Stacy's Dad Has Got It Going On

by Giselle Renarde

  Maybe her pussy was warming up now, because she seemed to experience more sensation. It built within her bones. She clamped down on him and he reacted by drawing his mouth away from hers and gnawing on her neck. His mouth tickled her, but she translated the desire to laugh into sexual energy. Her soul sat in her core, kissing Eric’s cock as the monster screamed in and out of it.

  This was it! She couldn’t keep her body in check any longer. Wrapping her legs around Eric’s, she bucked up against his hips, meeting each of his thrusts with one of her own. It occurred to Savannah that her ankle ought to be screaming with pain right now, but maybe the sheer joy of reaching an orgasmic high with a very sensual man kept it at bay. She felt as though she’d reached the peak of her sexual prowess at the tender age of twenty-two, and she couldn’t keep herself from growling words of encouragement at Eric: “Yeah, that’s it. I want your cum to melt that ice you put in there! Cover it with jizz.”

  She wasn’t sure where the words came from, or even whether she liked hearing them tumbling from her mouth, but Eric seemed to find her naughtiness thrilling. He panted and moaned. He pumped so hard in her she bounced on the couch. And then, with only the warning of one uninhibited shriek, he stopped moving. He rested on top of her, though without setting all his weight on her naked front. His breath was hot in her ear, which she loved, but her ankle was beginning to throb, which she didn’t.

  The entire time they’d been going at it, Savannah hadn’t realized their Lucy reruns were still reeling away on the TV. There was popcorn on the coffee table, sweating glasses of pop, chocolate and candies. What a mess. And now, as Eric pulled out, her pussy ejected water and other assorted liquids. Yeah, it was gross, but it was gross in the sexiest way possible. It felt kind of like he’d ejaculated in her and she was paying him back by coming all over him. She was sweaty and wet and her robe was soaked with bodily fluids, but she felt like a million bucks. This had been one of those evenings she’d be able to rehash the next time some competitive group of girls in one of her classes made her feel like a total virgin just because she didn’t drink. She had her share of vices, she’d be able to say. She’d slept with a man who was married—with her roommate’s dad, no less—and he’d filled her snatch with ice.

  Chapter Fourteen

  There were dogs in her dream. Strange—Savannah had never owned a dog, but she felt a familiar sense of affection for the animals as she watched them running around a field of wildflowers and tall grasses. She wasn’t any kind of an expert when it came to species, but she recognized the golden retriever for sure. His shimmering coat stuck in her mind as she shook off the thick layer of sleep. It was a long swim back to consciousness, and when she got within reach of that world of too much reality, a feeling of hazy apprehension gripped her heart. Something had happened. But what? There was something she was supposed to remember about this morning.

  And then she heard the sound of Stacy’s voice in the kitchen, and her eyes burst wide open. The evil face of her alarm clock read 11:36. How could they have slept so late? Eric had to get up! He had to get out of her room, somehow, before Stacy burst in and found them together. God, how could she have let this happen? They must have slept right through her alarm.

  Savannah flipped in bed and reached for Eric’s shoulder, set to shake him into wakefulness, but his shoulder wasn’t there. None of him was there. Her bed was empty but for her naked body. At once, she felt relieved but also deprived of that beautiful moment of waking up and finding her lover’s face either soft with sleep or gazing adoringly at her. She’d have liked to wake up that way. Oh well.

  Throwing off the covers, Savannah slid from the bed. Her robe was in the laundry hamper for obvious reasons, so she dressed in pajama pants and a frilly little tank top before slipping into the bathroom. As she peed and washed and brushed her teeth, she listened in on Stacy’s conversation with her dad. If there was even the slightest chance Stacy realized what they’d done last night, Savannah wanted to know about it before walking into the lion’s den. But the talk outside was inane. They seemed to be planning a day together. Savannah wondered if she’d be invited. She wondered if she wanted to be.

  “Good morning, sleepy head,” Stacy sang as Savannah stumbled toward the coffee pot. “Get home late last night?”

  Savannah’s lungs went icy cold. She needed an answer in line with whatever Eric had already told Stacy, but she had no idea what he’d already told her, so how could she know how to answer? Eep!

  Eric diffused her panic, thank god! “How could she have a late night when she had to get your elderly father home by ten?” He put on an old man’s voice to say, “I had to take my pills, dontcha know!”

  “Oh, how’s your ankle?” Stacy asked. Her face was plastered with genuine concern, and that made Savannah feel all the more guilty about sleeping with her dad. “Did you load up on painkillers before going to bed?”

  “Yeah…” Savannah said slowly. In fact, she’d forgotten all about injuring herself. A grin broke across her lips. She’d told Eric she’d be all right from the start. See? She was right and he was wrong!

  “Maybe that’s why you slept so late,” Stacy went on. “That happens to me sometimes, when I take a lot of ibuprofen. I don’t know why, but I get super, super tired.”

  Savannah probably knew the physio-chemical reason behind such a reaction, but she was still too hazy to ponder academics. As she filled a cup with old coffee, she turned to Stacy and asked, “What’s on the books for today? You guys planning some fun in the sun?”

  Stacy glanced out the window across the way. “Well, it’s raining out, so not exactly.”

  “We were thinking of taking in the new exhibit at the university art gallery,” Eric said. “Stacy was telling me there’s a photo essay by one student who spent her summer doing aid work in India. Sounds like just my cup of tea.”

  “Yeah, for sure.” Savannah was desperate for an immediate dose of caffeine, so she put her cold coffee in the microwave and hoped for the best. “I would love to see what they’ve got going on at the gallery. Would you believe I’ve never been? Not once.”

  “Well, I’m afraid you won’t be seeing it today,” Eric replied, in an unnecessarily paternal tone of voice. “Unless you’re willing to let us steer you around the place in a wheelchair. You took quite a tumble last night and today you need to rest.”

  Savannah couldn’t think what to do except stare at Eric as the microwave dinged behind her. She gazed at him in disbelief for a few moments more before turning to retrieve her cup of coffee. Stacy snacked on grapes as she cut in, “I can’t believe you slid down that hill by the river to rescue some guy’s dog! I didn’t think you even liked animals. You vetoed my idea of getting a ferret.”

  “Well, ferrets are creepy,” she said, racing to assemble in her mind the lie Eric had told: Savannah had rescued a dog. Okay, she could play along with that. “It was no big deal. I just slipped a bit and turned my ankle funny. It’s fine now. I wish you would believe me.”

  “Feeling fine isn’t the same as being fine,” Eric cut in. “You need to stay off your feet.”

  Savannah couldn’t help rolling her eyes. If this is how Eric insisted on acting when Stacy was around—all paternal and father-knows-best—then maybe she’d give the art gallery a pass. “Well, if you’re driving to campus, would you at least drop me off at the library? I promise to find a nice comfy study carrel and stay seated.”

  “You can’t just study here?” Eric asked.

  With a laugh, Stacy turned to her father and said, “Savannah’s very ritual-driven when it comes to studying. It has to be at the library, and she has to have the textbook on the left side of her note paper and her pens and highlighters all lined up in order of size.”

  Eric joined his daughter in laughing, but that didn’t bother Savannah. Her mind was too busy playing tricks on her. As she watched Stacy’s father put his arm around his daughter, strange thoughts shifted through her mind. Who looked better as a couple? Eri
c and Savannah or Eric and Stacy? What a stupid question! Stacy was his daughter, she was no competition for Savannah.

  And then Savannah remembered Chris. How could last night at Kingsley’s have slipped her mind so quickly? Stacy had obviously poached Chris, and that’s what had given Savannah the go-ahead to pursue Eric. It started off as payback, in a sense, hadn’t it? Now all she could think about was how Eric cared more about Stacy than he did about her. But of course he did, for goodness’ sake! Of course he would care more about his own daughter and want to spend time with her, especially now when their little family was on such troubled footing. What kind of a ruthless bitch was she, trying to cut in on them now?

  “Well, if you insist on leaving the house, I guess the library is a quiet enough spot for a young woman in recovery,” Eric said from across the kitchen. “But if you’re leaving with us, hop to it and get dressed.”

  In her state, she wouldn’t be hopping for any reason. Maybe she was lying to herself a bit, and certainly lying to Stacy and Eric. Her ankle was still a little tender when she walked on it, and as she made her way down the hall with her coffee cup in hand, she held the wall for support. A Sunday at the library didn’t demand much better an outfit than track pants and a hoodie, thank god, but when she put on her socks, she was surprised to find her ankle still swollen. Would her shoe fit? And if it didn’t, would Eric ground her? She pulled an old pair of sneakers from the closet, loosened the laces, and slipped her foot inside. This would have to do for today.

  She hobbled out to the kitchen, weighed down by her backpack, and said, “I’m ready.”

  Eric grabbed the bag from her shoulder and looked to Stacy. “Help her along, will you? What she really needs is a pair of crutches.”

  “No I don’t.” Or maybe she did, but she wasn’t going to admit it.

  When Stacy slipped her arm around Savannah’s waist and guided her toward the door Eric held open for them, Savannah felt all kinds of weird. She was pissed at Stacy for stealing Chris, but she didn’t want to bring it up or cause any controversy because Stacy could just as easily throw everything with Eric back in her face…if she knew about it…which she probably didn’t.

  As Eric walked ahead down the staircase, Stacy let out a bit of a giggle and said, “Oh my god, I have so much to tell you!”

  “About last night?” Savannah whispered. “I don’t want to know.”

  “You don’t want to hear about me hooking up with Yu?”

  “With me?” Savannah said, furling her brow. “You’re dreaming, girl.”

  Stacy chuckled. “Yeah right. I mean with Yu, Y-U…you know?”

  “No.” What the hell was this girl talking about?

  “The Asian guy in Circle Six,” Stacy explained. “The one who plays his laptop like an instrument. Him.”

  “Him?” Savannah would never have guessed. “How did you get so chummy with the band, anyway?”

  Stacy guided Savannah down onto the first landing and let her adjust her position. “Well, you’re probably going to kill me for this, but I went down early because I wanted to put in a good word for you with Chris.”

  “What?” Savannah tried not to shout. She didn’t want to attract Eric’s attention, even if he was off in the distance. “Why the hell would you do that?”

  “Well, you know, sometimes you come off a bit….”

  “What, nerdy?” Savannah asked, trying to balance on her one good foot.

  “I was going to say intense, but yeah, like intensely into your homework, basically. I just thought I’d go down to Kingsley’s and let the guy know how cool you really are.”

  Savannah laughed. “Now that’s a lie.”

  “Yeah, but I wanted him to go into it at least thinking you were this awesome chick. I’m just digging myself in deeper, aren’t I?”

  “Yes.” In truth, Savannah knew she was a total science nerd. Her idea of the perfect date with Chris involved quizzing each other for the mid-term. It was her smarts that made her feel sexy, because her knowledge helped her to feel confident. Although, with Eric, she’d just had fun with no pressure to be super-intelligent. Maybe, with him, she’d learned to relax just a little. “So, that’s when you met this Yu guy? When you were talking me up with Chris?”

  Stacy giggled. “Oh my god, you would not believe the stuff we did together!”

  Just like you wouldn’t believe the stuff I did with your father.

  “How’s it going up there, girls?” Eric called out from the bottom of the stairs.

  Rolling her eyes, Stacy said, “I’ll tell you all about it later. Oh, and I’m sorry for dumping my dad on you. You didn’t have to babysit him, you know.”

  Savannah shrugged as she hobbled down the stairs. “It was fine. Really.” She held herself back from saying anything even as controversial as, “We had fun together.” That could be categorized as an understatement anyway.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “How did I know I’d see you here today?”

  Savannah looked up to find Chris hovering over her study carrel. “Maybe because you see me here pretty much every day.”

  Shhh! The assault of shushes came on from every direction, firing on them like machine guns. Shhh! Shhh! Shhh! Chris rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. His wide smile made her heart leap under her ratty old hoodie, but she was past the point of caring what Chris saw her in. She wasn’t particularly mindful of fashion when she dressed for labs or tutorials or Sunday study sessions in the library. He’d seen her in all states of dress, but the keen look in his eye suggested he wouldn’t mind seeing her in a state of undress too.

  “Want to go to the atrium and grab a coffee?” Savannah whispered.

  “I don’t drink coffee,” he whispered back.

  She felt like an idiot, because he’d mentioned that before. “Herbal tea, then?”

  “Yeah, sounds good.”

  Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!

  Stifling a giggle, Savannah assembled her books and slid them neatly into her bag, and then picked up her writing instruments and slipped them into their assigned pouch. It wasn’t that she was fussy—hell, her room at home was kind of a mess—but she liked to keep her school things in order. Organization helped her to feel smart when she came across a difficult question.

  She was so taken by Chris’ shining smile, she forgot to be careful as she rose to her feet. The minute she put pressure on her left ankle, it gave out and she tumbled back down into her chair.

  “Oh my god, are you okay?” Chris cried.

  Shhh! Shhh! Shhh!

  “Yeah, we’re leaving,” he hissed, picking up her backpack and weaving his arm underneath her shoulders. As they hobbled toward the exit, he asked, “What happened?”

  “My ankle,” Savannah said once they’d gone out the library doors. “It’s nothing. I just twisted it. Whatever.”

  Chris set her down on one of the atrium’s circa 1970 comfy vinyl couches and placed both their bags and his own umbrella on the floor. The place was usually swarming with students, but on a Sunday it was brimming with peace. Would have been nice if the sun was out to shine through the skylights high overhead, but the rain tumbling down against the plexiglass had a charm all its own.

  “What do you mean your ankle, whatever? What happened?”

  “It was stupid,” she said. “I slid down the riverbank by Kingsley’s and…whatever…it’s not a big deal.”

  He looked at her through squinted eyes. When he laughed, she felt as though he could see every one of last night’s misdemeanors. Chris had that quality about him: he looked at you, and you were sure he was seeing your many crimes.

  “You wanted a coffee,” he finally said.

  “Oh, yeah.” She reached for her bag.

  “No, it’s okay. I’ve got it.”

  But when she thought about coffee, her stomach shook its head. “Thanks…actually, what are you having?”

  He smiled as he picked change out of his pocket. “The Beanmeister over there makes a mean loose-lea
f jasmine tea. Want me to get you one?”

  “Yeah, sure.” All those green teas reminded her of her mother. They tasted like boiled socks as far as Savannah was concerned, but if Chris liked it she’d give it another chance. When he returned with two porcelain mugs, she was really impressed. “How did you get these? I thought they only stocked those paper take-away cups.”

  Chris shrugged. “You just have to know how to ask, I guess.”

  There was some indescribable quality about Chris that made him eminently likeable. With those dreadlocks and the ripped clothing, he looked like the kind of guy she should be wary of, but once she sat down and talked to him, she realized he was unlike anyone else she’d ever met. He was an ultra-cool environmental neo-hippie musician guy. And he cared. About everything. About everybody he met or encountered or even tripped over on the street. He was so giving of his time and energy. That was such an attractive quality in a man.

  And he was right about the jasmine tea—it tasted pretty damn good!

  “So, I guess you must have been pretty drunk to fall down the riverside,” Chris said, sitting down beside her on the couch as he sipped his tea.

  Savannah laughed. “No, I don’t drink. I was just being stupid.”

  A smile of affinity grew across Chris’ lips. “Hey, no way! I don’t drink either. There are so few of us on campus who don’t. This place is full of tearaways asserting their independence from parents they perceive as overbearing.”

  “Yeah,” Savannah agreed. “That’s what university is, for most of these kids: permission to party non-stop.”

  Chris tossed his dreadlocks back and laughed. “Did you just say, ‘these kids’? Like you’re not one of them?”

  Yes, okay, it sounded high-and-mighty of her, but she often felt like she didn’t belong on campus, except to study. “I know I’m still young, but to tell you the truth, I’ve never really felt like a young person.”