I’m Scared, Daddy!

I’m Scared, Daddy!

It was marriage second time around for both Frank and Yvonne, and in truth they were best friends with benefits, rather than being in love. But they had been together for four years, and the relationship worked; as well as having loads in common, he earned really good money – more than Yvonne’s first husband ever had, so she was happy with her vastly-improved lifestyle, and she was a great cook, which was important to Frank, as he couldn’t cook toast! They were faithful to each other and had a moderately active sex life, so overall, it was a successful relationship.

Yvonne’s seventeen-year-old daughter, Gillian – or Jilly as she preferred to be called – still lived with them. She was a typically cute thirteen-year-old when Yvonne and Frank first met, and Frank had taken to her immediately, even though she had apparently gone off the rails in a major way after her father had walked out, and it took a good couple of years for to settle down. She had recently taken to calling him ‘Dad’ instead of Frank, and he was secretly pleased, hoping he was having a positive influence on her.

He was also very aware that she had grown from a girl into a woman while he had been with Yvonne. She was pretty and curvy in a way that he was struggling to ignore. Although she was an adult now, she was Yvonne’s daughter, and young enough to be his own. As if that wasn’t enough to keep him at bay, he was also sure that she would be totally grossed out if ever did come on to her. It didn’t stop him fantasising about her when he was having sex with Yvonne though, and he was almost sure that Jilly sometimes flirted with him, but he never took it seriously.

One night, when Yvonne was on night-shift, he went to bed early to watch football in bed. It was a treat he could only enjoy when Yvonne was out. Jilly had been in her room all evening. While he was watching the game, he heard Jilly’s door open, and then a knock on his door. He thought he heard her sniff. He slept naked, so he checked he was covered up before inviting her in.

She almost burst into the room and leapt onto the bed, cuddling into him, in tears. She was wearing a tight white tee shirt with no bra, and pink knickers. She had decent-sized breasts and her nipples were pressing against the fabric of her shirt. Her long blonde hair was tied in bunches above her ears. He entertained a fleeting crude thought about her, and then silently reprimanded himself for thinking that way when she was clearly distressed.

When he asked her what was wrong she explained that she had been watching a horror movie, and it had terrified her. She asked if she could sleep in his bed for the night. She was too frightened to go back to her own room. He hesitated, and she apparently took that as a ‘yes’ as she slid straight beneath the quilt with her head on his chest and an arm around his waist, squeezing tight.

He felt he had no choice but to let her cuddle in to him; he would feel awful sending her back to her room in that state, so he just sighed in submission, put an arm around her shoulder, and carried on watching the game, hoping that would distract him from thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking.