DIXIE: Accidently Seduces Her Dad

Dixie meets the love of her life, but is in for the shock of her life. And what may follow could change her life forever. Chapter 2 to follow soon.

Chapter 01

Everyone thinks the deep south stops at the Georgia Florida line, but I am here to tell you that is nothing but bullshit. The backcountry exists down the backbone of the state.

Smack in the middle of nowhere near the line is where we are. Me and mama. She drives an hour to clean house for people that own racehorses and give her their once-worn dresses and gowns. I started working the lunch counter at the Friendly Diner two years ago when I was sixteen.

I might be eighteen but I learned early on how to get by a long time ago and to do that I speak my mind and take no crap. I never knew my Daddy, so it was just Mama and me. She never spoke much about him so all I knew he was never on the scene. We struggled at times, but we always got by.

"Dixie, you're looking lovely today." You knew what time it was by Cecil's daily appearance at the diner.

"How's it going, honey?" He could be my grandpa but he was sweet as a peach. I slid his coffee across the counter followed by apple pie ala mode.

"Ah, it's going." He shrugged. "Looks like a busy day."

"Was a really busy lunch for so early in the week." Usually, the end-of-the-week paycheck brought them in for a splurge. A few strangers this week too. That always got my attention because everyone knew everyone here.

I filled coffee down the counter. I set the pot back on the burner and turned to lean over the counter. "Neddie, don't you ever get tired of looking at my titties," I whispered in his ear, at the same time giving him a good look at them down my uniform.

"No, I don't, Miss Dixie."

Not that Neddie was the only one that gawked at my hooters. Not like they weren't always on display in this uniform that Mel, the owner, made me wear. It was a mid-thigh white button-front dress, like an old nurse's uniform. The little black apron tied around my waist and white tennis shoes completed my everyday outfit.

The good thing was, Mel bought and supplied my uniforms, the bad thing was Mel got them a size too small. The top button strained and gaped open across my titties. Thirty-eight D needed room that these uniforms did not supply. Even my white cotton Wal-Mart bra did nothing to give these breasts a G rating.

The other good thing was that Friendly's crowd was mostly men for breakfast and lunch. Flirting and titty shots filled my pockets with change by the end of the day. As I said, Mama taught me how to get by, but also to respect myself, so it never went past teasing and flirting.

The shift ended and I grabbed my purse, hollered a goodbye to the few in there, and started walking home. As I went by I waved at Linda in the Grocery Mart and got my daily wolf whistles from the boys that worked the barbershop. The single-screen movie theater did not open until six o'clock, and Hank's Hardware closed an hour ago.

I kicked off my tennis shoes going in the door. The button easily popped out of the straining buttonhole and I reached behind me and unhooked the cotton bra. I sighed when my breasts were free of their tight confines. The rest went in the laundry basket.

Mama would not be home for hours, and she would do the same as me when she walked in the door. I inherited my breasts and shapely figure from her.

I flipped through an old Frederick's of Hollywood catalog while wondering where that came from. I lusted after the luscious lace and satin bras. Their models had ample breasts like me and I was shocked there was something that nice for my big tits. Wal-Mart does not have anything like this, I thought.

I moaned out a long toe-curling orgasm and collapsed back on the sofa. Damn, I just got off on an old lingerie catalog. I need to find a man, I thought to myself.

...

Patsy Cline's Crazy came blaring on the jukebox and everyone turned to see who did that. Locals never played it, and it was a dead giveaway it was a stranger.

I set the menu, napkin, and silverware on the stranger's table and said loudly, "What can I get you to drink?"

"Coffee, thank you miss." His smile was at odds with the cold steel-gray eyes.

I went behind the counter and grabbed the pot of coffee. The decibel level raised as everyone tried to talk over Patsy's booming song. Mel could not remember how to turn the jukebox down so the rare times it played, most conversation stopped until the song was over.

I set his coffee on the table with a couple of creams. "Are you ready to order?" He looked down at his menu and I had a chance to look him over. He was older than me by twenty years probably, but had a familiarity about him that seemed much younger. It was a bit unsettling.

"Patty melt, french fries, and coleslaw," he said, smiling. I nodded and hurried away.

End of the shift I cleared my tables and loaded the bus pan to take in the back to the dishwasher.

Stepped out into the blinding Florida sun and stifling humidity, and stopped to slip on my sunglasses.

"I think I'm going your way... Or you're going my way," the stranger said stepping out the door behind me. We began walking. "You can just drop me off at the motel at the end of the street," he said, grinning.

It was a sexy as fuck grin no matter how old he was. "I'll be saying goodbye before we get there, I'm afraid."

"As long as it's not a forever goodbye! I'd miss my favorite waitress at the diner."

"I'm the only late lunch waitress at the diner." I laughed.

"Oh," he said and we both laughed.

Seemed like no time and it was my time to turn the block. "This is my stop," I said, smiling.

"Will you be available tomorrow to serve me?"

"Why yes, I believe I will be."

"Alright then. Till tomorrow!" He bowed his head and tipped his invisible cap.

Uniform hit the floor and my tits busted free today, happy about their release. I plopped on the sofa in my underwear and leaned my head back.

Damn Dixie, you never even asked his name, I thought. It would almost seem too intimate. I admitted to myself that I was drawn to him. Like no one I have ever known. I wondered if it was just because he was a novelty. We didn't often get strangers in town, they were not usually that handsome. Or friendly. And I was needy. That was most of it. I needed a man and the selection was slim locally.

"Mama, you're home early!" I was glad I started dinner early and got the plates and silverware out.

"Yes, and my feet are killing me!" She dropped into her worn blue recliner, kicked her shoes off, and unbuttoned her uniform. Of which I was envious of because it did actually fit her instead of keeping her tits in a vice all day like mine.

Her breasts were the same size as mine, and they too were happy to be freed. We often went topless around the house. No one ever visited and we lived in a small cottage behind a larger house. Mama knew the man that owned it and we got a cheap rent.

He was a nice man, older but good-looking. His wife was not home much. Mama would take the rent to the front house and stay awhile with him. One day I peeked in the window. The man was on his back on the bed and Mama was straddling him, bouncing, her tits flying until he got his hands on them. She ground down on his cock, leaned over, and dropped those humongous tits on his face. I could hear him groaning outside.

I watched until the man started bucking. Nearly bucking Mama off. Then they both started shouting. I ran back to the cottage and pretended to be napping when she got home.

I knew Mama did what she had to do to keep us out of the 'poor house' as she called it. All I know is she always took good care of me since I never had a Daddy to help.

We sat at the table topless eating our spaghetti.

"Look at us," Mama said and started giggling. I looked down and had spaghetti sauce splashes all over my tits and she had the same on hers. Then I started giggling. We had to stop eating until we quit laughing. Living with Mama was always fun, even through the hard times.

After we ate and cleaned up, Mama put on a threadbare dress. Too thin to even use for rags. But clothes like that were all either of us had to wear. It was easy to see Mama was not wearing a bra. The top button was gone and her dress was open wide from her titties pushing out.

"I'm going up to the front house for a while, honey. I might be back late."

"Okay, Mama." I did not mind. Mama should have some fun. I wish I could have fun too though, I thought.

...

I stood on tiptoes and reached up to fill the coffee urns with water. I tried to make it quick because I knew this damn uniform was so short they would all know what color underwear I had on.

"White is the color of the day," Neddie said when I turned around and I scowled and ignored him.

"Good morning, Dixie." Just the voice ran a little thrill through me.

"You're here early!" I looked around and said quietly, "You know my name but I don't know yours."

"Tucker. Tuck for short if you prefer," he said smiling.

"Tucker. It fits you."

"Thank you, my Mama would be really happy."

"She is here in town?"

"Nah, she lived in the next county over. She and my Dad passed a long time ago."

"Oh, I'm sorry. You lost both your parents." At eighteen I couldn't imagine. Although my Daddy was pretty much dead to me since I never met him.

"Yes, it was a long time ago but I still miss them." I nodded sadly.

"Hey, how about some coffee over here," someone yelled from a booth.

"Yeah yeah, quit your yapping, I'm coming," I hollered back.

On the way down the street, he mentioned something being bluish-purple.

"Bluish-purple huh," I said later. "Sounds very artsy."

"Well, I am an artist so maybe that's why," he said laughing.

"Really?!" Living in this deadbeat town the only thing I knew about art was Wal Mart had stacks of pictures on cardboard on their shelves.

"Really."

"Do you like, make a living at it?"

"Yes, I do. As a graphic artist for businesses mostly, logos, packaging and the like."

"What are you doing here then?" Wondering how he would ever end up in this town. "I'm sorry, Mama would say that was too nosy."

He laughed. "No, it's fine. I took some time off work to paint. My first love really. As I said, I grew up in the next town and was a little familiar with this area, so thought I would stay here for a bit."

"Wow, that's pretty cool. An artist." We stopped in time for my turn.

"Would you like to see some of my paintings?" he said, then laughed loudly. "Does that sound like a come-on or what?" We both laughed.

"Yes."

We continued to walk towards the motel while he told me how he got started painting and how he got into art school. We were soon at his door.

"Oh wow... Oh wow....."

I stood in the center of the bland motel room and rotated looking at all the canvases stacked against the walls. It was lit with vibrant colors on some, dark and moody on others, large and small. Among the landscapes and florals, there was a stack of nudes. I walked over to the nudes and began flipping through the canvases, virginly demure to pornographic. He captured women beautifully, even those canvases that were more explicit.

"I've never seen anything like this, Tucker."

He smiled. "You're young. I wouldn't expect you would."

"They're all beautiful," I murmured, going back through them more slowly.

"I'm glad you like it. It's important to me to capture a woman as she is. Some women are more sexual than others and that's how I like to depict them."

"How would you paint me?" I stopped at another nude in a field of yellow and pink flowers.

He cleared his throat. "I think you're too young to pose nude."

"I'll be nineteen next month."

"Oh. I thought you were younger."

I waited for a while, still studying his work. I turned to look at him and I could tell he was torn.

"I really want you to paint me, Tucker."

He swallowed hard. "If you're sure that's what you want," he said and I nodded immediately.

"When can we start?" I said excitedly.

"Let's see... Is tomorrow soon enough?" he said laughing.

"Yes! Okay then. What should I wear? Oh, wait!" I laughed. "Forget that! Oh my god, I'm so excited."

"It can be hard work. You're in one position for hours. I mean you'll get breaks but it's back to the same position."

"I can do it!"

...

I don't know why, because I told Mama everything, but I decided to keep this to myself. It is sort of my first important decision as an adult.

I started a warm bath and added the scented bubbles that Mama got me for Christmas. I found the soap and sponge from the same set. I was saving it for something special, and this was it. I was going to be a model.

I shaved, lathered, soaped, and creamed. I slipped my clean nightie on and waited for Mama to get home. Finally, I got tired and went to bed.

...

My workday crawled by, I snapped at the customers and it was past time that Tucker usually came in. I dropped a plate, got angry with Cecil, and watched the clock.

Then I cleared my tables and bussed the dishes. Grabbed my purse and stomped out the door without saying my usual goodbye. I came out the door and ran right into Tucker almost knocking him off his feet.

"Whoa, girl," he said, grabbing my arm to steady me. "Were you running away from or into me?" he said, laughing.

"No, I thought you changed your mind."

"What? Noway! I had to arrange some things in the room, set up lighting as well as canvas and paints. Time got away from me."

"Oh okay," I said, timidly.

He unlocked the door and I went in. The room had been changed around. One of the two beds was moved closer to the window and angled. A floor lamp was on in the corner, at the edge of the bed. The covers had been removed and just the pristine white mattress sheet remained.

"I wanted to get you in some filtered light. The sheer on the window won't allow anyone to look in, so don't worry."

He watched as I reached up and slipped the button out of the stretched buttonhole and my tits popped out of the confines of the tight dress. I stepped out of the dress and stood in panties and bra. I unhooked my bra, watching him watching me. His lips parted slightly, waiting for me to reveal my tits to him. I held the cups over my tits for a moment, then let it drop.

I didn't hear but saw his gasp when my titties were exposed to him. I bent over, my breasts swinging free and shimmied out of my panties. Finally, I stood naked in front of him.

"You are beautiful, Dixie. More than I even imagined. I feel so fortunate being allowed to paint you."

I reached up and unpinned my hair. Few ever saw it down. It spilled over my shoulders and down over my breasts. Spirals of blond curls cascaded around me.

"Oh Dixie," he murmured. I wanted to run over and kiss him. Throw myself in his arms. Unzip his pants and push them down to his knees. Pull him on top of me on the bed. Wrap my legs around him.

"Where do you want me," was all I said.

He positioned me on the bed. I was wondering if I would get one of the virginal paintings or one of the pornographic paintings.

He moved a leg or hand, stood back, re-positioned me, stepped back, moved the light, and re-positioned me. Finally settling on my right arm behind my head, hair spread on the pillow with some over my right tit so that my nipple would be seen and my left tit fully exposed.

My left leg was flat on the bed and bent at the knee. My right leg was brought up, my foot flat on the bed. He positioned my hand on my upper thigh so my left index finger was touching my cunt lip.

When he walked around the foot of the bed, my cunt would be wide open to him, but I wonder if he even noticed. He was so intense and concentrating, I wondered.

He sat at a stool behind his easel and picked up a pencil. He quickly sketched across the canvas.

I glanced down and was shocked to see his cock was hard and grown down the leg of his jeans. How had I not noticed that before I wondered? I began to fantasize about what his cock looked like. What if he sat there nude while he painted. What if he just got up, walked over, stripped naked, and got on top of me. I can feel I'm wet and ready for him.

He stopped and studied my face for a moment. I know my expression changed to hunger. My eyes were heavy with desire. My lips slightly parted. I hadn't started out that way. I wondered if his other models lusted after him. If they became lovers.

"Are you okay, Dixie?"

"I'm-," I said but nothing came out and I cleared my throat. "I'm fine. Am I doing okay?"

"You're doing beautifully honey. We will take a break soon, alright?"

"Yes," I said, being careful not to move.

He continued to paint, almost fiercely, as though compelled. Another hour went by and I began to feel stiff. I know he lost track of time and hated to stop him. I must have moved imperceptibly because he glanced back, and really looked at me. When he paints, he looks at me differently.

"Dixie honey I'm sorry I lost track of time."

He tossed me a man's button-up white shirt to wear. I just buttoned the middle one and began to stretch the kinks out of my muscles.

"May I see it?" He nodded and I went to stand next to him. He was adding some paint to the blue satin I was laying on. "Wow." I stared at the painting. "She is so sexy. So lusty."

He looked at me. "She is you." I looked at him. "You keep referring to this as she, but it's you."

I of course knew it was me but did not recognize it as being me. "I don't look like that. Her face. Her face is rapturous. And her body. All those curves." And I know my breasts don't near compare to hers, I thought.

He shifted his paintbrush to his other hand and touched my back. He made small circles. "You are all those things, Dixie. I paint what I see. I see a beautiful voluptuous woman that is sexy and curvaceous. I see lust simmering under the surface, ready to come out with the right provocation."

I blinked hard. Rubbing my back set every nerve on end. It was not like he was touching me in an intimate spot, but he might as well have been.

"I know you see what you do to me," he said, smiling. "Dixie any man would be so fortunate to see you like you are today. I'm excited to be the one. The one to see you intimately and paint you. I want to make sure your sexuality comes out in the painting."

He studied it again, his arm went around my waist and I put my hand on his shoulder. He sat on the low stool and my breasts just below eye level. I wanted to open my shirt and expose myself to him. Not as a model but as a lover. I wanted him to guide me to the bed, strip and cradle himself between my thighs. His mouth on my aching nipples, his cock probing between my legs.

"Why don't you grab something to drink from the cooler and we will get started when you're ready."

That quickly shook me out of my fantasies. I bent over to get a soda out of the ice and held the cold bottle to my throat. The water dripped off the bottle and ran down my chest and over my tits. The cold felt so good I closed my eyes and rolled the bottle across my upper chest. The water ran down and collected on my nipples.

I opened my eyes to Tucker staring. I glanced down and saw the white shirt had absorbed the water, making it transparent. The fabric clung to my nipples, the cold made them hard. Along with the lusty look on his face.

"I think I'm ready now," I said, my voice gravelly.

I got back into place and after he made a few adjustments, he was back to painting. He did not work as fast this time, and when he looked around the edge of the canvas, he looked at me differently.

After about an hour he said, 'Let's wrap it up today. You are a great model and I don't want you to get tired of it."

"I'm really fine but you will need me again? You're not done are you?" I said, almost desperately.