Chapter 4

FOUR

CAL

I leave my stepdaughter on her own after I grab all three of her bags. I'm not ready for this, whatever this is. My cock has been hard as cement since I saw her, the second my eyes met hers, even from the distance. Instant chubby. She does that to me, with the grief of Sandy's passing from brain cancer slowing ebbing further and further in the tide of grief, Carrie has come more and more into my thoughts. After we married we realized we were in love with the idea of being in love. I wanted a partner, hated being alone and Sandy wanted a father for Carrie. I helped her through her cancer treatments and surgeries until the doctors said there was no more they could do. So then it was be with her until the end, be the husband she needed.

I go to the master bedroom, going over to the bar I set up, a mini fridge next to it for days like today. Pain and tired of life. Tired of fighting. And right now, tired of everything.

Opening the fridge, I pull out a can of beer, moving over to the chair I have sitting by the sliding door leading to the balcony. I stare out into the garden Sandy had made when we first got married. It's still the same way she set it up. The gardeners keep it up every week, exactly like she wanted.

I stretch my legs out, crossing them at the ankles, leaning my head back against the chair, trying to ignore the one, who shall remain nameless in her room I want to pretend isn't here. I can't. She lives in my nightly dreams. She takes up residence in my heart, in my soul.

All I can think of is what a dirty old man I am, wanting a twenty-five year old girl, perving over her. I unzip my jeans, pull my briefs down and hope if I do this I can get her out of my mind.

Closing my eyes I imagine her in front of me, her hands on my naked thighs. I hum at the touch of her soft hands. The only thing better than this is the real thing, this will have to do because if I have my way, I will never have the real thing.

In one hand I grab my dick, my other cradles my balls, fondles them tenderly, imagining my hand is her mouth sucking them into her mouth one at a time, her tongue laving them. I tug my dick and she tongues the tip of my cock, swiping at the slit.

I widen my legs giving myself more room, giving imaginary Carrie space to kneel between them. She gazes up at me, her eyes big and blue and innocent. I gulp when she lowers her head taking me into her mouth, her tongue licking at the underside. I grab the base, my hand pulls harder, the blood throbbing through my dick, I fist my other hand in her hair, forcing her to take me all the way. This is the best jack off session I've ever had with my hand. Knowing she's only a few doors away, makes it even more real. Maybe taking a shower, changing her clothes, getting naked.

Groaning, I grip my dick harder, stroking faster and faster, imagining she's choking on me. I let her back up, coughing and gagging, spit stringing from my cock to her mouth. My pretend self runs my hand down the back of her long, honey blond hair, petting her. "Good girl."

She sips in a whiff of air, I yank her up to me, my lips hard on her now red lips, our tongues colliding. I pull her up, sitting her on my dick, letting her slowly slide down until she's fully seated. We wait, my breath clogs in my throat, some sound that can possibly be a sob I would never admit to, whines out my throat along with my last breath. I grab her shoulders, my nose in the nape of her blond hair, pulling in the scent of her along with something that might be peaches and her own special sweat. God, I want to lose my nut right now. Not sure how long I can hold on but I want to string this feeling out as long as I can. This feeling of want and need is so good and so bad at the same time.

Her arms wind over my shoulders, my hands find her hips and I start bouncing on my dick. She helps, her head thrown back, imaginary Carrie eyes are closed in the rapture of the moment. This isn't as good as the real pussy would be, it's a good second best. I've never had such a good jack off before. God, I needed this, it's a sickness, a sickness of every cell, every muscle, down to the very marrow in my bones. She's an insidious drug digging into my brain trying to obstruct every sparking synapsis into one that won't let anything else in. Only her. Otherwise, how else can I be sitting here, my dick in my hand imagining my hand is her tight, slick pussy.

I continue my fantasy of tongues and slick pussy and a perfect nutting. I'm close. So close, more. I want more.

Thrusting back in, she rises on her knees and falls down, impaling herself back down to the base of my dick. Back up and down, thrust up and release, we're a carnal, sweaty mess. Well I am.

Her eyes gape wide at me, mouth open with hard pants huffing out, shrill whines echo with every hard thrust in I make. "Yes daddy. Yes. Harder daddy."

I stiffen and cum shoots out my tip. I'm an evil, dirty man but a well-satisfied evil, dirty man.

Slacking back in my chair I open my eyes and Carrie stands staring at me with wide, shocked eyes through the sliding doors out to the balcony that spans both rooms. Fuck. I've lived here so long by myself I forgot the balcony covers three bedrooms.

Her pink tongue comes out, licking at her lips in a slow, thoughtful motion, her hand reaches out to grab the handle. I stare in shock as the object of my obsession walks into my bedroom, slightly hesitant, a complete fucking vision. Jesus Christ is all I can think at the moment. What do I do now?

My tongue is attached to the roof of my mouth which is dry as the Sahara Desert. Carrie continues walking into the room, my hand holds my now soft dick starts stiffening fast as she stares at me, my cum drying on my shirt.

One step at a time she comes closer and closer and she's standing beside me staring down, her teeth abusing her bottom lip, a little dip between her eyebrows that I know means she's worried.

"Carrie, what are you doing in here?" I try to play off what she saw as nothing, as if what she saw never happened, although I'm in such shock she's in here I haven't even zipped myself back in. Which I hurry and do.

"I--I wanted to see the garden from the balcony. I turned left, it looked like I'd have a better view. I glanced in through the doors and watched you---you…" She glances away and turns a deep red, coloring her ears as well.

"You didn't see anything." I insist, standing and turning away so she can't see my face, see the guilt, the disgust I feel for myself. I don't know how I'm going to deal with her here, I'll have to stay away as much as I can, I know I won't have the strength to hold myself back. I walk to the open glass door and out onto the balcony, staring out onto the garden Carrie wants to check out.

The guilt really starts eating at me for ignoring her for almost two years. Even though she was an adult when Sandy died, she still lost her mother. She lost me, her father or I was the one who cared for her. Disciplined her when she did something wrong, the only male presence in her life. I can't do what I crave, I have to stay away no matter what, no matter the temptations.