My daughter has grown up

This story takes place in the early 80’s. My wife and I had been at the tail end of the hippy generation, and when we met we were both enamored with the hippy lifestyle: free love, peace, happiness, all of that. When we moved in together, we decided our home would be completely nudist. If anyone wanted to come over, they’d have to strip down, just like us. It really wasn’t a problem since most of our friends were hippies, too, so on any given night, you could find us sitting around getting high, listening to records with four or five other naked people and it was no big deal. And while “free love” was definitely in full effect at our house, that’s not the story I’m here to tell, perhaps some other time. I do have to emphasize, though, that she always made any of her partners wear condoms, and I did the same whenever I was with someone else. We wanted to be sure that our first child was really “our” first child, not knowing that our precautions would also save us from the rash of stds that plagued a good number of that generation.

It was about eight months after we started living together that she got pregnant and we were both very excited about it. When we found out it was going to be a girl, we wanted to give her an earthy name, but knowing how cruel kids can be, we decided not to go too far out there where she’d be getting made fun of for the rest of her life. We chose Lily Rose, my wife’s favorite flowers. We never discussed whether or not we’d stop the nudity around the house, we just both assumed (correctly) that the other would want to continue the lifestyle, and try to raise our girl to not be ashamed about her body. We hoped that being raised nudist would eliminate all the hang ups people seem to have about sex, and let her lead a more carefree, fuller life.

Raising her as a nudist actually helped potty train her, as she wanted to walk around like mommy with absolutely no clothes, and therefore learned to control her bladder early. As most kids, she was curious about her body, what everything was for, and how it compared to her mother’s and to mine. She was fascinated by all the hair around her mother’s pussy, and she loved running her fingers through it. It wasn’t a sexual thing, she just found it a pleasant thing to do. When she was still learning about the differences between men and women, she would often grab my cock in her little hand and ask me to explain again what it was, and why I was different. Having been a nudist for so long, and being the hippy that I was, I wasn’t bothered by having her hold it, and I would calmly explain to her for the second, third or fiftieth time what it was for, and why I was different, and she’d scrutinize it for a bit, then go off and play with something else.

It came as a big blow when I found myself a single father after her mom died. She was crossing the street when a careless driver took her life. My daughter was eight years old, and motherless. My whole life turned around. I abandoned all my hippy ideals, and would’ve stopped the nudity, too, but my daughter cried and cried when I told her we’d start wearing clothes around the house.

She said “Mommy was always naked, I wanna be naked, mommy’s still here if I’m naked, daddy don’t make me put on clothes!”

How could I argue with that? I didn’t.

When she got her first period at 10, I again tried to end the nudity. It scared me when I would help her put in a tampon, that I could feel myself start to get hard. I hadn’t been with any women since her mother, I just didn’t have any desire, yet here I was getting hard while I spread her lips and inserted a tampon. Fortunately, she learned how to do it fairly quickly, so that was only a brief crisis. When I suggested that we should start wearing clothes, her eyes watered up, and she said, “Daddy, no…i-it’s mom…don’t you understand?” The only concession she made to her period was that she’d wear panties.

I let it go until she was 13, and get hair between her legs. She was very excited when she discovered she was getting pubic hair. She ran up to me and grabbed my hand. “Daddy, come here, you have to look. It’s so awesome, you gotta come look.” With that, she ran to her bedroom, with me following. When I got to her room, she was laying on her bed, her legs wide apart, gesturing towards her pussy. I had no clue what was going on, and she urged me to look closer. Her carpet matched the drapes, as they say, which didn’t make it any easier to spot her two or three blonde pubic hairs which had just started coming in. In fact, I was within licking distance before I saw them, and at that point, I was very intoxicated by the aroma wafting up from her lips, I almost forgot why I was between my daughter’s legs. I was almost in a trance, but I snapped out of it quickly when I heard her say “mom’s did?” I shook my head, to shake off the trance her pussy had put me in, and asked her to repeat herself.

“I said, ‘Do you think that when all my hair comes in, mine will look just like mom’s did?'”

I hadn’t really thought about it before, but with my face being so close and having been asked the question, I really looked at her pussy, then ran my fingers up and down her lips, in astonishment, and said, quite honestly, “Honey, it already looks exactly like your mother’s.”

She smiled hugely and spread her arms, begging for a hug. Never one to refuse her that, I climbed on top of her and hugged her tightly. She wrapped her legs around my back, and it was at that point that I realized that I was very, very hard. She hadn’t noticed it at that point. I’m about seven inches long, and very thick, and when I climbed on her, my dick ended up pointing at our feet, or it would have had I not been hard. As it was, it actually ended up pressing against the length of her sex, that’s why she hadn’t noticed yet, but it didn’t take her long to.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, honey?” I prayed she wouldn’t notice.

“Are you hard?”

“Oh, um…yes, I guess so, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” With that, I got off of her, and stood up to leave.

“Daddy, wait.”

“What is it, honey?”

She stood up and came over to me, her eyes darting from mine to my erection and back again.

“I haven’t seen you like that since mom died. I mean, in the morning, sometimes you’re a little hard, but I haven’t seen you really hard since before…”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just stood there.