 - How did you start your sex life? Was it an easy decision? Was there a long period of foreplay, petting, oral sex, or was it spontaneous? How did you feel having lost virginity? Can you say it became a special experience for you?
I could not look at guys of my age after what had happened. They all seemed to me a bunch of freaks, creeps and mongrels. Did not feel like talking to them at all. The jokes I had found funny before now all seemed wretched and flat, their conversations - dull, their physiognomies - loathsome. It became much easier and simpler for me to deal with mature men - calm, intelligent and wise. I could relax with older men and allow myself not to be constantly on guard for some kind of imbecilic joke, repulsive trick, or a freaky escapade.
Younger guys just made me feel uneasy and in jeopardy, while older men - safe and confident.
And first and best of all men that I knew was my father. Even in childhood I felt a certain sexual attraction to him at times (especially after that event in the city bath house). Honestly speaking I did not think that after that incident with boys I would be able to ever feel sexual desire. But time went by and the nature demanded its own...
I rarely went out at that time or and spend time with friends. Most of the time I spent at home getting ready for my college entrance exams. Father was very good in mathematics and helped me with my studies a lot. He worked from home as a free lance programmer for some bank. He was making a pretty decent living (at that time a good programmer, especially with own computer was paid very well), and were able to move to a new bigger apartment with all modern conveniences. Mother worked, so all day long we were alone - just me and my father.
That summer was an unusually hot one and I grew a habit of going to the shower all the time to refresh myself. I would get back to the desk then, father by my side, and we would look into the sums. Because of the hit I walked round the apartment in just my panties and a t-shirt. When father was sitting close, quite often the feeling of my own half-nudity got me excited.
One day, putting my underwear on after the shower I discovered, that I got only one pair of clean panties left, the oldest one, with a pretty sizable tear between legs. Having pulled them on, I looked at myself in the mirror and saw my hair stuck out of that hole.
A pretty indecent look I had. But suddenly that was what got me exited. Long suppressed memories and unexpected erotic thoughts started emerging in my mind. One of them was: 'What if I walk like that in front of my father?' If he had been watching me then, how would he react to it now? Well... I just cannot explain it...
Thoughts or no thoughts, but it really was not a deliberate calculation on my side. Apparently, suppressed sexuality started forcing its way out denying the logical taboos of common sense. Any person I felt trust to or who I could feel myself at ease with, could have become an object of the assault. The closes object that met the conditions just happened to be my father.
And I walked out of the bathroom... When I already walked across the room to the desk, I felt an upsurge of excitement, that grew with each step of mine (although nobody was watching me yet). Having sat, first thing I squinted my eyes downwards. Although my legs were pressed together tight, at the top of the triangle there still was a gap the size of a coin. I could not concentrate on any sums, I was waiting for one thing only: 'Now he will enter the room... What will happen then?'
Then he came by, moved his chair closer, took a sit by my side. In a trembling voice I started rendering the task. He was very close, I felt the warmth of his body, his smell. I was afraid of looking at him, but I was dying to find out what he was looking at.
I was trying to determine that with my lateral vision, but could not. I set awfully tense and all tuned to any possible sign that could prompt me on that. All of a sudden I felt the smell of his body became much stronger, and he moved nervously on his chair. I pulled my courage together and threw an instantaneous glance to the right, at him, he was looking!!! I was on the point of swooning... Ceased to perceive the reality at all.
Having noticed that, father suggested we had a break and had some dinner. His voice was not firm as he was saying that either. We went. On the way to the kitchen, at dinner and after I was not trying to conceal my tear anymore. A few times I caught him squinting his eyes at it. But he said nothing! It was practically impossible to study that day, could not hold anything in my head (I could actually, but those were different things).
The rest of the day and the next three days passed in a kind of strange ambiguous games. I did not change my panties and T-shirt. I loitered aimlessly about the flat, flashing my pussy in the tear of my panties, hanging around my father, trying to make sure he saw me, that I was standing or sitting the way that he saw. He did not say a word to me about it, did not suggest I got changed, even did not insist that I sat down to study, but most important - he did not turn away!
On the surface we both behaved like nothing special was happening. There was a kind of a unspoken agreement between us. Very usual everyday words were being said, usual everyday things done. We did not look each other in the eyes almost.
But I could stand up in front of him, put a foot on a chair, and he would stare straight at me, eyes screwed up. And we would discuss some extraneous issues, like a book I'd read long ago. After such a day I would fully exhaust myself masturbating at night. But that was not enough for me already. My body needed more.
Everything happened on day three. We were in the kitchen. Father smoked sitting on a chair. I had already shown myself to him that day, we were both aroused to the limit. Horny as I were, I went beyond my usual cheek and sat in his lap, my legs hanging on sides. Everything was open in front of him. His for the taking.
And he gave up. He held a cigarette in his left hand, his right hand reached out for me. First touch... It was like an electric shock to my body. Then the confident and fast movements of his fingers... Nobody had caressed me there before, but myself. The feeling was stronger and more acute that time.
I arched my back and clutched at his shoulders with my fingers, closed my eyes. The cigarette had long since been put off, his hands were softly sliding all over my body, caressing my breasts then coming down again... There was no embarrassment or shame whatsoever, just rapture and maddening desire. Then a sensual explosion tore by body into pieces - I experienced my first orgasm even before I became a woman. I was in no more than 5 minutes away from becoming a woman then. Strong hands lay down on my thighs and started pulling me closer and closer...
I did not see and cannot describe in detail how all that happened, I was hanging on his neck like a rag doll, not able to comprehend reality after the first orgasm I just experienced. All I remember is being lifted by my thighs and 'put on' on a rod. There was no pain, no bad feelings, everything happened with lightning speed. It could not possibly had happened any other way - I was so 'ready'. There were no strong sensations that first time either - for a little while I was just rocked slightly on that rod and that was it. Compared to the preceding orgasm, all that was nothing more than just some pale and dim recollections.
Everything came later... Although I am not going to tell what happened later. Even as much as I have already told will be perceived by many as a breach of commonly accepted moral norms. Is there anyone who scrupulously observed all common norms and regulations? Show me a person who has never crossed a road outside pedestrian crossing - let him point a finger at me. Let's just say I crossed the road where I was not supposed to, but there normally are no traffic cops in places like that...
I am not just sure, but absolutely positive that different forms of this sort of relationships are practiced in many families. Only the secrets are well kept. Truth never comes out, even if serious conflicts took place inside families. It is all a hush-hush matter. I have no doubts - you will hear other stories similar to mine for sure...
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