**Part 1 – Bye, Felicia**
“Fuck you, Jim!” Felicia screamed as she slammed the screen door in his face. “Just…fuck you!”
Jim watched as his soon to be ex-wife stormed down the sidewalk toward her car. Before she was able to stumble her way into her late-model Honda Accord, he closed the interior door with a soft *thud* and leaned his forehead against it. Partially exasperated, partially in relief. The screen door outside closed softly with a click.
There were suspicions that Felicia had been cheating, but overwhelming evidence was all it took to accost her. The proverbial proof in the pudding was an outright admission of guilt.
All of the usual signs were there; closing the laptop when Jim entered the room, muffled phone calls behind closed doors, being secretive about texting… the list went on. Purchasing condoms, lube, and brand new panties all at once from Target using the joint bank account was the fatal slip-up.
After the argument and ensuing departure, Jim realized that their daughter would soon be home from school. *Our daughter*, he thought to himself. *More like ‘my daughter’ after it’s all said and done*.
He knew that Felicia would eventually abandon them both. All she ever cared about was herself and what made her happy. She didn’t breast-feed, she was never a doting mother, and her idea of parenting was *laissez-faire* at best.
Sophie got her looks from her mother, but that was about it. Everything else she got from her father.
It was equal parts joy and sadness to see Sophie walk through the door that day. Jim knew he had to explain everything to her right away. He could never keep secrets from her for long. *Better to rip the band-aid off quick*, he thought.
The two sat at the table while Jim carefully explained the situation. He did his best to make sure his daughter understood that none of it was her fault. He also tried not to paint his wife as a cheating slut to their daughter, but Sophie wasn’t a fool and understood the subtext.
Talking to her was hard. Her sparkling green eyes were the same as her mother’s. Her fair complexion, while unblemished from age, was virtually the same as well. In appearance alone, she was all but a spitting image.
The hair color was completely different, however. It was artificial. While Felicia had a sandy-blonde mane, Sophie’s was much darker, but not completely brown.
On that day, her hair was dyed mostly red, but there were hints of colors Jim couldn’t readily identify.
Ever since puberty, Sophie was in charge of her own hair color. She loved changing it as often as possible. Luckily for her, mom didn’t care. Dad cared, but found it impossible to say no to his little girl. Whatever she wanted, within reason, she got.
Most high-schoolers would have taken the news with a grain of salt and departed for their room at the earliest opportunity. Sophie was like any other student, but empathetic beyond compare next to anyone else in her class. Especially when the topic was her father.
She clasped his folded hands on the table and inquired how he was holding up.
“Are *you* okay, dad?” she asked.
Jim lied to protect her from his pain with a soft “yeah”, but there was no pulling the wool over her eyes. She permitted him the fantasy and reluctantly left him sitting alone at the kitchen table while she took her backpack up to her room.
**Part 2 – It’s a Lonely Old Night**
Jim sat at the table with his head in his hands for the better part of twenty minutes when Sophie returned to the kitchen.
“I’m hungry,” she proclaimed.
Although he hadn’t given it a single thought until then, Jim was hungry, too. *Breakfast was two large coffees and lunch was…was…* Memory failed him. He had no idea what lunch might have been earlier in the day, if anything. His stomach growled with discontent.
“Me, too, princess.”
“I want pizza,” she declared.
Jim knew she didn’t want pizza. That was his guilty pleasure. Sophie always wanted weird and complex food. Sushi, veal piccata, pasta vodka, filet mignon with asparagus, or eggs benedict. Those were things in her wheelhouse. While she didn’t always get her way with expensive food choices, she felt it never hurt to ask.
If she suggested a meat lover’s pizza from the shop on the other side of town, it was a certainty that she was ordering for him, not her.
“Okay…” her father began.
“How about a meat lover’s pizza from DiVolo’s?” she queried.
*That’s my girl*, he thought, cracking a half-smile.
“Only if you drive to pick it up, how about that?” he suggested.
Any excuse to take the car out by herself was a good one and there was no chance she would decline.
“Really, dad? I can take your car?”
Jim pulled the keys from his pocket and suspended them in mid-air. Sophie reached for them, but her father wouldn’t easily let them go.
“You’ll be careful?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise.”
As the keys slipped from his fingers, she twisted away with a grin saying, “thank you.”
“Love you,” Jim mumbled to the empty room as the door closed behind her.
After cleaning up the kitchen a bit, Jim turned the television on in the living room. He set three places around the coffee table where the family would occasionally sit and eat take-out. Realizing what he had done, he crumpled one of the paper plates and tossed it angrily into the corner.
Jim spaced out on the couch in front of the TV for nearly forty-five minutes. Once he heard the car door slam, he stirred and knew Sophie had returned.
Other than the television program, dinner was relatively silent. Aside from a few brief comments about the food quality, Jim and Sophie ate in peace.
Sophie cleaned the mess after they were done eating, which was minimal. Jim sunk back into the couch and stared off into space. He stayed that way for a while, until Sophie saddled up next to him and whispered.
“Come here, daddy,” she pleaded. “Let me put my arms around you.”
**Part 3 – The Neighborhood of Make-Believe**
Jim wasn’t sure how long he cried or the length of time his daughter held him in her arms; darkness had fallen outside. He slipped into unconsciousness from a combination of mental exhaustion and a warm embrace.
Everything was hazy and the air felt like soup. Vaguely familiar buildings and random people surrounded him, but nothing was clear. Jim could hear conversations and make out some of the words, but there was a distinct lack of comprehension.
Walking down the street was simple, yet laborious. The ease with which he moved through time and space was contradictory to the effort it felt like it took to do it.
Although things were recognizable, his purpose lacked clarity and focus. There was an feeling of confidence about him, but it didn’t come from within.
Blue skies and a sun that beamed without heat gave way to a foreboding, dark chamber without reason or explanation. Monsters lurked in the shadows, but never revealed themselves. The fear he felt was more real than anything else.
Winding his way through the blackness, Jim felt a warmth surge through his groin. It made no sense, but the feeling drove him forward. His gait doubled as he stumbled on into the unknown. Turning back didn’t seem like an option.
No longer afraid, the cloudy surroundings enveloped Jim’s body and became his bed. Soft, grey light restored his vision, if only peripherally. The lone sound was a rhythmic ocean wave.
Aside from the comforting pillow encasing his body, the sense of touch was removed except for his throbbing manhood. Steady pressure kept the focus on an increasing sexual urge mounting inside him.
From out of nowhere, images began coming at him from all angles. No matter how pleasant or repulsive, the light ahead was visceral and pulling him in. The desire to consummate his urges was overwhelming.
It was almost as if… it felt like… it couldn’t be!, he consciously thought to himself inside the dream.
Nocturnal emissions generally decrease into adulthood, if not cease altogether.
Jim shuddered awake as semen filled his underwear in several large spurts.
His stomach dropped when he came to and realized where he was and what had happened.
Sleeping peacefully next to him underneath a blanket was his daughter. She had been cuddling him as they slept.
Gently, he removed her limp hand from his crotch and went to the bathroom.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/arhl8n/sophie_2_parts_iiiiii_age_implied_ddlg_inc_implied