I had never been happy with the size breasts, and what there was was already, at the age of nineteen, starting to sag, so I took the opportunity of a little time off to get myself a little surgery. After a little recuperation around the flat for a couple of months I decided I needed to rethink some of my wardrobe to fit with my new shape, and I went out to do a little shopping.
I went shopping around all the best stores, but couldn’t see very much I liked. I was just on my way back to the hotel when I spotted someone I had liked even less. He was standing chatting to a couple of guys at the side of the road, and laughing, leering at girls as they walked past. I hadn’t seen him for around seven years. He hadn’t changed a bit. Apparently I had, though, as when I walked past he leered at me the same as the other girls. Well, that’s not quite true. He leered more. He was attempting to be no more faithful to his third wife than he had to his first. My mother.
My father stepped back in mock fright as I walked back, apparently expecting an attack. I paused a moment, scared of what I was about to attempt. I swallowed. First I would test the water. ‘Hi.’
My father stopped his laughing, nonplussed. ‘Hello, love. How can I help yer?’
‘Steve?’ I kept my accent as clipped Home Counties as I could.
Now my dad was really fazed. ‘Erm… Yes,’ he said, cautiously.
‘Christine,’ I said, holding out my hand. ‘Perhaps your daughter mentioned me?’
He relaxed a little, perhaps relieved that I wasn’t from the tax office. ‘No. Have we met?’
‘A long time ago. Though you must have made an impression on me, I suppose. I went to school with your daughter.’
He furrowed his brow in concentration. ‘Now that you mention it I do seem to recall a Christine. Bit of a tearaway, eh?’
‘Yes, that’ll be me,’ I chortled falsely. The fact that he remembered Christine didn’t surprise me. She had practically thrown her pert, large breasts at every man she came into contact with. Breasts that were about the same size as mine were now. Not large for a nineteen year old, but huge for a twelve year-old. Breasts that kept grabbing my father’s attention even now.
‘If you’re not busy, perhaps you would care to join me for a spot of lunch?’ I asked innocently. I looked at my father’s friends. Any other time I would have been delighted for a threesome, but this was different. I wanted to tempt my father into something.
You see my parents had split up, many years before, because he was abusive to my mother. From what I gather my mother had not always been keen on sex, and my dad used to threaten her to make her do things. Nothing violent, that’s not usually my dad’s way. He used to take photographs of her in compromising positions, threaten to sleep with her sister, that kind of thing. The final straw was when he raped my cousin, while she was staying over. He has always denied it was rape, and nothing was ever proved, but my mum had had enough. I had never been sure whom I believed, but I knew I disliked him. This was my chance to prove it to myself one way or another. And my little mental checklist of fetishes could get ticked off one if I was right. And my dad certainly was a good-looking man.
