Colegialas De Verdad
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Being Dad free porn video
Being Dad
................
I guess I should be satisfied, my life is ok, I can get what I want at
the mall, I have my friends and my gear...but truth to tell, I am bored.
Yes, bored.
What do you get for the girl who has everything?
Excitement!
I was talking with my bff Amanda about this, and she agreed.
What good is having what you want if it's so easy to have it?
The thing that makes a goal most appealing is the fact that you CANNOT
have it, that it is "forbidden fruit". So, going after that would be the
great reward, the ultimate excitement.
"So," I asked her, "what exactly is it that we cannot have?"
"Well," she opined, "lotsa money?"
I wanted to agree, but really, whatever I whined enough for my folks
would give me.
Which led me to the next question:
"So if you had the money, what forbidden things would you get that you
cannot have now?"
That made her think a bit, but finally she came up with this:
"What we kids cannot have, that grownups can always have, is booze and
cigarettes and porn. So that means we should have those things, just to
find out why they are so prohibited."
I had to agree. Mandy was one sharp cookie.
"So then," I went on, "how do we go about harvesting this forbidden
fruit?"
Here, she was at a loss.
"Well," I persisted, "what strengths and assets do we have that we can
use against our parental types, to gain control of what should
rightfully be ours?"
"Hmmmm..." she mused, "there is our youth of course, which makes us
quick and agile..."
"Okay," I replied, "check that."
"And," she went on, "we are in lots of clubs and have access to stuff
through the school that they don't, like through our clubs and stuff."
"Meh," I said, "Band and chorus do not give me access to the halls of
power."
"No, perhaps," she agreed, "but I am in drama, abs art club! And we have
props and makeup and stuff like that which could be used for things like
special dark ops!"
Now it was my turn to muse. Hmmm...! Mandy did indeed have access to a
lot of stuff that could be useful, if you wanted to do a Mission
Impossible kind of operation.
Like disguises.
And mask making.
Oh, I so loved, and still watch, "Stone Pillow"!
"Sooo, Mandy," I purred, "are you suggesting that we could use disguise
to gain adult access to porn and booze and so on?"
She got alarmed. "Did I say that? I don't want to break the law! Can we
talk about something else?"
But I reassured her that she would not be legally exposed. All she had
to do was to concoct some legit drama or art project, such as making a
cast of my face and using it somehow, and I would take care of the rest,
the really risky part.
And so, a couple weeks later, we were in her basement with gesso and
plaster and some straws for my nose so that I could breathe, and so on.
And before too long, there we had a replica of my head and chest! You
might think that after being immersed in that goop I would be short of
breath, but it was really Amanda who seemed about to expire.
"I can't...(puff!) believe...(puff!) you really want to go through with
this! ... (puff!)...We'll go to jail, I know we will!!"
But I reassured her, as I got the mess out of my hair, that we would be
fine, just like the other times, when we sought excitement through
graffiti or shoplifting or whatever.
She was still nervous.
"Will it make you feel better if I let you choose the adult target for
our operation?"
She nodded.
"OK, Mandy, shoot."
"...your Dad..." she said.
Hmmm. It would be a challenge, but I always liked challenges. And I
never much liked him anyways, he was always such a stuffed shirt. I told
Many as much.
"Deal!" I exclaimed, to her surprise.
"Now let's prepare the mask!"
So I got the family scrapbook and we looked at his pics, such as they
were, and concocted a cold foam likeness of the old man, over the
framework of my plaster bust. I added frown lines around the eyes and
mouth, and across his forehead, by layering on a little latex and
stroking it with teasel, a spiky weed.
"You are going to look weird with his fleshy jowly face sitting on your
girlish body," Mandy observed.
"Tush" I retorted. "I'll just 'borrow' the quilted long johns he wears
for duck hunting, they'll plump me up. And I'll use an old pair of his
shoes, and stuff them with socks to raise me up an inch or two; it'll
help the shoes fit better, too."
"Hey, guess what?" my friend giggled.
"No clue," I said.
"With all that padding, you really will `be a 'stuffed shirt'!"
With that, I had to giggle too.
We bought a cheap brown plush winter coat at a thrift shop, and some
cheap glasses with black frames from the drug store, that had no
strength at all since my own eyesight was perfect. We cut off sections
of the plush and glued them onto the mask, a little scraggly bit for the
eyebrows, and more around the ears and neck, and left the rest bald,
just like dad.
With the glasses perched on the fake head, it looked eerily like Dad was
there in the basement spying on us.
I was glad to get out of there. But then I had to face the next
challenge, "borrowing" Dad's old clothes, and some ID.
That night while the parental units were sleeping, I went special black
ops and put on my black leotards and tights from dance class so that I
would blend into the shadows better, and slunk into their bedroom.
It would have been smarter to just wear my pajamas and have a good
excuse ready, since being caught in that outfit would look pretty fishy.
But it was more fun this way, more like Mission Impossible.
I was quiet as a cat burglar, and managed to first get Dad's wallet out
of his pants, and then his old brown suit that he never wears (the
hangers clattered! But only a little, and the 'rents didn't wake up), an
old shirt and tie from the back that he doesn't wear much, and I was
outta there.
I quickly used my all-in-one copier scanner printer to make copies of
both sides of his driver's license, and of some other ID like his
library card just in case, even a credit card although I knew it
wouldn't work without the magnetic strip. I could try substituting the
fake card and filching the real one, but he'd find out in a hurry and
then I truly would be in trouble. My copier made good hi rez images but
of course the paper was thin; we'd have to paste them onto heavy stock,
and then laminate them with plastic.
I went to the laundry and do a bunch of socks, and some rags I could use
for stuffing too. I also got a pair of his briefs. Eww, yeah I know,
they were used and smelly, it's a dirty job but somebody's gotta do it.
I hid the clothes between my mattress and springs; mom never makes my
bed, since I insist on privacy, so they would be safe from discovery
there. The shoes made a lump; I put them up under the pillow part so
they'd be less obvious.
Whew! My heart was racing a mile a minute. I skinned out of my black
duds and stashed them; maybe I'd need them later. I just lay on my now
lumpy-feeling bed in the nude, and shook all over.
But I had done it!
Fear is part of the rush, I believe.
Crap! Just as I was starting to relax, I realized that I had forgotten
to return Dad's wallet! I quickly stuffed everything back in it, in as
close to the same order as I could recall, pulled on a nightie, and
crept back in their room. I was just putting the wallet back in place
when Dad sat up!
"Well excuse me!" he snorted. "Here's the girl who insists on keeping
her own bedroom private and off limits, breaking into ours! Care to
explain yourself?"
My hand was still in the pocket of his pants; I had to think quickly.
"Dad," I drooped my head down, and looked and sounded guilty, "I made a
bet with Mandy about who could be the first to get Matt to kiss her, and
she won. I know you don't like me to go betting on things, so I figured
you wouldn't willingly give me the cash to pay her off, so..." I let my
voice trail off.
"And you were right!" he retorted. "Your punishment will be to find a
way to raise the money yourself, something legitimate. You seem to have
an allergy to work; maybe a few chores will raise the cash to pay off
your bet, and be a good character lesson for you!"
So I got to do the laundry, ironically, and sort out old clothes for the
rag bag, which was also ironic. If I had waited, I could have stolen
what I needed with zero risk.
The end result was that I got access to extra stuff, got some cash I
didn't really need (but it actually went to pay for the plush coat and
the glasses), and they never suspected a thing.
Next day while the folks were out during the day, I got ahold of Dad's
quilted long johns. I could have taken the other stuff that way too, it
would have been safer, but where's the fun in that? I also went to Mom's
home office where she keeps the family records, and took a checkbook off
the bottom of the stack.
I got Mandy to call and invite me to an overnight Friday through Sunday
at her place. What I packed in my bags was not just jeans and undies
though, it was the clothes and ID for the disguise!
We got some heavy card stock and cut it to fit Dad's cards; then we
glued the fronts and backs in place. Finally we went downtown to the bus
station where they had a machine that would laminate anything for you
(who knows why? Maybe people who ride the bus need to make fake
documents too?). When we were done, the cards and licenses looked
completely real. Of course if you scanned the driver's license, what
looked like a hologram would not read properly and the forgery would be
discovered. But most clerks are too busy to scan it, they just check to
see if it looks like you. That's what we were hoping for.
The final step was to take Dad's briefs, which I had washed and dried,
and sew a pair of socks inside the front of them, to give the appearance
of a guy's balls. Neither one of us are very good with needle and
thread, but it didn't look too weird; if you weren't suspecting a
disguise, you might not notice anything was wrong.
First I put on a guy's undershirt, to help flatten me in front. Then
came the long johns, they looked so comical. His socks on my feet. His
old shirt , open at the neck for now; then the pants, which had to be
very tightly belted. We stuffed the toes of the shoes with rags, and
when I put my feet in we slid as many socks under and around my feet as
we could. It was kinda wobbly for walking; I'd have to practice so I
didn't look too unusual when I walked around.
Then the HEAD! I tugged it on, making sure my mouth and nose and eyes
and ears were all properly fitted. I slid his lips over mine, and
snugged his nostrils up into mine. We took a little latex and ran it
under the place where his eyelids met mine, and smoothed that edge down.
Then the glasses.
I looked at myself. It was creepy.
I raised an eyebrow; he raised an eyebrow.
I pursed my lips, he pursed his lips.
"Why hello there Ashleigh," I said in his gruff tenor that he wishes was
a baritone, "what are you doing inside my face?"
And I snorted, and his face snorted too.
So I tucked the edge of the mask down inside the shirt, buttoned it up,
and tied the tie. I had done ties before but never the style he did,
with a Windsor knot; I messed it up badly. We went online for
instructions and after maybe an hour- !!!- finally got it almost all
right.
But Mandy was unhappy.
"Did you notice anything while you were messing with that tie?"
"Uh, nope, just how hard it was...? And how little help you were?!"
"Your hands, dummy!"
"What about them?"
"Just look!"
So I looked, and didn't notice anything. I always had nice hands, long
slender fingers, a good manicure...oops....
Amanda nodded. "You can't go signing checks with hands like that!"
Hmmm.
So we pilfered her mom's rubber gloves from the kitchen, and covered
them with latex, and scored the knuckles with the teasel to make fine
lines, and tapped the spiky parts of the teasel over the backs of each
hand, and the fingers, to make pores. I couldn't be bothered to
duplicate his hairy knuckles, many guys didn't have hairy knuckles,
nobody should notice that.
We had to go to the drug store and get several sets of large untinted
fingernails, and then use just the biggest four (thumb and middle
finger) from each set, but they looked okay when they were in place,
Then I thought I was finally ready. Let's get this over with, it's
sweaty under this thing.
But Mandy was not yet satisfied.
"Your teeth!" she insisted.
"Nobody's gonna notice my teeth!" I complained.
But she insisted, so we tried to age them with some yellow food
coloring. That was too bright, so we added some red and green, and
finally my poor teeth looked suitably brown.
"Will I ever get my lovely white teeth back?" I mourned.
"Probably not!" was Mandy's perky reply. I tried to clobber her, but I
fell over. Damned wobbly shoes anyway.
So finally it was time to take this show on the road. First I went down
to the corner convenience store. Nobody raised an eyebrow, even when I
stumbled against the newspaper rack. "Can I use a check, Joe?" I asked,
in an unconvincing voice. "My wife borrowed the credit card."
"Sure thing, no prob," Joe said. "Good customer like you? Any time."
I/Dad smiled reassuringly. I got two cartons of smokes and a six pack,
plus a girly mag that must be X rated because it was wrapped in plastic
and I had to sign for it. I asked if I could get some cash back and once
again it was no problem. So I wrote out the amount for thirty extra. I
had forged Dad's signature many times, unbeknownst to him, so that was
easy.
"Sorry but I do need the license, for the number" Joe apologized. I
tried not to look nervous, but he just wrote down the number, had me
sign for the transaction, and it was all done.
I nodded my thanks, in a businesslike way, and left.
Down the street was the liquor store. I walked in and bought a fifth of
reasonably priced- well, cheap- vodka. "ID?" said the guy.
"What, you gonna card an old man like me?" I tried to joke with him.
"If I don't card, I can lose this gig," the guy shrugged. So he took the
driver's license, looked from it at me and back again. This was taking
too long. What was wrong?
"You're not wearing glasses in this photo," the guy finally said.
"Oh, that!" I laughed with relief. "See, it does say 'corrective
lenses'? I got tired of messing with contacts, wetting solution, getting
them in and out, dropping them on the floor and hunting for them, so I
just went back to specs." Which was exactly what had happened, which was
why he now wore glasses all the time.
"OK" the guy said nonchalantly. "Can't be too careful".
And I walked away with our booze.
One more middle aged drunkard on the way home.
Finally I went to Adult World. I had to show ID at the door, which I
expected. They looked me up and down. I was sweating badly now; did it
show around my eyes? The socks under my feet were squishing down flat,
so the shoes were getting looser and wobblier.
The clerk went back to the office; I could see him showing my license to
the manager, and they were talking together. Finally they both came out.
"Give me your Social" said the manager. "Why?" I replied belligerently.
Now was not the time for weakness. "Because I say so" was the only
reply.
I had used Dad's number before, ordering stuff online, so with a little
effort I remembered it satisfactorily. Both guys just shrugged and
nodded to each other, and let me in.
These videos were more expensive than I had expected. I guess the demand
must be pretty high.
Finally I settled for a used one that looked like it might at least be
funny.
I gave the clerk my cash, and he gave me a funny look again but said ok
and I left.
I couldn't wait to get back to Mandy's, although it occured to me that
anybody seeing my Dad go in there might wonder what was up.
Down in her basement, I was so eager to get that mask off. It was
slippery with sweat, and popped right off.
"Hey, did you know you smell nice?" Mandy asked.
"Of course," I sniffed, "I always use scented body wash, and a decent
deodorant."
"Hm. but does your dad?" she asked.
Crap! My lack of foresight had almost got me discovered. Mandy ran
upstairs and liberated her Dad's deodorant and after shave from the
bathroom, and I applied them.
"Ugh, this odor is enough to gag a maggot!" I groused. Mandy thought it
was hilarious.
So we tried a smoke or two, and agreed we couldn't see what the appeal
was, although it did look sexy to dangle one out of your mouth. But it
also made us cough, and got our eyes red.
"At least your eyes and voice are more like your Dad's now," Mandy
offered. How true. I was hoarse and coughing, and my eyes were red, just
like him.
Next we tried the vodka. It burned but wasn't all that bad. Mandy got
some cranberry juice from upstairs, and with enough of that mixed in it
was pretty tasty.
The magazine was just a joke, full of ads for impotence cures, pathetic.
The pics were obviously photoshopped.
"Are you aroused?" my friend asked.
"Nah, but these are for guys you realize. Maybe the video will be
better?"
So we tried that, and it was at least funny. We just laughed and
laughed. So maybe we did not get aroused at the sight of that guys
massive member- well maybe just a bit- but we did have fun!
So now we were hoarse and a little drunk, and maybe not thinking too
straight, and Mandy said "Well, 'Daddy', how are you going to get these
clothes and things back home?"
"The same way I got them in the first place, by sneaking around like a
commando?" I offered.
"Nope," she said. "What if you get caught? Doing the same thing would be
a lot harder to explain the second time around."
Well, that did make me think.
Finally I got a brainwave. "I'll just go back as Dad! I can walk right
in the bedroom and undress, and get rid of all this stuff- we can leave
the cards here- and as long as Mom doesn't see the long johns I'll be
home free!"
"Won't your Dad already be there?"
"No, he's at a planning retreat for his office."
"Okay then."
Neither one of us considered that we would end up with Dad disappearing
and me reappearing at the same time without any explanation. I never
drank very much before, but I have learnt a lesson. Booze makes you
stupid.
So I just sauntered on home.
"Oh Hi, honey!" Mom said. She gave my fake cheek a peck; I hoped it
didn't taste like rubber.
"I thought you were at a retreat?"
"Yeah" I tried to grumble, "But the Old Man got the flu so we all
combined everything into a one-shot meeting and went home. So much of
these things are just a waste of time anyway."
She grinned. "That's what you always say. So, enjoy! Sit down and relax,
I'll get you your favorite martini."
"Thanks honey" I rasped. It was easier to sound like Dad because of my
cigarette hoarseness, but no way did I want more booze. Besides, I hate
olives, and Dad always chews his up first thing, and says "Yum".
So Mom made me a martini and got herself an Old Fashioned, and we
watched the local news together.
I chewed my olive- slowly! "Yum," I said, but without obvious
enthusiasm.
Mom looked at me. "Something wrong, dear?"
"I dunno, maybe I'm coming down with a touch of the flu myself; I don't
feel so great."
"Yeah, you look a little off somehow. Well, since Ashleigh's not here,
we can have lamb stew, she hates that. It's ready when you are. Then you
can just relax."
Oh my God. That greasy stuff? How was I going to choke it down?
But I forced down the martini, and stumbled into the kitchen, where I
got a heaping pile of baby sheep meat on my plate.
Every time mom went to the stove, or turned away, I would reach under
the table and feed our dog a hunk of meat. That way I got through the
meal okay.
"Well, you've at least easten well!" she beamed.
"Oh you know I love your cooking, dear," I said.
With the extra alcohol and the greasy meat, I was sure I was gonna barf,
but I held it back. I made my way to the bedroom and as quickly as
possible shed the suit, shoes, shirt and tie, and covered up my long
johns with a henley collar style pair of pajamas. I kept my socks on,
hoping they would provide enough disguise; my feet still looked
unusually small. But without the socks, the sparkly toenail polish would
look even more unusual!
I put on some slippers but they looked too big so I just went with the
socks. Back I/Dad went into the family room, in front of the tv; Mom was
already there, this was the usual routine.
"You want the remote, hon?" she asked.
"Nah, you choose," I rasped.
"Whoa, you really must be ill," she said, and actually seemed a little
worried now.
I tried to lean back in the recliner and look like I was relaxing.
Unfortunately, something in the change of posture made the sock in my
shorts change position.
"Oh hello!" Mom had noticed. "Are we standing to attention there? Maybe
you're not as ill as you think!"
"Ah, erm, nah, I just gotta pee," I temporized. I stumbled to the
bathroom.
Shit! She was getting turned on. What would I do if she started to
undress me?
I was fumbling with the sock, which had come partly loose- I told you I
was not good at sewing- when the front door opened.
"Hi honey, I'm home," came my Dad's voice.
"Well, of course you are!" she said.
"Hunh?" he replied. "But I just now walked in the door! The Old Man got
the flu so we all combined everything into a one-shot meeting and went
home. So much of these things are just a waste of time anyway."
At least I had got his typical spiel down pat!
"Yes, that's what you said already...are you really ill?" she asked.
"Said already? Nonsense! Just let me drop my load and then we'll sort
this out."
He walked in on me there in the bathroom.
"Help! A doppleganger!" he screamed.
Mom rushed in and saw us both together, and almost fainted. Then she
said " I don't know who's who, but the cops can sort this out! So grab
the fake until they get here" and she went for the kitchen phone and
started dialing 911.
Dad grabbed at me, and tore off the pajama top.
Underneath were the long johns, with the mask sitting on top as obvious
as anything.
He was tugging at me, trying to restrain me.
I ran into the living room, and grabbed his ashtray and whacked him over
the head with it. Down he went in a heap. "Sorry Dad, I hope you're not
dead" I whimpered as I ran out the back door.
I ran all the way to Mandy's down the alleys and back streets, into her
back yard. I rapped on her bedroom window (so glad it was on the ground
floor!) once, then two times, then three times, our secret code.
She opened the window and I clambered inside.
"Quick, hide this stuff and get me my own bags!" I pleaded. As she
complied, I explained the situation. We decided to tell out folks that
the two of us had been fighting, and that I wanted to come right home.
Furiously I brushed my teeth again and again, getting them at least a
little bit whiter.
In a few minutes Mom drove up. "You missed the excitement!" she
exclaimed. "We had an intruder, who looked just like your Dad- and I
almost took him to bed!"
"Whoa, that does sound exciting" I agreed. "Do they know who it was?"
"No clue, although old Mrs. Jones said she saw him running through her
back alley. But you know, she's getting on in years and doesn't always
get her facts straight."
She did this time, I thought, but was glad she wasn't a real credible
witness.
So it was a memorable evening, and they were both eager to tell me the
details. "Honey, your eyes are red!" Mom exclaimed. "Oh, I've just been
crying because I don't like it when Amanda and I fight" I explained.
Finally it was time for bed. "Give us a kiss," they said, so I did.
Mom wrinkled up her nose.
"Are you using a new deodorant?" she asked.
Crap! I hadn't washed it off.
So much for excitement!
I swear this will last me for awhile.
Like, at least a month.
Kaidence
- 24.07.2020
- 7
- 0
