The Lily Tattoo
The daughter's perspective
Author's note: This has been written in collaboration with my good friend and fellow Literotica author Tom, Lit ID tommanors.
My thanks to him for the inspiration and invitation to write my perspective.
Since having an understanding of what sex actually is, my feelings for my father have been influenced by matters that are not typically those of a teenage daughter.
Of course I could not discuss that with anyone and, in fact, it took me to my late teens to admit it to myself. However, once I had accepted that, I had, near continuously such lurid thoughts about him. I wondered all the time if he felt the same way about me. I knew that he loved me and that we were very close and I thoroughly enjoyed that, but that was as a father and daughter. What my teenage mind and body desired was him to love me as a woman.
After he and mum parted and I lived with her alone, I missed him terribly. He was in my mind most of the time and I found it awful waiting for the days, and nights, when I was allowed to visit him. We had the loveliest of times when I would go to his small flat. I imagined myself being his partner and I took on the typical wifely duties, well most of them like, washing, cleaning and ironing, but not, regrettably, the duty I really wanted to take on, being his lover.
That said, I think it nearly happened several times, but that of course may have been wishful thinking on my part. We did, however, often sleep together as the flat was so tiny and he had only one bed. Lying beside him in nothing other than a thin nightdress, I was continually tingling with a combination of expectancy, arousal and hope. Often our feet would touch, our arms might rub together and he would lean over and kiss me good night. When that happened, I desperately hoped that he would put his arms round me and pull me to him. Of course he never did.
I tried to encourage him. I left the bathroom door open hoping he would see me naked. I walked from there to the bedroom wrapped in just a towel, I wore skimpier nightdresses, shorter skirts and more revealing tops. Nothing seemed to work and I came to the conclusion that I was being silly and what I wanted simply did not happen, well not with a good man like my father. However, searching the Internet told me a quite different story. From articles, chat rooms and erotic story sites I learned that it did happen and relatively frequently too. I also learned, though, that often it was not the father who initiated anything, but the daughter. That gave me a lot to think about.
Being a bit of a geek at school, the boys I was closest to were of the same inclination. We all loved learning and helped each other, but they tended to be reserved and a little shy of girls. In many ways I wished I could have been less academic and could have been in with some of the other groups where the boys were not only more fun and better looking, but also more forward with their attention to the girls. Most of my classmates and the teachers as well, I think, looked on me as a 'good girl,' one where 'butter would not melt in my mouth.' They had no idea of the turmoil inside me as I wanted to let the sexual tiger that prowled in my mind and body out to devour the sweet, little lamb everyone knew.
So, compared to several in my class, I was a slow starter, but I picked up pace quite quickly.
I had lost my virginity nearly a year ago, just after my eighteenth birthday. Of course, I was in love with Will and it felt right to have fairly frequent sex with him for a couple of months before he went off to university. We professed our love for each other and promised we would remain faithful to each other as I waited the year for when I went to uni. That lasted a month or so when on a visit home he told me he had met another girl and wanted to finish.
That hurt me at first, but it soon passed and I went out with a few other boys before I met Alan. He was a tennis player at the club I went to. He was handsome, had a great body with a fabulous bum, was fancied by all the girls and the older women, was in his thirties and he seduced me.
He did that in his car one evening when we had played a match for the club. It was by far the sexiest thing that had happened to me for he stripped me naked, well apart from my glasses that is. I argued at first that someone might come, but he said we would see their lights for some time and I would be able to get dressed.
"If there isn't time, Lily you can just wrap this round you," he said holding up a men's raincoat.
I could hardly believe how different it was being with an older man, a more experienced man, a man as near the age of my father as he was to me, in fact a man who when he fucked me over the next few weeks became my father, at least in my mind.
It was dad's birthday. I wanted to spend that with him, be alone with him and if possible test the waters. More and more over the past few weeks I had thought of little else than making love to my father. Even the mere thought of it so excited me, yet at the same time filled me with guilt and shame.
I had what I thought was a great idea. I suggested to dad that we go to the seaside place where he and mum used to take me.
"Yes that's a great idea Lily, we could stay at that pub."
"Actually dad I have googled it and it is no longer just a pub, it's a gastgropub and no longer takes guests. By the way I have made a reservation there for your birthday dinner, just the two of us."
"How lovely, that's so thoughtful of you."
"And that's not all," I said logging on to my iPad. "As my birthday present I have booked this," I said showing him a shot of a lovely cottage that I remembered from my childhood.
"Wow that's fantastic, well done Lily."
He drove us down there, which took a couple of hours and even during that we had a great time. We laughed and joked, we sang, we played eye spy and talked and talked. It was late when we got there and we were both tired. Dad got the fire going and I scrambled a meal together from stuff we had stopped and bought on the way down. I felt very grown up looking after him and
sharing a bottle of wine with him.
Suddenly without really thinking I asked.
"Are you happy dad?"
"Of course, what makes you ask that?"
"You always seem to be under so much pressure, what with your job and now that you're on your own, it worries me a little."
From the look on his face I saw that he appreciated my concern.
"I'm fine sweetheart, honestly, you never ever need worry about your dad. What about you, how are things at home with your mum?"
"Good I suppose. I think mum's sort of relieved now that you've ended things with Jennifer," I said mentioning the ugly cow dad had been dating. That had made me very jealous too.
