Abigail's Awakening Pt. 12

That Sunday Abigail went shopping at Target. She had had a change of heart. It was concerning her dad. She thought she saw him in the light of his real truth, not as a creepy creeping creep, but as a fellow masturbator, someone lost and lonely and deprived of the kind of love that a body needs. She knew Mom was as frigid now as Abigail had ever been, could never fulfill the needs of any man, no matter how much they loved each other. She thought of her father taking sexual solace in a fantasy of her and actually found it erotic, in a forbidden sort of way.

Thus, feeling a strange warmth toward her father, where before she had been revulsed, she went to Target to shop for a bikini. A bikini for daddy to see her in. She knew he would love it.

She didn't imagine herself flaunting it for him, twisting and contorting her body in sexual postures that emphasized here her booty, there her boobs, here her dimpled bellybutton, there the lines around her barely concealed vagina. She knew that just to wear it would be enough. She wouldn't lead on that she had bought it for him, that would be obscene. She would wear it as any adult woman had the right to do. Wearing it at the house would be her secret gift to him.

She hoped he found enough pleasure in masturbating to get himself by, hoped for Mom's sake that he wouldn't resort to cheating, or prostitution.

She didn't know yet what tomorrow would bring, but today, on Sunday, when she skipped Mass for the first time in her memory, she felt like she had awakened. Jesus didn't love her because she was or wasn't a virgin. And Jesus didn't judge her for pleasuring herself at home or anywhere else. These were lies the clerics raised people on, making their minds and wills weak.

She thought about Jack, as she drove across town. Booya was what he inexplicably wanted to be called. Or maybe that was a joke. He said his friends called him Booya, but she'd never seen him hanging with any friends. Anyway, part of her hoped to see him soon, as soon as tomorrow, and sooner if that could've been possible. Part of her wanted to forget about him and the confused relationship terrain they had wandered. She wanted to grow on her own, learn the ways of her own pleasure and enjoyment completely before she shared the sexual experience with anyone else.

What if she secretly wanted to fuck her dad, and that was why part of her could go without wanting to see Jack again? No, that couldn't be. But why was she going to get a bikini for daddy? Some things are too subtle and could only be intuited.

If she fucked her dad, the logic went, she would degrade him to the point where he was no longer her real father anymore. He would just be a depraved man with a great crime on his hands. She uplifted his behavior by letting him keep it to himself, his secret lust, his secret shame.

She did love him, therefore she would not screw him, not under any circumstance. The bikini, again, was just a gift, and one that was wholly hers to give.

At Target she found a teal string bikini that looked electric on her. The string of it stuck fully up the crack of her ass, exposing both cheeks. She would have to shave to wear the bottom, low cut as it was in the front. She would look good, she knew, shaved down to a single little line above her pussy. It was amazing to her the top would even stay on, the way her boobs popped out the sides and bulged underneath. This bikini only covered three things: her nipples, her vagina, and her butthole. Those three she would happily leave to her father's imagination. She wasn't making porn after all. Though she did feel naked, standing there in the mirror of the dressing room with half her bush bustling riotously out of the top of her bikini bottom. She was naked, but she was no longer afraid.

And that is what it amounted to in the end, her Awakening: a cessation of fear. The Fear to do what she really wanted to do and to be who she really wanted to be.

No longer a virgin, she looked at her former beliefs about masturbation as absurd in the extreme. What could be wrong in giving oneself the enjoyment that the body longs for?

She had masturbated this morning, under her bedsheets, and the experience had prompted her to rethink her dad's habits. She had been wrong to judge him so harshly, she now knew. If she'd wanted to, she could've hated him for making her the center of his fantasy. But what was the point of fantasy if it couldn't go wherever it wanted to go, if it were ruled by the laws of fear and not freedom?

Driving home, she thought about Tim too. He and she were still officially boyfriend and girlfriend. She'd have to break up with him, she guessed. He had been a vehicle for her liberation, true, but there was no loving connection there, no passionate truth. She wasn't going to rush the breakup, she told herself, just play along until she found the right moment to, what?, break his heart? No way was he that attached. He was a simple man, she now understood, with all the obvious desires and little of the subtlety to make a character worthy of the name.

Maybe she would fuck him again before the break-up, if she wanted to, but she doubted she would. Jack had a smaller cock by far, and so might any man she could fall in love. She didn't want Tim stretching out her pussy too much. She still wanted to save something for the man she would marry, after all.

Mom and Dad were having a late coffee together, when Abigail got home.

"Where have you been, young lady? We missed you at Mass this morning. I hope there's nothing wrong."

"I just needed a break. One week off, that's all."

"Our Lord and Savior doesn't go a single moment without having the hairs of our head counted. The least we could do is worship Him in the way He asks of us, participating in the holy Communion at least once per week. Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah, mom. I'm listening. But you're not listening to me. Regardless of what your beliefs may be, or how badly you want me to share in those beliefs, my beliefs can only be my own. If I needed to take a week off from Church, that's my prerogative."

"Our little girl is right," her dad chimed in, "and plus, it's only one week. No one ever went to Hell for skipping only one week of Church. There'd be no one to fill God's mansion in heaven if that were the case."

She was proud of her dad for standing up for her, even if he was secretly motivated by guilt. "Thanks, Dad. You're the best!"

"I haven't heard that one in a while. I like being the best."

"You know what else you haven't heard in a while? Grill party by the pool tonight! Who's down?"

"Only if that's what you want, chef."

"Well, I hope it's what you want too, daddy."

He stirred in his chair. She hadn't called him Daddy in forever and a day.

She watched with hidden delight as he squirmed, knowing he liked that. Daddy.

"Mommy and Daddy. I only hope you two love each other half as much as I love each of you."

Her dad looked over at her mom, who looked back over at him, each with a quizzical look in their eyes. "You know we love each other very much, Abby."

"Your mom and I have been together through the thick and thin. We couldn't live without each other."

"When was the last time you had sex?"

Her mom's jaw dropped. She had no response, so her dad cleared the silence, "I've had all the best sex in my life with my your mom. I wouldn't trade her in for anyone."

"What brought this on, Abigail?" her mother asked. "It's not like you to talk so boldly about such things. You haven't gotten involved with anyone that way yet, have you?"

"If I ever did, you would be the first to know. But about what brought this on, I don't know. You two just don't seem like the type to wake up in the morning and make love. Not anymore. I'm afraid of what might become of your relationship if the spark ever died."

"This is totally inappropriate. That's all I'm saying."

"Listen to her, honey. Maybe she's right. Maybe we have forgotten what it means to be one flesh."

"I am simply not having this conversation with my daughter, even if she is an adult now. If you really needed the hanky-panky so bad, you'd use your words and tell me yourself."

"But Mom, what makes you think you don't need it even more than he does?"

"You know, I can't believe I'm saying this to you, Abigail, but I've never liked sex. Maybe you'll get married and find that you like it. But it's always felt wrong to me, like I was breaking the law or something. I just don't enjoy sex the way some people do."

No wonder Dad is going crazy with fantasies of me, Abigail thought. His dick has been locked up so tight in a dusty attic all these years. And maybe he sees the young woman he married in me? Pictures of Mom from her high school years do bear a striking resemblance to me now. Maybe he sees me and sees the woman who took his virginity, a long time ago. Maybe.

That evening, she stood by the grill in her string bikini, newly shaved, flipping burgers. She could feel her dad looking at her in all the ways a father never should, and it made her happy to know that he'd accepted her gift. She ran over to him and jumped into his arms, forcing him to catch her. He held her up by the booty, her legs wrapping around his torso. "Throw me, daddy. Please, throw me." He carried her to the edge and vaulted her into the pool, making a big splash. She didn't go any farther, knowing her mother's suspicion might be aroused by her behavior. Lord knows she was already in a silent tizzy over the bikini.

Night fell upon them. The family went inside, tired from all the rays they'd soaked in.

"I've got to go down to my office and burn the midnight oil," her dad told her mom. "You don't have to wait up for me."

Abigail was secretly pleased, knowing what he had to go do. She might've been more pleased to see her mom beg him to come to bed with her, but some prayers simply are never answered.

Abigail only hoped she could get away with cranking one out too. Lord knows she wanted to.

THE END

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Surpassing 20k words in its entirety, "Abigail's Awakening" is the longest single narrative I've ever written. The second was a 19k word novella that does not match the category of erotica, so you will not see it here. I fear that the structure of "Abigail's Awakening" sags in places beneath the weight of its own length. That is my own failing, and I will have to live with it. In the end, writing this story took me to enough places that I'm happy I embarked in the first place. I hope you, dear Reader, have enjoyed the experience.

My dearest thanks goes to those of you who read all 12 installments, experiencing the whole story. Part of me regrets not just publishing it all together in one piece from the very beginning. If I get feedback from you guys saying I should, I just may publish it in its entirety yet.

I guess the decision reflects my personal predilection for reading in small doses.

If you read the whole story and would be so bold as to comment, I would really love to hear from you.

My dream is that some of you will come back to my stories for years to come. Dear Unknown Friend, it is a special connection we share if you do.

Once again, let me know if you think I should re-publish this work all together, in its entirety.

Many blessings to you as you go about your day~

Read on!

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