by Terry Towers
By
Terry Towers
Chapter 1
Vivian awoke on Friday morning from a refreshing night’s sleep. Her eyes slowly fluttered open and she arched her back stretching. "Mmmm," she moaned as she sat up on the bed.
She immediately noticed something was different. Taking a quick glance at the clock on her nightstand she noticed it read 7am. Her normal time to get up, but something wasn't right. She sniffed the air and realized that she didn't smell breakfast. Blake always had breakfast prepared for them by this time each morning.
Easing herself out of bed, she slipped her pink satin robe around her naked body and opened her bedroom door. "Blake," she called out.
Nothing but silence answered her.
Well that's odd. It's Friday. He should be just about ready to head off to work by now, she mused. Vivian rushed down the stairs of the house, the two of them shared, to the ground floor and made her way to the kitchen. It was also empty. Crossing her arms over her chest, she stood, tapping her foot on the black and white linoleum kitchen floor and considered the possibilities.
Could he have gone to work early? She walked over to the kitchen closet and pulled it open. Nope. All of his welding gear was sitting neatly where it should be.
Oh-my-god! Maybe he was in an accident! She rushed over to the telephone, snatching up the phone book to find the number to the closest hospital and then she heard the sound of tires coming up the gravel driveway leading to the house.
Peering out of the window she was relieved to see it was Blake's black Jeep Wrangler. Vivian watched through the kitchen window as he slid out from behind the wheel of the jeep, jumped out and slammed the door behind him.
Vivian frowned as she noticed he looked tired, very tired. His sandy blonde hair tousled, and his movements sluggish. What the hell happened to him? Despite his worn-out appearance, Vivian couldn't help but think of how sexy he was. His broad shoulders, piercing gaze and confident swagger all added to his appeal.
She knew she shouldn't be thinking that way about him; with him being thirty-six and her twenty he was nearly twice her age! And, he was her father's oldest and dearest friend. Her parents lived several hours south of them, in New York City, but she'd been accepted to Boston University so her parents called in a favour and she took up renting the spare room in his home. Being that he was thirty-six he still knew how to have fun, which was just another thing she loved about him.
Vivian backed away from the kitchen window as he entered the front door.
Blake's deep tan became tinged with crimson when he came through the front door and saw Vivian - or as he preferred to call her Viv - leaning against the kitchen sink, armed crossed, with an inquisitive eyebrow raised in his direction. "Oh, Viv. I didn't expect to see you up this early."
"You never came home last night?" she asked, cocking her head to the side as she watched him, her brown eyes narrowed.
"Well... No. I'm sorry. I had a date," he confessed, not able to look her in the eye as he said it.
Vivian was floored. Blake had a date? He never dated! He went to work, came home and when she was also home, they'd either spend the evening relaxing in front of the television, or go out and do something fun together. As far as she knew this was the first ‘date’ he'd been on in the six months she'd been living with him.
"An all night date?" She couldn't keep herself from asking.
Blake walked over to the fridge next to her, opened it up, and peered in. He quickly gathered up the items necessary for their breakfast. Depositing the food on the kitchen counter, he then shrugged off his brown leather jacket and tossed it to the chair nearest to him.
She watched as he blatantly ignored her question. She wasn't sure how she felt about this new turn of events, although she knew she should be happy that he was dating. He was a good man. He had all the qualities a woman looked for; charming, honest, great sense of humour and he had one of the most amazing bodies she had ever laid eyes on.
The problem was that she wasn't happy for him. Not in the least. Instead, she was feeling jealous and a little hurt, with a splash of anger thrown in there for good measure. She was feeling this way because she wanted him to want her. Secretly, she had hoped that he would eventually stop seeing her as his best friends little girl and start seeing her as the vibrant, sexy woman that she was.
She watched as he focused all of his attention on preparing breakfast. Too much attention. It was obviously a tactic to keep from having the awkward conversation with her about his overnight date. Well, that just wasn't going to fly with her! She wanted to know about this woman who seemed to be interested in taking Blake from her.
Acting like the jealous girlfriend she slid her small frame between his hard, muscular body and the kitchen counter where he was dicing up some veggies. Her 5'2 frame was roughly a foot shorter than his, so she had to tilt her head up to look into his grey eyes. She placed her hand on his, stopping it from its work. Her breath caught in her throat, as a hunger began to burn within her that she hadn't realized was so strong for him, until that moment.
"An overnight date?" she asked again, though she knew the answer. Vivian simply wanted to hear him admit it.
Blake stared down at her, tension in his expression, and in his body. He didn't step back from her. He stood his ground, pinning her between his body and the cold wood of the kitchen counter. The tension began to build between them, so thick that she could almost hear it crackle around them.
Finally he said, "It's been a year, Vivian, what did you expect?"
Vivian opened her mouth to speak then snapped it shut. He thought she was upset because he was sleeping with someone, because of her mother? It didn't occur to him it was because she wanted him. Well, why would it? she thought. She hadn't fully come to the realization herself until she discovered he had been out fucking some strange woman all night.
"I was worried when I woke up this morning and you weren't here," she told him.
Blake nodded and gave her a soft smile, "Fair enough. I am really sorry for that. I'll call next time."
Next time? Well, I guess that scratches off the question of whether or not he's going to be seeing her again. "So, who is she?" Vivian asked as she reluctantly slid out from under his hard body to stand next to him.
Blake promptly went back to work preparing breakfast.
"Just someone I met at work. The new receptionist," he gave a nonchalant shrug, before adding, "No one special really."
Leaning back against the counter, she rested her elbows on the surface behind her. Vivian watched him as he continued to work away. Her brown eyes took in each and every inch of him, from his broad, strong shoulders, down to his thick powerful thighs. Her eyes lingered at his crotch; even without an erection she could see the distinctive bulge under his faded blue jeans.
"Don't you have classes today?" Blake asked, glancing over to her, once he was finished what he was doing. His eyes wandered down to her chest. The position she was in, reclining against the counter, was forcing her satin robe to open partially. His eyes took a moment to take in the sight of her partially uncovered pert young breasts under the material. He abruptly, shifted his gaze to peer out of the window above the kitchen sink. For a second time that morning his face flushed.
"Classes are cancelled for the day," Vivian replied, silently pleased that she was able to shift his attention back to her.
Blake let out a heavy sigh and nodded. "Breakfast is almost ready, I'm going to run upstairs and shower. Gotta be at work in less than an hour." He turned and strode towards the stairwell.
"What do you want for dinner? I can have it prepared for when you get home," Vivian called after him.
Blake paused at the foot of the stairs, but did not turn back. "I am going to be going out after work. So don't worry about dinner, I'll just eat out." he made a half-turn to face her, but he refused to make eye contact, "You should go out, have some fun. It's Friday." Without waiting for her to reply he raced up the stairs leaving her
frowning behind him, arms folded over her partially naked breasts.
Anther date, Vivian supposed. That woman perhaps? That wasn't what she wanted to hear. Her mind began to race, wondering what this mystery woman - this receptionist - looked like.
Blake had left his jacket draped across the back of the nearby chair. His mobile phone would be in the inner pocket. An idea struck her. It wasn't the most admirable of ideas she'd ever come up with in her years, but didn't the age-old saying go, 'all's fair in love and war'? She was positive that applied to this situation.
She stood listening to his movements upstairs and once she could hear the shower being turned on, she moved into action. Rushing over to the chair, she reached into the inner pocket - left hand side - and grabbed his mobile phone. She scanned through the applications until she found the one she was looking for. It was a tracking application, pre-programmed into the mobile models both she and Blake owned. It didn't surprise her that he hadn't deleted or even activated it yet. He didn't even know how to send a text message, or care to learn for that matter.
With a few clicks of a few buttons, Vivian had him set up. The phone asked if she wanted to activate the tracking and allow other users to see his location. She hesitated for a moment. What would he do if he found out it was on?
Nothing, she decided. He'd assume he'd mistakenly activated it sometime since he'd owned the phone. Blake would never think that she would have done it to keep an eye on him.
She clicked the button and his location popped up on the screen, marked with a little yellow tag. Smiling, she placed the phone back into his jacket and ran over to her purse to retrieve hers. Rummaging through the little black leather handbag she pulled out the phone, identical to Blake's, and brought it to eye level. Quickly, she activated her tracker and noticed his phone's position was labelled on her screen for her to see.
Satisfied, she tucked her phone back into her purse.
The smell of cooked bacon and eggs assaulted her nose, making her stomach grumble. No sense letting such a delicious smelling breakfast go to waste, she thought as she tightened the robe around her and began to serve herself.
****
Blake turned the shower temperature to cold and stepped under the chilly stream of water. He shivered, as the chill of the water shocked him. It was exactly what he needed at that moment. His cock was so damned hard he was sure that, if he tried to, he could break wooden boards with it. Hell, maybe even bricks!
He was a bad guardian for Vivian. He knew this. He winced, thinking that he’d been trusted to watch over her, especially when it came to young men with bad intentions. He was supposed to protect her from men - men like him! Yet here he was with a rock hard cock and the deep desire to ram it into her tight little pussy.
"Damn it," he muttered grabbing the bar of soap from the ledge.
When her mother had passed away last year he should have insisted that she moved to New York to live with her biological father. But how could he? She had already lost her mother; it just seemed cruel to make her leave the city she knew as home. Not to mention he had been lonely himself and was happy to have her with him. He had desperately needed her companionship. The problem was, over the past couple of months things seemed to have been changing between them. The dynamics of their relationship seemed to go from friends to something a little more intimate.
He had never touched her in an inappropriate way. But he’d thought about it. And recently there had been instances, like when they were cuddled up on the sofa, watching some television show, where he had to fight the urge to caress her bare flesh, or run his fingers through her long, light brown hair.
His cock, which had finally decided to quieten down, sprang back to attention, harder and more demanding than ever, as his mind replayed the incident with her less than twenty minutes ago.
"Fuck," he muttered.
It was almost as if she wanted him to make a move on her. She stood there, next to him, her soft, delicious little body rubbing up against his with that damned robe halfway open. It was open just enough that when he had looked down he saw one of her small, taut beige nipples. How could she just flaunt herself in front of him like that and not want it?
He growled at himself. Isn't that what convicted rapists claimed? Your honour, I swear the way she acted and dressed, I just knew she wanted it, he mocked himself.
But... what would he have said if one of the other welders had told him about a female friend that had approached him in the same fashion? Well, he supposed first he would say the man was a lying sack of shit for making it up. What man could resist that type of temptation, right? But, all joking aside he would have agreed that, yes, indeed his buddy's female friend was - without a doubt - making a play for him.
So why should his situation be any different? Because she's my daughter, his conscience cried out. His dick, on the other hand, was claiming otherwise. His dick was reminding him she was his stepdaughter. A stepdaughter, that didn't refer to him as dad, but as Blake. A stepdaughter who was of legal age and in her twenties, granted early twenties, but in her twenties nonetheless. Hell, she was smarter and more responsible than he was any day of the week! The only thing that was different in their current relationship from one of a romantic couple was the fact that they weren't fucking.
Frustrated, he tried to steer his thoughts away from Vivian and to the woman he had spent screwing last night. He planned on seeing her again tonight so he'd be able to relieve some of his pent up frustration by pounding it into her ass. Oh, and how that one loved it in the ass.
There were, however, a couple of problems with Beth. Firstly, she was as dumb as a damned post, all tits and hips and not much of anything else. And the second, more important problem with her; was that while he fucked her he thought of Vivian.
Always of Vivian.
With each thrust of his cock into her tight little ass he imagined that instead of it being Beth's plump, soft bottom, it was Vivian's, tight, round one. Beth had asked him why he didn't talk dirty to her when he was fucking her. His response was that he wasn't comfortable with dirty talk, which was a complete load of horseshit. It was because he was scared he'd call out Vivian's name by mistake. Even as he came into Beth, exploding into her ass with the force of a semi-truck, he had to bite down on his tongue for fear of moaning, ‘Vivian.’
The pressure in his cock and balls tightened to the point that if he didn't relieve it soon he would ache for the remainder of the day. He took hold of his cock and began to stroke it, in vigorous, almost violent jerks. Leaning against the wall for support, he continued to pump his cock, while at the same time imagining what it would feel like with Vivian's lush lips wrapped securely around it, sucking him; her head bobbing up and down in his lap as he watched his cock disappear between her lips. He reached the summit quick and his released came hard and fast.
He moaned Vivian's name as he came.
Feeling somewhat better, he quickly finished his shower and proceeded to get ready for work. That wouldn't be the last he'd think of Vivian today, he knew that. He was currently in the middle of a project that was an all day affair. All day, alone welding. All day, to think and fantasize. All day, to obsess over her.
Chapter 2
As Vivian fiddled around the house, cleaning and organizing, she kept a watchful eye on the time. It was never set in stone when Blake would get off work, however, on Friday's it was normally around 4pm.
She hadn't been pleased over the way he had left this morning. He came downstairs after getting showered and dressed, hurried to the closet to grab his gear and took off with barely a word to her other than, "don't wait up," yelled over his shoulder as he practically ran out of the front door.
When 5 pm rolled around she pulled out her mobile phone and checked the tracking to see his location. As suspected, he had left work and was on the move. She was temped to jump into her car and start to follow him, but decided to wait until he was at that woman's house.
She didn't want to interrupt anythin
g. That would be crazy, right? No, she just wanted to see what the woman looked like and observe how they interacted with each other. Watching them together would give her an idea as to how much interference she would have to run in order to split them apart. Then she was going to make sure she got exactly what she'd been wanting out of him, the fucking of a lifetime!
****
After spending most of the evening monitoring Blake's movements on her mobile tracking, his movement finally settled on 38 Eastpark Lane. Vivian's car eased down the road and past the modest house in front of which Blake's jeep was parked. She turned off at the end of the street and parked her silver Ford Focus on the side of the road.
Ensuring the car was locked, she started to make her way to the house, approaching it from around the back. Looking down at her attire, she realized that pink shorts and a white t-shirt probably wasn't the best attire for lurking about in people's back yards at midnight on a Friday night. She determined at that moment that stalking was not something for which she was cut out.
But it had to be done.
Crouching low and making her body as small as possible, she crept along the side of the house to what she assumed was the living room. She couldn't hear any noise coming from the room so she slowly rose up to peer inside. The room was empty.
Crouching back down she made her way to a second lit window on the opposite side of the house. Vivian found some comfort in the fact that the grounds were surrounded by tall, finely trimmed hedges and trees so she doubted any of the neighbours or people driving past could see her.
The window on the other side of the house was less brightly lit. Just a faint flicker of light; most likely a couple of candles. She listened closely, attempting to see if she could hear something, anything. There was the sound of movement, though not overly loud.
