by Edward Adams
“I tried that last night when I went to bed,” she said. “It felt good, but it wasn't great or anything. I texted Melody and Kiersten and they made fun of me. They said I mustn't have done it right and didn't have an orgasm. They said I'd know it if I had. How am I supposed to know what that feels like? And what did you mean last night about other things going in there?”
She was obviously upset, which made me feel guilty as hell. Why didn't I think about explaining this to her earlier, so she would have been prepared? Thank God it was a Saturday. I could spend as much time as necessary with her today. We needed to have a serious talk. Part of me wanted to get out of my chair to give her one of the cure-all hugs that worked so well when she was younger, but my guardian angel reminded me that I was suddenly halfway hard.
I stayed seated at the table. “Honey, look at me,” I said. “I want to help you through this. Let me think for a minute about how to explain it all.”
“I just have so many questions, so much I don't understand,” she said quietly, looking down at her plate. “Sometimes I think I know so little that I don't even know what to ask.”
“All right. Do you have anything you have to do today? Going to the mall or a game with the girls, or something?” I asked.
“No.”
“Well, neither do I. We're going to spend the whole day together, my best girl and me, and we're going to figure out those questions and answer them. Okay?”
Jamie smiled at me, the first smile I had seen on her normally bright face today. “Okay.”
We chatted about mindless things as we ate, and then Jamie and I washed the dishes together. She managed to splash a fair amount of water on her shirt. For some reason, I hadn't registered how well-shaped her breasts had become. Sure, I had caught glimpses of her in the tub or getting dressed over the years, but I had never really LOOKED at her. This time, I was.
The task at hand, discussing who knows what questions about human sexual response with my beautiful, shapely young daughter, suddenly seemed like it could be hard. Very hard. Holding-a-throw-pillow-in-my-lap hard.
“Snap out of it, asshole!” my conscience yelled at me, as it delivered an imaginary swift kick to my ass. “That's your daughter! Pull yourself together and deal with it like the good father you are.”
Sound advice. Yes, I can do this. I've potty-trained this k**. I've explained love and loss, happiness and sadness, success and failure. I've done everything all the parenting books tell you to do when it comes to teaching an adolescent, and I think I've done it better than the public school system could ever hope to. Now she wants to know more. Well, better to discuss it with her old man than with a couple of possibly ignorant teenage girls.
I said, “Go take your shower. Let me know when you're out of the bathroom so I can clean up, too. We'll meet in the living room in half an hour for question and answer time. If I don't know something, we'll research it together. I don't want you to be uncomfortable because you don't know about things. Deal?”
“Deal. Thanks, Dad,” Jamie said. “You're the best.” Then she kissed me on the cheek and bounced out of the room.
The feel of her breast against me when she kissed me made me realize again how difficult it might be to get through this part of parenting while still maintaining my composure. When Jamie was done in the bathroom and I got my shower, I shot a huge load into the tub drain. I lied to myself about the identity of the girl I fantasized I was fucking.
I dressed in elastic bicycle shorts (to try to keep things under control), loose sweat pants, and a t-shirt. I went to the living room, and a moment later Jamie appeared, wearing a short skirt and a loose tank top. It looked like she wasn't wearing a bra. She flopped down on the sofa next to me and snuggled up against me. Yeah, this was going to be a challenge.
“Okay, honey, what do you want to know?” I asked.
“Everything, I guess. I mean, I know how people make babies and the process of sexual intercourse and all that, but I don't understand anything about how my body is supposed to react. Like, what am I supposed to feel?” she asked.
“Well, um, it's supposed to feel good. But you should think very long and hard before you have sex with anyone. See, guys have a problem, especially young guys. They tend to want sex all the time, and sometimes they don't make wise choices about it. Sex should be between two people who care about each other, who love each other. After all, there are all the diseases out there, and there's the chance that the girl can get pregnant, so it's a big responsibility. Even if everyone is healthy, a baby should have both a mother and a father there to raise them,” I said.
“I didn't have a mother to raise me, and I think I'm growing up okay,” Jamie said.
“You're growing up fine, honey, but it's been tough for me, sometimes, to do the things for you that a mother is better suited to do.”
“I can't imagine what Mom could have done better than you,” she said.
“She could have taught you things about your body and the changes it's gone through.”
“You mean about my period, and my breasts growing, and getting hair down there and stuff?”
“Exactly.”
“But you explained that to me. I was all prepared when my first period started. Heck, I was the one who had to tell Melody what was going on when she got hers. She thought she was dying or something, 'cuz her mother didn't tell her anything. I was the one who had to take her to the school nurse to get supplies her first time. So I think you've done a really good job,” Jamie said as she hugged my arm.
Damn, I could feel her breasts against me again.
“So, can you tell me what it is you want to know?” I asked.
“I don't know. I guess I just want to know more about why my body feels the way it does sometimes,” Jamie said.
“Can you give me an example?”
“Well, like, why do my nipples get hard?”
Shit. Do I really have to do this?
“I guess there can be a number of reasons. One, which I'm sure you've noticed, is when you're cold. Most people get hard nipples when they're cold. It's sort of like really big goosebumps,” I answered.
“But sometimes they get hard when I'm not cold,” Jamie said. “Why is that?”
“Your nipples can get hard when you're, um, excited, too.”
“You mean like when I'm happy about something? I haven't noticed that.”
“Well, no, I mean when you feel good.”
“I don't understand,” Jamie said, fixing me with her bright blue eyes and playing with a lock of her wavy blond hair.
“Do your nipples get hard when you kiss a boy?” I asked.
“I've only kissed a few boys. I'm not sure I like it,” she said.
“Really? Why not?”
“I don't know. Just nervous, I guess. I'm afraid I'll do something wrong. I mean, I've seen the way they kiss in the movies and stuff, but I'm just not sure what to do. Like, am I supposed to use my tongue?”
“Tongue kissing can be very nice. It's more intimate and sexual than kissing with the lips closed, so it's not something you should really do in public or with someone you don't like a lot,” I replied.
“Tongue kissing is the same thing as French kissing, right?” Jamie asked.
“Yes.”
“I don't know how to do that. Will you show me how to French kiss?”
“Oh honey, I don't know ....”
“Dad, come on! I really want to know, and you said you would help me,” she whined.
I sat there looking at my lovely blond daughter, so much more a woman than a c***d now, so pretty, so desirable, her full, soft lips looking moist and ready, her big blue eyes looking worried, and her breast pressing against my arm. I really did want to kiss her, and not like a father should. “You realize, honey, that this is something fathers and daughters don't normally do.”
“Okay.”
“This must remain strictly between us. You can't tell Melody or Kiersten or anyone about this,” I said.
I was sweating. A big part of me wanted to run from the room, but a part of me that was getting bigger wanted me to stay right there.
“Not a word,” I said as I stroked my fingertips along Jamie's jaw.
“I swear,” she said, her gaze flicking back and forth between my eyes.
“Okay, follow my lead,” I said, lowering my lips to hers.
The first kiss wasn't much more than our usual pecks on the lips that we exchanged from time to time. I held it longer than usual, but I was doing all I could to exercise some restraint. When I pulled back, she said, “That was nice.”
“It was,” I agreed, leaning in to kiss her again.
This time, my hand went to her shoulder to pull her in a little closer. Still with our lips closed, we kissed a few times. Her hand strayed up to caress my hair. Oh dear lord, what am I getting myself into?
“Relax your lips,” I breathed, as I allowed just the tip of my tongue to touch them. I could feel a slight shiver run through her body as my tongue first tasted hers.
I pulled back to look at her again. “How was that?” I asked.
“I want to do it some more,” she murmured, placing her lush lips against my mouth. This time, it was her tongue that darted tentatively against mine.
When we broke apart, I saw that the worried look in her beautiful eyes had been replaced by one of pleasure. We pulled each other together, and I sucked her lower lip between mine. I felt her breath quicken with my gentle suction, and when I released her, she let out a sigh.
As we kissed again, her tongue parted my lips, and reflexively, I gently sucked on the tip of it, pulling it into my mouth. When I did that, I heard a soft moan come from her, and both her hands gently held my head in place. We enjoyed this kiss for a while, our tongues dancing softly against each other.
I looked carefully at my daughter. Her face was a little flushed, her eyes were wide and sparkling, and her pouty lips stayed slightly parted. My cock was like a steel rod.
“Now my nipples are hard,” she breathed. “Look.”
I did. She pulled her top tight against herself, answering my question about a bra, and allowing me to see the pebbles under her shirt. They looked wonderful
“Why did they get like that?” she asked.
“Remember, I told you that can happen when you're excited?” I reminded her.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, running her fingers gently across them. “It feels good when I touch them.”
“Guys like to touch them too,” I said. What the hell made me say that?
“Do you want to touch them, Dad?”
The rational part of my brain was screaming “NO!” but other parts of me were yelling, “Hell, yeah!”
I struggled to get the words out, “I don't thinkt I should.”
“Why not? If guys like to touch them, and you're a guy, why don't you want to touch them?”
“I'm your father, baby.”
“Yes, and I feel safe with you. I love you.”
“But it wouldn't be right.”
“Why?”
“Because you're my daughter.”
“Are you saying this is another thing fathers and daughters don't normally do?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I don't care. I want you to touch them. Please, Dad, I swear I won't tell.”
The excited little voice in my head that was controlled by my crotch was saying, “Play with her tits, man! What's wrong with you? She asked you to!”
Jamie pulled away from me for a moment, long enough to pull her tank top off. Her beautiful breasts were exposed to me. I had seen them often enough before, but not after having shared some passionate kisses with her, and not with my cock straining in my pants. Seemingly of its own will, my hand moved up to surround her one breast. When my fingertips passed over her erect nipple, Jamie gasped and kissed me hard.
“Oh, Dad,” she sighed as I caressed and fondled her firm, young tit. “That's making my vagina tingle. I'm getting wet.”
“Do you like that, honey?” I asked, still massaging her nipple.
“Yes, I do,” Jamie sighed. “Play with the other one, too.”
I started fondling both her breasts, kissing her from time to time. My God, I was holding my topless teenage daughter, making out with her, and fondling her nipples. I was going to need some quality time with my right hand when we were done.
Jamie moaned into my mouth when I began to roll her one nipple gently between my thumb and forefinger.
“Dad,” she breathed, “I want to touch myself.”
“Go right ahead, honey. If you're turned on, now is the perfect time to do it. I'll just go and ….”
“No, stay here and kiss me some more. I don't care if you see me do it.”
She stood up and pulled off her skirt, and then sat down next to me again, her heels on the edge of the seat cushion and her legs apart, and began to stroke herself over her damp yellow bikini panties. I had no idea my cock could get this hard.
Between kisses, I watched her play with her little pussy through the fabric. She started out slowly, rubbing her fingertips over her lips, and gradually speeding up, pressing her middle finger into the cloth and forcing it a little way into her opening.
“Play with my boobs again,” she said.
I was happy to. It kept my hands occupied, hands that wanted to play with both her and myself.
Jamie was sighing by now, her slender hips rocking slightly in rhythm with her fingers playing with her sex. The crotch of her panties was damp, and I could smell her arousal. Damn! All I wanted to do was pull those panties down and off her long legs so I could plunge something inside of her, like my fingers, my tongue, or my throbbing cock.
“Oooh, that feels so good,” she said into my mouth. “But it feels like something more should happen.”
“Try rubbing a little higher, at the top of your slit. That's where your clitoris is,” I said. “Most people call it the clit.”
“Where?”
“Right here,” I said, taking her hand in mine and moving her middle finger around where I knew her most sensitive spot must be.
“Maybe I should take my panties off.”
I was about to say something about how I should leave the room again, but she had already sprung to her feet and pulled her soaked panties off. She looked at me and smiled, and then climbed onto the sofa straddling my legs. Her cute little ass rested on my thighs.
“Now show me again,” she said.
“Here,” I said, placing her finger on top of her button. “Rub all around here. Not too hard, or you'll get sore.”
I removed my shaking hand from hers, and started playing with the trimmed soft blond curls that decorated her mound. She went back to work sawing on her little clit.
“This feels so good, Dad,” she breathed, latching onto my mouth for the hottest kiss yet.
I watched her for a while. I could see that she just wasn't doing it quite right, and her poor clit was getting red. “Honey,” I said, “move your finger down over the entrance of your pussy to make it wet. That way you can glide it smoothly over your clit. Then use you other hand and try sliding a finger inside you. Not too far, just a little bit.”
She slid her finger down and played in the wetness that was there. Her slippery finger slid back up onto her swollen button as she teased her opening with her other hand.
“How does that feel, sweetie?” I asked.
“Oh, God, that feels so good! I just keep getting wetter and wetter!” she whimpered.
Unbelievable. I'm sitting on the couch with my naked teenage daughter straddling me, kissing her, playing with her tits with one hand and her pubes with the other, while she fingers herself. I could feel an actual trickle of pre-cum moistening my shorts.
“What's happening to me?” she gasped.
“You're getting ready to have an orgasm, baby. You're going to have kind of a rush of really good feeling, better tha
n anything you've ever felt. You're going to cum,” I explained, still rolling her little nipples between my fingers.
“It feels like something big is going to happen,” she said, clenching her teeth.
“Relax, baby, let yourself go,” I said, kissing her yet again.
“I can't take it anymore!” she whined. “Help me, Dad!”
I didn't even think about it at the time. My one hand went down to squeeze her perfect little ass as my other hand slid over her drooling pussy. I worked my middle finger inside her until it touched her hymen, and then began stroking her clit with my wet thumb.
