This came as a particular surprise since she was wearing a simple T-shirt and shorts. If that’s being ‘overdressed’ then I didn’t want to hear what she had in mind.
“What do you mean?” I asked quizzingly.
Becky gestured to the bare tits surrounding us. “Take a look around. We’re going to a hedonistic retreat and we look like total tourists.”
“We are tourists.”
“And that’s a problem.”
I tried to reason with her. “Becky, most of these other people here are tourists too. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that they’re at least making an effort to conform and have a good time. We stick out like sore thumbs. We’re practically ruining the vibe and energy of this group.”
Her comment gave me the sneaking suspicion that maybe she knew more about this trip than she would care to admit. I got the feeling that this was all planned in some way, but I didn’t want to accuse her. Not outright, anyway.
“You sound like you know a lot about this,” I questioned.
Her eyes sharpened, lips tightened. “Don’t be silly.”
“Look, I think you fit in just fine, I really do. You look great.”
Based on the slightly saddened look on her face, it was clear that my poor attempt at making her feel at ease didn’t work. If I was honest, Becky was right; she did stand out as a tourist. None of the other women on this trip were dressed the way Becky was dressed. The other women looked like nudists, hippies, and tree huggers. Becky looked like a city girl on a hot day.
“Can we at least compromise?” she asked in a cutesy tone.
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Just hear me out. Compromise means I’ll remove my bra. That’s it.”
“What?” I said evenly, but really I wanted to yell.
“Relax, I won’t be topless or anything. I’ll just remove my bra. My T-shirt will still be on. It’ll give me a more freeing look. You know, like I’m in touch with my body and completely unashamed.
“It’s inappropriate.”
She gestured around to the other women with their tits free. “If anything, I’m the inappropriate one for wearing a T-shirt and bra. Please? When was the last time I asked for a favor? I never ask for favors.”
“Becky, this trip is costing me thousands of dollars.”
“That doesn’t count as a favor. You’re my dad. You’re supposed to pay for everything. Besides, you never complain when I organize all our vacations. We always have a blast together.”
There was no denying that fact. She was right. Whenever we had the chance to go on a vacation together, she would always pick the places and find the activities. We always had so many memorable experiences together. That was one of the many things I loved about her.
In many ways (as tacky as this sounds) she is my best friend. And she’s told me that I am her best friend too. So how could I deny her this? Especially when she makes her eyes so big in a pleading attempt to make me feel guilty.
I sighed, “This is crazy. I can’t believe this is happening.”
She smiled, “Thanks dad, it won’t be that bad.”
Having said that, she reached underneath her T-shirt from behind, right in front of the bus, in public. She reached all the way up to her bra.
“What are you doing?” I asked, shocked.
“Unhooking my bra so I can pull it off.”
“Here?”
“There’s no time to go inside to use the bathroom.”
I gulped. “Are you going to take your T-shirt off or something? My goodness, Becky, don’t you need some privacy for this?”
“Relax, every girl knows this trick.”
After unhooking her bra from behind, Becky reached inside the left side of her T-shirt sleeve to pull her bra strap down. Then she did the same thing with the other side of her T-shirt, this time pulling the bra away completely through the short sleeve.
I watched in shock as my braless daughter stood before me, holding up her bra as if it were a trophy of sorts. Even worse, a gust of wind came and pressed her T-shirt against her chest, giving me an uncomfortable look at her. It was the first time I had ever seen her nipples pressed against her T-shirt.
She then handed me her bra. “Can you put this in our luggage for me? Thanks.”
I couldn’t refuse and I was left doing the uncomfortable task taking her bra and putting it inside of our luggage, which was stored inside the bus.
Once I managed to put her bra inside, the final call was made, and it was time to sit next to my braless daughter.
***
We sat in the back of the bus where no one else was sitting. As expected, the bus was noisy and the ride was bumpy. Surprisingly, the seats were small and we were really squeezed next to each other.
After about an hour or so, I closed my eyes and tried to sleep while Becky was looking at stuff on her phone.
My eyes were closed, and despite the noisy and bumpy ride, I almost managed to fall asleep. That was, until Becky tapped me on the shoulder.
“I have to show you something,” she said.
Becky showed me her phone. There was a video playing, which appeared to be of the retreat. I had only done some brief research of this resort (something I still regret to this day) and I had never seen anything like it. The video was tastefully done, but it showed a far more sexual side to the place than I had expected. The people in the video did different forms of nude yoga and other relaxation techniques. The nudity was far too casual for a father/daughter to be participating in, especially together.
There was a particular look on Becky’s face. It was as if she was seeking my approval in some way. As if she knew that we would be heading into this and she didn’t want me to be mad at her for it.
“Did you know it was going to be like this?” I asked.
Her lips tightened briefly. “That’s not important. The important thing is that we’re only a few hours away.”
“So you knew?”
“Dad, that’s irrelevant now. We’re almost there.”
Becky closed the video and put her phone away. It was her way of giving me fair warning of where we were headed.
I sighed, “I’ll try to enjoy myself. But when we get home, we’re going to have to talk about this.”
“Well, that’s the thing,” she said, nearly blushing. “I really want us to enjoy this retreat. It’s something I’ve looked forward to for a while.”
“So you knew that it was mostly nudist yoga?”
Becky looked flustered. “Just let me make my point, please.”
“Fine, what is it?”
“This place has an extremely sexual vibe to it. It’s hard to explain right now in the back of a noisy bus, but this retreat is special. I want it to be part of my learning experience. I want this to be a part of my young adulthood.”
By the sound of her voice and the look in her eyes, she meant every word. This clearly meant so much to her that I couldn’t possibly scold her for this, even though it was slightly obscene to me.
There was also a sound of concern in her voice. I know my daughter far too well. She clearly wasn’t afraid of the nudity, as evident by her enthusiasm earlier. It was something else entirely that was bothering her.
“What’s the problem?”
She whispered in my ear. “I’m a virgin.”
Now I was shocked even further. My head nearly spun that my own daughter would tell me this. But we were in the back of a bus, which was no place for this sort of conversation.
“What does that have to do with anything?” I tried to understand.
“Everything! How can I rightfully take part in this sort of spiritual awakening if I’ve never had sex before? I don’t want to be the only virgin there.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin,” I pleaded. “You’re fine the way you are. No one is going to notice.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. No one is going to notice me there because I don’t have the same aura of sexuality to harness. It’ll totally ruin the whole atmosphere with my geeky presence!”
“Becky, you’re…”
I was about to plead some more until she gave me her infamous pouty face. Her lower lip curled and her eyes went big. Her lower lip trembled and her eyes started to water. It was only a matter of time before the tears would come.
The thing was, sometimes she did this. Sometimes she would actually start to cry with a flood of tears coming out. But sometimes this was only pretend. Once I gave her what she wanted, a big smile would burst onto her face, showing me that it was all just a ruse.
At this point, I wasn’t sure what it was. But we were in the back of a bus with lots of people and this wasn’t the time to make a big scene. Luckily, no one had heard our conversation due to the loudness of the bus.
“Don’t cry,” I said.
Her lips quivered. “Can you help me?”
“I…I…”
“Thanks!” she said, her frown turning into a smile. “We need to think of something before we arrive there.”
It had all been a ruse. She wasn’t going to cry. And she had known about the sexual nature of the retreat all along.
“Becky, I’m your father.”