“Dad?” Emily’s voice was hesitant, like she was afraid of bringing up whatever she had to say.

“What’s up, hon?” Ever since she was little I had always been willing to answer her questions. Let me tell you, answering a twelve-year-old’s questions about her period were damn embarrassing. That was definitely a day I had extra curses for Ralph Meefmeyer, the drunk idiot that had killed Emily’s mother Janet ten years prior. I’d just been thankful she had never asked me sex-related questions. Of course, with the Internet now being a thing kids no longer had to trust schoolyard rumor, they could easily find correct answers to those questions.

“I ... I want Mister Scarney!” This came out in a rush, like if she didn’t get it all out in one breath she wouldn’t have had the courage to finish.

“Whatcha mean?” though I was suddenly afraid I knew.

She looked around in wild panic, a blush covering her cheeks and creeping along her neck. “For sex. I want ... someone better than the stupid boys at school!” she finished in a hissing whisper.

Lars? I suppose I could understand her attraction. Lars Scarney was a huge guy, close to six-two. I’ve no idea how heavy, except that he wasn’t thin, and it wasn’t fat. He also wasn’t usually overly loud. He had once told me he’d realized a long time ago his sheer size could make people nervous, he had to be low-key if he didn’t want them scared. My best friend from work, Emily had seen him plenty of times since he moved to town five years ago. There was only one time I’d seen him drop the act, Some guy had a gal cornered outside a bar, and she plainly didn’t care for his attention. The drunk was so focused on the lady he didn’t even notice Lars until the big guy had hold of the drunk’s hand, squeezing his knuckles so hard I’m sure they felt about ready to pop. Even better he wasn’t currently in any relationship, his long-time girlfriend had move out-of-state just last month to care for her ailing parents.

It was the very first time I was ever glad she was on birth control. We’d talked it over when she turned sixteen, and agreed that even though she didn’t have any plans to be active, that was no reason to take stupid chances.

“Have you talked to him about it?” I asked, wondering if I really had any choice in this at all.

“Dad! No!” she protested. “There’s no way ... not if you’re not okay...”

“You’re seventeen, Emily. There’s nothing I can really say if you’re determined.” This was surreal. We might have been able to talk about anything, but I sure never expected to have a conversation where she hoped for my blessing to give her virginity to my best friend. But I could also easily understand her reticence about boys her own age. Teenaged boys could be damned nuisances.

I took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds, before letting out a deep sigh. “Alright, if this is what you want. But you’ve got to be the one to ask him. If you wanna be treated like an adult, you’ve got to act like one.”

“Thanks, Dad!” She bounced forward, wrapping her arms around me in a tight hug.

That Friday I drove her the familiar couple miles to Lars’ place.

She flashed me a smile while grabbing an overnight bag, before getting out she said, “Thanks, Dad.”

I was too choked to reply, just nodded, doing my best to return her smile.

There were tears in my eyes as I watched her walk up the path to his door. My little girl was growing up. Why couldn’t time just hold still? Gods, she was beautiful.

She rang the bell and the door opened right away. She turned part-way to the street and waved, flashing me another wide smile before turning back and stepping inside. The door closed and I broke down, unable to help it. I have no idea how long it took but I eventually got myself pulled together and left. No sense looking like some creepy stalker.

Lars opened the door and stepped back without saying a single word, this had to be entirely Emily’s choice. He watched her turn and wave to her father James waiting at the street, then take the single step that would change everything.

He had watched this girl grow from a gangly twelve-year-old to her lovely now-seventeen. Of course he had fantasized about her, especially over the last year. But idle fantasy was all it had been. A week ago he could have never imagined actually being in the position he now found himself. Her father even approved! She was his all weekend, and he meant to rock her world.

She closed the door, gasping as he stepped up close and pressed her back against it. She looked up, lips just parting as if to ask something, but he beat her to it, bending down, their lips met for a gentle kiss.

Emily was breathing hard when Lars backed off, and blushed as she raised a hand to brush fingers over her much-kissed lips.

It might have seemed mocking, but Lars could not help the quarter bow and swept hand towards the back while saying, “This way?”

Emily just smiled and started walking.

He stopped just before they would leave the living-room, “Ems? I really don’t expect it to be any kind of problem tonight, but if you ever do need to slow down and talk about something, just say ‘rutabaga’. If you say ‘peppercorn’ everything stops.” He enjoyed being dominant, but what he had planned for tonight was downright tame. If she had a problem with any of it she really shouldn’t be having sex. With anyone, maybe not even herself.

She closed her eyes, nodding, then looked up at him. She held up her bag, “Ca ... can I change first? II brought something ... I want to wear.”

He studied her face for a second before agreeing, “Sure, although what you’re wearing is very nice.” And it really was. Wholesome, a blue knee-length skirt and plain cream blouse. He had no idea what she meant to change into.

Emily’s smile as the bedroom door closed was downright embarrassed, as if she could hardly believe what she was about to put on.

It took less than five minutes for the door to open again, but she only pulled it an inch or so. He still heard her call, “Okay, I’m ready!”