Lusty young man gets off with best friend, then fucks mother.
" He said, half smiling.
I smiled too. So awkward! But at least I was sure he wouldn't say anything to mom.
Then he took off his gym shirt and put it in the hamper beside the washing machine.
OMG! I hadn't seen my dad with his shirt off in years, back on one of those vacations to Florida, long before his fitness kick. This recent working out fanaticism was really showing. Solid chest, defined arms, a six pack! Dad was 6 feet tall, short black hair with flecks of grey. Lately he had taken to only shaving once or twice a week, and the stubble look fit him. With the muscles and stubble, he looked a bit like Hugh Jackman.
I felt warm. I felt wetness between my legs, spreading to my cut-off jean shorts.
I'm getting turned on by my own father? No, just...no! But...
He walked past me and I took a deep breath of his odor...musk...male.
I started my laundry, trying not to think about what I was thinking about.
I heard dad go into the downstairs bathroom and turn on the shower. There he was, so close, nude, wet, muscular...
I ran, literally, upstairs to my bedroom. I took my sweatshirt and shorts off as fast I possibly could, and lay naked on my bed, left hand pinching my nipples while my right hand went straight to my clit, rubbing it as fast and as hard as I could manage. I could picture him in the shower. Was he touching himself too? What if I went down there, and just got in with him?
The Big O hit me. The wave started in my toes and shot up to my vag. I moaned, louder than I wanted to, but I'm sure he couldn't hear me anyway. And if he did?
I just laid there for a while, trying to recover. No, that wasn't the first time I had done that, but it was by far the most intense. But if it was this great by myself, I bet it's even better with partner. Who's a girl's best partner?
I had to make this happen.
The next morning at a little before 4 AM, I heard dad getting ready to head out to the gym. "It's now or never, Jess." I said to myself, under my breath. I checked myself one last time in the mirror. Black track pants that were just tight enough in the rear to look nice, pink thong sticking out of the waist just enough to be noticeable, tight black belly shirt, no bra (Not that I really needed one anyway) black track jacket to cover everything up until it was time.
I ran downstairs, trying to contain my nervousness. I caught up to dad just as he was heading out the door.
"I'm going to the gym with you!" I managed to eke out, despite trembling all over. Dad smiled. I think he was happy to have me go along.
We got into the car for the short drive to the gym. I know we were talking but I cannot remember anything that was said or even the drive there. We got out and dad swiped the key card on the front gym door to get us in.
Good. It was deserted. God, I was so nervous.
I pretended like I was stretching, but I was really waiting to see what dad was going to do. He went towards the back of the gym and started working on the bench press machine. Good again, because it was further away from the front windows. I walked back to the last treadmill, almost directly in front of dad, about 10 feet away. I started running lightly. There were mirrors covering the walls, and I could watch him from where I was. I could see him benching those weights, getting all pumped up and sweaty...
I couldn't wait any more. Time to make my move.
I took off my track jacket, exposing my little belly shirt and strategically placed pink thong. I checked the mirror for dad's reaction. Nothing. He was too busy lifting.
I faked a stumble, making sure to play it up with a lot of noise. That did it! I caught dad in the mirror, looking at me, surely noticing the thong and how nice my bottom looked in those track pants. He was staring right at me. He stood up to change the weights; I could tell he was getting stiff in his gym shorts.
I made another show of stopping and getting off the treadmill.