A big camera, an 18yo old girl and a secluded spot by the river—given the times we are living in, it's obvious where such a cocktail of elements will lead this father and daughter. But after the sultry portraits of clothing falling off of her body, what chance is there of things going further? The daddy in this little tale is a real estate agent, who knows how to seal a big deal.
A 3400 word story, not including back matter and teasers.
“Well how do we do it?” I ask him.
“We can start right now, with a kiss,” he proposes.
I was right. The idea was in the air. Now my handsome, but very old daddy, with two days of rough whiskers, is putting his wet lips on mine. It’s not accidental, like those kisses meant for your cheek that land on your lips by mistake. My daddy is trying to kiss me right on the lips. It’s on purpose. He smells like the beer he drank before we went swimming. He’s trying to work my mouth open. I’ve got no idea what will happen if I let him take things so incredibly far. Kissing on the lips is too much!
His hand has just touched my breast. “No daddy! Jease!” I push him away.
“Relax Hayley. I want to make out.”
My right breast will never be the same. It will always have the memory of my daddy’s hand on it. I can’t believe he would do that. I can’t believe he would say he would want to make out. What is that anyway? Something they used to say in the eighties?
“Hayley, you could make me feel so good. And if you be nice to me I’ll be so nice to you.”
I’ve been too careless with words. He has thrust his hand between my legs and is prodding around at my wetness. He’s too strong and determined. I can’t push him away.
“No, dad. I’m wet there. You can’t!”
“Stupid girl. The wetness means that you like it.”