GITJ Post 437: GRWM Tia

I don’t like the way you’ve been looking at her recently.

Those words, words of his wife, snaked into his head once again, judging him, making him feel small and filthy. They'd been echoing in his head since that late September weekend, and they did so again as he sat here in the early evening,  by himself, in his living room. That weekend the family had been at their neighbors’ pool, he could remember it so clearly - the two families, boys playing video games inside, the girls bathing in the last sun of the season. Bikinis, it was hard to keep his eyes where they should be: anywhere but on Tia and the shocking way she filled her swimsuit, the way she had grown. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and his wife had noticed. She scolded him when they returned home that afternoon:

She’s your daughter. 

Fuck, I know, he now scolded himself, reflecting as he sat on the couch on this mid-November eve, Tia’s become a…a…fuck. Face it. She’s a fucking wet dream. Back in September, in her bikini, she was strikingly voluptuous and, if anything, his daughter had grown since that day at the pool. In less than two months she’d gotten taller by inches and bustier in spades - making his struggles only harder. His daughter was busy upstairs readying herself for some party, and with her mother - his wife - out for the evening, Tia had promised him a fashion show, a look at the  dress she’d be wearing.

But first she’d been sending him pictures. They were coming through on his phone.

He cursed himself at how his heart fluttered…

…

Omigod Omigod Omigod I love it. 

Tia McMahon could not believe that the girl in the mirror was her. This dress…this dress that Ms. Samuelson from Far Horizons let her borrow fit perfect. Better than perfect, it transformed her. Squeezed into it like a glove, Tia felt now a little less like a teen that would have to fake her way awkwardly through an evening among adults at this event she’d been invited to tonight. She didn’t feel like a little girl anymore, and she certainly didn’t look like one. She looked, and felt, like a woman. 

Jesus my boobs are huge. He’s gonna melt.

She knew he was downstairs, she knew he’d gotten her text - silly man hadn’t known to turn off his read receipts. He hadn’t responded, though, and in a naughty moment she couldn’t help but picture him on the couch doing the same thing to her picture that she knew he did to pictures of other women late at night, or to that interview of Melissa Monroe he’d recorded off the news. 

She loved how it made her heart flutter. She loved thinking that her dad found her hot. She loved picturing him getting - omigod - hard in his sweatpants for her, down there in the living room. Just like all the boys in Ms. Fielding’s APUSH class, she knew she could make him squirm for her. Dad’s already a simp for mom, she thought, and I outgrew her last week. 

He still hadn’t written her back. 

Maybe his hands are busy haha. 

…..

Jesus Christ. 

He’d heard his daughter stepping down the stairs. He tried, suddenly, to look casual. He arranged the thin throw blanket strategically over his lap, and readied himself as much as he could. Nonetheless, he was pitifully unprepared for the tall, blonde young woman that stepped into the living room, between him and the tv. Had he been smart he would have stayed speechless as she stood there, posing her perfect body for him in the revealing dress she’d be wearing out tonight. waiting for his reaction. He, however, was not a smart man, and uttered the one word which told her everything she wanted to know:

“Wow…”

His heart fluttered again when he saw how Tia smiled. Her mother - his wife - remained far away. There were no other eyes in the house to judge them, both knew that. No one there to catch him ogling his own daughter, no one there to tell her that she needed to cover up. He screamed at his eyes to tear themselves off of Tia’s big chest, or away from the swell of broadened hip that announced itself out of the high slit of her dress, but they ignored him. Tia, for her part, seemed happy to just stand there and let him stareing, watch his best efforts as his jaw hung gaping. 

“You like it?” she asked, doing a slow, half-spin to show him how her dress hugged her pert rear. 

Jeremy McMahon’s eyes goggled. A swimmer, Tia had always been fitter in the upper body than most, but her legs and hips were now becoming quite remarkable as well. He’d snapped pictures of her in her running shorts, weeks ago, and knew he should've deleted them from his phone. If Eva ever saw them she’d have questions. Now, though, that ass was right in front of him and he-

“Hm?” she followed, wrenching him from his reverie. Looking over her shoulder, and down at him,  she saw him nod, and she turned back towards him. 

He gazed up at her, and knew he should say something, but he just couldn’t. 

Emboldened by her father’s paralysis, Tia’s smile widened. In a bold move she’d seen others do - she slowly leaned forward, at the hip, bringing her hands to her knees and using her elbows to squash together her big, big breasts. She almost giggled when her father’s eyes fell helplessly down to her cleavage. Since joining Ms. Fielding’s class, she’d been learning a lot of things, including that her breasts could be weapons. 

“C’mon, Daddy,” she purred, “tell me I’m pretty.”

Jeremy McMahon, if anything, froze harder.

Tia used the moment to lean in further so she could give him a peck on the forehead. Seemingly innocent, she knew the kiss brought her breasts right in front of his face.

Still the poor man said nothing. Tia lingered there for a long moment, letting him drink in the sight of her chest as she waited for his response. Something to think about after I leave. Mom’s out of the house. You can do whatever you want.

“Y-you look beautiful, Tia,” he finally said, right into her E-cups. 

Heart rushing, beginning to stand, she giggled and smiled at the glossy lipstick mark left behind on his forehead, a lurid print of her lips. Will Mom see that? she wondered, in a moment of willful vanity. I hope so. 

 He’d raised his eyes to meet hers. His own heart had nearly stopped. 

“Thanks, Daddy,” she said, smiling down at him, “I’ll be home by eleven...”

...wait up for me. 

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thank you thank you to ItsThePitts for the Tia character, and to RiF for editing,