Page 13 of Stuffed

Mom made her own whipped cream and carefully served a spoonful onto his slice.

“Autumn?” she asked.

“Oh, I already had some,” I smiled, directing my gaze to Jim, who pretended not to hear me.

“What’s that, dear?”

“Oh, nothing,” I smiled. “Yes, please. I love cream.”

“Jim,” my dad said as he took a bite. “Let’s chat after the meal’s over. I got something I’d like to run by you.”

“More work?” he asked. “I just got back!”

“No, nothing like that,” he said, his eyes on me. “Just something I’d like to ask you. It has to do with my little girl here.”

“What?” I asked as a bolt of panic hit me like a gunshot.

“Autumn?” Jim asked.

My father nodded. “Indeed.”

“Oh…okay,” Jim replied. “Sure.”

He looked relaxed, but I was suddenly tense.

“What are you talking about, pa?” I asked. “Why do you want to talk to Jim about me?”

“Why are you worried about it, lil’ girl?” my father smirked.

“It’s just…weird!” I protested. “Why can’t you just say it right now?”

“You don’t have to know everything, Autumn,” my dad smiled, stuffing his face with more pie.

Did my dad know? What did he want to talk to Jim about if not work? Why wouldn’t he just talk about it here?

Did I miss some cum on my face? I thought suddenly with a flush of panic and grabbed my napkin and dabbed at my face.

Or in my hair!?

I ran my hand through my bangs but didn’t feel anything wet. From my dad’s angle, there was no way he could have seen what was going on between us under the table, either.

So what was going on!?

Getting through dessert without being sick from anxiety was a job on its own, and when the meal was over and my mom and I were heading to the kitchen with armloads of dishes, I watched in horror as my dad threw his arm around Jim and led him out back to the porch.

Shoot me, I thought, realizing just how overzealous I’d been about this whole thing. If my dad knew and he was about to say something to Jim…

…well, let’s just say I was going to be mortified.

Damn your good looks, Jim, I thought as I watched them step outside. Damn ’em.

Chapter Six

Jim

As I stepped out into the evening air of the back yard with Randy, I was right on edge. Autumn, his daughter, had just blown me upstairs in his own house and then tried to grab my dick countless times under the table during Thanksgiving dinner, an

d now he wanted to have a private conversation with me away from his daughter and wife?

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