Spread Wide For Daddies🫦💦💦

Chapter 16

Jenner’s POV

Being a pretty and young ass woman in the midst of old, horny men is like being the only flower in a garden of hungry weeds.

And honestly?

I kinda liked that.

Growing up without a mom and only with a stepdad who was always around his business friends two four seven might have grown on me in a very bad way.

Then the stares started feeling less like background noise and more like hands already on my skin.

Collin’s three closest associates had been coming to the house for years. Victor with the silver hair at his temples and the way his eyes always dropped a second too long when I walked past. Marcus who never bothered hiding the way his gaze dragged over my legs and Hale who spoke the least but somehow looked the hungriest. They were all older, successful, powerful in the same quiet way Collin was. Men who had built things and broken people and still sat at our dinner table like they belonged there.

I used to pretend I did not notice. After Mom died the house felt too big and too quiet, and Collin filled the empty spaces with work and those three men. I told myself the lingering looks were just leftover sympathy. Poor Jenner, lost her mother, needs father figures. That story held up for a while.

It stopped holding the night I wore the black dress that barely covered the tops of my thighs and caught Victor staring straight down the front of it while Collin talked about quarterly numbers. Victor did not look away when our eyes met. He just kept staring like he was already imagining what the rest of me looked like under the fabric. My pulse jumped so hard I felt it between my legs.

After that I started testing them.

I stopped wearing bras around the house when they were over. Thin shirts that showed the exact shape of my nipples when the air conditioning kicked on. Short shorts that rode up when I sat on the edge of the kitchen counter with my legs swinging. I made sure to lean over the table for things that did not need leaning. I held eye contact until one of them had to clear his throat and look somewhere safer.

Marcus was the first to touch me on purpose. We were in the hallway after dinner. Collin and the others were still in the dining room. Marcus stepped close under the excuse of letting me pass and his hand brushed the bare skin just under the hem of my shirt. Not accidental. His fingers stayed a second longer than they should have, warm and rough, and when I looked up at him he did not apologize. He just looked at my mouth and said, low enough that only I could hear it, “You keep dressing like that and someone is going to forget you’re Collin’s girl.”

I should have stepped back. Instead I stayed right there and let the heat of his hand soak into my skin. “Maybe I want someone to forget.”

His eyes darkened. He dragged his thumb once across the soft skin of my waist and then walked away like nothing had happened. My cunt was wet for the rest of the night.

Hale caught me in the laundry room two days later. I was folding towels in nothing but an oversized shirt that belonged to Collin. Hale stepped inside, closed the door halfway, and just looked at me. The shirt had slipped off one shoulder. The bottom hem only reached the tops of my thighs. I knew he could see I was not wearing anything underneath.

“You’re playing a dangerous game little girl,” he said.

I kept folding, slow and deliberate, letting the shirt ride higher every time I reached for another towel.

“And am I winning?”

He stepped closer. Close enough that I could smell his cologne and the faint whiskey on his breath. His hand landed on the washing machine beside my hip, caging me in without quite touching.

“You have no idea what men like us would do to a girl who offers herself like this.”

I turned my face up to his. “Then maybe one of you should show me.”

Hale’s jaw flexed. For a second I thought he was going to kiss me or bend me over the machine right there. Instead he dragged his eyes down my body one more time, slow and thorough, and left. The door clicked shut behind him. I had to press my thighs together to keep from touching myself in the middle of the laundry room.

Victor was more patient. He waited until a late meeting at the house when Collin stepped out to take a call. The other two were in the study. Victor found me in the kitchen getting water. He came up behind me and reached past my shoulder for a glass, pressing the full front of his body against my back for three long seconds. I felt how hard he was. Thick and obvious against the curve of my ass.

“Collin still thinks you’re just the grieving daughter,”

he murmured near my ear. “The rest of us can see exactly what you are.”

I pushed back against him just enough to feel that hard ridge grind between my cheeks. “And what am I?”

“A little tease who is going to end up on her knees for men old enough to be her father if she keeps this up.”

The words should have shamed me. They only made my nipples tighten and my cunt clench around nothing. I turned my head so my lips almost brushed his jaw. “Maybe that is exactly where I want to end up.”

Victor’s hand settled on my hip and squeezed hard enough to leave a mark. Then Collin’s voice came from the hallway and Victor stepped away like the perfect gentleman again.

I went to bed that night so wet it was almost embarrassing. I slid two fingers inside myself and fucked them slowly while I thought about all three of them looking at me like that. While I thought about Collin still treating me like something fragile and precious, completely blind to the fact that his closest friends were already half hard every time I walked into a room.

The next evening they were all there again for dinner. Collin sat at the head of the table talking business while I sat in a skirt short enough that I had to keep my knees pressed together or risk flashing everyone. I did not keep them pressed together the whole time.

I felt their eyes like physical weight. Victor was across from me. Marcus to my right. Hale at the far end. Every time I shifted or reached for something their gazes followed. Collin never noticed. He still smiled at me the same soft way he had since Mom died, still asked if I needed anything, still saw the girl who used to cry into his shirts instead of the woman who was deliberately getting wet under his table.

After dinner I stood up and stretched, arms over my head, shirt lifting high enough to show a strip of bare stomach. Three pairs of eyes locked onto the skin. I held the stretch longer than necessary, then walked out of the room with a little extra sway in my hips.

In the hallway I paused and looked back. All three of them were still watching the doorway I had just gone through. The hunger on their faces was no longer subtle. It was open and dark and patient.

That was the moment it clicked.

They did not just want to look. They wanted to use me. They wanted the pretty young thing in their friend’s house on her knees or on her back or bent over whatever surface was closest. And the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to let them. I wanted to be the secret they shared. I wanted the weight of older hands and the filthy things men like that would say while they took what I offered. I wanted Collin to keep seeing the daughter while his closest friends ruined the woman.

I went upstairs, closed my bedroom door, and stripped. Naked in front of the mirror I looked at my own body the way they looked at it. Full tits, hard nipples, the soft curve of my stomach, the bare mound of my pussy already shiny with want. I slid a hand down and rubbed slow circles over my clit while I imagined all three of them walking through the door right then.

“Soon,” I whispered to my reflection.

I meant it. The stares had gone on long enough. The accidental touches had stopped being accidental. The next time one of them put his hands on me I was not going to step away. I was going to open my legs and let the hungry weeds finally have their flower.