She was quiet. It occurred to me that this was all a ticking timebomb. Her logic seemed sound now, in the eyes of a young girl rationalizing too many things at once. Someday she’d turn into a protective mother and realize just how fucked up I was and what I’d done. She was my wife’s daughter after all. Then again, maybe she was speaking some kind of truth that’d last. Seeing how the consequences hadn’t played out at all how I expected, I didn’t know.
“I appreciate what you’re saying. But, I took advantage of being your dad. And that in itself is very wrong. No matter what. And I’ll always be sorry.”
She shrugged, “I’m kind of hoping we could be something unique. Not special, and not like yucky romantic or anything. You’re my dad and I’m not going to, like, have feelings for you. But I want us to have total truth, and I’m in control. You had your one time being out of control, and now I’m in control. No more rapey creepy shit, OK? Period. Whatever I say is what goes.”
I nodded, “Never.”
She sat back, relaxing. It was still rather surreal how normal she was, but a teenager’s life is full of perversions and insane sexual situations. Look at how absurd the most popular pop song and video of the year was. A video of naked women dancing to a song about rape. She was probably more sexually mature than I was.
“So, I want to ask you questions, about sexual stuff, and you have to answer me like a man. Like the man who snuck up on me the other day. I like having no bullshit between us, it’s a refreshing change for this family.”
I nodded, “Anything, hun. Whatever you want.”
She thought for a moment.
“Do you think I’m as pretty as the girl in that video?”
This harkened back to the reason young girls danced to pop songs. Part of them wanted to be the star, to be beautiful and have all the attention. I remembered our agreement, and the mood in the air.
“If I was being your father, I’d remind you that you were the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. But…we’re talking about the brown-haired one, the girl that’s getting famous?”
She nodded, “Her name is Emily. All the guys at school are obsessed with her.”
“Right, hmm…if you want the truth from a perverts perspective….her breasts might be a bit bigger, but yours have a nicer shape. Her abs are too small, and she has no belly button. Your abs are perfect and your hips come out more so you have better proportions. You have a little tuft of fat over your belly that a guy wants to dig his thumbs into when he’s inside you, riding you.”
I just realized what words were coming out of my mouth, and how surreal it all was. My inhibitions were gone. The neurosis was fueling me. I was talking off the top of my head.
“And you’re far prettier. She has a nice face, nice chin…you have deep, very faraway eyes. Brighter eyes. Same if not nicer chin/cheeks. And a better ass, more perky, more tight.”
She blushed a little, “Oh my God that’s really true. I can tell. So…you’d rather fuck me than her?”
I squirmed a little, “I don’t think there’s any question. Look at what I risked to do that. I risked ruining my life just to touch you.”
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