Revenge is Sweetbylily_ann©
It was pouring rain as I pounded on the door to my best friend's house. The lights weren't on and her car wasn't in the driveway, but I was so enraged that I didn't care. I was about ready to give up on the door and just crash through the front window when the light in the front hall came on and the door flew open.
"What in the hell..." Ashley's dad looked furious until he saw me. His jaw dropped as he looked at me, and he was silent for a moment. "Nicole, what's going on?"
"Where is she, Mr. Stevenson?" I asked, my face flushed. "I need to speak with Ashley, please."
"She's not home," he said. He looked worried, though he wasn't looking at me. I guess he had reason to be worried but I wasn't thinking about that. All I was thinking about was that I wanted to find my best friend, and tear her hair out.
"Where is she?" I demanded. "I'm gonna kill her, Mr. Stevenson, I swear to God, I..."
"Nicole, calm down," he said. He put his hands on my shoulders, shaking me gently, though he was still looking determinedly away. "She and her sister went to visit her grandma, and they won't be back until tomorrow. Now come inside, calm down, and dry off. You're going to catch pneumonia."
He let go of me, and I stepped into the house as he shut the door behind me. The wind that was blowing my skirt around my bare legs stopped, and I immediately felt the warm air in the house against me. I glanced in the hall mirror. My blonde hair was matted against my head, dripping water down my makeup smeared face, and my skin was white as snow. I laughed, a short, desperate bark, before I burst into tears and sank down on the floor.
"For Christ's sake, what's going on?" I heard Mr. Stevenson say as I buried my head in my hands. I heard a door open and after a moment, a large jacket being placed around my shoulders. "Did you walk here? Nicole, honey, talk to me. What's going on?"
I shook my head as I sobbed. "She slept with him," I coughed. "She... she..."
"Yes, Ashley!" I almost screamed. "She slept with... she FUCKED my boyfriend!"
My heart was pounding as I sobbed into my hands. Mr. Stevenson was quiet for a bit, holding the jacket against me as I cried.
"Are you sure?" he finally said.
"Of course I'm sure," I sobbed. "There's p-pictures." I started to cry even harder, and I began to cough as I cried.
Mr. Stevenson grabbed my hand. "You have to calm down a bit," he said softly. "You're going to hyperventilate." He wrapped his arms around me as I sat on the floor, holding me until my coughs subsided and my sobs had turned into just sniffling. As I calmed down, I began to shiver. Once I sneezed, Mr. Stevenson pulled me to my feet.
"We have to get you into some dry clothes," he said. I looked at him. He looked worried, but also angry, and his jaw kept twitching. "Come on, I'll grab something of Ashl..."
"No," I said, cutting him off. "I don't want that whore's clothes on me."
"She might be a whore, Nicole," he said, "but she's still my daughter. Come on, there's got to be some explanation."
I shook my head. "She... she..."
"Come on, you can't wear soaking clothes. You look like you walked here in the pouring rain. Why didn't you drive?"
"Gas," I muttered, as he helped me up the stairs. "I'm not wearing her clothes, Mr. Stevenson, I refuse to..."
"Whatever she did, it's not worth you getting sick," he replied. "Nothing's that bad."
"Oh yeah?" I shot back. I pushed him away from me and led myself to Ashley's room. Mr. Stevenson followed me, standing in the doorway as I sat down in the chair in front of her computer. My skirt made a loud squelch as I sat, and dripped all over her floor. I opened my email and clicked on the newest message, which was from my boyfriend's best friend. I clicked on the attachment, then looked at Mr. Stevenson. "Come here, you can't see from there."
He entered the room slowly, walking up behind me, and gasped as the picture loaded. My best friend, his daughter, had her head turned to look at herself in the mirror beside her. My boyfriend was behind her, his cock buried in her ass, holding my digital camera as he took a picture in the mirror.
I clicked on the next one. They must have set the timer on this one, because it showed Ashley straddling my boyfriend, with just the head of his cock nestled in her pussy. Mr. Stevenson made a small, disgusted sound, and I took that as my cue to click the next picture, which was a close up of my boyfriend's cock resting against Ashley's ass, globs of cum dripping down her smooth skin. I let go of the mouse and turned the chair to look at Mr. Stevenson. "Not that bad, you think?"
He was staring at the screen, his mouth open slightly. "She's not a whore," he finally whispered. "She's a fucking ass slut."
I laughed again, that same desperate bark, and walked away from the computer. Mr. Stevenson continued to stare at the open pictures on the computer, his face looking like it was set in stone. I paced Ashley's room, my desire to destroy all of her possessions gone as I tried to think of a better revenge.
"I'm going to call her," Mr. Stevenson announced suddenly. "She's coming home right now."
"No," I said. "I haven't decided what I'm going to do to her yet."
"Deal with your boyfriend first," he replied. "I'll deal with Ashley." He turned away from me, but not before I caught him adjusting himself. He saw me looking and turned even faster, but I could still see him in the mirror over Ashley's dresser. There was a very noticeable bulge in his pants, and Mr. Stevenson realised he had been caught. His mouth opened, as if he were about to say something, but I made a gagging sound and took a step back.
"You're fucking sick," I gasped, backing up. "You're getting off on those pictures!"
Now, I've known the Stevenson's for years. Ashley and I have been best friends since elementary school, and Mr. Stevenson and my dad used to go to high school together. Ashley and I have always been inseparable. When we graduated high school, neither of us had boyfriends, and instead of bringing just any boy, she and I went together. I met my boyfriend during our first year of college, which Ashley and I attended together, and now, at summer break, she had slept with him. She was sick. Mr. Stevenson and I had always been close, too. His wife died when Ashley and her sister were really little, so he was always the one home when I went to Ashley's. He used to take me to soccer practice with Ashley when my parents couldn't drive, and when they got divorced, he let me stay at his house even though Ashley was away at camp. Now I was discovering that he got off on watching his daughter get fucked. I couldn't believe that these people, who I had known for most of my life, were so disgusting.
"No, Nicole, that's not..." he started, covering himself and blushing as he turned to face me.
"You pervert! If I wasn't so pissed off at Ashley, I'd report you. You probably fucking... touch her, don't you?"
He took a step towards me and I backed into the wall. "I would never, ever touch my daughter. Do you understand?" His face was contorted in anger. "That's not what... what this- " he motioned to his cock, which was definitely hard under his jeans " --is about."
"No?" I said, my voice shaking. I was trembling as he walked towards me, only some of it from the fact that I was freezing. "You didn't get hard looking at pictures of your little girl getting fucked?" I shuddered, just saying the words.
He stood in front of me, his mouth open to say something. I studied him, the sick feeling I had being overcome by fear at being the only person in the house with him. He didn't look like a pervert. In fact, there were days when I had noticed just how good looking Mr. Stevenson was. He was old enough to be my father -- he went to school with my father, even -- but he was nothing like my dad. He was in good shape, with short blonde hair, and was much taller than average. I kicked myself for thinking of that, given the present situation.
"No, I didn't," he replied finally.
"Then what was it?" I asked, my voice shaking, trying to figure out what he could possibly be getting off on.
He stepped back from me, and I frowned, slightly confused. "You really want to know?" he said, his face red. I nodded. He swallowed hard. "You're standing there, soaking wet, and I... I can see through your shirt."
I looked down. Sure enough, my blouse was soaked through, and it was clinging to my tits. My breasts are fairly small, and most days I don't bother wearing a bra, although in hindsight I was wearing a white shirt that day and probably should have had one on. I covered myself quickly, looking up at Mr. Stevenson and blushing furiously as I realised what I had just accused him of. "I'm so sorry," I gasped, incredibly embarrassed. "I... oh God, I didn't mean to... I'm so sorry..."
"It's fine," Mr. Stevenson mumbled. "I didn't mean to look, but... well, you're a pretty girl, and I... well, I'm the one who should be sorry, Nicole."
I didn't say anything for a moment. Truth be told, I was actually kind of flattered, now that I knew Mr. Stevenson wasn't a perverted freak. I looked at him as he stared at the ground, his hands covering the bulge in his pants. He was a very handsome man, and as I stared at him, I began to think of a way to get back at both Ashley and my boyfriend.
I took a step forward. "You shouldn't be sorry, Mr. Stevenson. It's kind of flattering, actually," I said.
He laughed softly. "I'm forty-five, Nicole. Getting hard looking at a nineteen year old girl who is my daughter's best friend -- and my best friend's daughter -- isn't a good thing. I can't help it, though. Every time you come over here, I..." he stopped, and shook his head. "God, I shouldn't be telling you that. You already think I'm sick, I shouldn't tell you that."
This was even better, I thought. I looked around the room. Ashley was a normal girl, and her room was fairly messy, but her bed was clear of stuff, and nicely made. I walked over and sat down on it, leaning on my hands and pressing my knees together as I looked at Mr. Stevenson. "I don't mind, Mr. Stevenson. In fact, it kind of helps me."
He continued to stare at the ground. "I don't see how it helps you."
"Well, I've just been cheated on by my boyfriend, and my best friend. I've always thought you were a very good looking man, and well, you obviously would be able to help me... well, get back at them."
He finally looked at me. "I can't," he said. "I mean... you're nineteen."
I giggled. "And I'm all wet. How about you help me out of these wet clothes?"
"And it's my daughter... Honey, I'm mad at her, but I can't do that to her," he continued, though I noticed that my comment had made his voice tremble a bit.
"You don't understand what she did to me," I said. "Imagine that someone knew what would hurt you the worst in the world, and then they did it. I know you want to, and right now there's nothing I want more."
He stood, staring at me for a minute, looking conflicted. I bit my lip as he looked at me. "Please, Mr. Stevenson?" I said softly, pleading with him.
"Your father is going to kill me," he whispered before walking up to me. He dropped to his knees in front of me, though he was so tall that he could almost still see eye-to-eye with me. He touched my knee, and his hands were warm against my goose-bumped skin. His eyes took me in, staring at my body and looking as though he were trying to memorise the look of my wet clothes clinging to me. "You're freezing," he said, running his hands down my calves and then to the hem of my skirt. I sighed as he tried to warm me up a bit, though my skin was so damp that it wasn't doing much.
He put his hands on my hips. "Stand up," he ordered. I stood slowly, his hands guiding me up as I stood and staying on my hips. His nose was almost brushing the wet skirt, and I could tell that it was lined up against my mound. He reached behind me and unzipped my skirt. It stuck to my hips and he pulled it down, letting it fall to the floor with a sloppy thud. I shivered as I was left in just a tiny, black lace thong, the air in the room chilling me even further and causing most of my pale skin to b covered in goose-bumps. Mr. Stevenson let out an appreciative sigh and slid his hands up to my ass, his hands warm against my bare skin as he buried his face into my covered mound. He sucked my clit through the thin thong, and I gasped as my body started to tingle. He used his grip on my ass to pull my body closer to his face, his face just pressed against me now. He stayed like that for a moment before he brought his hands to the waistband of the thong, slowly pulling it down my legs. Once he had it off, he stood up. I had never stood this close to Mr. Stevenson before, and had to look up to see him. He raised his hands to my shirt and started to unbutton it. Once it was undone, he peeled it away from my damp skin and dropped it to the floor. I shivered as I stood, nude, in front of him, unable to keep myself from shaking as he then took a step back and stared at me.
"Is everything okay, Mr. Stevenson?" I asked softly, concerned that he was going to back out on me. I crossed my arms and rubbed my upper arms, trying to warm up.
He nodded, then paused and shook his head. "Nicole... your dad is going to kill me if I do this to you. And Ashley will hate both of us forever."
I stood naked and still shivering in front of him as my face fell. "Please..." I whispered. "I'd never tell my dad... and I won't tell Ashley that you did it because of what I told you." He continued to shake his head as he stared at me. "Mr. Stevenson, please. I know you want this..."
He swallowed again. "You just want this for revenge," he said. "I..."
"I want it, though," I said, and I wasn't lying. Just having him undress me and the little bit of attention he had paid to my clit had me dripping wet. The warmth between my legs was spreading all over my lower body. "Please, I know you want this. Don't you want me, Mr. Stevenson?"
He opened his mouth, and I anticipated protest. "I'll let you do anything to me that you want."
His mouth shut and he looked me straight in the eye. "Anything?"
I grinned. "Anything at all."
He stared at me for a moment longer and then began to unbuckle his belt. "Get on your knees," he ordered. I dropped onto the carpeted floor obediently, looking up at him. He took his belt off and walked over to me. "Take my cock out," he said. He sounded confident, but also a bit nervous, as if I wouldn't listen to him.
I grinned. Little did he know that this was one of my favourite parts of sex. I loved to suck cock, and I loved to look up and watch as the guy I was sucking got off. I reached up and unbuttoned Mr. Stevenson's pants, sliding them down his legs, and teasing his cock through his boxers. I reached back up and grabbed the waistband of his boxers, slowly bringing them down.
His cock sprung out, and I grinned, impressed. He jumped a bit as I wrapped a hand around him, probably because my hands were freezing. His cock was of average length, but incredibly thick. I flicked my tongue against his tip, licking the underside of his shaft lightly before twirling my tongue around his tip. I heard Mr. Stevenson gasp and I continued to lick his smooth cock, coating him with my saliva until it was glistening. Once it was wet, I took his tip in my mouth and sucked gently. Mr. Stevenson groaned and I slide him in my mouth a bit more. I sucked him a little more, stroking his wet cock with my other hand as I bobbed my head teasingly on him. Each time I moved on his cock, I let it slide a little further in my mouth, until I had as much as I could handle, which I'm proud to say was most of it. I glanced up. Mr. Stevenson's hands were resting on the back of my head, and his eyes were squeezed shut. I kept sucking on his cock, raising my other hand to gently rub his balls. The second I touched them, Mr. Stevenson groaned and pushed my head further on his cock. I started to gag as he hit the back of my throat, my nose buried in his dark hair. He stopped pushing my head and I pulled back, gasping, and looked up at him. He opened his mouth, and I was sure he was about to apologize when I giggled and went right back to sucking his cock.
He let me suck him for a couple more minutes before he gently pulled me away. I let his cock fall out of my mouth with a pop, and looked up at him. He was looking at me, and reached down to help me to my feet.
"That's not the first time you've done that," he stated.
I laughed. "Mr. Stevenson, you didn't think I was a virgin, did you?"
He blushed, looking down. I reached up and started lifting the hem of his shirt. He let me take it off him, so we were both standing naked in his daughter's room. "I imagined you were," he finally said. "I've thought about... about this... for a long time."
I was a little shocked at his admission, but I giggled. I hadn't been a virgin for a few years now. "What did you think about, Mr. Stevenson?" I asked, looking at him with the best innocent look I could muster as I stood even closer to him.
He reached out and put his hands on my slim hips, pulling my body close to him. I had started to warm up a bit, but I was still fairly cold from the rain, and his warm skin felt wonderful against me. "I think you can call me Dave now, you know," he said.
I had known Mr. Stevenson for years, but never called him by his first name. So I giggled, let a hand trail down to his cock, and squeezed it gently. "Okay, Dave," I said.
He groaned and leaned down, brushing his lips against mine softly. I let go of his cock and wrapped my hands around his neck and shoulders, pulling him closer to me as we kissed. I could feel his cock pressed against my stomach, hard against me, and I sighed softly. He ground against me a bit, rolling his hips and moving his lips to my neck, burying his head against my shoulder as he just rubbed his cock against me. The thought that he was enjoying it so much was making me even wetter.
"I should take you to my room," he whispered, his voice muffled against my skin.
I shook my head vigorously. "Let's stay in here," I replied, taking a step backwards and pulling him towards Ashley's bed. "Don't you think it'll be fun, Mr. St... I mean, Dave?" I sat down on her bed, craning my head to look up at him. "I think it's so sexy, you fucking me on your daughter's bed. Didn't you say you imagined this?"
He laughed and got on the bed, pushing me on my back and kissing my neck again. "I didn't say what I imagined," he said, as he moved his lips down my neck and against my breasts. "I imagined licking your entire body as you squirmed underneath me. I imagined stripping off that little bikini you always wear when you and Ashley go into the hot tub." His lips were just above my nipple, and each time he talked, they brushed against it. "I imagined fucking you for your first time ever, feeling that tight little virgin hole wrapped around my cock."
I moaned at his words, and gasped as he started to suck my nipple. He fondled my other breast with his other hand, pinching that nipple each time he raked his teeth against the one in his mouth. Each moment of attention he paid to my nipples caused my clit to throb, until I could hardly take it anymore and tried to reach down to rub myself.
He grabbed my hands and pushed them next to me, then started to kiss down my stomach. I trembled in excitement every moment his mouth got nearer to my pussy, until he finally reached it and started to lick the juices that had dripped onto my legs.
"Please, Mr. Stevenson," I gasped, his mouth so close to my clit that I was struggling to grind against him.
"I like hearing you beg," he whispered, "but I told you to call me Dave. Now, what is it you want?"