A Father-Daughter Day (and night)

I guess you could say that more or less describes my relationship with my dad today. There is much less spontaneous sex and more reliance on traditions to maintain. For example, when I was in high school he would come to my room every morning for a BJ or a quick fuck, sometimes just jerking off if I was sound asleep. Often I'd awaken with cum all over me or to the feel of his fatherly hard dick pushing against my lips (mouth AND pussy versions). Instead, these days we meet regularly every Sunday just before church for a quickie. The "tradition" may have changed but it's the principle that matters.

Now with my husband Steve it's a whole different ballgame. While Steve makes love to me at times, there are plenty of others when he just "fucks" me like he would any other woman. Steve loves to watch other men fuck me whereas my dad has always been happy to have me all to himself. Yes there have been times when he's watched but in almost every case the guy doing me had no idea that my dad was looking or that my dad would be fucking me later. Now with Steve the other guy definitely knows - Steve IS my husband after all!

I can't say that I ever seek out my dad just to satisfy my own arousal needs while Steve is the first man I look when I feel that insatiable need to get laid. Like WOW, nobody satisfies ME the way my husband can - not even my dad. With my dad sex is a responsibility to the point of even being a burden at times (not often but yes, there have been those rare times). While I have those same responsibilities to please my husband, I never feel that way when we're doing it.

Another area where my roles and responsibilities vary between my dad and husband involves public sex. Of course both men like it - they ARE men after all and what man doesn't want to screw a woman in a public place? The real difference is HOW they want to do it.

My dad has always been all about me and him in public areas doing something without other people catching is or even having a clue as to what we're doing. Dressing rooms, behind clothes racks, parking lots, restaurant booths, you name it. The more we can observe other people as he fucks me, the better for him but never to where we are seen. I personally think this goes back to when he was fucking me back when I was a college girl and the ramifications would have been quite significant.

Steve, on the other hand, is all about watching me getting fucked or whatever in public. Whether it be on stage for a wet T-shirt contest, sucking and fucking other men (and women) at a party, teasing guys at a bar, or simply wearing a ridiculously skimpy bikini at the beach, he's never happier than when he sees other people (men AND women) watching me and visibly lusting for me. Oh sure he enjoys his road head as much as the next guy but he never gets off from it as much as when a trucker is alongside watching and honking his horn.

Steve shared with me the week after Mother's Day that he was feeling guilty about not paying enough attention to his mother since moving out to live with me after our wedding. Considering that the two of them had lived under the same roof for twenty eight years, dealing with her divorce, his brief marriage and subsequent dissolution, the cross-country moves, and all the other challenges faced during those years, it did have to be a bit traumatic for her to suddenly become an empty-nester. So I offered a suggestion that he took up immediately - to spend a day with his mother. Just the two of them without me being the wet blanket. It's not like anything serious was going to happen - I was quite confident of THAT! Still, a son and his mother SHOULD spend some quality time together every now and then.

The next weekend was one of Steve's "split weekends" where he was off duty all day Saturday and then had to work the full day on Sunday. Like the other weird shifts he often works, the goal was to maximize time off while still providing full paramedic care to the community on a 24/7 basis. I hated it most of the time but in this case it worked in our favor as normally he wouldn't be getting anything off this weekend. So although I would've loved to spend the day with him, I was happy that he had the chance to spend some quality time alone with his mom for once.

Rather than spend the day alone, I called up my dad and not surprisingly my Aunt Linda answered the phone. I explained the situation to her and asked if my dad was going to be home this coming Saturday. She paused as she checked out their calendar on her phone and then came back with the all-clear although I learned later she DID have plans for the two of them but kindly deferred to me instead which I thought had been quite sweet of her. Little wonder she's my favorite aunt!

The rest of the week went by like a blur. Gosh, I couldn't hardly even remember the last time I'd spent an entire day with my dad. I wondered if he would want me to stay the night as well. Like I hadn't spent the entire night alone with my dad since I'd been married. Well, not like I would be getting much sleep if I did but you get the idea.

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When it comes to Steve and his mom, things are a little different to say the least, in fact it's really odd - or at least I think it is. Indeed, it took me quite a while to come to grips with it and even now I still shake my head at times. Perhaps the easiest way to explain it would be to imagine two middle-school kids making out - lots of groping and kissing but nothing actually happening. The first time Steve's mom watched him fucking me after we got married I expected a repeat of what had happened over a dozen years before... and then more. Well, nothing could be further from what happened in that that was ALL she did - watch. Heck, my own mother at least usually masturbated when she watched my dad fucking me but Steve's mom didn't even do THAT! Not a word, nothing. She wouldn't even talk about it later.

Watching Steve and his mom kissing and fondling each other, I've always marveled at the control each of them exercises. I know both of them to be very sexual in nature but yet somehow their wandering hands never go under the other's clothes, at least not down to bare skin. True, there's not much difference in fondling a boob or rubbing a pussy through a thin piece of sheer lingerie but apparently to them it DOES make a difference.

Then came Mother's Day and what I thought to be a breakthrough when Steve's mom joined me and sucked off her son. Granted, I would be the first to say that a BJ is not technically "sex" and therefore can't be counted as incest. In the end it didn't make much difference though and if anything, since that day they've been all the more circumspect even in their make-out times. Granted, I don't know for sure what goes on when they're alone together, but then why would they bother hiding anything? It's not like I wouldn't enjoy watching after all. Granted, I've never really gotten off from watching my husband having sex with other women (it's just not a turn-on, nothing to do with jealousy or the like) but with his own mother... I'd make an exception for sure. Still, I would love to have a hidden camera in her bedroom today when Steve goes to visit...

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Given it was a Sunday, showing up at my dad's place in the morning before church wasn't going to be much of a surprise. Indeed, it would've only been worthy of note if I DIDN'T. If there's one thing my dad has tried to instill in me over the years it's the importance of family traditions. Visiting my dad just before church and allowing him to fill me with his cum only minutes before the service was a tradition we'd established over the past few years and neither of us broke from it unless absolutely unavoidable. Of course it didn't hurt that I loved the naughty feeling of sitting in church just minutes after him cumming inside of me, sometimes even leaking a bit as we sat in the pews looking so innocent. OMG, sometimes I just wanted to shout to everyone, "My wonderful dad just fucked me and came inside of my pussy!"

At the start of the day it was no different than any other Sunday morning - me standing in front of my closet trying to choose an outfit to wear. Dang, like how many years of my life have been wasted in this very situation? More than I would care to admit for sure, LOL.

It's like I have two wardrobes - one for work and one for everywhere else and I really doubt that anyone would have any problems distinguishing between them. My work clothes are what I guess I could refer to as my "necessary evils". It should not be any surprise to anyone for me to say that teachers in public schools are under more scrutiny than ever these days when it comes to teacher-student relationships. Heaven help any teacher - female OR male, that doesn't conform to the strict dress and behavior rules imposed by the school board.

Basically it boils down to nothing is permitted that could possibly be construed as "sexy" or "suggestive". Thus underwear, both bras and panties, are a definite requirement and that doesn't include thongs and lacy low-cut bras. Nothing strapless for sure and sleeveless tops and dresses are generally forbidden except at an occasional social event with the parents - and even then heavily frowned upon. Dresses are preferred for women over skirts and in either case the hem has to be below the knee. No plunging necklines and absolutely no cleavage is allowed to be on display, even when leaning over - or maybe I should say, especially when leaning over. That's understandable as I know every time I lean over to help one of the boys that his eyes go straight to my boobs, praying for even a brief glimpse of my bra-covered breasts. I could go on as the Code of Conduct Manual is quite thick but I think everyone should be getting the picture by now.

One good thing, if you can call it that, is that the public schools are at least a little less strict than the private Christian school where I worked at in the past. Dang, back then it was like we could've been mistaken for the cast of Little House on the Prairie! At least now I can show a LITTLE leg, LOL.

So much for the boring side of my closet. One point of interest now that I think about it... I've bought everything on that side. In comparison, the rest of my closet is filled with various outfits of which well over half have been bought by someone else. When I was younger that "someone else" was primarily my dad although my mom sometimes surprised me. While my father still enjoys giving me the occasional new outfit to model for him, these days my husband is the one bringing home the majority of the sexier outfits. It's a different world these days so unlike my father he doesn't have to visit the sex stores as he can do his shopping on-line. I guess that means in reality it's really the FedEx and UPS man doing the actually delivery but the principle remains the same.

As usual, my intentions were to go to church after seeing my dad which meant I needed to choose something that would catch people's eye but at the same time it couldn't be TOO inappropriate. After all, it WAS church so some modest version of decorum had to be observed. My mother may have raised a slut but I was a classy slut! I've always loved seeing the guys stare at me, even more so the older married men chained to their overweight wife and obnoxious kids. To have them do so in at church was even better than at the mall.

While I love seeing the look of desire in their eyes, in some ways I almost get more of a thrill from the reactions of their wives. Their looks of disdain, sometimes even to the point of disgust, tell me everything I want to know when it comes to the impact I'm having on their husbands. Not that it bothers me in the least. Hey, it's not MY fault they let themselves go after marriage to the point where their frustrated husband is looking at me instead of them.

Given it was forecasted to be a nice day in May I would have usually chosen a light sundress or something similar - something just inappropriate enough to get the men looking and the women clucking but not TOO inappropriate to where I would be subjected to yet another lecture from the church leadership. It has been years actually since my last little "discussion" with the elders at which we reached a truce when it came to my church attire. Still, no need to wake the sleeping dragon as at one point it got to where they threatened to ban me from church. Wow, my mother was SO furious! Like what church has the right to tell people they can't come, regardless of the reason?

Today though I wanted something special for my dad so I figured it was time to perhaps push the line just a little more than usual. I guess it's a sign of my maturity at the ripe old age of 28 that I wouldn't go flying over the line as I was prone to do when I was younger. Still I wanted something that would give my dad a special day to remember.

Pushing aside one outfit after another, suddenly I saw the perfect one... It was a strapless dress in the "peasant girl" style which my dad had bought for me years before when I'd just graduated from college and was living at home. These days it barely contained my larger boobs and definitely emphasized what I had on top without actually exposing anything TOO overtly. One of the things I'd always liked about it was how easy it was to just pull it down and over my boobs when I wanted to tease a guy.

The dress was more of a wrap than a skirt such that it came together at my right hip and overlapped just enough that when I was standing it didn't even look like there was a separation in the cloth. But then when I would sit or twist it would part to show off my upper thigh almost all the way up to my hip in some situations, depending on how I moved myself. I loved it because it had that element of surprise in that when a guy first saw it the assumption was it was relatively conservative but then with one crossing of my legs I practically exposed my entire leg!

Underneath I chose a simple black thong with a high hip cut so it wouldn't be seen no matter how I allowed my dress to part. I didn't have a bra suitable for such an outfit as my bras tended to be at one extreme or the other - ultra conservative and comfy for school or sexy and naughty for home. I was about to put on a new pair of peach colored high heels when I hesitated. Hmmmmmm, hose or not?

Now that I bring up the subject... I love the topic of panty hose when I chat as it's probably the one thing that most fakers aren't ready for. Most guys know the basics of women sizes when it comes to pants and tops but when asked for a pantyhose size they're stumped. After all, what guy ever buys it? When I ask someone who I suspect to be a fake what their pantyhose size is (usually after I've led up to the question after talking about lingerie and such) I typically get one of three responses:

1. "I don't wear any." Such a BS answer as EVERY woman knows their sizes regardless of whether or not they wear that particular item. Instant confirmation of a faker.

2. A wrong size - typically a pant size. Another instant confirmation.

3. Providing a legitimate size but only after a long delay tells me that he was smart enough to know he didn't know the answer so he looked it up on-line before getting back to me. Yep, another faker.

Ask any woman if she would wear pantyhose if she knew she would never be seen by anyone and I guarantee the answer. Like most women, I don't really LIKE pantyhose per se yet like most women, I DO like how they make my legs look, particularly when I don't have my summer tan going strong. Pasty white legs just don't go with an expensive new dress. Also, when it's frightfully cold outside they do offer at least a LITTLE bit of warmth, especially when wearing a short skirt.

Church and school are usually the only places I wear pantyhose with church being much more rare. Still, today I wanted to look my best so with a shrug I dropped the thong to my ankles, stepping out of it as I dug out a pair of nude pantyhose and pulled it on before dropping my dress over my head and tugging it over my boobs. Checking myself out in the mirror I couldn't help but smile as my legs DID look a lot better. It would unlikely draw a sigh of protest from my dad when I arrived at his house in just a few minutes but at the same time I think some guys are turned on more when they have to undress me before having sex. Granted, my dad isn't one of these guys - he would have me approach him nude every time if given the option but I doubted he would complain TOO much so long as they didn't stay on for long.

Fixing up my makeup and a touch of perfume, followed by selecting my favorite cross hanging on a gold chain, and I was ready to go. The cross was a birthday present from my dad. It was beautiful with diamonds lined all along it. At the time it was the most expensive piece of jewelry I'd ever worn except when my mom would let me try on some of hers - under her watchful eye the whole time of course. I love wearing it for special occasions with my dad and I hoped he noticed it and understood WHY I was wearing it.

I glanced over at the clock next to the bed and my heart skipped a bit... maybe even two, Damn! What had happened? It was like I'd just passed through some sort of time warp as it had seemed just moments ago that I had plenty of time but somehow or another I managed to have lost an hour. I quickly grabbed my purse and car keys and hustled out to my car without taking any more time than necessary - you try running in heels sometimes! Dang it, would I make it in time for him to fuck me and still get to church within a reasonable amount of tardiness?

Fortunately the police weren't out in force and I made it to my dad's house without getting what would've been a well-deserved citation. I parked on the street as I knew my dad would want to take his SUV to church and with a one-lane driveway it was just take that much more time for us to get to church while I moved my car out of the way. Hustling up to the door, I reached for the handle but the door almost magically opened just as I was about to pull.

"Cutting things a little close today, eh Kelly?" I heard my aunt from the other side of the door.

"Oh hi Aunt Linda," I responded as I glanced around, "Where's my dad?"

There was no sense in making small talk with my aunt when I was running so late already. Fortunately I knew she would understand and indeed after she closed the door behind me she turned and grinned as she pointed up the narrow staircase leading to the second floor.

"Upstairs?" I couldn't help but ask. It wasn't like I meant to question her but at the same time it just surprised me a little, especially being so late this morning.

"What can I say?" she shrugged, "He was getting all antsy down here and it was just a few minutes ago that he went up." She smiled somewhat naughtily and added, "Probably jerking off if I know the bastard."

She was just teasing so I just rolled my eyes and didn't reply. Then just as I turned to head upstairs she asked, "So where's your hunk of a husband Kelly? I was sort of hoping he might want a little MILF pussy this morning."

I giggled this time and replied with, "Hmmm, now who's the one who's really horny? Sorry, he's going to spend the day with his mom."

"Oh really?" she responded with a thoughtful look but I wasn't giving her time to get any more details - not that I had any to give anyway. My aunt swatted me playfully on the bottom and then grabbed my ass firmly in her hand as she gave me a gentle nudge up the stairs.

"You're a fuckin' tease, you know. Now you'd better get going smarty pants if you want to make it to church before the closing hymn."

Well, it wasn't going to take THAT long no matter what but still a good suggestion. I wiggled my butt in her hand for just a moment and then made my way quickly up the squeaky stairs. Back when I was a teen I knew the exact route that would avoid the worst of them but there was no reason to hide the fact I was coming this morning.