More Bratty Replies

"James, you don't understand. We weren't going to have sex. Not that it's any of your business, but I am saving myself for marriage. We do... other things instead. It doesn't count." she says, looking ashamed.

"What other things?" I ask. A quick glance around the room reveals some lubrication on the nightstand, a pack of unused condoms, and a pair of black lace panties.

"Dad!" she says in a bratty tone. She lets the sheets fall once more, her large breasts bouncing in her black, lacy bra. I can see her toned stomach as well. I quickly regain eye-contact, as I shouldn't be looking at Sarah like this. She doesn't seem to notice, or care, either way. "I'm not telling you anything!".

"Tell me. I'm worried about you, and I need to know what's happening under my own roof." I pry further.

"No! And you don't own me! You can't just kick me out on the street, and I know you're too scared to do anything, so what I do is my business, not yours. And that 'military school' line is as old as you are!" she's glaring at me, daring me to prove her wrong.