D.I.L.F Dad I'd Like to Fight

Venturing an arm over, I got a feel for the territory. Definitely not Lily. The form was definitely female, and absolutely naked. I put my hand over her side to her chest and down between her thighs. Her womanhood was still wet from the previous night’s activities.

All at once it came flooding back. The night before. Going out for drinks after work, as arranged, Lily safely left with a trustworthy baby-sitter. We had hit it off moderately well. A connection going beyond the drink and our shared loneliness with a lemon-twist of sorrow. The ineffable spark igniting, however briefly between us. At least enough to have a one-night stand and get the itch out of my blood.

It was only a matter of time before Lily came in, leading to something of an awkward conversation. Perhaps not so bad were she younger, or not quite so sharp, but Lily knew what was going on most of the time, and I wasn’t quite ready to have that conversation with her yet.

Carefully as I could, I got out of bed and stiff-legged it to the walk-in closet. Sliding with all simplicity, the door gave way with a soft whoosh, that always put me in mind of a classic Space Opera.

Lined up neatly, alphabetically as according to color, my suits waited to see which would be picked. The weather was getting cooler, at least as cool as southern California ever got, and it seemed something a bit fancier was in order.

I reached in and made my selection, running my hand over the rough-hewn wool, painstakingly crafted into its current form, a thin-lapeled jacket, fastened with thick, wooden buttons, with matching vest and slacks, joined by a crisp white Oxford cloth shirt an accessorized with a cornflower blue silk bowtie. The glinting chain of the lovingly restored pocket-watch stood out bright and shining out against the charcoal gray tweed of the vest.

The reasoning for such a choice was two-fold. Not only did I quite enjoy dressing like a dandy from the 1920s, but it also had strategic value. Throwing the opposition for a loop and reminding the judges of their childhoods.

Lily was already out of her room and pushing up against the baby gate at the top of the stairs, installed the day she started to walk to avoid any unfortunate accidents. Kids were bad enough for causing stress. It was to the point with Lily that my hair was already salt-and-pepper gray at the age of 30.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?”

She turned big blue eyes up at me. “Uh-oh.”

“Darn right, uh-oh.”

I swooped her up into my arms and tickled her until she squealed for mercy. Not wanting to wake our house guest, I put Lily over my shoulder and opened the baby gate with the other.

“Now,” I said, placing Lily down onto her favorite chair, “What is your dining pleasure?”

“Is there any more pesto, daddy?”

“Not for breakfast, poppet.”

“Oh,” her little face was disappointed, but brightened as another idea dawned on her, “Waffles?”

“Now you’re talkin’,” I said, with a wink.

“Yay!”

Through a miracle of modern technology, I was the proud owner of a waffle iron that could do two waffles in about five minutes after the batter was put on. As it happened, I had a container of batter stored in the fridge, for just such a situation.

Lily set upon the pile of sweetness like the world’s cutest little timber wolf, cutlery mostly an after-thought. I was glad I only gave her one or things could have gotten messy.

The gate clicked again, letting me know that trouble could be coming. Slipping away so Lily, hopefully, wouldn’t notice, I went out into the hall to intercept her.

“You were gone.”

“Yeah, sorry, I had to get my daughter breakfast.”

“You have a daughter?” I could hear alarm creeping into her voice

“Yes, but no wife,” I added, seeing where it was going.

The relief was palpable. Even if it was only a one-night-stand, most people, myself included, didn’t exactly want to get involved with the otherwise engaged.

“I had a lot of fun last night,” she said, getting closer.

“Me too,” I agreed, keeping my distance.

“Maybe we could do it again sometime.”

I nodded absently. The night before had been nice and all, but I didn’t exactly foresee this going anywhere. She scribbled her contact details on the back of a business card and tucked it into my front pocket before slipping out the door.

Crisis averted, I went back to the kitchen to finish my waffles and wipe off Lily, before doing the dishes.

Both of our bellies filled with nice, warm carbs, we went out to the car to get on with the day.

The Carrot Seed day care was one of the best in the state. A massive house on an unassuming street in the Hills, most wouldn’t have assumed it was any such business. Yet the results spoke for themselves, Lily barely had her eyes open before I was filling in the application.