CHAPTER TWO
Phillip
I feel almost guilty as I close the door and rush as quietly as I can away from the dressing room. The image of Lyric’s perfect little body writhing as she pleasured herself is absolutely impossible to get out of my mind, not that I have any desire to lose that image. How long did I just stand there watching her? Three or four minutes at least but maybe five.
That makes me an asshole.
I feel almost guilty. Almost. It’s hard to feel guilty because the sight of her was overwhelming, perfect. The moment I’m out of the back of house, I find a seat at the bar and wave for the bartender. Leon already knows what I like, so a second later I have a double bourbon with a splash of soda and no ice.
I sit at the bar and sip the cocktail slowly as I think about what I saw and, more importantly, what I heard. I listen to Rollie singing. No, I pretend to listen to Rollie singing but that’s just because I want to make sure nobody talks to me. I’m too lost in thought at the moment.
Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me, Phillip.
I’ve tried six ways to Sunday to convince myself I misheard her, that Lyric wasn’t masturbating and thinking about me. It’s a damned foolish thing for me to try to convince myself of, though. After all, from the moment I saw this girl, I wanted her. I wanted her desperately.
I’ve been a Daddy for exactly zero days.
Maybe that isn’t an accurate statement. I learned about the lifestyle from Carl and immediately realized it was for me. I understood suddenly why my relationships never satisfy, whey it seems like I never got past shallow relationships that lacked any substance. It wasn’t the various girlfriends’ faults. They weren’t littles and I didn’t know then about being a Daddy.
After a year of knowing I’m a Daddy, I still have no experience as one.
Lyric masturbates thinking of me and imagining herself as my little girl. Perhaps this is the only time but even if that’s true, shouldn’t I do something about it? I can feel my heart beating like a hard rock drum solo. If this girl wants me and wants to be a little…
God, Lyric is beautiful.
She’s exactly what I like, physically, in a girl. Hell, I’ve got enough of a look at her to know that for sure. Her breasts aren’t small exactly, but they’re perfectly proportioned to her small frame. She’s fit and trim. I don’t mind the look of a curvy girl at all but when a girl is small and trim at the same time, it lights a fire in me.
God, this girl is perfect.
As though the world conspires to make me think more of her, I notice her come out of the doorway to the dressing rooms. She’s dressed now but still beautiful. She looks around nervously, and I realize she heard the door close and is trying to figure out who saw her. I sip my cocktail and try to look invisible. A moment later, though, I hear her voice next to me. “Can I have a vodka cranberry, please,” she asks.
I turn and smile at her. I don’t think Leo heard her, so I call, “Leo, vodka cranberry for Lyric.” I add, “please,” as I look back at her.
“Hey, you’re Phillip, right?” she says. We’ve met each other a dozen times and I know she knows exactly who I am but I love that she pretends she doesn’t. “Do you prefer Phil or Phillip?”
God, I’m tempted to ask if she’s trying to figure out the right thing to ask when she fucks herself. Instead, I shock myself in another way. “Whichever you’d like. Hey, there’s a lake about three miles from here. It’s beautiful in the moonlight. Want to get away from the crowd for a while, drive there, and look at the water?”
If I am shocked I asked her to leave with me, I’m absolutely stunned when she blushes and says, “I would love to. That sounds like fun.”
“Great!” I reply, somehow managing to function through the shock, “I’ll drive.”
“Okay, Da—Philip.”
Her blush deepens after her mistake and I resist the urge to tell her she can call me Daddy. More surprisingly, I resist the urge to tell her we can skip the lake and go straight back to her dressing room.
I try to leave some money on the counter for my drink but Leo, the bartender and also a close friend of me and Carl, scoffs and tosses the bill back at me. “Your money’s no good here, Phil, you know that.” He looks at Lyric, then back at me, then back at Lyric. Finally, he looks back at me and a small smile plays across his face. “What are you two kids up to?”
“We’re going to the lake!” Lyric answers brightly, nearly bouncing on her toes with excitement. God, she’s perfect.
“That so,” Leo says, raising an eyebrow. He looks at me and says, “Well, you two be careful out there, okay?”
“Thanks, Mom,” I quip pocketing the money and stepping back to leave. “I promise we’ll wear our seatbelts.”
“Bye, dear!” Leo calls in an exaggerated singsong voice as we walk outside.
Outside, Lyric becomes suddenly shy. When I help her into my car, she sits with her hands folded and looks down at her feet, blushing furiously. To break the ice, I ask her how she got started playing music.
Instantly, she forgets to be shy. Her eyes widen and she gestures excitedly as she tells me how her parents bought her her first guitar when she was six and ever since then she’s wanted to be a musician.