6 Stages of Guilt

There are some things that dads were just not supposed to have to deal with. I mean, the usual growing up, especially for boys, shouldn’t be a big deal. Dad’s should be horsewhipped if they don’t do their share in the raising and giving their kids attention, but there are somethings that if a guy attempts to do with a daughter, it’s just going to get him into trouble.

It’s not that I didn’t know stuff. I’m pretty knowledgeable about parenting and things that kids have to learn as they grow up. But knowing everything is one thing. Explaining it to a child…especially your own child, is not all that easy. Throw in that, being a child, she has no idea what your talking about, it’s like first contact with an extraterrestrial. Anyway, it’s been Jessie and me for the last couple years. When she was ten, her mom left. Didn’t say anything, just packed a bag and left. I watched after her thinking, “Where is she going?”. That was the last I saw of her. I didn’t mind to much. She was not very nice and a little crazy, too. Since then I have been taking care of Jess. It helped a couple months later when I hit the powerball and became an I-got-a-lot-of-fucking-money-aire. I won’t go into how much money we have, but our house has more rooms then the local hospital. When Jess gets pissed off at me she just goes for a walk around the house and it takes me 2 days to find her. I kept working, for something to do, but not too hard. I spent as much time as I could with Jessie. I helped her with her homework and went to her school activities with her. We did almost everything together. So what happened?

One word. Tits.

Dad’s are naturally a little sensitive on the subject of their daughter’s puberty. They go through phases just like someone going through grief. First there is the cold sweats. This, for a rational, intelligent guy like me, is when that birthday party comes where you realize that she’s of the right age for it to start. Denial comes soon after, as a kind of relief to the cold sweats. You realize that she still isn’t showing any signs, so you still have time to put it off. Then there is shock. This happens when you notice that those little nipple buds start getting bigger and rounder, until they start pushing her t-shirt away from the rest of her body. Lastly, there is the run-and-hide phase, where your daughter keeps asking you to take her shopping for a bra and other feminine necessities. You mumble something, turn into a door frame, bounce off, adjust, and skitter away to some dark corner of the house. There are other phases like the wet-bra-drying -in-the-bathroom phase, the no-bra-wearing stage, and others along the way I won’t get into, cuz I have yet to get to that point. I was still in denial until that fateful day that Jessie jumped into my lap and used me as a recliner while we watched an old horror movie.

I know your not supposed to let kids watch scary movies, but Jess thought they were just hilarious. At some point during the movie, Jessie pulled my arms around her and then rested across her chest. I noticed that her chest seemed a lot more squishy then usual, until Jess piped up with, “Dad, your squishing my boobs”. I realized as my shock was kicking in, that my arms had tightened more and more around her. Might have been some kind of Freudian thing, but it took Jessie’s voice to snap me out of my trance, and I immediately moved my arms down around her waist. It was hitting me hard when I let my attention of the movie drift to look over
Jessie’s shoulder and see those cute little nipple buds at full attention. I couldn’t tear my eyes away, looking down the collar of her t-shirt to see some serious swelling going on down there. Things ran through my head, making me wonder why I hadn’t noticed this situation before.

I had grown up during the 70’s, and my parents were still living the 60’s. The attitude of teaching children to love their bodies was still going strong, and being nude in front of your child was not punishable by 1-3 in state lock-up. No, they weren’t sitting around in the buff, but walking naked to the shower
happened often enough, and there was always the occasional shower in the rain. I always felt this was a healthy attitude, and now that the wife wasn’t arguing about it anymore, I pretty much had the same attitude with Jessie. I thought back to the last few times I saw her nude form and had pictures in my head of her cute little butt running away from me, her hairless and pouty “cookie” between her legs, and pretty flat chest. As I went through my mental files, however, all the images I had of her chest, her boobs were smaller then mine. I couldn’t produce a single recent memory of her now apparent headlights. I thought I had a handle on the whole female reproductive process, until I had to determine whether Jessie needed slims or semi-wide, or if the ones with wings came with landing gear or you had to buy that separately.

There also were no classes in college on buying bra’s for pubescent girls, cuz I would have taken it if there was. Jessie’s monthly’s started promptly a month before her twelfth birthday and she was a sport about it. Of course, she came to me as nervous as any young girl telling her single father that she needed to go to the store and buy pads, but my own ineptitude at portraying the calm and supportive father while having a total meltdown inside my head, was so comical that Jessie started laughing so hard that she didn’t recover until we were half way to the store. Luckily, Jessie knew exactly what it was that she needed, other then my wallet, and the time at the store wasn’t particularly painful.

I had no issues with buying Jessie panties. I had been doing that for years already. Buying a bra had a lot more components to it then panties. First, there was telling her that it was time to get one, then being fitted for one, then picking out something appropriate for a 12 year old. I decided that what I needed to do was prepare for the event, knowing what I was going to say and do before it all happened. I worked out the speech I was going to give her, picked out a store that could do the fitting and still had a nice selection for young girls, and would not cause me undo embarrassment while I waited. On the fateful night that I picked to present the subject of wearing a bra with Jessie, she sat quietly through my whole speech and provided me with the only response that I wasn’t prepared for.

“No”.

I sat confused for a bit before I finally asked, “What do you mean no?” “I don’t need to wear a bra. I don’t want to wear one, I don’t like them, I’m not not going to. If you want to buy a bra so bad, YOU wear it”. I wasn’t quite sure where to go with this. First off, I had done all this planning and put all this work into doing this the right way and it was all going to waste. On the other hand, it meant that I didn’t have to deal with it. I decided to take the high road and let her have her way. The thing that I hadn’t counted on is how hot those nipples looked. My final word on the matter was, “Well you better do something about those then, before you take an eye out”. From that time on, Jessie started wearing two t-shirts, whenever she left the house. At home, she still pranced around in very little, and those nipples were always sticking out, begging to be fondled, and I was continually turning the other way to adjust my hard cock in my pants.

So it came to pass on a night that Jessie was once again in my lap. I was sitting in the recliner in just my boxers. Jess came into the room to watch TV with me in just one of my old shirts and panties. She didn’t hesitate to climb over the arm of the recliner and settle on my lap. With an inappropriate amount of wiggling, she managed to settle with my cock neatly wedged between her asscheeks. With her bare legs laying over mine, almost the same length now, her smooth skin against mine was pleasantly arousing. It wasn’t long before my cock was rock hard along the crease of her cute little ass.

The movie was a typical hero action fantasy thing.