I apologize again for the delay in posting something worth reading.  I have been more active on my Live Journal than here.  It just gets to be a bit more time consuming when I am dealing with two sites and all the e-mails I have been getting.  A quick thank you to those who have written and also a quick apology to those I have not responded to.  If you read the Live Journal posts, you'll understand why.

I was talking about the weekend I had picked up my little Angel and the moment that hit me that she was a young lady growing up into woman hood.  She was no longer just my daughter.  I could see that she was her own person now and it was a little sad for me to accept.  After we had finished our pizza without incident I drove us back home.  On the way, she asked if we could go shopping for new clothes on Saturday.  Spring was technically already here but in Canada, it takes it's time actually waking up.  I figured why not, she was a little taller than last year and she really didn't have many clothes for my house since she spent the majority of her time at her mother's and needed more clothes there for school.  I said I would take her, but on one condition, she had to keep the clothes at my place.  It was bad enough I was paying child support which was supposed to cover the cost of clothes, but I would be damned if I was going to spend more money for her clothes to end up at her mother's house.  She agreed to the deal, but I think she just wanted to go shopping.

We took our time getting up and out the door the next morning.  We had nothing planned other than the shopping and left it pretty much open to whatever came up.  It is about an hour drive to the mall, give or take, and we were there around 11:30.  She started off on her normal round of stores and I stood idly by with the wallet and credit card ready to give.  She tried on some pretty harmless clothes and I dutifully paid for the items.  Around lunch time, we hit the food court and she grabbed a table while I stood in line to pick up the food.  While in line, I glanced back over at her and I had the same lonely feeling wash over me as I realized that she really was just a young woman in a small person's body.  She fiddled with her phone and I looked around while I waited.  That in itself isn't that bad, but then I started to notice the other girls, their apparent ages and tried guessing what their actual ages were.  It was impossible to tell who was the age they appeared to be.  The clothes these girls wear today are unreal!  Some look like little prostitutes, others look like business women in the real world, others look like they are dressing to be 5-10 years younger than their age!  That's when I noticed it.  There was another guy, with his daughter, sitting at a table and I noticed him looking at my Angel.  Not just looking towards her, but actually looking at her.  He was almost checking her out.  OK, OK, he was checking her out.  I felt my stomach tighten up. I wanted to go over there and punch him in the face.  Then I saw his daughter.  His own daughter was very pretty.  She too was a cute little girl, dressed nicely, nothing outlandish or too revealing, but I did notice that she had bumps forming on her chest.  

Then it hit me. Oh my God!  I am that guy!!!  I am checking out other guys' daughters just like he was!  What was he thinking? Was he thinking the same things I was?  Was he getting turned on like those guys at the camp a couple weeks ago?  Was I just as bad as those guys?   This guy?  I started to look around in a mild panic.  I was a pervert.  I was a sicko like him.  Then the gut twisting memory of my petite morte I had had the night of the fishing trip.

Then my cock woke up.

I wasn't aware of it until the blood started to flow to it and the head moved and rubbed against the fabric of my jeans.  That sensation made me aware that I was getting hard.  That guilt flooded into my cheeks and I felt them burn as I blushed at my shame.  I was sure everyone in the mall could see my dick getting hard, they could tell who I was looking at, they all knew what I was thinking about.  I snapped around and focused on the menu and looking at the counter until our food arrived. 

I nervously made my way back to the table and sat down nearly directly across from the father daughter couple I had been leching on earlier.  I had time to look at her a little more inconspicuously now.  She was very pretty.  Yes, she had some nice little breast mounds forming on her chest.  She had jean shorts on that were loose, but not overly revealing and little white socks and sneakers.  Suddenly, the image of the scout camp and what those two guys were looking at came to me.  I caught myself staring at this guy's own little Angel, and I was trying to look up her shorts to see if I could see her panties!  What the hell was wrong with me?  But I was betrayed yet again by my own dick.  It swelled again, it moved again, the sensation of the fabric across the sensitive head making it harder. 

I did my best to shift it around so it wasn't so uncomfortable and I made an excuse to bend over to get the shopping bags and to adjust my traitorous dick when I made the foolish mistake of glancing at my daughter's own shorts.  I wasn't trying to.  I didn't set out to do so.  I just leaned over and when I looked up to sit back up again, I saw her legs and her shorts and I noticed just the very peek of white panties hiding inside her clothes.

That was all it took.  The image of her bald peach. 

OK... Let me get this off my chest here.  Nectarine is probably more accurate than 'bald peach' but who wants to see a person's nectarine?  It's a peach, as tempted as I am to call it a nectarine, I won't.

Anyway, I was brought back to that image of her bald peach, the glimpse of her I caught at the scout camp, then again on the boat at the ramp.  Then that shamefully powerful, sinful blast of hot, sticky cum that shot out of my dick, forever burned into my brain.  I sat up, flushed.  I could feel it in my cheeks once more.  I found my eyes glued to the other girl's legs, hoping against hope that she would open her legs just a little wider so I could see what panties she was wearing.  Oh God, I just needed to know what color her panties were! 

I suffered through lunch, my dick throbbing in the terribly tight confines of my jeans.  I felt like I was sweating, not from heat, but from shame.  Then it happened!  When she slid out of her seat to get up to leave, I saw it.  Her left leg moved out first, her thighs parted, the leg opening moved, and I saw the most precious, innocent, yet forbidden peek of her white panties.  There was some sort of pattern, like shapes or dots on the material.  Then she swung her other leg over and stood up.  The glimpse couldn't have lasted more than 2 seconds at most, 2 seconds, but it was enough for me to see that girl's panties, some father's little Angel had unintentionally exposed her panties and I saw them.  I think I was in bliss. I don't know.  I was in shock certainly.  Was this the draw, the powerful magnetism that compelled those 2 guys to stare at my own little Angel?  Was I now making up excuses for them?  For me?

We finished lunch as I squirmed in my seat and we set out to do more shopping.  We went to one store that catered to families and not the giant name brands that I can't afford and we hit the girls section.  I found myself looking at shorts now while my Angel picked out a few outfits to try on in the dressing room.  The shorts weren't for me, they were for her.  I was deliberately looking at shorts that were a size too big for her.  I was looking for shorts that were very baggy and with larger leg openings and they were only $30 for two pairs.  I found a couple of pairs and had her try them on and the inner-sinner voice in my head whispered to my brain "perfect."  I didn't give the rational part of my brain a chance to refute or to get a word in edge wise.  As soon as she came out, I bought all of the outfits and the 2 extra pairs of shorts I had picked out.  I kept them mixed in with the other outfits as if I were trying to hide them because the salesgirl would see the Taint of Sin on my soul and call the cops.  "He's buying baggy shorts for his daughter so he can see her panties!!! Or worse!!! Crucify him!!!"

We hurried out of the shop and made our way for the bathrooms.  She had too much to drink at lunch and had the bladder the size of a pea it seemed.  Suddenly, it felt like I walked through an invisible barrier,  I felt like a hazy, fuzzy feeling wash over me.  My mouth opened and I said to my Angel "Why don't you go put on the new shorts I bought you while you're in there?"  She asked why and I just said I wanted to see her in them. 

When she came out, the leg openings flared out from her thighs just as they had in the store.  My heart was racing, I could feel the cold sweat starting to bead on my forehead.  Who can see this?  Who knows the real reason she's dressed like that?  But as we walked and I looked around, no one noticed.  No one cared.  Compared to the other girls showing off skirts that covered nothing and tank tops that actually were meant to show off the bra, who cared that a girl was wearing baggy shorts that weren't even that short?  An uneasy calm settled over me and I asked her if she wanted ice cream.

This time at the food court, I was in a different frame of mind.  The wrong head was doing the thinking.  I made sure we grabbed a table along the aisle.  I stuffed the bags under the table on her side and told her to keep an eye on the bags so no one takes them.  With the bags to the inside of the table, this forced her to sit with her legs a little towards the aisle instead of fully under the table.  I sat and smiled a little as I watched her swing her legs back and forth.  Both of her thighs were very visible and my dick was throbbing at the terrible thoughts of other fathers looking at my daughter the way I had done earlier at lunch time.  I found myself wondering what panties she had on.  I wondered if she had any of those new styles that were out.  I didn't know then, but I do know now.  There's thongs, french cut, granny panties, boy shorts, hipsters, g-string, and they can all be found in small/petite size.  But those are stories for another time.  At this point in time, I didn't know what all those styles were.

Casually, I looked around to see who was taking notice of my little Angel's legs and if they were checking her out.  I found a few boys look at her, but strangely, there was no excitement there.  I didn't have the painful stab like frozen glass piercing my stomach.  My dick didn't move in my jeans.  My heart wasn't racing.  I wondered if maybe I had just gone too far this time and that I had popped that delicate bubble of innocent happenstance and deliberate sell out.

I have to admit, for that moment, I was relieved.  I was a normal person. I had a period of temptation and of sin, but I didn't have the feelings that I had experienced.  It felt as if I had faced them head on and they backed down.  Those horrible, guilty, sinful desires were buried back in my brain and they were done for. 

I was wrong.  Sitting on the benches, near the food court area, but not at the tables the make up the food court, was a single guy, maybe waiting for his wife or kids or whomever, looking over in our direction.  I tried not to make eye contact, but kept him in my vision to see what he was looking at.  I don't know how I knew, but I knew he was looking at my Angel's legs.  I needed to be certain though. I needed to test it.  My heart started to race as adrenaline coursed through my body.  I kicked over the bags and feigned being irritated by them being in the way.  I moved them to the middle between my Angel's legs then asked her to just grab them so we can put them on the table.  I knew she would have to move her outside leg wide into the aisle to reach under the table.  Her other leg was blocked by the bags I had placed there.  When she opened her leg and ducked under the table, I saw my solo male audience member's eyes open wider and a small sly grin creep on his face.  I had him hooked!  He was checking out my little girl.  I had to see what he was possibly seeing, so I leaned under the table to assist her with the bags.  And there it was, plain as day, wide open to the world.  My little Angel's panties in plain view again.  They weren't loose like her bathing suit bottoms were last time, but her panties were clearly visible without any need to wonder or to imagine anything.  I swallowed my heart back down into my chest and sat up with a swollen cock in my pants. 

God damn it!  God damn me!  I was a pervert!  I did sell out.  I was putting on a peep show for some horny stranger in a mall.  To make matters worse, I had even orchestrated the outfit and the situation so she would have to expose herself!  She did and I started to leak into my jeans.



