Disclaimer: Every character depicted in this story is at least 18 years of age or older. Furthermore every character in this story is fictitious, any similarities to persons living or dead is completely coincidental. If you are offended by incest, nonconsensual sex and/or dialog which could be deemed demeaning please do not read this story. For everyone else, please enjoy and feel free to provide me with constructive criticism. Thank You!
I remember the excitement I felt. Being eighteen, it was going to be my first real date with an older guy. It was to be a date where my parents or his wouldn't be driving us to our destination. It was to be a date where we wouldn't have to hide under the bleachers of the football field to have sex. It was to be a date where I wouldn't have to worry about getting pregnant thanks to the birth control patch on my right hip. It was to be a date with a real man with a real career, a real nice car and an apartment of his own.
At school I was often referred to as a slut. The term was demeaning and it hurt to hear it sometimes but I had grown to accept it. After all I did enjoy sex, a lot. I also know how attractive I am, my friends and boyfriends always told me I look like a petite Miranda Kerr. I love to flaunt my body with sexy skimpy clothes because I love the attention it gets me. For this date I bought a hot new tight white mini skirt that was low on the hips and short on my legs. I have a small ass and relatively narrow hips so the skirt fit perfectly without riding up in the back. It was such that there was a hint of the very top and very bottom of my small tight butt cheeks. My black G-string was visible through the material and above the waist band of the skirt. I matched it with a tight white tank top and a lightweight mid-waist pale pink cardigan. I had my manicure and pedicure done in pink to match the cardigan. I didn't were a bra, my boobs are small and firm enough that I didn't need one, but also I enjoyed knowing that men could see them through the white shirt. Actually another reason I went braless was because my boobs were a bit swollen and tender from the birth control which made my normal sized bra's uncomfortable. I tried to go with simple accessories to keep the attention on my body and face. Sparkly white gold earrings set with a dozen tiny diamonds with a matching ring I wore on my right ring finger to help draw his attention to the exposed patch on my hip. My pretty high heeled sandals were a color called Silver Snow and they matched perfectly with the jewelry I sported. I carried a small white coach clutch bag with only the basics to touch up my makeup, a smoky dark eye to make my big pretty blues standout combined with blush and lipstick to match the cardigan. I left my long brunette hair natural looking, but that's not to mean I didn't spend hours getting it to look exactly how I wanted.
When I looked at the clock I was ready a half hour early. That was rare of me to be ready early and I chalked it up to my excitement. I walked down to the kitchen to get a water bottle from the fridge (Proper hydration is the most important thing for maintaining smooth clear skin) and my dad was sitting in there looking over the manual for the new microwave we got. The light from the setting sun was bursting through the window illuminating me like a spotlight as I entered. I could feel my dad's eyes on me the instant the warmth of the sun light washed over me. I knew my dad was a pervert, he never objected to my skimpy outfits like most dads would and I constantly caught him looking at my body in ways that no father should. Sometimes he wouldn't even bother to avert his eyes when I caught him.
It's hard for me to explain the feelings I have with regards to my father's attraction to me. I tried, for the most part, to ignore it. After all he was a good father; he made sure I did well in school and he patiently taught me how to drive. He was always there when I needed him weather it was calming me after a nightmare as a kid, or as a teenager picking me up from an out of control party at 3 in the morning when he had to be up to go to the gym before work at 5. He did it all without complaint, so I loved him dearly. Though sometimes he was so blatant with the way he stared at me and smirked that it did make me feel a little weird and uncomfortable. Though in all honesty there was a part of me that was flattered to get such attention from my own father and without a doubt it made me feel pretty and confident in my appearance. It also made me feel dirty in a good way and a bad way. Dirty because my ignorance of it was his enabler and I never once voiced my discomfort. Dirty because I let him look at me and it exhilarated me to be such a sexual freak. Dirty because it made me feel like the slut everyone said I was. It was all a big confused mess in my head and I couldn't be sure if I liked it, disliked it or both.
"What's that sticker on you for?" His tone was mildly sarcastic and a sly smile was plastered on his rugged handsome face.
He obviously knew what it was since he'd seen them on me for the past couple months but he wanted to hear me say it. My response was a sigh and silence as I leaned against the kitchen sink drinking my water.
I was looking up and off to the side at nothing in particular letting my dad drink in the sight of me when he spoke again after a minute or two, "It's interesting how you chose to show it off in such a manner..." I looked to him. His eyes were fixed on my hips and an expression of mild distaste on his face, "As if it's an advertisement."
"You don't like it there?" My voice was soft and meeker than I intended.
Dad twisted his mouth and shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't say that. It's actually quite sexy." He Smiled. "It's just that I always found it more exciting when there was some level of risk involved."
He was being exceptionally outgoing with his choice of conversation and I was taken aback by it a little bit. I'm sure it was obvious to him that I was a very sexually active young woman, though this was the first time he ever spoke of it so nonchalantly and bluntly. It was also the first time he used the word "sexy" to describe me. I tried to ignore the tingles it gave me down below.
"Yeah well I'd rather not get pregnant this young like you and mom did." I realized I sounded very nasty, more so than I wanted. Perhaps an inadvertent defense to the way he was making me feel.
Dad chuckled and took it in stride, "I never regretted having you. You know that. Hmph, You're the single most amazing thing in my life..." His eyes followed the curves of my body all the way down to my sexy heeled sandals, then slowly back up to meet my eyes. I know that he knew that I knew what he was thinking and it made him grin with pleasure that I allowed it. "And I suppose my ahh... my other feelings for you, probably aren't a secret any more. Are they?"
I felt my face flush and my blood begin to course through my veins like a freight train. I didn't know what to say. I never thought he would ever admit it so openly to me. This changed everything. The whole dynamic between us would be different because, if I let him look at me not, it was no longer an innocent tease but rather an open invitation. I was always disgusted with myself when I found pleasure in his gaze, it was always such a mixed up batch of emotions I almost couldn't handle it. But now! Out of nowhere it was all out in the open. It felt so much more real I thought I might faint from the dizzying whirl of motley feelings. Without a word I turned and looked out the window. My mother was sunbathing in her bikini over by the pool. The sun a deep orange now half hidden behind the tall pine trees at the back of our yard and the sky was all shades of pink, blue and orange with little wisps of white clouds here and there. It was beautiful and serene. It distracted and calmed me for the moment.
