My Daughter's All Grown Up
To all the readers of Literotica Forums,
Well, here I am, writing this down when I'd probably be better off just keeping it all to myself. I don't know why I'm doing this, but like I said, here I am and here's the story. I'm keeping my name out of it. I'll just sign this off as Anonymous like some of these other people are doing. As for my daughter's name, June, well, that one's real. Here we go.
At what point does a daughter become more than a daughter? At what point does she become a woman? Over and over again, I've been asking myself those questions. I want to say it was a long, slow process of growth, but that doesn't feel right. It was more like one day she was a girl and the next day she was a woman. It feels like it happened that way, overnight. Suddenly there was another woman living in the house with us. The little girl was gone.
My daughter's name is June. That's the month she was born in. When my wife was pregnant with her she was adamant that would be my daughter's name. I always tease them about that, because what if she'd been born in October or November?
Anyway, this is how it all started up. Thanks to the latest bum in the White House, I was working six-hour days and I was bouncing around all over the week. The only steady part of my schedule was that I usually left the house at eight in the morning and came back at around four. My wife didn't have it any better. She worked further away than I did, at a grocery store. She was gone in the afternoons. Our shifts always overlapped, so that I wouldn't see her going out and she wouldn't see me coming in.
Ever since June was 14 or 15, the house had become a gathering place for her and her friends. There would always be a gaggle of them, boys and girls, and they would be laughing it up and running around all over the place. You know, doing what kids that age usually do.
Things changed a lot, when these boys and girls turned 16 and 17. This is when they started getting serious about dating. The boys were flirting with and petting the girls, and the girls started using make-up and wearing sexier clothing. Something must have taken place down the line, because after a while most of the boys stopped coming over. By the time June turned 18, a little, unruly crowd of up to six or seven girls could be found in the house. They came over in the afternoons, when school was out or on the weekends.
Now, June was the type of girl who wanted to take pictures of everything in the world. We bought her a digital camcorder for Christmas. Since this was her senior year, she started taking that thing with her everywhere. She would take it to school where she'd record her friends and her fooling around, making faces and joking with each other. She used her camcorder at home too, whenever her friends were having a sleepover or a party. She would record when her friends and her were practicing some new dance move. By the time this... incident took place, June had a good collection of memory cards going.
Then this whole twerking craze started up. I mean, I only caught glimpses of this on the news a couple of times. I didn't even know this was what the girls were doing at first, but that was it. They were twerking.
I came home one afternoon to find maybe five girls in my living room. They were giggling and listening to hip-hop music, which personally I can't stand. All these girls were wearing tee shirts and tight shorts, which were a little too tight in my opinion. But that was what all of June's friends were dressing like those days. I saw right away that the mood changed when I walked through the front door.
The way they clammed up made me suspicious. For a second I wondered if they'd gotten into my beer, or if they might have been smoking weed or something. You know, that same reaction any parent might have when presented with a similar situation. I didn't see any evidence that they were doing anything wrong, so I made my way into the kitchen like I always do.
Usually when I get home, my routine goes like this. I'll grab whatever food my wife left for me in the microwave, a beer or two, and head into the living room to catch a ball game. This was my plan for that day, when June came into the kitchen and tried to convince me to do otherwise. Her friends wanted to dance in the living room, she said, and couldn't I go and watch TV in my bedroom?
I didn't understand why this was so different from any other time. I'd seen a lot of those girls dancing before. I'd know them for years already, from the time they were flat-chested and straight as boards, to when they'd started to blossom out into young ladies. I got along well with all of them, or so I thought.
June was persistent and I got testy with her. I refused to change my routine, and so she took her friends into her bedroom. I got to watch my ballgame and I figured that was the end of it.
A Saturday came up a few days later.
I got home at my usual time. June and a bunch of girls were already there. They had that same awful hip-hop music going on. June had her video camera out, but I hadn't made it halfway to the kitchen before she got in my way.
June wanted me to go and watch TV in my room again. She was being loud in front of her friends and she physically tried to push me out of the living room. This is a very annoying habit that she picked up from her mother.
I refused. She said there wasn't enough space in her bedroom for her and her friends to dance. I said, tough. The only concession I was willing to make was that I'd turn the volume on the TV down. I wasn't about give up my living room when all sorts of sporting events were going on that day.
June made faces at me, as I went around her and got my food and my beer. She was still making faces when I came back. These faces worked on her mother, but on me, nope. I sat down on my chair with my sandwich, my bag of chips and a big cup of ice for my two beers. It wasn't so much that I wanted to show off my authority in front of the girls, or to be an asshole to my daughter. I just wanted to relax a little and watch a game.
June was peeved, but her friends were shrugging it off as if June was making a big deal out of it. They had a little debate, while I scanned through the program listings to see what games were on. A couple of the girls didn't care that I was sitting in the living room. They said they'd all danced that way in front of boys before. Some of the other girls wanted to go into June's room or into the backyard, and keep dancing there.
Again, I couldn't figure out what the problem was. I'd been around these same girls for years. I'd seen them in their bikinis and I'd seen them in skimpy clothes. I wondered what the hell kind of dance they were practicing. Were they stripping? I mean seriously, what could it be that was such a secret?
One of these girls, well, I'm going to call her Kim. Kim had always been a little bold with me. She would sometimes sit with me on the couch and watch sports with me, so she was something of a baseball and football fan. She'd taken to eating my chips. If I saw that Kim was in the house, I'd put extra chips in the bowl for her. She'd even take drinks of my beer. While I did scold her about doing this at first, she kept at it. Eventually I relented and just let her do it. Well, this Kim came over and took a drink of my beer. She was watching me close as if daring me to say something to stop her.
