The Dirty Daughter’s Garage Tales 4

The Dirty Daughter’s Garage Tales, Ch. 4 of 5
by KwikSylvia

Rachael – August 26, 2016

Twenty years later. I was still Rachael, but I had a new last name.

My parents were selling the old house. It was a good move for them, but they called me up to come and get my stuff – you know, the box of memories you leave in the attic or basement of your parents, thinking they will always be there, in the same house.

But things change.

I had to leave my husband Dave, my daughter’s Eva and Lily behind, and fly home, which was going to be good and bad. I loved seeing my parents again, but having to say goodbye to the house I grew up in? That was going to be hard.

Mom and Dad picked me up from the airport and we drove out to our house in the suburbs, pulled up, and walked inside. Already boxes filled all the rooms. I could see the smudged edges from pictures that had hung on the wall for thirty years, now gone. It all really was changing.

But both Mom and Dad still looked good. They were older, thicker around the middle, and their hair had gone silver. But they worked out and for some unknowable reason, they’d gone total vegan once we moved out of the house. They’d said something about fruits and vegetables keeping them young.

We chatted about my kids, and I walked through the rooms, now mostly empty, but I soon wandered out the back door and to the detached garage, which, for such a small space, had some of the best memories of my life.

That’s where they’d stowed my box of mementos. Nick was on his way, but with our busy schedules, I was flying out on the day he was flying in. It made me sad I wouldn’t get to see my older brother.

The garage smelled like it had in the 1990s: sawdust, dirt, oil, a little tang of yard clippings. Autumn was coming early, or summer was leaving slowly, so it wasn’t as hot as it had been when I’d played my dirty incest games.

Dad’s Indian was still there, but he’d finally got it running. He and my mom would go on long rides on Sunday afternoons once Nick and I left home.

I pulled my box from a corner, opened it up, and there, on top, was the notebook of gold stars my mother had made me when I was in high school. It took me back to 1996, when I had been waking up to myself and to the world.

The door squeaked open behind me. Mom walked inside. “Did you find everything?” she asked.

I nodded and raised the notebook. “Remember this?”

“How could I ever forget, Rachael?”

“I was so pissed at you when you first gave it to me.” Now, I could laugh. Back then, it had felt so unfair.

Mom was wearing a blouse that showed her cleavage, and a pair of nice jeans that accentuated her curves. Flats on her feet. She smiled, and sure, she had more lines on her face, but she also had that sparkle in her eye. “I know, but I also knew you had to leave the nest. And I wanted to make damn sure you didn’t make the same mistakes I did.”

I walked over and laid the notebook on the workbench. Mom stood next to me. And I smelled her soap and her skin, and my heart started to beat a little faster. We were in the forbidden place, where dirty secret things happened. How could I not get turned on?

I opened the notebook like I’d opened the porno magazine twenty years earlier. On yellowed graph paper, Mom had drawn columns. The first column had a list of activities and the second had a place for a gold star, like the stickers you give elementary school kids.

I read through the list:

• Maintaining a good reputation
• Using birth control
• Avoiding diseases
• Hold a boy’s hand.
• Hold a girl’s hand.
• Kiss a boy.
• Kiss a girl.
• Making out, not touching, kissing only. Any gender.
• Light petting, above the clothes.
• Getting a hickey.
• Giving a hickey.
• Light petting, chest only, under the clothes.
• Heavy petting over the clothes – between the legs
• Heavy petting under the clothes
• Coming with another person
• Mutual masturbation
• Oral sex on a boy
• Oral sex on a girl
• Sex with a boy
• Sex with a girl (penetration)
• Anal Play
• Fantasizing with someone you love and trust and letting them know your secrets

I had gold stars across the page, all the way down.

The other pages were my sex journal, where I wrote about kissing Margaret O’Malley, or holding Bart Carter’s hand. Then of course, it got steamier as I went. Bill Jackson had a tiny cock but he was really good at eating my pussy. Mr. Serra, leaving high school, but us hooking up, once I turned eighteen, in his crappy apartment. Mr. Serra’s sister, Elena, who I met through him. She’d liked to shave her pussy back when not many girls did it. She loved when I sat on her face, and she loved it when I spit on her.

Thinking back on those times, when I’d been so free, when sex seemed like magic, made me a little wistful. While I had thought it was unfair for me to track what normal teenagers did, I had to admit it worked out very well. I’d had many adventures and enjoyed my sexuality. And those first three items on the list: maintaining a good reputation, using birth control, avoiding diseases, each had a silver star next to them because those were worth double points.

I traced my finger over the silver stars. I glanced over. “You said no diseases, no unwanted pregnancies, and no one should know I was a slut. If people only saw me as a slut, I wouldn’t be taken seriously. This fucking double-standard between men and women. It’s bullshit.”

“I wish you wouldn’t curse,” Mom said with a sigh. “But it is unfair. And yet, you were careful, and you found Dave. It all worked out well.”

“Did you feel bad when I was no longer interested in the…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. What word was I looking for? Incest? Garage? Masturbating with my parents?

Mom nodded. “A little.”

I had to smile. “I remember. I sat you guys down at the kitchen table, and made a big deal about it. Like I was grown up and that I wanted to get out of the house and with people my own age. I still loved you. I was grateful for our garage times, but they were over.”

“It was a big deal,” Mom said. “After you left, I cried. You were growing up and you’d go away, which is what children need to do. It’s why cultures have the incest taboo. Children are meant to leave the nest and live their own lives.”

“I guess so,” I said. Then I tried to remember the deal. “So it was every fifteen points. Gold stars were worth one and silver stars were worth two.”

“Every fifteen points,” Mom whispered. “We’d give you a treat. But as long as you were careful, you got an automatic six points from the silver stars.”

And just like that, I went back in time.

Twenty years before.

The deal was, it was only the garage. In the garage, the rules of the house didn’t count. So Mom and Dad ruled the house, and in the house they disciplined me, nagged about my homework, were normal parents, but in the garage, everything changed.

It took me two months to get the first fifteen stars. In October, it gets pretty cold where we live, but Dad had a space heater for the garage. When I got home from school, my notebook full of stars, I went to Mom, who called my dad, and after Nick left to hang out with his friends, we all walked to the garage on shaky legs.

Mom had brought soft blankets and laid them on the cement and across the milk cartons next to the workbench. My heart was in my throat and my pussy was leaking. Everything tingled and I was lightheaded, so good, so fucking good.

I stood nervously in front of them. Dad was in his oily overalls and Mom wore a peasant dress. I had on sweats and a t-shirt because I knew I wouldn’t be in my clothes for long.

“Okay,” Mom said, “let’s see your progress.”

“Then I get my treat?” I asked.

“Fuck,” Dad muttered. “I’m never going to be able to hear that word, ‘treat,’ without coming in my pants.”

We opened the notebook and I talked about holding Missy Perkins’s hand, and how at a party I kissed Joe Kohler. Then Missy and I kissed, just to experiment. I touched her breasts and she touched mine. Talking about it, my voice grew thick. Dad was on my left and Mom on my right. I could feel the warmth radiating from their bodies, but more than that, I could feel the sexual tension emanating from their vibrating souls. We were going to get nasty and nasty quick.

But first, I had to show them I was looking for action outside the garage.

“Good,” my dad said. “I know Joe’s dad. They have a good family.”

“And Mrs. Perkins and her family, Missy included, show up to church every Sunday.” Mom nodded. “You are choosing good people, Rachael. I know there are a lot of slutty girls looking for attention at your school, and a lot of horny boys who don’t care where they shove their things as long as they get off. But there are nice, young people, who are just as curious but who aren’t as flashy.”

“So I get my treat?” I asked. And it hadn’t been really spelled out what that might be. I’d masturbated over the idea for two months, wondering if it meant I’d suck Dad’s cock, or Mom would lick my clit. I didn’t think they would go that far. And I was right.

“No touching,” Mom said. “We can say and smell whatever we want. And what happens out here, stays out here.”

“I got a new magazine for the occasion.” Dad held up a new Hustler. He laid it out on the workbench. He flipped open to an innocent girl showing her coned tits. I couldn’t help but notice she looked like me, and that there was a sticky white smudge on the page.

“You’ve looked at this one a lot,” I said and touched what could only be dried cum on the corner.

“She looks like you,” Dad said simply. “And you’re so gorgeous. Mommy and I are so lucky to have you out here with us.” His breath was coming faster now. He’d said a trigger word: Mommy. In the house, they were my mom and dad. Out here, it was Mommy and Daddy everything. The incest fetish went deep.

“Are we really all going to play together?” I asked.

“Yes, sweetie,” Mom said. “Daddy and I have been fucking, thinking about you and thinking about doing this with you. We got so turned on thinking about all three of us out here together.”

I turned the page of the magazine, already starting to squirm. The pictures were still tame, only tits, or the crack of a butt. Then I found one of the girl spread open, her pussy clearly on display and her asshole peeking from between her ass cheeks.

I traced the page. “I wonder what Missy Perkins’s pussy looks like. You think she has thin lips?”

“I’ve thought about that,” Mom said. “But I want to see it with her bent over, that perfect young round ass in the air. I want to bury my face between her cheeks and lick her from behind.” While she talked, her right hand was touching her nipple, poking through her blouse.

The temperature in the shed seemed to increase and it wasn’t from the space heater. I felt sweat dribble down from my armpits. My own nipples rose to play peek-a-boo still in my t-shirt. I took one and twisted it. “We have to play now,” I said. “The magazines are fine, but I have you two. Are you going to fuck in front of me?”

Dad’s pants were tented out, the bulge so unmistakable. “Here, they have a boy/girl spread later on.” He turned the pages to where a cute blond boy was smiling at a brunette with hair cut short. That look he was giving her, it was similar to a look Joe had given me, so hot, so wanting.

“He’s cute,” Mom said. “I’d fuck him. But first, I want to see his cock.” She turned the pages until we got to an image of the girl below him, on her knees, his cock, uncut, straining and thick, aimed at the red lipstick of her mouth.

“I love cock,” Mom said, “all kinds. Circumcised, uncircumcised, and yeah, he would fill Mommy’s pussy up so good.”

I was dying to stick my hand down my pants and rub my clit. My panties were soaked. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. I was looking at a porno magazine with both my parents.

Dad turned the page. “They don’t show penetration, but here, you can see her pussy and his cock.” Both of the models were lying down, as if they were about to fuck, and the boy’s long penis rested just at the entrance of the brunette girl’s trimmed pussy. She had thick lips and a little pink clit.

“She’s wet,” I whispered. “She wants to fuck. Like me. I want to fuck so bad.”

Dad unclipped his overalls and let them fall. He wasn’t wearing any underwear and his cock sprang out, so long, so hard. My first instinct was to grab it, but the rules were, no touching.

“Are you going to stroke your long Daddy dick?” I asked. “Are you going to fuck your hand like a pussy?”

He took it and showed me, rubbing the pre-cum over the head, and then licking his hand.

“You tasted your cum, Doug,” Mom said. “I heard about you kissing Rachael after she rubbed your cum on her face. You like the taste?”

“I love sex,” Dad said simply. “I like how it all tastes, looks, and smells. Speaking of which, are you going to show us your tits, Mama? Rachael, do you want to see Mommy’s tits?”

“Yes,” I said. “But I was going to take off my shirt first. Should I?”

“Yes!” Both my parents said at the same time, in the same way.

I pulled my shirt over my head, but kept my bra on, though with how big my nipples were, you could totally see them. I didn’t ask and slipped my sweatpants over my hips and let them drop. Daddy stood in his shirt, his hand on his cock, and Mom was still clothed, and somehow, that made it hotter.

It was happening. I was going to masturbate with both my parents at once.

“I can see how wet your pussy is,” Mom said. “Your panties are soaked. You know, if you took them off and gave them to Daddy, he would love to smell them. Daddy likes to sniff Mommy’s panties all the time.”

“What about your panties, Mommy?” I asked. “Are they wet?”

“Oh, yes, baby, my panties have been wet all day, thinking of doing this with you. It’s so nasty, you in your little underwear, your nipples so stiff, your tits so delicious, and your Daddy stroking his cock. I sucked him off earlier tonight because I wanted him to last. If not, he’d be coming now.”

“I would,” Dad said. “This is beyond hot.”

Mom unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off. She lost her balance for a minute, but I caught her arm. That touch, our skin, electrified me. I wanted to bury my face in her tits, suck on each nipple, and then taste her, taste my pretty Mommy’s hairy cunt.

She took off her pants, and then, her panties, which were blue with a little bow on the front. The gusset was smeared with her juices. She bent down, and I watched her tits jiggle in the blouse, as she picked up her panties.

Rising up, she saw where my eyes were glued. Well, Dad and my eyes, both of us staring at her long length of sweaty cleavage.

Panties in hand, she raised her arms above her head. “Could one of you help?”

I leapt to it before Dad could. So close to her, smelling her body, feeling her heat, I took her shirt and pulled it over her head. I was eye-level with her tits. She reached back and unclipped her bra. Her tits feel free, right in front of my face, those pebbled areolas and rock-hard nipples.

“You want to suck them, don’t you?” she asked in a husk. “You want to suck on Mommy’s big tits like you were a baby.”

“Yes, Mommy,” I whispered.

“Look at them, baby,” she said. “Stick your fingers into your wet panties and rub your clit and look at my tits.”

I did as I was told. The minute my finger hit my clit, I rubbed once, and then felt myself coming. I gasped, it was so sudden, but I’d been so hot all day, no, for two months, waiting for this moment. I couldn’t help, I fell forward, my face against my mom’s tits, my breath coming out in a storm, as I orgasmed next to her, my face on her skin.

“She’s coming,” Dad said, gasping. “The little whore is coming already. She has a hot little cunt, doesn’t she Marjorie?”

“Oh, our Rachael is special,” Mom said. “She is such a gift to this world. Such a sweet, sweet slut. She’s going to make so many people happy. Starting with Mommy and Daddy.”

Them talking over me only made my orgasm better. I rode it, loving how long it lasted, and then I turned my face, to take my mother’s nipple into my mouth.

She knew what I was doing, and eased me away. “If you want to suck on something, suck on these.” She still had her panties in her fist. She put them up to my face.

I leaned forward and smelled them, smelled my mother’s pussy. “Oh, God, that smells so good.”

“Do you like how Mommy’s pussy smells?” she asked.

I could only nod, speechless.

“I bet you do. Mommy likes it, too.”

“Do you want to suck on them? Do you want to taste Mommy’s cunt?”

Again, I could only nod, my hands on my clit, my pussy never so swollen, so needy. I was going to have to fuck myself with something, anything, maybe Daddy’s cock.

“But first, Daddy wants to see your tits. And your little pussy. You have such a cute little pussy.” She eased me around.

Dad reached down and took off his shirt in sweeping motion, emphasizing his muscles and working his hairy chest.

Seeing him get completely naked, watching him manfully take off his shirt, made me moan.

His cock had turned a purple color, so hard, so swollen, the helmet as purple as a plum. It would feel so good going up inside me.

Mom unclipped my bra and pulled it off. My tits were on display.

“Did you like coming on your daughter’s tits?” Mom asked.

“Yeah, I did,” Dad said. “I liked coming on her asshole more. She begged me to do it. Begged me to come on her slutty asshole.”

“I didn’t get to see her asshole when we played,” Mom said. “Baby, will you show Mommy your slutty little asshole?”

Had she forgotten about her panties? I thought she was going to shove them into my mouth, but I wasn’t going to argue. Mom was in charge.

Mom was behind me, Dad in front. I hooked my thumbs into the panties and slowly bent over, pulling them down my legs, as I bent over and showed my mother the hairy lips of my pussy and the little pucker of my butthole.

I stayed down, spread open before her and Dad.

“Do you like it, Mommy?” I asked.

Mom’s pussy squished as she pushed a finger into her pubic hair, to her clit and then she curled the finger into her hole. “Yes, baby. You are so fucking hot. Can I come looking at your asshole? Can Mommy come looking at you?”

I got down on all fours, then leaned forward, pulling my ass cheeks wide. “Come, Mommy. Come looking at me. Then I’ll come, but you promised me your panties. Can I have your panties now, Mommy?” My own underwear still clung to my right foot, seemingly forgotten.

“Take it, you dirty, dirty girl. Mommy’s girl is so fucking dirty. Smell Mommy’s cunt while you show me your slutty asshole.” She dropped her panties onto my face. I snatched them up and stuck them in my mouth, and I tasted her. I tasted my mother’s pussy juices. Salty, tangy, Mommy’s cunt.

“Oh, fuck, Doug, this is so nasty. I can see our daughter’s asshole. Rachael, our little baby, she’s smelling and tasting my cunt.” Mom stood over me, grunting, rubbing herself. Her legs touched mine, and my hand went to my clit, to rub my clit with one hand while I used the other to keep Mommy’s panties on my face, so I could experience all of her most secret tastes and smells.

“Come with me, Mommy,” I pleaded. “Come with me.”

She dropped down, her cunt on my butt, her fingers rubbing her clit but also grazing her knuckles across my butthole, and then she came. She grunted once, twice, three times, rubbing against me, her sweat falling on my skin.

I came too, the second one of the night, and I missed having something in my ass. Her knuckle wasn’t enough.

Burying my face into her panties, smelling her cunt, the garage, even my dad, jerking off above me, I reached back and shoved my fingers underneath my mother writing body and into my butt. I did have a slutty asshole, and I wanted to show them how much.

“I’m going to fuck my ass, Mommy, like you fucked yours. Watch me fuck myself dirty. Watch me.”

My finger slipped into my butt, my hand attacked my clit, and I came again, but this time, I felt the rubbery ring of my sphincter convulsing. “I can feel my come through my asshole. I can feel me coming. Can you see?”

“Oh, you sweet whore,” Mom said. “I can see it. You are coming so good. You’re asshole is so horny. It’s making me come too. Your slutty asshole is making me come too.”

Again, Mom stood over me, coming. More sweat fell on me, and her smell, my smell, both our cunts steamed up the window.

Once we were done, Mom reached down and took the panties off my foot.

Dad was jerking off in earnest now, after our show, and I knew he was close, so close.

Mom pulled me up to him, and not gently either. She had me by the hair, making me kneel in front of Dad as he masturbated.

“Daddy is going to come when he smells your pussy, Rachael,” Mom said. “But you can come again, right? If you smell Daddy’s balls, it will make you come again, I know it.”

Dad pushed forward, and I was under him, on my knees, my hand on my overworked clit. But Mommy was right. The minute I smelled his man musk, emanating from his cock, his balls, the crevice of his hairy ass, that smell, it hit me like a brick.

“Daddy smells so good, Mommy,” I whimpered, building up to another unbelievable orgasm.

But she was on a mission of her own. Standing next to my dad, she had my panties in her hand. “This cunt, Doug, this cunt is your daughter’s cunt. Smell it. Smell it like you want to eat it, like you want to fuck it, like you want to own it.”

She lifted my soaked, stinking panties up to Daddy’s nose, and he smelled it, and Mommy was right, Mommy was always right, he started to come.

He looked down into my face, so innocent, so wanting, and he aimed his cock at my mouth.

“I’m coming, Daddy!” I cried.

“Daddy’s coming too!” he thundered.

The first line of white struck my cheek, and I jerked, surprised, but I wanted it in my mouth. Mom reached down, helping him aim, and the next shot of wad hit my tongue. My orgasm took me, and I was coming, tasting Daddy’s cum, and I couldn’t help it, I closed my mouth, to swallow it, to savor it.

He continued to fire, painting my face, marking me as his own.

“What a good slut,” Mom soothed. “What a good slut taking Daddy’s come on your face. But you like it, don’t you? You like Mommy watching you take your Daddy’s load on your face.”

I couldn’t answer, the filthy talk too much, and I crumbled to the floor, going away for a minute. Four orgasms, so fast, all of the nasty things we’d done, no treat ever had ever tasted so good.

I lay on the floor, panting, and then I looked up.

Daddy was fucking Mommy on the floor, on one of the blankets she’d brought. Her legs were up, she was holding them, and her wet, red cunt gaped as it sucked in Daddy’s cock.

One orgasm wasn’t going to be enough for him.

“Watch us fuck, Rachael,” Daddy said. “This is how I fuck Mommy. This is how we made you.”

He was pounding her, and she was screaming, her tits bouncing across her chest.

I crawled over on all fours. I wasn’t sure I had another orgasm in me, but I figured Mom did. She’d only had two and there she was, being pounded within an inch of her life, loving every thrust.

My face was over hers. Daddy’s cum dropped onto her cheeks.

She looked into my face. “Kiss me, baby. Kiss Mommy and she’ll come.”

I slowly lowered my lips to hers, and she drank in Daddy’s cum, then my lips, then my tongue and my taste. She sucked my tongue, I sucked hers, we mashed our lips together, and she started her Mommy grunting, her come sounds. My hand reached for my clit.

I knew what my mother sounded like when she orgasmed. Not one girl in a million knows that sound.

“You both are dirty fucking whores,” Dad bellowed and he thrust forward, coming into Mommy, filling her full of his seed. He pulled back, breathing hard.

“I wanna see!” I pushed myself from kissing Mommy, down past her tits, to her hairy fucked-out cunt, soaked and steaming.

And there, seeing my Dad’s spunk drool out of her hole, I came a fifth time, resting my cheek on Mommy’s thigh, her hand rubbing my back. I let the spasms take me until I slumped over.

Dad stood over us, his prick finally deflating. A little bit of cum dripped down on my thigh, and I scooped it up with a finger and licked it.

“So this is the treat?” I asked with a smile.

“Yeah, it is,” Dad said. He gave my mother a long look. “No touching. No kissing.”

“You got to do it,” she said evenly. “And now so did I.”

“How many more stars until we can do this again?” I asked.

Both of them laughed.

Twenty years passed.

Again, I was standing in the detached garage, now completely horny. I was going to go to my room and jill myself senseless.

Mom let out a sigh. “Who knew that little geeky Joe Kohler would steal you away from us.”

“I can’t believe we only did the treat thing once,” I said. “It was amazing, too amazing.”

“We only needed to do it once,” Mom said. “You found you had a better time with your friends and it was all part of you growing up.”

“I wouldn’t say better time.” I paused, thinking. “It was because of Dad. It really bothered him. He couldn’t let what happened in the garage stay in the garage. And I knew the notebook was your way of saying it had to end.”

“So you got the picture,” she said. “And your father and I talked, really talked, and we knew if we kept going with you, we’d wind up having sex, and sex changes things. The nice thing about parents is that we should be the stable force in your life, the thing you can always count on. Lovers come and go, as they should, but parents should stay. When parents become lovers, they are no longer parents. We didn’t want you to miss out on that.”

“That time, the treat,” I said. “It felt like enough most of the time. Other times, when I was with Joe, or Missy, I would really want you guys and not them. But I understand. Now that I have Eva and Lilly, I get that. Dave and I roleplay, but that’s all it’s going to ever be. Unless…”

Mom raised an eyebrow. Hellfire rose in her eyes. “Not my grandbabies. You touch them, you’ll have me to deal with.”

“No, not them,” I said. “But I’d like to think if they ever needed me like I needed you, I could be there for them like that. You handled it all really well, Mom.”

She drew me into a hug. “Thank you, Rachael. I tried. I really tried.”

We left the detached garage, hand in hand. “So tell me about this website,” she said. “Dirtyminded Mom. I hear it’s very popular.”

I shrugged, feeling shy talking about it. “It’s not really me,” I said. “It’s kind of this fantasy thing I’ve made, where I can share all my incest stuff. Funny, I’m really honest about some stuff, but other stuff I keep hidden. Some people even think I’m a man. Whatever.”

“Men,” Mom harrumphed. “They think they’re the only horny ones.”

“Mom,” I started, carefully. “Did anything ever happen with Nick in the garage?”

She colored. But before she could answer, Dad pulled up on his motorcycle and eased it into the garage. He came out, ran to me, lifted me up, and spun me around. I felt like a little girl again.

“Rachael!” he yelled. “So good to see you!”

He set me down and kissed my cheek. And he wasn’t a lover, he was just my dad, and that was fine. Sometimes the fantasies are better than reality, and to bring the fantasy into reality destroys them both.

I gave mom a glance though, she never answered my question.

“Another time,” she said.

Hand in hand, we walked back into the house to start dinner.

At one point, I drifted to the kitchen window to look at the detached garage. My mother had called it a den of iniquity at some point, but I knew the truth.

It was a sacred place, and in many ways, the woman I am today was forged there.

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Rachael’s Response:

Damn! Standing-O! (And in this case the “O” doesn’t stand for ovation…)

“Sometimes the fantasies are better than reality, and to bring the fantasy into reality destroys them both.”

Couldn’t have said it better myself. Which would make me kinda hate you if you didn’t give me so many orgasms with this story. Love the filthy dialogue, the sexual aromatics, the sweaty bodies, and of course the gooey cum everywhere. It’s a rare treat to get such down and dirty sex mixed with a perfect dash of heartfelt emotion.

If more of this kind of top notch erotica was out there, I never would have had to attempt writing it for myself. I can’t decide whether or not that would be a good thing in the long run, but either way I’m so glad you’ve shared your nastiness with us, KwikSylvia, and I’m sure I’m not alone in this.

I’m a little sad that there’s only one more chapter to go!

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Chapter 5 >>

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5 thoughts on “The Dirty Daughter’s Garage Tales 4

  1. Sylvia, your writing is so mesmerising and arousing! Thank you so much, this was a great balanced story that had me cumming over and over – just like Rach!

  2. Thank you Rachael and Pipi! And Pipi, it’s high praise to compare my writing with Rachael’s. Oh my gosh, she is just so brilliant and nasty.

    I’m thinking of working on other stories. We’ll see. If everyone likes the Dirty Daughter’s Garage Tales, I might work on the Slutty Son’s Garage Tales.

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