by S. E. Law
My uncle literally had tears in his eyes.
“Well, my home is always open to you, Naomi. It’s going to be lonesome here on my own without you.”
I pat his hand gently.
“But Uncle Richard, you’re not home that often because you’re out on the road all the time. I know it’ll be lonely when you get back because Aunt Dorinda’s no longer with us, but that’s okay. Just pop by the Lodge. I’ll be there, as will all of your trucker friends. We can grab a drink and a meal, and catch up,” I say with an encouraging smile.
My uncle wiped what looked like tears from his eyes and sniffled. But then he looked up and smiled at me with pride.
“I’m proud of you, Naomi. You’re just like a daughter to me, and I’m so honored to sponsor your membership in Dads and Daughters.”
I threw my arms around his brawny shoulders.
“I know, Uncle Richard. Life is changing, and it’s hard on everyone involved. But it’s natural. This is what happens as people grow up, and I’m a woman now. I turned eighteen six months ago, and high school graduation is just around the corner. It’s the perfect time to collect my degree, move out on my own, and start my new life.”
Uncle Richard sniffled and smiled again.
“I know. It’s just that you grew up so fast, Naomi! One moment, you were nothing but a wee girl with pigtails, and now you’re a woman and an associate member of the club too. I can’t believe it.”
I merely grinned.
“It’s okay, Uncle Richard. You’ll get used to it, and the transition will be awkward but everything will work out in the end, I promise. I love you,” I said fiercely, throwing my arms around him again.
After that chat, we smiled at one another again, and everything I said came true. I graduated and moved into the Lodge to begin my term as an associate member. At first, it was a little intimidating and I was very unsure, but there are older girls who show you the ropes. They’re very nice, and instead of being competitive and bitchy, they actually take you under their wing so that the adjustment goes off without a hitch.
Of course, I took to my new lifestyle like a duck to water. Within two weeks, I was going on out-calls and servicing long-haul truckers like an old hand. I was a little sore at first, but it was a good type of sore. It was the kind where I’d go home knowing that my body had been stretched in all the right ways. I was happy and delighted with this new turn of events.
But one thing that’s changed is the amount of laundry I have to do. Sure, I don’t need to dress up for the truckers. They’re easy-going guys who like a girl in shorts and a t-shirt just as much as a woman decked out to the nines in a cocktail dress.
But I like to be presentable, and to look pretty. Maybe I don’t meet the men in a fancy outfit, but I certainly like to have cute get-ups that are clean and pressed. Most of the time, I wear a mini-skirt and a sexy top to meet my trucker lovers, and they love taking them off of me.
But that still leaves the issue of lingerie. I have a huge collection of panties and bras now, courtesy of the club. It’s important to look sexy, and I see lingerie as an integral part of my presentation. The truckers have had a long day on the road, and I’m their gift at the end of the day. They might enjoy a cocktail or two, and then focus on “unwrapping” their new present.
That’s where the lingerie comes in. After losing my mini-skirt and top, I like to present the men with sexy lingerie that gets their libidos going. I have a lot of pink and peach lacy sets, as well as some fire-engine red and black negligees. Hell, at this point, I have lingerie in all colors of the rainbow, and there are some very interesting pieces indeed. I’ve been doing some shopping on-line, and some of the lingerie sites sell NC-17 items like crotchless panties and bras with strategic cut-outs. It’s fun. Guys love it, and there’s the added element of surprise with these alternative pieces.
But I always have to wear clean lingerie. I just don’t like it when they’re old and smelly, not to mention caked with another man’s seed. As a result, I do laundry a lot. I could send the pieces out because the Lodge has laundry service, but I feel embarrassed about that. The thought of another person touching my most intimate pieces skeeves me out a bit, and so I prefer to take things into my own hands.
Humming, I drag my laundry basket into the hallway and close my room door behind me. There’s no need to lock the door because everyone at the Lodge is vetted and everyone knows everyone else. Plus, we’re in the middle of the forest, so strangers don’t generally walk in unannounced.
“Hey girlfriend,” a voice behind me sings.
I turn, and it’s Patty, an older girl. She’s been here a bit longer than me, and we’ve struck up a friendship. “How did it go last night?” she asks.
I smile.
“Michael from Dayton was amazing,” I say. “Have you been with him before?”
Patty thinks, tucking a strand of chestnut hair behind her ear.
“No, I don’t think so. We get a lot of guys from Dayton, but I’ve only been with Roland, John, and Walter. Maybe there are more, but I don’t think I’ve been with one named Michael.”
I giggle.
“Well, I’ll tell him to request you the next time he’s in town.”
Patty’s eyes dance.
“Why, what was so amazing about him?”
I grab my laundry basket and we chat companionably while walking down the hall.
“Well, he’s a double-holer,” I say. “You know, he likes to rotate between your holes.”
Patty giggles.
“This one?” she asks, pressing a finger to her lips. “Or this one? Or this one?” she asks gesturing to her kitty and bum.
I giggle too.
“Front and back. Come to think of it though, I did give him some oral fun, so I guess he’s a triple-holer.”
Patty understands what I’m saying.
“I love those,” she breathes. “They’re so thorough, and you feel so used after being with men like that.”
I flush and nod knowingly.
“Yes, exactly,” I say. “It takes a while to recover from being with them, but it’s a good type of recovery. It’s the kind where you feel really sated and satisfied.”
The older girl smiles at me.
“Well, it sounds like you have a job well done on your hands,” she says. “Great work!”
I smile.
“Thank you. Are you going out tonight?”
Patty frowns.
“No, and I don’t know why. I told the office I’m available, but I haven’t been called for three nights in a row now. It’s strange.”
I shrug, just as puzzled.
“That is odd because I’ve worked for the past three nights in a row. I wonder why they didn’t split the appointments between the two of us. Who know?” I say lightly. “The office is the office. Only they know what they’re up to.”
Patty grins and then turns the corner.
“Well, I’m off to the gym. You know, they’re doing still rings today with that new trainer in town. He’s H-O-T. You should come sometime.”
I giggle. The new trainer is built and handsome, and he’s studying for his long-haul trucker license while he works with clients in the gym. Not only that, but he’s amazing with women, and quite a few girls have come back with torn panties after their personal training sessions with him.
“I will!” I call out. “Enjoy yourself!”
With one last wave, Patty disappears around the corner and I continue hauling my basket to the laundromat. That’s so weird. Patty hasn’t been out on a date in three nights, whereas I’ve been out three nights in a row. I wonder what that’s about? But right now, I have a giant load of laundry on my hands, and it’s time to get these clothes clean.
71
Aaron
My friend and I look at one another.
“Fuck, it’s filthy,” Andrew groans. “We’re going to have to head to the laundromat ASAP.”
“Serves you right for wanting to drive ATVs,” I
say.
Andrew just rolls his eyes.
“It’s not the driving part that got fucked up,” he says. “It’s the fact that I crashed! Then mud got everywhere, and I swear, there’s animal shit on my shirt now.”
I shrug.
“Yeah, there probably is because you stink to high heaven. But whose fault is it that you’re a lousy driver? Next time, keep your eyes on the road.”
Andrew raises his hand in a mock-fist, but then he lowers it and we both laugh. Neither of us is really pissed at the other. Accidents happen, and ATV driving isn’t exactly the safest thing you can do in the world. Skidding through forests at sixty miles an hour is dangerous, especially if you’ve been drinking hard the night before.
But Andrew and I like to play it fast and loose. It’s just the way we are. We’re long haul truckers, and we’re very safe when it comes to our jobs. We take care of our loads and are always on-time and sober.
But when it comes to our personal lives, we like to let off steam. ATV-ing through the forest is just the latest in a long line of thrill-seeking hobbies. We’ve also done bungee-jumping, kite-boarding, and our latest obsession: BASE-jumping. You literally put yourself wingsuit, and hurl yourself off a tall structure. It could be a mountain, but it could also be a man-made masterpiece like a skyscraper or a bridge. Then, while in descent, you open the wings of the batsuit and hopefully land in one piece. The key word is “hopeful.” It’s not guaranteed that you’ll come out alive, but that’s what we love about it. The thrill. The rush, and the chance that you might come out with scrambled eggs for brains.
“Goddammit. There’s shit all over me. Do you want to head to the laundromat?” Andrew asks, brushing at something gross on his shirt.
I shake my head.
“No, not really. But we have to. We stink and our clothes stink too. We’re walking pariahs right now.”
Andrew nods.
“Well, we could just give this stuff to the Lodge’s laundry service.”
I nod.
“Yeah, we could, but we’re not going to because we’re not like that. This shit has animal shit on it. It’s rude to give it to the staff without trying to clean it yourself first a little. I mean, they get paid well, but they’re not paid that much. This is going above and beyond, and will require some real sacrifice on their part. Come on, let’s get to the laundromat.”
Andrew rolls his eyes and grabs his gear.
“Can’t we just tip them more during the holidays? They’re the ones who are experts at this kind of thing.” I shake my head, and he snorts. “Okay fine. We’ll throw it in for a cycle, but then we’re pulling this shit out and giving it to the professional staff. You and I aren’t exactly great at doing laundry.”
Now it’s my turn to grimace.
“Who needs to be great at doing laundry? These machines are the same. You just throw your stuff in, add some detergent, and then press “Start.” There’s no magic to it. Come on, asshole. Let’s go.”
We josh one another while descending the stars to the basement, but we both know this is no regular laundromat. Sure, people can use the machines to get their clothes clean, but these machines are special. They’ve been modified by the Lodge so that they not only deliver clean garments, but they also deliver pleasure. There are all sorts of implements that you can attach to the laundry machines to get the ride of your life.
After all, Dads and Daughters specializes in hedonism. The club is a dirty daughter swapping club, and they take that experience to the max. To be honest, my friend and I are still learning new things every day about the Lodge because we haven’t been members long. We only just started in the long-haul trucking industry, after careers as pro baseball players. It was tough being in the Minor Leagues, and sadly, we didn’t make it to the Majors. Now, working as long-haul truck drivers is a dream. The hours are brutal, but it pays really well, and we’re making money hand over fist.
Plus, the women are ten times better than the groupies who greeted us at every city when we were at away games. Those women often had caked-on make-up, bleached blonde hair, and a classless way about them. We thought being a long-haul trucker would be the same.
But it’s been a step up, actually. At first, Andrew and I were using professionals at different rest stops. It’s not a big deal actually, and some of the women are quite attractive. My favorite was Marion over in Baytree. She was on the older side, but what she lacked in youth, she made up for in attitude. Her curves were generous and plump, and she’d let us do anything we wanted to her body. She let us turn her upside down with me drilling her mouth while Andrew tongued her kitty. Then I’d erupt between her lips, and my friend would take her ass, before pummeling my ass.
After all, Andrew and I are bisexual. It means that we like to enjoy a woman together, but we also like to enjoy one another’s bodies. Sometimes, we pull into a rest stop, and there’s no need to call the Lodge or summon a professional. Instead, he’ll hop from his cab into mine, or vice versa, and we’ll devour each other’s bodies. It’s nice to have a hard male member to suck at night, and he stretches my back hole like no one else.
But we still enjoy being with women, and we’ve been looking for a woman to join us ever since we joined Dads and Daughters. We’ve definitely been keeping our eyes peeled, and Dads and Daughters has a nice collection. There are sweet, willing girls everywhere, and quite a few have real curves, which is what we prefer. When you’re getting manhandled by two men, you need some serious poundage to keep up. Thin girls end up getting broken when dealing with two male animals who pull out all the stops.
But we haven’t found anyone yet. There was Sienna, who was very promising, but she was snatched up by Jock and Jack. Then there was Natalie, but fucking Gascon and Gary got in the way. Both girls have been claimed now, and we’re not sure who else might be open to the idea of a MMF bisexual ménage. After all, this isn’t your usual hook-up. This is a real relationship with two men who adore your curves, but also one another.
But right now, we just need to get laundry done. Both Andrew and I stink to high heaven, and we’re probably offending everyone we pass in the halls. Grumbling, we make our way into the brightly lit, open space of the laundry room and look around. It’s huge. The walls and ceiling are a blinding white, and the floor is a polished concrete. The room is filled with dozens of laundry machines of all different shapes and sizes. There are small ones that are stacked like shoeboxes on top of one another. Then there are medium washers and dryers, lined up in a row like the Three Bears. Last of all, there are the extra large washers over in one corner of the laundry room that appear as big as a house. Literally, you could fit all Three Bears into the machine, and then close the door with no problem.
But that’s where the similarity to a regular laundry room stops because this is Dads and Daughters, where anything goes. Plus, the Lodge spares no expense when it comes to the pleasure of its members, and the laundry room is no exception.
Black rubber grips decorate the walls, in case you need something to hold onto while you ride one of the machines. There are even a few protruding dildos of different sizes attached to the wall at strategic heights. Hell, there’s even one pointing straight up from the floor, in case a girl decides she wants to ride it while waiting for her clothes to dry.
There’s also a laundry line strung across the back, except that the string appears made of a thick, tensile material and not some flimsy cotton floss. A big slop sink is in the corner, and I’m sure there are dozens of fun toys in there. There must be more hidden in the closet on the side as well, waiting to be used and enjoyed.
But Andrew and I aren’t here for fun. We’re here to get clean because frankly, I can’t stand the stench anymore. We take up positions by one of the huge washers in the corner, and strip.
“Fuck, I forgot to bring extra clothes,” I curse. “What do we do?”
Andrew shrugs.
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll just have to sneak back to our rooms in our birthda
y suits. I hope no one sees,” he says.
I roll my eyes. We’re both hung and studly, but there’s no reason to strut around naked because we’re not exhibitionists at heart. Unfortunately, we have no clean clothes on hand either. What to do? I’m about to filch some sheets from another dryer, when suddenly the sound of sweet humming fills our ears. Is someone else here?
As Andrew and I watch, a ripe curvy girl appears in the doorway of the laundromat. She doesn’t realize we’re here because she’s got AirPods tucked into her ears, and she’s completely focused on the task at hand. Besides, the laundromat is huge, and we’re off in a corner, slightly hidden from view. Meanwhile, the curvy girl takes her basket and plunks it in front of one of the medium-sized machines.
But then, the girl does something that makes both our jaws fall to the floor. Humming sweetly, she leans forward and rummages in her laundry basket for a moment. Then she straightens once more and to our surprise, there’s a huge, black toy in her hand. It must be at least ten inches long, with protruding veins and a thick shaft. The girl’s eyes light up as she looks at it, and while we watch with open mouths, she leans forward to press a delicate kiss to its tip.
Holy shit. Did we really just see that? Is the girl about to get the ride of her life, with us as her unwitting witnesses? There’s only one way to find out.
72
Naomi
Aerosmith blasts in my earbuds and I bop along to the song. Aerosmith is a throwback to the eighties, but I love the group. I have a taste for hardcore rock music, and there aren’t any good bands these days. That’s why I love Steven Tyler and his tendency to scream song lyrics. He gives it his all, that’s for sure.
As my ears fill with Walk This Way, I heave my laundry basket over to a machine in the corner. This machine is my favorite because it’s slightly broken. The clothes get clean just fine, but the machine has a hitch in its churn that feels really good.