Hannah and Jen: Notes From Jen
Do I have Daddy issues?
A bonus chapter from Hannah and Jen:
Hannah and I were both up early that morning, drinking coffee and chatting, as usual. Hannah was trying to set me up with various guys in our class, and I was getting tired of the well-meaning fumbling and groping they were putting me through, and that inevitably led to Hannah talking about her new guy. And, like, try and stop Hannah when she gets going, right? It wasn’t really my fault.
He was older, Hannah’s new hookup. Like, actual grey hair and beard kind of old, and I couldn’t figure out how I felt about that. But also he had these eyes that made me feel like he saw me undressed, and I just knew he wouldn’t fumble or grope. That Hannah kept telling me how good he was in the sack wasn’t helping the feelings I was getting while I sipped the excellent coffee he had told Hannah to buy.
Like, he just told Hannah to do things - Hannah, for God’s sake! - and she did them. Bought him his coffee, wore things he liked, arranged her social time around when she could sneak over to his apartment, or he could visit ours. Her grades were up because he made her put in the time. I think it might be the first time anybody’s ever made Hannah put in the time.
One day, I bailed on a study session with a bunch of permanent frat bros and came home early. It wasn’t my fault, really. I couldn’t have known he would be there. Just because she was wearing his favorite top, a criminally short skirt, and brewing a pot of his coffee when I left doesn’t mean anything, right? And it’s my place too. I get to be there. It’s not my fault that I could hear them through the bedroom door. It’s not my fault that I had to sit on the couch with two fingers in me and the other hand in my mouth to keep quiet while he made her cum over and over.
Now, a week later, I was still processing that she called him Daddy. While he said things that would make my drill sergeant father blush.
I should have been disgusted, totally weirded out, like, Daddy? Really? Hannah has Daddy issues? But instead it just sat there in my head and looked at me meaningfully. I mean, I couldn’t really deny that I had masturbated to it, right there in the living room, helpless before the delicious filth, cumming right along with Hannah as she howled Oh yes Daddy, please Daddy, fuck me HARD.
Do I have Daddy issues?
I hadn’t quite admitted to myself yet that I was having dreams of his eyes above me, his shoulders square and solid as I thrust my dream-hips up against a shaft much larger than the modest toy that had torn my hymen for me, the only thing but my fingers that had ever been inside Miss Kitty.
So it was confusing, and I sat there with a weird glow in my belly while Hannah talked about him. I was still there when Hannah sat bolt upright and said, “Oh!” Then her eyes went all soft, and she half-moaned, “Ooohhhhh.” I could hear the soft buzz coming from between her legs, and saw her wiggle as her phone pinged a text. She giggled and gasped a little, reading the message, then looked up at me, “Um… Jen? Da… I mean Wiley is coming over in fifteen minutes.” She hitched a little on the next sentence as the buzzing changed pitch, “F-fair warning, I guess?”
I gaped. “Is he…?”
She blushed, “Um… I gave him a link to my new Lush last night. He told me to keep it in so he could wake me up with it, but… I woke up early.” Her phone pinged again, and her eyes went a little wide looking at the text. “I need to go… get ready.” Her eyes met mine, “He has a key, Jen, you don’t need to let him in or anything.” She smirked, “Or you could give him some coffee and stall him for a minute while I get myself together.”
I blushed a little, tried to pretend I hadn’t been thinking of a way to suggest just that. “Only for you, girl. And because he finally got you to get the good coffee.” She smirked again, and flounced off to her room. I tried not to imagine the vibrator buzzing away inside her, or what… Daddy… was going to do about it.
I tried really hard not to. I did, but I was still a little wet when I finally heard the door open and turned with a friendly smile, “Um, hey Wiley. Hannah’s in the bathroom. Want some coffee?”
All at once, his eyes were on me, right through me, inside me, crinkling at the corners the way they always did as his warm smile crawled slowly across his lips. I noticed his lips every time, the way they… The way I… I shook myself mentally as he brushed gently past me and grabbed a mug. “Good morning, Jen. How’s the paper coming?”
He always asked about my thesis, a safe place for us both. He knew my subject matter from a rogue scholar’s perspective, and we chatted about niche historical topics while he sipped his coffee and made me feel naked and bashful with just a crooked grin. Eventually I just ran out of words, taking long fake sips of coffee to cover the fact that I had mostly forgotten what my thesis was about
After a few minutes Hannah’s bedroom door clicked open, and her voice drifted out. “Are you done flirting with my roommate, Wiley?”
I could feel the flaming blush spread across my face. He was flirting? With me? Wait... That bitch! She suggested this!
If anything, his smile only grew wider, and his eyes twinkled as he saluted me gently with the mug in one hand before turning to Hannah’s door. “Are you finally ready then, babygirl?” His voice was rumbly-deep and gentle, but there was a sardonic edge to it that made my knees just a little weak. Weaker.
When the door had closed behind them, I stood motionless for a minute, breathing deeply and trying to collect the scattered remains of some dignity. That became a hopeless effort when his voice came muffled from her bedroom, “That’s right babygirl, get on your hands and knees where you belong…” and the SLAP! of flesh on flesh. All at once I understood that he was spanking my roommate. He was spanking her ass! She had a vibrator in her, and he was… My entire vagina clenched on nothing, and I suddenly realized that my thighs were soaked.
I stumbled to the couch in a daze, collapsing into a corner and putting one leg up on the cushions. My fingers were under my waistband and inside me before I could think about it, two fingers plunging into my slit while I twiddled and pushed at my clit with my thumb. The sounds of spanking and a merry scolding kept coming from her room, as he punished her for not being ready when he arrived, and for her bratty comment about her poor roommate… me?
The thought flashed through my head, “Daddy’s punishing her for me” and I exploded, stuffing my hand in my mouth again to muffle my squeaks.
I think some squeaks got out. I’m just not sure.
I’m not sure about the second or third time either.
I think I need to go change out of these pajama pants.
I think I might have some Daddy issues.