Dads The Man Ch 05

Feb. 23/09

Well, guess who I visited today? I'll give you a hint: She only stood and stared with a dazed expression when she saw me. She was wearing light blue gym pants and a mauve sweater and it looked like she'd been working out, or something.

I was immediately hit by the guilty memories of how I was squatting nude in front of a total stranger a few nights ago, my feet on the arms of his chair, legs spread while I stroked miffy with my naughty, blonde schoolgirl smiles right in his face. I forced my mind from that and centered on the job at hand, that being the repair of Aunt Peggy's basement door, which reportedly wasn't closing properly.

I was wearing an older pair of snug fitting, black work jeans and a new, gray and blue, rawhide welding jacket that Daddy got me a little while back over a black sweater. I like it because it's short, warm and comfy and the gray is under the arms in wide panels and they make my boobies stand out, especially when it's unzipped. My hair, the sole and current focus of her attention, was tied back in a ponytail as I stood there in my paratroopers, a tool kit in my hand and scratching my nose, sniffing from the cold before politely breaking the ice.

"Quite a change, huh?"

" ... Yeah."

"Um, anyway, I came over to fix your basement door."

After another pause that was just long enough to become a bit uncomfortable, relative to the already present level of discomfort, she smiled suddenly, saying, "Sorry. It just,... Have you eaten?"

"Yes. How have you been?"

"Good, good. Yourself?"

"Great." I replied.

"Did you ever find a job?"

"No. I'm still looking, but I don't expect anything till spring."

"Well, come in and have a coffee."

"I should get to the door and have a look first, but later on would be great."

"Alright."

It didn't take long to find the problem and about twenty minutes later, what could be done for the short term was done.

"Is the offer of coffee still open?" I asked at the top of the stairs, taking my boots off and putting them beside my tool kit.

"Sure is," she called from the living room, the area she often refers to as her 'inner sanctum', and out of my immediate sight. "How's it coming?"

"All done for now," I reported, walking into the kitchen and going for the cupboard where she kept her mugs. She came in and sat at her kitchen table with her own coffee already in hand.

"For now?" she asked, unable to keep her eyes off my hair.

"It's not good," I said, moving to her percolator. "The door frame's rotten and so is the door sill. I gotta come back, probably next week when we can get some wood and stuff together and rebuild it. Door's fine, though."

"Oh. Did you get the door closed? I heard some banging."

"Yup, I shoved it into the frame, took some of the strapping down from the ceiling and boarded it up good so it's whether proof and safe until I can get it fixed."

"You're doing it?"

"Yeah, it's easy," I assured her, milking and sugaring my coffee.

"You're father's not coming out?"

"No, I'll be here in the daytime while he's working."

"Oh. So, how is he?"

"Good. Got hurt at work last week, though."

"What happened, is he alright?"

"A grinder wheel exploded near him. He's got a bunch of stitches and it's gonna scar, but there's no serious damage," I said, sitting across from her and taking a sip.

"Well, thank god. ... Oh, I just remembered,... I have to have my septic tank cover dug out in a few months so I can get a sucker-truck in here and get it emptied. Will he still be able to do that?"

I paused ever so briefly as my eyes leapt from my coffee to her face, then took my sip, swallowing and setting the cup down impassively before saying, "No, actually. I'll be doing that."

" ... His arm won't be healed by then?"

"Oh yes, I just don't want him doing that stuff anymore, if I can help it."

"Why?"

"He's not a young man and I don't like seeing him do that stuff anymore."

She laughingly replied, "Kat, your father's not that old, he's still in good shape. Very good shape."

"Yup, and he's gonna slow down a bit so he stays that way. Besides, there's no need for him to be doing that stuff, I'm perfectly capable."

" ... Hm. Well, maybe your friend will help you out. What was her name?"

"Gina." I answered, suddenly smiling at the thought and deciding right then and there to ask her, wondering if she'd ever even touched a dirt shovel before. "And yeah, she just might. I wouldn't doubt it."

"May I ask you something?" she inquired.

"Sure."

"How did you ever meet her?"

I picked up my coffee cup for a sip to buy time before I answered.

"Out job hunting one day," I said, putting the cup back down. "I had to take a side trip to get some shopping done, bras and panties, and I was too embarrassed to take them to the checkout, so I asked her."

"Just picked her out of the crowd?"

"Not exactly. I waited for a woman who seemed like a nice person. She was and we got talking when I paid her back and got my stuff."

"She seems like a lot of fun."

"She is," I replied.

"Call me crazy, but you don't seem so shy anymore."

"I don't?"

"No. Oh, it's a good thing, don't get me wrong, but tell me,... What would ever possess you to dye your hair blonde?"

"I never liked it the way it was. Mousy brown bleck. Do you like it, by the way?"

"Oh, it really does something for you, alright. What does your father think of it?"

"You know him. His biggest problem was how to tell me it looked good without making it sound like he didn't like my hair before," I said with a smile, rolling my eyes.

"I suppose it goes over big with all the guys when you and Gina go out, eh?" she asked me with an insider's knowing smile.

"Well, men look, yeah."

"Uh huh, first they look, then they're feeding you some line, then they're wanting to get into your panties. That's always the way with them, eh?"

"I don't know. I mean, I never really meet any, unless you count sales clerks, or whatever."

"I'd think she would have taken you to some pretty good parties," she said casually, taking a drink of her coffee afterwards while watching me over the rim of her mug.

"No. I don't like associating with people who party like that and neither does Gina. Big drinkers are big losers."

I took a drink of my own coffee then, savouring the taste as it mingled with the sudden silence from across the table. Hey, she deserved it. How can she snap at me for pumping information when she turns around and does the same thing to me?

"Your mother sure liked her alcohol," she finally offered in a slightly clipped tone.

"I'm not surprised. Did you ever drink with her?" I asked innocently.

Her friendly exterior slipped a little further at that, alright.

"Oh, Aunt Peggy, I,... didn't mean it to sound like that. I know you're not like that, I meant casually."

Her eyes glanced to my hair again, as they had been every once in a while, and back to my face as composure returned to hers.

"I associated with her, before I knew what all she'd

accomplish

, when I thought she was just a simple slut."

"Was she,... wild?"

"She liked to dance, liked the attention of every man in the room. She'd get a bit drunk and act all silly, falling into men's arms and making it look so innocent, a big sexy joke, or accident. Next thing you know, she's in a man's lap, laughing and asking how she got there."

"Peggy,..."

"Hmm?"

"Was there anything nice about her at all?"

She looked at me with a smile that showed all the bitterness Daddy had mentioned and said, "She didn't come back. Well,... not really."

Her eyes glanced up at my hair again as she said her last words. I took a drink of my coffee, wondering which way I should jump at this.

"I'm told we look a lot alike," I decided aloud.

"Oh, I never realized myself, until,..."

"Hm," I lightly commented.

Taking me in for a moment, she said, "You're like,... some eerie reminder from the past."

" ... Oh,... Okay. Um, I didn't know it would bother you, Aunt Peggy. I'm sorry. Look, I should probably go, anyway," I said, getting up and turning for the door. "Thanks for the coffee and I'll call to make sure you'll be home the night before I come over, okay?"

"Kat,..."

"Yes?" I asked, spinning in my socked feet on her bright linoleum floor.

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded."

" ... I know."

"Give my best to your father. I'll be by soon to check on his arm."

" ... Yeah."

She depressed me with that comment about me being an eerie reminder, somehow. I drove home feeling like I was Sheila's ghost and reconsidered my hair.

Daddy wanted to know how it went when I picked him up at work, but I just told him she was shocked and speechless for a second and kept looking at my hair. I don't want them fighting and I especially don't want him to have to deal with any flak from her on account of me.

Feb. 27/09

OH -- MY -- GOD! Wait till you hear what happened, I'm still freaked out about it, even after masturbating, and god knows

what

Daddy is thinking right now!

Okay, I'm trying to calm myself. It's not working.

Right, it's a little later and I've had time to masturbate again and come down a bit. Here's what happened:

First of all, Gina had a private gig tonight, so I stayed home with plans between us to hook up tomorrow. Me and Daddy settled in for a nice quiet evening of TV with the lights on low, each of us having a couple of beer and just taking it easy.

I wore a dress I'd purposefully bought for him, a nice dark blue one with white buttons, spaghetti straps, very short hemline and, best of all, it buttons up the back. I bought a white garter belt too, but the dress was too short and I didn't want to be obvious. Way too soon for that.

He was at his end of the couch as usual, me leaning against him while we watched a special about how the military tech of WW2 helped to develop today's world.

"Daddy?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I have a massage tonight? I promise I'll get you on Sunday, okay?"

" ... That's only fair. I've never given a massage before, though. It probably won't be as good as yours."

"It's not hard, it's only a back rub. Just work all the areas that get sore on you."

"Alright, but how are we going to do it?"

"How do you mean?"

"My room, or yours? And how do we work your,... well, your dress and bra."

"Just a minute," I said, getting up and hurrying to the kitchen where I had the bottle of massage oil heating in a pot of water.

I came back and directed him to the middle of the couch, trying to contain my excitement as he smiled tolerantly and slouched there like I told him so he'd be comfortable. I handed him the bottle and laid across him on my front so that my midsection was in his lap, my head resting on a cushion at the end of the couch with my arms drawn up under it.

Settling in, I said, "There. Now just unbutton my dress and you can do it."

" ... Okay."

I closed my eyes against the black and white footage on TV, feeling his big fingers starting at the top of my dress, undoing each button down my back till he got to the bottom. There was a slight hesitation before I felt my dress being pulled slowly open. A moment later, his big, oil warmed hand was between my shoulder blades and I let out a moan before I could stop myself.

"

You

must be sore."

"Mmmm. I work out a lot."

He applied more pressure and started rubbing up and down my back, not going too low, I noticed, his pace telling me of his uncertainty.

"Ohh, yeah. You're doing good, Daddy. Just like,... thaaaat."

"What about your bra strap?"

"Unclasp it, or leave it if you like."

"Won't the oil ruin it?

"It's a cheap one, I don't care if it does."

He left it, either because it turned him on, or he didn't feel right about unclasping it, I have no idea, but his hand was making me feel really good regardless, and I lay there with a gleeful smile.

"Mmm."

We watched as the TV explained how the British managed to bugger up Germany's air raids with radar, me making little mewling sounds of pleasure as he squeezed my shoulders deliciously, giving me goose bumps all the way down to the backs of my knees, one of which he rested his other hand on. Oh, god, it was so good. Just not quite good enough and, after about twenty minutes, I had another request.

"Daddy, rub my bum." I said quietly.

His hand froze on my back and after a pause, he asked, "What?"

"Rub my bum," I repeated as though there was nothing unusual about it.

"Uh, kitten,... I can't do that."

With a bit of my 'innocent little girl' thing, I asked, "Why?"

"Because I'm your father and it's not proper."

"But it's sore, I run up twelve stories, Daddy."

"Kitten-"

"Daddy, rub my bum," I whined, bouncing my pelvis in his lap impatiently. "Pleeeeease?"

I was getting pretty nervous, running out of tricks and things to tell him when his hand lifted from the back of my knee.

"Alright, just,... Okay," he said as his hand landed at the top of my cheeks.

"No,

under

my dress, so you can use the oil."

"Wh,...?"

"Yes, Daddy, you have to do it right." I petulantly ruled.

I thrilled as I felt the back of my dress being pulled up and I had to see it. Bending one knee and parting my thighs slightly, I pushed myself up and looked over my shoulder so I could see as he slowly uncovered my white, low cut, thin cotton panties with the pink edging that left the bottoms of my cheeks exposed. I felt a slight stir beneath my pelvis as his hand settled at the top of my bum again and slowly rubbed back and forth.

"Mmm. Use the oil."

"But, your panties,...

"Squirt some inside, it's alright," I said with a smile.

"Are you sure you want me to do this?" he asked, looking at me as the front of my dress slipped down, exposing one cup of my white demi bra.

"Yes, Daddy, squirt some oil down my panties. A lot, okay?"

He looked at me, undecided for an instant before his eyes found their way down to that bra cup and over my back, returning to my very well toned bum as he held the bottle and his erection grew, pushing at my abdomen.

Without a word, he slowly stuck the business end of the bottle down inside the waistband and squirted, watching the cotton soak and become translucent in an ever growing patch.

"Mmm, yeah. Like that. Squirt some more."

He did, soaking both sides and running his hand over the cotton.

"Oh, yes! I whispered, arching my back and raising my bum to his hand, lowering it again, allowing his cock a little repositioning room in the process. "Mmmm. More. Squirt it all over, Daddy."

Oh, god it was so good. He sprayed one, long, heavy shot after another down the back of my panties, right between my cheeks until it began to flow down between them, soaking the crotch and my already wet miffy. I parted my thighs a little more and moaned as he caressed my hips. When he was done there, he squirted more all over my lower cheeks as I watched, then shot a long stream down my crotch, another directly at miffy. The feel of the warm stream hitting my swollen lips through the cotton was out of this world and I gasped audibly.

"Like that?" he asked quietly, not looking at me, only my bum now.

"Yes, Daddy. Rub my bum now, okay?"

And he did. He started at the top while I turned back around, resuming my previous position and squirming against him a little, settling in and getting comfortable now that I knew he'd do what I wanted.

My slippery, oil soaked panties were dragged back and forth a little way under his big, work calloused hands and, before long, he applied a little more pressure, taking longer strokes and pulling the crotch of them almost out from between my cheeks on each pass. I won't even try to describe how it felt for miffy, especially knowing how well he could probably see her through the oil soaked, white cotton.

"Mmmmmmmmm." I moaned dreamily as he made me feel so good.

The wet sounds of the oil floated to my ears as I almost lost myself in this, only the small shocks of pleasure from between my legs keeping me from finding a whole other plane of existence.

"Ohhh, Daddy, that feels sooo good." I breathed. "Do you like my panties?"

"Yes." He responded with a thick voice.

"They're all wet and slippery."

"Oh,... kitten." He practically moaned as his hand travelled down one cheek, right to the bottom where he cupped it in his big hand, squeezing gently before returning to the top, crossing over and doing the other side in the same manner.

"Mmm, yeah. Squeeze my bum."

"Fuck." I barely heard him whisper.

"Mmmmmmmm."

I had to restrain myself from actively grinding against his hard cock, had to be happy with how it was jabbing into me just above my hood, where my pubic hair would be if I hadn't shaved it all off. When he began massaging up and down between my cheeks, restraint became harder, my breathing more labored as he pulled the slippery crotch of my panties against miffy, slowly dragging over my clitoris and tightening against my spread lips. The more I thought of the view he must have had, the hornier I got and I was shocked to realize that I was on my way to an orgasm if this kept up.

"You,... you shouldn't be teasing your old dad like this, you know." He said in that low, thick voice.

"No, Daddy, I want you to enjoy this, too. Don't you like rubbing my bum?"

"Too much. Way too much and in ways I shouldn't."

"It's alright. Do you like it? My bum?"

"Kitten, every part of you is just perfect."

"

Uh!

Well,

that's

a very nice compliment."

"You're a very horny little kitten, aren't you?"

"(giggle) I told you I was. I can't help it, but I'm no slut, Daddy. I'm a good girl, like you always taught me."

"(sigh) Yeah, well I gotta tell you,... Maybe it's time you found yourself a boyfriend."

"I don't like boys, I like men."

" ... Well,... You should probably find yourself a good one, then. One who knows how to treat a good girl."

"I have very high standards."

"Nobody's perfect," he said as I felt some more oil squirting on my back, between my shoulder blades.

His other hand began to rub that in and I gasped again as the fingers of his other hand, stroking slowly between my cheeks, stopped further and further in between my legs, pressing a little harder each time.

"I- I don't believe that," I managed with a ragged sigh under the onslaught of both his hands. "Oooh, Daddy, my bum."

Incredibly, I felt him get even harder beneath me and I wished there was nothing between us, so I could feel him up against me properly as I felt myself getting ever closer.

"At some point you're going to need more than just a bum rub, you know."

I had to hand it to him, trying to do the right thing for me even at a time like this. I mean, he had to know I could feel his erection against me.

"Pull my panties down," I replied just above a breathless whisper.

" ... Kitten, are you listening to me?"

"Pull my panties down, Daddy," I urged with a low, impatient whine.

"Kitten,..." he tremblingly sighed as his fingers began dipping below the waistband, his other hand squeezing my bare shoulder so lovingly. "This is,... We shouldn't be doing this."

But, his fingers took the waistband of the oiled garment and slowly pulled them down, just to the bottom of my bum and no further. He then began softly stroking it, up and down, across my cheeks and even to my hips and back without the impediment of my cotton undies. He rubbed my lower back with his other hand, slowly and from side to side, every once in a while rubbing up the middle of my back to massage a shoulder or the back of my neck. I realized my middle finger was in my mouth, just resting between my parted lips as my tongue danced around its tip and that my father was about to give me an orgasm.