Daddy's

by Helen Goodman

  "Dad! Made it!" Jasmine greeted him with a huge smile and made her way into the bar. She gave him a hug, long enough for him to smell her perfumed hair. "See, told you I'd get here easy enough. Can I get you a drink?"

  He almost told her she was too young, but the sting of missing her 18th birthday reminded him. "Sure," Tim said. "I'll have another Amstel."

  "Look after my bags, dad." She headed over to the bar, with Tim watching her every move.

  If, he said to himself, if I do get laid in Barcelona, she better half hips at least as half as good as hers. He reflected for a moment. No, that was ok. Objectively Jasmine has a great figure. The sort I'd want on a woman for passionate night in Barcelona. Another woman.

  The flight was only a few hours, but he managed a deep sleep. When he awoke, he realised he was erect again. He tried to adjust his pants to hide the problem. He tried to remember what he was dreaming about, but it was already gone except for the faintest trace of ...

  He looked to his right. Jasmine was by the window seat, also resting. Her head was against his shoulder, her right hand resting on his thigh. He adjusted himself and reached over to her, patting her thigh gently.

  "Hun, we're nearly there."

  She slowly woke, sitting up straight and stretching her hands above her head. Inadvertently pushing her full, high breasts forward as she yawned.

  This other woman would have to be to the complete package.

  ********

  The hotel exceeded the brochure. The room was as luxurious as promised. The balcony looked south over the city and the sea. The bathroom was resplendent. A deep bath with whirlpool outlets, next to it a shower enclosed by clear walls. Hmm that might be a problem, he thought. The bed was on a slightly elevated section, separate from the lounge area.

  "Dad, there's only one bed." Jasmine pointed out.

  Tim hadn't noticed. "Oh, yeah. Well you know Tony at work booked it." He clicked on the TV, looking for the international news channel. "Guess he wasn't thinking. He's not really a family man. Is it going to be a problem?"

  "Well its big enough, it'll be ok. You don't snore do you?"

  "Ha! The cheek. I've heard you after a cocktail or two..."

  But she was ignoring him, running out onto the balcony.

  "Wow, dad, have you seen? There's a hot tub out here!"

  Tim followed her out. There was a hot tub, a small one, with a view of the sea but positioned with a thought to privacy as well. On the other side, hidden by the wall, were three sun loungers. Three? He thought to himself. Maybe Tony had been here with two hookers.

  "So, room service, or head out?"

  Jasmine wanted to go exploring.

  *********

  She had chosen his clothes for the evening, tan linen trousers, a white linen shirt, and made him put his contact lenses in so he could wear the Persol sunglasses she made him buy at the airport.

  He couldn't have chosen a better outfit for her if he tried. A simple black dress and heels. They walked out of the hotel arm in arm, glad for the time together after so long.

  They sauntered down the winding alleys of Barcelona, stopping for the odd drink and tapas before deciding that this was how they wanted to spend the evening. Strolling from tapas bar to tapas bar, a couple of dishes, a drink, and then to the next. They avoided all talk of the last few months, preferring to dwell in the present, soaking in the atmosphere. Tim saw the locals, and the tourists for that matter, looking at the beauty by his side, as well as Jasmine pretending not to notice. On the odd occasion that Tim caught someone's eye, he noticed Jasmine putting her arm around him, marking her territory.

  Twice, people came to offer them roses, mistaking them for a couple. Tim joked that he should be so lucky, but Jasmine, perhaps politely, played up to it. Sitting at a street side cafe, watching the world go by, she excused herself, and Tim's eyes followed her. The dress was not tight, she was too classy for that, but it was fitted enough to show she couldn't be wearing anything more than a thong under that.

  Eventually, the evening drew to a natural close. They made plans for the next day, and headed back to the hotel.

  Jasmine took his laptop onto the balcony, updating the world, no doubt. It had been a good day. He'd have to get Tony a bottle of scotch on the way back.

  Tim ran a bath and sunk into it.

  He allowed himself to reflect. All those guys checking out his daughter, most probably thinking she was with him. Well, she was, but not in that way.

  With her half-Indian looks she could have passed for a sun-kissed local. When he could kick her off his laptop, maybe he would find his own dark haired, sultry Iberian beauty, to know for an evening, while Jasmine was ushered off to a night club. He closed his eyes, relaxing in the bath. A girl with smooth tanned skin, perfect curves and deep dark eyes. Just like Jasmine...

  Dreams of warmth. Closeness. Passion.

  He was awoken by singing. Bad singing. Still lost in a half sleep, he realised it was Jasmine. He grinned as he realised there was one thing he hadn't missed since leaving home.

  The water was starting to cool and he remembered where he was. He opened his eyes to see that his daughter was in the shower.

  The shower was at the foot to the bath, four walls of clear glass. Jasmine had thrown a towel over the top in a bid to secure some privacy. However, it only hung as low as her ribcage, and from where he lay he could see soap suds slide down her back, down, down. Highlighting the slight bony protuberance of her hip bone. Caressing the outline of her firm arse. As she turned he saw the foam mingle with her dark pubic hair.

  His cock was sticking through the water. The camouflage of bubbles long since gone. He wondered how long it had been like that, if she had seen it.

  Tim knew it was becoming a problem. As beautiful as she was could he really imagine making love to this girl he had raised for the last 18 years? Of betraying that bond, abusing that trust? And on deciding to not think about it the first place his mind took him was to it. Jasmine lying on her back, beneath him... her smooth legs open in a warm embrace, her hand on his cheek...'Daddy...'

  Tim startled himself and sat up, water splashing around him. The noise made Jasmine yelp and the towel swiftly came down from the glass partition and wrapped around her. The water was still running, soaking her towel before she could turn it off.

  Tim grabbed his from the floor and covered himself.

  "Sorry hun. Let me get you a dry one." Tim stumbled over the floor, nearly slipping. He took a dry towel and walked backwards with an outreached hand.

  For some reason, Jasmine was laughing. And it felt good to hear. It was just his little girl, whom he had loved all her life, laughing at the little quirks that come with being a family. Tim felt safe again. From himself.

  Tim readied himself for bed, pyjama trousers and a T-shirt, and took his glass of wine to the balcony. This was the second time he had accidentally seen Jasmine naked. Accidentally? The word played in his mind. She must have known he was coming back that day he saw her in the pool. And just now, in the shower. No, that's crazy talk, Tim. It's just you thinking like this, with this problem. She's not teasing you.

  He heard a yawn, and turned to see his daughter heading towards the bed. A black tank top and pink, cotton shorts with "PINK" emblazoned in white on the back. He watched her stroll slowly over to the bed, eyes on her hips. He allowed himself to enjoy the sway they made as she crossed the room, allowed himself to watch her get into bed. Their bed.

  As he walked over, she knelt on the bed, arranging her pillows. He climbed into bed carefully, staying near to the edge on his side. Jasmine slipped under the covers and shuffled towards him.

  "Hold me." She said.

  His arms draped over her form and she took his hand in hers. Her body resting against his. His heart raced as the scent of her hair filled him. His lips so close to her delicate neck.

  "I love you dad. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight gorgeous. Love you." Tim answered, meaning every word of it.
>
  **********

  A gentle rattling noise woke him the next day. How many times had he fallen asleep so easily and so deeply in the last months?

  He lifted his head to find the source of the noise. Jasmine was standing in the lounge area, using the remote to open the curtains.

  He stopped himself from looking at her a moment longer than he needed to by closing his eyes against the glare of the sun.

  "Morning dad."

  "Morning, hun. What time is it?"

  "Ten o'clock lazy bones."

  Ten? That would be nearly 9 hours sleep. When was the last time that happened? Wouldn't be the booze. He had been hitting the whisky pretty hard recently.

  The bed bounced and Jasmine was atop of him. He let out a little groan and leaned back on his elbows.

  "OK, so I know we had plans, but can we get an hour on the beach first?"

  "You mean you want to do anything other than that?"

  Jasmine laughed and grabbed a pillow, holding it over her shoulder, ready to strike. "I remember spas, massages, shopping and expensive restaurants being on the list today!"

  Tim fended of the pillow strike, pulled her sideways and bear-hugged her from behind, flat to the bed. "I see, trying to win friends through violence are we? When did that ever work?"

  Jasmine struggled half-heartedly and Tim...

  And Tim thought back to some years ago. A younger Jasmine, wrestling with her in his den, before it became a second reception room, full of oriental crap his wife liked. He can't remember how it starts. But there she is, beneath him, her legs around his waist trying to throw him off. Him above her... holding her hands above her head, his bodyweight holding her down. Her eyes glazing. She's moving herself against his body. A second lasting an age as they look into each other's eyes, moving ... He lets go and stands up. Walks out in silence.

  Tim let her go. Jasmine still laughing. She doesn't have a delicate laugh, there's something slightly crazy about it, like the sort of person who laughs at slap stick. Jasmine grabbed another pillow and swung again. Tim let it hit him and faked a knock out, falling face down on the bed, immobile.

  "Oh no! I have killed my father!" She said in the manner of a bad actress. "I must now rustle through his pockets and order room service on his credit card..."

  "Can't sign it if I'm dead, stooopid..."

  She laughed for a moment, then a heavy look filled her eyes, weighing on her face.

  "I've missed you, dad."

  He held her as she cried.

  **********

  Room service arrived promptly after ordering. They ate well. Jasmine chose melon and ice cream, and who was Tim to stop her? He chose eggs and cold Spanish meats. It may be a holiday, but he knew his nutrition and liked to stay in shape. The whiskey: well, that was another matter.

  "So, who's using the bathroom first today? You know, so..." Jasmine smiled.

  Tim laughed. "Ladies first, of course."

  "So what were you dreaming about in the bath? Yesterday?"

  He thought he hid his surprise well, maybe just giving a raised eyebrow. "I really can't remember..."

  It was Jasmine's turn to raise her eyebrows. She finished her ice cream and left Tim pondering what that look meant. Must have been disdain...

  They headed to the beach at the foot of the hotel, collecting drinks from the bar.

  It was early season, and quiet on the beach, but there was still some eye candy decorating the place. Though none, perhaps, as vibrant as the woman whose back he was massaging sun tan lotion into.

  "Don't forget under the straps, dad."

  He slipped his thumb under the strap of her bikini. He found himself slowing. As his hand moved along, his fingers slipped round the edges of her ribs.

  Such a beautiful, petite back.

  He cleared his throat. "And on the, erm, bottoms? "

  "Guess so."

  He squirted a sliver of lotion above her bikini line, worked it in with his fingers, allowing them to seep just under the line of the bikini bottoms: strolling along the curves, feeling the dip between her cheeks. When had she ever let him do that before? Touch her so much ... so intimately. Maybe she was just maturing, or maybe ...

  He rubbed the excess lotion into his chest and neck and re-gathered his thoughts.

  Time past quietly and he closed his eyes against the sun. He felt himself falling asleep again. He rolled onto his side, eyes half open, just in time to see Jasmine strolling into the sea.

  To be safe, he rolled onto his front, and closed his eyes.

  *************

  Even being with Jasmine couldn't relieve the boredom of shopping. Three hours later and he was in need of some relaxation.

  The spa was on the 6th floor of the hotel. Recorded wind chimes played through the speakers. Staff, dressed in uniform white down to their footwear, showed them around. Jasmine went for a pedicure as Tim headed for the steam room.

  The heat enveloped him before he had stepped through the door. He noticed he was alone and chose a space on the bench at the back in the corner. He poured a ladle of water onto the coals and let the steam pour through him.

  Within moments the sweat was rising through him, running through his hair, down his face and over his chest. As his perspiration increased, his mind went back to the day before. Jasmine in the shower. The water shimmering over her. The small translucent bubbles over that flawless mocha skin. The heat penetrated him. His mind began to wander. Stepping into that shower. Jasmine looking over her shoulder at him. Smiling with those large, deep brown eyes. Touching her shoulders, letting his hands slide down her back to her waist. Pulling her towards him, feeling her backside against his groin. Kissing her neck, his hands gliding over her stomach... rising upwards and cupping her breasts. His daughter's firm body against his ... happily giving herself to him. Their love moving to the next stage, beyond the normal boundaries. Their love moving to passion. Turning her around... kissing her soft lips. She parts her legs... he raises one of them...

  "Senor?" A cold breeze entered the room, clearing the steam.

  A member of staff stood at the door.

  "What?"

  "Your wife is waiting for you in the massage room."

  Tim thought about correcting him, but decided against it.

  ***********

  Jasmine was already on the table, a towel over her back. Tim had taken his time getting there, waiting for the evidence of his daydream to subside. Jasmine smiled and was talking about how wonderful her pedicure was. Even under the thick towel he could see the outline in her curves. He lay down quickly, trying to escape. He placed his face in the space in the massage board and waited for it to begin. Jasmine was still talking, but he concentrated on clearing his mind. It worked. Strong hands delved deep into his well-muscled back, verging on painful. It was good. Perhaps pain was the only thing that could distract him.

  Then he heard Jasmine release a long, low moan. He looked up without thinking. Her masseuse was a bottle-dyed blonde, probably pretty once. Strong woman, too. He placed his head back down, trying to block the sounds of her moaning. Perhaps there was no escape. The massage became an ordeal. Between the long moans was the occasional short escape of breath, almost as if... as if...

  After an age of torment, the masseuses worked down to the legs. Thankfully this brought an end to the moans, and Jasmine started giggling.

  Normality came back to him with relief.

  As the session came to an end, the lights were dimmed, and the two were told they would be left alone for a moment to recover. Tim knew what this meant. It was a chance to allow any unfortunate side effects to lessen before the man had to turn over and embarrass anyone with a tent pole under his towel.

  Jasmine made small talk. Tim tried to listen.

  He was disgusted at himself. That night, though, he was going to find an escort agency. And tell them exactly who to send. And what she had to do.

  *********

  Dressed, they made their way back to their r
oom. Jasmine ordered room service, to while away the hours before dinner.

  "We should use the hot tub." She said, looking over the balcony. "Be a shame not to."

  "You go ahead, hun. Need to check some stuff on the laptop."

  Jasmine shrugged, grabbed a bag and headed to the bathroom.

  Tim booted up the laptop, waiting to connect to the Wi-Fi. He sat at the desk, positioning himself so that should she walk past she wouldn't be able to see the screen. It was slow, much slower than he was used to, but it worked.

  Numerous agencies. Good sign. Maybe too many. Shit - he should have asked Tony for a recommendation. Most of the girls had abandoned their heritage. Dyed blonde hair, garish make up. Where was the natural beauty he had seen so freely on the streets of Barcelona? Page after page of Barbie dolls. Not a good sign. Finally, one with potential. A stunning brunette, large eyes. Flawless, though possibly photoshopped complexion. He scrolled down to an image of her on all fours ... familiar curves...

  A knock on the door.

  "Jasmine? Jasmine?" No response. He answered the door himself. The waiter pushed the trolley in and asked where he should set it up. Tim indicated the table and searched his pockets for change. None. As the waiter opened the bottle, he went to the wardrobe and padded his jackets and trousers, looking for a few Euros. He returned with a few coins, and was surprised at the big beaming grin the waiter had.

  "Have a wonderful evening senor..."

  Tim nodded, slightly bemused at his demeanour, and shut door on him.