This is a story of fiction. I do not condone behaviors described in this story. It's sole purpose is entertainment.
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Life is funny and weird sometimes. You can live a good, normal life, then make a spur-of-the-moment decision that changes everything. Why you made the decision doesn't make sense to you, but it changes you and the people you care about the most. I am unsure if it was a good decision or a bad decision. I don't know if I had a do-over or if I would change it either. Anyway, here is my story.
Let me start with who I am. My name is Julie, and I am twenty-five years old. I live in a quiet suburban town that I grew up in. My mom and dad live next door to me with my little brother, Tommy, in his senior year of high school. When I was younger, my parents had built an addition to our home for my grandmother. It allowed her to keep her independence while my parents could care for her as she got older. My grandmother passed away when I was in my junior year of high school, and my parents couldn't bring themselves to rent the apartment. When I graduated the following year, my parents talked me into taking over the apartment to keep me from moving away for college. What they didn't know was I had no intention of moving away. Also, I wasn't convinced that college was for me. I liked living at home. I had no desire to miss my family, and I loved watching football on Sundays with my dad. We were all in a fantasy football league and were extremely competitive.
Thanks to my parents, my upbringing was normal. I was in no hurry to leave. Moving into the apartment next door was a perfect scenario for me.
I helped my father do the updates to the apartment before moving in. I enjoyed learning how to do repairs and updates with my father. He wanted to ensure his daughter would never depend on a man for anything, so he always involved me on repairs around our property and our cars.
Once I moved into the apartment, I decided to attend a local community college and got a job at a convenience store. Two years later, I got an associate's degree in business administration and was already the manager of the store.
Here I am, seven years later, enjoying my simple life. I worked forty hours a week. I had no rent, kids, or outrageous debt, so money wasn't an issue. I could go out with my friends when they had free time from marriage and child responsibilities.
I continued the tradition of watching football with my dad on Sundays and spending time with my brother, Tommy. My mom and I had a great relationship even though she wanted me to get married and have kids. Don't get me wrong; there were times when I wished I had someone to come home to. I would watch my friends with their kids and think about being a parent, but I never met anyone who I loved enough to want to spend the rest of my life with. Or maybe I was too selfish to give up my quiet, comfortable life.
I dated occasionally. I wasn't against finding someone. To be honest, I am not a bad looking woman. I have a cute face, light red hair, and light blue eyes, which I have been told are mesmerizing. I do not have a Barbie Doll build, but I have curves. I am a thick woman. Thick thighs, wide Irish hips, with a round, thick bum. My waist is appropriate for the thickness of my lower body. If I had to point to a negative feature of my body, it would be my b-cup breasts. I never complained about my breast size because I was comfortable with the rest of my features. We can't all be perfect, right?
This brings me to the point where I made a decision that changed everything. As I have said, my father and I watch football together every Sunday. Tommy stopped watching it with us last year. He preferred to hang out with his friends. My mother never watched with us. As a matter of fact, she hated that I liked football so much. Last season, my father and I decided to watch the games in my apartment. This made my mother happy because she could enjoy a quiet day while Dad and I could watch the game in peace. We would prep our food early in the morning, and by one o'clock, we'd be ready for the games to start. Typically, we would sit on the couch while hooting and hollering until the games ended around seven-thirty. Before the game began, I would change into PJs, and we'd check our fantasy football standings to see who was ahead for the day. I usually settle in for the night after the night game begins. It started innocently during a night game midway through the football season. I had changed into my typical shorts and tank top. When I returned to the couch, I put my feet on my father's lap, which has been routine throughout my life.
"Dad," I asked in my whiney voice.
"Yes, Julie," he replied sarcastically.
Still using my whiney voice, I asked, "Will you rub my feet, please?"
My father gave me a phony, annoyed look. "You are a brat. You know that, right?"
I gave my dad a big, flirty smile and teased him, "I will make it up to you, Daddy. I promise! I will owe you." This behavior between the two of us was normal. I realize that if people were watching us behave like this, they would think it was weird, but it is how we were with each other. We only behaved this way when we were in situations like we were in now.
As he rubbed my feet, he said, "You already owe me. I'm saving up all your IOUs to cash them in all at once."
