Daddy’s Nervous Little by Jess Winters
CHAPTER 2
Lawrence
When Wendy answers the door I am utterly overwhelmed by her. She has a pixie-like body with perky breasts, a petite figure, and a round, firm, supple-cheeked ass just begging to be spanked – even underneath her baggy pajama pants. Her shoulder length dirty blonde hair is disheveled and matted with sweat and her crystal blue eyes stare guiltily up at me over pouty lips that look innocent and mischievous at the same time. She is a mess, and she is beautiful.
Beautiful doesn’t even begin to describe her. Calling Wendy beautiful is like calling a cheetah sort of quick. She is easily the most attractive woman I’ve ever seen in my life and something about catching her in this unkempt state enhances the appeal because I can fantasize about spanking her for not being ready when she agreed. The thought of her bent over my leg with her naked ass turned up toward me makes me want to forget about the date and give her something besides her fingers to put inside her.
I am so distracted I forget to say anything until Wendy blushes and says meekly, “Hi, Lawrence.”
Her voice carries strong traces of lust and I have to fight a powerful urge to tear her clothes off right there. I control myself and manage to say in a stern voice, “You agreed to be ready by 10 a.m., Wendy. It’s not polite to make people wait.”
She blushes crimson and hangs her head meekly, but there is still a strong current of lust in her tone as she replies, “I’m sorry Da—Lawrence.”
“That’s okay, Wendy,” I say. “I’ll let it go this once. But next time you say you’ll be ready at a certain time, I expect you to be ready.”
“Okay, Lawrence,” she says, and I am encouraged by the fact she accepted the implication that there would be a next time. God, we haven’t even started our first date and I’m already planning the second. I have it bad for her.
“Well, are you going to invite me in?” I ask.
She looks up at me, a suddenly hopeful expression on her face. “Please come in, Lawrence.”
“Thank you,” I say.
I walk inside to find her apartment as disheveled as she is. That’s something we’ll have to fix.
Slow down Lawrence. Get through the date first, then maybe a couple more dates. Then we can think about a relationship.
“Sorry about the mess, Da—Lawrence.” Once again, she almost called me Daddy. “I’ll clean up later.”
I smile at her. “Why don’t you get yourself cleaned and ready and we can talk about your apartment after the date.”
She smiles brightly. “Okay.” She bounces toward the hallway, stopping when she reaches it. She turns to me, face bright red. “I’m sorry,” she says meekly. “Do you want to sit?” She gestures toward the couch.
“Thank you, Wendy,” I say. I take a seat and smile at her. “Now go get ready or I’ll have to come in there and wash you myself.”
Her lips part in a small gasp and I am gratified to know the thought of me in the shower with her attracts her so much. She stares a second before catching herself, blushing bright as a tomato before hurrying off to shower.
When I hear the bathroom door close, I let out a low whistle. I can’t recall being this attracted to anyone since Dahlia. Hell, even Dahlia didn’t turn me on the way Wendy does.
It’s not just her body that turns me on, though her body is nothing short of perfection and makes every other woman I’ve seen look plain by comparison. Her nervousness and insecurity attract me as well – not because I want her to feel that way, but because I know I can help her overcome those obstacles and be the strong, confident woman she deserves to be.
I tried desperately to help Dahlia feel that way, but she never allowed me to help her. She seemed to only want the sexual side of a DDlg relationship, but when the time came to work on bettering herself she pulled away. Eventually she pulled completely away and left me with nothing but a note that said, I’m sorry. Don’t call me.
At first I wondered often if I should have gone after her. For a long time I refused to date anyone else because I felt like a failure for letting my little girl go. Recently, I’ve accepted that letting Dahlia go was the right thing to do. She and I were not meant to be together forever. Trying to force her to make a change she adamantly refused wouldn’t help her or me. We had given it a shot and it hadn’t worked out. So when I met Wendy at Drake and Tina’s the past weekend, I felt no hesitation asking her to have dinner with me tonight.
I originally wanted only a casual date with no pressure to think about a relationship, but over the past week I found myself thinking about Wendy almost to the point of obsession. I realized I liked her more than I thought, much more. My fantasies suddenly turned to thoughts of helping her overcome her insecurities to be the smart, confident, fulfilled woman she should be.
Now that I see her again my fantasies have once more changed. I still want to help her grow as an individual and I still can’t wait to experience that perfect, supple little body of hers; but now I also want a life together with her, complete with a home, kids, a minivan, and a dog. I am mature enough to understand these thoughts are incredibly premature, but that doesn’t prevent me from imagining it as I wait for her to finish getting ready.
A minute later Wendy comes out clean and dry, her hair done in cute little pigtails. She wears a pink t-shirt with a picture of a cartoon teddy bear with a heart on its chest, tight jean shorts, and white sneakers with pink shoelaces. I don’t know if she was trying to impress me or if it was just a happy accident, but I am once more almost overwhelmingly turned on.
I might just have to marry this girl.
