So, between the constant rejection, the lack of sex for years, the constant fighting and attacks the peeing on the floor and the growing doubt of my sexual talents ... I cheated. I cheated several times.And I figured out; it wasn’t me. I was still in good shape. I was still as handsome as ever. I still had game to seduce women, get them in bed and spend hours making them cum over and over. It helped my poor wilted ego immensely.It didn’t help my relationship.So, one weekend we were having a “good day.” She was in a reasonably good mood all day. We were invited to my boss’ house for a wine-tasting / barbecue party. We’d been over to his once or twice over the past couple of years. His parties were always fun.It started out well. I kept an eye on her and made sure she drank plenty of water between glasses of wine. We were not attached at the hip. She was often in one room, and I was in another. There were a lot of people there, many we knew, many we didn’t. She was often in the kitchen. “Oops, sorry.” And I pulled my top back where it should be. And then I immediately started swimming laps.When I finished a few laps, Dad was just treading water in the middle of the pool. I swam up to him, “Sorry about earlier.”He didn’t ask what I was referring to, “That’s okay. It happens.”“Today’s my first time in a bikini. It’ll take some getting used to.” And then I giggled, “I guess your old generic heart is stronger than you thought.”He laughed out loud, “I guess so. If it survived that, it should be okay.”“Oh? Seeing your baby girl’s boobs was that much of a test was it?”He showed me a scolding look, “You’re hardly my ‘baby girl’ any more.”I pouted, “Just because I grew boobs?”“Uh ... well yes. That’s part of it.”“Oh? What’s the other part?”“Your newfound ... whatever it is ... attitude.”I decided to challenge him, “Tell me you don’t like it, and I’ll stop.”“No, no, it’s not that.”“Then what is it?”“It’s ... hell, I don’t know what it is. A father shouldn’t see what I saw a.
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