Daddy's Poker Game
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Getting Ready for the Game
It was time for my dadâs bi-weekly poker game, and uncle Jimmy and their friends were on their way. The five of them got together every other Sunday evening to play poker, or sometimes other card games. We had a great games room in the basement with an air hockey table and a round table that was perfect for playing card or board games. I hung out there with my friends when they came over, since the soundproofing meant we could crank the tunes without my parents getting mad.
Iâd wanted to join in on the poker games for a while, asking Daddy every so often when I could come. My friends and I tried to learn, but we spent more time laughing and wanting to sing along to songs than actually playing. If I could learn from Daddy, maybe I could teach my friends and we could try to get good at it. Next year, I was supposed to go to college, and I wanted to fit in with that crowd, playing games that were more mature than Go Fish, our usual card game. Every time I asked to join, Daddy said I wasnât old enough.
A few months ago, I turned 18, and Daddy finally asked me to come to the game. I spent the day before reading up on tips on-line, so I wouldnât embarrass myself completely. Hopefully, theyâd take it easy on me, since I was a beginner.
Just before they got here, I was helping Daddy get the room ready, bringing down snacks and drinks. There was a wet bar down there, so we just needed to restock the sodas and some chips and nuts. When we were done, Daddy looked down at me.
âAva, go change into something pretty. Youâre not a little girl anymore.â I looked down at my outfit, frowning. What was he talking about? I had a pair of ripped jeans on, and a pink hoodie with a DJ mouse on it. Okay, maybe he had a point. I wasnât really interested in boys; they all seemed so immature, so I hadnât been dressing to impress. Why should I start now?
I looked up at him, ready to complain. He was so much taller than me that I had to crane my neck. He grabbed my chin, and gave me a stern look.
âDo as I say, baby, go put on a skirt and a nice little top. I donât want to hear any complaints. Now that youâre an adult, you need to learn how to act when youâre with grown men. Be a good girl and do as I ask tonight. Donât embarrass me by being disobedient, or Iâll have to discipline you.â
What did he mean by that? âDaddy, Iâm always good, and what do you mean ânow that Iâm an adult?ââ
âYouâre too old to just focus on yourself. When my friends come over, youâre going to bring us drinks and snacks, and make sure weâre enjoying ourselves. Thatâs what it means to be a hostess. When youâre an adult, and guests come to your home, you need to focus on company, not hide in your room like you did before. Men, in particular, like for a woman to be dressed pretty and take care of them. Tonight is the start of your lessons in being a grown-up. Isnât that what youâve been asking me and your step-mother for? To be treated like an adult?â
He was right, I guess. I didnât want to be treated like a child, but I guess that meant Iâd have to stop acting like one too. It was a sobering realization, and I felt a bit of my innocence slip away.
âOkay, Daddy, but I want to play cards, too, not just act like your waitress all night.â I couldnât help the pout, and Daddy flicked my lower lip as he always did when I pouted.
âYouâll play, donât worry. No more pouting, youâre getting what youâve been asking for tonight, and youâre going to be a good girl to show that youâre old enough to be with us. Right?â
âYes, Daddy.â I did try to be good, but it was hard when Daddy was so bossy. He was never mean, but he had to do most of the parenting since I was little, and took that very seriously. My step-mom, Lara, who married my dad when I was eight, wasnât as bossy, but she didnât really get involved in raising me as much. I knew, from overhearing them, that Daddy had hoped sheâd give him more kids, but they didnât have any luck. She didnât seem too upset about it though, and last week I heard her telling her friend that she never wanted to get pregnant; that having a step-daughter was enough. Mostly, she ignored me, and she spent most of her time with her friends, so I wasnât sure how I was enough. I thought having a baby would be amazing, and I wanted a big family of my own. I knew how lonely it could get as an only child. I wasnât sure why Daddy stayed with her, since she wasnât a great mom or wife.
I went to get changed, putting on a flouncy pale pink skirt that hit mid-thigh, and a black, stretchy button-up shirt. I looked at myself in the mirror, not sure if I liked seeing so much skin. Iâd bought this outfit last month, pressured by my friends at the mall when they were out to buy sexy outfits. It wasnât as racy as what they bought, but it was more revealing than anything I already owned. The top didnât start buttoning until lower than I was comfortable with, just above where my bra would show. I wasnât used to showing off my figure. I didnât have an hourglass figure like some girls at school, and my thighs and hips were a bit wider than I liked, but my bust was a bit more filled out than it had been. Not much, but not flat like it was for most of my teens. I saw pictures of my mom from before she was pregnant with me, and hers were the same size. Once she was pregnant though, and after I was born, they were at least a size bigger. Hopefully, once I was having babies, mine would grow too. I grabbed at my butt and huffed at the size of it. This was why I preferred to cover up. I dug through my closet again, looking for something that fit what Daddy said I had to wear, but was less revealing. Ugh. No luck. I only really wore jeans and leggings, and the only other skirt I had was a maxi that was honestly really frumpy and made me look even wider. I gave up, not bothering to look for anything else. Iâd known Daddyâs friends for years, and I was sure they wouldnât try to stare at me with Daddy and uncle Jimmy right there. I didnât wear socks or shoes since the basement had carpeting, and I went downstairs, excited to learn and spend time with a group of adults for a change, instead of just my friends.
The Game Room
I walked in the room, and everyone was already there. Daddy, and his friends Robbie, Al and Mike were already sitting at the table, and uncle Jimmy, Daddyâs younger brother, was just grabbing a can from the mini-fridge behind the bar. I said hi and looked at the table. There was a seat empty closer to the door, with Daddy right across from it, so I went to pull the seat out for myself. Everyone just stared at me, making me feel uncomfortable. Uncle Jimmy turned around from the fridge and looked me up and down, whistling.
âAva, look at you, youâre all grown up now!â He was grinning like a fool, and it made my cheeks burn. Jimmy looked a lot like Daddy. Tall and handsome, with wavy brown hair and warm hazel eyes. Although they looked alike, I always thought Daddy was the more ruggedly handsome of the two of them.
I sat down, and looked around at the other men at the table while Jimmy sat down, still staring at me with a big smile. The other men here were attractive, too, and Iâd watched them when they came over, admiring their tall, strong builds. They all worked in jobs where they had to be strong, so their arms and chests were thick with muscle. Nothing like the skinny boys who went to my school.
Robbie, a broad chested red-head who worked with Jimmy, was sitting next to me. I noticed he was zeroed in on my chest. He cleared his throat, and said in a hoarse voice, âAva, your daddy told me you turned 18 recently. Did you have a good birthday?â
I crossed my arms over my chest, ...