"-Pass me the wrench?"
"This one?"
"No, the small one. -Thanks."
Sometimes Amy thought about one of her father's thick, calloused fingers sliding smoothly between her legs. How would it feel exactly, a finger like that?
"I think that's done it." He ducked out from under the sink. "Can you run the water?"
She reached to turn on the tap. He was sitting on the kitchen floor by her feet. He could probably look up her short skirt if he wanted to.
Would she like that? She wasn't sure.
Maybe.
Yes and no.
He was peering under the sink again, reaching back to do something.
-If he looked up now...
Something fluttered in her stomach.
"Yeah, there we go. Job done."
She had to move out of the way. He was getting to his feet and they smiled at each other.
"You can turn the water off," he told her.
Amy did so.
"Do you want a Coke?" he said, and when she nodded added; "Great, grab one for me too, will you? I'm going outside for a smoke."
She found him sitting on the wall rolling a cigarette; fingers and thumbs. The tip of his tongue touched the paper.
He wasn't sexy but sometimes thinking about him was. Such thoughts made her feel...
-naughty-?
He lit the cigarette and smiled and took the Coke. The sun or the cigarette smoke made him narrow his eyes.
"I should have been a plumber," he said. "Good money in it."
The low wall was warm on the backs of her legs as she sat down beside him.
"Why don't you take it up now?"
He looked at her as he popped the can; "-What, and give up making wiper blades?"
They both smiled. She knew how much he hated his job.
The can of Coke looked small in his hand...
-his big hands-
Sometimes Amy thought about them touching her. The hard skin would scratch where it touched. Fingers and thumbs like pliers pinching sensitive....
"-Nice out here today," he said and exhaled a stream of smoke. "But I'd better put the tools away."
He pinched the end from his cigarette. She knew if she ever tried doing that she'd burn herself.
She watched him go inside.
The thought of him was sexier when he wasn't there, when she wasn't actually talking to him and looking at him.
In real life he was just her father.
"Have you got any plans today?"
"-Just studying."
"No, seriously," he said, "-have you got any plans today?"
She laughed and he smiled.
"I am," she insisted. "I'm going upstairs now."
They were in the hall and he stepped aside to let her pass.
Sometimes in the stories she read online lecherous fathers watched their nineteen year old daughters scamper upstairs in their short skirts in the hope of catching a glimpse of their white panties.
Hers were red, not that she thought he'd look.
-But he might.
She scampered up the stairs with that thought dancing in her mind but when she reached the landing and glanced behind her he was already gone.
