After leaving the beach where Shawna had removed her top as I rubbed suntan oil into her bare skin, she'd revealed her breasts to me...though not all of them.
I couldn't stop thinking about it on the way home.
I was sure she hadn't actually done it on purpose; rather, she'd instinctively risen up to her elbows when Lisa had called her name from the water.
Either way, I was in a mess.
Asking me to rub suntan oil on her body was a perfectly normal thing...in fact, I'd done it several times in the past when Shawna was younger.
So why the big deal now?
Why, was I sitting there in the back seat of Shawna's car...constantly remembering the way she'd looked over her shoulder at me on the beach blanket as she rubbed suntan oil slowly into her thigh?
Why was I remembering the way she'd smiled at me as she joked about taking her suit off? Why had the picture of her sitting totally naked on the blanket flashed through my mind? Why had touching her affected me so? Had she really ground her hips into the blanket?
And why...for fuck's sake, why was I using my daughter's friend...my second daughter who I practically helped raise from childhood...young Shawna, barely 18...who called me "dad" her whole life...as a masturbatory fantasy?
Why was I having these thoughts and fantasies about her? Why was I lusting after her?
Simply because I'd come home one evening to find her sitting on the couch in a sleep shirt and knee sock with her panties next to her?
Why had she taken them off? Was it innocent? It had to be. I refused to think of one of my girls that way...but...I was.
She was 18 now; that was true. She was a young woman. She possibly had...needs. I recoiled at that thought.
But if that was the case...and that was a big "if," why was she doing these things in front of me of all people? She was young and gorgeous and could have her pick of any of the young men in the world.
It made no sense.
Therefore, the only conclusion that I could come to was that I was just a pitiful, dirty old man who had somehow acquired an eye for my daughter's best friend.
I missed my wife of course. I hadn't been with another woman since she passed...but that was no excuse for lusting after Shawna.
And I had to stop. I would stop.
I would stop thinking about her as a sex object. Christ, she was practically my own daughter. She'd spent at least as much time with Lisa at our place growing up as she did at home.
I'd been like a second father to her. I'd bandaged her wounds when she got hurt at our place. I'd helped her with her homework. I'd fed her. Since my wife died, Lisa, Shawna and I had spent every Christmas together...usually the day before or after. We celebrated the girl's birthdays together. For the last ten years we'd hailed their accomplishments and weathered their failures...together.
We were like a family of sorts.
I'd managed to pull some strings to get Shawna in the same college as Lisa. Her math scores hadn't quite made the cut, but a few phone calls and some name dropping had done the trick. Shawna had been so happy about going to college with Lisa...she'd hugged my neck, and kissed my cheek.
"You're the best dad anyone could ever have," she'd said. "I wish you were my real dad..."
I'd swelled with pride and love for her in that moment. I'd made a difference in her life. And she'd made a difference in ours.
Now, here I was fantasizing about her...about having sex with her...lusting after her young body.
God, I thought, dropping my head into my hands. "I must be a sick fuck."
"Daddy?" Lisa said, sounding concerned from the front seat. "You okay?"
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine honey," I lied, smiling. The last thing on this earth that I would ever want was for Lisa to even gain an inkling of what had been going on in my sick, twisted mind.
"Maybe he got too much sun," Shawna added, watching me in the rearview. "Let's get you home so you can lay down dad."
"No, I'm fine dears," I said. Though I wasn't. We were going out to celebrate their 18th birthdays. They'd each turned 18 at college and I didn't want to miss their birthdays again.
I made it through the rest of the ride in one piece. Shawna didn't drive like a maniac on the way home, a fact that I greatly appreciated.
Once in the house, the girls fawned over me.
"You look pale daddy, why don't you lay down for a bit?" Lisa said sweetly, pecking my cheek.
I felt like shit but it wasn't from the sun.
"We're celebrating you girls' birthdays this evening, and I don't want to miss it," I said.
"Daddy, it's okay. If you don't feel well, we can do it another time." My baby girl shot me those doe eyes, the ones that always melted me.
"Yeah dad, it's no big deal, we can always do it some other time," Shawna added sweetly.
As tempting as it was, I knew that the girls would too soon be gone again. I would miss them, and I didn't want to lose out on their birthday celebrations. We'd always had a double party for them. It was always special.
"I know," Lisa said, popping up suddenly.
"Why don't we just celebrate at home? I'll run and get some cake and ice-cream and we can watch our favorite movies."
"Yeah, and I'll fix dinner!" Shawna finished the idea, excited.
"That way you can rest up daddy," my daughter smiled at me.
"But girls, it's your birthdays. I can't have you working, going to the store and fixing dinner and stuff on your birthdays," I protested. But the idea was appealing.
I was mentally exhausted from thinking and kicking my own ass. Maybe I had gotten too much sun. What I really wanted at that moment was to shower and relax with a stiff drink.
"Dad..." Shawna said, trying to sound stern. "We want to...besides, the main thing is that we're together."
Lisa nodded.
"Okay," I said, exhaling...really wanting that shower. "If you really want to. I'm going to go take a shower."
With that, I ambled upstairs to my room, leaving the girls to their plans.
Under the warm water of the shower, I washed away the day. It had been a long time since I'd last been to the beach. I'd forgotten how the sun really takes it out of you if you aren't used to it. Besides that, I'd foolishly forgotten to use sunscreen, and my upper body was beginning to turn red with sunburn.
It was easy not to fantasize about Shawna. I didn't want to. I would no longer think of my sweet, second daughter that way.
Wrapping a towel around my waist I entered my room feeling better about myself.
Suddenly, a crashing sound reached my ears and Shawna cried out in what sounded like real pain.
"SHAWNA?" I called out, alarmed.
"OW!" I heard her shriek from the kitchen.
Bounding from my spot, I ran, clutching my towel around me, taking the steps two at a time.
Still sopping wet, I rounded the corner onto the kitchen floor and slid, nearly skidding off of my feet and crashing into the wall.
"OW! OW!" Shawna said again and again. Standing over the stove, still in her bikini, she held her arm to her chest in pain as tears welled in her eyes.
"Shawna!" I said, scared to death. Recovering, I finally reached her. "Are you okay? What happened? Let me see it!" I fired off in a panic like parents do when their children get hurt.
"I dropped the pot of boiling water and it hit my arm..." she said in pain, as a single tear traced one cheek.
Reacting without thinking, I quickly grabbed her arm, turned the cold water on full blast and jammed it under the spigot in a single motion.
Shawna whimpered and bit her bottom lip as the cold water hit her burning flesh.
I held her arm under the running water for several minutes, then lifting it to my face, I worriedly inspected it. It was red, but I saw no signs of serious burns. She'd been lucky.
"Oh thank god sweety," I said, relieved. "You arm's gonna be fine."
