I suppose my life was fairly good, at eighteen I had a good job, which at that time was a miracle, enough money to keep me in fashion clothes wise, parents who loved me, and boys fawning over me. Having boys and men humming around me like bees was something I liked, not that I always gave them what they wanted, I wasn't that easy you know, but it was flattering to be in such demand. It was cheap too as I never went Dutch, if a man wanted to go out with me he paid for it, sometimes he got a return on his investment, sometimes he didn't, just like the stock market there was always a risk and I knew that I had something they wanted and used it to full advantage, mine of course.
As for my home life I had no complaints there, neither of my parents were overbearing, they were proud of my achievements and always encouraged me in whatever I did. Mum was a social animal, between her clubs and events we rarely saw her in the evenings, but it kept her happy and didn't give her much time to pry into my sexual activities. Her one wish was that I would find a 'nice' man and settle down, but it was not one of my priorities in life so the less time she had to raise the matter the better I liked it. I was actually closer to my father than my mother, at fifty he was still an active and, according to the girls I worked with, an attractive man, naturally I had never looked at him this way.
My father had taken early retirement after a fortuitous win on the pools and spent his time either at golf, gardening or in DIY projects; when he wasn't involved in any of these he'd be curled up with a book. Very early on I had found that it was easier to talk to my father about my problems than to my mother, especially when I became aware of sex, mum would 'um' and 'ah' about the subject whereas dad would give a straight answer if he could, I soon found myself confiding my secrets in him and though he tutted at some of the things I did he always did it with a grin. Maybe we were closer than most fathers and daughters, I don't know, but if I had a problem I at least knew who I could turn to for a sympathetic ear.
One evening I went out with a dishy guy from the office, mum had gone off to one of her clubs before I went out and dad was reading in the living room when I left. The early part of the evening went quite well, the guy took me to a posh restaurant and I had just about decided to let him have me as a reward when the idiot went and blew it. Right there at the table he slipped a hand under the table and tried to get his hand under my skirt, dishy he may have been, but I was not having that, not in public and not without a little preliminary courting first. What had started out as a pleasant evening ended with me slapping him round the face and storming out of the restaurant, the worst part was that I was feeling randy and had actually been looking forward to letting him take me back to his place for some fun. When I got home dad was still in the living room, he looked up as I entered, smiled, frowned then laid his book to one side.
"Want to talk about it Virginia?" he asked.
"Is it that obvious?" I sighed.
"Only to your old Da'." He grinned.
So I sat down and told him about what had happened, he laughed then patted my knee.
"I suppose he was so used to women swooning over him that it never occurred to him that one would say no." Dad laughed.
"If he'd played his cards right," I grinned, "he would have got what he wanted anyway, I'd just made up my mind when he went and spoilt it."
"What a silly boy," dad grinned, "but I can't really blame him you know, you are too pretty for your own good my love, the temptation gets too much sometimes, after all that's all we men are good for isn't it."
"Oh dad," I laughed, "you do have one or two other uses."
After talking with my father I felt a hell of a lot better though no less randy, the prospect of playing with my vibrator did not please me, but it was too late to find another decent date so it looked as though I was left with little choice. It was just after nine and I knew that my mother would be out until one in the morning or even later so at least I could let myself go, I hated having to hold back my cries so that my mother wouldn't hear them, dad just laughed when he heard the noise coming from my room and ribbed me about it later on. With a sigh I got to my feet and headed towards the living room door.
"BZZZZ." Dad laughed.
Poking my tongue out at him I went off to my room, it took me only a few minutes to get undressed, it took longer to decide which of my vibrators to use, but in the end I settled for a ten incher and lay back on my bed to enjoy myself as best I could. It really wasn't my night, I'd played with my large tits, fingered my pussy and was getting a good high from the vibrator when the damned thing died on me, with a little whimper of frustration I grabbed one of the others out of my cupboard only to find that the batteries were dead. Needing to get off I flopped on the bed and dug my fingers into my burning pussy, with fast, almost desperate strokes I tried to make myself climax, but it just wasn't happening, even tweaking my clit did no good and I felt tears of frustration running down my cheeks as I frigged myself desperately.
"OH DAMN!" I cursed pulling my fingers from my pussy, "DAMN, DAMN, DAMN!"
There was a knock at my bedroom door followed by my father's voice asking if I was all right, throwing a robe around myself I called out to him to enter. My pussy felt as though it was on fire as my father stepped into the room, he noted the vibrator I had thrown aside lying near the door and stooped to pick it up. He was wearing a dressing gown and it flapped open a little to reveal his cock hanging between his legs for a moment.
"The modern marvel not doing the job?" he asked laying the thing on my dressing table and adjusting his gown.
"The bloody things broken and the damned batteries have died in all the others!" I said in frustration, "Fuck it!"
"Come on Ginnie," dad said soothingly, "calm down."
