College Road Trip With Dad Pt 01

My name is Bethany. I'm almost 19 and I've been looking forward to starting college all year. I graduated high school last May and have been working on finding scholarships ever since, while also working two part-time jobs to save up money. You see, my parents don't have a lot of money. My going to college has always been a dream for both of them and I remember them preparing me for this as far back as I can remember. But the closer it got to the actual day, the more realistic we all had to get.

I knew I wasn't going to be able to go to a big expensive university if my family had to pay for it. I'm an only child, which makes things a little easier, but still. My dad is a carpenter. He sometimes works sixty-plus hours when the projects are available, but other times the work dries up. It's not his fault. He is a good provider, it's just this economy doesn't make things easy for anyone.

The worst part is that I know he is embarrassed to not have the money to send me to school in style. I don't care. I'm happy to work and save and help contribute as much as I can, but I think it makes him feel like less of a man somehow. I know that is why he has been taking on all these extra jobs. I wish he just knew how much I loved him and that he didn't have to work himself to the bone.

Mom has been a big help too. She has actually worked two part time jobs for the last couple years, helping out with groceries and to give us enough for an occasional vacation. Nothing crazy, just camping or maybe driving across state lines and chilling on the river for the day.

But here we are, in the final stretch. I have two solid options for schools. One is the local community college and where I will probably end up. The other is more of a long shot. Its a college out on the southern east coast. It is the nicest school that has accepted me and the also offered some substantial scholarships. At first, I thought it was a homerun. Then I thought about the move. That was the other issue. This school just happened to be 14 hours away. I had my grandpa's old used Toyota Corolla that was on it's last days on earth. It was fine for puttering around town, but Dad wasn't sure if it would make it for multiple trips half way across the country.

In the end, we decided to test out the waters. The school had a weekend long College recruitment day mid-summer. So I signed up. There was a campus tour and you got to meet with professors and academic advisors and really just get a taste for what the college life was like. Originally, my parents were both going to go with me. All three of us. I was, after all, their only child and I was thinking about leaving the nest. It was a momentous occasion. But then, the week before we were scheduled to leave, my mom came down with the flu. It was bad. We all had our fingers crossed, but she knew she wasn't going to be up for the trip across the country in the car and then all the walking at the school.

As disappointed as she was to miss it, she recognized that it was a good opportunity to me to see the school and at least Dad would be there to get more information and help make some decisions. We were both bummed that she wouldn't be joining us, but I was also excited to have a long weekend alone with my Dad. He had been working so hard, such long hours, for so long. I felt like we hardly had any time to talk or hang out anymore. And if I was going to be leaving for school soon, I didn't know how much we would get to see each other over the next four years.

The day of the road trip finally came. We were leaving on a Thursday morning. Our plan was to drive most of way, which was something like 8 hours. Then on Friday we would wake up, have a nice breakfast and drive the last few hours to the college. We loaded up the van. Dad would do the driving and I would be in charge of the music and snacks. Mom was feeling a bit better and hugged us goodbye. We pulled out of the driveway, waving goodbye and then hit the open road.

The first couple hours flew by. It was early, we had fresh coffee and I kept up a steady mix of music that I liked and music from Dad's generation. But after a couple hours, we were tired of music and things slowed down a bit.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" Dad asked, "do you need a stop?"

"No, I'm good." I responded, "We have keep going for a while."

We drove in silence for a while, then Dad spoke up again. His voice was hesitant and I could tell he was trying hard to sound casual, but that his words were very carefully rehearsed.

"So, your mother tells me that you and Joe broke up." He said, in his fake "Happy Dad" voice.

"Did she?" I said and I glanced sideways at him.

"Yeah, no big deal." He said, "just thought I would ask. You know I care about you."

He was quiet for a long moment.

"And I never liked him anyway." he added under his breath.

As frustrated as I was with my mother for telling him something I had told her in confidence, that made me laugh. The fact was, I was a little afraid to talk to him about what had happened with Joe. We had been going out for about six months. Even though I was 18 years old, actually I was almost 19. Next month was my birthday. And even though most of my friends had been sexually active for a while, I was embarrassed to admit that I was still a virgin. I was even more embarrassed by the fact the Joe had tried to pressure me into bed. I told mom all about it, but I wasn't sure I was ready to deal with Dad. I continued to sit there in silence for a few minutes, working up the courage. Finally, I spoke again.

"What did Mom tell you about it?" I asked in a quiet voice. I stared hard at the road ahead and held my breath.

"I don't know any of the details about why you two broke up." He continued, "So, don't be too upset with your mother. All she told me was that he treated you poorly and wasn't worthy of you."

I felt tears begin to form in my eyes.

"And you don't have to tell me anything either," he continued, "that's not why I'm bringing it up. But I also want you to know that I am always here for you if you do want to talk.

The silence stretched on for another couple miles. Part of me just wanted to turn on some music and let the moment pass, but I also felt like if I didn't open up to him now, I didn't know if I ever would. Finally, I martialed my nerves and spoke.

"It was just moving too fast." I said.

He just nodded slowly.

"You see, I" I started, "I- I'm a virgin and he just kept pressuring me to have sex."

There. It was out. I had told him. I waited to see how he would respond.

"Well," he began, "I'm proud of you for ending things with him...Not because I don't want you do have sex, but because I want you to take those steps when you are comfortable. In your time. No one should push you or pressure you."

The tears started to come back. I felt a rush of gratitude and affection for my Dad. I didn't care if I didn't have a boyfriend. I knew what real love and acceptance was. I could wait until I found someone who was willing to treat me the way my dad did.

"And there's nothing wrong with waiting." He continued. "Nothing wrong with being a virgin."

"Thanks Dad!" I said, "That means a lot to me."

"Of course honey!" He said.

That's where the conversation ended. We listened to more music and played some car games. We stopped for lunch. I took a short turn driving while Dad took a nap, but that ended when he woke himself snoring. The road continued to pass under our wheels mile after mile and before we knew it the sun had gone down and we were pulling into the parking lot of the Motel on the side of the highway. I knew that money was tight and that even just the gas and time off work was going to be a financial sacrifice for my Dad, so I wasn't expecting anything too extravagant.

The Motel was a long, low single building with about 10 rooms side by side with doors facing the highway and an office at the far end. I got out of the van and started to stretch, while Dad made his way inside to pay for the room and get our keys. My back and legs were tight from sitting in the cramped seats all day. As I stood there beside the van I noticed one of the widows in one of the rooms. There was a man staring out directly at me. He might have been in his late 30s or early 40s. He was shirtless and staring at me with an expression that made my skin crawl. I quickly grabbed my backpack from my seat and hurried inside with my dad. As I walked in the door, I saw that he was signing some papers, but he also looked pretty upset. I wondered what had happened in the five minutes he was in here to change his mood.

He turned, saw me and forced a smile.

"Come on, sweetie." He said and then stalked out of the door.

I followed closely behind him as we got back into the van and drove the final 15 feet to park in front of one of the rooms. I shuddered a bit when I realized that it was right next to the room where the man had been staring at me. As we grabbed our bags and walked up to the door, I risked another glance at through that room's window. The man was gone, but I had the feeling that he was still around. Lurking. It made me uneasy.

Dad unlocked the door and pushed it open. The room was dark and smelled slightly dusty, but other than that it looked clean. He reached out an flipped on the light.

"I'm sorry honey." He said with an exasperated tone.

I wasn't sure what he was talking about.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He just gestured at the room.

We were originally supposed to have two rooms. That fell through, but they said they would reserve us a room with two queen size beds, but now this is all they have. Right then it clicked. I noticed that the room had only one bed. It was a queen size, so more than enough room for two people. Maybe a tad awkward for a father and daughter, but it wasn't the end of the world. I just laughed. I didn't want him to feel bad. I knew that his mind would immediately go to money. He would start to tear himself down for not being able to provide something better.

"It's fine, Daddy!" I said, "there's more than enough room." Then I hopped into the bed and patted the space next to me. He just stood there for a long moment and then I saw him accept the situation. He strode over to the bed and lowered himself down with a sigh.

"Ahh," he said, "Good to lay down. My back is so tight from that drive. I'm just going to lay here for a few minutes, then we'll go grab some dinner."

Within a minute he was out. Snoring lightly on the bed next to me. I just laughed to myself and grabbed the TV remote. I watched TV for maybe an hour. By the time he woke up it was pretty late. We decided to skip dinner and call it a night. We had a big day of driving and then seeing the college tomorrow. I grabbed my bag and stepped into the bathroom to get ready for bed. It was just then that I realized that all I brought to sleep in was an oversized t-shirt and panties. That's how I always slept at home. I guess it would be fine. I mean, I sometimes walk around the house like that. What else could I do. I took off my shirt and jeans. Then unhooked my bra. It felt good to let my boobs be free. I stood in front of the mirror topless while I brushed my teeth and washed my face. I pulled my shoulder length blond hair back into a loose pony tail and finally slipped into my comfy sleeping t-shirt.

When I came out of the bath room, Dad was sitting on the edge of the bed with his bag. We passed each other. He went into the bathroom as I started pulling down the covers and the sheet and climbed into bed. The sheets were cool, but the room was still too hot. I climbed back out of bed and fiddled with the AC unit for a minute. It was set on the coldest setting, but it was barely blowing out any air. Reluctantly I walked back over to the bed and climbed in. I braced myself for a warm night.

Just then Dad came out of the bathroom and climbed into bed. I noticed that he was still wearing his button up shirt and jeans. I couldn't help laughing again.

"What are you wearing, Daddy?" I said, "You're sleeping in your jeans?"

"Well, I thought I would have a room to myself." He said.

"So?" I asked, still laughing.

"So, I didn't bring anything to sleep in." He answered. "I usually sleep in just my boxer shorts at home. You know that."

"Oh my gosh!" I said, "Its fine, it's totally fine. Sleep in your boxers."

He didn't look convinced.

"It's too hot." I said, "You'll never get to sleep wearing that."

He still didn't move.

"Seriously, it's fine." I said.

Finally, he seemed to accept the situation. I turned away on my side and he stood up and removed his shirt and pants. I felt the weight of his body as he sat back down on the bed. He slipped under the cover and we lay then, back to back now, laying on our sides, facing away from each other.

"Good night, Sweetheart!" He said.

"Good night, Daddy!" I said.

I lay there for a long time trying to get to sleep. Before I knew it, my dad was out again, snoring away, but for some reason I just couldn't fall asleep. The noise of the road. The muffled music and TV that I could hear from both adjoining rooms. The semi-loud bickering of someone in the parking lot. Then something else started. It was faint at first and I didn't really know what it was. There was a light tapping at the wall by my head. It sounded like someone was knocking on the other side of the wall. I waited, but it didn't stop. It was a rhythmic tap-tap-tap-taping. Then it got louder, now a steady banging, and I realized all at once that it was the headboard of the room next door banging against the wall.

Someone was having sex in the next room. I felt my face flush as I realized it. I was laying mere feet away from a couple of stranger who were having sex. It was exciting, but it also made me feel a bit dirty. I tried to tune them out, but the banging was getting louder, more insistent. Then I realized with a start that the room was the one that had that creepy older guy, who had been leering at me. He was having sex with someone. That man, I realized that I was picturing him just then. His eyes, his face, his ragged hair and shirtless body, smoking and thrusting into some woman on the other side of the wall.

With a shock, I realized that I was beginning to get wet. I held my breath and gingerly slipped one hand under the elastic of my panties. I pressed just the tip of my finger inside and as I did, I let out a little involuntary shiver. I could hear both the man and the woman distinctly now, moaning, panting, groaning. And that's just when things took a turn for the worse. Just when I thought I couldn't be in a more sensual and explicitly wrong situation, the couple on the other side of the room began speaking. The words that I heard were like an electric shock hitting my spine.

"Oh Daddy!" the woman was saying.

"Oh Daddy, Daddy! Yes, Daddy!"

The man just moaned and continued thrusting hard enough that I swear I could feel it through the wall.

"Daddy! Daddy! Fuck me Daddy!"

My pussy was now noticeably wetter and I realized with a small jolt of panic that I could actually smell my juices as I lay there on my side under the thin cotton sheet.

"Daddy, Daddy, Fuck me!!" the woman was saying in the breathy voice.

It was too much. I began massaging my tender clit with the tip of my finger, trying my hardest not to move and shake the bed. The wrongness of the situation was making the sensations all the more pleasurable. I was laying, half naked in a bed with my own father. I was silently masturbating while eaves dropping on a couple who were, I assumed, role playing some father/daughter scenario. Meanwhile, my own father was lying next to me, asleep in his underwear. Mind mind involuntarily flashed to an image of my dad's penis. I was painfully aware that if I moved my arm backwards a mere few inches I could probably touch it. I wondered how big it was. I don't know what had come over me. I had never ever had sexual thoughts about my dad before. But this situation. The couple. The banging. My pussy!

"Fuck me Daddy! Fuck me Daddy!" the woman kept saying.

"Harder Daddy! Give it to me harder!" she said.

Then I heard his voice. More than the guttural moans and grunts.

"Oh yeah! You like Daddy's big cock?" he asked.

"Yes! Yes! Fuck me Daddy!" she relied.

There was a crescendo of moans and squeals. She was begging her Daddy to fuck her harder, to fill her up with his cum. He was calling her a little slut, a little whore, a little bitch. Even that name calling was doing something to me. I felt dirty, but I liked it. I was living vicariously through this dirty motel couple. They were both moaning now. And the wall was practically vibrating. I was caught up in the fever pitch and began rubbing my pussy harder. I slipped two fingers in and began pushing them in deep and then pulling them out, rubbing along my clit with each penetration. My pussy was noticeably dripping now. I could feel the liquid running down my leg and soaking into the sheet.

"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!"

I began rubbing harder. It sounded like they were about to cum and I realized with satisfaction that I was probably going to cum at the same time.

"Daddy! Yes, Yes, Daddy! Fuck me Daddy!"

I started to cum. Waves of pleasure were radiating through me. My eyes rolled back in my head as it hit me and I came. Then something occurred to me that I hadn't counted on. I realized with horror that since I usually masturbated in the shower, I didn't realize how wet my orgasms were. I was squirting out streams of cum in rhythm with the hurricane of contracting spasms of pleasure.

"Yes! Yes! Yes! Daddy YES!" It sounded like I barely beat them. The knocking at the wall gradually stopped and sounds slowly subsided.

My legs were wet. I knew I would need to get up and go clean myself off, before...Then something else hit me. It was like a physical blow that took my breath away when I realized it...I realized that I didn't hear my dad snoring. In fact, I couldn't remember how long it had been since I had last heard him.

My mind raced to put together the implications. Was he awake? How long had he been awake? Did he hear the obscene, dirty whore begging for her "Daddy" to fuck her? Did he feel our bed moving? Could he smell my pussy? Oh my god! I started to panic. My mind racing, even as I continued to squirt into the sheets. Just then, as if in answer to the questions running through my head, I felt the bed shift as my dad climbed out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

I risked a quick glance. The room was almost totally pitch dark, but when he opened the bathroom door, I saw it. Even though it was just a momentary sight, backlit by the low light from the bathroom, even so it was unmistakable. My dad was holding his massive cock in his hand. He closed the door quickly and my view was cut off. Instantly, I jumped out of bed, knowing I didn't have long to try to clean myself off. Without access to the bathroom, I made do with what was at hand. I grabbed my dirty t-shirt I had worn on the car drive and used it has a towel, wiping down my legs and my soaking wet pussy. Then I stepped over to the bed, to wipe down the sheets as best I could. I didn't want to risk turning on a light, so I grabbed my phone and used the screen brightness to see.

Just like I thought, there was a wet spot right where I was laying, although, to my great relief, it wasn't quite as big as I imagined it. I quickly padded the spot with my shirt, hoping to soak up what I could. And that's when I saw it. On the other side of the bed at about the same position. There was another unmistakable wet spot, but this one hadn't soaked into the sheets. In fact this liquid looked much thicker. I realized that I was staring at a small dollop of my dad's sperm. White and shiny in the light of my phone. Just then the toilet flushed and scared me so badly that I jumped. Without thinking, I reached out and used my shirt to wipe up my dad's cum. Then, throwing the shirt in a heap on the floor, I quickly climbed back into bed and tried to be still.