Kelsey rolled out of bed and looked out her window at the pouring rain, the first gloomy day since she'd moved home. It seemed fitting, since her Jeep was broken. It had run poorly for a few hours the day before, and then wouldn't start. When it happened she called her father at work, he called the dealer that sold it to him and a tow truck was sent for it. The tow truck driver seemed happy to drive Kelsey home. It might have had something to do with the tiny bikini she was wearing. "No extra charge. I'd be happy to," he said, looking her over. She couldn't tell which eye he was looking at her with because they pointed in different directions. He was missing a few teeth, and the ones he had were tobacco stained. He was reasonably harmless.
Kelsey rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, pulled a terrycloth robe on over her bare skin and went downstairs for a cup of coffee. Kay was at the kitchen table reading the morning paper. She hadn't bothered with a robe.
"Aren't you cold?" Kelsey asked.
"Not really, Honey," Kay said.
Kelsey poured a cup of hot coffee and sat down with her mother.
"That was so fun last night," Kay said. "Your dad was quiet about it this morning, but I know he loved it. I haven't seen that look on his face in years."
"Really?" Kelsey asked quietly, her mouth curling into a little smile.
"He always looks happy when he cums, but yeah, that was definitely big for him I think."
Kelsey took her first sip from the steaming mug and thought back on how the evening had gone...
Brie had offered to pick her up if she wanted to go out, but Kelsey decided to stay home with her parents for a quiet night watching another French movie on DVD. Kay picked most of the movies, and they were almost always sexy in one way or another. The one they'd watched was particularly steamy — a man meets two sisters who are twenty years younger than him, and they go on a week-long road trip leaving his wife behind.
After the movie Kelsey confessed that she'd been writing stories for a few years. They'd started coming to her when she watched Tucker coming up with little storylines for the porn scenes they were shooting at the studio. In Kelsey's down time from work and school she'd jot down her own ideas, which quickly turned into a relaxing hobby of writing short stories. Filthy, dirty, sexy short stories. She didn't do it often, but when one came to her she couldn't rest until she'd gotten it down on paper.
Kay and Bobby were intrigued by Kelsey's new hobby, and asked her to tell them a bedtime story. She brought her notebook to their room and climbed onto the bed with them. It was cool and drizzly outside, so Kay pulled a sheet over their naked bodies. Bobby was in the middle and put his arms around his two girls. Kelsey began to read.
It was a story about a college girl on a bicycle, riding along the towpath of the old Erie Canal. The tire on her bike went flat, and she noticed a house through the woods. A man was splitting firewood in his backyard, wearing shorts and work boots. He had gray hair on his chest, and his muscles glistened from the work. The girl startled him when she walked out of the woods carrying her bike. He fixed her tire, they drank Utica Club beer from cans, they kissed, their clothes came off, etc. etc.
When Kelsey finished the story Bobby's cock was fully hard. Kay's hand had been under the sheet stroking it ever since the story had heated up. Kelsey was thrilled of course, that her little story had elicited that kind of response from her first audience.
After Bobby and Kay praised Kelsey for her storytelling abilities, a sexy silence fell over the room. The only sounds were the spatter of rain on the windows and the soft rustle of Kay's hand under the sheet, still slowly working on Bobby. Kelsey was suddenly overcome with warmth, like she'd had a transfusion of blood that was ten degrees warmer than her own. Her hand went to the top of the sheet. She felt her mother's fingers moving underneath, and then the heat and hardness of her father's cock. Kay's finger's retreated, just a few inches, to massage Bobby's balls, leaving Kelsey's warm hand on her father's hard shaft, with the thin cotton sheet between them.
Kelsey knew what his hard cock looked like. She'd seen it many times. The first few times were from the third floor window when she was younger, looking down on her parents orgies by the pool, and more recently at the parties she'd been invited to. But she'd never touched it. Putting the feel together with the visual was magical.
Her fingers encircled the hard warmth, stroking it slowly and gently. Bobby groaned as he came. Kelsey watched as the cum made wet spots on the sheet. There was more than she thought there'd be, and the stickiness oozed through the fabric onto her slowly stroking hand. Bobby's eyes were closed and his face looked beautiful.
When he started to soften Kelsey left him to her mother's still playful hand. She kissed them both on the forehead, picked up her notebook and said goodnight to them. Bobby and Kay both looked blissful when Kelsey left them to go to her room.
"Was he sexy when you first met him?" Kelsey asked after another sip of her morning coffee.
"Your father? Oh, yes," Kay said. "I mean not like now, but yes, he was. Nineteen-year-olds have a different way about them though. I always thought older men were sexier."
"Yeah, me too," Kelsey said, thinking about the professor she had an affair with at school, Brie's father Brian, and Tucker and Dave at the studio.
Kelsey's phone rang and vibrated on the table. Her Jeep was fixed. No charge, the man said.
"Oh good, Honey!" Kay said. "Your father said the man who runs the place is really nice. I'll get dressed and bring you over. He's just on the other side of town."
—
Koop's Crawlers
was the name on the sign. It hung above the door of a building that used to be a gas station, probably built back in the thirties. An antique globe-top gas pump stood next to the door. Jeeps were everywhere, with a few old Ford Bronco's and a pickup truck or two mixed in for variety. John Kooper was the proprietor's name. All his friends called him Koop. He specialized in vintage Jeeps, some of them hard-core rock crawlers for off road use only. He was under a Jeep that was up on the shop's lift when Kelsey walked in. He bumped his head when he saw her, standing there in her favorite green bikini top and faded Levi's. She hated wearing long pants in the summertime, but the day was cool and drizzly.
"You must be Kelsey," Koop said. "It was the ignition coil. Easy fix. Sorry you got stranded, but these old engines can be more finicky than new cars. Not bad, but stuff like a bad coil can sneak up on you."
"You all set, Honey?" Kay yelled from her car window.
"Yeah, Mom," Kelsey yelled. "Thanks."
Kay waved and drove away.
"So what's a coil do?" Kelsey asked Koop.
"Oh, well, it takes an electrical charge from the battery, twelve volts, and it converts it, sort of like a transformer, up to thirty-thousand volts. It's what makes the juice that makes your spark plugs spark." Koop rummaged in the trash. "Here's your old one. Nothin' much to it. Not too expensive. There's no charge for you of course. Your father only bought Old Red a couple weeks ago."
"So where's it go?" she asked, looking up at the undercarriage of the Jeep above her head.
"Oh. It's up on top. Here, I'll show you."
Koop walked over to an old Willys Jeep from the forties that another man was working on. He pointed under the hood to the coil.
"Right there," Koop said. "It's usually near the distributor. That's the thing with all the wires coming out of the top of it."
