Maggie's Road Trip

This story is for entertainment purposes only. All characters are fictional and 18 years or older. The road trip is five days long, so the story will be told in chapters.

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My father and uncle owned a classic car repair shop. Sometimes, they would travel to other states for car auctions. They would buy old beat-up cars and bring them back to be fixed up and sold. I went with them once, and they bought a car for four hundred dollars. They spent a week and a half fixing it and sold it for six thousand dollars. The car didn't resemble the car they bought. By doing that, along with fixing cars that people brought in, they were able to make a good living.

So, a few months after turned eighteen, my father told me that he and Uncle Frank were going to an auction they heard about six states away. He told me they were bringing their regular tow truck and the flatbed. When I asked him why they were both going and needed both trucks, he told me there was a specific car they wanted and that they were going to get me a car. I was so excited that they were doing this for me. The car I currently have is a shitbox and is not dependable. I gave my father a big hug and thanked him profusely. I don't typically like going with them, but I asked if I could go with them this time. My father explained that they would be gone for five or six days, staying in cheap motels and sharing a room. But if I wanted to go, it was up to me and Mom.

To be honest, I didn't care about the cheap motels. I wanted to help pick out the car. I worked at the shop they owned as a receptionist, so I wasn't worried about getting fired for missing work. I graduated high school seven months ago and didn't have a boyfriend. The boyfriend I did have joined the military right after high school, so my mother was my only obstacle. She always makes a big deal about nothing.

After dinner, I asked my mom if she had a minute to talk. She immediately said, "Whatever it is, Maggie, the answer is no." This is how she's always been with me. I don't know why. I would say I am a good person. I did well in school; I didn't get into much trouble growing up. I didn't ask for a lot, and unlike some girls I grew up with, I didn't end up as a teenage mother. Don't get me wrong, I was no angel, but I wasn't in constant trouble, either. I did everyday teenage things. I would drink at parties, break curfew, and tell an occasional fib to get things. I wasn't a virgin, but I didn't sleep with every hot guy in town either.

"Seriously, Mom. I wanted to ask you if I could go with Dad and Uncle Frank to the auction and help pick out the car we are going to get for me. Please!"

My mother laughed at me. "You do realize that you are eighteen. Right? I thought you were going to ask for money. If your father and Frank can tolerate you on the road, I don't care if you go. Make sure those two idiots don't drink and drive, please. Plus, I could use a break from you and your father."

I told my father that Mom said I was an adult now, so I didn't need her permission to go with them. I asked when we were leaving. My father asked me, "Are you sure you want to go? You'll be in cheap, cramped motel rooms with two old drunks every night. We can get really grumpy on these trips, and we try to keep the spending down to a minimum. I just want you to think it through, that's all."

I understood what he was trying to tell me. I thought it was funny that he said they could get grumpy. I think he meant drunks, not grumpy. I had already made my mind up. I was going with them. I didn't want them to pick my next car. "Dad, I'm 100% sure I want to go. If I can survive being around you and Uncle Frank every day, I can survive six nights in cramped, shitty motels with the both of you. Plus, this is the first decision I didn't need Mom's permission for. I'm an adult now, and I'm going to pick out the car you are going to fix up for me."

My father laughed and told me, "Be ready to go when we leave work on Wednesday. We won't be waiting around for you."

I went to my room and packed my small suitcase. I made sure I had enough clothes for the trip and filled a cosmetic pouch with my toiletries.

On Wednesday morning, I put my travel bags in the truck, so I didn't forget them. At five, we were on the road. I asked, "How long are we going to drive before we stop at a motel?"

My father said, "We'll probably drive until ten, then look for a motel. Get comfortable; it's going to be a while. And no complaining. OK?"

"Yup, understood, Dad. Get comfy, and no complaining." We got off the highway at nine o'clock and looked for food and a motel. Fortunately, we didn't have to look for long. There was a diner and motel on the strip we were driving on. After eating dinner, my Dad rented a room, and the three of us went in. As soon as we got in, there was a problem. There were two full size beds and a small table with two chairs right outside the bathroom. I asked, "What are the sleeping arrangements?"

My father and uncle started laughing. Then my uncle told me, "We each get a bed. You either share a bed with one of us, or you get the floor. You get to decide. Welcome to adulthood."

I wasn't offended by my uncle's comment. He and my father were always sarcastic. They were fun to be around. They weren't grumpy or mean. They have always been super close, and I have never seen them argue with each other. They would have disagreements but never raised their voices to each other. I told my father, "Well, Uncle Frank drew the short straw. Please don't be snoring in my face all night, Dad, or I'll have to jump into Uncle Frank's bed."

They laughed at me while Uncle Frank asked, "And how did I draw the short straw on this one?"

"Well, when are either of you going to get to share a bed with a sexy eighteen year old again," I said as I burst out laughing. "HA! Got you on that one. That was payback for your comment about the floor. Smartass." In my family, we all talk trash to each other. Even I have to admit that my comment might have been a bit much. Sometimes, when we joke, it would be borderline inappropriate. I figured I'd do it first because I'm sure they wouldn't hold back on their trash talking.

In my defense, I am good looking. Calling myself hot may have been a stretch. I am five foot one with brown hair, green eyes, and a pretty face that made me look younger than I was. Another attribute that I inherited from my mom. Mom looked much younger than she was. People who didn't know us thought we were sisters. Like my mother, I have nice, shapely hips, thick thighs, a firm ass, and c-cup breasts that looked bigger because of my height and petite build. Now that I described myself, maybe I am hot, I thought. They were both laughing at my comment when I asked, "Am I going to have time to shower in am? Or should I shower tonight? By the way, what time are we leaving in the morning?"

My father told me, "We are not sure when we are leaving in the morning yet. Frank and I haven't started drinking yet. That's usually when we decide what time we should leave. You should probably shower tonight. That way, if we leave early, we can just go."

I knew they liked to drink when they were on the road. I would hear them talk about how nice it was not to have nagging wives with them so they could drink the way they wanted. I grabbed my toiletry bag and headed into the bathroom to shower. The water pressure sucked, but at least the hot water didn't run out, I thought. I got out of the shower and brushed my teeth before turning around to get my clothes. Then it dawned on me. I forgot to bring clothes into the bathroom with me. Embarrassingly, I wrapped a towel around me. I slowly opened the bathroom door. They were sitting at the table right outside the door, sharing a bottle of Jack and playing cards. I peeked my head out the door and told them, "Hey, I forgot to grab my clothes from my bag. I need to come out in a towel. Don't look. OK?" I know it comes across as weird that I would walk by in a towel. At the time, I thought about how I walked around my house in a towel after showering. My father never said anything, but my mother would yell at me to get dressed. But my mother would yell about everything. My father never said anything, even when I would give him a reason to be upset. That's probably why I forgot to bring my clothes into the bathroom; I wasn't used to bringing them in with me. Who gets dressed in a steamy bathroom anyway?

Unlike the towels at home, the motel towels were smaller. I barely had enough room to fold it closed over my breasts, and I needed to be careful my ass wasn't visible. Once I felt the towel was secure, I opened the door and entered the room. When I squeezed by them, I saw them checking me out. I decided to make a joke, "Pervs," I said as I walked to the side of the room where my suitcase was located. I placed it on the bed, and as I was going through it, their eyes were still glued to me. Their looks didn't make me uncomfortable. It didn't even gross me out. I was flattered whenever guys stared at me, even when they did it. I've never been uptight like that. I asked them, "Enjoying the view, pervs," and laughed at my own joke.

My Uncle was the first to respond, "Well, I do. That towel looks like it's holding on for dear life. Personally, I hope it falls." Then, he started guzzling from the whiskey bottle.

I wondered what my father was going to say when he started speaking. "Yeah, normally I wouldn't agree with you, but on this one, I fully agree with you."

Like I said earlier, I am not known as a free and easy girl. But I am in no way a prude. In fact, I am known to be flirty and have a trashy mouth when challenged. My father and uncle were used to me flirting and my gutter mouth. "Well, you can both dream, right? See what you could've slept next to if you weren't being so selfish earlier, Uncle Frank. That's what you get."

"Son of a bitch," my uncle said as him and my father laughed.

I grabbed a T-shirt and a pair of gym shorts as I headed back to the bathroom. When I squeezed by them, I stuck my tongue out to antagonize them. My uncle gripped my calve, causing me to yelp loudly. We all laughed at my reaction, and my towel slipped because of my reaction. I dropped my clothes and quickly grabbed the towel to keep it from hitting the floor, too. I tried to wrap it back around my body as quickly as possible, but I knew they at least saw my breasts. Once I had the towel tightened, I bent down to pick my clothes up. I knew that at the very least, my father could see my ass while I picked up my clothes. I asked, "Enjoying the show, pervs," as I went back into the bathroom to get dressed. I was embarrassed but didn't think it was a big deal. I thought they are guys, of course; they were hoping to catch a look.

When I came out of the bathroom, I told them, "I hope you enjoyed the show because it's over now." I was trying to let them know that they shouldn't be embarrassed about seeing me almost entirely naked. I got into bed and watched some videos on my phone as they continued playing cards and talking trash to each other. I have always thought their relationship was cute. They always had each other's back. I don't know if it was because I saw them for the first time as an adult or because I was on the road with them, but watching them, I realized they were handsome guys. Besides their drinking, they kept in good shape. They were both roughly around six feet tall. Neither of them was overweight, nor did they have a gut. They were what I would describe as ruggedly handsome, manly men. I could see why when women came to pick their cars up, they would flirt with them.

While watching videos, my father asked me if I wanted to sit with them and have a drink. I wasn't surprised that he offered me a drink. My father has always been the soft parent, while all my mother did was complain about the most minor things. I remember getting caught coming home drunk by my father, and he left me alone, whereas my mother would scream and nag me for days. "I don't think I've ever had whisky before. Where am I supposed to sit," I asked.

"Are you too old to sit on your father's lap," my dad asked.

"It's because of how old I am that I shouldn't sit on my father's lap," I joked as I got out of bed and headed towards them. I sat on my father's lap as I grabbed the bottle of whisky and drank some. I didn't know much about cards, but they explained to me how they played, why the hands won, and why they didn't. We were passing the bottle around every few minutes. All I thought was how happy I was that I had come with them.

After a few hands, I stopped drinking with them. Whisky kind of sneaks up on you, and I didn't want to get sick. Plus, I was already buzzed. I held my father's cards for him as I leaned back, resting my back against his chest while my head rested on his shoulder. He would point to the cards he wanted to put down as if I was his personal cardholder. Then, my father rested one of his hands on my thigh. Initially, I didn't think much of it being there, even though it was on my bare skin. About ten or fifteen minutes later, my father's hand slowly started rubbing my thigh. I thought it was strange that he was rubbing me, but again, I didn't say anything. His rubbing actually felt good, I thought to myself. When the bottle was passed to me this time, I drank some. I was worried that my buzz would wear off, but I felt relaxed with the buzz I had and wanted to maintain it.

My father's hand continued to move around my thigh as he tried to move it to the inside of it. Initially, he was unsuccessful because I sat with my legs closed tightly together. As I drank some more whisky, my father made a second attempt to rub the inside of my thigh. I don't know why I did it, but I parted my legs slightly, giving him the access he was looking for. My uncle was oblivious to what was going on. Frank was just happy that he was winning every hand. Frank broke the silence, "Are the two of you ok over there? You're both awfully quiet for people getting their asses kicked."

My father said, "All's good over here. We're just relaxing, right, Maggie?"

My father's fingers had been tracing around the inside of my thigh for the past few minutes, and I had gotten caught up with the chills he was causing me. Him asking me a question broke me from my trance. "Um...yeah...Dad...All good over here," I stumbled over my words. When the bottle of whisky came back to me, I told them, "This is my last drink of the night. I can't hang with the two of you drunks," and let out a faint giggle. I was more buzzed than I needed to be, and to be honest, I thought my father was too.

My father whispered in my ear, "Put the three and the nine down." His breath in my ear caused me to react. I can't really describe the feeling, but it added to the chills I was already suffering from.

I whispered back, "Ok, Dad."

My uncle asked, "What are you guys whispering about over there? Is me against the both of you?"

"She's learning how to play. I can't tell you what she's doing," my father told Frank.

"Yeah, Uncle Frank. Don't worry about us over here. Worry about our comeback," I chimed in.

My father was getting braver and braver with his rubbing. His hand was on the inside of my thigh when I felt him slip it under the hem of my shorts. One of his fingers was caressing the crease of my thigh right next to my vagina. I felt my nipples harden with this round of chills running through my body. Of course, I wasn't wearing any panties, so he was awfully close to my bare vagina. Again, he whispered in my ear, "Is this, ok?"

Between my buzz, where his hand was, and his breath hitting my ear again, I felt lost. Softly, I said, "Yes. You're ok, Dad." I could feel my father's penis growing under me. All of this was weird to me, and I could have stopped whenever I wanted, but for some reason, I didn't. It felt hypnotic and naughty being felt up by my father while my uncle was sitting right there. His finger brushed against my outer lips, sending a jolt through my body, causing me to take a deep breath.

Frank noticed my breathing as he was now watching me. I tried to hold the cards in front of my face so he wouldn't be able to see me. My father whispered in my ear, "Feel good?"

I turned my head and whispered in his ear, "Yes." To this day, I don't know what got into me that night. Yes, he made me feel good even though I knew it was wrong.

He whispered again, "Can I keep going?"

Again, I don't know why I said what I said. I whispered, "Yes. You can keep going."

Finally, Frank chimed in. "I don't know what's going on over there and all the secrets, but I'm going to hit the sack after this hand." Then, I suspected that he knew something was going on when he said with a chuckle, "Maggie, you look cold."

I knew my uncle's comment was about my nipples poking against my shirt. My father was sliding a finger around my vaginal lips when I made an attempt to speak. My voice was noticeably shaky as I said, "Yeah...It's a little chilly in here. I need to get under the blankets when I get to bed." I sat up, and when I did this, my legs parted wider. I felt the tip of one of my father's fingers slide through my lips and penetrate me. He kept it there without any movement until the card game ended.

We all got up at the same time to go to bed. I was the first one in bed. I laid on my side facing my uncle's bed. My father was on the other side of the bed getting ready to get in, I assumed. My uncle was now standing between the two beds, so he was right in front of me. Frank was facing me as I watched him undo his belt and the button on his jeans. Once he pulled his zipper down, I watched as he pulled his jeans down and off. When he stood up after removing them from his ankles, he pulled his boxers down, briefly exposing his penis. It was literally inches from my face. I looked up at him, and he smiled at me. Neither of us said a word. His penis was larger than anyone I had seen, not that I had seen a lot.

I felt my father getting into bed behind me. I lay there frozen, not knowing what he was going to do or what he expected from me. My father wrapped an arm around me, attempting to pull me close to him. I scooted backward to assist him. Uncle Frank joked, "Keep the noise down, you two. If you keep me awake, you'll have to make room for me over there."

I quickly replied, "Stay over there, Uncle Frank. We don't have any room for you over here." I have no idea why I said what I said or why I wasn't more concerned about what was going on with the two of them. I mean, I had just been felt up by my own father, and my uncle exposed his penis right in my face. I know their behavior should have mortified me, yet I still talked trash and cracked jokes. I chalked it to being buzzed. Because of the drinking, I wasn't thinking properly, and I let my father work me up, which made me lose all sense of right and wrong. I thought it was over and would use it as a learning experience.

Frank didn't let my wisecrack go. "Well, keep the noise down. I don't want to be listening to heavy breathing all night."

I waited for my father to say something, but he didn't. At the very least, I expected him to tell Frank to knock it off. I figured everything was over, and it was just something stupid my father and I did because we had been drinking. I couldn't let Frank have the word, though. "Don't be jealous, Uncle Frank. It makes you sound desperate," I said as I giggled. Frank turned the light off, and turned the room pitch black.

I laid there thinking about being felt up by my dad. I can't believe he did that. More shocking was that I let him. I don't know why I wasn't upset with him, but I wasn't. Within a few minutes, Frank was snoring. Once my father heard him snoring, he placed his hand under my shirt. Initially, he rested it on my stomach. Then, it started exploring more. He was tracing his fingertips around my stomach and my side. I lifted my arm, raising it so he had access to my side. Again, his touch felt good. It's going to sound strange, but how his fingertips brushed against my skin was soothing. He was now caressing the side of my breast. My breathing was heavy while my heart raced. His hand cupped my breast, and he circled a finger around my nipple. I was still feeling the effects of the whisky but knew everything that was happening. As his hand was lowering down my torso, he whispered in my ear, "Does this feel good?"