CHAPTER FOUR
Thaddeus
I’m floating in a river, just peacefully drifting with the light current and looking up at a clear blue sky. There are a few fluffy white clouds in the distance, and they add a beautiful bit of contrast. The water is nice and cool but the air is warm, and that’s what really makes everything perfect. The river is beautiful, the air is beautiful, the sky is beautiful and life is beautiful.
I can feel soft hands on my ankles and see them sliding over me from the water. The hands are soft greenish-blue, and the nails are pink. The hands are delicate and perfect and as a head surfaces from the water, I’m astounded by the perfect, playful face. It’s soft green-blue, too, and the eyes are mischievous and lovely, icy blue. The nymph’s breasts are half visible and half obscured by the water.
She swims forward slowly her hands traveling up my shins to my knees and parting my legs as she moves forward. Her hands slide over my thighs and then move inward. One hand closes over my balls and the other travels up my stomach, her little pink nails raking gently over my chest, catching a nipple and sending excitement over me.
By then, her face is right by the hand on my balls and as she kisses her way up, I let out a sigh and a gasp. Seconds ago, I had no idea such creatures exist and now her lips and tongue drive me wild, as do her hands, one gently caressing and the other lightly tormenting my nipple. When she kisses her way to the top, she opens her mouth and plunges down. I gasp again and I hear Candy giggling around my cock.
Candy.
Not a nymph.
Her voice carries me away from the river and I’m aware of my bed and aware of her in it with me. The last vestiges of the dream sky disappear and I open my mouth an let out a moan. “God,” I whisper. “Jesus!” I open my eyes and she giggles again, her eyes locked on mine as her mouth moves up and down.
She’s good.
She’s damned good.
It doesn’t take long before I cry out and she sucks hungrily as I cum, never once removing her mouth and not once taking her eyes from me. She keeps her mouth on me, just suckling softly as I come down from the orgasm and finally she lifts herself up slowly. She kisses the head of my cock lovingly and then smile a little bashfully at me. “Good morning, Daddy,” she whispers.
Daddy.
It sounds wonderful and terrible all at once. I reach down and stroke her hair. “Good morning, you,” I say with a smile. I stroke her hair and wonder how in the hell I keep getting myself into this situation. It has been six weeks since the first time we slept together and though I keep resolving to end things before they start, I wake again with her mouth on me after bringing her to my bed the night before.
I have to end this. I have to end this before it gets too painful, for me and for her. Candy is wonderful and she is clearly committed to the little girl lifestyle but how committed can she be when we’re out in the real world?
Philip hates when I think like that. I can just see him glower at me and bark, “This is the real world, Thaddeus. This is where we live. Where you live. You can’t avoid it anymore than you can jump on a flight to Mars. Stop living in the past and start fighting for your future.”
If this sounds oddly specific it’s because those are exactly the words he said to me when I explained why I still haven’t asked Candy to be my little girl. Looking at her smiling up at me with her beautiful green eyes and soft, full lips, there’s nothing I want more than to ask her.
I can’t though. I can’t risk being hurt again and I can already tell that losing Candy will hurt a hell of a lot more than losing Jocelyn.
I hear Philip’s voice again. “Well, what do you think will happen when it’s been six months and you still haven’t made things official? Do you think Candy would rather hide in this house for the rest of your lives than live in the world as your little girl?”
“I know, I know,” I say.
“You know what, Daddy?”
Candy’s voice snaps me back to the present. I feel a little guilty that I spaced out like that while her head rests inches away from my cock but I quickly recover and say, “I know what we should do today.”
“What should we do, Daddy?”
“We should go get ice cream.”
From the way her eyes light up you might have thought I said we should go buy her a new Porsche. “Like a date?” she says.
I smile and reply. “Get ready to go out, Candy.”
She leaps off the bed and jumps up and down, smiling and giggling. “We’re going on a date! We’re going on a date!”
I laugh and playfully swat at her ass. She dodges with a yelp and gives me a look that clearly indicates she wants me to chase her and give her a proper spank. That’s exactly what I want to do as well but spanking her would feel too much like she was my little girl and I can’t risk that, so I just say, “Go get ready,” again.
She pouts but only for a split second before skipping off to the shower.
I watch her leave, smiling, but it isn’t a happy smile. When she asked me if we were going on a date, I didn’t say no but I didn’t say yes either because I don’t want to think of this as a date. I don’t want to think of her as my little girl.
I don’t need Philip to tell me how stupid this is or how foolish I sound. I get up and get dressed and somehow manage to keep smiling when Candy returns to the room dressed in a miniskirt and a pink t-shirt with a cartoon bird on the front. I somehow manage to keep smiling when I take her to the little old-time ice cream parlor in the mall just outside town and I keep smiling after as we walk through the mall and stop every so often to window shop. I buy her a pair of shoes and a giant stuffed giraffe which she proudly sits on her bed. She rarely sleeps there anymore.
Later that night as she lies atop me, chest heaving with exertion after some of the best sex we’ve had, she says, “Thank you for taking me out, Daddy. I like being your little girl.”
It occurs to me then that we spent an entire day out in public. She called me Daddy and kissed me and hugged me and flirted with me and even slapped my ass a few times. She did all of this in front of God and everybody and not once did she show any shame or anxiety at her behavior.
So it’s not her, it’s me.
“Goodnight, Candy,” I say. Not little girl, Candy.
I lie awake for a long time after she falls asleep.