The first time I hooked up with my Dad’s client [FM]

When I was a teenager, I caught my Dad cheating on my Mom. Because of that, I’ve spent the latter part of my teens, and early part of my twenties continually finding ways to spite my father. My mother chose to forgive him for it, I never fully have. That combined with my sex drive has led to some questionable decisions, my last story is an example of those. This one will be too, so please forgive the immorality in the name of a pretty god damn hot memory.

My Dad is a homebuilder professionally. People hire him to work through designing their dream houses, or really more often than not their “This is what we can afford” houses, then he oversees the project to completion. During some of the more intensive projects, it’s common for our family to go to dinner with the family he’s building the home for. Normally between once, and three times over the course of the build. I still live at home while I’m in school, so I’ve been going with him despite the fact that I’m not his little kid tagging along anymore.

As with my last story, I was nineteen when this took place. Looking back, that was a pretty bad year for me emotionally, and I was having a lot of casual sex to compensate for that. Terrible thing to do, people. There are far healthier ways to handle emotional stress. That said, almost none of them are as fun.

We had just finished dinner with a client who had contracted my Dad to build what would be a fairly fancy home earlier that day. It was a steakhouse type of place. It was the kind of restaurant you dress up a little bit to go to, and I was wearing a crimson keyhole halter top dress, which came to about my mid thigh and waved a little bit, and these really fucking awful gold sparkly heels that I thought at the time were sexy. The keyhole on the dress was large enough that I was showing a decent amount of boob. But to be fair, so was my mother, and his wife. It was just that kind of night, I suppose. I remember being disappointed that I wasn’t the only one who had decided to be hot that evening.

My Mom and Dad were talking to the wife, she was definitely in charge of the project, and I was standing a few feet away from them chatting with Dad’s client who we’ll call Steve. He was a late forties silverfox kind of guy. Neatly trimmed black stubble on his face, with hints of salt and pepper throughout, and similarly coloured hair with a little bit less gray that he had cut short, and gelled a little bit. I’d estimate he was about 6 foot, maybe 6 ‘1“. I was in six inch heels that night, and he was still taller than me. I was flirting with Steve a fair amount. Nothing dangerous, because his wife was there, but I told him I could tell he worked out at one point, and I gushed over his boat to the point that he had his phone out showing me pictures of it. I told him I loved being on a boat, and he smirked coyly before offering to take me out for a ride sometime. It was then that I knew he had picked up on my flirting, and I worried that everyone else might have too. I told him maybe, at the time I didn’t really have any intention of following up, but I put his number in my phone and told him I’d text him later.

It turned out that other people had indeed picked up on my flirting, or at least my mother had because I was lectured later that night at home about “laying it on a little thick” with Dad’s clients, and being more professional at important dinners like this. Very solid advice that retrospectively, I should have followed. I absorbed absolutely none of it at the time though, and texted Steve the second she was out of my bedroom to tell him how much fun I had chatting with him that evening.

I didn’t hear back from Steve until the next morning, just before lunch. He told me he had enjoyed talking with me too, and that I looked gorgeous. He even complimented my heels, which really worked on me because like I said, at the time I thought those god awful sparkly things were the sexiest pieces of footwear that I had ever owned. We chatted on-and-off throughout the day, and he reiterated his invitation to come sailing with him on his boat sometime. By the evening, we had progressed to making concrete plans.

A couple of weeks later, I drove to Steve’s cottage, about an hour and a half from home to meet with him. He had been up there a few days already with his wife, who had ironically gone back to town that morning to meet with my Dad. She and I likely drove past each other on the highway at some point. I actually cringed a little bit internally, but I was undeterred. Steve and I had been sexting since the second night of texting, and I knew exactly what he had in store for me. It was questionable that we would even make it onto the boat in my mind.

I found out quickly that I was correct in my assumption that we would not be going to the boat. At least, not immediately. Steve grabbed my waist, and tugged me inside once he opened the door, immediately kissing me with hunger, then trailing his lips down my neck before he pulled back to look me over. It was the end of summer, and kind of chilly, but I was wearing a very tight tank top, and extremely short jean shorts. Form over function was the order of the day when getting dressed. I had even put on the same pair of heels I had worn to dinner. His eagerness surprised me a little bit, though I don’t think that it should have. I knew I wasn’t his first little affair. He had already told me about the intern who sometimes sucked his cock in the office, and the woman from another corporate office who he fucked whenever they were in the same city. I suspected there were others, but it didn’t bother me.

He led me into the den area and we sat down on their couch before kissing and exploring each other’s bodies some more. I unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off of him before kissing and nipping all over his chest. He laughed and told me I was like an animal attacking prey, so I growled and climbed on top of him. I pushed my hand into his board shorts and stroked his cock while we continued to makeout. Once he was hard in my hand, I pushed his shorts down further and dropped to my knees in front of him, licking at the head of his cock a few times before taking him into my mouth. Steve did not have a very large cock, about four maybe five inches, but he was thick. I bobbed my head over him for a few minutes while he ran his fingers through my hair continually and told me what a good girl I was. A minute or so later, he asked me to stop because he couldn’t last much longer, and wanted to fuck me.

I stood up in front of Steve, and dropped my shorts to the ground, followed by the bottoms of the panties I was wearing underneath. I pulled my top off too, and moaned when he tugged me back into his lap and sucked on my nipples. He then reached down between us, and aligned the head of his cock with my entrance. I eased myself down on to him slowly, and kissed him as I began grinding my hips into his lap. He matched my pace from underneath and pulled my hands behind my back, holding both of my wrists with his hand. He then leaned back in, and sucked on my breasts while I rode him. He didn’t last long after that, and a couple of minutes later, was cumming inside of me. It was something he and I had discussed beforehand, but I had expected a warning of some sort beforehand. I scolded him for that, and he laughed before kissing me again.

I stayed at Steve’s for the rest of the day, and ended up seeing him a couple more times while my Dad was building his house, so I’ve got more stories involving him that might come up.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/xno2ng/the_first_time_i_hooked_up_with_my_dads_client_fm