On Friday night the diner closed at ten pm, the rest of the week it closed at eight. The late close, with the end of the day clean up, and Saturday morning opening prep, it would be a short night's sleep. If she was lucky four hours, but the kitchen sink faucet was leaking, and she was stuck while her step dad fixed the sink. Britney wiped down the diner's counter one last time and tossed the rag onto a pile of dirty rags near the kitchen door. Running through her head was a mental checklist of things to be done at day's end, she didn't think anything was left to do. She sighed, the day done, then reached up and removed the claw style hair clip, and shook her hair out. Freed of the clip, her raven black hair dropped in long curls over the shoulders of her white blouse. She flipped a curl off her face, and gathered the cleaning rags, then headed to the kitchen.
David Douglass was uncomfortable, he had his six feet six, two hundred and twenty five pound body wedged between the freezer and the sink, knees slightly bent, his back and shoulders under the sink. Wearing a pair of Wrangler carpenter jean shorts, and the once white t shirt he'd worn under the button up shirt he cooked in. The gasket for the drain had dripped for a while, a bucket had handled the problem, but the rinse sprayer had suddenly started leaking when used, that was often during the day, and filled the bucket too often to be tolerable. So he'd waited until the diner closed, having had to empty the five gallon bucket twice during the dinner shift, water was money and ten gallons a night was insane, he'd jammed himself under the sink and worked on making repairs. He reached for the Channel Locks he'd used only a minute earlier, vaguely remembering they'd slid off his leg, and bounced out of sight. He reached around, unable to see them, wiggling against the floor in an effort to get a little more room, and only managed to twist his jean shorts on his hips until they were tight between his legs. "Fuck," Dave mumbled.
Britney came into the kitchen, heard his curse, and smiled. Stepping between her stepdads knees and dropped the half dozen bar rags in the sink. "How's it going?" she asked.
"Great, at this rate, I'll have it fixed next Tuesday," He replied from under the sink, "Do you see the Channel Locks, blue handles long plyers? I had them a minute ago, I think they fell somewhere near my leg." He looked out toward her and only saw long tan legs, and the bottom hem of her cranberry colored skirt, the skirt was part of the wait staff's uniform. He'd noticed the skirt had been hemmed higher than its original length, now he saw there was a lot of thigh showing, another inch and he'd be able to see her panties. He'd have to mention it to her mother, at nineteen Britney was a younger version of her mother, and that alone would invite a lot of attention, she didn't need to encourage more.
She saw the plyers laying just to the left of his hip, "I don't see them, but if you just had them they have to be here somewhere, hang on a second and let me look, move your feet a little." He shifted, lifting his knees, Britney knelt down between his legs, and spreading his legs further apart she knelt between them, pressing her bare legs bare legs against his. The heat of skin against skin made his twisted jean shorts much tighter, He felt his body respond, and tried to ignore the growing heat, reminding himself that the girl was his stepdaughter.
She gathered the plyers from the floor, "Here they are." Brittney leaned forward, handing the Channel Locks to Dave, as she leaned up the length of his body she pressed against him.
He froze with the contact, the soft pressure against the tight fabric of his shorts made his already aroused cock instantly harder, settling back, she had shifted forward her legs slipping beneath his, her short skirt now draped over the lower front of his bunched shorts.
David was intensely aware of their physical contact, "I should be okay now, you don't need to stay and help really, and you must have things..."
"I think I should stay here in case you need anything else," She shifted a bit to get comfortable, under the draped skirt she was pressed softly against the crotch of his jeans. "Everything's done, tables cleaned and set for tomorrow, everything stocked, and all that's left is the kitchen work, and I can't do that with you stuck under the sink." She interrupted.
"Okay, it shouldn't be long, I just need to change this gasket, can find you see the pipe tape?"
"Blue or Yellow?" She asked, seeing both in the toolbox.
"Blue, yellow's for gas line."
"Okay, one second," She leaned across him twisting, she placed a hand on his right hip for balance, the lean pressed their loins together and tightened the already twisted shorts, he groaned involuntarily. "I'm sorry, did I lean too hard?"
"No, you're okay, my shorts are twisted is all," He explained as he took the pipe tape from her.
""My god you have to be uncomfortable," Britney shifted, the pressure between them gone as she moved away, then in a quick movement she unbuckled his belt to loosen his jeans.
"Britney, no really, it's okay!" David, under the sink had no control over the situation, hands full. He felt her fingers slide under the top of his jeans on either side of his zipper, the effect was to give him a full erection, he pulled away from her touch pinning his back against the floor, and the already tight jean shorts locked in place. Britney struggled for a second, and then unfastened the snap and slid the zipper down, twisting the jeans back and down in a single motion, David moaned, free of the pressure, he wasn't wearing underwear, finding it more comfortable in the summer heat, as a result, free of the twisted fabric his aroused penis jumped forward, fully erect and pointed straight up at Britney.
"Oh my," She whispered.
"Britney!" David embarrassed and surprised to find himself suddenly exposed to his stepdaughter.
