The tension in the car was electric and Charo was more than a little scared. She hadn't seen her father quite this angry in years and she hated it when feelings between them were this bad, as they had been quite often over the past twelve months. After all, as he always used to say, she was his "favorite girl". He had removed his suit jacket when they had set off and her eyes dwelledon his hairy forearms that normally gave her a sense of security. But right now they suggested more power and authority, even danger.
"Daddy ...please! Tell me what's wrong." She hated the way her voice sounded so small and pleading, or so it seemed. Maybe it was just the way she perceived it when up against such obvious indignation, and while feeling that she was on the moral low ground.
All she knew was that she had been called to the principal's office only to find her father there, summoned from his office downtown, so obviously it was a serious matter but, when Mrs Ferguson had started to initiate a conversation, Ramon Martinez had intervened: "No, if you don't mind, I'd rather confront my daughter with this matter alone". His expression had been thunderous and Charo knew that at times like that, it was best to just keep quiet and not ask any questions. Obviously, so did Mrs Ferguson.
And right now it still wasn't a good time. She looked miserably out of the window and realized for the first time that they weren't heading for home and in fact were driving out of town.
"Daddy, at least tell me where we are going."
There was a long silence and then Ramon said, in a cold, almost menacing tone, "Somewhere where we can talk uninterrupted. I'm not having your mother performing her usual 'sister of mercy' act this time."
God, thought Charo, this is MAJOR! What have I DONE!" For the next four or five minutes she tried to find a suitably serious misdemeanor at school which would qualify, but couldn't. It was only when they slowed right down and Ramon drove the car off the road and down a sandy track through the trees that she reconnected with the present.
They emerged in a clearing and, in front of them, sat the glistening expanse of the lake. Charo knew that there were many spots like this around its edge; previous boyfriends had brought her to a number of them and only last week she had been here with Carl. Carl!!! Oh shit, she thought, was it something about her and Carl? But she dismissed that – surely there was no way that her dad would know about that.
Ramon switched off the engine and, as the air conditioning went off, opened the car windows. The warm sweet smelling air engulfed them, as did the gentle sound of the breeze in the trees. What neither of them had seen was that another car had followed them almost into the clearing and had quietly slid to a halt. No one had got out.
She remained silent, knowing it was the best way to react at the moment. Despite her reassurance that this couldn't be too bad, her heart was pounding. She looked at her dad as he loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt and his face still bore the look of controlled anger. At 42, he was one of those fortunate Latinos who had kept his good looks late into life, in fact who looked sexier as the years gave his features more character.
When he spoke, his voice was controlled. "Tell me. What's going on between you and this Mr. Dawson?"
Charo almost choked. "What..." she gasped.
"Mr Dawson ... Carl Dawson."
Carl Dawson was a 42-year-old member of staff who had started at the school just a week before. It had been obvious from the first day that he was an incorrigible flirt and all the girls in Charo's year had been wild with anticipation as to who would be the first to be the special object of his charm. Charo, being very much the leader of her peer group, had determined that it would be her. Only two days before she had sat in class and had deliberately given him the opportunity to see up her short skirt as she sat overtly hanging on his every word, looking at him so innocently but enjoying the thrill of his reactions when he finally noticed and only letting him know it was deliberate, with a cheeky little smirk as she left the class. He had been forced to spend the last third of his lesson sitting behind his desk, the discomfort of his erection made worse every time he looked at the sexy brunette. She had deliberately worn a pair of her skimpiest, semi see-through panties that she knew revealed the deep dark shadow of her pussy slit. But, not one to allow an opportunity to pass him by, he had called her back and, swiveling in his seat just enough for her to see his tented pants, had told her that it might be necessary for her to have a few extra lessons to bring her up to her potential. Charo had sweetly smiled and said that would be just fine by her.
And the lessons he had taught her here by the lake last Friday night had been mind-blowing. She had never known sex like it.
"Daddy, I don't know what you mean!"
"Well, Mrs Ferguson knows exactly."
How could she? It was impossible, she reasoned. "Daddy, I really don't know what you mean!"
"Charo, one of your classmates told her. You were deliberately flashing him in class."
She knew that the look on her face must have told him all he wanted to know and she could do nothing about it. She was just so shocked that one of her friends could have done this to her.
"She even said that the poor man was so disturbed by your behavior he had to have words with you before you left his class. Mrs Ferguson tells me that he's married with four kids. He must have felt awful about it! How dare you put him in that position
Charo spluttered. "Daddy, he didn't have words with me. Well he did ... but it was the opposite to what you think. He said he wanted .... that he ...." She couldn't bring herself to verbalize what Carl had actually said.
"What did he say? Charo....?"
