I just had an orgasm.
CHRISTOPHER
I’m glad I cut the company vacation short and rushed home to see Ariel. It was the right thing to do. Repairing our father-daughter relationship is my number one priority. We were close after her mother died, finding solace in making our little family of two feel whole again with movie nights, barbecues with extended family, and trips to baseball games and museums.
Then I fell for her ex’s lies. I was blinded by my own worry of Ariel’s health and happiness, and I thought Leon was a decent guy who had her best interests at heart.
He was a fucking snake, and he betrayed us all.
So it’s good that I came home the day after Christmas and had lunch with Ariel. I think it meant a lot to us both.
Cutting my vacation short had an additional benefit: it’s putting distance between Janie and me.
Yes, that Janie. Ariel’s best friend.
I thought an upscale ski resort would mean bulky clothes and outdoor group activities. Zero temptation, right?
No. It turns out, Janie doesn’t ski. But she does love hanging around the resort, sipping hot chocolate that makes her smell delectable, and then donning a tiny bikini to hang out in the spa. Her dark hair swirled around her shoulders in the water. I couldn’t tear my gaze from her.
She then decided to come home when I did, so we sat next to each other on the plane. We joked and laughed, and Janie fell asleep on my shoulder.
I’m old enough to be her father, but that didn’t stop me from noticing the way her cleavage showed at the neck of her blouse. It didn’t stop me from thinking about what she’d do if she saw how hard I was for her. Would she recoil in horror…or would she lean over and lend a helping hand?
While she slept, she made the cutest little sounds. They sounded suspiciously like sexy moans, but that had to be my imagination. I’m sure of it. There’s no reason she would be aroused on an airplane while sitting next to me.
Even the shared drive from the airport to San Esteban was filled with tension. I wanted to tackle her, or better yet, pull her onto my lap so she could ride me and work out our frustrations…
Fuck. Fuck. This is so wrong. I’m walking around my empty house, fantasizing about my daughter’s friend.
I should do something productive, like unpack.
So I head to my room where I left my plain, black carry-on. I pop it open, ready to get to work.
Inside aren’t my clothes, though. Little sweaters, soft pants. A tiny bikini.
This is Janie’s luggage. We laughed that we had similar luggage, and I thought we made sure to grab the correct bags. She came in to freshen up before the driver took her to her place. Something about a family Christmas party she needed to get ready for. She came out of the bathroom with a fresh coat of lipstick, grabbed what we both thought was her carry-on, and then she was gone.
And now I’m standing here staring at an open suitcase filled with Janie’s clothes.
Including her panties, zipped into a mesh pocket. A plain, pink cotton thong catches my eye.
Don’t do it, you sick fuck. Don’t do it…
I unzip the pocket and pick up the thong. The fabric is soft, a little stretchy. I lift it to my nose and inhale, pulling in faint laundry detergent, as well as Janie’s sweet scent.
Put the panties back, you disgusting sicko.
I shove down my pants and rub that soft, sweet-smelling fabric all over my dick. Janie could be wearing them right now, rocking back and forth on me, grinding against me to get herself off. I imagine capturing one of her pert nipples between my teeth and biting down, causing her to cry out in blissful pain.
I rub myself with her panties again and again, harder and harder, until I come, catching my spurts in the fabric.
Her pretty pink panties are soiled. I did this, I soiled them.
I guess they’re mine, now.
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