I read somewhere awhile back that when you start writing, you should never be too dogmatic with your characters, as they may take you places you hadn't expected them to. Such has been my recent experience.
In the process of completing chapters in other stories, I'm occasionally inspired, if perhaps briefly, in another direction. Such is the case here.
This then, is perhaps the beginning of a multi-part series...
If this were a legal proceeding, say, discovery of facts, for instance, you could call this first part "facts-in-evidence."
To wit, all men are dogs. Despite the vehement protests from some male members of the audience to the contrary, this is not up for discussion.
Some men are noble, well-born, and aristocratic; princesses, kings, and CEOs, for example; at least they'd like you to think they're noble and well-born.
Others are oft times the most loyal, friendly and trustworthy companions to be found.
The rest are mutts.
Bottom line: all men are dogs.
This isn't my theory; a friend of mine voiced it, and having given it great introspective thought, I've had to admit that he's right.
No matter how noble, well-born, loyal or trustworthy a man is, flash him a piece of ass and the flow of blood to his brain will diminish. This, of course, affects some substantially more than others, but that's beside the point.
So, for our purposes here, this is my confession that I am a dog. Read on. You'll understand.
A common practice among a number of "forward thinking" fathers is "date-night" with their daughters. It's an opportunity for dads to take their little girls out to dinner and maybe a movie; some quality "just them" time; and a chance for dads to show their daughters how they should expect to be treated by a nice young man when they start to date for real.
I instituted this practice with both of my daughters, Jessica and Kelly. Jessica, is now twenty-three and an MBA student out west. Kelly, 20, just completed her sophomore year at a college on the west coast that's about three hours south of her sister.
Where they're at and what's going on with them now is something we'll come back to. For now, though, I want us to revisit the "date-night" issue, because that's where all of this really began. You can decide on how innocent it was.
As is typical for siblings, sisters especially, Jessica and Kelly often fought like a pair of cats cornered in a box. Jessica was particularly vicious, hardly ever passing on a chance to put her sister down.
For example, when Jessica and I first started going on our "dates", she told Kelly it was because I loved her more. That caused a bit of a rift between my youngest daughter and me until a few years later when I started taking her out. It took a lot of convincing on my part, but I finally worked Kelly into believing I loved both her and her sister the same.
The high school my daughters went to only allowed seniors to attend the prom, though you could go as an underclassman if invited by a senior.
Jessica went two years in a row, making a point of telling her little sister she'd be lucky to find a date who'd even go with her, much less actually want to take her, which was ludicrous, as both of my daughters are quite well blessed with their mother's stunning beauty.
I still remember Kelly slumping onto the couch moping as we listened to her sister ride away with her senior prom date. Later that evening, we sat across from one another at the magical 31 Flavors ice cream shop licking at double dip cones.
"Daddy?" Kelly was fighting a running drip of double chocolate.
"If I can't find a date to prom, will you go with me?"
I shoved the ice cream into my mouth to keep from laughing and shook my head slowly.
"No, sweetie. Listen to me." I reached out and took her by the hand. "You're still a long way from having to worry about a prom date. I'm certain you'll have your pick of the boys when that time comes around."
Kelly wasn't convinced, but three years later, I was closer to right than she was. She turned eighteen two weeks before homecoming and two boys were actively in pursuit of her; David and Collin. David was a somewhat geeky math whiz who ended up fifth in his class at graduation; Collin lettered in football and track. My wife, Billie, convinced her David was the better choice. Collin, she said, was a big-man-on-campus, no doubt with lots of girls after him, and would be easily distracted. David was no-such risk.
She and David went to homecoming together, and I swear I've never seen such gaudy flowers as those mums can be.
Kelly never really said much about homecoming, which quickly convinced us that either something terrible had happened or she'd had a miserable time.
The following Thursday, I came home to find Billie logging off the computer and grabbing her keys.
She nodded. "And so are you."
"Where to?" I asked, setting down my briefcase.
"Not you with me. You and Kelly."
I raised my eyebrows.
"She says she needs some daddy time, so I think she wants you to take her somewhere for dinner. I'm going over to Wanda's and we're going to that new Chinese place on 21st street."
"Fair enough," I said. "Is she ready to go?"
"I think she's fixing her hair. If you hurry, you've got time to hop in the shower."
I did just that, and thirty minutes later, we were both ready to go.
Kelly loves Italian, and we enjoyed a meal filled with Caesar salad, pasta and breadsticks. After wards, she asked if we could go for a walk instead of going to the movies like we normally do, and after a short drive, we stepped out of the car and began a meandering stroll, hand in hand, down a gently lit pathway along the river.
"How old do boys have to get before they stop being clumsy?"
"I wish I could tell you, sweetie, I really do, but your mom still thinks I'm clumsy sometimes."
Kelly laughed and leaned her head against me.
"Daddy! I'm being serious. Mom just says that. She doesn't really think it."
I took a deep breath.
"Well, baby, a lot of it depends on the young man."
"Key word, there, young?"
"Can be. Is that what's been bothering you this week? Is David clumsy?"
"Clumsy isn't the word, Daddy. He acts all nervous and everything, and his palms get sweaty when he tries to hold hands with me. He gets fumble fingered, trying to hold hands with me. And, ohmigosh, when he..."
She stopped and looked up at me, her eyes fixed hard on me.
"I don't want to make you mad."
"You're not going to make me mad, sweetie."
I nodded and smiled and she bit her lip and pulled her hand from mine to slip it through my arm.
"He kissed me."
I nodded my head from side to side.
"I knew a boy was going to kiss you sooner or later, baby."
She shook her head and looked away for a second before tilting it to look back at me.
"So you're not upset?"
"Should I be?"
"I guess not."
We resumed walking, and Kelly had the demeanor of someone whose balloon had been popped.
"He kisses really clumsy, Daddy."
I laughed again.
"It's not funny, Daddy. His lips are almost like wet noodles, and his mouth, he holds it like this..."
Kelly contorted her face, her mouth open in a comical, yet almost obscene manner, and I laughed again.
"No he doesn't."
"Close," she said, rolling her eyes. "And his tongue..."
I know I wasn't helping at all because I couldn't stop laughing and I could tell she was starting to get mad.
"What about his tongue, sweetie?"
"I thought he was trying to stick it down my throat."
I nodded and shook my head.
"Sweetie, sometimes you can teach your partner how to kiss, and sometimes you can't."
"Teach my partner how to kiss?"
"Some people don't respond well to criticism, so you have to be careful, but sometimes you can say things, like, 'this is the way I want you to hold my hand,' or 'this is the way I want you to hug me,' or..."
"'This is the way I want you to kiss me.'"
I nodded. "And then you hold their hand, hug them or kiss them in the manner you want them to do the same thing to you. Sometimes the young man is going to be nervous because of how pretty you are and the fact that he doesn't want to make mistakes, which is going to happen anyway."
We walked on silently for a few more moments.
"Did mom teach you how to kiss?"
"No, if memory serves, your mother and I had that all figured out before we met. There were other things she taught me, and that I taught her."
"Like what, Daddy?"
"Things you don't need to know yet," I said, brushing my finger against her nose and making her smile.
We walked on for a few more minutes, reached a turn-around point, and were just about to start walking back when Kelly grabbed my arm with both hands.
"Will you teach me how to kiss?"
I looked into her eyes, flecks of light glistening as her eyes darted across my face.
"You want me to teach you how to kiss?"
She nodded her head slowly and licked her lips.
"How am I supposed to know how to kiss if nobody teaches me?"
"Sweetheart, it's not that big of a deal."
"It is to me, Daddy."
"And, anyway, I'm sure you'll meet some boy who..."
"Daddy... I don't want to learn how to kiss from some boy who might not have a clue what he's doing. I'm already there. I want you to teach me."
"I don't know, sweetie. Your mother..."
"Mom would want you to. Isn't that the whole reason you and I go out like this? So that I'll know what to do when I'm out on my own?"
And just that quickly, my little girl had turned my very own rationale for being out with her around on me.
"Mom and I've talked about it a bit, too, Daddy."
"You have?" She and her mother had talked about kissing boys, or about me teaching her how to kiss?
"She says you're a very good kisser."
"Your mother is a pretty good kisser, herself."
I took a deep breath as I felt my heart starting to race. Billie had a way of pressing herself against me as she locked lips with me that almost guaranteed me an erection. Periodically, she did it on purpose, and when she'd achieved the desired effect, we'd retire to privacy and fuck ourselves silly. She swore I made her wet just with the way I'd slowly draw her lips in between mine and lick at them gently.
And my daughter wanted me to teach her how to do that.
Kelly had pulled herself next to me and was peering into my eyes, batting her eyelashes and doing her best to wear me down, and it finally worked.
"Okay," I said. "But you have to do everything just as I tell you. Okay?"
"Okay, Daddy." Kelly beamed.
"Hands. Here." I planted her hands on my waist above my hips. "You don't do anything other than exactly what I tell you to. Understood?"
"Yes, Daddy," she replied, nodding.
I brushed a few errant strands of hair back from her face and looked down into her eyes.
"Your first kiss, your most frequent kiss, should be simple," I said, scanning her face. "Close your mouth and pucker just like this."
Kelly laughed and then bit her lip as she clutched at my waist.
"I'm sorry, Daddy."
"It's okay, sweetie. Close your eyes, too."
Kelly closed her eyes and puckered her lips. I dipped my head to hers and gave a her a quick peck on the lips.
She opened her eyes and looked up at me.
"Daddy. That's not what I mean. You've kissed me like that since I was a little girl."
"I want you to really kiss me."
"You do, huh?"
She nodded. "Like you'd kiss mom."
I took a deep breath.
"Close your eyes again."
"How am I going to see your facial expression?"
"Don't worry about my facial expression, just close your eyes. Now. Open your mouth just a bit; almost like you're about to stick a fork in your mouth to take a bite of food."
Kelly's lips parted ever so slightly, and with my hands cradling her face, I tilted my head down again, and for the first time, I kissed my daughter softly on the lips, holding it, letting it linger, and I felt her breathe in deep against me. I opened my mouth wider and drew her upper lip in between mine, pressing down on it, drawing on it gently as she gasped, and then I did the same to her lower lip.
I pulled back and looked down at her, her mouth open and searching, still seeking lips to join to.
My heart was pounding and my stomach was twisting into knots, and in spite of my better judgment, I tilted my head down again and kissed her once more, this time brushing my tongue against her lips.
Kelly gasped and opened her mouth wide and I fell in consumed as I shared a deep French kiss with my daughter. She began clawing at me, and a moment later, as our lips parted, both of our hearts racing, her arms were around my neck, and my arms were around her waist, both of us holding on to each other desperately.
And I could feel my cock swelling.
"Are you okay, baby?"
Slowly, we loosened our hold on each other, and a moment later, we were peering into each other's eyes.
"David didn't kiss anything like that at all, Daddy."
"Was that kiss better than..."
"Oh, yes, Daddy, much better."
I licked my lips and nodded, breathing slowly, trying to still my pounding heart.
"We should probably be getting back, sweetheart."
I put an arm around her shoulders, she put an arm around my waist, and we headed back to the car.
I opened the door for her to get in and she kissed me sweetly on the cheek.
"Thanks, Daddy. I've had a really good time tonight."
On the ride home, we stumbled our way around making small talk, and I really think we were both glad to finally arrive back at home, where we found Billie's car already back in the driveway.
Kelly sat in the car as I walked around to open the door for her, and she then slowly slid her legs out, standing up and leaning against the car as I closed the door.
"What's the matter, sweetie?"
"Do I get a good night kiss, Daddy?"
"You always get a good night kiss, baby."
She shook her head.
"I want a good night kiss like I'd get on a real date, Daddy. I want you to kiss me like you'd kiss mom after spending the evening out with her."
I stepped in front of her and looked down into her pleading eyes.
"Okay. Just this once, though."
I cradled her face in my hands once more and leaned in to kiss her.
Just this once. Right.
My daughter had either played me or learned quickly, because her lips captured mine, and as she offered me her tongue, she clung to me, and I fell against her, pinning her to the car, and without realizing it, as our mouths meshed together, I was grinding my suddenly throbbing cock against her.
I pulled away a moment later, pushing back, embarrassed, and grateful beyond words that we were both fully dressed.
Both of us wiped hands across our mouths, and we slowly headed inside.
"Getting home a little late, aren't we?" Billie asked as we walked in.
"We went for a walk," I said, "and time got away from us."
Billie nodded and looked up at the clock and back at Kelly.
"Did you have all of your homework finished?"
"I have two more chapters to read for English Lit."
"Well, get busy."
Kelly bent down and kissed her mother on the cheek.
"Goodnight, sweetheart. Are you just going to read and go to bed?"
"I think so," Kelly replied, walking over to me.
"G'night, Daddy. I had a good time tonight." She kissed me, a quick, soft peck on the lips, her mouth open just enough for me to feel it.
"Me, too, sweetie. Sleep well."
We watched her walk from the living room, although I know my wife wasn't watching the same thing I was watching.
She was watching the youngest of our offspring disappear from view.
I was gazing at the snug little behind of the sweet, sexy young thing that had made my cock hard.
Like I said at the beginning, I'm a dog.
More to follow shortly... provided there's interest...