Dad

I was laying on my bed, heart still moving quickly, when I heard a slow knock on my door. I called "come in," and in walked my dad, with a smile on his face, as usual. He wass just there to tell me that him and mom picked up lunch on the way home. I was relieved that he doesn't say anything about the jockys. He probably didn't even notice I'd picked them up, since I left them right where they were. Phew.

Acting casual, I asked him if they found anything good at the store. He said they got a couple nice dresses for mom, some new shoes and some jockys for him. That last part caught me completely off guard.

"I actually didn't own any," he said," and wanted a pair for my soccer league this summer. Anyway, let's go get some food."

I couldn't understand it. Was he fucking with me? I figured that was unlikely, since my parents had always been very upfront with me. One time, I had left my underwear in their closet after wanking with mom's panties pressed against my nose. When they returned home, mom came into my room and handed me my underwear, asking why they were there. On my feet, I spewed some bullshit about doing laundry.

"Honey, please don't lie to me. It's rude to poke around other peoples' things." I apologized to mom, and everything went back to normal that time.

I figured dad was clueless to my finding his jocky. Then why did he say he didn't own one? Why couldn't he just wash the one he came into?

Then I ate lunch, and almost forgot about it.