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I have to address him directly and wait for the perfect moment. As mundane as it is, all I can come up with is asking him to pass something that is out of my reach. Unfortunately, all that comes into question are brussel sprouts, which I hate. I keep looking around for something else, but there is absolutely nothing that is close enough to justify asking him for it.
Aunt Margaret finally takes a break from talking and I take my chance.
“Daddy,” I sigh, my voice as sweet as possible. “Could you pass me the sprouts, please?”
He glances at me, confused and scared, while his hands slowly reach for the bowl next to him.
“Sprouts?” My mother interjects. “Since when do you eat sprouts, Abby?”
I shrug and wink at George, as he passes the bowl over to me.
“Seems like I have gotten a taste for it,” I say. “Always good to try something new – even when it seems so… wrong at first.”
I make sure to keep eye contact the entire time as I speak to observe his reactions. His eyes are flickering, and if I am not mistaken, he even flinches at the word ‘wrong’, trying everything to keep his cool.
I even dare to add a subtle wink at him, before aunt Margaret decides it is time for her to start talking again.
“Oh dear, there’s nothing wrong with eating brussel sprouts,” she says. “They’re so healthy and good for you!”
“I know,” I reply, still looking at George. “But it took me some courage to give them a chance. A lot of good things take courage, don’t they?”
While I directed my question at my agitated stepdad, it is aunt Margaret who solemnly nods and agrees with me. “Definitely, dear.”
He finally stops ignoring me after that little incident. I catch his eyes on me more than once during the rest of the dinner and he talks to me just as we usually would. While our little conversations are no different to before – the looks we exchange certainly are. I know he is trying to figure out what my little hint during dinner was supposed to mean. I know that he wants me – and I now have him at a point where he might actually be considering it, because he has every reason to believe, that the feelings he has are mutual.
And they are. They really are. The way he looks at me now makes me shiver and tremble with excitement. I feel as if he is undressing me with his eyes, eager to get a look at that body he has been fantasizing about while jerking off in his little princess’s room.
God, I hope I am right.
* * *
People start splitting up in groups after dinner is finished. Part of the family goes for a walk – I don’t join after I find out that George is staying in as well.
We are not alone in the house, but I am sure that I will be able to catch a secret moment with him by myself. And, as it turns out, I should be right about that.
The few people who did not join the walk are now lounging in the living room. I am chatting with one of my younger cousins, when I see George leave the room and head upstairs, probably to use the bathroom on the second floor.
I excuse myself and follow him, unnoticed by anyone else. Just a few moments, that is all I need. And he is all by himself on the second floor.
He is in the bathroom, just as I suspected. My heart races as I position myself to wait for him outside in the hallway, thinking of what I should say or do to him.
I don’t have time to come up with a more elaborate plan, though, because he steps out of the bathroom a lot sooner than expected. He freezes when he sees me standing in front of him. It is so enticing, to see this tall, strong and handsome man looking at me as if I could pose any danger to him. I feel so powerful, so in control. His blue eyes are flickering, nervously moving back and forth between me and the empty hallway behind me.
“Look,” he starts, but I shake my head and put my index finger up to my lips to hush him.
“It’s okay, daddy,” I whisper. “I won’t tell anybody – if you tell me what it was I witnessed earlier.”
He gulps and his eyes widen in shock. He is visibly in distress, because I directly mention the incident he has been trying to forget since it happened.
“So?” I press, now winking at him. “What was it I saw there?”
He clears his throat. “You know what you
saw, Abby. I am really sorry you had to see that. Let’s not mention it again, shall we?”
“Oh, no, daddy,” I say, shaking my head as I approach him. “I cannot forget what I saw. You. In my room. On my chair. Playing with your beautiful cock. How could I ever forget that?”
I can almost hear his heartbeat now that I am standing close to him. He doesn’t shy away, but fixates me with his eyes, looking confused and suspicious.
