Daddy Dilemma: A DILF Mania Collaboration

by GM Scherbert

  Chapter 1

  Ms. Ford

  Running late wasn’t my thing, I haven’t been late for a single thing in all my life. But today, ugh today, I’m going to be late and it’s not sitting all that well with me right now.

  You know how I know I am gonna be late? The blue and red lights flashing in my rearview mirror hinted at it for me. Fudge, I can’t believe that this is how my first day at work is gonna go after all my hard work. First impressions were something that everyone around me seemed to be fixated on and I for one wished, especially today, that I would be making a better one.

  Reaching over to turn the country station down on the radio, I wait. Thoughts are running rampant through my mind and my hands itching for something to do. My mother’s voice runs through my mind, Idle hands Daniella are a tool of the devil and something my girl doesn’t need.

  Grabbing up my phone I shoot off an email to work letting them know that I would be a tad bit late, thankfully the morning meetings would go for the first 30 minutes and if I knew one thing, it was that they were almost always completely useless. Chucking the obsolete phone towards the front seat in my outdated Jeep, I wait.

  Waiting was something that I haven’t gotten better at since my years in school, no thanks to momma. She had instilled in me at a young age that a lady is always ready, that you should never have anyone waiting on you. You should always be ready for whatever comes your way: ready to work hard, ready to give it your all, all that mess.

  And that’s exactly the opposite of what I was doing at this moment. Waiting is not being ready.

  My mind wanders, to one of momma’s favorite stories. One that I heard repeatedly over the years. The one where I was up and ready for my first day of kindergarten a full week before school started. Backpack packed and repacked, lunch made and remade, pencils sharpened, crayons in order, glue sticks counted and recounted, etc., etc., etc.

  Gosh she loved that story and I heard it every dang year when that first day of school rolled around. Every year up until this year that is. This year was so different. No story from mom, no hug and pat on the butt to get me moving towards school. This was the first year in the last twenty years that I wasn’t listening to her tell me how it was that day. And I was sad as all get up at the thought.

  Glancing in the rearview and seeing no movement behind me, I wait.

  I was always the one that needed to be doing something and this waiting was running chaos in me. Idle hands and all that mess was what my momma always would say to my teachers and as my mind wanders back to the memories. I realize yet again that my momma had known me so well. My mind slips back to my momma and the other things she would say to teachers over the years. If I wasn’t being challenged than they needed to step up their game and give me something harder, her baby girl is going places.

  If by places my mom meant graduating high school almost a full year ahead of most of my classmates, finishing my master’s degree in just shy of five years, with more than a handful of doctoral credits, and single as all get up. Then yup she was right I was going places.

  Right now, however, I am going nowhere, as I’m still waiting for the cop behind me.

  Wait, wait, wait!!!

  I hate waiting.

  Chapter 2

  Officer Miller

  Running the plates, I hope to all hell that this is a simple stop so I can still have time to snatch up Luke from his mom’s house and get him to school on time. I hate being late and this rusted old Jeep that was going over the limit with the honky-tonk shit blaring outta the speakers at fucking seven in the morning, must be in need of a reminder of the laws around here. And the ticket I’ll write should do just that.

  Waiting on the results from the plates I’m running, I take in the old as hell Jeep and the head of hair that is clearly female, or I guess it could be a dude with one of those man bun things. Something my ex would know a fuck lot more than I would seeing the new douchbag of a husband she has sports one. Derk or whatever the fuck his name is.

  What kind of fucking role model is that dude gonna be for my boy? Not that there is anything wrong with that, I mean different strokes for different folks and all that, but it just ain’t me. I mean, he fucking talks about his feelings and shit, after he started getting serious with Heather, my ex, he wanted us all to head to a therapist to talk about how their new relationship would affect not only Luke but me as well.

  What the fuck is that about? UGH, I didn’t need to talk about that shit with him or Heather, we had settled years ago, when we broke up. Heather and I split ways shortly after she gave birth to our boy and it was the best decision we had ever made. There were no hard feelings, no ill will, no harsh words, we just didn’t work when we were together, and it hadn’t taken long for us to realize it. We barely made it living together and we had only found a place to share two months before Luke was born. When he was three months old, my stuff had already been moved to a new place, and we were golden on how we were gonna be separate but equal parents. Maybe both of us being older, her pushing thirty and me thirty-three when we met, a year older when Luke came into the mix helped the way we worked our separation out.

  Something that would’ve been good to know before we brought a kid into the mix, but that’s not how it happened and we’ve dealt with it since. Luke is definitely the best thing that has happened to either of us so putting him first is always easy.

  As the computer jumps to life, I glance over to the screen and run through the specs. No outstanding tickets, no previous situations, nothing on the vehicle that was out of the ordinary. Glancing to the time on the dash, I see that I can get this ticket written and be on my way, still making it to pick up my boy with time to spare.

  Heading up to the vehicle, I have to tap on the window before the head full of errant red strands inside bobs and the greenest eyes I have ever seen slam into me. The woman’s hand reaches towards the door and I gotta jump back to avoid contact as she swings it wide open. What the fuck is this woman doing?

  My hand falls to my side as I release the snap on my side arm, habit that was drilled into me at the academy. Not that I think this young woman will be trouble, but rules and procedures were made to be followed. “Ma’am, you need to close your door and roll down your window, so I can get your license and registration and then we can proceed with this stop.”

  Dragging her eyes up from where my hand had reached for my sidearm the smile that creeps to her face lights up those green eyes of hers. And does something to not only my mind, but my cock as well! Shit that's not good for me pulling her over or too typical even if I wasn’t on the job.

  Her eyes sparkle as she answers, “That’s not going to happen officer, so your gonna have to settle on talkin’ to me like this.”

  Slapping a hand against the window causes the door to swing further out, the laugh that comes is unexpected as she adds, “These windows haven’t work in about five years,” glancing back to my hand still resting on my sidearm, her smile only widens as she adds, “And I’m not sure whatcha think might happen, and I don’t mean to tell you how to do your job or nothing, but you can probably take your hand off that Smith and Wesson. I’ve never met anyone who needed one when talking to me before, not even daddy and I can’t imagine today would be any different.”

  Pulling my hand off my sidearm, I snap the holster back into place before moving a step closer to this infuriating woman. She's gotta be about four or five inches shorter than my six-foot frame; but me moving in on her doesn't send any fear into those green orbs. They only flash with desire and I wonder if she thinks her feminine wiles will be her helping out of this ticket?

  “Ma’am just hand me
your license and registration and we can get on with our day. If you hadn't been breaking the law I wouldn't have pulled you over to begin with, I got places to be too.”

  “Yeah me too officer, but you took your sweet time getting up here. What were you doing back there? Finishing up some coffee while you ran my plates? A BOLO didn't come up on me or on my jeep did it? Cause I surely don't know what else would've taken so long. Which means that I’m already gonna be late and I’m not all too pleased with that.”

  Who the hell is this chick? Why on earth would this woman be trying to get under my skin to begin with. Doesn't she know or care that I’m gonna be the one giving her a ticket? Maybe she has gotten away with this type of shit for her whole life, using those fuck me eyes to get outta shit like this, well that shit don’t fly with me. “License and registration ma’am, and you being late isn’t my fault, if you’d been abiding by the law then I wouldn’t have pulled you over to begin with. And we would both be on with our happy ass day.”

  Standing their watching the steam coming outta her ears was kinda cute, and the disgruntled face she was sporting, gave a call straight to my cock. Those green eyes of hers all swirled up with disdain, and something that I could swear was desire a look I would really love to see more. A look I’m sure I would find in myself right now as well, because this woman right here does something to me. Something that I haven’t felt in many years, especially while on the job.

  Fuck it’d been years since a woman had affected me like this, if at all and of course it had to be now, when I was getting ready to give this one here a ticket. Which was a sure-fire way to get no relief for my dick from this woman. Add running late it seems to get Luke off to his first day of school in the mix and I was just getting more irritated. I hate being late.

  Glancing towards my watch I see that the time is cutting close to when I need to get my cruiser back to the station, and the end of my shift. I’m gonna be late grabbing Luke and getting him to school, I just know it. This redhead is making me break my promise to my son and that shit ain't right.

  I hate being late.

  Chapter 3

  Ms. Ford

  Jesus this man. I musta been waiting in the car for a good ten minutes before he even approached. Watching him in the side mirror as he approached, I wonder why I get to be so lucky with a beginning to my day such as this. Smiling through my thoughts, I want to be pleasant and get this mess sorted out quick cause I gotta get to work, then, he has the nerve to try his good ol’ boy shit with me, like I really was breaking the law.

  When he asks again for my license and registration, I push the door wide open before hopping outta the Jeep watching as his hand automatically reaches for his sidearm yet again. After a few words are exchanged and my anger is under better control, I gotta get a handle on my face, this man has my mind scattered. Turning my back to him my eyes roll at his movements, reaching back inside my truck I whimper as my muscles stretch trying to get to the spot my purse is stashed. Wiggling my fanny as I struggle to free it from the place I have it so cleverly hidden, I could swear I hear a groan from behind me and wonder if there might be something wrong with the officer. Red flushes my face, as I glance over my shoulder catching the officers eyes glued to my behind. Well that is unexpected isn't it?

  He probably pulled me over to try and get my number or something. A lonely man that could only catch a date doing something like that, HA! That’s what I keep saying to myself as he walks away with my license and registration, heading back to his cruiser after no further words are exchanged.

  Thinking back to his tousled hair and the way his eyes were glued to my rear a shiver runs through me. He looks like he wouldn’t have any problem getting a date though. He has six inches on my five-foot eight frame and his chest and arms fit snug into the uniform he’s sporting. My eyes can’t stop themselves from their slow slide down to his butt as he moves away, my cheeks heat as his rump flexes while he walks. The curve of his tight blue pants against, what has to be one of the best bums I have ever seen. I don’t see any lines, I wonder if he doesn’t have any underthings on. Fanning myself I can’t help but wonder, Jesus is it hot in here? I wonder if I could bounce a quarter off that thing? OMG! What am I thinking?

  When he finally sits in his cruiser my mind shifts gears, thankfully because as momma always said, “Girl, your mind wanders much too fast for you to not have something to keep you busy. Your idle hands would do more than the devil’s work if they were given the chance, and you’re gonna be something someday, a momma before your settled shouldn’t be that thing!” So, my thoughts move towards my first day of work until the thoughts of my daddy work their way in, that is.

  I know that I should’ve probably mentioned to the officer who my daddy was, ugh is, but if he had been around back then I would’ve remembered him. Ford, our last name, is common enough that maybe the plaques and stuff around the station won’t register with him. I mean I know that this officer is older than me, but I’m not sure he is quiet that old. Daddy used to take me to the shop with him a lot before him and momma split up. When he ended up moving over to some station a couple towns over to where his new family was those visits all stopped.

  Daddy was the big thing in this town for a long while, before he decided that he needed something else, something more outta his life than what momma and I could give him. It just so happened that something more had a name, Carissia and she was almost half my mommas age. She is a hairstylist a couple town over, six years older than my fourteen years old the first time I met her, while they were moving him outta our house and in together. Momma would never talk to me much about the how’s and why’s, but I knew he must’ve been stepping out on her for a while. Who the heck would move in with someone so quickly without sampling the merchandise? Am I right?

  I mean, he ended up moving in with her after almost fifteen years of marriage with momma. No middle ground, no living the single life, just her helping him move his stuff out of our family home one weekend in September when I was in ninth grade. BALLS! That was a rough year from the get go it seems. Carissia had the nerve to pat me on the head and call me a cutie as she was moving his stuff that day. UGH, the pop colored hair that hung in her eyes along with her pierced nose and tattooed shoulder, just drove home to me, that those things were for home wreckers. Not women who would be more, who could do whatever they wanted in life, no matter how the men they grew up as role models treated their mommas.

  Carissia and him have had a couple kids in the past ten years from what I’ve heard and seen. I have half-siblings out there somewhere, but I give absolutely no cares about that. He didn’t come to see me or momma before she died, and he sure as heck didn’t try to reach out to me over the years even before she got sick. It was either momma trying to make sure that we kept in touch or her, and she didn’t have much pull with me being basically more of a sister than a role-model to me. She was always nice and such, but she almost seemed to be trying too hard, to keep us in touch or make us some sort of big happy family. Freaking fixers, always wanting to make sure that everything was okay and on the up and up. UGH!

  After momma died six months ago, I didn’t have her pushing me to make sure that me and daddy kept in touch and I for one was almost happy about that. Carissia, however decided it was her mission in life to keep us together, to make sure that our family ties would bind. After the first four months of me ignoring almost all her calls they have finally dropped off these last two months. My dad left my momma and me high and dry and I know that if he wanted to be a part of my life, he was more than capable of doing so all by himself. FUDGE, he is the parent in this situation, not me and absolutely not Carissia.

  Shaking my head from the opinions of my dad and that woman of his, I find myself waiting for the police officer again, staring back at him through the rearview mirror. This time my mind drifts to the thought of him using his handcuffs in a way that shouldn’t be allowed. Ideas from the trashy romance novels that I read, that I have used as materia
l for some of my oh so lonely nights. What it would be like to feel my hands grabbing onto that tush as he pounds into me, imagining him moaning out as my nails dig in, leaving marks over that great rump. Lord, I can’t say that I ever thought of myself as a derriere kind of gal, but his has my thoughts running. My momma’s voice comes in loud and clear as my thoughts run rampant, idle hands and all that… UGH I’m in trouble.

  I hate waiting.

  Chapter 4

  Officer Miller

  How had this woman, not had her license and registration ready when I got to the car? I had to stand there as she slide out of the Jeep and she wiggled that delicious ass of hers. Lord help me, if I wouldn’t have been on duty that shit would’ve ended differently. If we would’ve been out at one of the local hot spots, if you could call them that, and she pulled that shit, I wouldn’t have stopped myself from moving in, letting her know just how affected I was from her little show.

  Fuck, is all I can say as I put some pressure on my cock with the heel of my hand. My cock, which is now having trouble fitting against the zipper that confines it and with each thought of this woman, the fight is harder. Fuck My Life.

  Pulling up her record, I see that she has been pulled over twice before and been let off with warnings both times. I know that I should do the same, but after two warning she should’ve learned her lesson. They were both within the past six months and having them so close together makes my decision easy. She obviously hasn’t learned her lesson from the warnings if she is still continuing to drive so erratically. As I glance more into her records, I see mention of her father, and know instantly that her daddy was the man that had first trained me when I joined the force about ten years ago. How many Officer Randy Ford’s can there be in this town, right?

  That was a fucked-up situation to say the least and now my mind thinks that maybe she should be let off with another warning after the way her dad left her and her mom high and dry. I mean sure I heard that he remarried, and they had a couple kids together, but what a fucked-up thing to do to your wife and kid. That’s why I’m always glad at the way Heather and I are able to deal with our situation. Never having to lie and run around behind someone’s back, honesty is a big thing to me. And her daddy sure wasn't that with her momma.