What's in a Name? Ch. 02

Notes:

1) 'Joan' and 'Beth' are the same person. When referring to events in the past, I will generally use her original name, Joan. Talking to her or about in the present, I will use Beth. Both names refer to the same individual, but will alter the nature of our relationship.

2) This is a re-submission of an earlier story. I've started writing the story from Beth's perspective and some scenes have changed as a result.

The setting for this story is Colin's Beach, on the Columbia River north of Portland, OR. The setting is a real park and 'Clothing Optional' is a stated rule of the park. Everything that keeps the park 'family friendly' is included in the 'unwritten, but understood' rules as described in the story. Observations of the narrator are based on personal experience. All characters and events are fictional.

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Chapter 2: The Beach

My daughter had always disliked her name, Joan, considering it boring. She was named for Cathy's favorite Aunt (Cathy and I divorced when Joan was 14 and her older brother Paul was 20). We had joint custody, with Joan staying with me from Thursday evening to Monday morning. When Joan finished high school, she decided to start going by her middle name, Beth (for Elizabeth). When she changed her name, it changed her, and the nature of our relationship. Joan was my daughter. Beth became my lover as of last night. She had intentionally gotten us both tipsy (she joined me in drinking beer), and then seduced me.

It was a cool evening, but we didn't need a blanket. I just spooned with Beth as we both fell asleep, both completely sated.

The next morning, I woke up before Beth, and sat up in bed, admiring her -- the cute face and magnificent body, sculpted by her twin passions of soccer and dancing. Looking at her, I started thinking about the last time I had seen her undressed. When she woke up I asked "Beth, do you remember changing together when we went swimming?"

"Of course" she answered. "Why?"

"I was just thinking about how long it's been since I've seen you naked." We had been going to public pools in the area since she was a toddler. Cathy had joined us at the pool until Joan was about 4. Joan and I used the 'Family Changing Rooms' until she was 7 or 8. "You've changed a bit since then."

She sat up and looked down at herself - including her B-cup breasts and the black pubic hair that had developed as she matured. "I was kinda' short then..."

I chuckled "there is that." I suggested that we start getting ready for the day. I pulled on my sweatpants and walked out to the kitchen to make coffee. As usual, I picked up the paper from the front porch and looked through it while the coffee was brewing. When it was done, I returned with two mugs to find Beth brushing her teeth in the master bath. The outfit she had selected for the day was on the bed. "I was hoping we could get ready together" she said around the brush.

"If you mean showering together , I'm all for it. I always appreciate having someone to wash my back."

She replied, "That's exactly what I had in mind. I've always envied your shower. The one in the guest bath is OK, but I like the double heads in yours."

As I took off my sweatpants, I commented "I'm not sure why I bothered with these. It's not like I had to worry about you seeing me as I crossed the living room."

Beth giggled "I thought about saying something when you put them on."

I took a hit of coffee. "During the week when you're at Mom's, I generally don't wear anything until after my shower. To be honest, as long as it's warm enough, I'm almost more comfortable naked than I am dressed." As I said this, a thought struck me - something to bring up later.

"I've never seen Mom naked around the house - or anywhere, actually. I don't think she's seen me undressed either. Wait, there was one time I was late getting ready for soccer practice and I changed out of my leotard in the laundry room while she was there. Now that I think about it, I don't think I've seen her naked since the three of us changed to go swimming. I barely remember that since I was what, maybe 4 when she quit going with us? I've seen you naked countless times since then. Last night is the first time I've seen 'all' of you in about a decade."

This led to comparing notes about locker rooms. "At the pool or the gym" I observed, "most guys are like me. If I'm changing into a swimsuit or running shorts, I undress and dress almost as if I'm at home; the only difference is that I'm putting things in a locker instead of a hamper. I don't try to cover myself when I'm naked, but I'll generally be facing the locker. When I'm taking a shower afterwards, I don't bother covering myself after undressing, and am perfectly comfortable walking around naked. Some guys will wrap a towel around their waist, but most won't bother. One of the cardinal rules in men's locker rooms is that you never overtly look at another man's junk, but I doubt I'm the only guy who will steal an occasional covert glance. Generally it's if there's something unusual, like he's shaved his crotch, or is unusually large or small."

Beth seemed to be trying to visualize this before she spoke. "I'm not quite that immodest, but I'm virtually an exhibitionist compared to some of my classmates." She had just graduated from High School so of course, her experience with locker rooms was dominated by the one at school. "I change out of street clothes pretty much the same way as you do - basically 'take off the street clothes and put on the soccer stuff.' If I'm wearing something that I don't want to get wrinkled, I'll fold it or whatever before putting it into the locker, but I'm still wearing at least underwear at that point. A few girls would change in the stalls for gym class, but most just change, facing their locker.

The rule about not looking seems to be about the same for the crotch, but does not apply to boobs. Some girls still may occasionally make a comment. When we started needing bras in middle school, it seemed we were always talking about cup sizes and stuff. Late bloomers would bemoan their lack, or comment about 'taking notes for future use.' Looking back, we were almost always covered from the waist down, but would comment about our boobs as we were putting on - or taking off - our bras. Among the soccer team, most of the recent boob comments relate to the effectiveness of various sports bras. Most of us are small enough that it isn't really an issue. After PE everybody would wrap themselves in a towel walking to the showers. Afterwards, about half would dry themselves behind the curtain before leaving the shower stall and wear the towel back to their locker. I was part of the group who would dry off as we walked, and not worry about the occasional, inevitable flashing. After soccer practice, we're all fairly immodest. At school, soccer players and girls playing other sports generally used their sport lockers for PE, so we would be together. I remember Shannon and Jackie once wondering if the super-modest girls were 'different' somehow. They were just loud enough that the athletes could hear them, but others couldn't."

Both Shannon and Jackie had been on Joan's team a few times during the years when I had been Joan's coach (or assistant coach). I could easily see them making a comment like that, in the way Beth described. It would be strictly for the amusement of the audience, and in no way pejorative of the 'victims.'

By this time we had both emptied our mugs, and had gotten into the shower together. I did wash her back, but didn't stop there. I let both hands drift down to massage her ass then slipped one hand between her legs to feel the slit where they met. She spread her legs slightly and I took advantage of the space by sliding my thumb up into her pussy. This left my fingers free to find her clit and tickle it. While my right hand had stayed down, my left hand slid up and around to pinch the nipples that popped out of her perfectly formed breasts. She leaned back into me and the water cascaded down her front as if to control the heat generated by my hands. Her head fell back onto my shoulder, and I nuzzled her neck. My cock had sprung to attention and was now between her legs, seeking what my hand had found. With one motion, I removed my thumb and guided my cock into her pussy just as she moaned with her orgasm. Once I was inside her, I moved my free hand around her to stimulate her clitoris from the front. Beth's orgasm subsided, but my cock had missed it. A few quick thrusts in Beth's warm folds were enough to set off my eruption and flood her with cum. This time it was my orgasm that pushed her over the edge as she came again.

After I pulled out, she started to lean down to take me in her mouth. I stopped her, pointing out that there was probably a fair amount of soap mixed in with our juices, so I suggested that we both pass on tasting each other this time. She had perfected the 'puppy-dog pout' years ago, and used it. Adding insult to injury, she wasn't entirely pleased with the selection of toiletries in my shower, but felt she could survive a day without HER shampoo and conditioner.

She the returned the favor and washed my back. Her hands wandered much as mine had earlier. When finished with my back, she massaged my ass, then both hands slipped to the front. She washed my balls with one hand, while the other ensured that my member was clean. I thoroughly enjoyed the hand-job but it was clearly her first time. She wasn't able to make me cum, but I thoroughly enjoyed her attention.

As we were drying off, she asked if it was OK to bring her stuff to the master bath when we were done. This brought up the elephant in the room. I had considered last night a single, 'special occasion.' Beth clearly thought that she and I would be sleeping together on a regular basis. She had broken up with her boyfriend shortly before graduation. They didn't have a fight or anything; they just decided that, since they were going to different colleges in the fall, they should transition to 'just friends' when they weren't seeing each other regularly at school. Beth's refusal to fuck him probably contributed to his accepting the arrangement - apparently her (excellent) BJ's weren't enough for him. For now, she and I were both 'single.' If we were going to be sleeping together regularly, it could continue almost indefinitely since she had a full-ride scholarship at one of the top soccer programs in the country, which happened to be in our home town - Portland. She was one of four girls from her high school team who had accepted Soccer scholarships to the University of Portland (the other three were Karen, Shannon and Jackie), and the four of them had arranged to share a 'suite' (two bedrooms connected to a common bathroom) together. They had all agreed to cover for each other in terms of bed-checks, and wouldn't question where anyone spent the night. One of the few rules was that males could not spend the night in the suite.

At this point my cock was saying "go for it. She's hotter than any of the dates you've had in the last 4 years, and you've already identified 2 shared kinks." Beth enjoyed receiving and giving oral sex, and last night she expressed interest in watching me pee. Cathy didn't really share my interest in either kink. Occasionally when we showered together, she would let me watch her pee. She seemed to enjoy having me go down on her but was not eager to return the favor. Cathy had never tasted herself, while Beth stated that she had, and found that she liked it. The pee fetish was a bit more tenuous -- I know I was into it, but Beth had only mentioned that she liked watching me. The sex we shared last night was incredible. I don't remember ever cumming more than twice in one session. The blow-job she gave me was one of the best I have ever had, and she seemed eager to learn whatever I was willing to share with her.

On the other hand, I had to consider her future. Although I didn't see her as my daughter (last night was sufficient proof of that) the fact remained that she was, and her best interests were my primary responsibility. "Beth, we need to talk about this. I want to start by saying that I love you - as Beth. I loved Joan in the same way as any father loves his 'little girl.' As Beth, you are my lover, with everything that implies. Although you no longer see me as your father - and to be honest - last night would have been a lot different if I still saw you as my daughter, that doesn't change the facts. As much as I would like to take you as my wife, the LGBTQ cause has no plans to include 'Incest' in their campaign for marriage equality. Prior to last night, I was in complete agreement with them on that point. After last night, I've had second thoughts, but nature itself is on their side, and you should know that I'm reluctant to argue with 'Mother Nature.' Incest is about the only universal taboo - and you know enough genetics to understand why."

Beth clearly understood what I was saying and, just as clearly, wasn't happy about it. "The taboo is from the increased likelihood of deformities. You've had a vasectomy, so you can't get me pregnant."

"So you don't plan on ever having children? Yes, I know there are ways around it. Your cousin Janet and her wife have two children. The children have two loving parents, but they will never know their 'biological father.' Growing up with two Mommies or two Daddies is now accepted. Coming from a household where Mommie is living with Grandpa would be different. Besides the issue of children, I'm obviously old enough to be your father and, despite advances in medical technology, I will likely die some 40 years before you do. You remember your grandmother, but you never really met my mother. Because of Alzheimer's, the person who raised me was gone by the time you were old enough to remember her. My father died when he was 66, and she was a widow until she died some 30 years later. For 20 years, she did all the things they had planned to do together, but she was alone. She sometimes had a friend with her, but it's not the same as sharing an experience with someone you love."

Beth seemed to realize that I had a point. Regardless of our feelings, we would be fighting Mother Nature.

I then thought of a middle road that placated my loudest internal voice (that of my cock) while satisfying my parental instincts. "Let's try this: For this summer we can sleep together when you're here. When school starts, you have to start dating guys from school - being on the soccer team should be a major asset to that end. You can spend an occasional weekend with me or your Mom, but you have to spend approximately equal time with both of us. If you spend the night here, you will sleep in your room, and I'll sleep in mine. In essence, this is a 'summer affair' with no extensions. You were able to break up with David, and this will have to be like that. I will also have to find a suitable fuck-buddy when you start school.

"While you are looking for a boyfriend, remember that being known as a slut is bad, but being thought of as 'easy' is worse. The latter can be dangerous when you say 'no.' Knowing what I do about the friends you're rooming with, they'll help with that.

"When you find a boyfriend your age - or at least close, he has precedence. You shouldn't (I was tempted to say 'aren't allowed to') compare him to me - especially in bed. I have about 25 years more experience in pleasing women than he will. While you're pleasing him, you can encourage him to be a better lover. Some women won't tell their partners how to please them, thinking it may hurt a guy's feelings. I've always encouraged them to let me know what they like, since every woman is different. Although you didn't say much in the bedroom last night, your body spoke volumes. In the shower this morning, you didn't say a word save the occasional moan, but again your body told me what to do. You mentioned last night that you masturbate and you can use your experience from that as a guide as well. If he's, pardon the pun, 'rubbing you the wrong way,' tell him. Say 'I get hot when I touch myself like this' or something like that. If a guy doesn't care enough to listen when you tell him what you like, he isn't worth your time. The same applies to boys who think they know your body better than you do.

"Either way, he's not nearly as bad as the 'if you loved me you'd let me' assholes I warned you about a few years ago, but if he's not interested enough to listen to you in bed, it's unlikely he'll care about your needs elsewhere. It took me a more than a few years to catch the non-verbal signals, and again, every woman is different. You could easily fake an orgasm with most guys. Don't, but tell him how to give you the real thing. I don't think you could 'fake it' with me, and your orgasm makes mine so much better. We can both work on 'training the trainer' over the summer."

Beth thought about it, and finally responded. "I think that will work, but I'm not keen on the idea of you and me being a 'summertime fling.' Coaching a guy about sex seems odd, but David didn't hesitate in giving me pointers about going down on him. I can also see how it would help. I especially like that 'training the trainer' bit."

To celebrate finding a 'solution' to the dilemma, I threw my towel on the bed and sat back on it. Beth didn't need any encouragement to climb onto my lap. She grabbed my cock and guided it into her pussy as she scooted forward with her knees hugging my waist. If she's going to find a boyfriend, she might as well know as many options as I can cover in the time we had. An advantage to this particular configuration is that she can set the pace. She started by shifting her ass around a bit, discovering how she could shift my cock inside herself. After that, she raised herself almost tentatively for the first couple strokes, but was soon slamming herself onto my shaft. She lifted herself to just short of the point that I would slip out of her, then drop quickly enough that the bed bounced under me. Once again, her strength as a soccer player helped her out. I've shared this position with other women, but none came close to matching Beth's power or stamina (although the latter trait wasn't really an issue). While marveling at her strength, I was also savoring the feeling of her sex surrounding mine. Her vagina hugged my cock with moist warmth. When she lifted herself, I could feel the coolness of the room on my exposed shaft. This only made her engulfing me that much more pleasurable. Her breasts were small, but large enough to bounce when she landed on me. We both had just showered, but I could easily smell her arousal. Even the sound of her butt cheeks slamming my thighs only increased the pleasure.

As with her previous orgasms, she whimpered as she came and her pussy's reaction pulled me with her. As she came, she fell forward and hugged me, squeezing her breasts against my chest as we shared a coffee-flavored kiss. Afterwards, she rotated herself for a quick 69 - insisting that we make up for the opportunity missed in the shower to 'clean each other.' I may have ended up cleaner, and I sucked some of my cum out of her, but she was as wet afterwards as she was before. When she was done sucking me, she asked if other guys would cum when she did. I explained how her orgasm set me off -- and why I doubted she could fake an orgasm with me. I said that it may happen with other lovers, but she was the first woman who could set me off like she did. We then got dressed and headed out to the kitchen to finish the coffee and grab breakfast.

It was time to bring up my earlier idea. I asked her if she had plans for the day. "Karen and I were talking about maybe going shopping or something, but never finalized anything. Did you have something in mind?"