Daughters Are Not For Giving Away


Circassians are people whose native land is round about the Caucasus mountain range. My husband, our daughter and I are Circassians who live in the U.S. We are originally from the Eastern shores of the Black Sea. My husband and I emigrated to the U.S. soon after our country left the Soviet Union. Our daughter Oona was born here in the States. We speak our language Karbardian at home. You would not have heard of it. Most of the world has not. Our daughter speaks it too. I speak English haltingly. I learnt English in my village school. My teacher taught us the English of England. I still spell words as they do in England. I write English is short sentences. I write as I would in a school essay. I cannot use slang. Moreover I am not writing direct speech. Speech in our language does not lend itself to translation into English. If you have difficulty in reading my story you have to excuse me.

Circassian women are famous for their beauty. In our country Circassians women have a bad reputation. They are not to blame. Rich men are ever ready to exploit poor women who are good looking. I am only average in looks, but my daughter is a beauty. She has an army of admirers in school. She does not encourage them.

My family back home practised nudism. There are many nudist clubs in the Black Sea coast. We used to belong to one of the smaller clubs. On weekends in summer when the weather is warm we all go to an enclosed beach near our home. There many families, men, women and children will shed their clothes and spend the time as free as wild creatures. I like nudism. All the families that took part lived in amity. The practice of nudism was the reason for it. No one has anything to hide from the other. It was an open community.

I met my husband in one of these meetings. It is amusing to recollect that scene. When an aunt first introduced me to the man who was to become my husband both of us were nude. You may want to know if he had an erection then. He did not. What I now tell will surprise you. I have never seen an erect penis in the hundreds of hours I had spent in nudist camps. Once you shed your clothes you become as innocent as a child. You may want to know if such familiarity to nudity will lead to impotence. It does not. I will tell you what happened in our marriage night. Like most women in our place I was a virgin when I married.

After the wedding my husband and I went to a resort near our village for our honeymoon. It was not a resort for nudists. After dinner that night in the bedroom we hugged and kissed. This was of course was not the first time we had kissed, but never have we hugged or kissed in the nude. The rule in our colony (and I believe in most nudist colonies) is not to show affection when in the nude. Even hand holding is taboo.

Victor, my husband, then requested my permission to undress me. I looked up and smiled. It was a tender moment. He kissed me and then he undid my top. He went for my bra clasps when I stopped him. I requested permission to undress him. He laughed and agreed. It seems that what I asked for was against our custom. I removed his shirt and then boldly I unbuttoned and pulled down his trousers. (He was wearing drawers underneath.) It was a bold act that got him into love frenzy (I have made up this word). He now undid my skirt and then unclasped and removed my bra. He said ‘Wow’ when he exposed my breasts. He has seen my breasts countless number of times but to see it during the honeymoon night brought forth the exclamation. I hope you understand how different nudity in the bedroom is from the nudity in a nudist colony. When he removed his drawers I saw his erect organ. It was a thrilling sight.

I have seen hundreds of adult penises but it was for the first time I was seeing one erect. I asked his permission to hold it. He tilted his head with an amused smile. I gripped his penis as if it was a foot ruler. It was hot. He pulled down my drawers. He knelt down and kissed my vulva. He then opened the lips. I asked him why he was doing that. He said he wanted to see if I was excited enough to secret love juice. That is what he called it. He opened the lips with two index fingers and peered in. I asked him if he was satisfied with the quantity I was secreting. He said he was. He had better be for I was pouring. He protruded his tongue. He looked up and inclined his head in a gesture of asking for my consent. I smiled widely. He then proceeded to lick.

His tongue is long and he flicked it in and out like a cat. It was delicious. I sat on the edge ankaraescortbayansitesi.com of the cot and lifted my legs. He then licked my clitoris. He was on top of me. I received him into me. I felt my hymen giving way but I felt no pain. The next morning my husband pulled out the sheet. He was fascinated by the blood spot on the sheet. I asked him if he was going to hang it out on the fence. He laughed. It seems in our village in the days of our grandparents it was the custom to hang out the blood stained sheet on the fence on the morning after nuptials. I believe it added prestige to the husband’s family.

In the States we practice nudism at home. We are not members of any club. We do not feel comfortable being nude amidst strangers. In our country we knew all the families who participated in our club for several generations. Many were relatives. The fact of the matter is that after almost two decades in the U.S. we have not integrated with the locals. Yes, from time immemorial we Circassians have been a very insular community. Unfortunately we do not know of any of our community close to where we live in Oregon. We are thus on our own. On weekends the three of us will remove our clothes and go about our chores. Oona has practised nudism all her life. We keep this a secret. There is no point in telling people who are sure to misunderstand. Oona grew up a healthy and intelligent girl. She is above average in studies. She is old fashioned in her ways. Her teachers and her school mates think well of her.


It was Oona’s eighteenth birthday. But we her parents are young too. I married when I was eighteen and Oona appeared within a year of marriage. I am now 37. My husband is a few months older. My husband and I wanted a large family. But I never conceived again. Oona’s eighteenth birthday turned out to be the most important in the lives of all three of us. We usually ask her for the gift she wants for her birthday. It was an occasion to give her new things. When she was four it was a bicycle. Last year it was cell phone with camera. This year we expected her to ask for a laptop. We were ready for it. She said she would tell us on the morning of her birthday. We pointed out that the day being a Sunday we may not be able to get her what she wants. She said she was aware that it was a Sunday but it did not matter. It was to be a surprise—for us!

Her birthday morning was a cool day with clear skies. It would have been a perfect day back home for the nudist park. Here in the States it had to be indoors. Our practice is to have a bath and come out in the nude. We would not wear any clothes till late in the evening. In the nude Oona and I would prepare breakfast. After breakfast Victor would clean up. Work is easy when unhampered with clothes. This morning was no different except for our greeting kiss to the birthday girl. My husband and I darted glances and waited. Oona was aware of our excitement. From time to time she would close her eyes and smile and sway her head. The outside world knows her as a serious person. But she had a thick vein of humour in her. Then she burst her bomb shell.

She was brief. She said that as we had no bodily secrets from each other she wanted to see her mother and father have sexual intercourse. Those were the words she used. In our family we have no use for the four letter world or its many Karbardian equivalents. We called the female genitals the vulva and the male organ the penis. We freely use those words too. I was astounded at Oona’s request. My husband on the other hand laughed out loud. His eyes were twinkling with mischief. He must have enjoyed my discomfiture. Probably he liked the idea. Naughty man! I blushed and I frowned, and then I agreed. I will not say I liked it, but I was not averse to it. To me who practised nudism ever since I can remember this was not in the American language a ‘big deal’. There was no question of when we were to perform. It was to be now.

Victor and I exchanged glances. We then turned to Oona. She sat on a stool at the edge of the cot. She was deadly serious. May be tense too. I wondered if she had requested a performance from us as a course in sex education. Victor had to make the first move. He did. He came close and pecked me on the lips. We were in the nude and as per our custom we never make physical contact with each other when practising nudism even at home. By this peck on the lips he signalled that we had changed modes. I turned my face up to receive his kiss. He placed his hand under my breasts and weighed them.

I am certain Oona has never seen an erect penis. When he plucked both my nipples his penis showed the first signs of life. I took my hand to his penis and stroked it. Then I gripped it gently. His penis was now hard and hot and the veins over it were tense. I darted a glance at my daughter. Her eyes were on her father’s erect penis. There was no possibility of eye contact. I lifted up a breast and Victor accepted the offer. He took the nipple between his lips and bit on it. A thrill passed up and down my spine. I clicked with pleasure.

I must say that our daughter watching made it special. It added a new dimension to the sex act. He worked on one nipple and then the other. The time was ripe for more. I lay back on the bed with thighs widely separated. I held his head with both hands and pushed it down towards my vulva. He climbed on the cot and settled between my legs on his knees and elbows and started licking me.

I have already spoken about his tongue. It is not only long but he can manoeuvre it. For example he can fold it on itself. He can also touch the tip of nose with his tongue. Circassians have long shapely noses. He now licked as never before. He swept along the minor labia collecting the secretions there. Then with the sharp point of the tongue he probed under the clitoral hood. He found the sensitive tip of the clitoris. He worked on it till I screamed softly. Oona stood up for a better view. I noticed that she was secreting love juices too. It had already spread out on to her labia. Victor speeded up. He pushed me to the peak, and by slow wide swipes of his tongue on the clitoris he dropped me down the precipice. I screamed. This time my screams were loud.

I pulled him up. I just could not wait. I guided his penis in. My vagina was so sodden that his penis went it with a plop. We had orgasms in unison. Victor waited and pumped again and again to give me two more. We lay exhausted in each others arms.

I turned to Oona. Her eyes were wide open. I thought she was in hypnotic trance. She sat on the stool with her feet resting on the edge of the cot. Her thighs were apart. Her vulva was glistening with secretions that had flowed out of her vaginal glands. Some had spread on to her thighs and more wetted the lovely tuft of black curly hair on her pubis. My girl must be having glands more powerful than mine. Our eyes met. She turned away guiltily. This was something new. We were so open as a family that guilt never was a feature in our relationship. I waited for her eyes to come around. It did moments later. This time she did not turn away. She stabbed her index finger towards her sleeping Dad and then she pointed it to herself. She was pleading for my consent to have sex with her father. I smiled and shook my head in consent. She stood up and hugging me she planted innumerable kisses on all parts of my face. Later I explained to myself as to why I gave consent willingly to something so astonishing, unnatural and horrible.

The total population of Kabardians (Circassians who speak the language) living in their native land numbers in thousands and not millions. Moreover we live in a very volatile region. There is every danger of our culture and our language becoming extinct if we intermarry with other communities. This is what has happened to many of our people who got scattered in the various wars in which our country was involved. We rarely intermarry. My husband and I, both staunch lovers of our language and culture, have discussed this subject many times and our conclusion always was that we would be happy if Oona too marries into our community. Though we have never discussed it with Oona she played her part out of native instinct. She never had dates in school. With no one speaking our language here in the States we were wondering how her future will pan out. Frankly I prefer it is her father rather than an outsider. Abraham’s brother’s son Lot of the bible also under similar circumstances had children by his daughters.

I washed and settled on the bedroom easy chair. Victor was snoozing. As Oona’s request and my consent were both in the sign language he could not have known what his daughter had in store for him. Oona’s eyes were on him. With bemused eagerness I awaited Oona’s moves to seduce her father. Apart from letting him know when the opportunity came that I was in it I had no desire of lending a helping hand. She had to do it herself. Victor woke up. He went to the bathroom to wash. He came and lay down. Oona climbed on to the cot and sat by his side. I was wondering how Oona was going to initiate the quantum change in the father-daughter relationship. In the event the transition was almost seamless.

She bent down and kissed her father on the lips. In our culture as in others daughters do not kiss fathers on the lips. By this action Oona signalled her intentions. Victor, the wily fox that he was, understood. I do not know for how long he has been harbouring wicked thoughts of his daughter. He turned to me. I gave a thumbs-up sign. He smiled. He was ready and eager.

He took his hand to her cheek and gently stroked it. It was all the encouragement my daughter needed. She took his hand from her cheek and placed it on her breast. He let it lie on her breast. She placed her hand over his hand and squeezed. He now squeezed on his own. Oona then touched his flaccid penis. Exhausted after the recent show it took some stroking to show signs of life. It was nowhere near the hardness it had to be to enter a virgin. Oona now got on all fours with head pointing to his feet. Her vulva was against his lips. He pulled her hips down and started kissing her vulva and licking its wetness. At the same time she was running her tongue along the shaft of his penis. From time to time she took his glans in her mouth and plopped it in and out. These combined manoeuvres had the desired effect. She got his penis fully charged. I watched with excitement as if it was a floor show and the participants were strangers and not my husband and my daughter.

Oona turned over. She straddled him. She did not know how to proceed. To her father her embarrassment was funny. She turned to me. I went up to her. I made her lift herself up. As she lowered herself I asked her to hold the penis and insert. She hesitated but I had to tell her firmly that she had to do that. She placed the tip of the penis against the vaginal opening and lowered herself. As she impaled herself there was that jerk to signal the rupture of the hymen. She was now well and truly in. Now something unexpected happened. She hugged me and we wept. I should have expected it. Loving father having sex with daughter with mother’s assistance is an emotional moment that should bring out tears in women.

There is no position that fills the vagina like woman on top. Women love that. From time to time I choose to be on top. I usually sit still savouring the pleasure of his penis jamming my vagina. But after that the woman has to lift herself up and drop herself down. That takes effort. For the man too pumping to the rhythm of the woman is not easy to establish. The weight of the woman is a factor that also comes into play.

As Oona raised and lowered her hip I bent down to see my husband’s penis slide in and out of my daughter’s vagina. It was wonderful to watch it happen. She bent down too and saw it for a while. Then she looked up and kissed me. It was another tender moment. Action was speeding up. The two found their rhythm. Action was fast and at its peak Victor ejaculated. Oona moved in response to help her father though she got no orgasm. She was so exhausted that I had to lift her bodily and place her by the side of her father. Both hugged, kissed, and rested.

That evening they had it once more. This time it was the usual man on top. That night they had it again, but with proper foreplay. They sucked and they licked. Oona had her first orgasm, a massive one, followed by after shocks. I was with them, holding Oona’s hand. She gripped me tight during the orgasms. To those who find my attitude unbelievable I have this to say. The ‘other woman’ was my own daughter. Not only that; as I had explained earlier, she was fulfilling the task of multiplying the community of Karbardians. You have to be a Karbardian to feel the tug of that emotion.

The next morning we were watching TV after breakfast when Oona joined us. She wanted to know if she was pregnant. She did not appear worried but rather anxious that she might not be. I told her that she will have to wait for a month to know. Then what? Victor and I had already discussed the possibilities. We will go back to the Caucasus where she will have her baby. The people there will assume that her man in the States is not willing to come away. If after a year or two Oona wants another child she will get pregnant and then we will come away to the States. People here will assume that her man was not willing to leave his native place. Then after another year or two if she once again gets pregnant… Oona burst out laughing as she completed the sentence for me. We hugged her and kissed our precious darling daughter who will always be with us as our own.

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