My Best Friends Father Ch. 05

We walked into the small, dimly lit Chinese restaurant and were immediately seated. It looked like it was a quiet night for them; only two other couples and a group of four strapping young men, probably not much older than I was, were seated about the place.

We were led directly past the four guys and Mr P's hand squeezed my waist as we walked past them. I saw one of the guys' eyes widen as he saw my panties sticking out the top of Mr P's jeans, and could have died of embarrassment as I saw him from the corner of my eye, leaning over to whisper to his friends. My face flushed pink as Becky's father squeezed my ass before allowing me to sit down in my chair. I was sure the blokes at the other table had a clear view, and knew I was right when I risked a peek over at them to see them smiling and staring at me. My blush deepened.

Mr P sat me in the chair adjacent to me but opposite the table of four young guys. I tried to sit demurely, tucking my short skirt under my bottom and keeping my knees pressed firmly together, but I could still feel their eyes on me and I squirmed in my seat. Mr P ordered for both of us and I barely tasted my food as we sat and dined. The conversation got off to a shaky start, but eventually we fell into an easy rhythm and I began to relax and enjoy myself.

About midway through the meal, Mr P stopped talking and just stared at me with a strange look in his eyes for a long while. I began to get nervous. I had come to recognise that look. It was the look he got when he was aroused and wanted something from me. I gulped and wriggled in my seat as I felt my pussy begin to moisten once more. To my increasing embarrassment, my nipples hardened, peaking beneath my tight, white singlet and announcing to the world that I was excited.

My face flushed as I distinctly heard whispered comments coming from the other table. "Oh man, check out her nipples! She ain't wearing any bra and it's definitely not cold in here!" One voice said. Then, "Well you know she ain't wearing any panties 'cause that guy's got 'em poking out the top of his pocket!" Then they laughed and my face coloured even more.

"Erika." Mr P's low voice drifted over the table and drew my eyes towards his. He was sitting on my left hand side, and his eyes seemed to drown out all the noise in the restaurant. The rest of the world shrank away as I lost myself in his gaze and it seemed it was just he and I staring at each other. His hand took hold of mine, his fingers stroking up and down along the top, and he smiled at me. "Come here, honey," he said softly, and without even thinking about it I leant towards him.

His lips felt so incredibly soft against mine as he lightly brushed a kiss across them; smooth, pliant. I shivered and my lips parted slightly, yearning for more to happen. He pressed his mouth more fully against mine and I felt his tongue glide inside my mouth. Our tongues danced against each other softly, lusciously, until my breathing was haphazard and my nipples were again hard and aching. My breasts hung close to our joined hands, as I leant towards Mr P's face, and I gasped against his lips as I felt his fingertip flick slowly across the sensitive tip of my left bud.

He sat back slowly and smiled at me. "Take a look now and tell me if they're laughing?" Mr P whispered softly to me.

I glanced their way to see a look of shock on all their faces before they all turned their heads away from me and pretended to be looking at anything but our table. They seemed to have started squirming in their seats, uncomfortable bulges beginning to make themselves known in their jeans. I covered my mouth and giggled as I looked back at Mr P. He smiled at me and winked.

The restaurant's tablecloths were very short and I had no doubt that the guys had a clear view under our table, so I almost gasped as I felt his hand touch my knee. Mr P leaned in close again and brushed a light kiss across my lips before he brought his mouth close to my ear. "Erika, this just won't do." He told me softly, feeling my knees pressed tightly together, as he gently ran a finger up and down the skin of my lower thigh. "I want you to open your knees, honey."

I gasped and then blushed a deep crimson, lowering my eyes as I stammered quietly, "Mr P, I... I... I... can't."

He drew back from me and stared into my eyes. "Erika," he whispered, "of course you can, honey. Just keep looking at me, don't think about anything else, just me, and you can do it."

I gulped again as his hand still stroked up and down on my knee, and his eyes bored into mine. He brought his other hand up to my face to brush his fingers across my lips ever so slightly, making my eyes flutter in sexual need. I could feel my pussy getting wetter by the second, knowing that if I parted my thighs I would be exposing myself to the full scrutiny of the four guys sitting across the way from us.

His eyes held me captive as he stared at me, and I felt myself giving in to his suggestion. His voice whispered to me once more, low and deep, hypnotizing; he said, "Open your knees, honey."

As if I was powerless to prevent it, I felt my knees beginning to part. Nothing existed except his eyes and his words, and my eyes rolled up into my head as I felt his hand travelling higher along my inner thigh towards my wet centre. His fingers dipped down between my legs and a small orgasm shot through me as he lightly caressed my clit. A few seconds was all it lasted, in truth, but to me it felt almost like an eternity, and I never wanted it to end. I felt like a complete slut, like some sexual junkie that just couldn't get enough of these debaucheries.

When he drew back his hand and gently pressed my knees back together, I blinked and the spell was broken. I started to breathe again and very nearly hyperventilated. Mr P clasped my chin and spoke gently to me.

"Calm down, baby." He said softly. "Breathe deeper, slow it down."

I eventually got my breathing under control, and my whole body gave a shuddered as a wave of sensation rolled over me. When I was finally able to function normally again, Mr P smiled broadly at me. "Well done, honey, you did great."

I felt my skin flush in pleasure once again and I grinned as my heart skipped a beat.

"Are you horny, Erika?" He asked me forthrightly, his thumb stroking along my jaw line.

I chewed on my bottom lip as I nodded and then answered, "Yes Mr P."

"Good. Let's go home so I can fuck you until you pass out."

"Yes, please," I responded breathlessly.

"But first..." He said, as his hand disappeared beneath the table again, only to return with my panties in it. He brushed them lightly across his lips and inhaled deeply. "...I think you should put these on. It may be a bit chilly outside and I wouldn't want your cute little pussy to get too cold."

My hand trembled noticeably as I took my panties from his grasp, blushing as I did so. "I'll just go to the bathroom."

"No," he told me, "put them on here, please."

"But..." I began, glancing over at the other table quickly and noting that all four guys were staring our way, their gaze riveted. My voice trailed off, my eyes flicking back to Mr P as I realised it would be useless to argue. I knew one way or another I would give in and do as he asked. He'd catch me with those eyes and that damnable voice and I'd be helpless to do anything other than obey. I began to look around...

"Don't..." He said. "No one can see you other than those four boys at the other table. And I honestly think they don't mind watching what you're doing. Put your panties on, Erika."

I swallowed hard. My pussy was saturated and throbbing with need. Once again I wondered how one man could do this to me, turn me into a tramp, a harlot, some kind of sex-crazed slut capable of such blatantly debaucherous acts? And as all these thoughts whirled through my mind, I found at the end of it all, I didn't really care. I loved it all.

I liked bad boys because of the excitement they offered me. Well Mr P was the baddest boy... no, he was the baddest "Man" I had ever met and he offered me so much excitement, I felt breathless nearly all of the time. I loved the way he took control of me, just with his eyes and his voice. How he made me do the things I did tonight, though he never forced me. He simply asked me, knowing somehow that deep down it was what I really wanted to do, and that all I needed was a bit of gentle persuasion.

I kicked my sandals off and leant forward, dropping my panties beneath the table for the last time, and quickly lifted my feet to pull them on. "Slowly," Mr P ordered.

I bit my lip as I stared at him. His eyes never left my face. He didn't really care about watching me pull my panties up; he just wanted to watch my face, and see there my acceptance of what I was doing for him. I put my feet back in my sandals and slowed my pace. I dragged my underwear slowly up my calves, over my knees, and along my lower thighs.

"Now stand and pull them the rest of the way up. I want those boys to get a good look," Mr P said quietly, with a small smile. I shuddered, my heart rate tripling, as the blood rushed through my veins, threatening to make me pass out.

I stood and did as he asked me, slowly pulling the panties up the rest of the way. My skirt lifted as my hands came higher and the guys sitting across the way all gasped or groaned when they got an eyeful of my waxed pussy; as it was covered up by black lace.

Two of them squirmed uncomfortably, one had a hand pressed hard against his crotch and was squeezing himself, and the last guy actually stood up and made his way to the bathroom.

I smoothed my skirt and remained standing, still staring at Mr P. "Good girl," he told me as he rose too. Pulling his wallet from his pocket, he dropped enough money on the table to cover dinner and left a generous tip. "Come on, honey, let's go."

He shifted around me and put his body between me and the three guys left at the table as we walked out of the restaurant. He paid them no attention. It was like they weren't even there as he slung his arm around my waist and guided me out of the place.

We were in his car and headed home in no time. Mr P barely kept to the speed limit as we wove in and out of traffic. There was no pit stop for a quick head job as had happened on the way to the restaurant, there was no conversation, just Mr P's determined driving. I was half worried that he would get a ticket for reckless driving, if not for speeding. I needn't have worried, though, as we made it back to his house without incident.

Pulling to a stop in the driveway, we were out of the car and along the path in seconds, both of us anxious to get right to it. As Mr P opened the door, I noticed with some surprise that his hands trembled slightly. And as I thought about it, in the back of my mind the knowledge that Mr P was going to fuck my ass tonight threatened to undo me, but I pushed the thought deeper into some dark recess of my brain and walked through the door.

As the door slammed behind us, Mr P's arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me towards him. He spun me around and pushed me hard up against the wall. His hot mouth found mine in an urgent kiss, his tongue probing deep and long. His hands roamed roughly over me, his nails catching at my skin as he drew the strings of my singlet down my arms, tugging the shirt down around my waist and exposing my full breasts. His hand kneaded at my mounds, tightly moulding them in his palms as his thumb and forefinger tugged relentlessly at my nipples, causing me to gasp against his lips.

His mouth burnt a trail along my chin to my ear, his lips and teeth sucking and nibbling on the lobe before his soft voice filled my head. "God Erika, I've never been so fucking horny in all my life. You have no idea what you do to me."

My body shivered as my own hands roamed urgently over his body, finding his belt and yanking at it to get it free. "Me either..." I was going to say Mr P, but at the last moment remembered his reaction in the car and changed that last word. "...Sir!"

I heard him growl as he sank his teeth into the soft flesh of my shoulder, making me jump and cry out in painful ecstasy. I got his belt loose and wasted no time in getting his button and zipper undone as well. I grabbed at his shirt and tried to get the buttons undone, wanting to feel his skin against my bare breasts, but there were too many buttons and they were too small. With a frustrated growl I grabbed the shirt at the centre and ripped my arms apart, tearing the buttons loose, before pushing the shirt from his shoulders until it stopped at his elbows.

I heard Mr P's hard groan as his mouth came back to mine to assault my lips once more. His hands skimmed down my back, over my ass, and along the backs of my thighs until they could move under my skirt and come back up to grip my panty-covered ass properly. His hands massaged my ass cheeks in a circular motion, pulling them apart and then mashing them back together as my hands eagerly roamed over his shoulders, down his chest and then along his sides to his back. I raked my nails lightly down his spine, making Mr P hiss as his fingers dug into my ass hard. He lifted me effortlessly off the floor, thumping my body back against the wall with his own.

My arms came up around his neck as my legs intuitively wrapped themselves around his waist. The urgency was building to monumental proportions as I felt one of his arms reach under my thigh to push down the front of his boxer briefs and free his monster erection. I felt his other hand shift under me and grab the crotch of my wet panties, yanking them aside. I felt the tip of his incredibly thick cock poised at my juicy pussy.

He broke from our heated kiss. "Tell me you want it, honey, beg me for it." He said in a breathless growl.

"Oh God Mr P!" I nearly screamed. "I want your cock!! Please Sir, please fuck me, fuck me hard! Pleeaase..."

"Fuck yeah!" He swore as his grip on my ass tightened and his hips thrust upward, impaling me on his tremendous rod in one fluid stroke.

I think I let out a scream of pleasure and pain as his cock filled me completely. Recklessly throwing my head back in ecstasy, my skull slammed hard against the wall and white stars of pain burst behind my eyes. I felt dazed but managed to hold onto consciousness as the pain shocked through my young body, intensifying the carnal desire that gripped me and sent my body careening towards a massive orgasm.

Becky's father's rhythm faltered as he breathlessly asked if I was okay. "I'm fine," I gasped, "just don't stop, please, Sir," I begged.

I heard his guttural response and his hands dug into my ass harshly as he rammed himself into me over and over again. "Yes! Yes!" I screamed. "Oh fuck, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum!!!!" I felt my tight, wet pussy contract savagely, clenching down on Mr P"s engorged shaft with so much force I felt my cum almost fire out of me to coat his pelvis and balls. An earth-shattering orgasm erupted, sending a hot flush of blood rushing from my clit out to the tips of my fingers and toes. My scalp prickled and the hair on the nape of my neck stood on end. My breath caught in my throat, and I think my face may have turned a tad blue as my whole body tensed up, my thighs tightening around Mr P's waist so much I think I heard him grunt. My whole body became so rigid I prevented Mr P from even moving.

The air exploded from my lungs in a great gasp as the final throes of intense pleasure shuddered its way out of my body, and I felt myself slump.

"Fucking horny little slut!" Mr P's voice spat at me through clenched teeth. His hands shifted to my hips as he pulled back and slammed himself forward. He pounded into me like a jackhammer, his cock driving deeper and deeper with every thrust, filling me with every last inch of his fat cock, until I heard my screams of pleasure echoing off the walls of the hallway.

My ass and hips were repeatedly pummelled back against the wall, Mr P exerting so much force that a small, nearby painting fell from its hook and hit the floor with a loud thud. My hips and pussy were being brutalised and all I could do was beg for more as I felt another orgasm building.

Mr P's grunts were becoming louder and louder. I knew he was getting close and I raised my voice in encouragement. "Oh God, Mr P, yes, oh Sir, please cum. Cum inside me, please, I want to feel your hot, sticky load shoot inside my cunt!"

"Oh Fuck!" Mr P groaned. "You're such a dirty little cum slut, aren't you Erika?"

"Yes Sir!"

"And whose slut are you?" He growled, his hips still ramming into me.

"Yours! I'm your slut, Mr P. Only yours!" I cried out.

"You'd better fucking believe it!" He yelled, as he thrust forward so savagely I felt my breath being forced out of my lungs. "Oh fuck, here I cum, honey. I'm going to fill your tight little cunt up till it overflows!"

"Oh yes, yes Sir," I gasped as I felt my climax peak and then break over me, causing my body to tense up again.

"Oh yeah, slut, cum with me, baby," Mr P groaned fiercely as he drove his cock hard into me for the final time.

I heard a definitive "crack" as he drove his last stroke home, and the wall behind my back caved in under the pressure and force. A jagged split shot from beneath my ass all the way to the ceiling. Small bits of plaster rained down on us, as we both tried to catch our breaths. Mr P groaned and his knees buckled.

We fell to the floor in a heap, his cock still planted firmly inside me; sweat pouring from our bodies, clothes askew. My body continued to convulse as I lay atop Mr P trembling, my breathing ragged, my body spent. I could feel myself sinking, my awareness fading as Mr P's hand gently stroked my hair back from my brow.

"I think we nearly brought the house down," he said breathlessly and chuckled. I think I giggled in response and then sighed in contentment, my whole body relaxing, as I passed out.

I awakened briefly at being jostled, my eyes opening for a split second and my awareness rising up just long enough to realise that Mr P was carrying me again, before sinking back into oblivion.

I awoke sometime later to the feel of fingers tentatively examining my head. I hissed as they touched a tender spot and my hand came up to grasp at a wrist. "Ow," I croaked; my throat parched and scratchy. "That hurts."

"I know, honey." Mr P's deep, gravelly voice said softly from behind me. "But I have to check. You hit your head pretty hard. I need to make sure you didn't give yourself a concussion." I withdrew my hand and meekly submitted to the exploring fingers. They gently probed the back of my skull, pressing lightly on the painful lump. I whimpered a little. "Do you have a headache?" Mr P asked as his fingers retreated from my hair to lightly slide over the skin of my back.

"I don't think so," I answered with a shiver, opening my eyes. My vision was a little blurry to begin with, but soon enough everything came back into focus. One by one my senses reasserted themselves, and I found myself lying naked on a soft comforter with a black satin-covered pillow beneath my head. I inhaled deeply, sucking Mr P's manly scents deep into my lungs. I could almost taste his aftershave, his shampoo and the light tang of his sweat. I sighed and snuggled deeper into his pillow as I floated in an aromatic heaven.

I was quickly brought back to reality, as I felt something wet and extremely cold being pressed against the back of my head. I cringed away from it. "Keep still. This will help with the swelling. You are going to have a lump the size of an ostrich egg on the back of your head." Mr P told me gently as his warm lips pressed themselves against the back of my bare shoulder. I shivered and my nipples screwed themselves up in reaction. "You'll have to be more careful next time."