I know the exact moment when I started to look at Emily differently...
First she was born, she was my baby and I would have killed anyone to assure her safety. I spoiled her, sure, but when she looked at me with those blue eyes of hers and asked "pleeeaaaase?" I just couldn't say no. She was the sweetest kid, too. She made friends easily and she never said a mean thing about any of her schoolmates. She was polite, she listened to me and she knew what to do and when to do it. In a word, she was perfect. Of course, you're probably thinking that I'm biased since she's my daughter, but other people told me the same. So, it's not just me.
Then she became a teenager and I was scared for her: after all, I had been a boy and I knew we weren't to be trusted. Especially at around 13 or 15, when the hormones start to work their magic. Emily was a bit precocious, meaning that her breasts were well formed by the age of fourteen and she looked older than she was. I'm sure that her long slander legs, her thin frame and her long brown hair were present in more than one boy's dreams. But I wasn't too worried, knowing that Emily was responsible and wouldn't go out with just anybody. This being said, she was never bitchy or snotty about her looks. The not-so-popular kids as well as the cheerleaders loved her because she just was herself. That's something I taught her at an early age, knowing that a bitchy girl is really annoying (I had known more than a few when I was a teenager and had a hard time getting over them).
And then she graduated high school and it was such a happy occasion. She looked radiant on her prom night and her date was a kind and gentle boy, someone nobody really liked at school and whom nobody even expected to see with Emily. Which is why she went and asked him out. Apparently he almost passed out when she did. And a lot of boys were jealous. But good for Emily. She told me she had had a lovely time and that the boy had been a perfect gentleman.
Then she moved away to go to college somewhere back East and I was quite sad, knowing I wouldn't see her as much; but I was also excited for her: her life was starting. She wanted to become a lawyer and I always joked with her, saying she wouldn't make it, because she was too honest.
And so here I was, alone at home, working and emailing Emily daily. She kept updating me on her life, on her boyfriends (she always had a new one as things never really seemed to "work between them"), her friends and where they hung out. It made me miss my youth. And I couldn't believe that my baby was already in college.
One summer, she came to visit to enjoy Los Angeles and it's sun. I picked her up at LAX and drove her home and we couldn't stop talking and asking each other questions. We were so excited to see each other again! I was so happy because she wasn't faking it. Unlike other kids who hated their parents and for whom visiting them was a chore, she was obviously happy to see me.
And so we talked all the way home and once there, we sat in the living room and talked some more. I poured myself a Martini and when she asked for one, I almost told her, "You're too young for a drink, honey." But then I remembered that she was 21. Christ... 21! So I poured her one and we drank. And then we drank a couple more and I think that's when things started to get weird...
I proposed to go to Chianti, a restaurant I knew she loved and she immediately agreed to it. We got up to change into more appropriate clothes and went to our own bedrooms. As usual, I got ready before her, even though my head was spinning from the gin. I had my blue suit on and a lovely Armani tie she had sent me for my last birthday. I then went back to the living room and had another Martini. I then heard her footsteps.
"Okay, I'm ready!"
She entered the room and I almost dropped my glass. It is at this very moment that I realized my baby was not a baby anymore. But a woman. And a striking one at that. She was wearing a black skirt that stopped at mid-thigh and some black leather boots. Her top was a pretty blouse, which accentuated her forms. My eyes couldn't get away from her legs : They were beautiful. And having always loved boot-clad women, this was even a more amazing sight. Her thighs were muscular but thin and they were tanned. They looked so smooth, I wanted to caress them.
I blinked a few times, trying to stop myself from staring at her and gave her a compliment. I then downed my drink and got up to make myself a new one.
"Can I have one, too?"
And so we drank some more. We sat and she was close to me, her legs crossed. Her skirt was a bit up and I could see the thigh muscles under that perfect looking skin and to my horror I could feel an erection starting to poke my pants.
"You're wearing the tie I got you!"
"Yes, do you like it on me?"
"Of course!"
She grabbed the tie in her long delicate fingers and looked at it closer. To my shame, I took the opportunity of her not looking at me to look some more at her legs, at the calves coming out of the boots, at her small but firm-looking breasts, the shape of her neck, her...
I drank some more and looked away.
"Okay, so... should we go? It's gonna be eight, soon."
"Yeah... but... Are you okay to drive?"
I started to tell her that I was, but I clearly wasn't and so I told the truth.
"Neither am I..."
We looked at each other and laughed.
"Great, my daughter and I get drunk on Martinis. Great education, huh?"
She laughed some more.
"Come on, you're the best dad there is... You know that!"
I blushed a bit. She smiled and handed me her glass.
"Well, since we're staying in, how about some more?"
I couldn't get up! My erection was still very much there and getting up would certainly make it obvious to Emily. I had to find an excuse.
"Why don't you make them?"
"'Cause you make them better! Pleeaaaase?"
I smiled and thought of her when she was a little girl.
"No, really... you do them, Emily."
There was a pause and she looked at me.
"Don't worry about getting up, I've seen your erection."
I felt my ears warm up and my face flushing. Had I heard right?
"Excuse me?!"
She hesitated for a second. She clearly hadn't meant to be so straightforward. Blame it on the gin.
"I... I mean, you know... It's okay. I mean... You're a man. It's not like I've never seen an erection before..."
"Emily!"
This time it was her turn to blush.
"Well, you know I'm probably not a virgin..."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I want to hear about it!"
She giggled.
"Sorry... I think I'm a bit tipsy."
"Yeah, well... Me too."
Surprisingly, her talking about my erection had not had the effect I expected. Instead of receding, it was still very much alive. More so than before, even.
