My Wedding Shower

With my wedding just six weeks away, my grandmother wanted to throw me a shower. With her getting older she didn't want to make too many trips to Pittsburgh so she asked me if I could make it to her house in Illinois instead. She had a number of friends that knew me from when I would visit as a teen and they were all going to get together to throw me a wedding shower. Considering their average age would be well over forty, probably more like fifty or sixty, it likely wasn't going to be anything like the one my friends were plotting for me back home. Still, I imagined it would include some of the usual silly games and prizes mixed with some practical gifts. The big thing was that it would please my grandmother and to me that was the most important part.

On the bright side two of my bridesmaids (I was having six in all counting the MOH) said they would attend the shower. They were going to drive together and go home after the shower as they had to work the next day. At least I'd have someone to talk with that wasn't twice my age! I didn't envy them the long drive back that night but they were determined to help me with my shower. Once of them had recently gotten married herself and I'd been a bridesmaid in her wedding so she was returning me the favor as well. Neither of them knew anything about the things me and my dad did in private, or even of some of the things my fiance and I had been doing since we'd gotten engaged. Both were really sweet girls and while they WERE good friends and thus knew a lot of my past history, I doubted that they would've really wanted to know everything about all that stuff anyway.

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There are two basic options to get from Pittsburgh to the small town in Illinois where my grandmother has lived just about her entire life - drive or fly via Chicago. It's a good nine hour drive at the very least and I'd actually never driven it alone before but rather always as a passenger in the back seat. People might ask me why I don't fly but when you take into account the trip to the airport, the time to check-in and board, the flight time, then the time to get your luggage, get a car and then drive an hour to get to my grandmother's you really didn't save any time and the cost was a LOT more. Besides, I simply hate to fly in the first place.

As you might gather, I can't say I was looking forward to the trip. I should clarify it is the travel part of the trip I dreaded, not the destination. As I mentioned, this would be my first time driving it alone. In fact, it would be the furthest I'd EVER driven in one day in my life. My previous driving record had been to college which was only a three hour drive or so making this like triple my previous record.

All my life my family made at least one or two trips a year to visit my grandmother, sometimes more. My dad always did the driving with my mom in the front passenger seat and me in the back, usually seated behind my mom. Sometime my Aunt Linda and cousin Kristi would come along as well in which case my Aunt Linda would pick her spot and then the two of us would negotiate our own seats. Sometimes one of us would sit in the third seat of my dad's SUV, sometimes we both would. It was always something different and the seating arrangements usually changed several times during the course of the trip.

When I would drive back and forth to college I would make it a point to wear something "accessible" so that as I drove I could easily flip up my skirt or unzip my shorts so I could touch myself. As the windows in my car weren't tinted like my dad's SUV I had to be a bit more careful who drove by me but then there were times it was more fun NOT to be careful. Truckers were always safe to tease - even the female ones. They would honk and drive alongside of me before moving on. It was the soccer moms in minivans who I had to keep an eye out for the most. Armed with cell phones and pious attitudes, they could've called me in for indecent exposure had I not kept a rein on myself when they were pulling up alongside.

One thing I DID learn though about masturbating and driving... People may think that texting and cell phones are distracting while driving but they're nothing compared to masturbating, especially if you get serious about it. More than once I caught myself in a wrong lane or about to rear-end someone when my feelings and desires started to get the best of me. Still, it DID make the trip a lot more relaxing and passed the time quickly so I considered it worth whatever risk there might be. Thank goodness nobody is proposing a law to ban masturbation while driving!

So I was packed with my suitcase in the car and some clothes hanging in the back seat when Kristi met me at the door to kiss me goodbye. We hugged and I felt her bare breasts pressing against my thin pink T-shirt which was the only thing between our boobs. Not that this was anything unusual as Kristi was topless around the house at least 90% of the time. She had on a black thong as unlike me, she wasn't a "bottomless" girl. Not that she was shy - quite the opposite in fact. I think that for her it stemmed back from her hooker days when she would tease the guys.

"Nice... I see you're all ready for your trip," she chuckled, stepping back to give me the once-over. My cousin's eyes started at my feet which wore a comfy set of sneakers with little white anklet socks. I don't like to wear sandals or open-toed shoes when I drive as I find that to get the car cool enough for my body that my feet would often end up freezing. In addition to a light pale pink T-shirt I wore one of my favorite denim skirts, one of those that looked like they were cut from long pants but actually came off the rack that way. Needless to say I wasn't wearing panties, something Kristi seemed to feel that she had to verify herself by reaching under the back and planting her hand on my bare butt, running her finger up my ass crack to make sure there wasn't anything hiding in between my butt cheeks..

"Mmmmmmm, you know I've always envied your ass," Kristi murmured as she rubbed and squeezed my butt.

"Well you're more than welcome to come with me and rub it the whole way if you want," I teased her, not that I would've turned her down if she had accepted.

Kristi just frowned instead. Actually I knew that she would've taken me up on the offer if she didn't have so much to do over the weekend. With the local home sales market starting to pick up, it wasn't a good time for her to be taking time away from open houses. Even if she had, I think her mom would've killed her had she even suggested it as they worked as a team.

One last kiss and I was off to the turnpike. It had been ages since I'd pushed my poor car this hard but hopefully it would hold up. Based on the forecasts for the week I was praying that the air conditioning wouldn't give me any problems. The road wasn't all that crowded and once I was through the toll gate (thank you God for EZ-Pass) I set the cruise control on 70 MPH and settled in for the long haul.

It wasn't long before boredom set in. I know some people love driving and for them a road trip is heaven on earth but for me it's just about the most boring thing I can think of. I'd rather sit through an extra sermon than drive more than hour on the road, especially alone with nobody to talk to. It was bad enough when my dad drove and at least I had the back seat all to myself to do whatever I wanted - even if it was just to stretch out and sleep. Driving was worse in that you had to keep your mind on the road.

Yes, driving alone is the epitome of hell. Sometimes I wonder if masturbation got started back on some ancient cave-man road trip. Like the clan was on the move and the kids were bored and then someone discovered this wonderful way to keep them occupied and quit whining, "Are we there yet?" OK, so maybe that's stretching it a bit but the core concept still applies. I know my parents were thrilled when I started handling my own boredom issues by taking matters into my own hands - literally. The timing couldn't have been better. Just as I was getting to where keeping me occupied on the road was becoming more and more challenging, suddenly I had this new thing that if anything, made me sad when we reached our destination.

While I know some guys claim to masturbate when they drive, it has to be difficult to stroke your own dick behind a steering wheel. There are many reasons why I'm thankful for being a girl and I say a little thank-you prayer when I'm horny behind the wheel. I can't even imagine trying to wiggle out a cock from my pants and then trying to stroke it while I drive. Heck, it's hard enough for me to do it for a guy while he does the driving and all I have to do is concentrate on the task at hand! All I have to do is lift my skirt a bit and I'm home free. Even if I'm wearing panties it's a whole lot easier to slide them to one side then trying to work out this long hard dick through a pair of boxer shorts or, god forbid, tight jockey shorts.

I don't really remember at which mile marker I started touching myself but it was somewhere just after Cleveland. It's like one of those things you start to do without really even thinking about it. My mom use to nudge me at times when I first got into it and my hand would drift to my crotch at times and places it wasn't really appropriate - at least she said it wasn't. Often I was just as surprised as she was. It was like my hand developed a mind of its own and did its thing without me even realizing what was happening.

Somewhere just after crossing into Indiana I was just driving along like I was on autopilot. A few miles before I'd passed through the toll gates at the borders and it was like one of those "How did I get here already?" moments. Ever find yourself somewhere you wanted to go and then not remember hardly a thing about how you got there?

Then a horn honked and I was jolted out of whatever surreal world I was driving in at the time and looked about to me see where the obnoxious noise had come from. It had to be a truck from the deep sound of the air horn and the way it seemed to come from above me rather than right next to me. Sure enough, passing by me was this huge semi with a guy on the passenger side hanging out of the window with one arm holding on for dear life as he stretched to peer into my car. He was saying something but with my window up and the air-conditioning on full blast there was little chance of me hearing what he was saying. Still, there was no mistaking what he was looking at - ME!

It was then that I realized my skirt was bunched up around my waist, exposing my bare crotch with my one hand tucked in between my thighs. From the guy's perch above me there could be no mistaking what I was doing. Well, it's not like I was embarrassed, just surprised at the unexpected intrusion. If anything, the fact that some total stranger had "caught" me doing myself was turning me on all the more if anything. I looked up and smiled at him while spreading my legs as far apart as I could in the confines of my seat. He gave me a thumbs up which just encouraged me to do more so I pushed my finger up into me to get it good and wet, making sure he could see what I was doing, and then pulled it back out and sucked it clean like I was sucking on a Popsicle. Licking my lips, I returned my hand to where it belonged as the horn sounded once more and the truck passed me by.

Feeling a little flushed from exposing myself so blatantly, I got all the more serious about what I was doing. What I REALLY needed right then was a rest area where I could pull over and do myself properly but lord only knew how far it would be until the next one came up. Other cars were passing me as I wasn't doing 80 MPH like it seemed people thought the speed limit was but none of them had the proper height or angle to get a look inside to see what I was doing. Still, even that was sort of a turn-on as I would glance to the side to see who was passing me and then realize that they had no idea whatsoever what I was doing just a few feet away.

It was maybe half-way through Indiana when I came the first time, arching up against the seat back as I rubbed my clit fast and furious. God it felt good! A minivan with family complete with mom and dad in the front seat and three kids in the back was passing by just as I was peaking. Mmmmmmm, if only they had any idea of why I was looking a bit frazzled at the time! How would the father have answered to, "Daddy, why is that girl touching herself like that?"

My second orgasm came along just before the heavier traffic in the Chicago/Gary area started which was fortunate as I needed two hands on the wheel from this point onward. It's not like I drive all that often, especially in this sort of traffic where there were five and six lanes in each direction! I left my skirt pulled up though in hopes that maybe somebody would notice but every seemed too intent on getting to wherever they were going to notice. Oh well, their loss...

Finally I reached the last interchange and turned on the smaller highway leading to my grandmother's home town. It was amazing to see the growth in the area. Back when I was a little girl I remember my dad driving here and me looking at all the fields and pastures filled with farm animals. Oh well, now it was nothing but stores and roads. Not an improvement if you ask me.

Before long I was pulling into my grandmother's concrete driveway. It looked just the same as I remembered it all my life although now it was dwarfed by all the newer, larger homes that had sprung up during the building explosions of the past decade or so. It was a small ranch home with a basement, nothing extravagant. The corn field in the back where I use to play as a little girl was long gone - replaced by a church which suited my grandmother just fine as she switched to it and could now walk to church whenever she wanted. She had lived next to the same people since my mom was born but in the past few years even that had changed. When the older guy to the one side had moved into a nursing home after his wife died, a new couple had moved in that were in their forties. Empty-nesters, they didn't associate much with my grandma other than to be polite and say hi when they were in the back yard. The only time my grandmother mentioned them was to complain that their dog pooped in her yard all the time.

The old widow on the other side of my grandmother's house had died a few years back and been replaced by a school teacher and his family. They had two daughters, both of who were now in high school if I remembered things right. I hadn't seen them in a while and we'd never really talked much in the past although I distinctly remember my father drooling over them! I noticed the above-ground pool they'd installed shortly after moving in was still there but nobody was home at the moment so I just went in to greet my grandmother.

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Although I said that the primary reason for my trip was my wedding shower, actually I would be having a total of three of them - this one, one by my mother-in-law for her friends and family, and another by my friends (not to be confused with the bachelorette party my best friend Beth had promised me so many years before!). My mom and Steve's had initially been coordinating to hold one together but then they decided to hold off until just before the wedding when Steve's side of the family and friends from California would be coming in. My friends were talking about something a couple of weeks before the wedding so it ended up that this one was to be the first.

Just to be clear, this was my grandmother throwing the shower for me, not any of my crazy friends, and she was inviting her personal friends so I wasn't expecting it to be anything wild and crazy. In fact, the invitation list I'd seen numbered about thirty women and I hardly knew any of them. Thankfully two of my bridesmaids, Nancy and Samantha, were going to drive out the morning of the shower which I thought was really sweet of them. Sam had some friends in Indiana so they would drive back the night of the shower and spend some time there before heading back to Pittsburgh. At least I wouldn't be the only one under forty! Exactly why my grandmother couldn't have just waited until my "family" shower a month from now was beyond me but who was I to argue?

Arriving at my grandmother's house after a grueling drive, I was tired and frustrated from all the Chicago area traffic towards the end of the trip. Even though I'd done my best to keep myself "occupied" during the trip, it still was a long trip and without anyone to talk to or share the driving duties I was dead tired. Hmmmmm, or maybe it was because I did so that I was so tired?

Fortunately my grandmother is a sweetie and she had dinner ready and didn't push me to go out and do anything right away. It was crazy hot out but her back deck was shaded by several old trees that kept it down to a reasonable temperature. It was much nicer to sit out on the lounge chaise than being cooped up inside in the air-conditioning. As we sat and exchanged small talk, I looked over at the neighbors' houses. The deck was on the side of the house that was closest to the teacher's house, actually just a few feet from the property line with just enough room for a car to drive back to get to the extra garage in back. It was never used as a garage, it was really a tool shed with a garage door.

"I bet they use that pool a lot in this weather," I commented to my grandmother.

She sort of shrugged and replied, "Not nearly as much as back when the girls were little. Actually it seems like a waste as I think these days he spends more time cleaning it than they do swimming in it."

The pool was mostly above ground with a wooden security fence around the perimeter. The stairs leading to the top deck that surrounded the pool had a swinging door that I noticed was padlocked shut. Damn, so much for sneaking in and cooling off while they were out!

A while later a lady arrived to talk to my grandmother about the shower the next day. It was going to be held in the church behind her house which made it convenient. Listening in on their discussions I learned they were planning on setting up right after the service with everyone due to arrive by around 2:00 PM. Hopefully Sam and Nancy would be here by then!

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The next morning I woke in the guest bed and for a moment I was disoriented and when I looked at the alarm clock I felt a panic in my chest. Damn, I'd slept in and now I was going to be late! It was something I rarely missed, meeting with my dad before church, and now I would barely have enough time if I skipped a shower to get over there to his house and properly satisfy him before we'd be late for service.

Then my eyes focused and I remembered that I wasn't in my bedroom in Pittsburgh but rather the guest bedroom at my grandmother's house. I felt a little twinge between my legs as I realized that I wouldn't be seeing my dad this morning. Over the years I think I could count on one hand how many times I missed being with him because of something that was my fault. It wasn't so much that I missed the sex. Oh sure ANY sex is good sex but it wasn't the physical rewards that made me so conscientious about fulfilling my obligations. No matter how many times I give myself to him, I don't think I will ever grow tired of seeing the hungry look in my father's eyes when he wants me, or his deep sigh as he cums inside of me. It's the long kiss he gives me after we uncouple that tells me how I pleased him, how I satisfied his needs and desires even if only for a little while, as only a daughter can for her father.

I threw back the covers and walked down to the hall to the bathroom. I didn't hear my grandmother anywhere and the door to her bedroom was closed so I assumed she was still sleeping. After taking care of Mother Nature's urgent call I started back to the guest room and was startled when my grandmother turned the corner into the hallway and almost bumped right into me. I hadn't bothered with a robe or anything so I was stark naked at the time.