Close Your Eyes

Scene opens on Tim and his stepdaughter Laura parked on the living room couch, spoons clacking against cereal bowls. Tim glances up from the paper and flashes her a grin. “So, what’s up today?” Laura shrugs. “Meet Sharon for a movie later—right now just gonna chill in my room, maybe read a bit.” “Lazy Sunday, huh?” “Exactly.” “Well, you earned it. Eighteen years old and you’re grinding harder than I ever did,” he chuckles. She waves it off like it’s nothing. “College ain’t gonna apply itself.” He softens. “Your mom would be damn proud, Laura.” The words catch in her throat. “Thanks… Tim.” He gives her a gentle nudge. “You can try calling me ‘Dad’ if it feels right—no pressure.” She smiles. “Okay… Dad.” “What about you?” she flips it. “Big plans?” “Emails. Maybe a nap.” “Anything… juicy in that inbox?” She drags the last word out. He just winks. “We’ll see.” She plants a quick kiss on his cheek, bowls clattering as she heads down the hall. A few minutes later, Tim’s thumbs fly over a burner account on his laptop, setting up tonight’s first meet-and-greet. When he tells Laura about it she pumps him up like a hype girl at a prizefight: “You’re gonna crush this. She’s the lucky one, Pops.” He beams, shuts her door softly. Inside, Laura waits until the click, then flips open her own screen—and there it is: the same flirty chat window open on both machines. Game on. CUT TO TITLE Rachel shows up later, leather jacket half-zipped and ready to rumble. Ten minutes of small talk melt straight into heavy petting. The heat’s rising when she purrs, “Bedroom—now.” Tim hesitates; Rachel reassures him with a filthy little grin and drags him down the hall. Naked on the sheets, she dangles a satin blindfold. “Trust me,” she whispers, slipping it over his eyes. Outside the cracked door, bare feet move like smoke: Laura, kneeling at the bedside, hungry. Rachel nods at her once—cold, efficient—then slides aside, handing over the reins. Laura’s tiny hand wraps Tim’s cock, slow squeeze, hot palm gliding up the shaft. He shudders, breath punchy. “Feel those soft fingers milking your fat dick?” Rachel coos, speaking loudly, cueing the silent third player. Laura bites her lip and leans in, tongue flicking, ready to taste what she’s been craving for months. One wrong blink and Daddy’s blindfold comes off—game over.