Chapter 6

Part of me was disappointed when Dom hung up the phone and announced that her friend wouldn’t be able to come over until later that evening, shortly after six. But part of me was relieved. Very relieved.

Dom promptly went upstairs and changed out of, for want of a better description, her slutty outfit. She came back downstairs in grey sweatpants and a baggy red hoodie. This actually suited me just fine because, honestly, I needed the rest.

We also needed to stock up on food for the week. As much as I might want to, I knew full well that Dom and I couldn’t live on take-outs all week. So I took the opportunity to pop to Sainsbury’s. Emma usually did the weekly shop and it took me longer than it would have taken her simply because whereas she would have gone in with a list and knew where everything she wanted was in the shop, I didn’t bother with a list and wandered aimlessly around the supermarket putting things in the trolley that I thought would be good for making a meal out of, as well as too many snack foods and too much beer.

When I got back to the house it was after five and Dom was in the bath getting ready—whatever that meant. I busied myself putting the food away then went into the lounge, sat in my favourite armchair and turned on the television for the first time since I’d switched it off to chase after Dom the night before. Which meant that I was presented on the screen with the contents of that damn USB stick, and at the top of the list, the file called “DDV-Hornylildevil”.

My finger hovered over the ‘PLAY’ button on the remote control, but in the end, I pressed the button to dismiss the menu and swap back over to regular TV.

“You can watch it again,” said a voice from the doorway. “I won’t be offended.”

She looked stunning. Her long blonde hair had been teased up on top of her head in a careless, yet sexy style. Her make-up was subtle, almost as if she wasn’t wearing any, and those long, lithe legs were on display again, but instead of my white heavy-cotton shirt, she now wore a black satin kimono-style robe that I didn’t even know she owned. It was tied loosely at the waist and didn’t do much to hide what was underneath. It was clear she’d opted not to bother with a bra, for example.

She also had on a pair of black high heels, which served only to make her legs look even longer and even better. She leaned back against the door frame, her arms up above her head, and drew one leg up to rub along the other.

I felt my desire rising again. It had been several hours since I’d last fucked this incredible example of female sexuality and I didn’t want to wait any longer. I stood and walked across the room until I was standing directly in front of her. I put my hand on her hips as she put her foot back on the floor and brought her arms down to rest on my shoulders.

I moved in to kiss her, but she put her finger to my lips and said, “Save it, Big Bobby. Mel will be here soon.”

She took my hand and led me back to the armchair where she pushed me down into the seat, sat herself down on my lap then picked up the remote. She switched back to the USB stick and browsed through some of the other files on there.

“Any of these any good?” she asked, casually.

“Not as good as yours.”

“Really? Aww, thanks.” She selected her video file and the screen was once again filled with her achingly beautiful face. She took my hand and put it on her thigh, tossed the remote onto the nearby sofa and wiggled her glorious arse against the erection straining in my jeans.

The video had barely got started, by which I mean Dominique D’Ville was on her back sucking two cocks while some guy lapped away hungrily between her legs, when the doorbell rang.

“That’ll be Mel,” Dom said, leaping up out of my lap. “Go answer the door.”

Melanie Moore was a petite yet curvy brunette with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her facial features looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place them. Perhaps I’d seen one of her movies. She stood in the doorway, illuminated by the security light on the wall, with one hand on her hip and the other hanging loosely by her side.

“Bobby?”

I nodded.

“So you’re the cock that Dom called me about? Interesting.”

She wore a plain double-breasted beige mac, held tight against her with a belt tied at the waist. The mac came down to just past her knees, and below her legs were covered in black nylon—stockings I assumed rather than tights, given the reason Dom had called her. Tights wouldn’t have been very practical for the evenings planned activities. She also wore black high heels similar to Dom’s.

“Why interesting?”

She smiled. “When she said you were older, I didn’t think she meant older as in grandad older.”

“Grandad? I’m forty-six, not sixty-six.”

“You can be a grandad at forty-six. Hell, I’ve known men who were a grandad at thirty-six. I just meant that I thought you’d be, you know, thirty or thirty-five or something. Not, you know, older.”

Despite her obvious insolence, there was something immediately likeable about this girl. I could see why Dom thought of her as a friend.

“Fine. Well, are you going to stand there all night or are you going to come in?”

She smiled sexily then strode past me towards the open door of the living room. I followed, and asked, “Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?”

Yes, yes, I realise now how stupid that must have seemed, but at the time ... She was a guest in my house and guests in my house are always offered a drink on arrival.

But she ignored me, strode across the room to Dom and reached up to take the taller woman’s head in her hands and pull her down for a searing, passionate sapphic kiss. Dom towered over her friend and had to bend down quite a long way to kiss her. But bend down she did and kiss her she most definitely did. These two were more than just friends.

I watched nervously from the doorway. Why nervously? I’d been on this earth for forty-six years and while I’d enjoyed a few, shall we call them isexual adventures in my youth, particularly when I worked on the trading floors in the City of London, it had been a long time since I’d come this close to a threesome. A long time. And yet a threesome was very clearly what was on the cards. And I was worried I’d be out of practice.

I really wanted to talk to Mel. I wanted to sit her down, maybe at the kitchen table, and grill her about the real nature of the industry that my stepdaughter was now a part of.

But something told me that wasn’t going to happen any time soon.

Something told me that any control I’d had of this situation, which if I’m honest wasn’t all that much to begin with, had escaped out of the door when I opened it to let Mel in.

That kiss between the two porn stars seemed to me to last an inordinately long time. And all I could do was stand and stare. Eventually, sometime in the middle of the following week (or that’s what it felt like) they came up for air. Mel moved to stand next to Dom, who must have been a full foot taller than her, and put her arm around her waist.

“Well, Cupcake, he’s not what I pictured when you called me.”

“But in a good way, right?” Dom’s voice lacked the confidence it had had for the whole of the morning. I guess that her friend’s opinion must have been important to her.

“Oh, yes. In a good way. He’s older than I thought he would be, but he’s still got some of his own hair. Looks like he’s got a powerful chest and strong arms too, although I’d need to get him naked to really tell.” She cocked her head to the side, fixed me with a stare and raised an eyebrow.

“All in good time,” I said, my ego somewhat boosted by her words and my confidence returning—which I’m sure was her intent. “We have all night, don’t we? Now, how about that drink? I have a bottle of Scotch I’ve been looking for an excuse to open.”

Mel smiled. “Sounds good.” She looked up at Dom, “You like Scotch, right, Cupcake?”

Dom glanced at me then looked back at Mel and said, “I ... I’ve never tried it.”

“Really?” said Mel. “Well, now’s as good a time as any. Go crack it open, Big Boy.”

I grinned. I could see what was going on here. Mel thought she was in charge and Dom had already submitted to her confidence and authority. I began to wonder just how much influence Mel had over my stepdaughter. Began to wonder if she was the one really responsible for Dom’s entry into porn.

But this was my house. Which meant this was my party. I grinned, putting all the confidence of a lifetime’s experience of dealing with people into it as I could. I had at least twenty years on Mel. And I knew how to handle someone who thought they were in charge—I’d been doing that the whole of my professional life.

She wasn’t in charge. I was. And I’d show her that soon enough. But for now ... I was happy to let her think this was her gig for as long as it suited me.

I collected the bottle from the liquor cabinet in the dining room, along with three glasses, and retrieved a bottle of mineral water from the kitchen.

“Water?” said Mel when I went back into the lounge, set everything on the coffee table and poured just enough water into each glass to cover the bottom. “You’re going to dilute it? I thought you were a man?”

I looked up with a knowing smile. “You’re young. I’ll forgive your ignorance.” I poured a double dram into each glass with a well-practised hand, then picked two up and held them out to the girls. They both eyed them suspiciously, Dom because this would be her first drink of the nectar of the Gods, and Mel because she’d clearly never been taught how to drink Scotch properly, but they took the glasses from me anyway.

I picked up my glass, held it up to the both of them and said, “Here’s to a fun evening.”

“You betcha,” said Mel.

She raised the glass to her lips and made to swallow the golden liquid, but I held up my free hand and said, “Whoa there, Speedy. Slow down.”

She looked at me quizzically, the glass still to her lips.

“This isn’t some cheap supermarket moonshine you chug by the gallon. This is fifteen-year-old Dalwhinnie Single Malt. It’s fifty quid a bottle.”

Dom’s eyes went wide at this small revelation. Mel looked interested but didn’t move the glass from her lips.

“You need to treat it like you would a lover,” I said. “Show it some respect. Take the time to savour it, to enjoy its scent, to indulge in its myriad of flavours, to experience all it has to offer.” This little speech was aimed squarely at Mel. I lifted my glass to the light. “First, appreciate the way it looks. Every Scotch is unique, a million different shades of gold, from pale to dark.” I brought the glass back down level with my head. “Next ... take in the smell. Swirl it in the glass to release all those subtle aromas. That’s why the glass is this shape, fat at the bottom and narrower at the top—it traps the scent. Get your nose in there and breathe.”

Both girls had watched me closely and now they followed my example and got a good noseful of this truly magnificent spirit. “Close your eyes,” I said. “Let the aroma be all you experience.”

I didn’t close my eyes, but watched as the girls closed theirs and took another sniff.

“But that’s just foreplay,” I said. “Now for the climax.” They opened their eyes to look at me. I raised the glass to my lips and said, “A small mouthful, that’s all you need. Don’t swallow yet. Just hold it in your mouth, let the flavours wash over you.” I did as I’d directed and the girls followed suit.

As expected, Dom struggled with the burn. Perhaps I should have put a touch more water in her glass. But Mel’s eyes went wide. A million emotions passed over her features as she experienced Scotland’s finest in all its true glory for the first time.

I swallowed and Mel did the same.

“Wow,” she said. “That’s good stuff.”

“You have no idea,” I said. “It’s the water. Yes, it reduces the burn slightly, but its real function is to bring out all the flavours.”

“I thought you drank whisky with ice,” said Dom.

I smirked. “No. Not if you want to taste it. Ice freezes the flavours, rather than sets them free.”

I took another mouthful, but simply swallowed rather than hold it in my mouth. Then I put the glass back on the coffee table and took a step towards Mel. She quickly swallowed another mouthful, gasping as the burn hit her throat.

I stepped slowly towards her as I spoke. Dom had the good sense to step to the side. I think she recognised the power-play going on between me and Mel. “Drinking whisky is a lot like having sex,” I said. “Both can be transcendent, life-changing experiences. When done right.” Another step forward—I was standing right in front of her now. “And while you youngsters think you know how it’s done, it takes someone with maturity and sophistication to show you how to get the most out of it.”

I leaned in to capture her lips with mine and kissed her with a lifetime’s worth of skill. When I finished and pulled away, her eyes stayed closed and her mouth open. She brought a hand up to her mouth and touched her lips with a finger. Then sighed.

I looked across at Dom and smiled. She smiled back, knowingly, and nodded.

“Now,” I said, as Mel finally opened her eyes. “There must be a reason you’re still wearing this mac and all I can think of is that you wanted to do a grand unveiling or something. Which must mean that whatever you’re hiding must be worth seeing.”

I reached out to take hold of the belt that held the mac closed, slowly undid the knot and let the two halves of the belt fall loosely to the sides. Then, just as slowly, I prised open the coat to reveal what hid beneath.