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 goinsane.

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 thatjustbarely 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."