For The Love of Daddy
The first chapter in this taboo novella.
Everyone says they read Lolita because it’s a masterpiece of English literature, but I think the truth is they just like reading about what it’s like to fuck a twelve-year-old girl.
I carried the book in my purse for two years when I was in high school and it was tattered and worn and it made me feel cool as all hell. It meant that whenever someone noticed it they knew two things about me: I was smart, and I was probably a precocious little slut.
In reality, I read it because it made me feel powerful. It made me realize that the shirts I wore and the skirts I put on made men do things around me they wouldn’t normally do. They looked too long, let me off easy, and it was often as if what came out of my mouth didn’t matter at all.
The first time I really understood it was when I was fourteen and had detention for something stupid. Right before I went in, I stopped by the girl's room and did something even more stupid. I took my bra off and stuffed it into my backpack before walking down to hall. I pinched my nipples through my thin white shirt until it was impossible not to notice.
“Mr. K, I really can’t do detention today…”
“Jessica,” he started to say before he looked up at me. Suddenly he was quiet.
“It’s important. My dad needs me at home, and I know I was wrong, but is it okay if we let it go this time?”
He just nodded and ten minutes later I was walking home by myself. My heart was racing and I was sweating a bit, but somehow it had worked. Just a glimpse of the two rounds things on my chest and he turned into a blob that couldn’t say a word. This changed everything. For the first time, I understood Lolita in a whole new way.
So yeah, maybe you like the way Nabokov wrote, and maybe it’s not about the sex, but tell me how many other books of his you’ve read.
Yeah, just what I thought.
But this isn’t about twelve-year-olds, so you’ll have to get your kicks somewhere else if that’s what you want. It’s not even about me at fourteen trying to get out of detention. It’s about me just about to leave for college and suddenly fucking up my life in a major way. It’s about me and my Daddy, and it’s about good decisions as well as bad ones. Jesus fucking Christ, I don’t know why I’m telling this story. It’s not one of those perfect little fairy tales where my Daddy ends up taking care of me forever and somehow we end up being the perfect sick and twisted little couple. I mean come on. That’s just fucked up.
Don’t get me wrong. It is the story of how I got him to fuck me, how I fucked his friend, and how I… Okay I may make you wait for the next part, but you get the idea. So, if this sort of things grosses you out or pisses you off then you should probably stop reading because it’s not the prettiest story in the world. Sometimes it’s romantic and sometimes it’s just hot and sweaty, but it’s never pretty because let’s face it, fucking isn’t pretty. It’s not like a flower or a stupid gay fucking rainbow. It’s bodies slapping together, making funky ass smells and most often leaving a big mess somewhere.
So deal with it.
Unlike your little fantasy it didn’t happen because I accidentally saw Daddy walking from the shower to his room and his cock looked so good I just had to gobble it all up. He didn’t rub sunscreen on my back as I lay half-naked by the pool, and he didn’t walk in on me with two fingers up my cunt as I watched porn on his computer.
I think there are probably three things that made it happen. The first is that one of his friends flirted with me at a party at our house. It wasn’t a big deal — I’m kinda used to old dudes creeping on me — but right in the middle of our stupid conversation, I saw dad look over at me and he knew. He knew exactly what was going on and he didn’t do a fucking thing about it. He didn’t get mad, he didn’t come over and stop it, and he didn’t even bother to pretend he hadn’t seen it. He just smiled at me. What the fuck?
The second thing that happened is I caught him crying one night. I know it’s stupid, but I walked in on him in the living room and he was crying like a fucking baby. He tried to stand up when I walked in, but I wrapped my arms around him and didn’t even ask what was wrong. I just held him like he had held me so many times. It felt normal. It felt natural, and it felt exactly like the right thing to do. He didn’t try to kiss me or grope me and I didn’t get all turned on by holding him, but it was the first time in my whole life that I felt like I was taking care of him and it felt good. I was being useful and that was a new thing.
The third thing is really stupid. I was at a party and I was totally fucking wasted. Like I was out of my mind gone, and for some reason, it felt like a good idea to make out on the couch with some douchebag from school. He was pretty gone too and we kissed and groped and then without really thinking about it, I started sucking his cock. It wasn’t a big deal. I like sucking cock. I’m not a big whore or anything, but it wasn’t the first time and it sure as hell wasn’t the last. So, anyway, I’m sucking his cock and he’s all drunk and shit, but in the middle of it all he pushes my hair out of my eyes all gentle like and looks me right in eyes.
“Babygirl, that feels so fucking good,” he mumbled.
See? I told you it was stupid. Some drunken moron called me Babygirl while I’m blowing him at a party and that was it. There’s only one person in the whole world who calls me that and you can bet it’s not Chad the goddamn lacrosse king or whatever he plays. I almost stopped when he said it because he looked so stupid and blissed out, but when I closed my eyes it wasn’t him anymore. I heard the name over and over again in my head and I sucked his cock like a pro. I wrapped my fingers around the base and took his head between my lips before taking him all the way down my throat. I thought he was going to pass out, but he just kept moaning and I kept on sucking. I never wanted to make anyone come that hard in my whole life, and Christ did he come. I thought I was going to choke there was so much, but even then I didn’t stop. I swallowed it and licked it off him, and it wasn’t until he pulled me off his dick that I finally let myself breathe.
I actually got up and left two seconds later. Chad was lying there like a dumbass with his dick still out, but I had to go. I wasn’t too far from home, so I left my car there (I’m not completely stupid) and stumbled out the door. It was kinda nice out, and I looked up at the stars as I walked the few blocks to my house as I tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. The only thing I knew for sure was that somewhere in the middle I stopped thinking about Chad and started thinking about Daddy.
