After we all chilled until my dad came home, everybody left and Tara promised to sneak into my room after I send her a text stating my dad's asleep.
I spent my shower bathing and making sure I was nice and smooth for Tara. While the water ran and I trailed my razor across my skin, I pretended I was filming for a YouTube channel.
"So what's y'all's opinions on shaving?" I asked my invisible audience. "For me, I do it for myself, because better believe, when Gialla Collins decides she wants to rock a coochie 'fro, the bitches still gonna be clawing at her feet for some pretty kitty. Body hair is natural, and patriarchy has taught women to hate their bodies, while men run around like Tarzan with flea infested matted tangles of shit I wouldn't even call hair." I giggled at myself. "Don't forget to hit the like button."
Okay, don't judge. Tara got me feeling all giddy tonight. But on another note, I really should consider making a YouTube. I wonder what people would think of Gialla's World? And what would I even call my subscribers? My G's? Yeahhh, that'd be cute.
I finished and got out, wrapping my towel around my body neatly and brushing my teeth.
Fuck, I'm so nervous.
I had done shit with Tara before, don't get me wrong, we did date for a little bit. But knowing that she would go to the lengths of following me made me even more giddy. If she could devote herself like that, how would she devote herself in the bedroom?
And maybe that makes me a little sick or weird for thinking like that, but it turned me on.
My eyes lit up with an idea.
After I text Tara when my dad's asleep, she told me she'd let me know when she got here. I could undress, pretending like I forgot she was sneaking into the room, and let her take me in.
Fuck, I love an audience when I'm getting naked.
I could feel myself already getting turned on, and my hands slipped down to my pussy, rubbing it softly as I stared at myself in the mirror. I massaged my clit, opening my legs a little wider as I groaned, biting down hard on my lip, and using the other hand to grip the hard counter.
Maybe I'd greet Tara by playing with myself.
My phone dinged from my bedroom, so I stopped, promising my little cat that she'd get played with soon enough. I quickly headed out of the bathroom and ran smack dab into my father.
He looked guilty as hell...and I know I- I know I didn't see this man peeking into my bedroom.
"What the hell?" I yelled.
"I'm sorry. I promised I wouldn't ever do it again, and I," he backed away from me closing his eyes, and trying to zip up his pants.
I turned my head away, immediately disgusted. Why the fuck was his dick out?
"You're nasty as hell, man. Don't tell me you were doing what I think you were," I demanded.
"I'm sorry, Gialla. I know I said I'd stop. I'm sorry," he pleaded.
"What do you mean, you said you'd stop?" I said the hell with turning my head away as he scrambled to put himself up. I focused my eyes on his face as tears ran down his skin. "Have you done this before? To some other girls...or whatever?"
"I- I used to watch you when you were little," he told me in a small voice, sliding to the floor on the other side of the hall, his back to his bedroom door. "And when your mommy was asleep, I'd beat my beat," he sobbed, "while you held your little stuffed unicorn."
"Bullshit," I screamed, my hands balled into fists.
"Then...I started making you watch before bed," he squeezed his eyes shut. "Promising not to tell mommy. You'd let me watch you undress."
"Is that why you and my mother got into it?" I demanded.
"Yes," he whispered. "Because one day she found out. I was glad you didn't remember when you met me at the courthouse...I was glad you didn't remember your daddy that way."
"You're disgusting. How'd anyone let you be my guardian again?" I asked.
"Because your mother never called the cops on me," he gulped.
"So she could call the cops on me, but not you? How pathetic," I scoffed. "No wonder I don't remember..."
I shook my head, looking at him. "You were watching me, weren't you?"
He took awhile to answer, but eventually he nodded his head.
"Well, I hope you had a good show, because it'll be your last, asshole," I marched to the kitchen, dug through the drawers, and got out a knife. I heard my phone buzz again from my bedroom.
My father sat still on the floor, his gleaming eyes tracing the knife in my hands. "Gialla, please."
"I'm your daughter, you sick fuck," I stated.
"I know...and I regret everything," he whispered.
"No wonder you were so distant with me. It was probably the guilt. My mother had to have felt it too. Both of you are disgusting. You did this," I waved my hand at him, the one empty of the knife, "and she did nothing."
"I heard screaming and thought something happened," Tara said out of nowhere, coming from my bedroom, where I had left my window unlocked for her. "What do you wanna do to him?"
My gaze turned on my father. "Kill him."
Tara stepped in between me and him, gently coaxing me to lower the knife. "Um...how about we not do that, okay?"
"Yeah," I took in short inhales of air, "you're right."
"Do something small. And then call the cops. Make it out to be self defense, okay? So that way he can still go down and you can also get your get back," she told me in my ear.
My father stared at both of us in fear.
"Before they arrive, we can work out a believable story, okay?" she added.
"Argh!" I stabbed him in the leg, screaming as I shouted out all sorts of words. All the anger that had entered my body from my childhood seemed to flood right out in that moment.
Tara pulled me back when she thought I had done enough. "They're already on the way, love. They're already on the way," she consoled me.
"I hate you," I screamed, watching him cry in his hands on the floor. "I hate you!" I repeated.
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