Eve

Instinctively, I set the coffee mug upon the counter, and as Eve reached me, I enveloped her in my arms. For the first time since I had said goodbye to my daughter, I felt a woman's breasts pressing against me, and it was a very significant moment.

...heightened by the lengthening between us.

My assistant clearly felt it. Her arms wrapped around my lower back, she gently and slowly rubbed against me, helping my erection to grow and solidify.

For several long minutes, Eve and I rubbed slowly against each other as we held each other firmly. We hugged as our bodies moved of their own accord, and when at last she lifted her head to look into my eyes, I saw an expression of desire, of need, of passion.

...of love?

...and before I knew what was happening, my lips sought hers, and we kissed, hungrily.

It was well after the official end of her day when Eve finally donned the skirt to mask the wetness which had formed at the crotch of her swimsuit. We shared one last, brief kiss at the front door before she left the house, and when I closed the door behind her, I breathed a sigh of loss and of relief.

This was happening so, so quickly, and I was not sure that I was in control of my own body any longer.

*****

Friday afternoon finally arrived, as did Eve. On this day, she was dressed "sensibly," wearing a nice blouse and skirt combination. However, the black blouse was mostly unbuttoned, so when she was turned in just the right direction, I was afforded a nice view inside to gaze upon the lacy red bra supporting her well-formed breasts.

There seemed to be a tension in the air, as if neither of us was willing to make the first move toward what we both wanted.

The doorbell rang, and my assistant quickly buttoned her blouse as she left my small office. A few minutes later, she returned, with a package from a client.

To my surprise, it was salmon steaks. I could only smile as I remembered that both times we went out for dinner when I was visiting him a few weeks earlier, I had ordered salmon.

"Do you like salmon?" I asked Eve.

"Definitely!" she replied with an enthusiastic nod.

"Then how about dinner tomorrow evening, to celebrate the end of a successful first week on the job?"

"That would be great, Mr. Randall!"

"Then it's a date?"

Only as she agreed did I realize the significance of the last four words which had left my mouth, but then I smiled, already wishing it was Saturday evening.

As 5PM approached, I took out the business checkbook and wrote a check to Eve for the hours she had worked that week for me. As soon as I had handed her the check, she hugged me. "Thank you for this opportunity, Mr. Randall," she said sincerely.

I should have thanked her, for not only was she helping me by handling the administrative tasks, but she was also helping me to feel younger again, and for that I could never pay her enough.

*****

I had not felt this way in years. I carefully selected my clothes to both look presentable and be able to get out of them quickly. In the end, I opted for a nice button-down shirt with no undershirt, and a pair of jeans. Despite wearing sandals, I wore socks as well, but the colors matched quite nicely.

About five minutes earlier than expected, the doorbell rang, and when I opened the door, I saw Eve smiling up at me with a sparkle in her eyes and cat ears in her hair. I had to laugh at the unexpected surprise, and it reminded me of when Carrie had been in middle school and wanted desperately to be a catgirl for Halloween. Unlike my daughter had done then, however, Eve did not have whiskers drawn onto her face, nor did she sport a tail.

I noted, however, that Eve also was dressed in a manner which would make it easy to undress quickly. She again wore a skirt, paired with a form-fitting top with sleeves extending only to about her mid-forearms. The low heels she wore seemed slightly loose upon her feet as she stepped into the house, as if she intended on kicking them off rather soon.

Since Eve was still two years shy of being legally able to drink alcohol, I had purposely bought sparkling grape juice to accompany dinner. To my surprise, she had never tried sparkling grape juice before, and she loved it – she ended up drinking nearly half the bottle herself. But fortunately, she definitely could not become drunk from it, or else I doubt her mother would have liked me anymore.

Dinner was nice, the conversation friendly and cheerful, and the company definitely wonderful and pleasing to the eyes. Eventually, the chatter turned to Carrie.

My daughter would call the States every Sunday morning my time. One week she would call me, and the next week she would call Eve. The conversations were short, generally about ten minutes, but they were enough to help me make it another two weeks to the next time when I would hear Carrie's voice. As Eve and I spoke about what Carrie had told each of us over the past few weeks, I came to recognize something:

Carrie approved of Eve being close to me.

"Carrie suggested it," Eve said, talking about working for me. "She knew that you could use some assistance, and that you'd be quite comfortable with me because we've already known each other for years."

It was strange in a way to think that, even though she was on the other side of the planet, my daughter was still trying to take care of me, via a surrogate.

"Carrie's right," I admitted with a smile. "I know she practically considers you a sister, and in some ways, you're like a second daughter to me." Eve smiled, her eyes alight. "I'm a bit surprised that I hadn't thought of offering you the admin position much sooner. When Carrie calls again, I'll definitely thank her."

Eve reached across the table, and we grasped hands. There was an energy flowing between us, and a gaze of fondness, of connectedness.

...of desire.

The desire had been percolating all week long. Eve's desire had been quite prominently on display. She had seduced my eyes and enticed my manhood while working her way into my heart. Sitting at the dinner table on our date seemed like the perfect and logical culmination of the week.

"Do you dance, Mr. Randall?"

Eve's question jarred me a bit. "Um... Not very well," I admitted. "I can dance a slow dance, but just barely."

"That's fine," she assured me. "I'm sure you have some slow dance music?" she prompted.

While I put the dinner dishes and leftovers away, Eve combed through my CD collection, and soon a CD Carrie had bought me of slow music featuring the alto and soprano saxophones filled the house with a sensual backdrop which seemed to permeate everything. As I emerged from the kitchen, I was not entirely surprised to see that Eve had removed her low heels. She waited until I had removed my shoes, and then extended a hand to me.

I had never been good at dancing, and even a slow dance had always felt awkward to me. I had assumed that the next time I would dance would be at Carrie's wedding, and that she and I would have ideally had plenty of practice beforehand.

Never had I imagined that I would dance with Eve, or that my body would respond so prominently to her proximity. There was something about her – something beyond just the feel of her against me. There was something which tugged at my heart, which drew me to her, and as we danced slowly with her head against my chest and my hardness unmistakable against her, I knew:

I had to make love to this young woman.

I held her a little tighter, and Eve responded in kind. We stopped dancing and hugged each other tightly. That something was growing ever stronger, becoming more prevalent, linking us in a way I had not felt in many, many, many years.

Of their own volition, my hands moved to the base of her form-fitting top and slid underneath the material, up above the waistline of her skirt. Eve's skin was warm indeed, warmer than one might expect from simply slow dancing. She looked up into my eyes, and I could see both nervousness and desire.

I placed a gentle kiss to her forehead as my hands gently kneaded her sides. She smiled, again communicating both nervousness and desire, but desire was definitely gaining in prominence within her. It was strange: The person who had confided to my daughter once that I was "hot" was before me, was in my arms, was looking up at me with hope – hope that this was true and not a dream, hope that I felt the same way for her, hope that I might accept what she offered.

She offered me herself. She was still fully clothed, and so was I, but the trajectory of the week had made it clear: She was offering herself to me. It had been such a long, long time since I had last enjoyed a woman's body that I began to feel an animalistic urge arise within me, so as I tried to squelch that urge, I once again tightly hugged my daughter's best friend, my arms underneath the back of her shirt, my hands on either side of the clasp of her bra.

"Mr. Randall..." Eve whispered. "Um, boss... Sir..."

Clearly, she was at a crossroads, one I had not considered. Suddenly, as I began to fumble with the clasp, I realized that I was no longer "just" Carrie's father, no longer "just" her new boss. With a kiss, I silenced her, hopefully calming her – to me, what she called me was not an issue, not a concern, and I wanted to set that aside for her, at least for the moment, so that she could better enjoy the now which she and I shared.

An alto sax spoke of burning coals keeping two hearts warmed as a fire was slowly heightened. That is exactly what we were doing: slowly heightening the fire. Our touches and our kisses, especially once I had successfully released the clasp of Eve's bra, kept increasing the desire we shared.

I had a vision. I watched myself from across the living room as a naked Eve lay upon the sofa, one foot over the back and one foot firmly on the floor as I slowly pressed into her young body, amazed at how her eyes rolled back in her head and her hands gripped either the back of the sofa or my wrist.

"Make me yours," Eve whispered. "Please."

I kissed her, buying time. I could be damning myself, damning her. As much as she clearly wanted to give herself to me, as much as I definitely wanted to feel the pleasure of a woman's body once again, so many things could change, and not necessarily for the better. Eve and I could never look at each other the same way ever again, even if we did not continue our current working relationship. If our current boss/assistant dynamic did continue, there would always be that sexual undertone permeating everything, which could quite easily get in the way of my job. Then, of course, there was Eve's mother, who would quite likely hate me forever for becoming involved with her daughter.

And finally, there was Carrie, whose relationship both with her father and with her best friend would be forever transformed, likely negatively, possibly eternally tinged with hatred.

Yet the animal within me was struggling in his cage. For a moment, I remembered the night which I firmly believe to be the night Carrie was conceived, a night of hard sex, a night of multiple climaxes for us both, a night which left each of us marked by deep bites and long scratches, a night which had held no restrictions whatsoever, a night which ended well after sunrise when I poured my love into my wife one more time as her body greedily consumed it all and attempted to digest me as well...

And then my mind was filled with the vision of Eve, essentially strewn upon the floor, covered in sweat, her hair disheveled, my desire seeping from her deeply-clawed body.

I kissed the young woman once again, fiercely, and she responded in kind. Trembling, I kept trying to buy additional time before having to truly decide, for I enjoyed what Eve and I currently shared and I did not want to hurt her or damn her by crossing another line...

Despite myself, I slowly backed her toward the nearest wall. My assistant, my daughter's best friend, my "second daughter" groaned into my mouth as her back made contact with the cool smooth plaster.

My body chased my mind away, then took over.

Although Eve was clearly a willing participant, I molested her, I humped her, I stripped her, I bit her, I clawed at her, and somehow in the process, my clothes were similarly discarded, my back and sides aching from the trails of her fingernails, and all too soon, we stood, naked, gazing deep into each other's eyes, hesitating at the final line in the sand...

She took my hand in hers and led me upstairs. She had been in the house so much when my daughter was here that Eve knew where everything was.

...but at the top of the stairs, she immediately turned to the left.

She turned into my traveling daughter's bedroom.

It was on my daughter's bed that I savored the first taste of my young assistant. It was on my daughter's bed that I was hungrily sucked for the first time in many, many years.

It was on my daughter's bed that Eve's blood was spilled.

It was in my daughter's bedroom, with several pictures of my flesh and blood watching avidly, that Eve cried out for the first time from the carnal bliss I inflicted upon her. She was my consenting prey, and I definitely mated with her like a primal animal, rutting hard and fast, growling loudly as I enjoyed the gift of her eager body, bellowing as her fingernails bore particularly deep into my flesh, rejoicing as she wailed for me, flexed around me, pulled me deeper inside her, selflessly surrendered to me, writhed beneath me as pleasure flowed between and around us...

When it was done, when the primal beast was finally sated, when we held each other close and tried to regain our breath, the tears fell. Hers were tears of joy and tears of love, while mine were tears of despair, for I had changed us both – and the people who meant the most to each of us – forever.

*****

"Mr. Randall?"

Eve's soft voice stirred me awake. The sun had already risen, but the forecasted rain was rhythmically pelting the nearby window of the master bedroom.

"Carrie's on the phone."

"Okay," I mumbled, then suddenly snapped my eyes wide open as I realized what this meant.

With a slightly-shaking hand, I accepted the receiver and brought it to the side of my face. "Good evening, princess."

"I'd say you had a good night," Carrie laughed.

"Oh?"

"Don't worry, Dad. Eve's already told me."

"Oh?" I could not mask the note of worry in my voice.

"Dad, don't worry. I'm happy. I'm happy for you both. Eve's admired you and she's wanted you for a long time. I've known for a while that she's wanted you to be her first. She's been saving herself for you, Dad, and I think she couldn't have picked a better man to give her her first experience."

I began to cry for the second time in well under twelve hours. Eve spooned behind me, her nudity at once comforting and damning as she reached over my hip and took my manhood in her hands.

"There's no reason to cry, Dad," I heard. "I know it's been ages since you last even dated, let alone had sex with anyone. I know you – you're probably beating yourself up for having taken Eve's gift: herself. But remember: Eve loves you, and I know that you feel a lot for her as a 'second daughter' of sorts. There must be more than just 'second daughter' feelings, though, or else you wouldn't have actually gone all the way with her."

Still Eve masturbated me, arousing me as I cried in shame, in distress.

...in recognition that my daughter, on the other side of the planet, was absolutely correct.

"I need to hang up, since my time is almost done," I heard, "but remember that I love you, Dad, and so does my future step-mom."

*****

When Eve arrived for work on Monday, she was dressed sensibly: a nice shirt and a nice pair of pants, with low heels and a modest bra discernable through the white shirt. And when I saw her, I knew:

There would be many, many more nights similar to and far more romantic than Saturday night before the wedding.

Due to the very peculiar situation, we eschewed a traditional large church wedding, instead marrying at the courthouse downtown with only a handful of witnesses. Eve's mother cried, and Carrie supported her nicely.

Before we left for the airport, my daughter shared a long, long hug with her best friend and step-mother, and they traded several conspiring whispers before finally separating.

"What did Carrie whisper in your ear?" I asked as the plane taxied to the runway, finally unable to hold back my curiosity any longer.

Eve smirked. "That has to wait until we reach cruising altitude over the Atlantic, Mr. Randall."