I couldn’t sleep last night. Not that I was really good at the sleeping to begin with. My nights were generally short and had me begging for a nap the next day. My mother said that I got it from my father, I guess he was never a good sleeper either.

So most nights when I could not sleep I laid there and looked at the ceiling. I would either fall back asleep from the boredom that took me over or next thing I knew, it was time to get out of bed. So what made last night different? What made me crawl out of bed at two o’clock in the morning? I guess I will never know, but it sure did lead to a night I would never forget.

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1:30. It was the fifth time I had looked at the clock in the last hour and it did not seem to be ticking by quick enough. Most nights I was content just laying here, but for some reason, tonight I was restless. I had the urge to get up and move around. I normally would not do that because I did not want to disturb anyone else who might be sleeping.

As the clock reached 2:00am, I no longer seemed to care. I could not bring myself to lay there quietly for one moment longer. Deciding that maybe I needed something to calm my nerves, I made my way down to the kitchen to make me tea. Whether or not it would make me fall asleep, I was unsure, buy maybe it would calm me down enough to allow me to lay in bed in silence.

I placed the tea pot on the stove and looked around for my favorite cup. I had a favorite everything. A favorite dinner plate, a favorite spoon, a favorite spot on the couch. My parents told me that I was obsessive, and maybe I am. Can’t blame a girl for sticking with something once she found something perfect.

Pulling open the dishwasher, I noticed my cup in the front and pulled it toward me. Closing the dishwasher behind me, I turned to the teapot and waited, taking the time to look around the kitchen. I could not remember ever seeing my house this late at night before, and to be honest, it was quite peaceful. I had a feeling that I would be doing this much more often.

“A little late for tea don’t you think,” A voice spoke from behind me, causing me to jump slightly before turning around to see my dad. I noticed how crazy it was that him and my brother sounded exactly alike. Before I turned around, I could not be sure which one was standing behind me.

“Daddy,” I exclaimed, setting my tea cup down on the counter. “I am sorry, I don’t mean to be up so late. I just couldn’t sleep and thought tea would help me relax a little.”

My dad just smiled at me, walking over to the cupboard and pulling down a cup for himself. He placed it on the counter next to my cup and leaned against the counter across from where I was standing.

“I never get any sleep either,” he said, placing his hands on the counter and leaning back. “Most nights you will find me in here doing exactly as you are doing. It’s actually nice to have company for a change.”

“Some crappy genes we have,” I laughed, moving over to the tea pot as it began to whistle. I wondered how many times it had whistled before and I had heard it, only to brush it off as another sound that the house made in the middle of the night.

“Hey,” my dad said, putting his hand against his chest as if I had just socked him in it. “I think you are taking for granted those genes of yours.”

“Yeah,” I asked him. “What make our genes so special? The fact that we can not get any sleep at night and we are constantly tired. Yeah, those sound like fantastic genes to me dad.”

“See,” he laughed. “Now you are getting it.”

I could not help but laugh at his joke. My dad was always joking about and it was not until now that I really noticed and appreciated it. I had this feeling like there was a lot I had been missing until this moment.

I poured two glasses full of water and placed tea bags into each one. As I handed him his tea, I began to head for the hallway. I figured I would drink my tea in my room and lay back down.

“Hey,” my dad asked, walking up behind me. “you just going to up and leave me now?”

“I was just going to go to my room,” I answered.

“Or you could hang out with your old man for a bit,” he suggested. “We could go sit in the den and chat or something. You could catch me up on the life of my seventeen year old daughter. We don’t seem to chat much.”

“Nothing that exciting about my life,” I said in response, which was not true, but still it was the best answer that I was willing to give my father on the subject.

“Oh come on,” he said as he headed toward the den. “Humor me a little why don’t you.”

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My dad and I talked for what felt like hours, though when looking at the clock and seeing that it was only 3:00am, I knew that we could not have been talking for more than forty minutes or so. I had never really noticed how easy it was to have a conversation with my father. When I tried to talk to my mother about anything she always tried to dig for information or scold me on what little she learned, it was not that way with him. He talked to me as if I were his friend, not his seventeen year old daughter, and I appreciated him for that.

“So is there a boy or isn’t there,” my father asked me with a slight smirk on his face. “You don’t have to tell me, but if you would like, I wouldn’t mind hearing about it.”

“It’s just weird you know,” I answered, taking the last sip of my tea, which had turned cold at this point. “Talking to my dad about boys is not something I ever would have expected to happen.”

“Well pretend for a moment I am not your dad,” he suggested, though it was an impossible suggestion. “Would that make it easier?”

“No,” I answered with a laugh. “Pretending you are not my dad does not make it the truth.”

“Oh,” he answered. “Well, I guess you just will have to keep this one to yourself then.”

“Fine,” I let out with a deep breath that had been building in my lungs for the past few minutes. “I will tell you, but you can’t get made at me or ground me or tell mom anything that I am about to say, or I will never trust you again.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” he laughed, putting his hand out in front of him as if to shake hands with me. “But you got yourself a deal.”

I reached my hand out and shook it with my fathers. His fingers were warm and kind of clammy. I did not think much of it, the room was rather on the hot side.

“Ok,” I took a deep breath, still not sure I wanted to have this conversation with my father. “There is a boy, but I am not sure if he is my boyfriend or not.”

“Why are you not sure?”

“Well he never really asked if I wanted to be his girlfriend.”

“Do people have to ask? Aren’t things like that generally assumed?”

“Well he has never really actually taken me out.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

“So what makes you assume that you might be dating.”

“We umm.”

I paused, not sure if I could do this. This was my father that I was talking to, and though he promised not to tell or ground me, I was still not sure I even wanted him to know this information about my life.

“Come on, you said you would tell me. What is said in this room, stays in this room.”

“Well we um ... we make out a lot, behind the bleachers at school.”

“I see.”

“Yeah.”

“So you think that he just wants to make out with you and nothing more.”

“Oh he want’s more.” I said in a very exaggerated manner. “He really wants more.”

“He wants to have sex?”

“Well, he hasn’t brought up actual sex yet.”

“So he wants ...”

“He want me to you know ... go down on him.”

“And you are not ready for that?”

“No I am,” I began, my brain racing. Did I just tell my dad that I was ready to give head to my not so boyfriend? How much stupider could I get? “I mean.”

“Then why don’t you? If that is what you both want.”
“I don’t..” I was not sure how to answer him.

“You don’t want to talk about this anymore?” He asked me.

“No.” I tried to think of how to stay this to my dad. “I don’t know um ... how.”

“You don’t know how what?” He asked, followed by a look of realization shortly after his words left his mouth. “You have never done this before?”

“No, of course not, what do you think I am? A whore?”

“Not at all, I just figured you had probably done a lot of things by now.”
“Well I haven’t and I am scared that I am going to do it horribly.”

My dad was quiet for a few minutes.

I thought that maybe I had freaked him out just a little. What father really wanted to hear about their daughters thoughts about giving head to her not so boyfriend behind the bleachers at school?

“You could watch porn,” my dad suggested out of no where. I was actually shocked to hear the words come out of his mouth. “That could be helpful maybe.”

“Porn doesn’t teach anything,” I began, actually forgetting for a moment that I was talking to my dad. “All those girls already seem to know what they are doing and there is only so much patience in my body to pause and play and pause and play just for a few minutes of something that is helping me very little.”

“Maybe a friend,” he asked. “You could have a friend to practice with, someone who won’t judge you if you are bad at it or not.”

“Yeah right,” No friend of mine would agree to that, well none that I would actually be willing to do it with. “I will just not do it for the time being.”

I gave my dad a half smile and began to reach for my cup.

“I think I should probably head to bed,” I said as my fingers wrapped around the mug. “It’s getting late and I really should try to get a few hours of sleep.”

“I could teach you,” he blurted out, causing me to lean back against my seat, almost in a state of shock. “I mean, actually I don’t know what I mean.”

I was not sure what to say to him really. Had my dad just told me that he would be willing to teach me how to suck cock? I almost hoped that I was dreaming due to the words that proceeded to come out of my mouth.

"You would do that for me?" I asked him curiously. "You would really teach me?"

"Yeah," he answered seriously. "You want to learn, I want to teach you. Who better to teach you than someone you trust?"

"When?" I asked curiously.

"What about now," he asked. "We are the only ones awake and I am positive no one will be up for hours."

I thought about this for a moment. Should I just go one up to bed and forget this night ever happened or did I let my dad teach me to suck cock?

"What do I need to do," I asked him, almost embarrassed by how much I really did not know about sexual acts in general.

My dad stood up and paced around the room for a minute, tapping his fingers against the side of his pajama pants. He tended to tap his fingers when he was deep in thought, this always made me nervous and today was nothing new.

A few minutes later he walked over to me took a seat beside me. He looked just about as nervous as I felt and strangely that was reassuring.

“Well have you ever seen one beyond porn,” He asked me. His hands were resting against his side, pressing hard into his body, as if he were scared to touch me.

“No,” I answered quickly and embarrassed like. I had never seen one or touched on in real life. I was not proud of that. Sure I was only seventeen but still I feel I should be more experienced them I am not.

“So maybe we need to start slower.” He responded reaching over and grabbing my hand. He moved my hand over to the flap in the front of his pajamas and paused. “Do you want to see and touch it?”

“Yes,” I said through cracked vocal chords. I was nervous, but at the same time, I was ready to see one and to touch one. I was done not knowing what the hell I was doing. Tonight was my night to learn, and I was going to take full advantage of that.

Before I could say anything further, he pushed my hand and his through the front part of his pajama pants and let my hand go as my fingers brushed up against his cock. It was warm and soft and I could not help but reach in further and wrap my fingers around it, which caused my dad to jump slightly.

“Are you okay,” I asked, pulling my hand quickly back. “Did I hurt you or do something wrong?”

“Oh no sweetie,” he said with a slight laugh, “your fingers were just a little cold is all. Its okay, you can keep touching it.”

It took me a minute, but I finally was able to reach my hand back inside my dad’s pants. He flinched again at my cold fingers, but this time I did not pull away, I just kept my fingers wrapped around it, waiting for him to tell me what to do.

“You should pull it out baby,” he coaxed me with his arm. “You want to see it don’t you?”

I nodded my head to let him know that I did want to see it. I was nervous about what I was going to see because it felt big in my hands. My stomach was doing backflips and my heart was racing a million miles a minute, anxiously awaiting what was in store for me this evening. Slowly I pulled it out to begin my journey with my dad.

“Mmm,” he moaned as his cock was revealed from his pants. The size of it almost made me gasp, but I kept my cool about it the best I could. “Your hand feels so good baby girl.”

I smiled at him, glad that he was complimenting me and not telling me how horrible I was doing. I wanted him to enjoy this, I wanted to be good at this and so far I was on the right track.

“Now slowly move your hand back and forth against the length of my cock baby,” he instructed, looking my body over. “You are doing so well.”

I ran my hand up and down the length of my dad’s cock. It was soft and warm and my fingers tingled against it. I jumped slightly when it twitched in my hands, but I did not let go, I continued to softly rub it like he had instructed, watching it grow in my hand.

“You should spit on it,” he instructed, leaning back against the chair.

“I should what,” I asked him, a little on the confused side.

“You should spit on it,” he said again, “lean forward and spit on it, it will get it more moist and you will be able to rub it faster and hold onto it a little tighter.”

I turned in the chair until I was hanging half way off and leaned down toward his cock. Once I was about six inches from his cock I spit on the top of it, watching the saliva from my mouth roll down the sides and onto my fingers. I then began to run my hand slowly up and down the length of his cock once again.

“Oh god,” my dad moaned. “Yeah just like that, rub it nice and slow baby, tighten your fingers around it and rub it nice and slow.”

I did as he instructed once again, tightening my fingers around his cock and rubbing it nice and slow between my fingers and the palm of my hand. His cock began to let out more liquid, which was making it...