Dad, I Have a Questionbywantsomefun1951©
PLEASE NOTE: A virtually identical version of this work was previously posted by me, Wantsomefun1951, on another website under a slightly different user name.
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This is the completely fictional story of a single father and his curious teenage daughter, who is a senior in high school, recounting his efforts to answer her questions about human sexual arousal and response.
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"Dad?" my daughter asked, as she handed my car keys back to me.
"Can I ask you a question?"
"It's kind of embarrassing," she said.
"Jamie, you know you can ask me anything. What do you want to know?"
"I asked my friends Melody and Kiersten, and they just laughed at me. I don't know who else to ask," she replied.
"Then ask me. If I know the answer, I'll tell you. If I don't, we'll do some research to find out," I said.
"Promise you won't laugh at me?"
"Why would I laugh? If you don't know something, one of the best ways to find out is to ask. What's your question?"
She took a big breath, as though she were gathering her courage. "Well, why do I get a tingly feeling sometimes in my,... my,... um,... my vagina? Why does it sometimes get wet and slippery?"
Oh shit. Now what? This is where my ex would have been useful. I've tried to help my daughter understand as much about her body as I can. I was okay with the basic birds-and-bees talk. Years ago, I had explained to her about menstruation and the physical changes her body was going through as she changed from a girl to a woman. I thought I had pretty much covered everything. She was fully prepared when she got her first period. She knew how babies are made, how a male's sperm gets to a female's egg, how a baby grows in the uterus, and how it is born. I had taken her shopping for bras and panties, coached her on how to keep herself clean and how to deal with her cycle, and all the rest.
It had always been just my little girl and me, since her bitch of a mother walked out of our lives when Jamie was still an infant. That's why my daughter and I are so close. I was the one who fed her, changed her diapers, bathed her, rocked her to sleep, helped her learn to ride a bike, treated her scrapes and bruises, and taught her how to drive a stick shift. We've always enjoyed our time together, and she's the kind of kid who's eager to learn new things.
Being a single parent has always been hard, and friends had told me that dealing with a teenage girl would be a chore. Jamie's a good kid. She seems to have a lot of friends, and she's been allowed to go on dates for a while, but for some reason, she doesn't seem to get asked much. As a result, I assumed she was pretty innocent sexually. I realized we had discussed nothing about the signals her body would give her about her sexual desires. Now she's asking me why her pussy gets wet and tingly. Oh, this could get awkward!
"When does this happen to you, honey?" I asked.
"I don't know. I guess when I see a cute guy, or when I watch people kissing and stuff on TV. It was pretty bad last week at the pool when Brian and Paul were hanging out with me. My vagina tingled so much I didn't know what to do. I sorta wanted to rub it, but I kinda figured I shouldn't do that in front of people."
"That was good thinking, honey. It's just like when you get a wedgie. You find some private place to fix your underwear so you don't have that feeling."
"Is it wrong to want to rub myself?" Jamie asked.
"No, not at all. But it's something you should do in private," I replied.
"But why does it get all wet and slippery?" she asked.
"Well, honey, your vagina produces a kind of moisture that acts as a lubricant."
"You mean like oil or grease?"
Damn. I guess I should have known this day would come. What do I say?
"The tissues inside your vagina are very delicate. They would get chafed if you didn't have that lubricant."
"Oh," Jamie said.
I prayed the conversation would be over when she went silent. My prayer was not answered.
"What would chafe them? Doesn't chafing happen when something rubs against you?" she asked.
"So what would rub the inside of my vagina? Oh, wait, I know. A penis."
"Yes, a penis, or anything else that might go in there." As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I knew that comment would bring more questions.
"What else can go in there, Dad?"
"Um, well,.... Honey, did you ever hear the word 'masturbation'?"
"Isn't that what a guy does when he plays with his penis?"
"Why do they do that?"
"Because it feels good."
"Do you do it?" she asked.
I knew having such an honest relationship with my daughter would backfire sooner or later. "Yes, honey, I do sometimes."
"How do you play with play it?"
"I sort of stroke it and rub it with my hand."
"Does it feel good?" she asked.
"Well, yeah. Otherwise I wouldn't do it."
"Do you get an erection? I've seen drawings of that in class."
"Um, yes,... yes I do."
"Do you ejaculate?" my daughter asked.
"Will you show me how you do it?"
"Jamie! Honey! No, I can't do that!" I nearly shouted.
"Because it's a very private thing!"
"Going to the bathroom is private, and we've done that in front of each other."
"That's different. Sometimes you're in the tub and I need to use the toilet, or I'm shaving and you need to pee. We only have one bathroom, and we're family, so we just do it."
"Yes, and so you've seen my vagina and I've seen your penis . So why won't you show me how you play with it?"
"Because it's sexual, and that would be bad."
"But Dad, you told me sex was a beautiful thing."
"Yes, but it's for people who love each other."
"WE love each other. I love you, and you love me, so that should make it beautiful, right?"
"Sex is wrong when it involves family, honey. That's called incest, and it's wrong and it's against the law."
"You're not making any sense. When you and Mom got married, that made you into a family, didn't it? You had sex with Mom. That's how I got here. That's how all kids get here. Having kids isn't illegal."
"No honey, it isn't. It's a wonderful thing. But having babies and having sex is for adults, for men and women."
"You tell me I'm a young woman."
"You are, honey, but you're also my daughter. Fathers can't do sexual things with their daughters. Now let's not talk about this any more."
She sat there with a pout on her face, but said nothing. The silence was uncomfortable, but I must have projected enough of my own guilt onto her that she dropped the subject. Her good-night kiss to me was a little cooler than normal. This was the first time I felt I had let my daughter down.
The next morning, Jamie came to breakfast still wearing my old t-shirt that she likes to sleep in. I guess she's grown a lot since she first appropriated it. It used to hang flat on her body and to come down to just above her knees. It wasn't that way now.
"Good morning, honey," I said cheerfully.
"Morning," she mumbled as she began to munch on a piece of toast.
Normally, Jamie was full of sunshine and energy in the mornings, talking like mad. Today, she was quiet and withdrawn.
"Are you okay this morning, honey?" I asked. "You're awfully quiet."
She didn't answer for a moment. Then she put her toast down and said, "Girls do it too, right?"
"Do what?" I asked.
Oh, fuck, here we go again. "Yes, they do, honey."
"To make themselves feel good."
"What do they do?
"Um, well, they rub themselves, you know, down there."
I could feel myself sweating a little. This was something I simply never considered having to talk about with my daughter. It didn't help that I could see the shape of her nipples under that well-worn old shirt. "Well, they use their fingers and rub around the vaginal opening," I answered.
"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.
"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 kid. 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?"
"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.
"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 child 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."
"This must remain strictly between us. You can't tell Melody or Kiersten or anyone about this," I said.
"I won't. Now please, Dad, teach me how to kiss."
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 think 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."
"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.