A Change Of Mind

A Change Of Mind

<This is my first post. Sadly, I had to write it using notepad. I hope it’s not too confusing. Also… If anyone would like to help me with editing, please let me know. Keep the negativity to a minimum in comments, but constructive criticism is welcome. Thanks for reading :)>

I was into my third pitcher of some off-brand Irish Red

when the “too-tall-brunette” approached my table. She had that

tell tale look of too many whiskey sours and not enough self-

appreciation. She was well put together, having chosen a sateen

dress the sank low enough down her chest to show the

malnourishment in the visibility of her sternum and the slight

swell of her small breasts as they disappeared behind the material.

It was fairly short, stopping high on her thighs at the dangerous

line of showing us all if she were wearing panties that night if she

had some obstacle to step over. Brief eye contact and a complacent

look told her she was welcome to continue her approach. She

turned the chair so she’d be facing me directly without having to go

through the trouble of turning her head to speak to me. She sat,

giving the chair a little scoot forward as her legs crossed exposing

more thigh than I deem tasteful. Especially considering her thighs

weren’t much bigger than my biceps. Her one saving grace came

with her opening line. She was brundt, honest, not giving any note

of struggle in her intended purpose in the club that night.
“Do you wanna fuck me?” She said it with that slight head wobble

of confident sarcasm with her final word turning into a sort of

open mouth smirk before closing into a seductive smile. Her next

move was expected, looking down briefly for aim before taking her

straw into her mouth with her lips pursed much more than

necessary in an attempt to appeal to my fantasies of fellatio as the

cylindrical object slid in and out slowly during her sip. She was

fixed on succeeding, and, if I were any other man, I’d have her

stumbling behind me in her too high heels as I dragged her out to

my vehicle to give her a sure answer to her question. Though, she

wasn’t prepared for my response. I dropped my head a bit, with a

soft smile and a breathless half laugh. I then looked up with the

same soft smile and an inquisitive squint as I pondered the best

way to decline.
“See… The majority of men have these mental responses to the

sight of a female. They see a woman like the brunette by the bar.

Her hips are wide, suggesting the form of child bearing. Her

breasts are ample without being imposing. Her hair naturally

beautiful, lacking the obviously false bright highlights or the

dramatic sheen of way too many hair products. And her face… You

can see she isn’t a fan of make-up, and she doesn’t need it. The

sight is a natural beauty. In our minds, she’s near perfect. All we

need to know is if she’s capable of forming words into sentences

properly enough that we don’t have to struggle to decipher her

meaning. And while many would say she’s overweight, most of us

men, if we were being honest and able to overcome our hard-on for

adjusting to current social standards, would say that she is by far

the most attractive female in the room, and possibly in a ten mile

radius.”
I continued looking at the plump brunette as I picked up

my glass for a long drink. It was almost as if I had forgotten too-tall

was even sitting there for a few seconds. Then, looking over, I knew

I’d made my point with her. She had those “are you serious” eyes,

and her previously on-display lips had tightened up like a drum. I

smirked a bit, having a sense of pride in my ability to tear down the

esteem of this girl who most fools would call a goddess. She looked

down and away, ensuring herself that she had not sparked my

interest. She stood, smoothing her dress, picked up her glass with

a jerk and walked away.
“Have a nice night” I offered a parting word that she ignored. My

eyes returned to the better looking brunette. I gave myself about a

half second before deciding I didn’t need to talk to her, finished my

last glass and left the club.
The only reason I went to that club was to wind down

with some drinks. And these days, it was so infrequent, the

waitresses didn’t even remember my name anymore. I suppose my

lifestyle and age were no longer that of the club hopping type.

Thankfully. Being 39 and a single father didn’t leave much time for

a social life. I continued pondering these thoughts and recalling

barely the last time I had taken an offer like too-tall’s as I pulled

into my driveway. Looking at my home, it’s no mistake that long

hours and no friends can help to build quite the lavish life. My

house was much too large for myself and my daughter, but we

managed to fill the space with enough stuff to make it look like a

comfortable home and less like a warehouse. Since I dedicated

myself to work and raising my daughter, I’ve done everything in

my power to be sure she had everything she wants and needs.
Alicia, my daughter, was 8 years old when her mother

passed away. It was a car accident of her own fault. I guess it’s not

such a great idea to drink a fifth of tequila before heading to pick

your child up from school. I’m thankful everyday that she never

made it to the babysitter’s house. We were separated at the time,

though Alicia always spent more time with me, work allowing. She

preferred my company over the lethargic half attentionshe

received from her mother. After the wreck, I devoted every waking

minute to her. I showed her as much love and care as I could to

distract her from the fact that her mother was never coming back.

Surprisingly enough, she never seemed to mourn. Two years later

she actually told me, in her best “I’m-a-big-girl” performance, that

she didn’t care that mommy was dead because mommy wasn’t a

good person and never took care of herself. I nearly lost it.
I guess I managed to do my fatherly duty. She never

went without anything and knew I loved and cared for her. She

was always in the know about things when her age and bodily

changes cam about. I even went as far as to have the birds and

bees talk when she began having her period. I wasn’t shy about it. I

didn’t stumble over the words or try to beat around the bush.

Beyond all that, she was well educated, well rounded in morals and

behavior, and just a good girl. I was proud of her. And there we

were. Four years after her mother’s death, we had become a well

adjusted family. Just the two of us.
It was actually just a week after her birthday when our

lives began to change. It was a normal day, she had come home

from school, done her homework, and was showering before

dinner. Like any other day. I was bringing a load of laundry to my

bedroom when I heard her yell for me. In her always playful

manner.
“Daaaad!!” Then a moment’s pause too short for any response

before repeating. “Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad! Dad!”
I laughed and shook my head. “Yes, dear!” I was at my bedroom

door, just five feet away from the bathroom.
“I forgot to get a towel!! Bring me one!!” This wasn’t uncommon.

She’d forget, I’d grab a towel from the linen closet at the end of the

hall, and hand it to her through a cracked bathroom door.

Innocent and simple. Not this time…
“One second, sweetheart!” I walked to the end of the hall, opened

the door, and grabbed a towel. I turned to head to the door when

she yelled out again.
“I’m so cold! I’m coming to get it!” I kept walking, assuming I’d be

at the door before she could exit. I was stopped stone cold in my

tracks when she came bounding out the door. She saw me stall and

stopped. I dropped the towel almost instantly as the sight hit my

eyes. She was dripping wet, and obviously cold, as evidenced by

her tight, hardened, young nipples standing up on her barely a-

cup breasts. Her hair was pulled mostly behind her back, but the

strands left over her shoulders made for a continuing water

supply, streaming over her torso and following her natural curves

over her hips and between her legs. Of course, my eyes betrayed

my better judgement as I took in the sight of her pussy. It was

completely smooth. I couldn’t decide if she hadn’t grown any hair

yet, or she’d been grooming herself. My eyes continued down,

appreciating the sight of her legs as they glistened in the hallway

light. They weren’t the slender, immature legs of a girl her age.

They had taken a more feminine shape. following the more than

appealing swell of her hips, taking that gentle dip in at the knees,

then the wide flare at the top of the calves and perfectly toned

down to delicate ankles. As my eyes shot back up to hers, I enjoyed

the foreshadowing of a perfect hourglass shape that was begging to

take form. As our eyes met again, I had a brief thought of comfort

realizing it had only been about 2 and a half seconds for all of this

to occur. Her arms clamped over her chest.
“Ya gonna gimme the towel, daddy?” She spoke in a higher pitch,

and gentler tone than usual. My head was whirling. Luckily I was

able to act fast enough. I reached down and picked up the towel,

hurriedly moving forward and throwing it around her shoulders

and pulling it together in front of her arms. The way the towel

swallowed up her tiny form brought me back to reality.
“I’m so sorry, baby. You caught me off guard.” I feigned a smile

and turned away, heading into my bedroom.
“It’s ok, daddy” was all I heard as she pranced off to her bedroom.
I entered my room, closed the door quietly, and leaned

back against it. I closed my eyes tight as my head landed against

the door. And of course, as they closed, the image I had just seen

took over. That perfect little body. Dripping wet. All the right

curves glowing in the light. Her little half-surprised, half-scared,

innocent look on her face. The way the valleys of her hips sloped

into her mound. My god, I thought, it was the most beautiful pussy

I had ever seen. I shook my head. Opened my eyes, feeling the burn

as the light hit them. I looked down, kind of mumbling to myself.

Nothing coherent. Just making sounds as my brain worked like a

freight train to expel the image. My eyes closed again, and there

she was. The way her left foot turned in a bit. Not a defect, just a

result of her quick halt. Even that small detail had me going crazy.

Her innocence was the primary factor. Even if she were a foot

taller and had l arger breasts, her innocence still would’ve had me

at a loss. I had to gain some composure. I had to eliminate these

feelings I was having. As I began to open my eyes, my evil hand

went straight for my cock. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized I

was harder than I had ever been in my life. My hand gripped it

gently over my shorts. I groaned almost silently. Then gave in. I

dipped my hand into my shorts and came in contact. My cock had

never been so hard, so hot, nor had it throbbed so much. It was

like holding a beating heart. I stroked it slowly, my thumb on the

top side, three fingers along the bottom ridge. I closed my eyes

again. She was still there. It took all of fifteen seconds before I was

blasting a massive load of cum into my shorts. My mind was

immediately thankful that I had a master bath to clean myself up. I

was just taking my cum covered hand out of my shorts when the

quick double knock of my daughter startled me.
“Daddy! What’s for dinner?” Your pussy. I shook my head again.

Damn my lack of a sex life at this very moment.
“Just a minute, baby. I’m changing.” I knew she wouldn’t come in

if I said that. I walked to the bathroom as I heard her footfalls

diminishing down the hall. After a quick clean up and a change of

shorts, I headed downstairs.
Walking past the living room on the way to the kitchen, I

glanced nervously toward the couch, seeing her sitting there

watching tv like any other night. She didn’t seem spooked at all. I

knew she heard me come down, but she didn’t turn and give me

some weird look, like “what a perv”. She just went about her

business like nothing had happened. I had no such luck. I had to

keep my composure.
“What are ya hungry for, sweetheart?” I always used pet names,

unless she was in trouble. I felt like if I used those terms of

endearment, she would never question my affections. Of course

now my mind lashed out at me. -You’d like to see just how sweet

she is- So frustrating.
“I dunno, daddy… How ’bout pizza?” I was off the hook. I knew I

couldn’t keep my head clear enough to cook a decent meal.
“Sure thing. I’ll get it ordered.” I picked up the phone and ordered

our usual large pepperoni and large sausage and green pepper

pizzas. We always got the same thing. Sort of a routine when it

came to pizza hunger. After hanging up and laying the money on

the table in anticipation, I knew I had to join her in the living room.

I gave myself a silent pep talk. Telling myself that I could withstand

her near proximity without going back to the vision of her

immaculate nakedness. I walked toward the living room.
As I entered, she glanced up at me before returning her

eyes to whatever cartoon network show she had found. As I sat on

the opposite end of the couch, she looked over and began to move.

-Not my lap. Not my lap. Not my lap-
“What’re ya doin’ way over there?” She bounced over to me, threw

one leg over mine and nestled in beside me. This was our usual tv

watching posture. She enjoyed being cuddled. She was a very

touch oriented person. She turned more toward me, sliding an arm

over my stomach and hugging herself tighter against me. I was

going crazy. After my little fantastic session in my bedroom, I was

still a little on the aroused side. Her firm, warm thigh over mine,

mostly exposed as she wore those soffe cotton shorts with the

waistband rolled up at all times in the house. Her arm wrapped

around me, drawing my attention to the fact that her braless

breasts were pressed against me, separated only by the thin

material of our shirts. I swear I could feel her nipples. As if they

could still be hard from earlier. I shook my head a bit, clearing the

thoughts. I was hard again. Not entirely engorged, but enough that

she’d probably notice if she moved her leg over a few inches, or if I

had to stand to pay for the pizza. The doorbell rang at the instant

the thought crept through. I rose slowly, trying to keep my pelvis

turned away enough as I passed her. I wasn’t hiding anything. I

knew, if she had looked up, she would’ve seen the bulge. I just kept

walking.
“Pizza’s here” I tried to keep other subjects in mind. Dinner. Tv.

Drinking a beer with dinner. Baseball. Anything! It wasn’t

working.
Embarrassedly, I paid for the pizza with a half raging

erection pushing my shorts out a good four inches. Luckily, my

doorway is dimly lit, and the pizza delivery boy made no gesture of

notice. After paying, I closed the door and laid the pizza’s on the

table.
“What’ll ya have to drink, baby?”
“Water is fine, daddy”
I filled her glass, and grabbed myself a beer from the

fridge, then skillfully picked up the pizzas and headed back to the

living room. I thought surely the shadow of the pizza boxes would

conceal the bulge this time. I moved around the coffee table and sat

as I set the pizzas down on the table. I then sat our drinks down,

opened the box, and retrieved a piece for myself before settling

back, crossing my legs to avoid her cuddling and to cover my

erection that just wouldn’t quit.
“Uh… You didn’t bring me a beer?!” She joked. She knew I

wouldn’t cave on that point, but loved to play on the subject all the

time.
“Haha… I know you’ve been sneaking them behind my back! No

more for you!” I joked back.
She sipped at her water before grabbing a piece from her box and

relaxing as she ate.
It was an hour later. I had done well. My erection was

gone. She hadn’t persisted with the cuddling. She had retrieved me

two more beers through that time. It was getting late now.

Probably 9:30. She looked over with her pouty eyes.
“Daddy…