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Vanilla point of view

It was wrong, but it felt so right at the time. Crave, desire and warm feelings caused me to forget how much I love my mother and to see my stepfather, whom I refer to as dad, as my lover.

We betrayed her in her bed, in her house, and in her car. She owns almost everything. Even both of us belonged to her, but only for a short time because our bodies were controlled by something far more powerful than either of us. It infiltrated our souls, blinding us to the undeniable fact that he was my stepfather and I was the daughter he almost raised from the age of eight until now.

In the beginning, our lives were routine. When he met my mother, he was a well-known football player at his college. He was twenty years old and was born into a prosperous family. He drew a lot of attention because he was a talented and handsome football player, but he only fell hard for the gorgeous reporter who was my mother. She was twenty-eight years his senior at the time, but that didn't stop them from marrying after his graduation. She had just gotten divorced, and everyone was proposing to her. I was eight years old at the time.

My father was an irresponsible man who simply kicked my mother and me out of his life to make room for other girls. He didn't look after me or care about me. He didn't ask for help after they divorced, and I later realized that he was only using my mother's beauty and money to become wealthier. He was filthy rich, and greedy, but he always wanted more.

This is how he came into our lives as well. He was a charming prince, and his smile brightened my mother's day as well as mine. He treated me like a real father, and our relationship was that of a normal daughter and father.

I was more attached to him than I was to my mother. He was a filthy rich businessman, and my mother was also obscenely rich, but she was only a TV host and sports reporter. She should have made time for her only child, but she didn't. I guess because she was always relying on Dave.

Yes, he was Dave Green, the world's most famous bachelor and a playmaker quarterback in football. He gave up the games to focus on his family businesses and to be a good husband and father.

It was difficult not to fall for him; as a young child without a father or mother to care for me, it was nearly impossible. My mother was always busy and couldn't care less about me.

Everything was going so smoothly that I didn't notice I was falling at first. I was simply too close to him, and he was my one and only best friend. I had complete faith in him and frequently sought his advice or opinion, as is customary between a father and a daughter. However, because he was not my biological father and I was not his daughter, our relationship was changing. But we didn't realize it until much later.

I guess I was so lucky to have him in my life - a stepfather who treats his stepdaughter so well! That was something I'd never heard of before. I had only heard of fathers abusing their daughters.

But I guess God loved me enough to give me Dave.

He was incredibly nice to me, and he was always willing to help me with my schoolwork or hang out with me as a father. He did for me what my biological father and mother failed to do.

I was at the top of his priority list: number one. Whenever I called him, he would drop whatever he was doing and come back to me.

I recall having a fever while my mother was away, and the helpers were on their day off. He was in the middle of an important meeting that sounded like the dream deal of his life, and he dropped everything to rush up to the house and take me to the hospital. He was overly protective; he never yelled at me or punished me for anything. I was also an obedient girl until my senior year of high school. Everything shattered and flipped upside down.

I was a good student with mediocre grades. It's not very popular, but it's also not very normal. I was pretty, but not as pretty as my mother; she was stunningly beautiful, but I was sexier. I've got bigger boobs and a bigger ass. I was more attractive and hotter. My body was on fire, and what drew the most attention to me was the fact that I had never dated a guy before. I'm a virgin! Sure thing. That, however, was not the point. The issue was that I realized I didn't date anyone because I wished to be with someone like Dave. Someone who was attractive, hot, and cared about me. He's a real man, not just another idiot at my school.

That's when my feelings for him began to sway, and I began to fantasize about him kissing or touching me. I began to wake up drenched. He was only 30 years old, and I was 18 years old. I transformed into a sexy girl who only needed a dick to become a lady, but he remained unchanged. He was becoming a hotter man, and it was something I couldn't get out of my head.

My mother ignored him as a husband and me as a daughter; she was only concerned with her own reputation, career, and celebrity. As a result of my neglect, my relationship with Dave became one of craving, lust, and desire.

I'd always wondered why Dave hadn't divorced my mother or cheated on her or something! It was a difficult question for me to answer because she did not deserve that man. But I suppose he didn't want to break up our family. We were a family to him, and I was his daughter, so I guess he was more afraid of losing me, especially since he didn't have any children from my mother.

I awoke that morning horny and wet, but I couldn't figure out why. I simply wrapped the pillows around my head and decided not to go to school.

I didn't open my eyes when I heard footsteps, and the door opened. I pretended to be sleeping. I inhaled his scent as he leaned in closer and gently nudged my shoulder, saying, "Vanilla."

I ignored his calls until he sat next to me in bed, at which point I revealed my face. He gently pressed his fingers against my cheeks and said, "Vanilla, get up. It's time for you to go to school, and I'm driving you today." My heartbeat drummed faster in my chest as a result of his smooth touch and sexy sweet voice.

He grinned when I didn't move. "Okay, I see. Then I must do this." He began to tickle me hard, and I laughed and squirmed in response. We both laughed hard, but I couldn't figure out why I rolled over on him and found myself sitting on his lap, my boobs pressing against his chest and our lips almost touching.

I gave him a nervous look, and we both blinked breathlessly. It was an awkward and strange situation, but it was a different feeling. It wasn't a feeling shared by a daughter and father. It was a mixed feeling between a man and a woman.

"I'll take a quick shower and follow you downstairs," I said shyly as I drew away from him. I hurried to the bathroom and shut the door, my breathing heavily.

'What was that?!' I wondered. My heartbeat was pounding harder and louder as if I were experiencing heart attack symptoms.

I realized I had forgotten to bring my towel and clothes. I opened the door to my bathroom, naked, looking for my towel, and saw Dave standing there, now staring at my body. He was silently inspecting me from my toes to my hair, his eyes filled with longing.

He gulped nervously and grabbed the towel, standing up to slowly wrap the towel around my body, then whispered in my ear, "I will always be the one who covers your body," and left in a flash.

I was frozen in place, unable to respond to his words, facial expressions, or even body language. But I couldn't do it! What on earth was that?! What exactly did he mean by that?

And, for God's sake, what was going on with me? Why does he have such an impact on my body?!

It was later that I realized it was my first heartbeat for him and me.

I sighed, 'I think he'll be my first everything.'

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