Paul McCartney Smut

Regret

80s Paul

14 months ago, Clara's mother died. She got hit by a car. In all the darkness that came with her death, one tiny bit of light came from it: Clara got to stay with me.

She could have gone to stay with her biological father, but thankfully she didn't. He wasn't much in the picture anyways.

Clara has always been my little girl until that gruesome day. That day she became...something else.

I met Clara's mom when she was just 10 years old. We clicked immediately. After a couple of months she even started calling me 'daddy'.

When Clara turned 17 and graduated high school, she left home to live with her aunt over in America. She was going to study criminology over there. She was going to stay there for at least 4 years. Then however, her mother died. She came home a year early and decided to stay in England with me.

I will forever be grateful that she did, because without her, i don't think i would have ever gotten over her mother's death. And I helped her through that dark period too. We had healed each other.
And everyday, i would find little pieces, little resemblances of her mother, back in her. She was just like her mom and it fascinated me.

That fascination though, turned into an obsession.
I started looking at Clara differently. She wasn't that little girl anymore from when she left for America. She was a woman now.

She had blossomed into this beautiful young woman and...she resembled her mother so much. I can't help but stare at her whenever she's around me.

I know what you might think, it's disgusting. But i don't think she minds. I think she noticed me looking at her, biting my lip, sweating and almost panting when she's sitting next to me.

And i think....that...over these couple of months i have started to fall for her.

1979

"Dad, could you come over here for a second?" Clara calls me.

I make my way over to the kitchen and see my step-daughter standing there, struggling to open a jar of pickles.

She smiles relieved as she sees me enter.

"Oh finally. Could you open this for me?" She asks, handing me the jar.

"Sure."

I open it for her and hand her the jar.

"Thanks daddy. That's why i'll always need you. You are just so strong." She says playfully, pinching my arm.

Daddy. Why do i feel the way i do when she calls me that?

-

"What'cha watching?" Clara asks as i flip mindlessly through the tv channels.

"Nothing really." I reply, glancing over at her. She's wearing one of my shirts. It's way too big on her. It falls just over her bum, which makes it hard for me to tell wether or not she's wearing something underneath it.

With a huff, she plops down next to me. Her head is resting on my chest and her hand on my thigh.

I clear my throat and settle on watching some random movie that's playing.

The two protagonists of the movie start to kiss.
I look around the room awkwardly and start humming an unknown tune.

"It's just two people kissing daddy." Clara says, rubbing her hand along my thigh.

Fuck.

"Can you play with my hair? I always like it when you do that." She asks.

It's true. I have always done that to her. Since she was a little kid.