Stranded Daddies
Lubrican
Stranded Daddies
by Robert Lubrican
Bookapy Edition
Copyright 2007 Robert Lubrican
2nd Edition edited 2023
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Table of Contents
Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six
Seven | Eight | Nine | Ten | Eleven | Twelve
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter One
Dave Thompson turned the radio up a little as You're Addicted to Love came on the station they were listening to. He heard Robert Palmer, but, in his mind's eye, he saw the deadpan, white faces of the women on the video, as they held guitars and swayed enticingly, in that unbelievably sexy understated way. Dick Williams, his next door neighbor, and best friend, started rocking in the seat next to him as he got into the beat too.
The girls were in the back seat, dead to the world, after a soccer game that had been a real thriller. Dave looked into the rear view mirror to make sure he hadn't made the music too loud. He didn't want to wake them. They'd played hard, and they were bushed.
"Man, the memories this song brings back," said Dick, his face twisting as he mouthed the words "addicted to love", hamming it up.
Dave was so into the music that he didn't see the warning light on the dashboard light up. It wasn't until he felt the car falter, that he looked down and saw the "oil" light brightly lit. He heard the rapid, staccato sound of valves, trying to work without oil, and knew it was bad already, if he could hear it over the music.
"Fuck!" he snarled, letting off of the gas. His hand flashed to the volume knob and he twisted it viciously.
"Hey!" said Dick, and then he heard the noise too. "Uh Oh," he said, unnecessarily.
Dave pulled to the shoulder and shut it down. Even inside the cab they could both hear the crackle and pop of overheated metal, flexing under the hood. He looked in the rearview mirror, to see if there was any traffic behind him, and when he didn't see anything, he opened his door. He leaned down and pulled the hood release, groaning when smoke flowed out of the gap created by the hood popping up a few inches.
Both men stared at the engine. They could feel the heat, standing three feet away. The dip stick burned Dave's fingers when he tried to pull it. There was a rag in the trunk, but he didn't want to go get it. He knew what he'd see when he pulled the stick. Nothing. He'd see nothing, where a black coating of oil should be, where the cross hatched lines lay next to the words "operating range" on the dip stick.
"Did you check the oil when we left?" asked Dick.
Dave shot him a dark look. "Of course I checked the oil. I'm not an idiot."
"Just asking," said Dick.
"What's going on?" came a soprano female voice.
Both men looked to see Denise Williams, Dick's daughter, come from where the open hood had blocked their view of her getting out of the back seat. Both men noted her short, lush body, still in her soccer uniform. That uniform did nothing to hide her big breasts. Her dark brown hair had been let out of its pony tail, and fell to her shoulders in long gentle waves. She looked at the two men with startling hazel eyes, that seemed to flicker from green to blue, depending on the light. At first glance, she was stocky looking, short and wide. But a closer examination, and the right clothing, revealed that, below broad shoulders, and breasts that looked too big to be on such a short girl, there was a narrow waist, and then hips that, combined with the shoulders and breasts, were why she looked so stocky.
"Did you break the car, Uncle Dave?" she said, putting her hands on her hips. Both men stared at her. They had stared at her all through the game. Dave stared at her every time she came over to the house, to see his daughter, Cindy, who was apparently still asleep in the car. Dick, her father, had stared at her for years, unbelieving, as she turned from a little girl into a young woman any man would gawk at.
She saw the disgusted look on her "uncle's" face, and realized he was really upset.
"How bad is it?" she asked, serious now.
"Oil," said Dave, shortly.
"Or lack, thereof," said Dick.
"Well, put some more in," said Denise. "I'm hungry."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Dave finished unloading the trunk. He'd found two quarts of oil, amid all the sports gear, old newspapers he'd forgotten to take to the recycling point, the picnic blanket they hadn't used in years, and one very flat spare tire. Thank goodness they didn't need the spare.
He poured the oil in and felt arms go around his waist. His daughter had awakened as they tore the trunk apart, and had been brought up to date by her best friend. She didn't say anything, and he knew she was just trying to make him feel better.
He put the cap back on and then got on one knee, to look under the car. He saw oil start dripping out slowly, and knew what had happened. In the parking lot, after the game, he'd tried to pull forward, through the empty slot in front of the car. He'd forgotten there was a concrete tire barrier, and his forward momentum had carried the car over it. Everyone in the car had heard the crunch and groan of metal impacting concrete, but he'd though it was just the frame.
Turned out it must have been the oil pan.
"We have to go!" he yelled. "It's leaking out! Come on!"
They all piled into the car and he started it. The knocking was there immediately, but he put it in gear and started forward. He wanted to go fast, to get somewhere quickly, but knew that running the motor at slower speeds would do less damage. They were in the middle of nowhere, taking what looked like a shortcut on county roads ... at least it looked like it on the map. He couldn't remember if they'd seen any traffic, but he knew he hadn't passed anybody, or been passed, for quite a while.
Dick yelled, with pent up anxiety, as he saw the sign up ahead.
"Flannery - 1 Mi" it said.
Dick grabbed the map and stuck his nose two inches from it.
"We're on 79, right?" he asked.
Dave nodded, but kept his eyes on the road.
"I don't see any place called Flannery on the map," said Dick.
The knocking intensified, and took on a deeper tone.
"It had better fucking be there," snarled Dave.
"Now, Daddy!" came Cindy's voice, chiding him for cursing. He ignored her.
There was a silo ahead, and a small cluster of buildings. A faded sign said "Flannery - unincorporated", and then there was a railroad crossing sign, and then there was Flannery, which was composed of the grain elevator and seven other buildings. One was a gas station. Dave more or less aimed the car there and winced as he heard things begin to rattle under the hood. As if the motor knew it had done its job ... had gotten them to civilization ... it gasped its last and died with a series of jerks and shimmies that shook the whole car.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
A rotund man in overalls came lumbering toward the group. He had on a ball cap that, at one time, had been red, but was now an indeterminate maroon color, due mostly to grease that had almost covered up the red. He had a rag in one hand, which was also greasy. He used that rag to wipe his hands, frequently. An observer might have noticed that, sometimes, the rag got grease on his hands, instead of cleaning them.
"You folks having some trouble?" he asked. He waved his hand in front of his face to blow away the smoke and fumes that were billowing from under the hood of the car.
"I think I hit something and put a hole in the oil pan," said Dave.
"Hmmmmm," said the man. "You shouldn't have done that."
Dave looked at Dick, who shrugged, as if to say "Well ... he's right."
"Is there a mechanic around here?" asked Dave.
"That would be me," said the man. "I'm Jimmy Joe. Howdy." He stuck out his grease-covered hand.
Dave took it anyway. In a place this small, there couldn't possibly be more than one mechanic, and he didn't want to get off to a bad start with this one.
"Dave Thompson," he said, and then found himself introducing the whole group to the man. He felt stupid, but finished. Jimmy Joe spent extra time examining the girls, and grinned happily as they each gave him two fingers to shake.
"Will she start?" asked Jimmy Joe.
"I sort of doubt it," said Dave. "Key's in it."
Jimmy Joe got in, turned the key and listened as the motor turned over slowly, but didn't catch. He got out again, shaking his head.
"Ain't looking good," he said. "Help me push her over there and I'll do some checking to see how bad it is."
The three men pushed, while Cindy steered, and they ended up in front of the open garage door that was part of the station. Jimmy Joe got a jack and lay on the ground to position it. Then he stood, pumped the handle, and rolled under the car on a creeper. He rolled back out, went to a tool box, made some selections, and rolled back under the car. Ten minutes later he rolled back out, pulling the oil pan with him. It had a white colored scrape on it, with wet oil streaking away from a tear that looked like a crack. He stood up, lifted the pan, and peered inside. Then he stuck a finger inside and wiped along the bottom. He held the finger out for Dave to look at.
"See all that pretty sparkly silver stuff?" he asked. "That's shavings of metal from your motor. They ain't supposed to be in the oil pan."
Dave wanted to scream. Of course metal shavings weren't supposed to be in an oil pan. Any idiot knew that!
Jimmy Joe went blithely on. "The bad news is that your oil pan needs to be replaced. The good news is that there will be a new oil pan on the new motor you're going to have to have."
"Where the hell am I supposed to get a new motor around here!?" yelled Dave, his frustration boiling over.
"I'll call Lester," said Jimmy Joe, unruffled. "He's sort of our parts man in this neck of the woods. He might have something that will fit in your car." Jimmy Joe smiled helpfully. "Course, it will be used and all, but, to be honest, I don't even know where to call to get a brand new motor."
"How long?" asked Dave, preparing himself for more bad news.
"To fix it?" asked Jimmy Joe.
"Uh ... yes," said Dave, his voice tight.
"Well," said Jimmy Joe, looking up into the sky, for some reason, "If Lester's got something, maybe a couple of days."
Dave blinked. That wasn't so bad. He looked at Dick. Dick looked at Jimmy Joe, and then said "Why don't you call Lester, while we talk."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
There wasn't much to talk about. It was obvious they weren't going anywhere real soon, unless they could rent a car. A quick question to Jimmy Joe, while he was on the phone with Lester, determined that wasn't going to happen. The girls had had a little sleep in the car, but were still tired from the rigors of the game, and home was still three hours away. It was getting late, too. Cindy, who had been listening quietly, tugged at her father's shirt sleeve.
"Daddy, there's a motel over there," she said, pointing.
Dave and Dick turned to look. Behind a row of trees was an old style motel, in the shape of an "L", with a row of rooms making the two legs of the L, with the office at the corner. A faded sign stood beside the dirt driveway. The letters could barely be made out, but they said "The Queen's Motor Court" A smaller wooden sign, just as faded, hung under the big one. Dangling from one of two eye hooks, and moving slightly in the breeze, it said "Vacancy". There was one car, parked near the office, but it was rusty and beat up. It could have been there for years, based on the look of things.
"I don't think that's actually open for business," said Dave.
Jimmy Joe waddled back to the group, ogling the girls again, and told them that Lester was pretty sure he could come up with a motor that would fit in the car. He'd know for sure sometime in the morning. They asked him about a rental car again, but he said the only cars in town belonged to people who needed them. He floored them all by suggesting they stay the night at the Queen's Motel, which obviously meant the dilapidated place Cindy had pointed to.
"But I'm hungry now!" moaned Denise
"I've got some candy bars in the station," offered Jimmy Joe. "They ain't too old ... mebbe a couple of months."
"Where are you going to eat?" asked Cindy, turning on the charm.
Jimmy Joe looked at her frankly. "I take my meals with my lady friend, Maggie. I 'spect she'd be a might off her feed if I brang home a bunch of strangers ... specially two girls like you. She might not let me ... I mean she might be mad." He frowned. "Maybe Pops, over at the Queens has something. I know them rooms of his have cookin' stuff in them ... pots and pans and the like. I live there my own self, in one of his rooms. He might have some vittles he can sell you."
"Isn't there a store?" whined Denise.
"Yeah, we got one, but I don't know if Mable will be there or not. She lives upstairs, and there's a bell. You can try that too."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
In the end, there wasn't anything they could do. They had no luggage. Their trip had been intended to be a run up to the game, which was a challenge match between their town soccer team and that of a town in the neighboring state. They were "sister cities", in a program that had started in the nineteen twenties, when one twin sister got married and was taken away by her new groom to live there. The sisters wanted to see each other, so they put on a campaign to have the two towns establish an official, if rarely attended to, relationship.
It was supposed to have been four hours over, play the game, and four hours back. The rest of the team was on a school bus, but Dave and Dick wanted to go see their daughters play, and the girls had ridden with them, instead of on the bus.
The door of the office opened under his hand, and Dave walked in to find an old time desk bell sitting on a dusty desk. He hit it with his palm and it rang loudly.
Nothing happened.
They could hear the sound of a television from back, behind the wall in back of the desk. He rang the bell again, and then again, until he got so frustrated that he started hitting it over and over again. Dick eventually stopped him by grabbing his wrist.
"The TV's too loud. They can't hear you," he said.
Cindy took matters into her own hands by simply walking around the end of the desk and walking through a curtained door in the wall. Dave felt a stab of concern, and started after her. He was almost to the curtain when it moved, and Cindy came back through, followed by a man who looked as decrepit as the motel.
He had to be in his late eighties and if he was in his early nineties neither of the men would have been surprised. He shuffled, rather than walked and oversized hearing aids stuck from both his ears, and Dave heard a high pitched squealing sound as the man fumbled with controls on each one.
"Dint know I had visitors," he wheezed. He smiled, showing startlingly white and even teeth, that had to be dentures. They belonged in the mouth of someone fifty years younger. He shuffled to the desk and stood, looking at them, obviously waiting.
"We need a room," said Dick.
"Room?" asked the man, leaning forward. "Course we got a room. This is a motel!"
"We need a room," said Dick, much louder.
"All right," said the man, as if something important had been decided. He pulled a big cloth covered book in front of him and flipped it open. Dust flew everywhere as the cover slammed down on the desktop. He flipped a couple of pages, until he found one that was only half filled in. With practiced hands, he spun the book in a half circle and pushed it towards Dick.
"Sign in right there," he said.
"Do you have a pool?" asked Cindy.
"Rules?" said the old man, leaning forward again. "Don't disturb the other guests. That's my only rule."
"No," said Cindy. "I asked if you had a swimming pool!"
"Oh, pool!" The man grinned. "They's one out there, but it ain't been filled for quite some time. I'd have to clean it out and all that. How long you folks staying?"
"Two nights," said Dave.
"Tonight?" asked the man, looking disappointed. "If you're only staying tonight, it ain't' really worth all that work."
"No, no!" said Dave, shouting. "Two nights ... maybe!"
"Oh," said the man, fiddling with his hearing aids again. "Damn batteries don't last for shit." He looked up. "I'll try to take a look at it tomorrow. I won't make no promises, though. Even though we're on a well, it would take most of a day to fill her up, so it still might not be worth the trouble."
Dick finished writing in the ledger, and spun it back around. The old man peered at it.
"Just one room?" he asked, looking back at them. "You all's properly married ... right? I don't allow no funny business in my place."
Both men looked shocked, and both girls giggled. Cindy draped herself over her father's right side, hugging him.
"He's my daddy!" she yelled.
The old man peered at her and licked his lips. "Yeah ... right," he said. "Whatever you say. But all of you in the same room?" His eyes gleamed for a few seconds, and there was a half smile on his lips.
Then he shrugged. "Prolly better that way anyhow. I only got one that's nice enough for folks like you. Got a Tee Vee and everything." He smiled proudly. "They's even a cable hooked up, coming from Jimmy Joe's satellite dish."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The room matched the exterior of the motel.
There were four walls with peeling wallpaper, and two beds, of the size that used to be called a double deluxe, which meant they were six inches wider than a double, and about a foot narrower than a queen. You couldn't tell what color the carpet actually was, but that was from age, rather than dust - it had actually been vacuumed in the recent past. Table lamps provided most of the light, through dingy, yellowed shades that, in years past, had probably been white. The television was a 13" color Sylvania set, that had quite possibly come off the assembly line as a movie called Star Wars was taking the country by storm. Only the microwave, on the counter by the sink, still had any shininess to it, but the light inside didn't come on when Cindy pushed the button that opened the door.
Dick, who was in need of bladder relief, discovered that the bathroom held a claw-footed tub, and a toilet that had a huge, round, silver handle on the front of the tank. The mirror was the front of a white-painted metal box on the wall, which swung open to reveal thin metal shelves inside, upon which someone, at some date, far in the past, had left a toothbrush that didn't bend, flex, wiggle, or do anything else that a toothbrush made in the last ten years claimed to do besides simply brush teeth.
But there were no cobwebs, or mouse droppings, or any other signs that the room hadn't been entered in a decade. Even slapping one of the bedspreads didn't raise a cloud of dust, like Dave expected it to.
In short, it was shabby, but clean. While a grown woman would have wrinkled her nose and turned a wrathful eye on the man who had rented this room, the girls who now stood in it thought of it as "quaint", and decided, almost together, that this had turned into an adventure. The men looked around and, like men, figured that if there was a bed, and a TV, that was all they needed.
"Where's the remote?" asked Denise, looking around where the TV was sitting.
They all turned to the old man, who seemed not to have heard her question. She tried again.
"The remote?"
The proprietor grinned. "Course it's remote. We're in the middle of nowhere. But, we have us a nice town here. Don't get too many visitors, but we get by okay. It's nice and quiet."
"No!" said Denise impatiently. "The TV remote!" She pointed at the TV and pantomimed pushing buttons on her palm.
He bobbed his head. "Well, we don't get regular TV way out here. Like I said, we ran a line from Jimmy Joe's satellite dish. You have to watch whatever he's watching, but you all look tired anyway. You prolly just want to get to bed anyway." He leered at the girls and cackled, as if he'd made a joke. Then he turned and shuffled to the door. He walked out, leaving it standing open.
"Deaf as a post," commented Dave. "That's why he thinks it's so quiet around here."
Denise had bent over to peer at the control panel of the television set. Dave stared at her butt. Even in the loose uniform shorts she was wearing, her buttocks looked round and firm. He'd always thought she was going to be a babe, and a heart breaker, as she'd grown up over the years. He felt an uncomfortable sensation in his groin, and looked away as Denise pushed a button on the control panel. That didn't do anything so she twisted something.
The room was suddenly filled with a hissing static sound, and the screen of the TV resolved into snow, on a black background.
"Great," she said, sounding miffed. "Now, where's the channel selector?"
Cindy went to bend over beside her, and Dave was now faced with two sets of female buns. The uncomfortable feeling in his groin intensified. He wondered how he could stare at his own daughter's buttocks and get excited. That was something that had been happening more and more over the last two or three years, as his baby grew into a young woman. He forced his eyes away, looking at Dick, who was staring, not quite slack jawed, at the girls' behinds too. Rather than feeling unhappiness that his best friend was staring at his daughter's ass, Dave felt better, somehow. Maybe he wasn't so perverted after all.
Cindy turned a large dial that had numbers all around its circumference. The sound changed from hissing to the obvious sounds of a woman having an orgasm, and both men jerked and stared past the girls at the screen, which had resolved into a picture of a penis, being shot in extreme close-up, as it slid in and out of a wet pussy.
Both girls stood, and stepped back, looking at the screen interestedly. The scene changed to a wide angle shot of a man, on top of a woman, fucking her like there was no tomorrow. The volume was loud enough that even the motel proprietor could have heard it, and the woman was making it very plain that she wanted it even harder and deeper.
Dick moved first, lunging for the TV and punching buttons like crazy, while he tried to block the screen by waving his hand in front of it. The girls giggled and took another step back.
"Daddy, you're in the way!" complained Denise.
"How the hell do you change the channel?" gasped Dick. He'd already punched three buttons, and nothing had happened. Finally he found the on/off button and the screen shrank to a point of white, on a black background, and then winked off.
"Well, I guess we know what Jimmy Joe likes to watch," giggled Cindy.
"Totally inappropriate!" pronounced Dave, frowning. "I'm sorry you girls had to see that."
"See what?" asked Cindy, grinning. "I couldn't tell for sure what that was. What was that, anyway, Daddy?"
Her father turned his frown on her.
"You know what that was, and you know I don't approve of you seeing that stuff."
Cindy had had her fun, and she tried to look chastened.
"Oh, okay. No harm done. Denise and I already know about the facts of life." Then, like a woman does, she changed the subject. "Now, about food. I'm starving."
Dick stood up, trying to ignore the TV. "Yes!" he said. "I'm hungry too. What say we try to find the store. That mechanic said there's one around here someplace. Hopefully it isn't closed yet."
"You two go ahead," said Denise. "I'm going to lie down. My legs still hurt from the game."
Cindy looked at her friend, one eyebrow going up, and then said: "Yeah, me too. We'll just stay here and rest while our big, strong daddies go out and kill a moose or whatever."
"There isn't a moose within five hundred miles of here," said Dave, looking at his daughter.
"Well then, trap a rabbit or whatever, but your darling daughters are starving, and you're the men of the family, so it's your job to feed us. Go on now," she said, shooing them out of the door. "Go hunt, or gather, or whatever it is you big strong men do."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Cindy stood by the curtain, peeking through it, watching as her father and her "uncle" walked out to the road. "Okay, they're gone now," she said.
She turned to find Denise already turning the TV back on. She found the volume button and twisted it until the noise level went down considerably. The scene they had seen was over, and now there was a shot of a swimming pool, and a young man, with a net on a long stick, walking around it. An "older" woman was sunning herself on a chaise lounge, and was giving the pool boy orders. Among them she ordered him to put sunscreen on her, which he did with great enthusiasm. When he pushed his hands into the top of the woman's swim suit, she pretended to scold him, but did nothing to stop his actions. By the time Dave and Dick had located what they thought was the general store, and were reaching for the door handle, their daughters were excitedly watching the pool boy stripping "the woman of the house" and sliding his impossibly large prick into her well-used pussy.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Dave reached for the door handle, looking at the cardboard sign in the window of the door that said "OPEN" in faded, red, capital letters. As his hand touched the handle, the sign seemed to slide away from him, into the store, and was flipped to reveal "CLOSED" in faded, black, capital letters.
He knocked on the glass, rapidly and urgently, and saw the sign move again. There was part of a woman's face peering out at him.
"Please!" he shouted. "We need food!"
The sign was pulled aside, and two eyes looked out at them. Dave backed up, automatically, to let her see that he was doing so. The sign flopped back down, still reading "CLOSED", but the door opened about five inches.
"We're closed," said the woman's voice.
"Please," said Dave again. "We broke down, and our car's in the shop. We're staying at the motel down the street, and we don't have anything to eat. All we need is some food."
The door opened further, and the face came into view. The woman was blond, but it was pretty clear that wasn't her natural hair color, since it was a brassy yellow color that didn't quite go all the way to the roots.
"You're staying at Pop's place?" she asked, sounding incredulous. "Really?"
"I believe it's called the Queen's Motor Court," said Dick, trying to be helpful.
"Imagine that," said the woman. "Actual paying customers, staying at Pop's!"
She opened the door.
The brassy blond hair was attached to the body of a woman who was just passing her prime. While she still had an hour glass figure, it was a well-padded hour glass figure, and the sand was slipping into the bottom of the hour glass with increasing rapidity. She had generous breasts, and generous hips. In fact, if she weighed a hundred and forty, half of it was tits and hips.
"I'm Mable," she said, her hand going to her hair. The men got the idea she hadn't seen a strange man in years. "You boys just come right in and I'll take care of you." Her eyes went immediately to the third finger of their left hands. She felt a leap of anticipation when she saw both fingers were bare.
Both men got the feeling that "take care of you" meant something different to this woman, than it did to them. Not that she was ugly, or anything, but there was a flavor of aggressiveness about her that promised that, if she got her hooks in a man he would have a hell of a time getting her hooks out of him, should he ever desire to do so.
"You boys traveling alone?" she asked, interest plain in her voice.
"No!" said Dick, a little too quickly, and a little too loudly. He darted a glance at Dave. "The women are at the motel."
"Oh," said Mable, sounding distinctly disappointed. "That's nice." It was obvious she didn't mean that either. She became more business-like immediately. "Well, the weekly truck isn't due until tomorrow, and everybody in town has already done their shopping, so the pickings will be a little slim, but we can find you something."
"Something" turned out to be a can of Spam, two cans of vegetarian vegetable condensed soup, a bag of potato chips, and a dusty can of asparagus. The men also got a half gallon of milk, and a box of Fruit Loops. There was enough beer along one wall to supply a company of thirsty soldiers, and Dave picked up a case, trying to see what the expiration date was on it. It turned out to be the freshest thing in the store.
The people in this town might have been forgotten by the world, or at least the world that didn't deliver goods on trucks that drove through town, but Mable had a shiny, working credit card machine. She rang up their purchases on an antique cash register, that had keys like an old manual typewriter. The keys moved an inch, and made little red and white flags with numbers on them pop up in the window on the front of the machine. When she got a total, she swiped Dave's credit card with an expert twist of her wrist. And punched buttons with the only finger that didn't have an inch long, red, lacquered fingernail on it. It was a little like being in a museum, but they left with enough food to fill four hungry stomachs, even if it was mostly junk food.
"I live upstairs," said Mable, as she walked them to the door, smoothing her dress over her substantial hips. "There's a button beside the door. If you boys need anything ... just push the button. Anything at all..."
Her invitation was obvious, and both men felt a little shiver of dread as they stepped out of the door, hoping they wouldn't have to come back. Mable made the atmosphere predatory, and kept alarm bells ringing as the men stepped away from her. Still, they were stuck in this town, and they might have to return, so Dave forced a smile onto his face.
"Thanks so much," he said. "You've been a life saver, and we really appreciate it."
Her smile showed white teeth. "No problem. Anything at all. I'm right upstairs."
Dave swore she tried to wiggle her breasts at them, and turned to walk quickly away. Dick was right there with him.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
They were twenty yards away when Dick gave a long sigh. "Man, that woman is dangerous!" he said under his breath.
"Ya think?" chuckled Dave. "People sure are friendly in this town." He laughed. "You could be getting your pipes cleaned back there. What are you doing here with me?"
Dick entered the comfortable kind of man-talk easily. "What? I'm hard up. I admit it. But I'm not that hard up!"
Dave grinned. "I don't know," he said. "That's the best offer you've had in ... oh ... at least the last year or so."
"That's the only offer I've had in the last year or so," laughed Dick. "Tell you what. I know you're in the same situation. You're my best friend. I'll back off and let you have her. That's how much our friendship means to me."
It went on like that, as two friends, who often joked this way while they played golf, or fished together, or engaged in any number of other pursuits in which they shared each other's company.
The barbs had gotten around to the general subject of "bed warming" when Dick stopped.
"I just thought of something," he said. Dave stopped and looked at his friend. Dick was frowning. "What do we do about tonight?"
Dave had already thought about that, though he hadn't worked it through in his mind. There had been the faint, quick fantasy of sleeping with Denise, but he had pushed that out of his mind. He owed Dick a lot more than thinking like that. Thinking about sleeping with his own daughter wasn't a whole lot better. Around the house, neither of them were particularly bashful. She often walked around in bra and panties, or just a T shirt and panties, and he often wore his boxers in the evening. When his wife, Trudy, had taken off, leaving him to raise their daughter, they had become survivors together, and grew close in that mind frame. It was them against the world, and they were both proud of being successful at being a one-parent family.
Still, as she developed into a beautiful young woman, Dave couldn't ignore that, and he had feelings for her that he knew were completely inappropriate. He still remembered teaching her to use tampons, and seeing her adolescent pussy, having something inserted in it. Her breasts had just been mere humps then, with unformed strawberry nipples, but her pussy had looked all grown up as the cardboard tube wormed its way inside her. To his father's mind, seeing the tampon being pushed in was like thinking about a boy dumping his sperm in her, and when she took the empty cardboard tube out, and smiled trustingly at him, proud of her success, he had felt awful, staring at those delicious pussy lips, with that string hanging from them. Since then, seeing her walk around half naked was bad enough. He had a pretty good idea that sleeping in the same bed with her would affect him in ways he wouldn't be proud of.
And, there was just no way he could admit to his best friend that he lusted after both girls.
"Maybe it should be you and me in one bed, and them in the other," he offered.
Unknown to Dave, Dick's life was startlingly like that of his best friend. He hadn't had to teach Denise about feminine hygiene. Valerie, her mother, had taken care of that, on one of her infrequent visits from corporate headquarters, where she was a rising star. That's why she wouldn't marry him, when he knocked her up. She had plans, and they didn't include being a full time mother. She'd agreed to have the baby, and to put his name on the birth certificate, so he wouldn't have to adopt her, and she visited, once in a while, and sent cards on special days, but that was it.
One other difference was that there wasn't the same casual attitude about half nudity in their house. Denise always went fully covered, and he wore a robe, but even so, his daughter's lush body hadn't escaped his notice either. It was, perhaps, for that reason, that he tended to concentrate on Cindy, his best friend's daughter. It didn't feel so bad lusting after her, with her corn-silk hair, and slim, but still feminine body. He loved having her in the house, or being at their house, because he got to see those spiky nipples of hers poking through whatever she was wearing. In bed, alone at night, he had a hard time deciding which one to think of as he flogged his log to get relief. Like Dave, he knew that, if he slept with his daughter, unwelcome thoughts would make sleep difficult. If he slept with Cindy, he might actually cum in his shorts.
And, like Dave, he couldn't very well admit any of that to his best friend.
"I guess so," he agreed. "That would probably work out best."
Had either man been able to hear what was going on in the motel room, he might have thought differently.
Chapter Two
A new movie had started on Jimmy Joe's porn station. It was called Sock Her Balls Tournament. They had laughed uproariously as women who had to be in their mid twenties, but were acting the parts of High School girls, pranced around on a soccer field, trying to kick a ball, while their fathers, who could only be five or six years older than the women, talked about how hard high school was for their daughters, and about how worried they were for their daughters' virtues. All the shots of the women playing "soccer" were of tits and butts and hair flying. The men, while they talked about their "high school soccer stars" all had to rub big bulges in their crotches, for some reason.
Cindy and Denise were almost in tears, laughing so hard, but stopped as one father began to massage his daughter's "aching legs" after the game, in the privacy of their own home. When "Daddy" suggested that her uniform was in the way, she coyly removed it, along with her sports bra and panties, for some reason, and lay down on the bed.
It was obvious where this was going. Denise and Cindy had seen three different pricks fucking three different pussies since their fathers had gone to find something to eat. Now, as "Daddy's" prick slipped out of his robe, right in front of "daughter's" eyes, and the "daughter" licked her lips, Cindy reached out and twisted the off button.
"Oh my gosh this is just awful!" squealed Cindy, as she did so.
"Hey!" complained Denise.
"I can't watch that!" said Cindy. She was flushed. "I used to sleep in the same bed as my Daddy!"
"You did!?" squealed Denise. "You never told me that!"
"It was a long time ago," said Cindy, waving her hand carelessly. "He made me start sleeping in my own bed when I started having periods." She shifted uncomfortably in her uniform. Her nipples were tingling, and she wished she could take her sports bra off and pinch them. She hated bras, and only wore one during games, going without, the rest of the time, if she could get away with it.
Denise had a far-away look in her eyes, which Cindy knew well. Denise had three boys on a string. She let them play, but not much. Only touching of breasts was allowed. The same was true of Cindy, except that her just-broken-up-with boyfriend had bragged to his friends that she'd let him do a lot more. When she found out, she dumped him, and then told him why. He'd accused her of being frigid, and she'd cut him off at the knees. "I am looking for a nice hard prick," she'd said sweetly, leaning toward him. "but not one shaped like you!"
Because the girls routinely discussed their love lives, and because they were one-for-both and both-for-one, they agreed to adopt the same rules, when it came to boys. They had, when they were both thirteen, sworn to have a double marriage, hopefully to identical twins, and go on their honeymoons together, to lose their virginities side-by-side. It had been a wild and hormone-driven dream, at the time, as they masturbated together in Cindy's bedroom, during one of their almost weekly sleepovers.
Since then, of course, common sense had put that oath on a very back burner. Both girls remembered it fondly, but didn't expect it to really play out anymore.
But, because both girls routinely discussed their love lives, both girls had, at one time or another, expressed how much they thought of each other's fathers. "Uncle Dave" and "Uncle Dick" were the coolest fathers on the planet, and both, according their "nieces" were hunky hotties too. Of course both squealed and disagreed with each other routinely about that designation, but both were secretly proud that the other thought her father was handsome. Both girls thought their fathers were handsome too.
"I know what you're thinking," said Cindy, seeing the look on her best friend's face. "You can't have him. He's mine."
Denise's eyes cleared, and her eyebrows rose. "But I thought you didn't want to see that!" she said, pointing to the TV.
"He's not mine that way!" said Cindy, blushing. "But you can't have him that way either!"
"Oh, come on," sighed Denise, seeing a way to needle her friend. "He doesn't have a girlfriend, and he's not sleeping with you anymore." She grinned.
"Oh yeah?" said Cindy, rising to the bait. "So how would you feel if I let your father do that to me?" She pointed to the TV too.
"Mmmmm," said Denise, suddenly feeling her own nipples begging for attention. "That would be so naughty."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Dave and Dick approached their room. The door was still open. Both were sweating from their walk in the heat, though, and just thought the girls had left the door open to air out the room. They hadn't said anything to each other for the last hundred yards or so, just walking amiably in silence. It was for that reason, and the fact that Cindy had turned off the TV, that they were able to hear the girls talking, as they approached the open door.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Knock it off," said Cindy, frowning. "Don't tease me like that. You know I just broke up with Randy. At least you still have John and Nick and Ted to play with your nasty little nipples!"
Denise knew she'd gotten the better of her friend, and backed off.
"I know, and I'm sorry about that. Randy was a jerk."
"Are you sorry enough to loan me Ted?" asked Cindy, feeling better. "You said he plays with your nipples extra good."
"No," said Denise immediately. "But, unlike you, I'd share my Daddy with you." She grinned.
Cindy spoke too loudly. "I can't believe you! You have three boys to play with your titties, and you still want to sleep with my father!?"
Denise was unrepentant. "I said I'd share my father with you too! Don't take it out on me just because Randy claimed to have gotten your cherry!" She bored on in. "And you're the one who shut off that movie. I think you have the hots for your own Daddy!"
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Both men stood stock still, jaws drooping, shocked to their cores by what they were hearing.
Dick felt a welling up of anger that three boys were allowed, according to Cindy's rant, to feel up his baby girl's sweet breasts! Then his daughter's offer to "share" him with Cindy, thundered into his brain, exploding like fireworks.
Dave, hearing that the luscious young girl who was his daughter's best friend, and his own favorite fantasy, wanted to sleep with him, had much the same effect on his own brain. The added information that some boy had tried to deflower his sweet daughter ... and had failed ... made something swell inside of him that threatened to make his body limp. His arms tightened reflexively on the paper bag in them, and the paper crackled.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Don't go there!" said Cindy, her voice loud. "Just because we talk about each other's fathers doesn't mean we should do something about it!"
"Hey!" said Denise. "I just thought of something!"
"Probably my Daddy's penis!" snorted Cindy.
"I'm serious!" said Denise. "There are only two beds."
There was a pregnant pause.
"Oh my gosh!" said Cindy, explosively. "You're right!"
"Looks like you get to sleep with your Daddy again after all," said Denise's voice, heavy with innuendo.
"I can't do that!" moaned Cindy.
"I knew it!" squealed Denise. "You do have the hots for your own father! You are sooo wicked!"
"It's not like that!" insisted Cindy. "I loved sleeping with him, back when I was little. He was so warm, and he smelled so good. I felt safe!"
"I know what you mean," said Denise. "I used to fall asleep, lying on the couch while we watched TV. Daddy would carry me up to bed. I loved that. He felt so strong. I always wished he'd put me in his bed, but he never did."
"Really?" asked her friend. "I thought I was the only one who felt like that."
"I'm sorry I teased you," said Denise, again best friend to her best friend. "What are we going to do? We have to all sleep somewhere."
"I don't know," said Cindy. "I think it would be better to sleep with my own father, than yours. Thinking about sleeping with yours makes me want to rub."
"I know that!" said Denise. "I might attack Uncle Dave if I have to sleep with him."
"Don't lie!" said Cindy. "We're both virgins and we're both staying virgins until we're married!"
"I know," said Denise, her voice easy. "But it sure would be fun to sleep with a man ... you know ... just to see what it's like. I mean there wouldn't have to be anything like what was on TV, or anything. But it would be hot!" There was a pause, and Denise spoke again. "Tell the truth! Would you rather sleep with your Daddy, or my Daddy?"
"My Daddy!" said Cindy. "No! Your Daddy! ... Oh ... I don't know. Okay, I admit it! I have feelings for both of them. There! Are you happy now?"
"In that case," said Denise, her voice heavy with emotion, "I don't mind admitting that the thought of sleeping with my daddy makes me want to rub too. Maybe you and I had better sleep together. At least you can't get me pregnant."
"Denise!" squealed Cindy.
There were giggles and the sound of soft thuds, as each girl grabbed a pillow and started an impromptu pillow fight.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Dave felt Dick's hand on his sleeve, pulling, and he stumbled backwards, his frozen legs reacting to being off balance. Dick took him back towards the road, and closer to the building.
"What the fuck do we do now?" he asked. He was panting.
"Oh, man," said Dave, his mouth dry. "Did you know any of that?"
"Fuck no, I didn't know any of that!" gasped Dick. "My little girl lets three boys play with her tits?!"
"At least my baby is still a virgin," sighed Dave, reaching for what comfort he could find in the situation.
"They both are," said Dick, feeling relief course through his body as he centered on that fact.
Dave turned to his best friend, his face frozen. "My daughter wants to sleep with you!"
Dick, still off kilter by what he'd heard, knew this was a dangerous situation. He grasped at the first defense that came to mind. "She wants to sleep with you too, from the sounds of it." His face twisted. "My daughter wants to sleep with me!"
Dave couldn't deny that. He hadn't had time to process that information. When he did, his world would flip flop all over the place, and his blood pressure would go up thirty points. But right now all he could think of was that this was an untenable situation.
"What the fuck do we do?" he asked, helplessly.
"We can't sleep with them." Dick's voice sounded shaky. "Either of them."
"Right!" said Dave, feeling some grasp of sanity returning. "We have to go with our original plan. Us in one bed, and them in another."
"Right!" said Dick.
Both men grasped at the only plan they could come up with to put some sanity back in the situation.
"We'd better get in there," said Dave.
"Yeah," agreed Dick. "They might wonder where we are and come looking for us. We wouldn't want them to see us just standing here."
Anyone who would have seen the two men huddling in front of a motel room door ... that wasn't to their room ... would have assumed they were up to no good. No one was watching them, though, and when they moved, both attempted to do something to warn the girls they were coming. Unfortunately, both men's minds were centered on things sexual, so what Dick came up with was probably not the best thing to use.
"What a piece of work!" Dick almost yelled, as they approached the open door of their room. "That woman should be put on a leash!"
Dave caught on immediately. "What you said, buddy!" he said, as if Pops and his squealing hearing aids was trying to listen in. "We're lucky to have gotten out of there with our pants on!"
They stumbled into the room, wide-eyed and pale, to find Denise sitting on one bed, and Cindy standing by the sink. Both girls were staring at the men.
"What happened?" asked Cindy.
"What?" gasped Dave. His eyes took in his daughter's young, healthy appearance, and his mind's eye saw her naked body, struggling with that of a young man her age, as that young man tried to skewer her pretty pussy with his adolescent prick. He tore his eyes away from her to look at Denise, who was sitting on the bed, as if she were waiting for him to come undress her and take her to bed. He looked at the ceiling in self-defense.
"What were you talking about?" asked Denise. "What woman?"
Dick was doing exactly the same thing that Dave was doing. His eyes went first to Cindy, tall and slim, her eyes looking back at him, and he thought of what it would be like to lie in bed with her. He tore his eyes away from her to rest on his daughter, who let boys play with her naked nipples. His eyes went to her breasts, and he looked away, also in self-defense.
"At the store!" he blurted. "Woman ... sold us things ... very forward!"
Denise frowned. The idea of some woman trying to put the make on her father suddenly made her feel unhappy.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Neither girl, of course, had any idea that their conversation had been overheard. They, therefore, tried to act just like they would have if the situation were completely normal.
Except the situation wasn't completely normal. It wasn't anywhere near normal ... for any of them.
The men fumbled around, inordinately proud of the skimpy provisions they had obtained. The girls looked at the "feast", and wanted to laugh at their fathers for being so proud. They didn't. Instead they teased them.
"This is dinner?" asked Cindy, holding up the can of Spam in one hand, and the bag of chips in the other. "We're growing girls, not cattle, to be fattened up!"
"It was the best we could do," whined her father. He had been trying to focus on dinner, instead of on what he'd heard them saying.
"Adapt, improvise, overcome!" said Dick pompously, trying to do the same thing. He didn't look at either girl as he went on. "We're in strange circumstances here. Nobody planned this. You should be glad there's anything to eat at all, in this dump!"
"I know, Daddy," said his daughter, who bounded up off the bed to hug him. "Thank you."
Dick froze as his daughter's soft breasts pressed into his chest, and her arms went around his neck. Boys had played with those breasts. That was all he could think of. At least until his brain notified him that his prick was stiff. With complete shock, he wondered how long he'd been like that, and if it showed. He moved his butt backwards, trying not to let his daughter feel it.
"Me too, Daddy," chimed in Cindy, hugging her own father tightly. "We won't be picky."
What leapt into Dave's mind was her comment "I have feelings for them both. Okay? Are you happy now!?" While he didn't feel her breasts, his body still realized she was young, female and beautiful. Her hair smelled wonderful too, and he realized that he was erect too.
The dating scene had been …unproductive … for both men for the last few years. Dave had even joined an internet dating site, but that had been a disaster. It had been a long time for both men, and they were basically helpless as their libidos switched into high gear. The car's motor might be toast, but their motors were working just fine.
"Well ... fix dinner, then!" blurted Dave, ducking his head to get out of his daughter's grasp.
The girls, not through being properly thankful, turned to hug their "uncles" too.
"Yes," breathed Denise into Dave's chest, as her breasts mashed against him. "Thank you, Uncle Dave."
"Thank you," said Cindy, wrapping her arms around Dick. "We know you guys did the best you could."
Both men had relaxed, as their daughters left them. Neither was prepared to be embraced by the other girl. Both men had rampant boners, by this time, and both girls felt them plainly as they pressed their young bodies against the men. Both girls had felt that kind of lump being pressed against them before, in a car, or on a dance floor at school. Both girls were clearly aware of what that lump meant, pressing against their abdomens.
And both girls thought that those lumps were for them.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
It was strangely quiet in the motel room, as the girls disengaged themselves from their "uncles" and went to the counter. Both girls wished that the men weren't there, so they could tell the other what had happened ... what they had felt. Both girls were, at the same time, excited and a little unnerved. It was one thing to talk about being attracted to these two men. It was something completely different to feel the evidence of sexual arousal in them. Boys got that way all the time, but their dads had boners, too? Both girls were so shocked by that arousal, that neither of them took the time to wonder why that arousal was there, so suddenly.
As for the men, they were still trying to process information that had turned the world upside down. It was one thing to fantasize about doing things with their best friend's daughter. It was something else again to find out that the girls had the same, or at least similar fantasies.
Dave, his mind moving at a hundred miles an hour, reacted by habit, and turned the TV back on. The volume was lower, but the action was about the same as it had been when the TV was last on. In this case, it was an outdoor scene, where a woman was in a carriage, and the driver was between her legs, with her skirt up. She was calling him a filthy commoner, and had her legs wrapped firmly around his waist as he thrust repeatedly into her.
Dave groaned, twisted the channel changer to the right, and got snow. He kept twisting, until he was treated to the carriage driver cumming on the lady's pubes. He cranked the off button viciously.
Oddly, it was the kind of thing that broke the tension, at least for the girls. Cindy tittered.
"That Jimmy Joe sure has lusty tastes," she said, laughing. "I just hope he's as good at fixing cars as he is at watching porn."
Denise giggled, and both men sighed in frustration. With only one chair, the men had to sit on a bed.
Sitting on a bed didn't help at all, since it brought to mind sleeping with one of the girls. Watching your best friend sit on a bed wasn't much better, for the same reason.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
It was beginning to get dark outside by the time the meal was ready. Dick had located an air conditioner panel, in a long box under the picture window, and had coaxed the unit into a wheezing attempt to cool the room a bit. The air blowing from the louvers was cooler than the outside air, but not much. Everybody was sweating as they ate.
"So..." Cindy broke the silence. "Who sleeps where?"
Dave cleared his throat and looked closely at the Spam on his fork.
"Dick and I will take that one," he said, pointing to the bed closest to the door. "You two can have the other one."
"Okay," said the girls in tandem. Their faces gave nothing away, but the men knew what they were likely thinking. There was a sense of relief all around.
"We didn't pack anything to change into," said Denise.
Nobody had thought of that yet.
"You can wear my shirt," said Dick.
"Your stinky shirt?" asked his daughter, making a face.
"It's all I've got," said her father, impatiently. "If you want, you can sleep in your uniform, instead!"
"It's all stinky too," said Denise. "I'll take your shirt."
"I have a shirt in the trunk." said Dave. "I put it there in case I have to change a tire or something like that. It's stained, but clean."
"Okay," said Cindy, sounding unconcerned.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
What was most awkward, after they finished their meager repast, was the fact that the things they usually did in the evening hours were not available to do. Television appeared to be out, unless Jimmy Joe changed the channel, which he apparently was loathe to do. There were no books, or games. It was summer, so there was no homework. Dave would have given ten dollars for a crossword puzzle book that they could all work on together, but he hadn't thought to ask Mable for one.
Basically, they all had nothing to do, and long hours ahead of them before they went to bed. And thinking about going to bed didn't calm anyone down.
Physically, the girls were in better shape than the men in terms of the heat, which the struggling air conditioner valiantly worked against, but with almost no success. It turned out that they were better off with the door to the room open, than closed, but they let the AC run anyway. The girls were wearing their soccer uniforms, which were loose, and made to breathe. The men were stuck in slacks and shirts, which were loose to some degree, but didn't breathe all that well. Had they all been home, they'd have gotten more comfortable. But they weren't home.
"Anybody want to go for a walk?" asked Dave, breaking the silence.
"May as well," said Denise. "There's nothing else to do around here."
They set out to discover the secrets of Flannery. Half an hour later they were still looking for something remotely interesting. There was a coin operated Laundromat, the store, the gas station, twenty-one houses, three dogs that barked at them, and two that did not, and, attached to the grain elevator, a farm store that had windows so dirty they couldn't see inside. The only thing that made any impact at all were the dozens of rusty old cars, parked helter skelter, that the men were mildly interested in, because they were so old.
"Thank our lucky stars we're not from here," sighed Cindy, her feet dragging in the dust. The girls were wearing tennis shoes that they'd brought along, so they wouldn't have to wear their cleats in the car. "I'd simply die of boredom if I lived here. I wonder what these people do for fun?"
"Sex," said Dave, without thinking about it first. It was what had been on his mind as he watched the girls hips sway in front of him as they all walked along. He flushed bright red as both girls turned to give him a speculative look. "Small towns are famous for it," he said weakly.
They were walking back toward the motel, passing a row of houses.
"I wonder which one is where Jimmy Joe's lady friend lives," said Denise. "I wonder what she looks like."
"Why on earth would you want to know that?" asked her father.
"I don't know," said Denise, pouting a little. "He creeps me out a little bit. What kind of woman would want to be his girlfriend?"
"That's unkind," said Dick firmly. "Everybody deserves love in this world. I thought I taught you that."
"I know," she moaned. "But you have to admit ... it would take a special kind of woman to want to..." She trailed off. Then, feeling everyone looking at her, she added " ... you know ... kiss him or something."
"You mean a hard up one," said Cindy, grinning.
"Cindy!" warned her father.
"Okay, okay," she said, turning around, and walking backwards. "How come you don't have a girlfriend, Daddy?" she asked. "I go on dates all the time and you never do."
Her mention of dates brought back the image of her boyfriend - ex boyfriend, thank goodness - trying to get between her legs. Dave pushed that image out of his mind by remembering the last woman he'd dated. Her name had been Helen, and she'd wanted a husband - bad!
"The women I've met all want to get married," he said. "I'm a little gun-shy about that. Besides, another woman in the house would be a bad idea."
"Oh really!" said his daughter, her tone dangerous.
Denise turned around and walked backwards too. It caused her breasts to bounce under her jersey.
"I had no idea we women were such a pain," she said. "Is that true, Daddy? Is that why you don't date either?"
"How would you feel if I brought some strange woman home and said "Hey cutie, meet your new mother!" said Dick.
Denise frowned.
"I thought so," said her father. "All I need is a rebellious teenager in the house, and a new woman, who wants to take everything over and change it all."
The girls wouldn't leave it alone, though. Their own sexual tension was higher than normal, and maybe that's why Cindy said what she did.
"But don't you get horny?"
"What?!" choked Dave.
"Every boy I know is horny all the time," said his daughter, used to being able to talk to him about anything. Had she known he'd heard her talking to Denise, she wouldn't have said it. Both girls thought their fathers had no sexual thoughts at all, much less about them. "Don't you get horny too?"
"I do not want to have this conversation," moaned Dave. Denise, who didn't talk to her dad nearly as often, or as intimately as this, couldn't make up her mind whether it was more interesting to stare at her best friend, or at her Uncle Dave.
"Why not?" asked Cindy, missing the pain in his voice. "We've talked about boys before."
"Oh we have, have we?" asked Denise, interest plain in her voice.
"Sure," said Cindy, impatiently. "He tells me what to watch out for, and how to handle boys. You know that."
"Oh you do?" asked Dick, staring at his daughter.
Now Denise was on the spot.
"We're best friends," she said carelessly. "We talk about everything. I can't remember all of it." She turned to Cindy. "I don't remember you telling me that your father told you how to handle boys!"
"Remember?" said Cindy, completely unaware that she was digging them deeper and deeper into a hole. "I told you what to do if a boy got too feisty?"
"Oh that?" asked Denise. "You didn't tell me Uncle Dave told you that."
"I didn't?" Cindy sounded doubtful. "Well he did. And I shared it with you, like always. Daddy and I talk about everything, and I always share it with you."
"What exactly do you do if a boy gets ... feisty?" asked Dick, his voice dry.
His daughter beamed at him. "You knee him in the balls, just as hard as you can," she said calmly.
Dick bent forward, reflexively, as if he'd just been kneed in the balls.
"Not that I've ever had to do that," said Denise, carelessly. "I can usually defuse things before it gets to that point."
"I don't want to have this conversation either," moaned Dick.
"And by the way, Daddy?" said Denise, some heat in her voice. "How come you never told me how to handle boys? Don't you care what happens to me?" Her voice rose on the last word.
"Of course I care!" he blurted. "I just didn't think that you let boys ... I mean I didn't think things would get that far..." He wanted to turn around, like the girls, and walk backwards too, just so he wouldn't feel the weight of their eyes on him. He couldn't do that, though. Anger gave him words. "You don't need to be dating if it comes to that!" he barked.
Denise stiffened, and turned back around. She stalked down the road, speeding up. Cindy chased after her, and their heads were close together as they talked.
"If your daughter is anything like my daughter, you're in big trouble," said Dave. He thought it was funny, but didn't smile.
"Did you really tell her that?" asked Dick.
"Sure," said Dave. "She's got to know what to do."
"I never thought about it quite like that," said Dick. "I guess I didn't think about it at all."
"Well, based on what we heard, you'd better start thinking about it," said Dave. "I need to think about it some more too. I think we're both in big trouble here, come to think about it."
"Why?" asked Dick. "They won't do anything with us. That's crazy!"
"I agree completely," said Dave. "But the fact is they're thinking about it. What did you do when you were their age, when you thought about sex?"
"I tried to have it!" said Dick. He looked shocked. "Oh, fuck me to tears!" he moaned.
"Maybe it isn't as bad as we think," said Dave, feeling the same panic. The thought that his daughter was thinking about sex just about paralyzed him. He knew it shouldn't ... knew it was normal. Well not if it was about him and Dick ... but ... His thoughts got all jumbled up at that point. "They said they're still virgins," he said, reaching for anything to help him feel better. "Cindy said it like they had a pact or something ... to wait until they got married."
"Did you wait until you got married?" asked Dick.
"Well ... no ... but..." Dave ran out of words there.
"What are we gonna do?" moaned Dick. "Do you really talk to her about anything?"
"We always have," said Dave, grasping at what was normal. "I never talked to her about anything like they were talking about, though. I just told her to save her virginity for a man she really loved. I thought that was enough."
"Maybe we should talk to them about this," said Dick, grasping at the idea like it was a life raft.
"What do you mean?" asked Dave. "This" covered a lot of territory.
"You know ... We're stuck here so we have time to talk to them about what they were talking about ... about how that's not a good way to think ... about us, I mean."
"How the hell are we going to do that?" asked Dave. "Are we just supposed to say 'Hey, darlings, we sort of thought you might get the crazy idea to have sex with us, and that's not a great idea, so stop thinking about it!' ... that's the craziest thing I ever heard!"
Dick looked glum. "Yeah, I guess you're right. Let's just get through tonight, get the car fixed, and get back home. Maybe we can work things out there."
Chapter Three
Back in the motel room, the girls asked for their father's shirts, and disappeared into the bathroom. When they came out, the men both stifled groans.
Dave's T shirt came to Cindy's mid thighs. It was pulled down tightly, and her modest breasts pushed her immodest nipples through the cloth so much that it looked like the cloth might tear from the strain. They were so erect that they'd already stretched the fabric, and it hugged the sides of them, making them look eminently suckable.
Dick's button-down shirt had tails on it, which hung low on Denise's front and back, but rode up high on her hips. No panties were visible, and both men thought it went high enough that panties should be visible ... if she was wearing them. Her olive complexion, gotten from her mother, made the shirt look thin. Two dark circles were visible through it where her ample breasts pushed it away from her chest.