Tempting Daddy by Ava Sinclair
Chapter Eleven
Father
A virgin. Carmen is a virgin.
No. Was. Carmen was a virgin.
The evidence, a faint streaking of blood, is on my cock and although it’s not much, just the sight of it brings me back to my senses.
I’m filled with guilt and shame. She’s an adult. She’s been away at college. I’d assumed she had at least some experience. I assumed wrong.
“Carmen, why didn’t you tell me?”
She slowly pulls herself to sitting, wincing as she does. “If you’d known, would you have stopped?”
“Yes,” I answer honestly.
“Why?”
“Because your virginity… it’s…”
“It’s what?” she presses.
“It’s…” I start to say ‘special’ but stop. If I say that her innocence made her special, I’m just reinforcing the negativity she’s endured her whole life. The loss of virginity doesn’t make a woman any less special, no matter what the traditionalists say.
“Carmen.” I put my hand to her cheek. “If I’d known, I would have gone slower, or at least prepared you better.” I pause. “Did I hurt you?”
“A little,” she says, then casts her eyes downward. “But I liked it.”
Her candor shocks me.
“Does that make me bad?” she asks.
“No.” I sigh. I’m the bad one here. What have I done? “Don’t move, child.” Calling her a child still comes easily, increasing the guilt I feel. Her parents trusted she’d be safe here, safe with Father.
I rise from the bed and go into the bathroom where I fetch a wet washcloth and small towel. I return to where she’s laying and wince a little when I see the pink-tinged sheen on her inner thighs—her wetness mingled with my cum and her blood.
I sit on the side of the bed by her feet. “Can you spread your legs?”
She does, flushing as she displays her pussy, the inner folds glistening. Despite my conflicted feelings, my cock stirs back to life. I ignore the sensation of renewed need as I begin to gently wipe her pussy. I feel her tense. She’s sore.
“Are you mad at me?” she asks.
“No. Of course not. Why would I be mad at you?”
“I could have told you to stop,” she says.
“I could have stopped, Carmen. If there’s any failing here, it’s mine, not yours.”
She looks up at the ceiling and sighs. “So that’s what this is, then, a failing?”
“Carmen, no. I don’t mean it like that. But I’m the one in a position of authority here.” I wipe down the inside of her thighs.
“I’m an adult.” She pulls away and sits up. “I could have told you to stop for your sake. I know that priests aren’t supposed to… but the truth is, I didn’t want you to stop. Even at the moment, I realized how much it was going to hurt, I didn’t want it to stop.”
“Carmen…” I cup the side of her face with my palm. She turns her cheek into it, kissing the heel of my hand and a tremor runs through my body along with a surge of protectiveness. “You’d been away at school so I just assumed there’s been someone.”
“If there had been, I’d have told you,” she says. “I wasn’t being coy in the confessional. There was just nothing like that in my past.”
“I just assumed that you didn’t want to open up about it, Carmen. You wouldn’t have been the first young woman who didn’t admit to premarital sex to her parish priest.” I study her face. “I’m frankly surprised. You’re such a beautiful young woman. There must have been young men who wanted you.”
She shrugs. “I never went beyond casual dates in high school for fear of my father’s judgment. I went to a woman’s college. I had limited exposure to guys. I suppressed feelings I knew were natural because my father said sex outside of marriage was dirty, and only dirty girls did that.”
I feel my jaw clench and have to look away. Carmen’s father is a monster. He’s arrested her development and made her feel shame for healthy desires. But could I not say the same about my chosen life?
“Sex isn’t dirty, Carmen, and neither are you. You’re wonderfully made, and wonderful. But you should sleep.” I stand up and pull the blanket up and tuck it under her chin.
She looks up at me with such a loving expression that my heart wrenches in my chest.
“Do you really mean it?” she asks. “I’m not bad? I’m not dirty?”
“I absolutely mean it,” I say, pulling my pants back on.
“Then don’t leave,” she says as I pick up my shirt. “If I’m a good girl then stay with me tonight. You don’t have to… we don’t have to do what we did again. I just don’t want to be left alone.”
Morris said whenever I heard a little voice talking to me, that was God. The voice I hear now is telling me that no matter how wrong I was to break my vows, it would be a greater wrong to break this young woman’s heart.
I toss the shirt aside and climb under the covers. Carmen turns on her side and I pull her to me, trying not to dwell on how nicely she fits into the curve of my body or how my erection already strains towards the sweet heaven between her thighs.
I kiss the top of her head gently.
“I don’t think I can call you Father,” she says. “It feels wrong. I mean, in the time we have left here before I leave.”
Before I leave. The words fill me with a premature ache.
“You don’t have to call me Father,” I say. “You can call me something else. Call me whatever makes you feel happy and safe and protected.”
“How about Daddy?” she says, and my cock goes from half-mast to fully erect. Daddy. The word was slurred from fatigue and I wonder if she even realized she said it. I wonder if she realizes how hearing it impacts me. Daddy. The safe place and protection she always dreamed of. She has no way of knowing how I long to be that for her. In the circle of my arms, she sighs with a complete innocent contentment that makes me selfishly wish this night didn’t have to end.
