“So where are we going to eat?”

I watched Brad try to find the right pair of shoes to go with his dark jeans and gray button down sweater outfit that would just be covered up by his jacket.

“Which ones should I wear?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I shook my head looking at the pile of shoes.

Even after all this time, he’s still really picky about his clothes.

“The black ones,” I let out a sigh as he picked up the pair. “Seriously, even after 15 years you still have to look perfect each time you go out.”

“Hey, you never know when you’ll meet the right girl,” Brad tied his shoes and looked up at me. “Not everyone can look as good as you with 0% effort.”

I looked down at my outfit. I was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans on with a cream Henley shirt. I had literally thrown this outfit together in under a minute, and then threw my hair in a bun. I guess he wasn't wrong when he said 0% effort.

“Well, you look fine,” I felt like I was talking to a girlfriend who was on the verge of changing her whole outfit.

“Penelope! Are you ready to go?” Brad yelled.

My eyes went straight to her white door with a large P on it. I waited patiently to see her door open wide. I didn’t get to see her all day yesterday, she left early for school then went straight to work. I really want to talk to her about what happened on Thursday, but I know she is just trying to avoid me until I leave.

But I won’t let her. I got a peek at her body and I want — no — I need it. It’s like giving a person a billion dollars and telling them they can only look at it.

Her bedroom door creaked open and Penelope stepped out wearing a fitted cream dress that flared out at the bottom. The dress covered her chest and it was only a few inches above her knee. Her bangs covered her forehead giving her already big doe eyes a bigger effect.

She looked like a doll I wanted to play with.

“You look good,” I shot a smirk toward her.

She looked at me with her dark eyes, giving me no hint of what she was thinking.

“Thanks,” she leaned toward her father.

“You two are matching,” Brad looked at my shirt and then back at Penelope’s dress. “Maybe I should change to match you guys.”

“Bradley,” Penelope gave her father a cold glare. “Where are we going to eat?”

“I think you know where,” he grinned.

Penelope let out a heavy sigh, “Really? Fine. But next time, I get to choose.”

Brad nodded to his daughter as he turned toward me and smiled, “Who’s driving?”

“I’ll drive,” I chuckled. I knew he wanted to go in the Porsche again.

Brad’s eyes lit up like a little kid as he threw on his jacket. We walked over to the car, until I heard a loud shout come from Brad.

“Shit! I forgot to attach the file to the email. I’ll be back in a minute!” he ran toward the house.

I opened the door for Penelope and watched her slide into the back seat. She looked up at me and thanked me softly.

It was like her little “hi” all over again. My heart melted when I heard it.

I settled into the car and adjusted my mirror to get a better look at her. Actually, I adjusted the mirror so I could only see her. Penelope looked around the car, feeling up the leather seats.

“Do you like it?” I asked her as she looked at the buttons on the screen and on the dashboard.

She hummed, “It’s pretty nice.”

I wrapped my arm around the passenger seat and twisted my body toward her, the leather creaking as my body shifted.

“So are we going to talk about what happened on Thursday?” I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“What are you talking about?” she looked at me as if she had no idea what I was talking about.

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Penny.”

“It’s Penelope, Cedric,” her tone held a hint of frustration.

I turned around and looked at Brad heading toward the car.

“It’s Daddy. Penelope.”

She buried her face into her jacket but I saw her cheeks blush. She tugged at the hem of her dress trying to pull it lower, but it wasn't going to help her. I’ve already seen what that dress was hiding.

“Okay,” Brad slid into his seat. “Let’s go.”

Brad handled the directions, and soon enough we pulled into the parking lot of an Italian Restaurant.

Brad and Penelope walked in front of me.

“Seriously, I hate you so much,” she grunted to her father.

“Come on, I never get to eat here. I only get the leftovers.”

“It’s my day off. I don’t get why we have to —”

“It’s my choice, no complaining,” Brad turned on his parental voice.

Penelope sighed furiously, and I smiled at her mini-tantrum.

I took a deep breath, taking in the cool air. Even though it was the end of February it was fairly warm and all of us were wearing our thinnest jackets.

I’ve been living in warm places for the past few years that it was nice to feel cold. I looked at Penelope who was sneaking a peek at me. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was clearly checking me out. Looking up and down at me, scanning my body. She looked into my eyes and then turned toward the entrance of the restaurant.

I loved how I couldn’t really tell what she was thinking. She is very mysterious.

“Hello, table for three,” Brad held up three fingers.

‘Right this way — oh hello, Mr. Rye. Hello, Darling!” the older hostess hugged Penelope. “You look so cute.”

“Thanks, Maggie,” she smiled warmly.

“Do you guys come here often?” I leaned over to Brad.

“No. I rarely come here, but this is Penelope’s second home. She works here.”

Oh, that makes sense. I was wondering why they were talking about leftovers.

“Right this way. We have a booth available for you in the back. I know how much Penelope loves it when it’s quiet,” Maggie brought is to the back of the restaurant where there was no one else.

Penelope and Brad sat on opposite sides of the booth. I decided to take a seat next to Penelope, but she looked at me with narrowed eyes the second I shifted closer to her. Almost as if she was asking, 'Why are you sitting next to me?'

I picked up the menu and looked over the options.

“Hey, Ced? Do you know what you want?” Brad asked.

I shook my head and looked over at Penelope. “What do you recommend, Penelope.”

“Depends on what you're in the mood for.”

She sat still with perfect posture, as if she was a princess. She kept her eyes on her dad, watching him while he was on his phone.

“What if I am in the mood for . . .” I looked down at Penelope, trying to undress her with my eyes. She was still facing forward towards her dad, but her eyes were on me. “. . . some pasta.”

“The 5 layer lasagna is good.”

I placed the menu down. “Then I will have that.”

There were a few seconds of silence, other than Brad’s phone buzzing a couple times.

“Hey, Dad,” she said sheepishly

“Hmmmm,” he answered.

“I wanted to let you know that Kendall is coming over next Thursday to study for midterms.”

Brad got off his phone and looked over at Penelope, who was fidgeting with the hem of her dress. Brad inhaled sharply and gave her a deep stare.

“What time?”

“Around 5, after class. Kendall will probably stay two or three hours.”

“Fine. But you know the rules,” Brad growled.

“Yes, Dad,” Penelope looked down at her dress, tugging at a loose string on the hem.

I kept quiet. I knew it wasn’t my place to say anything. I looked over at Brad who was still looking at Penelope. I would have never thought of him as the strict parent, especially since he was the crazy one in college.

Brad’s phone started ringing.

“Hey, Pen. If I don’t come back before the waiter comes over, can you order my usual?” he got louder as he walked away from the table, taking the work related call.

“He works a lot, doesn’t he?”

She nodded, picking at the corner of the laminated menu.

“You don’t talk much, do you?”

She looked at me with her doe eyes, “Only when I want to.”

“So, you don’t want to talk to me?” I said in a sweet voice giving her a grin.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. I scooted closer to her, but she just moved away.

“Okay. We don’t have to talk.”

Her secretive personality was intoxicating, and her innocence was fuckable. I had to have her. I moved a little closer, but this time she had nowhere to go. She was already up against the wall.

I moved my hand under the table and lightly touched her knee.

“What do you think you're doing?” her eyes were passionately angry.

“Teasing you,” I bit my lip.

I moved my hand up an inch, but she instantly stopped me.

“Why didn’t you leave?” she looked down at my hand as she held it tightly.

“What?” I chuckled.

“Why didn’t you leave when you saw me?” her voice was complex, with different types of emotions. Anger. Sadness. Passion. Confusion.

I moved my hand away from her thigh. “Isn’t that obvious. It’s because I liked what I saw,” I smirked at her.

She pushed her hair behind her ear as she blushed.

“You should have left. You weren’t supposed to be there. You weren’t supposed to see me —”

“Fucking a dildo,” I finished her sentence.

She skin was burning up as a hint of a smirk appeared on her face. She took a deep breath, keeping her calm. She was surprisingly good at not getting mad.

“Can we just forget about what you saw? Can you just forget about everything?”

No. I didn’t want to forget. Penelope has been the only thing on my mind and I can’t get her out.

“We’ll see,” I shrugged.

She pouted her plump bottom lip and lowered her sad eyes. I have a feeling this is what she does when she wants to get her way with Brad. But I wasn’t so easily taken away by her cuteness, no matter how sexy and cute she looked. I pride myself on my willpower.

“If you answer some questions. I’ll forget about it, but you have to answer them honestly.”

“What?” Penelope squinted at me.

“If you answer a few questions then I promise that I’ll forget what I saw. But you have to be honest.”

“How are you going to know if I’m telling the truth?” she raised her eyebrow.

“I don’t. But something tells me you’re going to tell me the truth if you want me to forget what I saw.”

She thought about it for a few seconds.

“You realize, none of these questions are going to be as embarrassing as how you felt when I saw you,” I wrapped my arm around her small body and leaned into her ear. “Although, you have nothing to be embarrassed about, baby girl.”

“You can’t do that,” she pushed me away in a flustered manner as she tried to control her heart rate. She didn’t know what she wanted, but I did. I knew she wanted me to, but she was just too stubborn to admit it.

“Fine. Ask your questions,” she sighed angrily.

I let out a chuckle, “Ok. Great.”

I looked down at her, in her perfect princess posture.

“Are you a virgin?”

She nodded.

“Why were you thinking about me?”

She shot a passionate stare at me, “I wasn’t thinking about you. I was thinking about the idea of you and what you looked like.”

“Fair enough. So, who’s better looking. Me, or the idea of me?”

She picked at the corner of the menu.

“My idea of you,” she was obviously lying.

“Strike one,” I chuckled.

She gasped and looked my way as if she was shocked to be caught.

But honestly, she was a horrible liar. She was good at controlling her emotions and pushing them away but it doesn't look like she could do the same with the truth. I don’t know why she agreed to this if she wasn’t going to be honest.

“The real you,” she corrected herself.

“You’re too late. You have two more strikes left,” I paused briefly, a smile on my face.

“Do you like it rough?”

She stopped picking at the menu and placed her hands in her lap as she looked me straight in my eyes and clearly spoke.

“No.”

“Strike two,” I smirked.

Even though I wasn’t 100% sure she was lying I knew that was a lie. I had seen her tugging at her nipple, giving it a little rough love as she moaned louder and louder. Her pussy fucking that dildo harder and harder as the closet door creaked with each thrust. She can’t deny that she doesn’t want it rough when her body was craving more.

Her eyes widened as she pressed her lips together. She looked worried now.

“I’ll ask again. Do you like it rough?” my voice was low and rough.

“Yes,” she confessed as she took a sip of water, trying to cool herself off.

“Hair pulled?”

“Yes,” she whispered softly as she placed the glass on the table.

“Nipples tugged?”

“Yes,” she looked up at me with her puppy dog eyes, begging me to stop asking her what she wants.

“Ass slapped?

Penelope didn’t say anything as she sat still looking into my eyes. I moved my hands up her arm slowly reaching her soft neck. I touched her throat gently and clenched my jaw, which immediately made Penelope whimper.

“Choked?” I gripped my hand around her throat gently, barely even touching her skin.

“Yes!” she got a little too excited. “Yes,” she whispered softly.

“Good girl,” I moved my hand back to her thigh, caressing it gently.

Her eyes were still on me as she bit her lip and spread her legs.

“Am I your Daddy?”

She nodded.

“And are you my bad girl?”

She nodded again, but this time she let out a little moan.

“Now,” I moved my hand up her dress getting to her inner thighs. She was burning up down there.

“Do you want to fuck your Daddy?”

Her pupils dilated as she hesitated. I moved my hand a little closer to her pussy, only a few inches away.

“Do you . . . want to fuck your Daddy? Right . . . now?”

She swallowed as she shook her head no. I moved my hand to her sweet pussy and gently grazed her lace panties. She was drenched in her sweet juices. She let out a faint moan, never breaking eye contact, making this moment between us almost . . . orgasmic.

I gave her inner thigh a squeeze before I pulled my hand away from her erotic sauna.  

“Strike three. You’re out.”