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I’m not proud of what happened. In fact, most of the time I feel disgust for myself for the weakness which brought it about. Most of the time… but the rest of the time the memory brings on a surge of physical excitement and longing.I’ve often tried to excuse myself by remembering that it had been a long time since I had made love to anyone at all. It was about six years since my wife had stormed out, never to return, following the unending rows between us over her uncurbed spending habits which had threatened, constantly, to ruin us financially I was left with our twelve year old daughter to continue to bring up alone.But in those six years I had coped more or less successfully, and Vero, our daughter, had more than played her part, doing well at school, doing her bit in the house, and learning to be a fine cook as well; something for which I was grateful, as I am not proficient in that skill.Now she was nearly nineteen, and had moved on from school to college. As a result, she had to live away from home all week, and for the most part came home at weekends.All seemed to be going swimmingly, until one Friday evening toward the end of her first college year.Vero had arrived home around six that night, and, as had become a custom, I took her out for a meal at our local restaurant. She was strangely quiet throughout the meal, although in answer to my questions, merely said it was nothing, she was just a bit tired. After we had eaten, we drove home, and Vero went for a bath. She always did that because, in the place she stayed all week, there was no opportunity to have a bath, only an occasional shower.After her bath, she joined me downstairs where I was sitting on the sofa watching television. She was wearing her towelling robe, and, as usual, plopped down next to me on the sofa, smelling fresh and sweet, and cuddling up to my left side, with her feet drawn up under her, as she had often done throughout her life. I continued to watch the box, vaguely enjoying the comfortable intimacy of my daughter’s proximity, but without any unworthy thoughts. Not that I hadn’t, in the last few years, noticed the development of her young body from childhood into what I would describe as a voluptuous young woman, with large, and to me inviting, breasts, as her mother had. I suppose I had always preferred the “fuller” figure. But I had not allowed myself to have any unseemly istanbul travesti yearnings toward her, even though it had been a long time since I had myself had sex, and then only a rather unsatisfactory and sordid “quickie” with a work colleague, that had led to nothing.After a short while of our sitting comfortably together, I became aware that Vero was not, herself, watching the screen, and had begun to sob quietly.Turning to her, I saw that tears were running down her cheeks. “What on earth is the matter, darling?” I said. For several seconds she did not reply, and then eventually lifted her head to look me directly in the eye. “Oh, Daddy, I don’t quite know how to tell you this, and I know it’s not your fault, or your problem, but you’re the only person I could ever dream of speaking to about it. We’ve always been able to talk about anything, haven’t we?”That was true. She and I had always been able to talk to each other about anything at all. When she reached puberty, it was myself who had to explain to her what was happening, and our relationship had always been one where, so to speak, there had never been any need to lock the bathroom door.Vero went on “You’ll think I’m being silly, and that it’s not at all important, but I’m so upset about it that I’m beginning to hate college, and I don’t think I can go on.”” What is it that’s upset you so much?” I was really concerned, I had never before seen her looking so distressed.Vero took her time before she answered again, and I just waited patiently till she was ready to speak.”It’s because I’m too fat,” she said finally.”What do you mean?” My daughter was certainly on the plump side, somewhat as her mother had been, though I would certainly not really have described her as fat in any derogatory sense.Then suddenly it all came pouring out. “I’m the only girl in my year, probably in the whole college, who’s still a virgin,” she sobbed. “All my friends do nothing else but compare notes about how good or horrible their sex lives are, or how it was for them last night, and what contraceptives they prefer, and so on. And they make fun of me, saying things like “Oh, of course you wouldn’t know, Vero, would you? You’re still a goody goody little virgin, aren’t you? Nobody wants a fat girl, do they?” And then, when I did once have a date with a boy, he wanted to feel my breasts, istanbul travestileri and I let him, but there was no thrill in it for me at all, and he just hurt me a bit, prodding my boobs with his finger and saying “Yuck, how gross”… I don’t know if I should tell you this, Daddy, its so embarrassing, but…””Go on dear, it’s alright, let it all come out.””Well, then he said “Nobody could ever… Oh, God. Is it alright to use a bad word?” “Of course. Don’t worry about it.” “He said… Nobody could ever manage to fuck me because they would need a two foot long dick to reach past my stomach, and that anyway no man would ever fancy me. Oh, Daddy, I’m so unhappy. I know I should probably be proud to be still a virgin at nineteen, but I’m the odd one out, and it practically makes me an outcast. I can’t join in the discussions that go on, and I suppose I’ll go the rest of my life without knowing what it’s about. I think I’m probably frigid or something.”Vero began sobbing deeply. I put my arm round her and kissed her face to comfort her. “That was cruel,” I said, “and not true either! I’m quite sure you’re not frigid, and that no man could fancy you is certainly not true either.””How do you know that?””Because I’m a man, and just because you’re my daughter doesn’t make me immune, you know.””You mean, if I weren’t your daughter, you might want to, you know, sort of touch my boobs and stuff?””Well, since you put it like that, yes. What I meant was that just because I’m your father doesn’t stop me from having a natural physical response when I look at you, or feel you next to me.””Physical response?””Well, yes. Since we’re being so open and honest with each other, as we’ve always been, what I’m saying is that I sometimes… well, get an erection from your nearness.”The direction our talk was taking was indeed already causing my penis to swell in my pants, somewhat to my embarrassment, as there was hardly any chance that Vero would not be aware of it if she looked into my lap, as she now did in response to what I had said. “Oh, Dad, I didn’t know that”. Her eyes seemed fixed on the lump in my trousers. “But it wouldn’t be any good, would it? After what that boy said and did, I couldn’t enjoy being touched and so on.””That’s rubbish. That boy clearly had no sense, or ability. If it was done properly, you’d enjoy it alright, travesti I’m certain”.There was silence for almost a minute, which seemed like a year. My penis was straining uncomfortably in my pants. I was still relatively young and fit, at forty two, and had normal masculine needs, which most of the time I tried to ignore until they became too pressing, when I would be compelled to masturbate. I was brought up in the generation who were taught that masturbation was somehow nasty and unclean, and demonstrated a dirty mind. While I knew this attitude was totally wrong, and a leftover from misguided Victorian prudery, and that masturbation was as natural, and even necessary, as any other function in life, nonetheless the attitudes instilled in childhood are very difficult to overcome. They never totally leave you.So it had been months since I had given in and wanked, as we used to call it, and I was suffering from what was commonly known as blue balls, that nagging ache in the testes and penis that goes on until you do something about it, and which causes thoughts of sex to intrude into everything else.Finally, Vero drew in a big breath, and cuddled closer to my left arm, this time keeping her head down so that I could not see her face.”Daddy, would you show me what it should feel like?”There was a strange lump in my throat, quite apart from the one in my pants.”Darling, I can’t. It isn’t allowed. You’re my daughter.” My voice was like a stranger’s.”I wouldn’t tell anyone, honestly. If you could show me I’m not just some kind of freak, I’d feel so much better. And I love you, so what harm could it do?”I had no answer to that. I raised her head to look into her eyes. “Are you quite sure? Because this is a serious matter. If anyone ever found out, I could get into terrible trouble, you know.””They wouldn’t find out. And even if they did, somehow, I’d just deny it.”My mind was in turmoil, but the pressure in my testicles and penis was ever more insistent.”Alright, but only to show you you’re not frigid, and tell me to stop at any moment if you’re not totally happy about anything I’m doing”.”Of course I will. Oh, please, Daddy. Show me.”For answer, I turned her head up and kissed her as a lover rather than as a dad. I held her close alongside me with my left arm, and gently slid my right hand down from her neck into the front of her towelling robe. Beneath that robe she was naked. My hand found her left breast, and slowly began to gently massage it, feeling the large nipple harden and rise under my palm.I was amazed at the shape and growth of that nipple. I hadn’t actually seen Vero naked for about five years, and the change was considerable.

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