Dream Girl

Labor

Violet's eyes flutter open and dread quickly consumes her body.

She'd just woken up from yet another achingly realistic dream. She lay in her sheets, her chest rising quickly. The well known pound of her heart thunders in her ears with its irregular beat.

Snatching the pale blue pillow that lay under her head, Violet presses the underside to her flushed cheeks before letting a frustrated groan tumble past her lips. Violet was definitely frustrated; sexually so. She woke up practically every morning hot and bothered because Charlie had either tortured her with slow, lustful fingertips, brushing across every surface of her skin except where she needed her most, or she would only just start the "deed", and then be ripped away before anything could really happen.

A wistful sigh escaped Violet at the thought of Charlotte's long, experienced fingers running along every contour of her body, and a shiver of delight and pleasure shot through her. Only did she realize that her own fingers had traveled south when her father pushed open her door.

"Vi-"

The man stopped in his tracks at the sight of bliss and pleasure written on his daughters face.
Violet shrieks, grabbing the closest solid object, which just so happens to be her alarm clock, and hurtles it at her father.

"Dad! Get out! It's not even six o'clock yet!"

The blonde pulled her covers up and over her head as the heat of embarrassment rather than arousal surged through her like the crazed wildebeests in The Lion King. Once Violet hears the quick, clumsy shuffle of her dad leave her room and fade down the stairs, the teen hurls herself out of bed and towards the door, slamming it shut, and locking it.

"Oh my god..."

Violet groaned, lightly hitting her head against the barrier she now leaned heavily on.

After she'd calmed down, Violet grabbed a towel and headed towards her bathroom. There was no way she could go to high school smelling like sweat and lust.
She didn't even get to finish.