Big Daddy Wants Me

2: Josh.

I walk down the hall to the en-suite bathroom to pick up the clean beach shorts I'd left there, my phone propped against my left ear as Valerie, my wife rants on the phone. "I can't believe the nerve of that girl. She's still so stubborn as ever, and I believe you're the reason for that, Josh. You give her too much freedom."

I rub my temples, hearing the girls scream outside. Teenage girls are loud, man. It's like they don't understand that other people can hear them. "Valerie, blaming me isn't fair. You're meant to be here with me, not there in Miami – "

"I expect you to be more understanding, Josh! I've wanted this job for the longest time. You know how much It means to me."

"Yes, and your relationship with Annabelle has suffered because of it. Heck, even I am tired of you. This was not the plan."

"Josh, don't be like this."

"Don't be like what?" I flare up. "You've always been about yourself Valerie. Always. No one else matters. And that's why Annabelle hates you."

She gasps. "Annabelle doesn't hate me."

"Okay, so why doesn't she want to come see you? Why is she refusing to come to Miami to be with you? Huh? Because she knows you have never been there for her. And you can't start now. No matter what, a selfish person can never change."

"Josh..."

"I'll speak to you later. I have work to do." Without waiting for her to respond, I hang up the call.

Outside, Annabelle and Chloe are still playing. I scrub my fingers, casting a glance through the window to where they were splashing and giggling. They are good friends, and I am glad Annabelle has someone she can be that close to, even if I prefer if she is friends with a nicer girl than Chloe.

Not that Chloe isn't nice - oh, Chloe is plenty sweet. In fact, the way she speaks to me is beginning to uncomfortably resemble the way her sister, Kiara, speaks to me. Kiara, with her constant flirtations and innuendo.

I just don't want Annabelle to get into any trouble. And Chloe is definitely the kind of girl who brings trouble.

I dry my hands and stand at the window a moment longer, watching them play. It is late afternoon, and the sun is making large, loopy reflections on the surface of the water, dappling their young, golden skin.

Both girls, in their little bikinis, make quite a sight, I have to admit. Maybe that's why I'm worried about Annabelle. She has the kind of body that can make men forget their common sense. So does Chloe.

They are similar in a lot of ways. Both pretty and popular at school – Kiara has had to step into the role of a guardian to Chloe after their mother had remarried and ran away with her new husband. And they'd both developed early. At 19, they both have fully developed breasts, which they make every effort to display to full effect. Annabelle especially is well-developed, and it is nearly a full-time job getting her to cover herself up.

But they are good kids. They have good grades and even work part-time to earn their own money. Like everything else in life, they do that together too, working at a bookshop downtown.

There is something mesmerizing about the afternoon light, I guess, and the two nubile young bodies splashing and running around the pool, and I stay at the window watching - transfixed.

They can't see me, since the house is dark inside, and there is a certain enjoyment in just being able to watch and stare as much as I want.

Annabelle has gotten out of the pool, her tiny white bikini sticking to her wet body, and is lifting a beach ball up in the air to throw to Chloe in the water. I guess it is the feeling of privacy and being unseen that breaks down some of my usual boundaries, but I find myself staring at her breasts as she raises her arms up and then lowers them down after throwing the ball. She has actual perfect t**s. It isn't the sort of thing I should be noticing, although if I am really being honest, I have to admit that I've noticed them long before that day.

I can't help but flick my eyes down over her body every now and then as I watch her grow up. I know what that sounds like, but honestly, men are just wired to notice women's bodies. I have never had to worry that it means anything.

Valerie's breasts were the first thing that drew me to her. I swear I was struck dumb the first time I saw them - so I guess in the back of my mind I just had this purely clinical interest. Would the apple fall far from the tree? And in this case, I can definitely say that, no, this apple was absolutely just like the tree.

... maybe even just a little better... After all, she is younger...

Firmer.

Juicier.

I haven't really been paying attention to my thoughts until I feel my c**k stiffen in my pants, jolting me to awareness.

Oh God. That is my daughter I'm thinking about.

Although... she isn't my biological daughter.

When I'd first met Valerie, she seemed so wild and fun to me. She was beautiful, with that incredible body, and to top it all off she came with this cute little kid in tow. Well, maybe 14 wasn't exactly a kid, but Anna had seemed that way to me.

They were on their own. Anna's father had taken off when Valerie was pregnant, and she had no idea what had happened to him. She hadn't put his name on the birth certificate, and she'd refused to acknowledge thereafter that Annabelle even had a father.

I guess, looking back, I can see how I wanted to save both of them.

But Valerie and I moved too fast. We started having problems right out of the gate - and then we still got married anyway. She loved her job more than anything, and it has always been a big bone to pick with her. But when all my pleas fell on deaf ears, and she moved to Miami to take on a new position in a bank, I just figured I'd let her be.

I haven't dated or even slept with anyone in two years. I don't want Anna to be in the uncomfortable position of having some other woman around while I'm still married to her mother. It will derail the trust she has in me, so I put all thoughts of women out of my mind and just focus on Annabelle.

Is that why, now, I am watching the two girls in my pool with the most inappropriate boner ever?

God, everything I've sacrificed has been for that girl. And I will do it all again, in a heartbeat.

She drives me crazy so much of the time. But what will my life be without her sense of humor and the energy she brings to the house?

I keep watching them. It is as if the growing ache in my c**k is freezing me in place. I don't want to feel what I am feeling - but honestly, it has been a while since I have even jacked off. That, combined with the voyeuristic pleasure of seeing without being seen, is keeping me rooted to the spot.

It is, literally, the worst thought ever. But I can't help but think...

... What harm is there, if no one knows but me?

I unzip my jeans with a combination of anticipation and shame and palm my c**k.

No one would ever know.

No one would ever have to know.