Chapter 1 – Arrival & First Night Tease

• I barely got my suitcase through the door before the humidity hit. The house was a sauna—whole circuit fried, no AC anywhere except the master bedroom. Mom rushed out in her trucker flannel, hair messy, smelling like road dust.
• “Welcome home, baby girl. Breaker panel's dead. Electrician says three days. Your room's gonna be hell without AC. You and Daddy share the master bed tonight, okay? You two are close anyway.”
• She said it like it was nothing. My stomach flipped. Share a bed with him? Three nights? I swallowed hard, forced a nod. “Sure, Mom. No problem.”
• She ruffled my hair, grabbed her paperwork. “I'll be on the couch downstairs sorting logs. Love you. Night!”
• The door clicked. Footsteps faded. Silence.
• Just me and him.
• I showered quick, slipped into my thinnest camisole and tiny sleep shorts. Nipples already tight against the cotton from nerves and heat. I told myself it was just the humidity.
• Daddy was already in the master bed, propped against the headboard in gray boxer briefs, scrolling his phone. Broad chest, sweat-glistened abs, arms that used to carry me now resting loose. He looked up with that warm smile. “Come on up, sweetheart. Let's sleep.”
• I slid under the covers, killed the lamp. We lay back-to-back, careful space between us. But his breathing was loud, close. His scent—soap, sweat, something deeper—wrapped around me. Skin prickled. Every shift rustled the sheets, reminding me how close he was.
• I couldn't sleep. Mind racing. One bed. Three nights. Him inches away. Heat pooled low thinking about last Christmas hug—his hardness brushing me, gone too fast. I'd been wet ever since, stealing his shirts, whispering “Daddy” while my fingers curled inside until I shook.
• Around one a.m. a sound yanked me awake.
• Water running. Low, steady. From the master bathroom.
• Then—beneath the spray—choked breaths. Wet, rhythmic. Skin on skin.
• Heart slamming, I crept to the door. Cracked open. Steam curling out. Moonlight cutting fog.
• I pressed my eye to the gap.
• Daddy under cool shower, water streaming down his chest. Shorts shoved down. One hand wrapped around his thick cock, stroking slow.
• Other hand—my panties. Pale pink cotton I'd changed out of that afternoon, still damp from sweat. He held them to his face, inhaled deep, eyes closed like tasting something holy. Wrapped the fabric around his shaft, stroking through it, material sliding slick over the head.
• “…Lily… baby girl… your scent… fuck, so sweet…”
• Voice wrecked, reverent.
• He pressed the crotch right against the tip, rubbing circles, hips bucking gently. “All mine… gonna fill these again… soon… you have no idea how much I need you…”
• Knees buckled. Heat flooded between my legs, thighs slick. Bit my lip hard.
• How long had he been doing this? Saving my panties, breathing me in, using them? Should've horrified me. Instead my clit throbbed, walls clenched empty.
• Hand sped up. Thumb smeared wet spot on fabric. Hips jerked. “Lily… shit… so perfect… Daddy's gonna come thinking of you…”
• Fingers dove under shorts, shoved panties aside, plunged deep. Two, three. Matching his rhythm. Wet sounds blended with his and shower. Stared at thick shaft wrapped in my panties, veins bulging, tip glistening through cotton. Imagined it stretching me against the sink, him behind, one hand in hair, other pressing my panties to my face while he slammed in and growled my name.
• Other hand yanked camisole up, pinched nipple stinging sweet. Body trembling, bit back whimpers.
• He was close. Breath ragged. “Lily… fuck… coming… all for you, baby—”
• Back arched, thick ropes spilled into fabric, soaking it dark, low groan vibrating through steam.
• Pleasure almost crashed over me.
• Fingers frantic, thumb grinding clit until sparks burst. Walls clenched hard, teetering edge.
• But I couldn't let go. Ache screamed for him, not this. Yanked hand free, gasping, slick fingers trembling. Denied release left me shaking, thighs slick, chest heaving.
• Daddy panted, shut off shower, folded ruined panties, tucked into pocket like secret, wiped tile slow and careful. Like stroking my skin.
• I stumbled back to bed, shut door softly, collapsed face-down on our mattress.
• Hand still coated in my wetness, fire curdled into deep, gnawing emptiness. Chest tight, aching.
• I wanted him. Not fingers. Not alone. Wanted that cock slick from my scent. Pushing inside. Filling me. Fucking me until I cried his name, begged, broke apart.
• But he was Daddy.
• This bed was ours starting tonight.
• I buried my face in the pillow, pussy throbbing like its own heartbeat.
• No way I was sleeping.