Dad Daughter and Dog

I’ve seen quite a few posts regarding getting caught in the act and thought I’d throw in my two cents worth.

Dad, Daughter, and Dog

The back screen door slammed shut as Kellie returned home from her evening jog. Her father Al sat in his easy chair behind his newspaper. “That you, honey?”

Kellie snorted, “It better be or there’ll be trouble!” Rex, her shepherd dog, made klik-klik noises on the linoleum with his nails. The two had been inseparable since he arrived in the house a tiny puppy.

“Can you come in the living room for a minute?”

“Sure.” She walked in lean and lithe, barely five feet tall, tiny breasts held in a sports bra and tank top, tight bottom in running shorts, her chestnut hair tied back in a pony tail. She had been an active child from the moment she could walk with ballet and gymnastic classes from her preschool years. Kellie had been only seven when her mother had died. That’s when she took up running, although running to or running from, she was never quite sure. “What is it, Dad?”

Al closed his newspaper, folded it, folded it again, and dropped it into his lap. He stared at it as he began. “I wasn’t sure how to say this until just now.” He looked up into his daughter’s eyes. “I saw you go into the garage.”

Kellie froze unbreathing. She gripped the back of her father’s chair to steady a light-headed swaying. “What?”

“Through the kitchen window. I saw you go into the garage a little while ago. While you were supposed to be out running.”

“B-b-but I was out running!” Her grip on the chair tightened.

“Maybe for twenty minutes. Then I saw you go into the garage. You didn’t come out right away and I didn’t know if something might be wrong, so I went out and looked in the window. You didn’t even look up. You were too busy helping Rex gettin–.” Kellie’s knees gave out. She crumpled to the floor. Silent tears ran down her cheeks. Rex trotted over and licked her face.

“Honey, please don’t cry. You’re far too old to spank even if you were doing something wrong.” He laid his hand atop her head. She slumped over to rest her cheek on the arm of the chair. “Remember what I told you when your mother died?”

She nodded slightly. “You said, ‘you and me, pal.’ I remember.”

“That’s right. And we have to be honest with each other, and trust each other, and love each other, no matter what.”

“S-s-so you’re not m-mad at me?” She sniffled. Rex licked her nose. She gently pushed him away.

“No honey. I am *concerned*, which is a different thing. Why are you having sex with your dog out in the garage?”

She looked up smiling and weeping at the same time. “Da-a-a-ad!” she said as if he were telling the United States Congress that she still enjoyed playing with dolls and coloring books. Her cheeks reddened.

“Honesty and trust, remember? So, how long have you and Rex been… uh, fucking?” He wasn’t sure he should drop the F-Bomb into the conversation. He trusted that it felt right.

“Just a few months, ever since Barry and me broke up.”

“Barry and I,” he corrected without thinking. “But why out in the garage? It’s dirty and dank and I can’t imagine it being much fun.” She looked up at him wide-eyed.