I hated to see the way that my mother treated Mark. He deserved someone better than her. He deserved someone who
would actually listen to what he had to say instead of nagging him all of the time about such petty bullshit. He deserved. someone who would satisfy his sexual desires that my mother so carelessly brushed off. Most of all, he deserved someone.
who would give him the child that he so desperately wanted.
He deserved me.
Mark had started dating my mother when I was only six. I loved
him almost immediately. He would always bring me a rose when he bought a bouquet for my mother, and he always included me
on their weekend outings to the beach or the museum. Within a
year of meeting each other, he and my mother had bought a
house together and we moved in as a family. For a while,
everything was perfect. I even started calling him Daddy.
The arguments really started when I was about fourteen. I tried
to be respectful and leave go outside when they happened, but
my mother’s high–pitched shouts carried across the backyard.
“I’ve told you a hundred times, there is no way in Hell I’m having
another baby! Just drop it already!”
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Daddy wasn’t shouting, so I couldn’t make out his response to
her. After a few minutes, I heard mother slam the front door and
get into her car and drive away. I went in through the back door
and found Daddy sitting at the kitchen table, cradling his head in
his hands. I sat door in the chair beside him and put my hand on
his shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” It hurt me to see him look so defeated.
“I really love your mother, and I love you more than anything,
Caitlin, but….I’ve just always imagined myself having a child of
my own. Being there in the delivery room, changing diapers, the
sleepless nights. I still want to experience all of that for myself
with a child that I helped create, but your mother is adamant
about not wanting to have another baby.”
I felt a twinge in my heart, both because I felt like I wasn’t
enough for him and because I could see how desperately
wanted a child of his own. I wanted to make it better for him,
but I knew that there was nothing that I could do.
I never heard them have another argument about having a baby,
but it was clear that things were never the same between them
after that. Mother started nagging him about every little thing. If
he wanted to go play a round of golf with his buddies on the
weekend, he was never able to leave the house without some
snide little comment from her. He still brought us flowers every
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Friday until the day that she told him to quit wasting money on something so stupid. After that, Daddy only brought flowers to
me on Fridays.
As I grew older, I picked up on the tension between them more
and more. It became clear to me that Daddy wasn’t having his
needs met in the bedroom. I couldn’t understand why my
mother wouldn’t want to have sex with him. He had always kept
himself in good shape, and his salt–and–pepper hair only made
him sexier. All of my friends kept telling me how badly they
would like to fuck my Daddy, which always made me jealous. I
had to agree with them, though. I knew that I would have done.
the same if I had the chance.
One night I was lying awake in my bed listening to the voices.
coming from my parents‘ bedroom. The thin wall separating my
room from theirs made it easy to hear exactly what they were
saying.
“I told you already, I have a headache.” my mother snapped.
“You do realize that it’s been over two months, right? Have you
had a headache every night for two months?” Daddy asked in an
exasperated tone.
“Fine. Just make it quick.” I couldn’t understand why she was
being such a bitch about everything.
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I never heard my mother make a single sound, but Daddy’s
grunts and moans were clearly audible. My body responded to his sounds of pleasure and my pussy started to tingle.
I wished that he was fucking me instead of my cold fish of a
mother.
I ran my hands down over my breasts, full and perky. My light
pink nipples hardened beneath my touch. My hands continued
their journey over
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.