AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But Christmas is many months away.
There’s a thumping low in my belly as I lock myself into the vast, empty house. An eerie silence follows me up the curved staircase.
In my room, I test the door handle twice to make sure no one can enter. Then with shaking hands, I start to undress.
In my en-suite bathroom, I grab a tube from the drawer. The smell of the cream stings my nostrils. I don’t allow myself to doubt my actions, instead I embrace the naughty thrill as I start to apply cream to my sex. A thick layer covers every inch of skin. My fingers tremble when I use the spatula to remove the cream, taking my ginger pubic hair with it.
Back in my bedroom, I step in front of the full-length mirror. I bite my lip and hardly dare look down between my legs. My plump pubic bone is all bare. I swallow hard. Will Aidan like it?
With my head tilted to the side, I scrutinise my body shape. I had impatiently waited for my growth spurt, eying up Mum’s five foot seven, but somehow I never made it further than five foot. The girls my age in church tease me and say I still look like a child. Sometimes they added mean comments to the pictures I posted online, so I’ve stopped doing that and deleted my accounts as I didn’t want Mum to see. One of my friends in school says that not being on social media makes me out oftouch with the world. She may be right. But do I want to be in a world that is hurtful?
I slide my hand up my skin from my belly to my breast. I don’t really look like a child anymore – my hips have swelled, giving me a narrow waist and female curves, but my boobs have never grown out of a B-cup. I pinch the nipple, like Aidan taught me earlier today. A small gasp fills the room as I’m reminded how sensitive they are when I touch myself without a layer of clothes. I pinch harder and imagine Aidan’s firm touch with his much larger hand. A surge suddenly rushes through my abdomen. Eagerly, I skip over to the bed and scoot under the safety of the covers.
I do it again, run my hand over my boobs, both this time, and pinch my nipples. Pinch my nipplesharder.Oh my… There’s only a slight hesitation before I bring my hand between my legs. I’m greeted with smooth skin, and in between the lips –wetness. My mind goes back to how Aidan touched me, and I try to mimic his actions, experimenting where to touch, with what pressure. My breathing turns shallow as my fingers get more familiar with my secret body part. I writhe on the bed, my legs restless, and I whimper, chasing that high that Aidan has brought me to twice.Daddy.I moan, my fingers picking up speed as I repeat in my head all the dirty things he’s said to me, did to me.
“Daddy!” I call out, and my back arches. My hips buck and I moan loudly as out of nowhere, I crash over the edge.
“Caitlin?” The door handle rattles. “Caitlin, are you okay?”
White, ice-cold panic fills me, dousing the flames of my orgasm.
“Y-yes, Mum,” I croak, ever so grateful that I locked the door.
“Are you okay?”
“I, um, yes, sorry. I had a headache, so I’ve just gone to bed.”
“Ah, sweetheart. I heard you moan. Is it that bad?”
The concern in Mum’s voice has guilt clog up my throat.
“I’ve taken painkillers,” I lie, my tone hoarse. “I’m sure it will go away soon.”
“I hope so, love. Just call if you need anything.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Thank you,” I say as conflicting feelings again war within me.
16
Aidan
“Is the wee one still into golf?”
“Cage fighting.”
“What?” I choke and turn to my brother from my usual spot at the bar.
“I’m telling you”—Sean holds his hands out in front of him—“the wee lad is the new Conor McGregor. Apparently, he beat up another kid in the playpen at IKEA on Sunday, nosebleed and the whole shenanigans. Nothing like being called over the speaker system, asked to pick up your kid. Took us half an hour to navigate through the shop to get him. Siobhan was pissed that she didn’t get to buy her napkins.”
“Napkins?”
“Yeah, don’t ask. Women’s logic. Going to the biggest shop in town to buy fecking napkins when you can just as easily get a pack from the garage down the road. And on a Sunday,” he adds, holding out his pint for effect, “with four kids.”
I lean my elbows on the bar and chuckle. I wonder if I’ll ever get the wife and kids to give me such headaches.
“So?” He nudges me. “How’s this office fling going?”
I still have her taste on my tongue from this morning.
