Even though I love my daughter more than I can begin to express, I finally had to admit that she was a slut. There was simply no other way to look at it. It was the truth. Somehow Tammy had gotten out of control and I couldn't get her back. When I tried to talk to her, reason with her, we usually got into an argument.
She started hanging out with the wrong crowd a couple of years ago shortly after her mother and I divorced. The people she'd befriended over the past few years are what I call social misfits that probably have a standing reservation at the local jailhouse. Her taste in clothing changed to provocative and skimpy skirts and blouses that revealed more than I thought was appropriate. She also began staying out until the early hours of the morning and sometimes didn't come home for two or three days.
I could have blamed the divorce on Tammy's behavior but I know now that wasn't the case. The truth is, she and her mother seldom got along, so it had nothing to do with Susan. Before the divorce, Tammy had been daddy's little girl and I think that infuriated my wife. When Teresa did leave me for another man, my daughter opted to stay with me, which wasn't all that surprising.
I looked at the clock over the fireplace: two o'clock in the morning. Tammy had left with some friends around five in the afternoon and had promised to be back at midnight. Now two hours had passed and no Tammy. To say the least, I was pissed. Unfortunately, at least in this particular situation, I had also had too much to drink. One lesson I've learned is that it's difficult to reason with my daughter when I'm anything less than sober, and four straight scotches weren't going to help me. But I no longer cared. It was time to bring this problem to an end.
Just as I downed the remaining scotch in my glass, I heard the front door open. I sat the glass on the table beside my recliner and waited. When she appeared in the door from the anteroom, I had to close my eyes. I'll admit that the sight of my daughter, dressed in a short leather skirt that barely covered her small ass and a tight blouse that accentuated her small tits, was seductive even to me. The tail of the blouse was rolled up and tied under her tits revealing her flat tummy.
I sucked in a slow, long breath and counted to ten. I'm ashamed to admit that my daughter's body aroused me, especially when I was so opposed to her lifestyle. I guess, though, that much of my opposition was due to the fact that she was living a life that was not good and productive, and also a little dangerous. But that opposition didn't excuse the erection that was quickly growing under the bathrobe I wore.
"It's two o'clock," I said.
"So?" she shrugged her slender shoulders. "Do I get a weather report with the time?"
"We had agreed that you would be home by midnight."
"You had agreed, daddy," she said sitting down in a chair across from me. "Are we going to have this conversation every time I go out?"
"Yes! Damn it, Tammy, when I tell you to be home by midnight I expect you to comply!"
"I'm eighteen, daddy," she said after a long pause. "I don't think I have to abide by a lot of archaic rules."
"They're my rules, Tammy."
"And that makes them right?"
I stopped and counted to ten, this time to keep from saying something I would later regret. Suddenly, Tammy uncrossed her long legs and re-crossed them. My eyes dropped involuntarily and, as her legs were spread slightly before she lifted the left onto the right, I had a clear shot of her smooth, milky white thighs and the black panties she was wearing. I almost groaned aloud when I saw this. I quickly averted my eyes.
"I, ah…the reason I want you in at a decent hour is that I worry about you," I said quickly, trying a tact that I'd used before. It didn't work then and I doubted it would work now, but I had to try.
"Listen, I appreciate your concern, daddy," she said, brushing fingers through her short red hair. "But we both know the real reason we're having this little daddy/daughter chat."
"I see," I said slowly, feeling my temper rise again. "Why don't you enlighten me?"
"You don't like my friends."
"Tammy, whether you realize it or not, there is not one redeeming value in that whole bunch of misfits that you loosely call friends."
That took the wind out of her sails. Tammy was quiet for a long moment and I sat patiently waiting for her to counter that argument. While I waited, she went through the leg crossing routine again and my eyes were once again drawn to her perfect thighs. This time I could have sworn that she spread her legs a little wider and then paused briefly before she crossed them again.
"You stay out sometimes all night – sometimes for a day or more with these people doing…"
"Doing what, daddy?" Tammy's voice had taken on a brittle, unpleasant edge.
The conversation had turned ugly as it nearly always did, and I knew that the scotch I had consumed earlier wasn't helping me at all. In fact I was becoming more argumentative than usual. And it was then that I took the argument down a road that I had refused to go before.
"Whoring around!" I spat.
"You think I'm fucking every guy I see?" her voice rose sharply.
"Aren't you?" My voice had taken on it's own edge of malice. The conversation was quickly going south.
"Why don't you say what you're really thinking?" she snapped back.
"Alright," I said nodding my head slowly. "I think you're fucking every sleazy bastard in town and I'm tired of it!"
"You have some gall!" she yelled leaning forward in her chair. "I saw you looking under my skirt when I crossed my legs! You did that twice and it isn't the only time you've looked at me! I've seen it before!"
That stopped me cold.
"You accuse me of fucking everyone in town," she continued, "when you've been copping cheap peeks at my panties!"
Even if I had had an argument, which I didn't, Tammy quickly unsnapped the button on her skirt, shoved the zipper down and stepped out of it before I could open my mouth. Then, just as quickly, she grabbed the front of the white blouse and yanked it viciously, sending buttons flying onto the floor. She stood in front of me wearing nothing but the pair of black lace panties I had seen when she crossed her legs earlier.
My eyes were drawn to her small tits and the hard pink nipples. I was speechless. Needless to say, the hard on I had lost because of the nasty turn in our argument, was back. I will also admit that I was humiliated because I knew my daughter was aware that I was aroused. Her own father, who had just accused her of whoring around, was staring at her nearly naked body with open mouth and a hard cock that was making a tent in his robe.
"Yeah, you like that, don't you, daddy?" she sneered. "You like looking at your little girl's tits."
"Tammy…"
"I bet you want to suck my nipples, don't you?" she asked with that same humiliating sneer on her lips.
