Amor Prohibetur Ch. 05

Keeping Families Together

You can say what you want about my father, but he was a good man.

He drove a truck, you know, long distance, so that he wouldn't come for weeks at a time. He usually worked in the western states, but that didn't matter because he was still gone. My father could even be in the same state that we lived in and still be hundreds of miles away. He complained about his schedule a lot, but the best he could get from his company was a schedule where he drove for three weeks, followed by one week off. He complained about that too, because sometimes his days off started when he was clear across the country. It would take him three days just to get back home. He hated it, but we needed the money. We always needed the money.

My mom worked as a nurse at a hospital, and she had it bad sometimes, too. She was one of those odd people that actually cared about her job. She did her job so well, that people on the other shifts didn't clean up after themselves. Often, they would bullshit away for their entire shifts and not do a fucking thing. My mom would come in and do her job and everybody else's job, too. She got rewarded for that, when the hospital put her on third shift. That's right; they made things worse for her, not better. If she didn't get her work done on time, she was the one that got bitched at, and not the people that hadn't done their job before her.

You can call what happened in our house fate or whatever.

I didn't even know what was happening at the beginning. My father would come home for a week. For the first day or two he would fight with my mother, because she didn't have any days off anytime soon, and because she had to sleep all day and work all night. They hardly went out. They hardly did anything fun.

I had my own shit to worry about. I'd been trying to balance out a schedule where I could go to college here in town, while at the same time helping my mother out with my two little brothers. It was a bitch for me too, because I was the one dropping off and picking up my brothers from school. I couldn't work, because who would take care of my brothers when my mom was sleeping or after she left for work? Everything was fucked, and none of us knew how to fix it.

My little brothers had it easy. They went to school, and when they came back home they ran all over the house without any real care in the world.

I remember one night, when my father was sitting in the living room, after my mother had gone to work. He was just sitting by himself, all alone and watching TV. I'd already put the boys to sleep, and I went to sit in the living room with him.

I guess he needed someone to talk to, because he started rambling. He complained about how things were going. At the same time he kept saying how things were going to get better. Maybe he was trying to convince himself about that. He said he hated being two or three states away from home, especially when there was something going on in the house. Like when I would fight with my mother, or when the boys would get into trouble at school. I listened, but I didn't have any answers for him.

My father started telling me about how it got so lonely on the road. He would drive hundreds and hundreds of miles every day, for days on end, stopping only once or twice a day to eat and to fill up on gas. He said women truck drivers who were also driving through the western states would sometimes talk to him on the radio. They'd met my father a couple of times, at truck stops, so some of them knew who he was. My father said they had their own little thing going, these women truck drivers. If they saw a guy they liked, another truck driver, they would take him out to dinner or a movie, or buy him presents. The guys that drove trucks did the same to the women that drove trucks, and almost all of them were married. That was how things went on the road, he said. He also told me that he'd never cheated on my mother before, in the whole time they'd been married. If something didn't change in our house, my father said, something might happen out there on the road. I thought about that a lot, that night.

The next day, things should have been better, but they weren't. My mom slept all day. She was supposed to have the next couple of nights off, but she got a call in the afternoon. Somebody from her job had gotten hurt. They would be out for the next few days, and couldn't my mother come in and cover for that person? How screwed up is that, to work in a hospital and end up getting hurt anyway? I don't know if my mom was too afraid of her boss to say no, but then again she was always saying no to my father, wasn't she? Maybe she was just kissing up to her boss, but you can guess what happened. My mother said yes and she got into a big argument with my father. They didn't talk to each other for the rest of the evening. My mother didn't even say goodbye when she left at seven, and she wasn't going to be back until six in the morning. My dad wasn't only going to be home for two more nights and then he was going on the road again.

It was frustrating for me to see him sitting on the couch that night, watching TV but not really watching it. He was just flipping from one channel to the next, kind of like he drove from one city to the next one. I felt so bad for him that I went over and pulled him up to his feet, and I hugged him.

I guess it was just a natural reaction, because he hadn't been around my mother in a while, and because my breasts were pushed up against him like that. Whatever it was, he ended up getting an erection. When it became really obvious, he pushed me away and went to his room.

My parents' marriage was falling apart, and all my father wanted was not to feel so alone in his own house. And what did my mother do, but turn and walk away from him, because in her mind the bills were so much more important than he was. I thought of my father, hooking up with one of those women truck drivers, or even worse, picking up a prostitute somewhere. You can probably guess that my father wasn't a one-night stand kind of guy; otherwise he would have cheated on my mother already. He needed company and he needed love, and nobody was around to give that to him.

That's when I went into my room and put on my white nightie. It comes up to my thighs, and it's basically see-through. An old boyfriend had gotten it for me, but that guy was long gone. I hardly ever got to use it anymore.

I walked into my father's room. He took one look at me and told me to get out. He was sitting on the side of his bed and I crawled up on the bed behind him. He told me again to get out. I told him to make me. Well, he got up and I jumped further back on the bed, so that he had to pull me by the leg. Of course, when he pulled my leg he looked down and he saw my pussy. He was staring at it, like maybe he never realized I had one.

He asked me why I was there, and why didn't I leave when he told me to? I just told him to come and hug me. He looked like he didn't know what to do, so I went to grab his wrist and I pulled him down on top of me.

My father said something about cheating. I said it's not cheating; it's therapy, and that since my mother was a nurse should have known better than to leave him hanging like that. He could have ended up with blue balls, I said. Well that got a good laugh going from him. He asked me if that was what I really wanted. I said no, what I really wanted was still hiding in his pants.

I watched him undress. He getting a little thick around the middle thanks to all that truck driving, but my mother was thick too. I didn't mind that too much. My father got back on the bed with his hard cock leading the way. He looked confused like he didn't know which way he was going to do it. He kept running his hands on my legs and I had my legs opened the whole time.

Finally, he picked my legs up and set them against his chest. He got really close to my butt. I felt his hand down there, and then his cock. I couldn't help but cry out when he pushed it into me. He had the whole thing in my pussy, with his hips pressed on my ass, and his chest pushing down on my thighs. My feet were straight up in the air by then.

I was doing this for him, I thought. But when he started moving inside of me, all of that changed. My father had always been good to me. I'd always loved him because of that, but now he was so much more tender and intimate than he'd ever been before. It's a feeling that's hard to describe, like being with a lover but more than that. It's like all those years of knowing a person are adding up together all at once. All that love that had gone between us blossomed right then. I wasn't just getting laid because I hadn't had a boyfriend in a while. My dad wasn't just getting laid because my mother was ignoring him. It had turned into something else, something that was love, but at the same time wasn't. It was like a giving of love, from one side to the other. It would have been an entirely different feeling if it weren't my father but some other guy.

I didn't like how he had my legs up like that, and so I forced them down to my sides. My father kept pushing into me. When I looked into his face, I saw that his eyes were closed. It bothered me, even though I knew he was probably imagining that he was having sex with my mother. It bothered me enough that I said something about it.

"Yes, daddy, keep doing that to me. It feels really good."

He tensed up when he heard me say that. I felt it all over his body. I thought it he might stop because there was that long, lingering pause between us. Then he started up again. It felt as if there was a new understanding that hadn't been spoken. It passed from him to me, and from me to him, all the same.

My father came inside of me. I don't know if I should have let him get that far, but it happened. If I could take that part back, I don't know if I would. He sat on the side of his bed. He was really quiet, as if he hadn't realized what he'd been doing until now that it was over. I didn't want to spoil that moment, so I reached out and held his hand. It just felt like the right thing to do.

"You don't know how much I needed that." My father said, before he got up and went back into the living room.

He slept on the couch that night, which was unusual. When my mom came home in the morning, it must have made her think about how things had been going. She went to sleep in their bedroom alone. I took the boys off to school. When I came back to the house, I was still tired enough that I went to sleep too.

Later in the afternoon, I went out and picked up the boys, like I always do. My mother made dinner for us, like she always does. When I got back, I noticed that my dad was ignoring her. My mother didn't like being ignored. She especially didn't like that my father had slept on the couch, instead of on his own bed. It must have scared her. It must have made her feel alone in some way, since my dad wasn't hounding around after her and arguing with her like he had been for the last few days. He had resigned himself to being without her, and she didn't like it.

It scared my mother enough that she called her job. She told them she wasn't going to work that night. If there were a conflict between the boys and my father, my mother would always side with the boys. If there were a conflict between my mother's job and my father, my mother would always choose her job. My father was always left out of everything. This was the first time I could remember my mother turning down her job so she could spend an evening with him.

I had expected my mother to go to work and my dad to sit around and mope as he'd been doing. I knew he needed somebody to be close to. Since my mother didn't want to give him the attention he needed, I was ready to be the substitute again. I don't know, maybe I was a little disappointed that I wouldn't get the chance.

I'm sure my mother suspected that something had gone on the night before, but I don't think she connected any of it to my father and I sleeping together. Maybe she was worried that next time my father would be out of town, alone in a place where he didn't know anyone. Maybe he would find himself a prostitute to spend the night with. Maybe my mother thought he didn't love her anymore. Whatever it was, it changed her. She never let her work come between them again.

As for what happened between my father and me, we never talked about it. I was there for him when he needed someone to be there. I guess in a way he was there for me too. It's one of those dirty little secrets that families don't want to be known.

Things did get better after a while. I mean, they were never great, but my mother got a promotion. With another supervisor she cleared her ward of all those losers who had never been doing any work. I was able to have a social life again, and boy, I was ready to run all over town by then.

I made a mistake one time. I had this boyfriend, and we were making love one time, and I guess it slipped out. I called him daddy by accident. He made this weird face at me. I told him I meant sugar daddy, but I don't think he believed me. I started laughing at him. I asked him if he really thought I could have meant my father. He just shook his head and walked away from me, talking about how weird I was. We broke up about a week later.

I met this other guy, and I got him to tell me all of his dirty little secrets. He told me about how he had this fetish for his stepmother, and how he still masturbated sometimes while thinking about her. I made a deal with him. I told him I would dress up like her and act like her while we were making love. The one condition was that he had to let me call him daddy when it was my turn. I guess we're all dysfunctional in some way or another, even though a lot of people don't like to admit it.

Sometimes, I wish I'd slept with my father more than just that one time. Maybe it wouldn't have felt as special as that first time, but who knows, maybe it would have. Maybe it would have been perfect, like that first time was. Well, enough, enough, enough. I've probably told you too much already.

It happened. I had a great time while it happened, and I wouldn't trade the one time for anything in the world.