I was in my bedroom, watching my favorite movie on my laptop, when I heard my dad's car turn into the driveway, followed by the unfamiliar hum of another engine. I didn't think much of it, assuming it was just one of his random friends or colleagues, and went back to my movie.
A few minutes later, my dad’s voice boomed from the living room. "Bella! Come and greet Frank! He's back!"
Frank. It was my dad's best friend. I paused the movie immediately, my heart leaping with joy. He had been abroad on a five-year contract, and finally, he was back.
I jumped out of bed in excitement and rushed to the living room, not even bothering to check the mirror or smooth down my hair. I was wearing a flimsy nightgown that barely covered my ass. It was sexy, sure, but since I was only running out to welcome my dad's best friend, I didn't mind.
I stepped into the living room, only to freeze. Standing there, smiling at my dad—who was currently on a call—was a man so devastatingly handsome I almost forgot how to breathe. I couldn't believe who I was seeing. If I hadn't known him for years, I would have mistaken him for a stranger.
He looked incredible. He was never an ugly man, but the last five years had treated him well. His new look was breathtaking.
"Mr. Frank!" I called out. He turned towards me, a charming smile lighting up his face that nearly made me trip over my own feet.
"Bella."
I rushed over and hugged him, throwing my arms around his neck just like I used to. I was expecting the familiar, safe embrace of the man who used to buy me ice cream and toys. But to my surprise, my body reacted differently this time.
When he pulled back, he looked down at me. "My little princess, how are you doing?"
I smiled nervously. "I'm fine, Uncle." I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, feeling my cheeks heat up.
I saw his eyes travel down to my breasts, which were barely contained by the thin fabric. I knew he could see the outline of my nipples through the gown. His gaze lingered for a second too long before he snapped his eyes back up to mine, as if remembering himself.
He cleared his throat. "I'm so happy to see you again. You have grown into a very beautiful girl."
I couldn't help but blush, feeling like a shy schoolgirl under his intense scrutiny. I wanted to tell him how handsome he had become, but the words stuck in my throat.
"Thank you. I'm happy to see you too," I managed to reply, locking eyes with him. For a second, I forgot where I was, lost in the depths of his dark gaze, wondering what he was thinking behind that composed mask.
"Bella," my dad called out, jolting me out of my little fantasy. He was finally off the phone, looking at us with a curious but oblivious grin. "You have welcomed him enough. Go and get some food for us."
I turned and headed towards the kitchen. I plated Frank's food with extra care, choosing the best pieces of chicken and making sure everything looked presentable. I wanted to impress him, even in this small way. I served the food at the dining table and watched them sit down to eat.
Frank thanked me with a nod, his eyes meeting mine again for a brief, charged moment before he looked down at his meal.
I left the room but stopped to hide behind the door, watching him through the crack. I didn't know what had come over me, but I couldn't stop looking at him. He had transformed into something I couldn't explain.
Soon, they finished, and he left. But throughout that day, I couldn't get him out of my head. I wondered what it would feel like to have those strong arms around me again—but with a very different intention. I curled my lips into a faint grin. I wanted to meet him again. Privately. I wanted to hear him explain why he was staring at me like that.
The following evening, he came by and took me with him to a gala. We dined and danced, but the highlight came during the charity auction. A stunning diamond watch was brought to the stage. Bidding was fierce, stalling at three hundred thousand dollars. The auctioneer was about to drop the gavel when Frank raised his paddle.
"Five hundred thousand dollars."
The room fell into stunned silence. No one dared to outbid him. I was breathless, wondering just how rich he had become—and why on earth he wanted a woman's watch. Did he have a girlfriend?
He paid immediately, and the watch was brought to him. I was still lost in thought when he suddenly took my hand. I watched as he fastened the watch carefully around my wrist, then lifted my hand to press a kiss to the back of it.
"This is my special gift for you," he whispered.
I was stunned into silence. I hadn't seen that coming.
"Thank you," I breathed. In my excitement, I hugged him and used the opportunity to press a quick kiss to his lips. It was fleeting, but an electric surge of pleasure shot through me.
"Sorry. I... I was just excited," I apologized, feigning innocence.
But I did it intentionally. And it was worth it.
On the drive home, I desperately wanted to make a move, but my courage failed me. I didn't want him to think I was a spoiled brat or moving too fast. I forced myself to stay composed, despite the thick tension filling the car.
A few days later, Frank took my father and me to a private beach. I used the trip as an excuse to wear my most daring bikini. My father didn't mind, but Frank? I caught him staring constantly at my curves. He would quickly look away whenever I turned towards him.
Craving more of his attention, I waded into the deeper water and pretended to struggle, shouting for help. Just as I’d expected, he dove in to save me. As he carried me out of the surf, I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. His hand brushed against the side of my breast, and a wave of heat rushed down my spine. By the time we reached the tent, I was wet—and not just from the ocean. Luckily, since I was already soaked, no one would know.
Later on, I asked him to take photos of me in my bikini.
"Can you take some photos of me with your phone?" I asked.
"Sure, why not. Where do you want to pose?" he asked. My dad was away, chatting with someone down the beach.
I pointed at a large rock, big enough to hide us from view. "Let's go there."
"Let's go," he agreed.
When we got behind the rock, I adjusted my bikini top, exposing a little more skin. "I want to look sexy," I said casually, as if it were a normal adjustment.
"Ready?" I asked.
"Always," he replied, his voice a little rough.
I began to pose, shifting through different angles as he snapped away. I arched my back, pushing my breasts forward so they spilled over the cups, then reached up to cup them firmly, as if offering them to him.
Next, I turned sideways, glancing back at the camera so he could get a shot of my ass. He took five pictures in that pose before I decided to step up my game.
Facing him, I slid my hands down between my legs and slowly tugged at my bikini bottom, adjusting it as if it wasn't sitting right. I pulled the fabric aside just an inch, exposing the smooth, pale skin of my pussy before letting it snap back. I was taunting him, playing the innocent tease, knowing he was devouring every inch through the lens.
When I was done, I looked up to see an unmistakable, massive tent rising in his swim trunks. I smiled at him. "Is that because of me, Uncle?"
He panicked, looking down at his own betrayal. "Fuck! No, it's not what you think," he stammered, crossing his legs quickly to hide the bulge. "It... it just happens sometimes. The heat, you know?"
"I'm not a kid, Frank. I know it's because of me," I said, my voice low. "Don't worry, I won't tell my dad. You can uncross your legs. You shouldn't suffocate something that looks so... big."
"Don't worry, I'm okay," he muttered, quickly finishing the photos. He sent them to my phone, and we walked back to the tent in silence. But I knew he hadn't deleted a single one.
—
Two days later, my dad came home and announced he was leaving for a week-long business trip.
"Where am I supposed to stay?" I asked.
"You're nineteen," he teased. "Can't you stay alone?"
"For a whole week? I'll die of boredom," I groaned.
"What about staying with Frank?"
My heart skipped a beat. "I think that’s a better idea," I replied, carefully masking my excitement.
After a quick phone call, Dad returned. "Pack your bags. You’re going to his place tomorrow."
The next day, after dropping my father at the airport, Frank picked me up. We drove to his new estate—a house far larger and more luxurious than my father’s. When he showed me to my guest room, I felt like a real princess.
"This is your room," he said, standing with his hands in his pocket. "If you need anything, just ask me. Your father told me to take good care of you, so let’s make this easy."
He turned and left, leaving me to settle in. I smiled as I unpacked. He might be playing the part of the perfect, innocent gentleman for now, but I knew one thing for sure: I wasn't planning on leaving the house the same way I came.