Loading...It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and I was at home doing nothing, and doing it quite well. I was sitting back on the couch, idling watching the TV, and enjoying a quiet beer. That’s when Cathy showed up.
Cathy is a friend of my daughter, Christy. They’ve been best friends for years and are always hanging out together.
I’d watched Cathy grow from a scrawny schoolgirl to a nicely shaped young lady, if you can call a rumbustious termagant a young lady. Like my daughter, she was now past eighteen and in the work force. Oddly enough both girls had managed to find gainful employment. That’s where Christy was now, gainfully employed at her work, earning a few extra dollars in a stocktake.
“Hey, Mister B,” Cathy called as she came barging in. “Where’s Christy? In her room?”
“Ah, no. As a matter of fact she’s at work. She got tapped to do some overtime during the stocktaking.”
“Fuck,” said Cathy, loudly and distinctly.
Now I’ve always made it a point with my daughter to curtail any swearing. I don’t like it, don’t use it, and see no reason why I should tolerate it. I had not precluded Cathy from this when I made my point known and she most certainly knew my views on bad language.
“I beg your pardon?” I said, putting a chill in my voice.
“Oh, sorry,” she said with a giggle. “I was only expressing my disappointment with not finding Christy here. I mean, I only said fuck because I didn’t know what else to say.”
I gave her a hard stare at that. She’d deliberately said it a second time to get a rise out of.
“What?” she asked, sounding surprised. “I only said fuck that time because I was explaining why I said fuck the first time. How else am I supposed to apologise for saying fuck except by telling you what word I’m apologising for.”
She was trying hard not to giggle, but not too hard. She has often enjoyed getting a rise out of me. The mistake she made was in standing too close to me while doing so. Careless of her. She’s usually ready to run in case she goes too far.
My arm snaked out and caught a hold of her, jerking her towards me and having her tumble across my knee. I flicked her dress up and delivered a firm swat to her bottom. An interesting bottom it was, too. There was a nice amount of smooth rounded bottom and not much in the way of panties.
“Oh, fuck, that hurt,” she yelped, giggling. “Oops, I said fuck again, didn’t I.”
“Enough, Cathy,” I said, giving her bottom another, slightly harder, swat.
“Aw, is the little girl upsetting you when she says fuck? Will it help if I promise not to say fuck anymore?”
“Will it help if I pull this excuse for panties and spank you properly?”
“What? You wouldn’t dare!”
“Ah, I believe you said something similar when you landed over my knee a few years back and got soundly spanked,” I observed.
“I was younger then and I damn well know I kept my fucking panties on. Oh, fuck, I didn’t mean to say that.”
I would probably have believed her if she hadn’t been giggling while she said it. Talk about pushing your luck.
I sighed and casually peeled her panties down. That got an immediate reaction.
“Fucking hell, you can’t do that. I’ll tell Christy.”
“Like you told your parents the last time you got spanked?” I asked.
“I didn’t tell them,” she protested.
“I know. They’d have grounded you if they’d know you got into trouble. But it seems to me that you can’t help pushing your luck just a little too far. A friendly reminder will do you the world of good.”
“You can remind me just as well with my panties on,” snapped Cathy, and I gave her a light slap on the bottom.
“I could, but this will be much more fun, watching you squirm about and trying to make sure I don’t see anything you think I shouldn’t. And there’s also that added incentive.”
I gave her bottom another slap and she gave a little gasp before asking the obvious.
“What added incentive?”
“Well, dressed, or rather undressed, the way you are, if you drop the F word again then I think I would be entitled to view it as an invitation.”
“What do you mean?” Suspicious. Surprising as she’s not that thick.
“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. A hundred times no.” Ah, she caught on.
“Yes, I thought you might think that normally, but with your panties gone and your bottom being warmed up,” I stopped to give her a nice warming spank, “you might change your mind. I see you’re already teasing me with what you’ve got.”
With that last comment I reached down and patted her pussy lightly. Her legs had drifted apart slightly with the last spank. There was an outraged squeal and her legs came together again.
I gave her a few more nice spanks. Just enough to have her bottom smarting somewhat but not enough to really hurt. Her legs would tend to drift apart after each spank, hurriedly closing and she remembered the possible consequences.
Resting my hand on her bottom in what was a most familiar way I paused to ask Cathy a question.
“Do you know what they mean by the gap?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The gap. It refers to that part of a girl’s anatomy where her legs don’t come completely closed. This little area here.”
I gently poked a finger through the gap at the top of her leg, poking her where her pussy was showing through.
“Wow!” she yelled. “Don’t you touch me there. Don’t you f-f-firetruck.”
“Firetruck? Did you say firetruck?”
“So what if I did? I wasn’t swearing.”
“True. It was a good catch. I guess you didn’t know you were showing your all just here?”
Her legs were parted slightly right now. In her consternation she’d forgotten. My hand slipped between them, moving smoothly over the mound and cupping her.
“No, I didn’t. Take your hand off me, please.”
“In a minute. Are you still a virgin?”
“None of your business.”
“Ah, I can find out easily enough,” I pointed out. “A little bit of exploring and there’s my answer.”
“No, don’t. OK. I’m not a virgin. What do you care, anyway? I’m not your daughter.”
“If you were my daughter I would very carefully not ask. Nor would I be teasing her this way. The fact that you’re not my daughter gives me room to play.”
“Well, you’ve had your fun. Will you please let me up?”
I swung her back onto her feet, smiling up at her while she glowered down at me.
“It won’t work,” I told her.
“What won’t work?”
“Swearing at me and then making a jump for the door before I can grab you. You’re forgetting something.”
“I wasn’t going to swear,” she said with dignity. “Forgetting what?”
“Your panties are tangled around your ankles. If you tried to run for the door you’d trip over them.”
Face red, she started to stoop to pull them up, but I stopped her.
“A moment before you do that.”
She looked at me suspiciously. Fair enough. She had a right to be suspicious. I winked, reached over, and lifted the hem of her dress, revealing all.
“You’ve grown up very nicely,” I told her. “Take this off.”
I jerked the dress a little higher.
“Why on earth would I take off my dress?”
“Because I want you to. I want to see just how well you’ve turned out. Ah, it’s not as though it’s currently hiding anything.”
She grabbed her dress out of my clutches and whipped it up and off.
“Satisfied?” she asked, defiance oozing from her very being.
“No. Turn around.”
I didn’t just tell her to turn. I had a hand on her elbow assisting her. As soon as her back was to me I was reaching for and unclipping her bra. Turning her back to face me I smiled.
“Now I’m satisfied. You’re very lovely you know.”
Cathy had a light blush and she was looking everywhere but at me. At the same time she was standing there, letting me admire her form, not trying to pull away, which she could have done quite easily. I only had the lightest touch on her arm. I tugged gently on her arm and she moved closer, winding up sitting on my knee as I eased her into position.
One of my hands rested lightly on her back while the other stroked her breasts, brushing across first one and then the other, feeling her nipples peaking and pressing against my palm as it passed. Back and forth my hand moved, feeling her breasts swell under the attention. Cathy’s breathing deepened but she didn’t say anything, just sitting there, letting it happen.
My hand dropped to her knee, running along her leg, the inside of her leg, gently caressing on my way to her mound. She was sitting with her legs slightly parted and made no effort to stop my hand from reaching her and covering her, apart from a slight gasp when my hand closed over her.
I bent to kiss a pale breast, taking a nipple between my lips and biting gently, all the while my hand gently rubbing down below. She made a little mewing sound, leaning back against my supporting arm, offering her breasts for me to taste.
Playing with her pussy I wasn’t exactly surprised to find her wet and aroused. I’d noticed when I’d poked her earlier that her lips were swollen and seeking attention. Her earlier protests had been more because she felt she was being forced rather than for lack of interest. Now I was coaxing, and she was yielding.
Tasting her breasts and teasing her mound, fingers slipping inside and agitating. A slightly horrified gasp told me that, yes, I had trespassed too near her clitoris. Cathy was looking at me, her eyes wide, and they seemed to go wider still when my fingers touched that sensitive spot a second time.
She was leaning back on my supporting arm and I had free access to her body. Now I twisted slightly, lowering my arm, bringing her down to lie on the couch. I left her there for a moment, standing up to undo my trousers and let them drop. Sitting on the couch again, erection in plain sight, hands running over her. I was watching her face but she wasn’t looking back at me. Her eyes were fastened somewhat lower.
“You look as though you’re trying to find the right words to say. Come up with any?”
“Ah, fuck me?” Cathy asked, a very odd note in her voice, as though she couldn’t believe she was saying it.
“Seeing you insist,” I murmured, moving one of her legs off the couch, giving me a place to settle.
Her pudenda was flushed and swollen, her lips full and pouting, wanting me to touch them. I rubbed a knuckle along her inner lips, pressing down, seeing them part a little more at the pressure. I replaced my knuckle with the tip of my cock, also pressing down, feeling her lips yielding, letting me pass.
“Oh, no. No, no, no. I don’t believe this,” muttered Cathy, making no effort to stop what she didn’t believe. Rather, she was staring fixedly, ensuring that she had a good view of what was happening, believing it or not.
Pressing a little harder I slowly made my way along a hot moist passage, feeling it slowly open to let me pass, closing firmly around me as I did so. I wasn’t the only one pressing. I could feel Cathy lifting her hips slightly, pressing herself up against the invader apparently wanting the invasion to be completed quickly. Not wanting to disappoint I pressed harder, driving in more forcefully, finishing up with a soft slap as our groins came together.
“Oh my god,” whispered Cathy. “You did it. I didn’t think you would but you did. How could you do this to me?”
If that was a protest it would have had more effect if her legs weren’t in the process of coming up and wrapping around me.
“You asked me to,” I said gently. “You wouldn’t want me to refuse a simple request, would you?”
She flared up a little at that.
“Ha! I can think of lots of little requests you’ve turned down in years past,” she pointed out with some asperity.
“Then you should be pleased that I’ve agreed to this one.”
To emphasise my point I pulled back and started driving home again, her hips rising smartly to meet my thrust. Oddly enough, that was the point that Cathy seemed to lose her willingness to argue, her thoughts occupied with other things.
One of those other things was driving firmly into her, with me giving it a nice bit of oomph. She was working hard, pushing up hard to meet me, making sure that she was able to match everything that I did, her natural competiveness working in my favour. We had a nice rhythm going almost from the word go, while she had both arms and legs wrapped around me, apparently not wanting me to escape now that she had me where she wanted me. (I know. I seduced her. Or did I?)
Being a gentleman I didn’t forget to pay polite (greedy) attention to her breasts, and a fine pair of breasts they were. I massaged them, nibbled on them, probably left some nice bite marks on them, and Cathy lapped it all up. She twisted and squirmed under me, wanting me to touch her as much as possible in as many places as possible, while all the time my cock was going thump, thump, thump, driving firmly home time after time.
Her voice finally came back. Only her voice. Her ability to form coherent speech was still missing. A series of gasps, groans, little cries, and one word comments poured forth. The comments seemed to be both praise and requests. At least I assume that ‘yes’ was praise, and ‘harder’ was a request. The plea of ‘more’ I put in both categories. As requested I gave her more, going in harder.
Eventually she was just wailing, giving out with, ‘Ah, ah, ah,” as I drove home and I knew exactly what she meant. I felt like giving out with, “Ah, ah, ah,” myself as I took her, as I was putting in a fair bit of effort, relishing the feel of my cock plunging down her passage, enjoying the heat, the excitement, the way I was affecting her.
I was enjoying it a bit too much, possibly. I damn-well missed the signs that she was about to climax, only realising at the last possible moment. Then it was a case of, ‘oh, shit,’ and a frantic effort by me to catch up before she actually climaxed, finding her beating me to the draw and then forcing me to follow, her shaking under me and me jerking wildly on top of her as she took me.
We were dressed and Cathy took her leave, looking awfully smug as she went. I assumed that that was the end of it. I didn’t think for one moment that she’d be back for another round. Mind you, I wouldn’t have complained if she did, but I totally didn’t expect it. Why would I? She knew plenty of men more her age.
And she didn’t return, or at least, she hasn’t to this point. The fact that she didn’t return didn’t stop her making mischief.
Later in the week my daughter had gone out on a date with some guy who wasn’t good enough for her. I’d given him the evil eye as they left, letting him know that if he laid one finger on her I’d break it off and feed it to him, and that went for other body parts. Not that an unvoiced threat would work too well if she decided she didn’t want it to.
About half an hour after Christy had gone there was a knock on the door and then Sophia stuck her head in, wanting to know if Christy was home.
Now Sophia is another long-time friend of Christy’s. She’s probably known us even longer than Cathy has. Sophia has a twin sister. The girls are not identical. While they both have figures that could be described as hot, Alex has a face like a Botticelli angel, whereas Sophia is what would be called handsome. It was quite interesting, as you could compare their faces, feature by feature, and they seem identical, but the totality of one face was so vastly different from the other. That’s genetics for you.
But I digress. I explained to Sophia that she’d just missed Christy as she’d gone out on a date. Sophia nodded, giving me the impression that she already knew that, and came marching in to look down at me, giving me the evil eye.
I’m like, ‘What have I done?’, and just sat there looking back at her, waiting to see what she wanted. I didn’t have to wait long.
“You’ve been screwing Cathy, haven’t you?” she accused me.
“What? Did she tell you that?” I couldn’t really see Cathy boasting about what had happened or letting on in any way.
“No,” said Sophia, and I could hear the silent ‘Duh’ attached to the simple word. “But someone happened to mention you while we were talking and she smirked and got this unbelievably smug look on her face. As soon as I saw it I knew she’d had you.”
I knew that smug look and it was very believable, let me tell you. I waxed innocent.
“Now, really, Sophia,” I protested. “Even if I did happen to have sex with Cathy surely you wouldn’t expect me to admit it.”
“So you’re saying you did but won’t admit it?”
“No. I’m saying I won’t comment on the subject. I won’t say I had sex with her and neither will I say I didn’t have sex with her. What I am saying is I won’t comment on my sexual relations with anyone, to anyone.”
“Well, you did, I know it. I accused her and she didn’t deny it.”
“I’ll bet she didn’t admit it, either,” I guessed. “You’re just making wild assumptions. What business is it of yours, anyway?”
“Wild bullshit,” Sophia fumed. “You did. I’ve known you longer that Cathy and you’ve never made a fucking pass at me. How could you possibly jump a skinny cow like that?”
Now I’ll admit that Cathy was more slender that Sophia but I wouldn’t call her skinny. A very nice armful in my opinion. Not that I was going to admit that, either.
“I haven’t said that I did make a pass at her,” I pointed out. “The only evidence seems to be in your imagination. And please don’t swear. You know I don’t like it.”
“My imagination, hell. If you’d seen the look on Cathy’s face you’d have no doubt either. And I’ll swear if I fucking want to. You’ve got no right to be fucking my friends.”
Sophia was starting to really irritate me. What business was my sex life to her? I was now giving her the evil eye.
I rose to my feet, glaring at her.
“Who the hell do you think you are? What the hell has my private life got to do with you? On top of that your language is the language of the gutter. Made a pass at Cathy, you say? Has it occurred to you that maybe she was smirking because she had a bit of an argument with me the last time she was here? An argument that she lost? Maybe she was laughing over some chastisement she received? Let’s see if a little chastisement makes you laugh.”
Sophia went to take a step backwards but she was woefully slow. I already had hold of her arm and was propelling her forward.
“Now what would be a reasonable chastisement for a pert young miss?” I asked while bending her over the arm of the couch. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe a good spanking?”
“What? You can’t do that,” came the vigorous protest as Sophia found her dress being flipped up and her panties going down.
“I can’t?” I asked, my hand coming forward to cover her mound, nicely exposed in Sophia’s current position. “Then maybe I can think of something more appropriate.”
“Stop. What are you doing?” It seemed Sophia wasn’t too keen on having her pussy stroked to life.
“Well, as you seem so interested in my sex life it seems to me that maybe you should get closer acquainted with it,” I snapped, dropping my trousers.
I pressed heavily against her, my erection between her legs, its natural upwards lift causing it to rub along her slit.
“You wouldn’t!” she exclaimed.
“What makes you think that? You seem to think I would where Cathy was concerned. Why not you?”
I adjusted my position slightly, pulling back a little so that the head of my cock was now pressing against her slit rather than the length. I pressed a little harder.
“Any comments?” I asked, feeling her lips yield and then close around me.
“Oh my fucking god,” was all she had to say while my cock drove steadily forward. She was hot and wet, which I must say I found slightly surprising. I hadn’t thought she’d had time to get aroused, but aroused she was and my cock was moving in smoothly.
There was a slap of groin against groin, followed quite quickly by the next one as I pulled out and drove back in. Sophia said some rude words to me but she also hoisted her hips and drove back to meet me.
Hands holding her hips I drove in quite fiercely. I’d assumed that I’d probably have to encourage her to move with me but not so. Right from that first thrust she was with me, pushing back against me just as hard, and just as urgently, as my own thrust.
It was one of these times when a rhythm was not established. I was just, to put it honestly, fucking Sophia as hard as I could and she, still being brutally honest, was fucking me back, no holds barred. I started hard and kept going hard, speed slowly building as I went, and Sophia bobbed her bottom and stayed with me, matching stroke for stroke.
The trouble with something like that was that it just can’t last. You wind up doing too much too fast and then it all blows apart on you. I was going harder and faster and my climax was laughing its head off and heading towards me at a great rate of knots. Fortunately it seemed that Sophia’s energies were also spiralling out of control. I did beat her to a climax but I was still pumping and winding down when she went, putting her every effort into wringing the last possible drop from me.
Afterwards Sophia turned on me.
“There is no way that you did that to Cathy,” she said. “She wouldn’t have stood for it.”
“I have never admitted to doing anything to Cathy,” I pointed out.
She snorted, disbelief a living entity surrounding her.
“I’ll find out,” she said. “I’ll nag her until she has to tell me.”
Why? What the hell did it matter to her? I watched her leave, perplexed. Women! Damned if I understood the little dears.
Christy came up to me a few days later, sighing.
“What’s the problem, love?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, sounding exasperated. “It’s Cathy and Sophia. I was talking to Sophia and Alex earlier and Cathy came up. She gave Sophia a really smug and superior smile for some reason. All Sophia did was laugh and give an equally smug smile which promptly wiped the smile off Cathy’s face. Then they both laughed and gave Alex that smug smile and she looked furious. They’ve got some secret thing going on and I don’t know what it is.”
“Well, if they’re not giving you the smug smiles I think you’ll find it doesn’t concern you,” I said tactfully. “They’re probably trying to one up each other. I’d ignore it.”
“Huh,” Christy grumbled. “Oh, Alex wants to know what nights you’re home. She says she wants to discuss a problem she’s having with her photography.”
God help me. Alex with her Botticelli looks wanting advice from me on photography? I couldn’t see it, somehow. A competitive Alex trying to one up her sister? That I could see.