The Father

Chapter 6

I stand on the balcony and stare down at the passing cars, the traffic, and the people who crowd the sidewalks. I'm smoking a cigarette slowly and stare at the orange and purple shades in the sky. I've been expecting a call from work at any time, as far as Lena knows I'm there already, slaving away. But in reality I've been fucking Katherine into oblivion and leaving this hotel bed in ruins.

The comforter is half on, half off, the sheets are wrinkled and stained with come, both hers and mine, and the pillows are bunched up in one corner against the headboard.

My eyes focus on my belt and my cock wants to grow hard, but I'm not sure if I could handle anymore right now. We fucked twice in a matter of hours. But the belt... I hit someone with a belt. I hit a woman with my belt because she wanted me to, goaded me into it. That's confusing, a new territory for me, but I always knew she has some deep daddy issues. I was definitely right. This is different than just calling someone daddy, anyone can do that. It takes a special kind of someone to want to be abused with a leather belt. To be punished. To be used, like she said she wants to be. Her little body was writhing beneath my hands, under my control, and she was moaning. She said she loved it, her pussy got so wet,

I wonder if she's feeling the way I am. I told her I think I could start falling for her and that was a lie. I am falling for her. It doesn't make any sense, I can't explain it. I don't even know her, not really, but these feelings are undeniable. In the small amount of trysts we've had, I can't recall any sexual situations that even come close to them. Not with my wife, not with anyone.

I feel safe with you.

I make her feel safe. She made a little confession of her own. And right now she's on her way back to her apartment, to my son, who loves her it seems. She even said it back, which made my stomach twist. She was quick to say to me that she didn't love him, but who knows? She's lying to him, so why wouldn't she lie to me?

It's like she said. If I loved my wife I wouldn't be here, so maybe the same goes for her. It took her saying that to really make me realize I don't love Lena, I tolerate our marriage for the sake of simply staying together. We made a promise to stay together, we have two children, a home, and she's everything. But if we were only dating, if I were a much younger man, I would have left in a heartbeat due to her lack of interest in me sexually.

Will she sleep with Maxwell now, too? Will she let him inside of her after I've been there and filled her up with my come? Will he get to touch her? Or does she have more class than that?

Slut.

She's a self proclaimed slut and I love the way she wants me to call her that. But if she's a slut, an actual slut, then I am too. Maybe not, because I'm only sleeping with her even though I'm married to someone else.

I'm worse than a slut. And it's getting worse all the time because now I've fallen for her, someone I don't even fucking know. The thought of Maxwell touching her, even kissing her, makes me jealous. It's ridiculous, I tell myself, to be jealous of someone I'm not even really involved with.

I need to stop thinking about this, she's only just left, how can I want her so bad, so quickly? But as I stare at the remnants of our lovemaking left on the bed I am suddenly overcome with emotion. Christ, I can still taste her. That sweet, delicious, tangy arousal. She wanted me just as badly as I wanted her. Many things are racing through me; lust, guilt, sadness, anger. I am stripping the remainder of my clothes off before I am even aware of what I'm doing, rushing for the bathroom, and I jump into the shower before the water is even hot.

As the steam fills the air it becomes hard to breathe, I lean against the wall with my hands flat, and let the water rush over me.

I've fallen for her. God, I've fallen for her. This all feels like a cliché. It is a cliché. I've fucked the girl four times. She's the first person I've slept with besides my wife in twenty years. She's more than half my age. This can't be happening.