My Daughter, the Gymnast

Mum doesn't work, and she will look after the baby when I'm at work, and Paul is at Uni. The rest of the time, either Paul or I will be home."

"If only life worked out so simply, my girl," Pat growled.

But it did. It worked out exactly like that. Molly had our first baby a week after Uni had finished for the year. She worked up to the night before she had Patrick. She said goodbye to everyone when she finished her shift at the supermarket that night.

"Where are you going?" They asked.

"I'm having my first baby tomorrow," she answered, her belly huge with child.

They all laughed, and the older women told her that it didn't work like that, but it did. Patrick was born at 10.57 am the following day.

Everyone, except Molly, called Patrick PJ, of course. He wasn't really, I guess, as Patrick was his grandfather, but it seemed to fit as we all lived together those first three years.

Our second, Thomas (Tommy), was born almost exactly a year after Patrick. I suspected Molly was holding on to have him on the same day, but she fell a day short.

Robert, or Robbie, as everyone called him, came 14 months later.

By then, I had finished my degree. As Molly had decided, we moved to Augathella, where I took up a teaching position. A schoolhouse was part of the deal, so Molly, the boys and I, finally had a place of our own.

Pat and Val took the drive out to see us as often as they could, and we'd head back to theirs during the school holidays.

Molly and I were trying for a fourth child but hadn't had any luck yet. It took almost two years before Molly triumphantly announced she was pregnant again. An ultrasound at 21 weeks confirmed our fourth child would be a girl.

Unfortunately, the ultrasound detected an abnormal growth in Molly's right kidney. More tests were run, confirming the growth was malignant and extremely virulent. It had already spread through Molly's liver and had started into her left lung.

The only way to save Molly was to terminate the pregnancy and for her to undergo intensive chemotherapy.

Molly would never kill her child. I was torn. Like Molly, I couldn't even contemplate aborting our child, but I couldn't stand the thought of losing her, either.

"If you don't abort now and start immediate treatment, you're going to lose the child anyway," the specialist told us. "Unfortunately, with how quickly this cancer is spreading, without chemo, your chances of surviving to give birth are virtually nil."

"You obviously don't know me," Molly informed him fiercely. "There will be no abortion, and I will live to see my daughter born and be damned to you all.

Molly stood up and grabbed my hand, "Come on, Paul, we're out of here. This jackass knows nothing!"

She dragged me out of the seat and down to our car.

"There will be no abortion, Paul," she reiterated. "I will live to see our daughter born and go to my rest. You're not to grieve because I promise we will be together again. Now tell me you believe me!"

As I observed early in this piece, Molly is impossible to refuse. With my voice and heart breaking, I nodded my head and said, "I believe you, my love."

"I still like that, you know? My love, it makes me feel like I'm your whole world."

"You are," I replied.

Molly had our daughter in the late afternoon sun on a Friday. The nurse cleaned the baby up and placed her on Molly's chest.

Molly was on oxygen and sedated, the maximum the anaesthetist dared to give her without endangering our child. She looked at her daughter, smiled, and then said, "I want you to call her Molly after me. Promise me you will look after each other forever, Paul. Promise me that, now."

"Of course, I will, my love," I told her, my heart shattering to pieces in front of her.

Molly passed.

My wife did everything in a hurry. Born early, lived hard, had children early, and died early. Way before what should have been her time.

I took the boys, and Molly (MJ), back to Pat and Val's. The three brothers had all moved out, so we were able to move into their old rooms.

Mum had shown no interest in meeting any of her grandchildren, so, for my own peace of mind, I had let her die in my mind too.

I held it together, not because I wanted to or even thought I could, but because my children needed me to. Our eldest wasn't even six yet. I mostly held it together because I knew Molly wanted me to.

Many a night, I repeated in my mind what she said to me before dying, "You're not to grieve. I promise that we will be together again."

It helped, somehow.

It's always seemed weird to me how genetics work. The three boys all grew to be tall like me. None of them quite reached the 6 ft. 4 in. (193 cm) that I am, but they're all well over 6 feet tall. Molly and my eldest two are both slim. The youngest, Robbie, will probably run to fat like I would have if I didn't keep my exercise levels high and my diet strict.

MJ was like her mum, tiny. MJ had her mum's flashing green eyes and dark brown hair. The same even white teeth under full lips and the same impish smile.

Unfortunately, she had the same tendency to stare at me as well. The intensity of her gaze was a little scary at times.

On MJ's fifth birthday, she asked if I could enrol her into a gymnastics course. The Olympics had been on the previous year, and MJ had sat glued to the TV throughout the gymnastic events.

I was able to find her a club, and it was no effort to get her there. MJ was always ready and waiting with all of her gear well before it was time to go to the club.

MJ got to be pretty good. She was a non-travelling reserve for the Australian gymnastics team for the 2018 Commonwealth games and the 2020 Tokyo Olympics (held in 2021, as you know).

She was only 14 in 2018, but even so, missing her home Commonwealth games by such a small margin must've hurt. MJ took it all in her stride, though.

"Gymnastics is just something to do as I wait for the time to be right," MJ informed me when I asked how she felt about missing out.

Now, where had I heard that before? I gave a shiver as if a goose had walked over my grave.

My late wife felt very close just then.

My teaching career had gone well, and the rest of my life was good. The boys had all grown up to be good kids and great young men. PJ and Thomas had both completed apprenticeships. PJ did his with the same Council his grandfather worked for. Pat had managed to get him in there to do an electrical apprenticeship. Tommy wanted to be a plumber, so that's what he did. Pat put a word in for him, and Tommy was taken in as one of QBuild's apprentices.

Robbie was a brain box, so he was currently attending Melbourne University, journeying through a degree that would eventually see him graduate as a Doctor of Medicine.

I was offered the Principal's job back at my first teaching school in Augathella. Initially, I was going to refuse because MJ was about to start grade 12. Probably the most important year of her school career.

MJ told me, "Don't be silly, dad. You always said you were going back there because you loved it so much. What better time than now?"

"Any time after you've graduated would be a better time, Miss," I growled at her.

"I don't want to go on to Uni, dad," MJ informed me. "I want to settle down with a nice boy and have his children. Augathella is a great place to raise kids, as you well know, so why not there?"

"What about your gymnastics? You won't be able to do what you need to do to make the 2024 Olympic team from there."

"Gymnastics was just to fill in the time, dad. The time is almost filled in. I don't need it anymore."

I knew, by now, that arguing with MJ was as futile as arguing with Molly and that MJ was just as difficult to refuse.

I gave an exasperated sigh.

"It's settled then," MJ told me. "You'll take the job, we'll move back to Augathella, and I'll finish high school then find myself a good husband. I want the same as mum had, the same as her mum had. Three boys, then a girl."

Tossing my hands in the air, I opened my emails and sent a confirmation request saying I could start in the new term, about four weeks from now and about a week after Molly's eighteenth birthday.

There was one part of my life that hadn't gone well.

I had never found another woman I felt I could love. I indulged in a bit of casual sex, but it seemed so hollow that I didn't bother very often. There were women who, it seemed, set their cap for me, but as soon as they realised I had four young kids to raise and not much money, interest dropped away quickly.

If I'm being honest, the problem was this: They weren't Molly.

MJ and I packed our meagre belongings, stacked them into a rented trailer, and drove the 8 hours to Augathella.

As the principal, I got a larger, better equipped home than I got as the teacher but I was happy to swap houses with Alex, one of the four other teachers at the high school. Alex was in the house I had when I was first there. A modest three-bedroom affair with only one toilet and bathroom.

Alex and his wife had four kids. The principal's residence has four bedrooms plus an en suite in the main bedroom, so the swap made sense given only MJ and I were there.

This simple act alone garnered me the approbation and support of the teaching staff.

Molly Junior had celebrated her 'coming of age' eighteenth birthday in Brisbane modestly. She invited a few of her closest friends back to Pat and Val's place for a BBQ and a few drinks.

It was a surprisingly quiet affair. There were only six people, plus MJ, Pat, Val, two of her brothers (Robbie couldn't make the trip) and me. Only two of MJ's guests were boys. Boyfriends of her friends.

MJ had never had a boyfriend, as far as I knew. At least, if she had one, she never brought him home or even mentioned his name.

"That girl is waiting for something," Val muttered, watching the seven kids laugh and dance together.

Without thinking, I replied, "Tonight, her eighteenth birthday, I'd guess. I wonder who the lucky guy is."

Pat just about choked on his beer.

"You think you're going to have the same conversation with a boy as you and I had tomorrow morning?" He managed.

"No, well maybe, but not tomorrow. Neither of these guys is strong enough to attract MJ's interest."

"It will be nice to have babies and the pitter-patter of young feet around the house again," Val mused.

It was my turn to choke on my beer.

Once MJ and I were settled into our lives at Augathella, MJ's behaviour changed.

If I didn't know better, I'd say that my daughter began to flirt with me. I'd come home from school to find her in a very short skirt or dress with her knicker-covered hairy snatch on display, with a foot up on the bench, chair, or couch she was sitting on.

I pretended that I hadn't noticed, of course. Fathers don't have those thoughts or visions about their daughters. That is just wrong.

But there were other things. MJ would come up behind me when I was at my home office desk marking papers and put her arms around me. Nothing unusual there, but she would be braless, and I'd swear that her nipples were erect and that she had purposefully dragged them across the back of my neck before she kissed the top of my head lightly and said something like, "Hello, daddy, what's for dinner?"

Other times, MJ would come out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel. The towel would be tied over her breasts and barely cover her pussy. Almost always, at these times, MJ would drop her hairbrush, or something else, behind herself, and she would turn, bend over, and with straight legs, pick it up. Her ass and trimmed but furry pussy would be peering back at me.

Or, I would be sitting on the couch watching TV when MJ would sit on my lap, put her arms around my neck, and then wriggle her ass on my groin, 'trying to get comfortable'.

MJ would kiss me on my lips softly, sigh, and say, "I love you, daddy. I love you forever and ever. You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, MJ," I'd reply, doing my best not to get an erection.

I failed abysmally most times.

MJ couldn't have helped but notice my growing dick under her perineum, but she never said anything if she did. She would simply wriggle her ass again and sigh contentedly.

Things continued like this for another three months, and it all became a bit of torture. With MJ's flirting, or so it seemed, and her 'accidental' showing off her snatch and small tight ass two or three times every night, I was in a state of constantly denied sexual arousal.

Feelings and desires that had been long suppressed came roaring back to life, and I began having entirely inappropriate dreams about my daughter. Dreams of waking up to find MJ on top of me and guiding my rampantly stiff dick into her hot and wet snatch.

In these dreams of the night Molly and I had taken each other's virginity, MJ's face and her mother's would switch and swap back and forth until they became one in my mind. In these dreams, I always came, and I'd wake the next morning feeling less 'tense' but as guilty as hell.

One afternoon after school, MJ, for some reason, decided to show me through some of her routines. She came into the lounge wearing nothing but her leotard and started to warm up.

MJ had the same tiny breasts, barely a 'B' cup, as her mother and had the same big nipples.

It was either a little cold in that room, or MJ was sexually excited because her nipples looked hard enough to take out an unwary eye.

Facing away from me, MJ went through a series of exercises designed to warm and stretch her muscles. With legs straight, she bent over and touched her toes, then took the back of her calves in each hand and moulded her body down along her thighs.

With a cheeky smile, MJ opened her legs a little so she could pop her head through and give me a wink.

Bent over so far and stretched so much, her leotard had 'wedgied' between her butt cheeks. I was treated to the incredible sight of my daughter's shaved perineum and taut ass cheeks gazing at me above her smiling face.

I didn't dare move in case my extreme erection became obvious.

MJ straightened and turned to me. Staring into my eyes, she turned her right knee out and lifted it until it pointed straight up at the sky, well, the lounge's ceiling, with her toes extended and stretched as far as possible.

If you've seen a girl doing the splits, it was exactly like that, except MJ was balanced on one foot and not on the ground.

MJ did a slow pirouette. With my mouth dry, I watched MJ's barely covered pussy slowly rotate into view.

Putting that foot on the ground, MJ repeated the move on her other foot.

It was too much to handle. I got up quickly and ran down to my bedroom. I got there just in time to grab a couple of tissues and get them over the head of my cock as I came copiously to the vision of my daughter's barely covered pussy.

I sat there on the bed, ashamed, for a very long time. It was the first time, ever, I was glad my late wife wasn't still with us. I'm certain Molly would have been as disgusted with me as I was with myself.

'What kind of pervert has orgasms over his own daughter?' I asked myself.

Night had come, and I was still sitting on my bed staring into the abyss when MJ knocked on my door.

Making sure the soiled tissues were well hidden, I said, "Come in."

"I made some dinner, dad," MJ said. "I did old English sausages, chips and eggs, your favourite."

She gave me a tremulous smile as if she was the one who had something to be ashamed of.

Checking I had done my trousers back up, I stood and then replied, "Sounds good, MJ. Have you finished your training for tonight?"

"There were some other things I'd like to have shown you, but maybe I can save those for another night."

I could have sworn her smile was a 'knowing one', as if she knew I had orgasmed to her display. But I quickly put that thought out of my head.

The following weekend to this was Val's 70^th birthday. Everybody was going to be there. The brothers would all be there. Fred was bringing his wife and three almost adult children. James, now called Jamie because his fiancé insisted, was coming along with her. His two kids from his first marriage were coming with him. Matt, who was still living the life of the carefree bachelor, even though he was as old as me and should have known better, would be there.

Robbie was flying up from Melbourne, and my other two boys would be there. It was late summer, so we were all going to stay at Pat and Val's. The youngsters would share tents outside, and we had gotten a heap of camp beds and mattresses to put under the porch and in the garage.

It would be crowded, noisy, and all so much fun. I was really looking forward to it.

Fred's wife Marcie was an established cook, her culinary skills the envy of the rest of Pat and Val's extended family. Marcie reckoned she could handle most of the cooking with help with the preparation so that Val would get at least her birthday off kitchen duties.

The week until the Friday we were heading to Brisbane was excruciating. Every time I turned around, I'd find MJ smiling at me, staring at me, or smiling and staring at me.

Twice, as she came into the lounge to give me a kiss goodnight, her towel somehow fell apart and onto the floor. My daughter's lithe, taut and toned body would be beautifully displayed before me.

Another night, dressed in only a tiny night dress and without knickers, MJ insisted on climbing onto my lap as I sat on the couch watching the late news. Her pussy was warm on my crotch.

I'm sure it couldn't be true, but I was certain my daughter was sexually aroused.

MJ kissed the corner of my jaw and stroked my chin opposite where she had kissed. Something her mother used to do when she wanted me to take her to bed and make love to her.

How could it be like that? MJ had only briefly met her mum on the day of her birth. How could she be doing something her mother knew would guarantee I stopped whatever I was doing and took her to bed?

MJ had to have noticed how hard my cock was under her, but she just kept lightly kissing my jaw and stroking my chin.

MJ dreamily spoke, "I love you, Pauly Boy."

I sprung to my feet in utter shock, spilling MJ to the floor.

MJ looked up at me, suddenly a little afraid.

"How do you know that name?" I pleaded, almost in tears. "Your mother only ever called me that on very special occasions."

Clearly confused, Molly said, "Mum used to call you 'daddy dear' on special occasions?"

"What? No! You called me 'Pauly Boy' just then."

"I think you need your hearing tested, dad. I said, 'daddy dear' why do you think I'm so shocked at you freaking out?"

I began to cry, "I miss your mum so much, you know?"

"I know, dad. I sometimes feel she's here with us. It's almost like if I could just turn my head quickly enough, I'd be able to see her. Other times, especially when I'm considering doing something stupid or dangerous, it's like she warns me and guides me to better choices."

"You never once complained to me about not having a mother, MJ. Why is that?"

"Because I grew up secure in your love, dad. Having mum here would have been better. Sure it would have been. But you've done exceptionally well with the four of us.

"Pat and Val had a lot to do with it, too, MJ."

"Yes, but the majority of what we've all become is because of your steadfastness and the security and freedom to be ourselves that you gave us.

Do you wonder why I've never really had a full-on boyfriend?"

"Sometimes," I nodded.

"Because they don't stack up against you, dad. I've yet to meet a boy, or a man, for that matter, that is even half of what you are, but, rest assured, as soon as I do, I'm going to marry him and have his babies.

It's late," MJ said. "I'm going to sleep in the bed with you tonight because I don't think you should be alone. You can sleep under the covers, and I'll grab my quilt and sleep under that on top, okay?"