Friday evening
Friday, thank god! This week sucked ass, what with you not being able to sleep and all the freaky moments with your daughter. It will be nice to spend a weekend without having to think about work, perhaps you can find some time with your wife during the days and get this burning shame out of your system.
You walk through the door to be greeted with your wife walking out carrying a suitcase. "Ah just in time love. I left dinner in the oven and there are enough things in the freezer that you shouldn't starve till I get back Sunday night. Don't forget that you need to pick up a dress for the Dance tomorrow night. I'll see you in two days." She kisses you and is out the door loading her suitcase into her car and backing out the drive while you're still standing there flat footed and staring.
There goes your chance to spend some time with your wife. Turning you head into the kitchen to see what's in the oven. Meatloaf and mac and cheese, not bad but no vegetables to speak of, you pull open the freezer and have a look inside. Broccoli will work, so you pull that out and start a pot of water on the stove to heat up.
"Daddy?" The bright voice behind you can only be your daughter; you turn to find yourself staring at her. She's wearing another of those skirts that hugs her hips and flares out into a froth of ruffles that just barely hides her panties from sight. She's paired it with a tight fitting shirt that leaves little to the imagination.
Clearing your throat you answer her. "Yes baby?"
"Where's Mommy off to?"
"Oh she had a conference this weekend; she'll be back on Sunday night. It's just you and me till then." God could that have sounded any creepier?
She frowns and you think she's about to tell you how creepy you are when instead she says, "But she was going to help me get ready for the dance tomorrow." Her fingers are tugging and twisting at her hair, it's so cute you can hardly stand it.
You smile at her and wrap an arm around her shoulders. "Well how about I help you find the right dress and all that stuff? You know I'm not so bad at helping pick out just the right one. Mommy often has me help her choose what she's going to wear." Which is true as far as it goes but usually you're picking out sexy little nothing outfits that she'll wear to turn you on not _the perfect dress_for her first dance.
She giggles a little and looks up at you with those innocent eyes. "Alright Daddy, I'll trust you then." She pulls away to start setting the table while you check the broccoli once more.
When dinner is finished and the dishes all piled into the dishwasher she looks expectantly at you. "Can we go see if we can find a dress now Daddy? I want to make sure I have everything all ready for tomorrow."
You expected this, and nod. "Sure Baby lets go hit the shops and see if we can't find something to knock his socks off." At least you assume there is a he in there some place or why would she be going to the dance.
She giggles, bouncing out of the room to collect her purse or jacket or something leaving you to get ready. You meet her at the door a few minutes later, wallet in your pocket keys in your hand ready to go. Glancing up you find yourself staring for a moment. She's put her hair up into twin ponytails to keep it out of the way while she tries on dresses presumably and is now wearing a tight fitting sleeve dress that hugs her budding young curves. Tearing your eyes away you open the door and hold it for her, "My lady." You bow slightly and gesture her through with your free hand.
She giggles again and skips through the door, to the car and gets in while you lock up. In the car you notice that her skirt rides up a fair bit but try to keep your mind off all the bare thigh that's on display as you drive to the local mall. When you park she's out of the car and nearly bouncing toward the big doors before you have the engine turned off.
Laughing you catch up with her in time to open the doors and usher her inside like a princess which only makes her giggle more. There see you can have a normal day out with your daughter and not be a creepy dirty minded old man right? Right!
The ladies in the shop are very helpful, they show you dress after dress that is suitable for a young girl's first dance but none of them please your daughter. She seems disappointed as you leave the first shop, despondently walking along beside you. "Hey now, don't be upset, we'll find just the right one I promise." You tuck your arm around her shoulders trying to cheer her up.
Another store catches her eye and you head into it to look through more racks of dresses, again coming up empty handed. In the third shop you find one that has a tight sparkly bodice and a long fluttery skirt that has her eyes lighting up and a smile on her lips. But when she tries it on she says she looks horrible in it and changes her mind about getting it. It's been over an hour and your feet are starting to get tired but you're determined to make her smile once more.
You catch sight of one of her mother's favorite stores and turn her in that direction with a playful little tug. "Let's try in here." It is cool inside and has low lighting but the staff are cheerful and pleasant as always. You explain the problem to the ladies and they nod in understanding. Moments later you and your daughter are seated in the back of the store with ladies showing you the latest in young teen fashion. Dresses of all descriptions are brought out and discarded, every color of the rainbow, some of them on the same dress, is represented from the palest of pinks to the richness of a midnight sky. Some are fluttery like fairy wings and others drape like the curtains.
All are rejected by your young girl until they bring out the perfect dress. It's got a tight fitting bodice that will display her young curves nicely, spaghetti straps that will let her shoulders show, a slim skirt that hugs tight to her hips and legs and an over skirt that flutters on the wind, all in the most delicate of pinks with small glass beads that sparkle in the lights.
She comes out of the dressing room looking like a real princess in this dream of a dress, making you smile at a job well done.