Daddy, I want more
img img Daddy, I want more img Chapter 5 Chapter 5
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Chapter 11 Chapter 11 img
Chapter 12 Chapter 12 img
Chapter 13 Chapter 13 img
Chapter 14 Chapter 14 img
Chapter 15 Chapter 15 img
Chapter 16 Chapter 16 img
Chapter 17 Chapter 17 img
Chapter 18 Chapter 18 img
Chapter 19 Chapter 19 img
Chapter 20 Chapter20 img
Chapter 21 Chapter21 img
Chapter 22 Chapter22 img
Chapter 23 Chapter23 img
Chapter 24 Chapter24 img
Chapter 25 Chapter25 img
Chapter 26 Chapter26 img
Chapter 27 Chapter27 img
Chapter 28 Chapter28 img
Chapter 29 Chapter29 img
Chapter 30 Chapter30 img
Chapter 31 Chapter31 img
Chapter 32 Chapter32 img
Chapter 33 Chapter33 img
Chapter 34 Chapter34 img
Chapter 35 Chapter35 img
Chapter 36 Chapter36 img
Chapter 37 Chapter37 img
Chapter 38 Chapter38 img
Chapter 39 Chapter39 img
Chapter 40 Chapter40 img
Chapter 41 Chapter41 img
Chapter 42 Chapter42 img
Chapter 43 Chapter43 img
Chapter 44 Chapter44 img
Chapter 45 Chapter45 img
Chapter 46 Chapter46 img
Chapter 47 Chapter47 img
Chapter 48 Chapter48 img
Chapter 49 Chapter49 img
Chapter 50 Chapter 50 img
Chapter 51 Chapter 51 img
Chapter 52 Chapter 52 img
Chapter 53 Chapter 53 img
Chapter 54 Chapter 54 img
Chapter 55 Chapter 55 img
Chapter 56 Chapter 56 img
Chapter 57 Chapter 57 img
Chapter 58 Chapter 58 img
Chapter 59 Chapter 59 img
Chapter 60 Chapter60 img
Chapter 61 Chapter61 img
Chapter 62 Chapter62 img
Chapter 63 Chapter63 img
Chapter 64 Chapter64 img
Chapter 65 Chapter65 img
Chapter 66 Chapter66 img
Chapter 67 Chapter67 img
Chapter 68 Chapter68 img
Chapter 69 Chapter69 img
Chapter 70 Chapter 70 img
Chapter 71 Chapter 71 img
Chapter 72 Chapter 72 img
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Chapter 5 Chapter 5

The sliding patio door made a loud noise, catching our attention. Dr. Johnson went outdoors, holding a pitcher and two disposable cups.

David beamed and questioned his father, "What's that?" in a playful tone, as if it were a joke I hadn't gotten.

Dr. Johnson responded swiftly, "Fresh orange juicy." A little too rapidly.

In this case, David chuckled. Perhaps I should walk over and inform her that you find orange to be a particularly unpleasant flavor. Those cookies would be easy enough for her to bake again. The brownies, perhaps? The acclaim they received was well-deserved.

My brow furrowed in bewilderment. Swimming beside me, David encircled me with his arms.

Our next-door neighbor just went through a divorce and is now romantically interested in my father. To this day, she has been attempting to woo him with sweet treats. Constriction set in as he tightened his grip. "Hey. Why have you stopped making baked goods for me to enjoy?

It's probably because I'm so busy and we seldom get to hang together. My intended tone wasn't as sharp as it came out.

Dr. Johnson carried the pitcher and glasses over to the glass table situated beneath the umbrella. In any case, take it easy and have fun.

Do you believe she threw a roofie? Even if it was mentioned in jest, Dr.suspicions Jonson's about the pitcher were piqued by his son's remark.

I think it's safe to go back in there," he replied.

What a ringing recommendation," David said jokingly.

His hands started to fiddle with the cords around my hips while we were submerged. I tried to move away from him, but he didn't understand, and my annoyance level quickly rose to a boiling point.

I came over here not to have sexual relations with you.

He gave me a befuddled expression. Which begs the question, "Then why did you?"

What the heck.

The remainder of my heart was shattered by his one inquiry. He couldn't fathom why I'd be interested in being here for any other purpose. After that, he no longer considered me a buddy but just a convenient object for rubbing his dick against. Truth hit me like a ton of bricks, and I felt tears well up in my eyes. My tone became weak. David, I've reached my breaking point. "That was a waste of time; now it's finished."

"What?" His shoulders jerked and he turned into a block of wood. However, he obviously heard me, as shown by his response.

A new you has emerged. Now that time has passed, we've changed.

His face froze in a permanent look of astonishment. The only sound was the soft slap of water against the pool's edge, and the tension was palpable. Until the second time the sliding patio door bell chimed.

No, he barked at his dad.

Dr.productivity Jonson's was unaffected by this setback. There was a cordless phone in his hand. It's the boss calling. According to him, you're not picking up your phone.

David swam to the edge of the pool and whispered, "Fuck." "My power supply gave out." He extended a hand and snatched the phone from the operator. "Hello?"

He stopped to hear the other side, his face crunching up in an irritated expression.

In other words, I won't be in today. I have till Wednesday off.

My eyes met Dr. Johnson's, and the realization seemed to strike both of us simultaneously. This day was Wednesday.

David screamed "shit" into the phone and hurried for the stairs. Indeed, of course. I really apologize. It will take me around fifteen minutes to get there.

He quickly climbed out of the pool, leaving the phone on the seat cushion, and reached for the towel lying nearby. Given that he failed to provide a towel, I offered him mine.

Scrubbing the water from his body, he murmured, "I have go." Maybe he was talking to his dad and I didn't get it. I've already been running behind schedule.

David saw Dr. Johnson's displeasure, shown by the way he crossed his arms over his large chest.

He responded, "Yeah, I know," before wrapping the towel around his hips and dashing out the patio door. I made a boo-boo. Sorry."

Another mystery unsolved: who these apologies was meant for. When my blood started to boil, I was relieved to be in the refreshing water. He hadn't considered sticking around to chat. Without even a farewell, he avoided any verbal contact with me. Physically and emotionally, I was left to float as he disappeared inside the home.

I lost my cool out of sheer exasperation. I can't believe he didn't realize it was Wednesday.

He'd messed up for the summer, but he had to get things done. David behaved as if having spending money for his approaching sophomore year was a matter of life and death, despite the fact that he knew that waiting tables wasn't.

Dr. Johnson let out a deep sigh. I'm very sad for his loss. You may remain as long as you like.

Maybe not... "Thanks."

There was a pause in his actions. Also, "we have homemade lemonade."

I responded, "I see what you're up to." "I know you want to dump it on me," he said.

With a grin and a nod that suggested he knew he was in trouble, he seemed to admit his guilt. I feel terrible letting all this out. Assuming your taste runs toward lemons, I can assure you it will be delicious and safe from any illegal drugs.

            
            

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