RICHMOND, VIRGINIA: FALL 2005
Where'd those come from, I asked myself when I saw the burgundy colored panties lying among the pile of clean, white clothes I'd pulled out of the dryer and then just dropped in a pile onto my bed.
Huh, they're definitely not mine, I thought as I held the lacy satin up between my hands. I stretched them once, then again, and then drew them to my face where my nose picked up some still lingering odor on the just cleaned panties. A male scent?
Could one of my friends, maybe Laura or Jane, have inadvertently dropped them in my sport bag after phys ed today? And then I'd thrown them in with the wash? I knew immediately that was nonsense, both my friends invariably wore plain, white cotton shorts at school.
So where'd they come from? I'd never worn this style before. Curious I stripped off my sweats and underwear and tried them on. As soon as I pulled them up it seemed as though they'd been tailored especially for me. I liked the feel of them, low rise, cheeky boy shorts, a stretchy lace, a style I'd never used. They made me feel sexy.
I ran my hand down my stomach, let my middle finger trace my slit through the soft material, shivered as a moist spasm ignited deep in my sex. "Gosh, I should wear these always," I mumbled half aloud, then pranced over to the wall mirror and pulled my sweatshirt over my head. Quickly shed my white, cotton sports bra.
"I'm too sexy," I sang as I danced to my reflection, my long coltish legs moving rhythmically. Cupped and gently squeezed my full and jiggling, pink capped breasts. Then I noticed three or four rogue hairs that spilled from the lace edges of my new panties. I hadn't trimmed my dark pubic patch in months, the coming of autumn and the putting away of bathing suits had seemed to make it unnessessary.
I rolled down the panties a turn or two, exposing the full black triangle designed by nature to lead a man's eyes down to a woman's sex. I saw how I was open, spread pink, moist... wow, it was still mid afternoon. What are these panties made of anyway?
I turned and, looking back over my shoulder, watched how my firm, high, round cheeks peeked from the tight panties trying unsuccessfully to conceal them. Just the presence of the soft cloth on my body seemed to be exciting me more than the two boys I'd been leading on for the last three months.
I lay back on the bed and slipped my hand under the elastic and then moved my fingers over my sex. Faster and faster. Tried to think of my two boyfriends, but then strangely, just as the full force of my orgasm radiated outwards I saw a long, hard prick, a man's prick, in my minds eye. Then daddy's face slipped across my consciousness.
Daddy? Yuck! Not when I'm cumming!
I left them on as I did my homework, studied my math topless, was wet between my legs all afternoon. I left them on later while I cooked daddy's dinner.
"Hi sweetie, how was school. Soccer practice?"
"Good daddy," I answered as his arms engulfed me in his normal welcoming hug. "You smell nice."
"Uh huh," I answered even as I realized I'd never really noticed daddy's odor, his scent, his maleness before. Not this way anyway. "Are you using a new aftershave? Deodorant? It's nice... manly, sexy." God, what did I just say, I asked myself silently.
"Same old, same old sweetie. And do I smell brownies?"
"I cooked them specially... it's your last night... I wanted to..."
"I love you sweetie," he laughed as he lifted me in the air and spun me around, a game we'd played a thousand times since I was three.
"I love you too daddy," I squealed as I my crossed legs around his waist and threw my arms around his neck.
I felt my nipples suddenly stiffen; started to push them into his chest just before he lowered me to the floor.
"I'm getting to old for this, I can hardly carry you," he joked, a broad grin on his lips.
"Yeah right dad," I answered, both of us knowing how hard dad worked to keep his thirty-seven year old body in shape. At six-two and a chiseled one ninety-five, my father still had the hard athletes body he'd had winning football letters at U.V.A.
But then later, as we ate the meal I'd prepared, I kept asking myself, what is wrong with you, he's your dad. And yet I couldn't help but feel the dampness between my legs, the moist spot growing larger and larger on my new panties. Had to stop myself from looking at the bulge in the blue jeans my father had changed into. Wondered what it would feel like inside me.
The panties arrival in my wash would have remained one of those unexplained mysteries that occur to everyone, it would have, except later in the evening I went downstairs to get a soda.
Daddy was bent over in the laundry room, peering between the machines when I passed the door.
"Lose something Daddy?" I asked, still innocent.
"Oh sweetie," Daddy answered after jumping erect, a blush spreading across his face. "Darn socks... I seem to lose one every time I do a wash."
"Sock monsters," I laughed, agreeing even as the truth flooded through me. The flimsy cloth still girding my loins were daddies... somehow the panties I wore, panties even now still damp from my need, somehow these panties had only recently been fondled by daddy's strong hands.
Later that night I lay confused in bed as vivid images flooded my brain, images of an indistinct man stroking his immense cock with the same panties that were still resting tight against my throbbing sex. The same cock I'd seen at the moment of my orgasm earlier. It was Daddy's cock I knew now.
All night I tossed and turned, continually awakened by the imagined penetration of my virgin channel by my fathers prick.
Oh my gawd! This is sick.
The repeated knocking finally broke through my sleep. "Honey... honey... are you awake in there?"
"Dadddddy?" I mumbled as I slowly came to.
"Are you awake? It's late. Time to get up. You're going to be late for school."
He knocked again and then opened the door, and before looking in asked, "Are you decent? Can I come in?"
I pulled the sheet up so that it covered my breasts and then answered, "Uh huh, c'mon." Seeing daddy poke his head around the door I added yawning, "I forgot to set the alarm. What time is it?"
"Its seven fifteen, I gotta run," he answered as he crossed the room and sat on the edge of my bed. "My flights at nine."
"Oh gee, I forgot daddy, you're going to San Francisco today. A whole week, I'll miss you," I cried as I sat up and hugged him.
"You've got my schedule? Ginny said she e-mailed it to you. If you have any questions call her at the office, or check on my computer. You've got the password?" he asked with a smile.
"Yeah, like I'm going to forget my name," I said, knowing father only used one password- 'Gabriella'. The sheet had fallen when I'd hugged daddy and even as I talked I felt a wave of excitement roll through my body. Knowing he could see my breasts, my fat, now erect nipples. He's just your dad I thought but then was suddenly aware of his panties which I still wore. God, don't let him see them I prayed silently.
"When will you be home?" I asked, holding the sheet tight against my stomach.
"Friday. If you have any problems... well, you know who to call."
We both laughed. I called daddy for the slightest reason, always had.
"Can I drive you to the airport?"
"No honey, the service will be here any minute. I'll call you every night... e-mail you," he promised as he stood.
"Give me a kiss," I demanded. He got about half cheek and half lip but for the first time in the thousand of father/daughter kisses we'd shared I felt a frisson of sexual excitement. Dad was oblivious to it.
"Luv you," I whispered.
"You're my angel," he said standing again. But just before leaving the room he turned and asked, "Why aren't you wearing your pajamas anyway?"
And when I answered slyly, "I'm growing up daddy," I saw his eyes quickly flit to my quivering chest.
"Yes, yes, I think you are," he said with a shake of his head, and then added as he stood in the doorway, "Has your mom talked to you about... well you know?"
"About what daddy?" I asked grinning; my shoulders now pulled back to brazenly display my breasts.
"Uhh... you know... the birds and the bees stuff," he said grimacing.
"Birds and bees? Mommy?" I delayed, enjoying daddy's discomfort.
"Your mother... remember... that woman who lives in L.A."
"Do you mean sex daddy?" Seeing his embarrassed nod I answered, "She said you'd tell me everything... that it'd be better if a man explained the details."
"Your mother said that?"
"Maybe when you get home you and I can have a talk... I have a lot of questions daddy."
What is wrong with me? Miss Slut Tease with my daddy, I thought after he finally left.
My name is Gabriella Downing. Gabby. The first thing you should know about me is that I'm still a virgin. An eighteen year old certified American virgin. A good looking (beautiful?), tall teen whose black, silky hair cascades down my back almost to my small but perfectly rounded bum. A virgin whose hips and breasts had ripened into awakening womanhood over the last year. A girl who has increasingly felt the urge for sex.
No, you don't have to feel sorry for me because I'm still a virgin. Even though the Kinsey Institute reports that the average white, American girl loses her virginity at sixteen years, nine months of age, in my high school, in 2005, in upper class Richmond, Virginia, it wasn't either unusual or rare for an eighteen year old senior to still be intact.
.... There is more of this story ...