Stephen Jones: Sex With Daddy

"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.