Chapter 11

The proof was in the Velcro fly I had sewn into it and my daughter’s virginal blood stains around the crotch. I distinctly recalled throwing it in the garbage and couldn’t figure out how she ended up with it. I was looking at the costume in my hands and she began to explain, “I came home the next morning and you were out running errands, I guess. I was just going about my business when I went to throw something away and I saw this under some trash in the can. When I pulled it out, I recognized it immediately. I panicked and took it with me back to my friend’s—I didn’t tell her, though.”

I looked up at her and my eyes were starting to get blurry. I said, “Erin, you have to believe me: I had no idea it was you! I didn’t know until I saw you with your tat...” She stopped me in my tracks and said she knew that and not to worry; she was ‘ok’ with it.

I told her that I was sorry for not saying anything, but I wanted to save her from knowing the truth about what happened; afraid she would never get over it. She said to stop worrying and that she was fine about the entire incident.

She said she was a little freaked out at first, but then realized that neither of us knew who the other was and we were just enjoying some random sex. We just happened to beat all odds and ended up having sex with each other. I asked her if she was really ok with what happened and she nodded her head in a casual, matter-of-fact way.

I asked if she was sure she wanted to keep the baby, knowing I was the father and she said, “This is our baby! Of course I’m sure! Daddy, you are the best Dad in the world, and I know you will love our baby as much as you love me.” I knew she was right and couldn’t argue against her. I folded the costume back up and was putting it back in the bag when she asked,

“What are you doing?” I said, “I’m putting it back in the bag...” She responded saying, “I see that. But why?” I looked at her blankly not understanding her question. She said, “I believe you made a promise to me. You said you would do something for me if I asked and I asked you to put the suit on...” Erin’s tone had changed to a teasing and seductive tone.

I said, “Erin, are you asking me what it sounds like you are asking me?” She said, “Come on Dad: don’t become a prude on me now. Think about it: you have seen every part of me in recent times; you sucked on every bit of my vagina—which was amazing, by the way—we’ve already had sex—twice—and because of a defective batch of condoms, I’m pregnant with your child. And unless I’m crazy, you enjoyed sex with me as much as I enjoyed it with you.

Hell: you’ve been walking around with a ‘semi’ since you saw my tattoo! So I know you are thinking about me! Well, I’ve been thinking about you. No one else knows about what happened and it would stay between us. And it’s not like you can get me MORE pregnant!”

She made some good points, but what she was suggesting made me nervous. I said, “That is all true. But what you are talking about is different than what happened between us at the party. When we had sex, we didn’t know we were having sex with each other. But now you are suggesting that we knowingly and willingly have sex and I think that would just make things awkward between us.”

She responded by saying, “I’ve known it was you since the next morning and I don’t feel awkward around you. You have known the truth for two weeks and you haven’t been acting awkward; you still love me the same as you always have. I’m not suggesting we start dating, fall in love and try to pass ourselves off as husband and wife or something; it’s just sex—really good sex—but just sex.”

I still wasn’t sure about what she was offering; the taboo of it was so overwhelming. Erin said, “I’ll tell you what, I want to show you something and if you are still resistant, then I’ll accept it and we’ll move on; I won’t bring it up again. OK?” I had no idea what she had in mind, but was nervous about what the ‘something’ could be. I reluctantly agreed to her proposal.