Saturday afternoon is a lazy day for me, but a day at the mall for my daughter, Cindy and her mom. Cindy is 18 and my wife is now 39. They are both the loves of my life. Cindy, a long legged blonde, is in her senior year at high school and is planning to go to a prestigious college up north in the fall. That is the reason why she and her mom were at the mall. Cindy was getting a clothing overhaul. She had nice clothes but my wife wanted her to be ready for school and a Saturday while school was still in session seemed like the best time to blow into the mall and spend some quality time together.
For me, this Saturday was going to be a day of quiet vegetation. I planned to watch a game of baseball on the tube, read up the garage, and maybe sneak in a jerk off session if the mood took me. My buddy who downloads porn like a madman gave me a disk full of college sweethearts in various cram sessions. I had perused it last night and found a video about a little blonde going door to door selling magazine subscriptions and finding nothing but perverts at every house. She steers clear of them but stops at a house where there is a kindly grandmother waiting for her. But to her surprise the grandmother turns out to be a man in drag. It looked funny and the blonde was hot as hell.
The baseball game I wanted to watch sucked, the New York Yankees always win and by the second inning they were up 7-0 on a pair of A-Rod and Sheffield homers. I turned it off and headed to the garage a little earlier than I had planned.
Now if you are like me, you store crap on top of crap. My garage is a maze of various things I think are too good for the trash but not worthy of being placed in the house. I have stuff that I have kept because it is of good quality that I swore10 odd years ago that I might need or might find a use for it someday. Of course that day never comes and in the meantime more useful crap comes along and gets stored right next to it. My head swooned as I looked out at the garage and I debated walking right back in the house and getting to that jerk off session.
Well, the responsible side of me won out and I went to the refrigerator we have out in the garage grabbed a beer and popped the top. With my first swig, I pushed the garage door opener and watched as the door climbed open and hoped nothing stored by it got caught on the door and busted the damn thing. Apparently, I still have some room for more crap as the door opened undeterred. I took another swig and turned on the radio I have on top of the water heater and tuned it to a classic rock station. I don't know any of the new music and only know of one station.
The station was playing blocks of music by various bands and telling the listeners some useless trivia about the members between songs. You know the kind of crap that when you were younger seemed so important but you could careless about now that you are paying bills and they are living in a mansion. "The lead guitarist of Spandex Thong has six fingers on each hand and believes it helps contribute to his ability to finger through the notes faster." Duh!
I spotted a box I didn't recognize and thought I'd investigate it before getting started. It was thrown on top of all the other stuff so I figured it had to be new. I set down my beer and opened it up. It was flap-closed. You know where you don't use tape but just fold over the flaps until they lock the top of box closed. I pulled in the middle and the box exploded. Apparently my wife or daughter had stuffed the box so full that it was ready to burst. Out of the box sprung clothing and as it flew by me and fell to the floor and on various boxes and furniture in the garage, I realized it was my wife and daughter's clothes. I noticed various undergarments that my wife had worn in the last few years as well as my daughter's. Trying to catch the clothes as they flew and minimize the amount I'd have to cleanup caused me to spill my beer.
I instinctively groaned, 'Crap' and heard my voice echo within the garage. I shook my head as I was now wasting time cleaning up new stuff to get to the old stuff. I went and got a shop towel and cleaned up the spilled beer. I thought about using the clothing but wanted to just stuff it all back in the box and not have to explain why my wife or daughter's clothing had found it's way in the dirty clothes, especially my daughter's panties.
I cleaned up the beer and got myself a new one. I popped it open and took a swig and began stuffing the clothes back in the box. How they ever got all the clothes in the box, I'll never know. I had a good 85-90% back in the box when I started noticing some of the articles and checked them out. Now I can't dress myself for crap but I know what I like in women's wear. My wife and I have played some dress up in our day and I was noticing some of the things I had bought her in the past. A red teddy with crotch-less panties caught my eye and I thought about putting it back in my wife's dresser. A slinky navy blue summer dress was next. I can remember quite a few afternoons when Cindy was at school and I would come home from lunch only to find my wife in pair of heels and the dress. When I explored further, I found her bra and pantiless and would bend her over the first piece of furniture I could find. I felt my cock stir at the thought of those moments. I was wearing only a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt now so my hard-on was free to rise.
I grabbed a tiger print thong and smiled. My wife used to purr when she had them on and that would be my signal to drop whatever I was doing and head upstairs to our bedroom. With them, I grabbed a few pairs of panties that must have belonged to my daughter, as I didn't recognize them. Guiltily, I glanced around to make sure no one was watching. It was silly, because anyone passing by would not be able to see a thing in our cluttered garage. I laid them out before putting them in the box and smiled. A baby blue pair had a big smiley face right where my daughter's tender mound would be looked back at me. The next pair was green and said 'Thursday' on them. I shook my head because I can remember when my wife gave them to Cindy and how she, then 15 was embarrassed when she opened them in front of our whole extended family. "One pair for every day of the week," her perverted uncle yelled.
There was a pair of black panties with a little pink pussycat peeking out of little furry box. I grinned at their double meaning, felt foolish, and stuffed them in the box. I saw a pair of white, cotton panties and picked them up with a smile. White cotton was as retro as you could get these days, I thought. With all the ladies wearing thongs of all styles or nothing at all, white cotton seemed like something out of the dark ages. I picked them up and flipped them over and noticed a set of cherries, like on slot machines in the front. I smiled again and felt my cock throb as I was getting heated up thinking about how the panties would look on my daughter and how I would love to help her wiggle out of them.
I fingered the panties and they felt a little stiff. I got a devilish grin on my face at the thought that Cindy had not washed them before putting them in the box. My cock hardened and I raised them to my face. Any panty-sniffing bandit will tell you sometimes a pair of freshly worn panties can be the next best thing to the real thing but beware. A pair of panties can sour and the smell can disgust even the most perverted SOB. I held them to my nose and smiled. The smell was tremendous. My daughter's tender crotch was delectable. I took a deep whiff and I envisioned me sniffing the front of a pair of panties she was wearing and slipping them off her. I savored the sweet odor and reached down with my other hand to rub my cock through the nylon fabric of my gym shorts.
Now in movies, when someone is surprised out of their mind, they play the sound of record album being scratched across a record needle. Well in real life it is pretty darn close to that except add to it the sound of fingers on a chalkboard and an internal and external blast of hellfire from embarrassment and shame on your facial cheeks.
"Hi, Mr. Jeter," a voice chimed from the front of my garage. I dropped the panties from my face and they slipped down along my body to the floor. They fell at rate about a thousand times too slow for my liking. My hand came off my cock and rested on a box in front of me. Unconsciously, I caught myself stroking the cardboard corner of the box and stopped myself. I looked to the large opening of the garage red-faced, wondering to whom I was going to owe a million dollars to.
There in the doorway was my daughter's 18-year-old friend, Tami. I blushed at my predicament but then my eyes went wide in relief. Tami was sitting atop her bike trying to shield her eyes from the bright sun in order to peer into the garage. She didn't see me but only a male figure in the garage. At least, I was pretty sure of that as she smiled and squinted.
"Hi Tami," I shouted, trying to appear nonchalant as I prayed for her to go away once I told her Cindy wasn't home.
"Hi Mr Jeter, is Cindy home?" she asked as she stood down on the ground between her handle bars and seat and moved the bike forward and backward nervously.
'You know Tami, she isn't. Her mom and her went shopping and she probably won't be home for a few hours," I said and thought of what a looker she was. Tami grew up down the street with her mom and worthless dad. Her mom was a gorgeous brunette who turned the heads of all the guys in the neighborhood. Tami was built just like her, about 5'1 or 5'2 and maybe 100 pounds. Both had jade eyes, were athletic and had tight little bodies and perky breasts. Tami's mom, Terri, was probably a D cup while Tami was most likely a B cup. Terri was still incredible looking and sort of a cult figure with the men around town. Her husband, Dan, was a cretin, gambler and a drunk. He had the finest ass in the world living under his roof and he would rather fuck things up downtown. He was about a quarter of a million in debt from gambling when he blew town and left Terri and Tami to fend for themselves.
Terri was resourceful and got a lot of odd jobs done around her place. We all joked that we knew how she got her new car, her new porch and her rent paid. She wasn't outwardly promiscuous but when the job or deal was done, the contractors or salesmen always went away happy.
I was hoping for Tami to leave but also for my cock to soften so it wouldn't be so noticeable. It was sticking up in all its glory, threatening to pop out of the top of my shorts. I smiled at the thought of my daughter's 18th birthday party. Tami was there and she had on this skimpy bikini and the fabric was so smooth that her bikini bottoms hung to the outline of her pussy. It wasn't so noticeable dry but when she got wet, the fabric clung to her puffy lips and the outline and her slit were evident for everyone to see. I beat off about ten times in the next five days thinking of her little swimsuit. The thought wasn't helping my cock problems nor was I getting rid of Tami.
"Oh that's alright," Tami quipped with a frown, "I'll call her later tonight." I smiled and then frowned as I tried to show some disappointment that Cindy wasn't home and waited for her to turn in the driveway and ride off on her bike. I felt foolish about the facial gestures because she probably couldn't even make them out. I waved goodbye and was surprised again.
"Oh, Mr Jeter, perhaps you can help me," Tami said, doing her best Detective Columbo imitation, pretending to leave and then coming back to say something else. I watched in amazement as she turned her bike around and began slowing maneuvering it into my garage. She didn't get off the bike and walk beside it but instead scooted with it between her legs. She was smiling as she pushed past an old couch and swung between a pair of standing lamps and a gumball machine. My garage was so cramped and cluttered but here she was acting like Moses and splitting the Red Sea. If you had told me she was going to try it, I wouldn't have believed it could be done.
As gorgeous as I thought Tami was, she probably couldn't look anymore beautiful then she did right then. She was wearing her long brunette hair in a single ponytail and had on a white fluffy cotton halter-top and short-shorts. They might have been tennis wear but she didn't look like she could move in them without spilling out. She had on sandals and her perfume was intoxicating.
I cursed myself for not showering this morning and hoped I didn't smell too offensive. I laughed to myself as I hoped the beer I spilled earlier would mask any funky odors. I pulled my t-shirt down at the bottom in hopes of hiding my hard on. I smiled and moved to the side so she could push her bike right up in front of me.
"How can I help you?" I stammered and when that didn't sound right coming out of my mouth, I added, "What do you need help with?" Both lines sounded dumb and I realized I was tongue-tied and felt like a high school boy asking a girl on a date for the first time.
Tami looked at me and there was an awkward silence as she seemed to be measuring me up. She smiled with a little twinkle in her eye and looked around us and I almost fainted when she saw my daughter's panties and the other clothing lying around. She seemed to be thinking about them then turned back to me and stated, "Its my bike, I haven't ridden it in ages and well it needs air, the seat wiggles, and it squeaks."
I smiled back at her and found myself lost in thought about what Tami thought about the panties and clothes. Rather than responding to her about her bike, I blurted out that I was spending the day reading up the 'whole' garage. I subconsciously slipped in 'whole' as a way of saying not just my daughter's panties box.
"Oh?" Tami said with a smile. She seemed perplexed by my answer and looked down at her bike as if to remind me that is why she was here.
I felt flustered but figured I could pull out of it as long as I focused on the bike. I looked down at the bike and could see that the front tire was indeed low on air pressure. My eyes swung to the back tire but with her standing right in front of me with the bike pointed long ways toward me, I had to look at her and more importantly her waist and legs. I stopped there as my eyes caught sight of her shorts and how they hugged her tiny waist. Looking down, I noticed how the shorts clung to her crotch and rode up her legs. Like her bikini bottoms, the shorts barely covered her mound and their tightness left little to the imagination. I could almost make out the folds of her pussy lips as I noticed the image on her panties beneath her shorts. My eyes aren't like Superman's but her shorts were that thin and sheer. I could pleasantly make out the faint outline of a devil's face and smiled.
'Mr. Jeter?" Tami asked and shook me from my wet dream.
"Yeah, the front tire needs air," I said authoritatively and glanced around her now. She watched me and leaned the opposite way so I could get a better look-see. As she did this, she spun her arm behind her and I could see down the front of her. Her young breasts were definitely budding C cups and her cleavage looked so inviting.
"The back tire is almost flat," I chimed as I traded glances at the tire, her chest and her face.
Tami's eyes went wide and though she didn't say it, I could read her little mind, "Yeeaaah like, that's what I just told you." She smiled instead and ran her little tongue across her lips to moisten them. She was either wearing a thin layer of lipstick or she had the reddest lips I have ever seen.
"Well, I can fix your tires no problem," I proudly said. "Where does it squeak?" I asked looking down at the small patch of area where her shorts covered her little twat.
Tami frowned and said, "It just squeaks."
"Hunh, do the tires squeak? Or the chain?" I asked wanting to pin point the problem area.
Again Tami was perplexed and thinking she started to point to areas she thought it might be squeaking from. As she did, she bent and stretched and pointed to various parts of the bike. I wasn't listening but watching carefully as she bent over and showed me her cleavage again and stuck out and up her lightly covered ass. My cock was alive again and stiffened, watching this nubile teenager.
Tami straightened up as she finished and asked me quizzically, "Does that help?"
I nodded and shrugged my shoulders. I figured I would oil all the areas anyhow so we would probably fix it one way or the other.
"Now didn't you say your seat wiggled?" I asked and caught myself from laughing. If I had said it to my wife or an older woman I was flirting with, she would have got the pun but Tami just looked at me straight faced and nodded.
What happened next would go down in the archives of my life as one of my most sensational moments. Without prompting, Tami lifted herself up on to her bicycle seat and wiggled her little ass on it, causing it to wiggle back and forth. My eyes were transfixed on the outline of her young pussy as she gently gyrated on the nylon-covered seat. My cock throbbed and I smiled as I watched for an agonizing five or six seconds as she looked down between her legs at the seat. She wiggled her loose bike seat up and down and then from side to side.
"Wow, your seat does wiggle," I said and became a little emboldened by Tami's naiveté.
She smiled and nodded, and almost knocked me to the floor, "Yeah, it hasn't been worked on for a while." I suppressed a laugh and looked away to catch my composure. She had me about to explode in more ways than one and I needed to focus. My cock was sticking straight up in my shorts but I had the fact that they were black, my shirt was pulled down over it, and we were facing each other to thank for her not noticing, yet. I was afraid to turn sideways for fear of her noticing the bulge. I didn't dare reach down to cover it or her eyes might follow.
"Well you are in luck," I said changing the subject. "I can fix your seat and all those things for two gazillion dollars," I joked as I didn't know what to say to seem cool and nonchalant so I figured if I was goofy maybe she wouldn't notice how worked up I was. "Oh I can't pay you today," Tami started and then the amount registered. She giggled and grinned at her stupidity. "Just two gazillion, that sounds cheap," she played along and we shared a laugh and a smile.
"Let's take care of the air pressure, first" I said and backed up towards my compressor. I didn't want to turn sideways to reveal my bulge and Tami's cute little eyes watched me. She looked me up and down and I felt uneasy. If she noticed I had this big hard on, she might blab it to the neighborhood so I tried to get her attention on something else.
"Do you know what pressure your tires take?" I asked, as I turned quickly and picked up the hose.
"No, I wouldn't know about that," Tami said and glanced down at her tires as if it might be written on the treads.
"If you get off your bike for a second and read the side of tire, it usually says the PSI," I told her and moved back towards her.
Tami stepped off her bike and bent down beside the front tire. As she did she was facing me and I watched as she crouched down, her little shorts riding up between her soft, tender legs and revealed more and more of the outline of her tight little pussy lips. She definitely wasn't modest as her young legs bowed out and her knees almost pointed in opposite directions, giving me more than ample view of one of her sweetest assets.
I stepped up in front of her and my eyes got a wonderful view down her little top and at her soft round orbs. I moved my thumb to the adaptor and tested it for pressure and the air shot at my face. Playfully, I shot the second test of air at the top of Tami's head and she was caught unaware as the air parted her hair. She wiggled in her sandals and almost fell backwards.