It was the Saturday before the Senior Prom. Janice Young, eighteen year-old daugher of the noted cardiac surgeon, Doctor Alfred Young, stopped in the family den to see her father. Janice wore the gown she designed for the prom. Her dream was to attend design school and work for the big houses in New York.
“Daddy, I need your help.”
“What’s up, Baby?
“I need a few spots adjusted. Not something I can do on a dress form.”
Janice stands in front of her father. He has done this before. Lydia, his wife and Janice’s mother, was a writer and could not sew a stitch. Alfred helps his daughter because it kept his fingers nimble for surgery.
Alfred took the sewing kit from Janice. He pulled loose a few seams and redid them to leave smooth fabric. He soon had the dress fitting his daughter like a second skin.
He skimmed his hand over the dress to be sure no other location needed adjusting. He ran his hand down the back of the gown. He found himself slowing down as his hand moved across Janice’s backside.
He found himself thinking it was a nice backside. It was small, round and firm. He felt the heat come through the cloth. He paused his hand, letting the heat warm his hand.
“Turn around, Jan.”
She turned to face her father. He started at the bodice of the gown. It was cut low. Low enough the upper edge of her areolae were exposed when she breathed deeply. Janice moved and she was uncovered to the nipples. Alfred saw this was designed so Janice could reveal what she wanted revealed.
“Would you check the front for wrinkles, Dad?”
Alfred started at the top of the strapless gown. That top was just above her nipples. His hands froze.
“Come on, Dad. I can’t go to the prom with bad seams.”
His fingers that could remove and replace a dying heart became clumsy. It was like he was wearing boxing gloves. His hand rested on his daughter’s breast. He felt the nipple grow under his touch. To him, if felt like a strawberry.
He went lower, looking for imperfections in the dress. What he found was perfection in his daughter. The skin of her gown enhanced the skin of her body.
Her waist was tight and small. He had a moment’s fear that Janice was anorexic. No, there were no bones outlined to his touch. She was just thin built.
“Jan, you are a beautiful woman.”
That was when he noticed the shallowness of his breathing. He watched the movements of his daughter’s breasts. She was aroused, too.
“I think you’re perfect.”
“What about the dress, Daddy?”
“That was what I was talking about.”
Janice pushed his hand lower, till it rested on her mons.
“This needs to be a bit smoother, Dad.”
Alfred moved his hand to smooth out the fabric. It was not the fabric that caused the ripples. It was the contour of her sex. Alfred felt the irregular pattern that was her pubic hair. His hand instinctively flexed. He found the thin panties she wore.
“Dad, I need your help in something else, too.”
“What’s that, Dear?”
“Jimmy, my date, has a room for us to spend the night.”
She watched her father for a reaction. He did not get mad but he lost some the erection her father did not know he had.
“You know the risks and dangers, Jan. Your mother and I trust you to make up your own mind.”
“Well, Jimmy thinks I’m an experienced woman. I don’t want to disappoint him.”
Her father stared at her. He never thought about her having sex. It was her call. She was a girl who dated. He assumed she had her first lay long ago. Now, she was hinting that she was still virginal.
“I want my night with him to be the best possible. I need to learn how to please a man.”
Father and daughter sat on the sofa. Alfred tried to decipher what Janice was telling him.
“Did you ever talk to your Mom about this?”
“It was like reading her novels. Her books can make me cream, but she can’t vocalize her ideas.”
