Good Little Girl

“How’d it go?” I asked. “Teachers remember your name?”

“Lecturers,” she said. “Not teachers, I’m not at school.”

“Lecturers then,” I smiled. “How was it?”

She shrugged. “It was ok.”

“And they let you back to class without incident?”

“Sure,” she grinned. “I told them I’d be a good girl from now on.”

My dick twitched. “And how’s your pussy?”

The little beauty grinned at me. “I can feel you’ve been in there… Daddy.”

“Good,” I said. “Sit down, Aimee.” She sat at the dining table with only the slightest hesitation, looking up with puzzled eyes as I presented her with her diary. “You’ll do your study and then you’ll do another assignment.”

“Another assignment?”

“I want you to write for me, an essay. Aimee’s secrets,” I explained. “I want to know what a dirty little girl like you really wants to do. Not the fantasies you’ve written before, I’m not interested in masturbation fuel. Real fantasies, Aimee, for real life.”

I watched her suck in breath, her cheeks flushing rosy as she slid the diary back over to me. “I don’t need to write an essay,” she said. “My diary is the truth. For real. I want to do everything in there.”

I battled the urge to bury myself in her asshole.

“We have a few weeks,” I said. “A clear house until your mother is home. I intend to use the time well.”

“And what then? What happens when she’s back?”

I smiled. “Curiosity killed the pussy, sweetheart.”

I wonder if Kyle likes men. In real life, I mean, not porn. Would he pound my wet little pussy while another man stretches my ass? Or does he just like that shit on screen? Please, God, one day can I find out?

My threesomes have been shit so far. Pathetic little boys who wanted to take it in turns. They’re all so afraid of other men’s dicks, like another cock is a threat to their fragile masculinity. I need an older man, someone who knows how to fuck. Someone who can free the dirty little whore inside of me.

What does he see in my mother? Really? What can he possibly see in her?

* * *

If only Aimee knew what I could see in her mother. If only she knew the reasons why I’d married the woman on a beach. If I told her the real story, she might never want to speak to me again.

I slammed Aimee’s diary shut as Steve from HR approached my desk. Not a-fucking-gain.

“Kyle,” he smiled. “Do you have a minute?”

“What now?” I snapped. “Haven’t you had everything from me ten times over?”

“I need to ask you a few more questions,” he said. “I know you covered it all with the management team, but I need a writeup for the file.”

I sighed in exasperation, on the edge of my temper. “How many more times do we need to go through this crap?”

Steve’s happy expression turned sour. “Until the company is happy you no longer pose a threat to security.”

“I had an addiction to online gambling, not military level hacking. Jesus Christ.”

“You know the regulations, Kyle.”

I held up my hands. “Fine, whatever. Let’s get this shit over with.”

I braced myself for another shitty day in paradise.

Any resolve I had to play the good wholesome guy with Aimee was gone when I stepped in through the door. My day at the office had been a frustrating shit show, and I was fed up with the humiliation. People make mistakes. It’s life. Just how long was I going to have to suffer for mine?

My stepdaughter could read my mood. She presented me with a cup of tea and I gave her a thanks. I was impressed by how well she knew I liked it, considering she’d never made one for me before.

“Good day?” she asked, even though the answer was obvious.

“I’ve had better.”

She sat opposite me at the dining table with a tea of her own.

“Same. College was shit today. People were laughing at me.”

My attention turned from my own bullshit straight onto hers.

“How did you handle them?”

She was so quick to defend herself.

“I was good, I promise. I didn’t bitch back.”

“Good. Let them be dickheads if they want to be. They aren’t worth your time.”

She didn’t look convinced. “It was much easier when I’d give them a middle finger and be a bitchy little cow right back at them.”

“It may seem it, but being quiet and self-assured says a lot more for your confidence than lowering yourself to their level.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely,” I assured her. “They aren’t worth shit compared to you.”

She laughed. “How do you know that? You’ve never even seen them.”

My shrug was casual. “I don’t need to, sweetheart. I know you.”

She put her mug of tea down, staring over like I’d just told her the moon was made of cheese.

“What?”

My tone was still casual.

“I know you, Aimee. I know what you’re worth, even if you don’t know it yourself. You’re a great girl who can go on to achieve great things, even if you can’t see it in yourself yet.”