His eyes. My father's eyes dipped down from mine to my chest as we spoke. There was no mistaking what had happened. God, why had I chosen this dress? I guess I had wanted to look sophisticated. I'd noticed dad's tastes since the divorce. I guess I knew what he liked. I suppose I can't complain if he reacted. I had accepted his offer of dinner without a second thought after all.
I had tried on most of my wardrobe in a panic two hours earlier. Discarding ones that were too plain, girly or everyday. I wanted to look every bit the 22 year old woman I was - curves and all. I pulled the eventual winner, a floral print jersey mini dress, over my head, and smiled at myself in the mirror. I didn't even register how low cut it was, until the moment I caught my silver fox of a father catching a glimpse as we talked.
He had suggested pushing the boat out at The Metropol out of guilt, I had supposed. I hadn't seen him all year. He worked so hard flying round the world. New York. Tokyo. London. All the money, of course, meant he was used to luxury and kept himself in incredibly good shape. There was no denying that.
We continued to make small talk. As daddy and daughters do. I updated him on my work, he was very sweet and kind about it. There was an embarrassing silence when he asked about boyfriends, but again, he might light of it. He is a gentleman, is my father. But through it all, I couldn't shake the sense he had noticed my breasts. The shape of them, the cleavage, oh god, the hint of a hardening nipped through the fabric of my dress. This wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to be happening.
He poured me more of the expensive red wine he had ordered. Was it to help me relax? I didn't question his motives too much and drank it quickly. Another giggle from him. He suggested I slowed down, calling me kitten which went straight to me heart. I was his kitten. I always had been.
His hazel eyes matched mine across the table. He proposed a toast. To us. To the future. To our special relationship. Special? He had never said that before. I was totally confused, by my thoughts and feelings now. There was no question I felt a real woman. Sitting opposite a man who seemed to like what he was seeing.
I put my glass down. It had hit me quite hard. I asked daddy what was special. He smiled and told me he had just realised what a wonderful woman I had grown into. It was definitely, positively flirtatious. My own father. I was appalled. Briefly. It didn't stop me sitting back in my seat though. Letting him see more of me. I wanted his gaze. I let myself enjoy the moment. I felt inhibitions slide away. My body reacting almost separately from my mind. It felt arousing to be appreciated by a man I had always loved.
He shifted in his six foot one frame in his seat. It looked half his age and super fit in his expensive suit. After dessert, we should head to the suite he had arranged. There was a private bar, in the penthouse. We could continue chatting. Alone, with him. Now. Good god. I said yes. Of course I said yes.
We stood close in the mirrored elevator. If anything, he now had a better view. My 36 DD breasts, sculpted by the expensive bra I had chosen, formed a deep valley. I could sense him taking it in. My pert ass brushed his legs. I thought I might faint. That would at least make me fall into his arms. I was lost and I knew it. Heat and wetness. Was dad feeling the same? Cock hardening? I couldn't get the thought out of my mind as we reached higher and higher floors. The elevator taking an age.