Dishes

Natalie was as wet between the thighs as the sponge she slid across the dish. She had long associated washing dishes with sex and sex was something she enjoyed more than making love. Before the first time with her father, the men she happened to find herself undressed with had needed time, romance, and a bed. Those were all things she never needed. For her, she was always ready to race though a series fast orgasms and her father was that kind of man. She had just finished talking to him on the phone.

The roar of the motorcycle, an Indian he loved to tell her, made her heart race. The noise faded and the back screen door of her old farmhouse slammed. As heavy boots clumped across the porch with the peeling paint and then across the uneven vinyl flooring of the room, she tossed her light blue panties on the counter atop the cold waffle iron.

She could tell he was behind her. "Hey Daddy," she called without turning around as her hands continued to clean dish after dish. Dressed only in an unbuttoned man's white dress shirt and black stiletto high heels, she leaned forward and thrust her hips back at him. "Have you come to see your little girl?"

His large warm hands covered her breasts and rolled them around as he inserted himself into the warm soft wet pink opening from behind. "Oh Daddy, what are you doing to your baby girl? No Daddy, don't do that." He knew she was teasing and they both enjoyed the game.

She leaned across the dirty stoneware dishes piled in the sink and held tightly onto the faucets. Her back sharply arched, her firm hips exposed, he repeatedly slammed his thighs against her buttocks. Other than occasional vulgar expressions about body parts, he was mostly silent. She groaned and moaned loudly. Had neighbors been within five miles, they would have heard. He loved to hear her. She loved all the nasty words.

He groaned and slammed himself into her one last time before stopping.

She turned; her shirt and chest now soaked with dishwater. Suds covered the left breast. She pulled him close and drove her tongue deep into his mouth.

He lifted her and let her slide slowly along his cock until she consumed it all. "Ah-h, Daddy-y," she cooed around his tongue letting her warm breath blow down into his throat.

His hands held her hips tightly and she wrapped her long shapely legs around his waist. One shoe fell with a soft clump onto the floor. "You're the best Daddy," she yelled as he worked her willowy body up and down.

--

Behind the house, barefoot and now without even the shirt on, she waved to him as he rode the Indian along the rutted drive around the slight bend by the oak. She could hear the reverberations of the exhaust off the side of the farmhouse slightly over the beat of her heart. Soon, only silence could be heard as she let the screen door slam behind her.

Their mingled fluids drained along the top of her thigh as she walked casually to the small bathroom off the kitchen. She stood in front of the white pedestal sink and modeled for herself. "Da-amn Daddy, how can-n you resist?" she told herself aloud in a long soft southern drawl. Her hands cupped her breasts as his hands had and then massaged them both. "You can't," she groaned. "I can't," she added, this time softer and almost only to herself.

Steam from the showerhead filled the room above the shower. The small aluminum framed frosted glass shower door clicked once as she opened it and again as she closed it. She rubbed the bar of Ivory Soap across her thirty year-old skin, her body still slim, still most feminine. "Oh Daddy, you are-e the best." She enjoyed the soft feel of the suds, so different from his coarse thick hands. The bar, and then her hand against slipped between her legs. "Daddy...." She watched as their juices mixed with the water and spiraled down the drain. "Till next time," she said with a wave.

--

The letter lay beside Natalie on the seat of old multi-colored Ford stepside pickup as she drove along Highway 12 towards Bald Peak. The forest gradually thinned and the landscape slowly changed. There were patches of snow even though it was late March.

A wayward glance at the inaccurate gas gauge with the needle well below empty snapped her out of a near trance. "Shit!" she scolded herself aloud for not stopping before now. In the middle of nowhere and with little gas, she became quite concerned.

Miles ahead around one of many curves near the crest, a dilapidated grocery store with one pump appeared. She pulled to the side of the road, and fastened her jeans and buttoned her sweater.

"Hello missy," the older man said as he watched her shove the nozzle into the filler hole. "Ya need some help? Good thing I'm here; ain't nothin' for fifty more miles."

It was obvious he was undressing her in his mind. She took a deep breath and her chest swelled making her bare breasts press even more firmly against the sweater and out where the top several buttons were not fastened. Part of a nipple struggled to be exposed.

"My, my," he drawled. "Don't see such nice things around here much."

She glanced in his direction and watched him crudely rub his crotch. "Off to see my uncle," she tersely said as she flipped her hair with the free hand before touching the almost exposed nipple and then adjusting her blouse. She continued to watch his hand over his crotch as she held the nozzle tight against the hole in the truck.

The nozzle clicked off and she handed him two twenties. "What'cha got there?" She paused, her tongue resting on her lip. A finger fiddled with the button on her jeans. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours. No touching." She watched him rub his crotch and she rubbed hers.

There were only two cars beside the store and they appeared to have not moved in years. "No one inside," he groaned. "Ain't had such a good offer. My wife died years ago." He became silent as he watched her.

"How about out here?" she asked as a lone big rig roared past on the road. "I love the risk of being caught." She began unzipping her jeans and unbuttoning the sweater, not removing them, but revealing the lack of undergarments. "I just fastened them before stopping," she groaned as though she were tired of dressing and undressing so often.

His prick popped from the open zipper in his khaki workpants. He stroked it. He watched her fingers disappear inside her. He grunted and began spurt and dribble. She took several deep breaths as she quickly finished and then watched him shake his prick.

"Any time you need a fill up." He watched her waddle to the other side of the truck with her jeans still around her upper legs. "Nice ass missy."

--

She pulled back onto the road and Natalie watched in the mirror as he dragged a paper towel across the now flaccid member and then fasten his pants. "Made his day," she whispered aloud. "Mine too I guess." Her clothes sill unfastened and disheveled, she reached over and fingered the letter. "Mark...." she said in a husky voice.

Highway 12 headed south past the summit of Bald Peak and an hour later, the forest reappeared. "Stinson" the sign read above the lone large rusted mailbox. She turned off the pavement and the dust of the gravel road began to cloud everything behind the pickup. Rocks pounded the underside of the fenders and she gripped the wheel slightly tighter. "Don't remember it being so...." Suddenly the faded beige doublewide trailer and the large white steel shop building appeared.

As she stopped next to the Mustang in the wide dirt parking area, the sound of a John Deere tractor filled the cab of her pickup. "Ah-h," she moaned aloud as she fastened her clothes.

Natalie stood at the edge of the field, her hands shoved deeply in both pockets. The tractor turned at the end of one row and began making the next furrow towards her. Mark waved as he saw her, though it would be a while until he reached the end of the row. Eventually the tractor became silent.

"Hey niece. Had a hard time waiting 'till I could stop."

"Hey uncle. I see what you mean." She dragged her hand over the bulge in his dusty jeans and then cupped her fingers around it. I was hoping it would be like this." Without further discussion, she began to undress.

She stood naked and barefoot. "Before I do anything, I gotta piss."

"Like old times," he replied, as he stood undressed beside her, a foot touching hers as they spread their legs wide. The yellow stream fell in front of them and for each, stopped about the same time.

She shook her crotched. "Ah-h," she said with a throaty groan. She wiped her fingers though the folds of piss covered flesh and then flicked them dry.

"Done like a guy ... nice," he said.

"You and Dad taught me well." She laughed and walked a few steps before lying down in a small patch of short and green lawn grass. "Should I get my stilettos out?"

His head rocked side to side, "Nope. You are-e dressed just perfect little one." The erection, now recovered from the piss, bobbed slightly as he moved towards her.

She lay with her knees bent and spread wide. "Oh uncle, what are you going to do?" she cooed aloud. "Don't hurt me with that."

He laughed. "Perhaps you'd like to sit over my lips," he said as he stood between her knees, staring at her. "Fucking fine cunt you've got."

"Baby, you know what I like," she said in a soft sultry voice as she arranged herself so she hovered slightly above his face facing his feet. "I'm watching, making sure it stays up," she told him and then giggled.

His tongue dragged through the parting skin from back to front and across the swollen clit.

"Ah-h," she wailed and shivered. "Again," she begged as she dropped along his chest and licked his waiting cock. It wiggled and bounced against her tongue as she lightly dragged her tongue towards the head. "Haven't seen anything so nice ... for a while," she murmured as she studied the color of the head. "Ah-h," she moaned as his tongue again reached her clit. Back and forth, they each rubbed their tongues over the needed places and making the sounds that let the other know how good it felt.

"In or out?" he questioned.

"Yeah, I can tell," she replied, her mouth soon covering the quivering shaft to catch the rushing fluid. The excess dribbled from the corner of her mouth and her lips touched the far end before sliding slowly back up and away.

Lying on her stomach, the left side of her face resting on her folded hands, Natalie lifted and wiggled her hips. "Got anything left?" The hips wiggled again and he did not miss the offer. She could feel him lifting her hips and begin to enter. "The pussy," she yelped and he repositioned himself. "Better," she cooed as he filled her from the rear.

"Do you need some dishes to wash?" he teased.

"You and Dad, brothers to a tee," she kidded. "Did you and Mom ever...." She paused to savor the next thrust and the one after it.

"Yeah," he groaned. "He did Alice too."

She arched her back slightly more letting him fill her more completely. "Mom's sister? Who'd ever thought?" He slammed hard against her hips. "Oh-h, yeah-h." She wiggled her hips slightly and squeezed.

"She was good, not as good as your Mom." She could feel the pulsing and then the firm streams hitting far inside her. "Almost done," he groaned.

"Me too," she said in a deep groan that matched his.

With her clothes bundled under her arm, she leaned against the warm fender of her truck. A foot rested on the bumper. "Did Mom and Alice ever ... nah, I doubt it." Her head swung side to side.

"Actually...." he began, but didn't finish knowing she got the drift of his thought.

Natalie continued moving her head, "Wow, I can almost see them."

He watched her knee sway slightly as her leg exposed herself and then covered herself. "Damn, did you drive all this way for a single roll in the grass? You're driving me crazy standing there like that." Equally as undressed as her, he rubbed his hand along the top of his shaft. "I've got some dishes to wash," he teased. She followed him into the house.

--

Natalie leaned against the frame of the back porch screen door and looked towards the small pond. The day was warm as she relived both the visit with her uncle and the last visit from her father. She flipped her long brown hair and twisted it around her hand. The only thing she wore were her black stiletto high heels, after all, there were no neighbors to see her. The other hand alternated between twisting a nipple and rolling her clit between the thumb and forefinger. An occasional moan escaped her lips from the idle play. She ignored the ringing phone and strolled away from the house letting the rays of the sun warm her tanned skin. A finger or two danced between her thighs every few steps.

The small pier extended past the bank of the pond and she carried her stilettos rather than risk having the heels stick between the planks. The soft patter of her bare feet was the only sound. First standing at the end, and then sitting, and then reclining, she watched nothing in particular. She resumed the strumming of the parts between her legs. The roar of the Indian soon interrupted gentle moans floating across the pond.

By the time he joined her on the pier, her father was undressed. "How was your visit with Mark?"

His hand slipped along the inside of her thigh as her legs began to part. The first finger grazed tender places and she gasped before a soft moan. "My fingers have been there quite a bit this morning," she offered spreading her thighs even more.

"We don't have...."

Before he finished, she pressed his hand firmly against her. She groaned, "Oh yes ... we do. I am never too sore for my Daddy."

They strolled away from the pond towards a shady patch of grass under several trees. He held her hand and she carried her stilettos. "I thought about you while ... ah, I was with Uncle Mark."

He paused and pulled her close for a deep kiss. His erection pressed between her thighs and rubbed against places his fingers had just been.

"Horny devil," she teased as she wiggled until he rested just inside her. "Daddy, Daddy...."

His tongue played with hers. His hand rested atop a nipple and massaged the breast in large circles. "I never get enough of you."

She pulled him towards the shade and then onto the grass. "I might need to go back to see him." She settled her father between her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He filled her with no struggle. "Ah-h, go Daddy." Her hips lift slightly and he reentered again ... and again.

Finished, she rolled him over and cleaned the lingering erection with her lips. "I love the taste of myself on your cock. How did-d I get so lucky? Stay a while today."

He watched her mouth again fill with him. "Can't," he tersely replied. "Your Mom has plans for me." Her mouth filled with him repeatedly.

She glanced towards his face and a frown formed. "Oh-h-h. Please stay."

Again as before, and as she knew she would in the future, she stood naked in the back of the house and watched the Indian roar along the rutted drive, around the slight bend near the oak, and silence swept over her. "Still a good fuck," she murmured aloud as she reached for the rusted handle of the screen door. "Maybe I will-l-l go visit Uncle Mark again soon. What would it be like to be with both of them? Maybe a family reunion."

--

Spring progressed towards summer. Natalie finished writing her seventh book and sent the manuscript to the publisher for editing. It was Memorial Day weekend and her mother, and her mother's sister Alice, offered to bring a bucket of chicken and some beer over to celebrate while her father rode his Indian with fellow bikers.

They sat in the shade of the oak tree with the remains of the picnic scattered about them. As the effects of the beer began to relax each woman, they enjoyed the soft breeze off the pond. Alice's head lay in her sister's lap. Gloria ran her fingers though Alice's hair while Natalie reclined with one leg bent slightly at the knee revealing more of her body than she might have realized.

"Is it another pulse racing novel?" Gloria asked.

"Tell us about the story," Alice said watching Natalie's knee waver as it continued to expose tender places.

"Yeah-h," Gloria added.

Though she had always like both women, today Natalie found she enjoyed their company even more. Her hand stroked her upper thigh casually. "This one is about a family that is much closer than most families." Natalie could feel the growing excitement at the top of her thigh as she merely thought about the story and whom she was telling about it.

"Do you mean like you and your father?" Gloria said unexpectedly with a smile. "It's alright." Gloria's hand rested over Alice's chest and a finger played over a nipple. Natalie watched for a few minutes in silence.

"We've all enjoyed each other over the years," Alice said letting one knee rise and then fall to the side, her skirt uncovering places uncovered by undergarments.

"Look at you," Gloria whispered as she noticed.

"Who was your favorite lover?" Natalie asked no one in particular.

Gloria leaned down and kissed Alice several times lightly on the lips. As she sat back up and leaned back on one hand, she glanced at Natalie. "They were all my favorite ... but Alice was my first," she softly said looking again at Alice.

"Our father came next," Alice said as she continued to lay in Gloria's lap, the skin between her thighs still exposed, her hand now casually caressing places exposed. "It feels good to talk about it ... at last." She paused. "To have it out in the open." The wind caught Alice's skirt and flipped it up even more. No one moved it back.

Gloria's fingers slithered beside a button in Alice's blouse and inside found the bare skin of the breast she had been playing with. "Did you have fun with Uncle Mark?" she asked.

"I guess there are no secrets," Natalie joked and then laughed. "Yeah-h, he and Dad are both really good. Maybe he's not a good as Dad." She giggled as she thought about what she was saying to her Mom. Her index fingertip pulled against the folds of skin between her thighs and her mouth fell slightly open to let a gasp escape. Alice's finger diddled in similar places and a silent moan flowed.

"Yup, no secrets," Gloria roared and then laughter erupted from the three women.