“Have you decided Mademoiselle?”
“Yes, I’ll have the Seafood Tagine please.”
“For you sir?”
“The steak please, medium rare.”
“Would you like an appetizer?”
“Yes, we’d like to share the Terrine de Foies de Volaille,” said Holly, much to the relief of Harry.
“Certainly, I’ll be right back with your wine.”
She looked up at his expression of curiosity and smiled. “I was a waitress a while back, got to know the wine list.”
“That’s useful to know.”
“Hmm, the owner wanted to teach me about it.” She looked up at him, her smile slightly less radiant. “After hours. Free of charge.”
“Oh,” said Harry, not sure if she really meant that the owner expected something in return.
“He had a wine cellar which he showed me around, after every shift. He showed me the expensive wines, as though that would impress me. It was cramped in there and after a few visits he would test my knowledge and press against my bum as he reached for a bottle.”
“Huh, that’s creepy.”
“Other people at the restaurant sort of warned me about him and his wandering hands. Then one day as we were closing up he called me into his office and shut the door. He was smiling and he had been talking about promoting me to a senior waitress which would have been great.” Harry knew though that the news wasn’t good as she was certainly not smiling as she toyed with her fork. “He said that he had been watching me in the restaurant and that I had done OK but would need his personal attention to go any further. He asked if I understood what he meant. I suppose I did, but hoped he had training or something in mind.”
“Hol, I’m sorry,” said Harry, touching the back of her hand.
“Not your fault Daddy. He said that the only benefit that I brought to the restaurant was my looks and that I was a mediocre waitress with not much of a future in anything else. He said he had interviewed loads of girls and I was towards the bottom in terms of intelligence.”
“Jeeze, what a bastard!”
“Yup. Then he said that the only way I would ever get ahead in life is to keep my boss happy, and that I needed to start now. He unzipped his trousers and I saw his thing. It was dark with sort of black patches around it, looked like it was infected. I couldn’t get out of the door fast enough and made it to the toilets before I threw up and cried my eyes out. My Mum collected me and I just said that I had a bad night with some difficult clients.”
“What happened when you had your next shift?”
“He fired me before then. But I spent the next year thinking about that night. Every time I lay on my bed I thought about his words, and wondered if he was right, if I really had no chance to make a living. I really did feel worthless, just good enough to kneel before him and open my mouth, nothing else. My Dad just reinforced the words, telling me that I needed to find a good husband or I’d starve to death.”
The waiter returned with their wine and poured Holly a glass and another for Harry. He left the bottle on the table and they raised their glasses. She forced a smile which developed into a warm grin and a fluttering of her eyelids as she looked across the table at his kind face.
“To what?” asked Holly.
“Not just ‘to us’. Something meaningful.”
Holly looked at him and nodded thoughtfully, “Daddy, can I suggest something?”
“Of course sweetie,” he said, then wondered if the sweetie word had been overdoing it. But she smiled gratefully and looked steadily into his eyes.
“Daddy, at home I spend my time in the kitchen and lounge when just my Mum is there, or only in my bedroom when my Dad is there.”
“Holly,” he interjected, thinking that she was going to run through her problems at the dinner table and maybe break down in tears again.
“No, it’s OK, Daddy, just listen, I promise. What I was going to say is that when I’m in my bedroom I just stare at the ceiling, waiting for arguments to break out, dreading a knock at the door from my Dad, thinking about that guy from the restaurant and his words. But this afternoon, I laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling and felt like a princess.”
“Hol, that’s so nice of you to say that, I’m so glad you feel that way at home. I mean, at the house.”
“I do Daddy, and it’s because of you and the way you’ve taken care of me, like a Dad, a friend, a confidant.”
He smiled at her and squeezed her hand again, a fatherly sense of pride and delight slowly growing in his heart.
“And a lover.” she said.
He opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it then stammered “Well, that as well Hol.” He looked down quickly before he uttered more jumbled words.
“Daddy, at home I have nobody to talk to about grown up things, adult subjects, you know?”
“What about your Mum?”
“Yeah, but she’s too busy and anyway, I am old enough to need them less now. But no boyfriends.”
“Never?”
She shook her head and let go of his hand, breathing in deeply to stifle tears. “Hol.”
“Sorry, that wasn’t what I’ve wanted to say all day. Sorry Daddy.” She sniffed, breathed carefully and then took his hand again. “I mean, we have about a day left, so could we make it a day of sort of ‘no limits’ where as long as we don’t offend or injure each other then we do anything, talk about anything, any subject? I mean, anything legal that won’t get either of us into trouble?”
“Hol, that sounds a bit wild.”
“We can be sensible, just brutally honest. I just don’t have anyone to do that with and maybe you don’t either? At school we sometimes take it in turns to pretend to be a guy and answer questions like a guy might, like for practice, but it’s tame and never like real life. For me, I just don’t have male friends, for you there are boundaries that stop you from experimenting.” She looked up at him, watching his pursed lips and wondering if she had gone too far, too fast in making judgments about his family life.
“So, you’re saying anything legal, full honesty, no limits, twenty-four hours?”
She grabbed his hand, beaming across at him and squeezed. “Yes, exactly!”
“Jeeze, that sounds like trouble!”
“So you’re in, right?”
“OK Hol, let’s try.”
She squealed loud enough for the people two tables away to look round, then brought her hand to her face to hide her embarrassment as she giggled with delight.
“The Terrine de Foies de Volaille,” said the waiter, placing toast and small round terrines on the table
“Does that have port in it?” asked Holly
“No Mademoiselle, no alcohol in there at all.”
“Good, port sends my Dad to sleep and I need him awake when we get home,” said Holly, straight faced.
“Of course Mademoiselle. Enjoy.”
The waiter retreated and Harry stared at her in disbelief. “Oh no, this isn’t going to end well,” he joked as they spread the pate on the toast.
“Holly?” he said after a couple of minutes.
“Hmm?”
“Are you wearing a bra?”
“Oh, well, I don’t remember,” she said and unbuttoned the top of her blouse, reached in and carefully felt around. “Nope!” she said rather loudly and buttoned back up.
Harry laughed at her audacity and conceded that round to her. The waiter removed the starter and almost immediately served their main courses. Harry spread a little horseradish on the side of his plate and took a mouthful of steak and salad.
“Hmm, this is excellent, how’s yours?” he asked.
“It’s great Daddy, thanks.” The restaurant was only moderately busy, surprising for a Saturday night. A party of eight or ten on the other side of their section kept the volume up with raucous laughter and occasional clapping. “Perhaps someone’s stripping?” suggested Holly.
“I don’t think so, but I’ll tell you if
I see anything.”
“Yeah, I’d like to watch,” she said, spooning her fish.
“You would, if it was a girl?”
“Of course, wouldn’t you?” she replied
“Well, yeah.” She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting for his next comment but he just looked at her carefully then shrugged happily.
“Daddy?”
“Oh no. Yes, Holly?”
“Daddy, how often do you shave?”
“Every morning before work, a bit later at weekends.”
“No, not your face.”
“Holly!”
She waited for a few seconds then said “Twenty-four hours, right?”
“You’re so aggressive for a young lady.”
“I have to catch up fast. So?”
“Well, maybe once a week, depends on how I feel.”
“In the bathroom?”
“Yeah, in the shower normally.” His cock was well past the half-way point and had somehow slid downwards towards his leg, peeling back the foreskin which was becoming annoying. She seemed to accept the answer and nodded. “You?”
She grinned at him, joined in battle. “When it irritates, or just before I’m going somewhere special.”
“When did you do it last?” he asked, wondering whether there were actually any boundaries to the game.
She looked at her phone and said “About fifty minutes ago.”
He laughed and shook his head at her. “So this is the sort of conversation you need to have?”
“Yes, it would never normally happen to me. Not to you either, I bet.”
He nodded, looking at her seriously. “Yeah, you’re right.”
“No injuries so far though?”
“Nope, not yet. So where did you get the razor?”
“There was one in the drawer nearest the window. A four-blade thing.”
“That’s the one I used last time.”
“Oh kinky, eh!” she laughed, shaking her head. “Not everything, I left a nice little landing strip.”
“Is everything fine Sir?” asked the waiter, who had almost certainly overheard the ‘landing strip’ comment.
“Yes thanks, it’s very good.”
He watched the waiter go and glanced back to Holly with a conspiratorial look on his face. His heart was beating rapidly as a result of the conversation and imagery that was floating through his head. He pushed the last little bit of salad to the side of the plate and set his knife and fork down.
“Did you play with yourself in the bathroom?” he asked, convinced she would object.
She smiled in acknowledgment of the continuing game. “Sure, for a little while. Did you?”
“Yeah, but not seriously, you know.”
“It felt good right?”
“Yeah, course,” he replied quickly. “What about in bed last night?”
“Are you kidding? After you nearly killed me and I half froze to death? And pooped myself inside out?” He laughed loudly at her crudity, his delight at her company increasing with every minute of their dinner together. She reached out and took his hand again, fingers entwined as before. “I was asleep in minutes.”
“I looked in on you, just to check you were OK, before I went to sleep.”
“Ah, that’s so sweet of you.”
He refilled their glasses and judged that there was about another half glass left for each of them.
“Did we ever have a toast?” he asked.
“No, you’re right. Here’s to honesty!”
“Honesty and freedom to explore!” They clinked glasses and drank, each to their own thoughts. “Do you want a desert?” he asked.
“I don’t think so, not after the starter and all that seafood. Thanks, but you can.”
“No, I’m fine. But I do need one thing.”
She looked at him warily and said “Yes?”
“I need your knickers, Holly.”
“My little pale blue boy-shorts? Is that what you want Daddy?”
“Yes, go to the toilets and change out of them and give them to me when you get back here.”
“The toilets? That’s way too far, I’ll do it here” she said and slid forward on the seat.
“Holly, no, are you crazy?” he hissed, looking around at the other patrons which probably alerted them anyway that something unusual was happening.
“Relax, this way they’ll be warmer,” she giggled as she squirmed slowly in front of him.
“Oh good god!”
“They’re at my knees, I’ll take them off after I’ve had a little more wine.”
He shook his head at her audacity and courage, then laughed out loud at her beautiful face and what appeared to be hardened nipples. She grunted for effect, reached down then reached over the table to him.
“There you go, all nice and warm. For you collection!” She dropped them in his lap and smiled victoriously. Harry quickly slipped them into his pocket and took a long swig of wine. He was so hard but enjoying every second, even though his foreskin still felt like it had been put on backwards.
“Daddy?”
He laughed expectantly. “Yes dear?”
“Daddy, put them on.”
“I’m not getting under the table, that would get us chucked out for sure”
“No, go to the toilet, take off your underwear, adjust your thing and put on my knickers. Then pull up your trousers and put your pants where your thing is. I’m going to want to see a huge bulge as you come back.”
“Have you done this before?”
“God no, I wish! This is so cool!” He sat there, shaking his head. “Daddy?”
“OK, ok, stay there.”
The single stall was occupied and he considered changing right there but that was not going to be safe. Luckily the man came out of the stall within a minute and Harry dived in, removed his shoes, hung his trousers on the hook and pulled down his underpants. The cool air felt great around his balls and he took a few seconds to adjust his foreskin before pulling her knickers out of his pocket. They were indeed the little blue pair that they had bought that morning, but no longer warm. He held them to his nose and inhaled the pure scent of her arousal. His cock was at one hundred and ten percent hardness and he stroked it with the palm of his hand, marveling at the pure concentrated feeling of impending lust. The knickers were small and he struggled a little getting his feet into the leg holes, but after some gentle tugging they were in place and his trousers followed quickly afterwards. He stuffed his underwear down the front and frowned at the bulge. It did indeed show through his trousers and while he adjusted it for a little more decency there was little doubt that he was sporting what must be a huge erection. He left the toilets feeling very warm in his groin and sauntered back to the table.
“You sniffed them!” she said as he sat down.
“Rubbish!” he said, reaching for his wine.
“Daddy! You’re not telling the truth!”
“Ok, ok, maybe I did.”
“That’s better! A hundred percent honesty, right? So, have you tried on your wife’s underwear?”
He hesitated, then decided that twenty-four hours of honesty wasn’t killing him. “Yes.”
“I’d be shocked if you didn’t. What about your daughter’s?”
“Yes,” he said, immediately.
“There’s a good Daddy.”
“So, Holly. What attracts you to men, what makes you notice them apart from a bulge in their trousers?”
Holly nodded, indicating a good route for the little question and answer game. “Appearance, probably how they stand or walk, their confidence level. And if they just gawk at me like I’m from another planet then that’s a big no-no.” She looked around the restaurant and continued “And I hate clingy. The perfect guy would be quite normal, not muscular, not arrogant, had a point of view, maybe travelled a bit.”
“So do guys turn you on when they attack you with a baseball bat?”
She laughed, delighted by the one-liner. “Oh yeah, especially
those who let me freeze to death for two hours out in the woods.”
“You were waiting in the woods?” he asked, “Just standing there in the cold and rain?”
“Yeah, sitting actually, waiting for you to go out. I saw the lights go off so I thought you had gone to a pub or something. I was starving hungry too.” They sipped their drinks, re-living the previous evening in their minds before Holly looked up. “So, did you fancy me when you dragged me into the kitchen?”
“You stank, like you had wallowed in mud and crap for days, you had crap in your hair and over your face. So no, you were not really a turn-on.”
“I thought you were very well behaved,” she said. “You could have taken advantage of me, done things to me under threat of taking me to the Police.”
“No, I couldn’t do that Hol.”
“I know, that was when I felt, like, totally safe. So what would attract you to a girl?”
“Well, a pretty face must be first, as that is what normally even gets a girl noticed. Not beauty, mind you, just a clean, youthful, healthy appearance. That, or energy, a lively attitude, a truly happy smile. Then I would say it’s something like determination, an ability to survive on her own, focused, you know? Prettiness would get me talking to her, but it takes a backseat after a while to other far more important things.”
“So I scored in the determination category?”
“Yeah, and the wounded deer look in your eyes.” He paused, allowing the response to circulate in his own mind, judging it to be true, the attraction had been to protect her, not jump her. “So, you’ve been with girls?”
“Sure” she said after a pause, noting the sharp turn in conversation.
“Girls from school?”
“Yes, one or two.”
“And what do you like about being with a girl?” She sipped her wine, not out of embarrassment but as she thought how best to answer.
Shake That Tree Page 11