Watching Father George

Watching Father George

"Aunt Tillie, can you drive a little faster please? I really don't want to miss my train."

"Alright my dear, hold on."

My Auntie Tillie gunned the engine of her 1961 Corvette Stingray, and I felt my body pushed back against my seat. We we're doing ninety when we exited the highway, but as luck would have it, or in my case more bad luck, as we drove onto the city streets, we ended up behind a Morgan Hill police cruiser doing the speed limit of twenty-five miles per hour.

My aunt chuckled, "Oh shoot, that's bad luck Maddie."

I cursed under my breath, "Fuck, fuck...fuck!"

I took a few seconds to compose myself and then looked over at her, "I know Aunt Tillie, this hasn't been such a great day for me."

We pulled into the train station parking lot at 8:01 pm, with my train just pulling away from the loading platform.

"Oh dear, I am sorry Maddie. The next train won't be along for another two hours. Would you like me to stay with you while you wait?"

I leaned over and gave her a warm hug, "No thank you Auntie. That's sweet of you to offer, but I'll be fine by myself in the waiting room."

As I was exiting her car my aunt affectionately rubbed my cheek, "When you get back to your apartment you should take a shower dear. You're a bit niffy."

Good old Auntie Tillie is always painfully honest with me. That's one of her traits that I admire, she isn't afraid of telling me the truth, even if it's a bit embarrassing.

I'd just started working on my Masters Degree in Psychology at San Francisco State University in the hopes this would lead to a successful career in counseling. Like most college students, money was tight, so when my aunt called and asked me to help out with an outdoor wedding reception that she was catering Saturday afternoon I readily agreed. A plus was that I would be working behind the bar serving bottles of ice cold beer and pouring glasses of red and white wine. My uniform consisted of a black leather skirt that came to midthigh, a long sleeve white dress shirt with a black bow tie, and a shiny black vest. It had been a very warm day which caused me to sweat profusely, but it was worth it. When the reception was over at six o'clock my tip jar was full, and not just dollar bills.

My boyfriend Randy was supposed to pick me up at six thirty with a change of clothes for me. We'd made plans to drive directly to Carmel for a romantic getaway at a cozy bed and breakfast with a view of Monterey Bay. I'd even gone to the trouble and pain of having my pubic hair waxed. But at six forty-five Randy called and said something had come up unexpectedly, and he would not be able to pick me up. He suggested I take the train back to San Francisco and he would meet me at the station. Naturally I was pissed off at him, but I became ten times more angry when I heard a woman's voice giggling in the background, and the sound of a zipper being pulled down, and then the woman's voice whispering.

"Shit Randy, you're really big" followed by some slurping sounds, and then, "but it's ok, you're not too big for me."

I was livid, "Who the hell are you with, Randall?"

I could hear him rustling around for a bit before he answered, "That's just my sister...um...Jane. She wanted to surprise me and flew in from London."

Randy had never mentioned a sister named Jane before, so I was naturally skeptical of his explanation.

"Well, what a nice surprise. Can I say hello to... Jane?"

There were more rustling sounds in the background before he answered.

"Um...no. She just went to the bathroom. I think she's going to take a shower."

I wanted to ask him if she was going to be alone in the shower, but I held my tongue. Recently I'd been having doubts about Randy's commitment to our relationship. He'd been getting text messages on his phone at weird hours, and he was being very protective of his phone and laptop computer. In the back of my mind, I had the sinking feeling that he was cheating on me, and this phone call just confirmed my suspicions. I decided right then that I would dump him, but I didn't want to do it over the phone. I made an excuse and ended the call.

I mumbled under my breath "What a jerk! What a fucking jerk! You asshole!! I waxed off my pubes for you, you prick!"

I closed my eyes and tried to catch my breath. I wanted to get even with him and thought, "What's good for the goose is good for the gander. If that asshole is going to fuck around on me, I can do the same damn thing to him."

My aunt was nearby, and I think she could tell what was going on. She walked up to me and I could see she was concerned.

"Is there a problem Maddie?"

I looked back at her, "Nothing I can't take care of Aunt Tillie. But do you think you can give me a ride to the train station? My ride home just crapped out on me."

"Oh, that's a shame dear. We can leave in about twenty minutes. Is that ok?"

I checked the time on my phone.

"Yeah, that should work, but it'll be close."

"Well in that case I'll just have to finish up as quickly as I can."

"You're a sweetheart, Aunt Tillie."

***

The train platform was deserted. The majority of passengers are weekday commuters headed to work in San Francisco or Silicon Valley. I made my way to the waiting room, which was a pleasant surprise as there was a cozy fireplace with some easy chairs and a comfortable sofa. Since it was the middle of summer there was no fire. I took a seat in one of the easy chairs with a magazine that was three months old.

A few minutes later a well-dressed man in his mid-fifties came in carrying an expensive brown leather briefcase. He acknowledged me by nodding his head and murmuring that he'd missed his connection. I smiled back at him and went on to explain that I shared his plight.

"Well, it looks like your day is going as badly as mine Sir. I've missed my train by one lousy minute."

"I see. That is bad luck Miss. It looks like we're both having a crummy day. You have my sympathy."

He seemed to be a very nice older gentleman. He picked up one of the magazines which was about four months old and took a seat on the sofa. We were both bored out of our minds. After a few minutes of trying to concentrate on the article I was reading I finally gave up. I looked over the top of my magazine and noticed that the gentleman was peeping over his magazine and it was obvious that he was trying to look up my skirt. His free hand was pushing down onto his crotch. I had to will myself not to giggle at this inappropriate behavior. When he realized that I'd spotted him he became agitated and tried to explain his actions by muttering a lame excuse.

"Your skirt is very short, young lady."

I wasn't sure how to respond to this. I simply nodded my head before explaining my attire.

"These are my work clothes. I was tending bar at a wedding reception at the country club. The guests seemed to like how I was dressed."

He looked me in the eye, judging my demeanor. Then he smiled, "Yes, I'm sure they did. You're a very attractive young woman. That skirt suits you quite nicely."

I enjoyed the complement. Though this gentleman was easily thirty years older than me, I felt strangely attracted to him. For the longest time I've had "Daddy" fantasies. I knew many of my girlfriends shared this fantasy too, of being intimate with an older male authority figure. The situation felt surreal to me. He looked to be in good health and his full head of grey hair made him look distinguished. Without even really thinking about it I leaned forward and grabbed the magazine out of his hand.

I could see that he was about to protest, so I gave him my warmest smile and looked him in the eye. He smiled back at me. We maintained eye contact for a few seconds. Under normal circumstances this would have become awkward, but I felt at ease with this man. But then I looked down at his crotch and there was a pronounced bulge indicating his aroused state. He was starting to look nervous, but he could see that I wasn't threatening, but that I was curious. I've never seen a man do it to himself properly in front of me, and I decided to take a chance.

"Do you want to do it to yourself?"

As soon as I said it, I felt my face becoming warm from embarrassment. What on earth was I thinking?

He was still nervous and didn't answer at first, and there was a horrible silence for a minute or so.

Then he took a deep breath and asked, "Do you want to watch?"

I think we both felt a bit out of control and were moving on blindly. The consequences were terrifying.

He said cautiously, "I can't risk getting caught."

The secrecy was so exciting. I couldn't understand my own actions.

"I can't risk getting caught either. The way my day is going I'd end up getting arrested for public indecency."

He breathed heavily and muttered, "I like your uniform. It's nice and short. I like small uniforms on big girls like you."

I smiled at his confession. It was so honest and heartfelt.

The station was so clearly deserted that I said, "There's no risk. No one will come in here this evening, and we have over an hour until the next train comes."

He sighed and squeezed himself and tried to look to his side at my legs, but it was awkward. It was the sort of crazy situation that I, and many girls and women I suppose, had thought about so often late at night in bed or in the bathroom. Suddenly all the boredom had vanished. I could plainly see the excitement on his face. I felt as if I was in a dream.

I remembered what he'd said about my work attire and murmured, "So you really like my uniform?"

He nodded, so I went a bit further.

"Do you like big girls in small panties?"

He gasped and wriggled. I continued to probe.

"Do you want me to sit directly opposite you?"

He simply nodded his head. We were both gaining in confidence. As I sat in front of him, I knew he could partly see up my skirt.

He muttered, "Can you lift your foot up?"

I realized what he wanted. He was so polite. I knew this was as strange to him as it was to me. My heart was pounding as I lifted one foot up on my chair and he sighed. I wanted to know more.

"Do you like my panties?"

He had undone his trousers now and we were both feeling more confident because we were so anonymous, and so alone. He started to rub the bulge in his underwear. I couldn't tell if he was wearing boxers or briefs, since only a little of the material was showing, but I was a little surprised that it was light pink in color. My mind wasn't on his underwear, but what was behind that thin strip of fabric.

His eyes were laser focused on my crotch.

"I like the way your panties pull in tightly between your legs."

I giggled, "That part is my panty gusset. It feels nice when it's pulling into my crotch."

He muttered, "What's your name?"

I don't think he intended to ask. It just came out, sort of automatically.

I felt confused and started to say "Mad..." before stopping, and I told him the first name that came into my head.

"It's Wendy. What's yours?"

I glanced down at his briefcase. It had his name in gold lettering, Rev George Kelley. He hesitated for a few seconds and then said "John. It's John Smith."

We both knew they were false names. It gave us freedom. We were anonymous.

He spoke nicely, "I like your crotch Wendy."

I smiled. We were both getting personal.

"I've been working in the hot sun all afternoon, and I've been sweating a lot. My panties are a bit grubby."

He had his cock out now and gripped it in his fist. It was the first time I'd seen one that big. It excited me. He began slowly moving his hand up and down the length of his shaft.

"I like thinking that you're wearing soiled panties, and I can see your gusset."

He was groaning a bit and I was panting, but also feeling heavenly. I wanted to improve things even further.

"John?"

"Yes Wendy?"

"Would you like me to open my legs more so you can see my crotch better?"

He groaned appreciatively, "Oh god yes! I would love that, Wendy!"

I lifted both my feet up onto the seat and splayed my knees and felt my panties pulling in even tighter. It seemed that the loneliness of the waiting room, and both of us using false names allowed us to be totally honest.

"I like the way your panty gusset is pulling into your crotch Wendy."

I nodded.

"Most girls like doing it. It excites us. I like doing it deliberately for you John."

He was looking intently between my legs while he gently stroked himself a little faster.

"Can I ask you a personal question, Wendy?"

It seemed silly to say 'no' so I just nodded.

"You said you'd been working all afternoon in the hot sun, and you'd been sweating a lot."

I simply nodded.

He panted, "Does that mean your vagina is sweaty too?"

He was right. It was a very personal question. It also made me realize that I was still feeling sweaty for a totally different reason. I didn't go into any explanation but just told him, "Yes it is John, and you're making it even more so."

He groaned and squeezed his shaft again, and I could see the top of it turning sort of red and getting round. He saw that I was curious.

"That's my knob Wendy."

I wasn't sure what to say.

"I like your knob, John. Would you mind showing it to me properly?"

He seemed perplexed at first, but then he understood the situation.

"I want to please you Wendy."

I leaned towards him in my chair as he stood up and dropped his trousers to the floor. His underwear was clearly showing. I was a bit taken aback when I realized this respectable older gentleman who was a priest was wearing women's pink bikini panties. I wanted to reassure him.

"Your pretty underwear looks nice on you, John."

He smiled back at me and then stuck his thumbs into the elastic waist band of his panties and dropped them to the floor on top of his trousers.

"My panties are comfortable Wendy. They make me feel nice inside."

He took a step towards me, so the head of his cock was about a foot in front of my face. He shook it a few times playfully, which made me giggle.

"You have a lovely cock John. It's so big and straight. The skin is blemish free and looks like it's made of flesh colored porcelain. I can see a little slit at the tip. Would you mind if I take a picture of it John?"

He simply grinned at me.

"I wouldn't mind at all, Wendy."

I pulled my phone out of my purse, aimed the camera at his beautifully erect phallus and snapped a close up photo of it.

I took a look at the photo.

"It's lovely. Thank you, John."

I thought about reaching out and touching him...I mean... it, but I hesitated, and before I made my move he sat back down in his chair.

He smiled, as my comment must have sounded childish, but he returned the compliment.

"I like the way your panties are really pulling in now Wendy. They're so tight. I can see a line."

It was my turn to smile now as it was feeling gorgeous. I wanted to explain what the line was.

"They're trying to pull right up me John."

He must have known what I was saying but he asked, "Up you Wendy? Do you really mean, 'Up you'?"

I felt really womanly.

"Yes John. Up me. My panties are trying to pull right up into my slit."

I saw his knob surge a bit and his shaft thickened. He liked me saying these words.

"I expect you have a nice little slit, Wendy?"

His question made me smile.

"I'm twenty-two now John. It's a nice slit, but it's quite a big slit now."

I started to press myself in front of him using two fingers.

He fisted himself as he watched me.

"Wendy?"

"Yes John?"

"I'm jacking off for you."

I wasn't sure how to respond. It was a mannish sort of expression. Then I thought we were both using false names and I would never see him again.

"I'm doing it for you too, John."

We both went quiet as we did it for each other in the deserted waiting room.

"Do you do it very often Wendy?"

The conversation was so personal. I wouldn't even talk to my best girlfriend like this. But it was also so liberating.

"About once every two days John."

"Where, Wendy?"

I loved the banter. I wanted to giggle.

"Usually on the toilet John."

It was such a light frivolous conversation, but I could see this was exciting him and knew he could easily ejaculate too soon if I wasn't careful. Men are like that. I knew I could do it a number of times. All of my girlfriends could too. But I was old enough to know that men can only do it once.

"How long can you last John? We still have an hour before the next train."

He understood my question.

"I'm trying to pace myself Wendy. I can hold on for another forty minutes. I'm enjoying it too much, to cum just yet."

It pleased me that he was trying to be nice to me.

He was fisting himself gently and I was staring with fascination at his cock. His knob was enlarging and turning a darker shade of red. He was staring at my panty gusset and I realized he couldn't see me properly.

"Do you want to see my slit John?"

I liked the way he gasped "Oh god! Yes please Wendy!"

I knew I couldn't go too far.

"I will show it to you John, but I can't take my panties off."

He nodded understandingly.

"I know that Wendy."

"If I pull my gusset to one side, I can open my legs wide for you to see all of it."

I didn't wait for him to answer and eased my sodden panties to the side which fully exposed my slit to him.

He groaned, "It's so lovely Wendy. Thank you for showing it to me."

"Can I ask you a favor John?"

"Anything Wendy."

I felt my face getting warm, "Can I call you Daddy?"

He looked so nice and comfortable.

"I can be Daddy for you Wendy."

I remembered he had liked me telling him about sweating at the wedding reception. I teased him.

"It's a bit sweaty Daddy, just like my panty gusset."

He groaned and tugged his shaft up and down and muttered, "Can I smell it Luv?"

I gasped but nodded. I gasped again as he pushed his face in and sniffed my cunt. He seemed to like it. I liked being sniffed by him. I would never ever have this opportunity again, so I took a chance. I reached down with my fingers and splayed my labia for him.

"Daddy, I want you to lick me."

He didn't hesitate as he pushed his pink tongue out and licked my pussy with the flat surface. It felt so wonderful. I was over the moon. We stayed like that for several minutes as he probed inside of me with the tip of his tongue.

Then I eased his face away and said, "Daddy, I want to watch you do it to yourself properly."

He sat back in his chair and was seriously fisting himself now, as I watched him. My gusset was still pulled to the side. It was very quiet except for some slurping noises to which we were both contributing.

I had already 'happened' twice, but I knew I could do it another three times. I knew he was coming to the end, and I didn't want him to hold back.

"I want to see you cum, Daddy."

What was so wonderful about this experience was that we were both openly doing what the other asked. We wanted each other to enjoy everything without any silly reservations.

He immediately agreed to my request.

"I will dear, but... there will be a lot of it."

I wanted the details.

"A lot of what... Daddy?"

He looked back at me.

"Spunk. There will be a lot of spunk. Do you want me to spunk for you?"

He was furiously tugging up and down on his shaft. He had turned my excitement back on me.

I panted, "Yes Daddy, I want you to spunk for me. Now Daddy!"

It was a silly conversation, but it was what we both wanted.

He had reached his limit and moved forward so that he was partly on his knees still tugging himself up and down. He was looking straight between my thighs.

"Keep your skirt all the way up daughter."

"I will Daddy."