Stewart was dozing in front of the TV. Camille, his wife, was away on business and Paula, their daughter, was at her senior prom. Poor Paula. She'd sulked as she got ready for the prom. All the other girls were wearing deep-cut and figure-hugging dresses and Paula's was not only pink, it hid every feminine part of her body. Nobody could see her small waist or her lovely rounded hips, and there was no cleavage showing off her ripe d-cup breasts. Stewart remembered the fight the previous weekend when Camille had made Paula take the lovely black number back to the shop and get this instead. Stewart had tried to talk some sense into Camille, but she'd just played the old "She's my daughter" card again. It was true that Camille had given birth to Paula before she met Stewart, but as far as Paula was concerned, Stewart was the only father she'd ever known. He'd been there to hold her hand when she learnt to walk, he'd taught her to ride a bike, he'd built her a tree house and he'd been there to comfort her the first time a boy broke her heart.
Things hadn't been going well with Camille. They'd been a couple for 18 years now, but they never did anything together anymore. Camille spent all her time in her shop and travelling on business. He didn't remember the last time they'd fucked and it didn't matter. Camille had been a dead fish in bed for the last few years. She was 55 now and of the opinion that sex was for the younger generation. He'd never felt the age gap as strongly as he did now. When they met she'd been a vibrant 37-year old with an appetite for life in general and sex in particular. He'd been 22 years old, fresh out of college and amazed that there were women like Camille. He'd fallen for her hook, line and sinker and he'd proposed to her within months, despite his family's protests. Until now his only regret was that they hadn't had any children. He loved Paula with all his heart, but he'd always dreamt of having a big family. Lately he'd been thinking more and more of leaving Camille and starting a new family before it was too late. He hadn't done anything about it because he knew how devastated Paula would be. But Paula was going off to college soon. It was a time for changes and it was time for him to start looking for a new life.
The sound of the ringing phone woke Stewart from his dreams. He looked at the clock. It was eleven. Who would be calling at this time of night? It wouldn't be Camille and all of Paula's friends were at the prom. He wasn't on call so it wouldn't be the clinic. He answered the phone.
"Hello?"
"Dad," Paula was sobbing into her cell phone.
"Yes, baby," he said in a worried tone. This didn't sound right. "What's wrong?"
"I want you to come and pick me up," Paula continued sobbing.
"Sure thing, honey. Where are you?"
"I'm in the car park at the Rose Motel, please hurry."
"I'll be right there, sweetheart. Don't you worry. And call me on my cell if you need me!"
He was wide awake now. He grabbed his car keys off the table and ran out to his truck. The Rose Motel? What the hell was she doing there? The prom was at the Excelsior Hotel. He broke every speed limit to get there. When he pulled into the car park he saw a pink bundle hiding in a dark corner. He stopped the car and ran straight out to her.
"Paula," he said as he wrapped his arms around her shaking frame. "It's alright. Daddy's here. I'm gonna take you home."
He stood up and tried not to notice how her ripped dress showed off a naked breast as the bra had also been torn. He slowly walked Paula to the passenger side and helped her in. He got back in the driver's seat and drove home in silence. Paula was still sobbing when they came home.
"Should I call the police and have a doctor come and do a rape kit on you?"
Paula shook her head. "It didn't go that far."
Stewart breathed a sigh of relief. Whatever had happened to his little princess tonight would be repairable. She hadn't been scarred for life.
"You get out of those clothes and have a shower. I'll have some hot cocoa ready for you when you come back downstairs."
Paula shot him a grateful glance for not yelling at her or blaming her for getting in trouble, like her mom would have done. He heard the water running upstairs and he made two cups of cocoa. He put a few extra marshmallows in Paula's cup and then he sat down at the kitchen table and waited for her. He didn't have to wait long. Paula soon reappeared, looking much better. Gone was the smeared makeup, the tussled hair and the torn hair. She was wearing cotton pyjamas and her long red hair was tied into a wet ponytail.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he said as Paula started sipping her cocoa.
"Billy Taylor's parents are out of town this weekend so we were all heading to his place for a party at the end of the prom. Linda had thrown up because of the alcohol in the punch and Sarah had a fight with Chris so I was alone in the limo with Dean, Chris and Scott."
Stewart watched her take another sip of cocoa. He could picture the three boys, whom he'd known since they were toddlers, slightly drunk and alone with a girl in a limo.
"Dean started fooling around, kissing me and stuff," Paula continued. "Then he slipped his hand under my dress and started feeling me up. Chris and Scott were watching so I told him to stop, but they told him not to and then they wanted to join in. Chris grabbed hold of my arms and Scott tore my dress to fondle my breasts while Dean pulled my panties off. I struggled as much as I could and told them to stop, but they didn't listen. Dean got his cock out but he couldn't get between my legs so he let go of them while he repositioned himself. That's when I saw my chance and I kicked him in the crotch. He screamed and Scott stopped what he was doing so I bit his hand. Chris then let me go and called to the driver to stop. That was outside the Rose Motel. They threw me out of the car and drove off."
Stewart swore inside his head. He really wanted to get in the car and drive over to the Taylors' house and show those stupid boys a thing or two. But he knew it didn't solve anything.
"Are you OK now, baby?" he asked softly and placed his hand on Paula's.
"Yes," she smiled back. "Thank you, daddy. I'm glad mom's not home tonight."
So was Stewart. Camille would have found a way of blaming Paula for getting herself in that situation to begin with.
"And you know what the most stupid thing is?" Paula looked at him.
"No."
"It's that I was gonna let Dean go all the way tonight. I'd decided that prom night was going to be the night I lost my virginity. I'd even bought condoms."
Stewart held back a smile. He was glad that creep Dean wasn't going to get his baby girl's cherry.
"Thanks for being so understanding dad," Paula kissed his forehead. "I'm off to bed now."
