Long Haul Road Trip

July 30, 2019

 My Dad works hard. I know he loves us because he works so hard. He’s a long haul trucker and every time he comes home he just spoils us with presents and meals out at the diner or even a day at the lake if it’s summertime. He loves his job too. He says he gets to see the best of the country and once a year he takes one of us with him on one of his long haul journeys.


“Best way to see Canada!” He says.


And he’s right. We have been doing these trips once a year since we were about eight. Of course, he only takes one of us at a time. My sister, Emma, and me (I’m Anna), take it in turn for a fourteen day round trip with Dad. Emma’s older than me by eight years, so she pretty much stopped going with Dad when she was eighteen. But that just gives me all the more time with Dad. I’ve gone every year for three years, but this year was different.


You see, I discovered masturbation not long after my last trip last year with Dad, so it’s now like a major part of my life. And I mean major. I have the urge to frig off around four to seven times a day, and if I don’t do it then I get agitated, fidgety, annoyed even. I mean, school is a nightmare because you can’t exactly start strumming or fingering yourself mid-class, although I have come close a few times. No, instead you have to pretend to go to the Girl’s bathroom and try to do it all quiet-like in the stalls. I don’t really like doing that unless I absolutely have to. Most times I make sure I do it before I go to school and then the moment I get back in from school. Then after dinner. Then in bed at night. On my horniest times I still have to sneak that relief during the day in bathrooms or wherever I can be alone for any time. I swear I have done it watching TV with my parents, snuggled under a blanket. Having to stop myself from whining as I came was possibly the biggest turn on because it was so dangerous for me.


Still, the thought never entered my head when Dad asked if I wanted to go with him on the road trip across country. I just jumped at the chance. To be honest, even on the days leading up to the trip it still hadn’t occurred to me. Even as we pulled out onto the open road all I could do was smile at Dad and look out with wonder at the mountains, the forests and lakes. It’s pretty spectacular!


Dad was great. We talked about school and stuff, about the TV shows we watched together and I got to put on my music, which he smiled at and tried his best to bob along to. I love my Dad; he’s great. So, we’re about three hours into our road trip and I start getting that certain urge downstairs. I mean, you know that insistent itch you need to scratch, but sexual instead? My little pussy was begging me to touch her. But how could I? I was stuck in a trucker’s cab with my Dad sitting right next to me.


I shifted around on the seat. I fidgeted. I bit my lip, hoping the pain would dull that ache in my pants. But it didn’t. Nothing I did took away that need from my pubescent pussy to be touched, rubbed and played with. Reading didn’t help. Watching shit on my ipad didn’t fucking help. Talking to Dad didn’t help, it just made things worse because by now I was starting to resent his presence because he was the reason I couldn’t finger fuck myself. I got worse and worse and worse, until my Dad asked if I was okay. “I’m fine,” I lied.


By the time we stopped for the night I was desperate to jill the fuck out of my little cunt! But there was Dad, always there beside me. I did perk up a little after food, but going to bed that night was torture! Dad snores like a Grisly Bear with a cold, so I was lying next to him half trying to get some sleep and half trying to get off right next to him, which, I’ll admit was pretty risky, but that just made it sexier. But every time I got too busy he’d wake up and ask me if I was okay. I never did cum that night. I eventually just fell asleep.

The next day I was quiet. Annoyed even. I sat there watching the mountains and valleys roll past with ill-disguised disdain. In truth I was still horny as fuck but there was no escaping Dad. We must have been on the road two hours before Dad looks at me for the umpteenth time. He shook his head in frustration.


“Okay, what’s up?” he said.


“Yeah, right. You haven’t said a word all morning and you got a face like you’re chewing a wasp.”

“It’s nothing, honest.”



Just then he pulled the rig off the road onto a lay-by and stopped.


“Okay,” he turned to me “Spit it out. What did I do?”


I knew Dad wasn’t going to let this go if I didn’t tell him something, but what?


“Well…? Come on, Honey Bee, you can tell me anything, remember? When you were little…”

“I’m not little anymore.”

“You’re still my little girl…”

“Dad, will you just shut up if I tell you?”


“Okay, um… you know you and Mom have sex, right?”

“Uh… yeah” Dad said, looking bemused.

“Well, if you don’t do it for a while it gets… uncomfortable, right?”


“Well, I get that too. Not sex. Not really. But…”


Dad looked at me like I had just stepped out of a spaceship.


“Dad, I need to do it…” I widened my eyes at him them rolled them quickly away to hide my embarrassment.

“You need to…” I could see him piecing it together, but why was he taking so long about it. It was just annoying me even more.

“I need to touch myself. Down there. You know?”

“You wanna masturbate?”

“Yes!” I was dying by now. I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me.

“O-h!” He said finally realizing. “I thought it was something serious.”

“Well, it kind of is, Dad!”

“Well, Honey, why didn’t you do it when I was asleep?”

“You kept waking up asking me if I was okay!”

“Oh. Okay.”


Dad crunched the rig into gear again and made it out onto the road again. We didn’t say anything for a good ten minutes. I was dying. My face was burning red. And I still needed it!


“I didn’t realize you were that far along…” he said looking at the road, “you know.. with your… development…”


I wanted to die. Someone make this nightmare stop, please!


“You know,” he carried on, and I cringed, waiting for the world to end, “if you need to, you can go back there and do it.”

I looked at him. He was serious. He didn’t want to look at me while he was saying it, but he’d said it.


“You mean, just go back there and…”

“Er, yeah. You know, if you need to. Just climb on back and pull the curtain.”


I looked at Dad as he glanced at me. He smiled an embarrassed little Dad smile then looked back at the road.



“Yup, you just do what you gotta do. I understand. I get it. Go on.”


I bit my lip. It’s my standby pensive expression. He glanced again and nodded.


Okay, this was my green light. So why was I still sitting here? I carefully stood up and started climbing back into the cab, past the fridge and TV and right onto the bed. I leaned forward and pulled the curtain across.


This was it! I had on Jeggins so tight you could see my camel-toe from Toronto! So I ripped those right down my little legs and my panties went too. I lay back with them tying my ankles together so my legs made diamond shape when I opened then wide. I like to play with my bubs too, but this was storm force 10 and I needed relief now, goddamn it! - Like, yesterday!


I went at it - licking my fingers to lube up a bit before diving south for the Mariana Trench! (I learnt that in Geography, don’t you know?) I dove in and circled my bud round and round before I went for my favorite weakness. I delved into my succulent hole and let out an audible squeal. I remembered Dad and shut the Hell up, but then the thought that he knew what I was doing back here got right to me - And I loved it!


Oh fuck, Daddy was in the front driving, listening to me huff and puff. I started up a pumping rhythm in my eager little pussy. I love fingering myself, so in went Betsy, my trusty index finger, pumping in and out like a little piston. I never even got the chance to put another finger in because almost as soon as Betsy went in I felt that peak coming. I managed a good twenty thrusts before I lifted off the bed on my feet and shoulder-blades, arching like I’d had a shock in the ICU - Clear! - Whoomp! My cum burst around my hand and showered my thighs and ran down into my ass-crack. And with the little pinnacle of pure peace I floated gently back down to the bed.


It was then I realized the embarrassment I was feeling. “Oh God! I’m gonna die of shame!” I thought as I slowly pulled my panties and jeggings up snugly into my sated little sump. (That’s a word dad taught me. Something about engines. I don’t know, I wasn’t really listening. But I liked the word and I’ve been trying to drop it into conversation ever since. “Sump” Lol.) I quickly used a Kleenex to clean up and tossed it in the little bin he keeps back there, for just such an occasion I guess. No, ew!


I righted myself and slowly peeked through the curtain. There he was: Good old Dad…


I wanted to stay right there, go to sleep and wake up as if it had never happened. But I couldn’t, could I? I mean, if I stayed back here any longer he’d think I was some kind of pervert. I mean, how long does it take a man to jerk off? I bet it’s not as long as jilling. But even if it were then how could I justify staying longer. I could. I could do it all night, or till I got sore, but Dad didn’t know that. At least I hoped he didn’t. What if he did? What if he’d heard me in the night? His room at home is next to mine. Oh, God!


I gently pulled the curtain across and gingerly climbed back into the passenger seat. I sat there quietly looking out the windows. I tried not to look at Dad.


It was twenty five minutes later that he said, “You okay now?”

I never looked at him but just nodded.

“Good,” he said, “that’s good, because…”

“Dad, please stop speaking!”

He stopped.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.”


The country rolled by in the big windows as the trees and the mountains seemed to get taller and taller. Not much traffic on the road either. Just us, mostly. Time inched by, then trotted, then seemed to run away with itself and next time I looked at the clock it was lunch time. It had been three hours since I’d done the thing in the back.




“We stopping for food?”

“Sure thing. I gotta take a break for an hour anyhow. There’s a truck-stop up ahead.”


I was glad we’d broken the ice. I didn’t want to say anything else but I felt a whole lot better. I smiled at Dad and he smiled back.


We stopped at a place which was basically just a gas station and a diner. There were horses in the field behind, and a house. We went in and I slaughtered bacon, eggs and pancakes with syrup, all washed down with hot coffee with two sugars in. Mom only lets me have one, but Dad just said, “Don’t tell Mom”. It wasn’t the only thing I wasn’t going to tell Mom. Dad told his trucker friends that I was his little monkey, and they said I must get my good looks off my Mom, “Coz he’s an ugly old Bastard!” I defended him, of course. He’s my Dad. He’s not too old and for his age he ain’t bad.


Anyhow, we hit the road again after an hour, and watered and fed I was a happy little trucker. I was smiling again for the first half hour. Maybe it was the constant vibration of the truck, but pretty soon I was feeling little Polly needed a poke again. I looked at Dad and he smiled back at me as Soft Rock from the radio eased us down the road.


“Er, Dad?”


“I need to go.”

“I thought you went to the bathroom before we left.”

“No, Dad. I need to… you know.”

“Again?” He glanced at me with some kind of expression I ain’t never seen before.


I just nodded insistently.


“Well, yeah, okay. You gotta do what you gotta do.”

“You make it sound so…”

“Sorry, Chick. You go on back. Don’t worry. This is a safe space.”

“Really, Dad. Stop talking.”


I nipped past him and saw him glance at me as I went. What did he think of me? Was I his sex crazed slut daughter? Was I out of control? Was I going to hurt myself doing it twice in one day? I didn’t know. Can you get AIDS from bed-sheets? Wow, where did that come from? I was thinking too much.

I jumped onto the bed and this time I stripped right down, doing a starfish on the bed totally naked. My Dad was just the other side of that curtain. He knew I was going to masturbate. And he was fine with that.


I went to work again, but this time I took more time on myself. I felt up my lovely bumps and down to my little clit. She’s a bit sensitive but she likes a lovely game of Ring A-Ring of Roses. But I like it deep. I love to plunged a finger inside myself and really fuck myself with it. I went for it and could feel and hear my wetness as I pumped in and out of my fleshy little hole. As I came I felt that wave of excitement and relief ripple over my body. I gasped, quite loudly, and slumped.


I quickly dressed and hopped back into the front.

“All good?” said Dad.

I nodded, blushed then smiled.

He laughed. “It’s all good.”

I relaxed as I sat there looking out as the world went by. Dad didn’t make it weird.


Maybe it was the truck vibration again. Maybe it was the way Dad was so cheerful and open. Or maybe it was because I was a girl who had just discovered the best game ever and wanted to play it again and again. But I was horny once more.


“Er, Dad…”


“Can I…?”

“Not Again?!” he blurted and laughed out loud.

I laughed too, embarrassed but finding it funny too.

“Sure, why not?” He said.


I climbed in the back and this time I just pulled my panties and jeggins down like the first time. As I started feeding my finger into my sopping little cunt I had a wicked idea. Firstly, I fed another finger inside me. That was fun, tight but it felt so good. Then, as I started fucking myself with my two fingers I said, “Dad?”

“Everything ok?” he said.

“Yeah, but I was wondering why you don’t mind me doing this. Jenner’s Dad would flip out!”

“Jenner’s Dad is a Catholic. Everything’s a sin with them, including masturbation.”

“What’s masturbation?” I said as I started pumping my pins in and out of Polly.

“It’s what you’re doing now.” He said.

“What am I do doing now, Daddy?” I asked rather clumsily.

“Touching yourself. Making yourself cum.”

“Oh, Dad!” I blurted, half in shock and half in passion.

“It’s okay, Honey Bee. Everyone does it.”


I soaked up what he just said. That meant my older sister did it. It even meant Mom did it. And Jesus, it meant that Dad did it too!


“Do… you… do it, Daddy?” I stuttered breathily.

“Sure, honey. I do it too.”


And with that I came again.


I just pulled up my stuff and hopped right back into the front.


“That was a quickie!” He said, laughing.

“Sometimes I like quickies best.”

He laughed again. “I know what you mean.” As I looked at him he shifted slightly in his seat. It was then I noticed for the first time the bulge in his jeans. Actually, it was more like a snake as I could clearly see the outline of it going down his leg under the tight denim. I couldn’t look away. And just like that, I was horny again.


“You know what I mean…?” I said leadingly.

“Well, sometimes I need to do it. And sometimes quick is best.”

“It’s not just me, then?”

“Nope. Your Mom too. She likes a quickie.”

“Too much information, Dad.”

“Oops! Sorry.”


As I sat there feeling the vibration of the 18 wheeler below me, like some big powerful juddering washing machine on spin, I couldn’t stop looking at my Dad’s cock. What the hell was wrong with me? But there it was, teasing me. I imagined what it looked like under that denim and I could feel my nipples growing hard as I swallowed, my mouth dry. That throbbing in my pants was starting to get intense. And I knew if I just sat there looking at it I was going to burst right there on the seat.


“Gotta go!” I blurted and dived into the back.

“Not again?!” blurted Dad.

“Yeah!” I laughed as I climbed back through.

“Well, yeah, okay…” chuckled Dad as I got back there and shucked down my jeggings and panties sitting on the edge of the bed. With them around my ankles again I noticed I hadn’t closed the curtain. I could see the back of my Dad’s head as the road twisted and turned ahead of us. Sure, I could have hopped forward to yank the curtain across but somehow that wasn’t what I wanted to do. Perched on the edge of that bed I just opened my little legs and started masturbating.


I started furiously strumming my little bud as it teemed with exquisite pleasure. Too much, too intense. My breathing was ragged as I strummed looking right at my Dad. If he turned around right then he would have seen his little girl sitting on the edge of his bed looking right at him as she masturbated her hairless little cunt. God, that was hot!


I slunk down to my pouting little hole as it dripped my juices onto the crotch of my panties way below. I leaned back on one elbow as I raised my feet up. I like it when I pull my legs up high, but my tied up ankles were making it awkward. I tore them off, accidentally kicking the roof of the cab, and I yanked my knees up high so I could loop my arms through my thighs to my now open wide pussy. I puffed with the exertion and then the pleasure as I plunged two fingers right into me.


“Uh!” I gasped.

“You okay back there?” Asked Dad.

I breathed heavy as I rasped, “Yeah, Dad… I’m good.”


Somewhere deep inside me I wanted my Dad to look back at me right then; with my legs up around my ears and my pussy gaping like white-water trout. I fed my fingers to my hungry mouth in the south, and it gulped them down with relish. I started going faster, the sound of wet slopping as I furiously fingered myself now a rising sound in the little cab. There was no getting away from it: My Dad not only knew I was masturbating, now he could hear me do it! And there was little chance he didn’t realize I was plunging my depths with my eager little fingers. I pumped in and out of little Polly and touched that sweet spot inside I had touched only once before. I was really going for it! The wet slops and my raspy breathing combined to make a rising rhythm of passion, my little whimpers increased in number and I found it more and more difficult to stifle them as they escaped my little lips.


“Please Daddy, turn around.” My sick little twisted brain was saying as I watched the back of his head down my body between my legs. That’s when my orgasm started. It rose from deep inside my ass and permeated through my pussy, making my bean scream as my pussy walls clenched around my deeply dug digits. I yelped a small high pitched gasp and whined my way down to earth with something like a shimmering haze of ethereal rapture floating my body with it, slowly realizing there was a bed, there was a cab, and there was Dad.


I pulled my fingers free and they slurped like toddler sucking a Popsicle. I cringed, but what was the use? Dad had heard it all, and I knew he had. I don’t know why, but I was glad he had heard it, heard me, cumming. I sucked my fingers clean, making no pretense at quietness now. Then I just flopped, laying there, spent.


I didn’t lie there long, but it got my breath back and pulled on my panties and jeggings once more. I used a wipe to clean up my fingers and got a drink from the fridge. A cold coke is the perfect post wank drink for me. It seems to compliment my sexual high with a sugar and caffeine rush too. I climbed through to the front and dumped myself into the seat.


“That was a good one!” said Dad. He laughed as I turned red.

“Dad!” But I laughed too. It was too weird not to. “It was a good one though.” I said.





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