It was my eighteenth birthday with no good reason to celebrate because my life had become nothing more than a twenty four seven caregiver to my father who had been stricken with cancer. My life still wasn't that great even before that. My mom died when I was twelve. I raised my little brother because my father was always at work. Then he couldn't work at all, he was so sick.
It's the medicine they were pumping into his body. He was not handling it very well and it had made him very weak. He hadn't taken a shower in three days because he said the feeling of water on his skin was very uncomfortable. Almost like it burned. But I couldn't stand it anymore, so I helped him to the bathroom.
"No!" he whined, then almost cried leaning his back on the wall to hold himself up. He was frightened such that I felt bad for him.
"Dad, you need a shower!" I pleaded.
I swear, the Chemo has had an effect on his brain too. He's emotional as hell all of the time. "Please, Dad."
"No, you get in the shower."
I would have if I thought it would coax him in there too.
My father is forty years old. He is very successful and is every bit as handsome as George Cluny. He even looks a little bit like him.
My girlfriends melt around Bob, my dad, whenever they're near him. Then they stopped coming around completely. Even Johnny didn't want to hang out anymore. It figures. I give Johnny my heart, soul and virginity and he dumps me. I'm glad we only had sex once if you want to call it that. I can't blame my friends though. It's very awkward around here now and I can't leave the house very often.
Little Bobby Junior is self absorbed as any twelve year old should be. I did my best to keep him from the messy disease my dad was suffering. I love BJ with all my heart. He's a good kid, too.
"Daddy," I said with a sweet voice, walked up close and unbuttoned the top button of the shirt that he had been wearing to match his pair of boxers. And the slippers that kept his feet warm, were all too much for me to bare. I wanted my dad back. My sexy dad. My healthy dad.
"Kimmy, you don't understand how it feels."
"Is it the heat, Dad, cuz I can make the water cool so it feels nice," I tried to sound convincing as I ran my fingertips upsidedown on his chest.
He squirmed like he got the heebie-geebies. "No. Don't, baby. I need to sit down," he cried.
"Let's get your clothes off and sit you on the side of the tub. I'll put a towel down."
"I'm embarrassed, Kimmy. I don't want you to see me naked," he complained, stressing on the word naked. He leaned past me for the toilet, managing to seat himself while I assisted.
"Seriously? That's your problem?" I asked. "Dad, I don't care about that. It's silly. I want to help you."
"I have to pee," he said and scrunched his cheek up to his eye like he was a burden.
"Can you get your shorts down?"
"Yeah, but you have to get out."
"I don't think so. I'll turn around."
"Then turn around."
"Fine!" I retorted.
I rolled my eyes and did as he said with my hands on my hips. I heard him struggle and squeak his butt on the toilet seat then it was silent. Finally, a trickle echoed the bathroom. I peeked over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't going to fall. I got a glimpse of his crotch but his hand was covering his penis.
Not sure if I was being queer or what but I wanted to see it. He's got a great body at forty and I've become infatuated with him as I've grown. I imagined the disease was going to destroy this gorgeous man eventually. I shivered.
Since my mom died, I've had to take her place. Deep down I want to. I want to be there for my dad. Mostly out of love as a daughter but part of me, a little secret part of me for the past few of years, has wanted to satisfy him like my mother use to.
Sometimes, I know Dad is needy but he has nobody. I've caught him on the computer a few times looking at porn. I played it off like I didn't see anything. It took him a while just to get over Mom and he's gone out with a couple of women but I don't think he's had sex since Mom.
I remember even when I was little, I would jump and play on the sofa with him. I'd be so curious about his privates, accidently pressing on it or resting my head there. He never, ever tried anything inappropriate. Though as I got older and started to get boobs and a figure, I caught him checking me out. More so, after Mom died. I didn't mind at all.
Our relationship is well balanced. We get along, fight, use sarcasm, joke and share problems. The only difference between me and Mom is that I'm not his lover. I've thought about it lots of times. I've masturbated to visions of my dad.
I remember thinking, this poor man is in for the fight of his life. He's a winner though. He'll beat this, I prayed.
Dad leaned to pull his shorts up and lost his balance falling forward. I caught him just as I broke the weird trance I was in. His head almost hit the marble floor. It took all my might but I pulled him back up.
He hurried to cover his crotch but I got a clear shot of my dad's slung penis. It's darker down there but he keeps his pubic hair trimmed nicely below his tan lines. His dong is light brown in color and lightens near the tip. I don't know why, but I was so anxious and thrilled to get a look at it.
I leaned to make sure he was okay, rubbing the top of his head and tousling his hair.
"You're so good to me, Kimmy," he said with gratitude. He put his arm around my waist and pulled me close. His face sideways on my belly. A small rush went down to my pelvis.
"Because I love you, Daddy," I said sweetly. "Now, will you please let me wash you with a cloth at least. You don't have to move. Don't be embarrassed. I'll wipe up the water after I get you back to the couch."
"You don't have to do this."
"I want to. I want you to feel clean and fresh. Look. I'll use the little jug."
I reached under the vanity and grabbed it. It's a little watering jug with a spout that we keep there to clean ourselves after we pee or poop. Most people don't do this and it's why they smell. My parents taught us to do this as children.
I ran the sink to lukewarm while keeping my right leg close to balance Dad. I soaked a clean washcloth and rubbed a bar of soap a few times on it then set it and the jug on the vanity for him to see.
Dad's shorts were still bunched at his ankles. I leaned down to sneak them out from under his feet hoping he wouldn't put up a fight and he didn't. His eyes were closed for the most part. I stood in front of him and unbuttoned the rest of his shirt. I had to help him sneak his arms out then tossed it on the floor. I squatted so we were eye to eye. He looked at me.
"Get over it. Okay?" I said huskily.
"Fine. Have your way with me," he chuckled as did I.
Alas, I was going to explore the curiosities I've always had for my dad and make him all nice and clean, too.
"Now just close your eyes and relax," I said softly.
I picked up the spout and poured little bits of water onto his head and rubbed it into his hair. Too much of the water was spilling on the floor.
"Dad, if you move your hands, most of the water will flow right into the toilet," I proved to be right as he rested his hands on his thighs, reluctantly. His privates unveiled and water ran over his penis and dripped from its tip.
"This isn't so bad, Kimmy."
"I told you. If you would just learn to trust me sometimes."
