Stephen Jones: Sex With Daddy

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.

The truth is that I began to plot and to plot seductively as a woman. If, at the time, I had stopped to ask myself exactly what I was doing, I would not have been able to answer my own questions. Looking back I can finally face the fact that I literally seduced Daddy into a situation from which there could be only one exit!

The first thing I did really had nothing to do with Daddy at all. It was all part of the same growing interest in my own sexual maturity. I began more and more to change my clothes without bothering with my own privacy. I would come home from school and strip out of my clothing, standing for long minutes in front of my mirror without bothering to shut my bed room door. I would inspect my budding breasts, and watched for the slightest trace of hair around my sexual parts – always with the knowledge that Daddy was in the other room studying for his own school work.

Once, when I was standing there like that, Daddy came by and looked in. He saw me cupping the buttons of my breasts, remembering what Jan had told me about a bra, and stopped for a minute just outside my door, looking at me standing naked in front of the mirror. A slight frown crossed over his face as he asked me if anything was wrong.

"I hurt," I told him. "It's like I always hurt up here."

He walked into the room as I slowly dropped my hands to expose the two budding mounds of what would one day be my breasts. What a tingling thrill it was to stand naked before him that way and know that he was looking at my breasts! I was more excited than I had ever been, but he was calm and said that the following weekend he would go out with me and buy a bra.

Then, another time, I made it a point to enter the bathroom just as he was getting out of the shower. I stood for a long time openly staring at him before he noticed and turned away. But I think my association with Jan and Jan's mother is what really started me thinking. It was a result of that, coupled with the rapid changes of my own body and mind, that forced the issue. I guess I knew, but wouldn't admit, that almost from the first time they met, Daddy and Mrs. Bradley were attracted to one another. As I began to fill out and develop, Daddy and she started to go out from time to time. It seemed that they were always anxious to be together – and to have Jan and me together.

Often they would let us babysit one another when they went out. And it was one of these times when they thought we were away that I discovered – at least visually – what all the lectures had been about.

Jan was a very precocious girl who knew a lot more perhaps than she actually practiced but who, nonetheless, had taken it upon herself to educate me.

In the months that followed, she began to date and tell me all about her boyfriends and what they wanted to do with her. One, she said had tried to stick his tongue in her mouth, but she didn't like that. Two more had wanted to feel her breasts. She told me she had liked that, but that when one of them had tried to stick his finger inside her, it had hurt. She had slapped him and made a scene!

She also told me that she "knew" that Daddy and her mother were having an affair, thought it was really thrilling because maybe they would get married and then we would be sisters.

The idea of being real sisters was thrilling to me, of course. Jan knew a great many things and could teach me about life, but the idea of having Mrs. Bradley as a mother was something else. Oh, she was all right. I don't mean to say there was anything wrong with her. She was pretty and kind and nice to be around, but there was something about her that wasn't quite right. It was as if she was really thinking only of herself all the time and didn't really care about anyone else! I knew she liked Daddy and I didn't really mind that. But the thought of Daddy liking her – I mean, really was not very pleasant. I still thought about how wonderful my own real mom had been. I couldn't even imagine Mrs. Bradley taking her place. And when I thought of the possibility of her and Daddy kissing or anything else, I became furious!

It realty made me mad when I found out that they were doing even more than that! I found out one Saturday, when Jan and I went off to a matinee movie and found, after the long walk, that we had both already seen the show. I had just turned twelve and had really started to fill out, and was really taking an interest in boys. Instead of going straight home, we decided to fool around for a while and have a hamburger and Coke in a place next to the theater where we thought we might meet some new boys.

Those who were there were too shy to speak to us and neither Jan nor I could get up the courage to break the ice, either. So, feeling like failures, we wandered on home thinking that maybe we'd have a swim in the pool. We took a long time coming back, stopping here and there to window shop and even playing a round of miniature golf. About an hour after we left, we were back and while Jan went over to her apartment to get into her swim suit, I climbed the stairs to mine for the same reason.

The only thing I was thinking about when I reached the door was the pool and the water and how hot a day it was.

Taking no notice of the front door being slightly ajar – it was always kept unlocked because I didn't have a key – I dreamily strolled into the living room, padding across the thick, fuzzy carpeting in my bare feet, heading towards my bedroom. Just as I reached the hall, I decided to see if Daddy was in his room and, without giving the consequences the slightest thought, walked right in the door. Then I stopped dead as if hit by a thunderbolt. I don't think I could have got the scream that formed in my throat out if my very life had depended on it. The scene before me had me paralyzed.