The day was just another warm, bright Tuesday afternoon in the middle of July. I was doing some yard work and long long-overdue cleanup as my kids played nearby. My oldest daughter, Gina, usually lost in her own little world, was sunbathing on a blanket in the backyard. While she will always be my little girl, she was a fine young woman in every regard. As was typical when I was working, my mind was off on thirty different things at the same time. Focused on the task at hand, and absently monitoring the children in the background, all while running off on several different tangents. I did not notice Gina had left her solitude until I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Dad. Have some water,” she offered as she handed me a tall, sweating glass of ice water. I downed it all in no time flat as she stood grinning at my thirsty achievement.

“Thank you, I needed that,” I said with appreciation as I handed her the glass.

“More?” She looked at me quizzically.

“Not right now, thank you.”

“Need some help?” she asked.  It was only now that I noticed she had swapped out her bathing suit for some jean shorts and a tank top.

“What’s your angle?” I eyeballed her suspiciously.

“What? What do you mean?” Confusion settled across her face.

“I know you don’t shy away from work, but you don’t go out of your way to look for it either. What’s in it for you?” I waited to see what her response would be.

“Nothing. I just….the others came over and were bugging me, so I figured I’d come help you. Then you could get done quicker and we could all watch a movie or something,” she answered with total sincerity.

“O.K., I’m not gonna turn down the help. Could you mow the side yard and water the flowers?”

“Yes sir." And with that, she trotted off.

About an hour later, she returned. “All done,” she announced.

“Good, I just need to finish putting these flowers in, then I’m done for the day.” I smiled as I watched her grab a shovel and start putting flowers in the ground.

“Daddy, I have a question,” she stopped and looked at me.

“O.K.,” I waited, wondered what was coming next.

“Can we go somewhere?” was all she said.

“Well, we just got back from vacation. And you know we have other trips planned.”

“No,” she interrupted, “not like that. Like, out to a movie or shopping.”

“We do that stuff all the time, out to dinner, shopping, fairs,” I started.

“That’s not what I mean, not like, all of us. Just you and I. Like a date,” she clarified.

“I mean…Yeah, I guess,” I stumbled out an answer, “any particular reason?”

“I don’t know. I just want some daddy/daughter time, without the others. We always do everything together. And practice dating.”

This stopped me. I know my daughter is more interested in her academics, but she is interested in boys, and she has been on a few dates. So, I was a bit taken aback when she justified her reasons.

“You think you need to practice dating? You’ve been on dates,” I was still catching up.

“The boys at school are so… mid,” she said with a sheepish look.

"Honey, of course. I would love to go on a date with you,” I smiled at her and she beamed back with delight. I thought, if nothing else, it will give a sense of appreciation for all of her help this year.  “You plan it, and I’ll take you on Friday.”

"Yay! Thank you, Daddy. I can’t wait,” she squealed with joy. We finished our task and headed inside for some well-deserved rest from the heat of the day.


On Friday, I dressed in khakis and a polo, left the house, turned and knocked on the door. Gina answered the door in a yellow sundress, “Dad, what are you doing?”

“I’m here to pick you up for our date,” I responded. She just shook her head and laughed. We headed to the car, I opened her door for her, and she climbed in. I sat behind the wheel and asked, “So, what are our plans for the evening?”

“Well, I thought we would start with some dinner, watch a movie, then get some ice cream or something,” she responded with confidence.

“Sounds pretty basic,” I stated, surprised she hadn’t suggested something a little more unique. I accepted her plan and we left. 

Dinner was pleasant, with quiet conversation about nothing in particular. Summer plans, clothes shopping, boys, typical daughter stuff. We talked about which movie to see, she had decided on a horror movie, another surprise for me. We finished our meal and headed to the theater. There were only four other people in the theater besides us, as the movie was nearing the end of its run. We ended up sitting in the middle towards the back, without a bunch of other people; it was quite a good seat. Gina leaned against my shoulder, wrapping her left arm around my right and placing her right hand on my right arm.

She settled in cozily as the movie began to play. Every time the scenes got scary, she would squeeze my arm in hers, sometimes hiding her face. “Are you O.K.? You don’t normally act like this to scary movies,” I looked at her quizzically.

“I’m practicing, remember?” she answered matter-of-factly, resting her hand on my chest.

“Oh, I get it. Playing the damsel,” I teased.

“Exactly,” she retorted with satisfaction, then settled back in. As the movie continued, Gina began rubbing her hand against my chest, then lowered her hand and grasped me gently between my legs. I looked at her in shock, eyes open wide and mouth agape. I attempted to remove her hand move her hand, but she resisted. I began to speak in protest, but she looked at me and whispered, “Practice.” 

I shook my head at her, still trying to move her hand from my member that was already beginning to betray me. “Remember, you said you’d do anything for me, Daddy,” she pleaded quietly. Gina looked at me with pleading and innocent eyes, although what she was doing was anything but innocent. I swallowed hard; a thousand thoughts whirred in my head. What am I doing? What is she doing?  You’re not actually considering this. Where’d my innocent little angel go? Don’t make a scene. What the fuck?  I succumbed. I took my hand off hers and sat there frozen like a statue, trying to at least pretend I was watching the movie, all the while trying to slow the freeway of thoughts speeding through my brain.

Gina slowly stroked up and down the length of my shaft through my pants. My soldier, having turned full traitor on me, stood at full attention as she stroked his ego. My mind struggled to grasp the reality of what was happening, then abandoned the process and just went blank, allowing me to focus on the movie. The throbbing hard-on in my pants and Gina’s hand were having their own conversation as she continued to watch the movie and rub on me absently, or so it seemed, stroking up and down and swirling little circles on the head. This kept him fully aroused for the last thirty minutes of the film.  When she finally stopped, I could feel the dampness in my underwear generated by her teasing and tender touch. Not a climax, mind you, just excitement.


The film ended, and we sat through the credits, even though there was no line to get out. I just needed time for the tent in my pants to subside to a more natural state. We didn’t talk during that time; she just smiled at me. Devilishly? I don’t know. We got up and left the theater; walked around the corner to the small ice cream shop, where we each got a small cone, then walked backed to where we parked. As we ate our dessert, I drove to the lakefront and parked to watch the sunset.

“What the Hell was that?” The question finally erupted from me, covered in shock and coated with confusion.

“Practice,” was all she said with all the smoothness of a greased marble.

“Practice…Practice,” I repeated, my mind spiraling, racing to nowhere.

“It’s O.K.,” she said, putting her hand on my arm. I jumped.

“O.K.?” I think I was nearing hysterics.

“Daddy,” she cooed, scooting closer to me, taking my arm in hers, “I love you. Do you love me?”

“You know I do.”

“Would you do anything for me?” she continued.

“You know I would.”

“Then there’s no problem.”

“Aside from the obvious,” I shot back.

“We are two grown people and you can help me like no one else can. You understand me. You love me. You’d never hurt me.”

With this, she put her hand on my leg; this time, I didn’t jump. I just watched as her hand travelled up my leg to my cock. Damned Traitor. She leaned in close, placing her lips on mine, her tongue piercing my lips and probing around mine. Her body heat radiated against me.

I melted. All my stress, worries, and thoughts slipped out of my body as I accepted her kiss and returned it. She fumbled with my zipper. I looked around frantically. We were alone. I relaxed and gave in to her every whim. She released me from my trousers, a look of marvel and delight upon her face, the setting sun giving it a warm and pink hue. She leaned down, taking me into her mouth, swirling her tongue on my head as she did. She took as much as she could, then retracted, holding me in her hand as she licked and flicked her tongue on my shaft from the base to the head, then took him full into her mouth again. She bobbed there, slowly and deliberately at first, hand and mouth working together. The sensation felt……different.  Hot, a little clumsy, fresh. Forbidden. And yet, the most amazing ever. Her pace quickened, and my balls tightened in response.

“Oh, I’m close,” I warned. She continued her pace a few more strokes until she felt my body tense, then lifted her head and stroked with just her hand. The first explosion shot upward with force and landed on her hand, followed by two more spurts. Gina switched hands and continued, using her mouth and hand together again as my orgasm filled my consciousness with stars, and I felt as though I would black out. When I came back to myself, Gina was sitting, wiping off her hands with a napkin. A very satisfied and triumphant look on her face.  She attempted to wipe me off, but I was way too sensitive for that.

“That was fun. I enjoyed that a lot.” She beamed a grin that could turn night into day. “And I already have plans for our second date.”