What happens under the covers…stays under the covers…

I am a published author who has not always been able to write EXACTLY what I want. Some things are not “acceptable” for publication, and therefore I am grateful there is a site such as this. I realize the story may be lengthy and chapter one does not contain a whole lot of sexual ccontent, but please keep reading, it will definately get steamy…


What happens under the covers…stays under the covers…


“This will surely go down in the record books as the storm of the century.” The meteorologist’s voice bellowed from the 32 inch flat TV screen. That was the last thing Sarah Sheldon heard before the lights flickered, once…twice, and then everything went dark. Her body stiffened, paralyzed by her fear of storms.

“Shit!” she shrieked. “Daddy…? The power’s out!”

Of course he would have already figured that one out for himself, but Sarah had been afraid of storms for as long as she could remember and the idea of sitting alone, staring at nothing but darkness, made her petite body shiver with fear. Or was that because along with the lights, the heat had been instantly severed by the blustery weather as well?

She reached for the throw blanket draped across the back of the couch and wrapped it around herself until just her face was sticking out of the soft fleece. “Daddy!” she yelled again.

“I’m right here, sweetheart.” Sarah couldn’t see him, only the dim beam of light shooting out from the flashlight he held in one hand, which was quickly consuming its last bit of battery power and looked as those it would die at any second, but his deep, soothing voice resonated from somewhere in the curtain of darkness behind her and instantly eased some of the tension that had coiled itself deep inside her. She hated storms. It was her subconscious mind reminding her of the fiery havoc Mother Nature could injuriously inflict upon them at a moments notice. Just as she had done all those years ago when her own mother had been forced to veer off the road to avoid hitting a fallen tree, only to find herself face to face with another much larger, more menacing trunk that she had no hopes of avoiding. It had been the effects of an angry hurricane that had stolen her mother from her that night eight years ago.

Her mother, Danielle, had been alone, on her way home from a double shift at the hospital, braving the heavy, vision impairing rain and blustery winds, while a much younger Sarah and her father waited for her at home. In Sarah’s eyes, all storms had the capability of causing the same heart-wrenching devastation, even this one. The power suddenly going out was proof that this was a storm to be reckoned with too.

She heard her father’s heavy footsteps as he crossed the room. Her eyes were slowly beginning to adjust to the eerie darkness and the puny beam of light her father carried made it possible to just make out his large silhouette as he stopped in front of the bay window and drew back the curtain.

“Looks like everybody is without power.” Michael Sheldon stated calmly.

The streets were vacant except for the occasional car that dared to brave the monumental blizzard despite the cute weatherman’s continuous warnings to stay off the treacherous roads. Sarah had been alone, so totally entranced the handsome face and beaming smile on the TV screen that she had become temporarily distracted from her fears. Her body had felt warm and tingly with a sudden, indescribable dampness formulating between her thighs. Her erotic musings had been shattered instantly, however, by the sudden darkness that had engulfed her and its crude reminder of what was going on outside.

As a slow moving vehicle crept passed their house, Michael could see just how bad the storm had gotten as the car’s headlights illuminated the heavy snowfall that was quickly transforming their quiet neighborhood into a dangerous blanket of white. He hated storms, perhaps just as much as his young daughter did. The painful memories that always managed to surface during a time like this left him cold and trembling, and it wasn’t due to the temperature. He had lost half of his soul that night eight years ago as his beautiful wife, his best friend and mother to their only child, fought exhaustion to get home to them after covering a shift for a co- worker who was unable to make it in because of the storm. Dani had refused to listen when Michael had asked her to stay put, wait out the storm in one of the staff bunkrooms. She had wanted to be home with her family and so ignored his warnings. Now she was lost to him forever.

The pain was sometimes just as raw as if it had happened only yesterday, yet Michael had somehow managed to put the pieces of their shattered life back together. For the sake of his daughter, Dani’s daughter, he had no choice, he couldn‘t fail either one of them.

Being a single father wasn’t always easy, however. A social life was virtually nonexistent when you have a small life depending on you every second of the day. At least that’s what Michael had repeatedly told himself over the years. Sarah is a teenager now, a beautiful, spirited young lady who willingly takes a great deal of the workload off of his own tired shoulders, leaving him plenty of time for dating, but Michael often chooses not to.

Sarah has become his entire world now that her mother is gone and being with her is what makes him happy, keeps him going when he recalls how life has disappointed him.

“Do you think the power will be off for long, Daddy” Sarah asked, a shiver trailing up the length of her spine.

His daughter’s voice sounded so small coming from the other side of the room and although Michael could barely see her, he didn’t miss the fear that laced her concerned words. Although she would be turning 16 next month, it was sometimes hard not to think of her as his little girl. While other times, when she walked through the house in just a T-shirt and tiny pair of panties, just like she was wearing tonight and every other night before bed, he would find himself taking note of all the wonderful changes that has taken shape in his young daughter’s body. Her breast, although not overly large, appeared high and perky with perfectly taut nipples that would often press against the thin fabric of her shirt whenever she was cold, which seemed to be quite often lately. Her ass was perfectly rounded, not too big, not to small. Just the way he likes it.

The way he likes it? Why should it matter if his daughter has an ass that he likes? It doesn’t matter; Michael reminded himself quickly, she’s my daughter. She looks more and more like her mother everyday. That’s the only reason he assesses her beauty, takes careful note of the vibrant green eyes that sit in her perfect, heart shaped face and … the sexy little body that she does little to conceal while walking around in front of him.

Sexy? Was Sarah, his baby girl… sexy? The same child who had refused to let him out of her sight for almost two years following her mother‘s death, gripped by the fear that if he left the house he might never come back, just as she had done. The same fragile youth who oftentimes woke up screaming in the middle of the night, even now, as another nightmare shatters her peaceful slumber. The same selfless young woman who spends little time doing the things that teenagers normally do, and more time taking care of his needs. That Sarah? Was she sexy? Hell yeah, he reluctantly admitted to himself.

Since Dani’s death he has always seen Sarah as the sweet, fragile daughter who craves her father’s love and protection, and Michael has been all to happy to give her his complete devotion, but was it possible that his innocent little girl has grown up? That while he fought against the pain, refusing to let go of his dead wife‘s ghost, Sarah has come to need him less and less? Was it possible she no longer needed him as much as he needed her? The thought was daunting. After all, the old Sarah would have climbed onto his lap and clung fiercely to his shirtfront the minute the first light flickered, but the new, older Sarah, was still perched on the sofa, silently enduring the darkness.

Michael stared at her for several long minutes. For as long as he could remember it has been just him and Sarah. Camping, fishing, weekend dinner dates and movie tickets, everything they did, they did together. Occasionally Michael would chastise himself for monopolizing too much of his teenaged daughter’s time, just to ease his own loneliness, and would force himself to go out on a date, but it usually didn’t amount to anything more than a friendly dinner and a peck on the cheek at the end of the night. He would always promise to call them, but then he rarely ever did. He could probably count the number of times he has had sex, since his wife’s death, on one hand. Of course that doesn’t include the routine jack off sessions his body requires just to achieve a moment of peace, contentment that would last long enough to overlay the haunting memories that made it impossible to fall asleep.

He needs a woman in his bed, and not just for sex. The loneliness that consumes his nights was, at times, unbearable. He misses the closeness that he used to share with Dani, her soft voice being the last thing he heard before closing his eyes. None of the women he dated seemed good enough to meet his Sarah. She was so precious to him, so sweet and innocent. He loved being with her, loved making her smile. She had a beautiful smile, perfect white teeth and soft, red lips, the kind that looked as though they would feel and taste amazing.

Taste amazing? What the fuck?

“Daddy I’m c-cold.”

Michael brushed away the disturbing image of him kissing Sarah in a way that was anything but fatherly and rushed over to where his little girl sat shivering on the sofa.

He really needed to consider getting laid.

He slid beneath the blanket and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his large body. His hands rubbed briskly up and down her arms, over her back, attempting to warm her delicate flesh.

She snuggled against him, sighing happily as she soaked up the heat that radiated from his body. “You smell so good, Daddy.” she whispered as she inhaled deeply. Her small hand mindlessly slid inside and up the front of his sweatshirt and lightly stroked the thin patch of hair that covered his hard chest, wanting desperately to crawl inside his skin and be consumed by his warmth.

Her father was only 34 and his youthfulness showed in his strong, well maintained physique.