“That skirt looks great on you,” he said. “It really makes you look cute. It fits you perfectly. Really makes your ... your butt look great.”“Daddy!” I groaned as I kept turning around. My breasts rose and fell as I completed my circle and faced him.“Yes, you are just beautiful,” he said.I felt so daring now for pulling off this outfit. My butt looked cute? That was amazing. What about my breasts? I wanted to ask Daddy that, but it was far too embarrassing. His hand was still on my shoulder, his finger slightly stroking me. This warmth rippled through me.He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek as his hand stroked down my arm. His lips were so warm. I trembled, my heart fluttering faster and faster. This amazing treat surged through me. I wanted to turn my head... Why was I feeling anything like this for my daddy?“Let’s see how beautiful you look in your next outfit,” Daddy said.“That’s so cute that you’re putting on a dress show for your father,” the salesgirl said. She was a few. ”“Same here,” he replied. “It seems odd talking to you as if you’re in the next room, yet so far away.”“You won’t forget me, will you Aidan?” she asked with a touch of desperation, he thought.“No chance of that,” he said. “We’ll keep in touch, won’t we?”“Sure,”“Now go and get some sleep.”“Ok. Love you.”“Love you too.”It felt strange. They were talking as if they were only going to be apart for a short while; that they were still lovers, yet they both knew that there was little chance of them ever meeting again. When they were in the process of parting, she did not invite him to Vancouver, and he did not invite her to return for a holiday. He thought it was because they both knew that meeting again would be too painful and would simply prolong the agony.He shrugged, threw the cold tea away and extracted his (and her) favourite malt. Mindful of work the next day he allowed himself only two drams, and went to bed.The next morning set the pattern for days to come. He awoke and immediately.
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