Chapter 11

For the whole two-hour drive home, all I could think about was what Riley had told me she wanted me to do. I couldn’t believe she wanted me to tease or even possibly seduce my own father. Sure, it was likely just for her own sexual appetites, but did I want her messing around with my Dad? The thought was so weird, even though I could see the hypocrisy of having sex with Riley’s Dad but not allowing her to do the same thing to mine.

I tried my best to rationalize and approach it from every angle. When you have two hours and nothing but a highway to look at, I found it best just to let my mind go wild. The best argument against it, while not being hypocritical, was that Curtis and I had started messing around before I’d even met Riley. It was just a fluke accident we crossed paths in that camp washroom that first night, all due to the stupid raccoon.

But what if I did do it? What would that make me? It could mean I’d contribute to my Dad cheating on my mom, and I didn’t like to think about that. Then there was the incestuous aspect to it, which made it worse. I’d already watched a father and daughter have sex, right in front of me, but it wasn’t MY father. For reasons I didn’t know yet, Riley chose to do what she did with her Dad. While Curtis wasn’t exactly aware that she was his daughter, it had always been clear that he wanted her, probably as much or more than me. Would my Dad be the same? Was Riley correct when she said all fathers want their own daughters?

It was one of the last things she’d said that really struck a chord in my head, though; the two hours flew by as I entered the city again. The words Every girl’s first crush is her father played over and over in my mind as I tried to unpack each syllable. Did that mean Riley always secretly wanted her own Dad, just like he wanted her? Was this a normal thing for fathers and daughters? I don’t remember ever hearing any of my friends talk about it before, not that I think I would if it were true.

I don’t think I ever really thought of my Dad that way. Or did I? I loved my Dad. He’s always been so loving and caring, spoiling me whenever he could. I remember when I was little, we’d go to the zoo every other weekend and look at the monkeys. I don’t know why, but I always liked watching them run around all awkwardly on the ground but then climb so effortlessly in the trees. Dad used to call me his little monkey when I’d try to climb a tree in the park afterward.

It was memories like those that made me question whether I wanted to participate in Riley’s game. What if Dad looked at me differently after having sex with Riley? Sure, it wasn’t actually me, but like Curtis, it was a gateway to wanting the real thing. Then the opposite could be true as well; what if I looked at my Dad differently, knowing he’s had sex with a duplicate of me? Or worse, knowing he willfully cheated on Mom, and I was mostly to blame for it. Would doing such a thing ruin all the happy memories from my childhood, wondering if they were all lies?

As I pulled into our parking spot and started to unload, I knew I had a lot to think about still. I mean, even if I agreed to do what Riley wanted, and teased my Dad enough to want me, when Riley did visit, where would they even do stuff? Our condo was nothing like the giant house the Sommers had. We didn’t have a pool or a soundproof basement sex room. It was a reasonably sized two-bedroom condo on the third floor of a five-story building. There wasn’t a lot of space for privacy. I knew that from first-hand experience.

I walked up the front steps and fumbled with the keys, my arms heavy with bags, as I tried to unlock the front door of the building. In my clumsiness, I dropped them on the ground and cursed as I tried to pick them up. I heard a click of the front door, just as I managed to retrieve my keys.

“Did you climb Everest with all those bags, Jane?” I immediately recognized the voice of Mrs. Beauchamp, who lived in 2B. She was an older lady in her sixties who lived alone with two cats named Chester and Zoey. I would usually cat sit for her when she’d leave to visit her grandkids. She’d pay me ten dollars and bake me an apple pie as a thank you.

“Hello, Mrs. Beauchamp. No, I just got back from visiting a friend. How are the kitties?”

“Rambunctious as always. How long did you go for? If I saw you leaving with all that, I’d have guessed you were moving away.”

“It was only for four nights, but I may have overpacked. I didn’t even wear half the stuff I brought. I should get going, though. This stuff weighs a ton.”

I said goodbye and made my way up the stairs to the third floor, rounded the corner, and unlocked the door to our unit, 3A. I dropped the bags on the floor as the door closed, my arms giving out, and as Mom raced over to hug me. While I wish I could have stayed at Riley’s longer, it was good to be home. Dad came out from the kitchen, his shirt wet, likely from washing dishes, and welcomed me home, too. I gave him a hug as well, but for me, it already felt different. He wasn’t just my Dad anymore; I looked at him now as a man.

The rest of the day, Mom and Dad asked me about my visit with Riley and the Sommers family. I told them about their house and pool, how they lived in this cute little, small town like something from a Hallmark movie. I showed them the friendship bracelet I made with Riley and what her boyfriend was like. I did talk about our visit to the quarry. They weren’t too thrilled that I’d been trespassing on private land. I obviously skipped certain details in my story, not mentioning all the sex and other problematic activities I participated in while there.

By the end of the night, and with a quick call to Riley, we confirmed that she could stay with us in three weeks for the same number of nights. I could hear her gleefully squealing on the other end of the phone before I promised to text her later and hung up. My parents seemed excited that we’d have a visitor and rattled off a bunch of things we could all do together. I couldn’t help but watch my Dad’s face as they discussed Riley’s stay. He seemed a little extra excited over my mom, and I couldn’t help but wonder why. Was Riley’s theory correct, and my Dad was exactly like Curtis? I didn’t know.

As I lay in my own bed that night, my sleeping clothes now felt tight and suffocating around my body. I’d gotten used to sleeping naked the past few nights, and I’d liked it. Sure, some days of the month, that wouldn’t be possible, but as I pulled my shirt over my head and peeled off my panties, I knew I would do this as often as I could. It just felt right, yet the bed felt large and empty, like something was missing.

I was awakened in the morning by a knock at my door; my mom was telling me to get up. I wasn’t used to that, having slept in most nights the past several days. Although, most of those nights I’d been up late playing with Curtis or Riley, or both. My pussy itched as I thought about wanting someone to touch me again and how long it would be until I would get to enjoy that feeling once again.

The shower felt bigger and roomier, as I shampooed my hair. I did sort of enjoy being able to move around in the shower without the fear of clocking Riley in the face with my arm. I did miss her hands on me though, as I imagined them slipping down my body and splitting my pussy lips with her fingers. She was so good at fingering me, knowing exactly the right spots to press and when. I don’t know how she learned to pleasure a girl like that, maybe like me, she just did what she enjoyed.