Act Your Age

by Eve Dangerfield

  “Daddy,” Middleton pressed. “Why?”

  “Because those sad cunts were paying you,” Ty said. “You like power, sweetheart, and there’s nothing powerful about paying girls who can barely make rent for their underwear. It’s sad. It’s lonely. I bet you had to make a game for yourself just to go through with it.”

  “Yes,” she whispered, looking mortified.

  Ty tugged her nipple through her camisole and felt her cunt flutter around him. “You’ve gotten good at playing those kinds of games with yourself, haven’t you, Katie?”

  She nodded. She was close, Ty could feel it, she was on edge from the spanking and the dirtiness of her confession, but she’d never make it without him rubbing her clit or angling his hips so that his balls ground up against her. She was trapped between need and satisfaction, and he planned on keeping her that way. He grasped her plait, winding it around his fist in a move that was now as familiar as donning motorcycle gloves before a ride. “Tonight you’re gonna fuck yourself in front of me. You’re gonna make yourself gush into your panties while I watch and when you’re done, I’m gonna shove them in your mouth and make you taste them while I fuck your ass.”

  She moaned, her pussy tightening around him.

  “Yeah, you like the idea of that, don’t you? Giving Daddy your cherry. Well, it wouldn’t matter if you didn’t, I’d still make you give it to me. I’ll make you give me everything you gave any of those perverts for free and have you thank me afterward. You know why?”

  “Because…because you’re my Daddy.”

  “That’s right, sweetheart. I’m what you want and you’ll do anything to make me happy. Give me your used panties, suck my cock while I watch porn, let me fuck you in the ass even though you’re scared it’ll hurt.”

  She made a noise that was neither affirmation nor dissent, and he fucked her harder, thrusting so fast that their bodies clapped together. “I could make you pay me for what I do to you, Middleton, couldn’t I? Bill you by the hour for the privilege of giving you my dick?”

  “Yes,” she breathed. “Yes.”

  Ty pulled her upward, plastering her warm body along his so he could watch her tits jiggle as he rammed himself home. Dimly, he realised when this was over he was going to smell like whatever strawberry scented lotion she used, but it was far too late to worry about that.

  Kate’s hand moved between her legs, and she began stroking her clit. Ty let her carry on for a few seconds then pulled her hands away.

  She let out a moan of frustration. “Daddy, please?”

  “No.” Ty bundled her wrists in front of her and pinned them with one of his hands. “When I’m done with you, you’re gonna go back to your desk, sit on your freshly slapped ass and think about how horny you are and how you’re going to stay that way until I come by and fuck you again tonight.”

  He resumed pumping himself inside her and she let out a loud, piercing cry, more frustration than pleasure. Ty could feel her clenching around him, knew she was straining to get off, but it was too late. He thought about her squirming in her seat, her ass raw, her pussy needier than ever and came so deep and hard it was like diving into a bottomless, blood-warm river.

  “No,” Kate sobbed, humping back against him, trying to get more out of his already deflating cock.

  “Sorry, baby, we’re done here.” Ty pulled out of her, folded a piece of paper around the condom and threw it into a nearby bin. He turned to find Middleton still slumped over the table, shaking from head to foot. He immediately registered wrongness and not the good ‘I just had my mind blown’ kind. Instinctively, he reached down and pulled her into his arms. She resisted for a second and then burrowed her face into his chest as though she was trying to disappear through his skin.

  “I don’t…know why…I’m crying,” she sobbed into his torso. “What we just did was great. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

  Ty smoothed a hand through her hair. “Hey, it doesn’t matter. Everything’s okay sweetheart, I’m here, everything’s okay.”

  “I know,” she said but she cried and cried and cried. They were both late now, their lunch hour pushing into the ninety-minute range, but Ty wouldn’t have left her there for the world. He felt like he was expanding around her, his body growing larger and stronger so that he could protect her. It was that feeling, like he wanted to wrap her in a blanket and put her on a high shelf to the power of about a million. After several long minutes, she stepped back, mascara ringing her large brown eyes. “Are you, erm, are you still coming over tonight?”

  “Of course.”

  She smiled then, and Ty felt something inside him tear loose, separating him into the man he’d been with her before and the man he’d have to be now. He cupped Middleton’s cheek. “Here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to go back up to your desk, pack up your stuff, and say you’ve been sent to the Congreve site. Then you’re going to go home, take a shower and get into bed. Wait for me, like we talked about.”

  “But I already took lunch and—”

  “You’ve got about a million hours in lieu. Everyone cuts and runs sometimes, Middleton, today’s your day.”

  “Okay,” she whispered. “If you say so.”

  “I do, get out of here I’ll make sure everyone knows where you are.”

  He watched as she pulled up her tights and donned her skirt and jumper. Her complexion, though pale, seemed to be adept at clearing up after crying. Aside from a slight puffiness around the eyelids, it was virtually undetectable. She looked fresh and lovely again, this girl who had so many secrets nestled inside her. His chest gave another throbbing pang. “Katie?”

  She looked up at him, smiling brightly, probably thinking he was going to say something about sex. He opened his mouth to tell her she was beautiful and couldn’t. “Keep your hands off yourself. That’s my pussy, and I’ll play with it when I get home.”

  She smiled at him, her expression both mischievous and excited. He’d done that to her just by holding her in his arms. When she left, Ty sat down at the desk where he’d spanked her and clutched his head. He was in trouble all right. Big, big trouble.

  Chapter 14

  Kate didn’t do exactly what Ty asked. Before she went home, she stopped in at Peter Alexander and bought a negligee. It wasn’t a sexy negligee, at least not in the conventional silk and lace sense. It was made of pink cotton and patterned with cherries, symbolism that was almost too on the nose—yet as soon as she saw it, she knew it was the one she wanted to wear tonight. She felt like a pervert placing it on the counter, as though the sales assistant might know exactly what she was blushing about.

  “We have a storewide sale on tomorrow,” she told Kate as she shook out the bed-dress. “Do you want me to put this aside so you can buy it then?”

  “No, I’m happy to pay full price.”

  The sales assistant gave her a funny look, but Kate just smiled. She wanted the negligee tonight, and she didn’t mind paying what Peter Alexander (or someone) had deemed it worthy of. After growing up on a steady diet of thrift store jumpers, shop clothes still had a novelty for Kate. As a kid, the only new dress she’d ever gotten had been for her First Communion and that was because the white gown that had been Jacinta, Molly, Grace, Hannah and Claudia’s before hers was so battered it had torn like tissue paper the moment she tried to pull it over her head.

  She thought about her First Communion as she showered and got ready for Ty. How she’d stood in the sunlight by the towering bluestone church, not understanding why she was there, but feeling pretty and new in her silk dress, her white veil held in place by the diamante tiara Jacinta wore at her wedding.

  “Mum,” she’d asked Brenda McGrath. “Am I getting married?”

  Her mother had flicked her cigarette ash into the grass. “Yes. You’re getting married to God.”

  Ah yes, getting married to God, the all-knowing father who punished and comforted and loved you better than anyone. The concept of g
od already intrigued Kate for reasons never encouraged by the Catholic Church but that comment had given her some weird day dreams. Maybe she was barking up the wrong tree with Mr Peterson being the root of her kink. Maybe her daddy/daughter obsession was born that day by St Michaels’ when she was told she was getting married to the divine Father, and that was a perfectly respectable thing to do.

  At the very least, it couldn’t have helped.

  Kate took extra care washing, shaving the hair in her underarms and on her legs and slathering her skin in strawberry lotion. She slid into her new negligee and white cotton panties and applied BB cream and clear mascara, hoping to avoid makeup stains on her pillows. Though it was only five thirty in the afternoon she climbed into bed the way Ty had asked.

  Sooo… a snarky voice piped up. What now? Lying motionless for hours on end until Ty shows up and performs the sacred rite of ‘railing you?’

  Kate knew that voice. It was the one that encouraged her to sell her panties and spit in Dutchy’s coffee, to buy sexy new clothes and write one sentence replies to Maria’s increasingly demanding texts. It was speaking to her more and more lately, pointing out that the guys at work gave her the worst jobs on purpose and Aunty Rhonda’s apartment looked like a mausoleum to the late nineties and how if Ty was any kind of gentlemen, he owed her oral sex.

  Kate didn’t know what was causing this upswing in angst, but she didn’t like it. She felt like a previously calm lake upon which some dillhole on a jet-ski kept riding back and forth, chopping up the water. If she weren’t so clear-headed, she’d have been worried something about her ADHD had changed. But the only thing that had significantly changed about her life was Ty, or more specifically, her relationship with Ty.

  “He held me today,” she said to her ceiling. “I was crying, and he held me.”

  It had blown her mind a little, how completely at ease he’d seemed with her tears and her need for comfort. He’d kept her close to his chest until she was calm and when he wiped away her tears, it had felt better than any orgasm he’d given her by far.

  Please tell Ty that, the snarky voice advised. He’ll love it.

  But who knew what Ty loved? Kate didn’t want to be That Girl but the way he’d grabbed her and kissed her today, it felt like things were getting more serious between them. Of course anytime she had those kinds of thoughts her pride told her she was delusional.

  The other day, she’d had too much caffeine and asked Stormy about Ty’s ex-fiancée. After rhapsodising about her beauty for almost five minutes, he’d given Kate a name. A quick Google search later and she was looking at the exceptionally beautiful woman who once owned Ty’s heart. She was relieved to discover Veronica Boyle was married and had a baby son, but some internal need for punishment had driven her deep into her Facebook timeline looking for pictures of her and Ty. She found the lion’ s share—albums and albums of images documenting their time together.

  They looked like the ultimate Aryan power couple—tall, blond and insanely chiseled. Their expressions were always warm but a little aloof, as though they shared hot blond person secrets they couldn’t reveal to anyone, even a camera. They clearly had a very exciting relationship. There were snaps of them riding elephants in Africa, sitting by the pool with cocktails in Samoa, drinking Burgundy in ultra-cool Parisian wine bars. There were even pictures—horrible, horrible pictures—of their engagement. Veronica’s parents had hosted a huge party at the Marriott Hotel with balloons and doves and the bride-to-be waving a fat diamond in the camera as Ty kissed her on the cheek.

  “Why the heck would you leave these pictures up?” Kate asked Veronica’s lovely, immobile face, as though it was her fault she had gone snooping and now wanted to spew.

  Ty’s Facebook profile was little more than a shell and yet here he was, tagged in all these pictures of a love that hadn’t worked out. Stormy told her, amidst furtive glances around the office, that the engagement had ended because Veronica cheated on Ty, but Kate couldn’t believe that. Anyone who cheated on Ty would surely have horns.

  She wasn’t sure what those old photos meant, only that it seemed very unlikely Tyler Henderson wanted to downgrade from a PR beauty queen to a girl who cried all over his shirts and had, like, two friends. Sex was what they had in common and sex was a world away from elephant rides and diamond rings.

  Time ticked by slowly as Kate lay in her bed. She could have read a book or watched YouTube, but it felt wrong to do so, as though she was defying orders. With nothing to do but feel the fresh bruises pricking on her ass, she started getting turned on. She kept absentmindedly pressing her hand against her underwear, pulling it away and chiding herself. The gaps between these incidents became smaller and smaller until, finally, when the sky was dark outside, she decided the right thing to do was to make herself come. It would take the edge off, and then she’d be more focused when Ty finally showed up. With the guilty relief of a dieter who finally caved to a packet of biscuits, Kate shoved her hands into her panties and began to rub. She had barely gotten things started when her front door slammed shut.

  That man has impeccable fucking timing, the snarky voice said. This neo-version of herself didn’t seem to have her fear of getting her mouth washed out with Pears soap.

  Gently, Kate eased her hands out of her underwear and closed her eyes. Her pulse was high, her pussy throbbing.

  She listened as Ty moved around her kitchen, the clink of glass indicating he’d poured himself a drink. She wondered if he might go into her living room to turn on the TV and string out her anticipation. It seemed like something he would do to torture her. But then, to her relief, his footsteps came pounding up the hall. They were different to the way they usually sounded, but why, she couldn’t tell.

  Her bedroom door creaked open. “Katie?” He slurred the word as though it were spelled ‘Kaydeeeh.’ “Are you awake, sweetheart?”

  She said nothing, trying to keep her body still and her breathing steady. Ty strode into her room, bringing with him the familiar smell of cologne combined with cigarette smoke and alcohol. Had he been at a bar while she lay there, hungry and impatient? Surely not, surely this was Ty’s way of ramping up the drama, adding extra touches of reality to the scene.

  The evil stepfather has gone out, gotten drunk, and now he’s come home looking for me.

  She bit her lip in anticipation of what was to come. She was going to be taken advantage of.

  Yeah, excellent, Neo-Kate said darkly. Because that’s not what happens every single time he puts his cock inside you.

  There were two loud clunks as Ty removed his shoes. Peering out from between her lashes, Kate saw he was still in the same suit he was wearing at the office. How had he gotten to her place? He couldn’t have ridden his bike, had he walked? She decided to show a few signs of life, rolling onto her back and moaning softly.

  “Shh,” Ty whispered. “Shh, baby. Daddy’s just come in for a cuddle. Stay quiet, stay asleep.”

  She heard a swish-whisper of clothes hitting the floor and wondered what he’d taken off. Ty was almost always fully dressed when they had sex. She had still never seen his bare chest.

  The bed creaked as Ty climbed onto it, bringing with him the musty scent of debauchery. It wasn’t pleasant, but it added an air of authenticity to the dirtbag stepfather. Kate could just imagine him at an upscale bar, his golden hair gleaming as he chatted up everything in a skirt, laughing and sucking back bourbon. Ty’s weight settled on top of her, trapping her beneath the covers. He kissed her cheek. “Hey, baby girl.”

  She struggled a little beneath his weight, shifting slightly. “Daddy, no. Please?”

  “Oh, honey.” Ty pushed her hair aside and pressed his face into her neck. “Daddy needs pussy, you know that.”

  A violent spray of goose bumps prickled across Kate’s skin as she acknowledged the wrongness, the rightness, and the feeling of being so vulnerable and innocent. She let herself sink deeper into that headspace. “I’m sleeping
.”

  “Then stay asleep.” He pulled back the blankets and smoothed his hands over her breasts, cupping them gently. “You feel so good, sweetheart.”

  His words were mushing in his mouth and his breath was still hot with liquor. Wherever Ty had gone between work and now, he’d definitely gotten cut. Kate wanted to ask why but then Ty tugged her nipple through her negligee and her brain went utterly blank. “Daddy.”

  “Yeah, that’s me.” Ty buried his face in her neck, his cold hair rubbing against her cheek. “You’re eager tonight. Were you hoping I’d come home and play with you?”

  “No.”

  “I don’t believe you.” Ty nuzzled her neck, his five o’clock shadow scraping over her skin. “Daddy went to a bar tonight ‘n tried to find a woman to help him relax, but there was no one as pretty as you.”

  He moved up and kissed her on the mouth. His lips were firm and wonderful, but Kate couldn’t relax into the kiss. He was still wearing his suit pants and shirt and she could smell cigarettes on his clothes and taste alcohol on his tongue.

  “You love that,” Ty muttered into her hair. “You love being kissed by me.”

  It was an observation Kate felt was more for her than the stepdaughter. “Yes, I like kissing.”

  “No, you love kissing me,” Ty corrected. “Gets you wet between the legs, doesn’t it? Feeling like you’re Daddy’s special little girl?”

  Kate closed her eyes. If Ty turned her secret wish to be cherished into ridicule, it would hurt. It would hurt so much. She kissed him hard, wrapping her hands around his neck, hoping to keep him from saying anything else . It seemed to work at least until Ty pulled back and glared at her from the darkness. “You been waiting for me here like I asked? You did exactly what you were told?”

  “Yes.”

  He grabbed her right hand and inhaled. “Then why can I smell you on your fingers?”