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Daddy's Poker Game

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Getting Ready for the Game

It was time for my dad’s 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.

I’d 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 wasn’t 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 wouldn’t embarrass myself completely. Hopefully, they’d 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.

“Ava, go change into something pretty. You’re not a little girl anymore.” 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 wasn’t really interested in boys; they all seemed so immature, so I hadn’t 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.

“Do as I say, baby, go put on a skirt and a nice little top. I don’t want to hear any complaints. Now that you’re an adult, you need to learn how to act when you’re with grown men. Be a good girl and do as I ask tonight. Don’t embarrass me by being disobedient, or I’ll have to discipline you.”

What did he mean by that? “Daddy, I’m always good, and what do you mean ‘now that I’m an adult?’”

“You’re too old to just focus on yourself. When my friends come over, you’re going to bring us drinks and snacks, and make sure we’re enjoying ourselves. That’s what it means to be a hostess. When you’re 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. Isn’t that what you’ve been asking me and your step-mother for? To be treated like an adult?”

He was right, I guess. I didn’t want to be treated like a child, but I guess that meant I’d have to stop acting like one too. It was a sobering realization, and I felt a bit of my innocence slip away.

“Okay, Daddy, but I want to play cards, too, not just act like your waitress all night.” I couldn’t help the pout, and Daddy flicked my lower lip as he always did when I pouted.

“You’ll play, don’t worry. No more pouting, you’re getting what you’ve been asking for tonight, and you’re going to be a good girl to show that you’re old enough to be with us. Right?”

“Yes, Daddy.” 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, wasn’t as bossy, but she didn’t really get involved in raising me as much. I knew, from overhearing them, that Daddy had hoped she’d give him more kids, but they didn’t have any luck. She didn’t 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 wasn’t 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 wasn’t sure why Daddy stayed with her, since she wasn’t 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. I’d bought this outfit last month, pressured by my friends at the mall when they were out to buy sexy outfits. It wasn’t as racy as what they bought, but it was more revealing than anything I already owned. The top didn’t start buttoning until lower than I was comfortable with, just above where my bra would show. I wasn’t used to showing off my figure. I didn’t 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. I’d known Daddy’s friends for years, and I was sure they wouldn’t try to stare at me with Daddy and uncle Jimmy right there. I didn’t 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, Daddy’s 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.

“Ava, look at you, you’re all grown up now!” 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 I’d 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, “Ava, your daddy told me you turned 18 recently. Did you have a good birthday?”

I crossed my arms over my chest, ...

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