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When I returned to my bedroom, I realized that I had a boner tenting my boxers. I assumed – and hoped – that Elizabeth was too tipsy to have noticed my state of arousal. She was not my daughter – not in a legal sense – but I was her daddy and she was my little girl and daddies aren’t supposed to have erections and sexual urges towards their daughters.
Of course, these were nothing more than rational thoughts, proving that I understood the social conventions and mores of my culture. The erection between my legs proved that I was a horny male and that any woman – even my daughter – was capable of arousing me by a display of female nudity.
The reality of my hard-on trumped the urge to be a “good” man, and before long I was stroking my meat while fantasizing about Elizabeth. In my imagination, I was sucking on her little tits while fingering her clit and she was moaning like the whore of Babylon. Soon, I felt the pressure rising inside me and I began spurting streams of cum on my bed. The several years of celibacy following my wife’s death had been difficult and I had become quite proficient at giving myself orgasms, but . . . I had not cum this hard in quite a while. I felt drained and I went to sleep thinking about my little girl.
* * *
The next morning, I was in the kitchen drinking a cup of coffee when Elizabeth got out of bed and came down to the kitchen for breakfast. I looked up from the newspaper as she entered the room. She was wearing a pair of panties and a tee shirt that was cut off right below her boobs.
“Good morning, Daddy!” she said. I was surprised that she sounded so bright and alert after her experience with alcohol the previous evening.
“Good morning, sweetie. Did you sleep well?” I asked.
“Well, I don’t remember coming home and getting in bed, but I did sleep real soundly.” Her voice suggested that she wasn’t certain about something.
“What is it, honey?” I inquired.
“Well, I usually sleep in just my panties, but when I woke up this morning, I wasn’t wearing anything at all. What happened?”
“Well, sweetie, you tried to act like a big shot drinking three glasses of wine, and that’s a lot of wine for someone as small as you who’s never had anything to drink, so you were kinda tipsy,” I explained.
“Yeah, so . . . what happened?” she asked.
“Well, you passed out in the car so I carried you inside. I was gonna put you in bed and you said you needed help undressing, so I got you out of your clothes and then you said you had to pee, so I got you into the bathroom and you pulled down your panties but, when you were done, you couldn’t pull them back up, so I just put you in bed the way you were.”
“You mean, you saw me completely naked?” she asked.
“Yeah, I guess I saw very square inch of your body last night, but only because you asked for help. And, maybe I shouldn’t say this, but I have the idea that you are maybe self-conscious about having small boobs, and you oughta know that what I saw last night was . . . well, I’ll just say that your body is quite spectacular and you have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“Daddy, that’s nice of you to say that. I hope I wasn’t too difficult for you last night, you know, helping me go to the bathroom. It sounds like I was kinda silly but, you know, as far as seeing me naked, I guess I’m not an exhibitionist but I’m not into that false modesty thing either so, if you saw me naked, so what? You’re my daddy. It’s not like you’re gonna freak out about it, right?”
“No, honey, I’m not gonna freak out about it, but I’m not gonna tell anybody that I saw you naked, especially your grandma. And, sweetie, you’re a woman now, not a little girl, and seeing a naked woman’s body made me realize that maybe it’s time for me to start dating. Not right now, but maybe when you go off to school.”
“Daddy, if you’re worried about being alone, I can stay at home and go to college here. I won’t let you be alone.” It was very sweet of Elizabeth to think about me but perhaps she was being naïve and not considering my other needs.
“Honey, you’re so sweet and I know that I’ll never be alone, but I think I need some female companionship,” I tried to explain in gentle terms.
“You mean you need to get laid?” she bluntly responded, and then she looked at me with a devilish smile.
I wasn’t sure how I should respond to that so I gave her a response in her own language. “Oh, whatever!”
* * *
Elizabeth had a summer job but she was only working part-time and she had a few weekdays that she didn’t work. My job was slow and I decided to take an afternoon off when I knew that Elizabeth would be at home.
I walked through the front door and called her name but got no response. I went up to her bedroom but she was not there. Then I looked out at the pool.
Elizabeth was lying in a chaise lounge, totally relaxed, and totally naked. I knew she didn’t like tan lines and the back yard had a good privacy fence so I’m sure she thought it was safe bostancı escort to lay by the pool au naturel. I had seen her naked before but only once before, the night when she got a bit tipsy.
She was just as beautiful as I remembered. Her boobs were still 34A and they stood up proud. From this distance, it appeared that her nipples were hard but I couldn’t be sure. I saw no trace of pubic hair and she looked like a golden goddess of perfection. Once again, I was as hard as steel and Elizabeth was right; I did need to get laid.
As I continued to stare at her bronzed beauty, she looked over at a wrist watch. Almost immediately, she stood, wrapped a towel around herself, gathered her flip-flops and suntan lotion and started walking towards the house.
I walked down the stairs to greet her.
“Oh hi, Daddy! I didn’t know you were home,” she said very matter-of-factly.
“I just got home a few minutes ago,” I explained. I went upstairs looking for you to see what your plans were for the rest of the day.”
“No plans, Daddy. What do you wanna do?” she asked.
“I thought I might take you shopping, get you some clothes for college,” I offered, assuming that she would jump on the opportunity.
“Daddy, why don’t you sit down for a minute? We need to talk about college,” she said.
I sat down at one end of the sofa and she sat at the other end. What ensued was a 2 hour discussion about college. During the course of the discussion, she changed her sitting position a few times and her towel periodically gapped open to reveal her cleanly shaved pussy. She acted as if she was totally unaware of this and it certainly made the discussion more difficult.
The essence of what she said was that she didn’t want to leave home to go to college. She wanted to stay at home and attend the local college where she had also been accepted for admission. I wanted her to go away so that she would have the experience of living away from me and establishing some autonomy and independence. What I did not say to her, but what I also thought, was that dating would be easier if I didn’t have an 18 year old daughter around the house.
After two hours of arguing the subject back and forth, with passion but not anger, I suggested a compromise. I would allow her to attend the local college for her first 2 years but she would need to live on campus. Of course, she could come home to visit as often as she wanted to do so, and I wanted to see her frequently, but she would live in a dorm on campus.
When I offered that suggestion and she finally accepted it, I could see a look of relief on her face. She stood and said, “I love you, Daddy!”
She held her arms out to invite me in for a hug and, as she did so, the towel which had thus far done a poor job of concealing her naked assets completely dropped to the floor. Elizabeth made no effort to pick up the towel. She simply wrapped her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. “Daddy, I love you so much! I couldn’t stand to be very far from you.”
“I love you, too, my little exhibitionist!” I teased.
“Daddy, nobody’s seen me naked but you and the doctor. So I’m not an exhibitionist,” she proclaimed with feigned indignation. “You just happen to be one of the only two men who I trust!”
“Well, if you keep dropping that towel, I’m not so sure that I’d trust myself,” I said in a joking tone of voice . . . but I knew that I wasn’t joking.
* * *
The summer continued with my little goddess running around the house in her panties and cutoff t-shirts early in the morning and late at night. One morning, she surprised me by coming to breakfast wearing a baby doll nightie that was very sheer and I could see her nipples as well as the outline of her pussy lips. Later that week, she announced that she was going to be laying out by the pool and, a few minutes later, she calmly walked through the house completely naked and out the back door to the pool.
* * *
Soon, the beginning of the semester arrived and she moved into her dorm. She cried and I felt like a parent leaving their child at kindergarten for the first time. She hugged me and kissed me on the cheek and I promised her that she could return home if living in the dorm didn’t work out for her. I felt confident that she would be okay if she just tried it; in fact, I thought that she would have a great time and it would be good for her to establish her ability to care for herself. Yes, it was time for my little girl to grow up.
When I turned to leave, I couldn’t help getting a tear in my eye, too. Of course I loved Elizabeth like a daughter but I had also developed a great attachment to her. She had been the center of my world since her mom had been killed and it felt like a part of my life was being ripped away from me. I wanted to turn around, grab her, and return home . . . but I knew that wouldn’t be the best thing for her.
* * *
Elizabeth called me every night the first week that she was in college and she ümraniye escort bayan came home for the day on Sunday the first weekend. She spent some time by the pool and she actually wore a bikini the entire time. Maybe she realized that seeing her naked or even partially undressed caused me some difficulties. We had talked about her resemblance to her mother and she knew that I was lonely for female companionship so perhaps she was making a conscious decision to make my life a bit easier.
We enjoyed a dinner at our favorite restaurant and I told her that I was considering starting to date again. She looked at me with an expression of great surprise and then she muttered, “well, if that’s what you need to do, I guess . . ..”
“Sweetie, we both need to move on with our lives. It’s been three years since your mom was killed. We have mourned her together and we have clung to each other. I cherish every minute that I have with you and I know how you feel about me, but we each need to have others in our lives.” I was trying to reassure her but I was also trying to be firm. “You need to be dating those college guys and I need to find someone to share my life but whoever I find will never replace you.”
“I know, Daddy, but . . . I always thought that you and I would be living together in that house and that I’d always be your special girl and . . ..”
“My dear, you will always be my special girl. You will always be so very, very special, but I need to find a special woman who can love me like a woman loves a man and not like a daughter loves her daddy.”
Her expression changed as she said, “I understand . . . and I hope I get to meet them and . . . if you ever think about getting married again, I wanna have a veto if I don’t like her.”
“My dear, I can’t imagine seriously dating anyone who would not get your approval. My biggest concern is being able to meet women. It’s been a while since I was in the dating market and I hear that things have changed quite a bit.” I was being quite honest with her. I wanted to start dating but I had no idea where to begin.
“Well, Daddy,” she offered, “you could always try one of those online dating services that are advertised on TV.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” I responded. “Maybe I’ll give that a try.”
* * *
During the weekday evenings the next week, I perused a few web sites that included my age range. I was now 49 years old and reasonably fit and trim, but I was not a young kid and I didn’t need to look at profiles of girls who were ‘looking to chill.’
I also spent considerable time thinking about what I was doing and what I was looking for. I didn’t want to jump into a serious relationship right away. The biggest problem in my life was my perpetual state of horniness and I needed to have a dating life that included sex on a regular basis.
I thought about the sexual relationship I had with Laura and I knew that nothing would replace that, nothing would or could compete with what we had. I really got off when Laura had role-played a submissive little girl who did exactly as she was told and I was hoping that maybe I would find another woman who enjoyed either role-playing a submissive or actually being a submissive female.
I finally signed up for one service and created a profile. “I’m looking for a woman who isn’t afraid of a physical relationship and who gets pleasure from submitting to the will of a man. If you take care of my needs, I’ll take care of you. However, no whips, chains, spanking, or latex fetishes, please.” I realized that this profile might offend many women but all I needed was one who was willing to give it a try. If my profile didn’t attract anyone, I could always change it.
I told Elizabeth that I had signed up with the web site she had suggested and I thanked her for helping me with the recommendation. She immediately responded that I would probably have fifty dates in the first month.
I didn’t have fifty inquiries, or even five, but, a few days after I posted my profile, I had a notification that someone was interested. The email from this lady read: “Hi. It sounds like you’re lonely and you need an attentive woman. Maybe that’s me. I live in St. Augustine so I’m only about an hour away. If you’re interested, let me know.”
I looked at her profile and, unfortunately, she didn’t have a picture posted. She described herself as mature but young looking, politically conservative but not inhibited, and above-average intelligence.
At this point, I didn’t have too many choices, so I thought I would give it a try. I responded, “I’d love to see a picture; you’ve already seen the picture I have posted and it’s fairly recent. The rest of your profile sounded nice. If you’d like to meet, you can respond to ttrntz at aol dot com.” I had recently created a free e-mail account to use just for this purpose and I specifically chose a username that would not reveal anything about my identity.
Later that day, I had an e-mail from girlinstaug at aol kartal escort dot com. “I hate to be judged on my appearance but I can promise you that you won’t be disappointed. If you would like to meet, I am available for dinner this Saturday night. Hope to hear from you soon.”
I was a bit concerned about the lack of a photo. I had heard some real horror stories from co-workers who had done internet dating. But . . . what did I have to lose except the cost of dinner? I responded, “St. Aug girl, meet me at Benito’s at 7:00 pm Saturday night. I’ll already be there, so tell the hostess that you are there to meet Dan.”
The next time I talked to Elizabeth, I told her I had a date. She didn’t sound too excited for me. “What’s wrong, sweetie,” I asked.
“Nothing, really. It’s just . . . hard to get adjusted to things changing. So, where are you meeting this woman? What do you know about her? And how do you know she’ll be right for you?”
“Whoa, hold on, kiddo. First of all, I’m meeting her for dinner. I don’t know much about her. As I recall, first dates are all about getting to know something about each other, so I’ll tell you more after I meet her. And, I have no idea whether she’s right for me, but I’ll start figuring that out once I meet her. And, no, we won’t need a chaperone but I appreciate your offer.”
“Daddy, I’m sorry to be giving you a hard time. I hope it goes well, really. Just don’t go getting married again anytime soon, okay?”
“Promise,” I reassured her.
* * *
Saturday, I went shopping and bought a new pullover shirt to wear to my date. I got the house cleaned up – just in case – and then I got myself cleaned up and drove to Benito’s. I was there by 6:30; maybe I was a bit overeager. I told the hostess that I was meeting a lady who would ask for me by name around 7:00 and she promised to be on alert for my lady.
The hostess seated me at a table that was a bit secluded, in the corner of the dining room, and I didn’t have a view of the lobby or entrance, so I sat so that I wasn’t looking in the direction of the lobby. I didn’t want to appear to be too anxious.
I was looking at my watch every 5 minutes, thinking that perhaps she would arrive early. That was not the case. At 7:00, she was not present. I began to worry that maybe she had got cold feet and was backing out from our date. As I looked down at my watch again, I felt hands on my shoulders. Before I could turn around to greet my date, she bent down and whispered into my ear, “hi, Daddy!” It was a voice that unmistakably belonged to Elizabeth.
“Have a seat, young lady,” I commanded her. “What the hell are you doing here? I didn’t tell you where I was meeting my date!”
“Daddy,” she said with her little girl voice, “please don’t be mad but . . . I am your date. I’m St. Augustine girl.”
“What?” One word was all I could manage. I was angry, confused, and I really needed an explanation.
“Daddy, when you told me you went on that web site, I signed up, too. I wanted to see your profile and . . . well, there’s more,” she said.
“Well? Go on!” I directed.
“Daddy, I know what you are looking for. You want somebody who can be as good to you as mom was, and somebody who might even remind you of mom, but you know it’s not really fair to anyone else to pick them as a mate because they remind you of someone else. Except for me. I remind you of mom and that doesn’t bother me one bit.”
I looked at her and decided to give it to her as bluntly as I could. “Elizabeth, I need a woman for something more than keeping house. Didn’t you read my profile? I need a physical relationship and that’s not what a daughter can give me.”
“Daddy, I know what you need.” She stopped and the pause was electric. “That’s what I need, too . . . and I am not your daughter. You are not my biological father and you never adopted me.”
“I’m angry that you’ve played with me in this way but I know you mean well. Don’t ever do this again. I don’t think we need to say anything more on this subject. Since we’re here, we might as well have dinner.”
I looked over at her and I could see that she was fighting back tears. “Elizabeth, you have not disappointed me and I can’t really stay angry at you. I love you just as much as I ever loved your mother, but it’s a different kind of love.”
“I really wanted to go home with you tonight, Daddy,” she said, explaining her tears.
“Well, of course you can go home with me tonight, Elizabeth. It’s your home, too.”
I desperately needed to change the topic of conversation. I started asking her about school and her friends in the dorm. She quickly began to tell me about her classes and professors and her friends in the dorm and where they were from and many other meaningless details of her world. I was relieved to not be talking about her being my date.
We finished dinner and got up to leave. She placed her hand in mine and held me tightly as we walked side-by-side. I walked her to her car and asked, “Are you coming home tonight?”
“If you want me to,” she replied.
“Well, of course, I want you to come home, sweetie.”
I followed behind her as we made our way home. We both parked in the garage and entered the house through the kitchen.
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