My Father's Best Friend's Secret Baby

by Jamie Knight

  She had felt my dick. While it was hard. That meant she knew I was excited. I wondered how she felt about that. Did she think that I was some sort of sick weirdo? I couldn't be sure. She just sat there, like I did, staring off into the distance.

  I wanted to say something, find a way to explain myself. But, how could I? Every time I got ready to turn and say something, I quickly dismissed it. There was really nothing that I could say. I just sat and waited to see what happened.

  We still hadn't talked about the kiss from the other day. I hadn't quite figured that out, in my head. I hadn’t figured out what it was really about. She did talk about how frustrated she was with the counter guy. Maybe that's all that it was.

  Or maybe it was more than that. What I did know for certain was that the kiss had turned me on more than I was comfortable with. And the kiss had made my mind start craving her, in ways that I hadn't expected.

  Now this.

  I wondered what would happen if I wrapped my arm around her and just rested it there. Maybe something romantic would come of it. But, then, that would make it seem like the erection was part of some elaborate scheme that I had been putting together. Even though I was completely turned on by her, I didn't want her to feel like I was trying to make something happen between us. Because, actually, the opposite was true.

  I was trying hard to dismiss the feelings for her that I was having. I had so much respect for her father and, by extension her. And the more time that I spent with her, the more respect and understanding grew inside me.

  But also, the more time that we spent together, the more I seemed to develop real feelings for her, too.

  My thoughts raced all over the map. It was almost like I was watching things happening around me, but I wasn't quite participating anymore.

  Two hours had come and gone and the movie credits were rolling again before I snapped out of it.

  “Another movie?” asked Natalia softly, still staring off into the distance at the TV.

  She sounded uncertain, like she was still trying to put things together herself. But, I thought that it was a good sign that she was asking about watching another movie. Maybe it was just her, being nice. Or maybe it was that she was just as curious to see what would happen between us as I was becoming.

  Curious or not, too much had happened that I didn't feel comfortable with. James had trusted me enough to leave me in his house with his daughter. And I didn't want to do anything to betray that trust. I decided that it would be best for me to head off to bed.

  “I don't think that I could stay awake for another movie,” I said, yawning. “I'm tired and I have a lot that I need to take care of in the morning. Your father was kind enough to let me stay here in the house so that I could have a chance to get myself together without having to worry about being alone, on the street. It's time for me to get going, put my best foot forward and get things done. Good night, Natalia.”

  I stood up and walked down the hallway toward the bathroom. I closed the door and stood staring at myself in the mirror.

  What was happening to me? I wondered to myself. I had so much respect for women in general and especially, Natalia. I respected her a lot. She might have been young, and we might have just met, but there was so much about her that made me appreciate her as a person, as a woman. And yet, there I was, having unsavory thoughts about her.

  I felt a deep sense of disappointment in myself. But I couldn’t seem to help wanting to defile her, to do degrading things to her.

  I wanted to see her down on her knees for me, so I could shove my cock all the way into her mouth. And then bent over on all fours, so I could use her tight, wet pussy to my cock’s delight. If I had my way, I’d cum inside her and then let it shoot all over her cute body she kept insisting on showing off to me. I knew exactly what she wanted, and I’d give it to her. And while I did it, I’d mark her and claim her as my own.

  I splashed water on my face, hoping that maybe it would wash away what was passing through my mind, even though I knew that it didn't work that way.

  I told myself that, maybe after a night's sleep, I would wake up and things would be different. No, not maybe. I was determined that they would be different.

  My resolve seemed to strengthen with each step that I took toward my bedroom. As I was passing Natalia's door, I paused. I heard a sound coming from her cracked door. It sounded like she was crying or hurt. I couldn't be sure, but I wanted to make sure that she was okay before I went to bed, just in case.

  I inched closer to her door and the sound grew louder. I heard moaning and her breathing was heavy. I peeked in, my hand on the door, ready to go in and help her.

  Then, I saw her. Even though it was mostly dark, I could still make out her figure lying on the bed.

  She had her hands snaking down below her tight waist. She was playing with her pussy. Her hand was moving, around and around, while her hips gyrated, meeting the movement of her hand. She moaned and panted softly.

  I thought that my heart would beat out of my chest as I stood there watching her. My palms grew sweaty. I swallowed hard, hoping that she wouldn't notice that I was standing there, my eyes locked on her as she pleased herself with her hands. She moved faster and faster, her moans growing louder and louder.

  And then it happened.

  “Bradley,” she moaned, her voice raspy and helpless-sounding.

  My heart all but stopped. I felt caught. Exposed, like I had been found doing something that I had no business doing. I took a deep breath and prepared to show myself fully, to open her door apologetically, to explain that I thought that she had been in trouble, or that something was wrong and I wanted to make sure that everything was okay.

  But, something made me stop. I took a closer look inside of her room and noticed that her eyes were still closed.

  What did that mean?

  It took me a moment to realize that she wasn't looking at me, only thinking about me. The realization came crashing down on me like a ton of bricks. The whole time that I was thinking that I was the only one having wrong thoughts about her, she was thinking the same thoughts, or at least similar ones, about me—thoughts that were enough for her to groan my name, while having an orgasm, while she was playing with her pussy.

  Wow.

  It was a lot to process right then. I backed away from her door slowly, trying to move as quietly as possible so that she wouldn't hear me.

  I had to stop myself from running away from the door and away from this new reality, one that I wasn't quite sure how I would escape, or if I even wanted to.

  Chapter 20

  Natalia

  I woke up early the next morning, excited for the prospect of spending another day with Bradley. I was growing more attracted to him with each passing day. And he seemed to enjoy my company, too. If only I knew for certain how he really felt.

  I got up and made some eggs and toast for two. I wasn't sure when he was going to wake up, but I didn't want to knock on the door and bother him if he was resting well. Even though he was very charming and quick-witted in a way that made me feel like he was not so old, I knew that he had been through a lot. The fact that he walked with a cane and limped spoke volumes.

  I caught him sitting rubbing his knee and wincing last night, but I wasn't sure if he noticed me looking. There was so much about him that was so strong, but his injuries made me see just how human he really was.

  I put his plate in the microwave instead and figured that I would just heat it up whenever he woke up. An hour went by, and still no Bradley. After two hours, I started to wonder if something was wrong.

  Did I scare him off? Had he packed up in the middle of the night and high-tailed it out of here? Or was he hiding in his room, waiting to see if I would leave so that he wouldn't have to see me?

  I went back and forth what had happened the night before.

  I definitely had reached over and grabbed a handful of his manhood while watching the movie last night. Neither one of us said anything afterward
. I was completely mortified. I couldn't believe that I had been so careless so as to not to look where I was grabbing.

  And the fact that it had been hard had caught me off guard.

  Was he turned on, or was it just some reaction his body was having? I didn't know a lot about penises since I didn't have one, and had never seen one, but I thought that I remembered reading somewhere that penises can be hard for reasons other than being turned on.

  It was something that I definitely wasn't going to ask Bradley to clarify for me. As far as I was concerned, it would be just like the kiss: something that happened between us, but that neither one of us touches with a ten foot pole in terms of figuring out what it means.

  But, that didn't stop me from wanting to see him, to spend time with him. But, it looked like I had messed that up being all grabby hands.

  I cursed myself silently.

  I had to get to the bottom of things. And fast.

  I tried making as much noise as possible. I was banging pots and pans loud enough for the sound to travel down the hallway. I put on loud music on the surround sound, knowing that with the speakers scattered all around the house that there would be no way that he couldn't hear it, even if he was sleeping.

  I felt kind of bad at the idea of waking him, but my curiosity was getting the better of me.

  Just before I had decided to march up to his bedroom door and knock so that I could have my answer once and for all, he walked into the kitchen wearing a tailored summer-weight suit.

  Yowza.

  It was navy blue and light green and gave him a professional look yet also made him seem very casual and cool. The suit was cut perfectly—it accented his broad chest, trim waist and impressive height. He looked like a model. I smiled so hard that my cheeks hurt. I was relieved to finally see him standing before me, and excited for what the day might bring.

  “What's the occasion?” I said, trying to sound as casual as I could myself. I mentally started going through my closet, trying to think of what I could throw on, in case he had planned on us going out somewhere. I eagerly wanted to hear where he planned to go. But, honestly, it wouldn't matter where. As long as we got to spend the day together, we could go for a walk through the sewers.

  “Oh, uh, I have a... date,” he said, looking away nervously. He chuckled and rubbed his neck.

  I stood there in shock, staring at him, my eyes unblinking. It was almost like I couldn't find my tongue for a few minutes. I hadn't expected those words, not one bit. I thought that, for sure, especially after last night, that he would want to go out or something. I was crushed. But I struggled to stay calm, and look unbothered.

  “Oh, that's awesome,” I said in a fake cheerful voice. “I hope you guys have fun.”

  I turned, to try busying myself with a pile of papers on the kitchen counter.

  “Thanks,” said Bradley, shifting from one foot to the other. He had a look on his face like he was worried.

  I slipped a look in his direction and wondered if he was hesitating because of the look on my face, or if it was something else. I felt completely betrayed. And I was sure that he sensed it. He shook his head like he changed his mind about saying something, quickly said goodbye, and walked out the door, letting it slam hard behind him.

  Chapter 21

  Natalie

  I stood there for a minute, letting the quiet of the house envelop me. When I was sure that he was gone, I burst into tears. It was like a dam was breaking because, once I started, I couldn't stop. I cried loud, sobbing tears. I ran to my room, my vision blurry while I ran, and threw myself on the bed. The sobs ripped through my body, shaking me, and the bed right along with it.

  I felt so sad. Just when I thought that things were okay, that maybe there was a chance of something happening between us, this steps in the way. And blindsides me. I couldn't believe this was happening.

  I grabbed my phone from the edge of my bed and texted Grace.

  Me: It's over. Bradley went on a date. The plan failed and now there's nothing that I can do but sit here and cry.

  Typing the words in my phone made me feel that sense of helplessness all over again, starting another avalanche of tears.

  The tears definitely came because I was sad, but also because I was angry. It actually made me mad, being so sad. I was angry for expecting that anything could have happened between us in the first place. Why would someone his age, someone who was close friends with my dad, even want me in that way? The more questions that raced through my mind, the more tears seemed to flow.

  My phone notification went off.

  Grace: I'm so sorry, Natalia. That really sucks.

  Me: I know. And now, I don't know what to do.

  I sat with my phone in my hand, staring at the screen, waiting for a response. The screen went black and I could see my reflection. My eyes were beet red and my face was wet. I looked terrible. But, it didn't matter in that moment. The only thing that mattered to me was that I had somehow let the chance to get Bradley's attention slip right through my fingers.

  I felt like I had driven him into the arms of another woman. Maybe he had seen through my childish antics at trying to seduce him and decided to do what grown ups do. I had so many questions that I felt would be left unanswered now that he had shifted his romantic attention somewhere else. Surely, he would have no interest in seeing where something could spark between us.

  The phone dinged again. I pulled it closer to my face, eager to read her response.

  Grace: Well, it seems the only thing left to do now is to nurse your wounds over Haagen- Daaz and good movies.

  I burst into tears again, tears I didn't even know that I had left inside of my body after all of the tears that I had already cried. I texted her back, telling her thanks for the advice, and threw my phone back across the bed. I lied there staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes, trying to pull myself together.

  As sad as I was, I knew that I would have to find a way to get over it. I had no choice. I didn't want to drive myself crazy, vying for the attention of a man that I could never have. There were jail cells and mental hospitals for people like that, and I didn't want to be added to their ranks.

  I dragged myself out of the bed and headed straight for the freezer. I knew that my carton of mint chocolate ice cream had been left untouched, since my dad hated it. But he always made sure there was a carton of it waiting for me when I needed it.

  That was one thing that my mother made sure my father knew.

  When I was younger and there was potentially upsetting news, my mom would grab the carton of ice cream out of freezer and sit it on the counter. It was how I knew that she had news that was going to be upsetting.

  I remember her sitting me down one time when I was twelve, and telling me about my dog, Bella. She was my beloved companion since I was two years old, and she had gotten cancer.

  My mother told me that she was already working with the vet to come up with a good treatment plan for her, but she just wanted me to know what was going on. Over the next few months, I waited for Bella to deteriorate but she continued to look strong and healthy, stumping the doctors.

  I came home from school one day and Bella wasn't there. My mom was sitting at the kitchen table with a container of ice cream. I broke down in tears before she had a chance to even tell me anything.

  “Why are you crying?” my mom asked, a worried look on her face.

  “Because you have ice cream,” I said, hiccupping out my words. “I know that when you have ice cream, it must be something bad. What's going on?”

  She stared at the table like she was trying to figure out the best way to give me really bad news. She sighed heavily before speaking.

  “It's about Bella, honey,” she said, wringing her hands nervously. “She was limping so I had to take her into the vet. They’re keeping her there for observation and testing. They don’t know what will happen.”

  Tears slipped from the corner of her eyes before she had a chance to turn her face an
d wipe them away.

  “Mom, is this really bad?” I asked, starting to get scared.

  My mom almost never cried. The last time that I had seen her cry was at my grandfather's funeral. So, for her to be sitting there crying, I just feared the worst. She was almost as attached to Bella as I was.

  “Honey, I... it just hit me that Bella isn’t always going to be with us. I know the vet told us that months ago, but I guess it really hadn’t hit home because she was such a tough cookie. Now that the signs are pointing to her deterioration, I’m just trying to get us ready for the bad news. I don’t know how to do it. How do I help you through this?”

  She stopped talking, like the words pained her. She looked at me, her eyes full of sorrow.

  I thought I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. I knew what my mom was feeling when it came to Bella. She had been my first friend. With all the traveling our family had done, I knew that I would always have her as my trusted companion. Hearing my mother speak these hard truths really hurt, even though I was starting to understand what she was saying, and even wanting to make her feel better. I guess I was starting to grow up.

  “You know what, Mom?” I asked her, putting my arm around her. “I don’t think there is any way to get through it except to just do it. At least we still have each other. And this ice cream. Can I have some?”

  That had elicited a small smile from her, and we shared the rest of the carton. Bella eventually returned home from the vet, with stronger pain meds. It was the beginning of a sharper decline, but not the end, for her— it wasn’t as bad or as imminent as we had feared and Bella continued to defy the odds for quite a while after that.

  But I had no idea how much that little talk with my mom would resonate in my mind with the passing of time. Years later, after my mom had died, I looked back at that moment as preparing me for the loss of my mother. Of course, nothing could have ever fully prepared me for that moment, but the depth of loss was one that touched me to my core.