her right now."
Matt
I can't believe Sophie is really here. I know people might think my obsession with her is wrong, but it isn't. I’ve been divorced for five years and she's an adult. She's eighteen, and I can’t deny my need to make her mine.
She entered my heart as a child, a beautiful, fun-loving child. She was always so happy and upbeat. I loved the breath of fresh air she brought to our home. Her presence did more than make Becky happy; it lightened everyone around her.
Becky's mother and I went through our problems—we even tried counseling with a sex therapist, Dr. Kizer—and over time, I forgot about the sweet little girl with the big blue eyes. I moved on with my life and my business. Things went well with business. It dominated my world. I've been extremely successful.
My personal life side not so much.
And then I stumbled across something about Sophie on one of my daughter's Facebook memories. I dug a little more and learned about the loss of Sophie’s parents and her struggles. It broke my heart to think of the carefree happy girl being sad.
I watched from afar. At first, my goal was to help her financially. Obviously, she's working too much for someone so young. I never see pictures of her out having fun like others her age. Instead, her posts are about school and work, too much for someone so young. Then as she matured, I longed to see a carefree woman, an older version of the little girl.
Now, the way she's looking at me, I can only hope that she hasn't forgotten me or doesn’t think of me as some old man.
The thickest, longest lashes I've ever seen veil her big blue eyes as she lowers her chin. "Please don't tease me because I've thought of you often."
She's thought of me?
Immediately, I miss her eyes, so I lift her chin. "Sophie, the only teasing I want to do to you has nothing to do with who I'm seeing. I know this may sound like I'm some sort of creep, but I never forgot you, your smile, or your laugh. I lost track of you, but then a few years ago you popped up on Facebook, and I learned what you've been going through. I'm amazed by the woman you are, even though you're young."
Her chest expands and contracts, pressing her tits against my chest, making my dick grow harder as I imagine feeling them against my skin. I envision their perkiness as her nipples harden at my touch. Fuck that, at my words, as I tell her what I want to do to her.
"Young?" she asks in almost a whisper. "You think I'm too young?"
"I think you're perfect. I think you're old enough to decide if you want to see me—to be with me—and if you want me to see you."
"Y-you'd want that? To see me?"
Her innocence captivates me. There’s a sparkle in her shy grin. I want to take away that shyness—and be the one to take her innocence. I want her to feel more comfortable with me than she ever has with anyone else.
I lower my lips to hers, wanting to go slow, but the attraction is too strong. I can't simply brush a chaste kiss on her. I need to have her: her lips, her soft skin, all of her. There's not an inch of her I don't want to claim. My cock turns to stone as I imagine having all of her: her small tits in the palms of my hands and my cock buried deep inside her.
All at once I wonder.
Is Facebook right?
Or could she be seeing someone else?
Has someone else had what I want as mine?
I force our kiss to end as I look down at her veiled eyes and bruised lips. "Tell me. Tell me the truth. Are you seeing someone?"
She doesn't speak, but her head moves from side to side.
Though I'm relieved, I need to know one more thing. I know it sounds shitty, like some sort of barbaric caveman, but I want to know. "Have you? Has someone else been with you?"
Her head falls forward until her forehead hits my chest. I sense sadness emanating from her. The silence eats at me like acid in my gut, filling me with a fury that I can't describe. I haven't seen Sophie in years, yet I've known the undeniable truth for a while—she is mine.
Should I have moved sooner?
Did someone else touch her?
Did someone hurt her?
Fuck! Her