Daisy Penelope Bloom, a young American woman living in Liverpool, Britain, across from her best friend Melody Price. Mel's father, John Price, has been away on a year long mission. When he returns, he finds his daughter all grown up, and his daughte...
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Daisy couldn't sleep that night. The image of John's heated climax played on a loop in her mind, rewinding and replaying every time she closed her eyes. She tossed and turned, the sheets sticking to her sweaty skin, her hand subconsciously drifting down to the spot between her legs that still thrummed with desire.
She felt guilty for enjoying the sight of her best friend's father in such an intimate moment—But she also felt a newfound sense of power, a secret thrill that she had never experienced before.
The next day was awkward. She couldn't look John in the eye without feeling her cheeks burn. Every time she saw him, she was reminded of his naked form, the sound of his moans, and the way his body had tensed before release.
She felt like she was carrying a dirty secret around with her, and it was getting heavier by the minute. She avoided him as much as she could, retreating to Melody's room whenever he was around.
A week has gone by since that night, and Daisy's guilt has grown into a heavy burden she can't shake. She's barely talked to Alex, her boyfriend, and even when they're together, she can't bring herself to be intimate with him.
The sight of John's pleasure haunts her, making it impossible to ignore the feelings that have been stirring inside her.
During the day, she throws herself into her work, hoping to distract herself from the thoughts that plague her. Today is no different, with Daisy sat at the kitchen table with Melody, a game of UNO splayed out between them.
"Girl, don't cheat! I can see you tryna catch a glance at my cards," Daisy teases Melody, trying to lighten the mood with a playful smile. The two of them sit in the kitchen, the warm glow of the pendant light casting a cozy ambiance over the faded wooden table. They've settled into a friendly game of UNO, the colorful cards slapping down on the surface as they banter back and forth. "It's just not in your nature to be sneaky, Mel. You've got a face like a kiddie pool—everything shows."
"Yeah, well, you've got a face like a poker champion, so maybe we're even," Melody retorts with a laugh, rolling her eyes.
"I'm just playing to win, that's all!" But even as Daisy laughs, her mind wanders back to John. She can't help but feel a twinge of desire every time she hears his footsteps in the hallway, every time his deep voice echoes through the walls. It's like a secret thrill, a forbidden fruit that she's tasted and now can't stop craving.
She shifts in her chair, the fabric sticking to her damp thighs as she tries to ignore the pulsing between her legs. She's lost count of the times she's masturbated to the memory of that night, her hand moving in time with John's in her mind, her cries of pleasure muffled by a pillow.
Melody notices Daisy's distraction and nudges her playfully. "Earth to Daisy! You're supposed to be paying attention to the game, not daydreaming about...whatever it is you're thinking about," she says, raising an eyebrow.
Daisy blushes, snapping back to reality, and quickly slaps down a card. "Sorry, I'm just tired, I guess," she mumbles, hoping Melody buys the lie. But Melody's gaze lingers on her, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
During their game, the tension in the air is palpable, charged with the unspoken secret that sits heavily on Daisy's mind. She keeps her eyes on the cards, but she can feel John's presence in the house, like a phantom touch that sends shivers down her spine.
She wonders if Melody suspects anything, if she's noticed the way Daisy jumps every time her father's voice booms from the living room, or the way she turns away when he walks in.
John eventually enters the kitchen, a beer in hand, his eyes scanning the table. "What's the score, girls?" he asks, his tone casual, as if he hasn't been haunting Daisy's thoughts every waking moment.
Daisy's heart skips a beat, and she keeps her eyes downcast, focusing on her cards as she mumbles a response.
"It's not fair, Daisy keeps playing draw fours and skips on me!" Melody complains with a playful pout. John chuckles, the sound a stark contrast to the turmoil in Daisy's chest.
"It's not my fault you slap every good card down the moment you get one. I, for one, know how to save the best for last," Daisy snorts.
John's eyes meet hers briefly, and Daisy feels a jolt of electricity. Did he know? Did he suspect? The thought sends a fresh wave of arousal through her, and she quickly looks away, pretending to be engrossed in the game. But the way he's looking at her, the way his eyes linger just a little too long, makes her stomach flip.
"I'm gonna go use the bathroom. Don't peak at my cards, Daisy!" Melody says with a wink, getting up from the table.
Daisy's heart races as John takes a seat next to her, the heat of his body radiating through the space between them. She tries to keep her breathing steady, her eyes still glued to the cards.
As Melody leaves the room, John leans in closer, his warm breath tickling Daisy's ear. "You've been avoiding me, Daisy. Is everything okay?" His voice is low and concerned, sending a shiver down her spine.
She swallows hard, her throat dry. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just been busy with work," she lies, hoping her voice doesn't betray her.
John's hand rests on the table, just inches from hers. Daisy can't help but stare at it, her mind flashing back to the way he'd gripped himself that night. She feels her pussy clench at the memory and quickly looks up, meeting his gaze. His eyes are dark and intense, as if he's trying to read her soul.
"You know, I've noticed you've been a bit... out of it. Is there something you want to talk about?" he asks, his tone gentle but firm.
"No. Nope. Nothing at all. I'm fine. Everything is fine." Daisy's voice is a little too high, a little too forced. She can feel the heat in her cheeks as she fumbles with the cards in her hand.
John looks at her for a moment, his eyes searching hers, and she wonders if he can see the guilt written all over her face. But then he smiles, a soft, reassuring smile that makes her feel like maybe, just maybe, he doesn't know. "Alright, Daisy. If you ever need anything, you know I'm here, right?" He gives her hand a quick squeeze, and she has to fight the urge to jerk away from his touch. Instead, she nods, her eyes lingering on their intertwined fingers before she pulls her hand back to her lap.
Melody returns to the kitchen, and the game resumes, but the tension between Daisy and John is thick enough to cut with a knife.
Every time she looks at him, she sees the images from that night replaying in her mind, his hand moving in rhythm with her own, the way his body had tensed just before he came. She tries to push the thoughts away, but they cling to her like a second skin, impossible to ignore.
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