It's around 2 a.m. as the old sedan speeds along the rain covered highway, the drops slamming against the windshield and hammering against the roof in staccato rhythm. The sound, like gravel being shoveled into a steel drum, reverberates through car, eliminating any chance of normal conversation.
My brother Daniel is driving, hunched over the steering wheel, peering into the darkness though the waves of rain striking the windshield. His wife Janice is sound asleep on the passengers side of the front seat, her head against the window, and her legs pulled up beneath her.
I'm your widowed father Phillip and you're my pretty 19 year old daughter, Samantha. You're sitting on my lap, looking out the window into the stormy blackness. We're returning from a wedding that took place in a neighboring state, on the farm of grandfather Jackson, the family patriarch. You have to sit on my lap, because the car's trunk and most of the backseat, are packed with crates and boxes of fresh fruits and vegetables that Daniel and Janice were able to wrangle from grandfather Jackson, free of charge.
We have a long drive ahead of us, more than 220 miles, to get home. The wedding was a wonderful affair, and you had a fun time, looking particularly resplendent in your pretty yellow dress. You're in college, and over the past year, you've become much more confident than you were in high school. You have long black hair and flawless, radiant skin, with deep blue eyes, and a strikingly lovely figure.
You turn, and look into my face, in the dim light. "Did you have a good time at the wedding daddy?" you ask. "I noticed that Aunt Marion was holding your arm tenaciously most of the time, and wasn't about to let go without a fight. I'm surprised she's not coming home with us." you say, a slightly catty tone in your voice. You've never been very tolerant of another female giving me more than a cursory level of attention. You've always been somewhat possessive when it comes to me. My wife, your mother, passed away over ten years ago, and I've raised you on my own.
We're close, very close, and since you started college, we haven't been able to see each other every day, a feature of living at home, that you enjoyed very much whlist you were in elementary and high school. We both miss that close daily interaction when we're apart, so when we're together, we spend most of our time alone with each other, saving interaction with friends and relatives for those lonesome times when we're apart. You make the trip home from college every month, both of us invariably anxious to spend every minute we can alone with one another.
"I'm bored daddy." You say, turning and looking at me, as you sit perched on my knee like a small colorful bird.
"So am I honey." I reply, "but it's only another 2 1/2 hours or so until we arrive home, and Uncle Dan is hell bent on getting there before dawn. He hates staying in motels, and I'm not really big on it either."
You giggle. "Admit it daddy, you just don't want to wind up all alone in a hotel room with me. I'll bet if it were aunt Marion on your lap, instead of me, you'd be trying to talk Uncle Dan into stopping at a small, out of the way, motel, so the two of you could be, all cuddly and cozy together, in a quiet little room." you say teasingly, but with an underlying tone of jealousy creeping into your words.
"Sweetheart, you're the only girl in the world I'd want to be all cuddly and cozy with, in a quiet little motel room." I whisper, sliding my arms around your slender waist. I pull you closer, and slide your knee over my lap, so you're straddling me.
You smile, always loving it when I make such statements.
I kiss you softly, lovingly, my hands sliding down over your slender waist and softly curved hips. As my hands slide over your hips, I don't feel any pantie lines through the thin material of your yellow dress.
"Honey, did you wear that dress to the reunion with no panties on?" I ask in disbelief.
You slide your arms around my neck and lean closer, biting the lobe of my ear as you whisper, "I had my panties on all day long daddy. I took them off and put them in my purse in the washroom, just before we left. I didn't see any harm in going commando so late at night. Especially after wearing them for almost 18 hours straight. After all, there's not going to be any wind, to blow my dress up around my hips, in the back seat of Uncle Dan's car."
I smile as I feel you nibbling playfully on my ear lobe. "Well, I suppose not Samantha." I say forgivingly, loving the conversational freedom we have in the backseat, with the downpour creating such a racket, that my brother Dan, seated only a few feet ahead of us, can't hear a word.
You push against me as you release my ear lobe, and kiss my face repeatedly, your lips moving slowly from my ear, down over my cheek, to my lips. "Just imagine what we could do back here in the dark daddy, with all of this noise drowning out anything we say to each other. We don't see each other nearly as often as we did when I was at home every day. When we do see each other, we should make our time together a lot more memorable." you say softly, the tip of your tongue slipping between my lips, and touching the tip of my tongue.