I guess it all started back when I was 18. I was in my last year of school, and I didn't want to go to university or anything like that. I'd been raised by Dad on the farm, and that's all I wanted to do. But before I get too into the story, I want to put your mind at ease - this isn't going to be one of those lame stories about a naive farm girl who sees some animals having sex or something, then asks Dad about it and he's all "Oh, I'll be happy to show you, darling..."
So, I wanted a job on the farm with Dad. It'd been just him and me for almost all my life - Mum died in a car crash with a drunk driver when I was three years old, and it still hurts him to this day. He's always said he wasn't interested in remarrying, joking "You're the only woman in my life now." When I told him my plans for after school, he was mostly happy, but wanted to make sure I was doing it for the right reasons. I told him that farm life's all I've known and all I've wanted for as long as I could remember, and I wasn't just staying on because I felt bad about leaving him by himself. So don't ever think Dad tried to keep me on the farm for selfish reasons; it was what I wanted.
I went to school in the closest town, about half an hour's drive away, and even longer by bus. School was...fine. I had a small group of friends, mostly also farm kids, but we were never really close outside of school, especially since all our properties were in different directions out of town. And boyfriends? Ha! There wasn't a hope in hell for me in that department. Sure, I was thin, with a healthy tan, and a friendly smile, none of that really matters if you don't have tits. Boys always look straight through flat-chested girls like we don't exist. Try to deny it, but sit me next to a woman with anything larger than a C cup and I turn invisible. Not that it was all about my body, either. I had really bad acne all through high school, and that certainly did me no favours with the boys.
But I'm getting sidetracked. The story really starts one day just before I finished school. One of my friends, Michelle, was really upset one day. She was in tears, talking about how her dad just up and left the night before, leaving all the family and the farm behind. Obviously, I felt for her. It's a horrible situation for anybody. But what I felt the most was gratitude. My dad would never do that to me, even if he did find another wife. When I got home that afternoon, I ran up to him and gave him a massive hug and didn't let go for ages. I told him Michelle's story and started crying, saying how much I loved him and how grateful I was that he would never leave me.
He reassured me, saying he'd be by my side for as long as he'd live. He held me tight and told me he loved me. He went back to work, leaving me alone in the house for the rest of the afternoon. And that was just as well, because I was a wreck. For some reason, breaking down like that set something off inside me, and I couldn't stop crying. I felt suddenly, massively depressed and lamented everything in my life, from Mum's death to my complete lack of a love life at the positively ancient age of 18. I was a sorry mess indeed. I think I cried until nighttime, when Dad came back inside. He came and found me in my room. My eyes and cheeks were red and puffy, and my nose was sore from all the tissues.
"Holy shit. What's wrong, darling?"
"I don't know. Everything."
"What do you mean, 'everything'?"
"Everything. Mum, Michelle, you being single. Me never having a boyfriend, never will."
"Okay, I understand about the first couple. And I've told you before that you're the only woman in my life now, and I'm happy with that. But what's this about never having a boyfriend?"
"Well I don't see how I'll get one all the way out here, and especially without getting fucking plastic surgery or something," I whined.
"Hey now. Even if you live here with me for the reset of your life, you'll have heaps of opportunities to meet guys, Hannah. Now, to me you're perfect, so I'll need you to tell me what plastic surgery you think you'll need before I make things worse by trying to guess."
"It's pretty obvious."
"Hannah, tell me."
"Well, I don't have any tits, so how about we start there?" I informed him with no small amount of venom.
"That's all you're worried about? Christ, that's a relief," he smiled. "Look, I know I'm your father so what I'm gonna say is probably worth less than nothing. But believe me, Hannah, you're gorgeous and beautiful and the right guy for you won't give two shits about the size of your ...bra. He'll see how smart and funny and special you are and that's all he'll care about."
Thankfully, that actually got through to me. It took me a while to respond, but I eventually said, "Thanks, Dad. I love you."
"I love you too, Hannah. Hope that helped a little. Oh, and I think it's worth pointing out that your mother was a member of the Committee, too. And she was the most beautiful, sexy creature I've ever laid eyes on."
"Committee...?"
"You know: the Itty Bitty Titty Committee. "
I cracked up. "Ew, gross! Get out of my room, you old perv!"
He left with that ridiculously cheeky, pleased-with-himself smile of his, and started getting ready to cook dinner. Meanwhile, I seemed to be cured. Just one five minute chat with Dad and I was already laughing after 3 hours of tears. I think it was about that time a light went off in my head. I was so blind, so stupid! Why was I even the least bit worried about finding a boyfriend? I was already sharing a house with the perfect man. The only hard part would be getting him to see how perfect we'd be together. In hindsight, it sounds like it was a spur of the moment decision, but, like they say, when you know, you know. The idea was so fully formed, so obvious, that once it occurred to me, it wouldn't leave my head.
Dad and I had never really been open about sex or anything like that up too that point. Hell, I had to learn about periods from my friends at school! So approaching Dad and suggesting we start a physical relationship was going to be challenging, to say the least. I'd have to go about it the right way.
That night at dinner, I came on strong. Too strong, really. I was being ultra sweet to Dad, and asked him "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" A bunch of times. When he'd say yes, I'd say "And you're so handsome, Dad." Cheesy, I know. But it wasn't a lie. I'd always thought he was really good-looking, but now I was seeing him in a different light, you know?
Anyway, when we finished eating and I'd cleared the table, I sat back down and told him, "Dad, what I'm going to say might - no, will - sound crazy, but I want you to think about it before you reply. Like, really, really think about it."
He looked confused and concerned. Justifiable. "Right..."
"Promise me you'll give it proper thought?"
He sighed. "I promise."
I took a big breath. "Okay, here goes. Do you think, since I'm going to be living here and running the farm with you - learning the business and all that - do you think I'd be considered an equal partner in the farm with you?"