Daddy After the Breakup

The doorbell rang at 9:42 p.m.

Tom Cole opened it to find Emily standing there, wearing nothing but an oversized hoodie, a faint smirk on her lips, and the scent of night rain clinging to her skin.

"Hey, Mr. Cole," she said. "Got some of Josh’s stuff."

He nodded. “Come in.”

She stepped inside, dropping a bag by the stairs. “He’s not here?”

“He’s out,” Tom replied, watching her from the corner of his eye as she padded barefoot into the living room.

“Good,” she said, smiling, curling onto the couch like she still lived there. “I didn’t come to see him anyway.”

Tom blinked. “No?”

She looked at him, eyes narrowing like a secret slowly unfolding. “I came to see you.”

The words hung in the air like thunder just before the strike.

He stayed quiet.

She tapped her wine glass against the table, finished it, and looked at him again.

“You ever think about me?” she asked. “Even once, while I was still with him?”

“Emily,” he warned, voice low.

She got up and crossed the room slowly, her bare legs peeking out with every step. “Because I thought about you. A lot. Thought about how your eyes lingered, how you looked at me when Josh didn’t. I felt it.”

“I’m your ex’s father.”

“And I’m not his anything anymore,” she said, standing in front of him, close enough to feel the heat between them. “So I’ll ask again… did you ever think about me?”

Tom met her gaze. “Every damn day.”

That was all she needed.

She leaned in, kissed him like she’d rehearsed it in her mind a hundred times.

When he didn’t pull away, she deepened it, hands sliding under his shirt. His body responded before his guilt had a chance to speak.

He lifted her onto his lap, and she straddled him eagerly, grinding her hips into his growing erection. Her breath hitched as he gripped her ass beneath the hoodie.

“No panties?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “Didn’t want to waste time.”

He pulled the hoodie up, revealing her body—soft, glowing in the warm light.

Her nipples were already hard, her chest rising fast.

He leaned forward and kissed her breast, tongue circling her nipple as she gasped, fingers curling into his hair.

“I’ve wanted this since the first dinner you invited me to,” she whispered. “You sat across the table, and I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I shouldn’t be doing this either,” she said, “but I am.”

He picked her up without warning and laid her back on the couch. Her legs opened instinctively. He kissed her inner thighs, her scent pulling him in. Then his tongue met her folds, and she cried out.

“Fuck—Tom—oh god—”

He took his time, licking, teasing, sucking her clit with focused intent until she was trembling and panting.

When he stood and pulled his shorts down, her eyes widened at the sight of his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” she breathed, then reached for it, stroking him with both hands. “You’re so much more than I imagined.”

He grunted, jaw clenched, as she teased the tip with her tongue. “You imagined this?”

“Too many nights to count.”

She opened her mouth and took him in, eyes locked on his. Her lips wrapped around his shaft, slow and wet. He groaned, placing a hand on the back of her head, guiding her rhythm.

She pulled off with a pop. “I want you inside me. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate.

He lined up and pushed into her slowly. She gasped as he filled her, legs locking around his waist.

“Fuck me,” she whispered. “I want you to make me forget him.”

He thrust deep and slow, watching her arch her back, hands gripping the armrest. Her pussy clenched around him, so warm, so tight it was almost painful to hold back.

“Harder,” she begged. “Don’t be gentle.”

He slammed into her, rough and urgent. The couch creaked, her cries grew louder, his balls slapped against her ass with every thrust.

“You’re mine tonight,” he growled.

“Yes,” she moaned. “All yours. God, I needed this…”

He flipped her over, pulled her up on all fours. The hoodie was bunched around her shoulders now, and he took a moment to admire the curve of her back, the arch of her ass.

Then he pushed back into her, harder this time.

She screamed into the cushions, knuckles white as he gripped her hips and pounded into her from behind. Wetness coated his shaft, her juices running down her thighs.

“I’ve never been fucked like this,” she choked out. “You’re so deep—fuck, I’m gonna—”

Her body clenched, back arching as she came hard, legs shaking.

He flipped her again, straddled her chest. “You said you wanted it all.”

She opened her mouth obediently.

He stroked himself fast, aiming for her lips, her face. “Fuck, Emily—take it—”

His cock pulsed and he came across her face, thick spurts landing on her cheeks, mouth, and chin. She moaned and licked her lips, eyes dazed with satisfaction.

They were still catching their breath when it happened.

The door creaked open.

“Dad?”

Tom froze.

Emily's eyes widened.

Josh’s voice cut the silence like a blade. “Dad, my charger—”

And then he appeared.

He saw everything. The couch. The mess. His naked father hovering over his ex-girlfriend, her mouth still wet with cum.

His eyes widened.

Emily covered herself, suddenly modest.

Tom stood, stepping in front of her. “Josh—”

Josh looked at him with a face drained of everything.

“No,” he said. “No fucking way.”

“Son—”

But Josh was already turning, already backing out. The door slammed hard enough to rattle the windows.

Emily sat up, still panting, wiping her face.

Tom looked down at her, guilt crashing into his chest like a hammer.

“I should go,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you probably should.”

She got dressed quietly. No tears. No excuses. Just silence.

At the door, she paused.

“I don’t regret it,” she said. “Even if it broke everything.”

And then she was gone.The doorbell rang at 9:42 p.m.

Tom Cole opened it to find Emily standing there, wearing nothing but an oversized hoodie, a faint smirk on her lips, and the scent of night rain clinging to her skin.

"Hey, Mr. Cole," she said. "Got some of Josh’s stuff."

He nodded. “Come in.”

She stepped inside, dropping a bag by the stairs. “He’s not here?”

“He’s out,” Tom replied, watching her from the corner of his eye as she padded barefoot into the living room.

“Good,” she said, smiling, curling onto the couch like she still lived there. “I didn’t come to see him anyway.”

Tom blinked. “No?”

She looked at him, eyes narrowing like a secret slowly unfolding. “I came to see you.”

The words hung in the air like thunder just before the strike.

He stayed quiet.

She tapped her wine glass against the table, finished it, and looked at him again.

“You ever think about me?” she asked. “Even once, while I was still with him?”

“Emily,” he warned, voice low.

She got up and crossed the room slowly, her bare legs peeking out with every step. “Because I thought about you. A lot. Thought about how your eyes lingered, how you looked at me when Josh didn’t. I felt it.”

“I’m your ex’s father.”

“And I’m not his anything anymore,” she said, standing in front of him, close enough to feel the heat between them. “So I’ll ask again… did you ever think about me?”

Tom met her gaze. “Every damn day.”

That was all she needed.

She leaned in, kissed him like she’d rehearsed it in her mind a hundred times.

When he didn’t pull away, she deepened it, hands sliding under his shirt. His body responded before his guilt had a chance to speak.

He lifted her onto his lap, and she straddled him eagerly, grinding her hips into his growing erection. Her breath hitched as he gripped her ass beneath the hoodie.

“No panties?” he asked.

She bit her lip. “Didn’t want to waste time.”

He pulled the hoodie up, revealing her body—soft, glowing in the warm light.

Her nipples were already hard, her chest rising fast.

He leaned forward and kissed her breast, tongue circling her nipple as she gasped, fingers curling into his hair.

“I’ve wanted this since the first dinner you invited me to,” she whispered. “You sat across the table, and I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I shouldn’t be doing this either,” she said, “but I am.”

He picked her up without warning and laid her back on the couch. Her legs opened instinctively. He kissed her inner thighs, her scent pulling him in. Then his tongue met her folds, and she cried out.

“Fuck—Tom—oh god—”

He took his time, licking, teasing, sucking her clit with focused intent until she was trembling and panting.

When he stood and pulled his shorts down, her eyes widened at the sight of his cock.

“Jesus Christ,” she breathed, then reached for it, stroking him with both hands. “You’re so much more than I imagined.”

He grunted, jaw clenched, as she teased the tip with her tongue. “You imagined this?”

“Too many nights to count.”

She opened her mouth and took him in, eyes locked on his. Her lips wrapped around his shaft, slow and wet. He groaned, placing a hand on the back of her head, guiding her rhythm.

She pulled off with a pop. “I want you inside me. Now.”

He didn’t hesitate.

He lined up and pushed into her slowly. She gasped as he filled her, legs locking around his waist.

“Fuck me,” she whispered. “I want you to make me forget him.”

He thrust deep and slow, watching her arch her back, hands gripping the armrest. Her pussy clenched around him, so warm, so tight it was almost painful to hold back.

“Harder,” she begged. “Don’t be gentle.”

He slammed into her, rough and urgent. The couch creaked, her cries grew louder, his balls slapped against her ass with every thrust.

“You’re mine tonight,” he growled.

“Yes,” she moaned. “All yours. God, I needed this…”

He flipped her over, pulled her up on all fours. The hoodie was bunched around her shoulders now, and he took a moment to admire the curve of her back, the arch of her ass.

Then he pushed back into her, harder this time.

She screamed into the cushions, knuckles white as he gripped her hips and pounded into her from behind. Wetness coated his shaft, her juices running down her thighs.

“I’ve never been fucked like this,” she choked out. “You’re so deep—fuck, I’m gonna—”

Her body clenched, back arching as she came hard, legs shaking.

He flipped her again, straddled her chest. “You said you wanted it all.”

She opened her mouth obediently.

He stroked himself fast, aiming for her lips, her face. “Fuck, Emily—take it—”

His cock pulsed and he came across her face, thick spurts landing on her cheeks, mouth, and chin. She moaned and licked her lips, eyes dazed with satisfaction.

They were still catching their breath when it happened.

The door creaked open.

“Dad?”

Tom froze.

Emily's eyes widened.

Josh’s voice cut the silence like a blade. “Dad, my charger—”

And then he appeared.

He saw everything. The couch. The mess. His naked father hovering over his ex-girlfriend, her mouth still wet with cum.

His eyes widened.

Emily covered herself, suddenly modest.

Tom stood, stepping in front of her. “Josh—”

Josh looked at him with a face drained of everything.

“No,” he said. “No fucking way.”

“Son—”

But Josh was already turning, already backing out. The door slammed hard enough to rattle the windows.

Emily sat up, still panting, wiping her face.

Tom looked down at her, guilt crashing into his chest like a hammer.

“I should go,” she whispered.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, you probably should.”

She got dressed quietly. No tears. No excuses. Just silence.

At the door, she paused.

“I don’t regret it,” she said. “Even if it broke everything.”

And then she was gone.