My first story on Literotica, so please be kind with comments! I know there is a lot that I can definitely work on, so please help me out. I hope you enjoyed it!
Disclaimer: All characters engaging in sexual activity are over eighteen years old, and are completely fictional. Any resemblance to real-life people is purely a coincidence.
Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize. All rights reserved.
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I love gardening with my father.
My dad is a stay-at-home writer. He and my mother met at some kind of convention that I never asked what for as a child. My dad is smooth with his words, and he convinced my mother to go out on a date with him. One date turned into two, two turned into three, and six months later they were married and I was well on my way. My mother was eighteen, and my father was twenty.
My mom was an assistant in a lab, and when she had me, she feared she would lose her placement forever if she took leave. As a third-year political science student with no job or income, my father decided to take the year off to raise me instead of her. He's been a stay-at-home dad ever since, and took online courses to finish his degree. But he never really did anything with it, besides add in intense political plotlines to his stories.
As a child, I used to joke that his love for me overpowered his love of politics, and that I was the number one thing he loved the most in the world. He would claim that I was actually number two, and number one was a secret.
My brother, Adam, who was younger than me by two years, says that he's number one. But he's a brat, so we mostly ignore what he says.
Anyway, it is now the summer before I leave for college, and we've been in the garden every day since my graduation, to make up for future lost time. Adam didn't get the green thumb from dad, so he stays inside and plays video games, lost in mythical worlds and war zones.
Dad and I have worked out a system by now, ever since I first helped him in the garden. I weed, and he plows and hoes, and we plant seeds together. Then I'll water them as he cleans. We wear our bathing suits underneath our shorts and tank tops, so that it's easy to clean off the dirt when we're finished. We talk about random things, like my future or the news or the latest political strife in a third-world country, or sometimes we'll turn on the radio and sing our favourite tunes together.
You might think I'm a dork for enjoying hanging out with my father, but he's pretty relaxed for a parent and I prefer him over my absent, overbearing mother. Plus, I usually go out with my friends afterwards, and it's always easier to get permission if I've spent the entire day wasting away as his slave.
"Dad, can I go to the movies tonight?" I ask as I wipe my sweaty forehead with my arm. It comes away wet and sticky, but it's something that I'm used to. Today has been especially hot, and I'm dying even in my thin, neon pink tank top and gardening shorts. "I promise I won't be home later than two AM."
"What time does the movie start?" he wonders as he straightens up and stretches before taking a drink of water. I admire his muscular, tanned back. For an almost forty-year-old man, my father was still in his prime. My girlfriends often joked that if my mother wasn't so attractive herself, they would try to snatch him up. My best friend, Marcy, says that she doesn't even care that he's married; she'd swallow him up any day. I'd be grossed out if I wasn't used to it, but I've long since known that our family is an attractive one.
"Ten, but we might go get coffee after, or go bowling."
"Hmm... You can, but only if you bring Adam along." He goes back to hoeing, grunting as he lifted the hoe and slammed it back into the dirt.
"DAD!" I begin to protest, feeling frustrated. Usually I don't get annoyed so easily, but it's been a hot, long day. "You know Adam is a complete nerd! He never gets along with my friends, and he only ever wants to play video games! And he's only a sophomore! I can't bring him!"
Dad starts to laugh, turning to face me as he musses up my blonde hair, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling with amusement. "I'm only joking, although I do wish he'd get off the internet more. What's wrong with you kids these days? Don't you know the pleasures of cracking open a good book or going bike-riding under the summer sun?"
I can't help but start to laugh, because Adam and I actually do read a lot, since we both get our love of books from Dad. And as nerdy as Adam is, he's a competitive rider on weekend mornings when his gamer friends are still asleep.
I check my phone for the time. Almost eight. "Are we done here? I want to have time for a shower and to get ready."
"Is that boy Harry going to be there?" Dad asks, pretending to be casual as he begins collecting the tools and putting them in the shed.
"Henry," I correct, getting up and stretching. "And why do you ask?" I know where this is going. Henry and I have had a thing for the past year now. He was my date to homecoming and to my prom. Just thinking about him sent a rush through me, and heat between my thighs.
"Oh you know. As a curious friend."
I roll my eyes. "You can't be my friend, you're my dad."
Dad feigns a frown. "Don't call me a dad, that makes me sound old. Fine, how about someone who cares about you a lot?"
I shrug, looking away. "We're just friends right now. You know we're going to different colleges, so we just want to have fun before we go, you know?" I smile at him. "Don't worry, a bunch of us are going to be there. Marcy's the one whose coming to pick me up."
"Ah, Marcy. She's beautiful now, eh? I'm sure she was happy to come here to get you," Dad teases, knowing exactly how my friends see him.
I nod, laughing again. "She was ecstatic."
"Okay, if you want time for that shower, it's time to clean up. Take it off," dad says, grabbing the hose.
I oblige, shrugging off my damp tank top and shorts. I was wearing my new blue bikini, that covered just enough of my breasts to show off my curves but hide what needed to be covered.
Dad turns the hose to me, and a look enters his eyes as he stares at me. "You've gotten so big," he finally says, turning the cold water on me.
I squeal, jumping up and down as the cold hits me. "DAD! OKAY! ENOUGH!" I wrap my arms around myself, shivering.
Dad turns the hose off, and comes over to me, grabbing the towel we left on the deck railing, and wrapping it around my shoulders. I step closer to his body heat, reveling in the warmth of the towel and of him. "Thanks."
He's looking at me with that strange look in his eyes again. "You're, uh, welcome. Go on inside, princess." He turns me to the door and pats my bottom, and I giggle as I run inside.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I stand in front of the mirror, checking out my reflection. My blonde hair is now in loose waves down my back, and my light green eyes are lined in black eyeliner and mascara. I'm wearing a loose, spaghetti-strapped pink top over a blue bandeau, and white short-shorts, showing off my long and tan legs. I cup my B-cup breasts in my hands, and turn from side to side, and sigh. I was too slender for many curves, and sometimes the bandeaus helped, and other times they made me look completely flat. This shirt made my boobs look almost like C-cups though.
The doorbell rings, and I know it's Marcy, so I grab my purse and leave my room, closing my door behind me. I skip to the stairs, crashing into Adam whose up coming up them, holding a sandwich in his hands, his headset still on around his neck.
"ADAM, YOU DWEEB!" I scream as I jump away from the Nutella-oozing sandwich. "YOU ALMOST RUINED MY SHIRT!"
Adam scowled, glaring at me from behind his black-rimmed glasses. He would be kinda cute for a sixteen year old if he only wore his contacts all the time, but he said it 'bothered his eyes'. "Watch it, slut, you almost ruined my sandwich." He pushed past me and headed into his room, slamming the door behind him.
I frown, then head down the stairs, only to find Marcy flirting openly with my dad, her huge boobs practically pressing up against him. "Hi Marcy!" I say loudly.
She frowns at me as my dad steps away from her. "Hi Alana. Are you ready?"
"Yup! Bye, daddy!" I kiss my dad's cheek, more to get on Marcy's nerve than because of him, but he blushes away.
"Why would you do that?!" Marcy complains as we pile into her car. "I was this close to getting him to ask me out!"
"Oh, please, my father would never cheat on my mother. And if he was going to, he wouldn't do it with you," I tease as she pulls out of my driveway.
Marcy laughs, shaking her head of brown curls. "You're so clueless, Lan. Every forty-year-old man wants an eighteen year old slut. Even your old man." She smiles wickedly at me. "I bet he has wet dreams about you all the time. You are hot, after all."
"Ew, Marcy, stop! Just drive, okay?" I tell her, crossing my arms over my chest.
But as she shrugs and begins to sing along to the radio, I can't help but think about it. My dad, having fantasies about me? But I'm his daughter! Wouldn't that take precedent over his desires?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was just past two AM when I stumbled home. I walk unsteadily to my front door, and struggle with my keys, taking a few minutes before finding the right one. I push the door open, and barely remember to lock it behind me.
I drop my purse where I kick off my sandals, and begin to find my way upstairs in the dark, my hand on the wall. After the movie, we had ditched coffee or bowling and had gone back to our friend Laura's house for a few drinks.
Tears wells in my eyes as the memory of finding Henry in a room with Laura fills my mind again. I can't make those images go away, no matter what I tried. How could he betray me like this? Okay, so we weren't dating, but we were clearly together. How could he go behind my back, and with my friend too, of all people?
I take the stairs slowly, practically crawling. When I finally reach the landing, I see a light coming from my dad's office. So he's still up. I think about his warm hugs and feel such a need to feel them that I decide to go to him, knowing that he'll be able to make me feel better.
