Snoop

"What are you making?" Nat asked, closing the front door behind her.

I was leaning over a saucepan filled with simmering bolognese, sweat dripping from my brow.

"Spaghetti Bolognese!!" I announced proudly. "Who says I can't cook?"

My daughter kicked off her shoes in the hallway and emerged on the other side of the kitchen island. She was wearing her soccer gear, white t-shirt and navy blue shorts, the look finished with dried sweat and matted hair. Still, she was beautiful.

"No one," she replied. "Literally no one says you can't cook."

"It's going to be ready in like twenty minutes," I said, smiling back at her.

"Cool," she replied, dropping her duffel bag and leaning against the island. "It smells delicious!"

"That's because it is delicious," I whipped back. "Come have a taste."

I collected some into a spoon and brought it up, blowing on it. Nat circled the island with her usual effortless grace. She slid her arm around my back as she stepped next to me and opened her mouth. I slid it in and watched her face closely for a change in her expression.

"Bleh," she said, with a neutral expression. "Are you sure you didn't use dog food?"

"Oh shut it," I replied, resuming my gentle stirring.

"I'll go shower and then I'll be ready," she said, with a smirk leftover from her playful jibe. "Waaaait for me."

She grabbed her sports bag and bounced up the stairs to her bed and bathroom. How did she still have so much energy after soccer practice, I wondered. These days I felt like I needed a nap after walking up stairs. Damn teenagers and their youth.

"As soon as I'm ready I'm eating!" I called up to her. "So move that tushy!"

She gave her ass a purposeful wiggle as she got to the top of the stairs and disappeared into her room. I continued on my pasta, an old recipe from my college days. I was a pretty good cook back then, but I had stopped when I married Jessica, Nat's mother. I wouldn't have thought we would have fallen into such typical gender roles, but somehow it happened. She got pregnant. I worked. She became the primary care-giver. Before I knew it we were a typical suburban married family, straight out of a fucking sitcom. Except instead of two and a half children, we just had one. Natalie. Our now eighteen year-old daughter.

I blinked and I was thirty eight. Almost fucking forty. What happened? It seems like just yesterday I was the one coming home from sports practice to my parents cooking supper.

I could hear the shower turn on upstairs.

I had been thinking about it more recently. Jessica had gone away to her mom and sister, leaving Nat and I here to fend for ourselves. It wasn't the first time, but it was the longest. Being alone, not having her as my partner, reminded me of my life before her. Once again I became the college student, master of my own domain, cooking and fending for myself. Nat was now old enough to be self-sufficient, for the most part.

Without warning, my own life had returned to me.

"Shit!"

I looked down at my bolognese that I had been absent mindedly stirring. It was bubbling too hot. I had gotten distracted. I also need to get the water boiling for the actual pasta. I quickly turned the heat down and hurried to get a pot of water boiling on the other hob.

I could hear the shower upstairs turn off.

I should be happy to get my life back. I had longed for it for so long. Through nights spent soothing a crying baby, days chasing a mischievous toddler negotiating with a sullen pre-teen, I had dreamed of a time when I could reclaim my life and my time. Now I wasn't sure what to do with it.

I dropped the pasta in the boiling water, wondering if this was the fate of every parent and heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Do you mind if I use your charger?" Nat asked. "I left mine at school."

She was descending the staircase, her medium length dirty-blond hair still dripping wet from her shower, wearing a large white t-shirt.and her panties. I couldn't help getting distracted by this view of her, if only for a moment. I purposely tried to avoid noticing her nipples under the thin t-shirt, partially wetted by her hair.

"Oh um, yeah sure," I said. "You can plug it into my laptop. It's on the kitchen table."

"Thaaaanks!" she said and sauntered over. She plugged her iPhone into the loose cable connected to my MacBook and stood for a while poking at the screen. She frowned.

"It's not chaaaarging," She moaned, while putting on an exaggerated display of poutiness.

I turned away from the pasta and walked over to her, "And they say you kids are so good with technology."

"Psssshhh," she replies. "What technology? It's just a phone."

My mouth hung aghast as she said that, but I unlocked my laptop with my finger and saw a pop-up saying something along the lines of -

"iPhone connected - Unlock to enable and sync"

"Uh dad, the food?" Nat said, putting her hand on my shoulder.

I turned to see the water spilling over the side of the pasta pot. God-damnit. I clicked Accept and got up to fix it. As I reached it I heard Nat declaring victory.

"It's working," she said. "Thanks daddy!"

I grabbed the lid off the pasta pot that I had stupidly put on. Nat was back to being completely absorbed by her phone.

"How much time do you spend on that thing?" I asked her.

"What do you mean?" she replied, without looking away from it.

"I mean, do you experience anything without your phone?" I asked again.

She looked up for a moment and then raised her phone: "Smile!"

"What?" I exclaimed. "No!"

She started taking photos of me standing by the stove, disheveled and stressed.

"Oh god, are you going to post these somewhere to embarrass me?" I asked, sighing. "Dad can't even cook dinner when mom's away."

Nat stopped and lowered the phone.

"Not at all," she said with sudden earnestness. "I would never. And what's embarrassing about you cooking your daughter a delicious dinner? You're great."

I smiled back at her. "You get so sweet sometimes."

She reengaged her phone. "Oh these are adorable," she said.

"Shut up!"

--

We sat and ate dinner together. I insisted that we do it around the kitchen table, rather than on the couch in front of the TV. We spoke in quips. That was our repartee. A good natured zing here, a joking insult there. We had fun together. It was different with her mom and her. Jessica couldn't help herself, try as she might, from layering in some advice, instruction or even criticism. Nat would react badly. Somehow, even the most basic or innocent topics would end up in conflict - not a fight per se, but not an enjoyable conversation. Nat would either engage or retreat into her phone. Jessica would usually double down. Mother - daughter relationships I guess.

It was nice to have some time with just the two of us.

But straight after dinner, she unplugged her phone and disappeared up to her room while I cleaned up the kitchen. Not soon after she re-emerged, fully dressed and apparently ready to go out. She was wearing one of those romper things that seem to have gotten to popular, and mysteriously clean white sneakers. Her hair was now dry and hung loose to her shoulders. Make-up on.

"What?" I asked in surprise. "Where are you going?"

"What do you mean?" she replied. "I told you. I'm going to Kiara's tonight to study. I mentioned it yesterday. It's not a big deal."

"On a school night?" I muttered, kinda unsure of how to react.

"I mean yes, we're studying, after all," she said with an amused smile.

"I should probably call her mom," I continued.

She actually laughed out loud. It wasn't even mocking; she was actually tickled. Her phone buzzed at that moment.

"Kiara's here to pick me up," she said, a smile on her face as she walked over to the door. "Should I invite her in so you can make sure it's actually her?"

I decided to call her bluff, just in case.

"I haven't seen Kiara in ages," I answered. "Invite her in."

Nat's expression shifted every so slightly to sourness as she looked at me in incredulity. Then she typed something into her phone.

"Fine, she's coming."

At that moment, I realized my mistake. It was too late though, to change tack. I had just revealed that I thought she was lying to me. I hadn't even stopped to consider that I basically just straight up told her I didn't trust her. Nat reacted to the knock on the door instantly, turning to open it. Kiara, of course, was on the other side.

"Hey Mr. Roberts!" she said, sliding into the house. She was wearing either comfies or PJs, I couldn't tell.

"Hi Kiara," I replied. "Long time, no see. How are you doing?"

Kiara was Nat's half-japanese childhood friend. Dark-haired, and still very petite. Even for her age, her skin was enviably radiant. She had always been very sweet, and previously quite shy, although the former had receded over time. She was smiling broadly as she walked up to me and slung her arms around my neck in a hug. I let out a bit of a "Oh.." as she did. I looked over her head at Nat, who scowled at me. I could smell a familiar scent on her.

Kiara slid her hand away from me, allowing them to drag against me with a tenderness I hadn't felt in a long time. If I didn't know better I'd guess it was a flirtatious touch. But I did know better. I was almost 40 for fuck's sake.

"I'm good," she said. "Just worried about our test on Friday. Oh! Nat said you cooked a mean spaghetti. Is there any left?"

"Key!" Nat shouted at her, with the disapproving tone of a parent. I chuckled.

"Yeah," I said. "We've got leftovers in the fridge if you want."

As Kiara stared at me, I finally clocked it. Her eyes were the slightest bit bloodshot. The smell. She was high. They were going to sneak off to smoke weed.

"We should probably get going," Nat said, putting her arm through Kiara's to pull her away. "Need to get studying."

"Of course," I replied, barely stifling my smile. "Aim high!"

Kiara giggled, and Nat glared at me as she rushed her embarrassing friend out the door.

"Bye Mr Roberts!"

"Bye dad."

And just like that, I was alone in my house.

--

After cleaning the kitchen, I settled down in front of my laptop. No one in the house? I'm going to watch some porn and masturbate in peace. I never would have thought that this would be one of the guilty pleasures that I missed the most after getting married and having a kid. I unlocked my computer with my finger and was about to open an incognito tab when I noticed the Photos app bouncing at the bottom of my screen. I clicked it and the app took over the screen.

The first few rows were pictures of me, standing in front of the stove, looking sweaty, disheveled and embarrassed. These were the pictures that Nat had taken not a few hours earlier. I smiled at it now, remembering her follow-up comment.

But wait... Nat took those on her phone, why have I got the pictures? I scrolled down a bit further. I was now greeted by selfies of Nat and one of her friends at soccer practice, sweaty hair sticking to foreheads. These must have been taken a few hours before that... Why are Nat's photos on my Photos app?

I scrolled a bit further, not thinking too much about it. My god she takes a lot of photos, I thought.

Then it struck me. It must have synced when she charged her phone on my laptop? That's weird. I wonder why that happened.

I freeze. My eyes locked on to one photo. Nat in our bathroom mirror, completely naked.

The format was so familiar to me. I've seen a million on the internet. Hip slightly to the side. Phone held up. But it's Nat. Smiling directly at me.

I felt almost weightless, blood rushing around my body. My throat dried up and shivers ran down my spine like electricity punishing me for seeing something I shouldn't have. My cock is rock hard within a few seconds. I recognized the feeling. It was just like the first time I saw hardcore porn.

She's beautiful. Slim and petite. Completely shaved pussy. For the first time I saw her nipple piercings that I had tried so hard to ignore. I recognized the small tattoo on her hip.

It took a moment to realize what I was doing, although I felt like my world had already turned upside down. I reached up and slammed my laptop shut. I stood up and paced.

"Fuck!" I cursed out loud as I walked around my living room. My ears were buzzing.

My cock was still rock hard as I chastised myself. What was I doing looking through Nat's photos? That was a total invasion of her privacy. I used to see her naked all the time, but now she was her own independent woman. She would be mortified if she knew.

And.. how the fuck did that turn me on? That's my fucking daughter. I'm a fucking monster.

"Chris, get your shit together." I said, stopping. "It's okay."

I walked over to the liquor cabinet and poured myself a scotch before sitting down in my comfy chair with it.

"It's okay." I said to myself again. I continued my reassurance in my own head.

You haven't done anything wrong. It was an accident and you saw your daughter naked. That's not weird. There's nothing wrong with nudity. European families probably see each other naked all the time, right? And you just reacted that way out of instinct. You're not a monster. You just saw a naked girl and got excited. It's fine. Relax. I took another sip.

It's really not that weird at all. It's completely natural. So get over it. You're a big boy. You can handle it.

I downed my glass of whiskey, poured myself another and sat back down in front of my laptop. I opened it back up and, when greeted by the login page again, gave my finger print. There was nothing to worry about.

Instantly the picture was back in front of me. Although it was less of a shock this time, the effect remained. My cock started to harden again immediately. I directed the cursor to close it, until I noticed the next picture. Before I had time to second guess myself, I double clicked it.

It was similar except this time Nat had her tongue out and was grabbing her tits, squeezing them. I may have let out an audible groan. My cock was straining against my pants, and all other symptoms had returned. My mouth was dry, ears buzzing.

I took a deep sip of my whiskey and just stared at it. I unbuttoned my jeans and unzipped just so my dick wouldn't hurt.

She looked so playful and naughty, her tiny tits gripped by her hands. I wonder if she was taking these for someone? Or just for herself?

I took another sip of whiskey and scrolled to the next photo. This one was just her in her bedroom, wearing panties and a t-shirt in bed. I chastised myself for my disappointment and downed the rest of my drink.

It's a good thing, I think. Now I'm so fucking hard and ready to go, I can find some porn and masturbate.

I realized that I probably shouldn't do that out here in the open, just in case Nat gets back earlier than expected, so I grab the whisky bottle, glass and my laptop and head to the bedroom.

Five minutes later, I laid on the bed in darkness staring at the computer screen. The bedside table held my glass and a substantially emptier bottle of scotch.

I had intended to watch porn, but instead I was just staring at my screen in a mental battle with myself. I kinda already knew I was going to lose. I just needed to struggle a bit beforehand. I had to feel like I put some effort into it.

"Fuck." I muttered and went back into my photos app. I scrolled down to the bathroom selfies again. This time I was as naked as her... my hand on my rock hard cock. I just stared at the picture of her gripping her tits with her tongue out. I was barely even stroking yet, but honestly I don't think I'd been harder in my life.

My curiosity got the better of me and I finally decided to continue scrolling. Most of her pictures were what I expected. She was goofing around with friends, posing at instagrammable spots. There were short videos of her dancing. Nevertheless I found myself lusting after her in every photo, like a seal had been broken that could never be unbroken.

It wasn't long until I came across a batch of photos that really sparked my attention though: Her, Kiara and a couple of friends at a beautiful house that I didn't recognize. Looking at the date, I realized this was a few weeks ago when Nat had claimed she was joining Kiara's family for a trip. I'm sure Kiara's family had heard the same story.

"Naughty naughty Nat," I muttered, which I realized was the same way I chastized her as a child.

The picture was Kiara and her, another girl and three guys, who looked significantly older, in a group outside what looked like a remote lake-house with a stunning pool. The girls were all in bikinis and the guys in swim trunks. It looked like a fun trip. As I inspected the picture, I could see beer bottles, glasses and bongs littering the area around the pool. Clearly they had been enjoying themselves there. The one picture was relatively benign, but the next had them all playing around. I could see one of the guys hands gripping on Nat's tit. She was holding her hand to her mouth in faux embarrassment. Then there were a few pics of the scenery and then.

A video.

I put my headphones on and double clicked it, holding my breath.

--

Nat kicked back her phone stand and rested it on the table facing them. Kiara had specifically asked her to set it up, so she had ensured her phone was fully charged and ready to film.

"Are you guys going to come play or what?" Kiara called.

"What are we playing?" shouted one of the male voices.

"It's a game," Nat called back. "Just fucking come already."

The rest of the gang emerged from various parts of the house to join Kiara and Nat sitting on the floor of the central living room.

Chris, a early twenties skater boy with mussed up blonde brown hair, stood in front of the two girls.

"See this is what we get for bringing kids along," he jokingly moaned.

"Don't moan at us because your knees are too old to get down on the floor," Nat clapped back.

One by one everyone followed the instructions, drinks-in-hand, and sat in a circle on the floor. The last of the day's sun was filtering in through the windows as they gathered. Once assembled, Kiara took the lead.

"Okay," she said, "so I downloaded this app. It's a game that I think would be fun to play with this crowd. It's called Dare to Last."

"Oh my god," Chris moaned again. "Truth or Dare? Really?"

"Kinda!" Kiara said, sticking her finger out at him. "But not exactly. Basically you put the phone in the middle, like it were the bottle in spin the bottle, but you just tap the screen and it randomly selects someone in the circle."

"Revolutionary," Chris laughed.

"It then gives that person a challenge, a dare, truth or something like that. Once they've done it, they tap the phone and it selects the next person. The challenges start quite tame and get more risque and extreme as it goes on. If you refuse a challenge, you lose and are out of the game. Last one remaining is the winner."

Everyone else looked excited, despite Chris's constant naysaying. Eyes kept darting around the circle.

"Is everyone in?" Nat asked. "Hands up if you're in."

Nat and Kiara both put their hands up, beaming wide smiles. Nat had her messy blonde brown hair loose down to her shoulders, and was otherwise wearing her bikini top and denim short shorts. She had clearly been in the sun a lot, because she looked darker than usual. Kiara was even darker, but she always was. Her black hair was still wet and she was wearing a t-shirt over her bikini bottoms.

Two of the guys put up their hands. Eddie was a large and muscular black guy, who looked like he must be a star football player. He wore stylish white shorts and a basketball style tank-top.

"Sounds fun, yeah," he said.

The other guy was Eric, a clean-cut and relatively skinny white boy that looked like he was the main character in almost every college movie of the last decade. Attractive enough to be compelling, but awkward enough to be relatable and likable.