12 comments/ 35285 views/ 27 favorites My Best Friends Father Ch. 07 By: _Kushiel_ We exited the shower and Mr P gently dried my body off, handing me a separate towel for my hair. I had quite a large lump on my skull, and it was still very tender. Instead of towelling my hair dry I simply wrapped it all up in the fluffy cloth and left it at that. Making our way out of the bathroom, Mr P wrapped his towel around his waist and took my hand. I had thought perhaps he would let me pop into my room and grab some clothes to throw on, even if only a pair of panties and bra, but such was not the case. When he led me past my door I baulked, pulling to a stop in the hallway. "Mr P, I need to put some clothes on." I said dumbly. He stopped and turned to me, a serious look in his eyes, "Why?" He asked. Instantly my mind flashed on an image of a parent being faced with a curious child asking that incessant question whenever anything was said. "Ah," I stammered. "Because, I'm naked?" I tried my hardest not to let the incredulity I felt at the obvious seep through in my voice. I evidently failed because Becky's father laughed. Genuinely amused, his rich, throaty chuckle echoed off the walls, before he sighed happily. "Mmm, yes you are." I flushed with embarrassment and not a little annoyance, thinking that Mr P was making fun of me, but his next words dispelled such thoughts. His deep, sensuous voice stroked my body and my ego as surely as his hands could. "And so very beautiful a naked body it is too. It would be an indiscriminate crime to cover it up so soon. Do you remember what I said earlier? I enjoy looking at it entirely too much honey, I love seeing you naked." I flushed in self-conscious pleasure at his words, colour creeping all the way from my navel up to my cheeks. My breasts glowed a deep rosy red and my nipples tightened all on their own. "You see?" Mr P said as he ran a fingertip lightly over my collarbone and down along the rise of my breast, stopping to draw circles around my tightened nipple. "If you'd have been clothed, I wouldn't have been able to see this. And I like being able to see how your body reacts." He clasped my nipple gently between his thumb and forefinger and tugged on it a couple of times before gripping it lightly and shaking my breast up and down, making my flesh jiggle on my chest. My clit tingled immediately in response. He smiled. He led me then, naked, past my room and into the kitchen. "Hungry?" He asked, like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. I stood in the centre of the kitchen feeling exposed, feeling... well "naked!" Self-consciously I rubbed my hands up and down along my arms while Mr P puttered around in the fridge and cupboards, grabbing this and that to throw together a snack. "We can't live on lust alone, the mind might be willing but the body definitely isn't." He said conversationally, as his stomach rumbled noisily. It was late afternoon by this time and food had been forgotten for the last sixteen hours. I giggled inanely at the testament of his hunger, and in response heard my own stomach growl hungrily. I giggled again as Mr P smiled at me, his deep brown eyes taking in my whole body, devouring me with his eyes so much my body blushed again and my giggles subsided. He stopped what he was doing and leaned against the counter, his eyes snaring me in their trap yet again. "Come here." He ordered. His voice was soft... so soft, and I felt my whole being shifting towards him without thought. His eyes held mine captive until the very last second, until I felt his hands sliding in against my hips, holding me as he leant in to kiss me. My eyes fluttered, shattering the spell, and I closed them slowly as I offered up my lips to Mr P. His kiss was sparing, light, teasing; so soft and lingering... and it took my breath away. Up until now it had been all animal lust and hot teasing, this ... this was soft, sensual, full of such passion I swooned, falling against his body, clinging to him for support. As we parted from that amazing kiss, our breathing heavy even though the kiss had been so slow and gentle, I looked up into Mr P's soulful brown eyes and saw in them a tiny spark of something more growing in their depths. Something that both excited me and scared the living shit out of me. It was the promise of something new, something deeper, and far more life-changing. I think I swallowed a lump the size of a tennis ball from my throat as my mouth became parched and my palms grew sweaty. It was on the tip of my tongue to say... ready to burst past the censor of my brain. It was right on the tip of my tongue... but just as I was ready to speak it, both our heads shot up as our ears pricked, hearing a key turning in the lock of the front door. My eyes flew wide in shock... as I realised, I was standing naked in the kitchen... as I realised that more than likely Becky was going to come through that door. I just about fainted from fear as I thought about running down the hall to hide away my naked body. Mr P being the more sensible one of us, quickly grabbed at my head, pulling the towel from my hair and wrapped it around me in a practiced flick. I was just tucking the end back into a fold, when Becky walked into the kitchen and froze. Her eyes grew wide and then I saw the hurt and accusation that filled them as she stared at me. I felt like the worst friend in the world right then, lower than pond scum. I would have happily fallen at her feet and begged for her forgiveness, but as it was I didn't have a chance, as anger flashed in her eyes and she spun on her heel, heading for her room. I held my breath again feeling the sting of tears at the loss of our friendship. "Wait here." Mr P's soft words brought me back to the present. I looked at him with brimming eyes and nodded. He left me standing in the kitchen as he made his way down the hall and into Becky's bedroom. To begin with I heard nothing, standing in the kitchen, anxiously straining my ears in hopes that I might catch a stray word here and there. I thought, "Well at least they aren't yelling so it must be going all right," but then to my eternal dismay I began to hear an increase in the volume of their voices. The words were still low enough to be outside my range of hearing, but as the volume grew, they became clearer. "... can't we all just sit down and talk about this like adults?" Mr P's voice drifted out to me. "I don't want to sit down and talk about any of this... this... this, whatever it is!" Came Becky's angry reply. "Becky, you're being unreasonable and stubborn." I heard Mr P say and cringed at his choice of words. That was definitely something you didn't say to an upset female. Becky's voice rose another octave. "Unreasonable? Stubborn? Well I wonder why! It isn't every day a girl comes home to find the house trashed, thinking that something terrible has happened, that you might have been hurt or worse! And then to rush in and find the last thing I would ever have expected to find. My Father molesting my best friend!" There was a slight pause before Becky continued. "My Ex-best friend." "Becky that's unfair and you know it. I was not molesting her and Erika is still your best friend. Don't take this out on her." Mr P's voice remained somewhat calm and at an even level. "It's not her fault." "Dad, she stopped being my best friend the moment she betrayed me and fell into bed with you!" Becky replied with acid in her voice. My knees felt weak and I fell into the kitchen chair behind me. I wrapped my arms across my stomach and rocked, feeling ill inside. Tears trailed down my cheeks unabashedly and I sniffed loudly as I hung my head. I'd known from the start that this was just too big to forgive, and I cursed my weak will at letting it go this far. "Why is this so hard for you to accept?" Mr P queried angrily. "Why? Why? My God Dad! She's my age, she's my age!" Becky cried repeatedly. "She practically grew up in this house and you've known her nearly as long as you've known me. She's my best friend and she's young enough to be your goddamn daughter!" "Oh, so that's it is it? If she were twenty-nine or thirty-two you wouldn't have a problem with this? Is it just because she's so young that you're acting like this? Or is it simply because it's Erika that you're acting like this? If it was some other young thing you didn't know, would you be this upset?" Mr P's voice was loud now, angry though still well in control. There was a shocked pause. "Oh I cannot believe you Dad! Mum was right, you are a freak!" I gasped to myself in the kitchen as my body jerked upright. I could almost see the verbal blow as it struck Mr P in the face and my eyes and mouth widened in shock that Becky would say something like that to her father. The man that had looked after her for so many years, loved her, cared for her. But then anger and hurt made one want to anger and hurt someone else in return, and as human nature goes, that's what was happening now. There was another heavy pause in their conversation before Mr P's voice asked almost too quietly for me to hear. "And what's that supposed to mean?" "Oh Mum told me all about how you changed towards the end of the marriage. How you were always looking elsewhere, how you wanted to do all kinds of freaky shit!" Becky accused. "Deny it!" "Deny what?" Now I could hear the edge in Mr P's voice, I could hear the hurt, the frustration, and the anger from his past. Obviously he'd never discussed his side of the divorce with Becky in any great depth before now, but as he spoke, I came to realise that he was going to lay it all out in the open for her right at this pivotal moment. "Deny what Becky? That I'm a red blooded male with a need for sex? That I'm like any other man on this planet with wants and desires, wants and desires that your mother didn't share?" "Oh what a load of bull! I don't want to hear it Dad." Becky cut in. "Too friggin' bad." Mr P countered. "You started this. You wanted to know the truth of the matter, well you're going to hear it; right now. I never once looked elsewhere for sex. I never once cheated on your mother, that was all her. She's the one the guilty conscience. And all that "freaky shit" as you so aptly put it, was nothing more than trying to spice up our flagging sex life. I shouldn't have even tried since she was already getting it from someone else. "I asked your mother to wear a couple of outfits for me. I bought her a toy or two to play with in the bedroom, hoping that I might be able to play with her as well. And I made the mistake of admitting that I liked to feel in control every once in a while, ordering her around now and then. If that's what you call freaky, then hey, I guess I bloody well am. But don't lump me in the same category as Vanessa, because I was loyal right down to the last minute of our marriage. Right down to the last second! "She's the one that threw it away like so much garbage. Do you know how many times we had sex during the last two years of our marriage? Once a bloody month, once a month, Becky... if I was lucky. But even then, I never once looked for another woman to take the edge off, even though I could have. I didn't. And for that, for being who I am, doing the honourable thing and sticking with my wife, my family, I get this? This shitty little attitude from you? And why? Why because for the first time in four years I've actually found someone that makes me happy, makes me feel alive again, makes me feel like I'm not alone anymore? Someone who just happens to be your best friend? "I won't apologise for being me anymore Becky, and I certainly won't apologise to trying to be happy. If you can't accept that, if you can't for one second be happy for me too, then too bloody bad! Do you know what really kills me? The fact that I thought I'd raised you better than that!" Mr P's verbal barrage ended with a heavy, frustrated breath. He made his way back into the kitchen and me. I realised I had risen from my chair unknowingly, anticipating his return. My eyes had dried, the tears no longer threatening just on the cusp of spilling over, as I mentally processed everything I had overheard. He stood in the doorway, his shoulders tensed, his chest heaving a little, his fists clenched at his sides, and in his eyes I could see an old anger, eclipsed by an even greater pain. A hurt, that even now still ran deep. I felt my heart go out to him, a need in me welling up to offer some comfort, no matter how small, and without even thinking I raised my hands and opened my arms to him. He was across the floor in two long strides, his arms engulfing my small frame as I wrapped my own about his shoulders and hugged him as tightly as I could. Mr P squeezed me so hard I thought my ribs might crack but I never once thought about releasing him, or making him release me. As I stood there hugging him, letting a hand stroke against the back of his head, trying to offer him comfort in my arms. I felt his breath leave his chest in a great shudder as he tucked his face into my neck. His skin and breath burned mine as I realise he was fighting back tears. I was quickly on the edge of tears again, this time though, not for me but for him. For his hurt, for his heartache. It was a strangely sobering experience. I leaned back from him a little; his arms tightened further thinking I was pulling away from him. To reassure him that that wasn't the case I quickly squeezed his shoulders and spoke. "Here..." I said trying to turn, trying to shift Mr P's position. He couldn't have been comfortable bent nearly double because of my shortened stature. I was standing on tippy toes as it was. He cooperated by moving with me a little as I smiled gently and whispered, "Sit." His large frame descended onto the seat I had vacated, his arms still wrapped securely around my body as his change in elevation eased the pressure on both of our spines. His face dropped lower, but he still wouldn't look up at me; instead he buried his head against my ribcage, his powerful arms bunching tight as he squeezed me even harder into his embrace. I stood between his parted thighs, my knees pressed against the rim of the seat as I let my arms fall back around his shoulders. Enfolding his neck once more, I let my hands hold the back of his head, gently stroking his hair, imparting as best I could the sympathy and compassion I felt deep inside me as I gazed down on his head. After a few moments, I lifted my eyes and stared out of the kitchen window unseeingly, my mind drifting off as I just stood there holding him. Thoughts of how hard this was for him circled over and over through my brain and I realised how selfish I had been to concentrate wholly on my own problems. I never once took into consideration how this would affect Mr P and Becky's relationship, or even whatever tentative relationship Mr P still held with Becky's mother, Vanessa. Becky was this man's daughter for heaven's sake. Me? I was just the daughter's friend that Mr P just happened to find a little bit attractive and liked to fuck. If push came to shove I was sure that the familial bond would endure. I swallowed and pushed the thought aside, it was something I didn't want to think about. I sighed lightly as I let my eyes drop back to the top of his head. I caught a movement in my peripheral vision and my head snapped around. Becky stood there, a bag in her hand. She had been crying, I could see, and again I felt that awful feeling in the pit of my stomach as I looked at her. I don't know how long she'd been standing there, and I couldn't stop the little jerk of nervous fright that made my body twitch within Mr P's arms. I felt like I was being caught in the act all over again. I stared at her for only a few moments, the tears that were so close to the surface for Mr P finally spilled over, falling on my cheeks as I silently pleaded with my eyes for her forgiveness. If not for me; then at least for her father. He really didn't deserve her anger, didn't deserve her recrimination. He was only human, hell we both were and sometimes life wasn't so straight-laced. Sometimes you just can't choose who your heart will desire. It seemed Becky hesitated for a moment, teetering on the edge of a decision that might afford her father some kind of amnesty from her wrath, and my heart fluttered as hope infused my chest. That hope died near before it was born. Taking in the scene before her, I saw Becky's eyes change sadly as she shook her head and turned on her heel. She walked away. I heard the front door open and close. It didn't slam, it closed. Quietly. That at least must have been a sign? I thought to myself as I turned my head back to Mr P. Becky's anger might not have been so great, now that she'd heard a few truths from her father... no, her anger might not have been so great, but it was fresh. Hope cautiously welled within me again. Maybe, just maybe; Becky would end up forgiving us ... would end up accepting us? I held my breath and said a little prayer. My hands continued stroking Mr P's hair. I thought he heard the door close, and the pressure of his arms eased a fraction around my waist. I gazed down on the top of his head, feeling his arms holding me, seeking comfort from me, and I felt my heart aching in my chest. I trailed a hand gently down the side of his face, cupping a cheek and letting my thumb stroke back and forth, trying to impart to him just how much this moment meant to me, how much his pain affected me. My thumb brushed beneath his eye and I felt there the dampness that dotted his lashes. It was at that precise moment when I knew I was lost. Irrevocably, undeniably, unequivocally, and totally lost. My heart shuddered to a halt, painful beneath my breastbone, as it beat its last as the Erika I was. Three seconds later it lurched back into the new rhythm of the Erika I was to become. I gazed down once more and though tears blurred my sight, I smiled a smile of joy as I realised that without exception, everything I was and everything I would ever be, now belonged to the man in my arms. For as long as he would have me, he had my heart and my soul... he had my love. Whether I fully understood, at that moment, what that meant, I'm not entirely certain and looking back now I know that I didn't ... but I digress. An unquenchable need rose in me to be closer to him, but to do that I had to pull away. Gently but firmly I cupped Mr P's face and drew it away from my stomach, lifting his chin as I pushed backwards against his entwining arms. I tried to step back a little. He resisted. His hands gripped the back of my towel in an effort to keep me within the circle of his arms. I smiled, lifting his chin higher, raising his face and his eyes so that I could see them. What I saw in them as he finally looked up at me, made my heart bleed for him. All that old pain, refreshed, resurfaced, and laid bare for me to see. His eyes were a little red, his lashes damp and in the depths of those soulful brown eyes I espied a fear that he would be hurt again like he had been before. I softened my smile, bringing both hands up to stroke and touch his face, to explore his features like a blind person might, feeling with their fingertips to inscribe an image in their mind. I took a small step back, leaning down towards his upturned face, bringing my face, my lips, ever closer to his. Gently, with eyes wide open, I brushed my lips against his. Because of my movement Mr P's hands rested upon my hips and I felt his fingertips sink into my flesh as I kissed him softly, his eyes staring into mine, searching them for something only he could find. I pulled back, my hands still cupping his face, caressing his skin, as I let him search. In my eyes, I hoped he could see everything I felt for him. Every small emotion, every thought, I wanted him to know it, to feel it, to understand it and trust in it wholly. My Best Friends Father Ch. 07 I still had that need inside me to be closer to him, so I did the only thing I could think of. Slowly, still staring into his eyes, a soft smile on my face, I unhurriedly sidestepped his legs, parting my thighs as I did, so I could sink gently onto his lap. His hands never once left my hips, our eyes never once breaking the contact as we shared something deep and powerful between us. My fingers danced over his features, caressing his cheeks, his nose, his lips, as I burned his image into the cells of my brain for all time. I couldn't help it, I needed to touch him, to feel him, and god I needed to feel him touch me, hold me; I needed him to be mine. Mr P's hands finally relinquished their hold of my hips as he brought them up to take hold of my face as well. His calloused fingers, so gentle and tender on my skin, caressed my face as I did his. His fingers sought to implant the memory of my face in his mind, as I did to him. I leant in slowly for another soft, enduring kiss, my lips supple and full against his as over and over again I reshaped them to kiss him once more. Gradually, I felt his lips part and I parted my own, the soft kiss deepening as our tongues met each other's across the bridge of our lips. Softly, languidly, tentatively our tongues touched. Fear of an unknown future filled both of our souls as for the second time we shared a delicate kiss that was more than just sex. My heart thudded, measured and steady, not like the high voltage staccato I was used to. And in my body was a slow burn of fervour that neither ached to be filled nor longed for release. It was a burn that I could endure for eternity so long as I was within Mr P's arms. Becky's father's hands trailed down the length of my neck, lightly caressing my skin, stroking so ephemerally against my body he was hardly touching me. It was enough to make my eyes close as the emotion that welled up inside me threatened to overwhelm my senses. I let my fingers sink into his hair, clinging to him like an anchor, a saviour, as the tumultuous storm inside me raged. The slow burn grew until the fire I felt set my small frame ablaze as heat suffused my form down to the very tips of my toes. I felt his incredibly strong hands, gently caressing my collarbone, his touch so delicate that he might have been working with glass. His slow fingers worked their way down and halted at the fold of my towel. With trembling hands I felt him tenderly untuck the end from its nook and draw the fluffy material away from my skin. I shifted, leaning to the side as I reached beneath me and took hold of his towel, pulling gently until I could slide it off his waist and let it drape down beneath his thighs. I retook my seat, feeling beneath my heated centre the slow burgeoning of his shaft. I sighed as once again I stared into his eyes. His hands sunk lower, taking hold of my young firm breasts, weighing them in his palms as his thumbs quietly worshiped my nipples. My own hands slid down his neck, over his hard chest, stroking lightly along his stomach until I could sink a hand into his lap and gently caress his thickening member. I squeezed my thighs, raising myself up a little as I lifted the head of his shaft and lightly rubbed it along the length of my sex. He was only half ready, but he was firm enough that, as I let myself sink down into his lap for the final time, his hardening pole slipped past the tightness of my opening and buried itself deep inside my yearning body. Mr P's eyes fluttered closed and his head fell back a little as he stifled a soft gasp. His hands trailed down my stomach to rest upon my hips once more as his fingers held me against him. I watched his face, chewing on my bottom lip as I did, until his breathing righted itself and he opened his eyes again. He raised his head, staring into my face as I smiled soothingly at him and touched his cheek with my fingertips. He turned his face and kissed the palm of my hand as his fingers tightened and he pulled me down harder into his lap, sinking the last few millimetres of his shaft deeper. It was an altogether different experience to feel Mr P growing to fullness inside me, to feel him filling me with his maleness one throb at a time. I leant forward to kiss him again, as aided by his hands I began to grind my hips down against his lap. My tongue worked gently inside his mouth, dancing against his own, in a sultry one on one waltz of tenderness. In truth not much movement happened between our pelvises -- just the slow, deliberate grinding of our hips against one another. But it was enough and soon I felt the ache inside me mounting until it had risen as high as it would go, before it needs must come crashing down. I leant back, breaking the kiss, staring into his eyes again and resting my hands over his heart. My quiet eruption was imminent and all the emotions that still swelled within my body culminated into this final moment of release and I couldn't fight the words that now spilled over my lips. "Please Mr P..." I whispered, as fear and heartache, longing and need shadowed my words, "... please ... love me." I felt the wave crest and break, my whole body shuddering to a gut-wrenching, emotional release as I stared into his eyes with my heart on offer. Mr P's eyes widened in shock, I think, at first before quickly filling with something else. Something that was warm and real, something lasting, as his eyes filled with his own hot tears and I felt his fingers bite down on my naked hips. "Oh God... Erika... Ye-hess!" He whispered, his voice breaking over the words as those tears trembled on the edge of his lashes. I felt his stomach tense and shudder beneath me as he let himself go, filling me with his warm, male life-giving substance... filling me with his love. As the shudders rippled across his tightened stomach, Mr P wrapped his arms around my back, his left arm sliding about my waist, his right hand coming to grasp my right shoulder, pulling my body tight against his own, as he once again tucked his face into the crook of my neck. His breaths were heavy and shudders still rocked his frame as I wrapped my own arms about his neck, bringing my right hand up to rest against the back of his head. I felt the warm, wet trickle of salty tears slide over my collarbone and trickle down between my breasts. I squeezed him tighter as I turned my head and whispered in his ear like a possessive child, "Mine!" before I pressed my lips against his warm neck and breathed deeply, inhaling his scent, trying to draw in every ounce of him that I could. Mr P's arms tightened around me even more as I felt his lips beneath my ear and his barely audible, whispered response, "Yes." My Best Friends Father Ch. 08 We stayed in that tight embrace for a long time, neither one of us wanting to relinquish the other. I felt Mr P soften and slip from me, a warm gush of fluid following his slow retreat, but even that didn't break the embrace. I think we may have even dozed for a while in each other's arms as we sat on that kitchen chair. I didn't realise just how long we'd been in that same position, until I raised my head and saw that the kitchen was darkening. Shaking myself all over, like a dreamer resurfacing from some deep sleep, I stroked the back of Mr P's head and kissed his cheek. His arms were still securely wrapped about my body, his fingers locked into position against my skin. It felt entirely too wonderful and I didn't want to break the contact, but we just couldn't stay here all night. I drew back, stroking his face, his neck, as I planted light kisses against his brow. Sighing faintly, Mr P came to, turning his face towards my questing lips, as his lips met mine in a warm, soft kiss. "Come on," I said gently, as I shifted sideways and removed myself from his lap, being sure to retain my grasp on his hands as I drew him up and out of the chair. The towels forgotten, I led him down the hall and into his bedroom. Guiding him over to his bed, I gently pushed him back onto it, laying him on his back and making sure he was comfortable. I sat beside him, looking at his face, touching it with my fingers as I stroked a lock of his hair back from his brow. I smiled gently at him before leaning down to brush a light kiss against his lips. I stood up and made to leave, but his hand shot out and stopped me. "Where are you going?" There was a quiet desperation in his voice, a fear of being left, so faint, so well hidden that you might not even have noticed it if you didn't know any better, but I did and it made my heart ache again for him. I turned back and squeezed his hand, smiling in reassurance. "I'll be right back," I told him softly. "I promise." And in those two words I infused all the truth I could possibly muster for his sake. He let my hand go, although his eyes were still clouded with a hint of doubt. It broke my heart to see; that he had such trouble trusting in a promise, that I silently cursed his ex wife for all the pain she'd caused him. "I promise, Sir," I whispered again for him. I walked away from him slowly, but once out in the hall, I quickened my step and made my way back to the kitchen. He'd been right earlier. The body cannot subsist on lust alone. And the pangs of hunger that were cramping my stomach were not to be denied. If I was feeling this way, then how must Mr P be feeling? Although I must admit to myself that I didn't believe I could have much of an appetite after everything that had happened this afternoon. Rummaging around in the kitchen, I threw together a couple of quick sandwiches, some fruit and cheese and two glasses of milk. Loading it all onto a tray, I made my way back into the bedroom and back to Mr P. He'd been lying on the bed with an arm thrown over his eyes, looking for all the world like a man trying to settle issues with his inner demons. As soon as he heard me coming though, he quickly threw off the arm and sat up in the bed. I smiled as I waved the tray at him. "Hungry?" His smile was like sunshine breaking through the clouds and I felt a warm glow centre itself inside my chest. What I wouldn't give to see him smile like that every minute of every day. I walked over and placed the tray on his bedside table. Handing him a glass of milk, I took the other glass and set it beside the lamp, before retrieving the tray and plonking it lightly on Mr P's lap. Being careful not to jostle, I crawled over his legs and tucked myself up against his side as Mr P held the tray steady. Snuggling against his side, I reached over and grabbed a piece of apple. Raising it to my lips, I bit it in half, a small dribble of juice leaking out to coat my bottom lip. I flicked my tongue out slowly to swipe up the errant dot, looking up at Mr P. His eyes were glued to my tongue and mouth and as I gave him a half smile, his eyes shot up to stare into mine. My eyes gleamed with sinfully wicked thoughts as I dropped them to stare at his mouth. Raising my hand, I brought the piece of fruit up and gently smoothed it over his lips. Tracing it all around his fine, hard looking lips, his bottom jaw dropped a little, parting them, as I slid the fruit slowly back and forth between them, teasing him. Pressing the apple against his lips, he opened his mouth more, allowing me to slip the sustenance inside. I popped it in slowly, savouring the feeling and sight of it as it disappeared, savouring the feeling of seeing my small digit slip between his lips and into his mouth as well. His tongue moved against my finger, licking at its tip lightly before drawing it fully inside his mouth and sucking on it. My eyelids fluttered as I raised my eyes to his, looking deep into his brown eyes; I smiled as I raised myself up and brought my lips to within millimetres of his. I flicked my tongue out and licked up the juice glistening on his lips. Mr P's light moan made me moan in turn as his tongue slid along my bottom lip. Reluctantly pulling away, Mr P gave me a serious look. "If you keep that up you won't be eating much except me!" He said then chuckled, giving me a wink. I blushed and giggled. "Mmm, well that would be a meal in itself." I said, licking my lips again. Mr P's pained groan set my heart racing. "Erika! Behave!" He growled softly, which sent a shiver up my spine. I really couldn't get enough of this man. It seemed I constantly craved him, like an addict craved her crutch, dependent and aching for him every second I took a breath. "Sorry Sir, I just can't help myself." I told him, trying to sound contrite but failing miserably. "Oh I think you can, Honey, but you choose not to." He said with a sly smile. "Not that I'm complaining. But at least give a man a chance to get some food down. You don't want me passing out from hunger right at a crucial moment, now do you?" "No, I guess not!" I replied with a big smile. "That'd definitely be a bit disappointing." "And I so hate to disappoint you; Erika." "I doubt whether you ever could, Mr P." I said with a small smile, though the look in my eyes was serious and the tone of my voice implied more that I was saying. I was surprised to see Mr P's skin flush slightly in embarrassment. "I'll certainly try not to, Erika." He said and I could hear the promise in his voice. His words sent a small thrill through my body as I stared up into his eyes once more. "Me too," I responded, knowing that he would understand. And he did as he smiled and leaned over to lightly brush a soft kiss across my parted lips. As he drew back he smiled at me again. "Now eat," he ordered, taking on that persona of command so easily it sent another shiver through me. "You need to keep up your strength. I'm nowhere near finished with you yet!" "Yes Sir." I responded automatically as I reached for my sandwich. The next half hour passed in relative silence as we devoured the food set down on the tray. Not a scrap was left once we'd finished and I heard Mr P sigh in contentment as he placed the empty tray and glasses on the bedside drawer. He sat back against the headboard and stretched, yawning wide as he rubbed a hand over his full stomach. "Mmmmm," he groaned in satisfaction. "Erika, that was just what the doctor ordered! Thank you." "You're welcome, Mr P." I replied. Mr P draped an arm over my shoulder, tucking me in against his side as he scooted down the bed, until he was stretched out and comfortable. I lay with my head on his shoulder and I quickly hooked a knee over his thigh. Sighing, I relaxed against him as I felt him clasp my free hand as he brought it up to rest on his chest. I could feel the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath my fingertips and I closed my eyes and smiled in contentment too. Mr P's fingers stroked lightly back and forth on my hand, and his breathing echoed in my ear, slow and languid. I sighed. The emotionally wrought afternoon, the food and his close proximity all combined to make me one very tired girl. I yawned, snuggling closer to get comfortable. I felt his arm tighten around my shoulders and heard his big exhale of breath. He was just as tired as I was. I felt my body relaxing, sinking down until I was just on the edge of sleep. I sleepily tried to snuggle even closer to his body, which was humanly impossible, but I still tried nonetheless. Shifting my hand from his chest to hug around his waist, I pulled myself tighter against him as I softly sighed, "Mine." Just before I dropped off into slumber land I felt him shift his head and bring his lips to press against my brow, and I heard his low words. "Mmm, mine too." He said softly before I finally succumbed to the need for sleep. ~ I awakened to the sound of shrill ringing. I groggily tried to rub the sleep from my eyes but I just couldn't bring myself up and out of the land of nod that fast. I heard Mr P groan beside me, his warm body still pressed against mine, his arm thrown over my waist. We'd spent the entire night, tangled together in some way or form, always touching if not cuddling, awakening a couple of times during the night to make slow, languorous love. But now, Mr P had to remove his arm from me and roll over. I heard his hand as it searched out the culprit of that incessant ringing. I realised it was his mobile phone when he flopped back against his pillow, flipped it open and brought it to his ear. "Mmm, Hello?" Mr P answered groggily. I couldn't make out what was being said on the other end of the phone call, so all I got was Mr P's half-a-conversation. "Hmm what?" ... "No." ... "What?" ... "Crap, what time is it?" ... "Shit!" ... By this stage I was fairly certain it was one of his workers ringing up to find out where he was and if he was on his way to work already. I peeked at the window. The heavy curtains were pulled tight, but just around the bottoms I could make out the soft glow of morning light seeping in underneath. I pouted, knowing that Mr P would head off to work and I would be left alone at the house. I sighed silently to myself. There wasn't anything I could really do about it, so I resigned myself to spending the day alone. I rolled over to look at Mr P as he spoke on the phone. Letting my eyes wander down his body, I espied a rather large lump that was slightly tenting the bed covers. I smiled mischievously to myself as Mr P spoke on the phone. Without so much as a warning, I ducked under the covers and threw myself onto his stomach. I heard his stifled grunt and giggled. As fast as I could, I kissed my way down his tummy and along his hips, using my tongue to trail a wet line along his inner thigh as I squirmed in between his legs. I heard Mr P's muffled words as I took my first lick at his balls. He must have told whoever was on the line to hold on for a second, because the next thing I knew the covers were being lifted up and a cool waft of air rushed over my neck and shoulders, making me shiver in response. But it was already too late. I had my lips firmly wrapped around his scrotum and my mouth full of his balls. I sucked gently and was rewarded with a heavy moan. "Erika!" Mr P half growled, half groaned. "Mmm?" I replied, still gently sucking on his testicles as I looked up into his eyes. "Oh Fuck!" I heard him nearly gasp as the vibrations tingled against his heavy sac. The look on his face changed from one of chastisement to one of calculating glee. He grinned wickedly at me then a decision being made. "Mmm, yeah! Put my cock in your mouth, my little slut, and make a lot of noise!" He ordered me as I felt his free hand slide into my hair to grasp a handful and direct my mouth to where he wanted it most. I gripped him around the base of his now rock-hard cock and lifted it a little to allow my mouth to slide on it with ease. He let my hair go just long enough to throw off the covers and expose my top half as I lay between his legs, my boobs squashed up against his thighs and balls as my mouth went to work bobbing up and down on his fat cock. I moaned deep in my throat, sucking and slurping for all I was worth. Mr P groaned in appreciation and I felt his hips rocking up to meet my mouth as his hand slid back into my hair again. As I continued to give him oral pleasure I heard him restart his conversation with whoever was on the other end of the phone. To begin with you would never have thought there was anything different going on, his voice was amazingly controlled. He still sounded just a little bit sleepy. "Hmm yeah, sorry, just had to take care of something," he told whoever it was. "Yeah, mate got it sorted." I slurped louder, wanting whoever it was on the phone to hear. I moaned harder, pushing my face down faster and deeper in an effort to raise a moan or groan or even a small gasp from Mr P that might give him away. But Mr P's control was just too good. It seemed he didn't even break a sweat. "So what have we got on today?" Mr P asked. And after a long pause he smiled broadly as he stared down at me. My eyes were glued to his as I worked his cock in long, sloppy strokes with my mouth, teasing him with my tongue, sucking the head hard and taking it deep into the back of my throat. "You know what? Fuck it..." Mr P said into the phone. "Can you hear this?" He asked as without warning he held the phone close to the side of my mouth as I slurped and sucked on his cock. He thrust his hips up deep into my mouth, making me gag a little on his hard shaft. I made that little "hhirk" sound that he loves so much and heard him groan. "Oh fuck yeah... suck it Honey." This in turn made me moan even more; knowing that someone was hearing me give head to Mr P. He moved the phone back to his ear. He chuckled. "Yeah, I have a hot little cocksucker busy doing what she does best." He stared down at me again, and I could see the pride in his eyes as he smiled at me. "So you know what? I think you guys can handle what we've got today on your own. I'm not coming down to the site." Something was said on the other end, to which Mr P replied, "Oh I plan to, don't you worry about that. Just get the job done and I'll see you tomorrow." With that he hung up his mobile phone and threw it on the mattress beside him. His hand tightened in my hair as he looked at me again. He thrust his hips harder against my face a couple of times as he growled. "Mmm, fuck, Honey, your mouth feels so good! Get your ass up here!" As I reluctantly relinquished my mouthful, Mr P pulled me by the hair, raising my body along his until we were face to face. He wrapped his other arm around my waist and pulled me down hard against his body, my pelvis mashing against his, my throbbing little clit pressed hard against the underside of his cock. "That was naughty." He admonished me, and I felt one hand leave my body only to return in a stinging little slap to my ass cheek. I gasped a little before moaning as I looked at Mr P with glazed eyes. "But then you knew that, didn't you?" It was a rhetorical question so I didn't answer him, though I pouted my best and tried to give him the big puppy eyes. He chuckled. "Oh and don't think being cute is gonna save your ass, baby. You were naughty, and naughty girls get punished!" Without warning Mr P rolled, flipping me onto my back in an instant as he pressed his body on top of mine. His hand was still wrapped securely in my hair as he gazed down on my face. He stared at me, taking in every nuance of my features until I was nearly squirming in self-consciousness. He smiled then, knowing I was a little uncomfortable under his scrutiny, before dropping his head to mash his lips against my own. His mouth was hot, his tongue probing, his teeth clashing against mine again and again, as his kiss once again took my breath away. But though the kiss was scorching and fierce, beneath it I could feel an underlying softness, a tenderness that I would come to know and love even more. I responded in kind, meeting his fierceness with my own, pouring all my emotion into that hot, luscious kiss, and trying to impart just how much I had fallen for him. I groaned as his tongue filled my mouth, plundering its depths and taking from me whatever it was he wanted. I clung to him, trying with all my might to draw him even closer to my body though it was physically impossible. Mr P drew back, his breath rasping in his throat a little as he stared into my eyes once again. He licked his lips and I felt his hand tighten in my hair unexpectedly fast as he pulled my head back against the pillow. I gasped, my eyes clamping shut in natural reaction, as my neck and shoulders arched off the mattress. Mr P trailed light kisses along my jaw to my ear as I remained arched beneath his body. "Mmm," he whispered in my ear, "are you my good little slut, Erika?" I could only respond one way to that question. "Yes Mr P." I gasped in a raspy whisper. "Are you sure about that?" "Oh God yes!" I answered again, this time with more conviction... and sexual longing. Oh, the things this man could do to me with just his voice. His hand in my hair, the small amount of pain that arced through my young form, his lips, his skin pressed so warmly against mine had my pussy pulsating and wanting. My clit ached with a vengeance, hot and throbbing as I tried to grind myself against him. I ached all over for him. I wanted him so desperately inside me I was right on the verge of begging him to take me. But his voice, that soft, velvety, husky voice of his, stalled me. "Are you ab-so-lutely sure about that, Erika?" He asked again, his hand tightening even more in my hair, which made me gasp and screw my face up in pain. "Yes..." I panted. "Oh yes, Mr P, yes Sir!" I answered again. "Mmm, that's what I like to hear." He whispered in my ear as his hand relented a little. "You know though, Erika, that good little sluts always do as they're told, don't you?" My eyes still screwed shut. I raked my teeth across my bottom lip and then licked them to moisten the dry skin before speaking. My voice was barely above a whisper. "Yes Sir." "Are you going to do as you're told?" "Yes Sir." I could feel the smile cross his face even though I had my eyes closed. That cocky, self-assured, lopsided grin of his would be firmly in place, I knew, but I didn't care. As long as Mr P fucked me soon I would do anything and everything he told me to do, and then some. "Good," he said. "Now don't move! And if you cum before I say you can cum, I'm going to spank your ass until its bright red! Understand?" I nodded as I felt his hand release my hair. "Yes Sir." I stayed still, my eyes closed tight as my breathing quickened a little. I wondered what Mr P was going to do. I whimpered in protest as I felt Mr P draw away from me, his warm body rising off of mine and leaving me to shiver in the still early morning chill. I wondered what it was that Mr P was going to do to me... I didn't have long to wait. I felt his hands on the inside of my knees as he roughly pushed my legs apart, spreading them wide as he settled between them. His fingertips trailed a path from my abdomen, down along my hip and onto my inner thigh. He teased me mercilessly as he gently caressed the crease where thigh becomes pussy lip. Back and forth, back and forth, his touch like a feather, tickling and constant. I fought my body's natural reaction to start thrusting my hips against his hand. He'd told me not to move and I wasn't going to. I felt his warm breath blow gently over the small patch of pubic hair that remained on my mound, and I shivered as my nipples screwed themselves tight on my chest. I whimpered in need, still right on the cusp of begging him. My Best Friends Father Ch. 08 Lightly a single finger grazed along my slit, making my pussy spasm and clench in aching need. It was too much for me to bear in silence any longer and I opened my mouth. "Oh please, Sir!" Mr P chuckled evilly. "Just remember, you don't cum until I tell you to!" "Yes Sir." I replied in desperation before gasping in absolute bliss as I felt Mr P's hot tongue slide along the length of my slit. The malleable muscle of his tongue felt like fire against my pussy lips and I groaned aloud in pleasure as he sank it deep inside my opening. True to my word I didn't move, but with each and every lick or thrust of his tongue I felt myself slipping closer and closer to an orgasm. I tried to concentrate on something mundane, my mind flitting from math, to football, to golf even, in an effort to distract myself from what Mr P was doing to me down there. It was pointless though, because every little movement, every tiny suck of his mouth sent pleasure bolting off through my body and brought me that much nearer to heaven. I was fighting a losing battle, I knew, and there was no way I was going to be able to hold off from cumming before Mr P said I could. It wasn't that I wasn't strong enough to do it, but more the fact that I knew Mr P would never tell me to cum anytime soon because he was looking forward to spanking my ass. I nearly chuckled when I thought to myself it was a lose-lose situation for me really... or win-win depending how you looked at it. I'd cum, pleasure shooting off through my body sending me to heaven. Then Mr P would spank me, which would turn him and me on even more, then he'd fuck me and I'd get to cum again! So in the end, though I continued to fight off the orgasm, it was inevitable that I give in to Mr P. When he slipped a finger deep inside my tight little pussy and began rubbing at my g-spot, I gasped and bemoaned, "Oh gawd! No fair!" As my hips jerked and twitched all on their own. Mr P's mouth moved away from my sopping wet hole just long enough to chuckle at me before diving right back in to work. I moaned hard as my thighs began to quiver in an effort to remain away from the edge of annihilation, but I was sinking fast and there was no way for me to stop it. Mr P shifted slightly between my legs, bringing an arm up and over my hip. Pinning me to the mattress, he thrust his finger in deeper, jamming his knuckles up against my pubic bone and holding them there. It felt strange and wonderful all at the same time. I'd never felt anything like it before in my life. The constant pressure of his knuckles against my opening and his one penetrating finger made me squirm something fierce. His tongue swished back and forth, over and over again, making me whimper and moan as I fought off the inevitable. I had managed to hold off for ten minutes but that familiar pressure was building in the pit of my stomach, that ache that said I was a lost cause! I could have held out for possibly another five minutes... I really could have... if Mr P hadn't started moaning as he ate my pussy. His low groans and soft whispers of "God you taste so fucking good!" did me in and without conscious effort I felt my whole body spasm hard. My spine snapped tight, arching my back up high off the bed, my legs clamped tight around Mr P's shoulder and chest, and my throat muscles constricted so rigidly that I could just barely let out a little squeak as a wave of pleasure broke over my body and sent me spiralling higher and higher. I think my heart stopped... I know my breathing did... it was so big an orgasm. I could feel the blood pulsing in big, long throbs through my body. Thud, Thud, Thud! The ache fulfilled, satiated. And through it all Mr P kept licking and thrusting his finger deeper inside of me, pushing my orgasm further and further along on its course. I was near delirious with pleasure, not a single thought flashing through my brain as sensation and colours took over. Just when I thought it was too much, when I thought I couldn't take anymore, that my poor body would shut down of its own accord if he didn't stop, I felt Mr P shift. Suddenly his tongue was gone and he yanked his fingers out of my tight cunt so fast I wasn't sure if he'd left one behind or not! I could feel my juices leaking from my opening as my whole body quaked in stunning, mind-shattering release. But I didn't have long to dwell in my indelible state of utopia. "I didn't say you could cum yet, Honey." Mr P said softly as I felt a shiver skim lightly over my skin. I was unceremoniously hefted onto my tummy, my face was buried into the pillow and my hips yanked, not entirely ungently, into a raised position. I gulped, swallowing my gasp, as I knew what was coming. I could feel Mr P shifting his weight behind me as he moved into position. I cried out as the first slap stung against my flesh, the sting as sharp as a needle. I could almost hear his teeth clenching in a smile as he drew back his arm for another whack. The other cheek copped it this time, making my whole body jump and spasm, though I did nothing to shift away from the spanking. Pain arced its way along my spine, which set my nipples to tingling. Again his hand fell, one to the left cheek, then one to the right, and each time I cried out though I never moved an inch. I took the spanking, feeling the pain as a catalyst for my building arousal; making my pussy wetter and wetter with every passing second. I got five strikes to each cheek, when I heard the growl that issued forth from Mr P's throat, loud and animalistic, needy, wanting. I felt the soft and rough texture of his tongue swipe across my burning flesh, first one side then the other, as his teeth nipped at my bottom for good measure as well. I was panting by this stage, my body aching for more, if not spanking then fucking. I was so hot, so turned on that I couldn't stop the plea that left my mouth as his tongue drove me insane. "Oh God, please Sir!" I cried out, begging. No other words were needed. His weight shifted again, and before I knew it he had both hands on my hips, his grip firm, his fingers digging into the fleshy section of my upper thighs. A visceral groan ripped from my chest as he buried himself deep inside me, his length and girth splitting me nearly in two. My hands clawed the sheets so hard I'm surprised I didn't tear holes in the cloth, as my head flew up and my face clenched tight in recognition of the pain and the pleasure Mr P elicited inside of me. He pulled back his full length before driving himself back inside of me, his strokes hard and long and fierce. I bit my lip in an effort to stem the sounds issuing from my throat, not wanting to scare the neighbours into thinking someone was being killed in Mr P's bedroom... not wanting the neighbours to misconstrue me getting the fucking of my lifetime with something that didn't sound like it felt good. And believe me it felt so GOOD! Still my cries, even with my lips clamped firmly between my teeth, filled the room raucously, almost echoing off the walls in a never-ending roundelay of pleasure. Mr P's right hand shifted and came down on my left cheek in a light but stinging slap. I jerked in surprise and gasped as my pain and pleasure threshold slipped up another notch. My eyes rolled up in their sockets as I bit down harder on my lip as I fought to keep the noise down to a low scream. His right hand grabbed at my hip once more as he yanked my throbbing, dripping pussy back onto his big cock. His left hand this time, stinging down onto my right cheek, and again I jerked and gasped as I tried my hardest to remain below a hundred decibels. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I heard Mr P's grunts and growls of pleasure, though vaguely, as I was lost in my own world of ecstasy. Both his hands clamped back down on my hips as once more Mr P thrust himself repeatedly and deeply inside of me, faster and faster, harder and harder, splitting me apart, filling me up with his hard cock with such abandon that I was a blubbering mess. My groans of pleasure were coming so thick and fast I was near on drooling onto the bed and I could feel that telltale tingle that told me I was once again close to exploding like a time bomb. What happened next surprised me, though not enough to stave off the huge orgasm that was heading my way. If anything, it only served to push me towards it that much quicker. I felt Mr P's right hand slide roughly down the back of my thigh and his fingers locked themselves around the back of my knee. My eyes flew open and I made a funny little "woo-oop" sound as Mr P yanked my knee out and up off the bed, which threw me a little off balance. My arms shifted accordingly until I found my equilibrium again. My hips twisted a fraction as my knee kept getting higher and higher, Mr P drawing it up and up until I was stretched to capacity and he could drape my knee over his right shoulder! "Oh fuck yeah!" Mr P groaned as he held onto the top of my thigh and my left hip, watching all the while as his fat, throbbing cock pounded into me over and over again. "You are such a hot little slut, Honey. Such a good little slut, taking it just like a porn star!" Mr P told me hotly as his thrusts got harder... if that were possible. The change in angle did nothing to deter me from orgasm, if anything it put a different pressure on the inside wall of my clasping cunt, even as Mr P's hip banged hard against my aching clit. Juices were running down my left leg, I could hear the squelching of my sopping pussy with every inward thrust of Mr P's hard rod and I couldn't stop the moan's of "Uoh... Uoh... Uoh" every time his cock filled me to the brim. I groaned hard, my body beginning to spasm, the first vestiges of orgasm making themselves known as my nerve endings began to fire. My knee, the one hoisted over Mr P's shoulder, clenched hard, wrapping itself almost all the way around the back of his neck as my whole frame convulsed and I let out a squeal of undeniable pleasure! "Oh fuck yeah, that's it Honey, cum for me. Be a good little slut and cum on my cock. Milk it, that's it, fucking take it!" Mr P growled harshly as I felt his hips begin to buck and grind in a staccato of movement. "That's my slut, that's it, fucking take it, take it, take it!" His voice was guttural, low, filled with urgency as he neared his own release. "Fuck, I'm going to cum. I'm going to fill your tight little cunt full of my hot spunk, Slut, take it, fucking take it all!" "Yes! Yes!" I screamed in encouragement. "Fuck my cunt Sir, please! Cum inside me, fill my pussy, I want it, I want you too so badly!" I didn't know what I was saying, I didn't care, words spilled out of my mouth in the heat of the moment, one falling out after the other. All I knew was that I wanted him to find his ultimate pleasure inside my body and I would say anything for that to happen. I begged him like a two bit whore; I used my leg around his neck as leverage as I thumped myself against his thrusting hips as hard as I could. And all the while I mouthed off obscenities and deep-seated yearnings of filth to bring him to the brink of eternity! His fingers clamped down hard on my skin, bruising my already tender flesh, which made me cry out and my body convulse in yet another earth-shattering orgasm, making my nipples tighten up so much I thought they might pop right off my chest. His grunts were growing louder, wilder, more animalistic by the second and I knew he was there, right there, just one second away from dying that small death of pleasure. And at that moment I wanted to share it with him as intimately as I could. My eyes flew open and I stared into his fathomless, deep brown eyes, and uttered the only two words I could think of just then. "Please Sir." It was the final straw I think, it all became too much for him to bear as his hips thumped into me one last time. My body still convulsing with my own pleasure, I watched the corded muscles of his neck tighten to near breaking point as his whole body went rigid. I wanted nothing more than to roll my eyes up into the top of my skull and ride out this violent culmination of pleasure in near comatose abandon. But I didn't. I forced my eyes to remain open; to remain staring into Mr P's. I shared his stare until he'd emptied every last bit of his hot seed deep inside of my aching, clasping tunnel. Finally, once the tension eventually drained away from his body, I felt his grip slacken a little on my body and with that lessening of pressure I found my body was unable to remain upright. All bodily control suddenly ceased and I felt my limbs beginning to tremble with fatigue and stress. My arms gave out first as they collapsed beneath me, my torso thudding down onto the mattress, which yanked my right leg off Mr P's shoulder with such force that it nearly tumbled him over on top of me. He caught himself on his strong arms, safely protecting my useless body from being crushed under his full weight. I lay in a sweaty, sticky and soggy heap, my eyes just barely open, my mind just barely holding onto consciousness. I could just make out Mr P's soft smile as his face drew closer to mine, and I tried to smile back at him. I wanted to say something profound, something scary, something that I shouldn't even be considering as plausible or real given the space of time we'd known each other. I wanted to say it, but my ever-increasing slide into oblivion made it impossible. I couldn't even move my finger, let alone my jaw. But I think he knew, well I hoped he knew, that no matter what, I was now his forever. His lips brushed lightly against my ear as I heard his soft chuckle. "Mmm, Erika, you are something else!" He said as he lay down beside me, tucking himself against my back. His arm snaked over my waist, drawing me even closer to his hot body. I sighed, a big breath escaping my chest as I let myself go quietly into the darkness. But before I drifted away into dream world I heard Mr P's almost inaudible whisper... "All mine." As he too sighed and drifted off into sleep. My Best Friends Father Ch. 09 ***Authors Note: Thank you to Alan, your help is greatly appreciated!*** The nap wasn't to last very long. Perhaps a half hour had passed when Mr P shook me awake. "Come on sleepy head, time to get up." He said much too jovially. "I thought men were supposed to be the ones to cum and instantly fall asleep." He chuckled. I groaned and tried to snuggle deeper into the pillow. I heard him laugh again. "None of that now. Up and at 'em, the day's a wasting!" He continued as he lightly smacked me on the bottom. "No rest for the wicked and any other home grown adage you'd care to throw in there." I could hear that insufferable smirk in his voice and just knew I wasn't going to be able to laze away the day any longer. Mr P obviously had something in mind. I grumbled but sat up, yawning and stretching the sleep from my body. I grimaced as I heard a number of joints pop and slowly my brain registered the many aches and pains of my poor mistreated... but satiated... body. It felt good, God; I felt good! Even though I hurt all over, it was the kind of ache you got after an honest day's work... or in my case, days, then nights, then mornings work. Mr P slipped out of bed and I was tempted to flop back down onto the pillow but I wasn't quick enough as he walked around my side of the bed and threw the covers off me. "Not a chance Honey." He said with a little chuckle. "It's time to get up. It's already after nine." I pouted. "But that's still early! I'm on holidays, remember?" "Yes, but I don't take days off of work all the time so I'm going to make the most of it. So out of bed now!" His voice had taken on that no nonsense tone of his and I quickly, though still somewhat sullenly, got out of bed. Mr P dragged me into his ensuite and ran another shower for us both, toothbrushes included. He was all brisk and business like and I was disappointed to realise that this wasn't to be a slow luxurious shower like before. No this was to be quick and efficient. Once we were both done, he turned the water off and we got out to get dry. As we headed back into his room, he gave me a gentle nudge towards his door. "Go get some clothes on, I feel like going out for breakfast." I felt my stomach sink with disappointment again. I'd been hoping just to spend the whole day in the house with Mr P, not venturing too far from the bedroom. I sighed with disappointment but did as I was told, heading toward the room I was supposed to be sleeping in to get some clothes. "Skirt and shirt, no bra, no panties," Mr P said from behind me as I reached his doorway, which made my stride falter. I hesitated in the entrance of his room, standing there naked not knowing if I should turn around and acknowledge his instructions or just nod my head and keep going. In the end I thought it best to turn. I still felt awkward and a little uncomfortable at not wearing panties under my skirt and I think that showed as Mr P smirked at my uneasy stance. But I dropped my eyes and nodded. "Yes Sir." I answered in a small voice feeling the blush as it spread across my face. My stomach began doing that butterfly thing as my mind thought up all manner of embarrassing things Mr P could ask me to do while we were out in public and then realised that I would, in all likelihood do them simply because it was Mr P asking them of me. My insides trembled at the prospect and I wondered if I should try to be assertive and just say "No" and really mean it! But the thought didn't last more than three seconds in my head as I accepted the fact that regardless of what I was feeling this instant, when push came to shove I was a lost cause and I would end up doing it. Why was I bothering to expend energy trying to fight the inevitable? All in or all out, I thought to myself, as a small smile touched my lips. This was to be a great turning point in my life and one for the better I hoped. I made my way to the other bedroom and rummaged around in my suitcase. Selecting a flared skirt and tight fitting tank top that would give my bosom at least some modicum of support, I dressed quickly. Turning to the bed, I espied my black lace under-garments at the foot of the bed. Mr P must have thrown them there at some stage when we'd gotten back from dinner. Bending to retrieve them from the floor, the sudden memory of giving Becky the pink and blue pair I'd bought especially for her came flooding back and I felt as if I'd been punched in the stomach. I sank onto the bed holding the garments in my hands clenched against my tummy as I leant over my knees in an effort to get some air back into my lungs. Tears came unbidden to my eyes, trickling over my lashes and falling at my feet. God I'd made such a mess of things! Oh, I knew it took two to tango and I knew that it wasn't entirely my fault, but it sure felt like it. I felt so bad for Mr P and Becky. Never mind me. How was their relationship going to survive this? How on earth was everything going to be okay ever again? I hoped against hope that it would be. I could feel a sob building in my chest but I swallowed it back not wanting to let Mr P see me as a blubbering mess. I needn't have worried. Mr P was already standing in the doorway as I glanced that way to check on his progress. I was hoping to get myself under some semblance of control before he came into the room, but I guess his timing was better than mine, or worse maybe. He just gazed at me with a sad kind of look in his eyes knowing, without having to ask, what had me upset. He walked over and sat beside me, draping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest. "Now no tears! I told you; it'll be okay, we'll sort it out somehow." He reassured me softly. I desperately wanted to believe him, but I just couldn't see how it would be. "How?" I asked dejectedly. "Honestly? I don't really know, but we will. I'm sure of that. We just need to give Becky a little bit of space and then try again." "Do you really believe that Mr P?" I asked sniffing. He gave me a soft smile as he brushed away my tears. "I really do, Erika." I so desperately wanted to believe him, but in my heart I just couldn't see it happening. Oh, I still held hope but even that was only tenuous at best. "I wish I had your faith." I said sadly. Mr P sighed as he squeezed my shoulders again. "Becky will come round, eventually. I've known her a long time remember." He joked trying to ease the tension. I smiled despite myself and then couldn't help the question that followed. "You've known me a long time too, Mr P. Did you ever imagine this would happen between us?" He leant back and raised my chin with his hand, staring into my face. "I never imagined anything like this would happen between you and me, ever." He said seriously. "But I'm very glad it did," he told me as he leant down and brushed a fleeting kiss across my lips. I breathed in deeply and let my eyes close. As much as I agreed with him, I couldn't quite stop the feelings of guilt that sat heavily in my stomach. "Are you sure about that though?" I asked again. Opening my eyes, I stared up into his and saw that 'something' that scared the living shit out of me, but also thrilled me to my core. I would never grow tired of seeing that look in his eyes. I'd offered him my heart and he had taken it. I should have known better than I did, but the guilt made me ignore it and I pushed on. "Are you really sure Mr P? Because if there is even an inkling of a chance that your relationship with Becky will survive this situation if I leave..." I swallowed the huge lump in my throat at what I was going to say next and my voice wavered badly as I finished, "Then I will, I'll leave right now. I don't want you to lose Becky too. That would be too much for me to handle. She's my friend, but she's your daughter, Sir. I can't come between that, I just can't!" Big fat tears rolled down my cheeks. Mr P shook his head, his brow furrowed a little in anger as his fingers dug almost painfully into my shoulders. "Don't ever think that! Not for a second, not ever, do you hear me?" I sniffed pathetically and Mr P's grip loosened somewhat. "Erika, I know you heard the argument I had with Becky yesterday, well most of it anyway. And I stand by what I said. I'm done apologising for being me and for trying to be happy. If my own daughter cannot accept the fact that you are the one that makes me happy, then I didn't raise her as well as I thought I did!" "But..." "No buts! I won't lose you, not now that I've only just found you." Mr P growled. He laid a palm softly against my cheek; his hand nearly as big as my face. He continued more gently, "Promise me Erika; you won't even think about that again! Not after yesterday." I blinked and turned my head into his palm, kissing the warm skin of his hand as yesterday's time spent in the kitchen came back to me and I shivered. I half stood and scooted over, ensconcing myself on his lap. I pulled up my knees and tucked my body in against his as I lay my head on his shoulder. His strong arms came about and held me close. "I promise!" I whispered. "Thank you!" He whispered as he pressed his lips against my brow. "I don't ever want to lose you." His low voice whispered against my skin. It made me shiver and I felt a warm feeling flow outward from my chest, infusing my entire body. I felt all those piercing emotions I had felt for him yesterday resurface and just about crush me with their intensity. His palm was against my cheek once again and he used it to tilt my head upward. I closed my eyes and let him raise my chin as I felt his lips against my temple, then my cheek, then the corner of my mouth; before finally his warm, pliant lips were pressed against mine. So softly he kissed me, his lips burning and sweet, his breath against my mouth filling me with his warmth. I sighed as I returned his soft kiss, my hand coming up to gently hold his face as well. I opened my mouth to him, my tongue slowly flicking out to tentatively touch his lip. He tilted his head and his mouth moved over mine, his tongue gently snaking out to stroke against mine as the kiss deepened. His kiss was pure and hot and full of such a consuming need for love I felt my heart shatter as I clung to him and poured my soul into his body! This man, this wonderful, scary, incredible man, was everything and more than I could ever have imagined I would find. And even though Becky was still a point of contention for me, I was never going to let him go! The kiss eased off and eventually, our mouths parted and I sucked in a shaky breath. It was just as well I was sitting down, because whenever Mr P kissed me like that, my legs turned to water! I looked up at him and I clasped my bottom lip between my teeth, my eyes searching his. There it was again, that look that scared and thrilled me. Now I knew I wasn't imagining things... and I was sure he saw the same thing in my eyes too. My hand was still against his face and I ran my fingers lightly over his lips as I stared at him again. "Mr P, is it too soon to say that I think I'm in love with you?" I whispered. His hand caught mine and he lightly kissed my fingertips before he stared into my eyes. "I don't think so. I already know I've fallen in love with you." He told me. I felt that warm sense of well being infuse my entire body once more and my face flushed with colour as I smiled up at him. "Honey, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," Mr P said gently, though instantly I felt my stomach drop. "Yes?" I queried tentatively. "Considering everything we've been through, everything we've done, I think it's probably about time you started calling me by my first name." He smiled at me then, "Well, when we aren't in the bedroom at least." I swallowed, relief flushing through me. "Oh!" I said dumbly, realising for the first time that I didn't actually know what his first name was. I knew the family name was Petranovich. But I don't think I could recall Becky even once referring to her dad by his first name, and seriously what young girl took especial note of what old people where talking about when it didn't directly involve them? Becky had always said, 'my dad' this and 'my dad' that, but never once mentioned his real name, not to me at least. No doubt I did the same when talking to her of my father. I looked up at him somewhat guiltily. "Um, I don't actually know what your first name is?" I told him abashedly, chewing on my bottom lip again. "Or if I was told in the past, I don't remember it." He quirked an eyebrow at me, "Really?" He asked and then chuckled. I nodded at him. "And besides that I don't know if I could call you anything other than Mr P?" I said. "A habit of a lifetime is hard to break." He chuckled again. "I know. But I am sure you'll try hmm?" "Yes sir. I'll try." I answered. "Good girl." He said as he released my hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "So my first name is Misha... in case you were wondering." Mr P said, adding on the end to be a little ironic. "But most of the guys call me Mick. Don't ask me why because I've no idea." I smiled though and I felt a small blush creep across my cheeks. "Misha." I said, trying out his name on my tongue. It sounded great and I liked the feel of it when I spoke. "Misha." I said again. I felt Mr P give a small shiver and then he was still. "I like the way you say my name." He said softly. I smiled. "I can't promise to always remember to call you that. Mr P is pretty ingrained." "So long as you try, Honey." He told me. "I promise." I said. "Good girl." He replied. "Now we need to get going. Breakfast is calling and I'm starving!" He rose and pulled me with him, setting my feet down on the floor gently. I stood there, promising myself that from now on, I would try not to dwell on the whole screwed up situation. As Mr P had said, he didn't take days off work all that often, so I'd worry about it tomorrow, when I was on my own. He gave me a reassuring smile and wink before leading me by the hand out of the room and down the hall. The hallway branched off in an "L" shape to the front door, with an arched doorway into the lounge room. I came to a stop behind Mr P as we finally took in the destruction we'd caused the other night after dinner. Nothing had been shifted. We'd been too busy in the bedroom to even venture this far in the house before now. The fallen picture lay with a broken frame in front of the main door, bits of plasterboard from the wall peppered the carpet, one of Mr P's shoes and both of my sandals lay in the middle of the hall and the crack in the wall started about a third of the way up from the floor ... about the spot where my ass had been drilled against it ... and ran all the way to the ceiling. The nadir of the crack was a slightly rounded indentation roughly the shape and size of my backside. It looked like a small earthquake had struck this part of the entrance hall and Mr P let out a small amused sigh. "Looks like this isn't going to be the simple patch job I thought it would be. I'm going to have to replace this whole section of wall panel." He walked forward and stood before the crack, his hands on his hips as he appraised the damage. "Ah well, it's just lucky I work for a construction business and can get the work done cheap, hmm?" He chuckled and winked at me again, which made me blush slightly with embarrassment. I knew it was both our fault but for some unknown reason I felt the compulsion to apologise for the scene of destruction we were surveying right now. No wonder Becky had come tearing in thinking that something was wrong. I know I would have thought the same thing. And to be confronted with the scene of your father in bed with your best friend... well, I couldn't even imagine what that would be like to witness. I swallowed the guilty lump in my throat at the thought of my best friend and reminded myself that I wasn't supposed to be dwelling on that today. There would be time enough for that tomorrow. Mr P stooped to recover his lone shoe and tossed it at the shoe rack near the front door, then stood and handed me my sandals. "Your shoes." I smiled weakly and took them from him bending a little to put them on. "We'll clean the rest of this up later." He said as he moved the painting to one side and leant it against the wall. I made to approach him, thinking that we'd be leaving immediately, but to my surprise Mr P quickly advanced on me and wrapped his arms about me, pinning my arms to my sides. He hefted me bodily and carried me into the lounge room. He put me down as I felt the back of the sofa fetch up against my bottom and almost immediately his hand was in my hair, yanking back my head as his lips brutally took mine. His tongue delved deeply into my mouth, sucking the breath from my lungs, making my knees feel weak and unsteady. His teeth nipped and raked across my lips and I moaned into his mouth. I felt my nipples bunch hard beneath the thin material of my shirt as they pressed into his chest and I felt his other hand slide urgently down my side only to slide back up the rear of my thigh under my skirt. I moaned again, making small desperate sounds in my throat as my desire fired once again for this man. My tongue reacted and responded in kind, seeking the hot, moist inside of Mr P's mouth, wanting to taste him, to consume him. My hands gripped handfuls of his shirt on either side of his waist as I felt his hand move up to grip my buttocks, his fingers kneading and stroking at the soft rounded flesh of my ass cheek. I panted as I ground the top of my pubic bone against one of his thighs trying to massage the ache that had arisen in my throbbing clit. I felt his knee as it pressed between my legs and roughly thrust them wider allowing his questing hand beneath my skirt to slide deeper into the hot, wet recess of my legs and all the while his lips never left mine. I gasped against his mouth as I felt his finger brush along my nether lips, light and teasing, back and forth, round and round, until I was panting in urgency and thrusting my hips back against his fingers. I'm sure my nails were tearing the material of his shirt where I gripped it, but my eyes were rolled up in their sockets and I didn't care if they were, all I could think of is feeling Mr P's fingers against my young, hot, and now aching pussy. I cried out in ecstasy, my head jerking back even further, as without warning he impaled me on that finger. I was a blubbering mess as Mr P's mouth travelled across my jaw and down to my shoulder. His finger thrust into my sopping pussy deeper and deeper, over and over again, and like the little hussy I had become with this man, I begged him to keep going with pants and moans and little whispers of "Oh God yes, please Sir!" Another finger joined the first and my hips thrust down urgently against his fingers as I ached to get them deeper inside of me. I could feel his teeth biting at the flesh of my shoulder, big firm chomps that were followed with a swipe of his hot, wet tongue. I nearly wailed in despair as I felt Mr P jerk his fingers out of me, leaving me empty and longing for more. I heard that mean chuckle of his as he lifted his mouth from the crook of my neck. "You're such a wanton little slut, Honey. But I'm not done with you yet." The hand in my hair tightened once more, making me wince a little, as his mouth crushed my lips again. His tongue darted deep and hot inside my mouth, eliciting another throaty moan from me. But too soon he broke it off. I didn't have time to voice my complaint as I was spun around on the spot and shoved bodily over the back of the couch. Bent double, my feet just touching the floor by the tips of my toes; I felt my skirt being yanked up from behind and Becky's father's staying hand on the small of my back. My Best Friends Father Ch. 09 "I told you I wasn't done yet." Mr P said softly and I shivered as I felt his warm breath drift across my nether lips. I was sopping wet, aching, my clit throbbed like it might explode at any moment. I could feel the juices of my pussy coating my inner thighs as they trembled in anticipation of what was to come. Or what I hoped was to come! "Don't move." It was an order I fully intended to keep. Gently, like it was the most delicate thing in the world, I felt Mr P's tongue glide softly against my pussy lips. Up one side and down the other, always careful not to touch my clit fully, just the edge here and there, making me ache all the more, and beg like a two bit harlot for satisfaction. But I didn't move, just as I'd been told. The swipe of his tongue became more aggressive, more insistent... more demanding, each swipe, each lick making me shiver in anticipation before he thrust it deeply into my moist, wanting centre. My breathing was haphazard and laboured, short and sharp, as I felt myself careening towards another orgasm. I groaned out my pleasure loudly, without shame or regret, yearning for him to send me over the edge. His tongue took me by surprise as he shifted position and drew a quick circle around my tight puckered opening. I gasped and my eyes rolled up in my head as his teeth gently grated against the flesh of my ass cheeks. He did that a couple more times, each time eliciting a sharp moan from me, before shifting back to his original job of licking my hot, throbbing cunt. He teased me relentlessly, making me beg even more to be fulfilled. I wanted nothing more than for him to tongue my clit hard and fast and finally let me cum. And I thought my prayers, and begging, had at last been answered when I felt his tongue glide over my clit; one swipe, then another, long and slow, teasing me toward an ultimate climax. My hips began to gyrate of their own free will against his tongue and I couldn't help the small pants of "Oh yes, yes, please, yes," that left my mouth. I was so close, just a couple more tongue massages and I would go crashing off into an orgasm induced stupor yet again. So close, I could feel the pressure building, my insides clenching down in preparation of what was to come, almost there just one more swipe, just one more lick, oh god please yes, just one more! .... But I'd forgotten what Mr P had said and so nearly cried as I felt his tongue removed without ceremony from my throbbing core. It took a moment to register and then almost painfully it hit me. I had moved... I could have cried for forgetting that tiny little detail and a small moan of despair escaped my parted lips as my eyes flew open. Even though I hadn't meant to, I had moved and I realised my mistake even before I heard his sigh. "Ah Erika..." I heard as he rose to his feet. "And I thought you might have managed to stay the distance on this one." His voice almost sounded genuinely disappointed. If it weren't for the smirk I knew would be on his lips, I might have believed that he was. But I knew with a certainty that this was just another of his control vices. God, I ached to the point of insanity, and I wanted so desperately to cum; I thought I would go insane. I remained where I was and felt his hands gently cup the cheeks of my ass low on the underside right above the tops of my thighs. His thumbs pressed alongside and in line with my soaking pussy lips as he slowly kneaded my butt in his hands, his thumbs pulling and then squishing my slick lips open and then closed. "Now we'll just have to see how well behaved you can be today before I finish what I started." I was still gasping a little from my near foray into bliss and so could only give a little, breathless, "Yes Sir" as answer. I couldn't believe it. I was right on the cusp, teetering on the edge of oblivion, aching to be thrown over that cliff, only to be denied, and all due to my own stupid fault. I wanted to cry at my own misfortune. His hands weren't helping; the constant kneading, the parting and bringing together of my nether lips only aided in keeping me on the edge of despair. I was like a coiled spring just waiting for the release trigger to be pulled. God how I hated him right now, but mostly I hated myself for losing concentration so easily. Mr P gave my butt one final squeeze before removing his hands from my body. He flicked my skirt back down to cover my exposed rear end and then patted me lightly on the rump. "Well no use in staying bent over like that Honey. Up you get." He said as he stepped back from me. It took some effort but I pulled myself back up into a standing position. Blood rushed out of my head as I stood, making my world spin a little, and not in a pleasant way. I felt slightly dizzied and grabbed hold of the back of the sofa to steady myself. I took a deep breath and waited for everything in the lounge room to settle back into its rightful place. I felt his supporting hand around my waist, his concern genuine when he asked, "You okay?" I nodded with a weak smile. "Hmm, just a bit of a head spin. I stood up too quickly." My voice was a bit thready and my knees were a little wobbly. I think everything kind of chose that moment to catch up with me. The head injury, the serious lack of food intake, and the emotional stress of the last day or so, not to mention my heart still beat ten to the dozen and I couldn't think past the throbbing between my legs. I could hear my blood pounding in my ears; feel that eternal agony of unfulfilled desire like a knife behind my eyes. I swallowed hard and took a fortifying breath. There was nothing for it; I would just have to persevere and make it through the day as best I could. Oh, and I just knew that Becky's father wasn't going to make it any easier for me either, at least food was in the offing. Mr P crooked an eyebrow at me in concern. "Well let's get going and get some food into you." He gently squeezed me about the waist and added softly. "Eating one another, while very pleasurable, is not very sustaining and I think you'd do well for a good meal." His words brought a smile to my lips. Shakily, I let him lead me out to the car. He held the door for me and helped get me seated. He pulled the seat belt across me, the back of his hand brushing intentionally across both my breasts causing my nipples to pucker tight beneath my t-shirt. I shivered as a pulse of electricity shot down my torso and settled as a sharp, hot point in my clit. The click of the belt snapping home seemed to echo ten times louder than it should have. I took a steadying breath and prayed for some self control. But honestly I didn't hold out too much hope of that happening. My whole body was wound tight and I knew it would only take the tiniest thing to shatter me into a thousand tiny little pieces of release. His hands came down and settled lightly on my knees. I lifted my eyes and stared into his. That glint was there. I swallowed hard in dreaded anticipation as I watched that slow, smug smile spread across his lips. "We can't have you firing off as soon as we get underway now can we?" He said as his hands gently pushed my knees apart. He knew just how close I truly was to cumming and my whole body quivered as I watched his eyes drop. "No; that just won't do." My skirt had slipped into the gap created by my parted thighs, affording me a little modesty but I guess Mr P had other ideas. Mr P's hands slid caressingly up my thighs; raising goose-bumps along every inch of my exposed skin. I couldn't control the small tremors that made my hamstrings twitch as Mr P began to push the hem of my skirt higher and higher. I could already feel the flush of blood that infused my cheeks as Mr P finally found a height that he liked. "Roll your hips up so your hot little pussy isn't pressed against the seat please." He asked politely. I complied and he smoothed the skirt tight across my legs and tucked the excess in, just under my butt. "There, that's much better." He said and I shivered again as I looked into his face. His eyes were settled between my legs and I could just imagine the view he had. My heart skipped when I saw his tongue flick out to lick his lips slowly, like a man craving something delicious to eat. God if only I could have clenched my thighs together with that image in my mind, I know I would have cum hard on the spot with no more stimulation needed. As it was, I couldn't do anything of the sort. All I could do was silently lament my situation, and be tortured by the fact that Mr P would like nothing more than to eat my aching cunt until I came in his mouth. I was so frustrated with myself I could have screamed. Mr P looked up and smiled at me, a normal, friendly smile, not his usual predatory one, before he leant forward and kissed me lightly on the cheek. Rising he stepped back and closed my door for me before making his way around to the driver's side of the car. I took those scant few seconds to try and compose myself a little. As Mr P slid into his seat he smiled at me again, like there was nothing out of the ordinary happening at all. "Okay then, shall we go get some breakfast?" He asked conversationally. It was a rhetorical question, one I was glad I didn't really need to answer. We drove to a nearby pancake house and all the way the vibrations transferring through the seat did nothing to alleviate my predicament. At one stage during the short drive, Mr P reached a hand over to stroke my exposed thigh knowing full well that he was helping to keep me highly aroused. All I could do was chew on my bottom lip and try to think of other things, mundane things, in an effort to gain a little more composure. It didn't really help. Mr P chose a booth in a reasonably secluded part of the diner, which threw me because I half expected him to choose a table that might have been a little more exposed. Still it gave me a sense of calm to be seated out of the way a little bit. Well that was, until he ushered me into my seat. "I want you to sit exactly as you did in the car, Honey." He told me quietly. "Though for now you don't have to have your skirt resting so high on your thighs." That small smirk flashed across his lips for a moment and I gulped; something akin to panic beginning to develop in my stomach. I merely nodded as I knew my voice wasn't up to responding. I seated myself as instructed, never once did it cross my mind to say no to Mr P. It was like that word had ceased to exist in my vocabulary when it came to this man. I was usually such a strong willed woman, hell, I'd broken up with my boyfriend not long before this holiday simply because I'd become bored with him, well bored with his sexual prowess, which is to say, his lack of it. Somehow my brain just could not function properly when Mr P was around and giving orders. It was like my brain was stuck on instant obedience, and strangely that didn't disturb or worry me in the least. Trust is a very weird and powerful thing I guess... The waiter came over and we ordered. Our breakfast arrived and we ate in companionable silence for a while. My heart rate had settled a little but I still felt faint with anticipation of what was to come. Never once did it cross my mind that nothing would happen. Mr P and I engaged in small talk and a simple, though delicious, breakfast. The anticipation was driving me mental. He took moments during our meal to fix me with that knowing stare and then smile at me. It was all I could do to restrain myself from jumping over the table and ravaging the man across from me. But other than that he did nothing to me, didn't even ask anything of me. It made my anxiety intensify as I worried about what he would do to me, or have me do, when the time finally came. Because I knew it was coming. Mr P paid for breakfast when we were done and decided he wanted to go to the nearby mall. He chose to leave the car parked where it was and opted to walk there. It was only a short distance and would help burn off the calories gained at breakfast. There was a light breeze blowing and I was acutely aware of the fact that my skirt kept flicking up at the back. I think my face remained red with embarrassment the entire walk to the mall. I heaved a sigh of relief once we were inside thinking that at least my skirt was safe from blowing up with the wind and exposing me. Then I began to get a sense of dread as I looked about the mall and noted it was a three level structure with glass balustrades. I gulped down a panicked breath as I glanced about all the many hundreds of people floating about the place. I prayed that Mr P wouldn't make me walk around the upper levels. Thankfully Mr P was happy to keep to the lower level. We held hands as we walked about and I was surprised at the amount of looks we got. While most were purely speculative, wondering no doubt if we were lovers, or possibly father and daughter? Some few seemed to glance at us and pass judgement. I tried to ignore them as best I could. Older women stared disapprovingly, while older men stared with somewhat disapproving envy, younger guys seemed to look at Mr P incredulously and young girls glanced at me with a mixture of disbelief and sometimes longing. Mr P, after all, was damn good looking. We spent probably an hour just wandering around, window shopping, looking at this and that, before Mr P dragged me into a lingerie boutique; and not just any boutique, it was one of those with private viewing/changing rooms at the rear. It made me wonder how long he'd been waiting to bring someone here or if he had brought someone here before me? I found myself becoming unreasonably jealous at the thought. He walked about the shop, looking, touching. I trailed along behind him, taking note of what he took a particular interest in, taking note of what he liked. It wasn't long before a shop assistant came over to us. She was dressed sexily, the top three buttons of her white button down blouse open to display her cleavage and the bra she was wearing. A walking advertisement of the establishments merchandise, no doubt. She reeked of Elizabeth Arden, and as much as I had to admit it, she was gorgeous, with her honey blonde hair and pretty blue eyes. I felt like a drab little girl beside her. She looked us both over and smiled. "Can I assist you two with something?" She asked. Although she included the both of us in her statement, I could tell from her body language who she really wanted to assist and it wasn't me. "Yes you can." Mr P replied with a smile. He proceeded to tell her which outfits he'd like me to try on and she went to collect them in my size. We met her again in the changing area. It was set behind a curtained off area, the room in the shape of a squarish horseshoe. I expected it to be dimly lit, intimate and possibly cosy, or at the extreme end, dark and sleazy? I couldn't have been more wrong. The room was bright and clean, almost sterilely so. The waiting chairs were low comfortable affairs, men obviously spent a lot of time in them, and currently there were two guys in there already. A younger guy who was trying to seem uninterested and cool, but you could see he was eager with anticipation. It was obvious his girlfriend was in the cubicle. Then there was Harold, I know this because his wife was giving him a running commentary on her progress. He had his face stuck in a book and responded with the generic, 'Yes Dear' every so often. He oozed non interest. I smiled at that. There was a large notice hanging on the wall right beside the entrance stating that all male patrons were to stay out of the change rooms and any untoward behaviour would not be tolerated, offending parties would be asked to leave and not be allowed to return. Obviously, this boutique was no stranger to sex in the change rooms, and tried to actively discourage it. The sexy assistant smiled at us as she hung the lingerie, stockings included, in a cubicle. "If you require any further assistance, please just call for me, my name is Anita." "Thank you Anita." Mr P replied with a small smile, his tone implying that we'd be fine. She left us to it with a last look in my direction. A look that read: 'Lucky bitch!' I can't say as I blame her, I probably would have given her the same look if our places had been reversed. Luckily for me, they weren't. Once we were 'alone', the other people in the change area notwithstanding, Mr P folded himself into one of the chairs and casually crossed an ankle over his knee. A hand rested lightly on his calf as he leant back and laid his other arm along the back of the nearby seat making himself comfortable. He glanced up at me as I stood before him and nodded his head towards the curtained cubicle. "Go get naked." He told me in his low voice. The change room was eerily silent, like all sound had been sucked from the room at that precise moment. I saw Harold's head flick up; all of a sudden his interest piqued at hearing what Mr P said to me, he turned to stare, his droopy eyes flicking down along my body; I saw him swallow. I swallowed nervously in return as I also noticed the young guy turn his head as well. I practically dashed into the change room and drew the curtains closed. I took a few steadying breaths. This was crazy! Crazy! Why was I doing this? Why was I letting this happen? My heart beat sickeningly as I stood there looking at myself in the mirrors. I was enclosed all round, my image reflected back at me threefold. My face was flushed, my nipples peaked and my breath was fast... but I had the biggest smile you could imagine on my face. It seemed a contradiction in terms because although I felt sick, it was only because I was so excited. Biting my bottom lip, I peeled off my shirt and dropped my skirt. I stood there naked for a moment, looking over my body in the mirrors. I turned slightly and looked over my shoulder. I was surprised to see that my skin was unmarked. Except for maybe a slight pink flush to the skin of my buttocks, I had not a blemish on me. I was amazed because I seriously ached all over and I would have sworn I was bruised black and blue all over as well. But that certainly wasn't the case. I smiled! I guess I really was suited to all of this. "The white one first," Mr P's voice called to me from the other side of the curtain, bringing me back to the present and reminding me what I was supposed to be doing in the cubicle. I turned. I lightly fingered the material of the lingerie, savouring the slinky feel of the satin, before taking it down and hurrying to put it on. The white outfit consisted of a satin and lace garter, with silk stockings that wouldn't stay up unless worn with a garter, and a sheer lace half-cup bra that felt like heaven against my skin but left nothing to the imagination. What it didn't come with was panties and I felt my stomach knot with the knowledge that this was what I'd been dreading all morning. As I looked at myself in the mirror again I could see the bottom half of my tightly trimmed triangle of hair as it pointed down towards the smooth, bare lips of my pussy; a pussy that still glistened wetly with arousal. I gulped. My light brown areola stood out starkly under the sheer material of the bra that just barely covered them and the virginal colour of the outfit contrasted nicely against my tan skin. I had never been in anything quite so luxuriously sexy before in my young life, but the whole thing was overshadowed by the fact that I knew what was coming and already I could feel my heart rate skipping. I knew I couldn't stall any longer so I called out to Mr P. Or at least, I tried too. Nothing other than a nervous squeak came out. I had to clear my throat and try again. "I'm ready Mr P." I called as loudly as I dared, hoping against hope, that he would simply stand up and come to the cubicle to stick his head through the curtains. Even as I hoped it, I knew it was in vain. Then remembering our little conversation before breakfast, I called out again lamely, "I mean, Misha." My Best Friends Father Ch. 09 The silence in the changing area was tangible. I didn't know if the others had left or if they were listening intently to our exchange, and I cringed at my mistake. What would they think now? I wondered. Then realised I didn't truly care. "Show me." His amused voice sounded. I gulped again. I'd known it was coming, but I still felt unprepared for it. I took a deep breath and reached forward. I drew the curtains apart as quietly as I could; hoping I wouldn't attract the attention of the other two guys if they were still there. Again that hope was in vain as I saw the young guys head swing around and stare at me as I came into view, before he flicked his gaze away. Harold, unfortunately for him, was sitting just out of view, unless he wanted to crane his neck, making it obvious that he wanted to see me. "Turn please." Mr P's low voice ordered. I rose up on tip toes, as I hadn't worn heels, and turned about, accentuating the line of my legs and my firm buns. With the initial flutter of nerves out of the way, I felt exhilarated showing off for Mr P. The younger guy kept sneaking peaks at me, trying to resist looking my way as his girlfriend was in the cubicle not four feet away, but not quite succeeding. I saw the top of Harold's head come into view as I turned back to the front. Mr P crooked a finger at me and made me step forward a pace. Harold's droopy eyes came into view and they widened at seeing me standing there. All this I saw out of my peripheral vision as I hadn't broken eye contact with Mr P the entire time I faced him. I doubt whether I would have been able to do it if not for his smouldering gaze. His eyes took in everything and I could see the quick tick of his pulse in the vein of his neck which told me he liked what he saw. "Beautiful." He breathed staring up at me. I think he would have stayed like that all day given the chance, but well time was getting on. He blinked at me and then smiled again. "The blue one next!" I reached up to draw the curtains back together as Mr P spoke again. "Only halfway", was all he said, and I knew exactly what he meant. I drew the curtains and left a gap of about six inches before I stepped back and began changing. I could hear mumbling in the background but ignored it as I got on with what Mr P had asked. I had my back to the curtains as I pulled on the baby blue bra of the lingerie set I was currently putting on, when I heard a 'humph' of affront and a low voiced 'disgraceful!' before hearing quite plainly. "Come on Harold, we're leaving!" I also heard Harold's forlorn, "Yes Dear!" in reply and I actually felt sorry for him. He dragged his feet casting one last longing look in my direction as he left on the heels of his wife. I glanced through the curtain at Mr P and he gave me a wide smile. I smiled back, feeling much more at ease. I glanced up and happened to lock eyes briefly with the young guy sitting behind my gorgeous, older lover. His eyes were practically glued to me and I saw him blush as he quickly looked away when he saw me looking at him, embarrassed at being caught. I blushed as I looked away too. I heard Harold's wife's raised voice again. Obviously she was at the counter complaining to the shop staff. I couldn't precisely make out what it was she was saying, but I could imagine. I definitely heard, 'disgraceful' again and didn't quite manage to stop the giggle that popped out of me. I flicked my eyes sideways again as I pulled on a stocking, and locked gazes with Mr P once more. His eyes danced merrily, just as amused as I was at the Harold's wife's reaction. I blew Mr P a quick kiss as I turned my back to him and made adjustments to the outfit. Again there weren't any panties included with this outfit. "Ah, is everything all right in here?" Anita's voice broke the silence of the room. I glanced back over my shoulder and saw Mr P's head turned towards the entrance. "I'm fine." Mr P told her with a smile. I couldn't see her so I can only guess at what she was doing. "And you sir? Are you okay in here?" I guessed she was addressing the young guy as I saw him nod speechlessly. "Wonderful!" She said sounding genuinely pleased. "Please forgive the interruption." I didn't hear anything more from her so I figured that she'd left. I was done dressing and turned back to the curtains. I didn't even announce it this time, as I stepped forward and simply pulled back the curtains. Mr P's head came around and a broad appreciative smile broke across his face. Anita was still standing there; I could see her out the corner of my eye. I paled a little in surprise but otherwise remained standing there. Mr P made a motion at me with his hand and I turned on the spot, rising on tip toes as I did. I faced forward again, once more eyes only on Mr P. He turned his head. "What do you think?" He asked Anita. I swallowed nervously and held my breath, expecting possibly a less than kind comment. I felt bad at misjudging her when I heard what she said. "I think it looks lovely on her. The cut is beautiful and sits well on her figure." Anita said. There was a timbre to her voice that made me shiver and my nipples pulled tight. "But I think the colour is wrong. Perhaps something a little darker for her skin tone, I think." Mr P looked back at me and smiled. "I think so too." The whole way through this exchange, the young guy was sitting there staring at me, the whole time, Anita and Mr P ignored him. It was like he wasn't even in the room as they both stared at me too. That was about to change though, as I heard curtain rings hiss against the rod and a head popped out of the cubicle directly across from me. Our eyes met for a moment as she took in the situation and then her eyes dropped... to see the back of her boyfriends head. "Trent!" She growled at him crossly. Trent's head snapped around so quickly I'm surprised he didn't give himself whiplash. "Eyes to the front, asshole!" His girlfriend told him angrily. "Baby, I'm sorry I didn't mean too!" He apologised sitting forward on his chair. "Whatever!" She said sounding just as angry, however, as she stepped back into the cubicle, she flicked me a look and smiled before she shut the curtains. I blinked and wondered what on earth that could have meant. I didn't get much time to contemplate it though as Mr P drew my attention back to him. "Anita, could we have that one in a darker blue please?" He asked the shop assistant. "Certainly Sir!" She said as she cast another long look at me before leaving. I watched her go before dropping my eyes back to Mr P. "The last one please," he told me. I reached up to close the curtains. "Leave them." He said. I dropped my arms slowly and swallowed. I took a deep breath and nodded. I turned about and began undressing, changing outfits. As far as I could tell, Trent didn't turn around although I was sure he wanted too. But then, his girlfriend decided to give him something to look at instead of me. I turned my head as I heard curtain rings slide open again and saw Trent's angry girlfriend standing in the centre of her cubicle much like I was. Trent's head flicked up and he fell back against his chair. She turned on the spot for him. "What do you think?" She asked with a sly grin. She looked up at me and gave me a quick wink. She was wearing a red number that was super sexy, and, if they bought it, then Trent would be in for a wild night no doubt. I was surprised that Mr P didn't turn about and look, but when I glanced at him, I saw that look in his eyes that told me I was the only one he wanted to really look at. I felt that warm fuzzy feeling spread across my chest once more. This man really was amazing. I quickly finished getting dressed in full view of Mr P and the girl across the way, who left her curtains half open as she got changed out of her lingerie and redressed. Needless to say, Trent's eyes were well and truly to the front. As I stood making little adjustments to the lingerie so it sat properly, I saw Mr P rise to his feet behind me in the mirror. I swallowed nervously as he neared the cubicle. He made sure to remain outside, but he was near enough I could smell his aftershave. I turned and could also make out the bulge in the front of his jeans. He'd definitely been enjoying the show. He smiled at me and he glanced down along my body. The last set was black and frilly, sheer material like fine mesh and would hardly constitute being called an 'outfit' it was so skimpy. But it was sexy, and the bra was a little half cup peek-a-boo that let my hard nipples poke through unabashedly. The garter was thin and sat high and there was no way to hide the fact that I didn't have panties on, or that I had a practically bald pussy, or the fact that I was extremely aroused. My pussy lips fairly glistened in the bright light of the change rooms. "Stunning!" He whispered as he stood there blocking the view out into the room. I don't know if Trent or his girlfriend were watching, or if they'd left already. To be honest I didn't really care either way. Mr P filled my vision and my peripheral and everything else fell away as unimportant. I heard him take a deep breath, and wondered if he could smell how hot and ready for sex I was? As I looked up into his eyes I could see that he did. He had that look that said he'd like nothing more than to bend me over and shove his hard cock inside my aching cunt. And believe me, I was so ready for it. I would have gladly turned around right there and let him take me. As it was, Mr P had better control than that. I heard his little growl come from the back of his throat as he watched my reaction to his gaze and then reached towards me. I let out a little moan of anticipation, but was sorely disappointed as he smiled at me and quickly plucked the price tag from the bra I was wearing. "Leave them on." He told me quietly as he reached over and grabbed the other lingerie. "Get dressed and meet me at the counter." He turned on his heel and strode away. Trent and his girlfriend in the red were gone. I was left alone; hornier than ever and I felt somewhat vulnerable standing there naked but for a few flimsy pieces of material. I hurriedly threw my clothes back on and got out of there. Mr P was just finishing up paying for the stuff when I got there. I saw the price that had been rung up on the till and nearly freaked. "Mr P... I mean, Misha, you can't. That's way too much!" He fixed me with a stare that rendered me speechless, and all he said was, "Shush." Anita smiled at the exchange and handed over the bag. "I hope you enjoy your purchases and that we see you again soon." Her tone was entirely solicitous and so were her eyes. Mr P assured her that she probably would and we left. I waited until we'd left the mall and were headed back to the car before speaking again. "Mr P, really, that stuff was way too much." I looked up at him as I walked beside him, my arm through his. He smiled. "I know, but I wanted it. So shush." He told me again. I kept quiet then. Maybe I could think of some way to pay him back or at least half of it. Four hundred dollars was a lot of money! We got back to the car in no time and then were headed back to his house. All told, the morning out had been a wonderful excursion and I found myself humming happily to some mundane song on the radio as we drove along. My body had cooled enough that I wasn't on a knife edge any more, although I was sure that if Mr P wanted to he could amp me up again in no time flat. He reached across and tugged gently on a loose lock of hair making me glance over at him. He smiled at me and I smiled back. It was a perfect moment as I felt that warm sensation flutter in my heart once more.