At the Festival

At the Festival with my Daughter - Part 1

"Hey, Dad, what are you doing next weekend?" my daughter, Amelia, asked as soon as I picked up my phone.

I paused before I answered, "Um, nothing, why?"

"Well, you know how Rachel and I were gonna to go to CRSSD next weekend?"

"Yeah, sure, I remember you mentioning that," I said, tentatively. I had no memory of Amelia talking about going to CRSSD whatsoever. CRSSD is a weekend-long EDM festival that happens twice a year in San Diego - once in the Spring, and once in the Fall. I had actually been before, with Amelia's mother, but that was years ago.

"Okay, so Rachel can't make it," my daughter continued.

"I'm sorry to hear that, hun," I replied sympathetically.

"Yeah, it kinda sucks. We have two weekend passes, and we have a hotel room right across the street."

"Well, I'm sure you can find another friend to go with you, especially since it's all already paid for."

"That's why I'm calling, Dad. You should come with me. I know you and Mom used to go to CRSSD..." Amelia's voice trailed off.

"Yeah," I sighed. "But that was a lifetime ago."

We lost Amelia's mother, my wife, three years ago. Amelia was already in college on the east coast, so I dealt with the loss mostly alone. The first year was a blur of misery. The shock. The loss. The packing-up and moving-out. The loneliness of a one-bedroom apartment in place of a three-bedroom house. The next year was a slow and uneven march through the stages of grief. One step forward, and then two steps back. Three years later, I still missed Amelia's mother, but not every second of every day. It helped that Amelia moved back to San Diego after graduation because she motivated me to get out into the world. I had started surfing and going to the gym again, but I hadn't started dating. Maybe one day.

"Dad, it wasn't

that

long ago."

"Well, it

feels

like a lifetime ago. I was a different person then. Your mother and I, we, it was just different."

"And that's why you should come with me. You know, Mom told me that you two used to roll together."

"What?!?!" I said with non-convincing surprise. "We didn't...how...what...no we didn't," I said, lamely.

"Dad, you and Mom didn't hide as much from me as you think you did. I was a teenager. I wasn't a baby. Besides, Mom pretty much told me everything anyway," Amelia said with a hint of sadness in her voice. "She told me about the first time you took molly together at your first CRSSD, and how you made it like a yearly tradition."

I was speechless.

"Dad, it's fine. I'm not judging. The way Mom described it - I think once she said it saved your marriage. The way it made you feel more open and connected. It's cool. It's like you were doing MDMA therapy before it was a thing."

"Yeah, uh, I guess." What Amelia said was true, and her mother and I were adults, so why should I be ashamed of what we did together when we were married? And Amelia was 24 now, and she graduated from college and was adult, so why should I hide it from her at this point?

"And she said the sex on molly was AMAZING!" Amelia said with a giggle. I think Amelia could hear the gears of my mind grind to a halt, and her giggle turned into a full-throated laugh.

"Amelia! I..." I couldn't form a sentence.

"Dad, relax. I already told you, you guys didn't hide stuff as well as you think you did. I know about the toy drawer. I saw all the party outfits you got Mom. I know you two went to Blacks Beach and Sea Mountain all the time. You were hot and in love." Amelia paused. "I hope I have all that one day."

I didn't know what to say. The best I could come up with was, "Yeah, of course. I'm sure you will."

"Anyway, Dad," Amelia continued, sounding almost annoyed that our conversation got side-tracked, "I thought about it, and I think we should go to CRSSD together. We don't have to go both nights if you can't hang. But I already have the passes and the hotel."

"I don't know, Ames. Are you sure you wouldn't have more fun with somebody else?" I adored my daughter, and since we lost her mother, spending time with her became my favorite thing in the world. At the same time, I felt the weight of loss sit heavily on my shoulders. Was this some kind of pity invite? What if I ruined her good time?

"Dad," Amelia's voice became serious, and I could almost see the stern look on her face through the phone. "I want to go with you. So, come to CRSSD with me next weekend." It wasn't a question.

"Of course. You know the answer is always 'yes' to you," I said with warmth and affection.

"I know." I could hear my daughter smile through the phone. "I gotta run now. But we'll talk later. Love you."

"Love you, too."

I stared at my phone for a moment. I was suddenly feeling conflicting emotions. Memories of CRSSD with Amelia's mother sent my heart racing. Whenever we did molly together, we found new ways to be honest with each other, to listen to each other, and to accept each other. We would stare into each other's eyes and get lost in our own little world in the crowd. We would kiss like teenagers and spend hours just caressing each other as we danced and swayed to the music. And when we would get back to our hotel room, the sex

was

amazing. Everything was more electric, wetter, hotter, harder, and softer at the same time. The excitement I felt from anticipating going to CRSSD again was tempered by sadness. I knew I wasn't going to experience it in the same way because I wasn't going with my wife. I was going with my daughter.

********

"Hey, Dad. I'm all checked-in. What time do you think you can get here?"

"Um, I'm finishing packing now. Maybe an hour?"

"That's fine. I'll take a shower now and start getting ready. There's a key for you at the front desk. See you soon!" I could hear the excitement in Amelia's voice.

"Love you, Ames."

"Love you, too, Dad."

I wasn't sure why, but I had spent the last week getting ready for this weekend the same way I used to get ready for CRSSD with Amelia's mother. I don't know if I thought I would meet somebody, or what, exactly. I know I didn't want to look like some creepy old guy with a date half his age, though that is pretty much what I was going to be. I wanted to look good, like I belonged with the crowd of hot, young ravers. I wanted my daughter to be proud to be seen with me, I guess. I got in some extra workouts and really watched my diet. I had to admit that, for a guy over 50, I was keeping it together. I had nice shoulders and a broad chest. I wasn't super-chiseled, but I actually had visible abs. I also got a haircut to tighten-up my neckline and clean-up some strays. Fortunately, I still had hair on my head, though it was graying at the temples. I even did some manscaping, that week, too. I trimmed and shaved, leaving my cock, balls, and ass completely smooth.

I had packed and repacked probably a dozen times that week as well. I wasn't sure what to wear, so I definitely over-packed with several options. Since I didn't have travel-sized toiletries, I ended-up packing full-sized bottles of shampoo and mouthwash. I was going to be spending two nights away, in a hotel that was 20 minutes from my house, and it looked like I was going to be out of the country for a month. Whatever. It was time to go.

Checking-in at the hotel was easy. And familiar. Amelia got a room at the same hotel her mother and I used to stay at when we went to CRSSD. As I took the glass elevator to the fifth floor in Tower I, I admired the view of the San Diego waterfront. It was early in the afternoon, and the festival had already started. I could hear the bass through the glass, and I could see the colorful throng of people below streaming toward the front gates. Though CRSSD discouraged full-on rave wear, people definitely dressed-up. As the elevator stopped, I could hear voices outside. Before the elevator doors fully-opened, a crowd of young festival-goers started to stream-in.

"Wait, this is my floor! I gotta get off!" I exclaimed, worried that I would get stuck in the elevator before I could get out.

"Oh, dude, sorry man. Hey, give him room," said a handsome man in a fluorescent zebra-striped shirt. The young crowd - decked out in short-shorts, micro-skirts, crop-tops, fishnets, mesh, day-glo colors, glitter, and sunglasses - tried to give me space as I squeezed through. I couldn't help but press against the tan skin that was exposed by the revealing outfits.

"Have fun at CRSSD!" I said as I started walking away.

"Right on, man. Will we see you there?" asked the young man in the zebra stripes. His easy and friendly nature suggested he was already rolling. I suspected that if I could see though his sunglasses, his pupils would be the size of dinner plates.

"Yeah, I just gotta grab my date and get changed," I said with a laugh as I turned away.

"Oooh, the zaddy has a date," I heard behind me tease as the elevator doors closed.

I walked down the hall until I got to room 525. As I put my keycard in, I could hear music and singing. Clearly, Amelia was out of the shower and having a good time as she got dressed.

"Ames, I'm here!"

"Yay, Daddy!" Amelia bounded out of the bathroom in the hotel's fluffy white robe, and she threw herself into my arms. As we hugged, I could feel the warmth of her naked body move beneath the robe. Amelia ended our hug by giving me a kiss on the cheek, and then she dragged me into the hotel room. The room had two queen beds, and one of them was covered with an explosion of bright and skimpy outfits. And I thought I had over-packed.

"Okay, Dad, open the champagne! I need to finish getting ready. What do you need to do?"

"I, ah, would like to shower and shave," I said as I scratched the stubble on my chin.

"That's fine. I can finish my make-up out here."

I popped open a bottle of Veuve Clicquot that was sitting in the hotel's ice-bucket and poured two glasses. Ameila even brought champagne flutes.

"To..." I paused.

"To having a great time with my favorite person in the world," Amelia said as she raised her glass towards mine.

"Yes, to that," I said, with a lump in my throat. "To my favorite person." We each downed our champagne and sighed, almost with relief. We paused for a moment. Despite the loud music from the festival coming in through the open balcony of our hotel room, we both felt very much at peace. As the bubbles of the champagne finished tickling our throats, we could each feel a weight being lifted, and we both started to laugh.

"Okay, Dad, I need another glass."

"Me, too," I said as I refilled our champagne flutes. I sipped my second glass of champagne, and I began to unpack. I could hear Amelia rummaging around in the bathroom. "Ames, are you sure you want to get ready out here?" I asked.

Amelia came out of the bathroom with her arms and hands full of make-up, combs, and brushes, and she set everything down on the dresser. "Yeah. Your shower will fog-up the bathroom mirror, and you need the sink to shave. Besides, there is a mirror out here, and I can hear the music better."

"Okay." I gave my daughter a kiss on her forehead and headed to the shower. I stripped naked and was about to step into the shower when I heard my daughter call my name from the bedroom.

"DAAAAD!"

"What?"

"Can you leave the bathroom door open? I didn't get all of my make-up, and I'll need to use the blow-dryer."

"Yeah, sure Ames, it's fine," I replied as I slipped behind the shower curtain and underneath the warm water. Amelia didn't respond, so I just focused on my shower. It felt good to wash-off the day, and it felt especially good to soap up my cock since it was smooth. I took a long shower, and when I finally turned the water off and opened the shower-curtain, my daughter's reflection was staring at me in the bathroom mirror.

"Hey, Dad," Amelia said, not even batting an eye.

"Shit!" I exclaimed, fumbling for a towel. I stood there, naked and wet, for what seemed like an eternity before I finally got a white hotel towel wrapped around my waist.

"Can I just finish curling my hair here, and then you can have the sink and shave?" Amelia asked, continuing to curl her hair as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Um, yeah. I just wished you'd warned me that you were in here." I grabbed a second towel to dry my hair.

"Oh, sorry. I thought you heard me come in." Amelia was completely nonplussed. Maybe she didn't actually see me naked after all. She might have been so focused on her hair that she didn't notice me getting out of the shower.

"No, it's fine. I'm going to finish drying-off in the bedroom and throw some shorts on. I'll be back when you are done."

"Actually, I'm done," Amelia announced with a twirl. "How is my hair and make-up?"

I was stunned. Amelia had always looked more like her mother than me, and now it was like seeing her mother all over again. Amelia's honey blonde hair fell in delicate waves just past her shoulders. Her pale blue eyes shined behind thick eyelashes that were accented with shimmering mascara. Her full cupid's-bow lips were painted vixen red, and her smile was wide.

"Wow. Ames, you are gorgeous. You look just like..." I couldn't bring myself to say that Amelia reminded me of her mother.

"I know," Amelia said. "You don't need to say it, Dad. But, you like it?"

"I love it. You look amazing. I will be the envy of every guy at CRSSD."

"Yeah, you will," said Amelia with a laugh. "And if those girls, and some of the boys, saw what I just saw, well, they'd be pretty jealous of

me."

I could feel my cheeks warm as my skin flushed red with embarrassment. I didn't know if I should take the compliment or try and assert some boundaries between father and daughter. "Thanks?" I said, with uncertainty.

"Oh yeah," Amelia continued. "You're definitely holding it down. I can totally see what Mom was talking about. And I love the smooth look, by the way," and then Amelia walked out of the bathroom, leaving me paralyzed by my thoughts.

My daughter definitely saw me naked, and she noticed I was shaved. Apparently, she and her mother talked about my...my...me, and Amelia was complimenting me. Complimenting it. Complimenting me on it. I was confused, but aroused, and ashamed for being aroused. You know what? I was being too uptight. We were both adults. We've had some champagne, and my daughter made a good-natured adult joke. It's fine. It's fine. I'm going to shave, comb my hair, and then my daughter and I are going to CRSSD together. No big deal. It's fine.

When I walked out of the bathroom after I finished shaving, it wasn't fine. Amelia was wearing a holographic skater skirt so short that the curves of her ass-cheeks and the bright pink gusset of her thong were completely visible. She was also wearing a tight, white, completely sheer crop-top that enhanced the perfection of her C-cup breasts.

"Oh, good, you're done," Amelia said as she bounced toward me. Her hard pink nipples strained against her sheer white top. "Can you help me put these on? I want to make sure they're even." Before I could answer, my daughter pulled-up her shirt, leaving her pert breasts and pink nipples totally bare, and she handed me two sparkly star-shaped pasties.

Seeing my daughter like this caused my mind and body to stop communicating with each other. I dropped the pasties and started to get an erection under my towel. I bent-down to pick up the pasties, and as I stood up, my daughter's pink thong was at eye-level. Like the pasties, it was sparkly. It was also so small that it barely covered my daughter's pussy lips - she apparently liked the smooth look on herself as well.

"Are you sure you can't do it? I'm not sure I can get them on even," I said quietly.

"Dad, I'd have to hold up my shirt, hold back my hair, hold the pasties, and look in the mirror. Can't you just do it? I trust you." Everything my daughter said sounded factual and reasonable, but the situation I was in seemed unreasonable. And my erection had created an obvious tent inside the towel still wrapped around my waist. Amelia could sense my hesitation. "You know what, it's fine. I'll do it myself." She sounded annoyed.

As Amelia reached for the pasties in my hands, I suddenly felt bad, like I let her down. "No, no," I said. "Of course I'll do it. You know the answer is always 'yes' to you."

"Thank you, Daddy," my daughter said with a smile. She gave me a soft kiss on the cheek, and her bare breasts pressed briefly against my shoulder. Then my daughter turned and presented her naked breasts to me. "You know you can touch me, right? I mean, you kinda have to, to put these on."

"Right, yeah. No, I just, ah, want to be respectful."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Please. You're my dad. It's not like that. And I'm a big girl. I make my own choices, and I never do anything I don't want to. Okay?"

My daughter's little speech actually made me feel a bit better. "You're right, Ames. Come here, and let me put these on." The second I touched my daughter's breasts, the conflicting emotions returned. My erection instantly grew harder than it had been in years. I tried to ignore it as I centered each sticker over each of my daughter's pink nipples, but the towel around my waist started to loosen.

"Oops, let me get that." Amelia reached down with one hand to grab my towel before it fell, and her hand briefly brushed against my hard cock. She was completely unfazed by the incident, and she stood patiently as I smoothed the pasties down over the skin of impossibly perky breasts.

"Okay, all done," I said with a sigh of relief. "Now I just need to get dressed."

"About that, Dad," Amelia said as she admired my handiwork in the mirror, "I'm pretty sure you don't have a ton of rave outfits, so I actually picked out an outfit for you. It kinda matches mine, since we're like a couple." My daughter seemed pleased with the pasties, and she pulled her shirt down over them.

"Ames, you didn't have to do that."

"I know, I wanted to. So, can you try it on? Please? Oh, and let's finish that champagne!" I poured the last of the champagne and my daughter laid my outfit on the bed. It was a button-down shirt with a silver holographic pattern that mimicked her skater skirt, and a pair of ultra-soft pink shorts that matched the color of her pasties and thong. We would definitely be a couple.

"Wow," was I could say.

"You'll wear it, right?"

I paused. "Of course. The answer is always 'yes' to you." My daughter beamed. "Let me just grab some underwear."

"Oh, no, you gotta go commando! The shorts are soooo soft. It'll feel great. Especially since you shaved," Amelia said with a knowing look. "That's why I got them for you."

I realized resistance was futile, so I pulled the shorts on under my towel, and put on the holographic silver shirt. After some deodorant, some cologne, and a final sip of champagne, my erection subsided and I was ready to go. Amelia touched-up her make-up, packed her shiny belt bag with whatever we needed for the day, and spritzed on a cloud of perfume.

"You ready to go, Ames?"

"Yeah, but can we take a few pictures first?"

"Of course. Where do you want me?" I didn't realize what "a few pictures" really meant. We took selfies in front of the mirror and on the balcony. I took pictures of Amelia and her hair, her make-up, and her outfit. We took pictures with our sunglasses on. Sunglasses off. Smiles. Serious. Silly. Posed. I was half-convinced that we weren't even going to CRSSD - we were just going to take pictures all day.

Finally, my daughter said, "Okay, Dad, let's go." The ride down the elevator was crowded, the walk to the festival was short and slow, and the check by security was superficially thorough. And then suddenly, we were at CRSSD.