Daughter’s Accident

Daughter’s Accident

When Chelsea was nine, her mother died of cancer, and I was left to raise her alone. This was not a problem, because Chelsea was smart, active, cute and all around, a “good” little girl. She was growing to be the spitting image of her mother, with bright red hair, brilliant blue eyes and a smile that would light up the room.

When Chelsea was younger, up until about the age of six, I would bath her, periodically, but she was just a cute child, and not the object of any sexual attraction to me. Her mother and I had a terrific and varied sex life until her illness, and after her death, I had no particular interest in other women, though I dated, occasionally, and had even bedded one or two women. When Chelsea turned ten, I began talking to her about the “birds and the bees”, and explaining sex to her on a very basic level. From time to time, an issue would come up, and I would explain more to her, and we had an open communication. She could ask any question, and I would explain it to her as completely as I could.

When she was eleven, she began menstruating, and I explained this to her, and bought her the necessary feminine hygiene products, and explained their use, as well as I could. The school nurse also helped in this regard, and she did just fine. From time to time, I would get a glimpse of her, naked, and noted she was developing into quite a young lady, but I did not make it a habit to look or spy. I also suspect she saw me naked, but we made no big deal about it. My sex life was mainly one of masturbation, and that was just fine.

When she was twelve, she got very sick from the flu, and I had to bath and dress her, and noted her body was maturing very well. Chelsea had an athletic figure; she was short, but muscular, like a gymnast, and had a cute, firm butt, muscular arms and legs, and her breasts were already beginning to develop nicely. I took her to the store and had one of the ladies fit her for bras, and it seemed like every six months, we had to repeat the process, because she was developing rapidly.

She surprised me one day when she asked me what a “blowjob” and what “eating pussy” meant. She was aware, apparently, of oral sex; I had mentioned it to her as part of her sex education, but these terms puzzled her, and I explained they were just slang terms for oral sex. She told me the kids were talking about this, and some of the boys and girls at school were experimenting with oral sex, but she assured me she had not. We had an extensive conversation about this, and she promised me she would not be doing this with any of the boys from school. She did confess to me that she “occasionally” touched herself, and confirmed that she had experienced a great deal of pleasure from this, so I proceeded to explain an orgasm and what “cum” meant. I told her that this was normal, but she should only do it in private and not around others.

When Chelsea was almost fifteen, she was a knockout, and a number of boys were coming around and paying a great deal of attention to her. She was very popular in school and was a cheerleader. I recalled that when I was that age, she would have been my idea of the “ideal” girl, and I had a long talk with her about boys and their intentions, and again, got her promise to be very careful and to avoid sex until she was older. She again revealed to me that she had kissed a boy and he had touched her breasts and tried to touch her “down there”, and she had touched one of the boys cocks and it had “squirted” on her hand, but she had only done this once, and didn’t want to do it again, because the boy apparently told some of his friends, and they had teased her. This made me angry, but also gave me the chance to explain why she should be very selective about who she went out with and what she did.

Shortly after this conversation, Chelsea had her accident. While practicing a cheerleading routine, she had been thrown high in the air, but the “catchers” had missed and she had fallen and broken both arms. She was taken to the hospital and casts were put on both arms, from her biceps to her wrists, and her arms were generally immobile. I picked her up and brought her home; she would be out of school for several weeks to heal.

Once home, I had to be her nurse, and this meant dressing and undressing her, and as I found out, even bathing her and helping her with toileting.