The Reluctant Papa

One for the Nude Day contest.

Here we have Daniel, Craig's father, struggling with his son's recent arrival at the London apartment. Daniel is also having difficulty in coping with Craig's Ukrainian girlfriend parading around in just her underwear.

I hope you enjoy the following effort. Feedback is welcome. I had a beta-reader with this, so any errors that remain aren't my fault.

...Okay, a joke, of course any glitches in the text are down to me.

Thank you for reading.

GA -- Koh Samui, Thailand -- 22nd of June 2016.

One

"We need to talk."

Craig didn't look up from his phone. He knew what was coming. With his eyes on the screen, fingers and thumbs working, he asked a distracted, "What about?"

"Will you put that bloody phone down."

Craig heard the annoyance and, sighing, complied with a show of reluctance. He placed the device on the seat alongside him and looked up at his father to say, "What's so important?"

"It's awkward."

"Well, you're the one who wants to talk. So, awkward or not..."

His father bridled, snapping an ill-tempered response. "Don't be so damned impertinent. Just remember who's giving you shelter and putting food in your belly."

"All right ... Okay." Craig raised both hands in a show of supplication. "Don't go on a mad one."

Daniel Christopher cast a disapproving look at his son. "I'll do what I want in my own bloody home. And get your feet off the coffee table. What have I said about shoes in the flat?"

Craig bit off the retort, thinking it was hardly surprising his mother had found someone else while he lifted his boots from the glass table, unlacing and pulling them free.

"Sorry," lied Craig, the footwear going down on the floor next to the sofa. "Okay, what's on your mind?" He settled back onto the couch and made a piss-take show of undivided attention, hands folded across his stomach, an ankle up on one knee as he gave his father the innocent look.

Daniel sat down in the armchair across from the sofa. He looked at his son for a moment or two, nodding, a moue of contemplation pursing his lips as he, in typical style, carefully considered his words. "You staying here was meant to be a temporary arrangement," he finally said.

"It's only been three weeks, dad," Craig put in, immediately on the defensive. "I've found a job -- you know that -- but I still need the dosh for a deposit up-front. Even if I'm gonna rent." He cast a meaningful look around the apartment. "You know how expensive it is. I need a little more time. Or," he went on, pausing while giving the old man the arched eyebrows, "if you've got some cash going spare...?"

As expected, his father guffawed. "I've got cash, but I'm not giving it to you to waste. And you don't need a place like this. How are you going to afford a flat in this block on what you're going to earn? You just need a place, Craig. There's plenty in Poplar."

Craig spread his hands in a What can I do? gesture while saying, "Poplar isn't cheap, either. This is London, isn't it? It's an expensive town. I'm kinda stuck, aren't I?"

"We'll find you somewhere," said Daniel with a dismissive wave of one hand. "And perhaps I can give you a hand with some of the start-up, but that's not really the issue I want to discuss."

Craig knew where it was going, even as he asked, "What is it, then?" he knew what was coming.

He was pleased to see the old man squirm as Daniel, still wearing the dark, sober suit he habitually wore to Patemoster Row, gruff to mask his embarrassment, said, "Well, it's Adelia, really..."

"What about her?" asked Craig, on the attack. Go on, dad, let's hear you say it.

His father's expression was pained as he said, "I came out of my bedroom this morning..."

"Yeah?" prompted Craig, drawing the word out when Daniel fell silent. He challenged his dad with a belligerent stare.

"And," Daniel sighed, "she was in the kitchen in the skimpiest of briefs."

Craig couldn't stop himself from smirking. He knew exactly which knickers his father was on about.

"And she was topless again," added his father.

To which Craig replied with a smart-arsed, "To be fair, she hasn't got much on top anyway dad..." Who needs big tits when she's got an arse like Adelia's? "...I don't see how that can be much of a bother."

"That's hardly the point!" spluttered his father, not knowing his son was winding him up. "Don't they have a sense of decorum in Ukraine?"

"Oh, come on, dad," put in Craig, spreading his hands. "She's gorgeous. Is it really so bad?"

"Jesus, Craig!" Daniel cried, jack-knifing forward to lean his elbows on his knees. He stared at his son, incredulous eyebrows arched up near the ceiling. "She's supposed to be your girlfriend. I'm your father. It isn't decent for the girl to parade about that way. Not in front of me.

"Not that it's the first time, it isn't like it hasn't happened before. I've walked into the kitchen at least three times and found her waltzing about with bugger-all on.

"And how often has she stayed since you've been living here? Seems like it's been every night for the past week. I expect you think she can move in, too? Well she can't. There isn't room. I bought this place to be near The City; I thought I'd have it to myself. I don't mind you because you're my son, but I can't have a half-naked girl running about. It isn't right, Craig."

Craig let it all wash over him before replying with a cool, "So it bothers you. I get it," his casual response designed to get the old man raging.

"Look..." His father held up a hand and closed his eyes in an effort of restraint and compromise. "I don't mind her visiting from time-to-time, and I suppose I can put up with her staying occasionally -- very occasionally, mind ... Say once a fortnight, perhaps?"

Once a fucking fortnight! Are you insane?

Sensing the time for goading his father was past, Craig nodded and said. "Okay. I hear you. I'll have a word with Adelia."

Suddenly conciliatory, surprised his son had given in so easily, Daniel said, "Sorry to bring it up, Craig. But I had to say something."

"Yeah. It's okay," his son lied. "I'll talk to her. See if I can get her to wear more clothes when she's here." But there's no way I'm keeping it down to once a fortnight. No fucking way, mate. There's no chance of that happening at all.

Daniel rose to his feet. "All right. I'll leave it there. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to get changed."

Craig was already back into his phone when Daniel left him alone in the lounge.

: i'm back, he fingered into the keypad.

-- what happened

: my father wanted to talk 2 me

-- what about

: i'll tell you when i c u

-- wen do we meet

: u busy tonight?

-- i tell you b4 I am not busy

Craig pondered for a moment, contemplating the impact of inviting Adelia to the flat.

He shook his head and muttered a curse while he typed, :meet for a drink?

-- where

: the tavern. the pub where we first met. meet you at custom house DLR

-- ok. i will be 1hr. i will tell u wen i am on train

Craig felt a frisson of excitement at the prospect of seeing Adelia again. It was always the same, the rush of anticipation, the surge of arousal. He thought about tugging his cock while indulging in a hot fantasy over the girl. He pictured her naked, her body slim and lithe, platinum blonde hair long and loose, her eyes with the slightly Asiatic uptilt at the corners, Adelia's high, Slavic cheekbones and her perpetual smirk that made her seem as though amused over some dirty secret she knew about him. He saw again the cinch of her small waist and the slight flare to her narrow hips, with that peach of a bottom so perfectly crafted.

He threw a look towards his father's room, wondering if he should go to the bathroom and work out some stress on his sudden erection. If he couldn't bring Adelia back to the flat for a fuck -- where could they go? She shared a place with four other girls, all student nurses with only two bedrooms between them. A hotel was too expensive, and he didn't have any real friends in the area who could lend him a room for an hour or two.

"Shit," muttered Craig, frustrated by his sexual dilemma. "You wanker," he added, glaring at his father's closed door. "How can you not enjoy seeing Adelia with no kit on? Are you fucking gay all of a sudden?"

Inside his head, Craig imagined Adelia in a pair of hooker shoes, the length of her legs exaggerated by the ridiculously dangerous heels.

That was it, that was all he could take. He launched out of the sofa and hurried along the short hallway towards the bathroom. He knew his father would use the en-suite in the master bedroom, so Craig had no worries about being disturbed mid-wank. Not that it would take long. Not with Adelia to use as his lewd muse.

God, the first time she'd taken off her clothes and exhibited herself...

The look in her eyes and the loosely tied blonde hair piled up all casual and messy had almost been enough in itself to have him squirt cum. Her flat chest was no disappointment at all -- the girl had so much more sexual allure than to rely on a set of big tits.

The accent was a turn-on as well, making Adelia seem exotic and different, which she was, thought Craig -- her being from Ukraine.

He closed the door and unbuckled his belt, shucking his jeans to his knees after unzipping.

"Yes, baby," he drawled, reliving the sublime pleasure at seeing the landing strip of precisely coiffed pubic hair, the folds of her labia visibly dangling while he observed Adelia from the bed, the girl walking slowly towards him with feline grace, purposely flaunting herself, knowing the effect.

Craig chugged at his length, Adelia's whisky-voice husky in his memory as he listened to her say, "You want to make the fuck? You like my body?"

"Fuck yeah," he'd said on groan, eyes moving, mercurial as his gaze slid over the girl, his fist fap-fapping his dick. "You're fucking gorgeous."

"But no boobs," said the girl with a grimace, chin on her chest as she examined her own lack of frontage.

"Yeah you have," replied Craig with a quick nod in response to her tone of regret. "They're just tiny, that's all. Anyway, you don't have to worry about that," he'd breathed while gawking in awe. "Trust me, it isn't a drama. You're just fucking perfect."

"I like you," she'd grinned, pouting down at his cock. "And I think your thing likes me, too." Adelia left it a moment or two before looking into his eyes and finishing with a seductive, "What you want to do first?"

"Do first?"

"Tak. Yes. First. You want me to suck?" Adelia had mimed the action, then smirked and canted her head to one side, standing at the side of the bed. "Or you maybe kiss my pussy?"

The way she said it - poosey - caused a rush of hot need through his core. "I'd love to lick it," he'd mumbled.

"Good answer," the girl had replied with a chuckle as she'd joined him on the bed. "You kiss me here first..." Adelia pressed her lips to his mouth, her tongue searching for Craig's.

It went on for some time, Craig's hands moving over her body as Adelia took over cranking his dick.

"I ... I can't get over how lovely you are," Craig said on a croak, his eyes down at her hand as she jacked as his cock.

"Now you kiss pussy," Adelia purred, leaving Craig's member alone.

"Oh Jesus-fuck," Craig had gurgled when Adelia lay down and spread herself wide.

*

Craig watched her exit the Dockland Light Railway car, the flash of Adelia's yellow dress and blonde hair immediately catching his eye. The pulse of arousal lubbed deep and low, a visceral need for physical contact an almost overwhelming urge when he clocked her legs. Her calves were fine sculptures, smooth and shiny and tanned as she strode towards him.

Craig gulped and forced himself to stand his ground, to not rush up to the girl and kiss her mouth.

He was already hard for Adelia as she approached, her pony-tail flicking, sunglasses masking her eyes.

"We go?" Adelia asked.

"In a sec," replied Craig, his hands going to her waist so he could hold onto the girl and kiss her lips.

"You horny!" she cried, feeling the hard-on against her thigh.

"Always for you."

Craig let her go with some reluctance. He stepped back and turned, taking Adelia's hand so they could leave the small station side-by-side.

"What we do tonight?" the girl asked. "We have a drink and we can make the fuck, yes?"

Craig winced. "We'll talk about that when we get to the pub. You look lovely, you know."

"Thank you," Adelia said, stopping so they could kiss once again. "I want to do it," she told him.

Craig tried to make light of it by saying, "You always want to do it."

"And you don't?" pouted the girl.

"Oh God, Adelia," sighed Craig while shaking his head. "Let's just get to the pub and get a drink first. Then we can talk."

*

It being a Monday evening, and still quite early, there wasn't much of a crowd.

"What'll it be?" asked the middle-aged man behind the bar. He was thick in the middle, his white shirt wrinkled from lack of attention and rigours of working behind a bar, his eyes going from Craig to the girl.

"Bottle of Becks for me," replied Craig as the barman's appreciative gaze lingered for what Craig considered to be about ten seconds too long on Adelia. "What do you want, babe?"

"I would like a white wine, please," Adelia replied, pronouncing each word deliberately, practicing her English.

"Large or small?" asked the man as he leered at the girl.

"Large, please," Adelia said, her own eye sparkling with devilment as she confronted him with her direct stare.

The barman nodded and grinned, misconstruing Adelia's teasing. "Coming right up." He turned away to open a fridge, taking out a green bottle of lager for Craig.

"Any particular flavour of wine?" asked the man, his eyes fixed on Adelia's rump as she moved towards the open patio doors. "Sav? Chardonnay?"

Craig made a choice and waited for the man to pour the wine.

"Foreign?" the man asked as he deposited the goblet onto the bar.

"Ukrainian," said Craig, mildly annoyed yet reluctant to alienate the old letch. He was in the pub often; it wouldn't be the best move to piss the bloke off. "She's a student nurse on a placement at the Queen Elizabeth over the river."

"She got any mates?" the man asked with a leer.

"I met her in here," Craig told him. "She was with some of them then."

"Musta been my day off, mores the pity. Thing is," the man continued, "a gorgeous bird like that is always a magnet for dickheads lookin' to charm their way in. You wanna be careful, mate. Don't let her outa your sight for too long. We got a bird from Poland who works in here some nights. Put together so bloody well, if you'll pardon my French. Causes her husband no end of grief. Punters trying it on all the time.

"Still, draws 'em in in droves, she does. Place gets busy when she's workin' the bar. Love to see her with her kit off. Mebbe I should suggest it, hey? It's that whatsit day on Thursday ... Nude Day. Mebbe she'd do a shift in the buff." The man grimaced and shook his head, going on to add, "Nah, never happen. Her old man'd go mental. Still, can't say I blame him..."

"What do I owe you," asked Craig, thankful the man had shut up at last.

"Eh?" the barman replied, a blank look on his face. "Oh, shit, yeah..." He tapped buttons on the small hand-held device he picked up from a shelf beneath the bar. "Nine pounds eighty-seven," he said, after squinting at the display.

"Fucking hell," muttered Craig, under his breath. "How fucking much?" He told the man to keep the change from a tenner, collected the drinks and went in search of the girl.

He found her sitting in the shade, beneath a huge umbrella at one of the wooden tables overlooking the river.

"You were long time," Adelia said, taking her wine when Craig offered her the glass.

"Bloke wouldn't shut up," Craig told her. He sat on the bench on the opposite side of the table, taking half the bottle down in a couple of swallows. "Kept on about how hot you are. Told me about some barmaid the blokes go mad over. She's from Poland or something."

"Ah, Polyachka," Adelia nodded. "I think I have seen her at work here." She sipped at her wine and looked at the river.

"He said something else, too. Something about nude day..."

Adelia's sunglasses turned square-on to Craig. "Tak," she said with a nod. "Yes. The girls have spoken about it."

"Thursday?" said Craig, unsure.

"Yes," Adelia ginned. "I have time off on Thursday. We should get nude together. You like?"

"Are you off during the day?" asked Craig, very interested in celebrating the day with the girl. "I don't start the new job until next Monday. I'm free."

Adelia's bottom lip jutted. She shook her head side-to-side. "No, I do not finish until five-thirty. But perhaps after that?"

Craig grimaced in response, then asked, "Do you have anywhere we can go?"

"Why not your apartment?"

"Ah, well, y'see..." Craig wished he could see Adelia's eyes to better gauge her response. "Well, it's my dad. He's got the arse."

Adelia's expression was one of confusion. "Got what?"

"The arse, you know ... The hump ... He's unhappy about something."

"I don't understand," said the girl, brow corrugating as she frowned at Craig.

"Okay, listen." Craig reached for Adelia's hand. "You know I'm staying with my dad until I find a flat, yes?"

The girl nodded.

"Right, well, the thing is he isn't too happy with how much time you've been spending there with me. He's not too impressed with us being together all night."

Adelia tutted and did the eye-roll behind her sunglasses.

"Yeah, I know," Craig put in, tone ingratiating to show they were on the same team. "He's a miserable bastard. Always been the same. Used to boss me around all the time when we all lived out in Surrey."

Puzzled, Adelia said, "Surrey?"

"It's a county, a place. It's where I grew up. Not too far away as it happens. We lived in a nice big house in a town called Farnham. We should go there sometime. You'd like it, I'm sure.

"Anyway, my dad was always bossing me and my brothers about. We had jobs to do, you know -- chores. He used to moan like fuck if the bins weren't put out at the end of the drive, or brought back in when the bin-men had been. There was car-washing to do, work around the house, keeping our rooms tidy -- that sort of thing."

Unimpressed by the whining, Adelia sneered and said, "It doesn't sound like such a very hard life that you had. You make it sound like you were the slave."

"No, no," said Craig, quickly shaking his head as he released the girl's hand. "I'm not complaining ... Well, I suppose I am," he added, after a pause, "but only about my father. He's the one with the problem. He's pissed off about you staying over so much and ... and..."

"And what?" Adelia removed her sunglasses and narrowed her eyes while looking at Craig.

"He's crazy, Adelia. The blokes bonkers. It seems like he doesn't approve of you walking around without any top on."

"Ah," said the girl, "I understand now. Maybe he is right? Maybe he is uncomfortable because I don't wear the clothes."

"You had knickers on, apparently," grinned Craig.

"What would he do if he looked at my pussy?" Adelia asked, returning the grin.

"I dunno. Blow a gasket?"

"I don't know what is this 'gasket'."

"Doesn't matter. The thing is we might be stuck for places to go."

"For the sex?" Adelia sipped more wine and awaited Craig's response with her eyes set on his face.

"Yeah, for the sex," he replied. "We might be stuck for somewhere to make the fuck," added Craig, playfully mocking the girl's limited command of English.