Chapter 8

ESCORTING SIA INTO DR. ANSTONS’S office, I let them chat while the doctor examined her.

Newly minted teenage girls are a mystery I’d yet to decode. I’d made a decision to let our illicit relationship develop at Sia’s speed, but I didn’t understand her speed at all. Last night, Tuesday, Sia had decided to snuggle next to me while we watched TV. We’d exchanged a few delightful kisses, those soft, loving, intimate kisses I enjoyed so much, her eyes so bright and happy. She’d been satisfied to cuddle in bed, happy with some more kisses, but that was all. She’d fallen asleep.

Not half an hour later she’d rolled away from me and curled up. She really wasn’t a snuggler. In the middle of the night, I woke up shivering. Sia had stolen the whole quilt and was buried under it, her dark hair splayed across the pillow - the only sign of my daughter being in bed. I’d reclaimed my portion of the quilt and cuddled up to her. She was icy cold. It took a while for my body to warm enough to fall asleep.

This morning, when I woke to get ready for work, she’d only stirred, rolling over, taking the quilt with her. She’d hardly noticed my kiss on her forehead when I left.

“Mr. Hicks?”

I glanced at Dr. Anston.

“Sia is fine. She’s recovering remarkably well. I understand she wants to go back to school and that’s fine. However, I’ve told her no physical exercise, no P.E. classes for the next three weeks. We can’t take any chances of another hit to her head.”

Sia smiled brightly.

“Okay,” I agreed. “Are you sure she’s fine?”

“Yes. Why? Have you noticed anything unusual in her behavior?”

With a quick glance at my daughter, I informed Dr. Anston about her newly discerning sense of smell.

Dr. Anston nodded as I related the change. “It can be a side effect from concussion. While rare, it usually passes. I wouldn’t be concerned. Does it bother you?” she asked Sia.

“Nope.”

“She’s not the one who has to cook,” I pointed out with a grin.

Dr. Anston smiled. “Well then, aside from the menu, there’s nothing to worry about. I’ll see you in two weeks, Sia.”

I’d taken half a day off to deliver my daughter to her follow-up exam. It was four-fifteen when we left the hospital. Weather was calm, skies blue and cloudless, temperature still bitter.

The Old Sod ignored my key turning in the ignition.

“So, what next?” I asked my daughter foolishly, while thumping the dash a few times. The Ford was a contumacious bastard. It grumbled before eventually farting a cloud of black smoke and wheezing into life.

“Let’s go to the movies! I feel like I’ve been a prisoner at home forever.”

“It was two days at home, Sia, not a year in Siberia.”

“It felt like a year. So, want to take me to the movies?” she asked, adding with a grin, “Chili dogs for dinner? Fries? Chili fries? Yes?”

She knew my junk food weakness too well. “Okay. I get to pick the movie.”

“Okay.”

Standing in line for tickets, Sia tugged at my sleeve. “Are you sure?” she asked. “Wouldn’t you rather see Star Wars?”

“My choice. Brooklyn sounds good.”

“But Star Wars sounds better, doesn’t it?”

I wanted to see Star Wars, but couldn’t let the opportunity to bother Sia pass. “Maybe Joy would be interesting. It’s a comedy drama,” I observed looking at the display above the ticket counter.

“Star Wars is a comedy drama, too. Maybe we should see it,” Sia insisted.

We moved to the ticket seller, a lovely young girl with a bright smile, blonde hair, perky disposition. “How can I help you?” she asked.

“One adult, one pest-of-a-teenager for Joy,” I said.

Sia leaned in. “He means Star Wars,” she informed the girl.

“Brooklyn,” I said.

“Don’t listen to him. He wants to see Star Wars.”

The ticket seller froze, confused. I winked at her. She smiled, tapped the computer screen and announced the price. Paying, she handed me the tickets.

“Enjoy Brooklyn,” she said.

Sia grumbled at my side. She had a delightful frown, too.

The ticket taker took our tickets, tore them, and handed them back. “Star Wars is playing in cinema two, to your left.”

Sia grinned. “You’re a real pain, Dad,” she informed me. “So, chili dog or chili fries?”

The theater was jamb-packed. I truly enjoyed it despite it being a copy of the first Star Wars, the original first. Almost all elements were the same; a person living on a desert-like planet, a robot with a secret, a challenge facing them - a bigger Death Star. Still, it was entertaining, exciting, the special effects good, 3D adding to the experience, and a large serving of chili fries filled me very nicely.

It seemed my lovely daughter wasn’t as sex-obsessed as I was. That night she stole the quilt. I stole it back, cuddled to her chilly body, and warmed her up - the fatherly thing to do. I did get to enjoy her body pressed against mine, inhale her sleeping scent, and have her gorgeous butt nestled into my groin. Life could be worse.

Throughout Thursday, I was distracted at work. I was beginning to doubt Sia wanted to escalate our intimacy. Perhaps she was happy with kisses and hugging. I wasn’t. It struck me midmorning as I was running quality checks on the purified water, that I hadn’t actually seen my daughter naked. I wanted to see her naked. Very much now. I knew the shape of her delightful breasts, the swell of her beautiful rump, and the shape of her sexy pussy by touch. My imagination teased me endlessly. What would she look like? Her body was still slender, beautifully coltish, as yet unaffected by maturing curves. However, with her petite breasts what would she look like?

My commitment to let our relationship develop at her speed was cracking under the weight of my desire.

I should have known better than to second-guess my daughter. When I walked in the door at the end of the day, Sia appeared and leapt up at me.

“Dad! You’re home!”

I held her up off the floor and enjoyed how she nuzzled her face into my neck, such a loving gesture.

“I missed you,” she murmured, her legs wrapping around my waist.

I held her butt to support her, a lovely piece of teenage anatomy. As I inhaled her sensual scent, she kissed my neck. Her kiss moved to my chin. Her pretty face appeared, blue and hazel eyes sparkling. Then, with a slight tilt of her head, her eyes studying each part of my face, she smiled briefly before kissing me. And I mean kissing me!

Her lips pressed to mine. A murmur preceded the tip of her tongue emerging. Fresh warm breath wafted against my cheek. I fell into the kiss, my tongue joining hers, heat emerging, passion rising, an erection forming. It was a deep kiss that left me quite breathless when it ended, my heart beating harder.

“Mmmm,” she murmured, “Delicious.”

Dismounting from me, she smiled. “Go change and make dinner. I’m hungry.”

Changed and cooking, my daughter kept me company, sitting at the old oak kitchen table chatting away, giving me a blow by blow update on her day at school; Robin was dating a new boy, although they hadn’t actually gone on a date, yet, “But they’re an item,” and Lara telling her how sorry her mom is for the accident, and that the high school quarterback was arrested for drinking beer in his dad’s car with two other guys while driving, “Math class is hard, Dad,” and, “I’ve been invited to a sleepover at Lara’s. Can I go?”

Turning porcini and spinach-stuffed pork chops in the frying pan, while stirring a mushroom and parmesan risotto, I enjoyed her commentary. I liked her effervescence. Clearly, being at school was better than staying home.

“So can I?”

“Can you what? Set the table, please.”

“Go to the sleepover at Lara’s. I just told you.”

“Are boys going to be there?” I asked, beginning to plate dinner.

“Daaaad!”

“Is Lara’s mom driving anywhere?” I asked, putting two plates on the table.

“Daaaad. Really! The accident wasn’t her fault!”

“Okay.”

Sia bent and smelled her food. “Did you put garlic and shallots in the risotto? I like it. It smells good.”

She followed her approval by inhaling dinner. By bedtime, I was in a state. When she slipped under the quilt, wearing the same nightshirt she’d worn before, rational thoughts had been displaced by more intimate perspectives that had hounded me all day. After a particularly arousing smooch, lips nibbled, and a soft, young body pressed against me, I finally broke down, horniness demolishing my morals.

Combing my fingers through her hair, I said softly, “I haven’t seen you undressed yet.”

“Haven’t seen you either,” she responded.

“I’d really, really like to.”

She studied me in the bluish light cast out from the television, smiled, and said softly, “Kay. I’d like to, too. See you naked, that is.”

I had plans, detailed plans, or dreams at least. Undressing my daughter would be so erotic; slowly unveiling each part of her, kissing bared skin as it appeared, tasting her skin. I was going to cherish each action, study her in her panties, slowly peel them down to expose her most private part to my eyes, that part forbidden to a father. I was going to be the first guy to see my daughter naked. I had plans.

Sia clearly didn’t understand the importance of being undressed by someone else, of mutual excitement building as we discovered curves, muscles, erotic dips and swells, exciting nooks and crannies.

Nope.

She rolled away from me and, hidden by the damn quilt, writhed. A nightshirt was tossed to the floor. More writhing ensued and, before I could yell stop, pink cotton panties were tossed out.

Sia peered at me. “What’cha waiting for?”

Shoot!

I pulled off my pajama bottoms, kicking them to the bottom of the bed. She scooted towards me, buried under the cover. The moment bare skin touched me, thoughts of undressing her vanished.

She pressed herself to me, front-to-front, bare skin to bare skin, my erection sliding up her stomach. I didn’t need sight. My hands discovered her sensual beauty. Sia was full of gentle curves; her spine knobby, shoulder blades prominent, the sweep of her back ending at the erotic swell of her compact rear, her buttocks slightly cool. They were mounds of sculpted beauty, curving down to blend into silken thighs. I held her buttock, my fingertip tracing down the exciting valley between.

Sia’s hands rubbed my chest. She kissed it before looking up at me. She smiled sweetly when I kissed her, a light brush of our lips. My hand moved up to her hip and discovered a sensual dip to her waist, her almost delicate side, and, with breath held, I cupped my daughter’s petite naked breast.

It was stunning, exciting, the shape of perfection, her nipple a hard bead rubbing on my palm. Adolescence was simply magnificent.

“You feel wonderful,” I whispered, caressing her.

Sia responded by easing her knee between my legs. Her hand glided down my arm to rest on my hip. We kissed again and Sia electrified me by letting her fingertips drop between us to trace the side of my erection pressed to her stomach, a feather-light touch, so arousing as it slowly trailed up my shaft to brush against the crown. Precum leaked. Her fingertip teased the tip spreading it. The ache of desire blossomed; desire for even more.