This is an erotic fantasy story. I would never encourage this behavior to happen. I think this may wrap up this series for me. Please let me know in the comments how I did. Good, bad, or indifferent.
I was distraught as I lay in the bed watching my father sleep. I had never seen or heard him act this way before. I get it. We got carried away with each other. We went overboard, but to speak to me this way, his lack of caring about everything brought me to tears. I looked at my phone to see that it was four-thirty AM. I quietly got out of bed, put my sweatpants back on, grabbed my ripped shirt and panties, and grabbed one of my father’s shirts. All I could think on my drive home was, ‘who was that? That wasn’t my dad.’
When I walked through the door, mom was there asking me, “Did you have a good time with your father? I’m glad the two of you got to spend time together.” I did not have the emotional capacity to speak to her. All I wanted to do was get in the shower and clean myself.
After I showered, I went into my room and cried. I wasn’t crying about the sexual acts; I was crying because he lacked understanding of the way he treated me and spoke to me. For the first time in a long time, I needed my mom. I never understood why they had split. Maybe this was the reason. I decided to try and engage her around the reasons they weren’t together. Everyone liked my dad. I had never heard anyone say anything negative about him, including my mother.
I went to the living room and asked my mom, “How come you never talk about why you and dad split?”
Mom had a look of concern on her face, “Why? What happened? Was he drunk asshole to you? I will beat the shit out of him.”
I was taken aback by my mother’s reaction, “Mom, why would you assume that? Is there something you haven’t told me about him?” I was fishing for information without giving her any information. I could tell I brought up a touchy subject, and she wasn’t surprised by my inquiries.
“Monica, can we be honest with each other without you getting defensive about protecting your dad? If you can promise me that, I will explain a few things. OK?”
For the first time, I felt like my mom was going, to be honest, and treat me like an adult. I also wanted to tread lightly with this conversation because I felt humiliated by what happened last night. “I promise I won’t be defensive. I just want to understand dad better. I don’t want you saying anything to dad about this conversation. Are you OK with that?”
Mom looked as she stated, “Yes, Monica. I prefer this conversation to stay between you and me as well. Look…your dad… has a drinking problem. He suffers from being a blackout drunk who doesn’t remember anything the next day. I believe he has learned how to control it around you. I never worried about him drinking around you. But he can be a nasty, unpleasant drunk.”
This made so much sense to me after last night. I never thought his behavior was tied to the amount of alcohol he consumed. I had questions, “What do you mean he has blackouts? How nasty was he to you, mom?” I lacked clarity on what he was really like outside of being my dad.
Mom started to giggle, “Monica, we have hidden a lot from you. Once he starts drinking, he doesn’t stop. Initially, he’s fun to be around. The longer he drinks, the less fun he is to be around. Then when you confront him the next day, he legitimately does not remember anything that happened. It was happening too often and led to our divorce. I told him that I wouldn’t keep you from him unless he promised not to drink around you. He has always fulfilled that promise. I used to be so jealous that he could stop drinking because of his love of you.”
Everything was starting to make sense to me after all these years, and most importantly, last night. I had more questions, “Was he ever physically abusive towards you, mom?” I was praying that the answer was “no” to this question.
Mom then got serious, “Sweetheart, you’re a grown woman, so I am going to be honest. Your dad is a good man. He was never physically abusive, and when I would tell him what he did while he was blacked out, he would break down. I would have to convince him he was a good man. He would say nasty things when he was drinking. He had an aggressive sexual appetite and would not care what I was willing or not willing to do. I’m a much more conservative lover than your father wanted. That’s as far as I’m going to go in explaining that part of our relationship. Luckily, you will never see that part of him. I hope this answers questions you have,”
Everything made sense to me now. “Yes, mom, it does. He was kinda mean to me, and I’ve never seen him like that. Now I know. Thank you for explaining this to me.” I was curious if he even remembered anything that had happened. I couldn’t believe I never knew this about my dad. I felt foolish.
I went to my room and texted my dad, “Hey, dad, I hope your head feels OK from all the drinking you did. I wanted you to know that I couldn’t sleep, so I went home. I didn’t want you to wake up and worry about me.” I wanted to Denizli Escort see what his response would be. I thought if I acted like nothing happened, maybe he wouldn’t remember. I tried waiting for his text but ended up passing out from exhaustion.
The good thing about a pandemic is that no one is rushing to do anything. I woke up around six pm. The first thing I did was check my phone to see a missed text from my dad. “Hi Monica, sorry for not getting back to you sooner. Thanks for letting me know you were OK. I woke up in a panic. I think I overdid the drinking, and I hope I wasn’t an asshole last night.”
I was unsure of what he remembered and what he didn’t remember, so I asked, “What do you remember?” I sat there with my heart in my throat as I watched the bubbles from his typing. I felt like I was having a panic attack.
Finally, “I remember playing cards and joking about you stripping. Everything else is a haze. I know I can be an asshole when I’m drinking, sometimes.”
After everything we did, I didn’t know how to feel about his inability to remember. I don’t know why so I thought I’d have some fun with this. “You were fine. The booze got the best of us. We played strip poker. All I can say is, jeez, dad!” I wanted to see how he would respond to that comment.
Waiting for the text was driving me insane. Finally, “Please tell me you are not serious. I hope we did not do that. Please tell me you are just talking shit?”
I found his response comical after everything that happened last night, along with how he spoke to me. I didn’t respond immediately; I was trying to think through my response. “Well, dad, at least now we both have seen each other nude. I’m pretty sure you were wondering why you woke up with no clothes on.”
I could see his typing; I anticipated his responses to the point of anxiety. “Monica, I am so sorry. I hope I wasn’t more inappropriate than this. I really need to stop drinking. It has always been a problem. To be honest I assumed I woke up nude because I stripped down after you left. I never thought that you would have been there with me nude. Wait, were we both nude?”
I know my dad, and his reaction to all of this was that he had no recollection of what happened. “Yes, dad, we were both naked. I don’t want to make a big deal out of all of this. I love you, and we can forget what we did. OK?”
He did not respond right away. About ten minutes later, “Thank you, Monica! I’m really embarrassed by my behavior. I have been told I get pervy when I’m drunk. I just want to forget this ever happened. I am so embarrassed.”
I could tell the thought of being nude in front of me was humiliating to him. If he knew what we had done and how he behaved towards me. I would be afraid of what he would do. I was humiliated by what we had done. I’m not a prude like my mother, but I never would have done something like this. As weird as it sounds, I felt this made me aware of how much my father were alike. I felt like a trashy whore after everything that happened. I swore it would never happen again, and I felt good knowing I was the only person who knew the truth. I decided to talk shit and end this whole discussion. “It’s OK, dad. Let’s forget it happened. BTW from what I saw, you have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING TO BE EMBARRASSED ABOUT! LOL”
“I have no comeback for that. I’m going to clean up my place and figure out what to do for the rest of the day. Enjoy your day, Monica. I’ll talk to you later.”
Over the next four months, the events of that night consumed my thoughts. I would listen to stories from my mom about my father. She would tell me how when he found out about his behavior, he would deal with it by drinking more. I had concerns he was isolating and drinking himself to death. We would talk on the phone or text, but that was it. He never seemed to be himself. I would ask if he was doing OK, and his responses would always be short. “Yes, Monica, I’m doing fine don’t worry about me.” Always the same response.
One night after a few glasses of wine, I texted my dad. “Hey. What are you doing? Can I come to hang out with my dad? Or are you still sulking about what happened?” I wasn’t drunk, but I was feeling the effects of the wine. My dad didn’t respond until I sent him a second text an hour later. “If you don’t answer me, I am going to come there to make sure you are OK. Please respond, so I know you are OK.” It was only nine at night, so there is no reason he shouldn’t have responded.
“Hey, Monica. I saw your texts. I’ve been drinking and didn’t want you to see me like this. Thank you for checking in. I’m fine.”
This pandemic was driving me crazy; I wanted my life back. I was tired of being lonely. Tired of not having anything to do, and I missed my dad. I was gaining weight from sitting around and eating. My self-esteem was at an all-time low; I felt unattractive and miserable. I just wanted someone to pay attention to me and feel like my old self again. I missed men ogling at me on a daily basis. Dad always made me feel important. He always doted on me. I don’t know if it Denizli Escort Bayan was the lightheaded buzz I had from the wine, but I decided that I was going to see my dad. I didn’t care if he wanted me to or not. I didn’t care if he was drunk. I felt confident that what had happened wouldn’t happen again. “Look, dad, I’m coming over, so get in the shower and sober up. I’m stopping at the store and getting you some beer. Do you need anything else!?”
“You are being pushy today. OK, I’ll jump in the shower. Yes, grab me a bottle of jack. Are you going to be drinking too?”
Yes, I was being pushy. I was frustrated about everything and couldn’t take it anymore. “Yes. I’ll be drinking. We have nothing else to do. Is that OK with you?”
“Sure, why not. No poker tonight. Looking forward to seeing you.”
I got dressed, putting on a pair of gym shorts over my thong panties with a tank top. I missed getting dressed up on a nightly basis. I looked in the mirror, noticing that my ass actually hung out of my shorts. ‘Fuck-it’, I thought as I jumped in my car and headed to the liquor store. I went overboard with the booze. I got two cases of beer, two bottles of Jack Daniels, and two bottles of wine. I had had enough of all the bullshit. Tonight, I understood why my dad drank the way he did. As I walked into my dad’s apartment, I was shocked at how tidy it was. I looked around to see how much he had been drinking when I noticed his laptop open with a paused porn video. I immediately closed the laptop. I guessed this was why he ignored my texts. I opened a bottle of wine and started guzzling it down. Dad was still in the shower, so I wanted to get a head start without him watching me.
As he came out of the bathroom, I told him, “I turned the TV on and moved the laptop. I hope that’s OK?” Then I started laughing. I was trying to feel him out to see what kind of mood he was in.
“You should be careful being a smartass tonight. You never know what people are capable of when they can’t do anything except sit in the fucking house every day. This shit is getting old quickly. You look good. Gain a few pounds?”
His tone was the same as it was; the last time I was here. I could tell he probably had been drinking all day. He was wearing a pair of mesh shorts that didn’t leave anything to the imagination. I was a little upset about the weight comment. Like the rest of the world, I had gained some weight. I thought the weight was proportioned well all in my hips, legs, and ass. “Yeah, I did. Glad you noticed, smart ass. What do you want to do?”
His response was short and direct, “I don’t care. Drink and watch TV? Does that work for you? If not, you could always give me a lap dance.” Then he laughed.
“I’m sure you’d love a lap dance, but that shit isn’t happening. Stop trying to see me naked; fucking perv. I paid my debt to you on the stripping front. That will never happen again. Plus, why would you want a lap dance from me? You just got done saying I gained weight.” I wanted to make sure he knew there would be no dancing, no stripping, ever again.
“Never say never, Monica. I’ll remind you that you said that when you strip for me again. Your weight went to your ass. That’s a good thing. Oh, and by the way. Does the lap dance count if I don’t remember it?”
I changed the subject quickly, “TV sounds like fun, dad. I poured myself some wine while you were in the shower.” Then I sat on his bed with a bottle of wine as I flung the remote toward him. “You find something to watch. I’m going to relax.”
Dad sat at the top of the bed, stretching his legs out horizontally on the bed. I sat against the wall with my legs going across the bed. At this angle, I could see right up my father’s shorts. His flaccid penis looked as intimidating as it did four months ago. I was curious if he was aware or if this was by design. He brought a whole bottle of Jack Daniels into the bed with him and was guzzling whiskey every few minutes. I wanted information from him and thought this would be the best time to inquire.
“Dad, why did you and mom split?”
Dad gave me a look of disdain, “We could never match up intimately. She had her likes. I had mine. Why are you asking about this after all this time? I thought we were going to have a nice night together?”
He was right. I had never asked before. I had all this new information about him now. I was also hoping to get closure on what had happened between us. “Well, since this pandemic started, I’ve been in lockdown with mom. She talks to me like I’m a woman, not a child. She told me there were intimacy issues, but she has a much more different take on it. Plus, I saw a side of you that I didn’t know existed the last time we were together.”
Dad got agitated, “What did your mother say about me? What exactly happened the last time you were here?”
I could tell I stuck a nerve with these topics. “Mom said that when you were drinking, you would get rambunctious in bed. Your expectations changed, and you were very demanding. Almost scary.”
“I can tell you are taking Escort Denizli being a psychology major seriously. Just so you know, I don’t like being in the shrink’s chair.” Then he laughed hysterically. “Well, your mother wasn’t very exciting in bed. We shouldn’t be talking about this, but ask whatever you want. I will answer honestly. I’ll be your practice patient.”
I laughed at his comments, “To be honest, dad, I have questions about you. I thought I knew everything about you. Then that night, and from what mom has told me, I realized I didn’t know you as well as I thought I did. I can’t believe you don’t remember anything from that night.” I was getting nervous talking with him about what happened; I started downing wine. The effect I wanted wasn’t happening fast enough, so I told him, “Give me the Jack. I want some.”
“Listen, you are going to have to tell me what happened that night. Honestly, you probably will have to tell me when I’m not drinking because I won’t remember tomorrow either. I’m guessing your mother told you I blackout when I drink heavily. Whatever I did, whatever happened, I’m sorry. Drinking Jack is not going to help you with whatever is going on, trust me.”
The wine and Jack hit me suddenly. I felt woozy and extremely hot. “Dad, I can’t believe you don’t remember what you did to me the last time I was here. You…” I stopped. I couldn’t say it. I wanted to compose myself, “you said some nasty things to me.” There was truth to this statement. I just didn’t say everything.
“Like what?” he asked.
“You told me to make sure I took the morning-after pill.” I watched his face as he was comprehending what that meant. The look of confusion had a hint of fear in it. He did not say anything, so I broke the silence. “Are you going to say nothing?” The alcohol had a hold of me now. I was feeling confident and unafraid.
“Are you saying, we had sex?”
“YES! WE DID!” I was emphatic with my response. “I told you I couldn’t handle the monster you have in your pants. You went in me anyway. That’s why I have not come back since that night. I’ve tried to block it out of my mind. I should not have stripped for you, but you should not have fucked me either. Then you didn’t even remember. Do you know how insulting that is? I gave you all of that, and you don’t even FUCKING REMEMBER!? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, DAD?” I had not realized until that moment that I was confused. Was I upset because it happened or because it meant nothing to him? My mind was racing now. Did I want it to happen?
“Monica, I’m sorry that happened. I’m sorry, I don’t remember. I’m confused about what you are upset about. Is it because we had sex or because I don’t remember? I wish I could remember.”
I didn’t know how to answer his question. I wasn’t sure which one it was that upset me. Was I just too drunk to think properly? I changed the subject, “Is that how you are with women when you drink? Take what you want. No regard for anyone except your dick?”
“I’ll be honest with you. When I’m drunk, I am completely honest. I think I’m like every other guy when they drink. Horny first and deal with the consequences later. I understand you are mad; I just want to know which part you are mad about. The fact that we fucked, or I don’t remember fucking you.” I could tell he was drunk; this is who he was the last time, clear, direct, and unapologetic.
“What difference does it make, dad? You act like it was OK that we fucked. IT WAS NOT OK! IT FUCKING HURT! YOU WERE TOO BIG FOR ME!” Dad looked at me with a smirk on his face. It was like I couldn’t control my emotions. I started giggling, “What’s so funny, smartass? Got something to say?”
“Yes, I do. Watching you get all feisty makes me wish I could recollect what happened. I bet you were great in bed. I think your mad because I don’t remember fucking you. I think the thought of being taken advantage of turned you on.” Dad then got up and went to the bathroom.
I yelled as he walked away, “IT’LL NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN! SMARTASS!”
He casually said, “It will if I want it to.”
I was left sitting there more confused than when I showed up. Dad was extremely confident about everything. If he wasn’t my father, I would find that an endearing quality for a man. I asked myself, “did it turn me on knowing I was being taken advantage of? Was he serious about it happening again? He wouldn’t, right?” I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for dad to come out so I could use the bathroom. My legs were unsteady.
Dad walked by me, asking, “Are you OK? You look like you’re having a hard time handling your alcohol.” Then he laughed and told me, “I’m putting everything in the fridge and turning the TV off. It’s getting late, and I’m tired. You are staying because you can’t drive.”
I declared, “OK, dad sounds good. I’m going to use the bathroom.” I tried steadying myself. I could barely walk from being so drunk. Fortunately, my dad’s apartment was cramped. I walked along the wall, hoping not to fall. When I came out of the bathroom, it was pitch dark in the apartment. Dad had turned everything off. I couldn’t see anything as I tripped on something, going down to my knees. I yelled out while giggling, “DAD! I THINK I NEED SOME HELP!” I was unable to stand up, and even if I were capable, I was too intoxicated, and it was too dark for me to navigate through his apartment.