Under One Roof

By: Debbie Gordon



He came around wearing the duster and he grabbed me by the collar of his own shirt to pull me up onto my feet. “Please don’t tell my parents. I beg of you and I will do anything.” His alabaster skin was right there and I desperately wanted to touch it.

“Normally, I would use that opening and I would ask exactly what you would want to do to make this go away. I don’t think I have to and I see that there is an attraction that goes both ways. I’m just not ready to do anything and I’m sorry, but I think it best that you leave.” He swallowed hard and I could see his upper lip quivering to the fact that he wanted more than just a passing glance.

“I know that you still feel something for your wife, but she would want you to move on. I’m not saying that we’re going to fall in love and live happily ever after, because I don’t believe in fairy tales anymore. I’m sure that you thought you found the one and maybe you did, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t find another.” I was trying my best to get him to see that life was not over. He didn’t have to wallow in self-pity and live in the memory of his dead wife.

“You don’t understand and it’s only been a year and I think that she would definitely despise you for putting your hands on me.” I wasn’t the one that was putting their hands on anybody. He was doing it to me. “Believe me, I would be very interested to be with you, but you are my best friend’s daughter. This was not his intention when he sent you over here and I don’t think that he would take it too kindly if I were to sleep with you.” In put my hand on his cheek and I moved my fingers across the surface, only to feel the prominent bulge of his member pressing up against my body.

“You may be saying it here…” I touched his mouth “… but you definitely not saying it here.” I think he was half expecting me to touch his heart, but I went directly to the source. I grabbed his rising problem and I gave it a squeeze to let him know that he didn’t have to rely on his own hand anymore. “Nobody needs to know and this can be between the two of us.” I could smell liquor on his breath and that liquid kind of encouragement was exactly what he needed to take that last final step.

“I still don’t know…” I didn’t allow him to speak any further and I kissed him by pulling him down into the loving embrace with my tongue sliding effortlessly into his mouth. At first he struggled, but it wasn’t very hard. This continued for some time and I thought for sure that we had stopped time altogether.

“Daddy, are you home?” He saw how undressed I was, so he backed away from me and closed the door behind him. I felt a little exposed sitting there in nothing, but his shirt and his cowboy hat. “I want a drink of water.” I saw the shadow through the glass of the both of them and he was now leaning down to pick him up into his arms. “I want Camille to be my new mommy.” Out of the mouths of babes. “She’s, so nice and we need a woman in our lives.”

“I think that we’re doing just fine on our own, Jamie. Let’s get you that drink of water and back into bed.” I sat there staring at that same picture and committing it to memory, so that I could use it to drive my fantasies into a frenzy.

He wasn’t gone more than 5 minutes, until he returned and he was swaying on his feet with his eyes glazed over. “I have to sit down, or I’m going to fall down. That last kamikaze was a doozy. I had no idea that my client would want to go a few rounds at a bar. I really don’t know how many shots I had, but it was enough to choke a horse. Thankfully, I was able to get him to sign on the dotted line for his rights to the oil on his property.” I’d heard through my father that he was very much into Texas Tea. There’s no doubt that there was money to be made with oil and he had found a way to capitalize on that himself.

He went into the living room and he sat down and then his head slumped back and over the top of that dark green chair.





Chapter 3


The door was open and I casually made my way over to see that he was deep in sleep. I was tiptoeing past him and was going to go upstairs and retrieve my clothes and go back home, when I got a delicious idea that I could not pass up. He had at least taken off his duster and the bolo tie was mysteriously absent. It left him in a blue shirt and a black pair of pants with a black belt and huge steer belt buckle to match.

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