First off, it's not as bad as it sounds, really. I'm her step-father, and not her real dad. But in the end it's just an excuse. I mean, I raised her through her teen years and saw her off to college, so I guess, unless she really thought her deadbeat dad was a father to her, I was it.
OK, yes, I had desires that I tried with all my might to suppress. She was just beautiful and sexy. I saw it right after she got her braces off when she was fourteen. That smile. That killer smile. That and her round tush and playful, sexy walk, and even her voice. I'm working myself up now, I know, but I just have to tell you how it was.
Actually, I was jealous and very protective of her. I'd give any boy that walked through that front door the third-degree. No one dared lay a hand on her because they knew they would have to answer to me.
Me? Well, I'm 45 and in damn good shape. Seriously. I'm a bike-rider and swim a mile a day. Yes, I'm a fitness junkie. It's what I do. Yes, it is. I own the local athletic club, well, my wife, Jenny and I do. I met her there, as a matter of fact. I was just starting out after the divorce. She was from the old rolls, and I was trying to learn the membership after I took over. I had no problem remembering her, that's for sure.
I knew she had a kid. She sometimes came in with her in the afternoon with her book bag. She'd sit in the lounge doing homework while mom did her thing. I'd offer her snacks, and I'd laugh when she'd turn her nose up at the fruit and juice. I knew she wanted junk but not on my watch.
It was a couple of years before I finally got bold enough to ask her out. The mother, not the kid. Less than a year later we were married, and Pris became my daughter, too.
So that almost brings us up to date.
Pris graduated high school with honors and had been accepted at the state school, which coincidentally was one of the top-five party schools in the nation. I know; I'm an alum. Yes, I was perturbed. Here was my innocent (I kept telling myself) child going off into debauchery at the hands of god-knows-who. Well, I would soon find out who it was.
I remember unloading the truck and trying to help organize her dorm room. She would have none of it. In fact, she asked me to leave in no uncertain terms.
Well, there's a reason for that. I later learned that her roommate had developed something of an immediate crush on me and kept telling Pris that she thought I was "super hot" as I was hauling up furniture.
Pris just went off the deep end and shut her down immediately. Then she just basically told me to leave. Her mother stayed behind, but I went cool my heels walking around the quadrangle on campus. Jenny told me later a little about what happened but didn't say much more.
Parent's Day, about a month-and-a-half later was the next time we saw her. She didn't want us to meet her at dorm but in the cafeteria. It was obvious she was keeping me away from her roommate, Sarah. It didn't work, though, because Sarah and a few friends intercepted us before we got to the cafeteria. We had a grand time chatting together, but the conversation took a turn that made me constantly look at my wife for signs of discomfort. Sarah was regaling us with her "extracurricular" activities and status with the male population on campus. And then she said something about always having an open date for somebody special and added a wink in my direction. That was my cue to excuse ourselves and head to the cafeteria.
Pris almost blew a gasket when Jenny told her that we met Sarah and some friends outside. I wanted to laugh but knew better than to make light of Pris' concerns. That episode cast a pall over the next few hours of the visit. We went out to eat, said goodnight and went to our hotel room.
Jenny remarked about Pris' reaction to our encounter with Sarah. She said she seemed very jealous. I didn't even treat it remotely serious. I cast it off as a young girl trying her flirting skills at an older guy.
The next day was full of activities for the students and their parents so we never came in contact with Sarah or her friends again, much to my, and I'm sure Pris' relief.
When Pris finished her first semester I know she was glad to be home, and I was glad to have her home. Our empty nest was now full once again, but it didn't take long before the subject of Sarah was raised, and I cannot honestly tell you who broached it first. Despite all of my arguments to the contrary Pris was convinced that Sarah had her sights on me with no good intent in mind.
OK, it was stupid on my part, but that's because I was uneducated in such terms. I told Pris that I didn't think that Sarah cared for me that much. In fact, when we were leaving the crowd in front of the cafeteria I distinctly heard Sarah tell her friends I was a dillweed, and they all agreed emphatically and laughed. Pris let out a scream of exasperation and promptly stormed out of the room. Jenny ran after her after hearing her bedroom door slam.
Later I received my education when Jenny came sit by my chair to explain what happened. She told me the term is DILF, not dillweed.
Same difference, I offered.
Not quite. DILF, I learned means Dads I Like to Fornicate, except fornicate is not the exact term used. I don't know if I was mortified, honored, or treated like a piece of meat. Jenny looked serious with her hand on my arm. I said nothing except, "oh."
The subject of Sarah was taboo the remainder of the break. Thank god, the rest of the holidays passed uneventfully except for good wishes freely expressed.
Jenny brought Pris back to school. We thought it prudent that I not be put in that environment, since things were going so smoothly. The rest of that semester went just as smoothly, even when I drove her back after Spring Break.
Pris was back in the nest that Summer, too, working at the mall. It was just like old times -- almost. It seems that Pris had become a little liberal in her mannerisms and behavior. It was not unusual for me to see her yawning, half-sleepwalking to the bathroom each morning in her pajamas. But her attire had become quite skimpy and all but nonexistent. More than a few occasions I did a double-take to see if she had anything on below the waist. A little thong was all that remained of her modesty, and I have to say that my comfort level was about as substantial as her underwear.
I never mentioned this to Jenny, and she was rarely awake when Pris prepared for work.
Also, Pris was leaving her bedroom door ajar after returning to the bathroom, and I frequently was treated to a view of her bare back, and once or twice her bare butt -- all inadvertently, mind you. And I'm sorry if this sounds wrong, but long blonde hair against bare skin will even make the Pope stare.
She seemed to have mellowed quite a bit from the raw freshman, and had settled into a lackadaisical lifestyle, that, frankly, had me a bit worried.
