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In the Shadow of Young Girls in Bloom (Devilla Roche and Greg Grey)

Okay, alarm bells again.

"H-hold on..." I stammer, in surprise, as even then she sets her shoulders straighter, chest out just that tiny bit. She is suddenly too...mature.

Don't look down, I tell myself, that'll just make things worse...

I am able to maintain her gaze, I still keep smiling. But still I see, suddenly, what others see when they look at her. The overdeveloped body, too ripe for such a young age. They see the long legs, the swan's neck, the fresh skin of the bare, trim shoulders. They're not looking at Daddy's little girl, my baby Linny. They're looking at a young vixen fleshing out right before their eyes, already curvier, more filled out and more fertile than most women. Boys see her this way...older boys. Older men. I've noticed the glances here in the mall, tried to ignore them. But I think of her male teachers, them looking at her in this way too, and my blood starts to heat...anger? Protective instincts? Or something else?

I know what I should say: "older boys might try to take advantage of you", or "what's wrong with boys your own age?"

Yet what I do say is this:"...a-are the older <I can't get myself to say 'men'> boys interested in you..?" It's an innocent question, right?

But then, to make matters worse, my gaze breaks. A barely noticeable swelling of her (shockingly big) chest has drawn my eye for just the briefest of seconds, and what was a question of fatherly concern sounds suddenly like something else...
 
He continues to stutter and his hand is as sweaty as you can get...

Then I notice....

Is he? Can he? Gee, he's looking at my big tits? What a perv, I think to myself, but then I think, but somehow instead of thinking its disgusting (which is what my Mom would say) I find it to be cute....and then I feel it deep down inside me...my pussy tingles...which means, I'm finding my Daddy to be quite attractive right now...is it because he's like some of those boys I make nervous? Yes, I think. They are young and pimply faced. But, Daddy, he's older, and handsome, and I love all that stubble on his face...OMG, what is happening....

Then my outward response is in a voice that becomes very sultry in its tone...and a bit playful....

I smile....

"I think there are a lot of boys interested in me. I can even think of one in particular. One that is very nice, very handsome, and someone that I know very well."
 
Why am I so anxious, so nervous? Why is a sweat breaking out on my brow? Why are my words starting to fail me? It must be how uncomfortable this topic is for me. Is it that I can't tolerate the thought of older boys scamming on my little girl? Or - worse - teachers looking at her lechourously?

Whatever it is, I know I have to be a father here, address this. But I don't want to be the hard-ass dad. I want to sound like a friend, right?

"Really?" I say, trying to sound nonchalant, "That's, uh, c-cool. W-who's the guy?"
 
I pull back and remove my hands from Daddy's...after hearing his question I get nervous and take a long sip of my shake...it gives me time to think...do I say something and have him look at me then say something that Mom would say? Tell me how wrong that is and explain to me the issues of incest and the fact that I'm a minor? Oh, and then there is our age difference -

I stop myself right there and muster up the courage and smile...then grab his hands again...I don't care what he might say or think...I through caution in the wind and lean over the table and whisper in his ear....I turn on the charm and that sweet sound of innocence in my voice and say...

"It's you Daddy. It's you."

I slowly sit back down, my curvaceous bottom filling my seat again...I sit there, take another sip of my shake and look at him with my innocent eyes, then break into a smile as I wait for his reaction...
 
Okay, do I really want to hear this? I think, as she takes a purposefully long draw on her thick vanilla shake, Do I want to hear who this guy is, this older boy who's taken an interest in my little daughter?

She's nervous herself to tell me, I can see, her eyes cast downward in thought. Maybe it's not even a boy, I think, maybe it's...an even older dude. Maybe even a teacher. What would I do? What would I say..? Am I being ridiculous? Over-nervous?

But then, she leans forward with a smile, grabbing my hands again and whispers the answer in my ear...

?me?

...what a relief!

Of course!

"Of course!" I laugh, as we both sit back, "Of course I'm interested in you! I love you, and I'm your main man!" How adorable is she, telling me that I'm the most important 'boy' for her? She doesn't need a boyfriend, at this age! She's got me!

Her brow has wrinkled a little, and she doesn't say anything. She's looking at me funny, with a wry little smile - but I don't care! Little moments like this are what warm fathers' hearts.

"C'mon, sweetie," I say, pulling out my wallet, "Finish up and let's go - there were some shoes you wanted, right?"
 
Okay, do I really want to hear this? I think, as she takes a purposefully long draw on her thick vanilla shake, Do I want to hear who this guy is, this older boy who's taken an interest in my little daughter?

She's nervous herself to tell me, I can see, her eyes cast downward in thought. Maybe it's not even a boy, I think, maybe it's...an even older dude. Maybe even a teacher. What would I do? What would I say..? Am I being ridiculous? Over-nervous?

But then, she leans forward with a smile, grabbing my hands again and whispers the answer in my ear...

?me?

...what a relief!

Of course!

"Of course!" I laugh, as we both sit back, "Of course I'm interested in you! I love you, and I'm your main man!" How adorable is she, telling me that I'm the most important 'boy' for her? She doesn't need a boyfriend, at this age! She's got me!

Her brow has wrinkled a little, and she doesn't say anything. She's looking at me funny, with a wry little smile - but I don't care! Little moments like this are what warm fathers' hearts.

"C'mon, sweetie," I say, pulling out my wallet, "Finish up and let's go - there were some shoes you wanted, right?"
 
...later that evening.

I'm happy, of course, still knowing I'm the center of Linny's world in a lot of ways. An important male figure to her, especially after the divorce. She'll be growing up fast, soon, and this isn't going to last forever. I know I should enjoy it while it lasts.

But those words...those words she whispered in my ear at the burger shop:

"It's you Daddy. It's you."
Click to expand...

They sound different to me, now. Now, as the two of us sit here in the semi-dark of my apartment, watching this movie she'd been asking for, my mind is running over those words as I look at her.

I'm on the couch, slouched, and she's - as usual - laying on the floor in front of me, feet towards me and facing the television. I'm watching the movie - some teen beach romance thing - but my eyes can't help but drift down to her.

She's in her pajamas which, these days, have tended to skimpier and skimpier little outfits. Tonight it's a white tank top and tiny shorts of soft cotton, baby pink with white piping. It's making me uncomfortable, the view I have - her bottom, facing me, her long legs stretched out. She squirms a fidgets, from time to time, constantly moving like a typical young teen. Occasionally her rear rises a little bit, presenting itself even more indecently. She's got the butt of a very curvaceous woman, already, a big butt, and when she does things like this <Linny raises her rear into the air, stretching, stretching her shorts to the max> it looks even bigger. I have to look away, it's too much of a display from my own daughter.

The movie's only halfway over, but I decide I need to leave.

"Hey sweetie," I say, standing from the couch, "I'm beat." She turns her head towards me, looking over her shoulder. I smile. "You can tell me how it ends tomorrow, I'll see you at breakfast - g'night..."

She says goodnight to me, and I leave her to her movie. Bedtime for me.
 
The movie ends...all the while Daddy's reaction to my words, well, they sort of confuse me a bit....did he not like me in that way? Did he try to avoid what I think is the obvious? Maybe he just doesn't like my type? I could be older, I could wear more grown up outfits I guess. Would that make him like me better? Would that make me more attractive to him?

I get up and go into the kitchen...open the door and stare at the food, at the milk....then I look down the hall toward his bedroom...I close the door and walk, I walk and as I do something possesses me to take off my top....then I take off my shorts...then my panties...I'm naked....I open the door to his bedroom...cross my legs, my arm sexily hung up on the door frame...my hair down, cascades of hair...I'm a silhouette and I see that Daddy, being a light sleeper, turns to me...I'm nervous, but stand tall and then say....

"It's you Daddy. It's you."

I advance toward him one step at a time and place my hand on his face...I bend forward, my breasts hanging downward and pronounced....I reach out and grab his chin and whisper with my puffy, cock sucking lips....

"it's you Daddy. I like you like only a woman can like a man."

Then, I place my lips on his and offer him a kiss hoping that he will kiss me back and not make me out like I'm crazy or somehow this is wrong...
 
"I heard she's a double-D..." the one kid is whispering furtively to the other.

"Duuuuude..!" the other kid laughs back, and the two high-five, "She is perf..!"

This little conversation is happening right in front of me in the gym bleachers, at this JV basketball game. It's Linny's first game she's cheering for, a new member of the squad, and these two morons have no idea it's her dad sitting behind them, in the middle of the crowd, at the game.

They continue to point and ogle and leer, but trying to be covert in their wide-eyed, pubescent admiration. Deciding not to say anything, I eventually just try to filter them out - before I end up punching somebody. I do watch the game - as ramshackle as it is, these gawky teens running up and down the court - but can't help but see what has these two morons so worked up: Linny is quite the spectacle.

The whole things just makes me more agitated. I have lived this last month, since Linny made that confused pass at me that night in my bedroom, in total turmoil. I refused her, of course, when she came to my bedside naked and kissed me. I sat up, and - after a moment of panic and confusion - somehow kept my composure. I covered her up, sat her down, and we talked. The poor girl! She's taking this divorce harder than I thought! Of course it was her acting out against her mother, this sexual advance on me. It was, wasn't it? She's distraught, troubled, having a hard time at what's already the hardest, most confusing time in her young life. Hormones raging, body changing, and now this - her mom and dad split up. But - did I have to tell her mom, my ex-wife, about this? Did Linny need counseling, professional intervention? Maybe it was a poor decision on my part, partly fueled by the awkwardness of the situation and the desire for discretion - but I decided against it, against involving others. We'd handle this between us...between father and daughter.

But still, I can't help but see it...and I see it differently now, I think with self-reproach, than I would have a month ago. In front of the crowd, lined up aside all the other JV cheerleaders, Linny looks like a woman among girls. She's tall, she's leggy, and she's built. And this uniform she's wearing - white with light blue detailing, a big "L" (for 'Lakeside') stretched across the chest, the shortest of skirts - does nothing to hide the fact that her figure is years ahead of her birthdays. When the other girls bounce, Linny bounces. When the other girls shake, she shakes. And when they all smile, she smiles. It makes me sweat.

And it's not just me and the two twerps in front of me who are watching this; when I look around during the breaks when the girls get up for their routines, lots of male eyes are pointed towards my daughter. Watching her big chest bounce up and down in her sweater, watching her long legs kick, her hips roll and sway. Great...my daughter's an unwitting sexpot, I think, as I turn red in...what is it? Anger? Chagrin? Jealousy? She's so young! Just a kid! Keep your eyes off her, all you!?

But I suffer through the cheers, the routines between periods, and finally the game is done. The varsity game is to follow, and I don't plan on staying. Linny's getting a ride home from a friend, but I wanted to say goodbye to her before I leave, tell her she did well. I steel myself for that. The crowd starts to thin, people getting up to stretch their legs (not the two boys in front of me, though), some milling about down on the floor, but I stay put. A number of rows up off the court, I'm looking around, craning my neck, trying to see where Linny is...still with the cheerleaders? I don't see her...
 
Linny's uniform is tight on her and, even with her lace bra, her nipples are well pronounced...she seems to give it a never no mind, but yes the growth of Linny is apparent and she changes day by day....

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I come up to Daddy from the side and surprise him....
"Hi Daddy!!! Did you see me cheer!!! Wasn't I good? And, oh, Lakeside won (I raise one of my pom-poms) whoo-hoo!!! Hey listen, I have a ride with my friend Jeanine back to Mom's house. So glad you came. ~I give him a peck on the cheek~ So, I'll see you this weekend?? You'll come get me and then we'll have a whole month to catch up. Love ya, buy Daddy." ~another kiss on the cheek~

....and away she goes to catch up with her friend Jeanine....
 
I'm nervous for this, I'm definitely nervous for this.

A whole month.

Excited, actually. Right? Excited? I shouldn't be nervous. She's my daughter. This'll be great. We'll have the chance to catch up.

Linny and I haven't had this much time together since the divorce. I'd had my weekends with her, sure...but this coming month, with her mom away on a business trip, it'd be just me and her. It'll be great, right? We'll have fun. We'll reconnect. We'll be able to put that awkward moment, that confused pass she made at me last month behind us.

Right?

Nervous? Maybe, a little. I just want everything to be perfect. I picked up the apartment, I got some grocery shopping done last evening. I think I'm all set...

...so why am I sweating?

I'm in the car, waiting outside the house - it used to be my house, now it's not. I've been waiting a while, biut don't dare go to the door. I avoid seeing her - my ex-wife - these days, as much as I can, and I'm sure she's inside. It's uncomfortable and with all these changes in our lives - her job/my job, her life/my life - she always makes me feel sorta...I dunno...small.

But, finally, I watch Linny emerge, bounding out the front door with a backpack, running towards the car...
 
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"Yes Mom, don't worry. It's just Daddy. Yes, I promise. I know you'll miss me for a whole month, I'll miss you too. Mom, Dad's waiting."

Linny kisses her mother on the cheek and then they hug....

I grab my small pink backpack and quickly close the door...then down the steps I go, my boobies are a juggling...I can't help it....I'm so excited to see my Daddy....I just throw my bag into the car, since Daddy is in his convertible...I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a big kiss....I don't care if my ass is sticking into the street as I bend down....

"Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! Oh Daddy, it so good to see you!"
 
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