"World Cup? I'm not interested in football this morning, Daddy," I replied, turning away to leave.
"Argentina is about to have their big match against Portugal," he countered, looking at me with a knowing smirk. "I guess you know exactly what that means."
That single sentence was what instantly got my full attention. I generally don't enjoy watching soccer, but whenever Lionel Messi was on the pitch, I always absolutely loved to watch.
My stepdad had been a die-hard, obsessive Messi fan ever since I was a small girl, and his intense passion had heavily influenced me over the years. He always argues with his friends that Messi is better than Ronaldo.
Anytime Messi was playing a match, it was an unspoken tradition that I would come and join him on the couch. Over the years, he had even bought me a couple of oversized, official Messi jerseys that I treasured.
"I'm coming! Let me change real quick," I rushed out in pure excitement.
I ran back up to my room, a genuine thrill racing through my veins. I pulled open my drawer and dragged out the large, iconic blue-and-white striped jersey. Because the jersey was incredibly oversized and draped heavily over my frame, I made a sudden, bold decision—I pulled off my tennis skirt entirely, leaving me in nothing but the shirt and my tiny underwear.
I stepped in front of the bathroom mirror to check my reflection and instantly smiled at what I saw. When I was small, this exact jersey used to drop all the way down, completely covering my thighs like a long dress.
But now that my body had filled out, the hem of the shirt was barely covering the curve of my ass. Every time I shifted, the fabric rode up, exposing the smooth skin of my thighs and the thin straps of my G-string.
Despite how incredibly hot and dangerously provocative I looked, I decided to go downstairs exactly like that. A wicked, burning desire took hold of me; I wanted to feel those long, lingering gazes from him again. I wanted him to see exactly how sexy I had become during my time away at school.
The match was already playing, the crowd noise echoing from the speakers, when I finally showed up in the living room. His eyes instantly dropped at the sight of me, his gaze lingering heavily on my exposed legs and the high hemline of the jersey for a long, breathless Moment before he finally forced his eyes up to meet mine.
"Your jersey looks much better on you now," he murmured, his voice slightly lower than usual.
"Thank you, Daddy," I replied smoothly, a secret wave of satisfaction washing over me.
I moved towards the couch to sit behind him, intending to watch from his side. On the screen, Portugal was already locked in a tight defense, while Argentina was aggressively controlling the ball, driving it up the field.
I sat behind him and began to watch. Portugal took control of the ball and pushed forward the Argentina goal area, but the Argentina team tackled and took the ball from them.
The match was a tough and interesting one. As we were watching, I heard a sound at the other end of the furniture. I panicked, shifted closer to him so that our bodies were touching, and held his arm. It felt warm and strong.
He turned towards me and asked, “What is that?”
“Dad, you said you have driven them away. I can hear noises over there.” I said, pointing towards the direction I heard the sounds.
“Don't panic. Come here.” He pulled me closer and wrapped his arm around me. I felt more save and settled my head on his chest.
“I will check it out once the first half ends.” He assured me, rubbing his arm along my arm. I felt more cherished. I love the smell of his body cologne and his warm protective body. His chest was broad and ripped, the muscles defined, and my mind instantly flashed to the image of those same muscles straining over my mom last night.
Amidst the match, the rat suddenly rushed out. I nearly screamed. I held him tightly, panic washing over me. “Daddy!”
“Calm down, Daddy is here.” He said but I couldn't relax. I was scared to the bone.
“You know what? You can sit on my lap. Once the match ends, I will kill it.” He said.
My heart skipped. I completely didn't see that invitation coming. 'Sitting on his lap?'
I looked at him, suddenly hyper-aware of his appearance. Because of the weather, he was completely shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of loose Messi athletic shorts.
"Are you sure about it?" I asked. “I'm no longer a small girl, Daddy. I'm much heavier now. I might just break your legs."
"Look at me, I'm still young and strong. I can carry you all day long if I have to," he said with a low chuckle, patting his bare thigh invitingly. "Come on, my baby girl. Sit on Daddy's lap."
The way he said it sent a torrent of liquid heat straight to my core. I sat up from the couch and gently lowered my butt down onto his lap.
As I sat down, the oversized jersey naturally gathered and hovered around my waist, riding up completely. Because I had taken off my skirt, there was no fabric left to protect me. I was lowering myself onto his lap in just my thin, narrow G-string.
Practically speaking, I was sitting directly on his bare thighs with my completely bare ass, the hot contact of our skin sending an immediate, electric shockwave straight through my entire body.
The friction of that direct contact was overwhelming. My breath hitched in my throat as my skin met his. The heat radiating from his bare thighs felt like an open flame, scorching through the thin strip of my underwear and sending a violent, uncontrollable reaction pulsing through my lower abdomen.
My nipples, already free beneath the jersey, tightened instantly into hard, aching peaks as they brushed against the loose fabric. My heart began to race.
Because of the sudden rush of pure, unadulterated arousal, I wasn't balanced well at all. My knees felt weak, and my weight was shifted awkwardly, making me feel unsteady on his lap.
My heart was hammering so hard against my ribs I was terrified he would feel it vibrating against his chest. Desperate to steady myself and find a more stable, comfortable position, I unconsciously shifted my weight backward, sliding my hips firmly against his lap to settle in.
The Moment I moved, I felt his large, calloused hands come up to assist me. He gripped my bare waist tightly, his warm palms sending a jolt of electricity straight to my spine as his fingers dug slightly into my skin. He guided my hips, pulling me firmly backward until I was sitting close to his fly.
I knew this was a dangerous, forbidden boundary that we were actively scraping against. But I couldn't move an inch. I sat there completely paralyzed, trapped between the terror of what we were doing and the consuming fire of my own wicked desires.