Reader
Open on Literotica

Amor Prohibetur Ch. 21

Tessa And Her Big Butt

Sometimes... You know, things get out of hand. You don't mean for things to go so far, and you're taking chances that you shouldn't be taking, because it's risky and you're getting away with something that nobody else even thinks about. I guess it was the rush of adrenaline that got me started, and I was hooked on that rush later. I just... You know, I kept pushing things along, when I should have stopped and tapped my hands together for a Time Out. I took too many chances, and now I'm in the spot I am.

I don't know if I regret it. If I had to do it all over again, I'd probably still do things the same way. Most of it, anyway. A lot of it would have probably happened the same way no matter what I'd done. It was the adrenaline and the excitement, and the... Oh, wow. I can feel my body getting hot just thinking about it. It was fun, too. It was always fun with my dad.

I guess I should tell you a little bit about me. At the time this took place, I was nineteen. I mean, don't get me wrong, because this didn't happen all that long ago. It was just, you know, just a few years ago. Before I got married. Maybe I got married so I could create some distance between my dad and me, but... Wow. This 'eyewitness account' is coming out all messed up, isn't it?

I don't want to start this over, because I've tried to write this down a couple of times already, and then I erase it when I get stuck and if I keep doing that I won't ever get it all down.

Okay, what I'm going to do is get up and go have myself a cup of tea. I know, I know, you're going to say that young people like me should drink coffee at the trendy cafes. I'm not the trendy type, okay? I'm sure you will figure this out as I go along. Trendy is not me! I like my Earl Gray and my Black Tea and my Chamomile...

Off topic! I'm rambling now. I think it would be best if I went and had my tea.

Okay, I'm back. I have my cup of Chamomile sitting next to me. I'm not drinking it yet because it's still hot. The little packet came in a pink envelope, and the box is mostly yellow with a little bit of green on it. As you can see, I can jot down details now, and I'm much more composed than I was earlier.

My name is Contessa. I know it is a weird medieval-sounding name, but that's what my parents gave me. My mother's name is Fiona, which is also weird in my opinion, but you can see how this sort of thing runs in the family. When I was a girl, I went by Tassie, but now that I'm older I go by Tessa.

At the time this was going on I was nineteen and living in... Maybe I shouldn't mention exactly where, just in case this sordid tale runs amok. Let's just say it was in the Pacific Northwest, and not in the big cities that first come to mind. The houses around here have huge yards compared to city houses, and our nearest neighbors are a couple of hundred feet away. The back of our house is a forest, which is pretty cool. I spent a lot of time running around in the woods with my friends, and I still go out there a lot just to enjoy nature. I love doing that.

This Chamomile is pretty good, by the way. I put a lot of milk and only a little sugar in it. That's the way I like it. I could drink this all day!

So... I was nineteen back then. My average-height father managed to nab my mother, who is a couple of inches taller than he is. Oh, wait. I forgot to mention my dad's name. His name is Leonard (Yuck!), but most people call him Lenny. I just call him Dad. I got most of my height from my mother, so that I ended up as tall as my dad. I remember how when I grew the same height as he was, he'd make jealous or resentful faces at me. Dad was just kidding around, and I ended up laughing all over the place.

So... I stand at five foot eight. I have B cups and forty-inch hips. Yes, yes, you read the title of my story. It was my hips that got me in a lot of trouble!

My dad is an introvert. He's usually quiet, even around people he knows and hangs out with. My Dad and I can just sit in the same room with each other and not say a thing all day, because we are that comfortable just being in each other's presence. My mother, on the other hand, is an extrovert. She does all the talking when we go out, and she waves her arms around like a sorceress so that people's eyes end up following her hands as if they're about to fly off into outer space or something. As far as their bodies go, my dad is stocky and usually has a trimmed beard. (He always reminds me of a big teddy bear when my mom hugs him.) My mom has long arms and legs, and she has her nice curves. I'm jealous because Mom can eat anything she wants and not gain any weight, while I can munch on one cupcake and immediately it goes to my caboose. You don't know how hard it is to find pants for me! Basically, when I'm around my Dad I'm quiet, but when I'm around Mom I can be a chatterbox just like her.

That's the setting, and here is the story:

The grocery store is half an hour away. My Dad works for a diesel mechanic shop, and usually he has a steady shift with normal nine to five hours. My Mom works as a hostess at a casino. Her shift jumps around a lot, but mostly she works in the evenings and late into the night. The result is that Dad usually goes grocery shopping instead of Mom, because of the long drive and the sunlight and everything. Mom thinks she's a vampire who can't leave the house!

My Mom has a part-time hobby so she can make a little extra income on the side. She creates necklaces and bracelets out of colored glass beads and little pieces of wood or whatever. Sometimes I help her make jewelry. When we have enough, we take our pieces to a souvenir shop in town and later make a percentage of whatever gets sold. It wasn't a whole lot of money, okay?

Dad and I had just gone out shopping that day, while Mom was at work. We stopped off at the post office, since we don't have mail couriers like they do in the big cities. Mom had ordered a big box of beads and trinkets to make more jewelry with. Like a dumb ass, I opened up the box just as we were getting home, and right when Dad's SUV hit a stupid pothole. Well, you can guess what happened. Half the shit in the box jumped out and all over the floorboard.

"Pinchay cabronay!" I yelled out. Yeah, Mom and I cussed a lot. We cussed so much we even cussed in other languages. If we cussed in English, Dad would make us put a dollar into a jar for every cuss word he heard us say. So we filled up jars pretty quick and shifted over to using foreign vernacular. At this point in time, Mom and I were using a combo of Pig Latin and Spanish to vent our many, many frustrations.

Dad was laughing up a storm as he parked his SUV in front of our house. "You take care of that while I get the groceries out."

"Gee, thanks, Dad." I huffed. "There are only like a million little pieces I have to pick up!"

"Too bad for you." He said.

"Ee-ho day putah." I grumbled, as I started snatching up any beads and shit I could see. I was just throwing them back into the box, even though I knew I'd have to sort it later before Mom got home, or else I'd have to deal with her shit, too.

I managed to get all the pieces from the front seat area, but wouldn't you know it, a bunch of other tiny pieces had bounced under the seats and all the way to the back seat floorboard. So there I go, leaning through the back door to scoop up more pieces. That's where all of the groceries were. My dad got some of them out, clearing up enough room for me to lean on the seat, while I reached down to grab more pieces and kept a firm hold on the box so it wouldn't tip over again. Then I had to actually climb on the seat to reach out even farther away.

Well, Dad came back for more groceries. I didn't see him come back, and because he's a quiet guy, he did not say 'Hey, Tessa, get your fat ass out of the way so I can grab more groceries.' Instead of pulling stuff out of the other back door, my Dad absently went to the open door I was in. I don't know how long he stood there. Maybe it was just a few seconds, or maybe it was a couple of minutes. I was in there bent over with my ass in the air, and my head and one arm between the front and back seats grabbing runaway beads.

I guess I felt his stare or his presence behind me. When I looked over my shoulder, I could see Dad standing there, only a couple of feet from my backside. He was transfixed. I had to look that word up, okay, so I could describe that look. He was mesmerized while he was back there looking at me. He even had his mouth open. I'm surprised that drool wasn't hanging out!

"Dad, you need to go around the car to the other door." I told him.

Even then, it took Dad a couple of seconds to shake out of it. He said 'Right' before he nodded and made his way around. I paused my hunt for refugee beads, just to watch Dad for a moment. He took another two arms full of stuff and headed for the front door.

That was pretty odd, I thought. For that short time, Dad looked like a witch had cast a spell to freeze him in place. And what was he staring at? It took me a good minute to understand that my Dad had been gawking at my behind. My Dad checked out my ass! It clicked then, as I had seen that same look on horny guys before. Guys would stare at my friends and I when we were in town. They'd look at our tits or our butts, and their short looks would stretch out and become longer gazes and outright stares. My friends and I joked about that. We even asked some of our boyfriends what they were thinking when they stared at girls like that. The boys said they'd imagined our bodies nude, or they would visualize having sex with us.

No way, I thought. Dad would never look at me like that, would he? Impossible! I say again, impossible! Then again, there weren't that many good-looking women in town, and I had seen Dad checking out my girlfriends before. Still: No Way!

If Mom had been there, I would have cracked a joke to get rid of this weird feeling I had that Dad had ogled me like a pervert. Because Mom was out of the picture, I stayed quiet and kept picking up my beads, while Dad made a couple more trips for the rest of our purchases.

"Cool-oh gran-day." I said, after dad went inside and I was still out there picking up all those stinking beads. In case you didn't know, that means Big Ass in Spanish.

I feel like I have to interject something here, in my dad's defense. I don't want you to think he was some kind of big scoundrel or womanizer or something. He did look at other women occasionally, because I would catch him doing that. I already told you he was an introvert, so I doubt he would ever cheat on Mom, even if some woman came up to him and started rubbing her tits in his face. I swear to you that my Dad would be totally repulsed by any woman who did that. He's more like one of those guys who takes tiny steps to get anything accomplished. A seductress would have to rub her tits on him fifty times before he would work up the nerve to touch her, but more than likely he'd run away and tell Mom about it the first chance he got. Oh, and Dad and Mom weren't fighting or not getting along or anything. You could say that what happened between us was 33% him and 66% me.

And as for my side, well, I can't really explain that either. I had my little social clique that I hung out with, that included a bunch of guys and a bunch of girls. It was kind of a thing for us to have boyfriends and girlfriends for a couple months, and then break up and choose somebody new, or just to mess around with whomever we felt like at a house party or bonfire. I wasn't exactly lacking in company, is what I'm trying to say. It's more like, you know, things fell into place between Dad and me, pun intended.

That night after I caught Dad staring at my ass, I had a seriously sexy dream about him. I don't remember all of it today, but I do remember the part where he was taking me from behind like a guy on a jackhammer. It was one of those hot and sweaty dreams that made me want to take off my jammies and touch myself all over. I felt my lady parts and saw that I'd gushed out during my dream, but I hadn't exactly gotten fulfilled, if you know what I mean. I have this blue hairbrush with a rounded handle that gets thick in the middle, and I used that to finish myself off.

I guess after sleeping with a handful of guys and one girl, a lot of the novelty of having sex had worn off. Thinking about Dad made the idea fresh again. I didn't plan on doing anything with him, I swear! There were times when I saw some handsome guy on the street, and later I'd use my brush to pretend that guy was sneaking into my room. That's how it was when I imagined Dad that night. It was like a quickie fantasy fling, no strings attached and nothing else.

I had no idea of how far things would go later. Things just kind of took their own course.

My friends invited me out to the River on a Friday night. It would take us a couple of hours to drive there, and they weren't planning on coming back until late on Sunday. I had a long talk with one of my girlfriends, over who I might end up messing around with if I went. It came down to two choices: Tom, whom I'd already slept with and found boring, and Jack, who I hadn't slept with, but who was even more boring than Tom. I don't know if you want to call me an intellectual or anything, but the last thing I want to talk about is high school football and what the guys were doing to spice up their trucks. Because I could be a goof, I told my girlfriend to tell everyone else that I had a rash on my pussy that made me smell like old tuna. I told her my pussy was turning green.

"Ay, caramba!" I told her, but that wasn't technically a cuss word, so I didn't have to worry about putting a dollar into the stupid Cuss Jar.

To make matters... Well, more interesting, Mom's bosses at work had been such good sports that they scheduled her for work on each of those nights. That meant Dad and I would be hanging out at the house all by our selves. I swear, I didn't plan any of this!

I got bored, of course. My friends were texting me non-stop to tell me how much fun they were having. I believed it, because none of the girls would be getting stuck with Jack or Tom like I would have, if I had gone along with them. When I say getting stuck, pun is intended, obviously.

Jack said he wanted to see if my pussy was really turning green, so I walked into the kitchen to find something green to smear on it. Alas, we were all out of guacamole! The chunky kind would have worked pretty good, in my humble opinion. I thought about using mustard or relish, but that made me think of eating a hot dog, and I already told you how fattening food always migrates its way to my backside. So I gave up trying to keep the joke going and walked back to my room.

As I passed by the living room, I observed with my keen, wisdom of Diana eyes that Dad was watching an old fifties black and white horror movie. Yes, my Dad is that retro! The movie was ultra-cheesy and had aliens that looked like regular men trying to catch human women to take back to their planet. That movie was so cheesy that barely after thirty seconds I couldn't stand it, but that's what Dad liked watching, so who am I to judge, right?

When I got to my bedroom, I thought that Dad's eyes were gravitated on the TV screen, and my mind associated that intense sort of gravitation to the way Dad had stared at my ass that day when I dropped the beads. Then, because my mind works this way, I got to wondering the great philosophical question: If given a choice between the two, would Dad keep watching his black and white movie, or would he fix his x-ray vision on my butt if I stood in front of him and shook it. Because I tend to think in scientific terms, I thought of what I might need to test out this white paper hypothesis. Tight shorts would be a good start, and maybe a timely commercial break.

I have a pair of yellow shorts so tight I need a shoehorn to get into them. They make my ass look like an elephant's, seriously. Those would be perfect! After struggling for ten minutes to get inside them, I strutted back into the living room. My plan almost backfired because the movie was still on, with no timely commercial break in sight to give me the advantage. Rats! Because I believe so much in science, I decided to push forward with my experiment anyway.

"Dad, do these shorts make my butt look fat?" I pseudo-innocently asked. "I need to know!"

There I stood, my body turned away from my Dad, with my head cocked to look over my shoulder and my hands on my hips like an extra curvy Superwoman.

I couldn't tell you exactly what went through my dad's mind, but I did see his face turning red.

"I'm watching a movie." He said.

"No, you're not. You're watching me. Answer the question!"

"Those shorts are way too tight. Why do you even have them? Throw them out!"

"They have sentimental value." I told him. I don't know why I was egging him on so much. Maybe it was because I knew how introverted he was. If I wiggled my ass, Dad would probably run into his bedroom and barricade the door. "Well?"

"You would look better if you wore shorts that fit you correctly."

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Yes. They make your behind look fat."

"Are you saying I'm fat?"

"I'm saying those specific shorts make your behind look fat. Normal shorts would make your behind look normal. Go put on the shorts you were wearing before!"

I shifted over just a little bit, so I could pretend I was watching that dumb movie. At the same time, my eagle-talon eyes were observing Dad. He was clearly uncomfortable with me standing there. His eyes kept going back and forth between the TV and my skin-tights. Those were lab results I could write a paper on!

It was starting to dawn on me just how mercilessly I was teasing my Dad. I can't really explain why I did this, except for when I performed similar taunts when I was in high school. My friends and I would sometimes dare each other to tease the nerdy students or even our teachers on occasion. I remember a few times when I deliberately wore a short skirt and no panties while I sat in class. We did what we called the Basic Instinct maneuver back then. That's when you uncross your legs, exposing your beaver, and re-cross your legs in the opposite direction. Yup, that one move got me a B in chemistry!

I already told you how daring it felt to do something like that to my Dad. When I got back to my room, I got a hold of my hairbrush, because I had to!

Stop, Tessa, stop! You mustn't do this! That's what my little angel conscience was telling me. The little devil side of me was conspiring; what else can we do to get a rise out of Daddy-kins, pun intended. It was a thrill, I guess. Since I figured it would take something like fifty times before Dad got the courage to do anything, I thought I still had forty-nine more times to go. Besides, it was more fun to tease Dad than it would have been to very boringly sit next to Jack and Tom at the River.

Saturday night crept up on us, with Dad peacefully sitting in the living room again and watching a black and white monster movie this time. It featured a guy in very ugly and very implausible octopus suit that was, once again, kidnapping women to take back to its lair. Muhahaha! Did every single old movie have the same plot or what?

I plopped down on the couch next to the man of the house. "Dad, will you look at these pictures? My friends have been sending them to me all day!"

I had like a zillion pictures by then, of my so-called friends mercilessly taunting me with pictures of them on a boat surrounded by a hundred other crowded boats. Everybody was in the act of guzzling down kegs of beer and wearing skimpy beach clothes.

"I'm so jealous!" I affirmed, quite dramatically for the effect.

"Why didn't you go with them?" Dad asked.
I could have told him the truth; that Jack was a bum lay and that Tom most likely had an even more marginal chance of success. Instead I made up some lame excuse about how I didn't have anything new to wear. Dad went quiet on me, as if he thought I was working up to ask him to lend me his credit card, so I could go max it out and buy myself an entire new wardrobe. Mom was like that, but not me, but since I was a lot like Mom, Dad had his doubts about me.

You know I just had to mess with Dad. "Can you buy me some new panties? All the ones I own have skid-marks all over them. I want some with Hello Kitty, or maybe Pokemon. Could you please?"

My Dad's face scrunched up so much in revulsion that I cut loose with the laughs. I don't know what was funnier; the skid-mark reference or the cartoon characters.

I took my phone away from him. "Did you see all my pictures? Here, I have this other folder I want you to see."

I gave my phone back to Dad. This was a digital picture album of my friends in their bikinis, either with their tops on or off. A lot of the girls ended up taking their tops off when they were fooling around on the River. My dad knew who all my girlfriends were, but as far as I knew, he'd never seen any of them topless before.

"Do you think I should have gone with them?" I was being coy with him.

The nudie pictures captivated my Dad. He took like thirty seconds examining each and every one. I guess that, being how he was, he never dreamed of people being that bold out in public. Or maybe it was because he knew all the girls in the pictures. Maybe it was the idea that he was used to seeing those girls fully dressed, and here he was getting a good eyeful of what they looked like with only their bottoms on.

"Now that you've seen those pictures," I started. "Which one of my friends do you think is the cutest?"

With the movie all but forgotten, it took Dad an entire five minutes to pick out a girl. Wouldn't you know it? That was the girl with the biggest butt!

"I think her butt is too fat." I said. "Just like mine."

"I don't happen to share that point of view." He rebutted.

"Mom's butt isn't that big."

"No, it isn't."

"Isn't Mom like the perfect woman for you?"

Dad gave me a sharp look then. Maybe he thought I was setting him up for a trick question, like I had when I asked him if my super-tight shorts made me look fat. That's when he handed my phone over and went back to watching his movie. That was the slow equivalent of running off to hide in his room, I deciphered.

So, I'd found my Dad's flirting limits. I thought I'd better back off, or else he might tell Mom what I'd been up to.

I figured I could try again tomorrow, and then I caught myself. Try what? What was I really thinking I could accomplish by teasing my Dad so much? I certainly wasn't planning on taking things any further than that!

I spent part of Sunday making dumb Friendship bracelets with Mom, while Dad was off at work. These had colored and wooden beads alternating on them, with some kind of theme like the colors of the US flag, the Rasta flag or whatever. It was hard to tell what combo would sell sometimes. For whatever reason, the color schemes of random things like sports teams for men or pink and white stars and other spacey shapes for little girls would become trendy, while everything else got dusty and didn't sell at all. Still, for the low cost of the material and the short amount of time it took to put the jewelry together, we made a good percentage of the mark-up price.

I did mention that when Mom and I got to talking we could totally talk a person's ear off. At some point, I felt I needed a confidant to divulge some of the things I'd been doing to Dad. I told Mom about how I'd shown Dad the pictures of my friends at the River, and she asked to see them, too. Mom checked out the bikinis on the girls, because she thought she wouldn't look good in swimwear anymore. I kept telling her she looked fine, but she insisted bikinis for her are a thing of the past. She checked out the guys too, and she especially made comments about the muscular men in the pictures. Mom and I could talk about anything. Well, almost anything, as I wouldn't dare tell her about what I did with my hairbrush, or about how I'd been teasing Dad so recklessly.

When I told Mom about the skid-mark comment I'd made to Dad, she nearly laughed her fool head off. I guess in the morning, before he'd left for work, Dad had very nervously mentioned something about having to buy Hello Kitty panties for me, but he wouldn't tell Mom why. He only said for Mom to talk to me about it. That made her start laughing all over again, because she and I would get to messing with my Dad specifically because of the way he reacted to our boldness and off-color humor.

Dad came home at around five-thirty, and Mom left at seven. That meant she would be working until three or four in the morning. It gave me plenty of time that night to screw around with Dad. Was I really thinking that? Why did I have to be that kind of person, the kind that keeps on pushing other people's buttons when I figure out what those buttons are? Poor Dad!

I kept thinking 'Meese Nag-lass.' No, that's not right. How do you say it? Meese Nas-gals. No, no, no! Meese Nahl-gass. I think that's right. That means 'my butt-cheeks' in Nahuatl. Okay, I'm kidding! It's in Spanish.

I wonder what Dad had been daydreaming about when he was off at work, because later that evening, when we were alone, he asked me if my friends had sent me any more pictures. Of course they had, since they loved teasing me as much as I did them. I hadn't had time to sort through the tons of new pictures, so I sat next to Dad and we went through them together.

Lo and behold, there were several pictures of my girlfriends straight out mooning the guys on other boats. In one picture, which was annoyingly off-center by the way, you could see three bare butts in a row with hands holding bikini bottoms down around the thighs. Don't you hate off-center pictures? I wasn't planning on framing that shot, but still, I hate having to turn the phone at an angle just so I can straighten the image for my mind. I think in straight lines with ninety-degree corners, okay!

Sitting beside me, Dad was thinking about something else. "I can't believe your friends are so outrageous. You wouldn't have done that, would you, if you'd gone out to the River with them?"

That was a potentially incriminating question for me, especially if it got back to Mom. She didn't think the same way Dad did. If my Mom saw pictures of my friends going topless or mooning random strangers, she would think it was empowering. If I were in those pictures doing the same sorts of things, Mom would definitely scold me. I know it's a double standard; what was good for the goose definitely was not good for the gander! THEY doing it without me was a whole other world than ME doing it with THEM. Does that make sense?

Anyway, since I didn't want to open my mouth and step into a bear trap, I looked into my Dad's face and thought the answer at him. Yes, I would be presenting a fourth bare ass if I'd been on the boat with my friends, I projected, and not only that but I would be bouncing it up and down for the attention. If my friends spread their butt-cheeks apart and showed off where the sun don't shine, I probably would do that too. That's what too much alcohol does to people at the River!

I could see that Dad got fidgety right after I gave him that look. I'm not dumb, okay, but despite everything else I'd done to mess with Dad, I still hadn't caught the apparent implications of his ooh-la-la reaction. It was starting to sink in, though. Dad was getting a kick while seeing how wild my friends could get, but he was getting a double-kick when he imagined me doing the same crazy antics.

I had figured it out! I had cracked the code! Dad's introvert and voyeur side liked checking out the bodies of my girlfriends, and probably of women in general, since, like I said, there weren't all that many hotties in town to begin with. However, past that, Dad, being the way he was, had transferred his little fetishes on me as well, and even more so than he did with other women. I know, my reasoning sounds scientific, but that's just the way I think. In the quintessential layman's terms, Dad, yes, my Dad, had the hots for me.

Ta-daa! That, my friends, was the moment of epiphany. I'm sure that Dad could appreciate Mom's cool-oh, because she was tall and she had a nice cool-oh in my punto day vistah. At the same time, it seemed clear to me that Dad was into the sort of Wide Loads that filled up my shorts. You know, the Wide Loads that took up one and a half lanes on the highway, instead of the usual one.

The fun and games were over! Time to pack up the cupcakes and root beer and go home! My Dad wanted to chinga me cool-oh! Before this, like on that day I'd dropped the beads in the car, I thought Dad was reacting the way he would react to any old ass that bent over in front of him. I had not realized until that moment that my ass was like the masterpiece of all butts for my Dad. I was the Mona Lisa of butts!

Something ran through Dad's head, and it was enough to make his cheeks flush red. Then that same thing must have gone through me, because I was suddenly nervous and at the point of running away from the living room. I got up and went into my room, where my first thought was for me to find my dear old friend, Mr. Blue Hairbrush, so I could give him a nice, warm welcome.

Then I realized I had forgotten my stupid phone. No telling what would happen if I left it in my dad's possession! Maybe I would get it back all sweaty and sticky! Maybe he would use a Kung Fu grip on it and break it in half! Going back to the living room, I found that Dad had simply tossed my phone on the end of the couch where he wouldn't be able to reach it unless he leaned over.

It was like he didn't want the phone close to him, as if the only way he was comfortable being near it was if I was sitting there next to him. Maybe he thought he would be seen as a pervert if he thought such things alone, but he wasn't a pervert if somebody else was with him. I could see how something like that would make sense to him. That was his usual thinking pattern.

As for me, well, I had to gallop my way to my bedroom, because by then I was stressing for Mr. Hairbrush like you wouldn't believe!

Mom was home for the next couple of days, which was good for me as I was starting to have wild thoughts by then. You know, the kind of thoughts where Dad had taken the place of my hairbrush. I was so excitable I spent most of those two days in my room.

That's okay. I had stuff to keep me busy. For a while now, I'd been toying with the idea of creating an online store so Mom and I could sell our jewelry. That way we wouldn't have to depend so much on the one little souvenir shop in town. The reason I hadn't done it yet had to do with deciding what kind of store would make the most profit. We could cater to surfers, to Nordic people in general, or even to specialized genres like steam-punk or medieval role-players. England and Australia, for example, had tons of role-players who made their own costumes at home, but then I had to take into account how much it would cost for the jewelry to get shipped way over there.

Mom and Dad went out together. When they came back they called me into the living room to give me a surprise. Guess what it was? They had driven further away than usual to go shopping, and they'd found some Hello Kitty panties that came in Wide Load. They thought it was a great joke to get those for me, even though I never really liked that meme.

They got pizza too. I stuffed my face with it, despite that I knew I was going to acquire a lot of that fat on my already fat thighs. I might as well just tape the pizza slices on my ass and be done with it.

I noticed too that Dad's eyes were lingering on me a lot more than usual. By then, I didn't mind that at all.

I know this is going to sound odd for me to say, but I won't date a guy that is like my Dad. There is a certain appeal to a quiet teddy bear type, and I had dated a couple of guys with that sort of personality when I was in high school. I'm sorry, but those guys were boring. If through some twist of fate my Dad had been in my classes, I would not have dated him either. At the same time, because he was my Dad, and because he had that personality, I thought he was attractive. It's a conundrum, okay?

Most of my day I spent with Mom. She said I should go ahead and start up an online store. We brainstormed over the theme for a while, until she told me study a few websites that sold jewelry similar to what we created. Whatever looked to be most popular could be our theme. If the store looked to have all sorts of discounted or discontinued merch, that store probably wasn't making any money. Because I was more digitally literate than Mom, this was going to be my pet project, sink or swim. Eye way!

In the back of my mind, all day long I had rather heated thoughts rumbling back and forth like the big trucks rumble along the highway. Dad got home, we ate dinner together, and Mom left for work.

I waited until seven-thirty, before I changed into a long shirt and my new panties. Because I didn't have enough courage to go into the living room yet, I stayed in my room until eight. My Dad wouldn't touch me, I knew, so if I really wanted to start some action, I would have to be the match, the spark and the fuse.

So, there I went, strutting my big butt into the living room. Guess what Dad was watching: A monster movie. Guess what it was about: A vampire that seduced women and took them back to his castle hideout. Lame! Did all those black and white movies have the same director or what? Plot, people, plot!

I was like, eye mamacita, when I stood next to Dad and gave him my back. He was looking at me, wondering what would come next. I lifted my shirt up to my waist, showing off my Hello Kitty Wide Loads.

"Do these panties make my ass look fat?" I asked.

I wonder what Dad thought, as he saw that dumb kitty face in white staring back at him, with soft pink on the edges. My butt was big enough that I could have had a kitty face on each cheek, so that single meow-meow head was as big as a pumpkin. All I can say for sure is that Dad didn't make a peep at me.

"Hello Kitty got your tongue?" I wondered.

Just by letting him stare, I was feeling more and more turned on. I didn't mind if he stared at me for the rest of the night, because I had my hairbrush to fall back on when I returned to my room, pun intended.

"They look nice on you." He admitted.

I was feeling it. You know, that hot, sexy vibe where you just want to provoke somebody and get things started. I started shifting back and forth in a quiet little dance for Daddy, with my butt going one way and then going right back again. He didn't say a thing, but after looking over my shoulder, I observed that his eyes were glued on my nahl-gass. I like being ogled; I like it a lot!

You won't make the first physical move, but I will, I thought, as I dropped my over-sized shirt and walked right up to him. "I don't really like Hello Kitty, but I do appreciate that you and Mom went out of your way to get these for me. Why don't you stand up so I can give you a hug?"

He nodded. Once he was up, I gave him a hug. We were used to hugging each other, since we did it all the time as a family. Those kinds of hugs didn't last very long. This one did! I kept my body pressed against his, with my head turned and leaning on his shoulder. My arms were clasped at Dad's back like he was my prisoner that I didn't want to get away. My chest was on his, and so were my hips. Even our thighs were touching a little bit. Even if Dad stayed completely still, holding him like this, right after I'd shown off my butt for him, was going to make my next rendezvous with Mr. Hairbrush nothing short of spectacular.

He did touch me, when I felt his hands come in for a landing on my shoulder blades. I thought he might try to break up this winning team right away, if his nervousness set in, but I guess he'd been thinking about this so much, like I had, that he didn't want to squander the opportunity. We were warm by standing so close together, but our minds, those were making our contact steamy.

I know; I'm so bad! Rotten to the core! Like I said, Mom and Dad were getting along, so I had no reason to get between them like this! I shouldn't have done it, but there I was, doing it and pushing everything else out of my head. I was becoming; cue the dramatic music... The Homewrecker!

Our hug lasted for, I don't know, two or three eternities, but neither of us was in a hurry to put it into the past. Dad held me and I held Dad. I was afraid to lift my head from his shoulder, because that would surely ruin the moment.

I couldn't believe it, when Dad started caressing my upper back. He did this in small circles, because he was eternally worried about taking things too far. There is this saying, okay. Silence is compliance! So yes, I was complying! And, in parenthesis, loving it!

I can guess that this was a fantasy come true for both of us. I felt goose pimples when Dad's hands made concentric advances. It took him a while, but he eventually found my shoulders and arms. I shivered a few times. Each time, Dad stopped and waited things out. When I didn't squawk like a seagull for him to get away, he would encourage his horny little hands and resume his rubbing. Resume your rubbing, Dad!

Then, slowly, and I mean glacially slowly, Dad's hands descended Mt. Tessa and found the unexplored territory in the middle of my back. I could feel his body tense up against mine. His hands rebelled!

No, no, no, not yet! Keep going, Dad! Find that Wide Load you've been searching for all your life! Lift my shirt up and say hello to Hello Kitty! Please, please! Keep it going! Don't leave me hanging, Dad!

I guess a guy like him can only handle so much daughterly exploration. I told you it would take like fifty attempts at seduction before he capitulated to expected demands. So far, his hands had mapped out from my shoulders to the middle of my back, and now they were throwing in the towel. Those welcome hands slipped to my waist in a benign way and stayed there like a parked car.

If Dad squeezed my butt even once, I probably would have creamed myself. It would have run right down my legs and pooled all over the floor. As it was, I had to be extra careful not to rattle him. Anything I did might break the chance of gaining future earnings. I put my hands on his waist, the same way he was holding mine. As I broke the contact, because it had to be me, I gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

After that, figuratively speaking, I did cartwheels all the way to my room.

The next morning, Mom and I were making Rasta bracelets. Those were actually selling thanks to all the potheads in town.

I broached the subject, because the subject needed to be broached. "Mom, I know this guy who likes me. He's really quiet and shy, though. He's a lot like Dad."

"Is that why you didn't go to the River this weekend?"

"Kind of. If I'd gone, I would have ended up with this guy, and his conversations are really dry and boring."

"Don't end up with a man like your father."

That reply surprised me. "Really? Why not?"

"Your father has a lot of good qualities." Mom explained. "But he's so socially awkward that I can't stand it sometimes. I know it seems like I'm lording it over the house all the time, but that's because your father can't make his own decisions. I wear the pants around here because I have to. If I ask him what he wants to eat, I give him an option and he nods his head. If I say we should go out, he nods his head, but he won't ever tell me where he wants to go, so I end up choosing the place for us. Basically, whatever I say, he nods. Just once, I'd like to see some initiative from your father."
All of that caught me off guard. Since my parents never really argue or fight, I thought everything was hunky-dory with them.

"Don't even get me started on his job." Mom went on. "Your father has no ambition. The only way he will ever get a promotion is if I buy the auto shop and promote him myself. Other than that, he pays the bills and I don't ever have to worry about him cheating on me."

I jerked a little, when Mom mentioned Dad cheating, but she didn't catch it. At the same time, there was so much missing from Mom's words. She didn't say anything about being satisfied with Dad, or if he took care of her needs in bed, or anything else that should have been important in a long-lasting marriage like theirs.

"It would be nice if he remembered our anniversary." Mom wistfully commented. "It would be nice if he remembered my favorite ice cream flavor. Tessa, you listen to your mother. If you end up with a man like your father, that's okay. But first, you have to go out there and take in the sights and experience all the things you want to experience in life. Once you settle down with a man like Lenny, all of that adventure goes away because your father just is not that adventurous."

While Mom fantasized about trips to Central and South America that my parents will never take, I wondered if after all those years, Mom knew anything at all about the man she'd married. I understood Dad because half of me was like him. My Mom didn't seem to understand him at all.

I've heard that opposites attract. That sure seems to be the case with my Mom and Dad. They are polar opposites in almost all of their characteristics. And then I've heard that like attracts like. That makes sense too, because I'm like Dad and he naturally seems to gravitate toward me. Or maybe he just gravitates toward my cool-oh.

I put everything that had gone on between Dad and me out of my mind. When Mom left for work, all that heat started stirring up inside of me, because Dad and I were the only people in the house. I don't know if Mom ever had passion for Dad, but I sure did.

I wasn't after Dad as in I wanted sex from him. I was after him because it was a thrill to chase him and to fluster him. Honestly, I would have messed around with him, but actual act of sex wasn't in my line of thinking. Sex is the end game for most men, and for most women, too. For me, it was like running a race. The fun part is actually doing the racing. When the race is over and the winner crosses the finish line, the race is over, and I didn't like the idea that the race would be finished forever like that. Maybe that won't make sense to you, but that's just how I think about things.

I had two bikinis to choose from. One was blue and the other red. I put on the red one and strode my way over to the living room. This time, Dad wasn't watching some old movie. Instead, he was engrossed with some black and white TV show about a gunslinger who spent a lot of time talking. Too much time talking, if you ask me. Of course, Dad's attention immediately switched over to me when he saw what I was wearing.

"The next time my friends head out to the River, I'm going." I said, before I turned around and showed off the twin and sizable assets of my ass. "Does this bikini make my butt look fat? Be honest!"

When Dad didn't reply, I looked over my shoulder. I expected him to gawk, and that's exactly what he was doing. I mean, seriously, what man can resist a Wonder Ass like mine? Kidding, kidding!

"Dad, I asked you a question."

"Your bikini doesn't make your butt look fat." He suspired. "It's your big butt that makes your butt look fat."

"Are you saying my butt is fat?"

He drew in another long breath. "Yes, it is."

"Are you saying I'm fat?"

"No, just your butt."

"Are you complaining about it?"

"No, I'm not complaining."

I caught a little smirk on his face. It quickly grew into a grin. Dad just sat there with a Cheshire Cat smile plastered on his face while he visually inspected my thick contours.

You know how I love to tease men. My bikini bottom was wide enough to cover most of my meat. However, there were times when I would rile up the young men at the River, by taking all that fabric and thinning it out in the middle of my butt. This left my entire swells open for public exhibition. I thought, I couldn't possibly do this to my Dad. I felt so hot and bothered, and then I was pulling the sides together and doing it.

Eye mamacita!

But I wasn't through yet. I turned around and strode right up to Dad. "I want a hug." I even made a pouting face and batted my eyelids. Those were the tools I was born with, and I was using them to further, cue the dramatic music... My Agenda!

Dad stood up and quickly wrapped his arms around me. Maybe he would chicken out if he waited too long, which was something I would have done. So now we were in each other's arms again, and I was in a bikini with my Nahl-gass almost fully exposed except for the red fabric running right down the middle. I remembered how the night before, it had taken geological time for my Dad to get into motion.

"Let's pretend." I whispered into his ear. "I'll pretend I'm at the River, and you can pretend to be one of the guys I mess around with."

"One of the guys? What do you mean one of the guys? How many guys do you mess around with?"

"I said that wrong." I quickly corrected myself. That's why I had to be careful about the sequence of words that came out of my mouth. Dad would freak if I said the wrong thing and our happy time would be over inmediatamentay. "I meant my boyfriend, from back when I had one. Since I don't have a boyfriend right now, I was being generic about it. I should have said like when Jack and I used to mess around together."

Dad had met Jack a couple of times. Knowing my ex-boyfriend's identity put him into some kind of ease, but don't ask me why. It was something familiar, at any rate, and that's what Dad latched onto. Still, Dad's hands were parked at the middle of my back, and noticeably keeping away from the string of my bikini top.

"Jack used to rub my back, just like you were doing yesterday." I encouraged him. I couldn't believe that I had to give step-by-step instructions for how Dad should seduce me. I could see why Mom was disappointed with that aspect of him. This disappointed me too. "I thought it felt nice to have my back rubbed."

Believe it or not, that got Dad moving. He covered the familiar ground of my upper back, my shoulders and my arms. It wasn't so bad then, because he was rubbing me and keeping me stimulated.

I put my mouth up close to his ear. "Sometimes, Jack touched my butt. I always let him do that."

I thought that hidden request would bring Dad up to another fork in the road, where he might balk or he might continue. But no, apparently his mind was cluttered with hot fantasies of my butt, because his hands swept down my spine, past my lower back and waist, and ended up resting lightly on, cue dramatic music... The Mountains.

We both gasped, but I have to say I gasped louder than he did. His fingers lingered there for a second, before his hands curved and cupped themselves around my swells. All on by himself, Dad started squeezing and groping me, and I thought it was wonderful! He did have some initiative in him after all!

I know that I wrote earlier how it was more about running the race than crossing over the finish line. Well, guess what? All of that went out the window when Dad started feeling me up that way. I had reached such a saturation point that I would have given in to any base he wanted to get to. My body was his to do with as he pleased.

I made a mistake. It was a stupid rookie mistake because he wasn't ready for it and it startled him and he couldn't compose his shy self after that. All I did was, and going on instinct mind you, to stick my hands under Dad's shirt and feel his bare back.

His hands left my butt and parked on my waist. That was it. He would not be going any further, and that was the end of everything! Very, very frustrating for me!

Ay, chew-pah me pee-toe! Ay, meece way-vos too bow-cah!

"Jack was a little nervous the first couple of times." I admitted, and that much was true. "The times after that, he got the hang of it. I'll just head over to my room now."

Mr. Hairbrush would have to satisfy me yet again, and this time I wasn't kidding. I now had one primary goal in life, and you can guess what that was, I'm sure!

"Meece way-vos too bow-cah!"

Just so you know, that translates from two crappy semesters in Spanish to my sack, your mouth. I kind of blurted it out the next afternoon when Mom and I were creating art out of little beads and plastic tubes. We were going for the rainbows and unicorns look for our bracelets. I ended up dropping a bunch of stuff on the floor when I tried to cross my legs and banged up against the table and that's why I cussed.

Well, Mom was sitting right across from me. The moment she heard my unique and fanciful expression, she started laughing so hard she almost fell out of her chair. I mean Mom kept going off about that right up until the moment she had to drive to work. I can imagine her laughing in her car and even at her job later, when she told her coworkers what I had said.

I feel I should say something here. I already told you how Mom and Dad were getting along quite splendidly. Nothing was wrong in their relationship. I guess I started feeling guilty about what Dad and I were doing behind her back. Maybe I should stop.

At the same time... I don't know how to say this. When Mom was around, I felt bad about it. When she was off at work, my mind went in a whole different direction. My mind was in a whirl over Dad. My body wanted more of his attention.

I decided I would stay in my room that night. If Dad came hunting for me, well. I guess we would have to see what may or may not transpire next.

Dad didn't watch one of his old movies that night. He stayed away from me at first, just in case I'd come to my senses and refused to go any further with him. I hadn't, but how could he know that unless I told him? Well, it was getting close to nine that night, when he came over to hover by my bedroom door.

I saw him standing just out of reach, and there my body went anticipating the many, many possibilities. I swear, I was vibrating in my chair just waiting for him to make his move on me.

Dad was the picture of peaceful patience, or maybe he thought my doorway had some kind of invisible force field on it, to prevent entry from unauthorized would-be daughter humpers.

I was in dire want, so much that I was compelled to flirt. "If you step into my room, you'd better be ready to do something with me."

One of those mini-tsunamis of heat swept through my entire body. That was among the more brazen things I'd ever said to a man. Well, maybe it was the most brazen!

Dad came in, wearing a cotton tee shirt and shorts. I was sitting at my desk, in a blouse with a couple of buttons on it and similar comfy shorts. At that moment, I was looking up examples of online, non-precious metal jewelry storefronts.

While I froze at the controls, with my eyes stuck on the monitor and my fingers dangling over the keyboard, Dad walked in and went to stand behind me. He wasn't shy for too long, as he soon had his hands resting on my shoulders. You can't imagine what I was feeling. I was in erotic suspense: waiting, wanting, hoping like a Hopi!

Dad ran his fingers through my hair. This made me think of my brush and what I'd been doing with it for like the last week! His dick must have been hard, hard for me, and only a couple of inches of chair were separating his body from mine.

He did something I thought was incredible, when he started caressing my throat. None of my boyfriends, or my one girlfriend, had ever aroused me like that. He touched my neck and throat with his fingers and palms, and then with the backs of his hands. It was very stimulating! When his fingers went to unbutton my shirt, I lowered my hands to the armrests and squeezed the edge. I squeezed hard! I was so dizzy I felt drunk, and my breaths were mucho cali-ehntay!

Dad's hand crept into my shirt. At first, he touched my lower throat, and then his fingers dipped in a little lower to the start of my chest. His fingertips went to circle near the start of my breasts, but they were reluctant little lovers. I thought Dad had gotten shy on me again, when he withdrew his hands to my shoulders and paused for a rest break.

"Why aren't you stopping me?" He asked.

I didn't have much willpower left; believe me! "If you go too far, I will."

"I haven't gone too far yet?"

"Not yet." I panted. "I'll tell you when."

This got his complacent hands into motion again. I was still holding my armrests in a death grip, caught in that sweet sensation of sensual delirium. Dad's hands made their little circles down the front of my shirt, not inside like before. He ran one hand across the top of my chest, over the fabric, before he drew it back to give his other hand the same special window of opportunity. When Dad did this a second time, his hands slipped a little lower, to the start of my chest.

My breaths were speeding out of my throat as if there was no speed limit posted for them. And then he starts making little circles on my breasts. Dad wasn't fondling or groping me like a bad guy. By contrast, he was doing things the right way; the way I liked it. He was being tender with his fingers, running them lightly over my shirt like a miniature massage. When his palms came into play, they brushed and didn't push. Even when Dad's fingers curved, they weren't claws but firm feathers.

I couldn't help but close my eyes and moan. This game him impetus to dive into my collar. The two grasping appendages reverted into the one-armed man, who reached in and drew erotic crop circles on the uncovered portion of my breasts and on the silky soft bra underneath. I mewled for Daddy, as his fingertips pried between my bra and flesh. He was so close to striking a vein like a miner from the Gold Rush, but in this case the vein was my hidden nipple. Oh, oh! His fingers skimmed across the edge of it! And there they went back for another Hail Mary pass!

Meece chee-cheese!

That's it! Tilt, tilt, Dad has hit the jackpot!

Full of volcanic steam, I jumped to my feet and nearly dropped us both when I pounced on him. You might think that our kisses would be awkward, but, honey, you weren't there to witness it! My mouth locked onto his to keep him from running, while my arms grabbed him and my legs were rubbing all over his. I was so hot I was melting!

Some way, somehow, we both fell over on the bed. When I moved my head to the side to release the exhaust from my mouth, Dad decided to further impress upon me that his reserved nature was no longer in the building.

My shirt was lifted up to reveal my belly, before Dad's mouth dropped a crate full of kisses on it. It was my turn to run my hands through his hair, as he explored me from the top of my shorts to the folds of my shirt. He was going slow and steady, but I didn't mind that! When he pushed my shirt up a little more, revealing my bra, I thought, is he really going to do this to me? Well, I did dare him, didn't I?

Oh, yes! Dad was licking the valley forge, then tonguing up the sides of the rises, then mouthing on the silk-capped hills. When he moved my bra out of the way, I thought, here it comes! Sensory overload! Maximum heat levels reached! The only thing I could think of was him on top, and his dick inside of me!

If I didn't do something, he might lick my chee-cheese all night! As I have previously mentioned, this was not a bad thing. However, my lower half was so fired up it wanted to start bucking up and down without him!

Mee pah-no-chah!

I pulled Dad up so I could kiss him. I was taking a big chance, I know, by reaching down to his shorts when he was close enough. If I did this wrong, he might bolt like a woodland fox, but if I did it right, the rewards were fantastic! No sudden moves, Tessa, no herky-jerky! So I did what he'd done, in that I used one hand, and one hand only, to draw little circles on his stomach. He must have been too preoccupied with my lips, as he didn't seem to notice when I reached lower to caress the front of his shorts. His dick was right there, waiting for the moment to come onstage!

I felt its bulge, and its form, and its angle as it was pressed and hidden in Dad's shorts. Taking another risk, I sent my hand into the loose gap of his shorts and rubbed on the item of note concealed down there. With both of us huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf versus the three little pigs, I started yanking on Dad's shorts enough for him to get the message.

He pulled his shorts and briefs down. I set my hand on his hard dick, and I made a very unexpected discovery. Wait; let me correct that a little. Okay, so I had imagined that Dad was like a normal guy, with a penis that was, you know, proportional to his height. When my hand grasped what he had there, I realized he was a little short. I wasn't expecting an eight-inch piece of lumber or anything, but it was... different.

Because I knew my Dad, sometimes even better than Mom did, this 'find' made a lot of sense. My dad was quiet and reserved, and maybe a big reason for this was because his manhood wasn't what it could have been. It was smaller than normal, but you don't exactly get the choice of a big one when you're born, right?

I think I paused for just a split second too long. My senses told me that Dad was about to freak on me and leave my room at a fifty-yard dash. I reacted faster than he did. Before he could pull away, and since I already had my hand on it, I started tugging on him. Evidently, he liked that, because I could feel him relaxing after a few tugs, and he went back to kissing me the longer I did it. For a second, I thought he'd already cum, since he had all sorts of cream on him already. That was what in medical terms we might call pre-ejaculation. Pre-Jack! I kept going and going like that dumb little pink rabbit in the TV commercials, up until the pre-jack became the jack-off main event. Dad creamed, and he creamed a lot!

Mucho grande way-vos!

He didn't leave right after we were done, either. He kissed me until I manhandled his head and aimed it at my tits. Then he licked me for a good, long while. I knew I had reached a boundary with him, and that was okay for that night. Maybe I would give him another tumble on another night.

Well, not maybe but probably.

Okay, okay. I know what you're thinking! Not probably, but totally fur shure, dude!

Pee-toe chi-kee-toe.

That means miniature Vienna sausage to the cultured, and little pecker to the swine and swineherds. That's what I kept thinking of the next day.

Dad had a small penis and he was married to Mom who was a couple of inches taller than he was. How in heck did he satisfy her? I figured it was thanks to all the tenderness and the kissing he did. I know Dad cuddled with me like fifty times longer than the average Jack and Tom.

It really got me thinking. You know that saying; that nice guys finish last? That couldn't be right, because Mom was attractive and she was as stable as they come. That made me speculate about another general idea; that a young woman can wear herself out with the bad buys, and then settle down with the good provider type. So now I was wondering how many lovers Mom had before she married Dad. Maybe I should ask her. On second thought, maybe not. What if she said she'd slept with fifty bad boys before Dad put a ring on her finger? Eeww!

What was certain, my dears, is that when it came to me, Dad was going to get a big fat bonus. You know I'm talking about my butt, right?

The next evening, Mom left at six. I was walking around the house while shaking my caboose in my red bikini at six-thirty. Dad looked hungry, and I don't mean for dinner because Mom fed him a bucket before she took off.
"Stay here." Dad told me.

I watched him head over to my room.

When Dad came back, he said, "I left some clothes on your bed. Can you put them on for me, please?"

The first thing that crossed my mind was that I'd taken things too far. The second thing was that I should go and have a look at what Dad had picked out. Not knowing what to expect, I complied. Lo and behold, I saw a full outfit lying on my bed: a shirt I use when I hang out with my friends, some jeans, socks and sneakers. Wondering what Dad was up to, I went ahead and traded the conservative attire for my skimpy, and I thought, very provocative swimwear.

Dad was waiting for me in the living room. When he saw I'd changed, he asked me to follow him outside. I wondered where we were going when he walked straight over to his SUV. I went to stand by the passenger door, ready to have a seat, when Dad came by and had me scoot over to the door for the back seats. Okay, I guess I'm supposed to sit in the back today, wondering where we were going. But no, Dad made an exasperated face at me.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Do you remember that day you dropped the beads? Pretend you're picking them up like you did that day."

I looked down at my clothes, realizing only then that it was the same outfit I'd worn on that occasion. That was the day I'd been scooping up crap from the floorboards while my big butt was raised in the air. I was being asked to perform, cue the dramatic music... A Reenactment Of An Actual Event. Names And Identities Have Been Changed To Protect The Innocent!

From the start, I saw a couple of problems with this. One, we were outside, and while it was getting dark and people hardly ever drove by on our isolated road, there was still a small chance that we could be spotted. Two, if Dad had any erotic designs on me, he wasn't going to get anywhere with me wearing my super-tight jeans. To humor Dad, I went ahead and crawled onto the back seat and gave him the spectacular view of my backside splendor. It was a small sea of denim, I tell you!

Dad stayed close to the door, more or less where he'd been standing on that day the Fates had set aside for us. At first, I figured he would reach in to have himself a feel of me, but he didn't do that. When nothing happened, and nothing stretched on for a long moment, I glanced over my shoulder. Dad had that intense stare going on, just like the last time. Also, he had pulled his shorts down to stroke himself off.

Maybe this wouldn't have turned on a lot of women out there, because Dad was doing his thing and not putting a hand on me. With me, things were different. I guess I got this from Dad, but I was highly turned on by what he was doing. I was bent over in the car, while he was jerking off in my honor. It made me so hot I felt like playing with myself, but maybe that wouldn't have jived with his pre-determined fantasy.

I heard him groaning back there. The couple of times I glanced over my shoulder, I saw him standing there with his face in distress and his hand making like a blur. I caught how his voice changed when he was getting ready to burst, and I saw him blow like Mt. Saint Helens when he hit the jackpot. He creamed all over his hands, so much I saw it leaking in streams from his fingers.

Watch out, Mr. Blue Hairbrush, I thought, because the second I get back inside I am coming for you, pun intended.

About an hour later, I was back in the living room wearing my red bikini. The dumb hairbrush had not done the job, unfortunately, and I was looking for an encore.

"Dad, it's my turn." I said. It was more like a subdued command, actually.

He nodded back. "Okay."

"I say when we've gone too far."

"Okay."

"We need to go outside to your car."

He nodded and got up, but he didn't say okay this time.

It was closing in on eight by then, with the woods dark around the house and moths and all kinds of other flying vermin in the air. I didn't care about that. The light on the porch was staying off, obviously, while we could see well enough thanks to the glow from the living room windows. It was cool, but I didn't think it would stay that way for very much longer.

I had to trick Dad, I figured, to get what I wanted. The first step in my plan was to approach the back door to the SUV. I opened it up, but this time I didn't crawl onto the seat. I leaned over, with half of me in the car and my feet still on the ground. You could say that my butt was the bait.

"One night, Jack felt me up while I was leaning into the car like this." I said, hotly. "I want you to pretend you're Jack."

Dad didn't mind the role-play, but at first he was clumsy about it. He set his hands on my sides, probably wondering how Jack went about it, but I refused to come forth with any more hints. This forced him to go by his past voyages. The soft rubbing began on my middle, from the small of my back around to my stomach. The way I was leaning made him get up so close, so our legs were out, while the rest of us were in. His shirt and shorts were on me, probably too close for his tastes, but not close enough for mine.

After a couple minutes, Dad must have figured he'd felt up my chest before, because he slid his soft hands around to cup my breasts. That was definitely the most erotic moment I can remember. It was just sooo hot! Or should I say, muy caliente!

I then did, cue dramatic music... The Unthinkable. Dad's hands retreated down to my ribs and belly again. In the interim, I braced my body up with one arm, while I tugged my bikini top away from my tits with the other. This caused me to shuffle around just by a smidgeon, but I was hoping Dad would not notice because he was huffing and puffing at my back. When his longing fingers circled their way back up to my dangling frutas, I felt him shudder against me.

He had a mini-eruption right then. Part of it was because I'd tricked him into finding bare flesh, which in his mind must not have been a possibility. The other part, I theorize, is he reacted that way because I was putting his fantasy into fast forward, not to mention making it a reality. Dad groaned out loud, and, for the first time, he actually gave my tits a rough squeeze. I wondered if he might have ejaculated into his shorts right then. Well, I certainly hoped not!

I dropped the barest hint to him. "My top is in the way now."

Because he was already breathing hard on my back, it didn't take much effort for him to undo the little knot holding my top up. Once that was gone, I pulled the top away and crossed my fingers again that I hadn't gone too far past Dad's invisible boundaries. Lucky for me he didn't, and he added my hanging breasts to his circular jaunts. At one point, he cupped them while kissing my back, and let me tell you, that moment was now the most erotic of my life! Yes, sir, we were breaking records tonight!

An awareness of time must have crept into Dad's sensual stupor. "Have we gone too far? Should I stop?"

Oh, oh! Dad was about to spazz! I had to think quickly!

"Tessa?" He asked, because I'd taken too long to answer.

"I was just thinking of how Jack had me that night. I think my bottoms were down and he was brushing up behind me. I have an idea! Why don't you hold me around the waist so I won't fall, and then I can move my bottoms? After that, you can brush against me a few times like Jack did. Can you do that for me?"

You know what I wanted, and I know what I wanted. Dad, well, Dad was Dad. He needed help to figure things like this out!

He did it, though. He grabbed me around the middle while I pulled at my bottoms. I only got them as far as the tops of my thighs, which made them roll up tight, but no matter about that! Progress was being made! The show must go on!

"How did Jack brush on you?" He asked, nervously.

"Maybe it wasn't brushing but pushing." I answered, before I gave him another cue. "Maybe his shorts were down, so they, you know, so they wouldn't be in the way."

I think he deliberately ignored me at first. Dad's hands went to my sides, while his abdomen began rubbing against my butt. He made a few thrusts with his shorts clapping against my bare body, and I began to fear again that he might climax without me.

"Definitely, his shorts were pulled down." I told him. "I just know they were."

There was excitement, and there was excitement. Dad was making the transition between the former and the latter. Would he capitulate or not? That was the question for the ages that we must find the answer to!

Dad rubbed against me so hard I thought he would smear. He sounded like he was running a marathon while standing still. After this, for a couple of seconds he backed up and let the night breeze come by to give my butt goose pimples. I thought maybe I'd see Dad running into the house, but no, he stayed behind me rustling his clothes. When Dad finally cut the distance between us, I felt that little part of him rubbing against first the back of my thigh, and second on the curve of my butt.

Excuse me, intermission. Let's clear something up. When I said Dad was a little guy. I don't want you to imagine a micro-penis, or an inverted sack. Hold on...

That sack comment so funny I had to step away from my desk. I'm back now. Ah, the joys of having affairs with your own kin. Where was I?

Dad, was, hmmm. I'd guess he was around five inches long, based on prior hand measurement comparisons. So he wasn't too small, for, I don't know, tiny women like those from the Philippines or Vietnam or something. For tall girls like myself, and mi madre Fiona, he was, how should I say this in a nice way? He was good, but he could have been better. That is not a complaint; it is an observation. I love my Dad!

So, I felt it. It rubbed on me and poked and prodded around back there. I didn't think Dad was going to put it in, until I felt his hand sneaking in between our bodies. He aimed it, but instead of piercing, he rubbed my petals. I thought for sure his loud groans were carrying all the way to the neighbor's house. I was making the exact same noise, except I felt like I had a fever going on in my head.

Dad poked just a little bit in, maybe just the head, before he paused to see if I would make a scene so he'd stop. By that point, I couldn't even form words with my mouth; it was all coming out steam!

He slid in a little more, getting halfway in, and then a little more, and just like that he was in Full Insertion Mode. I'm sure that by then was waking the neighbors in the next county over.

"Jack was fast!" I panted out. "Jack was really fast!"

That got him chugging along. I had a second where I wondered what the incest laws were like in that state, and that maybe I should look them up very soon, just in case, because Dad and I were now complicit in the Forbidden Act. Oh, crap, I forgot to cue the dramatic music that time. You get the picture. We were doing it, and we weren't stopping for anybody! (Well, with the potential exception in the case Mom's headlights suddenly popped up down the road, but thank Fate when that didn't happen!)

I was breathless! I was in heat! I was... Cue the sound of a record scratching.

Dad got what I want to call wedding night jitters. He couldn't go through with it. At the last possible moment, he pulled out and sputtered cream all over my butt and thighs. I thought, huh? No, no, don't do that! Finish the job! Complete the mission!

Pinchay cabronay!

He had me, and then he let me go! It was like blowing out the candles on a birthday cake, but not being allowed to eat it! It was like when I first got my driver's license, and then I didn't have a car to drive! Damn it! It's not fair!

Dad prodded me out of the car. After he turned me around, he put his arms around me and he smothered me with so many impassioned kisses that I nearly forgot about how my orgasm was stolen away from me. Nearly, but not completely, mind you.

I already told you about how I thought like my Dad. Okay, so maybe he hadn't gone all the way with me, in my head, but in his head, he had definitely found his finish line. I just had to let him know, in a discreet fashion, that my finish line was just a little farther ahead than his.

Since Dad's spent dick was brushing on my legs, while I was feeling him up I would stray my hand down there and touch it. I put my fingers on it, feeling all that sticky cream we'd collaborated on producing. His dick was so close to my pussy. I squeezed it a couple of times, just to let it know that it was welcome to come back for another visit.

After that, it got too cold and we both scampered back inside.

It was really hard to look Mom in the eye the next day. We were in our little corner of the house making our jewelry. The entire time I was fumbling around and dropping stuff all over the table and floor. For some strange reason I kept thinking about things shaped like dicks.

For example, Mom made a veggie salad, and she just mentioned that she'd put sliced cucumbers in it. Did I like the cucumbers, she asked. Of course that made my entire fat face turn red. Later, this song I like started up on the radio. I was dancing away to the beat while sitting on my chair, when I reached out for my water bottle. For some reason, my hand didn't let go of the bottle. I wasn't doing this consciously, okay, but I noticed that my hand was rubbing up and down on my water bottle as if it was a dick. Basically, I was trying to jerk off a water bottle!

"Is everything okay with you?" Mom asked, because she had definitely noticed.

I went red again, right before I put both hands on my lap so I wouldn't do anything else that was so stupid.

"Is there something you want to talk about?" Mom inquired. "You've been acting strange all morning."

I shrugged. "Um, well, it's about this guy I like. He's kind of playing hard to get with me."

Mom shook her head. "That's what I don't understand about your generation. When I was your age, girls were supposed to play hard to get, not guys."

"That's because you're old fashioned." I teased.

"I wouldn't say that. I did a few wild things in my time."

"Like what?"

That got Mom talking, and thankfully, it distracted me enough that I finally calmed down and got on with making my jewelry.

You would have to go through something like this to really understand it. I had the hots for Dad, and he had the hots for me. Mom would probably be devastated if she ever caught us, and I knew that, but it was one of those things where the risk and the thrill was enough to eclipse the wrongness of it. The reward was worth the precariousness of the situation. Ya know?

And there I went, prancing around the living room in my bikini once Mom had left for work. This time I had my white bikini on, and I did the same thing I was always doing to get Dad's attention. I stood before him and gave him my back, and I looked over my shoulder. "Does this bikini make my butt look fat?"

"Yes." Dad nodded, but I caught the smirk he was trying to hide.

It didn't matter that he had a rolled taco instead of beefy burrito. A girl knows what she wants!

"Dad, you're so mean!" I pouted, and I did that thing again, where I take the wide fabric of my bottoms and pull it between my butt-cheeks. "How about now?"

"Your butt still looks fat." He nodded.

With my back turned, I took my bikini off. No sooner was I left naked, than Dad was behind me. He pulled me against his chest, rubbing his hands up and down my sides. Dad took a second to get my hair out of the way, before his lips mouthed my neck and his hands explored the rest of me.

I had imagined it would take ten years before Dad took the lead in our little sessions, but I was wrong. He was kissing me like he meant it, and his hands took their time in touching me and rubbing me. He made little circles on my chest and stomach, and he rubbed my pubic hair and caressed my pussy.

If he did this kind of stuff to Mom, I could see how she would accept his smaller size. Dad might not have had the biggest dick in the world, but he made up for that in so many other ways. Ways that the typical guy would never contemplate.

"Should I pretend to be Jack again?" He whispered into my ear, when we were both panting and ready for the next step.

"No. You can leave Jack out of the picture this time. I want you to pretend you're my Dad."

He didn't flinch. I guess he'd gotten past that part. What he did was to back up by a couple of feet. This was far enough for him to take off his clothes. When he got close to me again, I felt his dick pressing against my body. That's when I ran away from him, laughing all the way to my room.

Dad probably expected for us to get all tangled up in our foreplay, but I felt we'd done enough of that already in the living room. When he came into the room, naked and with his little rod sticking up, I was waiting for him on my bed. At first, I was on all fours, but as he got closer, I dropped my head down and let my fat ass stick up toward the ceiling, like a great big mountain of pleasure. I'm sure it reminded him of that day when I dropped the beads, because it did the trick. He crawled on the bed behind me, and he got to it straight away.

This was so much better than doing it outside. Dad was giving me everything he had, with his hands clenched at my sides and his body slapping against me. It was really hard for me to keep my focus because I was full of moans and soft shrieks, but I knew I had to or else things wouldn't go my way. This was important!

I thought Dad had been loud the night before, but he was really grunting up a major storm this time. Maybe the worry about being caught outside had inhibited him then, but no more! Dad had gone Spring Break wild!

Mom and I had been cursing in Spanish for so long, it sometimes came out of our mouths automatically. That's exactly what happened this time.

"Ching-ah mee cool-oh!" I cried out. "Ching-ah mee cool-oh!"

Dad must have liked hearing that, because his fast train went into overdrive. What he was doing to me now could be accurately called pounding by those lesser versed than I. Let them eat cake, I say, let them eat cake!

"Oh! Oh!" I hoarsely demanded. "Ching-ah may! Ching-ah may!"

I almost missed it; that moment when Dad was so close to coming he pulled out. When I realized what he was doing, and that he was about to finish up by himself, I turned around and pounced on him. Before he could even react, I had him on his back. It was kind of awkward because he was way over on the edge of my bed, but I didn't care! I had to act fast!

Half the day, I'd been wondering how I would handle this particular moment. I could have opted to mount my dad the normal way. Then we would be looking at each other and he might have gone into his conniptions. That's why I selected to mount him the opposite way. I shifted around and sat on his waist, letting him stare at my hair, my back, and of course, the twin globes that had started it all.

The second I got Dad inside of me, I started bouncing on him. We were both teetering on the edge of orgasms, and this time, Dad wouldn't be celebrating alone!

"Is this going too far?" I heard him ask.

I only had one second to shake my head, before my bliss came tumbling out of me. Right after that I was crying out and shaking. I ground my teeth together while my throat let some kind of new, throaty gasp out of me, and then I was huffing and being taken over by so much WOW that I could hardly breathe. I was coming for Daddy!

"Ay, kay rico! Ay muy bueno! Ay, ay, ay!"

I swear, I must have sounded like a cartoon right then. I almost didn't catch when Dad hit his sweet spot I was so loud! I did feel when his hands clawed into my ass, and if I concentrated enough, I could sense his little pencil shaking out. Okay, not a pencil. More like a dry erase marker. Well, a little thicker than that! If you're tall like me, just make a circle with your index finger and your thumb, and that's my Dad's thickness!
"Mi cool-oh, mi cool-oh." I kept saying, distracting Dad from understanding that he'd really gone all the way with me. That he'd nutted in me.

When he wilted away, I turned over and lay on top of him. At first, he was nervous because of what we'd done, more anxious than anything else that had come before. I had to pacify him with my kisses, and also, because, you know, I wanted some more of him on a future occasion.

Jack and Tom, those guys I could flush down the toilet! Sorry, Mr. Hairbrush! There is a new guy in town, and he's the one I want!

I think we kissed for like an entire hour. The smoke detector in my room almost went off, seriously. After all that, I noticed that Dad had gotten hard again. I rolled around on my bed until I was on my back, and I waited. He looked at me like he wanted round two.

"Choo-pah meese chee-chees." I started wiggling for him. "Ching-ah meese pahn-oh-cha! Ay, papi! Ching-ah, ching-ah!"

Well, wouldn't you know it; Dad understood everything I said. He was bilingual now!

I swear, I had not forgotten about Mom. I really felt guilty sometimes! I looked at her and I thought, shit, she must have figured it out by now! But she hadn't. She would go on about her day obliviously like she always did. Mom would sit across from me and we would get our box of supplies out and we'd create jewelry. She would talk about the usual: how things were going at work, how somebody might have won a jackpot, what some crazy drunk guy had done the night before, stuff like that.

I had this idea that maybe I could bring Mom into this happy little world Dad and I had gotten into. She was standing up one day, jabbering on like she normally did, when I decided to give it a try. I walked up behind Mom and hugged her. She thought it was a typical embrace, and that I would let her go after a couple of seconds, but I didn't. I nuzzled my mouth up against her cheek and started kissing her. At first, Mom figured they were my regular pecks, but as I kept doing it, the idea that I was being romantic with her must have sunk in.

Abruptly, Mom pulled away and literally tossed the necklace she was making onto the table. Then she hurried all the way across the room before she turned to face me. The look on her face told me I had made a very bad error in judgment. She looked disgusted.

"What the hell was that?" She asked.

I didn't know what to say, so I just shrugged.

"You must be messing around with another girl." Mom assumed.

Mom and I were pretty open with each other. I always told her about my boyfriends. When I got on the wrong side of the street, as she might put it, I had told her about that, too. This new thing was a lie, but I went with it. "Yes."

"You keep your weird ideas away from me!"

"I just thought it would be nice to kiss you. I'm sorry!"

"Don't ever do that to me again!"

Mom stormed off. She didn't talk to me for the rest of the day.

Dad had never been my confidant, not until that night when Mom was gone. I went and sat next to him in the living room, while he was looking for an old movie to put on.

"I have to tell you something." I started.

"Sure, honey. Did you come to your senses yet?"

I thought that was a funny question. Dad was asking me very politely if he should stop fucking me. I almost laughed, but then I sucked it up and got serious again.

"It's about Mom." I said, and I told him.

"Oh." Dad said, when he'd heard the story. He set his hand over mine to console me. "She was something else when she was younger, I'll tell you that much. Maybe all that errant behavior stayed in the past. I understand how you feel. I've felt the same way a few times myself. If she reacted that way with you, she'll probably do a Mt. Saint Helens with me. Let's just not mention it to her. I know. We can sit here and watch a movie together and we don't have to do anything else. You can pick the movie, okay?"

That wasn't how Dad usually talked. He was nervous about getting caught, and he felt as guilty as I did, but he also understood what I was going through. I found a movie for us to watch. It was a light comedy. When I sat down next to Dad, I put my hand on his. That movie turned out to be a good selection, because we both got into it. Halfway through it, Dad put his arm around me and held me like a girlfriend. He didn't push me in any way; he just held me like that until the movie was over.

I don't think I ever loved him emotionally as much as I did that night. If Dad were my age, he would have been perfect for me, even more perfect than he was for Mom.

My Sabbatical lasted all of two days. When Mom and I started talking normally again, I got all wiggly with Dad. I couldn't help showing off for him and trying to entice him into my room. One night, he sat before the TV and waggled his finger side to side.

"Not tonight, honey." He said, in what I would call a prissy way. "I haven't seen this specific movie in years. I really want to watch it! Go play with your hairbrush!"

I told him about Mr. Blue Hairbrush. I had whispered it into his ear one time when we were on my bed. I said I sometimes used it while thinking of him, especially on nights when Mom was home.

That's when I went on an impassioned tear. "I don't give a shit about your movie! Ching-ah may! Ching-ah may!"

Dad could only take so much. I bagged him. Twice.

He loved playing with my ass. There were times when Dad would have me lie on my bed, on my stomach. He would spend half the night kissing my body, from the back of my neck and all the way down to the soles of my feet. His favorite bus stop was my ass. He put his mouth on it, and he ran his tongue down the middle, and he squeezed it so much he left it sore sometimes. Dad liked watching me lying that way and wiggling around so my ass would shake. He said it looked like gelatin when I did that.

I guess!

One night, he tried something different. Maybe I should have expected this, because Dad turned out to be such an ass freak. He had been playing with my big butt so much I stopped paying attention. I know he left my room for about a minute, and then he came back and resumed his frolic. Everything was going fine until I felt his slippery finger heading in a direction I did not expect.

I turned on my side to look at him. "Excuse me?"

Dad had that feverish look on his face that he got whenever we messed around.

"Where exactly were you planning on sticking that finger?"

"I just wanted to try it."

"In my butt, you mean?" I sat up, spotting the little plastic bottle he'd come in with. "What is that?"

"Lubricant."

"Why do you have lubricant?"

"It's for your mother. Sometimes we use it when she goes dry."

That was something unexpected for me. I always assumed that Mom and Dad had a healthy, normal sex life, just like everybody else. These were all weird revelations for me. My Dad was smaller than average for a man, and Mom got so dry sometimes that she needed lube. "Does Mom let you put your finger in her butt?"

"No." Dad shook his head. "She would never do that."

"But you think I would be okay with it? Why?"

Dad shrugged.

"Why?"

"Because in some ways, you're wilder than she is."

"Really?" I wondered. That was fascinating for me; the idea that Mom who liked to brag so much about the good old days wasn't as reckless as she made out to be. "How am I more wild than Mom?"

"When we first met, we would pull over at some random spot on the road and have sex right there. She hasn't done that with me in almost two decades. Fiona doesn't wear any bikinis in the house, and she certainly does not pull the fabric between her butt like you do. I don't think she's worn a bikini at all in the last ten years. Fiona never walks around the house naked, we only have sex once or twice a week, she never wants to try anything new anymore..."

"Okay, I get it." I cut him off.

Was I really that much wilder than Mom? Was Dad that much wilder than Mom? Are you serious? Major Wow!

Dad's finger was still covered in slippery gooey stuff. I'd watched that kind of porn before. I knew that when girls had things in their butts, they always masturbated.

"Okay." I said. "We'll try it."

I let Dad get beside me. He put his finger in me, while I raised my leg and rubbed my pussy. It was totally fantastic! I came like thirty seconds later, and then I got on all fours and Dad made me come a second time.

"Mom, what do you think about anal?"

We were making jewelry together, on her day off.

"What?" Mom blurted out. She actually jumped to her feet when I asked that. "Why would you bring something like that up?"

"I thought I could ask you anything." I replied. "Some of my friends were talking about it, that's all."

"Your guy friends?"

"No, it was girl talk." I admitted. It wasn't really a lie. My girlfriends and I really had talked about it, after I had brought it up to them. "I was just wondering if you and Dad ever tried it."

"Your father and I have never done that together. You know, you've been getting some really weird ideas from your friends lately."

"Just forget I said it. Forget I brought it up."

"I never want to hear that word come out of your mouth again!"

"This is a whole new generation, Mom. Even people on TV are talking about it."

"There is something very wrong with this country today!"

That's it. That's all Mom said, before she stormed off and left me there creating jewelry by myself. She'd flown off the handle and now she was gone.

I couldn't sleep that night, because I was thinking about Dad. I used my hairbrush to help satiate me, and it did for a while. It wasn't enough.

The next time, I went into my cosmetics and found something that I could use as lube. I smeared it on my brush handle. I got on my bed and stuck the brush in my butt while I played with myself. That's what I needed to put myself to sleep.

You know that thinking too much gets me in trouble. What I was thinking that night was that Dad was just a little bit bigger than Mr. Hairbrush.

"Dad, this time you're getting my finger." I said, the next time Mom was out at work. I thought for sure that Dad might run out of the room when I said that, but he hadn't done a whole lot of running lately, had he?

"I don't want your finger in my butt."

"This is a whole new generation, where we have this thing called equal opportunity. Go get your lube."

No way, I thought. No way Dad will go for that. He did it. Right in front of my eyes, he got up and went to get what I asked for. I ran off this time, into my room. When he got there, I was already naked.

"This is highly confidential between us." Dad said.

"I know. It's Top Secret!"

I told him about Mom's reaction the time I mentioned anal sex. He wasn't surprised. He said Mom had always been repulsed by the mention of it.

"We need to start being more careful." He said.

Dad took off his clothes. He lay on his side, and he let me stick my finger in his butt. After that, he started masturbating until he came. I can't say he was louder than the times when we had sex, but he was pretty loud.

"Did you think it was another man?" I teased him.

"No! Absolutely not! I knew it was you the entire time!"

"But you liked it, didn't you?"

"As much as you do. Sure, I liked it."

"When you do it to me, I'll do it to you." I resolved. "That's equal opportunity. Deal?"

He agreed, because he couldn't get enough of me, just like I couldn't get enough of him. In fact, we were so enraptured with one another that we kissed and touched until he was hard again.

"It must be your turn now." I said, reaching over to get the lubricant. He held his hand out, assuming he was about to smear it on his finger. "No, I'll do it this time."

Dad's hand hovered in the air, waiting for the cream to arrive, but it never did. That was because I didn't put it there. I rubbed it all over his dick instead.

He didn't say anything when I mounted him in reverse, but he did gasp. I held his dick up so I could sit on it. I had a little trouble aiming it, but like I said, it wasn't that much bigger than my brush handle. I got it in there.

Maybe it would be just like Dad's finger, I had figured before I did it, where I could keep it in place while I rubbed myself. That's not how it turned out. Dad was big enough that I felt like riding him for a while. It was a new ay caramba for me. I really got into it, feeling that little rolled taco going into my butt where it wasn't supposed to go.

I thought I could lean forward, but no, it popped out a couple of times and I had to put it back in. My mind, my wicked mind, went back to the associated press porn I'd seen before. Instead of leaning forward, I leaned back and locked out my arms. This was something different for me. I was hovering over Dad, raising and lowering my hips on him, while he was stuck inside my butt.

Dad held me up from my waist, otherwise I would have fallen on him. When I settled on him to catch my breath, he put a hand on my chest and sent me into overload. My arms and legs were tired by then, since I wasn't used to holding my entire weight up in the air like that. I got off, pun not intended this time, and I rolled over on my stomach.

"I can't do it anymore. I'm too tired." I panted. "You have to finish it."

Dad got on my back. His dick pushed its way past my cheeks, into that dark and forbidden place. Not the finger this time, and not my brush, but his supreme manliness! I keep telling you about the most erotic moment ever. With Dad's body over mine, and his hips slapping against my ass, this was the new epic. There was no need for me to use my fingers, because my mind was bringing me up to the point of bliss contact.

My groans were venting out through gritted teeth. "Ching-ah mee cool-oh! Ching-ah mee cool-oh!"

I heard Dad come. His arms were stretched out at my sides, with his body weight not as heavy as before. This game me the space I needed to push my hand down there. While Dad was quivering in my butt, I gave myself the last few crucial rubs so that we could come together.

It was the most amazing feeling in the world, to have Dad panting on the back of my head, and later kissing my neck, while he petered out inside of me.

I could go on. There is so much more I could say. Dad was the best lover I've ever had, end of story and despite his physical shortcoming.

We almost got caught one time, when Mom had a headache at work and got her butt send home early. If we hadn't seen her headlights flashing by through the window, there was a very good chance that she would have seen us having sex. Dad was behind me, with his hands on my chest and his cock in my butt, while I had my leg raised high and was busy rubbing my pussy raw.

We would have gotten caught, if I'd stayed living there. That's why I moved out. Not to worry, because I know Mom's schedule and I do visit Dad quite often. Maybe this is all, like, wickedness, as Mom might say.

I disagree. Guys like Jack and Tom ended up with my other girlfriends, thank goodness, and not me. They were ultimate boring.

Dad, on the other hand, was perfect for me.
Log in or Sign up to continue reading!