Save The Last Dance For Me

© 2016 Chloe Tzang. All rights reserved. The author asserts her highly immoral right to be identified as the author of this incestuously romantic little story. This story or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a review or in the accepted fashion of Literotica readers from time immemorial. Please clean keyboard and screen thoroughly for the next user after culmination of reading experience. The author takes no responsibility for any computer equipment or furniture damaged as a result of enjoying this story. Continue beyond this point is at your own risk, but please do be careful with those zippers.

Well, I decided to take a last minute run at getting a second entry into the Literotica 2017 Halloween Competition. So for my second story, I decided to go for the sort of sweet romantic love story about a girl and her Dad and her first time that every girl loves to write and every Dad loves to read coz you're, you know, their little girl and every little girl loves her Daddy. ... hope you all enjoy .... Chloe

Like sparklin' wine, go and have your fun

Laugh and sing, but while we're apart

Don't give your heart to anyone

But don't forget who's takin' you home

And in whose arms you're gonna be

So darlin' save the last dance for me

"Bye, Aimee. Sorry about that, maybe your Dad can take you." Auntie Irene disconnects before I can say anything. She's not going to be late. She's not coming. We were going shopping for a little black dress and new shoes this evening and now she can't come with me and really, I don't want to go the mall by myself.

"Dad, Auntie Irene can't make it, can we please please please go shopping for my Halloween dance dress? It's tomorrow night and I really need something to wear." Anything, really, coz it's a like a kind of a semi-formal dance and us older girls are expected to wear something formal and last year's dress doesn't fit. I've grown a bit. Well, more than a bit and last year's dress is way too small now. Way. Too. Small. As in, yes, my boobs have arrived. Big time. It's been a little disconcerting but I'm not, like, complaining, even though they were late.

Better late than never and, well, it's nice to actually have them and they do look good, even if it's me saying so and it's not just me. My boyfriend says so to. It's nice to be actually needing a bra too, as opposed to last year where, you guessed it, seventeen and didn't need a bra. How embarrassing is that? Thank god I definitely need one now.

The dance? It's our Chinese Catholic Church's Fathers and Daughters Halloween Dance and I'm supposed to go with my Dad. I don't want to go. I'm eighteen, I'm way too old for this Church Dance stuff. Father Auyeung thinks we should all be shielded and protected from the sinful ways of the secular world. Halloween is apparently an evil pagan western cultural practice designed especially to corrupt innocent Chinese girls. And that's just the candies and the costumes.

Got news for you, Father Auyeung. You're way too late.

Coz my boyfriend wants me to go to a Halloween Party with him and I know Brad's intentions. Big bad Brad is one hundred percent intent on ensuring that one innocent Chinese girl is corrupted. And one innocent Chinese girl has recently decided, after our last date, that next time there's the opportunity, Brad can corrupt and defile her innocence to his hearts content. Sinful ways of the secular world, here I come. As fast as I can.

Please.

It was going to be the Halloween Party. I'd told Brad that, right after I'd jerked him off and he'd cum all over my stomach. "Next time, you can do it to me."

Short of screaming "fuck me," it's hard to be more blatant than that. Although in one sense I've been seriously listening to Father Auyeung. I'm definitely going to be well shielded and protected from the results of secular sin. I've got a box of Trojans in my handbag. Well, not the box itself, that's too bulky. But I have the contents. A dozen of them from the box that I'd picked up at Walmart. Assorted. Brad was going to be wearing one of them. He could pick.

Except, well, Brad's gonna have to wait now. He isn't getting to do the deed with me at the Halloween Party tomorrow night. Coz I'm not going with him. I'm going to the frigging Chinese Catholic Church's Fathers and Daughters Halloween Dance with my Dad. Father Auyeung been standing up and making a big deal about it at every Mass for the last frigging month. He's been thundering on about sin and the corrupt ways of modern society and the evil influences of secularism on innocent Chinese youth Sunday after Sunday.

Especially poor innocent Chinese girls corrupted by secular fashion, sinful ways and peer pressure. Father Auyeung loves talking about evil influences on innocent Chinese girls. He gets quite detailed sometimes, wallowing in the words and he get a little too detailed sometimes, especially about the sinful ways of some Chinese girls. It's quite eye-opening at times. He's not too concerned about thundering on about the boys for some reason. And Father Auyeung really can thunder. For a small guy, he can really talk. For a while there, I almost believed him. All the actual Chinese girls love listening to him thunder. I think it gets them all excited, their eyes go all big and round and shine and they probably daydream about being corrupted or something.

I know I daydream about it.

I know whose going to get to do it.

I'm so looking forward to being corrupted.

My Dad doesn't believe a word Father Auyeung thunders, but that's because, well, my Dad doesn't understand Chinese. He comes to Mass with me because my Mom asked him to make sure I came to Mass every Sunday back before she died a couple of years ago. Those were almost her last words, lying there in the hospital. She knew my Dad wasn't religious at all even though he went to Mass religiously with Mom but he promised her, and my Dad always did everything he promised my Mom.

He still does.

So do I.

"Look after your Dad, for me, Aimee," she'd said, and I'd said, "I will, Mom. I promise."

She'd smiled at me, turned to my Dad, breathed "I love you," her eyes had closed, she'd sighed once, squeezed Dad's hand and just like that she'd left us. Left Dad and me. That was two years ago and Dad and I, we'd looked after each other ever since.

Anyhow, Church. Mass. My Mom was Chinese but my Dad, he's a gweilo and he knows Father Auyeung is thundering on about something, but seeing as it's all in Cantonese, he just closes his eyes and snores quietly until I thump him in time to stand up or kneel when he needs to except that this time, Father Auyeung specifically switches to English just to tell my Dad he's bringing me to the Church's Fathers and Daughters Halloween Dance and that wakes Dad up totally. I almost laugh until I realize it means I'm going to have to frigging go. No excuses.

Asshole. Father Auyeung's just killed my big date with Brad.

Doing the deed is going to have to wait a whole week.

And I really really want to do the deed with Brad.

I'm eighteen here and I'm so wasting time.

Innocence defiled will have to wait.

Experience with sinful ways?

I was anticipating that.

Out the window.

Postponed.

Damn.

So my Dad is actually okay about going to the Church Halloween Dance this year. I'd been hoping he'd find an excuse coz, well, to start with, I mentioned my Dad's not Chinese. He's going to be the only Dad who's not Chinese who's there. Trouble is, he's not embarrassed about this at all. He's been coming along to my Mom's Chinese Catholic Church for years. Since before I was born.

He thinks' the Church Halloween Dance is going to be fun and he's come with me every year for years now. Probably he thinks it's fun coz he's going to get to perv at a gazillion pretty Chinese girls all dressed up and looking hot, even though they're with their Dad's and unavailable for secular corruption and defilement. My Aunt thinks the dance will be fun for me too. That's why she was supposed to be taking me shopping for a dress. Only, now she's not coming. And my Dad's not listening.

"Dad, are you listening to me?"

"Sorry, honey, what was that?" He actually looks up this time but I can tell he's itching to get back to work on whatever it is he's so focused on.

"I need a dress for the Halloween Dance, Dad," I say, very patiently. Then, before he can ask. "Last year's dress is way too small, coz, you know, I've grown ... Dad, are you listening to me?"

"What's that, honey?" Dad's really not listening again, he's heads down again on his laptop, back to doing his work shit.

"Dad, you really weren't listening to a word I said, were you?"

"I was, honey, swear to God," he says absently, still not looking up. Fingers flying.

Okay, I know he isn't listening and I'm, like, totally bugged. "I need to go shopping for a dress for the Halloween Dance tomorrow night, Dad," I say, very patiently, watching his fingers. Wish I could pound a keyboard like that. They're really flying. "It's always kind of formal and I need to buy a new little black dress coz my boobs are way too big for my old dress and I need something hot to wear. You know, something really slutty that makes me look like, you, know, a totally easy back seat score for some guy. How about I take the car and get something myself?"

"That's nice, dear."

"Dad!" I kind of squeal this time.

He finally looks up, kind of smiles. "How about one of your Mom's dresses," he says. "She had a lot of those little black dresses and you're the same size as she was, now you are anyhow, and she had some really nice dresses." Dad looks sad for a moment.

Just for a moment.

I've grown boobs is what he means, I guess.

"One of Mom's old dresses?" I say, a little doubtfully.

"She'd have loved you to wear one of them," Dad says. "She packed away her wedding dress for you to wear when you marry. I think she'd like it if you wore one of her dresses tonight." He hesitates. "Only if you want to though, Aimee."

I know that, the storage box for Mom's wedding dress is in my walk-in closet. She gave it to me before she went into hospital that last time. I can see that look on my Dad's face. The sad one that says he misses Mom. "Okay, I'll look," I say, still hesitating myself but if Dad'd like me to wear one of Mom's old dresses and it cheers him up, I will. If I can find a nice one that fits.

"If you can't find one you like, we can go shopping," he concedes. "But check out her shoes first too, I think you're the same size as her and she had some lovely shoes."

"Okay," I say, relieved. I head upstairs right away. If there's nothing that fits, I want to get down to the mall with enough time coz the Dance is tomorrow night. My Mom's walk-in closet isn't exactly crowded. My Aunt and my Dad cleaned a lot of Mom's clothes out after she passed away, the clothes that are left are mostly things like her little black dress collection and some jackets and tops and things that I'd wanted us to keep. She had quite a few little black dresses and as I look through them, I remember her wearing them out with Dad and how beautiful she always looked.

Mom always looked really hot. Even when I was only sixteen, she looked more like my older sister than my Mom. People who didn't know us used to look puzzled and ask Dad if he was our Dad. Mom always loved that, she used to smile that mischievous smile of hers and call Dad "Daddy" and he'd be so embarrassed. Mom and I, we'd giggle together. I smile at that memory, a happy one. Most of my memories of my Mom are happy ones, she was always singing and smiling and making awful jokes.

"Love you, Mom," I whisper to myself as I walk into her closet. Even after two years, it still smells like Mom. Her perfume, it's faint but it's still there in the air. The one she always used to wear. I don't look inside Mom's closet very often, I haven't been in here in over a year and when I do, I miss my Mom so much. But tonight I'm not sad. Tonight I'm on a mission and there they are. A whole row of little black dresses pristine in the protection of their dry cleaners plastic.

Say one thing for Mom, she knew how to pick clothes. I'm not interested in anything else, just the little black dresses that she had, and wow, there must be twenty of them. I work my way down the rack, taking out the ones I like that I want to try on, ending up with half a dozen laid out on Dad's bed. Mom and Dad's bed, except Mom's side hasn't been slept in for two years. Her bedside cabinet is untouched, the way she'd left it that last day before she went into the hospital and never returned.

I'm sad myself now, just for a moment, but the sadness vanishes as I look at those dresses and I know, looking at them, that Mom'd like me to wear one. It's just a feeling but I'm sure of it. The first's too long, that goes back. The second, I just don't like the style at all. The third? Wow. It's kind of very short on actual material and I didn't know Mom had a dress like this. I ease it out of the cover, hold it up. Really, there's not much to it at all. It's short, it's backless, it's ... I'm going to try it on.

Peeling off my jeans and my t-shirt, I drop them on the bed. This is definitely not a dress you wear a bra with, so my bra goes next and I stretch for a moment, enjoying standing there in nothing but my panties. I slip that dress on over my head and oh my god I'd die if I wear this dress anywhere outside the house. I mean its soooooo .... I don't know how to say it.

Revealing?

Yeah, I guess that's about as accurate as it gets. I mean, to start with we're talking totally backless. As in, no back at all and show of half your butt backless which I kind of feel but confirm using the mirror. We're talking butt cleavage here and I can see the top of my white cotton panties and they're not exactly granny panties, they're bikini briefs and I'm definitely going to have to wear something a little briefer. Waaaaay briefter. Yep, butt cleavage is what we're talking here, which I don't mind coz hey, I wear a bikini in summer and I'm not shy.

Yep, that kind of revealing.

Let's talk hemlines. This dress is short, that hemline's high. As in, that hemline is about an inch below my panties, and I'm barefoot. Mom always wore heels so how short had it looked on her? We're talking micro-miniskirt short here without heels. And okay, my Mom had great looking legs. Like me if we're being honest here, but still. That hemline is high. High enough that I'd blush if I was wearing that dress. Except I am wearing it and I do blush when I confirm there really is only an inch or so between the hem and my panties.

Told you my Mom could look hot.

Cleavage? Bust cleavage this time, not butt. Well, Mom was Chinese and she had Chinese-girl boobs. Small and firm. Me, I've got my Mom's genes. Small and firm, that's me. Now that they've arrived at long last, anyhow. The cleavage on that dress plunges. We're talking V-front plunge to the navel and side boob showing. Hey, I wear a bikini in summer. Side boob is fine by me. I'm a little exhibitionist sometimes. Two strips of plunging black, a halter-neck collar and some thin black strapping joining those strips to more straps down the side. Kind of Goth bondage stuff. Did I mention that from the hem to high on the hip, that dress is slit up the sides? Both sides.

Yeah, it looks exactly like the sort of dress some pole dancing stripper would wear.

Not that I'd have any idea what a pole dancing stripper would wear.

Except for that one time Brad got me into a strip club.

Butter doesn't melt in my mouth. Really.

Hot or not, Mom's shouldn't be allowed to wear dresses like this. I mean, it fits me perfectly, except, well, maybe "fitted" is a misnomer. Clings like a second skin is maybe more accurate. So my Mom used to go out to parties dressed in something I'd be almost too embarrassed to wear? Well, I knew my Mom and she might have been Chinese and Catholic and everything but I knew she knew how to have a good time and my Dad was, like, totally blasé about Mom having a good time. He thought Mom was hot too, I know and I guess that makes sense coz he, like, married my Mom and then there was me and my Mom and me, we could have been sisters. Twins, some people said. My Mom liked that.

I'm eyeing myself in that dress of my Mom's and thinking wow, this looks so hot but I'm going to need shoes and some really brief panties which I don't have and Dad's gonna die if he sees me in this. But I know I'm wearing it to the Halloween Dance and I hang the rest of Mom's little black dresses away. I do a quick check in my room and no, I have some bikini briefs but even those show in this dress. I take my panties off anyhow and drop them in my laundry basket.

For a moment, I think about going commando and okay, that makes me giggle and I'm definitely shaving myself for the dance. Bare. I like that. So does Brad and my breath catches. Brad'll like that when he does me, I know. But panties? Mom must've had something to wear with this dress and I know she had sexy lingerie in that bottom drawer of the bedside cabinet so I go and look.

Mom! I blink when I look. She had some very very hot lingerie and some of it's still in plastic packaging. I take everything into my bedroom and lay it out on the bed. I'm drawing the line at panties that've been worn, that's just gross, those go back but there's some panties in unopened packages here and those I check out and I'm keeping them. The rest of the stuff goes into one of my drawers to look at later.

What are these? G-string panties?

Oh boy, Mom! These are so tiny. Just a little triangle of black lace and some almost invisible floss. That'll work with this dress and I pick the black ones, open the package, slip them on and they are soooo tiny. Check. Nope, nothing in sight. No VPL either. Lift the dress and yes, I'm going to need to shave alright. But decision made, these are what I'm wearing and without even thinking about it anymore, I know it's this dress I'm wearing tomorrow night to the Halloween Dance. It'll probably give Father Auyeung a heart attack, but it'll be the kind of heart attack I'm sure he enjoys.

Sunday's Mass should be a real doozey.

Shoes? They're all in Mom's closet in her shoe racks and when I try a pair of slip-ons on at random, they fit perfectly. I've never really looked at Mom's shoes before but now, when I do, oh wow! Mom had some lovely shoes and there's a pair of strappy black high heels that will go perfectly with this dress. I slip into them and walk very carefully up and down. I don't have any heels of my own and it's kind of awkward. But looking at myself in the mirror, yeah! I look so hot.

Some makeup, tie my hair up and I'll give my Dad a heart attack. I'll give every other Dad there a woody. I smile, look at that photo of my Mom and Dad hanging on the walk in closet wall, blow Mom a kiss. "Thanks Mom."

For a moment it's almost like she's somewhere in the house, in another room. I hear her, a remote tinkle of laughter and her voice, faint; the way it used to sound two years ago when I headed out on a date while she was still with us. "Go and have your fun, Aimee."

"I will, Mom," I whisper. "I will."

The moment's gone and it's just me again. That feeling that my Mom's in the house vanishes and I'm standing in Mom's closet looking like the main act in a strip club. Better hang this dress up and take a shower and think about bed. So I do, I peel that dress off and I'm putting it on the hanger to take into my bedroom and hang it in my closet and thinking I should go through the rest of Mom's dresses because there's this feeling that she'd have liked me to wear them.