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."