I woke up to the sound of my alarm trilling. How I'd managed to fall into a deep, lasting sleep after the events of the night before was totally beyond me. Gabby. Her gorgeous tits. Her shaking orgasm. Her eyes locked on mine. My hips powering my cock through my grip. Coming at the same time as my daughter. My dick was waking up too and it definitely wanted to pay Gabrielle an early morning visit.
No sooner did I make up my mind to do so, I heard someone stomping down the stairs, like only teenagers can do, then the backdoor slammed, and the engine on Gabrielle's hand me down car chugged to life. I jumped up and ran to the front facing window in the master bedroom. Sure enough, Gabby was behind the wheel, backing out of our suburban driveway.
"Damn it, Gabs!" My 17-year-old echoed my thoughts from his own bedroom. She was in such a hurry to escape the house, escape me, that she'd left Smith behind.
"What's going on?" My wife rolled and stretched, trying to wake up and comprehend the latest household drama.
With a sigh, I lied. "No big deal, babe. Gabby and Smith are probably bickering. She left without him."
I made my way to the bathroom to handle business when I heard her mumble, "Talk some sense into her, will ya?"
It had long been established in the Vernier household that Gabrielle was incapable of hearing anything that came out of her mom's mouth. I attributed it to the fact that most teenage girls have selective hearing, but Stella, my lovely wife, insisted it was because Gabby is a tried and true Daddy's Girl. That morning, I wanted nothing more than for Gabby to literally become Daddy's Girl.
Me: Straight home after school! Understand??
I pounded out the short text to my girl before tossing the phone on the bathroom counter and trying to take a piss with a raging hard on.
It was a tough claim to make, considering the night before she'd snuck a boy into the house and let him finger fuck and eat her out on our couch, but Gabrielle really was a good girl. So the moods and the drama hadn't magically disappeared when she turned 18, three weeks prior, and she'd always rebelled in small ways, but she was never an outright bitch to me or her mother. She fought with her brother, but she'd often fought FOR him too until he grew into himself, found his identity, and then found his people. That's why when I received her reply saying simply, 'OK, Dad', I trusted that she would be home right after school. And that was why I made a plan to ignore my impatient cock all day, no matter what.
Gabrielle and I were going to have a chat.
****
It wasn't hard to convince Stella to take a short nap before her shift at the hospital. I dangled the prospect of a nice dinner in front of her under the guise of doing something sweet while she rested after spending her day tackling bills and mundane household chores. And technically, she did deserve it, but let's face it, I needed as much privacy as possible for this conversation with my daughter and I was too impatient to wait any longer.
At 2:45 I took my place on a stool at our kitchen island. All day I had tried to focus on my work as a freelance editor. Needless to say, the shit I'd paged through paled in comparison to the story of my life at that moment. Working from home had several benefits, but not when you were struggling to get out of your own head, to stop remembering the smell of your daughter's aroused cunt, and refrain from wasting the load you were trying to save just for her.
After the longest seventeen minutes of my life, I heard tires in the driveway. I took a deep breath, silenced my cell, and laid it out of reach. With nothing else to busy my hands, I balled them into fists and kept them glued to the granite about as far away as they could be from my dick.
The backdoor opened and Gabrielle again spotted me immediately, but this time she wasn't surprised to see me. Her eyes did not go wide. They roamed my expressionless face which I thought was brave as hell since her breathing seemed to betray her nonchalance.
After she slid off her coat and slung it over an arm on the coat rack, she walked slowly to the side of the island opposite me and deposited her bag on top. Not only were her breaths shallow, her hands were trembling slightly and I couldn't help but wonder how difficult it was for her to remain still and not fidget.
We stared, neither of us saying anything at first. It felt like the temperature in the room was rapidly rising. I could hear the clock Stella inherited from her grandmother ticking away the seconds in the living room. I couldn't remember ever noticing it before. Everything in my tiny little world was turned up to ten in that moment.
"Where's your brother?" I asked her, still not moving or taking my eyes off her.
"He said he was going to Dean's." Gabby's voice was shaky and so quiet I started to wonder if she was truly scared. I expected her to be embarrassed or ashamed considering how strict Stella could be. I had also braced for the possibility that she would be furious or disgusted with me, though the night before I'd seen a lot of things play across Gab's features and disgust was definitely not one of them. Finally, she said, "Where's Mom?"
"She's taking a nap before work."
Gabby nodded slightly. It took her several moments, but she eventually asked, "Did you tell her Mitch was here last night?"
I took a deep breath before answering, mostly to calm my racing heart, but I also didn't hate keeping my girl in suspense for a few beats either. "No Gabby."
