- Thank you to EvaDeCruz for the inspiration for this story, as well as her collaboration and editing. -
*****
I was waiting at the kitchen table for Zoey's boyfriend to show up. Tonight was supposed to be "the mysterious meeting." They had something to tell me. Of course, the little bastard was ten minutes late now.
"He'll be here any minute," Zoey said, holding up her cell phone. "He said he's on his way."
"You could just tell me what Ben wants to talk to me about, and I'll act surprised when he brings it up later."
"No, Daddy," Zoey said. "This is important. We need to have this discussion together."
I sighed, looking at my watch. "He's got five more minutes."
Ben didn't need five minutes. The doorbell rang in just two. Zoey whisked off to find him, and a moment later she was back, arm in arm. I stared at them standing in front of me... a couple.
My daughter was 18 now, and old enough to make her own decisions, pick her own boyfriend, but I wasn't going to let her be a slut, not under my roof. It would be easy for her to turn into a slut too. She had her mother's slutty disposition, as well as her sexy hips, leading to her hourglass figure, with perky little tits, not that I was looking. Okay, maybe I was looking a little. She also had those come-hither hazel eyes that drew men like flies, and long flowing brown hair.
Of course, I had done one thing right with her: I had taught her to respect her daddy. She never went on dates without permission, or stayed out later than I told her, or got drunk or high with her friends. She was a good girl. I had long since spanked the fight out of her.
I made her turn down about ten boys before I finally agreed to let her date Ben. The reason was simple. He was a nerd, a small framed kid with big framed glasses and black hair that always got into his eyes. I liked him because I knew he'd never take advantage of my daughter. He'd probably cum in his pants before he ever got them off.
I stood up from my chair, towering over Ben. He was almost a foot shorter than me. I shook his hand and crushed it in my palm. "Good to see you again, Ben."
"Hi, Owen."
I raised an eyebrow. "Owen?"
"I-I mean, Mr. Owen, sir," he squeaked. "I'm sorry I'm late."
"Sit down, both of you. I want to know what this is all about." They obeyed and sat. I sat as well, putting my elbows on the table and folding my hands. "Well?"
"Um, well," Ben started. He looked at Zoey to take over.
She rolled her eyes at him. "Daddy, it's like this. We've been dating for six months, and... and... and..."
"And?" I prompted.
"And, Ben?" she said.
"Uh?" he said. "Well, we just think, like, I mean, if it's okay with you, it might be nice if we could, uh, you know?"
"Ben, I don't know. Neither of you have said anything."
"We want to kiss, Daddy!" Zoey blurted out, breathing. "It's not fair."
I looked at Ben, but he couldn't look me in the eye.
"So you want to kiss my daughter?" I asked him.
"Uh, no, sir! I mean, yes, sir. I mean, if you're okay with it."
"You're asking if I'm okay with you kissing my daughter?"
"No, no, no, we just thought, uh..."
"Daddy, I'm 18 now," Zoey said. "I should be able to kiss boys."
"Now you want to kiss boys? How many?"
"No, not boys, just one boy. Him."
Ben smiled, but my glare made him look away.
"So you two just want to kiss?" I asked.
"Yes," Ben said.
"No," Zoey answered at the same moment. "Well, yes, that."
"And?"
Zoey's cheeks reddened. "Well, I, I... Daddy, aren't I old enough to decide what I want to do with my body?"
"What?" I demanded.
"It's just, like, Ben and I care about each other a lot, and we want to take our relationship to the next level."
"Ben, let's hear from you," I said, gritting my teeth. "What do you want to do... with my daughter's body?"
"Uh, uh," he said, "well, I just want to, uh, express my affection?"
"Are you asking me or telling me?"
"Daddy, stop intimidating him!" Zoey said.
"Is that what I'm doing? He's intimidating me, asking to fuck my daughter!"
"Daddy!"
"Hey, I didn't say that!" Ben said.
"So you don't want to fuck her?" I demanded. "Good! Here I thought you had the gall to come into my house and sit at my table and ask to fuck my daughter!"
Ben looked down, but Zoey looked angry. "Maybe we do want to fuck!"
"Excuse me?" I shouted.
"I'm 18 and if I wanna fuck, I should be allowed to!"
"Stop using that word!"
"You used it first!"
"I can't believe you ambushed me with this conversation, asking my consent to have sex!"
"Well, I have to ask your consent to do anything!" she was yelling. "Daddy, can I go out with my friends? Daddy, can I go on a date with a boy? Daddy, can I kiss a boy? Daddy, can I fuck? You don't let me do anything without permission!"
"So that's what you want, is it? To be a slut? Like your mother?"
"I'm not a slut if it's just one guy!"
"So how many guys is it, Zoey?" I demanded.
"Hey, hey, listen," Ben spoke up. "Sir, I, I don't know about all that. I just thought it would be nice if we could kiss, like a normal couple."
I sat back in my chair and took a calming breath. "Kissing always leads to more."
"Well, it doesn't have to," Ben argued. "Look, what if we promised to only kiss under your supervision?"
"Supervision? You expect me to watch you make out with my daughter?" I said, my voice rising.
"No, I just meant..." He looked to Zoey for help.
"Okay, yeah," she said. "Daddy, what if we had just one kiss, right here, in front of you? It's no big deal. And I promise not to kiss when we're alone. Isn't that fair?"
I looked at Ben. "You really want to kiss my daughter? Then you have to earn it."
"How?" he asked.
"That's what you have to figure out. You're the one sitting at my table asking to kiss my daughter." I pushed my chair out. "Tell you what, you give it some thought, and get back to me next month."
"Next month?" Zoey cried.
"Wait!" Ben said before I got up. "Wait, I have an idea."
"Yes?"
"Zoey tells me you're a good card player. Is that true?"
"I suppose. Why?"
"What if we played for it?"
"Excuse me? Play for it? Play for my daughter?"
"Yes," Ben said, swallowing. "You know, just a game. If I win, I get to kiss Zoey, just once, and if you win, well, I don't know, whatever you want."
I actually laughed. "Kid, that's a hopeless bet."
"Why? I may not look it, but I'm pretty good at cards."
"Oh really?" I said, raising an eyebrow.
"Sure. Cards are just math. Fifty-two of them, only so many probabilities. I know my math."
"Winning at cards is more than math."