The Beach House

Hi. I'm George, 47, and divorced. This is a strange story, well, for me. My life has taken a few turns that I never expected and, as such, was ill-prepared for. Up until two years ago, it was very normal. I was married. Louise and I raised two kids, Bob and Jesse, sent them off to college, attended their weddings, and took great pride in our life.

My marriage, well, that was the first turn. Louise and I had a pretty hot sex life. When Jesse got married, she was second, her brother had married the year before, something changed. To make a long story (which would be a good one for this site if I could get Louise to tell it.) short, Louise met Becky at the wedding and they eventually became lovers. I was unaware of this. Obviously, our sex life diminished, a lot, and eventually, we sat down and had, 'the talk'.

When Louise confessed, I was angry. She got angry. The whole scene was awful. Becky had turned my wife into a man-hating activist lesbian. She let it all go at me. I finally just got up and left, got a room, didn't sleep.

I got back to the house the next day. Louise and her belongings were gone. Later I was contacted by a lawyer and terms, which were much better than I expected, were worked out. That was nice. But I was a damaged man. My view of women had been changed. I could have worked through it. I've come to admit that, if she had wanted, I would have welcomed Becky into our lives. But Becky was a man-hater and my wife fell into line, so that would never happen. Plus, some of the things Louise said were vicious. I no longer trusted women, but I still wanted them.

So, I sold the big family home and got a small place at the beach. I settled into a celibate life. I travel a lot for work, so being single is a plus and has gotten me another promotion that changed my travel destinations. That led the second turn.

I was due to attend a conference near Jesse and her husband Frank's place. I talk, text, etc. with both she and her brother, and I let her know I'd be in town. She insisted I stay with them. I told her my flight was arriving in the early hours on a Sunday, so she gave me the code for the door. I'd been in the house before, so I knew the layout. They live in the suburbs, more like country, they have five acres and the house is surrounded by deep woods.

Two weeks later I woke up in Jesse and Frank's house. It was ten-thirty in the morning. I heard voices, so I threw on my travel clothes, my bag was still sitting unopened on the floor.

When I turned the corner into the living room, I noticed that Jesse and Frank were entertaining another couple. By entertaining I mean everybody was naked and my daughter was riding the cock of an older man, late thirties? Frank had the woman on the ottoman, her legs bent back against her body, and well no other way to put it. He was fucking the shit out of her. I hardly noticed him. I couldn't stop watching my daughter.

She's tall and lean, not skinny. My little girl has just enough curve. Her breasts aren't huge but certainly big enough and she doesn't shave her, well, pussy. Her nipples are long, really long and her chest and face get red when she's sexually excited. She talks too. Things like "Fuck me, Ralph, I love your fat cock, I'm so fucking wet."

I learned all this watching the four of them fucking. Jesse didn't see me as I stood and watched. She's beautiful and has the sex drive my wife had before she changed sides. I knew it was wrong. I was invading their privacy. Jesse's breasts jiggled as she rode the big cock. I occasionally masturbate, not much, kinda lost interest. My cock, I noticed, was rigid. I opened my pants and took out my cock, riveted to the lascivious display. I told myself to go back to my room, this was wrong, I stayed. My hand moved and then I was masturbating watching my daughter have sex, fuck, fuck, a big cock. They changed position. Now he was behind her. I saw her gaping wet red pussy as he shoved his cock in. Her firm young breasts hung down and swung as Ralph pounded my daughter's pussy. She groaned. My mind took a picture, a horrible picture, but it was too late. I came, I came so hard. I wanted to catch it, but Jesse turned her head and I had to duck back, orgasming to the vision of being where Ralph was right now.

I quietly went back to the room, took my bag, and slipped out the back door. As I was doing that, I noticed my cock was still hard. The emotions I felt, shock, disgust, shame. But also, I was excited. I got a room, went to my conference and then back home. I ignored the messages and calls from Jesse.

Louise and I had a great sex life, until. But it only included us. No porn, no swinging just two people. I had never even thought of swinging. I thought the idea was dangerous and my life experience reinforced that view. I was disappointed in Jesse and Frank. Fact was, I was in turmoil. I hadn't been with a woman since Louise and my view of them was suspect. I was a celibate worker bee, happy to bury myself in my job. Until now.

I had gotten hard watching my naked daughter have sex. I had shot an enormous load of cum on her carpet. I felt guilty, dirty, but horny. Jesse had given up calling and texting, but she did send an email. It was a week before I read it.

"Dad, I'm so sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I forgot you were coming and with you arriving in the middle of the night by cab I didn't know you were there. Please understand that was not planned.

That being said, I'm not going to apologize for what we were doing. This is our choice. Not that you want to know but these are the only people we do this with. They are husband and wife also. I know you're a very traditional man and mom's leaving was a hard blow. Seeing us, I'm sure just made it worse.

Can we please pretend this didn't happen? I want my dad back. The guy I talk and text with.

Jesse"

I sent a text, "Back home. Conference was boring. Going out to sit on the beach for a while."

"Thanks, dad." Was the reply.

We both did just that and our relationship was healed. But I didn't ask to stay at the house when I was in town, though I did stop by for dinner with both of them.

When I sat at their table, I pictured my daughter, naked, fucking, groaning, cumming. I couldn't deny it and it got worse. I kept replaying it in my mind and could not get it out. I was masturbating twice a day now. I'd found a porn vid that looked like her. In was ashamed but I couldn't stop.

I started seeing a counselor. I had to. My obsession was affecting my work and I had no social life.

Unusual for his line of work, not that I know that much about it, he was very straightforward. Many men lust after their children. If the child is young, this is very bad. But he pointed out, you and your daughter are both adults. He said, just take it easy on myself. This will probably fade over time. He said I needed to find a woman to take the focus off my daughter. He also added that it was very important that I not get the stupid idea that she might be interested, that, in his career, had caused a lot of heartache and anger.

The next turn was a big one. I signed up for dating sites and one adult dating site. I was single, nothing to hide. I met a few women on the regular sites, but nothing clicked. I started chatting with a woman on the adult site. Chantel and I had crossed paths in a chat room where I tended to let myself go and be very randy. Louise had been my first and I was clueless with women, so this room was my outlet. Turns out that the 'real' me is a fun, interesting, sexy guy. Chantel was thirty. Funny, raucous, no filter. Since the room was anonymous, she just let fly and called them as she saw them. We started chatting in a private room. I told my marriage story. She admitted to occasionally bedding women. That put me off. I nearly stopped talking to her. She didn't give up. Told me I needed to get over the man-hating cunt and realize that I was a good-looking, well-hung (yes, we traded naked pics) guy and that she was bi-sexual, but preferred men. I couldn't get enough of Chantal. She was better than the counselor. But she lived 1200 miles away and was fifteen years younger than me.

Then came the next turn. One day Chantal confessed that she had started seeing a man out there. She said that she was going to have to get off the site and focus on him if it got more serious. Then she took my breath away. She said, come and visit. I want to experience you before we have to part and before I'm committed to another. I bought a ticket and reserved a room in record time.

She arrived at my room Friday night, with a suitcase. I let her in as she explained that she had to work Monday and needed to have the right clothes. I was hoping for one night with this amazing woman. I got the most exhausting weekend of my life. She was tall, five-ten, big, not fat, very in shape, firm. Large breasts. Part Cherokee, her hair was so black it was nearly blue, like her eyes, and the skin was dusky. She had expensive, detailed tattoos, not a lot but in interesting locations.

We tore up that room for two days. I lived on room service, Viagra, and her pussy, which came like a flood. When we weren't fucking, we talked. Two very different people, but for this weekend, we clicked. Chantal analyzed me, probed, dug, and finally got me to admit my deepest shame. Her response to my fearful confession, "That's it?"

A few years ago, she had a brief affair with her brother. They both moved on, but they knew that each would do it again if the time was right. Chantal's take, "If your daughter wants it, what will you do?"

Chantal left me an exhausted ruin Monday morning. But an invigorated, self-assured, confident ruin. She told me our correspondence had to end but to send her a note if anything happens with Jesse.

Chantal's question kept running through my mind. She, like my counselor, said that it was okay to fantasize, but that I needed to leave it to Jesse if she wanted me. Nothing in my relationship with my daughter gave me any indication that incest was on her mind.

After what I have come to refer to as 'The Big Weekend", I had a much better idea of what I was looking for in women. I overhauled my profiles, posted new pictures, (no nudes) taken by Chantal, and started looking for a life-mate.

At the same time, I masturbated every night to that video of the young woman who bore a striking similarity to Jesse. No, it was not her in some secret thing, just another internet mom, being bad. But, now, I didn't feel bad about it. That lasted a week until the next turn.

Jesse called. Frank is an Officer in the military. He was due to rotate out to a post in the Middle East for six months. Because of where it was, Jesse could not go. I sympathized, she acknowledged that it was the life of a military wife. Then she said she was going to have to find a place to live. They were in post housing and with him overseas and no kids, the military told her they needed the space. Once again, I sympathized and said, 'you'll find something.' She knocked me back when she quietly asked, 'can I come stay with you?'

I had adjusted to my unnatural desire. Her request struck fear into me. Would I be able to, well, behave? Was this going to be a nice time to bond with my daughter or will it be torment and danger? I knew I had to do the right thing and hope for the best. I said yes.

Jesse took over my second bedroom. The rooms are small and the climate warm, so she had put most of her clothes in storage, along with the furniture. We had a great first night. I made dinner, we talked, ignored 'the event', and took a walk on the beach. I told her about the area and mentioned that she should be aware there is a clothing-optional area of the beach. Really just giving her the 411 as they say, and it was received in that manner.

We were back at the house when I asked what her plans were and what she had for breakfast.

"Dad, I'm barging into your life here. You're wonderful but please don't treat me like a guest. I'll get whatever I want, and we'll work out food and whatever. I've got job interviews in the morning and should have a position by the end of the day. Just do what you normally do."

Well, what I normally do is set my coffee to automatic the night before and have my breakfast sitting on the beach, in my long shorts, Guayabera shirt and straw hat, watching the sun come up. It has a very calming effect on me. Almost no people, just me, the rising sun, and the birds.

What happened that morning is I slept late. It happens. I had a big project and had opted to work from home for a few weeks. That permitted a more flexible schedule. Jesse was gone to her interviews so I could enjoy my morning as I did before her arrival, nude. After breakfast, I headed back to my room where I had set up a workstation. I glanced in Jesse's door. There it was.

A light blue thong. Carefully laid out on the floor. I stopped and stared at that tiny garment like it was an alien. The gusset was a shade or two darker. I knew what that meant. Her soaked thong laid out on the floor, in plain sight. I knew what that meant too. I picked it up, put the gusset to my face. She smelled slightly musky but clean. The gusset was soaked in her spend. I stood in my daughter's room and masturbated with her drenched thong against my face. I was going to cum. I panicked and quickly moved to the bathroom and ejaculated a huge slug of cum into the sink, nearly buckling from the feeling. I still felt guilty, even though I knew, well I thought I knew, she had intentionally left her thong for me after she had masturbated and cum on it. I put it back on her floor, the way I thought I found it, but a little rumpled. Nothing was said, by either of us.

There I was the next morning, right on schedule, in my chair, as the sun came up. I noticed a runner, way up the beach. Nobody else in sight. I watched. It was a woman. She had a nice pace. Then I noticed she was naked. Lean runner's body, her breasts moved but not much. I was slumped down, with my hat low when she got closer and I discovered, yeah, it was Jesse, running naked on the beach. We weren't in the clothing-optional section, but she had come from that direction. As she passed, I kept my hat low and said nothing. But I reveled in the vision.

After the sun rose, I folded my chair and walked back home. Jesse was in the kitchen, dressed, having her breakfast. She heard me enter as she worked at the stove.

"Dad, you were out? Thought the old man was sleeping in again."

I thought to myself, 'yeah I'm sure you did.'

I walked through the kitchen, with my chair. Jesse turned, blushed, and dropped her head. She knew. I needed to lighten the mood and create an out.

"I go out to watch the sun come up. Sometimes I see it and sometimes I fall back asleep."

We both laughed, nervously. After a breakfast of mildly strained conversation, Jesse went off to her first job interview.

We were having dinner that night, late, out on the deck. The night sky, a shotgun blast of bright stars with a waning moon. Even at ten, still very warm. As she predicted, Jesse had a job and we discussed her new job and mine. As we finished the bottle of wine there was a pause in the conversation. A small light in the kitchen cast shadows around our plates and glasses. A light breeze fluttered our paper napkins. Jesse spoke in a quiet voice.

"How do you feel about nudism?"

The next turn was here. I was stunned by the question. We had never spoken about this and after 'the event' nothing adult entered or conversation. I needed to be honest.

"I have no problem with it at all. Recently I've started going to the clothing-optional section and I've made a few friends."

Jesse sipped and looked at me over the rim of her glass, "Not the dad I grew up with."

"A lot has changed, my daughter."

She smiled, "So I see. You seem a lot happier. What happened?"

"I met somebody online."

"Really? Do I get to meet her?"

"No, it's over. We were circles in a Venn diagram. We overlapped and had an amazing, and for me, enlightening time, but we both knew it was temporary. But it changed me."

Jesse leaned back, "So, my buttoned-down old man now walks around the beach naked." She laughed lightly.

I sipped my wine, "Yes, yes I do. It's the new me."

"I like it, dad, I like it a lot. Frank and I are nudists, mostly at home. We vacation at nudist resorts too."

I was not surprised, "It's a nice feeling."

Our conversation went elsewhere and soon we called it a night and went to bed.

I decided to let her have the beach the next morning. I got up at the same time but had my coffee in the kitchen. I was clattering my dishes in the sink when I heard her coming out. Another turn.

She walked into my kitchen nude. I was just in loose boxers. I stared, couldn't help it. Jesse noticed.

"I seem to be unable to avoid having my father see me naked. After last night I figured what the fuck. Do you mind?"

What am I going to say? 'No, my daughter, don't walk around naked because I will try to stick my cock in you?' What I said was, "No, not a bit." I laughed, nervously, "I guess you're right. We're both adults."

Jesse looked right at me, "Yes, we are, aren't we?"

She walked in and opened one of the lower cabinet doors, "You got a blender, dad? I want to make a smoothie."

Not two feet in front of me. Bent over, legs slightly spread. I could see everything. She shaved now. Her pussy was a little open, maybe wet? Had she been masturbating? Her butt ring was tight. I couldn't help it, my cock started to grow. I pulled myself up close to the table.

"Next cabinet over," I said.

"Thanks' dad. Want some?"

Oh, fuck yes, I wanted some, but I knew what she meant, "Yes, make two, please."

She stood back up and turned to face me, "I like some in the morning, ya know?"

The double entendre's were killing me. But I had to be good.

Jesse stood in front of me, holding the blender, looking at the edge of my boxer underwear. "You gonna join me?"

I sat at the table, my cock rigid, "Let me ease into this, okay?"

"Sure dad, I understand." She gave just the hint of a smile as she turned to the counter and started slicing fruit. What did she mean, "I understand?"

We had smoothies with no side of double-edged conversation. Jesse went off to get dressed for work and soon left. I spent the day nude, thinking of her, and training myself to stay at least partly soft.

I was nude when Jesse got home. She stopped after coming in the door and sized me up. I fought to remain un-excited.

"Hey, you're holding up pretty well for an old guy."

"That's a compliment, right?" I answered.

Jesse laughed, "Oh hell yeah. Let me go change and throw on some shorts, dad, let's go to the beach."

As we walked on the beach, chairs in hand, we got to the signs.

"You ready now?" Jesse asked.

"Yes," I replied.

We walked past the signs, stopped and I dropped my shorts and my daughter flipped off her tee and dropped her shorts. Neither of us had bothered with underwear. Almost like we knew. She tucked it all in a small string bag she threw over her shoulder. We walked down the beach, father and daughter, naked. She took my hand.

"This is nice, dad."

"Yes, it is," I replied.

The beach was still busy. As with most nude beaches, it was a lot of older saggy people and a few younger ones. We had a nice afternoon and stayed till the sun was sinking.

Back at the house, Jesse tossed the bag on the couch. We stayed naked. I visually devoured my daughter. The way she moved, the muscles just under her smooth skin. The peek-a-boo looks at her shaved pussy. Her nipples, hard. Her scent, salty, fresh. I did pretty well, but my cock stayed half-hard no matter what. Jesse said nothing.

Dinner was cedar plank grilled salmon, couscous, and sautéed spinach, with a large bottle of white wine. That same small light from the kitchen, just barely enough to see. As we ate, I glanced at my daughter's breasts, the dim light casting shadows of her nipples on the soft skin. Jesse prodded me and I told more about the details of my divorce from her mother. Becky, my ex-wife's lover, was the mother of one of Jesse's good friends. They have been estranged ever since and Jesse wanted my views on her trying to rebuild the friendship. I thought it was a good idea. It wasn't her fault that my wife and her mother fell in love.