Dear Diary
The pride and joy of my life, Emily, was born on January 7, 1993 to my wife Julie and me. And it was my joy to see her graduate High School in 2011. Our lives were rocky, though, during those 18 years. In 2006, I lost my wife, Julie. She was taken suddenly in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver. It was a very difficult time for both me and my thirteen-year-old daughter, Emily. Julie had been working late the night it happened, while I stayed home with Emily. We received a call from the police... and immediately went to the hospital where she was pronounced dead on arrival.
I never expected to go from being in a happy family... to suddenly being a single father. And being a single father to a teenage girl was very difficult. There was no other family on either my side or Julie's to help. Both of our parents had died and neither one of us had any siblings. So it was just Emily and me.
I was lucky that Julie had taught Emily a lot of what it took to be a woman. I don't know if I could have explained to her about periods, tampons, makeup, and all that. My role was luckily left to being the shoulder to cry on, the protector, and the provider. I worked long and hard to be in that role, sacrificing my own social life for the most part. Sure, I was lucky every now and then and was set up on a date, but they never really panned out. And Emily was so needy then that I felt bad about leaving her.
As Emily grew into a full-fledged teenager, however, she became more and more difficult to deal with. It was as if her hormones were always getting the better of her. She was rebellious, often times directly challenging and going against my authority, making me have to punish her. She was dressing more and more like a slut, especially as her body developed her curves. And she was definitely her mother's child... her curves are impressive. Her shorts and jeans got tighter, and her shirts and skirts got shorter. More than once, I had to force her to change her clothes before she went out. And more than once I had to chastise her for walking around the house practically naked, wearing only a towel.
I threatened her on more than one occasion, when I'd just about had enough, to throw her over my knee and spank her. I told her that if she was going to act like a little girl then I was going to treat her like one. Defiantly she seemed to just stand there, daring me to do it. But I always caved in and just sent her to her room, grounding her.
When she graduated high school, in 2011, she decided she didn't want to go to college just yet. She wanted to just live at home and have some fun. We argued all the time about her not working, her not helping around the house, her not going to school, her being on the computer or her phone all the time. I was working twelve-hour days, then having to come home and clean and cook for her. At nineteen I thought she was just going to throw her life away rather than actually expand herself and become the woman I knew she could be.
She was getting so difficult that one day when she went out with friends, I snuck into her room to look for some evidence of something... drugs... I didn't know... something that would explain this all to me. I did a cursory search, looking under the bed, searching through her bookshelf, digging through her dresser drawers, looking everywhere I could think that she might hide something.
The dresser drawers were not the place I should have looked, though. I think that was the beginning of my downfall. It was Saturday, October 6, 2012, when Emily was nineteen.
When I opened of of her drawers I was confronted with her panties. Without even thinking twice, I slid my hands into the silky material searching for drugs. I felt my fingertips slip against something hard and plastic and when I pulled it out I almost jumped... it was a vibrator. I looked at it for far too long, almost envisioning her using it... of her sucking on it... of her moaning as she came... but then I shook my head to clear it and put it back. The lingerie then shocked me next as the silky softness caressed my hands. I lifted a pair of panties from the drawer, a black lace thong, with only a small black triangle in the front covering her... her... I closed my eyes, just trying to flush these thoughts from my mind, but they were only made stronger.
In my mind's eye, I watched her putting on her panties... of her pulling them up her long legs and sliding them over her hips... of her adjusting the strap between her ass cheeks... the thin panel covering her... her pussy. I shivered, knowing just how wrong these thoughts were. I tossed the panties back into the drawer and noticed something shining from beneath the pile of material. When I parted the panties, several DVDs were stacked inside the back corner inside the drawer, homemade one's with a simple white envelopes covering them.
I could feel my throat dry up and reached down to pick up them up, but pulled away as if hit by an electrical shock. I couldn't look at them... not yet anyways. I'd already done too much. I slipped out of her room and closed the door.
My mind was reeling over what I'd just done and what I'd just found. I went in to find drugs and came out seeing Emily as a sexual being. I'd never thought of her having sex before, but I guess she was that age. I couldn't confront her over it, but it still concerned me. What concerned me more, however, was the fact that she dominated my mind at that point, seeing her in a whole new light... seeing her as a sexual, sensual, desirable woman.
Her rebellion continued for the next month, but I had lost my edge and my fight. I was even less likely to punish her for what she was doing and saying. The way she was dressing now just drove me crazy. I think she knew it, too, but I wasn't sure. She'd walk around in just a towel and I couldn't even look at her any more. The thought of what was under that towel just dominated my mind.
When she went out that weekend, I snuck back into her room again, looking around. I walked to her dresser first, and looked in her panty drawer, finding her vibrator and the DVDs still there. I looked at her night stand and saw her diary sitting on top. I stared at it for a moment, wondering if I should invade the private thoughts of my own daughter like that. I closed the drawer and picked up the book, still wrestling with the morality of what I was about to do. I sat on her bed and opened it up. Inside were a few folded notes and pictures, what looked like things from her friends, and many entries, dating back several years.
I thumbed through it a moment, seeing if anything caught my eye... and in just a page or two one did.
==================== Wednesday, February 16, 2012
Dear Diary, I really want to fuck an older man again. Fucking John last night was just lame! For a fucking 18-year-old you'd think he'd know where a clit was and what it was for!!
After I lost my virginity in May, on June 17, 2011 I got my second chance. It was while I was on vacation. At 18 years old, that strange surge of energy awoke in me a new desire, to express myself through my body. A deep seated craving to experience the sensation of the kiss, the caress, the touch on my skin. People often ask me how I feel when I have sex. I know that my sex life is damaging and that many men only want me for sex. But I like that. I like that men and women find me desirable. I like that they want to please me and be pleased by me... even if it's for no other reason than pleasure itself.
My first lover was an older man, on vacation himself. He was so incredibly gentle with me as he laid me down and licked all over my body, slowly undressing me. I was shivering with need, and felt his every caress like it was directly on my clit. I remember when he hugged me from behind, one hand on my breast, toying with my nipples while the other played with my pussy. His lips and teeth nibbled at my neck and ear as his finger slid into me for the first time.
His fingers seemed so long, sliding so deeply into me. I never knew sex could feel this incredible! Then he gently laid me on my back and put my legs on his chest. His cock was the biggest thing I'd ever seen and didn't know how it could ever fit inside me, but it did. And it felt so incredible! I don't know how many times I came, far too many to count. He pulled out of me at one point and masturbated, while he looked down at me. I couldn't believe how erotic it was! When he came on my stomach, his warm cum dripping on my bare skin, his face showing his pure, unadulterated pleasure from me, his incredible desire for me, I was the happiest person ever!
