My name is Monica. I want to tell you an amazing story about an amazing man. His name is Paul. At least that's what everyone else calls him. I simply call him Daddy.
For the first eight years of my life, I didn't even know he existed. My incubation unit left Daddy when I was a toddler and took me all over the country. We went on a trip to Las Vegas when I was eight. She left me alone in hotel rooms while she had fun with strange men and gambled away all her money. We were dirt poor, so I wasn't sure where the money came from on that trip.
We came back from Las Vegas on Christmas Eve. On that day, she stopped at a bank to use the restroom.
As I waited for her to return, I overheard a man having an argument with the bank teller. Evidently, he had discovered that someone had stolen his identity and his money and ran off to Las Vegas.
I was only seven at the time, but looking back now, I wonder. Could it have been my so-called "mother"? Was she capable of something like that?
Shortly after, the police came and tried to find my incubation unit. She was nowhere to be found. I never saw her again.
The next day was Christmas. I sat alone at the police department, waiting. I cried all day, scared. Terrified.
That afternoon, a man in his early 40s came to pick me up. I had never seen him before. He was very clean-cut and extremely handsome behind those horn-rimmed glasses that he sported. He was very nerdy looking, no doubt, but there was something about him...
He smiled at me and said, "let's go, sweetheart."
I asked him who he was and he told me that he was my Daddy.
We flew back to Tennessee, where he lived in a big beautiful house on several acres of land. He lived there alone. My brothers and sister had grown and were on their own.
Daddy told me that he couldn't do anything to fix Christmas, but said he would make it up to me on my upcoming eighth birthday.
He wasn't prepared to raise me. He had lived on his own for so many years, had a well-paying job and nobody to worry about but himself. On my 8th birthday party, he had invited all of the kids in the neighborhood. Before they arrived, however, three of Daddy's buddies dropped in. That was where things got tense.
As Jimmy, his wife Allison, and Ryan entered the house, they made a couple of inappropriate and crude comments. Then, to their surprise, saw me sitting there.
Daddy just glared at them. But with a smile on his face, he invited them out to the porch.
"Okay, guys," he said, "this is how it's gonna be: no smoking, no drinking, no weed, and no cussing or filthy talk around my daughter...you got that?"
"Daughter?" Jimmy asked.
"That's right," Daddy said, "I've done some bad shit, and some of it with you guys. But I have a chance to be a good dad and role model for her. I don't want her turning out like that cunt I married who dumped her off at a bank and left her. I have a real chance to make a difference in my little girl's life. So if you're going to behave yourselves, I'd like you to stay and get to know her. But if you've come here to set a bad example to my kid, I'd like you to leave."
He raised me under extremely strict rules, but also by example. He was a Christian man and heavily involved with his church. He was very moral and exceedingly protective of me. But there was one thing that I always thought was very mysterious: His bedroom door was always locked and I was never allowed anywhere near it. Throughout my childhood, I was never allowed so much as one peek of the inside of that room.
Once, I tried to pick the lock and Daddy caught me. That was a mistake.
He brought out a paddle and told me that he was going to give me a spanking, and that it would hurt him more than it would hurt me. After receiving a reddened bottom, I never again gave into the temptation to go in that room. I just accepted that it was off limits.
Otherwise, Daddy and I got along beautifully during my childhood. During my teen years, however, I was tempted a few times to stray from the wholesome child he had raised since eight.
One day, I dyed my hair pink and came home wearing makeup. Daddy was livid. He wasted no time cutting off every lock of my hair and telling me that I had to go to school like that. It was humiliating.
Nevertheless, I never disobeyed Daddy ever again. He was a soft and kind man, very pleasant and warm. But piss him off and he was tough as nails. He had a dark side that rarely came out. But when it did, watch out!
My first love was a boy named Brian. He was the stereotypical bad boy. Every girl loves the bad boys, and I'm no exception. Br, ian was three years older than me, he rode a Harley, he partied, and he was suspended from school on what seemed a weekly basis. He had a short temper and liked to fight. But he was so damn sexy. I especially loved his tattoos. But when Daddy found out, the shit hit the fan.
Daddy invited Brian to come over for a little talk. He told Brian that he refused to have his daughter hang around with a thug who will someday end up in prison. He said that he's tried very hard to be a good role model and raise me right. He called Brian trash and told him never to call or come around me again.
A couple years later, he dated a woman who seemed to really take to me. It was the first time I had ever seen him have a girlfriend. Daddy had always been too involved with work or church to have any kind of romance. Her name was Tanya and she was just barely four years older than me.
Tanya and I became fast friends. One night, we engaged in a little girl talk, I asked her what Daddy's bedroom looked like. Remember, I had never seen it.
"Honey, it's not a bedroom. It's a party house!" she said.
She told me that it's a huge room with a bar and a pool table and a jacuzzi. There is a Harley Davidson next to a fireplace and a gun rack...and lots and lots of alcohol. She says they party a lot when they're in there and Daddy often invites friends over. She says for 51 years old, he sure parties like a frat boy.
Holy shit! My very square, straight-laced father is a closet bad boy!
Then she started telling me all about the amazing sex they have together. I was thinking, "Do I really want to hear this?"
She went on to describe how he touches her in all the right places and makes her orgasm over and over again. I couldn't believe I was actually getting turned on!
My warm friendship with Tanya started turning to jealousy. I so wanted to see that side of Daddy.
I reminded Daddy that I was about to turn 18 and would like to come to one of those soirees in his room. He was furious that I even knew about them. I told him that Tanya let me in on the secret. That was the end of Tanya. They broke up very shortly after that.
One night, as I lay in bed, I could hear the faint sound of country music coming from the general direction of Daddy's bedroom. I went to knock on the door.
A young man around 20, drunk off his ass, answered.
"Hi, Babe!" he said. "Come on in!"
Just then, Daddy pulled the kid away and came out. I think it was the first time I had ever seen him without his trademark Clark Kent glasses. Daddy had the most beautiful baby blue eyes and if he wasn't my father, I thought...damn! Nevertheless, he reeked of alcohol and was clearly drunk. At that moment, he was a man I didn't recognize.
"Sweetheart," he said, gently touching my butt, "why don't you go on back to bed? We'll try to keep it down."
I smiled.
"Okay, Daddy. Good night."
He kissed me on the lips and quickly returned to his party.
That night, I lay in bed fantasizing...about Daddy! The thought of him fucking my 18 year old pussy made me wet. I had never had sex before. How could I have such hot feelings about Daddy? But that night, I knew what I wanted: I wanted Daddy to be my first.
The next morning, Daddy had breakfast ready and called me downstairs to join him. He was back to his old nerdy self: horn-rimmed glasses, plaid shirt, dress pants-- all dressed up and ready for a long day at the office.
I decided to test him. I stripped completely naked and put on a bath robe.
I went downstairs, my hair a mess. I wanted to look like I hadn't slept.
"Good morning, Daddy," I groaned.
"Sweetheart," he said, "about last night..."
At that moment, I pretended to "accidentally" drop my bath robe. I was standing there completely nude-- my breasts and pussy clearly on display for him to see. He was shocked.
"Sweetheart, uh..."
I just stood there and looked at him.
"You act like you've never seen a naked woman before," I said, putting my bath robe back on.
"Well, it's just that you're..."
"What?"
He smiled.
"I don't know...," he said.
I smiled back at him.
