The Man She Needed Him to Be

But everything got twisted around. She even knew exactly when it happened. It was during the phone call when Trish begged him to get her a pizza she would never eat. She wasn't sure why, but the three magic words just sort of fell out of her mouth, and as soon as she heard herself say them, her body grew tingly all over and she felt like she was going to explode with happiness. The more she tried to tell herself that she was wrong, that this couldn't be happening, the stronger the feelings took hold, until she couldn't deny it any longer. She realized that it was true - she did love him.

Then, James came over and she whispered it to him again, and she could see it in his eyes - he loved her too, in the same way - and the convolution of a thousand different emotions was euphoric, practically orgasmic. She desperately wanted him to stay, to consummate their mutual love, but she had to send him home. She needed time to try and make sense out of everything that was happening. He was her father, at least biologically. It was one thing to screw him - a couple of her friends had confessed to similar misbehaviors - but she wasn't supposed to fall in love with him. Now that she had, everything just seemed to fall into place. She didn't know how, but she had to figure out a way to make this work.

Most important, though, was that it had to seem like his idea. He still had to jump willingly - eagerly - into that net, and she was more certain than ever that soon they would be together, and it would be wonderful.

There were just a couple of loose ends.

"Erica?" Trish said into the phone.

"Trish, sweetie! How are you? I haven't heard from you in - God, it's been nearly a year! What have you been up to, sweetie?"

"Not much. Mostly getting pregnant," Trish told her.

"What? No! Omigod, you're serious, aren't you sweetie?"

They talked about the due date, and Trish's freakish behavior, and how Erica really wanted one, too.

"Who's your baby-daddy?" Erica queried expectantly.

"Nobody you'd know. He was just a donor. How about you? Been squeezing anybody special?"

There was a pause. "There's this one guy," Erica finally said cautiously. "He's older, you know, middle-aged. He's one of the really good ones. You know, the kind that knows what a woman wants, and he's not selfish at all. Sort of like Roger - you remember him, right? Except this guy's even better. He makes sure a girl gets what she needs before he gets his, you know?"

"That's great, Erica!" Trish said with a big grin. She couldn't wait to get hers. "I'm so happy for you. Is he married?"

"No!" Erica replied. "That's the good part, you know? We don't have to sneak around, and he's not looking for a commitment, either, so we can enjoy each other, you know, without any weird stuff getting in the way."

"That sounds perfect for you, Erica. Are you seeing him a lot?" Trish asked.

"A few times a week, you know. We're going out tonight."

"Really?" Trish grinned again. That was exactly what she was fishing for. "When do I get to meet this superman? Do you think he'd be interested in a three-way like we did with Roger?"

Erica stammered evasively, "Um, I don't - I don't know, Trish. He stays pretty busy, you know. I don't think he'd be interested in a three..."

"Sure he would, Erica," Trish interrupted. "Every guy wants to see two girls go at it. And you're the absolute best at that, Erica." She didn't mind lying to that worthless, daddy-stealing slut.

"Yeah, thanks, Trish. That's sweet. But not this guy, you know? He's sorta' private."

"Too bad. It would have been fun. Maybe I'll find myself an older guy, too. Anything particular your guy likes to do?"

Trish listened carefully, pushing the decadent images of Erica and her father out of her mind and replacing them with her own little variations, particularly the things that Erica said that he wanted but she would never do, like ass-play. Trish promised to call her friend for lunch and talk about baby stuff, but she was sure that would never happen. That is, unless James suggested he might be interested in a three-way for his birthday.

## ~~~~~~~~~ ##

James was dressed casually for the evening. He was practicing lines that he could use to tell Erica that things were over. He'd done this dozens of times, and it rarely ended well. Timing was essential to minimize the pain, especially for the woman. He preferred to get it over with early, and that was usually the end of it. She would storm off, maybe throwing her drink at him first, and go find another lover that very night to help put him behind her.

His cell phone rang. It was Trish.

"James?" Her voice was weak.

"Trish, are you okay?" he asked.

"No, Daddy. Morning sickness, and I'm out of medicine. I can't stop - urp - long enough to go to the drug store. Can you go for me? Please, Daddy?" She sounded so pitiful and helpless, and even though he knew how she felt about his role in her life, the way she said 'Daddy' was irresistible.

"Sure, honey. I'm on the way now. Just tell me what you need."

While he drove, he called Erica.

"I'm sorry, darling, but I'm going to have to cancel for tonight. I have a sick friend that needs my attention," he told her.

"A 'sick friend'. Yeah, right." Her tone was sarcastic.

"I'm serious, darling. I was really looking forward to seeing you tonight." He hated to deceive her like that, but it really was for the best. This was only going to make it harder when he really broke it off with her.

"That's too bad, James. Just today, I was talking with a friend of mine about maybe having her join us. You know, a three-way?"

James had been in a few of those, enough to know that it took special people to make that sort of thing work: unselfish people, sensitive and loving people. Not someone like Erica. But maybe someone like Trish... Could he allow himself to share her? He quickly decided that, yes, if it would make her happy.

"Wow, darling. That sounds exciting," he lied again. "I wish we could talk about it tonight, but this is really important."

"Yeah, whatever. Well, call me when you can spare me some time, you know, and I'll see if I can fit you in," she said snidely.

"I promise I'll call you tomorrow, Erica. I'm at the drugstore now picking up some medicine. Be sweet, darling, and I'll make it up to you."

"Hey, how about a three-way with another guy?" she suggested, plying her small advantage.

He groaned inwardly. "Sure, darling. That might be fun. I have to go now. We'll discuss it over a nice dinner."

When he got to Trish's, he knocked twice and tried the door - it was unlocked again. He really needed to talk to her about that.

He followed the sound of her retching, and found his daughter in a terry nightgown, bent over the toilet. He dampened a washcloth and laid it over her nape, then fetched a spoon and gave her a dose of the minty medicine. She curled up on the cold tile floor, her head on his lap, and James stroked her stringy hair until she fell asleep. He managed to lift her into his arms and carry her to bed, noticing that she apparently wore nothing underneath the robe. He kicked off his shoes and removed his jacket and tie, and lay down beside her.

She was such a lovely and sexy woman, he thought, and he knew that he was falling in love with her. She said that she loved him, and he believed her. She was practically everything he wanted in a woman, including an abundant libido and a child on the way. It was all so perfect, yet one thing stood in their way. Only one thing...

James pulled his phone from his jacket and went to the kitchen to place a few calls. It took nearly three hours to work out the deal. Leaving the bedside lamp on, he lay down next to Trish and fell asleep, smiling.

## ~~~~~~~~~ ##

"James?" Trish whispered, shaking him gently. "James, wake up."

"Huh?" he rose out of a confused slumber in a strange room, trying to place where he was and how he got there.

"James. I'm hungry. Baby wants some ice cream."

"Ice cream," he repeated sleepily.

She shook him again. "James!" she whispered more urgently.

"Wh-what?" he jumped up. "What's the matter, Trish?" he asked, concerned. "Are you sick?"

"No. I'm hungry. Baby wants some mint chocolate chip ice cream."

James shook the cobwebs from his head. "Oh. Okay. Go pack a suitcase."

"What?" Trish said. "No. I want ice cream. Not a suitcase."

He hooked a finger under her chin. "Do you trust me, Trish?" he asked.

She didn't hesitate. "Yes." She knew that there was no one in this world that she had ever trusted more.

"Good. Here's the deal, Trish. We're not doing this running back and forth across town any more. You're going to pack a suitcase with whatever you need until the weekend, and you're moving in with me. We'll pick up some ice cream on the way, and come back for the rest of your stuff on Saturday."

Trish grinned. "Okay." This was easier than she had thought it would be.

She started to get up, but he grabbed her shoulder and pushed her back down.

James said. "Tomorrow, you're going to call in sick, Trish. You have two important things to take care of. First, you're going to start searching for a house somewhere near Richmond, Virginia."

"What? What the hell are you talking about, James?" she demanded. "That's all the way on the east coast, and..."

He pressed a finger to her lips. "That brings us to item number two on your list of important things to do tomorrow." He lifted her chin and kissed her. She tensed and squeaked, wide-eyed - for the first time, James had surprised her - and then her body unwound as she surrendered. Her mouth opened, and their tongues found each other. He came over her and she yielded, falling back onto the mattress, her arms encircling his neck. His hand found the opening of her robe and slipped inside, a single finger tracing the contours of each breast, circling the nipples. Trish whimpered.

James rose up on his elbows, gazing down upon the luscious woman laid out underneath him. "Item number two is for Miss Patricia to fuck her doddering old father until he can't stand up. Isn't that what she wants?"

That put a wide grin on her face. She nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes, I thought so," he said. "We can pack your things now, go pick up ice cream, and kick off item number two at my house, or we can get a head start right now..."

She answered by pulling him back on top of herself and kissing him passionately. James spread the wings of her robe and squeezed a heavy bosom in each hand. Trish moaned, wrapping a thick thigh around his leg and rubbing her cunt on his pants, grabbing frantically at his ass with one hand to pull herself against him.

He delighted in the velvet texture of her skin, the abundant fleshiness of her. There was nothing artificial about the lovely creature underneath him; she was a real woman with real curves, and real passion, the sort of woman who could keep a man happy for a long, long time. And James would do everything within his power to make sure that she was happy, too.

He caressed the broad, shallow valley of her waist, then across the roundness of her belly. She was not yet showing, but a real baby grew there, inside of her: his grandchild. He would also be a father to the child, a good father, better than he'd ever been for the mother, his lover, the wife of his heart.

His hand crept downward through the dense tangle of curls. Trish thrust her hips upward, silently begging for his touch. When his fingertip found the tightly stretched skin covering the delicate bump at the top of her crease, she gasped and arched above the bed. With feathery circles, he nuzzled her, watching the eyes roll back in her head, her fists alternately clenching empty air and grasping frantically at the sheets. Lifting a thick brown nipple to his mouth, he licked and sucked, and nipped at it with his teeth as he steadily increased the pressure and the tempo of his finger. Between ragged breaths, she quietly and ardently prayed to him, "James! Oh, James. Yes, oh, God, I love you, James..." Slipping downward between her sticky folds, he began thrusting two fingers into the squelchy wetness of her pussy while the heel of his palm buffed her hyper-excited clit vigorously. She pulled his face down hard onto her teat and clawed desperately at the other breast herself. He opened wide, sucked hard and bit down on the tender mound, and in seconds her body locked up, and she drew in her breath as the world spun around her.

## ~~~~~~~~~ ##

Slowly, slowly, Trish drifted back to earth, gasping for air, her taut muscles losing their tension, one by one. Her lips curled upward in a satisfied smile. Wow. Was he really that good? Or had it just been so long? Or was it because of who he was, the decadence of what they were doing? Or, was it the way she felt about him, not like any other man before? Maybe it was all of that. It didn't matter. If she were to believe Erica, then she could look forward to many more just like that. She hooked her arms under his shoulders and pulled him on top of her, and they kissed, long and lovingly.

"I need you, James," she whispered. "In me."

"No, not yet."

She was incensed. "What!?"

He soothed her hair, and said calmly, "First, my love, I want to taste that sweet pussy that I've been dreaming..."

"Oh, hell no, you're not!" Trish raged, practically spitting at him. She jerked his head up by the dwindling silvery hair above his ears, growling menacingly, "Listen, James. I haven't had a man inside me since I found out I was pregnant. When we're finished here, I'll gladly take a shower and you can eat my cunt until I scream for mercy. Right now, you've got a fucking hormonal mess on your hands that could quickly turn homicidal if she doesn't get a good fucking in the next five minutes. So get that goddamn cock out right now, Daddy!" She fumbled for his belt.

James burst into laughter. Trish's anger quickly melted, and she began giggling at herself, too.

He sat up on his knees between her legs, quickly unbuttoning his shirt. He told her, "You don't have to, you know."

Trish worried with his recalcitrant zipper. "Don't have to what?" she snapped.

"Take a shower," he said, his voice smooth and deep. "I'll gladly eat your cunt until you scream any time, regardless of what - or who - is dripping out of it."

Trish froze, gaping up at him. Chill bumps arose on her skin as the implications rolled over her. Did he really mean...? Good God, what a man! He understood her needs, and he was leaving it open, her choice. Any urgency or anxieties drained out of her, and she smiled. The zipper acquiesced, and she slid the pants down his thighs.

She looked up askance, with a reproachful grin. "Commando? Really, Daddy?"

It was funny how good it felt to call him by that name now. She still didn't think of him as her father, but he was definitely her 'daddy'.

He seemed abashed. "When you called, I was on my way to a date," he explained.

Trish apologized without revealing any clue of what she knew, or what she'd done to sabotage his evening. It had taken only one tablespoon of spaghetti sauce to get her going. It had been rough, but ultimately worth it.

"That's okay," he said with a shrug. "I was going to tell her it was over, anyway. There's someone far more important in my life."

The love in his eyes made Trish's heart do little flips. She almost felt sorry for Erica. Almost.

Trish took his rigid cock in her hand and tugged softly at the circumcised foreskin. It was nice, hot and hard, and fatter than her dildo in the middle. She liked the asymmetry, the sinewy roughness, the way it naturally bent to the left, and especially that lovely, bulging blue vein that curved underneath from one side to the other. His cock twitched involuntarily, as hungry for her as she was for him. Unable to resist a small taste, she pulled herself up and gently forced the broad crown through the modest resistance of her moist, puckered lips, then she flicked her tongue at the glans, her fingers gently coddling his balls. She adored those balls, the source of her existence. She promised herself that they would be milked regularly. They both moaned, James with obvious pleasure, and Trish, imagining the sense of fulfillment she always received, the satisfaction that would come when he finally released his thick, salty joy into her mouth.

She rested back on the pillows, aiming his cock down toward herself. "Now, James," she whispered, her half-lidded deep blue eyes beckoning him seductively.

He loomed over her like a barrel-chested statue, staring at her from his lofty stance. She was growing impatient again when he said, "I haven't made love with a pregnant woman in over twenty five years. She was almost as beautiful as you are, Trish." He fell over her, resting on his elbows. With a brief, touching kiss, he added, "But you aren't her, are you?"

"No, James. I'm not. I promise I will never be like her."

He twirled a lock of her hair on his finger. "Trish, I want you to know that, whatever happens between us, I will always love you unconditionally, and I want only the best for you."

They kissed deeply, and she felt him prodding at her entrance. Before she could reach down to adjust him, she gasped to feel that lovely head wedge itself between her slick labia, as if they were made for each other. He nudged in a little further, the rim of his cockhead scraping each nerve in her pussy. She shuddered.

"You want it hard." He wasn't asking her. His cock buried itself deeper.

"Yes."

"You like it rough and nasty."

"Yes," she croaked as James lowered some of his weight to pin her to the mattress. Did he somehow know how much she relished that?

He clenched a handful of her hair, slowly pulled on it, cocking her head back. He pushed in a little further. She whimpered.

"You'll never be like her, because you can't live without it. Isn't that right, Patricia?"

"Yes. Yes, Daddy." The masterful way he spoke to her made her feel small and helpless. It was divine!

"My little girl is a slut, isn't she?" he sneered, and rammed his cock all the way in, driving the air from her lungs. He jerked on her hair and she shrieked. "Aren't you, Patricia? Say it!"

"Yes!" she yelled, "I'm a fucking slut, Daddy!"

He withdrew slowly and crashed their pelvises together again, and she squealed. Her knees rose into the air.

As he withdrew again, he lashed out venomously, "That's why you don't know who the father of your baby is, you fucking little whore."

Her eyes brimming with tears, she stared up forlornly, and in a little girl voice, she confessed with a penitent, "Yes, Daddy."

James loosened his grip on her hair, his fingertips running across her scalp comfortingly. "That's okay, honey," he said sweetly. "I love you, Trish. You're Daddy's whore now, aren't you?"

She nodded, a proud little smile on her lips. "I love you, too, James. I'm all yours, any way, any time," she whispered. "Please, Daddy - fuck your nasty little girl like she needs it."

His eyes narrowed, the hardness returning to his face. His fingers wrapped themselves tighter in her hair, pulling harder, tugging at the roots. She steeled herself, but the power of his thrust drove her into the headboard. He didn't wait; he lunged again, just as ferociously, and she pressed her hands flat against the hard wood to keep herself from banging into it again. Again and again, his powerful assaults shook her body, his pubic bone swinging like a wrecking ball against her bottom, that wonderful cock reaming her pussy thoroughly.

Delicious, tingling tendrils began spreading from deep in her belly to her titties, down through her bowels, and spiraling upward around her spine. Sonofabitch! Only two lovers had ever made her come just by fucking her. He wrapped his arm around her raised leg, forcing her knee almost to her chest. Then he caught her boob in his mighty hand, clenching and kneading it ruthlessly, while with the same cruel thumb and forefinger he seized the erect nipple and pinched with all his strength, twisting it to its limits.