That was why my father despised me so much. I reminded him too much of my mom. His deceased wife. My tears turned into sobs. I cried so hard, I could barely breathe. I cried for the loss of my mom, the pain long buried but still powerful. I cried for the distance that had grown between me and my sisters when I fled the family to college. And most of all, I cried for the love I had for my father that would never be returned. I was cursed with my mother's body, a constant, walking reminder to everyone of what they could no longer have.
[Jealousy.]
After getting dressed (in a relatively conservative outfit, I should add), I couldn't quite get up the nerve to head upstairs just yet. Not after that weird encounter with my dad after my shower. Now that I knew the reason why he despised me, I didn't want to look at him and see the hurt in his eyes. But after a while, Ally came down to my room and told me they were going to the mall and asked if I wanted to go.
"Did dad ask you to ask me?" I inquired, curious.
My little sister frowned and then shook her head slightly before answering, "No, I just came to ask you myself." After a pause, she asked, "Why?"
When I felt my lower lip start to quiver, I quickly turned away from her. I didn't want to start crying in front of her. Damnit. "No reason," I lied. I felt my eyes starting to water so I quickly dove toward the side of my bed, hiding my face from my sister. Then I reached over and started rummaging through the drawer in the table next to the bed. "I think I'll just stay home and read," I said as I pulled a random book from the drawer.
Ally didn't say anything but I could tell she was still standing in my doorway. I think she had an inkling of my tumultuous relationship with my father and probably wanted to try to help fix it. But there was nothing she could do. Finally, I heard her soft steps as she padded her way back to the stairs, not pressuring me to say anything else.
As soon as I heard the car drive away down the street, I ventured upstairs and made something to eat. I was starving. After making some eggs and toast and a cup of coffee, I tidied up the kitchen to the point where you would never know I had been there. In the back of my head, I knew I wanted to leave as little trace as possible while I was there for the summer.
It was mid-afternoon when I heard the garage door open, signaling their return. Using the remote, I quickly turned the tv off and then got up, walking toward the basement door. I was just about to start down the stairs when the door opened behind me and Monica called out, "GRACIE!"
I turned toward her as she ran toward me holding a big paper bag that said Forever 21 along the edge. She skidded to a halt a few steps in front of me, panting. She had a grin on her face. I couldn't help but smile back at her. She was clearly excited about whatever she had bought at the mall. Peering over the top of the bag, I couldn't quite tell what she had inside. But she remedied that a few seconds later when she pulled out a champagne-colored slip dress. She held it up in front of her body, letting the fabric fall down until it stopped halfway down her thighs. I frowned at the it, scrunching my nose a little. The material had little rhinestones all over it. It looked really pretty. But it also looked a touch... see through? No way. My dad had seriously bought his fifteen-year-old daughter a see-through dress? He never would have let me wear something like that!
"Do you like it?" she asked excitedly.
Nodding dumbly, I said, "Uh huh."
I heard the trunk of my dad's Audi slam shut and then Ally poked her head through the door as she walked in. She was carrying two bags, one of which was from Abercrombie and Fitch. She headed straight toward me and I noticed the other bag was a Michael Kors bag. Wow. He was really treating my sisters to some nice clothes, it seemed.
"Hi Gracie!" Ally said my name. She was grinning just like her sister had been.
I could just see my dad through the door before it closed behind my youngest sister. He was carrying what looked to be a grocery bag. Just then, the instinct to flee the scene overcame me. Maybe it was jealousy, but seeing how excited my little sisters were because my dad bought them some clothes made me mad suddenly. Turning toward the stairs, I took the first few steps down when I heard Ally call out, "Don't you wanna see what we got?"
"You can show me in my room," I called back without slowing. I heard the garage door open and close but luckily, I never saw my dad.
My sisters came down a few minutes later, hauling their bags with them. I was sitting on my bed, mindlessly scrolling through F******k posts without really seeing any of them. Both Ally and Monica were so excited to show me their new clothes, I felt my irritation melt away. Then they proceeded to give me a mini fashion show right in my bedroom.
Both girls had gotten new swimsuits for the summer. I gaped at Monica when she donned hers, completely floored. It was a black, two-piece bikini. That was already a surprise, but when I saw how thin the straps were, I couldn't believe it. My dad seriously let her get a bikini that looked... sexy?! I was flabbergasted. But I tried to hide it so I wouldn't embarrass her.
Ally's swimsuit was a lot more conservative. It was a chocolate brown, one-piece suit. It covered her appropriately. The only questionably "non-conservative" aspect of it was the fact that it only had one shoulder. But I did have to admit, it looked super cute on her. And she was clearly excited about it.
Monica took out the sheer champagne dress again and pulled it over her bikini. Once she had it on, I decided it wasn't as bad as I thought. It was see-through, but with the rhinestones all over it and the black bikini underneath, it looked more like a summer dress than lingerie or something crazy. Somewhere in the back of my mind, it still made me cringe a little. My dad had always forced me to dress ultra-conservative when I still lived at home.
Both girls continued showing me their clothes. They each had several pairs of shorts (of questionable lengths, I might add), some shirts and even a fleet of new panties and bras. I couldn't help but add up the numbers in my head. By the time they were done with their fashion show, I decided my dad must have spent close to four hundred dollars. Jeez. Maybe they had gotten really good grades and he was rewarding them. But try as I may, I couldn't shake the ever growing feeling of jealousy that was burning in the pit of my stomach. He had never given me this kind of treatment. Not once. Well, maybe when I was ten. But clothes for a ten-year-old were completely different than clothes for a teenager.
I finally told my sisters that I was tired and wanted to take a nap. They shoved their treasure of new clothes back into their bags and left my room giggling, oblivious of my envy. And as soon as they were gone and I heard the door at the top of the stairs click shut, I buried my face in my pillow and screamed.
We enjoyed our lunch for a half hour and then Ally wanted to go swimming again. She begged me to come, too, so I finally agreed. I realized that I hadn't wanted to go swimming earlier because of my sudden sheepishness to let my dad see me in my bikini. But at my sister's insistence, I finally took my shorts and cardigan off and headed out to the lake. Monica joined us a few minutes later and we ended up playing Marco Polo for a while. After that, Ally wanted me to try launching her in the air. Soon Monica wanted me to do the same and, by the time I was ready to get out and do a little sunbathing, my sisters were smiling happily.I got back to our blanket dripping wet. My dad had his sunglasses on, but I knew he was staring at me as I approached. He had his phone face down on his chest. He had probably been reading or watching YouTube or something. Grabbing my towel, I wiped my face and then did my best to soak up the water in my hair. Then I sat down on the opposite end of the blanket
My breathing was extremely shallow and with every gasping breath, I felt my body lift off the bed. Daddy's mouth sucked my nipple inside, his tongue swirling around it over and over. His finger pressed even harder into my crotch, mashing my clit flat. Still diddling in circles, he coaxed my orgasm to come out and play.Everything froze in my head. The room disappeared. My father held me with his hand and his mouth and I clung to him in return. The only thing I was aware of was pleasure. Extreme, carnal pleasure. It started deep inside my vagina, directly beneath where my dad was playing with my clit. Pleasure. Explosive pleasure. Burning tingles of it arced upward, into the center of my clit. Then it exploded outwards and upwards. A shockwave rolled through my body, giving me convulsions.And I was crying out with pleasure. So much pleasure. This was the most explosive orgasm I had ever experienced. My body shook uncontrollably. Moans spilled out of my mouth as the pleasure rolled up
I stopped moving my hand, instead just resting it on his softening penis. It still felt extremely hot to my touch, despite being insulated by his pants. His body kept trembling for a long time, sporadically. I wasn't exactly surprised, yet it was a shock to me just how much my own arousal had increased from doing this to my dad. It was way hotter than I could have ever imagined.Finally looking away from my dad's face, I glanced at his crotch. My eyebrows shot up into my forehead. There was an enormous wet spot on his pants, centered right where the tip of his penis had been when I made him finish. The wet circle was about eight inches across. It almost stretched from hip to hip.Still keeping my fingers wrapped around his shaft, I snuggled my way closer to him and laid my head on his chest. I could hear his heart beating rapidly within. He finally wrapped an arm around me and hugged me closer. Mmmm. I felt wonderful. I had just give my father an orgasm for the first time and it made
An hour later, my father came to me. I was surprised to see him, but I didn't let it show. I was lying on my back, my head on my pillow. The only light in my room was the lamp on the table next to my bed, but it was dim. Without a word, he walked right up next to the bed and then sat down beside me.I decided to let him be the first to speak. After our mildly heated discussion in the living room, and my hour of tears, I didn't have the energy to start a conversation. It was almost five minutes before he finally said something."I'm sorry, Gracie," his voice sounded strained."Sorry for what?" I asked.He stared at me, his eyes seeming to glow in the dimly lit room. Without looking away, he said hoarsely, "That I can't give you what you want."Looking for any crack in his façade, I slowly nodded. Then I whispered, "It's ok." It wasn't, really. But I wanted him to feel comfortable. I would deal with whatever decision he ultimately made. To me, he was still trying to make up his mind. Or
But he was still tugging his arm against my restraining grip. I finally let go of his wrist and his finger slid easily out of my vagina. Panting heavily, I squeezed my eyes shut. My entire body was a tingling, writhing mass of arousal. I had been right on the brink of release!Despite my extreme frustration, I sighed and said, "Oh daddy. You're being too moral about this." The second the words were past my lips, I realized just how strongly I believed them. My father was being too moral. And, more importantly, I realized that my own concept of right and wrong had shifted. I no longer felt like it was wrong to want my father. But how was I to get him to see it that way, too?We didn't talk anymore after that and I didn't do anything physical with him. I just laid beside him until I could tell he had fallen asleep. I was alone with my thoughts for over an hour. I felt like that had been the most progress we had made yet. I was frustrated, but it dissipated as I lay there. By the time I
He shook his head wistfully and whispered, "I don't know how to stop trying, either."Rolling my eyes, I sighed loudly. Then I muttered, "I'm really frustrated.""I know," he said. He paused, thinking, and then added, "I didn't mean to frustrate you. And I didn't mean to... well, I shouldn't have done anything with you."I found myself studying his face. He looked... disconsolate. And I was fairly confident that he was fighting a war of desire about what was right and wrong. I decided to just speak my mind. Leaning closer to him, I whispered, "But I wanted to do something with you."He slowly lifted his head toward me until our eyes met again. His seemed to flick back and forth between mine, like he was trying to decide where to focus while he stared at me. I felt a warmth blossom in my stomach as I watched him stare at me. His expression was blank and yet, I felt like I could read him anyway. I had the distinct impression that I knew what he was thinking and that his thoughts were no