Chapter 2: Dad Does Me in the Garage

It was the end of summer break and I was almost finished packing up my things to return to school. I have my own car now so my parents didn’t have to drive me over three hours to school and then back again. While overall I think they appreciated not having to make the long drive, it DID mean that our goodbyes had to be said here at home and not at school - something that got pretty interesting in years past.

Down in the garage, I was standing behind my car with the trunk wide open and what seemed like a never-ending pile of stuff surrounding me as I pondered how I was going to fit the last of it in. Somehow during the past few hours, what had seemed to be a huge trunk earlier had shrunk dramatically! It was like a Twilight episode or something.

“Hey baby, how’s it going?”

I turned to see who was talking to me and there was my dad at the door leading to the basement from the garage. Our house is on a typical steep Pittsburgh hill so the garage was attached to the basement at the rear of our house. Thus the door from the garage lead to the basement where our family room was. We had a formal living room upstairs with fancy furniture and a fireplace but that was reserved for entertaining guests. As a result most of our time was spent in the basement where the large screen TV loomed and lots of comfortable furniture was available.

It was Labor Day my dad was home for the holiday. The last time I had checked he was watching TV and didn’t even seem to notice when I passed by with another armful of stuff. Sure, he had offered earlier to help me pack but when one look at what he was watching on the TV and I just smiled and told him to relax and enjoy himself.

Indeed, one of the things I would miss at school was seeing my dad jerking off to a porn flick! My goodness, at my school even discussing masturbation was taboo, let alone doing it on front of anyone. Frankly, I’ve never understood the big deal about it. I mean, what’s the point in trying to hide it? I was raised understanding that everyone has “needs” and sometimes the best way to deal with them was to masturbate. There was nothing dirty or pornographic about masturbation. After all, doesn’t just about everyone do it?

My parents had seen me masturbating since I was barely a teenager and it never resulted in some sort of perverted orgy or any other silly thing that the porn movies would make you think would happen. I get disgusted at them sometimes because they mislead people so badly. What is the point in having to sneak up to my room after getting horny from seeing a hot guy on TV instead of just taking care of myself wherever I am at the time? Really, so what if my parents are in the room? It wasn’t like I was doing it for them or anything (well, at least I usually didn’t.)

So anyway, seeing my dad at the door I surmised either the movie was over or he had cum and was finished, at least for the moment. It wasn’t very hard to figure out as judging from the bulge pushing out the front of his athletic shorts, I was pretty sure it was the former! It wasn’t just his erection that told me what he had on his mind. He had that distinctive look in his eyes, the same look I got from the lonely guys at the mall get when I would tease them. I smiled to myself as I realized that my father was horny as hell and it didn’t take any special female intuition to see that it was his intention to take care of his “special needs”.

My pussy was tingling, just as it always does whenever I see my dad this way. Well, what can I say? It’s not my fault that it excites me knowing that my dad wants to fuck me more than anything else at this moment. Regardless of all that, it is God’s command that you honor your father and as his daughter, if that meant allowing him fuck me whenever he wanted to, then that is was what I had to let him do. Please don’t take that to mean he forces himself on me or anything sick like I am his slave. My father respects me completely and would never ask me to do anything I didn’t want to. Thus it works out well for both of us as I enjoy being with my dad this way. Fortunately, not every responsibility I have needs to be unpleasant!

“Ohhhhh, I’m about finished, daddy,” I replied as I squeezed the last bag into the trunk and tried to close it.

The damn thing resisted me at first so I jumped up and pushed down on it. A loud click signified my triumph over technology! Relieved it stayed closed, I looked back at him again and licked my lips at the sight of his erection. OK, technically I couldn’t see it because it hidden behind his shorts but it was oh so obvious what was going on in there. My dad had to be careful to wear tighter underwear when we were together in public to keep from being so obvious about how I made him feel.

I’ll never forget the time in church after he had fucked me earlier at home and now he was horny for me again. Just before the service started and it was still noisy, I leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, “Wanna fuck me again daddy?” That was all it took to set him off again. When he stood up for the opening hymn, I almost giggled out loud when I saw him poking out so obviously. The poor guy had to press against the pew in front of us to hide the erection that his loose boxer shorts didn’t have a prayer to contain.

My mother was furious at us and I thought she was going to slap him right then and there. I thought the whole thing was hilarious - well, I guess you had to be there. To finish, just say that mom always set out jockey shorts for him on Sunday mornings!

“Hmmmmmm daddy, was there something special you wanted?” I teased him in a playful little-girl voice.

I put my hands on my hips and waited patiently for him to respond. Being I had expect to be heading back to school when I was done packing, I wasn’t wearing anything particularly sexy. What would be the sense getting in trouble with the dress-code Nazis at school on my first day back? A simple pair of jeans, snug but not overly tight, and a floral blouse with a pair of sneakers and other than white ankle socks, that was it.

While at school I have to wear opaque clothes and generally prudish styles so one of my personal little “rebellions” was to avoid underwear whenever possible. To be sure, I couldn’t be blatant about it, and with some outfits there wasn’t an option but to wear something to avoid being arrested. The nice thing about jeans is that there is no need for panties or even a thong unless I plan to be teasing someone later. My 34C boobs are plenty firm enough to let me get away without a bra in most outfits unless the material is excessively tight or sheer. I had my hair pulled back in a simple ponytail and was wearing just the bare minimum of makeup so it wasn’t like I was looking super sexy or anything, at least not to me when I looked in the mirror. Actually, some guys seem to prefer me this way, saying it gave me that “girl-next-door” look. Maybe so but to me I am never sure if that means I am sexy or just plain.

“Oh yeah baby,” my dad said with a twinkle in his eye, “And daddy’s little slut knows what he wants, doesn’t she?”

That was my dad’s favorite nickname for me, “Daddy’s little slut”, and I just LOVED it when he called me that - and he knew it. As for me, I loved calling him “daddy” when we were fooling around with each other instead of “dad” like I usually did (or “father” when I was perturbed with him). I NEVER can even remember calling him John, not even in jest. I know some girls who call their parents by their first names but that just seems so disrespectful to me.

As for the “slut” part, well what can I say about it? After all, I AM a slut and quite proud of it actually, especially in the sense that my dad intends when he calls me that. When most people call me a slut I know that it means that they see me as someone who is sexy and not afraid to show off a bit or even do something about it. From that perspective, why would I consider it a slur? Of course, some people use it as a way to be mean or to criticize and naturally I do not like it under those circumstances. I know my dad doesn’t mean it that way and when he calls me a slut it is like the ultimate compliment that he can give me! There is something special when my dad says it though. He is telling me that I am HIS little slut which makes me feel especially good and warm inside.

Looking at my dad, indeed, there was no doubt in my mind whatsoever what he wanted. My dad had one thing on his mind now and that was to fuck his daughter! I felt a shiver down my back as I realized that for all practical purposes, it was a done deal now. No matter what my plans or intentions may have been even a few minutes ago, there was no way I was NOT going to be fucked in the next few minutes.

When my dad was in this mood there was only one way for things to turn out - he was going to fuck me. I was OK with it and actually I was proud of the fact that in the past five years since I first gave myself to my father, I had NEVER refused him. Sure there had been times when it was inconvenient or frankly, I just wasn’t in the mood. That wasn’t the case today, not by a long shot. Today there was no problem for me at all - I was just as horny as he was knowing that once I left for school, the odds of having sex (at least with someone other than myself) were pretty poor.

My car was the only one in the garage as my mother was out shopping and my dad had left his SUV out in the driveway so I would have more room to pack. I had pulled in the middle of the garage and had all the doors open as well as the trunk to make it as easy as possible to find just the right place to stuff that last thing I couldn’t fit anywhere else.

Not only did our property slope sharply from front to back, thus allowing the garage to be attached to the basement in the rear, but it also sloped side to side going down the street in front of us such that each house was about half a story lower than the one preceding it. Our driveway ran down the side of our house before turning into the garage so there was a retaining wall on one side to keep the neighbor’s house from falling into ours. The result was that once you were about half-way into our garage, unless you were actually standing in our own driveway or lying flat on our neighbor’s driveway, there was no way for anyone to see inside.

At this moment that was proving to be convenient. I slowly walked from the rear of my car to the front fender ahead of the driver’s door and leaned over onto the hood, putting both hands flat on the hood and looking back over my shoulder at my dad.

“Ohhhhhhhhh, I think I have an idea what you want,” I said seductively as I started to seriously tease my dad.

When he got this way I loved to tease him a bit at first rather than just throw myself at him. Of course, he wouldn’t have objected had I simply walked up to him, pulled down his shorts and started sucking his cock right then and there on the steps. Truthfully, that didn’t sound like such a bad idea the more I thought about it! Even so, I knew that it would be worth it in the end to tease just a little bit at first and flirt, even if he was my father (or should I say, because he was my father!) This wasn’t the same as when I flirt at the mall with the men and boys. Then I have no intention whatsoever of allowing them to so much as touch me, let alone do anything else.

Fooling around at the mall was the definition of true flirting - or cock-teasing as the guys preferred to call it. With my dad, though, it was more like giving him an appetizer or a preview. No matter how much I pretended that it was not decided one way or the other, in the end he knew he was going to get it. Still, I think it’s more fun to do it this way and at least pretend he had to try to work to have me. I wiggled my butt at him a little and giggled like a little girl.

“So daddy, see anything you like?” I said as I kept giggling at him like an eighth grader.

“Hmmmmmm, I THINK so,” he replied with a clever smile, “But how can I be sure with all those clothes covering you up?”

He was so silly sometimes! I laughed and flipped my head around, making my ponytail fly out straight which always felt fun to me. Sometimes I would shake my head back and forth just to make it whip from side to side. Sometimes I toyed with the idea of cutting it shorter or letting it grow longer but this length seemed to be a good compromise. Indeed, one of the worst things I ever did to my hair was to bleach it blonde one summer when I was nineteen. Not only that, but I had it cut it a bit shorter than usual and I almost cried the first time I saw myself in the mirror (actually I did cry but it wasn’t the girl’s fault - I asked for it). Not only did it drastically change the way I looked more than I was expecting, but people treated me differently afterwards.

It may sound like a cliche but yes, people DO treat blondes like they are stupid. The only good thing, if you want to call it that, was they also expected me to be “looser” than your typical brunette. Before I got my contacts I use to wear glasses - and sometimes I do when my eyes are bothering me. During those times it was just the opposite as people seem to treat a brunette with glasses like some sort of nerd! Not only that, but guys automatically assumed when they first met me that I was Little Miss Prude. Needless to say, it was an impression I soon changed once they got to know me!

Turning around, I leaned back against the fender and grinned at my dad as I slowly undid my belt and unbuttoned my jeans after which I slowly slid the zipper down to the bottom. I spread the waist open but without any panties to reveal there was nothing showing but bare skin. My pussy was still well hidden as the jeans were much too high on my waist to reveal anything of importance. Putting my hands to my side, I rested them on the fender and smiled at my dad again.

“Is this better daddy?” I asked innocently as if I had actually done something significant.

Of course he shook his head and just folded his arms as if he was prepared to wait me out until I did what he wanted. I grabbed the sides of my jeans and pulled them down and off my ass until they were down to my knees. I leaned back again and the cold steel of my car met my now bare bottom. Having just shaved this morning, my pussy and legs were smooth as a baby’s behind without a single hair showing.

My dad nodded his approval and motioned with his hand for me to keep going. I looked out through the open garage door and all I could see was the wall on the far side of the driveway as I was far enough inside that the house next door was up too high to see from my angle. Well, if I couldn’t see them, then I guess they couldn’t see me. It was an older couple next door to us in that direction anyway and I rarely even saw them so it wasn’t a big concern of mine.

I wiggled my ass with my legs closer together resulting in my jeans falling from my knees to my ankles. Although I tried at first to kick them off, my sneakers foiled my initial attempts so I slid them off, leaving my socks on so that I wouldn’t have to go barefoot on the garage floor. My dad kept it pretty clean but it was still a garage floor. This time the jeans came off and with the second leg they flew across and hit the wall!

I put my hands to my mouth as I couldn’t believe I had kicked them that hard but my dad just laughed. Besides, he wasn’t looking at the jeans - he was more interested in what the jeans had been covering up until now. A grin came to face as I saw his eyes zooming in on my bare pussy. It made me feel good to see him looking at me that way.

For the moment I was bare-bottom, leaning back against the car. It was more comfortable for me as for whatever reason, I’ve always enjoyed running around with a top on but bare-bottom down below. At night around the house I usually wear either one of my dad’s dress shirts or a t-shirt without anything else. While my dad’s shirts were big enough to cover me enough to make me decent at a church sleepover, most of my t-shirts were not all that long and usually left my ass showing and everything else as you might imagine.

It wasn’t just the sexual nature of the clothing, although that was certainly a factor at times, but as much an issue of comfort for me. I just didn’t feel comfortable running around with my boobs hanging out and even the slightest protection of a t-shirt was enough to make me feel more secure. It wasn’t the same with my ass. If anything, I loved the feel of cool air against my butt and the way it felt when I sat down on the couch or a chair. Also, not having something pulling up my crotch was a pleasure all in of itself. Like bras and panties, there was a time and place for “camel-toe” outfits but for general everyday living, just not for me. So after all that is said and done, I was left in the garage with nothing on but my blouse which hung down to my waist but wasn’t exactly being very useful in covering up my privates!