Thread: You Again? (rpfiend_123 & AnnaBeth Belle)

He had turned and was just about to close the bedroom door behind him when he heard a quiet whimper, and a subtle, but still audible 'Daddy..' leave her lips. His reaction to that word was entirely involuntary, but he felt a familiar shiver run down his spine. Sam called him Dad. He knew she was obviously out of it, but that didn't make her mistake have any less of an effect on him. He shit the door, his hand gripping the doorknob. One quick exhale and a tight shut of his eyes, followed by a quick head shake to get his mind right, and he was off again to cook dinner for the family. Well, by 'the family,' it actually meant just Sam. Claire was working late. Surprise. After Sam went to bed, he did his nightly routine. He made his protein shake and put it in the fridge, as well as packed his gym bag so that he could grab and go in the morning before anyone got up. That night he had a bit of trouble sleeping. He kept playing back the audio and video from the day in frightening detail. The bare, pink back of his daughter's friend. The feminine color and lace of her underwear. The sultry, yet innocent sound of her voice saying his name.. No, she didn't say HIS name per se.. But she was talking to him. 'FORGET IT, MIKE!' His mind said loudly. These are just a couple of weird run-ins with Brooke. If it was anyone else.. Sam, or even her other friend's, it'd be completely benign. It just comes with the territory of being a dad and taking care of teenage girls and their friends. He tossed for a bit before finally going off to sleep. That morning he woke up in a hazier state than normal - obviously due to his lack of sleep the night before. Almost instantly, the not-so-faint memories of the previous day's run ins with Brooke flooded back into his mind. He sat on the edge of the bed, running his hands over his muscular neck. Rolling his head from side to side with a yawn. You're gonna have to get that under control, Mike. he said to himself gruffly, out loud, referring to his runaway thoughts. Mike usually slept naked. He stood up and stretched, putting his hands on his tight lower back. He looked a bit more like a greek sculpture than a human man in the dim light of morning. His core twisted and rippled as he tensed all the muscles in his body before relaxing them again. He shuffled over to his dresser like a zombie, running his hair through messy blonde hair before pulling out some black compression shorts and sliding them on. He winced a bit as his manhood, already hardening from his morning condition, got popped by the tight elastic waist band. He gingerly reached in, managing to put the thick member down the side of his thigh before re-adjusting his skin-tight black shorts. He'd definitely have some frustration to work out at the gym this morning. His mouth felt unusually dry. He opened his door and shuffled through the house to the kitchen, his eyes adjusting to the light from the open fridge. He put his head down so as to not gaze directly into the open fr.... Wait.. why was the refridgerator open? Had he left it open the night before? Surely no one else was up at this hour. Sam always slept late.. could Claire have come home early? When his eyes felt less sore from the white light, he looked up, focusing in on the unmistakeable shape of thin, yet toned legs, reaching up to meet a perfectly shaped, round butt, half exposed and half covered by stretched light green fabric, sillouhetted by electronic light. In a moment, he knew this image was seared into his mind. His eyes soaked in ever detail it could, and his brain recorded the detail of the lace rimming of the feminine panties, the curve of her soft flesh. His eyes opened wide. For a moment he thought it may have been Claire, but his shirtless stomach tightened, his mouth fell agape, and his eyes widened as his brain made the conclusion there was only one person to whom those legs and ass could belong. Brooke. If yesterday had been 'perfectly alright' and he 'hadn't seen anything,' then this morning's run in was on a completely different level. A million thoughts and no thoughts flooded his vacant mind all at once. Wh.. he let out an involuntary question, almost noiseless, but in the completely still, quiet home, definitely audible. He clapped a hand over his mouth with a wince. 'Shit!' he thought to himself. There's no way she didn't hear that. He immediately turned his head to the side, almost giving his head whiplash. Opening up a nearby cabinet door so that it opened between his face and Brooke's posterior. He cleared his throat. Morning Brookie. he said in a quiet, rough tone. Just then he realized the state of his dress. Or rather, his undress. He looked down over himself, his look still obscured by the walnut wood cabinet door. He was shirtless, which of course, was fine. She'd seen him like that. But the smallness and tightness of his workout underwear was magnitudes more revealing than swimtrunks. And his morning erection - given new fervor by the sight of a young woman's almost naked backside - was swelilng and stretching against the black fabric, fighting to be given it's biological want.