Chapter 14: Mom’s Business Trip Weekend – Day 1

Mom’s taillights disappeared down the street at exactly 9:17 a.m., the silver SUV shrinking to a speck before the summer haze swallowed it whole. The second the garage door rumbled shut behind her, I peeled off the thin tank top and cotton shorts right there in the foyer, letting them puddle at my bare feet. Naked. Completely. The cool hardwood kissed my soles, air licking every inch of skin like a lover’s tongue—nipples tightening instantly, goosebumps racing down my belly to the slick heat already blooming between my thighs. Three days. Three full days of nothing but Daddy and me.

My fingers flew across the phone screen. Your wife is ready, Daddy.

The reply came before I even set the phone down: On my way. Stay exactly like that.

I moved through the house like I owned it—because I did now. Breasts swaying with every step, pussy already glossy from the simple thrill of obedience. The kitchen first. I cracked eggs into the skillet, butter sizzling, the scent of breakfast mixing with the faint garage grease that always clung to him. My mind replayed the last two weeks: the blanket ride with Mom two feet away, the shower fingers stretching my ass for the first time, the sleepy 3 a.m. creampie that left me leaking all morning. Every hole had been claimed except one. Today that changed.

The side door from the garage opened. Dad stepped in still in his work jeans and boots, salt-and-pepper hair tousled, compass tattoo flexing on his forearm. His eyes dragged over my naked body like he was memorizing every curve—heavy breasts, peaked nipples, the smooth plane of my stomach, the glistening slit between my thighs already slick just from waiting. “So fucking beautiful,” he growled, voice low and wrecked. “My babygirl. My wife.”

No words needed. He crossed the kitchen in three strides, spun me to face the counter, and bent me over it. The granite edge pressed cold against my belly and the undersides of my tits. Eggs kept sizzling behind me as he yanked his jeans down. His thick cock—veined, heavy, already leaking—nudged my soaked entrance once, then slammed home in one brutal thrust. Doggy over the stove, spatula still in my trembling hand, pan jumping with every snap of his hips. The wet slap of skin mixed with the crackle of bacon I’d thrown in. Cold stone against my heated skin, hot grease popping while he used me like another tool in his garage.