Amor Prohibetur Ch. 16

He lifted Amy's upper leg, pushed his hard-on between her thighs, and brought the leg down. At first, he simply rocked back and forth, letting his manhood go through all sorts of sensations. When Gary started getting carried away, he absently reached over and clasped his daughter's ass, giving it a good squeeze the same way he did to her mother. With one hand holding her thighs together, and the other hand full of ass, Gray bucked back and forth and started shaking the entire bed.

After a short time, he realized Amy's hand was on his forearm, on the arm he was using to grip her butt. The understanding that his daughter was awake made him slow down so he could think of what he should do next. He was torn between being the coward and running off, or being the hard-ass and demanding what he'd threatened to do the day before.

"Did mom already leave for work?" Amy asked, timidly.

Gary nodded, until he understood that Amy wasn't looking at him. He cleared his throat. "Yeah. She already left."

"I can't believe you're touching my butt like that." Amy grumbled. "This is really degrading to me, dad. All I did was scratch my fucking car."

Gary tried to sound as if he knew what he was doing, as if he still had some authority in his voice. "I'm taking your keys away."

"You said that yesterday!" Amy griped. "All right, I'll do what you said! I'll assume your fucking position! Shit! You're such a dick!"

His daughter rolled over, getting up on her hands and knees and letting her long shirt cover her only from the waist up. She'd been in that pose the day before, but she'd had her panties on that time. On this occasion, Gary was much closer and could look at a lot more of her bottom half. Amy grumbled some obscenity, as her father prodded her to the middle of the bed.

"Do we have to do this on my bed?" She complained. "I have to sleep here, you know!"

"When I take your car to the mechanic, you're coming with me." Gary decided. "You're going to watch that asshole walk around while he's scratching his head and giving me the look like I'm the going to pay for his next vacation. You'll see. He'll say, oh, this is bad. That's three hundred, easy. And this door, we probably need a whole new door. And just look at this fender. They don't make fenders like this anymore..."

"I get it, I get it!" Amy argued. "Just... Do what you have to do! I need my car fixed because the stupid door won't open!"

Gary waited a few seconds, not because he was staring at his daughter's nice ass and thighs, but because he was hoping to hear her say something else. The words he wanted to hear were 'I'll pay you back as soon as I can.' But did he hear those words? No! That's because Gary was the sucker who paid for everything and got nothing back in return. If Amy had said that, Gary would have thought, okay, there is hope for her yet, that she won't turn into another black hole for his money like her mother had. Gary might have simply said, all right, that's good enough for me. We'll work out a schedule and we don't have to go through with this deal we have on your bed. Because he didn't hear those words, well, that meant Amy probably wouldn't send one copper penny in his direction to help pay for the damage she'd done.

"Yeah, how about we lose this shirt?" He said, tugging at the end. He was annoyed and more in control than before.

As Amy took her shirt off, he pulled off his boxers. With father and daughter nude, she assumed her position and he got up behind her. Amy reached past her butt, finding Gary's eager cock. She started tugging on it, making him wonder if she was trying to avoid the final step in their tryst in exchange for a hand-job. Actually, Gary didn't mind that option. He was getting an eyeful of his naked daughter already; a hand-job was more than acceptable to him.

No, Gary reconsidered. She was doing that for some other reason. Maybe Amy's boyfriends had such short attention spans that they didn't get it up right away. Maybe young men watched too much porn and were disinterested when a real woman came along. Maybe a modern girl had to tug on modern guys just to get them aroused. Who the hell knew what the true reason was?

All Gary knew was that when he started panting, his daughter started pulling him closer. She aimed it, and she came back to him to absorb it. Amy squealed with her mouth closed, as she took in part of her father, then backed up and backed up again until he was fully in place. Before Gary could make his first thrust, his daughter was pushing against him and taking over the encounter.

Fine with him, Gary thought. He gripped his daughter's butt, letting her bring her hips all the way back to him, before she slid away, nearly releasing him, and came all the way back again. That wasn't something his wife usually did; she mostly let Gary do all the moving around.

Amy went through those same motions, until Gary was excited enough to join her. He waited until she was pushed back on him, when he suddenly shoved forward and jolted their bodies together. Caught by surprise, Amy made a noise like a cat. That was such an unusual sound that Gary hardly knew what to think. Amy pulled away, coming back to him guardedly this time. He bucked into her, provoking that same noise from her throat.

Gary couldn't figure it out. His wife was as quiet as a mouse in bed, up until she was near her climax. That's when she started squeaking with her mouth shut so she wouldn't be heard all over the house. Apparently, Amy didn't care how loud she got or who listened, as she kept uttering that same cat-like sound every time they bumped together.

And another thing; it was only now dawning on Gary that his daughter wasn't all that tight. How many young men had she slept with, anyway? Maybe he didn't want to know the answer to that question. Times were a lot different than when he was Amy's age, that's for sure.

Amy kept coming back, now expecting her father's participation and squealing when they couldn't possibly get any closer. Gary was moving a little faster, forcing her to match his pace, but at the same time his brain was running on high gear.

He'd sort of jumped into the swimming pool without checking the water first. His eyes had seen something they liked, and his cock started its long distance mating call by standing up. His cock, and his brain for that matter, didn't have any problem whatsoever with family ties. The big hurry was to get in there! Now that Gary was doing something he should not have been doing, his brain said, well, you know what happens in cases like this.

He sure did. Gary was bringing his daughter up to an orgasm. Amy was panting and heaving and making all sorts of noise now. Gary's body was going on automatic, or on natural instinct maybe. It recognized where his daughter was and it reciprocated her sexual energy to bring them both to higher levels of understanding. Yeah, right! What kind of understanding was this, huh? It wasn't your regular family bonding, that's for sure!

When Amy started crying out, Gary really lost it. His cock was rattling and spilling and doing all kinds of things in her body. His daughter was really letting loose with her loud noise; people could probably hear her out on the driveway!

Now, Gary was wondering if Amy was faking her orgasm, or if she was extra loud because she'd seen some porn actress doing that. When his daughter turned around to suck his dick, after he'd cum inside her, Gary finally put his hands out to stop things.

"Hold on, hold on." He said. "I guess your mother didn't tell you about the birds and the bees all that well. You and me, we're going to have a talk about that. Certain things you can do, but certain other things mean you're going too far."

Amy sat on the edge of the bed with a bored look on her face, as if she was a hooker waiting for a John to pay her and leave. Gary didn't like that look on her, so he started for the door.

"What about my car?" Amy asked his back.

"I've got to hit the street." Gary said, over his shoulder. "Tomorrow, we're going to the mechanic to get that estimate."

He and his wallet were a means to an end, Gary thought. That was kind of the way his wife saw him, but with Amy it was exponentially worse.

The estimate from the mechanic was fifteen hundred dollars for the repairs. Oh, you should have seen that jerk! Even though it was simply a front fender, a door and a back fender, the mechanic went on about the car's under-frame being bent and about the tires being out of alignment and whatever else he could invent. Like the two women that lived with Gary, the mechanic saw him as a miraculous fountain of cash.

Gary gravely nodded back at the man, as if he really was stupid enough to believe all that made up cockamamie. The entire time, his daughter was standing there with her mouth gaped open, believing everything that came out of the mechanic's mouth as if it were the gospel straight from heaven. Gary couldn't blame her entirely for being so naive. Most young people were like that nowadays.

"I can start working on your car as early as tomorrow morning." The mechanic said. "Do you want me stick you on the schedule?"

That was a good way to put it, wasn't it? Gary was going to get stuck no matter what he did. Not only was he going to get stuck in the wallet, but he was also getting shafted in the ass right along with that sticking. He remembered some old joke about bringing his own lube to a car shop, otherwise he'd get the ball-bearing grease.

"Yeah, I don't have the money right now." Gary frowned and shook his head. "Maybe in a week or two."

"I can knock down a hundred bucks, but that's as low as I can go, man." The mechanic told him.

What the fuck? Seriously, what the fuck? Gary wasn't talking to a mechanic; he was negotiating with a car salesman, for a car he already owned!

Patiently, quietly, Gary got a written estimate for the work, herded his apprehensive daughter into her car, through the driver's side because she couldn't go in the other way, and he got the fuck out of Dodge. It wasn't until he hit the street that his anger boiled out of him. That's when he started punching the steering wheel and hurling profanity.

"I'm sorry, okay!" Amy cried out. "It was a fucking accident!"

"What?" Gary asked. His daughter's outburst had pulled him back into the real world. "I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at that son of a bitch mechanic! I get it! Accidents happen sometimes. What really burns my ass is how quick some people are at taking advantage of those accidents!"

"What are you talking about?" Amy asked.

Gary frowned. "I know you're going to forget this in five minutes, but here goes. If you learned how to put your stupid phone down, you might be able to study people and see when they are lying right into your face."

"I don't get it. Who was lying? Are you talking about me?"

"No shit, you don't get it." Gary grumbled. He remembered that idiom, about youth being wasted on the young. This new generation of young people was living proof of that.

"Where are we going now?" Amy noticed they were getting further and further from their neighborhood.

"I know this won't make any sense to your small way of thinking, but we're going out for a second opinion."

"Why? What's wrong with the shop we just left?"

Gary ignored her. It didn't take any more than two minutes for his daughter to get back on her phone. He wondered what Amy was texting to her friends. She might be messaging: You're not going to believe it. My dad is such an asshole! He doesn't want to fix my car! Doesn't he know how much I need my car?

After driving clear across town, he pulled into another mechanic shop. Asians ran this one.

"This place is dirty." Amy noticed.

"No kidding." Gary nearly rolled his eyes. "Believe it not, mechanics are supposed to get dirty. It's part of their job. Let's test your memory skills, shall we? How many cars were sitting at the last shop waiting to get worked on, and how many do we have here?"

"I don't know." Amy shrugged, scanning the parking lot. "Wait. I think this place has more cars."

The first shop only had a few cars in it, mostly belonging to that jackass and his fellow mechanics. This supposedly 'dirty' place was so full of customer cars that they were parked out on the street. His vapid daughter could barely tell the difference.

Gary got out, and because he'd been raised right, he held his arm out to Amy as she climbed over the front seat to exit. Two thin and very dirty Asian men walked over. One man was wiping his grimy hands with a rag.

"How we help you?" One man asked.

Gary led them over to the damaged side of the car, pointing out the long mar. "I want you to give me an estimate to fix this."

As the two mechanics began studying the damage, Gary pulled Amy back by a few feet.

"Put your fucking phone away or I'm going to break it." He threatened, before he handed her the first estimate. "I want you to look at these prices and compare them to what these guys tell us."

Amy made a face, but she did hide her all-important phone.

"This fender fucked up." The Asian told them in his broken English. "Have to buy new. This door no good."

"Tell me how much." Gary said.

The mechanic started over. "This fender three hundred new. This door we get from junkyard; only one hundred dollar. Back fender not so bad. We can fix for seventy-five. If we have to paint door, maybe fifty dollar more. I fix all of this for eight hundred."

"Can you check the underside for damage?" Gary asked.

Unlike the first mechanic, who had to drive Amy's car on a hydraulic machine and lift it into the air, the Asian man simply lay down in his coveralls and scooted down there on his back.

"No damage to frame." He said, once he was back on his feet.

"What about the tire alignment?" Gary pointed.

"I check." The man decided. "You turn wheel all way to one side."

Gary did that, then turned the steering wheel all the way to the other side when he was prompted to.

"No problem with alignment." The Asian man said. "I check with machine for free."

"When can I bring the car in?" Gary asked.

"Come in two days." The man nodded. "We have room then. Come in morning."

The father and daughter got back into the vehicle. As Gary started the drive back home, he handed the new estimate to Amy.

"I don't get it." His daughter said. "Why is one fifteen hundred dollars and the other one only eight hundred?"

"Because the first mechanic is a lying piece of shit, that's why."

Amy gave him a look of stunned shock, as if it was something impossible that a man could lie about fixing her car. How had things gotten so bad, Gary wondered.

A few minutes later, he asked, "When you scratched the car up, were you not paying attention because you were busy texting?"

Amy was texting when she heard that. As if she actually felt some remorse or guilt over the question, she quietly put her phone away.

Gary shook his head and kept on driving.

For the next couple of days, Amy was both hopeful and pestering to her father. Gary guessed that her friends were making fun of how she'd damaged her car, or maybe she was self-conscious about it, as if the bad appearance of the car made her look bad, too. She never mentioned that incestuous incident to her mother, thankfully, and she didn't seem to have a grudge against her father either. It was a simple trade, Gary assumed. A piece of ass to calm him down and get the car fixed. From Gary's point of view, it was the most expensive piece of ass he'd ever paid for.

When the appointed day came, Amy followed her father to the shop. Since Gary would be chauffeuring her to school and back, he had to adjust his work schedule around to accommodate her college classes. It wasn't so bad, except for a few days when he would have to take midday naps, sleep late and wake up much later in the morning.

That turned out to be a good thing, as he met three ravers who liked to go all over town on a whim. They hated waiting for drivers to show up. The ravers tipped Gary and bought him food so he could wait around, instead of them having to call up a new driver all the time. From his financial point of view, he was making just a little less money with these people than he'd be making if he were working with random clients. At the same time, he was using a lot less gas and putting less wear and tear on his car. It made sound sense to stick with them.

Late one morning, Gary woke up vibrating on his bed. The first thing he saw was his white ceiling, but once he raised his head, he discovered that his daughter was on her side, leaned over his waist. He witnessed her dark hair, her light gray blouse and skimpy gray shorts. Amy had pulled his boxers down, Gary understood, and was jerking him into a state of arousal. It was working, too. Her warm, vigorous hand was causing him to become as hard as rock.

Not knowing what to say, Gary put his head back down on his pillow and stared at the ceiling. Yes, he had screwed his daughter, and he felt he was justified for doing that because he hated being Mr. Money to her. At the same time, he figured what he'd done was a one-time event. He certainly didn't plan for it to happen again, because what man would do that to his own progeny? One time, that could be attributed to his anger, his lust or his need for respect. Two times or more, that was something else.

"I'm guessing your mother's not home?" Gary asked.

"She left about an hour ago." Amy replied, her head not turning and her hand still provoking him. "She's working six hours again."

Gary was wondering how he should feel about what his daughter was up to. He wasn't in any kind of bad mood this time, as he'd been the last, when he'd gone from being very impatient to very horny in a span of seconds. No, this time he'd simply woken up to a warm hand on his cock, and a warm body lying across his.

Amy shifted about slightly. Gary thought she might be getting up to leave, but that was completely wrong. Instead, his daughter held his hard prick up and put her mouth around it. The excited father couldn't help but shudder at this unexpected, and from his part, unprovoked sort of attention. He would have never suspected that Amy was capable of doing such a thing to him.

It agitated Gary to think his daughter was giving him a blowjob, so much that he closed his eyes and pretended it was his wife. Amy's hair was too long, however, and her actions too rushed, dispelling his fantasy quickly. His mind battled between what was really taking place, and what Gary wanted to envision as a substitute.

Despite his worries, Amy kept bobbing up and down on him regularly, the same as she'd done with her hand only moments before. She was fast at catching his groans, and on capitalizing on what she was doing when she heard them. There was purpose there, Gary noted, where Amy was seeking out the most sensitive places on his cock. That was much different than what his wife did. His spouse had the idea that a blowjob was just one more three-minute step between foreplay and intercourse. His daughter, on the other hand, saw the fellatio as its own little drama.

During their first time together, Gary had kept his hands away from his daughter's body, except for her ass. He figured he would be feeling a lot of guilt afterward if he'd done something like feeling on her tits. He might not have been able to look her eye again if he'd done that. By taking her from behind, and by keeping his hands only on her butt, Gary was able to disassociate what they'd done. All he remembered was a bushy head of hair and a slender body. He hadn't seen his daughter's face or looked into her eyes.

Today, because she was doing what she was, Gary felt compelled to touch her. This had to do with how she perceived sex as a tool and not a passion to be shared with lovers. The father figure in him wanted Amy to know that it wasn't entirely superficial; that there were other aspects to sex past the physical ones.