Porn Star's Daughter Ch. 09

I fought to find the right word, but failed. My father simply nodded, accepting the fact that I didn't say the word stupid again. I don't know if he was able to tell just how much was loaded into my comment, however. I wanted him to know that living with my mother could be very taxing, and that if that was the case for the reason why they never got together, I understood.

In a bizarre, misguided way, I just wanted him to know that I got it, that we could bond over that fact. It didn't work and it had been a mistake to try that tactic, and now I knew it.

It didn't mean that I wasn't curious, though. On paper, they should have clicked. It felt like they should have been the perfect couple. He, a hard-working blue-collar man with a strong sense of responsibility, and she was a beautiful, friendly, flirtatious bombshell who knew how to please a man. Just ask her.

In reality, their relationship was far more professional. You'd see more warmth accepting a delivery package than the way these two interacted. It wasn't hostile, exactly, just cordial. They were far more like acquaintances than people who really knew each other, or even wanted to.

As long as I could remember, It had always been that way. Growing up, their relationship never felt odd because that was simply the way it was. They exchanged gifts at Christmas, but never spent Christmas together. Either I was at my father's house, or at my mother's, but the three of us had never spent it as a "family."

"Your mother is an amazing woman," he said evenly, his voice calmer and more steady now. "I care for her very much, and I owe her far more than I can ever repay her. I think, in her own way, she cares for me too. The truth of the matter is that even if I were to ask her, she would never want to be with me."

"Why not?" I asked, genuinely curious.

Then a thought struck me. Maybe there was something more primal about why they couldn't be together than at first glance. I thought about my father's dick. Was he too big? Could she not take a cock that large? I could see how most women would scream at the sight of it, afraid it would tear them apart.

"Let's just say that we're not a good fit," he said with a sad little smile.

Holy fuck, I thought. It is because he's too big!

"But let's make one thing very clear," he said, his voice firm. "Michelle may not be Einstein but she has a heart bigger than any universe."

It took me a second before I got his pun ("Einstein... universe...") and realized that my father - the construction worker - had just made a science joke. Maybe he understood me better than I thought he did.

I don't know why, but his answer comforted me. I was old enough to know that people got divorced for many reasons, and relationships never get off the ground for many more. This didn't come from personal experience, of course, but at least I could put any concerns out of my mind that I may have been the cause.

To be honest, I never really thought about how or why my parents weren't together. They just weren't. I suppose I had truly been living in my own world and not questioning anything. Until recently. Throughout my teen years, I just wanted to be left alone. Now I realize that I may have just gotten what I wished for. Perhaps just a bit too much of what I wished for.

After a moment, I saw that he was gripping the steering wheel a little too hard, and then shifting his hands to flex and release them repeatedly. He was nervous about something.

"Shannon?" he asked, quietly. This got my attention. There was definitely something important on his mind. I had a sinking feeling in my stomach, but couldn't for the life of me understand why.

"Yes, daddy?" I asked, feeling very small. I rarely said the "d-word" but in this case it seemed like the right thing to say.

"You know that I love you very much, right?" he said. It was a shocking turn in the conversation, and seemingly came out of nowhere. He had gone from terribly upset to moody silence to reciting movie quotes to being angry with me to this. I wasn't sure where he was going with it. It also seemed to justify why I suddenly felt frightened.

"I... I guess so," I said, unsure of how to respond.

It wasn't the right thing to say. He closed his eyes just a little too long for a man who was driving, and when he opened them again I could see they were a bit more moist than they had been. "That's what I was afraid of," he said.

"I'm sorry, daddy," I said, trying to backpedal. "I didn't mean - "

He held up a hand. "No, Shannon, it was an honest answer and one that you should always feel free to give."

I shut up. I didn't know what else to say. At least I understood that if I said nothing, I wouldn't be shocking my foot in my mouth again.

"You and I have always had a different relationship," he said. "You've always been very independent, your own person. I've loved that about you and respected that about you."

I swallowed. I wasn't expecting a heart-to-heart. In fact, we'd never had a heart to heart. I certainly wasn't expecting him to practically read my mind.

He glanced at me, trying to choose his next words. "You remind me so much of..." his voice trailed off.

Now I was extra curious. "Who?" I asked.

He smiled, wistfully. "Someone that I used to know. Someone that Tracy and I used to know," he amended, quickly. "I think she probably sees that in you, too. She even said so this morning."

"Who?" I asked again.

"That's a long story, Shannon," he said, his voice flattening and I realized that he wasn't going to tell me. "I promise that I'll tell you some day, but it's going to take longer than we have right now.

"But ever since you were a little girl," he said, getting back to the subject, "you were fiercely independent. You were always your own person, but you were kind and sweet and you made it so easy to love you."

I didn't know where he was going with this, but I felt a tingle in my nose and a wetness begin to fill my eyes. I wasn't sure I really wanted to hear this, but it sounded like he needed to say it. Meanwhile, Team Morality was packing the bags for one of the biggest guilt trips I knew I would ever take.

"I always wanted to give you what you wanted, even if that was space," he said. "Now that you're eighteen, and going to go off to school in a few months, I don't know if I'll get the chance to say this again. But it's very, very important to me that you know how much I love you and I'm proud of you."

He looked at me for as long as it was safe to do so. "You've grown into such a beautiful, intelligent, strong young woman, Shannon," he said, with a firmness that sounded as if he wanted to push the thought into my stubborn brain before I could argue with him.

"Promise me," he said with some finality. "Promise me that no matter what - no matter what - you will know that everything I've done, I've done because I love you so very much."

The tears fell down the sides of my cheeks, and I didn't know what to say. I was afraid that if I opened my mouth at all, the only thing that would come out would be the bawling of a baby girl.

"You're the most amazing thing that's ever happened to me," he said, looking straight at me. It was only then that I realized that he had parked the car in my driveway.

His words were laden with meaning that I couldn't place. He was telling me something, but he wasn't coming right out and saying it. This didn't feel right. I stared at him, hoping to catch a glimpse of what he was getting at, but I was missing it. All I could tell was that he really, really wanted me to listen to him and believe what he had to say.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't give you everything you wanted, Shannon, that I couldn't be there as much as you might have liked. I wanted to be there more, please believe me."

What the hell is he talking about? Why is he telling me this?

A thought struck me. "Oh god, Dad, are you dying?" I croaked out.

He looked shocked, and then started to laugh. "What? No!" he exclaimed. "Not at all!"

"Then why are you... what is... what the hell, Dad?" I could barely breathe. The tears came quickly now.

His smile faded, and he swallowed. "It's just very important to me that you know," he finally said. "There may come a time when you may not think it, but you need to know it in your heart. Promise me that you'll always remember it."

I nodded, but apparently it wasn't enough. "Promise me, please," he said, gently.

"I promise," I said, even though I wasn't entirely sure exactly what I was promising.

This was completely uncharacteristic of him. It was awkward and uncomfortable. This wasn't the kind of relationship that we had, where we actually opened up to each other. This wasn't the friendly, almost-platonic, "Howdy, Doody" joking relationship where we kind of hung out and did nothing of consequence.

This was, like, an actual Father-Daughter kind of thing, and I was completely unprepared for it. The timing was all wrong, the sendoff completely out of place. I had seen this man naked, had watched him fuck several women (at least on video), I had even fucked his dick (sort of). Damn, I had even cheated with his girlfriend. I did that, probably because we hadn't been all that close. He had no idea just how much my relationship with him had changed, which probably made this entire conversation all the more awkward for me.

This was some real bonding moment kind of stuff, though, and I had never felt closer to him in my entire life. He had touched something that I didn't even know existed inside of me, had made me reconsider everything I ever thought about our relationship.

And I was now horny as hell.