Inspired by Becky
* * * * *
I suppose it all began with a compliment made to me by my best friend, Linzi, on our way home from school about six months ago. I had just gotten myself a date with Bobby, the best looking boy in the class. Linzi was happy for me and not at all envious when she said:
'Becky, you're such a beautiful girl. I'll bet you could have any man you wanted in, like, the entire world.'
I smiled appreciatively but said nothing.
'Well, any man except one that is,' Linzi added.
I was a bit put out by this remark, following on as quickly as it did from her previous praise. And I think my puzzled expression coaxed Linzi into explaining herself.
'Your dad, silly.' She began. 'You could have anybody you wanted except him.'
We both laughed out loud at my previous concern that I was losing my touch, and that there might actually be a man out there impervious to my charms.
I said goodbye to Linzi at my front door and went up to my room. The thought of what she had said still nagged a little in my brain. It got me wondering. I began to ask myself whether I could make all men available to me, 100 per cent. I mean, could I, if I wanted that is, also seduce my dad? He's an ordinary, average father sure, but he's also a man, with a man's desires. I found myself thinking about whether an ordinary father, any father, would be willing to have sex with a daughter, if that daughter made it clear to the father that that was her wish and intention. I mean, if the daughter flaunted herself in front of the father so much and so blatantly that she was, by implication, giving the father the big green light. Would that ordinary father go for it? Would my dad go for it? All of a sudden, that question was becoming less of an academic poser and more of a practical challenge.
At dinner that evening, I found myself looking at dad in a way I had never done before. He was around mid-fifties I guess. He and mom had married late in life. He was just a normal guy. He liked his beer, and was massively overweight because of it. I mean gross. But he was a kind man with a friendly, happy face. He liked watching football and having his buddies come round for poker. Like I said, he's just an average dad.
That night, as I lay in bed, I began to think more on the subject of seduction. If dad had been just a guy in the street, a stranger, then I could have him easy. Just a flutter of the eyes, a longer than necessary look, or maybe a flash of thigh is all it would take. But dad wasn't just a guy in the street; he was my dad, the man who made me. Surely it would be impossible for me to seduce him. I mean, what about the risks? What if he was to tell mom? No, he would never tell mom. She might think that he had made all the running and he'd get the blame himself. Mom would always believe me, I knew that. But it could turn out that he would turn me down and never speak to me again, and I couldn't stand that. But could he refuse such an open invitation if it was just the once? Could any father?
I had an uncomfortable sleep that night. I couldn't get dad out of my mind. More to the point, I couldn't get any peace from my own question; could I have him if I wanted him? By the time morning came, I knew in my mind that I would have to try. I would offer sex to my dad, and after he had accepted, and I had proved to myself that I could literally have any man that I wanted, I would smile kindly, and tell him that it had just been an experiment. Nobody would be hurt and my conscience would be clear. I would set about my plan right away.
My opportunity came the following Wednesday evening. Mom works for a chain of supermarkets as a checkout operator and shelf stacker. Most of her shifts are daytime, but on Wednesday's she is required to work from 6 p.m. to 2 am in the morning. On these days she leaves me to prepare dinner for dad and I. That Wednesday, when dad got home from work, he saw me in my first attempt at his seduction. I had rushed home from school, showered, put on some light make-up, and dressed in a short, red baby doll nightie and a pair of matching kitten heeled slippers that I had found in mom's shoe closet. The slippers were a bit too big, but as they were backless, that didn't matter. And they did give me a little more height and make my legs look better.
The hem of the baby doll outfit came to just below the matching red panties that I wore underneath. And I knew that as I twirled around in normal movement, the material was so fine that the nightie fluttered up to offer tantalising glimpses of my scantily covered bottom. I was very aware of dad's eyes upon me right from the outset, and half expected him to ask me to go cover up. But, I guess the eye candy was too good to resist and, though he didn't make any comment either way, I knew that I had got him interested. I went to bed that night, having first returned mom's slippers, confident that I would soon have dad exactly where I wanted him.
For the following two Wednesday evenings, I performed similar shows in front of dad. On the second occasion, I wore a short white halter neck tennis dress with a pair of mom's white high heeled sling backs, and for the third Wednesday, I wore the same shoes (all of mom's pumps just slipped off me) with a pink boob tube and a pair of tight white shorts. The fact that I was wearing sandals borrowed from mom's wardrobe, and that I only dressed like this when we were alone, must have given dad some hint of my intentions. But although he had begun to stare at my body with less and less self awareness, and now didn't turn away whenever I caught his gaze, dad still hadn't given me the opportunity to make a pass at him. I decided at the end of that third week that the following Wednesday would hail a bolder daughter.
That day arrived and I was so very excited at what might occur as a result of my stronger approach. When dad came into the house, I was just putting his dinner on the table. This time I was wearing a simple, high cut, powder blue slip dress, matching thongs and the same white high heeled sandals of mom's. I sat in the chair opposite the dining table whilst dad ate. I made sure that the light dress had risen well up my thighs as I crossed my legs towards dad's deliberate gaze. I was thrilled with the fact that he was now blatantly staring at my body.
At about eight o'clock, with butterflies of nervousness and excitement in my tummy, I got up and sat on the couch very close to dad. Summoning up courage, I took hold of his hand and spoke:
'Daddy, could I ask you for some confidential advice?'
