jane Rowley was an accident waiting to happen; the ultimate honeytrap for a dirty sonofabitch like me. You’d think she was an angel, with her bouncy blonde curls and baby blue eyes, the light dusting of freckles high across her cheekbones, but she was anything but angelic. The glint in her eyes said dirty girl, and I’ve always been a sucker for a forbidden fruit. It doesn’t get much more forbidden than hot, tight stepdaughter pussy.
A racket of footsteps sounded loud on the stairs, followed by the slam of the front door. Good fucking riddance to the boy trying to get into her panties. I was enjoying my beer when Aimee stuck her pouty face around the doorframe.
“I’m going too.”
“The guy’s a loser,” I announced. “A stupid kid. He wouldn’t even know what he was doing. I promise you that. Get yourself a vibrator and stop relying on dickheads.”
“I’ve already got one, thank you.”
She presented herself in full view, hands on hips, trademark spiky demeanour aggravating the shit out of me. I struggled to ignore the smooth curve of her waist. The tight, young promise of her thighs as they tensed under her skirt. I swear the girl has the perkiest little rack I’ve ever seen on God’s green earth. Her mother was a looker, but whatever genes had spliced in with Aimee Rowley’s DNA had served her well. Daddy must have been one hell of a pretty boy.
“He’s hardly boyfriend material, I don’t even know him,” she snapped. “I’m not my mother. I don’t get involved and end up marrying an asshole on a whim.”
“I don’t know what you inherited less of – her work ethic or her common sense,” I retorted.
“I don’t want her common sense. Not if a guy like you is the result of her superior decision-making skills.”
I looked at the girl in front of me. There was rage in her eyes, for sure, but there was something more than that.
“Why do you fight me all the time, Aimee?” My tone was flat and calm, genuinely curious. “Haven’t I tried to be nice to you?”
“Urgh,” she said. “That’s enough family bonding for one day. Don’t wait up, Kyle.”
“I hope Mikey lives up to your expectations.”
She gave me the finger on her way out.
I slumped backon the sofa and flicked through the TV, pondering again just how the fuck I’d ended up in this situation. I’d met Louise Rowley at a conference out in Kefalonia six months earlier. Some team building shit the assholes in senior management claimed would lead to ‘improved corporate communication’. For me it led to a damn sight more. A beach wedding and a brand new family of three in the heart of London suburbia. Peachy, or so it seemed.
Louise appeared to be just the woman I wanted, career-focused, sharp, confident... non-hysterical. She’d seemed to be a lot of things, and at thirty-nine and two years her junior I’d happily signed up for the experience. Why the hell not? I had no ties, no better options... why not give family life a shot?
I didn’t count on Louise having a daughter like Aimee. A daughter I craved to discipline, educate, and shape to my filthy twisted will. I didn’t count on my new bride having a daughter who was a slutty little mantrap, the kind of girl who lived for cock but didn’t yet know it, who danced around idiot young men because she didn’t know any better, didn’t know what a real man could do for her.
The wedding spell had broken quickly once Louise and I were back in England, and I suspected by now that we’d both long since recognised the error of our ways. Louise’s agenda had been clear once we got home, and after doing the rounds of trophy husband I’d soon been discarded. Show over, she was off again, with another big corporate event to co-ordinate. More places to go, more people to see. She’d barely even waved goodbye to either Aimee or I, and I’d wondered whether, deep down, she’d ever really given a shit about anyone but herself.
She’d admitted when we met, after sinking too many sangrias, that she’d never set out to be a mother at all. An accident, by all accounts, just like our impulse marriage was turning out to be. Now her two accidents were holed up under the same roof, locking horns at every opportunity.
I should have walked out of that shit, packed a bag and returned to my old apartment. The place was still technically on the market, since buyer negotiations were still going through. I should have been out of there, stopping at the nearest divorce lawyer enroute, but something held me tight.
I suspected, despite my constant irritation, that that something was Aimee.
It was gone 1 a.m.when her key sounded in the lock. I’d already decimated the beers in the fridge and switched over to Channel XXX, stroking my cock to a horny little threesome with three young blondes. I stuffed my dick out of sight before Aimee saw me, flicking through the channels to something innocuous. The girl was trashed. She smacked her shoulder on the doorway as the teetered her way in, pirouetting gracelessly on the rebound and landing in a heap at my side on the sofa. I caught a glimpse of white lace panties under her skirt, and if she’d been sober she’d have seen how my hungry eyes lingered, my palm brushing the hard-on under my suit trousers.
It was only when she pushed the curls back from her face that I saw what a train wreck her makeup was. An unmistakable trail of ruined mascara smeared from her eyes, and her cheeks were blotched pink. Her lip quivered, despite her efforts to keep her composure.
“What’s up, pussycat? Mikey not the big, hot stud you thought he was?” I tried to be cocky in my questioning, but it trailed off into nothing. Her dishevelled condition knocked me hard, right in the pit of my drunken stomach. I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to fuck her, hold her, or go after that Mikey sonofabitch and find out what the fuck he’d done to her.
“Like you care,” she snapped.
“Did he hurt you?”
She rolled her eyes, swatting away a tear in the process. “No, Mikey didn’t hurt me. I hardly even saw him all night. Turns out Mikey has a girlfriend, the perfect Imogen Delaney no less. He works for her dad, and apparently that’s the only reason he’s with her – that’s what he said. Like I give a fuck about him anyway.”
“So why the tears?”
Her lip trembled again. “Do you actually give a shit? Do you?”
I turned in her direction, pulling up a knee to hide the remnants of my hard-on. “Yes. I give a shit. Tell me what the fuck’s going on.”
She edged closer, her knee coming to rest dangerously close to mine. “I thought they were my friends, but they hate me. Why do they hate me?”
“What happened?”
“The usual. They called me a slut, said I’m a piece of trashy shit, that guys only want me coz I’m an easy lay. Beth went all psycho on me, said I was eyeing up her boyfriend, but I wasn’t. He’s a loser and she already told me he can’t keep it up. Why would I want to get on a useless sack of shit like that?”
“You’re drunk, they were drunk. It’ll blow over in the morning and you’ll be laughing it off over messenger by lunch.”
“You don’t get it, do you?” she said. I pondered her question, and found that no, I didn’t get it at all. “Everyone hates me!”
“That’s bullshit. Of course your friends don’t hate you.”
“They do!” she cried. “This always happens to me. Even my own mother hates me. And you, you hate me too, don’t pretend you don’t.”
I turned off the TV, and her ragged breath sounded so much louder, so much closer. I’d never seen her like this. Drunk, sure, drunk and cocky, sure; but never like this, not once in the six months I’d known her.
“Your mother doesn’t hate you, she loves you.”
She laughed a bitter laugh. “You’re so full of shit, you know that? You know it as much as I do.”
“Your mother is busy with work, and she gets preoccupied, that’s all.”
“And you?” she asked. “You hate me, don’t you? Admit it. You can’t stand me. I know you can’t. Sometimes I don’t even blame you, since I hate myself.”
She looked so young sat there. Her eyes so big and sad, and so fucking pretty with her sweet little fingers curled in her hair.
“It’s a bit rich to accuse me of hating you, don’t you think? It’s you who’s gunning for me every time I step through the door.”
“So, you do hate me.”
I smiled. “You drive me fucking mental sometimes, Aimee, but no, I don’t hate you.”
The hairs on my arms stood on end, clocking the danger in the room before I did. Aimee shifted in her seat, raising the hem of her skirt just a fraction. I soaked in the milky white perfection of her thighs. Shit.
Her eyes met mine, and there it was again, the dirty girl glint.
“Do you love Mum? Did you ever? Was it really what you both claimed it was when you came back from vacation and declared undying love?”
“I married your mother, didn’t I?”
She shrugged. “Like that means anything. I don’t think she loves you. I don’t think she ever did. You’re just another one of her possessions left on the shelf now she’s bored of you. You can join the club.”
“Thanks for that.” I feigned chest pain.
“I wouldn’t worry about it. She doesn’t love anyone, only herself.” She paused, bitchiness easing off just a little. “Sorry. If you do love her, I mean. If you don’t, it doesn’t matter a shit.”
“I’m not drunk enough for this,” I sighed. “Not for a conversation about the reality of love in modern suburbia, and definitely not with you.”
“You think I’m a silly little girl, that I’m just the spoiled little brat you see every day. You think that’s all there is to me, don’t you?”
“You make it really damn hard to see anything else, since that’s all you ever show me.”
“Maybe I don’t want anyone to see anything else. Maybe it’s easier that way.”
“Easier to be a cocky little brat than show a little common courtesy? I think that would be easier for anyone. You can take the easy route all you like, sweetheart, and I’ll suck it up. I’ve got bigger things on my plate than whether you’re being a bitch to me or not.”
Her eyes pooled with fresh tears. “See, you really do hate me after all.”
Fucking hell. I’d overstepped the mark like a prick, letting my cocky who-gives-a shit attitude speak for me.
My hand was on her knee before I’d even registered. Her skin was silky soft, warm to the touch.
“If I hated you, I wouldn’t be here. You’re the one who’s stuck here with me, not the other way around.”
“So, it’s not about the house? You’re not staying here for the swanky pad? Yeah, right. Like that’s not your biggest concern.”
I pulled a face, genuinely shocked.
“You think I’m worried about keeping this place? I mean, sure, it’s nice, but I couldn’t give a toss whether I have a nice four-bed detached or not. The apartment is plenty enough for me.”
“Hasn’t the apartment sold already?”
“No. I could pack up and be back there in an hour if I wanted to. I could get straight on to the agent in the morning and tell her I was pulling it from sale, no big deal.”
There was silence between us as she tried to digest it. Both of us drunk and lost for words.
“I really thought you were staying here because you had to,” she said. “I didn’t think you had a choice.”
“Well, now you know, don’t you?”
Another silence as she tried to digest it, and I didn’t fill it in with pointless words.
Her breaths were shallow when she spoke next. “I don’t really hate you, Kyle, I just pretend I do. It always makes it easier to think people hate me, then it doesn’t hurt so bad when I find out it’s really true.”
I swallowed hard, trying to stay detached from her. Just enough to keep my wits and my cool.
She twirled her hair. “You know, when I was little, I thought my mum bought me things because she loved me, now I know it was because she didn’t. She’d always tell me I was a good girl and hand over presents, like they showed me she cared. She was lying, though. She never gave a shit. It was just an easy way to pretend she did. An easy form of compensation.”
I shrugged. “People show love in different ways.”
“She doesn’t show love in any way. Nobody does. I’ve been bad my whole life and nobody says a thing. Nobody stops me. Nobody cares. Mum would sigh and tell me to be good and offer me a reward if I did as I was told. She did it to shut me up, not because she gave a stuff about my behaviour. If she could shut the door on me and let me get on with being a spiteful little brat, she would do,” she paused. “She’d only buy me off when it was necessary. Usually when she had friends over or work to be doing.”
My heart was thumping like crazy. “That’s crazy talk. Your mother is your mother. She cares. People care.”
“No, they don’t. And I don’t blame them.” She twisted her fingers on her lap. “I am the stupid, bad bitch everyone says I am.”
I’ve always hated the victim mentality. Even coming from her with a tear-streaked face, it irritated the shit out of me.
“It’s always a choice, sweetheart. You choose who you want to be. Only you can change your behaviour.”
Only that was bullshit, and I knew it. I could change her behaviour with a few decent slaps on her ass and some proper fucking discipline.
She opened her legs a little, almost imperceptibly. Almost. There was something unspoken between us. A tension building. That’s when I guessed she knew the only you can change your behaviour crap was bullshit too. She knew as well as I did that someone like me could change her behaviour with a decent amount of guidance.
I didn’t think she’d risk voicing it out loud. The alcohol must have been flowing rampant through her brain to even consider it, but she did.
“Maybe I want to be bad, hey? Maybe I hope one day someone will care enough to stop me... to put me in my place and make me behave.”
“You’re drunk,” I stated the obvious.
“So? What if I am? It doesn’t make any difference, does it? I’m only telling the truth.”
“You need to go to bed,” I said. “Now.”
“I have secrets, Kyle...”
“Don’t we all,” I muttered, then took another breath. “Get your ass up to bed, Aimee. Sleep it off.”
“I’m not lying. I have real secrets. I write about them in my diary. I write about you, too.”
“Go to bed, Aimee.” I fixed her in the most serious stare I could muster, part of me begging her to leave, the other part daring her to stay.
She sighed and steadied herself, pulling her legs away from me and raising herself from the sofa. “Fine. Goodnight then, Daddy.”
I held my breath until she was long gone.
Aimee’s bedroomlight was on as I made my way upstairs. I walked past quickly, not entirely trusting my urges. Stepdaughter, stepdaughter, stepdaughter. The mantra should have rammed some perspective into my swollen fucking balls, but all it did was stoke me higher. I ditched my suit and took a shower, a cold shower – scrubbing my skin to citrus-scented purity, desperate to scrub her out of me. But the glimpse of her white lace panties held firm, blazing bright behind my eyeballs. My mouth watered, hungry for the scent of silky young pussy, hungry for the dirty little girl down the hallway. She’d be satin soft, her tight little cunt so eager for my fingers, so eager for me. I turned up the shower to hot, lowering my head until the force of the jet scorched my shoulders. The water surged around my ears, drowning out the world, but I was all out of fight.
With a groan I relented and reached for my cock. In my deviant mind Aimee was reclining on her bed, head lolling back against frilly white pillows, blonde curls splayed like a clichéd golden halo. Her legs were spread wide, nightdress hitched around her waist as her glitter pink nails circled her sweet clit. She’d look at me through hooded eyes, breathing hard and fast. And then she’d say the words; words I should never hear but fuck, they’d sound so fucking sweet. Fuck me, Daddy, please. Please, Daddy, give it to me. Jesus Christ. My cock leapt in my hand, jerking and twitching and pulsing into oblivion. White hot release shot through my balls until I was a wreck, a grunting hulk of sin, coming like a fucking animal. Dirty girl, so fucking dirty.
I caught my breath, my brow pressed to the tile. The forbidden fruit always tastes so fucking juicy. Hell don’t I know it. I’ve been filthy my whole life.
I slung a towel around my shoulders, stopping at the sink to brush my teeth. I wiped a streak in the steam on the mirror, ready to meet the eyes of the dirty fucker who’d shot his load over stepdaughter pussy, but instead I saw beyond. Beyond to the crack of light in the doorway and the flash of blonde hair stumbling from my bedroom.
What the fuck?
Aimee wasfragile in the morning. She was waspier than usual, scowling at me as I fried up egg and bacon. My optimism was shelved in seconds. I’d been a fool to think anything about our seemingly heartfelt chat would last through the night. She was back to her usual bratty self, loud and clear.
“Do you have to cook right now?” she snapped. “I think I’m gonna barf.”
I pushed down my indignation, turning to face her with a spatula in hand. “Did nobody ever teach you manners, or are you simply this obnoxious by choice?”
“I feel sick and you’re cooking dead pig in front of me, it’s you who has bad manners.”
“It’s called making breakfast. A totally normal occurrence in a kitchen last time I checked. Clear off if you don’t like it.”
She made no attempt to move while I dished up my food, granting me just a cursory glance as I took a seat opposite. Angry fingers jabbed at her mobile phone as it buzzed and flashed in her hand.
“Have you made up with your friends?” I asked her.
“They’re not my friends. I don’t give a shit about them.”
“That’s not how it appeared last night.”
“Yeah, well, I was drunk,” she groaned. “Fuck those losers, anyway. I need some cash, please. Fifty should do.”
“What for?”
“None of your business.”
“Fine, then it’s not my business to give you any.”
She didn’t even look up. “You’re supposed to be taking care of me, aren’t you? Dads give their daughters money. Mum isn’t around right now to give me an allowance, so I guess it’s up to you to cough up the cash.”
That pushed me too far. My voice was low and loud when I answered her.
“Dads give their daughters whatever they deserve. All you deserve is a sore backside, sweetheart. Maybe I should cough one of those up instead.” The fact she was still in her nightdress made that idea even more appealing. “Call your mother if you want cash. If you ask me for a handout like that again, I’ll give your ass a decent fucking slapping for your cheek.”
Blue eyes finally met mine. There was long moment of silence as she stared across at me. Her mouth was still set in an angry little pout, but her demeanour had shifted. Her words from the night before echoed around my brain. Maybe I hope that one day someone will care enough to stop me... to put me in my place and make me behave.
“You wouldn’t dare spank my ass,” she said. “I’m twenty years old.”
“Try me,” I goaded. “You’re never too old for the belt, princess. It made a fine man out of me.”
“Yeah, sure it did. A real fine man, Daddy.”
“Watch your mouth, Aimee.”
She laughed, a bitchy little cackle, and I swear it was on purpose to goad me. I felt my hackles rise, the urge to put the little bitch over my knee threatening to boil over.
“I don’t need your money anyway.” She shrugged, like it meant shit to her. “I’ll get some from Mikey. He’s picking me up this afternoon.”
“The same Mikey who’s dating someone else? Some other darling instead of you?” I said. “Oh, I forgot, you don’t give a fuck about him, do you?”
She folded her arms, eyes like thunder. “I don’t actually. I’m using him for sex, and the sex will be a lot better now that he owes me. He wouldn’t want his precious girlfriend to find out he’s been fucking my tight little ass, would he? He works for her father in some posh gig down Piccadilly Circus. My silence will be worth even more to him than my pussy.”
“You’re a classy girl, Aimee, you know that?”
“It’s not a crime to enjoy sex, Kyle. And I’ve seen your internet browsing history. You’re not all that classy yourself.”
My blood turned to stone. “You’ve been on my laptop, have you? You sneaky little bitch.”
A sly grin lit up her face. “It was enlightening. What a big, bad boy you are, Kyle Priestley. Not quite so Priestley, are you?”
“What the fuck were you looking at?”
“Aww, did I make you angry? Shame.” She turned her attention back to her phone, still grinning. My mind whirred, speeding through the contents of my laptop, the scanned paperwork in my documents folder. Embarrassment burned like a motherfucker, burned me up with the thought of what she’d found in there. The thought of her laughing. Laughing at me, laughing at my misfortune. Did she laugh with her friends? Laugh at what a stinking loser Kyle Priestley really was. Laugh about my dirty little secret.
I overloaded without warning, striking like a cobra to wrench her from her seat. Her phone clattered to the floor, and her eyes flew wide and wild, mouth open. I didn’t give her time to fight me, twisting her wrist behind her back and slamming her chest down on the tabletop.
“You’ve pushed it too far this time, Aimee, too fucking far. You think I was joking about the belt? Think I’m a fucking joke, do you? Is that it? It’s time you learned some fucking manners, little girl.”
“What are you doing?” she hissed. “Kyle, what the hell are you doing?!”
I pinned her hard, my chest against her back. Her body was so small, crushed under my weight so tight I could feel her breathing.
“You asked for this, sweetheart, you’ve been asking for this every fucking day I’ve known you.” I straightened up, pressing hard between her shoulder blades to keep her in position. “Don’t you dare move, Aimee, don’t you fucking dare.”
She wrenched her head around to face me, a picture postcard of shock. Her face had turned white, eyebrows high on her head in frozen animation. She didn’t make a sound as I loosened my belt, not a single fucking sound. I looped the leather in two, tested it hard against my hand. Aimee flinched at the thwack, and underneath my rage the lust uncoiled, stretching a path right the way along my spine. I hitched the soft white cotton of her nightdress, sucking in breath at the beauty of her ass. She was perfectly formed, milk-white flesh goose-pimpling before my eyes. She flinched again as I hooked my fingers inside her lacy pink thong, gasping as I slid the scrap of fabric all the way down her thighs. She clenched her legs together, but not in time to hide her modesty. Her pretty little pussy had bared its lips, promising me the tightest of wet kisses. Fuck. I was hard. Fucking hard and fucking angry. I stood in no man’s land, fighting for composure, struggling to back the fuck down and get out of there, out of the fucking craziness. I took a step back, letting the belt hang limp against my thigh.
Aimee didn’t move.
She didn’t move a muscle.
Finally her voice peeped up, thin and wispy in the quiet. “Kyle...”
“Shut up,” I barked. “For once in your life, just shut the fuck up.” My dick pulsed in my jeans, thrumming with the need for brutality, the need to punish.
She arched her back, shimmering blonde curls under the kitchen spotlights. “Kyle... Daddy...”
“SHUT UP!” I could feel my pulse in my temples, rushing with adrenaline. “You’ll shut up if you know what’s good for you.”
She turned her head again, slowly this time. I saw her lips move without sound, the quietest utterance. I moved closer, straining to hear her fucking apology.
But there was no apology.
“Please...” she whispered, so softly it was like a breath. “Do it.”
I nearly buckled on the spot, nearly shot my hot fucking load in my jeans. Her big, wide eyes, her tight little mouth. “Apologise,” I barked. “Final chance.”
She shook her head, then turned away, pressing her face to the tabletop. She moved her arms out of the way, her hands flat to the wood. I saw the muscles in her legs tense, the soft globes of her ass bracing themselves for punishment.
“You’re a very, very bad girl, Aimee. Apologise now or I’ll show you what happens to bad girls.”
Her breath was shallow and frantic, but she didn’t move a muscle.
“Last chance, Aimee.” I pressed my hand onto the small of her back, and she gasped, shifting from foot to foot, but still she stayed quiet.
“Fine, then,” I told her. “Let’s teach you some manners, shall we?”
“Yes, Kyle...” she murmured.
My dick jerked in my jeans, swollen enough to fucking burst, and I gave in, gave in to the whole fucking lot of it. Every dirty thought, every wet fucking dream, every single time I’d jerked off over her.
“Daddy,” I said. “You’ll call me Daddy from here on in.”
I felt her shiver, her breath catching in her throat. I waited, soaking in the silence, waited until she choked out the words.
“Yes... Daddy...” she whimpered. “Please...”
I started slowly, but made sure it hurt. I gave her ass a decent slapping with my palm until she was murmuring, but that wasn’t enough of a punishment.
She needed more.
I groaned as I swung the belt, bringing it down hard against virgin flesh. She wriggled like a fish, squealing in shock and pain.
“This is what happens to sneaky, dirty girls in this house,” I grunted. “You’ll be good from now on, Aimee. Really fucking good.”
“Ow!” she wailed. “Ow, Daddy, Ow!”
I hit her so fucking hard, over and over, lashing her with vicious bites of leather until she tried to scramble away. I pulled her back into position calmly. “Take your punishment like a good girl,” I hissed. “Take it all.”
Her knees locked together, her breathing ragged. “Yes, Daddy!” she cried. Her pain-filled sob was the sweetest fucking sound I’d ever heard.
I stroked her hair, teasing her curls in my fingers. “Let Daddy teach you, like a good girl.”
I landed a vicious stroke across her thighs, and her soft whimper was music to my filthy ears. It spurred me on all the more, savaging her soft flesh with hard, loud thwacks. I beat her ass red raw, raw enough that she was shaking with adrenaline, yelping and twitching at every blow. I stopped only when breathless, surveying the damage. The girl was broken, sobbing against the table, and yet she hadn’t made any attempt to move away.
“Have you learnt your lesson now, Aimee?”
She nodded, gulping in air. I dropped the belt on the floor and ran my fingers over the rosy welts on her ass.
“So sore,” I whispered. “You’ll remember this for a long, long time, won’t you?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
I wandered my touch down her thighs, tracing the pink patterns over her skin. She shifted her legs apart, offering me passage to the dainty folds of her cunt. She was glistening wet, and the scent of her bludgeoned my senses, pounding through my brain. I pressed my thumb against her hungry slit, sinking inside her.
“Please,” she murmured. “Please.”
“Is this what you need, dirty girl?” I stepped right up and ground my crotch against her ass and she rolled her hips like a seasoned whore. “I knew you were a filthy little cock dolly. How many men have been in this tight little cunt, Aimee?”
“I don’t know,” she wheezed. “Some...”
“Don’t make me pick up that belt again,” I hissed. “How many, Aimee? You’d better tell me.”
“Thirty... forty... I dunno.”
“Forty?” Jesus Christ.
“I love sex, Kyle. I need sex. It’s all I think about.”
I took a handful of curls, twisted her head to face me. “What did you call me?”
“Sorry, Daddy,” she smiled. “I love cock, Daddy. I want yours.”
We both jumped, startled as her phone screeched from the floor. It whirred around, vibrating in noisy little circles across the tiles. Caller display punched me hard in the groin, crushing my excitement in a vice of pain. Mother.
“Shit,” Aimee said. “Mother bitch calling. Impeccable timing.”
I backed away as reality crashed down. What the fuck was I thinking? What the fuck, you stupid horny sonofabitch? What the actual fuck?
Aimee kicked the handset away, reaching around to finger her clit.
“Where were we, Daddy?” she asked, but I was done. Senses crashing firmly back in.
I retreated to the sink, dowsing my face with cold water. “Enough,” I said. “This was a mistake.”
“It wasn’t,” she said. “You want me, I know it now.”
“This is fucked up. Really fucked up.”
“So?” she snapped, eyes wide and angry. “Nobody has to know.”
“We’ll know,” I said. “I’ll know.”
That seemed to trigger her. “Oh, right. So, I’m not worth it now? Not worth the risk? I’m not a baby!” she hissed. “I’m a grown woman, I can fuck who I like!”
“Watch your mouth,” I snarled. “Or I really will pick that belt back up.”
“Good,” she pouted. “And after that you can fuck me. I know you’ll fuck me hard, Daddy. I think about it every night.”
“Stop,” I said. “Just stop.”
“Why?!”
I groaned in frustration, balls aching like a bastard. “This is so fucking wrong.”
“I like wrong,” she said. “And so do you. I know it.”
“Show’s over,” I snapped. “I mean it.”
Her eyes turned dark, hurt and angry. “Are you fucking serious, Kyle? For fucking real?”
“Deadly,” I said. “Please, Aimee, do as you’re told for once.”
Her mouth slammed shut, a tight little line of rage. She pulled up her panties, smoothing down her nightdress. “Asshole!” she yelled. “I thought you wanted me!”
I sighed. “That isn’t it, sweetheart.”
“Fine, whatever,” she snapped. “I’ll go get fucked by someone else, someone who does want me.”
“Jesus, that isn’t it.”
“Six fucking months!” she screeched. “I’ve thought about this the whole time!”
My temples were pounding, senses in overload. “It’s not me you want, baby face. You only want what you can’t have. That’s the thing with being spoiled. You want the toy just out of reach.”
“Fuck you, you patronising prick.”
I stalked over in a heartbeat, pressing my face into hers. “Don’t you dare use that tone with me. I could beat you again all day long, a hard-on isn’t compulsory. It’s not all about sex, you know.”
“You’re kidding yourself,” she said. “I felt how hard you were.”
“I’m sick of your spoiled little tantrums, Aimee, sick to fucking death.”
“This isn’t a tantrum!” she raged. “I really want this!”
“Sure,” I smiled. “Wanted this enough to make my life hell for six months. You can kid yourself, sweetheart, but don’t kid me. You hated my guts on sight when I first turned up here.”
“You don’t know me at all,” she said. This time her eyes took me aback, they were pooling, heavy with hurt.
I mustered all the resolve I could manage, holding myself firm until she accepted defeat. She grabbed her phone and stormed away, a hurricane of slamming doors and thumping footfalls.
It was a long time before I moved from that kitchen, staying out of her way until I heard her leave the house. I called her name once, twice, three times to be sure, and then, finally, when I was certain she gone, I made my way up to her bedroom.
Aimee’s diarywas easy to find. Too easy. It ate further at my unease. It was thinly disguised under a stack of paperbacks, its pink satin cover jutting out underneath like a deadly beacon. Maybe she’d wanted me to find it the whole time, only I’m not a sneaky fucking snitch.
I sat down on her bed, flicking through the pages. Yesterday’s entry was bookmarked, as good a place to start as any.
I’m drunk again. Really drunk. Beth and Stacy got in my face tonight, called me a skanky little slut. Beth said I’d been giving Richard the eye. Like fuck I had. He’s the prick who’s been trying it on with me ever since her birthday last September. I can’t stand him, anyway, his breath smells of eggs and by all accounts he has erection problems, Beth told me so.
Kyle was kind to me this evening, it even looked like he gave a shit. I tried to tell him who I am, what I want. Yeah, I know... fucking face palm city. He touched my knee, and it felt so fucking good. He sent me to bed, and like an idiot I wondered if he’d come after me. He didn’t. I followed him into his bedroom, yeah, yeah, what’s new? Only this time I went further. I watched him shower, and fuck, his ASS. It’s like steel...
A waveof nausea rose up from my gut. I scanned on, hardly able to read the words.
I watched him jerk himself off. It was so hot. Part of me can’t help but wonder. You know. Maybe, just maybe he was thinking about me...
I flicked backthrough the journal; pages and pages and pages of secrets that a man like me should never have access to. Through the nausea my dick was already hard, images of Aimee Rowley’s perfect little pussy spread open for me scorching my resolve, burning it to ashes. I found the entry six months earlier. The day I arrived in her life.
Mother has a husband. A fucking husband!! Out of nowhere, I mean what the fuck?! She dropped me a text message, a TEXT, to let me know I have a new stepdaddy. Fucking awesome. I wanted a stepdad my whole fucking life, and now I’m twenty she decides to marry some random? She’s such a BITCH. They are arriving home today, YES, to MY home, BOTH of them. Hey, Aimee, here’s your new dad. Like that’s NORMAL. Apparently his name is Kyle, and he’s some hotshot IT executive or some shit. I’m never going to be ok with this, EVER.
My blood turned to ice.Text message? Louise told her daughter about me by text message? I thought back to our wedding-day, our early morning conversation.
“Are you sure you want to do this now? What about your daughter? Wouldn’t she want to be here?”
Louise smiled, brushed it aside, as though it was the most ludicrous suggestion she’d ever heard. “Aimee? No! She’s a big girl, Kyle, she doesn’t need to be here. Believe me, Aimee won’t even care. She’s not that kind of girl.”
Seems Louise knew even less about her daughter than I did.
He’s here. Oh my God, he’s here. Daddy Kyle. I want to hate him, hate both of them, and I DO hate them, but it’s so much more fucked up than I thought it would be. He turned up with a suitcase, just like that. Held out his hand and said ‘Hi, I’m Kyle, but you can call me Dad’ like a real fucking comedian. He’s younger than Mother. Not much, but enough. And you know what? The thing I don’t get, after the ice-queen she’s been my entire life, the frigid, prudish, man-hating bitch she’s ALWAYS been, how the hell did she land a guy like him? He’s absolutely, insanely, ridiculously, obscenely, disgustingly hot. The guy’s huge, like HUGE. He was wearing a t-shirt and he is so fucking ripped you can see every muscle on him. His hair is so dark it looks black, apart from this tiny bit of grey he has above his ears, but even that looks hot on him. His eyes are green. GREEN under dark brows. He’s way out of Mother’s league. He shouldn’t BE here, not with HER!!!
I’m supposed to hate him, but now I just hate her even more. I expected to feel a lot of things with a brand new daddy in my house, but I didn’t expect to feel like this. I’ve never felt so jealous in my fucking life.
I’m crushing like crazy over my new daddy, the guy that’s fucking my mother. Can life get any more fucked up than this?
My hard-on disappeared,finally. At least there was some shred of morality in my filthy body. I was reeling, knocked for six. I flicked to a random page.
I’ve been horrible to Kyle-Dad for two whole months and he’s STILL here. I thought he’d have given up by now, fucked off back where he came from, but no. He hates me now, I know he does. Mother’s finally stopped parading him like a show pony. She hardly bothers with him at all. I haven’t seen them talk in days. She’s back on her phone again, planning trips again, like he never even arrived. I’m sure they’re not fucking, they act like they don’t even know each other.
I’m having nightmares again every night. I told Mother but she only snapped again, snarking that I should have grown out of them by now. I still haven’t told the bitch they’re always about her. She gave me some cash to sort out the shrink again, but I’m not going back there. I just wish I could sleep.
I spied Kyle typing his laptop password last night. Ladyluck69. There’s something about him I don’t get. He’s so serious all the time, but he never talks about his past, just comes and goes from work every day like he never had a life before this. I checked out his laptop but only for a minute while he was in the shower. He watches pornography A LOT, maybe even as much as me. If only he knew what I was really like. Maybe then he’d realise he married the wrong woman.
A few pages on…
I’m fucking a million randoms again. I can’t stop myself. I need to get HIM out of my system. It’s been ten times worse since I saw his porn stash. I look at it whenever I get the chance, like some weird crazy stalker. He’s so dirty, maybe even dirtier than I am. He’s watched this one video about twenty times, and it’s so fucking dark. A young blonde gets tied up in some basement and fucked by five different men. It’s one of the roughest vids I’ve ever seen. She takes two cocks in her ass and it actually makes her cry. They call her dirty names, and choke her and spit all over her, but you know what? She likes it. I know she likes it, I can see it in her eyes.
Just like he’d see it in mine.
I went to college for the first time in months. They’re threatening to chuck me out now, but I don’t give a shit. I didn’t go in for lectures today, just for cock. I sucked two at once outside our student canteen – two of the nerdy guys from library club. I stuffed their cocks in my throat until I retched up my dinner, and the whole time I wished he could see me, see what a dirty girl I really am.
Kyle’s all I think about. I just wish he’d be the big, dark daddy I want him to be. Maybe one day he will be, if I push him far enough.
Maybe one day he’ll lose his temper and put me in a basement. I’d love him to tie me up and fuck me until I cry. A girl can dream, can’t she?
I slammed the book closed,recoiling from its brutal honesty. My hands were shaking and clammy, and my insides were mushed up to shit. I wished I’d never read the thing, wished I’d never reacted in the kitchen and smacked the shit out of her. I wished I’d never met her, never met her mother, never been in Kefalonia in the first place.
No. That was a lie. I didn’t regret it.
But I may well regret what was yet to come.
I left her diary open on her bed.
The time for secrets was over.
I was staringat my bedroom ceiling when the front door slammed. I checked the bedside clock. Two thirty a.m. The clattering around downstairs made it clear she was drunk again, but I made no attempt to go down to her. I was still wide awake when she made her way to bed, hardly breathing as I heard her moving around in the room next door. Finally, she was quiet.
I must have been dozing when my bedroom door creaked open.
“Kyle?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”
I grunted, loud in the night. “I am now.”
Her scent hit me, dark cherry and vanilla. “You read my diary.”
“You wanted me to,” I replied, simply.
“I had a nightmare,” she said, moving closer. The air was like static, crackling in the space between us. “A bad one. You must have read about them?”
I cursed the blood in my veins, cursed the way I wanted her. “You’re safe, Aimee, nothing can hurt you, not in this house.”
“It can,” she whispered. “Everything hurts me in this house.” I stayed silent, willing her away. “Can I lay with you? Just a while.”
“This is a bad idea, sweetheart. You know it as well as I do.”
“Please...” she said.
She was so close, hovering by the bed in the darkness, illuminated by only the faintest glow from the streetlamps outside. I hated my own fingers as they pulled back the duvet. Hated my own hammering pulse, and the way I craved to consume her. She slid in beside me, clutching her knees to her chest to keep her distance.
“I’m sorry I’m such a bitch to you. I’m a bitch to everyone.”
“So, choose not to be,” I said. “Nobody makes you do anything.”
“You could...” she began. “You could make me do anything.”
I sighed, changing the subject. “You haven’t been going to college. Why?”
“I hate it there. I hate the people, hate the routine.”
“You need to go to college. It’s your future.”
“Who cares about my future?”
“Your mother does. I do. You should.”
“She doesn’t care. Not about me, not about you, either.” She let go of her knees, stretching out beside me. Her face was only inches away, close enough that I could feel her breath on my cheek. “Why did you marry her?”
I smiled in the darkness. “Love, of course.” I could almost feel her frown. “What do you want me to say? We got on, she was funny… driven… attractive. Our lives seemed compatible. I wanted a new life, a new start.”
“You talk about all that in the past tense.”
“Isn’t it past tense? She’s on the other side of the planet, you’re in my bed, her bed, talking about her like she was never here.”
“She’s never here. Not when it matters. Never has been.”
“I shouldn’t have hit you, Aimee. I’m sorry.”
“I wanted you to,” she whispered. “I always wanted you to. I liked you being my daddy, Kyle. I liked it.”
My cock betrayed me, my whole damn body threatening my resolve. My secret life itched at me, begging for confession. She can’t have seen the truth on my laptop, can’t have any fucking idea. I kept my silence. “What do you dream about?”
She sighed and rolled onto her back, staring up into the darkness. “I’m trapped in a dark room with no windows, nobody knows I’m there except my mother, and she’s laughing at me. She laughs as the walls start closing in. I’m begging her to help me, to let me out, but she never does. I wake up just before they crush me.”
“That’s dark.”
“Had them my whole life. Nobody would rescue me. Nobody even knows who I am, not really.”
My fingertips touched her elbow, the contact sizzling all the way through my arm. “You’re not alone.”
“There’s a darkness in me,” she said. “I can’t help myself.” Her breath turned shallow and raspy.
“There’s a darkness in a lot of us, sweetheart.”
“I lied,” she admitted, rolling her hip to the side until her thigh pressed against mine. “I haven’t had forty men... it’s a lot more than that.”
I tried to fight, but I was done for. My hand brushed the satin of her nightdress, and she moaned, writhing under my touch. “Why are you such a cock whore?” I whispered. “Tell me...”
“I’m in love with filthy, dirty sex,” she breathed. “I can’t help it...”
I trailed my fingers over her ribs, teasing my way up to her perky little tits. Her nipples were hard as bullets, standing to attention. “You’ll stop,” I growled. “No more cock, not unless I say so. You’ll go to college like a good girl, and you’ll stop with the spoiled little bitch act, understand?”
“Yes...”
“Yes, what?” I squeezed her nipple hard enough that she sucked in breath.
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Daddy’s a dirty man, sweetheart,” I said. “He’s so fucking dirty. He tries to hide it, but he can’t. He’ll do such bad things to you, Aimee, is that what you want?”
“Oh God… yes, Daddy, that’s what I want.” She parted her legs wide, hooking her calves around mine. “Make me your good girl...”
I mashed my body against hers, loving the way her curves melted into me. Her mouth was already open, hungry. Her tongue darted between my lips with beautiful ferocity, pulling me into her forbidden waltz. I pinned her hard to the bed, grinding my cock hard against the horny swell of her clit. She bucked, and writhed, squirming underneath me like a wanton little slut. I pulled away long enough to reach for the bedside lamp, and in the soft glow she revealed herself to me, beauty uncoiling.
“You have such sweet little tits,” I groaned. “Sweet little tits for my sweet little girl. Let Daddy have a taste.”
She arched her back for me, presenting her perfect little tits for my filthy pleasure. I played her with my tongue like a man possessed, gripping her nipples between my teeth and loving the way she squealed whenever I bit too hard. I carried on down, mapping a trail over the taut plain of her stomach to her sweet little cunt.
“Your pussy belongs to me now, understood? Only me.” She nodded, staring down at me with glazed eyes. “Let’s see how much of Daddy you can take.”
I spread her lips wide open, groaning at the sight of her gorgeous swollen clit. I sucked the pink little nub between my teeth, savouring the way she squirmed. The thought of all the cock she’d taken both irked me and fuelled me, spurring me to slam three thick fingers all the way inside her. She moaned without protest. “Good job Daddy’s got a big piece of meat for you, baby.” I slid in a fourth finger, and she tensed, gripping the bedsheets. “That’s better, sweet girl. That’s what you need.”
“Yes, Daddy...” she whispered.
“I hope you made those dirty bastards use a rubber.”
She groaned, with a sarcastic little grin. “Always. I’m not a fucking idiot, Daddy.”
I landed a slap right on her clit and she clenched her legs shut, squeaking in shock. “Don’t use that tone with me,” I said, climbing my way back on top of her. “Daddy’s going to fuck you raw. Always. I want to feel your sweet wet cunt around my cock.”
She wrapped her ankles high around my waist. Spreading herself wide. “Please...” she said. “Now.”
I slammed into her in one hard thrust, sinking right the way to my balls. I wasn’t gentle, but I didn’t need to be. Her pussy was well used to invasion, beautifully wet as I ploughed her deep.
“God, yes… God!” she screeched. “Yes, Daddy! Fuck me! Fuck your dirty little girl!”
“Beautiful baby,” I hissed. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
Her pretty little mouth groaned perfect expletives. Her eyes fixed on mine, gorgeous pools of blue sucking me right into her. I stroked her hair, kissed the delicate white of her throat while her pussy milked me dry. She bucked as I unravelled, moaning her pleasure as my filthy seed unloaded inside her.
“Good girl,” I praised. “Such a good girl.”
I pulled out and lowered myself until my face was between her thighs. She was swollen, glistening wet. I teased her with my lips, savouring the dirty mess of her.
“Grab your knees, sweetheart.”
She did as she was told, holding them high to her chest and offering up the tight puckered ring of her asshole. My tongue wormed inside, lubing her up for my fingers. She took two without argument, but squirmed as I pounded her cunt with my other hand, pressing in four fingers as far as they would go.
She mewled a glorious mixture of pleasure and pain.
“Take it for Daddy,” I said.
“Ow…” she moaned. “It hurts.”
“Not as much as two big cocks, baby,” I said. “You’ll take two cocks for Daddy, won’t you?” They were the words she needed, just as I suspected. She grunted, despite her pain, rocking herself against my intrusion. “That’s my girl. You want more?”
An incomprehensible sound, half feral as I stuffed another finger into her asshole.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Aimee. Come for me.” I balled her clit with my free thumb, mashing the hard little nub until she was wheezing for more. I strummed her to the edge, ramming her deep and hard, so hard she’d feel me for fucking days.
“I’m gonna come!” she squealed. “Yes, Daddy, please, please, fucking fuck me!”
“Good girl,” I groaned. “That’s a good girl.”
I didn’t pull out until she was long spent. She was perfect in the glow of the lamplight – sprawled wide open, limbs loose and her breaths loud in the room. I rolled to her side, pushing down the regret before it could bite me. Our breathing calmed in unison, the scent of sex heavy in the air.
“So, what happens now?” she asked finally, her voice nervous and shaky.
I hadn’t got a fucking clue.
Guilt hit me hard,but not in the way Aimee expected. Despite the rational voice of regret in me, I didn’t pull away. Sure, Sunday was tense, heavy with unspoken words, and I’d catch her staring at me whenever I turned in her direction. I was keeping a lid on my churning thoughts, watching TV when she curled up beside me, the very tips of her fingers grazing my thigh.
“Do you really love her?” she asked. “Do you love my mum?”
“I have a lot of respect for Louise,” I said. “She’s a very ambitious woman. A driven woman.”
“Are you going to tell her about us?” Her lip trembled, so pretty. “I’m scared.”
I pulled her hand into mine. “Let Daddy worry about that, sweetheart.” I smiled. “And you’d better get ready for college. Things are about to change around here.”
For once in her spoiled little life, Aimee didn’t argue.
I might bea filthy dirty fuck, but I really did give a shit about that girl. She’d wormed her way under my skin, well and truly. Now she was actually showing it to me, her smile was contagious. She slept in her own bed that night without too much of a fight, accepting the rule that Daddy would choose when she deserved his touch and when she didn’t. I have to say she fucking amazed me. She was a world more obedient than the pouty little brat I’d taken her for.
I kissed her forehead as she left for college next morning, laying down the law that I’d expect a full progress report at the end of every day. No boys, no drinking, no cheeky fucking mouth. Those were the new house rules, and they were non-negotiable.
My dirty girl was home straight from class, bouncing through the door with a vigour I’d never seen from her.
“How’d it go?” I asked. “Teachers remember your name?”
“Lecturers,” she said. “Not teachers, I’m not at school.”
“Lecturers then,” I smiled. “How was it?”
She shrugged. “It was ok.”
“And they let you back to class without incident?”
“Sure,” she grinned. “I told them I’d be a good girl from now on.”
My dick twitched. “And how’s your pussy?”
The little beauty grinned at me. “I can feel you’ve been in there… Daddy.”
“Good,” I said. “Sit down, Aimee.” She sat at the dining table with only the slightest hesitation, looking up with puzzled eyes as I presented her with her diary. “You’ll do your study and then you’ll do another assignment.”
“Another assignment?”
“I want you to write for me, an essay. Aimee’s secrets,” I explained. “I want to know what a dirty little girl like you really wants to do. Not the fantasies you’ve written before, I’m not interested in masturbation fuel. Real fantasies, Aimee, for real life.”
I watched her suck in breath, her cheeks flushing rosy as she slid the diary back over to me. “I don’t need to write an essay,” she said. “My diary is the truth. For real. I want to do everything in there.”
I battled the urge to bury myself in her asshole.
“We have a few weeks,” I said. “A clear house until your mother is home. I intend to use the time well.”
“And what then? What happens when she’s back?”
I smiled. “Curiosity killed the pussy, sweetheart.”
I wonder if Kyle likes men. In real life, I mean, not porn. Would he pound my wet little pussy while another man stretches my ass? Or does he just like that shit on screen? Please, God, one day can I find out?
My threesomes have been shit so far. Pathetic little boys who wanted to take it in turns. They’re all so afraid of other men’s dicks, like another cock is a threat to their fragile masculinity. I need an older man, someone who knows how to fuck. Someone who can free the dirty little whore inside of me.
What does he see in my mother? Really? What can he possibly see in her?
If only Aimeeknew what I could see in her mother. If only she knew the reasons why I’d married the woman on a beach. If I told her the real story, she might never want to speak to me again.
I slammed Aimee’s diary shut as Steve from HR approached my desk. Not a-fucking-gain.
“Kyle,” he smiled. “Do you have a minute?”
“What now?” I snapped. “Haven’t you had everything from me ten times over?”
“I need to ask you a few more questions,” he said. “I know you covered it all with the management team, but I need a writeup for the file.”
I sighed in exasperation, on the edge of my temper. “How many more times do we need to go through this crap?”
Steve’s happy expression turned sour. “Until the company is happy you no longer pose a threat to security.”
“I had an addiction to online gambling, not military level hacking. Jesus Christ.”
“You know the regulations, Kyle.”
I held up my hands. “Fine, whatever. Let’s get this shit over with.”
I braced myself for another shitty day in paradise.
Any resolveI had to play the good wholesome guy with Aimee was gone when I stepped in through the door. My day at the office had been a frustrating shit show, and I was fed up with the humiliation. People make mistakes. It’s life. Just how long was I going to have to suffer for mine?
My stepdaughter could read my mood. She presented me with a cup of tea and I gave her a thanks. I was impressed by how well she knew I liked it, considering she’d never made one for me before.
“Good day?” she asked, even though the answer was obvious.
“I’ve had better.”
She sat opposite me at the dining table with a tea of her own.
“Same. College was shit today. People were laughing at me.”
My attention turned from my own bullshit straight onto hers.
“How did you handle them?”
She was so quick to defend herself.
“I was good, I promise. I didn’t bitch back.”
“Good. Let them be dickheads if they want to be. They aren’t worth your time.”
She didn’t look convinced. “It was much easier when I’d give them a middle finger and be a bitchy little cow right back at them.”
“It may seem it, but being quiet and self-assured says a lot more for your confidence than lowering yourself to their level.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely,” I assured her. “They aren’t worth shit compared to you.”
She laughed. “How do you know that? You’ve never even seen them.”
My shrug was casual. “I don’t need to, sweetheart. I know you.”
She put her mug of tea down, staring over like I’d just told her the moon was made of cheese.
“What?”
My tone was still casual.
“I know you, Aimee. I know what you’re worth, even if you don’t know it yourself. You’re a great girl who can go on to achieve great things, even if you can’t see it in yourself yet.”
“Thanks,” she said, but it was weak. Vulnerable.
I stared across the table at her, surprised to see how much my words had touched her. I wondered, genuinely, whether anyone had ever shown they truly believed in her.
“I mean it,” I told her. “You’ll go on to great things. You’re a great girl who needs to realise it for yourself. The assholes at college don’t have a fucking clue what they’re talking about.”
I was surprised when she wiped a tear away, trying her best to hide it.
“What?” I pushed. “What is it?”
“I just…” She sighed. “I just wonder what would have happened if you’d have been here sooner… if maybe I wouldn’t have been such a slut.”
I sat back in my chair. “You think being a slut is a sign of failure?”
“Isn’t it?”
“No. Being a bossy cow who is rude and snarky and won’t let people care about her is what your problem has been. Not the fact you enjoy cock.”
That made her laugh through her tears.
“Yeah, well, thanks for your insight, Daddy. At least you’re giving me one cock to enjoy more than eighty others.”
The glint in her eyes was back. Filthy and wanting, despite her tears and vulnerability. It was an absolutely gorgeous combination.
“Come here,” I said. “Let Daddy give you what you need.”
I hoisted her up onto the table when she reached my side, hitching up her skirt to show her panties. I tugged them aside, adoring how wet she was. Her pussy was definitely ready for me, she bucked against my thumb as soon as I pressed it to her clit.
“Have you been thinking about me?” I asked her.
She nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
“I’ve been thinking about you, too,” I said, and worked three fingers inside her.
My sweet little baby was ready to come for me in no time, grinding herself against my hand like a dream. She was a treasure to watch as she leant back and spread her legs wider, letting me take what I wanted.
I wanted her pussy around my dick.
I lowered my pants and thrust inside her in one.
“Good girl,” I whispered, and she liked that. It made her squirm. “That feels nice to hear, doesn’t it? Being told what a good little girl you are.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Daddy’s got a present for your hungry pussy,” I told her, and pushed a finger inside her along with my cock.
She moaned but didn’t protest, spreading her legs even wider.
“Want more from Daddy?” I asked, and she nodded.
“Yes, please.”
I forced another finger inside her. Two in her pussy along with my dick. Fuck, it made her so damn tight.
“Is this a fantasy in your diary? Having your cunt stretched nice and wide?”
She nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”
“That’s a good girl,” I whispered, and I kissed her. I kissed my stepdaughter like she was my baby girl and my horny slut, both at once. Hot and wet, gentle and loving, in a weird combination.
It felt really fucking good.
She came, but I didn’t. She was panting as I pulled free, but I was still hard.
“Daddy’s turn,” I said, and slapped her thigh, ordering her onto her front for me.
I fucked that girl for hours, her ass and pussy eager for whatever I was giving her. Every word of praise I offered lit her up in a golden glow, making my heart thump along with my cock.
Maybe Aimee could really be a good little angel. Maybe she’d been hiding behind a veneer of bitch her whole life, because she just didn’t know any better.
I was sure planning on finding out.
I let her stay in my bed that night, and she curled up close beside me.
“No nightmares for you tonight,” I whispered, stroking my fingers up her arm.
“I hope not,” she said.
“I know not,” I told her, and kissed her forehead.
I’d enter her dreams myself to rescue her if I needed to.
Work was a shitter,like usual, over the next few days. I hated every second of condescending crap they threw at me, but today had been particularly difficult – hauled into meetings all afternoon where they debated my worth.
I took it out on my stepdaughter the moment I got home, but not in the bitter way I’d pummelled sluts before. This was different. We were different.
My angel was getting to know me well, just like I was getting to know her.
Aimee slurped on my cock like a good little girl, staring up at me with big blue eyes. I forced myself deep into her throat, holding her head tight until she gagged and retched, jerking in my grip. I was high on aggravation. Pissed off with life, the world and everyone in it. She was the recipient of my frustration, and an eager one at that.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I groaned. “Love Daddy’s cock like he needs you to.”
Her head bobbed with renewed effort, eyes glinting with heat as she stared up at me.
Four days of hot stepdaughter pussy and I was already a wreck. She was an addiction, invading every waking thought. The floodgates had truly opened, months of forbidden lust spilling out like an oil slick, coating my whole fucking world. I was listless at work without the deep fear of dread, not caring shit for office politics and all the usual bullshit. I’d also been ignoring the estate agent’s calls. Completion of sale, I figured, on my piddly last apartment. The last part of me.
I yanked the chain around Aimee’s neck, breaking the contact.
“Stand for me,” I said. “Give Daddy a twirl.”
She did as commanded, ever more the obedient subject. Her babydoll dress kissed the tops of her thighs, veiling the smooth little slit I craved so badly. I stopped her mid-twirl, lifting the lace to admire her smooth backside. I gave her a healthy slap, craving the bloom on her skin.
“Yes, Daddy...” she purred.
The girl was insatiable, just like me.
“Bend, baby, let me fill you up.”
She folded at the waist, gripping her ankles to hold herself in position. I pulled aside the lace of her panties, breathing in the heady scent of her. I teased her hot little pussy with my tongue, only stopping to suck her soft rosy lips between my teeth. “Come for Daddy,” I murmured.
My instruction was so beautiful in its simplicity. Come for me, just like that. I felt her shift her weight, relaxing into the privilege. God, how I buried my face in that cunt like she was my only salvation. Maybe she was.
I felt the sudden urge to confess all. Cough up my woes to my dirty angel and tell her what a loser Daddy really was.
Hey, baby, Daddy used to be a big shot. He used to have ten houses and a Porsche. Daddy used to have a villa in Spain and a sailboat off the Devon coast. He used to fuck a different woman every night and only drink champagne from tight, young pussy.
That’s who Daddy was. Until Daddy lost it all in the financial crash.
Until Daddy tried to save his fortune by online gambling.
Until Daddy became an alcoholic loser. Playing online poker in company time.
Daddy was almost bankrupt. Almost homeless. Almost unemployed.
Until Louise Rowley.
“Daddy?” Aimee wheezed. “What’s up with you?”
“What?” I grunted.
She stared back at me, eyebrows high. “You stopped.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And?”
She turned away. “Sorry, I just... never mind.”
I slapped her ass again, harder this time. “Don’t question me.”
“Sorry...” she breathed. “You just told me to come for you, and then stopped two minutes later. Is it some weird test or something?”
I jabbed my thumb in her asshole, steering her away from my inconsistency. “I want your dirty little hole around my cock, Aimee, understand?”
I slumped back in the armchair, working my dick as she positioned herself over me. “Whatever you want, Daddy,” she giggled.
She impaled herself with brutal determination, gasping as my cock spread her wide. Her face was a picture, teeth gritted hard in concentration, eyes closed tight as she adjusted to the intrusion. I twisted my fingers in the ring on her collar, pulling her forward enough to plant a hot wet kiss on her open mouth. I bucked underneath her, bouncing her easily on my hips until I was buried all the way inside. She groaned into my mouth, begging for more. Harder, Daddy, harder. Dirty bitch.
“Finger your pussy,” I said. “Deep.”
She pushed one skinny little finger inside herself, hesitating far too long before taking another.
“Three,” I said. “Take three and I’ll let you ride another cock. You’d like that wouldn’t you? Two big cocks in your tight little holes.”
Yeah, we’d been talking about it – running through the fantasies in her diary.
Clearly, she did want two big cocks in her tight little holes. It was littered right the way through the pages, and her face lit up at the thought. She fucked herself like a trooper, grimacing for just a second as she forced her three fingers all the way in. I loved seeing her that way. Loved seeing her exposed and filthy, free in her darkness.
“How does it feel, baby?”
“It hurts,” she hissed. “Good hurt.”
I could feel myself veering off the rails, heading for the cliff of self-destruction. She was all that was left, my final toy, my only remaining indulgence.
The only sound between us was the slap of her thighs against mine. I twisted her sweet little tit in my hand, gripping her hard. She threw her head back, rolling into my attack. “Fucking hell...” she moaned. “Jesus Christ, I’m gonna come so hard.”
Aimee was a wreck. A bucking, wheezing, twitching wreck, jerking around on my cock like a fish on a line. I exploded along with her, shooting my load all the way inside her filthy little ass.
She caught her breath, moaning as she raised herself from my cock. “Ow,” she cried. “Fucking ow!”
Her eyes met mine, full of questions. The questions that kept on coming.
“What will happen to us, Kyle, once mother gets home? You are married to her.”
I could see she was getting nervous, and that was growing worse and worse every day. I knew why, and I was feeling it, too.
Too invested to stop.
Too in love to stop.
“I’m well aware that I’m married to her,” I said, flashing my wedding band, feeling another bout of frustration at the memory of a beach marriage worth sweet fuck all except for the girl sitting on top of me. She was worth a whole lot more than that.
Aimee pushed it further today.
“What you gonna do? Wait til she comes home and say what? Hey, honey, good trip? I’ve been fucking your daughter all the time you’ve been gone, how about a divorce?”
I pulled her into my arms, peppering her forehead with soft, wet kisses. “Leave it to me,” I said. “Daddy knows best.”
I just knew she was rolling her eyes.
I feltbad lying to Aimee, but I’d made a promise. A sworn-to-secrecy promise I had no intention of breaking.
I’d never intended to go down the love road, but I could feel it brewing beneath my skin. I’d never intended to go down the stepdaughter-sex road either, in fairness, but the love road was a whole leap further. Isn’t life fucking bizarre? One minute you’re at each other’s throats and the next you’re cosying up for meals-for-two. They say love and hate are a hair’s breadth apart. I guess they aren’t kidding.
She’d slept in my bed that night, and every night since. I’d fallen asleep with her soft curls in my face, the scent of her all around me. That had never been the plan either. We were off plotted terrain, stalking out in the wilderness.
I was about to take it a whole lot further. I was about to give her the fantasy she’d been dreaming of. One time – now or never.
My phone buzzed on my desk at work.
I knew who it was.
Message from Daddy’s girl.
Are you serious?
I’d left the note in her college bag, knowing full well she’d find it bright and early.
Deadly.
I sent my reply and waited for the ping. It arrived in seconds.
I don’t even know if he’ll come. I don’t know if he’ll want to.
I smiled as I keyed in my response.
I’m sure you’ll tempt him.
Another ping.
I don’t know if I can.
I could see Steve the HR asshole heading my way again, leaving me just enough time to fire off my final message.
I have utmost faith in you, sweetheart.
I letmyself into the house quietly, listening for signs of success. A pair of brogues in the porch told me all I needed to know. She was such a good girl.
I crept up the stairs, taking care not to make my presence known. Not yet.
I pressed my ear up against her bedroom door, and sure enough I could hear her soft groans. The groans I’d come to crave so fucking badly.
My phone was tight in my hand, camera ready at my fingertips.
The look of surprise on Mikey-boy’s face was priceless when I burst inside. I snapped several decent pictures before he’d had chance to register what was happening. Aimee smiled pretty for the camera, making damn sure his cock was inside her in every shot.
“Surprise! You’re on candid camera!” I laughed. “Poor little Imogen. I don’t think she’s going to be a happy bunny when she sees these little beauties.”
“What the fuck?!” Mikey boomed. “What the fuck’s this shit?”
“Cheaters never prosper,” I smiled. “Never. Especially not when they end up plastered across social media.”
He pushed Aimee to the side, reaching for his jeans. “You set me up, didn’t you? You got me here on purpose.”
“Sorry,” she said, then pointed at me. “Daddy made me do it.”
“This is fucked up,” he snapped. “Really fucked up. What do you want from me?”
I sat down on the bed beside them both, loving the way he recoiled. “Funny you should ask,” I smiled. “Cock is what I want.”
His expression was full of disgust. “You want my dick? I don’t swing that way, man.”
“I don’t want your dick for me,” I said. “I want it for her.”
He pulled his shirt over his head. “She’s already had my cock. You’ve got the pictures on your fucking phone to prove it.”
“Mikey,” I said. “It is Mikey, right?”
“Mike, yeah,” he said, suspiciously.
“Ok, Mike. My beautiful stepdaughter isn’t like other girls. She needs a bit more...” Aimee’s eyes were on fire, full of adoration. “Have you ever had a threesome, Mike? Two guys, one girl?”
“I’m not like that,” he snapped. “I don’t do guys.”
“Neither am I,” I said. “But I tell you one thing, Mike. There isn’t much that feels better than a girl spread wide, riding two cocks at once. Look at her.” I gestured to Aimee. “She’s so ripe for it. Don’t tell me you aren’t tempted? Which do you want? Pussy or asshole? Take your pick.”
He scowled, but shifted, looking from me to Aimee and back again. “This is fucked up. Aren’t you her dad or some shit?”
“Stepdad,” I said. “For what it counts. It works for us, it can work for you, I’m sure.”
“And you’re up for this, are you?” he asked Aimee. “Is this why you brought me here?”
She nodded, fixing him in her most alluring smile. “Come on, Mikey. It can be our secret. We’re good with secrets.”
“No shit.”
Slowly she moved, stalking like a cat until she was on him, freeing his cock from his jeans. “You’re hard,” she grinned. “I knew you would be.”
Her hand worked its magic, and his own cock betrayed him. Story of every man’s life. “Fuck,” he groaned. “What’s the deal? If I go along with this, you’ll delete those pictures?”
“Yes,” I confirmed. “That can be another little secret.”
Mike seemed to relax, slumping back against the headboard as Aimee made herself comfortable on his lap. She ground against him like a lap dancer, shooting me a pretty smile over her shoulder. “I’m not into guys,” he groaned. “I mean it.”
“Touch her,” I said. “Forget I’m even here.”
The envy in me was divine. It coursed through my spine as I watched Aimee at play with another man. She was a siren, snaring him so perfectly that he never stood a chance. Sweet Jesus. I watched her intently, savouring every gasp of pleasure, every twitch of her perfect body. When Mikey was in his stride, his face buried deep between her thighs, I made my move. He shot me a look but didn’t object as I took my place beside her. I’d done this before, more times that I cared to count, but not when it mattered.
Today it mattered.
Today it was all about Aimee.
For all the jibes I’d made at his expense, the guy did ok. He was half decent with his tongue, enthusiastic enough to bring her to her peak with a little fumbling. A firm pinch of her nipples toppled her over, and she juddered between us, a beautiful flower unfurling in her splendour.
I stroked my knuckles along her cheekbone, smiling down on the girl who’d possessed me. “You ready for this?” I whispered.
Her smile told me all I needed to know.
Mikey gawped at the pair of us, awkward and stilted. “Relax,” I said. “You’ll take her pussy, I’m sure you can manage that.”
“I dunno about this,” he muttered, but already he was leaning back into position, easing her up onto him. Aimee was on his cock in a heartbeat, finding her groove as she circled her hips in fluid motion. I watched the tension in her shoulders, the beautiful curve of her spine.
She jumped when I placed a hand on her back, guiding her forward to lay on Mikey’s chest. She shuddered as I ran a finger down the tight groove of her ass, moaning as I eased my thumb inside, working her wide.
I positioned myself, the hard slap of Mikey’s balls against mine adding to my excitement. He was too horny to notice, and far, far too horny to have cared. My mouth was at her ear, breath hot on her skin.
“Ready, baby?” I whispered.
“Fuck yes,” she groaned. “Take me.”
She was tight. Really, really fucking tight. It hurt her, I know. It always hurts first time. Her grunts were wild, shoulders hunched as I worked my way into her tight little ass. I could feel the ridge of Mikey’s cock against mine, so fucking good.
“Shit,” he groaned. “That’s fucking epic.”
“Harder,” I said. “Fuck her, Mike, show her what we’ve got.”
Mikey surprised me, more of a man than I took him for. He pulled her flat to his chest, slamming his cock deep and using her shoulders as leverage. “You like this, huh?” he barked. “Like two cocks in you?”
“Yes!” she squealed. “Fuck me, Mikey! Fucking fuck me!”
We pounded her in a harmony of sweat and grunts, giving her everything we had to give, and she took it all like a good little slut. Her ass was like a vice, milking me hard, but I kept my cool, kept ploughing her until she was a quivering wreck, jerking between us and mewling nothing but filth.
“I’m gonna fucking shoot,” Mikey wheezed. “Get off me, Aimee, I’m gonna fucking blow.”
“I’m on the pill,” she said. “Just come, Mikey, fill me up.”
White hot rage exploded behind my eyes. Envy, and ego, and dirty fucking lust erupting in a fountain of filth. I shot my load with him, filling her tight little ass with everything I had to give her. Fuck.
She twitched and collapsed, out of breath. I pulled out, dick spent, leaving her gaping raw. Beautiful.
Mikey was up in a flash, senses restored. He pulled on his clothes and grumbled incoherently. I smiled as he hovered by the door, not quite willing to go.
“I’ll delete them,” I said. “Don’t worry.”
He left without another word. It amused Aimee no end. She laughed in post-coital bliss, lost in a sea of endorphins.
It took her a few minutes to realise I was seething.
“I thought you wanted it too!”she cried. She followed me into the bathroom, her face pressed up to the glass as I took a shower.
“Not that, Aimee. You let another guy shoot his load in your pussy.”
“I didn’t think it would upset you,” she said. “I didn’t know!”
I couldn’t bring myself back down to rational thought. I was too fucking angry, even though I had no damn right to be.
“A rubber you said, always.”
“This was different! I didn’t think! It didn’t seem such a big deal.” She yanked the shower door aside and forced her way in. “I said I’m sorry, ok? I won’t do it again.”
“No, you fucking won’t,” I snapped, my head returning to sanity.
“Am I forgiven?” she asked, risking a smile.
I ached to say no and tan her hide with the belt, just because I could.
“Wash him the fuck off you,” I told her.
She grabbed the body wash and lathered it right the way between her thighs. I smiled as she grimaced. “Stings like a sonofabitch.”
“Was it everything you hoped for?”
She threw me a smile, a genuine glint in her eye. “More than I hoped for. Way, way better than I dreamt of.”
“Count yourself lucky, sweetheart,” I growled. “Because I’m not so sure I’ll want to share next time.”
“Wow, Daddy!” she laughed. “Are you jealous?”
I reached for her body, mashing her tight against my chest. “You’re mine,” I said. “All of you. I don’t want another man’s mark on you. In you. Only mine.”
She pouted. “No fun, spoilsport. You know I love you best.”
I lifted her up, pinning her against the tiles. “Say that again.”
Her smile was pure wickedness. “I love you best, Daddy.”
“Prove it,” I groaned.
She proved it all fucking night long.
“Is this really love?” she asked. “For you, I mean.”
Aimee was a very different creature from the girl I’d met six months earlier, even after a few short weeks. She looked up from her laptop, eyes sincere without the slightest hint of brat. I was at peace, finally. No guilt remaining. The time I’d spent with her had been some of the best I’d ever had. She laughed, and teased now in the most light-hearted of ways, much more like the twenty-year-old college girl she deserved to be. Sometimes the greatest transformations happen in the greatest darkness.
“Do you want it to be?” I smiled. “I’m twice your age. A greying, old bore with a penchant for filthy rotten sex.”
“You’re not a bore,” she said. “And I like the grey. It’s distinguished.”
“You don’t know me, Aimee, don’t know the things I’ve done.”
I’d been holding off the inevitable. Holding back the truths that needed saying.
She grinned. “Show me your diary, then. Let me into your darkest secrets, Daddy.”
I was out of time, and I knew it. We had only twenty-four hours before Louise was home. Time to come clean. Now or never.
“Let’s do it, then,” I said to her. “Let’s talk.”
She looked surprised, hearing the seriousness in my words.
“Sure. Ok.”
“My confessions are much simpler,” I told her. “I don’t love your mother. I never did.”
She pushed her laptop aside, attention all mine. “I just… wow. Why marry her, then?”
“Necessity,” I admitted.
“Necessity?” Her eyebrows were pitted, trying to understand.
Here it was. For real. Now or never.
“I’m a loser, Aimee. A wash-out. A complete and utter failure.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t lose the flow of my momentum, just kept on ploughing towards the truth.
“I was on my final warning with work when I took that trip. It was my last-ditch attempt to save my job and become part of the team again.”
“Did you steal some office stationery or something?” she smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood.
“Hardly stationery, baby.” I took a breath. “I overextended myself financially before the market collapsed, buying property to let like it was going out of fashion. I stood to lose everything, my houses, my car, my holiday home and all the trappings of status that went along with them. I was a desperate man trying to save my fortune, that’s why I did what I did.”
She didn’t even blink, just stared over at me with curious eyes. “What did you do? What is it that you did?”
“Gambling,” I said. “I was trying to catch a lucky break. Aren’t we always? Instead I ended up with massive debt and an addiction I couldn’t control.”
“Ladyluck69,” she said, her smart brain clicking together the pieces. “Your laptop password is Ladyluck69.”
“Yeah. It was my poker pseudonym. Didn’t turn out to be quite so lucky.”
“So you had a bad streak? So what?” she shrugged. “No big deal, right?”
“I’ve got nothing left, Aimee, just a poxy downgrade job with the management breathing down my neck every day.”
“Does Mum know about all this?”
I laughed. “Of course she knows. I had nothing when I met her, just a suitcase of clothes and a soon to be repossessed apartment.”
“I don’t get it,” she said. “So, she loved you but you didn’t love her?”
I tipped my head. “How likely does that scenario sound? Neither of us loved each other. It was a deal we both wanted at the time.”
She frowned, weighing it up. “I don’t understand. Why get married, then?”
“I got a new start. She got a husband.”
She shook her head at that, taking it hard.
“But why?! I’ve wanted her to get a husband my whole life, Kyle. I wanted it more than anything, but it didn’t matter shit to her then. I figured maybe one day I’d have a proper family, and maybe then she’d love me. Maybe then I’d be good enough, but I never even saw her with a man until you, even though I wished for it. Then she rocks on up one day with a meet Daddy!” She paused, shaking her head. “I thought I was so fucking stupid, for even thinking she’d give me a daddy one day. For even wanting a daddy one day.”
“Not stupid,” I said. “Normal. Everyone needs love, Aimee.”
“Yeah, they do, I just never had any.”
I wondered how it would affect her, knowing what a loser I really am. My eyes met hers, searching, and she saw it. She read my mind.
“You really think I give a shit about the fact you met my mum with nothing but a suitcase? I’ve always had money, Kyle. It doesn’t mean anything to me. What I need is someone who’ll hold me through my nightmares and ask how my day went. Who’ll expect me to behave like a civil human being and put me in my place when I don’t. Who’ll look at me like I’m the hottest, sexiest piece of ass he’s ever seen, and ravage me like a monster, that’s what means shit to me. If you think your little I’m broke confession is enough to put me off then you’re a fool, Kyle. A stupid fool.”
“You can do better than me,” I smiled. “A lot better. Look at you, sweetheart, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.”
“I didn’t have a life before you! Nothing that meant anything. I was a dropout too, remember? On the edge of college expulsion without a single clue what I’d do with the rest of my life.”
I took her hand across the table, squeezing her fingers tight in mine. “You’re sure this is what you want? You’re sure you want me and us and a life together?”
“Deadly sure,” she said. “Another stupid word and I’ll put you over my knee, Daddy.”
She had me, finally, coaxing a smile despite my better senses. “This sure is love for me, baby girl,” I said. “It’s yours if you want it.”
“I want it.” She squeezed my fingers right back, brushing angel curls from her eyes. “Now, tell me about my mother... why the fuck did she suddenly want a husband on a beach one day?”
Oh shit.
Some truths were yet to be told.
My wife Louisewas furious when I gave her the rundown of the past few weeks, but not for the reasons anyone would have expected. She didn’t give a shit about me boning her daughter, or about me confessing my financial insufficiency. As usual, Louise Rowley cared only for herself, and her guarded little reputation.
“Let’s get this straight, Kyle!” she snapped. “I leave you alone for three weeks. Three poxy weeks to keep up appearances, and in that time you manage to fuck my daughter, spill your guts about your unfortunate predicament and tell her our marriage is a sham. That’s good going, congratulations.”
“You could see it that way,” I said. “Alternatively, you could examine the facts. Aimee is back in college. She smiles these days, and she does her assignments without question. She doesn’t drink, doesn’t screw randoms whenever you’re not looking, and has embraced an all-round happier demeanour.”
“Well, fucking bravo,” she snipped. “Wonderful. Let’s have a celebration, shall we? Champagne and cake, anyone?” She pulled a face, like she wanted to crush me under her boot. “All she’s ever wanted is a big, hunky dad on the scene. I got one for her, finally, and she takes his dick at the first opportunity. Good job I didn’t really love you, isn’t it? The little madam would have wormed her way in regardless.”
“She’s not stupid,” I said. “She knew you didn’t love me.”
“Lucky guess.”
“Not a lucky guess. She does know you, Louise, she’s lived with you for twenty years. Well, on paper anyway.” I sighed, running my hands through my hair. “Why don’t you just tell her about Helen? She’ll understand. This isn’t the middle-ages, they don’t burn lesbians at the stake.”
“Not on the surface, no, that would never do, but behind the scenes I’d be the talk of the town. I’d never hear the end of it at work.”
“You’d hardly be the talk of the town, and about the work thing, who really cares? Nobody would give a shit, Louise.”
“I care,” she said. “It’s easier being married, Kyle. None of the old pervert clients hit on me anymore. One flash of my wedding ring and all extra commission propositions fall flat on their faces. I feel freer than I’ve felt in years.”
“Not free enough to be with the woman you love, or to be honest with the daughter you should love.”
“I do love Aimee,” she snapped. “Of course I do.”
“So, talk to her,” I said. “She might surprise you.”
“Thanks to you I have no choice now, do I?”
I weighed it up. “Probably not.”
“This doesn’t leave this house, understood? Not a bloody word of it, Kyle. If we’re lucky, we can keep this contained, play happy families for anyone who’s watching.”
“And what if I really did want to get married one day, Louise?”
She laughed. “You’re a free agent, aren’t you? There was no actual wedding, Kyle, in case you’ve forgotten. Marry who you want, just don’t tell the world about it.”
“Sure thing, Mrs Priestley,” I smiled. “I’ll keep the peace, but I’ll be expecting Helen at dinner next Sunday. It’s time we all had a fresh start. Let’s work on the happy family thing, shall we? For real this time.”
“We’ll see,” she said.
I guessed that would have to do.
“I really like Helen,”Aimee said, draping herself across my lap. “She seems super, super nice.”
“Your mother actually smiled today,” I laughed. “Did you notice?”
“I put it down to trapped wind, but I think you may be right. More of an upturned mouth than a grin though, I’d say.”
I laughed. “It’s a start.”
“A good start,” she laughed too.
It was a beautiful thing to see unfolding – the new family dynamic. Louise and Helen already becoming so comfortable around each other, and Aimee enjoying her time with them. To be honest, I was too. Maybe Louise wasn’t quite the cold-hearted bitch she painted herself out to be.
Aimee grinned at me. “So, Mr Priestley, now we’ve got the house to ourselves, what are we doing this weekend?”
“I haven’t decided,” I smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see.”
“How about I decide for once?” Her eyes were mischievous, sparkling with delight.
“Now now, Aimee, you know the rules. Who makes the decisions around here?”
She rolled her eyes. “Here we go again.”
She poked her tongue out, laughing as I caught it tight between my fingers.
“Hmm, maybe you’ll get to decide this weekend,” I said to her. “Since you’ve been such a good little girl this week.”
That was what my gorgeous angel was turning out to be, more than anything, and she always would be. For ever. For better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health.
Aimee Jane Rowley would always be my good little girl.
--The End—
