My ex-wife grew up in the Seattle area. Most of my family lived halfway across the country, but hers lived within a couple of day's drive of where I lived. When we divorced, she moved to the East Coast to be with her new lover. That was fine, both with me and many of her family members. I got to keep the house -- a nice three bedroom place with a view of Puget Sound and a private back yard.
I liked her brothers and they liked me, even if their sister was a slut who couldn't keep her legs together. We still considered ourselves family. Her oldest brother had three kids and their home was in Spokane. When it came time for the oldest daughter to start college, she was accepted at the University Of Washington in Seattle. She was a natural beauty. With her raven black hair and golden complexion (inherited from her Vietnamese mother), I knew she'd have a lot of college boys drooling over her. So it was with some misgivings that I consented to let her stay with me for at least her freshman year. I told her and her dad that she would be expected to obey my rules or I couldn't take the responsibility. They both agreed.
In a private conversation later with her dad, Frank, he told me whatever I said was to go with Sylvie. He let me know that he and her mother knew that Sylvie was sexually active. They had the enlightened attitude that she was going to do it anyway, so they might as well not make it difficult for her. She was on the pill and knew all about safe sex. One of her going away gifts was going to be a box of condoms.
"Just so you know, Dave," he added, "for when you're drawing up the rules of conduct. She hasn't had too much experience, but I suppose she'll go a little wild over there. We actually want her to get laid -- for the experience and emotional growth -- as long as she doesn't get pregnant or sick." I thanked him for telling me. I'd been wondering how to deal with that aspect of things. This made it a lot easier.
She called at the end of May asking if she could come over and move in earlier than August. She wanted to see about getting work in the area. I said it was fine with me. I hadn't quite finished the list of rules. It wasn't too long a list so far. Especially since I could be open about the sexual stuff. I decided I would prefer for her to have some input on things anyway. I should interject something here. I am a practicing nudist. My ex-wife wasn't fond of the idea, though she didn't mind me spending most of my time at home nude. I only became socially active after our divorce. This was one of the things I needed to discuss with Sylvie.
Sylvie drove up to the house in her little blue pickup on a Sunday morning. The back was packed and covered with a plastic tarp. After big hugs and kisses, I helped her haul her stuff into the house and down the hall to her room. A couple days after Sylvie arrived I decided it was time to discuss the rules. One of the rules was that she was not to drink since she was underage. Whenever she was staying home at night, however, I told her she could have a couple of beers or glasses of wine. Unless she was going to refrain from alcohol, she needed to learn her own limits. So one night, after homemade pizza and over a beer, I laid out my list for her to read and discuss.
The only one she had a reservation about was letting me know where she was whenever she went out. After I pointed out that an emergency could arise at any time, she saw my point. Then I cleared my throat.
"Sylvie, there is something I want you to know. I'm a nudist." I hadn't known what to expect as a reaction from her. She was looking at my face when I said it. Her eyes widened for a second, then crinkled in amusement. She broke out laughing. "What? You can't picture an old man like me running around naked?" She shook her head and regained control.
"No, Uncle Dave. It's just that I was raised that way! In Vietnam, as in Japan, there is a tradition of family nudity. This is great! We always hated that we had to put clothes on whenever you and Aunt Joanne came to visit. If we'd only known!"
"Well, with Joanne, it was still necessary." I explained how things had been. She sympathized with me.
Then she surprised me by whipping off her top, baring her small but nicely shaped breasts. "Might as well get comfortable, then," she said, stripping off her shorts and panties. It was sudden, but it was, after all, what I wanted -- for her to be comfortable with my nudity. So in another minute we were both sitting at the table in our skin. We talked a little bit about my expectations, including her sexuality. I asked her to always allow me to meet her dates, just as she had had to do in high school. Not because I didn't trust her, but because I felt the need to let the guys know that I was interested in her welfare.