Where to next?

Another night on your own

You arrive home sometime around ten, not bothering to announce yourself as you enter, and make your way to the dark kitchen. You flick the lights on and make a sandwich, not having eaten since breakfast that morning. You consider the app some more, thinking about what it meant. On your way home, you came to the conclusion that you should use it to your fullest advantage, whatever that may mean. Work, money, women, whatever. Whatever it took. Looking around at your rundown kitchen, your resolve is only strengthened. Your daughter deserves better, and she will have it. You will do what you need to to make sure it happens. As if you hadn't been doing that for a decade, anyways.

You rinse your plate off in the sink, waiting for the dirty water from rusted pipes to pass first, and place it on the drying rack nearby. You head upstairs, take a quick shower, and slide on some pajama shorts and an old white v-neck. You start to walk to your room to go to sleep, but you hear faint music emanating from Karina's room. You pause, thinking.

Shrugging, you turn back and walk to your daughter's door, planting a faint knock on it. Some rustling sounds. The door opens, and Karina is standing there in her familiar pajamas, her hair in a ponytail.

"Hey, daddy, what's up?" she asks.

"I just got home," you begin, "and heard your music."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'll turn it down -"

"No, Karina, it's not that. I just wanted to see you for a moment before I go to bed."

A faint blush paints her cheeks, before spreading to your own. Ana is right, you are a sappy old man.

"Do you want to come inside?" she asks. "I was just studying, but we can talk for a few minutes. I know we don't get to do that much anymore."

"I'd love that," you answer.

She turns around and walks back to her bed, her beside lamp scattering light over multiple opened textbooks and notebooks. Unwillingly, your eyes are drawn to her butt as she moves, the light of her lamp casting it in shadows, only serving further to draw your interest in. Thin tendrils of blackness dance along her thighs as she walks, spreading up her legs and caressing her curvaceous and toned cheeks with each step. You gulp as you notice her shorts riding up into her ass, leaving too much of her cheeks exposed to your gaze. You are thankful, at least, that the light is so dim, otherwise, you worry you may have a heart attack at everything she would reveal to you in those worn, tight shorts.

She plops down onto the bed and pats the comforter beside her, moving some books and notes out of the way.

"Are you sure I'm not interrupting you? You look busy," you ask.

"It's okay, dad, I was almost done anyway."

You move onto the bed beside her and lean against the wall, your broad shoulders nestled against your daughter's. You take in her room around you - old and worn, like the rest of the house. The yellow paint on the walls long faded, now adorned with posters of her favorite bands and gymnasts. She doesn't even have a desk to work on. You sigh.

"What's wrong?" she asks you.

"Nothing, dear, nothing. I only wish I could provide better for you than this."

"Don't say that, daddy. I know how hard you work for Mom and I - I appreciate everything you do."

She grabs your hand in hers, gently holding it as she leans her head against your shoulder.

"I know I'm not around much, and you don't see it, but I do love you. You're my dad, and I'll love you no matter what. I'm sorry."

Confusion fills you - why is she apologizing? She has nothing to feel guilty for.

"Karina, my dear, why are you sorry? You are doing the best that you can. I am the one that works too much and still can't provide for you. I am so proud of you, and I am so happy that I could be a part of shaping the confident, outgoing woman you have become. You are a wonderful daughter, and I love you very much."

You squeeze her hand in yours, and you feel faint wetness on your shoulder. You turn to her, to see a thin line of tears escaping down her cheek.

"What's wrong, Karina? Why are you crying?"

"I'm sorry, dad, but I needed to hear that. It's hard studying so much, doing gymnastics, and getting ready for school. It means a lot to me to hear you say it."

"Oh, dear - I've always felt that way. You will always be my baby girl, perfect in every way."

You let go of her hand and wrap your arm around her, pulling her into your chest. The smell of lavender fills your nostrils as you pull her towards you, your hand gently rubbing her arm up and down, eliciting a faint sigh from her lips.

"Thanks, daddy."

She stays cuddled against you, filling you with an unparalleled joy. The last time you had been this close to her was...years ago. That joy shifts to deep, overwhelming sadness, though, as you realize what that meant. It had been years since you had held your daughter. Years since you had been able to spend time with her. Years that you could never get back. A thin tear creeps down your own cheek, not unlike the one shed by your daughter only a few minutes ago.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" she asks, as she looked up at you.

"Nothing, dear. Nothing. Only regretting that I did not knock on your door sooner."

"Oh, dad," she sighs and rises against you in a hug. She turns into you, pressing her face into your neck and wrapping her arms around you, as her chest presses into yours, and your hand slides down her arm and lands against her waist. Her firm, cushioned breasts press against you, the softness of her nipples poking you through both of your threadbare shirts, while her lithe waist moves against your palm.

That hunger, the one you know is wrong and has no place here, builds within you like an Australian bush fire, reaching out to consume everything it touches. You know the sudden desire you feel is wrong, but you're unable to combat it. Your hand slides against her waist, brushing across the waistband of her cotton shorts until your fingers dance along the firm crest of her ass. The sensation sends a shock down your spine - a feeling you now realize you had dearly missed, but also somehow snaps you out of your trance. Before something truly irreparable happens, you feign intention, using your hand's position to push her off of you, as though that had been your goal all along, your touch still forming soft indentations in her supple flesh. The hunger abates as she pulls away, but it still lingers there beneath the surface, eager for more.

She settles back onto her rear, against the wall, looking at you, confused. Her cheeks are flushed, barely so, but blushed nonetheless.

"Thank you, dear. I needed that," you said, electing to skip over the inappropriate moment as though it had never happened.

Either way, Karina seems unbothered and settles back into your shoulder.

"I want us to be closer, daddy," she says. "I love you, but sometimes I feel like I barely know you."

"I know what you mean, Karina. I work too much, and I'm away too long. How about a date then, just the two of us, tomorrow night? Father and daughter - we can go to dinner, a movie, whatever you want, and we can get to know each other better. Whatever you want to do."

Her eyes light up and a bubble of excitement fills her face before she looks back down into your chest.

"Can we afford it?"

"I'll make it work, don't worry," you answer, rubbing her arm again.

"Then yes, I'd love to have dinner with you. I was supposed to hang out with Mia, but we can do that later. You don't have to work?"

"I'll get out of it. Don't worry about that."

"What should I wear?"

You pause for a moment, thinking. Why not go big?

"Wear something nice. A dress. I'll take you somewhere reasonably good - maybe even McDonalds."

She slaps your chest and giggles.

"Dad! It's not a date if it is at McDonald's, and I'm definitely not wearing a dress there."

"I'm kidding - kidding. We'll go somewhere cool. Where all the kids like to go. Don't worry."

"What about mom?"

You pause.

"I don't think she'll want to come."

You ease Karina from under your arm and shimmy off of the bed, checking your phone. Nearly midnight. As you look up to tell her goodnight, you notice she is sitting with her legs open, leaning against the wall you had shared earlier, staring at one of her papers. The darkness is no longer hiding what lies within her shorts - in fact, the light of her lamp is casting a spotlight on it. You gulp as you see the shorts stretching thin across her crotch, the seam of her shorts sitting tightly between her lips, her labia bulging against either side in an effort to break free. Fuck - no - no - no - you should not be looking at that. Blood rushes to your cheeks and somewhere else, and you tear yourself away from the rapturous sight before Karina notices your leering gaze. What kind of father are you, to gaze at his daughter's privates just moments after comforting her for being a bad father?

"For now, you should go to sleep. School comes early."

You turn back, your eyes meeting your daughter's, and you see a faint blush on her cheeks as well, although you don't know what from.

"Goodnight, daddy. I love you."

"I love you too, dear. Goodnight."

On your way back to your bedroom, you check your phone.

Karina Malyshev