Daddy, Take Me Ch. 07-08

Chapter 7

Winter slowly moved to spring, my twenty-first birthday was fast approaching. Daddy had finally made good on his promise, made to me when I was nine or ten, to take me to Paris. We had missed my nineteenth and twentieth birthdays, and there was NO way we'd miss it again, or renege on my twenty-first! I understood daddy's time constraints this time of year, so I never complained. Pouted, yes, but never complained.

"This year, daddy?" I shyly asked.

"This year, Chloe. I've already put everything in place for the time off. It will be this year, but May, not April...if that's a good compromise?" his eyes almost begged.

I walked to my daddy, wrapped my arms around his head, pulled his firm body to mine, and kissed him.

"Parfait," I whispered.

Over the months, I dated...a bit, but mainly spent my time with Maisie. It was plainly platonic, but with the undertones of desire simmering all the time. She was spending more time at the house, everyone enjoying her company, as she ingratiated herself with my parents, Maggie and Lily.

We were going out for yet another dinner, and dancing, nothing unusual, so I broached the subject with my parents if she could spend the night, as we would be getting home late. Mom's eyebrows had a field day, her little smirk endearing by now.

"Is this such a good idea, Chloe? After all..." she said, all eyes suddenly on me.

Mum and dad had never let me have boys stay over, saying they should be able to afford a nice place to bed me, if and when. It was different with Maisie, though. They probably knew my affection for Maisie, but also knew I had taken their advice to heart...to an extent.

"Aren't you the one who told me that the person who risks nothing, or does nothing, is nothing and becomes nothing, hmm? Well, I'm doing something...slowly, though, okay? We're not dating, or anything, mom. We're just comfortable in each other's company, all right? I'm not rushing, okay? She can sleep in David's room if that will make you happy. I only think that we can stay out a bit later then, that's all," I said, not pleading, but putting my case forward.

"Okay," mom said quickly, turned, and flounced off to do the wash, saying nothing more. And that was that. She didn't say Maisie had to sleep in David's room specifically, so...

Maisie and I had met on our course at Kew two years ago, both of us having more than a vague idea of where we were headed. There was this immediate attraction, but we never acted on it. We became fast friends...as stressful as that was at times! She liked me, but we decided our friendship was more important than acting on our baser impulses...for now. I wasn't sure if I should be hurt. Was I not good enough? Pretty enough, smart enough? Humph! Being two years older than me, she had a bit more life experience, but that didn't seem to bother her.

As usual, it wasn't a date, per se, but I knew we'd both make the extra effort on these now-frequent

nights out. I dressed to please myself, and, if I dared to admit it, to tease and seduce Maisie, always knowing that nothing would happen.

Unusually, she was at mine much too early. Mum opened the door for her, and ushered her upstairs before I could even hug her! All I got was a cheery, "Hi!" What was this all about? I thought.

Mom smiled at me, led me into my room, and started to braid my hair, something I had come to love, not only for the look, but for mom's hands gently in my hair.

"What's mum and Maisie up to?" I asked mom.

"Shhh...you'll see. Just sit still and enjoy this, okay," she smiled.

I sat there in my tight jeans, and satin blouse while my mom methodically wrapped, and pinned my hair.

"Love your bra, darling," she smirked, at me in the mirror.

I had just enough buttons undone to show off the light blue, lacy material. It was yet another of my indulgences, as I had few when it came to clothes! It was expensive as hell, but it was justified as I rarely bought bras. This one was so delicious, though. I just had to have...three! It was made of a soft, stretchable, almost gauze-like silk that covered my small breasts beautifully, and clasped in front by a tiny hook and a single silk ribbon.

I blushed, and said nothing.

After thirty minutes, mom was finished. She stood back and admired her styling.

"You're bloody beautiful, Chloe," she chuckled, at her mindless use of British slang. She leaned down, whispered, "I'd have you," and tucked a few stray hairs away.

"Anytime, mom...well, except for tonight," I giggled, teasing her right back.

"I'd kiss you but don't want to smudge your lipstick. Damn!" she laughed. "Here...try some of this," she said and handed me her bottle of expensive Parisian perfume that she had brought in. I sprayed a tiny bit on my neck, opened my blouse, spritzed my breasts, and handed it back. What's going on here? I thought.

"What coat are you wearing, Chloe?" she asked.

"Dunno," I said, indifferently.

"Missy! (the word she used when exasperated with me) We need to go shopping...soon! Sometimes you need to make more than an effort, okay? I get it...you hate shopping, but clothes can change how you feel, Chloe...and how people see you. Come on, let's see what I have. Make it special, Chloe, all right? It can sometimes make all the difference," she almost pleaded. "You're not hiding anything from us, Chloe. We all know it's Maisie, and we admire the restraint you both are showing...but there's nothing wrong with keeping a girl interested, hmm?" she smiled brightly.

"You...you know it's...Maisie," I asked incredulously, even though I assumed they knew.

"Pfft," she giggled. "Chloe, you're my daughter. Of course, I know! Now, come on. Let's see if they're through so we can find you a coat. Come," she smiled.

True to form, mom found me the perfect coat. Damn her for being right!

I put my trainers on, as I was going for comfort rather than seduction tonight, and walked down the stairs and into the front room. Everyone was in there, waiting for me. Fuck! Let's talk embarrassing for a few moments, okay?

I sit here now, all these years later, thinking about all those times, and smile. If anyone was passing below the balcony and looked up, they'd see and hear this pregnant madwoman cackling away to herself!

Maisie looked...incredible. Mum had coiffed her braided red hair beautifully. Beautiful will never fully encapsulate how she looked that night. I was dumbstruck, and couldn't move. Maggie and Lily ran to me, their hands around my legs, hugging me, and bringing me out of my reverie. Maisie stood, took the three steps to me, and grasped my hands. We looked at each other for hours, but most probably only four seconds, and we tenderly hugged, then chastely kissed. My fingers, so softly, touched her hair.

I could just hear her murmur, "Bonny," through the haze in my mind. My body shivered, as her gentle lilt wrapped around me. She was wearing a lovely, light and delicate dress, cut just above the knee, with plenty of material to swing around her hips and legs. Teasingly, she had the top three buttons undone, distracting my already-bewildered head.

I looked at Maisie and could only half-mutter, "Tu es ma beauté," and could say no more.

Mom broke the atmosphere with a gentle, "Go! Get out of here. Enjoy yourselves...and we'll see you at breakfast," she sniggered.

Maisie turned to me, and raised her eyebrows now. What was with all the women in my life and those bloody eyebrows? After gently kissing everyone, she took my hand and led me out to her car. She was driving, hm? She opened my car door, and helped me in, closing it, and waving to the kids whose noses were pressed up against the window inside.

It was a subtle but telling gesture that we had developed. It seems whoever drove had the more-- well, I wouldn't use the word dominant, but yeah--dominant role that night. It wasn't always like this, but often enough that we both knew.

"You look incredible, Chloe. Just...dote," she sighed, and squeezed my hand.

"Thank you, darling. I'm assuming 'dote' is good? Mom had a go at me and told me I should be making more of an effort, so...ta-da!" I giggled. "I...I do make an effort for you, don't I, Maisie?" I asked.

"My goodness, mo ghràdh...you certainly do! And yes, 'dote' is good," she said, turning all ultra-Scottish on me. I melted. "You always, have...and will. I just know it."

She had used the term before, and I blushed, my face searing with emotion. I was 'her love,' I thought to myself. Mo ghràdh.

We headed to our favourite Thai restaurant, the quarter moon shedding some light on the road. I moved one leg under me, twisted my body, laid my hand on Maisie's thigh, and we chatted...non-stop! I'm glad she drove, as it gave me time to stare at her, not creepy-like, but just to admire her profile. I desperately wanted-no, needed-to run my fingers through her red hair, but I knew I'd be sharply admonished. As well, I should be!

We had the most romantic meal, as if our relationship was moving quicker now. I mean, sure, there was always that underlying romantic feel when we got together, but that night seemed different. I felt elated, and uneasy.

I remember Maisie feeding me the delicious coconut shrimp, my mouth obligingly opening for her fingers as I took the piece, tenderly licked her fingers, and chuckled.

She returned the gesture when I fed her the calamari and sweet chilli, both of us giggling like kids.

I can't remember much more about the meal, but suffice to say, we never mentioned our overt teasing. We talked about anything but what was going on. We just embraced being with each other. I do remember brushing a few stray strands of red hair behind her ears, the gesture saying more than words at this point.

We split the bill and headed out to dance! Maisie found the club, all bright lights, and music playing inside. We grabbed a table, then drank and danced. God, I loved watching her body move, her hips bumping just so, her dress lifting tantalisingly high, and her face aglow with joy. We teased and seduced each other, bathing in our affection for each other. We moved in sync with each other, as we slid around the dance floor, our bodies always touching, even if only with a hand or a look.

We were swaying to a slow number, my head on her shoulder, and Maisie whispering sweet everythings to me. Her hand was on my butt, gently fondling it, as she held me close. Her hands slipped into my back pockets, and she tugged me against her. I let out a low, "Ohh," slipped a leg between hers, and rubbed my groin on hers. She lifted my chin, and kissed me, our bodies pressing into one another, as we floated around the dance floor. She rubbed her fuller breasts against my much smaller ones, my nipples excited with our shifting bodies. As we pulled away, I was going to say something, perhaps tell her I was in love with her, but she put her finger to my lips and said, "Shhh. Let's just dance." An old Van Morrison song, Moon Dance, came on, and I was transported back to our kitchen, dancing with my daddy and mums. I stroked her cheek, leaned in, kissed her, and said, "I'm in love with you, Maisie," and sighed. I probably told her a few times a week, and she accepted the words every time.

"And I'm so in love with you, m'eudail," and she returned my precious kiss. I knew I was 'her darling,' as she often used the exact phrase with me.

A quicker number came on, so we threw each other around, twisting, turning, and flinging our bodies about. Needing a break, we sat, held hands, chatted when the quiet songs came on, and relaxed into our connection. We couldn't be happier.

Three hours later, suitably exhausted, we made our way home.

"So, are you staying the night, darling?" I asked.

"I'd love to, sweetheart. Aye...that'll be braw," she smiled.

I squeezed her thigh, both in excitement, and also trepidation. One of us had to be strong, and I was hoping it would be Maisie. We quietly and soberly opened the front door, giggling like teenagers. We crept upstairs to my room. I let her get comfortable while I quickly went to the bathroom, searching the cupboards for a new toothbrush. I quickly dabbed my face, brushed and peed, and slipped back to my room.

"I laid out a toothbrush for you, ma beauté," I whispered, and she trundled off.

I stood there, uncertain about what to do. Get undressed? Wait for her. Fuck! I put some gentle music on, and set the timer for an hour... just in case. I dimmed the lights, and sat on the bed. And waited. Fuck! Back and forth, my addled brain went; do I or don't I, weighing up each option too quickly. I hoped she would decide for us, knowing my resolve weakened every minute she was gone.

Soundlessly, she opened the door, then just as slowly, closed it. We looked at each other, both frozen and mute.

"Maisie..."I began to say, and she brought her fingers to my lips.

"Shhhh, mo ghràdh," she whispered. "It's okay. We'll sleep together...but that's all, aye?" she said, and took the decision from me.

We painfully watched each other strip, knowing this was a terrible idea, but neither one intended to stop. I went to help her undo her buttons, but she put her hand up...thank God! I sat on the bed, my groin and pussy stirring as never before. I was transfixed watching this sumptuous woman take each piece of clothing from her body. I moved from my dream, went to my drawers, and pulled out a pair of loose boy shorts, knowing, somehow, they would fit, albeit a bit tighter. All bets were off if she dared crawl under my light duvet naked. I found the largest nightshirt, and laid that on the bed for her, as she slipped her dress over her supple shoulders, let it fall from her body, and stood there in her lacy, dainty, cream lingerie. Fuck! She quickly pulled her panties down. My breathing had stopped minutes ago.

I watched as her pert ass was revealed to me. Not the first time, but this was definitely the best. God...now I got it! I understood why all my parents were so engrossed in butts! It was...perfect. Sure, I admired a woman's ass in tight jeans, leggings or a shapely dress, but Maisie's was, by far, the most delectable. My mind ran through a thousand scenarios in just a matter of seconds, all delicious.

Too quickly, she pulled the shorts up her long legs, and snuggly fitted them around her. She dare not even look at me. Thankfully, I thought, she turned around, unclasped her bra, and let it fall in her hands. I was hoping against hope that she would need help to undo the garment. It wasn't 'til much later that I felt glad she didn't. She rubbed the evenings dancing from her breasts, as my lust swept through my body. I could feel my younger pussy dripping. She slid the night blouse over her shoulders, and buttoned it up. She carefully hung her dress up, folded her panties and bra, and then quickly slid between the sheets, her eyes fixed on me. I stood up, taking the spot she had been standing, hastily undid my silk blouse, strolled to the wardrobe, and hung it up. My hands were shaking, my desire building. I turned to her so she could see the bra I was wearing. I heard a short, shallow gasp from her beautiful lips. I slowly unclasped it, pulled the lace ribbon, and it fell open. I was playing with fire, I knew, but...

I rubbed my breasts, more out of desire than need. Maisie's eyes never left my mounds, which thrilled me beyond words. I slipped my silk night blouse around me, and carelessly buttoned it up. [Don't look at her, Chloe, I begged myself], as I undid my belt, unzipped my tight pants, and pulled them down, over my hips, and down my legs. I bent over, and shimmied them off my feet, turned around, and slipped my lacy panties down over my (so I thought) desirable ass. I shakily drew my panties between my wet labia, Maisie only seeing my arms moving, as I couldn't bear for her to watch. I wasn't that cruel; desperate, yes, but not cruel. I quickly jiggled my shorts up my legs, collected my clothes, pulled back the sheet, and slid into bed with this unpretentious beauty for the first time. We laid there, both breathing deep, 'til we began to giggle.

"We were good, weren't we?" she chuckled.

"God knows how, ma bébé," I exclaimed.

"Ah, lass, you know how much I want you, hmm, but it's not the right time...yet. That was quite an ordeal we just put ourselves through, eh?" she laughed, too loud.

We had turned on our sides, facing one another, our hands chastely on each other's hip, and whispered.

Her fingers combed through my hair, loosening my braids. I daren't risk returning the gesture. I wanted to take her and damn the consequences, but I knew we shouldn't. Mom had once said I wouldn't be ready for Maisie 'til my heart had been broken, and I experienced that all-consuming pain. Our hearts hadn't been broken...yet. But, as I told mom, that would mean me having to fall in love with someone. How could I when the woman I loved was lying beside me? Just another quandary in my life, I guess. One day I'd gather the courage to talk with Maisie about this, hoping she would talk me out of it. 'Til then, I had her in my life, and my bed. We kissed goodnight, more chastely than either of us wished. I turned over and slid my butt to her, a tender hand enveloping me, her head snuggly buried in my hair.

"I'm in love with you, Maisie," I whispered, in the air for the twentieth time tonight.

"And I'm in love with you, mo chridhe," she whispered back.

Her heart...I was her heart! I smiled, and drifted off, dreams of a life together swirling through my head. If only...

Chapter 8

Even now, twelve years on, I still remember our first morning waking together...

Maisie's arms were still firmly around me, her hand on my covered breast, her nose in my hair. I half-opened my eyes, her warm breath on my neck, and her body entwined with mine. I pulled her arm tighter around me and smiled. My bladder suddenly woke, but I still lay there, basking in the early morning sun...and Maisie. I had to get up, so I gingery lifted her arm and slipped out as stealthily as I could, from the warmth of her embrace. I grabbed my robe, went to my bathroom, and brushed, peed, and fixed my hair after splashing my tired face with warm water.

Maisie's blue eyes were just opening, as I slipped back under the sheets.

"Mmmm," she sighed, as I leaned over, and kissed her lips.

"Thirsty? Tea?" I asked.

"Mmmm...but not yet. Come here, mo ghràidh, she murmured, and I moved next to her warm, welcoming body. I slipped my hand under her head and pulled her to my chest, her hair tickling my nose. She wrapped her arm around me, and we lay there, quiet and listening to each other's hearts. I lavished tiny kisses on her head, inhaling her morning scent.

"God, Maisie, I can smell you," I hissed quietly.

"STOP!" she giggled, wriggling around my body, her mouth suddenly planting little kisses on my mounds. "Mmmm...maybe I should go pee, hmm?" she half-heartedly said.

"Go! Quickly!" I giggled.

I watched as she moved so furtively and quietly across the room. My fingers delved into my soft shorts, a single finger swiping along my labia. This was such a bad idea, I thought. I pulled my fingers from my shorts, and mildly admonished myself. Too soon, I thought. Humph!

She noiselessly slipped back into the bedroom, and sat on the bed.

"But...?" I said, as I pulled the sheets back for her.

"Chloe, my love...I'm afraid of what I'll...we'll... do if I slide next to you. I...I won't be able to..." and her voice trailed off, the sadness in her eyes breaking my heart.