The following was inspired by a real tweet, though I can't vouch for the truth of what was posted. Although the hashtags are imaginary, they cause server problems, so I've replaced them with
bold capital H's
.
***
I managed to get the best of all worlds. I'm an only child, sort of. (More on that later.) I didn't get into college, but I got a job at a milling shop within a week after I graduated high school. Two other things started happening around then. My mom started going out a couple nights a week and giving us stories that sometimes didn't add up. Half the time it turned out she was at one of the local bars. We weren't exactly happy about it, but she didn't really need to cover it up either. The other thing that happened is that my dad started wearing tighter pants. I'd always admired his chest. It's muscular and hairy, and I like the same shade of brown skin, slightly darker than "chocolate", that attracted my mom. (She and I are only a couple shades lighter than the racist pictures they used to sell at gift shops in the South.) Some of those pants were tight enough that I could imagine comparisons between his dick and my past boyfriends', and he usually came out ahead.
After a year of this, Mom had started going out so often and staying out so late that Daddy and I got used to fending for ourselves. It turns out Daddy's a pretty good cook, and we can both do laundry without ruining each other's clothes. One afternoon we realized how comfortable we'd gotten. I had just taken my jeans off and put them in the washing machine. Daddy walked in at that moment to see me in my halter top and a thong. He didn't try to look away, and I didn't try to cover up. "I've barely got half a load. Anything you want done right away?" I asked.
"Sure, Monique." He added a few pairs of tight shorts and impossibly tight-looking underwear. Then he handed me the detergent. He knew he'd have to wait to do the rest of his laundry, so he put his basket on top of the dryer, which was on the other side from me. On his way back out, his hand grazed my ass. He barely noticed.
Okay, maybe I wasn't as comfortable as I said. I would have been at that moment, if my dad had looked like most of my friends' dads. He's in his forties like they are. He's not a young-looking 40; he's just a good-looking 40. The guys I see at work and at the clubs
wish
they looked as good as my dad. Having a guy that fine brush his hand against my ass took me by surprise. It actually made me tingle. I felt so dirty, thinking about him that way.
I managed to keep my thoughts to myself, but one night was kind of challenging. My shift ended in the early evening, so I got home just after dark. Daddy had made shrimp scampi because Mom was already out. He asked how my day was, and I told him we'd started training on some new milling equipment. "Same old grind, then?" he joked. (He's hot, but he has a dad's sense of humor.)
I leaned against the kitchen counter and said, "Yeah, your daughter's really good at grinding," and I moved my hips around. I probably should have exaggerated the movement for comic effect, but with a man that fine watching me, I felt like I was in the club, and I ground it the way I would for a guy I was really attracted to. Who am I kidding, I thought. I
am
attracted to him. I felt the same shame I'd felt before, but it didn't stop me from grinding one more time.
Daddy seemed to think it was still a joke. He put his hand on my butt and said, "Yeah, grind that wheel!"
That felt too good and too sickening at the same time. I told him, "I gotta go to the bathroom," and ran off. I pulled my pants down as fast as I could and sat down. I imagined him behind me at a club, rubbing his crotch into my ass. I didn't imagine him actually doing anything with his dick, but in my mind, I could feel it how hard it was. I played with my pussy until my fingers were drenched and washed my hands.
They split up not long after that. Mom was having an affair. I'm sure Daddy suspected a long time before that. In fact, my hunch is that he was wearing tighter clothes just because he was insecure and hoping to make her notice him. He just hit the wrong target. I'd like to say I was unhappy that she left. What happened was, I was only unhappy that she barely said goodbye to me. With her out of the picture, I felt a little less disgusted with myself for how I was feeling.
The day after she finally moved out, I came home from work just as Daddy was coming in from the back yard. We'd had strong winds the night before, and there were tree limbs all over people's yards. I could see through the kitchen window that the back yard was cleared. "I could use some help in the back, Monique," he said.
"What do you need?"
"I picked up all the limbs, but I think I should cut the one tree down that's right outside. I'm afraid one of these days it'll crash through the roof, and where it's located, it'd probably be your room. I just need you to keep the ladder steady."
"Sure, Daddy. Lemme change my clothes first." Forget the house, I just wanted to see those muscles in use.
"No rush, Baby," he said.
I went to my room and quickly took off the T-shirt and pants I'd worn to work. I laid out some low-cut jeans that show off my round ass. I took off my bra. I imagined that he walked in at that moment, told me what great tits I had and started motorboating me. Then I realized that's how the boys at the club act. My daddy's a real man. I found another bra and shirt. I'd put the bra on and had just put my arms through the sleeves of the T-shirt when he walked in. "Almost ready, Daddy," I told him. As I said, we'd gotten so comfortable that neither of us reacted to him seeing me with a bare midriff and no pants.
"Nice shorts," he added.
"Thank you, Daddy!" I said. "I-"
"What?"
"Nothing." I had stopped myself from saying, "I bought them for you." I'd bought them in the hopes that he'd notice my ass, but I didn't realize what I was doing at the time. "Meet you outside."
I met him at the shed. He'd already opened it. We carried the ladder to where he'd left his saw. After we set the ladder up, he climbed it and asked me for the rope. He moved from the ladder to the tree, wrapped the rope around it and had me tie it to the fence and a stake. He came back down and started sawing the tree. Before he even started, he'd pulled his sleeves up to his shoulders, and I could watch those muscles as he sawed back and forth. After a half-hour, he was sweating, so he took his shirt off. I had to catch my breath, watching that marvelous chest glimmer. After an hour, the tree came down, and because of the ropes, it could only fall away from the house. When it landed, I put my hands around his chest and hugged him. I got a warm feeling when I felt his back against my chest, and I kissed his shoulder. "Yay, Daddy's protecting me!" I said.
Daddy turned around and returned the kiss. "I love you, Monique," he said.
I hugged him again. I lowered my voice half an octave and said, "I love you too, Daddy." I realized I was trying not to sound like a little girl. I held him close, hoping he'd like the way my tits felt. If so, he didn't let on.
"Let's get dinner," he said, and he walked toward the house. That's when I noticed that he had an ass almost as nice as mine.