Maggie's Road Trip

This is chapter 5 of Maggie's story. This story contains people taking advantage of a family member. If This material offends you, please don't read.

As I stared at myself in the mirror, I watched a tear roll down my cheek. I knew that what I was doing was wrong, and for some reason, I was emotional. The emotions I was feeling concerned me. Then, I realized what time of the month it was. Unfortunately for them, but luckily for me, I was not going to be available to them for the rest of this road trip. The tears and emotions now made sense to me. I always get emotional at this time of month. I washed my face and cleaned up the mess my uncle had left before returning to bed with them.

The following morning, I told my father that we needed to make a stop for some feminine products. I watched the disappointing look on his face, as he asked, "No more fun nights on this trip, huh?"

"Doesn't look like it, Dad. I'm sorry, but at least we have some good news after all of this. There was the one time," I brought up that he finished inside of me a few nights ago to see what his reaction would be.

My father told me, "Good point. Yeah, I got carried away, didn't I? I hope we can still have fun, even if it's not on this trip."

Of course, he wanted to know if all of this was going to continue beyond this road trip. I had put myself in this situation with them, I thought. I realized that they were not going to consider stopping what was happening. Did I want them to stop, I thought. Did I have a say? How would we be able to continue all of this once we were all home? These were the thoughts shooting through my brain that I had no answers to in the moment. I was trying not to be overemotional. I especially didn't want them to see me being emotional. I tried not to commit to anything. I wanted to see what his reaction would be, "Well...I'm not sure how that would work. We won't have privacy when we get home. It's not like we'll be alone in motels all the time. It's a little risky. Don't you think?"

My father showed how unwilling he was to stop what we were doing. "We can figure it out. If we need to rent a room, we can do that. Plus, we hope you will come with us to the cabin. We don't need to stop just because we're home," he told me.

I realized he and my uncle had already discussed how they were going to keep sharing me when we got home. I wanted to see how much say I had in all of this, so I said, "We'll see what happens, Dad. I thought all of this was going to end after this trip. I have done a lot for both of you; more than I could have imagined. I hope you both appreciate what I have done. I have given you both everything. I just don't want to get caught when we get home," then I hesitated before asking, "I don't have to if I don't want to, right, Dad?"

My father's response was intense, "We haven't forced you to do anything. Are you implying that you didn't want to do anything? I want to be clear that we wouldn't have done anything if you weren't willing to do it."

I knew I was emotional because it was that time of month. I quickly panicked as this conversation seemed to be going off the rails. I told him, "That is not what I'm saying, Dad. Don't twist my words. What I'm asking is, do I have a choice in all of this? The way you are speaking to me sounds like you and Uncle Frank have already made a decision, and that I have no say. No one was forced to do anything. But...I have given everything that you guys wanted. My body is sore from it, and I just want to make sure I have a say. Is that ok?"

My father's tone changed as he told me, "Yes, you have given us a lot. We appreciate it, trust me. We just don't think we need to end it. You don't want to end it. Do you? You seem to be enjoying yourself. We can figure it out when we get home. Ok?"

I knew I was being too emotional. I didn't want to argue with my father. I told him, "Ok...Yeah...We can figure it out. Sorry for upsetting you. I am just emotional today."

My father chuckled as he said, "Yeah, I get it. Women tend to get moody when nature comes." I didn't like him laughing at me or making that comment. He used my situation to minimize what he was doing with me, but I let it go. We all got ready and went to get the cars and hit the road.

I was curious about how the next couple of nights would be, considering they wouldn't be able to use me, to my surprise, not much changed. We still drank together; they still gave me attention, and we had fun talking shit to each other. There were times when they talked about how much they couldn't wait to get me to the cabin and have complete privacy where they didn't have to hold back. I didn't know what that meant. I felt like they weren't holding back during this road trip. What more could they do, I thought? I had already let them use me at the same time, my father had cum in me, and the most humiliating part, I had let my uncle use me by bending me over in a cheap motel bathroom.

We got back to our town late at night. We dropped the cars and trucks off at the shop. I got in my father's car and said goodbye to my uncle as we all drove home. My uncle hugged me and told me he couldn't wait to spend time with me again. Being back in our town changed how my brain was working. I felt like the road trip was an escape from our reality, and a dream. Being back home made me feel guilty about what I let them do. I blew my feelings off, telling myself, 'Dad is right, you're just emotional because of that time of month.'

When we got home, all the lights were off, which meant my mother was out cold. We parked in our garage, and without warning, my father leaned over and kissed me. This was the first time he tried anything since my monthly friend arrived. Kissing in the garage was safe enough, I thought, as I opened my mouth, welcoming his tongue to invade mine. As we made out, I heard his zipper being pulled down. I hissed, "Dad, what are you doing? I can't do anything. We can't do anything here."

My father had one of his hands on the back of my neck as he started lowering my head towards his crotch. I did not struggle with him as I allowed him to lower me to his erect dick. Before putting it in my mouth, I told him, "This is dangerous, Dad. Make sure mom doesn't come out and catch us," as I opened my mouth and started giving him a blow job. I didn't like the risk we were taking, and more importantly, I felt cheap again. This was more degrading than being bent over in the motel bathroom. Within minutes, my father gripped my hair and held me in place. I knew he was about to cum in my mouth, then I felt streams shooting into my throat. I had learned how to speed up my swallowing to keep from choking on this trip. Once he was done, I sat up and watched him pull his pants up and readjust his button and zipper. This was the first act while being sober. Sure, I had the moment with my uncle, but this was the first time I had done anything without alcohol. Not only was I not drunk, but it was also dangerous to do what we did where we did it. I asked, "Happy now, Dad?"

My father was smiling as he told me, "You have no idea, Maggie. You are getting so good at that."

I felt used, but I didn't say anything. This wasn't the time to complain, I thought to myself. Instead, I told him, "Well, we need to be careful. We're fucked if we get caught, Dad." My father agreed that we needed to be careful. We grabbed our bags and went into the house. As we were about to split to go to our rooms, my father kissed me on my lips and told me he loved me. I told him that I loved him too as we went our separate ways.

As I laid in my bed, everything I had done came crashing down on me. I replayed everything in my head. I couldn't believe what I had done with my father and uncle. I couldn't believe how they used me as their plaything all week. More importantly, what was bothering me the most was knowing they were now in bed with their wives, my mother and my aunt. Were they thinking about me? Or...Were they having sex because a warm body was next to them? Was that all I was to them? A warm body to pleasure them? These were the thoughts that kept me from sleeping. I was struggling between feeling used and missing their attention.

I had forgotten to set my alarm for work and was awoken by my mother. I scrambled around my room while asking, "Is Dad still here?"

My mother laughed as she told me, "Your father is a machine. He was up at five, and out the door the minute the coffee was ready. It's probably really busy at the shop because the three of you took a week-long vacation and left the customers stranded. I suggest you get in there."

I had only gotten an hour or two of sleep as I threw my clothes on and headed to the shop. As I walked into the shop, one of the mechanics, my father's cousin, Jim, yelled out, "Look who decided to come back to work. The schedule is updated. You can get back to work now that everything has been done." I wasn't in the mood for sarcasm this morning, but needed to act as if it was any other day. I said good morning to everyone as I scheduled people for pickup times for their cars.

I had to ask my father a question, so when I didn't see him, I figured he was in the office in the basement. I went into the office where he and my uncle were sitting. Again, being back home and resuming my everyday routines after everything I had done seemed weird to me. I felt like I was walking on eggshells and didn't know how to act. I asked them about a specific car for a pickup time. They acted like they would on any other day. "Tell them they can get it at five. Quick question, Maggie. We are going to have to work on your car after hours. Can you stay late on those nights and help us with some things, and maybe get us food?"

I wondered how they were able to turn everything off and on. They showed no signs of anything. It was like a typical day to them. "Yeah, Dad, I can do that. It's not like I have a life." They laughed at my comment, and I went back to work.

During the day, I checked to see if they were looking at me or checking me out. Not once did I suspect them of looking at me. My confidence took a hit with the thought that they had moved on. All I could tell myself was that I needed to make it through today, and I would be fine, as I tried to convince myself that I was more than a plaything on the road for them.

A week and a half had passed before they started working on my car. During that time, everything returned to everyday routines. They hadn't looked at me, they didn't try to get me to do anything, and neither of them mentioned what happened when we were on the road. I had come to the conclusion that it was over. I thought they were home and my mother and aunt were taking care of them, and they were done using me. Part of me was relieved that I didn't need to worry about what was going to happen next. Towards the end, I had felt cheap and whorish. I was happy not to feel that way again. But I missed them. I liked having their attention. I liked how they made me feel physically, and I missed the fear and excitement they exposed me to. I couldn't decide if I was happier to be back to normal, or if I missed what they did to me more.

On a Saturday, they began working on my car. The shop closed at three on Saturdays, and my father asked, "You're sticking around, right? I mean, it is your car we are working on."

I had nothing planned, and all I had done since I've been home was sit in my bedroom, watch TV, and work. "Of course, Dad. If you guys are here, then I'm here. Is it the three of us?" I asked.

I got excited by the thought of the three of us hanging out together again. It would be the first time we were alone since we came home. My father disappointed me when he said, "No, Jim is going to help us. This Jeep needs a lot of work, and he volunteered to help us. We want to get this done as quickly as possible for you, considering all you did for us on the road trip."

I appreciated that he acknowledged what I did for them, and wanting to get the Jeep ready for me, but I was disappointed that it wasn't going to be the three of us. I like Jim. He's a decent guy, and funny in a sarcastic way. He's the garage smartass and said the first thing that came to his head, no matter how offensive it was. I was surprised that Jim's wife was letting him stay to help. She was an extremely jealous woman. Every time he did stuff with my uncle and father; she wanted timely updates. Even when they went hunting and stayed at the cabin, he would have to text her updates, and if he didn't, she would lose her shit and accuse him and everyone else of shady things. I never got the jealousy of him. I mean, don't get me wrong, he is a good looking guy. He was probably in his forties and in great shape, but I never understood why she would think women fell all over themselves for him.

"Oh, ok, Dad. Thanks for helping, Jim," I said with a hint of disappointment in my voice. As they began working on my car, I got caught up on filing receipts and updating the shop's books. I had wrapped everything up in about an hour.

Then, Jim and Uncle Frank said they were going to get some beer and pick up some pizza. Frank asked me if I wanted anything specific from the liquor store. Jim jumped into the conversation, "Isn't she only eighteen?"

My uncle told him, "She can drink if she wants. She knows only to drink when her father and I are around." They were talking about me like I wasn't there.

I wondered what Jim thought about what was just said to him. I wondered if he would be against me drinking, which would be expected for any adult. Especially one with a daughter the same age as me. Then he shocked me, "None of my business, and as you guys know, I keep my mouth shut."

I shouldn't have been surprised, I thought. He was my father and uncle's cousin. And...he was a man. I told them, "I'm good. I think my drinking days may be behind me. Thanks for asking, though." I felt like my dad said more than he should have by implying I did stuff for them on the road trip. I wondered if Jim picked up on that comment as I watched them leave.

Once they were gone, my father asked me to come to the downstairs office with him to help him with something. When we got into the office, he closed the door behind us. He immediately lifted my shirt over my head and undid the clasp on my bra. As I was about to say something, his tongue invaded my mouth. We were making out as he slowly walked me towards the dingy couch he kept in the office. My heart rate went back to pounding through my chest as it had done in the motel rooms we shared. I wanted to protest, but I didn't. He unbuttoned my jeans and lowered the zipper. He hooked his fingers onto the sides of my panties as he pulled them off. I was completely nude as he told me, "Go ahead, Maggie, lie on the couch."

My breathing was heavy as I did what he told me to do. I watched him as he pulled his pants down to his ankles. My father got on top of me as he rubbed the head of his dick on my slit until I felt it part my pussy, and started pushing inside of me. As he filled me, I moaned, "Shit...Dad...Fuck."

He growled in my ear, "Did you miss me?"

The couch was uncomfortable, and it made me feel cheap and used being fucked on it. With that being said, I missed him stretching me like this. He was like an animal as he started pounding me. I moaned, "Is this what you wanted...Daddy...Did you miss this...Fuck, Dad." No matter how bad doing this, being used like this, felt, I couldn't resist how my body embraced it. I loved how my body reacted to being destroyed by my father's dick. It was as if I were a different person when they took advantage of me. Before I was able to cum, my father pulled out of me and came on my stomach. I was sweaty as I laid there watching him have his way with me.

It all happened fast. Before we knew it, we heard my uncle and Jim return to the shop. My father told me, "Stay here for a few. We don't need you going up stairs looking like you just got fucked. Ok?"

I was out of breath, watching him pull his pants up as he handed me a cloth to wipe his cum off my stomach. "Ok...Dad..."Yeah, I'll wait," I panted.

My father left me on the couch naked and went back upstairs. I could hear them talking but couldn't make out what they were saying while I lay on the dirty couch nude. A minute or two later, my uncle came into the office and closed the door. "Good, you're not dressed yet. Your father said I should come down."

Because I wasn't expecting anyone to walk in, I jumped off the couch. Before I could regain my thoughts, Frank had me bent over the arm of the sofa. I whined, "What the fuck, Frank...Hold...on," as he lined himself up and buried his dick inside of me.

As his dick ripped through my pussy, my protests stopped and my moaning returned. "F.F.Fuck...Frank...Fuck...AH...OOOHHH...F.F.F.Fuck," I squealed as he ravished me. My only hope was he would last long enough for my orgasm to hit before finishing.

Then, he did it again. He put his hand on my throat. When he did this, my pussy came alive. I was now slamming into his dick. Uncle Frank said, "You like it like this? You like having men control you, don't you?"

As he asked these questions, his hand got tighter. As his hand on my throat got tighter, my pussy exploded on his dick. I was whining, "Yes...Yes...Yes," to his questions. Not only did I not have any control over what was happening, I had no control over how my body felt, or the words leaving my mouth.

My uncle pulled out of my now limp body that was hanging over the arm of the couch. As he did in the bathroom, his dick brushed against my anus. He quickly shot his load on my anus. I thought I felt him try to push it inside of me there, but his explosion happened so quickly, I wasn't positive that he intended to enter me there. He stood up and pulled his jeans up, just as my father had done. I was sitting on the couch, exhausted. He knelt in front of me and raised my face to his. He told me, "Thank you, Maggie. I really needed that and missed having you." Then he kissed me. When our tongues met, I felt less dirty. I felt what I had done was appreciated. When our kiss ended, he told me, "Wash up in the bathroom. You look like someone who just had sex. As a matter of fact, this room smells like sex. I'll see you upstairs."

I waited in the office for about twenty minutes before putting my clothes back on. I felt weak, and my pussy was sore from what I had just done. I walked out to use the bathroom when I ran into Jim. He told me, "Go ahead, you can use it first. You look like you need it more than me," with a chuckle.

I tried to play off that I was fine, "No...Thanks...Jim. You can use it first. I'm fine." I was mortified that he saw me like this. My clothes were disheveled, and I knew my hair was a mess.

"Yes, you are," he said.

I didn't pick up on what he meant, so I asked defensively, "I am what?"

Jim smiled at me as he entered the bathroom. "Fine, Maggie. You are fine," he said, emphasizing the word "fine" for me. When he came out of the bathroom, he said, "I hope I didn't offend you by saying you were fine? I mean, you are a little hottie, and we all know it."

I tried to give a smile at his compliment, and told him, "I'm not offended. All guys are perverts, and I hear it all the time," I lied to divert the conversation.

"Well, the guys who got you to look like that are lucky. I'd trade places with them in a second," he said, implying he knew what I had just done.

I said nothing in return. Instead, I went into the bathroom to clean myself up. I looked at myself in the mirror. My embarrassment hit a new low. My mascara had run down my face. My hair resembled someone who just had the life fucked out of her. There was no way Jim didn't know what happened to me. I washed my face and fixed my hair the best I could before returning upstairs.