[This is the first time I have tried to write from a man's perspective. Please give me feedback if I have done a good job]
I didn't know whether I wanted to be a step-father or not. I was 45 and didn't have any children of my own.
I loved Becky, my girlfriend, and we had been going out for two years. She asked me to move in with her, but that would mean living with her daughter as well. She was 18, last year of high school, but still a kid, living in her mother's home. The father had shot through a long time ago. The daughter, too, was named Becky.
After some thought I moved in. At first the relationship was normal. But it was after I had been there a few months that our relationship began to change.
At first it was innocent enough. She would buy clothes and ask me if they suited her. It was a hot summer in Australia. The clothes were skimpy.
"Does this look good on me?" she would ask, showing off a pair of tight blue jeans. I always said yes, of course. I haven't dated women all these years for nothing.
"Does my blonde hair go with this?" she would ask, putting on shorts that showed a lot of thigh, and her tummy as well.
She never asked me to comment on her tops. She was very small and embarrassed by it.
The flirtation started, it is difficult to say when, but things were definitely not normal when she started coming into the bathroom while I was showering.