5

In my head, a fantasy burst to life suddenly. Instead of pleasuring myself, I pictured my father standing behind me, one hand on my ass while the other was wrapped around my waist, his fingers digging at my crotch. My breath caught as the sensations in my body exploded with pleasure. My mind was racing with thoughts as I continued to masturbate before the mirror, gliding my fingers up and down along my slit.

Something had changed for me. I couldn't deny it. Ever since that day when I had sex for the first time and fantasized about my father being the one who took my virginity. I tried to deny it and almost had myself convinced. Until I returned home last night. That day had unlocked something within me that I couldn't explain. Some hidden fetish, maybe. A fantasy, for sure. A desire to have what I couldn't have? My mouth opened wide as I slowly inserted my finger inside--

"There are three other people in this house, Gracie!!" my dad's loud, gruff voice blasted through the door, followed by a series of pounding thumps.

The interruption snapped me out of my reverie and I jerked my hand out of my crotch. I realized I was heavily turned on, which made me frustrated. Frustrated with my dad. Frustrated at the world. Tears started amassing in the corners of my eyes and that made me even madder.

My dad banged on the door again and I called out antagonistically, "Jesus, I'm coming!"

Grabbing a fresh towel, I hastily wrapped myself in it as I walked toward the exit. I knew my face was red. I was pissed. When I reached the door, I heaved it open and stormed past my father who had his fist raised as if to knock one more time. He stumbled in my furious wake and let out a strangled yell. I didn't care. He didn't say a thing as I walked down the hall and, when I reached the door to the basement, I glanced toward him and froze. He was staring at me, his face like a thunderhead. Was he pissed because I made him stumble? Whatever. He lifted his eyes to mine and quickly looked away. It was hard to tell from the distance, but I could swear he had been staring at my legs. Or glaring at them? That look on his face was so full of hatred.

As I walked down the stairs, a question kept repeating itself over and over in my head.

Why do you hate me, daddy?

[Bedroom.]

When I stepped into my bedroom, I walked over to the right hand wall where a tall mirror hung. Once more, I found myself staring at my reflection with a critical eye. The towel made a soft crumpling sound as slipped off my shoulder and fell to the floor at my feet. Unlike the bathroom mirror, this one was tall enough that I could see my entire body, all the way down to my feet. My eyes flicked down to my crotch briefly, noting the faint patch of hair that had started growing down there. It had been three days since I shaved.

Lifting my eyes slowly up my body, I examined myself, looking for the flaw I knew must be present. My stomach was flat, yet swelled just slightly in the center showing the slight outer contours of my abdomen. Trailing my eyes upward, I stopped when I was staring directly at my tits again. Reaching both hands up under them, I hoisted my breasts so they weren't lying flat against my chest. Frustration swept through me. My boobs were so small. Why hadn't they ever grown bigger? Monica's boobs were bigger than mine. Hell, even Ally was starting to grow, and she was only eleven! She certainly would have bigger tits than me. Mine were so small I could easily grab them with one hand.

A noise outside my door made me realize I had left it open. Well, I thought I had the entire basement to myself, so it shouldn't have mattered. Glancing into the mirror at the door, I saw my dad walk up to the threshold. "Gracie, listen--" he started to say but the second his face looked over at me, he cut off abruptly.

Even though it was only a few seconds, I felt like an eternity passed as my dad stared at me through the reflection in the mirror. Naked me. Fully, from head to toe, naked. Time caught up with me and I let out a yelp, letting go of my breasts so they sank down against my chest. Then I squatted as fast as I could and grabbed the towel, trying to drape it around myself as I stood back up. The towel wasn't very big and, in my haste, I only managed to cover my chest and maybe part of my butt. But I barely had a moment to spare a thought for my bare ass that must be glaring at my father right then. My face was burning hot and I literally wanted to crawl into my bed and die.

Flitting my eyes back to the mirror, I frowned. Why was my dad still standing there? And was he staring at my ass, or was that just a trick of the light? Clearing my throat, his eyes snapped up until they locked onto mine. "Uh, do you mind?" I asked, irritated at how embarrassed this was making me feel.

My dad backed halfway through the door and then hesitated. "Sorry," he muttered. That was the first apology I had heard from him in years, even if it was only said under his breath. I watched as he reached a hand out and took hold of the doorknob, pulling it toward him. But he stopped, still standing there. What the hell?

"You know," he said quietly and my eyes slid up to meet his gaze. I don't know why, but something about the way he was looking at me made me feel... tingly. Maybe it was just because he didn't sound as angry as usual. Swallowing, I stared at him until he continued. He spoke softly, but his words carried easily across my quiet room, "Your mother had small boobs, too." He paused, almost dramatically, and then went on, "She used to fret over them." I gasped to myself as his words echoed my worried thoughts from just moments ago. I started to open my mouth when he added, "Thing is, guys don't care about that as much as you might think."

With that, he withdrew, pulling the door shut behind him.

I let out the breath I had been holding for over a minute and the world started spinning. My heart beat once more after having stopped momentarily. Then I promptly fell to the floor, landing in a heap. My towel fell from my shoulders, landing behind me as if to cradle me. Tears started pouring out of my eyes before my thoughts caught up to me.

I had been right all along.