Daddy’s Shy Little Girl by Jess Winters

CHAPTER FOUR

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Donnie

I push my plate away happily. “I’ll have the cheesecake, little girl,” I say, “And you can order whatever you’d like.”

“Do I have to?” she whispers.

She didn’t for most of the meal, which probably means she forced it from her mind. I’m probably a terrible human being because I see a way to get myself out of the situation I’m in. I already want her to be my little girl, and I don’t want to be a Daddy. These opposing forces are causing a terrible battle inside of me. I can’t cut things off.

She can, though.

So I give her an ultimatum I know she won’t be able to live up to.

“Of course you don’t have to, little girl,” I say. “But if you want to have a second date, you’ll need to order dessert.” She looks at me and I see despair in her eyes.

But only for a moment.

“A second date?” She looks up and calls, “Miss?” Our waitress, on her way to the kitchen, turns and comes to the table with a smile. “May I have a cheesecake for my date and may I have the strawberry sundae, please?” She’s trembling and I can see she looks weak and almost sick. Her cheeks color even though she keeps her eyes forward.

“Sure!” the waitress says. She takes my plate and heads away.

I look at Janna. She’s a wreck with deep red cheeks and neck and I realize how much that cost her. “Good girl, Princess,” I say. She smiles and looks down at her plate. “I expect you to clean your plate before the food gets here, though.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she says.

And just like that, I’m stuck.

I can’t help it. She probably doesn’t understand that I know what that cost her. In one dinner I got her to jump right outside of her comfort zone and stretch herself. This is what it means to be a Daddy. After dinner, I take her home and on her porch I give her a goodnight kiss. “Does tomorrow work for you?” I ask.

“Yes, please, Daddy,” she says.

And so we have a date the next night. I order for her but I make sure she interacts with the waitress. One question. She asks how many chicken tenders come with the meal. I stop for gas and have her go inside rather than pay at the pump. She uses my money, of course, but as I stand next to her she makes it through telling the cashier the pump number and the amount.

I kiss her goodnight again and say, “I’m very proud of you.”

She blushes and says, “With your help, maybe I won’t always be shy, Daddy. Would you like to come in?”

God, I want to come in.

I don’t know if I have wanted anything as much as that.

“I’m afraid I still have work to do tonight,” I say. “Can we go out tomorrow?”

“Yes, please, Daddy.”

So there’s a tomorrow.

And a tomorrow after that.

It goes on for weeks, with only a night or two when we’re not together, and she’s growing wonderfully. She still won’t interact with people without being specifically instructed to do so but it’s getting easier for her.

After three months, she enrolls for school. Online classes only but its more than she’s done in years. She tells me this excitedly over dinner one day, a dinner she ordered by herself without having to be told. I couldn’t be more proud of her. I let her know this and she beams. “Thank you, Daddy. I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

“Yes, you could have,” I say. “But I’m glad you let me help.” I like reminding her that she has the strength to stand on her own even though I’m grateful for the chance to be a part of helping her get there.

Before I drop her off at her place that night, I get her to commit to taking one class on campus next semester. Her face is white and her voice trembles at the prospect but she looks me squarely in the eye and says, “Okay, Daddy,” and I have cause once more to tell her how proud I am of her.

When we get to her place, she places a hand on my thigh and cries, “Oh, Daddy! I want to show you something!” She removes her hand from my thigh and jumps out of the car, then runs inside. I wait a moment, so the erection that grew the instant she touched my thigh isn’t so obvious through my pants, then follow her inside.

We haven’t had sex yet.

I suppose that’s not the most shocking news in the world. Three months is a while to be dating without sex but its not unheard of. Its hard to keep from thinking about it, thought. No, it’s impossible to keep from thinking about it. Janna is the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and though sex isn’t the only thing I want or even the thing I want most in the relationship, it’s difficult to be around her without wondering what she would feel like underneath me.

I can’t ask her for sex, though. That needs to be something she offers. If I push for sex than all of the help I’ve given her will mean nothing. She will see everything as me trying to convince her to sleep with me and not only will I lose her, but she might also lose the confidence she’s worked so hard to build and that isn’t something I can allow.

When I walk in, she is in front of her computer, smiling brightly and gesturing at a spreadsheet that shows her business importing toys from Europe and selling them online is thriving. “I have a surplus this month!” she says. “When you have time, can you show me how to set up an investment account so I can buy stocks and stuff for retirement?”

“Of course!” I say. “How about tomorrow night?”

She nods. “Thank you, Daddy!”

“You’re welcome, princess. Tonight, I’m going to show you something else.”

She leans in, excitedly and I catch a whiff of her perfume. I just have to hope the bulge in my pants isn’t noticeable.

I help her create a wishlist for an online retailer so I can send her presents. I show her how to add items and tell her not to worry about how expensive they are since it’s just a wishlist and I can give them to her anytime so it’s not like I have to feel obligated to buy everything right away. Most of the stuff she adds is cheap and practical – sweaters, kitchen supplies, even socks – so I encourage her to add some more fun stuff, which she does after brief hesitation.

When I get home that night, I buy the first item from her list – a pajama shirt with a logo of a cute animated bunny.

The next day, the sweater arrives and she texts me a message. “Oh my gosh! Thank you, Daddy! It’s so cute! I love it!”

I reply, “I’m glad you like it, princess. I can’t wait to see how it looks on you. Don’t forget we have a date tonight. I’ll pick you up in an hour-and-a-half.”

“I won’t forget, Daddy,” she responds.

“I’ll see you soon, little girl.”

An hour-and-a-half later I am standing in her living room. She is most certainly not ready for our date. She’s wearing the pajama bottom, which reaches just low enough to cover her perfect little ass, and little pink booties.

And nothing else.

She smiles coyly at me and says, “I’m ready for you, Daddy.”