The summer has always been my favourite time of year, so when I yawned and stretched out under the white sheets of my double bed, I was happy to see the sun rising under a cloudless sky outside. The day ahead was empty, free, untouched.. virgin like my young body.
I showered and dressed, first in lacy white French knickers and matching bra, and then choosing a white sun-dress to match. Twisting my blonde hair into pigtails and securing them with a ribbon, I looked at my reflection and smiled. After a year on the running team of my local school I had finally reached the end of my education in good shape, just barely 5ft tall and 98lbs there was a hint of curves in all the right places, just womanly enough to show my age, but young enough to retain a look of innocence. One last glance in the mirror and I went downstairs into the kitchen to fix some breakfast for my father and I.
Mother was out of town for the week, leaving me and my older brother, and my dad alone in the country house I grew up in. My brother and I had been spoiled a little, and grown up confident and happy from our privileged childhood. We even joked about the times we were spanked for being naughty even though at the time we swore never to forgive daddy for being so mean. All of that was behind us now (I thought!).
"Morning, dad!" I grinned across the marble-topped table in the kitchen at my father.
"Good morning darling", Dad was reading the paper, stroking his greying beard as he viewed me over the top of his reading glasses. My father was a senior doctor in a private hospital, and looked every bit the part. "What have you got planned today? I thought we could play a little tennis this afternoon, if you're not busy?"
"Sure, dad. That would be great"
I sat down opposite him and took a strawberry from the bowl on the table. I took a bite and a trail of juice sneaked it's way down my chin. "oops!"
Dad looked up at me and laughed. "Come here, sweetheart, I'll wipe that off for you"
Jumping up from my seat, I padded barefoot around the table to sit on his knee and let him wipe it off with a finger... Dad used to do that all the time when I was little.
"oh – I forgot to ask. How was your birthday party?"
(I turned 18 just a few days ago, and my friends had thrown a party for me in the barn)
"It was brilliant! Julian and Amy got Harry's band to play, did they tell you?"
"They did mention something like that, I'm glad I wasn't there to hear it! Sounds like you had a wonderful time though, you deserve to enjoy yourself every once in a while"
"yeah"... I sighed and shuffled myself around on his lap. "um, dad.. I know I'm not supposed to ask you this because you're not my doctor, but I was wondering if you could have a look at my leg.. I think I might have had an allergic reaction to something, but I'm too embarrassed to go and see Dr. Mathews about it."
"Okay.." He untwisted one of the straps on my dress. "Where is it?"
"It's um... right at the top of my thigh". I swallowed nervously and parted my legs a little bit. Dad slid his hand around and pushed my thigh further, bringing his knees together so I was straddling him, facing away. Thank god I didn't have to look him in the eye, I was embarrassed enough already. My feet swung a few inches from the floor, arms uselessly at my sides.
"Do you mean this?" I fought the urge not to squirm as he slid his hand up the inside of my thigh, pressing on a small red bite about halfway up.
"Yeah. What do you think?"
"I think it's probably fine, it's not infected or anything so you shouldn't worry. Maybe some camomile lotion would stop it from getting so red though, I'll go and get some"
With one swift movement Dad stood up and I had to grab the table to keep my balance. As he walked across the kitchen I noticed a bulge in his trousers that could only mean one thing. Oh god, no. Not this, not my father. How awful!
He came back towards me and asked me to sit on the table with my legs apart. At this point I could only nod, thinking, why did I ask him to look at this? I should have waited and seen Dr. Mathews.... Maybe I'm just thinking too hard, maybe there was no bulge, maybe I'm imagining things.
He sat down on the chair and bent his head so that his nose was in direct line with my crotch. I looked away and caught my reflection in the oven door. This looks ridiculous, I was thinking. Oh god, I hope my brother doesn't come in. And then I felt his hands on my thighs, rubbing in the cold cream, professionally at first and then he started to slow down and rub a little higher.
"uh, dad...."
