Chapter 20

A few weeks after school started, Mamma announced that she would be traveling for work. A new client in another city had called. Because they were French, Mamma would be taking Doris with her to translate. I would be alone with Dad – for a whole week. I felt torn. I did not want Doris to leave and yet the prospects of being alone with Dad made me shiver with warmth.

Our first night together, Dad sat with me before bed. He rubbed my back gently, which felt wonderful. I knew it was wrong to look at him like any other boy so I looked away. And yet still, as we sat talking about my day at school, I longed to feel his hand directly on my skin.

“What’s wrong?” He asked me. “You’re twitching.”

I thought quickly. “My shirt. It scratches.”

“Oh.” He pulled his hand away.

“Please.” I said then wished I hadn’t said anything.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asked.

“No. But not the shirt.”

He slipped his hand under my t-shirt and rubbed my back gently. I stretched out on the bed, facing him – hoping, in secret that he would move his hand around to rub my breasts. He asked if I was making friends and I said yes. Then he asked if I had made a boyfriend yet and I felt myself blush.

“You have, haven’t you?”

“Yes.” And then I thought he must think me awful. “We haven’t – I mean that we don’t...” I stop. I was afraid to tell him about what Mike and I had done because I would also have to tell him what Doris and I have done. “Dad, I don’t want you to think I am a bad girl.”

“Rosa!” He stopped rubbing me and put both arms around me, cradling me as if I was very young. “I would never think you are bad! I wish you were my own little girl; I love your Mamma and you very much. I don’t want you to ever be afraid to tell me something.” It was very warm in Dad’s arms and he rested his hands just below my breasts. I felt my heart racing – if only he would move just a few centimeters up. “You are a beautiful girl and now you’re at that age when you might have questions about boys. I want you to know that it’s ok to ask me.”

“So if I wanted to kiss a boy, that would be ok?”

“Yes, sweetheart. Does this new boy want to kiss you?”

“Si. Yes. But I have kissed before; Ricky – my boyfriend back home.” I paused and looked up at him. “At my old home. He kissed me. But not like Mike does. Mike’s kisses make me feel...” I shivered at the thought. “ ... warm inside. Like Doris does.”

“Like Doris?”

I pulled away from him. “Oh Dad! Please do not be mad!”

He frowned. “If Doris has done something to you then I should know.”

“She hasn’t done anything.”

“Rosa,” he said sternly, “I can see that you are lying. Now, I won’t say that she won’t get into trouble, but you must tell me everything in order for me to determine if she’s done something wrong.”

“She only taught me. That all. Please Dad, don’t be angry. It was my fault that I didn’t learn well.”

“Rosa, Rosa!” He pulled me back to him, into his lap and put his arms around me again. His kissed my forehead. “Now, I will think you are a bad girl if you don’t tell me right now everything from the very beginning.”

I sniffed loudly. “Alright. I’m sorry. Doris was teaching me vocabulary. She taught me the parts of the body.”

“Really? Show me how she taught you.”

I knelt on the bed beside Dad and took off my shirt. “Chest. Breast. Aureole. Nipple.” I giggled. “Erect. My nipple is erect.” I looked away from him, hoping that he would not know why.

“You seemed to learn well enough to me.”

“I did, at first. But then she taught me stomach, hips, thighs, calves, feet.” I sat on the edge of the bed and spread my legs. “But when she taught the next lesson, I had to repeat it over and over. I was very bad at it.”

Dad rubbed my arm. “I will talk to Doris about being too hard on you. I think you’ve learned to speak very well in only a few months. But here, it’s getting late; lie down.” I stretched and Dad pulled the sheet down. “It’s a bit warm in here, isn’t it? You may sleep better without this.”

“Did Doris touch you here?” He asked running his fingers lightly over my breasts.

“Oh no, Dad.” I bit my lip. “But Mike has.”

“Oh so you and this Mike are having sex, eh?”

“NO!” I curl away from him and cover my face with shame.

Dad laughed softly and lay me down again. “Rosa, so innocent! I know you are not having sex with this boy. But he wants you to, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, Dad. And I don’t know how to stop him. Each time we go out, we get closer.”

“Well, maybe I can help.”

“Really? How?”

“Maybe I can show you a way that you can please him but not have sex. Would you like that?”

“Oh yes,” I sighed with relief, “yes, please, Dad.”

“Now, first you must tell me about this lesson that was so hard for you with Doris and then, you must show me where this boy has already touched you. Then we can see if it is too late to stop him from having sex with you.”

“Si. Yes, Dad. Thank you.” I started to get up but he stopped me.

“Where are you going?”

“To show you my lesson, I must be on the floor. You sit here and open your legs please.” I showed him how Doris presented herself to me. “Vulva.” I said. Then I leaned my face into his manhood. I could smell the sweat and musk even through his pants and felt my womanhood throb with want. “Of course, I can not show you the true lesson – you do not have a vagina or a clitoris – but my instruction was to identify the part and say the name clearly but I could only touch the part with my tongue and I have not learned to do it properly.”

“If I took off my pants,” he looked thoughtful, “could you show me what you mean?”

I looked away, blushing, “I do not know the words for the men.”

“I could teach you that.”

“Yes, Dad, I could show you.” But as I reached to open his belt, he stopped me.

He sat still for a moment then stroked my hair. “On second thought, for right now, just pretend that I’m Doris and show me what you did.”

I leaned in close to him again, and as I did, my heart raced. I stuck out my tongue and licked a line where lips should be. “Vulva.” I said around my outstretched tongue. I did it again. “Labia Majora. Labia Minora. Vaginal opening. Clitoris.” Beneath the fabric of his pants, I could feel the landscape of his manhood pulsing. I wondered yet again, how men and women differed so. Women aroused became softer, men became harder. It seemed a study in contrasts.

Dad stopped me. “I can see that is a lesson that Doris should have considered more. I will discuss that with her tomorrow. You lie down now and tell me about this boy. You said he had touched your breasts. How exactly?”

“Badly.” I said lying down again. “He squeezed them too hard.”

“You like gentle touches like this?” He stroked my breasts and nipples and I squirmed uncontrollably.

“Oh yes, Dad.” I sighed. “He has touched me here and here.” I indicated my legs and my hips and Dad moved his hand down to stroke me there.

“Has he touched your butt?” He asked.

“No. But he wanted to. I was afraid that that was sex.”

“Oh, sweetheart, no. He can touch you there. If it’s only his hand, he can even touch you here.” his hand rested on my vulva. “Even if he does it like this.” He slipped his fingers under the edge of my panties. “You can’t have sex with a hand, ok, sweetheart?” Dad’s fingers touched the outside edge of my lower lips, stroking them gently. I was breathing in loud gasps – his touch was electrifying. I thought I would explode even without his finger delving into my deeper recesses. “Shh, sweetheart, relax. Does this hurt?”