Gender: Male Age: 28 Location: Ohio
|Introduction: A work of fiction written from a first-person perspective.|
I knew Jen had problems when I adopted her almost six years ago. The agency said I saved her from an “unspeakable situation.” Normally a single man would never be allowed to adopt a child, particularly a young girl. However, due to Jen’s unique situation and my own reputation and connections within the community the paperwork was pushed through.
I wanted to be the best for her and I knew she was hurting. I hoped I could help and a sadness tugged at my heart knowing she needed something that I was not, or could not, give her. My mind was a whirl of emotions and I tried to stay focused as I drove to her school to pick her up.
Silence filled the air of the car as I drove Jen home from school. She had been drawing some very horrific and sexually explicit drawings in her notebook and it was, supposedly, disturbing some of the other students as well as causing concerns amongst her teachers.
I had thought that letting her deal with her emotions without trying to control her outlets was the best choice, but this was the third time this month that I had to pick her up early from school due to “inappropriate behavior.”
“You can talk to me, you know,” I finally said, breaking the silence.
“I know because I’m a ‘grown-up’ I can’t really understand your problems, but I’d like to. I’m not going to assume I know what you’re going through, Jen, or that I can help, but I’d like to know and I’d like to help. I know I’m not your father and that since you’re sixteen you probably don’t like me very much, but I still want what’s best for you and I can’t know what that is unless you tell me.”
I had done my part, now it was up to her. I hoped I could help her, but she had to want help first. I pulled up into the driveway, into the garage and turned off the car. I reached for the handle to open the car door to get out but was stopped by a sudden, firm grip on my forearm.
“Dad,” Jen said. I could see fear and doubt in Jen’s eyes and I hoped to god I didn’t ruin my opportunity to help her. “I love you and I need you.”
I was shocked. Though Jen had been in my care for nearly six years she had never referred to me in a way that would indicate she accepted me as her parent. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. My ward had in a moment, become my daughter. I held back my tears. I had to make sure that this conversation was about her, not me. “I love you too, Jen. I’m here for you.”
Her grip tightened and she shook her head. “I love you and I need you.”
I sat in silence, not sure how to respond. The fear in her eyes remained, but the doubt seemed to have been replaced by determination. While looking into her eyes I had not noticed her free hand had pulled up her skirt. With a quick tug on my arm she pressed my hand between her thighs. I froze, completely in shock.
Her voice had lost its sound of emotional pain and was replaced by a sort of ecstasy as Jen said again, almost whispering, “I love you and I need you.”
I was still frozen in shock. This was the young girl I had promised to guard and protect. The girl I loved as a daughter and would never wish to cause harm, the girl who, only moments ago, fully acknowledged me as her father and here she was attempting to use my hand to pleasure herself.
I came out of my daze that I hoped had only lasted seconds and I pulled my hand away. The scent of her arousal clung to my hand and began to waft into the car.
I did not want to respond harshly. I did not need to shut her out and make her never trust me, but I could not let this behavior go unhindered. I took a deep breath and looked at her, she was nearly in tears.
“Let’s go talk inside, okay honey?” I hoped that was the right thing to say as I opened the car door to go into the house.
She quickly got out and followed me closely into the house. She immediately tossed her book bag onto the couch and sat down. I felt the need to wash my hands, but I did not want to waste a single moment before discussing what had just happened.
“Okay,” I said taking a seat next to her on the couch. “You talk, I’ll listen and I’ll try not to interrupt, okay?”
Jen didn’t waste a second she immediately told me the entire story of her life before the agency. I had been told very little by the agency when I was going through the long process of paperwork, interviews and home visits. ‘She is going to need a lot of help’ was the common thread that tied all their explanations of Jen’s history together. Jen now informed me of the entire situation: from her mother forcing Jen to help pleasure her boyfriends. Jen’s willful selling of herself to her classmates; her secret abortion and consequent damaged ovaries; her strong feelings of self loathing and uselessness, how sex made her feel like trash, but it was the only way she knew to try to find a way to fill the void inside her. How she felt she could never trust men because all they ever wanted was to use her.
“But not you,” Jen said.
“I have hated men because they only ever wanted to use me. But you,” she continued “you’re different: you never expected anything from me, you took care of me, made me feel like a person not an object. I have never felt love in any of the things I have done, or have been done to me, but you showed me love. I have had sex countless times, with innumerable people.” Jen said and took my hand. I was wary, but let her hold it. “Even though I have nothing to offer you that I haven’t had taken from me, or given away carelessly. I want to start fresh, with you. You have showed me something I never knew could exist. I know you feel it would be wrong to love me in the way I want to love you. But Dad,” Jen said hold my hand up to her chest, so I could feel her beating heart. “I want to be everything for you, because you are everything to me.”
My mind was a wheeling turmoil of thoughts and emotions, I could only imagine the look on my face as I tried to process all the information I had just received. I was trying as hard as I could to come up with an appropriate response quickly, fearing that too much silence would definitely yield a negative result.
Jen let go of my hand and slowly straddled my lap. She took my face in her hands and, with tears running down her face, kissed me, ever so lightly on the lips.
“I love you Daddy,” she said, “You have shown you love me. Please, please, let me show you I love you.”
I don’t know the exact thought process that led me to action. I only knew that I loved this girl. I had loved her as a daughter, but how she felt about me somehow seemed stronger and more important than anything I had ever felt before. I only knew that I wanted to give Jen everything and for whatever reason, she wanted me in a way I had never imagined.
I may one day regret my decision, but at the moment it didn’t matter all that mattered was the girl I loved needed me.
I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close to me as I returned her tender kiss.
We kissed slowly and lightly. Jen’s tongue occasionally slipped between my lips as she unbuttoned her shirt. Her lips never left mine as she removed her shirt and tossed it to the floor. After a few minutes she pulled her lips away and looked at me; she reached into her book back and grabbed something. She had grabbed a rubber band. Her long dyed black hair that normally hung, hiding her features, was pulled back revealing her face. Her face had been hidden behind her hair for years. I felt a warming in my heart knowing that Jen trusted me enough to expose what she normally chose to hide and it was beautiful. Her bright green eyes seemed to glow and her pale skin showed a small hint of blushing in the cheeks, an image of perfection. As I took in the sight of her gorgeous face and nearly unclothed torso my body reacted as any man’s would.
Jen smiled coyly as she felt my response to her beauty press against her. She smirked slyly, then reached behind herself and unclasped her bra. I could not hide the sadness in my eyes as suspicions I had were confirmed. Countless long scars ran across the length of Jen’s bust, she was a cutter.
Jen saw the sadness in my eyes and reached down to take my hands. She placed my hands on her chest, cupping them around her perfectly shaped, but very scarred, breasts.
“I did this,” Jen said “because I wanted to control the pain I felt.” She got up to a kneeling position and took my left hand and placed it between her legs. “You healed my pain, Daddy” Jen said. “These scars.” She said, running my hand along the stripes of scarred skin that lined her inner thighs. “Will forever remind me of how you made my pain go away.”
She placed my hand back on her breast, then slid her hands up my arms to my shoulders to my face and pulled herself down to me and kissed me. It was the most electrifying, passionate kiss I have ever experienced. As our lips and tongues meshed and parted my hands were becoming increasingly uncomfortable pressed between our bodies. Jen must have sensed my discomfort as she pulled her lips away from mine and leaned back. She un-tucked my shirt and encouraged me to raise my arms. Upon my compliance she pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it aside. She leaned down, rested her head upon my bare chest and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace.
“I love you Daddy,” she said “you are everything to me.”
This action of innocent affection was made brief as she reached down my pants and firmly grabbed my extremely hard penis.
“Oh, my god,’ Jen whispered as she manually examined my endowment.
I could feel myself blushing. After a few minutes of her stroking my erect penis she slid her hand out of my pants, got off me and knelt in front of me on the floor. She expertly began undressing my lower half. The sounds of my metal belt buckle and the unfastening zipper seemed amplified as Jen worked quickly to expose my hidden member. She hooked her fingers around the waist band of my boxers and gave a hard sharp tug. I was now exposed, only my knees and calves remained concealed by my pants and Jen quickly remedied that.
My emotions, morality and sexuality were all in conflict with each other. My nearly painfully erect penis was evidence that my body wanted her. Possible consequences whirred through my mind if anyone were to find out about this, even if we stopped now with my pants on the floor and her kneeling before me: I would be put in prison and become a registered sex offender. My emotions encouraged me to do anything and everything for her, even if it meant drastic consequences I wanted to be her guardian. “Jen,” I said. She looked up at me from her kneeling position on the floor. “I love you unconditionally, you don’t have to do anything to earn my love. There is nothing you can do that will make me love you more……and there is nothing you could do that could make me love you less. You are my daughter and you will always be perfect to me.”
Jen smiled, tears flowing from her eyes, causing her dark mascara to run in trails down her pale cheeks. She stood up and kissed me hard on the lips. “You are my perfect man,” Jen said. Her chuckle was part sweet and innocent and part devious and provocative as she said, “and I’m Daddy’s perfect girl.”
As Jen gazed at my naked body she unbuttoned the side buttons of her skirt then shimmied out of her skirt and panties. She was shaven smooth and only scars adorned her mound, but even so the sight of her young womanhood was undeniably pleasant. Her scent wafted through the air and I saw a glistening of moisture begin to travel down her inner thigh. Jen was obviously aroused.
She again knelt before me and spread my legs as she slid between them, she cupped my scrotum in her right hand and wrapped her thumb and pointer finger around the base of my penis, then, without pause or hesitation, took the full length into her mouth. I felt the head of my penis slide deep into her throat, then quickly be completely exposed, only to be immediately engulfed again. After several oral thrusts Jen pulled her mouth away from my throbbing shaft. A strand of saliva stretched from the head of my penis to her lower lips and I felt large amounts of her spit slowly dripping down the length of my hard shaft. Though pleasurable the purpose of her oral attention was not satisfaction, but lubrication.
Jen didn’t waste a moment; she straddled me, positioned herself and forcefully thrust herself downward onto me.
My mouth opened to moan and was instantly met with her mouth and explorative tongue, the moan echoed down her throat as she kissed me passionately. Her hands stroked and explored my body sporadically as though she could not decide which part of me she wanted to touch the most. Even though her roaming hands seemed uncertain her hips were controlled and purposed.
Despite her past abuse and experience she was incredibly tight. My breath caught in my throat as Jen, as though reading my mind, flexed herself around my hard shaft; apparently youthful loins were important to her as well, because she had obviously taken action to keep them tight.
I felt embarrassed and inadequate as it took very little of Jen’s hot, wet tightness to bring me near climax. I pulled my mouth away from our kiss and mumbled some barely coherent words indicating I was near orgasm.
Jen took my face in her hands and stared into my eyes and began to thrust on me harder and faster. She held my head tight, her forehead pressed against mine, staring into my eyes. She never broke her gaze as she forced my penis into her again and again her, she was breathing heavily and I could feel her furious heartbeat through the palms of her hands as they pressed tightly against the sides of my head. I can only imagine the face I must have made, but Jen recognized it instantly.
“I love you Daddy,” she said and gave one last final thrust, burying me fully inside her as I climaxed.
I was so involved with the intensity of my climax I could not tell if Jen had achieved orgasm as well or if she was merely enjoying experiencing mine. Whichever it was I could not deny the intense pleasure on Jen’s face as I emptied myself into her. Jen collapsed on top of be, breathing heavily, her heart pounding against my chest.
“Thank you, Daddy. I love you.” Jen said as she wrapped her arms around me in a post-coital cuddle.
It was hard to feel like Jen’s guardian and protector as we lay there: my seed spilling out, freely flowing from her loins, my flaccid member having been dislodged from them. As Jen cuddled up against me my mind flooded with thoughts:
Had this really helped her?
Should I have responded differently?
Did I act in love and acceptance or in lust and perversity?
How could this be a selfless sacrifice when my personal benefit was so obvious?
Could I really help conquer her demons by being the only one who fed them?
Was I truly the ‘White Knight’ of her story or was just a new dragon?
I realized that I could not determine if what had just transpired between us was a benefit or detriment to my daughter. I could only hope that I helped, and not hindered, her journey towards a fulfilled life.
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