Rent-A-Daughter – Part III
I didn’t plan on it, but when we saw each other again, once more we took things to a new level. In my apartment, she started to undress again like it was an everyday thing, which I guess it was becoming. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” I asked warily. “Getting naked?”
“It’s a little weird,” she admitted, one hand hooked into her panties, the only thing she had left on. “But it’s kind of fun, too. Though I guess I’ll miss dressing up, that was fun too.”
“You can still do that,” I said. “And you don’t have to get all the way naked if you don’t want to.”
“But you want to see me, right?” I couldn’t tell if she wanted to please me or wanted me to be pleased by her.
“Yes,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean you have to be all naked all the time. Even a little is… well, more than I ever dreamed. If you wanted to stay in panties, or wear, say, the Supergirl costume without panties, it would…”
“Make you want to masturbate?” she supplied.
I was going to say “be fine,” but shrugged at her answer. It was honest, anyway. She pulled the panties down and then raised each knee to free her feet.
I made no move to get undressed this time, considering the way she seemed to stare and be especially aware of how hard I was at any given time. I thought it was because she was uncomfortable, despite her suggestion yesterday, which I chalked up to curiosity, that it was weird if she was the only one naked. Boy was I wrong.
“So, do you want me to get you… what was it we were due to be reading next, Wonder Woman?” We were getting close to up-to-date with the regular single-issues in Ultimate Spider-Man so had been spacing out the last few trade paperbacks by reading other stuff in between. I’d picked up a few trades of Wonder Woman before I met Maddy, because I liked the new writer’s prior run on Birds of Prey, and while looking through my books recently found them again, thought the mythological aspect might appeal to her, and suggested it during Beach Day. She seemed interested at the time.
“Sure, but, ummmm, aren’t you going to, you know, get naked too?”
“I don’t think so,” I explained. “It’s really not right for me to let you see me like that. I mean, it’s not right for me to see you like that either, but… when you started undressing I couldn’t resist. But like I said, if you want to put something on, you can, too.” I took a breath. “I won’t say you can’t come back if you’re not going to get naked, even partly naked. That’s unfair.” It was easy for me to be noble when she had already admitted she thought it was kind of fun.
“Umm, okay,” she said, hesitated, and added, “but, I, umm, kind of wanted to ask if I could watch. You know, watch you masturbate?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Please?” she asked with hopeful eyes that made me just want to melt and give into her every demand. “I’ve never seen what it looks like.”
“Maddy, I’m just trying to look out for you…”
“Please?” she said again. “I’ll show you how I do…” She spread her still bent legs once more, aiming her pussy right at me, and then began rubbing it. She didn’t touch her slit directly, or at least not very much. Instead, her parted fingers ran along the sides, pressing down and pressing the lips together. She did this several times in a row, while all I could do is stare, transfixed at this little girl, my pretend-daughter, masturbating in front of me.
She seemed to smile a little at my staring, but it seemed like an innocent smile, like she couldn’t believe it worked. Finally, she said, “So, Daddy, are you going to show me?”
I don’t even remember doing it, but I was so hard and the offer seemed so natural that pretty soon I had taken my dick out of my pants and was stroking it rapidly. Maddy spun around on the couch so that she could get a closer look, but I could still see her hands working between her legs.
“Can I touch it?” she asked.
“No,” I said. “It’s not a good idea.”
“I just want to know what it feels like,” she said.
“It’s not like I haven’t felt it before.”
That shocked me enough into slowing my pace. “What?”
“Not with my hands, but sometimes I’d feel it, like when we were play-fighting, or when you spanked me, and you were hard.”
That answered one of my long-standing questions, but rose others. “So you always knew I was attracted to you?”
“No,” she said with just a hint of confusion.
“But you know what being hard means…”
“Yeah, but I just figured I brushed against it. That’s how it works, for guys, right? If you accidentally touch it gets hard?”
Well, that explained it. “Sometimes, I guess, if it’s unexpected, but usually there has to be some attraction first. It’s mostly thought that does it.”
“Oh,” she said, considering this new information. I wondered if she had experienced other guys hard-ons after she accidentally touched them, and was now evaluating what that meant. Instead, though, she asked, “What do you think about?” she asked. I was getting close to climax. In ordinary circumstances, I might have only just begun, but this wasn’t an ordinary circumstance, it was practically a pedophile’s wet dream. “While you’re doing it?”
“You know what I’m thinking about,” I said, a little grumpily. “Things I shouldn’t be thinking about.”
“About me?” she asked.
I nodded. “What do you think about?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t really think of anything in particular, it just feels good when I rub it.” After a few more seconds, she said, “What would you want to do if I said you could?”
“We shouldn’t really be talking about this,” I said. “This is hard enough as it is.” She giggled at my unintended pun. “No, I mean it,” I said. “It’s like if I was hungry and you started talking about food, and I know I’m not allowed to eat… it makes me feel more like I’m starving.”
“Well, if you’re starving…” she let that dangle and asked, “I mean, I just don’t want to do sex… but if you ask for something I can give, maybe I can give you a bit of what you want. Just a bite.” She laughed nervously. “Unless you just want sex and that’s it.”
I was nearly reaching my peak, and that’s what made me ask, “So what would you let me do?”
“I don’t know, what would you want to do? If I said you could do what you wanted except sex?” I was too afraid to answer. “I’d guess you’d want to touch me and stuff, right?”
“If it’s just touching, I think we can try that.”
No touching was required, my cock began to feel like it was humming and a pressure built up along the shaft with surprising force. Soon, I was saying, “Oh, shit,” and my seed started to shoot out, beating out even the feeling of orgasmic bliss, which only happened to me when I was on the edge and something pushed me over without warning, which I guess is what happened there, when Maddy told me she’d be willing to make one more of my naughty dreams come true.
I made a small puddle of semen on my floor, which I only noticed after I came back to myself. Surprisingly, to myself, at least, I was still pretty hard. That hadn’t happened since I was a teenager.
Maddie’s giggle almost made it shrink again. “You look funny when you did that,” she said, and then made a weird face, rolling her eyes up in her head a little, I guess approximating my O-Face. I shrugged nervously, and she continued. “So are you going to touch me, or what?”
I thought for just a second. “No,” I said. If I was still fully aroused, I might not have been able to resist, but right then, even though I was still a little hard, I was more in control of myself.
“Oh, I get it, you don’t want to anymore since you just…” she looked down at the puddle. “You know.”
I ducked into the kitchen to grab a paper towel, thinking what I want to say. “No, I want to, but I’m not going to. It’s not right.”
“I’m telling you it’s okay,” she said with a little bit of exasperation.
I crouched down to wipe up the mess I left and said, “Maddy, you know that I do care about you, right?”
Her hand, the one in her crotch, stopped moving. It was only in the absence that I really noticed that she was still stroking herself, albeit much more slowly than before. “You do?”
“Yes, very much. I love having you around, and not just because I find you attractive. I care a lot about you.”
“You mean, like a daughter?”
“I guess, yeah. Or maybe just how like two people can care about each other. I don’t ever want to see you hurt, and I just want all your dreams to come true.”
“So what does that have to do with anything?”
“Because I’m trying to look out for you. I’m not doing a very good job of it, but I’m trying.”
“But I’m telling you it’s okay.”
“You might not think that in the future.”
“So future-me gets more right to decide what’s okay than now-me?” She shrugged. “Sounds stupid to me. Anyway, I don’t think future-me will have a problem with it. I mean, you’re paying for me to be here, you might as well get your money’s worth,” she joked.
I winced instantly at that. “And that’s another thing.”
“What is?” she asked as I dumped the paper towel in a garbage bag hung from a closet door.
“I’m paying you. What we’ve done already is dodgy enough, but you could call it modeling, I guess. But if I pay you to let me touch you sexually, well, that’s prostitution.” I shook my head vehemently. “And I will not be responsible for you committing an act of prostitution. I care about you too much.”
“But you’re not paying me to touch me,” she said. “You’re paying me to be here.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s the same thing, since I wouldn’t be touching you if you weren’t here, and I’m paying you to be here.”
Maddy wrinkled her forehead in thought, and then said, “Okay, then I won’t charge. I mean, I like coming over here anyway. I wish I could get paid for it too, but I care about you too, you know, and I mean if you’re starving and if you want to touch me and this is what’s stopping you, then I guess I don’t need the money that badly.”
I’d meant it as a last ditch effort to get her off the idea, but it seemed like she was frustrating my every attempt. It was like some Bizarro-world comedy, the pedophile trying everything he can to avoid touching a little girl, and the girl practically throwing herself at him.
I couldn’t do it anymore, and when Maddy said, “So now can you touch me, right?” I broke, and slowly shuffled toward her.
She lay back and stretched herself out on my couch, arms and legs extended, allowing me the access to touch whatever I wanted.
It seemed to take an eternity, but finally my hand made contact with her shoulder. You’d think skin wouldn’t feel very special, you’re covered in it, but when it’s someone else’s skin and they’re someone you’ve fantasized about, it’s like there’s an electric charge running through you when you touch it. The charge only increased when I swept along her collarbone and then descended to her breast. She made no move to stop me, so I proceeded, and soon, with one hand, I was cupping her small breast, giving it a squeeze. I could feel the bone underneath the slight padding, and I could feel the nipple… when my fingers first grazed it, it was nothing but a slight disturbance of the perfect smoothness, but then as I held the breast, I could feel it harden, tighten.
That made me bolder, the thought that she was enjoying it, not just letting me do something but actually wanting it. So, I let my hand drift down, running over her ribs like a staircase, rounding her belly and that cute little outie, and towards her mound.
I heard a sharp intake of breath before I got to it and paused. “If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” I said.
“No, it’s okay, just… don’t try to go inside, okay?”
I nodded and smiled, and my fingers crossed over into hot pussy territory. I say hot pussy territory and mean it, it felt like it must have been at least a few degrees above the rest of her body temperature, and also softer than even the soft skin of her belly. I rubbed my hand up and down, avoiding the slit, and kneaded a little, somewhat mimicking her own masturbation style.
I’d crossed another line, the one that divided being a pervert who touched, once, in the heat of a moment, from being a full-on child molester, even if the child in question didn’t seem to mind being molested. She seemed to spread her legs a little wider, in fact, as though to give me more access, and when I looked over to her, her eyes were half-closed and not looking at anything in particular. It almost looked like she was asleep, but enjoying a really good dream.
At least there was still the line between the molester who did what the child allowed, and the one who did what she asked him not to. To that end, I followed her instructions and didn’t try to dive my fingers inside her crack, no matter how much I wanted to, and instead just massaged the mound area for a few minutes while she lay there, squirming a little but not in pain or fear, just pleasure.
I probably could have done it for hours, just enjoying her own enjoyment, and I was so entranced by what I was doing that I was surprised when I felt the light play of fingers on my shaft. She’d reached out and touched me back, more, she wrapped her hand around it and squeezed gently. I pulled my hand off her and looked down at the sight. “Is it okay? I just wanted to feel it…”
“Hey, if I can touch you, you’re certainly entitled to touch me,” I said.
“You do it like this?” she asked, and pumped her hand up and down my shaft a few times, very slowly.
It’s been my experience that, no matter how well intentioned, a girl can’t give a hand job that feels as good as masturbation. It’s hot because she’s actually doing it, but the angle’s a little wrong and the pace is off, and overall the sensation pales to what you can do to yourself, with years of practice. That said, Maddy’s tentative little stroke probably came as close to heaven as any girl before. It just needed a little practice. “Yeah, just a little faster.”
I let her increase the pace, until she said, “You know, you can keep touching me, if you want.”
I wanted to believe that meant she wanted me to, so I returned my hand to her pussy. I couldn’t do everything I wanted because she told me not to go inside, so in essence, it was something like a pussy massage, while she stroked my cock. I think her growing quivering turned me on more than her hand on my dick, but pretty soon, I was feeling another climax approach. “Faster,” I suggested through nearly gritted teeth, and she picked up the pace.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m about to cum.” I said it to give her a chance to pull away, but she didn’t, though she did stop and just held it still, and soon I was squirting again… more of a dribble, actually.
She giggled as it ran down her hand. “It’s warm.”
She pulled her hand away from me and brought it up to her face to take a good look. What she did next surprised me, she extended her tongue and put it right in the creamy mess on her hand.
Her reaction was immediate, and nothing like in my fantasies. She scrunched up her face and drew back. “Eww,” she said. “It tastes nasty.”
“Sorry,” I said, feeling more guilty for that than for the fact that I was molesting her. I’d stopped touching her while I was cumming, and I would have resumed it, except she sat up and curled up her legs towards her body. “I never said you had to taste it.”
“I know, I was just curious. People actually do that, right? Drink it?”
“Some,” I said. “Mostly in porn, but that’s not always reality.”
“Can I have some coke to wash out the taste?”
I nodded, and she ran to the kitchen, first to wash her hand, and then to get a can from the fridge. I cleaned up whatever had spilled on the floor.
She returned, gulped some of the cola, and swallowed with a refreshed gasp. “I’m sorry, but blowjobs make no sense. I don’t know how anybody could do that when it tastes like that.”
I smiled a little, trying not to take offense. My last girlfriend claimed not to like the taste either. “Well, it’s like a lot of things in sex, you do it to give pleasure to somebody else. When you’re ready to do it with a guy, maybe it won’t matter so much.” I shrugged. “Besides, you only really taste the cum at the end, if he shoots in your mouth, right? If you don’t want that, and a guy cares about you, he’ll pull out before then.” I really didn’t think ‘the guy’ would ever be me, which I guess was pretty naïve of me.
I got dressed, then, and Maddy put on her shorts and panties but continued to sit around topless, as though it was nothing unusual. We read some comics, watched some TV, including a special on Atlantis, which got us talking and went to look up some of the theorized locations on Google Earth. Actually, we started just searching for Atlantis, but that just gave you the city in Florida, so we looked at places rumored to be the site, like the Azores, Thera, even a place in Northern Spain that was new to me, and checked out what they looked like, in some cases on the ocean floor. She sat almost in my lap in the computer chair and, now that she’d given me permission, it was hard not to let my hands roam to her breasts while she typed or used the mouse. She didn’t seem to mind, but she didn’t comment either way, so after a little soft rubbing I let them drop, and that was the extent of the touching for that day.
Once she was gone, the guilt cycle returned, but I knew now that I wasn’t going to be able to stop unless she asked me to. Still, I tried to be good, and the next time she came over, I didn’t initiate anything, and unlike last time, neither did she. She didn’t even undress right away. She was wearing a small green ruffly skirt and a white t-shirt on top, and made no move to remove either, apparently having taken to heart my promise that she didn’t have to be naked to come here.
I was a little disappointed at the time, both about that and, especially after how we started things yesterday, that the one time watching me masturbate, and even helping the one time, seemed to have satisfied her curiosity, but I guess Maddy was also trying not to sound too eager. We were a little awkward the first couple minutes, until I decided to just forget any hope of touching, that she’d either changed her mind or she wasn’t in the mood, and so we should just behave like our normal Daddy-Daughter encounters.
We went into my office to choose a new comic to read that day (she wanted to go back to Spider-Man since she knew all the characters), and she sat down on the couch and opened it up. After I’d given up all hope that anything would happen today, she brazenly spread her legs in such a way that you could see under the skirt and said, “If you wanted to, you know, touch me again I guess you could do it while I’m reading.”
Like I said, I knew I couldn’t stop unless she stopped it, and she was doing quite the opposite. I even told myself that she had to have liked it before and wanted it again, because otherwise, what kind of person would offer that when she didn’t have to? She just didn’t want to seem obvious about wanting it, maybe out of fear for looking like a slut, and so instead acted like she was doing me a favor.
Given the new theory, I thought a request would go over well. “Okay,” I said. “Do you mind if I take off your shirt? Your breasts are very beautiful too.”
She let the comic lie and raised her arms, letting me pull it up and over her head. “Should I take the skirt off?”
“No, I can work around it.” Actually, I liked it how it was, it seemed dirtier for her to be wearing just a skirt rather than nothing at all.
“Just, remember, don’t go inside,” she warned, and went back to looking at the comic.
I sat on the floor beside the couch, and let my hands roam around her legs and pussy, mostly massaging, and staring, enjoying the sight of that magical little slit as the area around it started to redden with the contact. I didn’t have as easy access to her chest, for sometimes she raised the comic in such a way that blocked it, but the pussy, it seemed, was all mine.
I could have felt it for hours, but I was getting that ineffable scent off it, very faint but distinctive and alluring. It’s probably as much a feeling as a scent, like your head swimming or you’re just about to faint, probably as a result of pheromones, but there’s a sharp, tangy smell that goes along with it, far more intense than what I’d smelled on her panties in earlier days. So powerful that when I smelled it, I wanted to do more. So, nervously, I asked, “Umm, Maddy, do you mind if I use my mouth a little?”
She looked up from the book and at me. “What do you mean?”
“You know, like, kissing, and licking. I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.”
“Oh,” she said, and seemed to take a few seconds to think about it. “It’s all right, I guess.” Her eyes went back to the comic, but a few seconds later I caught her giving me a sidelong glance, wanting to see what I was doing.
I sat up on my haunches and planted soft kissed first along her upper thigh, then going high, pushing up her skirt a little so I could kiss all the way up to her belly button, but finally descending towards where I most wanted to kiss, her mound. Still I hesitated, going around the slit but not actually on it.
Maddy’s breath was becoming more intense, but when I looked up, she was still reading the comic, or pretending to, so I let loose my tongue, again just to the side of her slit, but I couldn’t resist any longer and my next lick was right down the middle. I heard a sharp gasp, followed by a nervous giggle. “That kind of tickles,” she said.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“No, it’s okay, I know you like it.” She shifted position, though, so she was sitting up against one of the edges of the couch, legs stretched out, instead of lying mostly on her side. It was as though she wanted to look more directly, but still wanted the excuse. She held the comic in front of her, but low enough that she could easily look over it to watch what I was doing, and I came to notice she didn’t turn the pages very often, either.
I put my tongue into action, enjoying the taste, like it was pure, distilled innocence, and enjoyed even more the effect I was having on Maddy. I tried to hold to her rule of “don’t go inside”, but with a tongue, that’s a little ambiguous, because it can’t penetrate as far even as a finger. I mostly worked on the edge of her labia lips, and avoided the hole itself, but once or twice I did lick just inside.
She didn’t say a word about it. In fact, she didn’t say a word at all, but there were little vocalizations of pleasure and every so often she would thrust her hips upward towards me, but I really knew I was having an effect when she threw her head back, and, seconds later, tossed the comic to the side, abandoning the pretense of reading and instead just watching what I could do to her with my mouth.
I took that as the signal to focus more on the clit, first licking around and just breathing on it, then occasionally a soft kiss on it, which made her twitch and moan, and finally, I couldn’t resist and wiggled my tongue around it. She squealed, a sharp, high pitched, “Eeeeeeeeeeee…..”
Her whole body tensed up for what must have been a few seconds, and then she relaxed and slumped in the couch. I pulled away, feeling proud of myself. “I’m sorry Maddy, I got a little carried away… I hope you don’t mind.”
“That,” she said, taking a breath and starting again, “That you can do anytime you want.” She laughed. “I didn’t mind that at all.”
“Did you have an orgasm?” I asked.
“I think so. I mean, I’m not really sure but… it’s supposed to be like the best feeling ever, right? If that’s not one then I can’t imagine what a real one is.”
She was speaking all excitedly and her enthusiasm was so infectious that I smiled a silly, dopey smile, while I stood up. “I’m glad.”
A few seconds later, the excitement faded for a moment and she asked, “Did I taste… bad?”
“Not to me,” I told her, honestly. I had briefly thought about telling her that she did, but that it was more important to make her feel good, in the hopes that she’d reciprocate, but deep down, I never wanted to lie to Maddy, or worse give her a complex.
If I was wrong and there was a God, he was a pervert who respected honesty, because my decision was almost instantly rewarded. She saw the bulge in my pants and said, “So I guess you want to go masturbate now.”
“Yeah, kind of.”
“So you can have an orgasm too.”
She was silent for a second, and I was about to turn away and go to the washroom to do it, but she suddenly said, “If I let you put it in my mouth, do you promise to pull out before you shoot?”
I was too aroused, wanted it too much, to tell her she shouldn’t do it at all. After spending so much time looking and licking and inhaling the pheromones she was giving off, I wanted something. “I promise I’ll never do something you don’t want me to do.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll try it. But just once.”
I took off my pants, quickly, partly afraid she would change her mind. For a second, she did seem like she might have had second thoughts, as my dick bobbed in front of her, but she closed her eyes, leaned forward and opened her mouth wide, tongue extended. It seemed pretty much like an invitation, so I closed the gap, and felt the underside of my penis slide on her soft tongue on its way into her mouth. The head brushed against the sides of her mouth on its way in, and after I was inside, she closed her lips.
We held that position for a few seconds, mainly because I wanted to make sure she had no complaint, but she didn’t seem to be bothered. She didn’t seem to be especially into it, just sort of blank. I slid in and out a little, and her head bobbed sympathetically. “Maddy?”
She pulled off me entirely. “Am I doing it wrong?” she asked with an adorably concerned look on her face.
“No, it’s good, it’s just, can you move your lips up and down a little? Kind of like you’re sucking on a popsicle.”
“Oh, okay.” This time I didn’t have to put it in myself, her lips resumed their position and started sliding, just a little.
It certainly wasn’t the best blowjob I’d ever received, and she didn’t even ever get more than halfway down, but seeing her beautiful face on the end of my cock was a memory that I’d cherish forever. I put my hand on her hair and stroked her lightly, saying, “Oh, God, Maddy, you’re so beautiful.”
As horny as I was, it was only a few minutes before I felt the pressure start to build to an explosion with the inevitability of a runaway train, and I remembered my promise. “Okay, Maddy,” I said. “I’m about to shoot.”
She pulled off quickly and backed away, but still had her eyes fixed on the end of my dick. I turned away from her, groaned a little, and gave it a few last strokes of my hand while my seed fell upon the floor.
After I was done, my dick dripping just a long strand towards the ground, she asked, “Why did you have to use your hands at the end? Didn’t I do it good enough?”
“Oh, it’s not that, Maddy, I promise, you were great. It’s just…” I searched a moment for a good way to explain, my mind still muddled a little with post-orgasm fuzziness. “When guys ejaculate, it feels so much better if there’s still stimulation going on. Since I’d pulled out of your mouth, I had to use my hand, that’s all.”
“I hope that wasn’t that unpleasant for you,” I said next, feeling a little guilty again, knowing she hadn’t wanted to do it.
“It wasn’t so bad,” she said, looking down at the mess. “I mean, it didn’t really taste good, but not bad, either, like the white stuff. So, you had an orgasm?”
“Yeah, that’s what shooting out means, for guys.” At least, usually.
“Does it feel like mine do?”
I smirked. “I don’t know, I’ve never felt what you felt. I’d need to be like Professor X to know that.”
“Right,” Maddy realized with a giggle.
“But I’m sure it feels very similar.”
“Okay, well, I’m glad I gave you one. I guess I don’t mind using my mouth to give you one sometimes if you don’t mind using yours to give me one sometimes.”
“That sounds… pretty fair,” I said, but in my head I was doing a happy dance, the guilt washing away. It was more than fair, it was practically a dream come true.
Later that day, while we were done with sex and just talking Madeline pointed out that school was ending in a few weeks.
“So, you all ready for your final exams?” I asked, trying, and failing, to remember if final exams were a big problem at her age, or if they were just another test.
“Yeah, I think so, but, I was wondering…” She stopped. I looked over at her, until she continued. “Well, since I won’t have school, and it’s not like you’re paying me any more… can I just hang out here, during the day?”
“I’d be happy to let you, Maddy, but you do know I have work to do…” I’d been structuring my days around Maddy’s visits, waking up earlier and doing work before and after she was gone, but if she was going to be here all day, I couldn’t do that.
“I know… I can entertain myself. I mean, at home I’d just be watching TV anyway, but I thought I could do it here, and read comics, and maybe when you’re not busy we could hang out. Please? I’ll do it naked if you want…”
The thought of her hanging out in my apartment all day, naked, willing to be touched and, as of today, to give me blowjobs… “No,” I said. “I mean, yes, you can come over, as long as your parents won’t get suspicious…”
“They won’t,” she insisted rapidly, overjoyed that I gave her a ‘yes’.
“But if you’re naked all day, I don’t think I’ll get any work done at all.” She giggled. “So you should probably wear some normal clothes or something.”
Regardless of that suggestion, I got a lot less work done when summer came around. Luckily, my bosses didn’t seem to notice… it helps to be the top guy on the database, the people employing you don’t really understand what you do, and so they only really notice you’re not doing your job when things start to go wrong, and very little did. I just didn’t do as many of the optimizations and anticipatory work I usually do, most of which I could catch up on at other times.
Instead, when I wasn’t needed for a specific task, I tended to hang out with Maddy, watching movies, chatting, or reading comics. She quickly ran through my total collection of Ultimate Spider-Man, so I started buying other comics just because I thought she might like them. It was only fair, I wasn’t paying her any more.
We did more sexual touching too, but not every day, and when we did, it was only a small part of the day. Mostly, in fact, it was just when affectionate play and touching would sometimes lead to other things.
One time that I’ll always remember was when we were playing dress-up again, with Maddy playing Supergirl. She’d just started reading the comics, which I bought for her, though she didn’t like it as much as Spider-Man or, her more recent favorite, Thor. I’d bought a trade of that one a long time ago, intending to give it a look, but never got around to reading it. Maddy picked it off my shelf and really took to it, more than Wonder Woman or Teen Titans. But Thor didn’t have any girl characters with an easy-to-buy costume, so she still dressed up as Supergirl, with one difference. Now, she completely skipped wearing the panties. With every quick movement her skirt would lift and I’d see a flash of ass or pussy. If Supergirl really dressed like that, she’d be a shoo-in to distract her foes.
Suddenly, and I can’t remember exactly what sparked it this time, she decided again that I was a criminal who needed to be apprehended, and chased me until I let her catch me and drag me to the ground. “Now what am I going to do with you?” she asked the air. “If I take you to jail, you’ll just bust out again.”
“I don’t know,” I said, unable to suppress a grin. “Just as long as you don’t make me taste your Kryptonian super pussy or something…” Please don’t throw me in that briar patch.
“Hmmm,” she said with a grin. “You know, that might be a fair punishment.” I was already mostly lying on my back, and slid down all the way as Maddy crawled over me, pinning my hands down over my head to prevent me from escaping.
It was one of those little ways reality is just a bit disappointing compared to fantasy. In fantasy, when I considered scenes like this, I had a perfect view of Supergirl as her perfect pussy descended on me. In reality, her skirt fell over my head, so all I got is a very brief shadowy look as she descended, then mostly darkness with a red tint. But darkness never smelled or tasted so good. I couldn’t talk and I couldn’t move the skirt out of the way myself without breaking out of her grasp, which would have been easy but not as fun.
My tongue worked feverishly, and soon she relaxed her grip on my hands, so I could move them to and up her sides, and pull her skirt up… but as I tried, she was already turning. I felt a hand on my crotch as she reached almost behind her. “What’s this?” she asked. “Some kind of weapon, I bet. I’d better disarm it.”
She reversed herself on me once again giving me a brief, shadowy view of heaven before I was back under the red skirt. At least now I had my hands free to lift it a little, which wasn’t as great a view as it would have been before, but at least seeing her ass was better than darkness, and this time there was extra compensation. Zip went my zipper, my underwear was pulled down, and a soft hand exposed my dick to air. Madeline shook it back and forth, and then bent down to take it in her mouth. Reality began to win out over fantasy at that point, as she sucked me and my tongue delved into her crack. It felt incredible, every time I made her moan I could feel it echoing into my cock.
Finally, that old feeling began to rise, and I knew I hadn’t much time. “Maddy, I’m about to…” I said, or tried to, but her pussy mashed itself into my face when I tried, so I couldn’t warn her, just continue to lick.
I exploded into her, and for once, she didn’t pull away. She must have decided that since it was in her mouth anyway, she might as well swallow rather than risk it getting all over her face, or all over my pants. I was glad, and even if it was all psychological, for there was no way my dick could know, it still felt so much better knowing that it was going down her throat.
Finally I was spent and she pulled away from me, sitting upright on my face. “I swallowed it,” she said excitedly. It was the first time for that.
“I know,” I said, took another lick, then managed to pull away long enough to say, “I’m proud of you baby.”
“It didn’t taste as bad as I thought,” she said. “I guess I didn’t really taste it much at all until the end.”
I couldn’t exactly answer back, but continued trying to make her feel as good as she made me feel. That took a few more minutes, but finally she began to moan and let off a little squeak, then her high pitched squeal, as her body, and especially her butt, tensed up, and I knew she was done. I gave her a gratuitous series of kisses on her pussy while she exhaled deeply and regularly a few times, laying on top of me, and then she got off me. “Well, I hope you’ve learned your lesson about trying to take over the world,” she joked.
“I did,” I said. “I totally did.” If that was the punishment comic book supervillains got, no wonder they kept trying instead of just giving up and making money in the private sector.
It was starting to look like a pretty glorious summer, at least for me. I had what seemed like a dream come true, for someone as fucked up as me. I had a great daughter, someone who made waking up in the morning seem worthwhile… but I wasn’t a great father. Not just because of my pedophile tendencies, but because I took everything for granted, and never really stopped to wonder why Maddy wanted so badly to spend time with me. I never noticed the most important thing going on in her life, or figure out that she was clinging to me because her own world was falling apart.
I found that out with a sudden, urgent knock at my door. I’d heard the sound of her fist too often to not realize it was her, but there was something different about it too, it was more desperate somehow… and, also, it was a Saturday. We only spent weekdays together, because her parents were out all day. For her to be knocking late on a Saturday afternoon, something had to be wrong.
It was. I opened the door to find Madeline, red-eyed and wiping a tear away. “Can I come in?” she asked, sniffling, her voice on the edge of cracking.
“Maddy, what’s wrong?”
Instead of answering, she just cried out, “Please?”
I took a look around the hallway, worried her parents might step out at any moment, but decided that she needed to talk, and stepped away from the door to allow her entrance, then closed it behind her. She moved mechanically over to my couch and sat listlessly. I sat beside her, watching her. Her mouth opened, as though to speak, then closed again. “Maddy?” I asked, really starting to get worried, but not sure how to help. It was one of the ‘daddy experiences’ we never rehearsed, how to comfort a daughter in distress. For a second I wondered if that was exactly what she was doing, giving me that experience, but no, it was all too real, nobody was that good an actor. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” She nodded, but a minute or two passed in silence. “Do you want a hug?” She nodded once more, and this time tears filled her eyes, and she moved over to me and put her arms around my neck. I put mine around her back and held her tightly as she began to sob.
Finally, the crying stopped as she took in one breath, and in her exhalation she managed to get it out. “They’re divorcing.”
“Oh,” I said, my heart sinking in sympathy. “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.” I held her tighter, thinking of nothing more than comforting her in her hour of need.
After a while, she seemed to stop shaking, and added, “He threatened to leave before, he always threatened but…”
When she didn’t finish, I supplied, “You never thought it would actually happen. I’m sorry, Maddy. I know how much that sucks. My parents split when I was about your age.” I cried a fair bit myself at the time, and it was a fairly amiable split.
“Yeah. And I hated it… but, in the end, it was probably for the best.” She might not be ready to hear that, but it was true. “Better they be happy apart than together and miserable and fighting all the time, right?” Especially for the last years of their lives, in my parents’ cases.
She finally pulled away from the hug, but still sat very close. “I don’t care, I don’t want things to change.”
“Nobody does,” I said. “But nobody can stop it either. But there are good parts to change, too, even bad ones.” I struggled to find one. “You’ll get twice as many birthday and Christmas presents.” It was a cheap cliché, but I hoped it might make her feel better.
She sniffled a little, and then muttered, “No I won’t.”
“Sure you will. My parents practically spoiled me. I guess they thought it was a way to prove who loved me more.”
She was quiet for about half a minute, and then said, “I’ll probably have to move.”
I had my own little sense of fear of loss hit me then, but I knew it was nothing compared to hers. “Even that can have its good sides. I mean, I’d miss you like hell, but maybe you could still visit once in a while, and meanwhile, you get a chance at a fresh start, make some new friends at a new school.”
“I wish I could just live here with you.”
As much as a part of me loved the idea, it wasn’t realistic and I knew I had to cut it off. “I don’t think your parents would be too happy with that idea. As bad as I’d miss you, they’d miss you worse.”
She laughed, but it was almost a sob itself. “Yeah, right.”
“Of course they would. And they’d never allow it. You don’t think they’d be fighting like hell to keep you?”
“Mom might. My dad wouldn’t care.”
“What? Of course he would. You remember what he said? Nobody’s complete until he has a kid?”
“He never said that. Somebody on TV did. A TV dad.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, even if he didn’t he’s still…”
“He thinks I ruined his life.”
I frowned, feeling a strong desire to punch him, even if he was in the military and could almost certainly kick my ass. “He said this to you?”
She shook her head. “To Mom. I overheard, through the wall.”
That was slightly better, but only slightly. “People say stuff when they’re angry, stuff they don’t really mean. You’re a great kid, Maddy. I’m sure your Dad knows that. Anybody would be lucky to have you as a daughter.”
“I’m never going to see him again.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I told her, but in the end, I didn’t really know. I knew nothing about what went on in the other apartment except what Maddy told me, and as today revealed, she clearly hadn’t been telling me everything. But I hoped it wasn’t true. “You’ll see him.”
Instead of agreeing, or arguing, she slid back up to me and put her arms around me again. I stroked her hair gently and we sat together for a few minutes before it occurred to me again that it was a Saturday. “Where are your parents right now?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Dad left, said he was moving in with someone. Mom ran after him to yell. I came here.”
For all the apartment-living stereotype of the walls being paper thin, I hadn’t heard any of this, nor any of the arguments that must have preceded this. Or maybe I just blocked them out. Still, I couldn’t see her mother following him and yelling forever, sooner or later she’d come back home and find Maddy not there. “Maybe you should go back home,” I said. “Talk to her about this.”
“No,” she said plaintively. “Please, let me stay here.” She held on to me more tightly than before. “Please, you can have sex with me or do anything you want, just let me stay here a while longer.” She shuffled a little while she lifted and moved one knee so that she could straddle my legs, as though ready to make good on that offer right away.
The prospect made my penis swell, but only a little, because I was very conscious of the fragile girl I held in my arms. “Maddy, I’m not going to have sex with you.”
She raised her face from my chest and looked up at me with red, glistening eyes. “Don’t you want me?” she whined. It sounded like a complaint, like she was afraid that her parents didn’t want her, and now neither did I.
“Of course I do, but not like this. Not when you’re sad and scared. I care about you too much to be that selfish.”
“Can I stay though?”
Knowing I probably should say no, I said, “For a little while.”
She sank back into my chest and we sat in silence, mostly. Sometimes she cried, sometimes I said a soothing word, but mostly I just held her and let her hold me, trying to be that rock she could cling to as her world fell apart, from her perspective.
Finally, after what must have been a half hour, of trying to think of something comforting to say, I had something I was willing to try, “You’ll get through this, Maddy. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you will. You’re strong. I can see it in you. Just like Spider-Man, and Supergirl, and Thor, you can take whatever the world throws at you, and find a way to carry on, not let it beat you.”
“They have super powers,” she said.
“Well, then like Batgirl. She doesn’t have powers, but she has the heart of a super hero, like you.”
“I’ve never read any Batgirl,” she pointed out.
“Well, maybe I’ll buy you some issues.” Batgirl was, at that time, a blonde girl, just like Maddy. I hadn’t read it, but I heard it was fun. In retrospect, if seemed like an obvious choice of a comic she might like. “But you’ve got to do me a favor…” She looked up at me and I continued. “You have to be brave, go home and face what’s making you sad. You can’t run away from it forever, and if you stay here much longer, I could get in trouble.”
Her forehead scrunched up, “What do you mean?”
“If your mother had any idea how close we were, she’d probably kill me. And sooner or later, she’s going to go knocking on doors or call the police looking for you.”
I hated myself for thinking about my own neck at a time like that, but it seemed to do the trick. “Oh,” she said. “Right. You’re right. I don’t want to get you in trouble.”
“You can see me on Monday, okay?”
“Okay Daddy,” she said. I hadn’t even notice she used the name until she was gone. “I’ll go home.” She slid off the couch, and started towards the door.
She got halfway to the door before I started to follow. “Wait,” I said. I knelt down in front of her, wiped her tears away in what I hoped was a fatherly affection, gave her one last hug, and then kissed her on her forehead. She smiled… it was a weak one, and maybe for my benefit, but it was there. I walked her to the door, and then she left.
The moment her feet crossed into the hallway I heard, “Oh, thank God, Madeline, I was worried sick.”
It was her mother. There was no way she couldn’t have seen her coming out of my home, and Maddy looked like a deer caught in headlights, or somebody caught red-handed doing something they shouldn’t.