Dear Daddy,
You said it would be ok for Rachel and Rebecca to come with me on our annual spring shopping trip into the city. You remember the trip that Mom and I used to take when you were still married. A trip to eat at fancy restaurants, shop at nice stores, see the movies that hadn't yet come to our town.
Ever since Mom started her own company, she hasn't had time for our trip. Last year was the first year you and I went alone, and frankly, Dad, it was boring. I was 17 then, and I thought I should be able to buy the skirts and jeans and tops and bikinis that I wanted, that Mom would've let me buy. But nooooooo, you denied me every item I wanted, and so I came back to school for the final quarter wearing baggy jeans and stupid-looking plain tops that everyone laughed at. At the first pool party in the summer, all the other teenagers were trying to show off their developing bodies in bikinis too small for them. After all, that's what the boys like. I wore a boring one-piece that made me look like a guy with long hair.
I begged and begged for you to let me take a friend on this year's trip. Finally, you consented, and so I brought it up with Rachel and Rebecca. Being that they are sisters and don't do anything without each other, you said it was OK that they both go.
I was 18 now, and while I was old enough to be on my own in the city, it still frightened me not to have a parent with me.
Into the city we went, and the first thing we had to do was find a hotel with a pool. Had Mom been in charge, we would've had one reserved long ago, but you blew it off so we went into the city without a reservation. And since there was a conference in town that included every cigar-smoking, horny old guy who sells insurance, we couldn't find a hotel with a pool. Thanks Daddy.
We finally found a condo for a weekend rent, and it turned out to be pretty nice. There was a pool, and it was small, but at least it was a pool.
The shopping trip was a blast. You let Rachel and Rebecca and I do our own thing for the most part, didn't review every single item I tried on and actually stayed out of our faces for most of the day.
Back at the condo, you wanted to see what we bought. I was afraid of that, but I thought simply holding up the items would suffice. It didn't. You wanted to see what every item looked like on me. And you quickly grabbed all the receipts in case you had to take something back.
And so the fashion show began. Not going to model by myself, I thought I'd enlist Rachel and Rebecca to model with me. I thought if your attention was turned to a pair of gorgeous girls with gorgeous bodies, you might overlook some of the things I bought.
We started by modeling our low-riders, the jeans that keep getting lower and lower each year. It helped that Rebecca has a tattoo on the small of her back. That got your attention and drew a smile as you cracked open a beer. As Rebecca danced in front of you, she grabbed the beer, took a drink and passed it around. You just laughed.
The show continued. Skirts (too short, you said), tops (too low cut, you said) and T-shirts (way too tight, you said, while smiling) followed. It definitely helped that Rachel and Rebecca were modeling, too, I thought, as you opened your third beer and passed it around without any encouragement.
It came time for the swimwear show. Rebecca had bought a stunning patriotic bikini, white with red and blue stars and stripes all over. Her tan breasts -- that were barely held in by the cups -- and legs looked great. You knew that we went tanning a lot together in an effort to keep our skin golden brown during the winter.
Rachel's bikini was black and white with cute ties at the sides of the bikini bottoms.
Mine was Navy blue with gold anchors located in all of the strategic places.
"Those are fine for private pool parties at the house, Michelle," you said, "but not in public. Did you girls buy any one-piece suits for your school and summer parties?"
We all put on our pouty little faces and said we had run out of money, and that these particular suits were on sale and were not exchangeable.
"We'll see about that," you said, "when we go back to the store tomorrow to exchange them -- and I'm there with you."
With that, Rachel opened the refrigerator, grabbed the remaining beer and suggested we all go to the pool. Her thinking was that if the suits were used, the store certainly wouldn't take them back.
This slipped past you, Daddy, I believe. Either that, or the thought of seeing three young teen-agers in wet bikinis made you forget about what you were thinking.
"Joining us?" Rachel said to you, smiling, as she wiggled her cute little ass toward the door.
"I'll probably be down in a while," you said, putting the newspaper over your crotch area.
