Daddy

May 28, 2014 2 Comments by ximenawrites Ximena

Daddy
by Ximena

• Ximena sent me this just yesterday — how she imagined the events before my own story, Orgasms. This sort of thing is a rare gift. I get to see my own characters through the eyes of another reader and writer. I get the feeling I didn’t really know them. ~ Will Crimson

She kissed her dad.

As she broke away, he gave her a long look. “I know it’s hot baby, but you are not wearing enough clothes.”

Jake cleared his throat and walked out the door. The screen door slammed a bit too hard.

He tugged at the bottom of her jean skirt and pouted. She swatted him and giggled.

“Come on daddy. I’m momma’s girl, and what does she always say?” She cocked an eyebrow and waited.

“’If you got it, flaunt it.’ That woman will be the death of me,” he said, referring to her mom, who was currently in the backyard topping off the roses.

“You’ve said that for the last 20 years,” she smiled and she grabbed her bag. She sneaked a look out the window at Jake. He was pacing in front of his truck.

“Longer. 20 years is all you can remember, girl,” he said.

“You need anything else from the store? I don’t want to hear it from Mama when I get back.”

“I still say I can drive you. I ain’t got shit to do all afternoon.”

“No, daddy. This is your day off. You need to relax. I’m already angry that you had Jake come over here to talk shop.”

“I like to keep a tight rein on things. God bless ‘em, but some of those men don’t know their ass from their elbow. Jake’s a God send, though”

He gave her a strange look. Her cheeks burned – she might have beamed. His compliments were few and far between, therefore precious. He looked at Jake for a long time and pensively scratched his belly button.

“Tell ‘im to behave himself and get his ass back to the garage after he drops you off. I’ll pick you up from the store in a half hour.” He sauntered into the kitchen for another beer.

“Bye.” The word came out a breath.

•

“Way to be smooth, Jake,” she said, her slim knees knocked against each other. He saw her anxiousness, and it increased his.

“What?”

His eyes traced the smooth tanned lines of her thighs. Her father had been right – the skirt was too short. He knew it was for him, but for some reason, it irked him.

“Why did you have to tip out the door like that?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t want to interfere in the love fest.”

She rolled her eyes, then pulled on the rearview mirror to check her makeup.

“Watch it! I use that.” He reached over to pull down the passenger’s side visor. His naked arm rubbed against her mouth. Her lipgloss left a coral streak on his skin. His cock twitched.

She stared at him, unblinking. Her lips still crackled with the feel of his blond arm hair. Her tube top felt too tight, and she was slick with sweat in the backs of her knees and neck. She fiddled with the knobs on the console until she found the air conditioning.

“You’re SOL. That shit don’t work. Hasn’t for a couple years.”

“Fuck!” She slapped the dashboard.

“My feelings exactly.” He gave her a half-grin. The flash of canine made her feel tight again. She pouted.

“He is a cheap, cheap man,” she said, in her thickest Carolina accent. Her mouth watered around the words. She went to school in Boston, and she had only found out recently how much she missed it. The clipped, precise English she used to fit in felt as harsh as German to her tongue.

“He does like to make a dollar holler,” Jake said. His grin widened, making the edges of his hazel eyes crinkle. “He’s a good boss, though. Best I ever had.” His arm still gleamed with her lipgloss.

Fuck him, he’s gorgeous, she thought. She thought back to the man – better said, the boy – she was seeing back in Boston. 5th generation WASP-y, but her parents were so proud. They wanted to see her rise above her roots…but the older she got, the more she grew into them. She craved her men with the smell of righteous sweat and gasoline. Soft hands didn’t do it for her – when she masturbated she dreamt of calloused fingers with oil still ground deep in the cracks. Jake was all of that, but besides a couple of stolen kisses, there had been nothing more.

She wanted more. If she was completely honest with herself, she wanted it all. Transferring to UNC and maybe, just maybe–

He moved, bucking his hips slowly to adjust himself in the worn bucket seat. His muscles flexed underneath his jeans. She licked her lips, then bit.

“You okay?” He cocked his chin at her hands. She was kneading them. Her palms shone with sweat.

“Fine. Peachy.”

“Whatever,” he said, reached over to turn on the radio. He looked at her. Her features were confusing and arousing at the same time. She was a proper young lady, but she looked no older than 16 with her hair blowing that way in the wind. He had been threatened when he first met her, thinking she would look at him only with the corner of her eye like all the other college girls did in the bars he went to, but she had turned out to have more brass in her blood than her father. She hadn’t made him feel like the help, and he had thought of her every night since then. There were flowers, and romantic dates at the steak house and looking at the stars

He dreamed big, even though he was scared of her father. Every single moment with her had been stolen. It was nearly the end of her summer break, but he still had not found the courage to make his move. She pulled her legs up on the seat. Her skirt was so short he saw her narrow nates flex underneath her white panties. The growing sweat spot in the crotch of her panties made him curse underneath his breath. He focused on the road and ignored his tingling nerve endings.

The mile marker on the old truck moved steadily in the silence.

She squeezed his forearm, making him jump. “I just don’t know where my head is.” She did not remove her hand. In fact, it moved slowly down to his bicep. He looked at it, blinking slowly.

“I’ve been waiting, Jake, but summer’s almost over. Time’s almost up.”

She stretched out her legs. There was a flash of tender inner thigh and the pink pearl of the inside of her mouth and he lost control.

He slammed into a curve. There was a loud explosion and a hiss.

“Fuck me.” He jumped out of the truck and threw his hat on the ground. The tire was completely blown out. “Shit.”

Even as he ran to the back to get the spare, he still didn’t know quite what had happened. Why had he shied away like that? He looked around for traffic, but it was a narrow country road – no one else might pass for hours. The slam of the tailgate made him jump. She sat on it, looking at him.

“Need any help?”

“No thanks,” he said. It came out brusque.

He concentrated too hard on putting the spare on, even though the scent from her bare legs right by his face was making him dizzy.

“Could you hold the lug nuts please? Don’t want to lose ‘em in this grass.”

“Sure.” She cupped her slim hands and waited. Her belly button shone with a tiny ring. Her muscles tightened in his gaze, inviting.

“Stand here by me.” He positioned the new tire and reached into her hand. The sun shone between the small gap at the top of her thighs. He cleared his throat again and began replacing the lug nuts.

She touched the back of his neck, then squeezed. “You okay? I have water in my bag. Got in the habit of doing that in the city.” Its russet heat made her sigh.

He stood still as a rabbit and waited for her to lift her hand. She tugged lightly on his collar, then pulled hard enough to make his adam’s apple hurt. She walked to the back of the truck and sat on the opened tailgate, knees spread.

“Come here, boy,” she said, her accent thick. She grabbed his waist and pulled him close. The heat between her legs was almost shocking. He realized the wetspot hadn’t been sweat.

This was not what he imagined, not for her, or for them. He saw a flash of the tube top she wore wrapped like a belt around her hips, and shook his head. This can’t be it, another encounter with an over-privileged slut with a taste for rough necks. He had been over those years ago. And he didn’t want to think that it’s all she wanted him for.

“I’m no boy,” he said, trying to extricate himself. He blushed, and the bashful look on his face only made her want him more.

“Gimme all the sass you got, but come back and show me what you’re good at,” she said. The dirty talk she had learned with her high school boyfriend came back easily, since Jake reminded her of him – a sweet boy with a trucker hat cowlick and a sweet slow way of loving that brought out the bossy in her. She hadn’t been able to play around with that side of herself since him, but Jake seemed just the type who would oblige her.

His jaw tightened and his hazels got smoky, but he didn’t move. She smirked. She saw herself, tiny but mighty in his arms. She was so aroused there was no thought to the perplexed curve of his mouth, or the fact that he was getting angry. She pulled on his collar and licked the sweat on his neck and shivered in the heat.

“Give it to me. Right here. We don’t have much time.” She squeezed between his legs, and groaned at the hardness. His hands moved to her waist and squeezed. “That’s right, sugar…”

“Is that all you want?” His eyes spit sparks on her cheeks, but she didn’t see. Her eyes were slits, her hand still moving between his legs.

“Yes. All. Now.”

He swallowed a moan and complied.

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