The Lying Cunt

"Get off my porch or I'll call the cops."

"Fuck you, your bullshit court order doesn't matter anymore."

Dean had taken the day off work to drive across town and visit the little slice of suburbia the whore had carved out for herself. She answered the door with smiles and cheer, but her mood soured the instant she saw who had come knocking. Amber had done her best to stay attractive as she aged. Cardio, vegetarianism and a tan did most of the work. Bleach blonde hair and fake tits covered the rest. But despite those efforts it was clear she was nearly forty. The little signs had begun to add up in ways she couldn't hide with makeup and hope.

"Unless you're here to pay your child support in person then I suggest you fuck off."

"How stupid are you Amber? They aren't children anymore, I don't have to pay you jack shit. Your gravy train has run out of track."

"No, you still..."

His colorful language masked the true severity of the situation. It took Amber a moment to realize that the monthly payments were done. She was cut off from the only steady source of income she had.

"S-so what? I told you to get off my porch. So leave."

"Don't you dare close this door!" Amber paused partway through the motion. "Where are my daughters?"

"I don't know where Stacy is. She left home a year ago."

Dean grit his teeth. The cunt wasn't even looking after her children, they were just meal tickets in her eyes. "And Heather? Where is she?"

"Upstairs, probably locked in her room and scared you'll hit her. So fu-"

"Let me see my kids!" Dean yelled past his ex-wife and into her home. "Heather! Come here! I just want to talk to you." There was a moment of silence as the two stared eachother down. Then came the sound of footsteps down the stairs.

A teenage girl stopped on the stair landing to look down on the argumentative pair. Boy cut underwear and a thin crop top displayed her toned, athletic body. Her hair, brown and messy from sleep, was cut into a medium bob. Short enough to not get in the way while still long enough to frame her pretty face. Hazel eyes darted between the two while long legs carried the girl slowly down the last few stairs. Though he hadn't seen her in twelve years, Dean knew those eyes.

"Mom, what's going on? Who's thi-" She stopped as she stared at her estranged father. "Dean?"

Never before had his name hurt so much, but he hadn't been in the last two thirds of her life.

"There, you've seen you kid, now leave." Amber glared at her ex husband but made no effort to close the door on him.

"Mom, just- just no. He obviously wants to talk to me." She slipped past her mother to stand with Dean on the porch. "So talk."

He looked down on his little girl. Up close he could see she was just over five feet tall. He could also see her modest chest, fun sized B cups pressing their rigid nubs against the thin fabric of her top. Why she didn't dress before leaving her room, he couldn't yet have guessed.

Focus Dean, she's your daughter. You've waited years for this

It occured to him that he found her attractive. She was young, healthy and hot. He didn't have the years of raising her that would have programmed him to not see her in that way. Instead he subconsciously found himself subtly checking her out.

"Hey Heather. I just wanted to see you, I've tried so many times-"

"Have you?" The look of disgust on her face nearly broke the mans heart. Behind her he could see a look of smug satisfaction grow on Amber's face. "Or have you just been sitting in jail from your own selfish stupidity?"

What the fuck has this cunt been telling my daughters?

"Heather, wait, I just want you to know the truth about the divorce..."

The disgusted look faded to confusion. The confusion to heart break. Tears welled in Heather's eyes as she truly saw her father for the first time in over a decade.

"D-daddy?"