Hannah #2
I twist my lips, shaking my head. Damn his calm and those sexy lips I can’t stop imaging on mine.
“Let’s get back to the question,” he says, “but with an emendation, since you’ve veered us off course a bit. Have you ever let a boy kiss you or touch you?”
On that last part he shifts in his seat, straightening his spine, and I note that his fingers curl into tight fists of tension.
“Well,” I start, deciding to go with the truth. “I’ve kissed lots of boys.”
That repressed growl intensifies as his body stiffens. “How. Many. And who were they?”
I shrug, adding, “I am not sure. My sister and I set up a kissing booth on the front lawn when we were ten after a man showed up in the middle of the night demanding money from our father. We only made a dollar and fifteen cents, and I kissed six boys and she kissed twenty. That whole story sort of encapsulates my life so far.”
A vein stands out on Dietrich’s forehead, and he rubs his eyes for a moment as my heart thunders in my chest.
“Jesus. And since then, any other kissing or touching?” It sounds like each word hurts, and I notice he hasn’t taken his fingers from his eyes.
“No. My interest in boys never recovered. They were horrible kissers as well.”
He grunts on a dark chuckle. “As my daughter you will never kiss a boy, not for money or any other reason. Not again. No boy will touch you either. This precious body that’s pure and untouched is mine now. As your father, it’s your obligation to do as I say. Do you understand?”
Dietrich’s hand falls from his face, regaining its prior shape as a fist as he leans forward, stroking the hot little button between my legs with his eyes.
“Yes,” I squeak.
Oh, God, take this needy daughter’s lust for her father far, far away before I blow this whole deal by throwing myself at him and relieving this pounding ache between my legs on his hand-stitched suit.
“Would you like to learn what a good kiss feels like?” he asks, and my toes curl as his chest fills, stretching the white shirt over his thick pecs and forcing the buttons to strain.
God, you are not helping.
“I guess.” I shrug. “Yes, someday.”
“Not someday. Today. Now.”
I’m not sure if that’s a question or an offer or what, but the sensations coursing through me are voting for today and now and with him.
I shiver as he shifts on the slick leather occupying the area between the two seats as his fingertips hover over the hem of my dress.
“Only, one more question before we get to your first real kiss, baby.” I note the lines around his eyes deepening as his tongue glances over his white teeth.
The day of beard growth along his jaw and around his mouth is peppered with silver, reminding me this man may be in his fifties.
But he’s the most attractive specimen I’ve ever encountered.
“When you think of kissing, do you get wet down here?”
I gasp as he slides his thick fingers up my inner thigh, brushing his knuckles over the spot on my panties that covers the area that’s been tingling since he walked into the house yesterday.
“Y—yes,” I stutter on a nod, “when I think about kissing…and other things.”
I cling to the idea that telling the truth serves me right now, but honestly, I’m pretty certain most of my frontal lobe is already offline.
“Ah, well, we will certainly have to have a talk about those other things as well. But for now, I want to focus on kissing. So just relax, baby, I’m going to show you what it’s like to have a man kiss you in a grown-up way.
Part of being a father is making sure you learn things the right way. You’re very innocent.”
“But, I don’t always think innocent things.
I think about grown up things. Dirty things.
Things I shouldn’t think about.” I mumble as his masculine scent invades my nostrils, his massive body hunching forward, his shoulder brushing mine as his fingers dance on the outside of my panties making my insides clench.
“It’s okay. I’m just showing you how to do it right. That’s what a good daddy does. Shows you the ways of the world. Now, Daddy’s going to kiss you.”
That’s the last thing I hear before his lips are on mine. He’s warm and God he smells so good, and my eyes drop closed as the world outside disappears.
It’s impossible to breathe as his lips mount mine and the pressure of his fingers between my legs intensifies. The rumble from his chest vibrates, shifting into a growl.
God, he’s kissing me, really kissing me, and my body curls and shakes as he strums between my legs.
All the quiet shame I’ve carried about wanting this connection with a man wells up in me like long repressed grief. It’s been the secret I’ve carried and kept from even Brigid.
The dark thoughts and desperate ache I’ve felt for so long made me think there was something wrong with me. I’ve wanted with a wanting so deep and desperate that I pushed it away twice as hard.
I couldn’t let anyone see my weakness. I couldn’t admit, even to myself, that the depraved fantasies and dreams of an older man taking control could ever be real.
I know he’s too old for me, but my body doesn’t care.
Dietrich fills my mouth with his tongue, and it feels strange and exciting as tight moans catch in my throat. I don’t know what to do with my hands or how to breathe.
Our tongues lash and twist as he pushes deeper, the scrape of his short beard connecting with the soft skin around my mouth.
His hard chest crowds me against the car as low, frustrated, desperate sounds fall from our lips.
The reality, that I’m kissing a man older than my own father, heightens the curling tension below my belly button.
There’s so much wrong with what’s happening right now, but my clit thinks it’s a freaking Mardi Gras.
In fact, it’s begging for more…friction. I cock my hips into his touch the best I can, his massive body containing me in the confined space.
His low grunts stop and his tongue moves into the hollow of my cheek, then across the front of my teeth until he pulls back, his forehead furrowed and I feel a sharp stab to my chest thinking I’ve done something wrong.
“Was that okay?” I ask in a breathless gasp, barely recognizing myself. “Did I do it right?”
I’m so desperate for this stranger’s approval I get a glimpse of what it must be like to get lost in a part.
He’s not your father. He can’t fix the broken parts inside you from a lifetime of disappointment at the real man that was supposed to be your hero growing up.
“It was perfect, baby.” He withdraws his fingers and the loss of that magical strumming and his lips have me feeling empty.
I’m addicted already and I feel like a carpet has been pulled from under my feet.
“Now, I’m going to tell you more about how grown ups do other things.
You may have heard things at school or from friends, but it’s time you learned what I want you to know about sex. ”
Flames lick at my cheeks. The reality is our own father never had the talk with me and Brigid. It was simply never brought up and like so many other things, that responsibility as a father apparently didn’t apply to him.
“I know about…sex,” I stutter, but realize the truth is, I know the bare bones basics and I’m pretty sure Deitrich has parsed that out already.
“Is that so? And from where did you learn this information?”
Still corralled by his closeness, but with a quivering in my belly, I answer, “Books… mostly. Some friends at school.”
“Well, I can tell you that books and friends did not teach you what I’m going to teach you.
And, I know it feels funny, but you don’t need to be embarrassed.
You liked the kissing, didn’t you?” He brushes my hair behind my ear, his delicate touch surprising me as his eyes narrow, turning down toward my tits.
“We’re going to do some show and tell. A little game to help you learn. ”
“Okay.” It’s all I can manage, curious where the hard ass, take no prisoners Hannah has gone. Then I remind myself, I’m Jamie now, so anything goes…
“Good girl,” he says, like those words delight his tongue as the car moves through traffic and in a sudden shift of energy, his hands are on my hips, aligning me with his eyes as he curls the hem of my dress to my waist. “Take your panties off. We’re going to do some question and answers.”
I stall, frozen in the ice of his gaze as his thick fingers tuck the roll of my skirt into the belt holding it in place, exposing my bare thighs. The cool air conditioning hits the hot wetness on my underwear.
He tilts his head and I realize too late, he told me to do something…
“Did you forget you are to do as you are told?” Dietrich narrows his eyes, as my ability to communicate with my extremities seemingly evaporates. “Very well, I’ll do it myself. Daddy wants to see how pretty you are under your panties and I do not like to wait. You should know that by now, Jamie.”
In an abrupt tug, Dietrich whips my underwear down my legs, leaving them stretched between my ankles, which makes the whole moment feel filthier than if he’d removed them completely.
“I—” I stutter, my insides crocheting themselves together as his hands drive my knees apart with my ankles still cuffed by the white fabric.
“When you don’t do as you are told, it tries my patience, and I will take matters into my own hands.
That can take many forms, little girl. But, for now, we will move on with your lesson.
First, anatomy they don’t teach you in high school…
do you know what a clitoris is, baby, and where it is?
” His voice runs from hard to soft in the blink of an eye.
I nod. “Yes.”