Her head is resting in my lap, heavy and snuggled in towards my body. I can feel her every breath, deep and satisfying, and unconsciously tries to sync mine to hers. Each rise of her body presses her against my hand, resting on her long toned legs. My fingers trace the outline of her face, from behind her ears, along the neck and over her lips. She looks up and smiles at me — that mesmerizing smile.
Sitting here, naked, spent after sex. I think to myself; this is not how things work; this cannot be real. At forty plus, I have given up on fantasies and accepted that some things would be just that, fantasies, nothing more. You go about your day, do what you have always done — day after day.
But then this happened. Totally out of nowhere, I had not been looking for it, never had. What a cliché. Midlife crisis to the letter. It could be a scene out of any soap opera on tv.
I'm forty, and an older man in her eyes. I've been married for almost fifteen years. It's not an unhappy marriage, but we have grown apart since the kids got older. I'm semi-successful at work, own my own company. But it's all a daily grind. But accepting it, 'this is what life is,' kind of attitude. She is eighteen and in the prime of her life. But she found me.
I did not kid myself; she was not looking for me. She was looking for anyone willing to trade naughty videos for cash. It all started with a small, 'Hi there,' from her, on a kink forum, we both had visited. My first reaction was that this was just a bluff, maybe a scam. Or spam offering mail-orders girlfriends from Russia or stealing credit card information or something.
If I believed in destiny or had faith, I might have been able to explain why I responded to that innocent message that day. I should know better. I have thought about this a hundred times, what triggered me that day to write back. There is no answer to it, so maybe destiny is a thing. Or it might have been those eyes in her profile picture.
But we ended up here. It had all happened so fast. Some messages, then we moved on to Snapchat. Pictures traded. Gifts, sure. She wants a Daddy after all, but she wants more than the presents. She wants someone to care about her. And then before either one of us could explain it, there was a relationship: Trust, and the need for each other.
Light drops of rain are falling on the glass roof of the car, the sound soothing. Outside, the leaves are red and yellow; fall is here. We have parked on a small sidetrack used for forest machines and hunters. The small gravel road we drove in on is muddy, and the strip of grass in the middle of the road is starting to fall over.
She is not sleeping, just resting against me. I like this a lot — these moments when time stops and nothing else exists. Only the two of us, phones turned off, it's our small bubble of serenity, our secret.
I know this will last, not this moment, and not in the long run either. But that is okay, I take what I get, and this, being here with my beautiful Baby girl, I know I will cherish these moments for the rest of my life.
I stroke her hair and leans in towards her, kiss her soft silky cheek, her lips. I hug her, my hands firm on her body. Her eyes open, her lips part, and we kiss softly, the taste of sex still lingering. Her eyes sparkle like diamonds, in the light from the glass roof, she smiles, grabs my hand in hers and whispers.
"What are you thinking about, Daddy?"
"I want to take you away, Baby; I want you to come with me somewhere, a hotel someplace far enough from here. Will you come with me?"
"Mmm, yes, please," she murmurs.
---- A few days in Kyiv ----
It’s early morning, cold and dark like all winter mornings in Scandinavia when I finally pick her up for our first real-time together. We have met a lot of times, but only for a couple of hours each time. We have hidden out in the woods, in the backseat of my car, gone for short walks, had breakfast or a simple lunch, but never in public. But this is something else; we will have almost two days together. And what I look forward to the most, a whole night, and waking up with her next to me.
She stands at the usual place, where I have picked her up every time. Not far from where she lives, but far enough, so hopefully no one who knows her can see. Her pink jacket stands out in the darkness — high boots over tight jeans.
She wears the type of clothes that only looks good when you are young and have the body to back it up. She is simply amazing. Her body is toned and firm, legs that will blow your mind, and a figure that you only see when looking in magazines or tv. Of course, she doesn’t think so, but trust me on this, never in my wildest dreams did I think my hands would ever touch and caress this type of girl.
Long unruly hair is clinging to her face as the morning wind is up. I see her before she sees me; my whole world shifts when I'm thrown into another dimension. It happens every time.
And every time, when I park my car next to her, my subconscious says, 'are you stupid, why would she ever open the door and get in here with you.' But somehow, she does.
She looks around so that no one she knows is watching her, and then she swiftly opens the door and sits down in the passenger seat. A rush of cold air enters the car, but I hardly notice. The scent of her perfume hits me like a drug. She turns to me, almost shyly, but with a playful smile on her lips.
"Hello, Daddy," she says when my hand reaches for hers.
I want to kiss her there. I want to grab her in my arms, but that is too risky. So instead, I squeeze her hand and put the car in to drive, and we pull off the curb, heading for the airport.
I travel quite a lot in my work, at least in periods. Lots and lots of driving to meetings, but also trips to Ukraine, Spain and so on. Officially this one of those trips. I need to visit a subcontractor in Kyiv, Ukraine. But the meetings got canceled, but I didn’t tell anyone that. Instead, I booked one more ticket for her, my sweet Baby girl.
Flying out from her hometown is somewhat of a risk, I guess. But it’s early, and we agreed not to be obvious about traveling together until we change flights in Germany. So, for the first leg out, we act as we don’t know each other. We have seats next to each other. She is deep into a book, headphones in when I sit down in the place next to her.
It takes all my willpower not to reach out and touch her. But I look, no, I stare at her. I mean, how can I not? I'm seated to this sexy teen on a morning flight. Dressed in a tight top, her nipples poking the fabric. It’s one of the things that happens when you are past forty; you don’t care anymore about staring.
After the horrible coffee has been served, watered down and bitter as an old cashier at a grocery store, I realize that with the tables folded down, in such a small aircraft, everything that happens under the tables, are as invisible as the darkness outside the plane. My hand reaches for hers, and I can see the corners of her lips, turning into a smile as she keeps reading. She is focused, actually reading. My mind, on the other hand, cannot find the peace to pick up my book. It races with ideas of what we can do when we arrive, or what I want to do with her tonight.
I let go of her hand and trace the inseam of her jeans over her thighs. I love modern jeans, soft, stretchy material, not those rock-hard, feel nothing jeans from last millennia. My fingers reach up to her crotch, and she pushes my hand away. I smile to myself and think, 'okay, Baby, for now, you can do that, but when we arrive, you will do as I please.'
I sit back and close my eyes and think about her. She is not your average teenage girl. She is unique in every way. Cuddly and sweet as a princess sometimes. Other times kinky as you wouldn’t believe. 'Afraid of nothing, try everything once' mentality. I often wonder if she has real Daddy issues, but I think not.
It's only her kink, her Daddy, someone who will care for her. She has a will to explore, a will to feel new things. And like me, escape the world. This is our secret, the taboo of age-play, kinky sex, or BDSM.
For me, it has just been fantasies for the last twenty years. So, all this, it’s like I am reborn, risen again like a phoenix from the ashes. I have not felt this alive for ages. Not sure I have felt anything this vivid as I do with her. Just looking at her makes me feel like a high school kid falling in love for the first time or looking in a porno magazine hidden away under the covers at night. Exiting, scary even.
We land in the same weather we left. Grey clouds cover the sky in Hamburg. We are just changing flights, only an hour of waiting. But this hour is the first hour in public we have ever spent together. But even here, I find myself looking over my shoulder when we move across the terminal. Not holding hands, we are just walking next to each other. It’s too early for a drink.
I want one, not that I am a heavy drinker, just something to calm down my nerves. But we settle for just a coffee and a tea for her at a Starbucks. We could be anybody; she could be my intern coming with on a business trip. Or a relative, anything that is normal. But in my head, everyone knows.
The second leg of the trip is an old run-down aircraft from Aeroflot, Russia’s finest, to Kyiv. Capital of Ukraine. It’s a horrible flight. But I find myself finally relaxing. Surrounded by people I will never see again. With virtually no risk of anyone we know seeing us, I can drop my guard.
Next to us on our row is an old lady, asleep before we even take off. I turn myself towards my Baby Girl, again reading her book, something she has to read for school. I close it in her hands, take it from her and put it in the seat pocket in front of us. I take her head in my hands, lean in, and kiss her, not a quick kiss, but one I have been waiting for since the first time we met.
With our faces close, I whisper to her, "From here on, until we land back home again, you are totally and completely mine. I will do with you as I please, Baby. You will give yourself to me in any way I want. If I tell you to do something, you will obey. If this is what you want, nod now, and kiss me."
For a few seconds, she looks into my eyes. It feels like an eternity for me, with my heart hammering so hard in my chest that I'm sure it will wake the old lady.
I cannot read her, can’t grasp what thoughts are in her mind. She knows this, and I think she is enjoying this moment, the moment where she chooses to strip off her metal hard, tough as nails shell – and give herself over to me.
Finally, I see the shift in her eyes, a sparkle of mischief, and the smile that could wake me from the dead. She leans towards me, nods her head and kisses me, her tongue touching mine when her lips part. It’s like a superpower rushes through me, I feel things I never have before. I feel free, and on top of the world.
I don’t like Kyiv. It’s a city with insane luxury for the rich, for next to nothing prices. But the majority of the town is poor and run down. Better than other parts of Ukraine for sure, but still. The cab is nice though; a big black Mercedes sent by the hotel to pick us up. When I booked the trip, I had booked the same Radisson hotel I usually use when I am here for work. But I changed that reservation when the meetings got canceled and had instead booked us a small suite at Fairmont Grand hotel, 'why not some luxury for us?' I thought.
The suite is not as small as I had imagined when I made the reservation. A sofa and daybed in the living room, nicely decorated, not a hint of old Russia. The bedroom is just what I had hoped it would be — a massive bed with bedposts reaching up to the ceiling. On the table by the sofa, an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.
A porter arrives with our suitcases, and I give him a tip. Thinking it might be a good idea to be on good terms with him if we might disturb anyone later, or wish to order up something special. You never know, but I had some ideas.
When the door closes behind him, I walk over to her. She's standing by the enormous windows overlooking the city, with the minarets of old churches sticking up next to modern skyscrapers. I pull her close, my arms wrapping her in my embrace, and we stand there for a while, none of us say anything, just looking out and enjoying the silence and anticipation of the rest of the day.
"Baby," I say, turning her around, so she faces me. "Now we will have some of that champagne they have set out for us, and I will let you in on my plans for the day. While I open this bottle, I want you to get out of all those clothes, and then lie down on the bed over there. I want to enjoy the best view there is while enjoying this champagne."
A smile dances across her face as she immediately walks towards the bedroom, pulling her tight top over her head and all that beautiful hair.
She is stunning. My eyes take all of her in, where she lay naked on the bed as I come back to the bedroom, two glasses for us in my hand. Her skin so pure and youthful, soft over that tight muscled figure. Her breast is firm and pointy; only teenagers can have such amazing breasts. I soak it all in, trying to memorize it all, store it away so I can remember this moment forever.
I sit down next to her and hand her a glass. I want to reach out and caress her, but I pace myself. Not yet. Take it slow. Build it up, for a later crescendo.
"Did you pack what I asked you, Baby?" I ask her while sipping my drink. It’s refreshing and sweet, and quite lovely.
"Yes, Daddy," she replies, looking me in the eyes.
"I am going to see what you have packed, Baby. You are going to stay here while I do that," I say to her in a harsh voice that surprises myself.
Her bag does not contain much, some clothes, a pair of shoes and some makeup and brushes. I am looking for a dress. I asked her to bring the cutest dress she owns.
I find a red one, short and tight. It’s sweet, and she probably looks gorgeous in it, and it would be perfect for tonight. I can image her ass in it, and her breasts.
But that is not what I am going to say. This is part of the game, part of our day.
"This?" I say and go back into the bedroom to her, looking stern. "This will not do! We will have to go shopping for you, Baby, and that is less time in bed today. And that makes me irritated, and when I get irritated, I need to punish you for that, Baby. Do you understand?" I smile to her, gulping my glass.
"Yes, Daddy," she replies, "Yes, I understand. What do you want me to do?"
"Right now nothing, Baby. In a while, but for now, we will be here, in bed, and you will tell me a fantasy you have had while masturbating."
We spend an hour like that on the bed. She tells me about fantasies she's had. Real or not, I will never know, but it’s fun, and they arouse me. Every once in a while, my hands cannot resist, and I caress her or kiss her. She is too beautiful not to; no man could resist that, however hard he tried.
When we arrived earlier, I pre-ordered a taxi to go to a big shopping mall on the outskirts of the city. I have been there before; it’s exclusive as hell. I have never bought anything there, except for some expensive Vodka that I will never drink, but you have to buy it anyway.
"Baby, we are going shopping for you now. You will use this dress while we do that," I say and hold up the tight red dress she had with her. "You will have nothing more than this and your boots, no underwear." I toss it at her.
I push the button for the elevator, and here, in a faraway city, we hold each other's hands, walking around. The elevator is empty. When It starts to move, I reach out and push the stop button. I turn to her and say.
"Baby, hold that railing there, and bend over and push your ass out as far as you can. Remember when I said I had to punish you for forcing us out of bed?."
It takes a few moments; she looks me in the eyes. She is deciding if to go ahead with this. Then turns from me, and does as she's told.
Her ass is so fine. Firm and soft at the same time. Perfectly rounded, begging to be spanked. I enjoy just looking at her for a while, lifting her dress over her butt cheeks. My fingers are tenderly touching her thighs, and then I smack her ass with my open palm. Her breath is deep as she sucks in air, and I can see in the elevator mirror how she bites her lip. I spank her again, the other cheek. I count it out loud for her, one, two, until I reach twenty.