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Disclaimer: I’ve had this one for a while, but I just couldn’t come up with more on the line and it felt incomplete. It seems a little short to me, but I decided to go ahead and post it. Enjoy!
*****
(Davidson)
My phone buzzed and I looked down to see my daughter Eva, calling.
She was 25 and away at college but called me at least once a week to let me know how she was doing. She’d already called this week and it was a bit unusual for her to call so late on a Saturday night but I answered immediately.
“Hey kiddo,” I said.
“Hey dad, I need a favor,” she replied.
“I’m good, it’s great to hear from you,” I said sarcastically.
She laughed, “Dad, I call you every week and rarely ask for favors, this is serious.”
“How much you need?” I asked.
“No, it’s not like that,” she replied.
I quit teasing and paid attention, if she wasn’t asking for money this was probably for real.
“Do you remember my good friend Mandy,” she asked.
“Of course,” I said. “The redhead.”
“I think she needs help,” she replied.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“She went to a party and texted me she had too many drinks and was feeling woozy. Her parents are out of town and she didn’t know who to call. I told her I’d get you to help,” Eva said.
“What’s the address?” I asked.
“I just texted it to you,” she said.
My iPhone buzzed and I saw a message had come through. Opening it, I saw an address. I’d already been walking toward the door so I grabbed my coat and headed out after saying goodbye to my daughter.
Unlike my daughter, Mandy had gotten accepted to a local college. Her and my daughter still met up every time she was in town, so I saw her often. Mandy was a redhead with a sparkling personality, she had a tendency to be a wild child. And
Hopping in my black Nissan Frontier Crew cab truck I quickly followed directions off my phone and was at a stranger’s house in 20 minutes. It was a typical house in suburbia and I could hear music coming from inside.
I knocked on the door and a minute later a teenager answered the door. He was white, looked early college age with glasses and wore a tshirt and blue jeans. The failed attempt of a mustache and goatee made his face look dirty.
“I need to see Mandy,” I said.
“I don’t know who that is,” he replied.
I stood there and could see inside, a bunch of college age kids were drinking and the smell of pot filled the room. A few of them looked toward us as I talked.
I walked past the door keeper and he cried out, “Hey man, you can’t just barge in.”
I ignored him as more people looked in our direction. I was a rather big man and wasn’t overly concerned about a physical altercation. I’d spent twenty years in the Marine Corps as a grunt and was more than capable of “institutional violence” if it came to it.
I ignored the doorkeeper’s protests as I scanned the crowd for Mandy. Walking into a hallway I saw a few bedroom doors. I opened one to see a two couples making out on a bed next to each other, both girls were topless. Ignoring them I walked to the next bedroom.
“Dude, you can’t just come in and do whatever you want?” the doorkeeper cried out, waving his hands.
My hand was on the door handle but I turned to look at him not saying a word, now that he had my attention he realized how close he’d gotten toward me. I took a step toward him, towering over him. He looked back to his friends in the living room and swallowed.
“I’m just saying,” he said feebly.
I ignored him again and turned to the room, opening the door. There was Mandy, on the bed seeming passed out with her shirt off and her pants unbuttoned. Two guys on either side of the bed were laughing and one was taking pics as the other felt her up.
They both froze, then the one taking pics yelled out, “Hey, we’re busy in here.”
I ignored them and crossed over to the bed, shoving the one off Mandy, flipping him head over heels off the bed. I grabbed the phone out of the other guys hand.
“What the hell dude?” he said as I scrolled through his pics and deleted everything, then cleared his trash folder.
The second one managed to stand up full of righteous fury and came to a halt as he got next to me. I easily stood six, six and weighed 275 pounds with an obviously muscular physique. I nonchalantly tossed the phone in the thirtygallon fish tank on the other side of the bed and turned to fully face the second one.
“Aww man,” the owner of the phone cried out but didn’t move.
“Yes,” I said looking at the one that’d gotten close to me.
He swallowed, “Look, she agreed to everything.”
I looked down out the passedout Mandy, and then back at the kid, “That’s agreement to you?”
He didn’t say anything so I turned back to the first kid, he looked at the ground.
Shaking my head I grabbed Mandy and the blouse on the bed next to her and carried her out to my truck, ignoring everyone along the way.
I put her into the passenger seat and drove home. Carrying her into the house, she was a mess. Her clothes were disheveled with throw up on her blouse. Shaking my head I went to the hallway bathroom and turned on the water. I quickly stripped off her clothes and my own, leaving on only my sport briefs. I carried her into the shower and rinsed her body.
Despite the intimacy of the situation, I felt no attraction. Instead, I was slightly repulsed, there was nothing ual about the circumstances and the fact that the dummies had been about to have with her in this state increased my rage.
I got out of the shower and quickly dried her off, taking one of my shirts and dressing her before putting her in my daughter’s old bed.
Once I got in her tucked in, I went to sleep myself. Year of military service led to my constantly being up at five in the morning. I took the time to get in a solid workout, after my workout I took another shower. Standing before the mirror in my bathroom I looked at my body. The workouts to stay in shape were getting harder as I aged but at 50 years old I was still in good shape, barely any “fluffiness” as I called fat, I stood six, six and weighed 275 pounds. Cardio had always been a nightmare for me and since my retirement I’d given up running. It was too hard on my knees. But I’d taken up the stationary bike and I did 45 minutes every day religiously in addition to my weight routine.
After I cleaned up I went to my garage and started to work on my motorcycle. I set my alarm for nine and enjoyed the peace and quiet of the morning.
Once my alarm went off I went inside and made a breakfast sandwich, English muffin with an egg, cheese, and sausage patty. I could’ve made it earlier but I wanted it to be reasonably fresh when she woke up. I wrapped it in a napkin and put it on a plate. Then put a note beside it.
“Eat, OJ in fridge. Out in garage, join me when ready.”
Then I went back out to work on my bike. Soon enough Mandy came out to the garage, sleepy eyed, with tousled flaming red hair and still wearing my shirt.
“Good morning,” I said in a cheerful voice.
“Ughhh,” Mandy replied.
I chuckled.
“Yeah, I’ve had my share of nights like that,” I said.
She brought her hands to her face and shook her head.
“I notice I’m wearing your shirt,” she groaned.
“Yes, you are,” I replied. “I know what you’re probably thinking, but I promise, there was nothing ual about it. I put you in the shower, cleaned you up and put a shirt on you and then put you to bed.”
“Mr. D, I promise I’m not thinking what you think I’m thinking,” she said hopping on my workbench.
“Oh yeah,” I replied, raising an eyebrow.
She groaned again, “I know you most likely saved me from getting raped, and I trust you as mush as I trust my own dad. So I’m really not worried about you seeing me naked or putting me in the shower.”
“So what’s bothering you?” I asked.
“It’s so embarrassing,” she said. “But when I get seen naked, I want to look hot, not like some homeless drug addict. I hate the fact you saw me looking like a skank way more than I care about you seeing me naked.”
I barked a laugh, “That makes a certain amount of sense.”
She put her face in her hands.
I shook my head, “Don’t know what to tell you there. I’ve put it out of my mind if it’s any consolation.”
Looking up, she rolled her eyes and smiled, “Thanks.”
I nodded and kept working on my motorcycle.
“I made you breakfast, you can borrow the shirt, bring it back whenever,” I said. “Your clothes are in a shopping bag on the kitchen table.”
She smiled at me, “Thanks again Mr. D”
She turned out walked back into the house, after about 30 minutes she came back out to the garage and told me goodbye, she told me she’d called an Uber and borrowed a pair of Eva’s pants from her dresser.
*****
The next week passed without incident and on Saturday morning I opened up my garage to work on my bike some more. I had four motorcycles, so I was always tooling around on one of them, it was peaceful to me.
Around noon Mandy drove up and got out of her silver Honda Accord. She was wearing sunglasses, a white sweater with a black miniskirt, and black thigh high suede boots.
Despite the difference in our age, I looked at Mandy appreciatively. She had a great body, standing five, six and weighing around 130 pounds, she still had swimmers’ physique because her and Eva used to do an hour of lap swimming at the pool every morning. A flat stomach and a tight butt complemented her ample chest, she was between a C and D cup with light gold skin unusual in most redheads. Her thick wavy red gold hair went to the middle of her back, and she had piercing blue eyes. I was pretty sure she could model in Playboy if she wanted too.
“Hey Mr. D,” she waved as she strode up my driveway.
“Hey Mandy,” I waved back.
“I came by to see if you wanted to go to lunch, my treat. As a thank you for the other day,” she said.
“I would, but I just ordered a deli sandwich from McCalister’s, uber eats is going to deliver,” I said.
“Oh damn, I knew I should’ve called,” she said.
“I can add to the order and we can eat here,” I said.
“That’s cool, as long as you let me pay,” she said.
“That’s really not necessary but fine,” I said.
I spent the next minute adjusting my order from my iPhone and soon everything was set. She took off her sunglasses and set them on my worktable and leaned against it while I worked.
Soon enough my uber came and dropped off our order. We went inside and I plated the food and grabbed a couple of ice teas from my fridge. Mandy smiled with her legs crossed at my dining room table. As I brought her the food, she uncrossed her legs, and I caught a flash of black panties.
I didn’t react and put the food down. As we ate, we made small talk. Mandy would smile or laugh at everything I said, reaching out to put a hand on my arm occasionally.
After we finished eating, I put the dishes in the sink and Mandy asked for another glass of tea. I nodded and she said she’d get it herself, brushing her body against me as she came to the fridge. I kept my face neutral as we walked back out into my garage so I could get back to work. Once in the garage she asked what I was doing.
“Just going to change the oil on this baby,” I said, pointing to a blue 2015 Harley Davidson Dyna Wide Glide.
“So what can I do to help?” Mandy asked, walking around my bike.
“Nothing really,” I replied.
“There’s gotta be something I can do,” she said smiling flirtatiously.
I shrugged, “Nothing I can think of.”
“Nothing at all you can think of for me to do,” she whispered as she stood next to my bike, provocatively stroking the gas tank.
She picked up a wrench and idly put it on the bolt I’d been about to take off.
“Careful,” I said. “I haven’t disconnected the battery yet.”
She grinned, “You’ll have to show me how to use your tools Mr. D.”
Once she touched it to the bolt, she wasn’t paying attention and accidentally touched it to the battery. I spark flew off the wrench and she yelped and dropped it. A small hole appeared in the oil pan from where it had been touching the wrench. The arc had melted the metal. I’d seen the exact same thing happen before with beginner mechanics, which was why you always disconnected the battery before working.
Oil began to flow from the oil pan onto the floor.
“Wow,” I said, shaking my head. I blew out a long breath. Mandy looked mortified, her eyes were wide and mouth was open. She was at a loss for words.
Shaking my head, I quickly grabbed a rag and plugged the small hole that had been burned in the oil pan, preventing any more oil from leaking out.
“I told you not to touch anything,” I growled, looking toward the ceiling trying to control my annoyance.
She’d just done something that would cost me at least four hours of labor and around $400. I glared at her.
“I’m so sorry Mr. D,” she said. “I didn’t mean to.”
I could tell she was upset by what she’d done, but I was still annoyed. I also wasn’t stupid toward her actions. I was a lot older and had experienced these kinds of flirtations before in my life. I wasn’t oblivious. I knew I was considered very good looking. My son and daughter had both told me multiple times throughout their life how annoying it was to have the ‘hot’ dad. His girlfriends always compared him to me and her girlfriends always teased her about seducing me if they could.
A man would have to be an idiot to have missed the flirtations Mandy was using, and I was not an idiot.
The whole time I’d been wrestling with the idea. I hadn’t dated since my wife died two years prior in an auto accident. I don’t think I’d ever get over her. But the pain had diminished and Mandy was y. Still, she was also one of my daughter’s best friends, I may not have shown it, but the whole morning I’d been torn by indecision about what to let happen.
For some reason, my anger broke that stasis. I knew what I wanted to do.
I looked at Mandy.
“Do you even know what you’ve done?” I asked.
The look of anguish on her face was real.
“How much time and money that’s going to cost me?” I asked.
“I’m so sorry. I’ll pay for it,” she stammered.
I rolled my eyes, “With what?”
“Uhm, I mean, I’ll have to owe you right now,” she stuttered.
“Exactly, I know you need all the money you have for school. You can’t pay me back,” I growled.
“I’m so sorry Mr. D,” she said.
I studied her as she stood there wracked by guilt, I knew what I wanted to say but it was crossing a line. Still, my desire to teach her a lesson was overwhelming.
Steeling myself for what I was about to say I looked at her, “Spread your legs and put your hands on the workbench.”
For a moment she looked confused, “Wh… what?”
“You heard me, put your hands on the work bench and spread your legs,” I said.
She looked at the bench, then at me, “Uhm, Mr. D, I came here to…”
Interrupting her I held up a hand and said, “I know why you came here.”
Continuing, I said, “The reason you’re here is you just wanted to thank me for the other day. Great, you said thank you, now you can leave.”
I motioned to the outside.
“Or unless the real reason you’re here is something else,” I continued.
“So if you want to stay, if there’s ANOTHER reason you’re here, then you’re going to pay for what you just did to my bike,” I growled. “Now if you want to stay, put your hands on the table, and spread your legs.”
She looked at the worktable and then the outside.
Licking her lips, she asked, “What are you going to do?”
“You know damn well what I’m going to do,” I replied.
“But what if someone sees?” she whispered.
“We’re in a culdesac, so I’ll see anybody coming. My truck is in the driveway, my bike is in front of the table so nobody is going to see anything easily,” I said. “Beyond that, you’ll have to take your chances.”
She swallowed, then moved toward the bench and put her hands and elbows on the table, shifting her feet she spread her legs and arched her back, putting her ass in the air.
I moved toward her and she looked over her shoulder at me.
“Eyes forward,” I commanded.
She immediately looked front.
I moved till I was standing next to her. I could see her nostrils flaring and her body quivering. I reached down and took hold of the zipper on the back of her miniskirt. I tugged it just an inch to see her reaction, if this was more than she’d expected. She whimpered but remained still. I pulled the zipper the rest of the way down and when her skirt started to drop I grabbed it and folded it next to her.
Pausing a moment, I admired her ass. I wasn’t lying about the other night, I’d barely registered her body when I’d put her in the shower. I even understood her statement the next day about how she’d wanted to be seen. The mental image I had of her before had not been flattering, however, that was about to change.
Now I appreciated the view I had. He ass was heart shaped and firm. Lightly tanned with the white triangle of a thong letting me know she tanned in very skimpy bikini’s. Right now she was wearing a black Gstring that contrasted beautifully with her skin.
Still, when I looked at my bike, my anger resurfaced. I raised a hand and smacked her ass four times in a row.
She flinched, and yelped, “Jesus.
She started to look back at me, “Face forward.”
She whimpered and looked away.
I could hear her breathing quicken and watched as she tightened her hands into fists. Once more I smacked her ass four times, this time a bit harder.
“Oh fuck,” she cried out.
Her ass was quickly turning a hot shade of pink.
“Are you going to listen next time?” I whispered.
She nodded.
I smacked her ass again four times, this time putting some strength in it.
“FUCK,” she cried out. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.
“Next time, answer me when I ask you a question,” I growled.
“Yes Mr. D, yes I’m going to listen,” she panted.
Now her ass was beyond hot pink and starting to go into shades of red. I could feel the warmth coming off her skin.
She was breathing hard and clenching and unclenching her fists, her ass shifting back and forth.
I rested my hand on top of her ass for a minute, letting her feel my presence, the implicit threat hanging over her.
Again, I spanked her four more times, each time getting harder, till the last swat was hard enough to sting my own hand.
Mandy cried out, “Please Mr. D, please.”
Her ass was bright red and heat emanated from her skin. I moved away and grabbed an oil pan to put under my bike.
“You can get up now,” I said.
With a whimper Mandy stood and looked at me.
Swallowing she said, “I’m sorry.”
I nodded my head.
“You can stay if you want,” I replied.
She nodded back and reached for her skirt.
“No,” I said.
Her hand froze and she looked at me, once again she swallowed and then put her hands at her side.
I used a lift to put my bike in the air and grabbed a small rolling mechanic seat. I grabbed a few tools and sat down to start taking off the oil pan.
*****
(Mandy)
Michael Davidson or Mr. D as he was known to all of us that had grown up with his daughter and son.
I eyed Mr. D as he worked on his bike. I’d been slightly confused. Normally when I flirted with a boy they practically drooled. I knew how to play the game, light touches, smiles, small laughs, all the while dressed y. But it seemed to have no affect on Mr. D, he carried on as if I was just his daughter’s friend.
Growing up I’d had a crush on him. Hell, all his daughter’s friends had a crush on Mr. D, he was ridiculously good looking. He had dark black hair with the salt and pepper thing going on, and his sheer size was absurd. He looked like David Beckham, if Beckham was a linebacker in the NFL and looked like he led a motorcycle gang. He kept his hair in a military close cut but had grown a goatee since retiring. His arms were rippled with muscle and as thick as my legs and his legs were like tree trunks. He had a full sleeve of Viking artwork tattooed on his right arm that lent to the pirate, warrior air he carried. I’d seen him without a shirt when we’d been swimming at his house. His stomach didn’t have that rippled definition of youth but it was flat and his chest and shoulders were sheer muscle with the only hair being a small treasure trail that led from his belly button down.
ero
