T Is for Teresa

When I stood up at the end of the meal, I smiled as I looked down yet again at the lump in his trousers. It gave me an immense amount of girly satisfaction to know that I had caused that. I took the plates out into the kitchen and returned with a large brandy for him. At first he refused, saying that he still had to drive home.

"Daddy, please, we've finished a whole bottle of wine between us. You're already over the limit, maybe you should phone Mum up to tell her that you'll be spending one more night here."

I walked across the room towards the staircase.

"Give Mum a ring now, Dad. I just want to show you something special tonight."

And with that I disappeared upstairs. I just heard him call out something like 'Maybe I could call a taxi' but I wasn't sure he was going to at that moment. I was so sure I'd tempted him in some way, he wanted to see what I'd meant by 'something special.'

About five minutes later I descended the stairs, appreciating in a typically tranny fashion the distinctive sound of my high heels on the stairs. I walked into the lounge and smiled at Dad.

"What do you think?" I asked.

He nearly choked on his brandy. He stared again at me, his 'daughter' standing not three feet in front of him. He looked down first, at her sexy black, high heeled stilettos, but as his eyes rose up her long, silky legs, he got to the top of her thighs before he saw the hem of her ultra-short, sheer, black baby-doll night-dress held up by two thin straps. Her long red hair now fell in thick wavy curls around her shoulders, and he must have noticed that she had touched up her make-up, adding more lip-gloss.

"Teresa, you look stunning. But do you think it's appropriate?"

"It wouldn't be if you were my father tonight," I began, with the hint of a smile playing on my lips and a smouldering look in my carefully made-up brown eyes. "But we've already agreed that tonight you are my boyfriend, so it's not inappropriate at all."