A Simple Request (closed for AmyRoberts)

[Fauxnication]

With his free hand, David Edwards rapped at the door before him. The other hand clutched his overnight bag, while a toolbox lay on the floor at his feet.

This wasn't the way he had planned to spend a weekend away from the office; no, he had hopes of hitting the driving range at some point and going on a dinner date with his wife, Michelle.

That was all before Samantha called, pleading with him to help her assemble a TV stand that she and her roommate ordered ("an impulse buy," as she put it) without having anything in the apartment to put it together with.

David loved his daughter to the ends of the Earth, but he even had to admit she had a habit of not thinking things all the way through.

So he drove the three hours straight from his office to her campus, not even bothering to stop at home. He had to settle for a drive-thru dinner, which wasn't the best meal he had ever eaten.

And now he stood outside her door in his untucked casual Friday polo shirt and a pair of jeans, waiting for her to open it. With some luck, he could have everything finished by the end of the night or early the next morning and be back on the road to salvage the weekend.

At least he hoped it would be that easy.

 

[AmyRoberts]

The woman who answered the apartment door was young, curvy, unbelievably beautiful, and dressed in a skin tight dancing dress that highlighted the perma-hard nipples on her modestly sized, pert titties and her long, lean luscious legs. What the woman was was a Goddess; what she wasn't was David Edwards' daughter.

"You must be Daddy," she said with a flirty tone as she looked the man up and down. Licking her lips, she purred, "My, my, daddy-o."

Giggling, she looked back over her shoulder and called toward the open sliding glass door, "Sammy! Your dad's here!"

As she passed by David on her way out, she caressed a hand over his chest. She blew him a kiss before telling him, "Too bad I've got a date."

"Melody, my God! Stop! That's my Dad!" Samantha Edwards called from the patio, just outside the doors. As she entered the apartment, she told David, "Ignore her, Daddy. She's a whore."

"I'm not a whore!" Melody called from out of sight down the hallway, adding as she laughed loudly, "I'm a slut!"

Sammy threw her arms around her father's torso and gave him a firm hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy. You don't know how much this means to me."

She backed away, smiling broadly up to him. "Ignore my roomie. She's not a whore and she's not a slut. She's just a flirt."

Sammy caught the way her father was looking at her almost-not-there clothing and crossed her arms over her Double D bosom. "Sorry. I know, it's horrible, isn't it. Sorry. It's just, well, I was sunning out on the patio, and I'm at college now. I'll go change into something more appropriate."

She turned and practically fled up the townhouse's stairs; her ass cheeks were more exposed by than hidden by the Daisy Duke cutoff jeans. She called down as she disappeared out of sight into her bedroom, "The entertainment center is right there in the living room. We got it all out of the box and everything, but then realized we had no fucking idea -- sorry -- no idea that it was so complicated."

When Sammy had called her father and described some of the instructions she didn't understand, he -- of course -- did. That's what Daddy's are for, she'd told Melody afterward. David had the necessary tools and knowledge, and like he was thinking, it would have been a simple hour or so long job and he'd be back on the road for the family home.

Except!

What Sammy hadn't told David because she hadn't noticed it, was that the center they'd purchased was 66 inches long, and the wall on which they were trying to fit it was only 62 from left to right. Not only that, but the furnace's floor vent was in the middle of that 62 inches, which meant that a hole had to be cut out of the middle of the bottom piece or it had to be lifted off the floor with blocks. Either of those would be an easy fix for David ... if he'd brought his circular saw or maybe a jigsaw, neither of which Sammy had thought to suggest.

David's thoughts of getting out of her tonight were fucked, unless he could come up with a quick fix.

"Anyway, I'm sure that you can get it together," Sammy was saying as she was now heading out of her room and back down the stairs. "And I'm hear to help, of course, so long as we can finish in under two hours 'cause I have a date, too!"

She'd stripped off her very revealing boobie-rang and replaced it with a cropped tee shirt, which in her mind was more appropriate because it covered her up more, yet it still clung tightly to her massive mamms and highlighted her big nipples. Down below, she'd switched the tiny denim shorts for a pair of a cotton jogging shorts which were too small and clung just as tightly to her full, muscular butt cheeks and, from the right angle, gave a hint at the camel toe at the front meeting of her thighs.

She reached her hands out to her sides and turned fully around, smiling and giggling. She asked playfully, "Better?"

Sammy had sort of gone wild after leaving home for University. Her mother, Michelle, had always been pretty strict about her daughter's wardrobe when she'd been a teen at home, and she would have pitched an absolute fit to see Sammy dressed as she was now, let alone how she'd been dressed earlier.

But it was summer and Sammy was at University and she was just a few months short of her 20th birthday and she wasn't a little girl anymore! So! This was how she was going to dress now!