(There is no underage sex in this story.)
Readers tell me they like plot with their sex. My sentiments exactly. However, we must not forget our real subject matter either! Please tell me what you think, anonymously if you must, but return email addresses will prompt replies. Many thanks for your attention!
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Max pulled his finger back from the remote and watched the six foot door open. He pulled it further and stepped up into the big cab of his "eighteen wheeler." Another week had begun. On Saturday morning, he'd be back in bed at home, some twenty-four hundred miles behind him. That about summed it up for Max Wealdstone. He drove auto parts from a plant in St. Louis, Missouri to an assembly plant in Laredo, Texas. Then he drove pallets and shelving parts back to Missouri. It was his business, his risk and his payoff. He took good care of his clients, and they took good care of him with regular work. Most independents would give their eye teeth to have what Max had, but few would have been as willing and diligent about service to have achieved it. Max was his own man, a truer definition of "independent" could not be found.
This trip began Monday at five P.M. when he picked up his loaded rig at the parts manufacturer, and drove southwest through the night. Three hours into the run, making excellent time for daylight hours, he past around Springfield, Missouri and traveled another ten miles before pulling off at an exit not frequented by most truckers. At just after eight pm, with the summer solstice only a week past, he needed no lights to see his way off the deserted exit and onto the local two-lane. A quick left turn, followed by a right at the "T" just a hundred yards further, brought Max and his Freightliner Coronado to a diner with a large gravel parking lot. He pulled the huge rig into the lot, steered around the back of the diner parked there years ago, and back along its side until his cab was even with the eatery's end windows. Max let the six hundred horse Caterpillar idle for several minutes while he filled out his log and brought his paperwork up to the minute.
When he next looked up, the sun was falling faster and the night creeping in from the east. Max shut down the big rig and pushed on his side of the cab. The tall rearview mirror mounted on the door carved a wide arc as the hefty assembly swung open and exposed the driver to the view of the few diners inside the building.
Max struck a classic pose without knowing it. He was a tall, big man with a well proportioned mustache and short, black hair to match. His large eyes disarmed a first time acquaintance, a good thing for from a distance one could easily see workout program was in use. Max's arms were as big around as some men's thighs, and the rest of his body was just as fit and muscular. It was a man's man who stepped down from the high cab of his way of life.
While two men in the diner looked with their mouths open, their wives, a couple of mature and matronly types, unhealthily overweight and apparently not caring how they looked, were quick to glance at the noise and then back at their plates. But one particular person in the diner did more than look. She ran out of the place and across the graveled lot. Rather than stopping, she jumped up and sideways at just the right moment and flew through the last few feet of air into the safest and most secure place she'd ever felt, in the arms of her lifelong hero and lover.
"Oh Max! It seems like a month! Not a week!" She wrapped her arms around his thick neck and kissed him hard on the lips. Their tongues searched each other's out and locked in a familiar dance more like the thumb stomping game than a kiss.
Katie was twenty-six. She was tall and thin, with small firm breasts and only slightly wider hips. Her hair was short and her face was little-boy'ish, a collection of freckles and perky features that warned serious people not to expect her to listen to their woe's. Her voice was a bit lower than one might expect from her appearance, but there was no doubting her zest for life when watching her with her man.
"Hey there, daughter!" Max broke their kiss and came up for air. He chuckled and squeezed her left breast with his supporting hand. "Miss me?"
She wiggled delightedly in his arms and said, "Miss you? Nah." She pressed back into him and sucked his tongue from his mouth before pulling back and saying, "I CRAVE you!"
Max laughed and began to walk her to the door of the diner. The two men inside continued to watch in envy and awe. They hadn't heard the exchange, but it was no secret around the tiny town that Max Wealdstone was the father of Katie, the owner of the diner. Every week they went through the same drill, and every week they looked like they were meeting for the first time in years. Women looked the other way not wanting to admit what they thought, and men looked doubly hard to see what they could see of the legendary story. And week after week, the legend grew.
The big trucker set his daughter down on the stoop of the diner and followed her inside. She flipped her hand toward his usual booth at the opposite end of the long room of booths and counter space and skipped like a child into the kitchen. Max slid into the booth and removed his sun glasses. He looked around, smiled at the staring women and winked at their men after their wives turned back to their plates in blush.
Katie returned shortly with large plate of steak and eggs, proportions not available on the menu. She smiled down at her old man as she placed his food before him and a cup of coffee beside the plate. "Oh!" She exclaimed as she felt his hand slid up her thigh from under the table.
Max laughed and asked, "How've you been, Baby? Husband treating you right?" He slipped his finger under her panties and along her slick crack, back and forth a couple times. Then he withdrew and brought a finger to his nose in a lewd gesture only his daughter could see.
She smiled but that hardly conveyed the urge in her loins, the sight of her father sniffing her aroma from his finger. "The usual, Daddy. He hits me every morning before he heads to the fields, and I don't see him again till the next morning. He's asleep by the time I close up here, and I'm exhausted at the time he gets up. I feel like a pincushion, and just as numb." She smiled then, "Until Monday nights that is!" She wiggled her ass, a movement that definitely was seen by all.
They chatted a bit more and Katie went about seeing to her customers. She lied about the boredom in her marriage – it really wasn't that way at all. But the banter had grown from months of this ritual and it pleased them both to be so crude. They talked on as few more diners came in for late meals or snacks before heading home, and eventually the place cleared out. By ten o'clock, Katie had turned out the lights and the place was dark. They were alone.
Max's booming voice called out, "And just where the hell is my little girl now?"
Katie was born to Max's wife, eight years before Max and she had met. He'd fallen in love with both of them and married and taken care of them ever since, that is, until Katie's Mom died of cancer a few years ago.
Both Katie and Max had been devastated by the loss, a closer family being hard to find. The two of them bonded even more so than before, pulling together to get through their loss, and helping Max keep his business while still getting Katie through school. Katie was conscientious girl in high school, a very mature lady for her age, and Max was seldom home from the road. They needed each other at critical times, and took care to not cause each other harm the rest of the time. On those more cherished occasions when they were in the house at the same time, they talked more like mates, than father and step daughter. They succeeded and got through their loss together.
