Dad's The Man Ch. 01

"It's okay, I-I'm sorry,..."

"Hey, are you alright?" she asked as I went to move around her.

"Wha-? Um, yeah, I just,..."

And that's when I froze up, involuntarily looking at the front window of the sex shop and turning beet red. It was awful.

" ... Ohhhh, I get it. You're too nervous to go in, right? ... Well,... Look, as long as you're old enough, I'll get you what you need. Why don't you show me your ID, tell me what you want, then meet me at Tim's, on the corner there?"

" ... I,... Um, really?"

Her smile became warmer and she nodded her head. I couldn't believe it. I walked closer, eying the black haired, slightly Goth looking beauty as I dug my little wallet out of my inside pocket. Opening it up, I removed my driver's license with my picture on it and showed it to her, she obviously thinking I was passing it to her as she took it out of my hand and scanned it closely for a few seconds.

"Well, eighteen year old Kathleen Hale, if this is good enough for the cops, it's good enough for me," she said, handing it back. "My name's Gina, by the way. Gina Green. Now, what would be your pleasure in there?"

"Uhh, oh, god, this is so embarrassing!"

"It's no biggie, just tell me."

"Well, I need- want- I mean,... Shit."

"You can't shock me, Kathleen."

"I want a dildo." I said in a low voice. "One with ribs, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I dunno, I just heard,..."

"Let me ask you a personal question here: I'm thinking you're not a virgin?" she inquired, dropping her voice for me.

" ... No, but I only did it the once."

"Alright,... Do you want one that vibrates?"

"Uh, no. It has to be quiet."

"I understand. Alright, just go on down to the corner and I'll see you there in about fifteen minutes."

"Wait, here's my money. I have sixty seven dollars and fifty-"

"We'll do that over coffee, see you there."

With that, she turned around and went right inside without another word, turning and winking at me, much like Daddy might, just before the door closed behind her.

She walked into Tim's almost twenty minutes later, spotting me sitting by myself in the sparsely populated diner with two cups of coffee, the fixings on the side for her.

"Hi, I got it. Oh, it's still hot."

"I waited fifteen minutes before I ordered," I nervously replied, feeling like I was doing some kind of drug deal.

"Great, thanks. I love my coffee nice and hot," she said as she went about preparing it for herself.

"Sooo,... how much do I owe you?" I tentatively asked.

"Twenty-five bucks."

I got my little purse out again and counted out the amount, pushing it across the table at her while eying the bag with the sex shop's logo on it.

"Thanks. It's in the bag, go ahead."

I hesitated, then slowly reached out and dragged the bag closer. Looking in, all I could see was sexy lingerie, mostly bra and panty sets that would leave very little to the imagination. I glanced at her as she took a careful sip of her coffee, unaware of my new dilemma. Not wanting to embarrass myself any further, I reached in, my fingers digging through all the lacey under things until I felt a long, plastic package, the kind Daddy curses and swears about trying to get open. I peeked inside as I pulled it to the top of the bag for a quick glance. It was pink and it looked pretty long with bulging ribs.

I unbuttoned my jacket and quickly transferred it from the bag to the wide, deep inside pocket, looking around timidly to see if anyone saw. Looking back at Gina, I found her regarding me with a smile.

"Your parents Pentecostal, or something?"

"What? No, why?"

"Heh. Nothing. Well, my parents were and I guess you just remind me a little,... So, you're always like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know,... Paranoid and nervous. Like you'd be a lot happier if you could make yourself invisible."

"Um, no. I mean not usually like this, it was just the,... you know," I said, looking at the bag of sexy lingerie, suddenly wondering about that.

"You grow up here, in town?" she asked, taking another sip of her hot coffee.

"Yes," I said. "Did you?"

"Nah, I'm from Prince Albert, I just ended up here. Got a boyfriend?"

"No."

"Pretty little thing like you? No way."

I shrugged, smiling and again blushing at her compliment.

"Well, I don't know your parents but, if they have any sense, they'd be happier you chose to get your new little friend there, rather than go out taking care of things the good old fashioned way."

This had never occurred to me.

"I guess you're right. I only got it to,... well, I,..."

"You needed it. Like you first said."

I only nodded to this.

"You know, when I first saw you, I thought you were some teenage boy trying to work up the courage to go in and rent a movie with his older brother's ID."

I couldn't help but smile at this, looking down and taking a sip of my coffee.

"Why didn't you just get one of your friends to go in for you? There's always one girl in the group that will dare almost anything."

"I, well,... no. I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"They,... I mean, I don't hang out, so,..."

" ... I see," she said with one eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"I cleared my throat and uncomfortably sipped at my coffee again, looking across the small dining area and hoping she'd just drop it.

"You don't talk a lot at all, do you?"

"I don't know. I guess not," I answered, looking at her again.

She eyed me closely then, even while wearing the same carefree, friendly expression, before she asked, "You don't like boys, do you?"

That really took me by surprise. I goggled, stammering, "I- well they're- I mean not like that, I just-"

"Just calm down and say it."

" ... Boys are,... retarded, immature idiots. I was hoping I could get with a guy who's,... I don't know, not a boy."

"Oh. Well, I hate to tell you this, Kathleen, but that's something that never goes away in them."

"No, I mean a different kind of guy. Someone who just isn't like that."

"I've heard of him. I believe his name is Mr. Fantasy, currently residing in the fabulous Republic of Fantasy Land. Sorry, I shouldn't talk like that. I'm not making fun, I'm just adding my two cents. Whatever."

"It's alright."

" ... You like the stuff I got?"

I smiled shyly and nodded, glancing at the bag and then at the floor.

"Oh, there you go, back to non verbal communication," she said with a playful expression.

I laughed nervously, the kind of laugh that's not loud, more of a giggle, and goes on a bit longer than I'd prefer.

"Oh, shit, the time," Gina said after looking at her watch. "I gotta dash,..."

She dumped my twenty-five Dollars into her purse, then quickly located a pen and notepad from within. Scribbling something on it, she tore off the square piece of paper and handed it to me, explaining while standing and buttoning her coat up again.

"Gimmie a call if you need anything else. I owe you a coffee, now."

" ... Thank you."

"No prob," she assured, putting the cover on her coffee and picking up the bag.

"It was really nice meeting you, Gina. Thanks a lot for helping me, I really appreciate it."

She was about to speak, but did a double take at me, then opened her bag to root around in there for a moment before tossing something on a small hanger to the tabletop in front of me. It was what amounted to four small, bright yellow triangles with tiny yellow string attached to the corners. The cotton was so light and thin that I could just barely make out the straps behind one of the triangles.

"It's really not my colour," she said, picking up her coffee, turning to leave. "See ya, Kathleen, thanks for the coffee."

I was stunned. I wanted to say goodbye again, but I couldn't get over what had just happened. I picked the hanger up, holding it in front of my face to take a closer look as she was going through the nearby door.

Suddenly, I noticed some greasy looking guy staring at me while I inspected the bra and panty set, his jaw a little slack like mine was. I turned red again and quickly stuffed the hanger with its almost nonexistent burden into my jacket along with the vibrator.

I got out of there, taking my coffee with me, and got back home, safe and sound with my dildo, and guess what!? It's a flexible, 'super silent' vibrator!

I like Gina, she's cool.

Sept. 12/08

I didn't have the nerve to do anything last night. By the time I got the house cleaned, I had to go pick up Daddy at the plant and, once he got home, I sort of couldn't. It's weird because it's not like I don't masturbate with him in the house, but using the dildo seemed somehow different.

Mind you, he never comes into my room without knocking and waiting for me to say that it's okay first, the lock on my bedroom door being just a fixture, but I decided to wait for today because I knew I'd have plenty of time with him at work until I go to pick him up.

So, I'm in my room, (door locked anyway) curtains closed, all shaved down there, wearing only the bra and panty set that Gina gave me. When I first put it on, I could only stare at myself in the full length mirror mounted to my bedroom door. I can't believe how this looks on me! Oh, my god!

My nipples are well covered by the little yellow triangles, nothing else. But best of all, I can just see them through the material and they're so hard right now! The panties barely cover miffy, but the little triangle in back and near the top of my bum doesn't really cover anything at all.

I've never seen myself like this before, I look so different and I love this! I look so slutty!! I'm so wet. I've been sitting here at my desk, playing with my nipples for the last two minutes. I'm so horny! I'm going to get on my bed and play with my vibrator now.

Okay, it's later, bed time and I just couldn't leave this for tomorrow night.

I crawled up on my bed, grabbing the vibrator from my nightstand, but I just put it on the bed with me at first. Noticing myself in the mirror, I looked for a few seconds before raising my hands to my boobs, still watching every move I made like it really was someone else.

Touching them lightly, softly moving them around, I took my good old time getting to my nipples, rubbing over them slowly with the palms of my hands when I did. I squeezed them a little harder, pushed up on them and let them fall, watching how the 'bra' caught them.

I started playing with my nipples more, breathing heavier and parting my knees on the mattress further. I was soon pinching them, closing my eyes to imagine that some man was doing it for me, opening them again to look in the mirror and enjoy what a little slut I was being.

My fingers slipped beneath one of the triangles and rolled my nipple between them, squeezing and pulling as though I was trying to milk myself, sighing out loud as my other hand caressed my belly, dipping further to feel the smooth shave just above the top of my panties.

I loved how they felt against my hairless skin and tugged around at them to feel it more, the light cotton stroking miffy's wet lips and making me moan quietly. I spread my thighs even further as my boob freed itself from the small modesty of the yellow triangle, my playing fingers at fault in the matter. The feel of my own fingers stroking that very narrow place between the tops of my legs and my puffy, wet, cotton covered lips started me moaning softly.

Abandoning my boob, I put my other hand down there, too, gently rubbing miffy with both hands now, breathing even heavier, louder, my low moans more frequent and intense. I rubbed harder, slowly pulling up on the yellow triangle, tightening it against myself as I pressed my fingers even harder.

I'd soaked through my panties and I felt my other boob slipping free without the tension the other provided to the garment. After a minute or so of this, I could wait no longer. I fell backwards, sitting on the mattress with my knees bent, legs spread in front of me so I could rub my clitoris while I softly pinched my full lips, crying out a little at what this did for me.

I was actually on my way to an orgasm when I remembered the dildo. In a bit of a state, I took my attention from the excitingly slutty girl in the mirror to my new friend. I grabbed it and took a look at its translucent, ribbed length, the workings inside barely visible as a darker pink blur, before touching it to miffy's lips.

I rubbed it around a little, then on my clitoris, wondering if a real cock would feel different. Turning it on, I touched the suddenly vibrating, forbidden implement to my button and cried out again, sharper this time. I played some more, moaning still louder, before I turned the speed all the way up and poked it down the front of my panties, rubbing my clit with it until I started getting close again.

Lying on my back, I slowly pushed my underwear down my legs with my pelvis in the air until they cleared my hips and knees. Moving myself to my previous position, the yellow scrap around my ankles, I spread my thighs again and wasted no time bringing the artificial cockhead to my lips, going to slowly push it in.

I was surprised to find that it seemed too big. I tried again, but it was no good. Quite disappointed, I took it away and placed a trembling finger there instead, slipping it inside myself as I blinked rapidly to the pleasure. I continued to fuck myself with my middle finger, running it in and out of my soaked miffy, groaning and bucking into my hand.

I happened to catch a look at myself in the mirror, then. There I was, fingering myself to an orgasm with one hand, a vibrator I couldn't handle held close by in my other, boobies swinging free of their triangles, now twisted between them.

An orgasm that I couldn't resist, no matter what, rushed up at me. I pressed the disappointing gadget to my clitoris again and started rubbing, watching myself in the mirror before soon cumming with short, loud high pitched wails that I'm yet afraid the neighbors may have heard. Still, it was sooo good. I have to get some more sexy underwear as soon as I get a job.

I didn't want to push it, so I cleaned up and took a shower, got dressed and grabbed the keys to the truck. I screwed up enough nerve to go to a paving company that did snow removal during the winter to look for a seasonal job, hoping to be able to stay on through the summer as flag-girl or something, but they don't hire girls for manual labour. The guy who came out to the gatehouse told me to come back in early spring for a job as flag-girl, guaranteeing he'd hire me on the spot.

Despite this, I was still in a pretty good mood when I picked up Daddy.

Sept. 18/08

Not much happened today. I didn't have any job interviews, so I went around putting applications in for half the day and picked up Daddy at the plant afterward.

I love how he's happy to climb into the passenger side and let me drive instead of me having to let him take the wheel in front of everyone. He even sits there with his eyes closed, the back of his head leaning against the rounded, inside corner of the cab where an old, brown winter jacket hangs on the hook. It's funny how he does that and, during red lights, I often look at him there with his lunchbox in his lap. I can't tell if he's sleeping, but I think not.

I helped him with the truck after supper, climbing underneath it in the garage and greasing the front end, the U-joints and everything, like he taught me years ago. He handled the winter tire change, telling me how most everything the mighty General Motors ever built after nineteen-eighty-nine is pure and unadulterated shit and what a huge disappointment they are.

During a lull in his oration, I jumped in with a question. Times like this are good for questions, because he's usually in a talkative mood when we work, however, I get the feeling that this isn't the case when he's at the plant.

"Daddy, do you have any pictures of her? Sheila, I mean?"

There was the sound of metal against metal as he heaved one of the heavy, steel rims with an aggressive snow tire to the drum. He said nothing while he got the lugs started and I paused with the grease gun, tipping my head back on the cold concrete to look at him.

He finally said, "Yeah. I got some. ... 'Sheila'?'"

"She wasn't my mother. Mothers don't run off, she's just Sheila."

"Can't fault you there. But, you're curious about her."

" ... Yeah. It's okay, isn't it? I don't want to be upsetting-"

"No, you got a right to know. Anyone would want to and it isn't as if I'm gonna be around to tell you forever."

"Daddy, don't say stuff like that. You know I hate it."

"It's an eventuality you'll have to deal with, kitten."

"No, I don't. You're gonna live forever."

"Why don't we change the subject? You're starting to depress me. No, don't feel bad for asking about her. I don't think about it anymore and it was a long time ago, it doesn't bother me that much."

"Did she want sex a lot?" I asked.

" ... Geez, you really jump in there with the big ones, don't you?"

"Sorry, Daddy."

"S'okay. Yes, she did want sex a lot. In fact, she couldn't get her mind out from between her own legs and that was most of her problem, right there."

I noted how that sounded familiar.

"So, she was,... you know."

"No, what?"

" ... Kinky?"

He laughed sarcastically, but answered, "Depends on your definition of 'kinky', I guess, but in my opinion? Yeah, I'd say she was a bit kinky. Maybe more than a bit and no, I'm not mentioning anything specific."

"Did she have a good sense of humour?" I asked, backing away from that area now that I'd learned what I needed to know.

"More or less. As long as it was somewhat easy. She wasn't what you'd call an intellectual in that sense," he answered, grabbing the three quarter inch power bar and impact socket to snug the lugs. "She was smart, like I say, just not in that sense. More like the way a salesman is smart. A conniver, manipulator."

I moved to the front U-joint, cleaning the nipple with a rag before fitting the gun's hose to it and said, "It's hard to believe you could be manipulated by anyone."

"In this life, everyone gets to be young and stupid for a little while."

"But,... How come you never went and found someone else, another woman?"

"Well, I had other responsibilities then. It wasn't just me anymore and there was never time, or opportunity. Plus, I saw the scene for what it was and I didn't want you seeing an endless train of dirtbag floosies in and out of our home, pretending to be your mother when they cared enough, or when it paid off for them."

"It's not too late. You have time now."

"Maybe next year," he answered drily, walking around to the other side of the truck, me shifting on my back so I could see him at the other wheel as he added, "Anyway, we who'll live forever have that luxury of time, don't we?"

"Oh, boy!"

He stuck me with the cleanup later while he went in to wash up and make us a snack, and I thought about the things he said as I cleaned the tools and put them away. His life seems pretty crappy, the way he's living it.

Just before he turned in for the night, he put a pile of several photographs on the end table beside where I sat on the couch, covered with a blanket and watching TV in my pajamas.

"They're yours. G'night, kitten."

He leaned down and, as always, I reached up and put my arms around his neck to hug him, giving him a 'nightie-night' kiss on the cheek as his arms went under mine and around my back in that way that always makes me feel so safe. He kissed my cheek.

"Night, Daddy. Thanks for the pictures. Are you sure you don't want them back?"

"Nah. You keep em."

My jaw sagged when I looked at the very first picture. I look just like her, the only real difference being my younger age and her blonde hair. It was incredible to see her, especially like that and, leaning further under the lamp on the end table, I looked closer and guess what? I can see it, the things Aunt Peggy and Daddy told me about her. Beneath the face that looks so shockingly like mine, if you look beyond her happy expression, it's there, especially in her eyes. I can see it.