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My cock strains, and I clamp my fist back around it. I try to keep still, but my mouth is watering from imagining Jem’s milk on my tongue, and my hips start to thrust of their own volition. I can’t fucking stop.
I lie on my back and fuck myself harder, until the wet sounds are loud and all consuming. I close my eyes and think of Jem’s gushing, juicy little cunt, spurred on by the sound of my slicked dick getting a good fucking rubdown.
She’s so fucking pretty. And disinhibited. The way she’d massaged her breast, to soak her tank top in front of me had lit an instant fuse in my cock. And she hadn’t done it just a little. She drenched the pale fabric, so I could see right through to her dark nipple andcraveit. And the look on her face while she did… It’s like that’s just what she wanted. She was turned on.
I thrust into my tight fist. “That’s it, Little Miss. Get good and wet while you milk those fucking tits for me. Naughty girl.You fucking knew what you were doing to Daddy. You made him hard, and now you’re going to take his fucking cock, like a good girl. Let me stretch that young little cunt, you sweet, breedy fuck.
“You had Daddy’s baby, and you were acting like you want some more. Squeezing those beautiful fucking tits for me, until I could see everything through your wet clothes. Got fucking topless for me, too, like it’s no big deal to flash your pretty tits my way, you fucking tease. I wanted to suck you so bad, and you fucking wanted it. I could tell.
“I should have fucking done it. Then. Or earlier, when I found you fast asleep with your tits out, a shine on your thighs, and a fucking glass cock next to you. You love a good fuck. Don’t you, miss? Love that little pussy, full of cock and cum. Daddy should have climbed on top while you slept. Sucked those pretty tits, and fucked you bare, so you’d wake up pregnant again.”
Tightness grips my balls, and I squeeze my cock harder, as the pressure builds to a blinding pleasure.
I roar as my seed shoots forth. It fills my fist to overflowing, erupting through my fingers and all over my bare stomach. It catches in the trail of hair below my navel and smears over my skin, as I milk the last of it from my cock with a moan.
“Oh, sweet Little Miss. I like you way too much, for it to be good for you, and I fucking know it. Stay the fuck away from Daddy, darling. He’s not fucking safe to be around, if he’s thinking shit like that.”
I groan and close my eyes.
“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings by saying I had somebody else, but it’s for the best. I have to at least try to keep my distance, baby girl.”
Jem fucking hates me.
It’s been more than a month since I ratted her out to her dad, and although she hasn’t tried to keep me from seeing Viv, she’s made it loud and clear that she thinks I’m a fucking douche-lord. She’s not open to discussion about anything but our daughter, and even those conversations are like pulling teeth.
Mostly, I get the silent treatment.
A pouty face.
Angry, aggressive cleaning of shit that already looks pretty clean when I’m around.
Short, snippy responses when I push for answers to my questions about Viv.
She also returned the expensive phone I got her for her nineteenth birthday so she could make her little critter TikToks on something better quality than her old cracked one. Said she was happy with her current, much shittier phone, and that she’d upgrade when she’s ready to,notwhen I thought she should.
I tried to reason with her, but she was making a point, and now she’s basically been ignoring me for a month. And if she catches me looking at her too long, it’s worse. It’s like she goes out of her way to become even sexier, to show me what I’m missing, and then I’m scolded for wanting to look. I’ve taken to getting my fix from the few smiling photographs mounted on her walls.
My favorite picture is one of her holding a little hand-knitted baby sweater against her belly when she’s heavily pregnant; so perfectly round and gorgeous with my child. She looks so happy and excited, and she’s fucking glowing. The epitome of beauty.
Breaks my fucking heart that I never got to see her like that in person. I never got to slide my hands over her bump or feel Viv’s first kicks. Could never be put to use, painting Jem’s toenails for her or lending a steady hand to help her from a low chair. No rubbing her aching feet or her back. No holding her when she got scared or if her emotions got too much. No squeezing her hand and being there for the hard parts, so she knew she could trust me. She didn’t want me there.
I was as useless to her then as she’s making me feel now. Will I be reduced to only a cock in her mind? The sperm donor who helped start her family, instead of being a valued member of it? I don’t want that. I want to be important to our family, and the more she acts like I can’t be, the more I want it.
But I’m going to have to ride out the storm and hope for sunshine on the other side, which means showing up and doing what I can with what I have and navigating my family’s needs as best I can. I’d appreciate more information sharing, but Jem’s minimalist communication is making that hard. I have to rely on observations.
According to the big wall planner in her kitchen, she’s had a fewDate Nights, and I can guess what that means. She’s young and pretty and enticingly open about her sexual appetite. I can’t imagine she’d be shy about getting what she wants or needs on those dates. It’s how it should be, but I can’t help being disappointed.
She walks past, sees me looking at the planner, and doesn’t even respond when I say her name. She just keeps on walking, so I give up on trying to talk with her directly. Instead, I talk to the room in general, so at least she knowsI’llremain open to communication.
“I’m going hunting with some buddies this weekend, if you want to put in an order? I mean, I can’t guarantee that we’ll getwhat you want, but we usually get a few turkeys. Maybe a buck or a wild boar…”
No nibbles on that conversation, either. “I’ll just share whatever I get with you,” I say with a sigh as I settle myself back on the kitchen floor next to Viv, where she’s batting at the brightly colored shapes dangling above her in and arch.
“I stopped by your dad’s, to drop a few meals off, before I came over,” I say, trying a different angle. “He’s obviously not fond of me, but he seems a bit better. He told me what he’s doing to help convince you he’s invested in his health and your life. It must have been a tough decision for him, but you’re his motivation, and he’s definitely committed.”
Jem says nothing and keeps organizing things in the pantry.
“Do you talk with anyone about him or any concerns you have? Because I’m good at listening, if that’s what you need.”
