"Sex With Daddy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jones Stephen A.)

Chapter 2

All that day, Daddy was the kindest, most considerate man in the whole world – he really did let me decorate the apartment. But first, he fixed us both a big breakfast of bacon and eggs, and while we ate, we sat talking about my ideas for the place. He actually let me select my own room and what furniture I wanted to go where.

Then, after we had cleared the dishes, we started to work together. He would help me move the heavy pieces of furniture and I would experiment with colors and placement. I remember thinking at the time that it was almost like a honeymoon – I was a bride being allowed to decorate her own little cottage. Actually, the apartment wasn't little at all! It had a big living room and three bedrooms, one I selected for myself, one was for Daddy, and the other was for a combination den and library. We put a folding bed in there along with most of Daddy's books and the television set, so that it could be a room for either study or relaxation.

Even though the work was exciting and thrilling for me, it was also very exhausting. By noon both of us were ready to collapse mentally and physically in the cluttered main room. Daddy had brought all of the groceries and stuff from the house, including a six-pack of beer. He poured himself one and returned to the couch.

When I asked him if I could have some, he agreed, but insisted that I get my own glass. Now, I realize many people might think such an act scandalous in itself – and I can't deny that it didn't confine to the letter of the law – but I hardly think that one small glass of beer after a hard morning's work can in any way be labeled as contributing to the delinquency of a minor. Besides, ever since I was eight or so, I had been allowed to have a small glass of beer whenever Daddy did. I guess his theory was that if I was allowed the beverage, I would not sneak around, drinking behind my parents' back.

Anyway, there we sat – he with his big glass of beer and I with a very small one – completely exhausted, yet very, very happy with our new home and satisfied with the work we had done. As we sat there, we didn't talk much, but he did suggest that after we finished the drink, we might both go out on a little shopping spree after lunch.

This, of course, made the day even more exciting. I jumped up and went from room to room looking to see what I might like in the way of accessories; while Daddy remained in the living room with his beer.

When he had finished, he came into my room and found me standing with my.fists on my hips studying the two windows in the corner. He suggested that perhaps it might be easier if I measured them, and produced a pencil, paper and a tape measure, letting me go to work while he went into the bathroom to shave and get ready for our outing.

I don't know yet what it was about the sound of running water in the bathroom that excited me so, but it did. All the visions I'd had about our shower the night before seemed to crowd into my mind in a hopeless confusion so that my hands actually trembled. Then, when I heard the toilet flush and knew that Daddy must have been standing over it urinating, I became so overwhelmed, by my fantasies that I actually had to sit down for fear of collapsing. Finally I gathered enough command of myself to finish my measurements, going from one room to the next, finally coming to Daddy's room.

When I entered, I saw that he was in the process of taking off his clothes of the morning. He glanced at me, saying that we could leave as soon as we changed our clothes. With that, he peeled off his shirt and unbuckled the old pair of ragged pants he had been wearing to work in.

I just stood there, transfixed – compelled to look at his chest and underdrawers and the gentle outline of his sexual organ pressing against them.

"Come on, sweetheart," he told me. "Get into a dress and comb your hair and then we'll go."

I had been wearing an old pair of Levi's and a sweatshirt and I knew it wasn't any sort of outfit in which to go shopping. But, for some strange reason – for the first time in my life – I felt terribly embarrassed about changing in front of Daddy, Although I was fascinated by his partial display of nakedness, I didn't want to display myself in any way. Flustered and terribly excited, I sat down on the edge of the bed, feigning exhaustion, surreptitiously watching my father's private parts as he slipped into a clean shirt and trousers. When I finally went to the bathroom, I was overcome with something close to fear, and locked the door and proceeded to wash my face and comb my hair.

I don't know what I would have done if Daddy had still been in the bedroom when I returned, but he wasn't. I slipped out of my sweatshirt and Levi's, noticing that my undeveloped breasts were quite sore, and hurriedly put on a thin sleeveless dress. Then I combed my hair again and returned to the living room where Daddy was waiting. Hand in hand, we bounced downstairs and started off on our shopping spree.

First, we drove to a big shopping center comprised of several large department stores and had lunch. Then we spent several hours shopping for just the right curtains and shutters we wanted for the apartment.

It was almost dusk when we came back and unloaded all the packages in the front room. Daddy suggested that it might be relaxing if we went downstairs for a swim before he started to fix dinner.

I was tired and, even though still excited about getting the new apartment looking perfect, realized that we only had one more day of complete freedom. So I jumped at the idea. It was still quite light out and the idea of a cooling swim in a heated pool was just what the doctor ordered. Daddy told me to go on ahead, that he would be down in a little while after he had sorted some things; so I hurried and changed into my bathing suit. Grabbing a towel, I rushed down to the apartment house's pool.

I noticed that my bosom was still quite sore, but I thought it was something that would go away, and didn't think too much of it Plunging into the pool, I began to frolic like a dolphin in the crystal clear water. At first I didn't even notice that there was another girl in the pool at the other end and that her mother was lying in one of the chairs on the side taking in the last of the day's sun. But, little by little, we began to splash in the pool together, then we began to talk and become friendly. Her name was Jan Bradley, I learned, and she lived in one of the other apartments. She told me how they had just sold their house, too, and that her parents were divorced.

She was a little older than I – perhaps twelve or thirteen – and seemed to take a motherly interest in me right from the very first! Not only did she introduce me to her mother, who was a very attractive woman perhaps in her late twenties, but she even asked if I could come over to her apartment for dinner after the swim.

I told her that I would have to ask Daddy when he came down to the pool. Knowing that he would be there in only a few minutes, we both went back to splashing and playing in the water.

When Daddy finally came down to the pool, the first thing I noticed was that he was wearing a knit bathing suit with no support. Up until two days ago, I wouldn't have noticed it at all, but now I was aware of his body. I felt dreadfully embarrassed seeing him that way, because I had never noticed any other grown men look like that while swimming. He must have thought that he was dressed properly or just didn't know how prominent the outline of his private parts was. At any rate, he seemed perfectly at ease, while I remained very embarrassed until he dove into the water, covering himself from view. Only then did I regain enough control of myself to swim over to him and ask him if I could have dinner with Jan at her apartment that night.

At first he seemed doubtful, but when Jan told him her mother had agreed, he swam over to where Jan's mother was still sunning herself, talked for a few moments with her and finally agreed.

I didn't take much notice of what was going on between Daddy and Jan's mother, but they must have clicked right from the start. What I didn't find out until later was that they had arranged to go to our apartment while Jan and I ate alone at hers.

We couldn't have been at the pool for more than a half hour or so, and most of that time I spent playing and splashing with Jan while Daddy talked to her mother. Again, I felt a flush of embarrassment about his costume when he pulled himself out of the water and sat on the deck talking with her. It seemed to me that Everyone must be staring at his outlined hot spot. I noticed Mrs. Bradley glance at Dad's crotch from time to time, but her expression was anything but one of embarrassment. I wondered how she could even think of looking like that without blushing.

Finally, Daddy called for me to get out of the pool and get dressed before going over to Jan's for dinner. He and Jan's mother were still talking when I returned a few minutes later, but as Jan and Mrs. Bradley and I walked off toward-their apartment, I noticed Daddy looking after us with a very strange smile on his face – it was a look I had never seen before.

Over at the Bradiey's, Jan's mother fixed us both dinner and then, as We sat down to eat, left us alone while she changed out of her bathing suit. She came back wearing a pair of slacks and a starched blouse and told Jan that she would be back in a little while. We were to eat dinner, clean up the dishes, and after we were through, we could watch television if we liked. She told us that she was going over to my apartment for a while and that, if we got bored with the television, we could go over there.

Almost immediately after Mrs. Bradley had left, we started talking about boys and giggling about sex things. I was very excited about Jan – oh, I didn't have a crush on her or anything – but I was thrilled and excited. Being older than I, her body had already begun to fill out – she had already developed her breasts and they looked almost like those of a grown woman. I was thrilled that within a short time, mine would do the same and asked her if it had hurt because my bosom was still bothering me.

She told me that that was the first sign of growth and that I really ought to get my mother to buy me a brassiere so that I wouldn't rub my nipples against my blouse. When I explained that my mother was dead, Jan seemed surprised. Her only thought of family break-up involved divorce. She talked at length about that she wished her father would come back to her mother and here.

After swearing me to secrecy, Jan explained that it had all happened because of another talking about and told her so. She was very patient and explained that her Mom had caught her father "doing it" with another woman right in their house.

I, of course, didn't know what "doing it" meant, and asked her to explain.

"You know," she said, "making sex, right in the bedroom. Mom came in one day, and there was Daddy and this other woman."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"Oh, I know all about it," she told me. "I knew right from the beginning only I was sort of afraid to tell."

"I don't believe you!"

"Silly! It's true! I guess I knew right from the beginning when I cam home from school and Daddy was with her in the living room."

"Doesn't your father work?" I asked.

"Sure he works' but it's not the same. See, Mom's a secretary downtown and has to stay her office all the time. Daddy had a real estate office and he could off any time he liked. It always used to be funny because I would see him around the house at odd times of the day. I didn't think too much about it when he just happened to be there with this woman when I came home from school that first day."

"But how did you know they were 'doing it'?"

Oh? that. That's easy. I watched."

"You watched! You mean they let you watch them make sex and all?"

"No, silly. Nobody lets you do that."

"Well, then, how did you see?"

"Easy. I just knew they were going to do."

"You knew they were going to make sex, right there in the house?"

"Sure, and I just peeked through the crack in the door."

Throughout this entire conversation, I hung every word. I had just the vaguest idea of what she meant by "doing it" and "making sex", but I was trying hard to act just as sophisticated as I possibly could. Still, I knew nothing more than what my mother had told me long ago about seeds. I was desperately curious about the whole thing! Jan sensed this and finally told me the whole story.

Her father, it seems, had told her to go out and play for an hour or so. And she, sensing what was about to happen, had just pretended to leave. She had actually seen her father and the woman take off their clothes and make love on the bed!

"He got on top of her," she told me with great authority, "and he put his thing right inside her. At first, I thought he was hurting her – but he wasn't really. It was real exciting to watch and all, 'cause they looked like they were having a ball. He played with her up here and all around, then they just sort of did it, bounced around a lot, and lay still for a while. Finally they got dressed again."

"And they did that all the time?" I asked, wanting to hear more.

"Not all the time, silly, but enough. I must have watched them like that twenty times before Mom caught them. I was right outside the window the day she walked in on them. Boy, did she look shook! She just sort of stood there in the door for a minute, her face almost purple, and then walked out, slamming the door hard."

"She didn't scream or anything?"

"Nope. Nothing! And then the next day Daddy went away."

"Gee, and you never told your mom they were doing it like that?"

"Gosh, no! I was too scared. Besides, you know something? I wanted to watch them. You ever see your parents do it?"

I shook my head dejectedly.

"It's great. It sort of makes you feel goosie all over, seeing them all naked and the man's thing getting real long and standing out. It's kickie when you can see it like that."

I was really more appalled and shocked than anything else. Of course, no one had ever told me that sex was bad or wrong, but I didn't think it was quite right for Jan to spy on her father or to talk about it that way. But, at the same time, I was terribly excited too, and came right out and asked Jan if she'd ever let a boy do anything like that to her. She shook her head and told me she couldn't do that because her Mom had told her it would make her pregnant.

"Besides," she said, "I'm not even going steady yet. I've got plenty of time – I just started menstruating three months ago."

"Menstruating? What's that?" I asked.

"You know, your period."

"What period?"

"Boy," she said, "you really are a baby. Don't you know anything?"

"I guess not," I told her. "Nobody ever told me about all this before. My mom told me all about babies and all, but not about this sex stuff; I don't even know if you're telling the truth."

"Sure I am," Jan assured me. "You'll get your period one of these days, and when you do, you can get pregnant any time."

I was so impressed by Jan's knowledge of her own body and by the fact that she had actually seen two adults join in sexual congress that I kept asking the same questions again and again about what she had seen. I was most impressed by the fact that her father had had an erection. I was also impressed by her knowledge of menstruation and asked her question after question regarding what it was like and how she felt.

Gradually the conversation changed back to boys as we began to talk about boys generally and whether we would allow them to touch us if they wanted to and things like that. I was even naive enough to ask Jan about what boys wanted to touch.

"They all want to feel you here," she told me, touching her breasts. "They're all like that."

Something inside me made me blurt out that I thought she had a beautiful pair of breasts and I asked her right out if I could see them – I mean, without her blouse or bra on.

She looked at me in a funny way for a moment, then sort of smiled a smug, proud smile and said, "Sure, why not?"

Then, right in the living room of the apartment, she lifted up the halter of her two-piece bathing suit and there they were, sort of white but rosy with the cutest little nipples on them. I was almost green with envy because I didn't have hardly anything except a couple of sore bumps, and here was Jan with those beautiful round half-oranges.

I guess my pique must have showed, because I only looked at her for a minute before I said something like, "I'd better be going home now," and started to leave her apartment.

She snugged her halter back over her pretty breasts and, smiling as if she had something better than I did, said she'd walk me back over to my apartment. We hadn't even watched a bit of television, yet it was almost eight-thirty, and I was really tired after all the work and shopping I had done that day.

We walked across the lighted patio of the apartment house around the swimming pool and then climbed the outside stairs to my apartment. When I tried the door, I was rather surprised to find that it was locked. I went over to the window to call for Daddy, but before I could open my mouth, I heard Mrs. Bradley's voice say something that registered in my mind, probably only because of what Jan and I had just been talking about.

"It's much harder for a woman than a man," she was saying. "It seems the whole world's on the man's side and he can do anything he pleases. The poor female is damned if she does and damned if she doesn't."

Frankly, for a horrible moment, I thought Daddy and Mrs. Bradley were doing what Jan had seen her father and his woman friend do! Filled with a terrible feeling of disgust mixed with jealousy, I rapped on the window frantically, calling for my father to open the door.

Almost immediately it opened. I had half-expected to see him naked, at least half-naked, but was I surprised! He was wearing a clean shirt and a pair of slacks, and was holding a drink in his hands. Mrs. Bradley, completely calm and unruffled, was sitting on a chair in the living room – holding several of the packages we had purchased that day, their contents on the floor before hen Apparently, all Daddy and she had been doing was having a friendly drink and discussing life in general. I felt embarrassed and thoroughly ashamed, and something made me embrace Daddy and throw my body against him. I grabbed him in such a way that my private parts pressed against one of his thighs, and the feeling of him holding me that way – even though it was only for an instant – was one of tingling, exciting warmth.

As Jan came in, Daddy gently pulled me away and suggested we go into the den and watch television while he and Mrs. Bradley continued their talk.

Since the next day was Sunday, and I could sleep as late as I wanted to, Daddy apparently was not too concerned about my bedtime.

Jan and I had only watched part of a program when Jan's mother came in, announced that she was going since they had to get up early the next morning. Thanking Daddy for her drink, she and Jan left.

Daddy and I walked them to the door then returned to the den to sit in front of the television for a while.

But my mind wasn't on the TV show. It was racing with thoughts of all that Jan had told me that evening, consuming me with a strange embarrassment. I was jealous of Jan for being more physically mature than I, and jealous of her mother for sitting and talking to Daddy while I was away. I was curious, too, about menstruation and the sex that Jan had told me she had seen, but I was too self-conscious to come right out and ask Daddy about it.

Finally, though, I summoned all the courage I had and without looking at him, asked quickly, "What's menstruation?"

He turned to me with the strangest expression on his face. It was as though he knew what I was asking about but didn't know, all at the same time.

"What's what?" he said.

"Menstruation," I said again. "Jan says it's a period." I noticed that he wasn't embarrassed at all – only amused at my misuse of a term.

"It's a woman's way of building a new home for a child each month."

I, of course, wouldn't let it go at that and kept asking other questions to the point where he finally got up and turned the television off. He sat in the big chair and I on the folding bed. Sipping his drink, he quietly and calmly explained everything about sex and babies and the facts of life.

But where Mom had only touched on the highlights of the Subject, Daddy went into great detail, explaining the construction of the male and female body, the rudiments of sexual intercourse and the cycle of menstrual flow.

In no way did he deviate from the role of instructor even though the information he was giving me somehow filled me with a strange and wonderful excitement. Ever since Mom had died, I had been very close to Daddy and had learned to trust him as a friend.

As he spoke to me, my embarrassment seemed to ease away and I, too, became more relaxed. Perhaps too relaxed because I began pushing him to go into even greater detail about all the things he was telling me. Then I told him I was frightened at the thought of bleeding every month and that Jan had said it hurt, and that I was amazed that anything the size of a man's penis could fit inside an opening as small as a woman's vagina. With great understanding, he answered all my questions, honestly and well.

When the talk was over – if it really was over, since I still had hundreds of questions on my mind – I felt emotionally drained and completely exhausted. In a way, I felt like a little tiny girl again, as if I didn't really want to know about such things and wanted to remain completely innocent of all sexual knowledge. On the other hand, I was full of strange longings to know how it all worked and if the pleasure was really as thrilling as Daddy said it was.

Finally, I got off the folding bed and walked over to kiss Daddy good night. Then, like a little girl again, I snuggled up on his lap and put my face against his neck. He patted me on the shoulder and whispered, "Come on, pet, let's go to bed."

Wild visions flashed through my mind as he picked me up. I hoped – yes, literally hoped – that he was going to take me to his bed and let me sleep with him. Instead, he carried me into my room and placed me on my own bed. Whether it was perverse on my part, I do not know, but I feigned exhaustion more than I really had, laying on the bed, enjoying the wonderful tingling sensations that ran through me as Daddy unbuttoned my dress and slipped it off me. Then his gentle fingers reached under my knee amp;, lifting them and sliding my legs under the covers of the bed. Finally, he gave me a soft good-night kiss on the forehead and whispering, "Sleep tight, pet," left the room.

But how could I sleep tight? I knew then that I wanted my own father physically and yet there was nothing I could do about it For a time, visions of his sexual organ flooded my mind along with other visions of what Jan had told me. With all the supposed maturity these visions might have shown, they were still the wishful dreams of a young girl – dreams that, at that time, I never even considered realizing.

I think there's a little perverse streak in all females, no matter how young they may be. To some extent, we are all plotters and planners and connivers. Even then, in the last few minutes before I fell into an exhausted sleep, I must have been entertaining some seductive plans involving my own father.