My Bully's Father

And think about it, he did. He didn’t bring it up again, but I could see he was giving it some thought. Especially when he took me to the first high-end boutique, and he saw all that was involved in choosing something as simple as a dress. I made sure he saw the struggle, the indecision, and how it took not just my eyes but his and the sales lady’s to help me make a choice.

I, of course, didn’t mention it again, other than when we bought me a new sundress to change into, and I made the comment of how uncomfortable I’d been in the thing, not just because of the exorbitant price but because it had belonged to his ex-wife.

Well, at least one of my revenge fantasies had been taken care of, somewhat. I didn’t get to fuck him in her marriage bed, but I fucked him in her dress. The highlight of that day was when we were having lunch in some out-of-the-way place overlooking the California coast on the way to his beach house, and his phone rang on the table between us.

I saw Darla-Sue’s name flash across the screen and the look of annoyance that crossed his face before he answered.

“Hello Darla, is everything okay?” Her voice screeched like a scalded owl coming through to me across the table from him.

“Listen, I’ve already told you, I am not responsible for your mother’s well-being. The agreement was for you to take over once you finished college, and now that’s done. So there’s no reason for you to be yelling at me for spending the night out. And furthermore, I do not answer to you.”

Though she was screeching, I couldn't quite make out her words, so I had to piece together their conversation from his end alone. “What does it matter who I’m with? That is none of your business. Don’t cry!” Yes, he does love her; and somehow, I’m glad of that. Not only because the pain will be much worst for her, but I was glad that the man I’d fallen in love with was not a monster like his ex and child.

“Darla-Sue, we will talk when I get back home. Have a nice weekend.” He hung up the phone, and just as expected, mine rang immediately after. I looked at him as if to ask whether or not I should answer it.

“It’s up to you; she’s already guessed that we’re together anyway.”

I answered the phone but moved it away from my ear right away because she started screaming as soon as I said hello. I held it in such a way that he was sure to hear, and boy was it an earful. I couldn’t have planned it better had I written a script.

“You fucking bitch, I knew you were nothing but a filthy slut. Don’t ever come back to my house. You’re not welcomed here. My dad is a married man, you slut. If I ever see you again, I’ll smash your face in, STAY AWAY FROM MY DAD.”

Cue the tears and the trembling lip from me. Gregory took the phone and turned it off before changing seats to sit closer to me. “Come here; I’m sorry about that. I should’ve never let you answer the phone.” I felt the barely restrained anger in him as he held me soothingly.

“Let’s get out of here; it’s only about another hour to the beach house.”

I was sure to keep up the façade of hurt feelings all the way in the convertible that he’d had brought from his private garage instead of the luxury SUV he usually drives around in. But inside, I was a bundle of glee.

I know that witch will be pulling her hair out for the next few days until our return. He held my hand the whole way, raising it to his lips every once in a while. When we pulled into the underground garage to the house on the beach, it was already going dark.

The house was more beach villa, with a private walk to the beach and about two hundred feet away from its closest neighbor. In the dark, I saw the outline of a boat on the pier outback but not much else. “Leave the rest of this stuff; we’ll get to it in the morning. Let’s go have some dinner; I’m starved.”

Dinner, after another interlude in the massive bed in the master suite, was at a nice little seafood restaurant that sat high on a cliff overlooking the ocean. The ambiance was upscale, but I didn’t feel so out of place because not only had he picked out the clothes I’d bought, he’d chosen this evening’s outfit himself, laying it out on the bed after going through the packages we’d brought in with us.

I wonder if he realizes how controlling he’s become. And why the hell do I like it so much. He’d put the kibosh on panties again, so I felt the warmth from the brocade seat even as the AC blasted around us.