Note: You will notice that I set many of my stories in the sixties. I do that because I think the internet has robbed people of their innocence and naïveté, especially young teenagers. After all, they can watch porn and learn all about sex, so they don’t go through the same experimentation and learning process as was previously the norm. I love writing about the learning and experimentation part of it. Also, teenagers drinking and smoking was more accepted, but drugs, even marijuana, while prevalent in the larger cities, never made their way into small-town Texas.

My very short journey into exhibitionism began with honorable intentions. My severely drug-addicted mother overdosed and died six months prior to my graduation from junior high. That left me living in a testosterone filled home with my dad and twin brothers who were a year and a half older than me.

Mom’s death hit all of us hard, but it affected our dad the most. He was a total mess for months. Thankfully, by the time school let out for the summer, he had begun getting himself somewhat back together.

I was an early bloomer. Years earlier, my brothers would tease me about my “bumps” and sometimes thump them with a finger. By the time I turned thirteen though, they weren’t teasing me anymore. They just stared at my boobs all the time, even though I did nothing to encourage that. By my fourteenth birthday, which was a few days after I graduated from junior high, they were totally fascinated with my boobs. I even caught Dad looking now and then.

I guess I shouldn’t blame them. At five six and ninety pounds soaking wet, I could charitably called “slender”. “Skinny” was probably more accurate. So when I say my chest had developed into thirty-four DDs, a big portion of the “thirty-four” was boobs.

I had very dark brown, almost black hair. I wore it fairly short, well above my shoulders. That was at the insistence of my hairdresser. She said I was too “slender” to wear it long.

As far as our household chores, nothing really changed when Mom died. She hadn’t been helpful around the house for over a year. The boys took care of the lawn and pool, and I did almost everything inside the house, including the cleaning, laundry and the cooking.

One day, while doing the laundry, I noticed something strange in Dad’s laundry. The front of his Jockey shorts was all crusty, and there were even crusty stains on his sheets. I had no idea what it was, so it caused me concern. I finally shrugged and put them in the washer.

It was two weeks later when I noticed the crusty stains again. While I was pondering what it might be, the twins walked by the laundry room on their way out to the garage.

Even though they were identical twins, Ben and Bruce couldn’t have been more different in their personalities. Bruce was very confident and outgoing, while Ben was shy and reserved. Ben was easier to talk to, so I called him into the laundry room.

When I showed him the stains in Dad’s underwear and on his sheets, Ben let out a chuckle. “What?” I asked him.

“He’s having wet dreams.” Ben told me with another chuckle.

“What does that mean?”

Ben laughed and then told me, “When I finish cleaning the pool, I’ll explain it to you.” And then he turned and continued his journey to the garage.

It was about three hours later when Ben found me and told me to follow him. I was just vacuuming, so it was no problem dropping what I was doing and follow him downstairs.

When we got to the den, Ben went to Dad’s wet bar and began mixing two drinks. That wasn’t a first for me. We’d all had drinks made with whiskey the night Mom died. It did confuse me though. In the laundry room, Ben laughed off what I’d found, but now he was acting all serious, even to the point of making drinks.

He didn’t say a word until we were mostly finished with the drinks, and then he cleared his throat and said, “Okay, here goes. Are you ready?”

I shrugged, “Yes.”

“Okay, I’m not going to sugar-coat it. A man needs to ejaculate regularly. Do you know what that means?”

I thought I did, so I said, “It’s what makes babies during intercourse.”

Ben nodded, “That’s right, but when a man isn’t having sex regularly, he still needs to ejaculate now and then. That’s why boys masturbate regularly. You understand what that is, right?”

Again, I thought I did, so I nodded, “I think so.”

To his credit, he didn’t tease me. Instead, he smiled and said, “It’s when a boy uses his hand to simulate a vagina and having intercourse.”

I’d finished my drink, so Ben got up and mixed us another one. While he was handing me mine, he continued, “When a man isn’t having intercourse regularly, and he doesn’t masturbate, his body will ejaculate on its own, usually at night, and usually as the result of a sexy dream. That’s why it’s called ‘wet dreams’. Do you understand?”

I did, so I took a big sip of my drink and nodded.

Ben smiled, “Good. What you saw in Dad’s underwear and on his sheets was his semen that was produced by his wet dreams. It’s perfectly normal. He could keep that from happening if he’d masturbate.”

“Why ... why doesn’t he ... do that?”

“A man needs to be horny to masturbate. It’s easy for boys. We’re horny all the time. When a man reaches Dad’s age, there has to be something to make him horny enough to masturbate. I guess he just doesn’t have anything that makes him horny.”

“Is that why you have the dirty magazines under your mattress?”

Ben looked shocked, so I added with a giggle, “I change your sheets, remember?”

“Well ... uh ... yes. We like looking at the pictures while we do it. That makes it easier.”

I pondered his answer for a few seconds, “Then why doesn’t Dad have magazines?”

He shrugged, “I guess he just hasn’t been in the mood since Mom ... you know.”

For some reason, that just made me sad, “I feel sorry for him.”

Ben nodded, “Yeah, me too.”

“I wish there was something we could do to help him.”

“Well, there’s nothing me and Bruce can do ... that would be up to you.”

I didn’t understand at all, “What can I do?”

My brother took a big swig of his drink, and then he showed me a stern look. He seemed to be deciding what to say. Finally, he asked me, “Bev, do you know what it is in those magazines Bruce and I look at while we’re masturbating that helps us?”

I shrugged, thinking the answer was obvious, “Naked women.”

Ne nodded and then pressed me, “What part of the naked women?”

Again, I thought the answer was obvious. I had flipped through the magazines, so I knew all of those women had big boobs, “Boobs?”

He grinned, “That’s right, and you have awesome boobs.”

That really confused me, “But how ... what do my boobs have to do with Dad masturbating?”

My brother drained the last of his drink and got up to fix himself another one. I was only half finished with mine, so I wasn’t ready for one. Still, his tone and body language caused me concern, so I gulped down the rest of mine and carried my empty glass to the wet bar. While mixing our drinks, he seemed to be still deciding how to answer my question.

While still standing at the wet bar, he finally let out a big sigh and said, “You could stop trying so hard to hide them—at home, I mean.”

That sent my brain whirling. I didn’t say anything until I was back sitting on the sofa. I was thankful for the alcohol, even though the drinks were very weak—much weaker than those we’d consumed on the night Mom died. Finally, I thought I figured out what Ben was getting at, “So, if I understand what you’re saying, you think my boobs will get Dad in the mood to masturbate, right?”

“Exactly”, Ben said, and he raised his glass as if toasting me for understanding.

A thought hit me, causing me to giggle. Ben asked me, “What?”

“Are you sure it’s Dad you’re thinking about, or do you just want a better look at my boobs.”

He got defensive, “No, it’s Dad.” And then he let out a chuckle, “Of course, Bruce and I wouldn’t mind it.”

I showed him a scolding look, “I’m not going to run around the house topless.”

“No, no, I didn’t mean that. You have T-shirts, halters and tank tops. If you wear them without a bra, I’m sure that will do the trick. Maybe you could buy a bikini and wear that instead of your one-piece swimsuit.”

I sat silent for a long time while I pondered the idea. I was feeling a little tipsy, my extremities tingling. I was skeptical. I was his daughter, after all. How could my going braless get my dad in the mood to masturbate? I sat my drink on the end table and got up. “I’ll be right back.”

I went upstairs and stopped by the bathroom to pee, and then I went to my room. I looked through my closet, finally deciding on a light blue tank-top. I doffed my bra and put on the top, then appraised myself in the mirror. Did I have the guts to actually leave my room like that? I let out a big sigh and said out loud, “Here goes nothing.” And I turned and headed downstairs.

Fortunately, Bruce was not around. When I entered the den, I was shaking all over. I stopped and held out my arms, “Like this?”

My brother was just sitting there with his eyes wide and his jaw open, “Wow!”

That put me a little more at ease. I giggled, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I was just starting supper when Dad came in. He parks in the garage, so he entered through the door between the garage and kitchen. I glanced around just in time to see him stop in his tracks. I greeted him as if nothing was different. After a few seconds, he composed himself, cleared his throat and greeted me. And then he hurried past me and out of the kitchen.

I was obviously still feeling the affects of the whisky, so when he was out of earshot, I let out a giggle.

Supper that evening was interesting, to say the least. Dad tried unsuccessfully to disguise his staring. Bruce didn’t. He blatantly stared at my boobs. He even said at one point, “I love the new look, Bev.”

I shot back at him, “Ben got me drunk and dared me.”

Ben defended himself, “It wasn’t a dare. It was just a suggestion.”

Dad cleared his throat and then told them, “Boys, your sister should be free to be comfortable at home. And then he looked right at me, “Your Mom ... when she was younger, she hated wearing a bra, so she rarely did, even in public.”

I almost choked on the bite of food I was swallowing. When I composed myself, I said, “There’s no way I’d go out in public without one. I get gawked at too much as it is.”

Bruce spoke up, “With good reason.”

When I looked at him, he was grinning and still staring straight at my boobs. He even offered to help me do the dishes when supper was finished. That was definitely a first. Of course, I declined his help.

That night in bed, I tried to imagine my mom going out in public without a bra. Her boobs weren’t quite as big as mine, but they weren’t small by any stretch.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could see the look on my Dad’s and brother’s faces as they gawked as me. My fingers unconsciously found their way under the hem of my panties and began teasing my pussy.

I’d done that often, but never achieved more than some very nice tingles. That night was different. Only a few minutes in, my urgency grew until I was rubbing my clit very firmly. When I quickened my pace, I had what could only have been an orgasm. Pleasurable sensations began in my clit and flowed over my entire body. I was very proud of myself.

Prior to going to sleep, I promised myself that I’d never wear a bra at home again.

The next morning, Bruce caught me just as I was coming out of my room. I was wearing a halter. It covered my boobs totally, but I loved they way they jiggled and swayed when I walked. After staring at my boobs for a few seconds, he showed me a warm smile, “Ben told me what you’re doing and why. I think it’s great that you’d do that for Dad.”

And then he handed me some money, “That’s from me and Ben. You can buy some new tops that will ... help you in what you’re doing.” And then he chuckled and added, “Of course you should know; we have an ulterior motive.”

I let out a short laugh and headed downstairs, but I did look over my shoulder and said, “I know”, and I giggled all the way down the stairs.

When I looked at the money he’d given me, I had to gasp. It was fifty dollars—plenty to by a variety of tops.

Breakfast went about the same as supper had the night before—minus the discussion about my attire. Dad barely took his eyes off my boobs.

After the breakfast dishes were done, I went up to my room and put on a bra and a regular blouse. And then I walked the half mile to the ladies clothing store downtown.

It took me almost an hour to make my selections. Every time I tried on a top and appraised myself in the mirror, I asked myself, “Would I have the guts to wear this around the house?” I selected four tops and a rather revealing bikini.

When I put my purchases onto the counter, the owner of the shop looked at the tops and then at me. She’d known me literally all of my life, as is often the case in small town Texas. She looked like she wanted to say something, but settled for giving me a scolding look as she rang them up.

It was a fifty-fifty toss up as to who would be home first, Dad or Ben. Bruce was pulling an evening shift at his part time job at a local service station. I went to the den and fixed myself a mild drink, and then went up to my room to change.

Thirty minutes later, I was in the pool. I was wearing my new bikini. I had to trim my pubic hair a little so it wouldn’t poke out the sides of the bikini bottom. It was white, and the thin material of the top struggled unsuccessfully to contain my large boobs. There was a substantial amount of flesh bulging out the sides, especially the round insides.

The first time I jumped into the water, the bikini top came up over my nipples. I made a mental note to be careful about that in the future.

Dad got home first. He must have looked out of the window and saw me in the pool. I heard the sliding door open, and a few seconds later, he was standing beside the pool. “Oh, hi Dad. How was your day?”

“SSDD. New swimsuit, huh? You’re full of surprises this week.”

“The boys gave me some money to go shopping.”

“Oh did they now? Hrm, I can’t imagine why they did that.” And he let out a hardy laugh.

I giggled, “Dad, I’m not that naïve. I know good and well why, and so do you.”

He rubbed his chin, “And you don’t mind that?”

I decided to make a bold move. I walked up the steps, grabbed my towel and started drying myself, “Nah, I’m cool with it.”

“Okay” he said skeptically, and then he turned and went into the house, still shaking his head.

I had a feeling he might go to the wet bar for a drink, so I headed that way. Sure enough, he was indeed mixing himself a drink. I’d left my towel outside. “I’ll have one too, if you don’t mind.”

Dad shot me a sideways glance, “Okay, but a mild one. What’s for supper? I smell barbeque.”

“Yep, ribs. They’re in the oven. They’ll be ready in an hour or so.”

While we were standing at the wet bar, I have to give him credit. He was doing a good job of looking at my face. I only caught him slipping a couple of times.

“Please tell me you’re going to change before supper.”

I decided to tease him, “Oh, you don’t like my new bikini?”

He rolled his eyes, “It’s ... uh ... nice. Yes, it’s nice.”

I forced a laugh, “Nice wasn’t exactly what I was shooting for.”

“Oh, and just what were you shooting for?”

I giggled, “Sexy.”

“Well, you did achieve that. How many drinks have you had?”

“Just one, why?”

“Just curious.”

“Can’t a girl want to look sexy without being drunk?”

He tilted his head, “Of course. It just ... well ... it’s not like you.”

“Are you complaining?”

That garnered me a chuckle, “Uh ... no, not at all. It’s just going to take me awhile to adjust to your new attitude.”

I took a large gulp of my drink, “Actually, it’s going to take me awhile too. I never thought I’d enjoy it, but I do.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh, and what are you enjoying?”

I laughed out loud, “Do you really want to know?”

He shrugged, “Sure.”

I took another sip of my drink and looked him right in the eyes, “Watching your eyes bug out and the boys getting all tongue-tied.”

He looked shocked, “My eyes? Bev, I’m your father. I’m not supposed--”

I cut him off, “You’re still a man, aren’t you?”

“Yes, but--”

“But nothing. You’re a man, and you like my new look. That’s all that matters.”

Dad didn’t have a response to that. He just downed the remainder of his drink and sat about to mix himself another one. I did the same, and held out my empty glass to him. He showed me a skeptical look, “Are you sure?”

“Hell, I could barely taste the whiskey in that one. Please make this one a tad bit stronger.” And then I told him, “After I finish this one, I’m going back into the pool. You should put on your swimsuit and join me.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Why? Are you afraid to be in the pool with a girl in a bikini?”

“No, I’m afraid my old generic heart can’t take it.”

I giggled, “You don’t seem to be having heart trouble right now.”

He let out a loud laugh, “I’m doing my best not to look.”

That caused me to laugh too, “And you’ve been ‘mostly’ successful ... mostly.”

“You’re enjoying torturing me, aren’t you?”

I giggled again, “Yes ... yes I am.”

“Whew! The new you is going to take some getting used to. I’m not sure when the boys will be home.”

“So?”

He drained the last of his drink, “Okay, I give. I’ll go change into my swimsuit and meet you in the pool.”

I waited until he was out of the room to finish my drink and mix another one. Of course, I mixed it a little stronger than he had—not enough to take my breath away, but a little stronger. I took my drink outside and sat under the umbrella. I wanted to wait on him.

While I was waiting on him to come out, I contemplated what I was about to do. If Dad needed something to get him in the mood to masturbate so he would stop having wet dreams, I was determined to give him that.

When he came outside and saw that I wasn’t in the pool, he turned up his palms in question.

“You go on in. I’ll join you in a minute.”

That said, Dad jumped into the pool. I waited until he was near the shallow end, and then I gulped down the rest of my drink, stood up and walked slowly to the edge of the pool. I almost giggled when I saw that he was watching me intently.

I jumped in at a spot I knew would allow my boobs to be visible when I surfaced and stood up. While still under the water, I confirmed that my bikini top had indeed pulled up above my nipples. I even pulled it up just a little higher. And then I surfaced and stood up, pretending I had no idea what had happened to my bikini top.

Dad’s eyes were bugging out. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was looking at my boobs. After several seconds, I looked down. “Oops, sorry.” And I pulled my top back where it should be. And then I immediately started swimming laps.

When I finished a few laps, Dad was just treading water in the middle of the pool. I swam up to him, “Sorry about earlier.”

He didn’t ask what I was referring to, “That’s okay. It happens.”

“Today’s my first time in a bikini. It’ll take some getting used to.” And then I giggled, “I guess your old generic heart is stronger than you thought.”

He laughed out loud, “I guess so. If it survived that, it should be okay.”

“Oh? Seeing your baby girl’s boobs was that much of a test was it?”

He showed me a scolding look, “You’re hardly my ‘baby girl’ any more.”

I pouted, “Just because I grew boobs?”

“Uh ... well yes. That’s part of it.”

“Oh? What’s the other part?”

“Your newfound ... whatever it is ... attitude.”

I decided to challenge him, “Tell me you don’t like it, and I’ll stop.”

“No, no, it’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s ... hell, I don’t know what it is. A father shouldn’t see what I saw a few minutes ago—not with a teenager, and not one who has ... well, you know.”

“Not one who has what, big boobs?”

“Uh, well yes.”

“Dad, maybe it should bother me that you saw them, but it didn’t. It actually kinda turned me on.”

“It did?” He asked in an incredulous tone.

I laughed, “Yes, and if it happens again, that’s not going to bother me either. Of course, I could always make sure it happens again.”

He looked like he’d just been hit in the head with a sledgehammer. Finally, he managed to mumble, “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Why? It turned me on, and it looked to me like you enjoyed it to. So what’s the problem?”

“Bev! I’m your father, damnit.”

I knew I was treading on thin ice, but I couldn’t help myself. I wasn’t lying about it turning me on. “So, if it happens again, you’re not going to look?”

“I uh ... hell, Bev. Like you said earlier, I’m still a man.”

I giggled, “Finally! You actually admit it. So can we stop pretending now?”

“Pretending?”

“Yes, Dad, you can stop pretending that you don’t like looking at me, and I can stop pretending that it was an accident.”

“You ... you...”

“Yes, Dad. I did that on purpose.”

“For God sakes why?”

“I’m tired of treading water. Follow me and I’ll tell you.” And I immediately swam toward the shallow end. When I got there and turned around, Dad was indeed following me.

When he joined me in the shallow end, I had another idea, “If you really want me to answer that honestly, go mix us both another drink. We’ll stay in the pool while we drink them ... and put enough whiskey in mine so I can actually taste it.”

He looked like he was about to protest, but he changed his mind and crawled out of the pool. A minute later, he disappeared into the house. In truth, I needed time to think about my answer. I wasn’t sure how much I should reveal about my motive.

By the time he returned to the pool and handed me my drink in a plastic cup, I’d made up my mind.

“Well?” He prodded me.

I took a drink from the cup, and it was strong enough to take my breath away. “Much better.” I told him. “Now, to answer your question; Dad, I do your laundry. There were stains in your underwear and on your sheets the last several times. I didn’t know what it was, so I asked Ben. He explained to me about wet dreams and what causes them ... and what you have to do to stop having them. You need to masturbate, and I’m determined to make sure you’re motivated to do it.”

He looked so stunned; I’m surprised he didn’t drop his drink into the pool. After maybe thirty seconds he said, “So that’s what this is all about, huh—the new attitude?”

“I love you, Dad, and I want to help. Ben assured me I have the tools to put you in the mood to do what you need to do, and besides, I never would have thought so, but I’m having fun doing it.”

Finally, his expression softened, “Well, you’re definitely accomplishing your mission.”

“Now that we don’t have to pretend,” And I pulled my bikini top up all the way to my neck. “You don’t have to pretend not to look.”

He did look, but while he was, he said in a sincere tone, “Girl, you had your mission accomplished when we were still standing in the den.”

I let out a short laugh, “I’m glad I didn’t know that. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have pulled up my bikini top the first time ... or now. It’s fun.”

Without pulling his eyes from my boobs, he let out a wild laugh, “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

Finally, reality hit me, “The boys will be home anytime. I need to go check on the ribs.” And then I walked up the steps with my bikini top still pulled up. I dried myself and then turned back to my dad. I showed him as sexy a look as I could muster, and then slowly pulled my bikini top back into place.

I had a bit of a headache the next morning, but I forced myself to get out of bed early. I pulled on some shorts and one of my new tops, a white tank top. It was so thin; you could clearly see my boobs, especially my nipples and areolas.

When I got downstairs, Dad was just pouring himself a cup of coffee. After telling him good morning, I asked him straight out, “Well, did you do what you were supposed to do?”

His face grew instantly red, but he said as he was setting his coffee cup on the table, “I did.”

I hurried up to him and threw myself into his arms. I gave him a warm kiss on the lips, and then pulled back and said while looking him in the eyes, “I’m very, very proud of you.”

He chuckled, “It was all your doing.”

I giggled, “I know.”

Before the boys got downstairs, I told him, “Call me before you leave work this afternoon.”

He showed me a quizzical look, “Okay, but why?”

I giggled again, “You’ll find out when you call.”

Dad had just left when the boys got downstairs. Bruce let out a loud wolf whistle, and Ben used his hand to fan his face. I let out a giggle, “I guess you two approve of the new top you bought me.”

“Damn straight!” Bruce exclaimed, and then Ben seconded his twin’s reaction.

Breakfast was fun.

When Dad called and told me he was on his way home, I purred into the phone, “I’ll be in the pool ... and Dad, I’ll be totally naked.”

There was a few seconds of silence, and then he asked me, “What about the boys?”

“What about them?”

“Are they home?”

“Not right now, but neither of them are working today, so who knows.”

He responded pensively, “Ooookay.”

When Dad came out back, I was in the pool, and as promised, I was totally naked. God! I loved swimming totally naked. The water made every nerve in my body come alive. I had to giggle when I saw the two plastic cups in Dad’s hands. Of course, he didn’t know I’d already had two medium strength drinks.

He squatted down at the edge of the pool and gawked at my nakedness. I leaned back and floated on my back to give him a good look at my pussy.

“I’m going to go change into my swimsuit.”

I giggled, “You don’t need one on my account.”

He chuckled, “Yeah, right,” And he headed inside.

When he returned wearing his swimsuit, he sat on the edge of the pool, watching me float on my back. And then I stood up and walked over to him, holding out my hand for my drink. While handing it to me, his eyes never left my boobs. I was glad he wasn’t trying not to look.

While walking up next to my dad, I happened to glance up just in time to see Ben looking out of his bedroom window. I just showed him a smile, and then I said to Dad, “Ben’s watching us out of his window.”

Dad chuckled, “He’s probably up there jacking off.”

“Jacking ... what’s that?”

He showed me a knowing smile, “Masturbating. We call it jacking off.”

I giggled, “Oh. Well then good for him.”

“Good for him indeed.”

And then Dad did something that shocked me. He said, “Give me your hand.” When I did, he pulled it to the front of his swimsuit and pressed it to him. His penis was standing up, and it was really hard. “That’s what looking at you does to me.” And he pulled my hand away.

My tone was serious when I asked him, “Does that mean you’ll be able to mastur—jack off?”

He chuckled, “Yes it does. In fact, I’d go do it right now if I knew you’d still be out here when I get back. It’ll probably only take me a few minutes.”

“Great. Go do it then, I’ll wait for you. Bring me another drink when you come back.”

When Dad disappeared into the house, I immediately looked up at Ben’s window. He was still there, so I showed him another smile and a little wave. And then I moved back from the edge of the pool so Ben would have an unobstructed view of my naked body.

Just standing there for him like that made me really horny. I wished he’d come down and get a closer look. I made a mental note to make sure he got a close up look in the near future.

As promised, Dad reappeared in less than fifteen minutes with a fresh drink for me. “Looks like you’ve been giving your brother a good look.”

“Yeah, after all, none of this would be happening if he hadn’t taught me about wet dreams and how to stop them.”

He shrugged, “I guess that’s true. I owe him big time ... and you. I feel like a man again.” And then he totally changed the subject, “You know, your mother used to have a full bush like yours. When we got married, she started totally shaving.”

“Her pubic hair?”

“Yep.”

“Which did you like better, full bush or totally shaved?”

Dad chuckled, “Hell, no contest. I loved the totally shaved look ... and feel.”

“I’m getting waterlogged. We should go inside.”

Dad helped me out of the pool and watched me dry myself. “You going to stay like that?” He asked me when I headed for the house.

I giggled, “That’s the plan. I need a few minutes though—thirty or so. Will you wait for me in the den?”