“You really were pretty damned cute in that outfit, you know,” he said. “Do you remember the video we watched that night?”
“How could I forget,” I laughed. “I must have watched it a bazillion times.”
Then I had an idea.
“Dad,” I ventured, “Let’s do it over. We still got the video,” I said, smiling sheepishly, “and I still have the costume.”
“I guess so,” Dad said, “if that’s really what you want, Beth.”
I stood up, bouncing with eager energy in my little sports bra and panties, and shook my finger at him.
“Don’t call me Beth,” I said. “Call me…TINK!”
I turned my back to him and did my little Tinker Bell butt wiggle and ran into my bedroom before he could scold me.
It took me a few minutes to find the old costume. It was buried beneath several layers of old clothes in the bottom of my closet, but it was none the worse for age, still a bright green, and cute as I remembered it. Needless to say, I had grown three and a half inches, which made a shitload of difference when it came to the hem, but when I looked in the mirror, I realized how much closer it was to the actual hem placement in the movies of Tinker Bell. I had to jimmy it around so that the tip of one of the zigzags just covered my twat. Yup! It was perfect! The two-way tape had lost its adhesive, but that really didn’t matter because my little B-cups filled out the upper garment just right. I was a plum ready to be plucked.
Next I put on some make-up, applying thin lines to my eyes to make them look bigger and give them that inviting flutter. Then I applied some ruby lipstick very carefully to give my lips a small little pucker, another vision of that plum ready to be plucked. I gave myself a nod of approval and went back into the living room. Dad had already started the video and it was sailing through some previews before the main attraction, but he lost all track of it when he laid his eyes on me.
“Shit!” was all that he could say. “I mean, Honey, you look…” groping for the right word.
“Cute?” I smiled, happy that I could catch him at a loss for words. I walked into the kitchen. I could feel his eyes on me all the way, but wasn’t going to embarrass him by noticing. I fixed some hot chocolate and we snuggled on the couch to enjoy the movie. I felt extremely happy and contented inside, like I could have lived that moment forever.
We laughed and talked as the movie played. I told him how I thought Tink was the ultimate cartoon slut. Dad looked at me like I was crazy, until I began to stop the action and point out things. Then the video came to the part where she was bending over in the middle of Pixie Hollow, fairies all around her. Of course, you could only see her from the front.
“But look, Dad. Look how short her dress is. Add to that the fact that she’s not wearing any fucking underwear. Half of Pixie Hollow is standing behind her. What do you think they see?”
He shrugged. I rolled my eyes.
“Look,” I continued, and stood up, “You’re one half of Pixie Hollow and I’m bending over, which looks pretty innocent.” Then, giggling, I turned around with my back to Dad, and bending over I said, “But now you’re the other half of the fucking population and what do you see!”
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