I didn’t ask Dad about anything that morning, or for another week. I had the chance: he works out of our house, in case you were wondering. Personal computers came out when he was in school, and he got completely into them; not just using them, but inside and out. He could fix just about anything wrong with any model, old or new, so after a few years at college he set himself up as a repairman and consultant. He got a lot of business locally because he was so good with computers and charged a fair price, so we always lived pretty well. Sometimes he had to go out of town on a contract, but he always arranged for some lady or other to watch me and the house, and they never gave us any trouble.
So he spent the week working like he usually does and I spent the week thinking about sex. This was new to me; not sex, but thinking about it so hard for so long, and how it made me feel. The only way I can say it made me feel was, well, sexy, which sounds kinda stupid but it isn’t when it happens to you for the first time in your life.
I knew about jilling myself off with my hand, but I didn’t think I was ready to stick anything in my pussy. I started seeing a gynecologist when I had my first period, and she said my hymen was still pretty thick and only had enough holes in it to let the blood out each month. She actually warned me that my first sex would probably hurt and I should be ready for that. After a while I forgot about it—I mean, as far as I was concerned, my first sex was years and years away—but I guess it kinda stayed in the back of my mind ’cause I remembered it without really thinking about it. Maybe that’s why I was worried about Not Marie’s plastic prick.
So I didn’t stick anything in my pussy, not even my finger, because of what the gynecologist said. That week, though, I did kinda-sorta experiment with butt-sex. I’d be taking a shower, which I would have done anyway because the weather was so hot, and I’d get one of those travelling toothbrush holders. They were tubular and pretty long; kinda like a small flashlight. And my butt-ring actually felt kinda good when I rubbed the outside of it with the shower water pouring all down my back and into my crack. So finally I thought the holder would feel better so I started to work it in. And it felt kinda good, just a little bit, so I moved it in and out, slow at first, then a bit faster, and then faster, until—it really started to hurt! The plastic was too hard, so I took it out and I half expected to see blood on it. There was no blood, but there was other stuff, which considering where it had been wasn’t surprising. That turned me off for a few days, and so did wrapping up the toothbrush holder and getting it in the garbage without dad knowing about it.
That slowed down my exploration of this new part of my life, but didn’t stop it. There were a couple of nights I stayed awake after midnight just to sneak to daddy’s door and listen to him. He must have been careful not to moan again, as if he knew I was there, and he kept the volume on his computer down, so I couldn’t hear anything through the door. After a couple of days with nothing to show for it—from him anyway; I was having a great old time frigging myself in the hall and imagining what was going on with him—I knew I had to take a more direct approach.
About a week after I walked in on dad, we were having Sunday dinner. We’d either try to cook something fancy or order out, even though we did that a lot on weeknights when dad was out on a job and didn’t get home until late. We both liked trying recipes and stuff in the kitchen, and some of the results were pretty good. This night was spaghetti and meatballs, but the meatballs were ground turkey with chopped spinach in them. Turned out they were pretty good. After we were done eating, but before we started clearing the table, I asked dad: “How come you don’t have any pictures of mom around?”
“To tell the truth, I didn’t think to take any when we were dating, and after that there wasn’t time. She passed too soon.”
“But, you guys took the videos, right?”
He looked at me like I was a snake escaped from the zoo or something; like he was trying to figure me out if I was going to attack him or just stare at him. “You’re still interested in that?”
“Well, duh! I’ve never seen a picture of her, and I’d like to.”
“Even though we’re … doing what we’re doing?”
“You mean sex? Yeah, I want to see that.”
“Because there’s a lot you’ve told me about mom, but you never talked about that. I think I’m old enough now to handle it.”
Dad didn’t say anything, and didn’t move a muscle.
I tried some more. “It shouldn’t be that big a deal. I mean, I saw you last week, and everything. And I know you saw me with nothing on when I was little.”
“VERY little, Jess; not even two years old! And I think you’ve changed a little bit since you flashed that church.”
It was a family joke. When I was about two years old dad and I were walking past a church that had a nice garden, complete pinbahis güvenilirmi with a fountain spraying water. So I just ran to it and stood in the spray. Then I must have thought I was taking a shower or something, because I took off my clothes (which wasn’t much anyway) and kept on splashing in the fountain. But just then a wedding party comes out of the church to take pictures, and I started running in and out and around the bride and groom and everybody else. A bare-butt-naked two year old girl messing up their wedding pictures, playing keepaway from my dad, and having the time of my life.
He’d tease me about that about once a year. It was kinda nice that he still remembered all that.
Anyway, we were both sitting quiet, not getting up to clear the table or anything. Finally, dad said, “You’ve thought about this a lot?” I nodded. “So you’ve also figured out what you want to do about it.”
“Can we go to Point Cardinal?”
Point Cardinal was a small strip of beach on the ocean about a ninety-minute drive from where we lived. I’d never been before, because it was “clothing optional”. But by all the stories I heard about it, it wasn’t optional anything; it was a nude beach.
“And this is going to help you how?”
I had actually thought up an answer to that question and had even rehearsed it, but now I was nervous and tripped over my words a bit. “Well, I guess you’re worried about me looking at you, and also about you looking at me…”
“And you’re not worried?”
I had to stop. “Well, yes, a little.” Now that I was on the spot like this, I couldn’t remember whether I really was nervous about daddy seeing me naked again after all this time, but I just went on. “I mean, I guess I’m a bit worried about total strangers checking us out. But they’re total strangers, and they won’t know us and we won’t know them. And really I just want to spend a day with you.”
“And when are we supposed to have this day at the beach?”
“How about tomorrow?”
“No good. I have to debug some old software for the school district. Might take a few days. How about later in the week?”
“How about you just show me mom’s videos?”
You know how in books they sometimes have a character who’s asked a question and they say all the color drained out of his face? That’s exactly what I saw happen to dad when I said that. So I knew he still thought showing me those videos was pretty serious.
So I said, “Just kidding. We’ll have a day at the beach. Sometime this week, right?”
But it almost didn’t happen. Daddy’s work for the school district office kept him busy for four days, and it wasn’t until he came home that Thursday night that he said the assignment was over. But he still looked kinda nervous as he said, “Well, there’s a fifty-fifty chance of rain tomorrow, but if you want to risk it, we could still do Point Cardinal.”
“That’ll be great. Thank you, daddy.”
But I really didn’t feel all that great. I was nervous, and I could see he was nervous. But I really really REALLY wanted to see those videos of my mom, even though they were sex videos, partly because they WERE sex videos, so I put on a brave face for daddy and pretended I wasn’t nervous about the whole thing.
But I was.
We left next morning after breakfast. We took beach blankets, some food, tanning lotion, and I had a couple of books and magazines. I was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, with no underwear; that made me feel real daring. But I also brought along a terrycloth beach jacket, shorter than a robe; I brought that just in case I chickened out when I got to the beach.
There was a parking lot about a fifteen-minute walk from the beach, and it had a huge sign listing all of the rules. It said there was no alcohol allowed, no utensils of any kind, no glass bottles; most of it was the usual beach warnings. But at the end of the list, like they wanted to sneak it in, it said that partial or total nudity was allowed but “overt sexual displays”—whatever that meant—could get you kicked out.
We just kinda read that sign a few times; all of a sudden we weren’t in a rush to get to the beach. “This is your last chance to chicken out, Jess.”
I guess he could tell I was nervous but I just said, “We came this far, so let’s have some fun.” And we walked down to the beach.
We heard it before we saw it: the waves weren’t so big, but they were loud enough for the sound to carry as they broke on the beach. The path cut between two tall sand dunes; it felt almost like going through a tunnel, and I remember thinking that having a real tunnel that emptied out onto the beach would really be an “overt sexual display”, in a way. But we passed between the dunes and then the path ended on the beach.
It was a nice sunny day, warm but not hot, and about two dozen people were already there. Some of them had swimsuits on, so the stories I’d heard about it were wrong. But there were also women who had their tops off, and about half the people were pinbahis yeni giriş totally nude. Some of them were young and some were older, which didn’t look all that great. The women on towels getting tans either had their legs closed together, or spread wide. I guess that didn’t count as an “overt sexual display” since nobody seemed to make a big deal of it. The women sure didn’t seem to care if anybody looked at their pussies.
The men I saw were kinda the same; their dicks were (I guess) full but not erect. They just kinda pointed down instead of straight out or up. Most guys had come with a woman, but some were there alone, and I saw two guys walking down the beach holding hands.
Daddy walked next to me as we looked for a place to set up. He was close, maybe a little closer than usual. It occurred to me that he was looking out for me in a strange place, which made me feel warm on the inside. I mean, I always loved my daddy, but this was knowing that he loved me too, which always feels good.
We found an open stretch near the water’s edge, a place not too close to anyone else. I think we both thought that getting into a random conversation with a naked stranger—man or woman—was just a bit too weird for today. So we set down our towels, unpacked what we needed, and started to take stuff off. I waited a bit until daddy started, and then I started taking my own clothes off slower. I wanted to see him first, no longer sure of what I’d see.
When I saw him in his room after he’d jerked off, his hand was still wrapped around his cock and there was sperm all over it. This time he was like the other guys on the beach: his cock was kinda hard but hanging down. It was like I didn’t really see it last week so I tried to get a long, long look at it now. He noticed that, of course, and maybe I was embarrassing him by staring, which I didn’t realize I was doing, ’cause he said, “Waiting for an engraved invitation?”
“Oh. Er, sorry dad.”
“Well, you’re the one that wanted to go to Rome, so it’s time to get like the Romans.”
His joking about it made me feel both more nervous and less nervous, if that makes any sense. He wanted to say it wasn’t such a big deal, but it still was, especially since I was still looking at his dick. So I pulled off my t-shirt. My tits aren’t real big, but they’re big enough; it was a headache having to shop for bras. I mean, no way was I gonna drag daddy along on that errand. So I had to find a friend who was free that day so we could go to the mall together. It didn’t really matter who went with me.
This time, though, the instant I took off the t-shirt I could feel my nips tighten up. Daddy may not have been erect but I was. Fortunately, the way my tits are, there’s not much difference in how I look when my nipples are erect. But, damn, there was a difference in how I FELT. I was so self-conscious about them, even though nobody could tell the difference, that I was really worried now about taking off my cargo shorts. I started feeling wet down there, and was sure I’d get busted for an “overt sexual display” even if I didn’t even plan on it. But then I realized nobody was looking at me, except daddy, and he wasn’t staring or anything. So, like I was on a diving board, I took a breath and dropped my shorts.
Now that I was as naked as most of the people there, it felt kinda nice. I didn’t stand out as a newcomer or anything like that. I looked over at dad, and he had … a kinda weird look on his face. I can’t describe it. So I asked, “What’s the matter?”
It was like the question woke him up out of a nap. “Nothing, Jess. Just thinking how nice you look.”
“Yeah, thanks. You look, erm, nice, too. I guess.”
His smile got wider. “I think the worst part is over now, so let’s just relax and have a day at the beach like we planned.”
I wasn’t even sure that was possible any more. But I stretched out on my stomach, grabbed one of the books I brought, and started reading it. I kinda worried about passers-by seeing my pussy so I tried not to let my legs go limp and open up, but after a few minutes of reading and getting some sun on me I stopped worrying about it. From where we were on the beach, it looked like nobody else was worried about being stared at or stuff like that. And I never even thought that my butt was anything sexy.
After about half an hour of lying like that, reading a pretty cheesy romance-werewolf novel that had a little bit of sex in it, and I was up on my elbows holding the book and taking sips from a juice box which sounds kinda juvenile but makes a lot more sense on the beach than a can or anything, I asked my dad if he could put some tanning lotion on me. I felt like I really was starting to burn, or at least felt the sun was getting to be a bit much, and that’s all I thought of it. And that’s all I thought about it—until he actually squirted lotion on my back and started to rub it in. Father or not, he was the first grown man I ever had touch my bare back, and I liked the feel of his fingers, pinbahis giriş warm and strong, rubbing me in a way I can only describe as “just right”. It was kinda relaxing and exciting at the same time, and by exciting I mean I could feel my pussy getting a little wet, and I was just starting to wonder in my mind if he could see it or maybe even smell it when he asked, “Back’s done, anything else?”
I didn’t even think about it; I just said “”My butt, please.”
So now I felt the lotion and the strong warm fingers again, but this time below the waist. It felt like he was massaging my buttcheeks, kneading them almost like they were bread dough, and for a second it was like I was standing outside myself on the beach, watching my naked father running his hands over my naked me, working my buttcheeks and moving them apart so he could get a look at my buttring, which felt like it had a mind of its own at that moment and was hoping that my daddy would slip his hand down even on a public beach and rub my hole with his big thumb and maybe stick it in a little bit, and that’s when my clit felt stiffer than my nips ever had and I came a little bit right there on the beach thinking about it, and I had to bite my lip to keep from moaning out loud. Part of me didn’t want to let my dad know what I was feeling, but another part of me didn’t care if the whole beach knew about it. I wanted it to go on.
So I just yelled “Surf’s up!” and scrambled to my feet and ran into the water, looking out to sea the whole time and not back at him. I waded out until I was up to my waist before I turned around to see if Daddy was following me…
And he was.
I reached down and splashed some sea water on my arms, then I splashed some more on my chest. But actually it was an excuse to play with my nipples, which were super-tight right now and demanding attention. That just made me feel even hotter, and so did watching my naked father coming toward me, with what looked like his thick cock standing up a bit more than it did on the beach.
And I thought, That’s for me, because of me; I turned him on!
I sloshed a couple of steps toward him. We were still in water up to our waists when I hugged him tight and said, “I love you, daddy.”
“I love you too, Jess.”
Then I looked up into his eyes and said, “Kiss me.”
And he did.
You know that song about the guy with moves like Mick Jagger? You know the part that goes “Kiss me till I’m drunk”? That was exactly how it felt when he kissed me, and I kissed him back, and we didn’t stop for like a minute. We kept on, and I almost fell off my legs when our mouths opened just enough for his tongue to lick my tongue, and then I licked it right back, and my brain just stopped thinking about everything. Almost everything.
After kissing long enough to feel really dizzy, I looked down into the water, and it was so clean and clear and unpolluted, I could see daddy’s cock sticking straight out of the hair below his stomach, and I couldn’t help myself from grabbing the head of it, sticking out swollen and dark like some kind of seashell, but warm and tender. And I started running my fingers up and down my daddy’s cock, slow at first, like I was still getting used to it, but that didn’t take long because I wrapped my fingers around his cock and started jacking him off even though I didn’t know how and I’d never done it before, but he didn’t try to stop be, he just kept holding me in his arms and breathing kinda heavy…
And the next thing I know there’s like white stuff in the water, not like the cum on his dick from last week, but like kite string just hanging there in the water. And it hit me: I just jacked off my father! I just made him cum!
Just then, a cold wind blew right across the water, which made it feel like the temperature just dropped twenty degrees, and gray clouds were gathering. We didn’t say anything as we got out of the sea, dried off, and I pulled on my shorts and t-shirt. We gathered everything and made a run for the parking lot. We loaded up and pulled out just as the rain started falling. And it fell all the way home.
I didn’t say anything for most of the drive, mainly because I didn’t know what to say. I mean, I started to say Daddy, I’m sorry; but then, could I say for what? For jacking him off? I didn’t think I could even say that out loud to him, but I managed to just say “Daddy…” when he spoke:
“I guess that wasn’t a good idea after all.”
For the rest of the drive I wondered if he meant going swimming at all, or going to a nude beach, or kissing in the ocean, or him getting a hand-job from his own daughter. Part of me wanted to say it was all a bad idea, but part of me remembered every detail of every second and wanted it to happen again, and again, and I couldn’t stand it. I told him I needed to use the bathroom, so he pulled into the first gas station we saw. I jumped out of the car, ran to the bathroom, got in the stall, and frigged myself to two climaxes in a row nonstop. This time I let myself moan; the second time was almost a scream. I don’t know if the gas station people heard me, and I didn’t care. The rain was still falling, so I doubted daddy could hear me, but a weird little part of my brain wanted him to hear me, and that’s what brought me off the second time.