MONSTERS OF THE ID
Another night, another late-night visit.
I fucking hate clocks. Seconds become minutes...57, 58, 59. Minutes become hours ... 9 ... 10 .. .11 pm. Hours become ... what?
Midnights?
It was almost midnight already; and, Jack had been sitting at his computer for hours. He wasn't playing games. At least, he wasn't playing computer games. Head games, maybe? In his hand, he held an unfinished glass of bourbon, which just might be evaporating faster than he was drinking it. The liquor had been poured hours ago, right after Nikki stopped by his room to say goodnight.
Supper had been noticeably quiet. Smatterings of meaningless chitchat, followed by long periods of silence. It was so quiet they could hear each other chew. It was so quiet that the sound of the forks and spoons were loud.
I guess there's been a lot happening to think about. Nikki's probably mulling over MacKenzie's visit. She clearly enjoyed Mac's attentions.
Jack watched his daughter eat, but his mind was more focused on Nikki's breakfast conversation after their night on the sailboat. It'd been almost a week, and he hadn't been back to her room since. Unless, of course, he counted this morning.
Sweet Jesus, seeing her with MacKenzie was so erotic!
Tonight, his brain just kept rehashing that restaurant conversation over-and-over again. Nikki's whispered remark: 'You used to come to my room every night'. Caught off-guard, he'd answered with a question: 'Would you like that?' She'd merely nodded ambivalently; and, Jack couldn't unravel its meaning.
Sorta Yes... then sorta No... then what?
Nothing!
As dumb luck would have it, the waitress showed up with their bill. The moment was ruined. The memory of it was left unsettled. The message was unclear. Jack hated ambiguity with all his heart and soul. His mind craved exactness.
Since that day they'd never talked about it again, and it was gnawing at Jack.
What the hell did you mean by that nod?
Well, what-ever-the-fuck she meant, I will not figure it out sitting here at the computer.
Jack let out a prolonged sigh and reached out to turn off the desk light, plunging the den into darkness.
And, in that same darkness, a few minutes later, Jack found himself kneeling beside his daughter's bed with his hand already under her quilt. Whatever tiny speck of will power he still had left in his lawyer's rational mind begged him to stop.
Don't!
That's one piece of legal advice, I'm going to ignore.
His fingers edged carefully across her pronounced cleft, searching; she was hot, but still dry there. He rubbed her delicatelywith just the tip of a finger as she held her breath in her sleep. Then, as he gently lifted the finger from her, she breathed out in a sigh.
Dangerous stuff, a father listening to a daughter sigh in the dark like that. Jack went hard in a flash. He touched her again; but, this time he was the one holding his breath. He could feel her clit swell as he softly flicked it, pressing it gingerly.
Christ, Nikki, you've got a very nice little mons and a fucking great clit!
He slid his hand languidly down her cleft, trying to open her slowly. Stirring in her sleep, Nikki drew a shuddering breath and held it. He attempted using a finger to enter her, but she was still too dry and tight. The little hood covering her clit pulled back under his palm. She gasped. Surprised, he quickly snatched his hand away as his only child's body responded to his touch.
Cupping her immature sex again, he searched for her button. Even with her legs together, he found it protruding slightly through her vulvae.
God damn, it's huge! I've never touched another one like this; even, your mom's isn't this big. You must be stimulated every time you takes a step....talk about a sweet spot!
Turning his hand flat against her, he lightly put his thumb against it.
That's incredible;
I can feel your pulse
.
I wonder if you'll try to stop me? If you wake, will you
pretend to still be asleep?
He brought his fingers out from under the covers to his lips. He inhaled deeply,
Oh, child of my loins,
you smell like peaches after your bath.
Moistening his finger, he reached out for her sex in the dark. He stopped just short of touching her.
Jack bowed his head. He might have been praying. He wasn't! He seemed to be asking for the strength to get up from there and leave. He wasn't! Jack was busy thinking, the law was clear:
Penetration --no matter how slight.
So, what can we do?
He crawled to the bottom of the bed on his knees, lifting the covers and draping them over his head.
One way or the other, I've gotta know what she meant by that nod ... time for the Kissing Monster to visit.
It was an age-old game many dads and their kids have played at some point in their relationship. Harmless and innocent, it's only a 'nighty-night' game for little kids.
Like all healthy children, Nikki had fought the battle of the bedtime: