Primal Scream (Box Set #1, Taboo Sex + AFF) (18 page)

“
I almost quit the show,” Aimee added, with a tight sensation in her throat. “It just got too hard.”

What she said was echoing Deryk’s own thoughts on life itself. But he got himself together. If he couldn’t be an example for his kids, he couldn’t expect anything out of them.

“
Don’t give up,” Deryk began, even as his mind was going mad with lust. If he unzipped his jeans, his bloodmeat would’ve leapt forth like it had its own life.

“
It’s so hard!” she wailed, dabbing her eyes with the edge of one of the paper napkins on the table. “I just…”

Deryk paused, when he noticed some tears start to well up in Aimee’s striking seagreen eyes. He reached over to hold her hand in his, his heart racing, his mind a chaotic blitz. To hell with the show and its producers, and glamorous hosts, and throng of camera crew and behind-the-scenes editors, the ones who literally put together the teasing trailers and dramatic scenes for each episode, that drew audiences in for TV ratings for the show.

Deryk knew Aimee’s fears. He’d been there before: the fear about creativity and self-expression versus “corporate realities,” the pull between building a career the conventional way, versus striking out on one’s own.

She started pouring all of her concerns out. “I want to be true to my aesthetic…we have these challenges, and it’s different if you’re just watching it on TV—it’s actually filmed in like 30 days—we’re up at eight and only stop work at midnight and given just a few minutes to plan and sketch out the designs that the judges want—”

“
Just do your best, Aimee,” Deryk said, shifting in his seat when one of the cameras turned to face him directly. Was this all part of the show? “We’ll always support your goals and dreams. Just do what you have to do, and stay true to yourself.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. All Deryk felt in his heart was a need to protect her, to give her some strength and moral support to carry on with what she was doing. He was so glad he’d come to see her—he’d come at just the right time.

The moment was captured on film, the kind of emotionally-driven stuff the producers of the show would be looking out for, to include in the final version of the episode that would eventually be viewed to the public.

Deryk didn’t mention how worthless he felt. He felt like absolute rubbish had just rolled out of his mouth.

If what he said were true, he’d just given justification for Meg’s actions.
Just do what you have to do, and stay true to yourself.

Deryk wasn’t expecting Aimee to break down. He hadn’t seen her cry much as an adult. He remembered the few times he had witnessed her cry, when she was a teenager. He’d never known what to do. He’d just stand around quietly, supporting her with a listening ear and his presence. After a while, she would pick herself up and head off somewhere, usually to her own room, usually still sobbing. But her bright smile would always return the next day, after a good night’s rest.

Suddenly, the cameramen put their equipment down.

“
We’ve got enough footage,” one of them said to Deryk. “Aimee needs to be back at Axis Hotel by 10 p.m.—you can spend the rest of the day together.”

Deryk gave a bewildered nod, and watched as the two cameramen went off in the direction that they had come from. He watched as they crossed the busy street, and turned the corner.

“
Thank you, Daddy.” Aimee clung on to his shirt, taking in his familiar scent. He made her feel secure and comfortable. She leaned in, whispering, “That sure got rid of them quick.”

Deryk felt a warm sensation on the back of his neck. “It was all an act?”

Aimee sat up, slowly leaning back against her seat. “The whole show is,” she said with a tired sigh. “They’ve already decided who the winner is going to be—it’s the individual whose ‘aesthetic’ most closely aligns with one of the sponsors of the show. Though of course, they won’t mention this to the viewing public.”

Deryk blinked at Aimee. He didn’t know who the corporate sponsors were, though he understood that was the way things worked in the media.

“
You’re still in the top five,” Deryk said. “You should be very proud of yourself, as we all are.” He could say that with certainty, with regards to himself at least.

Aimee nodded. “And the show does give a lot of exposure—it looks great on our resume too.”

She leaned forward, resting part of her breasts on the table. The top part of her breasts were showing—Deryk snuck a look at the cream in her cappuccino, then the exposed area of her breast, and wet his lips.

He froze when he saw her looking right back at him. He knew she saw him lick his lips. Could she see the filth going on in his mind?

“
How’s the hotel you’re staying at?”

Deryk put his hands beside him on the seat, when he saw the marks on his knuckles.
Amy. Bouncy curls. Tits. Ass. About Aimee’s age.
“Good,” he replied.

“
Shall we head over there for a bit?”

“
Sure.”

It was one block away. Deryk and Aimee walked beside each other, both on the quiet side, enjoying each other’s company. Deryk was spacing out—he wanted to see Aimee sprawled out on his bed in the hotel room. He’d strip her, tell her he’d seen some of the photos on her PC, and wanted to take some of her, for his own personal collection. He wouldn’t ask about her photos, ask if someone had taken them, or who had seen them. All he wanted was to see her stripped naked before him…and maybe do a little dance with him—or for him, an ass shaking lap dance of a private show…

“
Which floor?” said Aimee.

They’d sailed into the elevator of Hollywood Slots, and Deryk hadn’t had a clue.

“
Three.”

Deryk got his card out of his pocket to open his room door. If he’d chanced upon a pair of handcuffs on the floor in his room, he’d be stuck between two options: using it to chain Aimee’s wrist or ankle to the bed, or using it on himself, so that he wouldn’t do anything he’d regret for the rest of his life.

The door clicked shut behind them. Deryk went over to the window, to switch on the air conditioning unit. He pulled back the curtain, looking out at the streams of people on the street below. He wasn’t bothered with any of these individuals, who looked so little down in the street below. What would any of them do, if they were in his shoes, standing in a room next to an attractive woman?

“
You know…” Aimee said, going nearer to her father.

She was so near, that Deryk’s hand brushed against her hip, when he turned slightly to face her. She was so radiant—strong as well as beautiful—he reached out to touch one of the loose strands of her hair, a gesture of affection, more than anything else.

“
Some of my…designs, were too risqué for the show. I had to start over and do a whole new piece. It’ll be totally edited out of the episodes that will view later.”

Deryk frowned. She had a makeshift studio in the basement of Deryk’s house, while she saved up to get her own studio sometime in the future. He’d seen some of her designs there—he recalled lots of shine, and metallic, edgy chic kind of apparel.

“
But one of the guest judges—a celebrity—saw a pastel pink satin corset I’d made, and she requested for it. She’ll be wearing it with jeans to her next red carpet event.”

“
That’s great, Aimee!” Deryk beamed at her, so proud of his daughter.

Aimee smiled back, then looked out the window for a moment. Deryk thought he saw a sultry, smoldering glint in her eye. The celebrity must have a bangin’ body to wear a corset out of the house instead of in the boudoir. A bangin’ body, like Aimee’s.

“
And we might team up, for a celebrity line intimate wear. The items would be feminine and fun, with a hint of spice.”

Deryk breathed slowly, impressed at the recognition Aimee was gaining, and envisioning her modeling her slinky intimates. He wanted to be in her—he wanted her to be all his.

“
I wanted to thank you,” Aimee continued. “You’re the one who always said to stay true to a vision…and the only one who meant it. That kept me going through the show. All the backstabbing and bitching and stuff going on…if I’d listened to the judges all the time, I’d never have done the ‘risqué’ material that’s part of my signature.
And
that might get my name somewhere.”

No need to thank me,
Deryk thought. He was gonna rifle through her studio another day, if he could. He was interested in what he might find there.

“
And…” Aimee said quietly, “…you were the one who told me to audition for the show in the first place. You’ve always been rooting for me…I always think of you…for inspirations for designs…for past words of advice.”

Deryk didn’t quite know just how much of an inspiration he had been to Aimee. She’d learned more about sex and sexuality from Deryk, than her mother. Meg gave her the facts and hard advice when she had questions—but it was Deryk who really showed her the sensuality and raw power of the female form. She’d seen his porn collection, which included tasteful softcore nudes, hardcore amateur videos, and much more. She’d wait past 2 a.m. when she was a fifteen-year-old, just to sneak downstairs, and open up Deryk’s laptop, to see what new material he’d added to the locked folder labeled: ‘hahaha’. He had a document of all his passwords, which he saved on the laptop. Once Aimee had found that, she had full access to all his folders and accounts. She’d seen his desktop wallpapers and screensavers of luscious, exotic nude bodies, which he changed whenever there was “family” around.

She always knew he had a high sex drive.

And so did she. It almost drove her over the edge at times—boys loved her and would want to bang her, but she was looking for a man, not a boy.

She was looking for someone with confidence, who was sensuous, and knew the power of fantasy. She was looking for a good lover who’d take his time in bed, for someone who actually gave a damn about her. Someone just like the man she was standing beside.

She went on her knees before Deryk, sliding the straps and neckline of her slip dress down, letting her large breasts pop out over the tight neckline.

“
Aimee…” Deryk uttered, in shock and out of balance, feeling the breath being knocked out of his lungs, and the whole room starting to spin around slowly, like when he’d first woken up in the morning.
Tomás and his whore, Amy and the asphalt
—all of Deryk’s existence seemed to revolve around these two images, which had led him to the present moment.

His stepdaughter looked up at him, with eyes that hid nothing. “You’re the only person who never had any harsh words about my passion for fashion…it means the world to me.”

She was about to blow his mind in three seconds, and she knew it.

“
Thank you, dad,” she whispered coyly, gently placing two palms flat against his thighs, gazing up at him with her sexy smoky eyes. She took his cock between her plump, soft lips, starting off by giving him a delicate blowjob that would send any man to heaven and back.

All Deryk could think of at that point was the silky wetness of her mouth. It was warm and slick, with slight movements and pulses of her tongue. Neither of them said anything, and Deryk started to grunt breathing heavily as Aimee worked his cock in style, pampering his stiff man meat with her tongue and lips, and sucking it from every imaginable angle. The long, wet blowjob made Deryk melt. And seeing the beautiful bliss on his face melted Aimee’s heart.

Aimee was so good with her stepdad that even his ankles started to sweat. Deryk knew he was going to feel drained, that his balls were going to hurt a little later, from coming so hard. She continued with the fellatio as Deryk straddled over her chest, transfixed on nothing but her as she sandwiched his smooth, nicely shaped, raging cock in between her tits, and slid it in and out until he released his cum on her neck and breasts.

She rubbed his cum into her tits, then licked her finger tips, her tongue begging for the last drips off his cock.

“
Let me taste you,” she breathed.

Deryk shot a major load a couple more times, and Aimee swallowed those, sucking on his head so, so gently. She gave his cock a kiss, before sliding her mouth off.

“
I
looooved
doing that,” Aimee said, showing him her wide open mouth, as she licked her teeth and lips clean.

She looked at Deryk as if for confirmation, that he’d enjoyed it as much as she had. So far, he hadn’t had a single moment of unbearable self-loathing. He smiled and kissed Aimee fully and long on the lips, slowly, enticingly, like they were the only two people in existence at that moment in time.