I grinned slightly. “If you can get me a Coke, I’ll change,” I informed her.“Okay. But what’s for dinner?”“Food,” I replied heading for the bedroom. After washing up, I stripped down to my underwear and hunted through the dresser for something to wear.Sia entered with a can of pop. “Here,” she said, offering the can to me.“Thanks.”Without asking, my daughter started digging through the dresser. She tugged out a faded red T-shirt handing it to me. As I pulled it on, smiling at how she was selecting my wardrobe, she passed me a pair of soft, pale grey sweat pants. Dressed, I followed her into the kitchen, parking myself at the old oak table.“Thanks for washing the dishes,” I commented, noticing her contribution, a relatively rare event. “Avoiding homework?” I asked.“Nope ... Well maybe,” Sia admitted, adding quickly, “But there isn’t much to study. I’ll do it tomorrow.”“That’s what you always say but somehow you end up leaving it until it’s almost too late.” With a smile I suggested,. ??What???I should have seen it years ago,? she went on, overriding me. ?You’re a born follower. An underling. Someone who needs to be told what to do and when and how to do it. When you knelt in front of me and worshipped my pussy simply to try and get your own way it all became clear to me.??Really?? I said with sarcasm. ?An underling, you say? A follower??Her eyes did not leave mine and if she was thinking of backing down it was disguising itself pretty convincingly.A lack of contriteness ensuring my next words were laced with a hint of threat to accompany their aforementioned sarcasm: ?Think my employees might have trouble agreeing with you on that one, sweetheart.? Irony and growing anger –as well as the endearment I knew she disliked, though it was one she used herself- either lost to her or of nil importance.?It was Sunil they followed not you,? she replied, unconcerned, it seemed, by either sarcasm or acidity.?Now he was a real man,? she mused, smiling to herself. ?A strong.
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