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Playing With Fire: Marah’s Introduction In a panic, I throw my towel on the bed and dash around my room to my dresser. Snatching out a pair of black satin bikini panties, and a matching bra, I get them on as fast as I possibly can. Balancing on my tip toes I step over my clothes, jewelry, and shoes strewn all across my bedroom floor. Somehow I’ve made it to my closet to grab a fitted, knee length, cotton summer dress off of a hanger. I know it’s slightly too small for me, but desperate times call for desperate measures. It’s white with silver flowers painted just above the hemline. While pulling it over my head, I notice how it clings to me as I shimmy it down my body, but I don’t have time to care. Glancing down to my closet floor spotting a pair of silver slip-in sandals, I bend down and pull them out. Quickly, I and slip my feet into them and step to the side to do a fast check in my full length mirror to examine how I look. The dress shows off my petite, hourglass figure in a way that is slightly inappropriate for school. My high breasts and slender waist are accentuated by the snug fit. I turn a bit to the side to make sure it doesn’t look too bad. Well, it does certainly cling to my ass, although it’s not obscene. However, I do see a bit of a pantyline. “Oh well. I don’t have time to worry about it.” I think to myself. Hurriedly, I make my way back to my dresser and flip open a box full of hair accessories finding several colorful elastic bands. After selecting a black one, I force my long, thick, curly hair into it making a lopsided ponytail. Next, I move to my jewelry box, open it, and take out the platinum necklace with the small diamond Star of David pendant on it that my father gave me for becoming a bat mitzvah. I fasten it around my neck and the pendant nestles right at the base of my throat. Using my hands, I check my ears to make sure both my small round diamond studs are still in my ears. Glancing at my digital clock on my nightstand I see that it is 8:06am. “Shit, I don’t have time for make-up today.” I swear aloud. Well, at least Daddy will be happy. He rolls his eyes if I wear anything more than lip gloss and mascara anyway. Realizing that I better get a move on, I run across the hallway to the bathroom but not before risking a look down the hall. Daddy’s door is shut. I swallow hard and continue to the bathroom to apply my deodorant and brush my teeth. I’d forgotten to do that with all the drama earlier this morning. The second I reach the sink, I look in the mirror. Skimming my face, I notice that my eyes look a red, my cheeks are flushed, and my hair doesn’t look that great in the lopsided ponytail. I snatch my hair down and vigorously shake it out. The dark spiral curls scatter down over my face, neck, and shoulders. Using my right hand, I push some of my hair to one side so that it falls over my eye. Peering at myself in the mirror, I take inventory. My hair in the front falling over the right side of my face and shoulders makes me look a bit older than sixteen. It’s actually kind of sexy and I decide to leave my hair Çekmeköy escort this way thinking that maybe Daddy will like it. I stare at myself and my full pink lips catch my attention. I lick my lips and freeze. I can taste him very faintly on my lips. I close my eyes and think about the kisses that I placed on Daddy’s chest. He has a very toned, smooth, hairless chest that I love to look at every summer when he cuts the grass. Shirtless, wearing nothing but basketball shorts and sneakers are his normal choice for yard work on hot days. I sigh thinking about how well he tans. His skin gets this amazing healthy glow to it that makes me swoon just thinking about it. I flip open my eyes and look at myself in the mirror. Looking to my green eyes, I frown at myself. I tell myself loud and clear, “Okay, Marah just cut it out. It can’t happen! You know it can’t happen, so stop. He was totally freaked when he saw you naked. So all your little DILF fantasies will remain just that, fantasies. Be realistic for goodness sake! He doesn’t want you that way because you are a little girl to him. His little girl and that’s it! Get over it!” I hear the words coming out of my mouth, but even as I’m saying them I don’t want to believe them. I felt his cock. I felt it! I know I provoked something in him. But maybe it’s just a natural reaction guys have to being stimulated. I mean, we were close and I was stroking him. He ripped away from me for goodness sake like I had the plague or something. I don’t know what to think because I don’t have much experience in the sex department besides sneaking watching porns on the net and masturbation. I’ve kissed a few boys, but not much else. Sighing heavily, I decide to stop thinking about it for the moment because I can’t solve anything right now anyway. And he’s going to ground my little ass if I’m late for school for the third time this week. I finish up by brushing my teeth, applying deodorant, and head downstairs so Daddy can drive me to school. Once I’m downstairs, I rush into the kitchen to find Daddy there fully dressed now. Leaning against the counter sipping what I assume to be his coffee, he watches me over his mug. He’s wearing a faded New York Giants t-shirt, dark blue relaxed fit jeans, and his white cross trainers. His thick, light brown hair is still damp from the shower. He looks incredibly sexy even in casual clothes. I’m trying not to think about the events of earlier as I check to see if things are going to be awkward. He seems a bit pensive. Immediately, I determine in my mind not to make this awkward for either of us. I break the ice with, “Daddy, I am going to just grab half a bagel and some juice for breakfast. I’ll get lunch at school today. Let’s go.” Carefully, he sits his coffee cup down on the counter next to him and crosses his legs at the ankles. “Too late. I fixed you some waffles for breakfast and already packed your lunch. Turkey on pita bread, fruit salad, some veggie sticks, and a Snapple iced tea.” He says with a grin while holding up my insulated lunch bag. Gebze escort bayan My gaze shifts to the waffles sitting on the kitchen island waiting for me. Simply glad that he’s not being weird over what happened upstairs, I thank him and ease onto one of the stools at kitchen island. Opting not to use syrup, I proceed to eat my waffles in silence. I can feel Daddy’s eyes on me and I pretend not to notice it. But I can feel the intensity of his glare. My heart starts pounding like a jackhammer in my chest and my mind goes back to the events that happened only a short time ago in my bedroom. My face grows hot as I think about the look on Daddy’s face when my towel dropped. He looked scared to death. I feel bad about how I spoke to him this morning, but I was entirely frustrated. Honestly, it wasn’t about my hair. My hair has been the bane of my existence since I was like five, but everyone else loves it. Frankly, I’d never get my hair cut short. I know from past experience that I look like a complete and utter fucktard with short hair. While my hair does drive me nuts at times, the truth is it suits me. Interestingly, older guys are starting to tell me that it’s sexy. Like much older guys. College hotties. Go figure. But I have a bigger issue than my hair and college hotties. Pete “Pencil Dick” Abrams. He’s made my life a living hell these last few weeks. He told everyone he could possibly tell at school that I fucked him in his basement after we went to the movies last weekend. Ugh! The little shit! I wouldn’t let him sniff me let alone fuck me. But ten idiots at school believed him and I actually had to defend to my friends that I didn’t let him touch me after the movie, which is the truth. I only went to the stupid movie because of Daddy. Yep, that’s right ladies and gentleman, my own father threw me under the bus. We had a Ultimate Fighting Championship Pay Per View party at our house two weeks ago and Pete and his Dad were there. Apparently, Pete’s Dad started telling Daddy about how Pete feels like an outsider at school and doesn’t have many friends. Yada, yada, yada and boo fucking hoo, you get the picture. Next thing I know Daddy is letting me know that he’s taking Pete and I to the movies the following weekend. I could believe him! I was stuck going out with Pete “Pencil Dick” Abrams. I tried to tell Daddy that there is a reason Pete doesn’t have many friends. It’s because all he does is make up shit and brag about his Dad being a big shot executive for some lame ass company that no one gives two fucks about in the first place. Besides that, he supposedly showed his penis to Shelly Breslov about two years ago and she told everyone he had a pencil dick. Hence Pete “Pencil Dick” Abrams was born. But Daddy being Daddy felt sorry for the twerp and insisted that I go. No, demanded it! He irks me at times when he gets all noble and what not volunteering me for shit. But just the same, I love that he’s compassionate toward others. Even for pencil dick dimwits like Pete Abrams. But that’s Daddy’s nature. I was Escort Şerifali upset because my best friend, Sarah sent me a text this morning to tell me to be prepared when I come to school to defend against Pete’s bullshit. Her cousin Josh told her that Pete fully intends to keep up the lie. The bastard! I thought I had handled it as I was clear with everyone that nothing happened. Sarah says that I didn’t handle it well enough because people are gossiping that I am going out with “Pencil Dick” and my reputation is and I quote, “About to be fucked up the ass with no lube.” First of all, Daddy would probably try to kill Pete and ring my little neck if he even thought I was thinking about banging Pete Abrams or anyone else. And frankly, I don’t want my Dad being sent up the fucking river over a douche like Pete Abrams. Furthermore, I kind of like my neck un-rung! Plus, I’m still a virgin and I have every intention of remaining that way until I’m married. Unless… My mind drifts back to the scene in my room and I think about Daddy’s gray pajama bottoms hanging low on his hips. Kissing his chest and easing my hands down his back was exhilarating and scary at the same time. I don’t know what to think about it in this moment. I don’t know if I’m ready to face all that just yet. Sure, I was upset about Pete’s bullshit, but the truth is that I just needed to be close to Daddy. I wanted to stay with him because he’s off from work all day today. I haven’t been able to help myself as the feelings that I have for Daddy are growing more intense day after day. Night after night, I ache for him. I’ve been tempted to climb in his bed more times than I can count. I know that any kind of line crossing that way would be wrong in his eyes. And Daddy would never do such a thing. Not ever. But I can’t help but want him in every way possible. I think about him all the time and totally understand what my mother must have loved about him. Daddy looks younger than his forty-four years. He actually looks about thirty-five. He keeps himself in great shape and is always well groomed. But it’s more than that, really. It’s just him. He’s extremely intelligent, loving, generous, warm, and has devoted his entire life to me. He says I’m the most precious thing in the world to him. And I must admit he’s lived up to that claim. He always puts me first no matter what the circumstance. Don’t get me wrong, Daddy has his faults. He can be a little overbearing and way over protective. He also seems to rationalize logic in lieu of emotion in many cases. Which can be very beneficial in some ways and quite detrimental in others when it comes to interpersonal relationships. Daddy has made a lot of sacrifices to his own happiness to make sure that I’m content. I think some of it is guilt because I never had a mother. Fucking intracranial aneurysm! She died on the table the day I was born. He never remarried and says he never will because the only woman he will ever want to be married to is my mother. Evidently, they had some epic love story that started in college. Too fucking bad she died and he had to raise me by himself. But he’s done great and there’s no one else that could have done a better job. So I don’t feel like I’ve missed anything. He certainly has never made me feel like he has any resentment toward me about her death. He does stare at me a lot when he thinks I don’t know it.
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