The Past in Colorado

What I finally admitted was not that I was falling in love with my dad, but that I was already there. I was in love with him and had been for some time, only now willing to accept it for what it was. I also knew I wanted to stay along the course I was heading. It was definitely thin ice I tread, going into uncharted, perhaps even dangerous, territory. In the end, I feared my actions might destroy our relationship. But the feelings I had for him were strong and persistent, gathering strength with each passing day. The more time I spent with him, the more I wanted to be with him, and the more courage I mustered to continue onward.

***

After I graduated from high school, I spent the first few weeks of summer sitting around at home with little to do. Every day, I'd head into town to meet Dad at his office on campus for lunch where he was an associate professor of English at the university. Sometimes we'd walk downtown to an outdoor cafe and other times I'd bring us something to eat. And he was always happy to see me. I'd put my arm through his and we'd casually stroll down the sidewalk talking. Then one day, while sitting on a bench outside his building, he asked if I decided on a college to attend. I shoved the remains of a bagel into my mouth and nodded.

"What'd ya decide?" he asked.

As I chewed, I pointed my finger downward.

"Here?" he asked.

With my cheeks bulging, I nodded and tried to smile.

"Thought about a major?" he asked.

I swallowed, nodding once more, and took a sip of my soda. Then I smacked my lips, replying happily, "English."

Dad grinned and put his arm around me.

"Now why would you pick that?"

I took another drink and shrugged.

"Lemme guess," he said. He brought a hand to his chin and affected a look of careful consideration. "Would I have anything to do with it?" he asked.

I nearly choked when he said that. I hadn't actually thought of that as my reasoning, but in a way, he was right. I had to admit it. Choosing English as my major would bring me into closer contact with him. But I also picked it, as it was something in which I had a genuine interest. After all, our house was filled to capacity with books, and when you're the only child in a single-parent household, sometimes your best friend is a good book. But I didn't want my dad to know any of this.

"You want me to pick something else?" I muttered.

He hugged his arm around me and chuckled. "No, no," he replied. "It's a good major. I think you'll enjoy it. Plus I'll get to see you more, huh?"

I leaned against him and smiled.

"Been thinking where you wanna go on vacation?" he asked.

Every summer, come hell or high water, we always went on vacation, and he always let me choose the destination - within reason, of course.

"Let's go back to Colorado," I replied. "That was fun. We could go whitewater rafting again, camp out in the Rockies. That was a lotta fun."

He crossed one leg over the other and nodded. "Yep, ok," he said. "Sounds good."

We talked for a while longer, and then strolled back to his office. I was in such a blissful mood, as I held his hand on that sunny day, swinging our entwined fingers.

***

Over the next month, I filled out all the requisite paperwork to become a student at the university. I also worked out an itinerary for a weeklong vacation to Colorado. This would also be the time that I, for lack of a better way of putting it, would make a move on him. Not necessarily in a sexual way, although the more I thought about it, the more I wanted to. What I wanted was to advance the relationship we shared. And, being so far from home, we would be forced to deal with it; unable to simply walk away and pretend like it didn't happen. This vacation would be the turning point, one way or another. I was scared, unsure of what would happen, but felt an instinctual determination to take the next step.

In the meantime, I continued to take little steps in that direction. I'd meet him for lunch and hold his hand whenever I could. If he put his arm around me, whether we were sitting or standing, I'd move a little closer. And I spent less time in my bedroom and more in his. I made every effort to be with him, to let him I know I was there for him.

***

One night as he sat in bed reading, I was sitting on the edge of his bed brushing my hair. I was looking in the direction of his dresser and had an idea. Without looking, I asked if I could keep a few things in one of his drawers. There was a momentary pause before he answered.

"Well," he said. "I guess that'd be ok. How come?"

I continued to slowly brush my hair and shrugged. "I dunno," I replied meekly. "Guess I'm just in here enough, it'd be nice to have some socks and stuff more handy."

Socks. That's not what I had in mind to put in there.

"Ok," he said. I slowly turned to look at him. He smiled, adding, "Just pick a drawer, I guess. You can move around whatever you need."

I grinned. "Thanks," I replied.

The next day, while he was at work, I opened his top dresser drawer. It was filled with socks, t-shirts, and boxer shorts. I put my hands inside and carefully pushed everything a few inches to the left, trying to create enough empty space on the right for my stuff. I wasn't sure what I could remove from his drawer in order to create more room, so I settled for the eight or nine inches I was able to scrounge. Then I went to my bedroom, opened my top drawer, and picked out a few items.

Socks, a couple t-shirts... then I thought about my panties and bras. Then I thought about my lingerie. The lingerie might be going too far, so I settled for socks and t-shirts, a few panties and bras. Surely he'd see these. I picked out the items and carried them to Dad's room, and, one by one, arranged them in their new home. Socks in back, t-shirts on the bottom, panties and bras on top - where he couldn't miss them.

Satisfied that everything was in place, I closed the drawer and went to meet him for lunch.

That night, as he laid in bed reading, I crawled under the covers next to him, and he asked if I had enough room for my stuff. I rolled over, my face planted against the pillow, and smiled up at him. "Yep," I replied. He turned his eyes to mine and smiled. "Unless you wanna gimme an entire drawer," I happily suggested, wiggling my eyebrows up and down. Dad went back to reading his book and chuckled. But then he took me by surprise.

"Yeah, sure," he replied. "Just make sure you put my things where I can find them again."

Elated, I reached out under the blanket and gripped his leg. My hand landed on his hip, my fingers not a few inches from his groin. Startled, he looked down at me and smiled fitfully. I grinned and thanked him once more.

Then next day, I awoke about an hour after he left for work. I swung my legs onto the floor and hopped over to the dresser and pulled open the drawer. A smile crept across my face: he'd been in there that morning. Some of his socks and boxers had been moved around. There was no doubt about it - he'd seen my panties and bra.

I ran to my bedroom and pulled out some more panties and bras and socks, and then hauled them to his room. For the next half hour, I tried rearranging things in his top drawer so that everything would fit. In the end, the left half was his and the right mine.

That night, as he sat in bed reading, I walked to his bedroom door and softly knocked. I peeked inside and Dad smiled, waving me inside. As I closed the door behind me, he said, "Ya know, you don't have to knock. Just come on in." I stood at the side of the bed and giggled nervously.

"Ok," I whispered.

He went back to his book, as I held my hairbrush in my hand.

"Dad?"

He turned to me.

I held up the brush and timidly asked if I could keep it in his bedroom. He nodded and returned to his book. I went to the dresser and slowly opened the drawer with my clothes in it. There was a mirror on the dresser, and I could see him sitting on the bed behind me. I gazed down into the drawer, running a trembling hand over my bras and panties. Well, I thought, this is it. If I'm going to move into his room, I might as well take full advantage of it. My lips formed into a tight circle, as I breathed in and out, and then I grasped the bottom of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. I was too scared to lift my eyes and look into the mirror to see if he was watching. I carefully folded my shirt and set it on the dresser, and then reached back to unclasp my bra. I let it fall down my arms and quickly folded it, placing it in the drawer with the others. Curiosity got the better of me and I carefully raised an eyebrow, looking into the mirror. He was still reading. Feeling relieved, but also a bit disappointed, I suddenly put my hands over my breasts and turned slightly in his direction.

"Dad?" I said nervously.

He didn't look up, only nodding his head. "Hmm?" he mumbled.

Subconsciously, I was thinking, "Look at me, damnit!" But then I thought, wait - what am I going to say? Once again, I hadn't planned that far ahead. As I frantically searched for something to ask, he looked in my direction. When our eyes met, he seemed alarmed. I could feel my face burning red and glanced nervously down at my hands covering my breasts.

"I, uh..."

Think, damnit!

He was staring at, stunned or mesmerized – I had no idea. Only my hands covered my otherwise nude torso. I wasn't quite facing him, but he could definitely see that I was naked from the waist up.

"Do you, uh... do you think maybe I could.... Could I get something to drink? You want something to drink? I was just thinking, I'm thirsty and was gonna go get a drink. You want one?"

I winced. That sounded stupid. Especially given that I was standing there in front of him with my hands covering my breasts. It was a very surreal scene.

"Uh, yeah," he mumbled. "That'd be, uh... fine."

I smiled and quickly turned back to the dresser, releasing my breasts and resting my hands on the drawer. I closed my eyes and sighed, trying to control my breathing. "Jesus, what're you doing?" I thought. When I opened my eyes, I was looking directly at the mirror and saw my dad's head turn back to his book. My heart skipped a beat. He could see my breasts in the mirror. I snatched a t-shirt from the drawer and pulled it over my head.

"I'll be right back," I said.

Dad glanced at me, but didn't smile right away. Instead he gave me an odd expression, one I hadn't seen before and it frightened me. He didn't appear angry or upset, just surprised, uneasy.

"Ok," he replied.

***

Over the course of the next few weeks, before we left for our vacation, I gathered more courage to do little things like this around him. I wanted him to become comfortable around me, even seeing me at least partially nude. Some might say I was trying to seduce him, and on a subconscious level, perhaps that accounted for some of my motivation. But I convinced myself that I was attempting to make it easier for us to live together. Although I accepted that contrivance, I also knew there were ulterior motives that were less than exemplary.

I did these things in an attempt to deepen the bond between us, not really caring how it happened. At times, my conscious would pipe in and question my motives, but I tried to pass it off as innocent, knowing this wasn't entirely true. I knew what I was doing and why, even if I was reluctant to accept it.

When I visited him over the noon hour, I went from merely holding his hand, to putting my arm around his waist. If we were sitting on the couch watching a movie, I'd lean against him or hold his hand whenever I could. Sometimes I'd leave my bedroom door open a little, as I changed clothes, and eventually left it wide open, even if he wasn't around. I talked to him about what he was doing for his classes and which I should take come fall. I engaged him in conversation, trying to make an honest effort to get to know him as another adult, a friend, and not simply as my father. And the wonderful thing is I didn't have to force myself to do any of this. I was genuinely interested in getting to know him better, and the more I learned, the happier I became with my decision to continue along this path. And for his part, he actively engaged me in conversation, as well. He seemed as interested in me, as I was in him, and this served to embolden my determination to press forward.

***

One afternoon, I was online from home and saw him log into the university's BBS from his office. Just as I sent him a message, one from him popped up on my screen.

Me: Hey daddy!!! Him: How's your day? Me: Hi *smooch* I'm fine. How's your day going? Him: So-so. Just updating my health insurance here. I keep putting it off. Me: Sounds fun. Is something wrong with your health? Him: No, but you're 18 now and if I want to keep you on my policy, I have to update this thing. Me: Do you want to keep me on your policy? Him: Yes Me: You don't have to if you don't want to. Him: No, that's fine. Me: Just "fine"?! *glares at him* Him: Ok Ok! It fills my heart with joy to have you on my health insurance policy! Happy now? Me: A little happier... I guess! Him: How much do you weigh? Me: God, dad! That's kind of personal! Want my bra size, too? :P Him: Weight will do. I have to fill it in here. Me: I see. 114lbs. Him: How tall are you? 5'6"? Me: 5'5" Him: Smoke or drink? Me: Gross! No! You know that. Him: Just checking. God only knows what you do when I'm not home to keep an eye on you. Me: Oh right! I think it's the other way around! Me: 34b Him: "You sank my battleship!" What's that? Him: Never mind. Me: What? You asked! Him: No I didn't. Me: Oh. Well, now you know. But you probably could have guessed it, anyway. Him: How on earth do you figure that?? Me: You've seen them! Duh! Him: *rolls eyes* Jess, that was an accident. Me: Hey, speaking of my boobs, want to know what I got today for our vacation? Him: What's that? Me: I bought a new bikini! :D Him: What you mean, dear, is - you bought it, but I paid for it, right? Me: No! I didn't use ANY of your money. :P Smartalec! Him: That must be a first. How much was it? Me: Too much, but I think it looks nice. Want to see it when you get home? We should get you something. Him: I don't think I need a bikini, but thanks. Me: You want to see it? Him: Ok Me: That's not very enthusiastic! I tried to find something nice for you, mister! Him: *rolls eyes* Me: What?! I'll just take it back then. Fine. Sorry to be a bother. Him: Oh Jess, come on. I was just kidding. Of course I want to see it. Me: You sure you want me to model it for you? Him: Yes, sweetie, I'm sure. Me: *swoons!* Yea!!! :D Him: You're silly. :) Me: Yeah, but you love me all the same! Him: True Me: I love you, too. Him: I love you more. Me: No way! :P I love you a BUNCH more! Him: Nuh uh! I love you more than a bunch more! Me: I love you ten times ten more than a bunch more! Him: *scratches head* Is that possible? Me: Of course it is!!! *jumps in his arms and smooches him* Him: Ah! Ok, if you say so, lady! *is smothered in smooches* Me: I'm IN love with you, so there!!!

Oh crap! Did I just say I was in love with him? There was a brief moment of silence. My words just came out of their own volition. I thought fast and tried to bring the conversation back to a normal level, before he could think too much about what I just said.

Me: What time are you coming home? Him: Same as always I guess. About 5:30. Me: Still want to see my new bikini? Him: Yes Me: Okey dokey, Pokey! I'll have some dinner ready when you get here! See you then! *smooch*

I waited a moment for a reply, and then, just as I was about to log out, a message popped up on the screen from him. I caught but the briefest glimpse of it, before it disappeared.

Him: I love you, too, sweetheart. *hugs* ... *kiss*

I sat staring at the monitor for a long time. He kissed me. Well, sort of. Any other time, he'd say "*hugs & kisses*", but this time it was a simple "*kiss*" all by itself. Maybe I was reading more into it than I should, but it made my heart soar, nonetheless.

When he arrived home that evening, I was in the kitchen fixing dinner. I walked out to the living room to greet him, giving him a hug. As he set his briefcase down, I stepped back smiling, my hands in the back pockets of my shorts.

"Wanna see it?" I asked, grinning nervously.

"What's that?" he replied.

With trembling knees, I swiped a sweaty hand across my mouth, saying my new bikini. He pursed his lips and nodded.

"Well, uh... sure. Ok," he said.

I had him sit on the couch, as I stood in the middle of the living room. He held up his hands, saying, "Um... Ok, where is it? You gonna go get it?"

I chuckled nervously, replying, "I, uh... I got it on. I told you I'd model it for you."

The smile on his face slowly waned. "Oh," he said. "Alright then."

I breathed in and held my breath, as I put my hands at the bottom of my t-shirt and, in one swift motion, pulled it over my head. His eyes drifted down my chest to the two small red triangles of thin fabric covering my breasts. Dropping my shirt to the floor and trying to mask my anxiety, I said, "I thought red would, uh... I dunno... match my hair better." He slowly nodded. Then I brought my hands to my shorts and carefully unzipped them, keeping my eyes down, too embarrassed to look him in the face.

I couldn't believe I was actually doing this, but at the same was pleased that I'd been able to muster the courage. I knew I was really pushing the envelope, and I could scarcely believe I was doing something so tawdry, so out of character, but my blind, naive courage drove me forward.

Wiggling out of my shorts, I let them fall to the floor, and then stood straight and stepped out of them. I placed my hands on my hips and tried to affect a decent pose, silently hoping he wouldn't notice my wobbling knees.

"So... what do ya think?" I asked skittishly.

Dad took a deep breath and softly clapped his hands to his knees, slowly bobbing his chin and staring at my body. It was obvious he was uncomfortable with my callow performance, and I began having regrets, as a sense of shame fell over me. Now I simply wanted it to end.

"That's, uh... That's really nice. Looks good," he replied.

"Seems like a good fit," I added tensely, clearing my throat.

I stood motionless, letting my image burn into his mind, but after a few seconds, bent down and stepped into my shorts. As I put on my t-shirt, I asked for his final opinion, not that I cared any longer. I just wanted to bring an end to this childish display. He rubbed his hands on his knees, replying, "Yeah, ya know... It, uh, looks good. I'm sure you'll turn a few heads." Then he gave me a silly wink and looked over toward the kitchen. "Somethin' burning?" he asked.

I sniffed the air. "Oh crap!" I exclaimed.

Fortunately, none of the food was too damaged.

***

As we ate in the dining room, we talked about work and school and our last visit to Colorado a few years back. My dad suggested we get an air mattress to bring along, seeing as how last time we simply rolled our sleeping bags onto the hard floor of our tent. As he took a drink, he said, "I must be gettin' old. My back can't take lying on the ground like that any more."

"Yeah," I replied sarcastically. "You're really old for only being forty-one."

He grinned, saying, "Well, you make me feel younger." I stopped chewing and stared at him. Then I slowly swallowed and smiled back. My heart skipped a beat. As he ate and talked about what we could do in Colorado, my mind was stuck repeating those words he just said to me. I sat there watching him, listening to him, but not hearing anything else. That was the moment I first consciously admitted to myself that I was falling deeply in love with my dad.