Butterfingers

I sit there watching my father eat the meal I had so painstakingly prepared for him. He obviously liked it and that made me feel good. While things were far from normal the tension had palpably eased between us. I did wish we could talk about it but I knew in the end that would simply upset him. Besides, what could I really say for myself? I could only say sorry so many times.

Dad glances over at me. He pauses a moment as he looks at me closely then returns his attention to his plate. He says what any father might. “You should eat. Not good to skip breakfast.”

“I'm okay.” I assure him.

“So, what are you up to today?” He asks as casually as he could manage.

“I don't know yet. I have to go out for a bit.” I skip the part about it being a trip to the clinic. “Then I'm not sure. Probably just bum around the house or something.”

He clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably. “Not going out with Josh?”

I don't mean to but I let out an exasperated breath. “Pahh. Uhh, no. He and I are done Daddy.”

This surprises him. “Oh?”

“I...” I sigh. “He's a foolish boy. The whole reason I was...um...well...sleeping where I was...uhhh... I was lonely and...I wanted to be somewhere...nice.”

“Hm.” Dad hums. He eats another couple pieces of melon before saying. “Good. Never liked him much. He's a punk. He wasn't good enough for you Kitten. You deserve better than him.”

I smile. Now I KNEW I made the right choice. If Daddy didn't like him he was no good. My Daddy was a good judge of character. My Daddy was the smartest man I knew. I loved my Daddy and I knew he looked out for me. Nearly dancing on air I grab his empty coffee mug and go to get him another sweet creamy coffee. I pour the coffee and stir in the cream and sugar.

I pause. I remember the first coffee I prepared for him. I remember looking back and as his eyes flitted away from me. I'd convinced myself he wasn't checking me out but...but... Some irrepressibly impish part of me allows the spoon to slip from my fingers and drop with cling clang cling on the tile floor at my bare feet. I take a fortifying breath...then bend over at my waist to pick it up. I don't bend at the knees at all, choosing to fold straight forward with my ass pointed directly at my father. I feel the hem of my nightie run up my butt as I bend. I knew my pussy would juuuust be peeking out now. I pause longer than I needed to, take the spoon in my fingers, then slowly straighten back up again.

I turn back to Daddy and giggle. “He he he. Oops, butterfingers.”

Dad's focus was on his plate as he finished up the last bit of the breakfast I'd made him but he had a subtle pink blush coloring his cheeks above his beard. He'd seen it alright. He saw my bare pussy. The thought excited me. There is a long moment of silence, a VERY long moment of silence as he seemed to gather his thoughts, before he finally says. “Fawn.”

“Yes Daddy?”

“Fawn...”

“Mmm?” I smile brightly and nervously nibble my bottom lip.

“I...uh...” The seconds tick by like minutes in the suddenly electric atmosphere. “I...” I wait for what seems like an eternity. He suddenly straightens up in his seat. “I don't care for belly button piercings. They're tacky.”

“Oh...okay.” I reply with a bit of confusion. What an odd thing to say.

His next words send me for a loop. “Your mother's perfume...is nice. I like it. It's my favorite. Smells nice on a woman.”

My breath catches in my chest and my eyes widen as his words hang in the air. My heart is pounding in my ears. What was that supposed to mean!?

“Ahem.” He clears his throat. “I...I should go. A lot to do today. I probably won't be home until late.” His blue eyes glance up at me and hold me in place for a long five count. He then smiles like everything was perfectly normal and stands up with a stretch of his back. His hulking muscular body fills his shirt magnificently as he stretches and flexes. “Could be very late actually. It'll probably be after dark. Don't wait up for me.” He looks me square in the eyes with an intensity I'd never seen before. “Love you Kitten. Hope you have good day.”

And with that he turns and exits the room.

I stand there stunned, the stirring spoon still held loosely in my hand, as I hear the front door close followed closely by the sharp snarl of his Porsche Boxster coming to life. It is just another moment after that I hear the engine get put into gear and the car roars out the driveway far faster than usual.

Without realizing it I'd been holding my breath this whole time. I let out a gasp and the spoon once more slips from my fingers and lands with a cling clang cling on the tile floor at my bare feet.