On that Saturday night, Jo and I decided to watch a new CG anime film I had seen at Best Buy:
Vexille
. We made the popcorn and had the Cokes ready, then settled back on the sofa to watch as the final rays of daylight gave way to a darkness held at bay only by the flickering images from the television screen.
Not long after the popcorn was gone, my daughter leaned into me. That was not unusual, nor was the fact that I put my arm around me. We shared a smile for a moment before returning our attention to the subtitles.
We were deep into the film when I realized that the small hand on my leg had moved well up my thigh. I assumed that Jo was not aware of where her hand was placed, and when I gave her a gentle squeeze, her hand did not retreat as if she recognized that she had just been caught.
Once again, I wondered if the woman leaning against me was jo4daddy, if this was the same person who had written about being restrained and raped by tentacles. I turned my attention away from the screen for a moment, gazing upon her fondly yet with the questions lingering near the forefront of my mind.
Shortly after I returned my attention to the film, Jo shifted against me, a breast brushing my side. If I did not have those questions in my mind, I would not have thought anything of her shifting, if I had even consciously noticed it. But since I kept trying to determine if Jo was jo4daddy, the feel of her breast against my side felt like a burning coal had been pressed against me.
My body reacted, to my embarrassment. I could feel the growth begin, the initial stirring which threatened to demonstrate to Jo that my thoughts were not appropriate for a father and his daughter.
Then her hand moved again, slightly higher on my thigh.
The last part of the film that I remember clearly was the initial appearance of the Jags. After that, everything is a blur: trying to think about anything but the woman against me yet my body and my mind focused on her presence and especially on her hand and her breast, trying to picture my precious Jo being assaulted by tentacles yet wanting only to think of her as the bridesmaid who had caught the bouquet, wanting to enjoy the film yet truly relishing just having my arm around her, wanting to run away from this situation yet desiring to clutch my daughter tightly and revel in the press of our bodies...
She was standing, stretching, her body in profile to me, the swells upon her chest highlighted perfectly as the credits rolled just behind her. Jo smiled at me. "Great choice, Daddy," she approved.
All too soon, she was in her bedroom as I cleaned up and set the dishwasher to its task. Fortunately, my arousal had never grown to a full erection, but I was almost one hundred percent certain that Jo had been aware of my body's reaction during the film.
If she had indeed noticed, she never gave an indication, and that only caused me to wonder yet again if she was leading a double life.
I heard the shower running in Jo's bathroom, but did not think much about it until some thirty minutes later when I realized that I had not heard her turn off the water. Fortunately, the water system in the house was good enough for both a shower and the dishwasher to operate at the same time without any trouble, but a thirty-minute shower certainly seemed unusual.
...unless Jo had indeed noticed my arousal during the film and was masturbating herself to an orgasm - or two or three.
The dishwasher finished its work before I heard the water flow end in Jo's bathroom. By the time she emerged, I was downstairs finishing with a magazine from the day's mail. I looked up to find her wrapped in her favorite pink terrycloth robe, the same one I had bought her for her sixteenth birthday. The pink Hello Kitty slippers seemed a bit childish in relation to the robe, but the slippers helped to anchor her in my mind as the teenage girl who had gushed with excitement when she had worn the robe for the first time.
"Going to bed?" I asked.
