Rite of Passage

Bridget fought against her overwhelming urge to keep this creep far away from her daughter.

"Welcome, welcome," she said through almost clenched teeth. This was for her daughter's sake. This was for her daughter's sake. She kept on repeating the words in her head.

"It's nice to see you made it. At just the right time, too, and you brought..." her gaze shifted down to what he was holding. A square bottle with a golden liquid inside, perhaps whiskey? A bold choice. "...huh, alright. Come on in," she offered as she opened the door a little further and allowed their guest inside.

Gwen glimpsed back and forth between the stairway - her last opportunity to change outfits - and the nearby hallway. Alas, before she managed to make a decision, Shawn approached her already.

"Hey!" she said sharply. "I uhmm..." she trailed off with an insecure tone.

"Come on you two," Bridget said. "At least get comfortable in the living room first, and don't mind me. The couch is your favorite spot after all, no? You guys can continue right where you left off yesterday." She took the bottle of whiskey out of their neighbor's hands, and went to the kitchen to retrieve a couple glasses. It would be silly to let the bottle catch dust on some shelf.

It was a little early to start drinking, "but why not?" she thought.

She stopped in her tracks when she returned to the living room, and stared at their neighbor being overtly affectionate right out of the gate. This guy once again had his arm wrapped around Gwen. His hand brushed against the sports bra that was barely managing to hold onto his object of obsession. If he was this interested in her already, Bridget wondered, then how would he react if he saw those breasts free and bare?

She dismissed the thought, approached the couple, and placed three small whiskey glasses onto the coffee table. Then, she opened the bottle of whiskey and poured the drinks. It was a little bit of a gamble, considering she knew that Gwen never drank alcohol. True, she was bound to be a lightweight. But it was the perfect tool to ease the atmosphere a little, and get both of them to be more honest with their true selves. If anything went wrong, she reassured herself, she could just call the police. There was no need to worry.

"Alright, sorry for the delay..." she said as she sat down on the other side of her daughter. Gwen was practically sandwiched with her mother on one side, and their neighbor on the other. "So, really, don't mind me." Bridget reached for one of the glasses, and tentatively gave the whiskey a try.

Shawn began to feel a little more at ease. At first, he suspected that his secret might have been discovered. But, if this woman felt relaxed enough to start drinking in his presence, then surely, she had to be either clueless, or she accepted his past. Either way, he didn't have to hold back anymore.

Since it seemed like he wasn't in any trouble, he reached for the two other glasses, and handed one to Gwen. If she got drunk enough, he figured, then he might even be able to full-on grope her breasts. She was so supple and young. Just the right age. He couldn't wait to find out if her tits were as perky as he imagined. After years of fantasizing about a scenario like this, he could scarcely believe that it might actually be happening now.

"Well, thanks, you know, for having me," he said. "It's a really nice place you got here. Lots of furniture I usually don't see anywhere. And there's a piano over there. I kept wondering, do you play the piano, ma'am?"

Bridget shook her head and then pointed at her daughter.

"I don't, but she does! She used to get lessons when she was a kid," the mother said.

"Oh, yeah! That's true," Gwen confirmed. "It was lots of fun, too. It's easier than it looks, but, I guess it's also harder than it looks!" She was fumbling around with her hands to try and mimic the motions of playing a piano, but came far too close to spilling the glass of whiskey she was still holding onto.

She quickly gulped the drink down in one go. This, in turn, caused her to cough violently. She fought right through it, since she was excited to continue her explanation. "It's... it's weird cause... it was something I used to be really passionate about." Her voice was a little raspy, and she could feel the strong alcohol burn her throat.

She put her glass down as she continued, and Shawn took the initiative to refill it.

"You know, the hard part... is that you have to learn all the notes for each melody, but also, you gotta play with both hands... both! There's just... it took super much concentration, and practice. Really, that's probably why I stopped, I just couldn't keep up with it anymore, not with all the schoolwork I used to have back then, too."

The bubbly teen sighed and lowered her shoulders in defeat.

"But, I mean, at least now I have plenty of time again, so that's cool."

Gwen absent-mindedly reached for the refilled glass, and slowly drank that one too. It didn't occur to her until a second later that the whiskey was nothing like a glass of soda. She coughed, and coughed, and immediately regretted her decision once again. She was learning the hard way that liquor was difficult to get used to.

"Yeah, that is cool," Shawn chimed in. "It's great to have things you're passionate about, you know, something that's meaningful to you." Since the girl's mother didn't seem to stop any of his advances, he dared to be a little bolder with his actions.

His hand, which had only grazed the side of Gwen's covered breast so far, moved to shamelessly grab a good handful of the soft mound. It elicited a startled gasp out of the teen, though she didn't dare to make a fuss.

"I think that makes you even more attractive, I'm sure some guy is going to be really lucky to have you one day," he said as he tentatively began to squeeze her tit. Her sports bra just fueled the kick he was getting out of this. He stared right down at her cleavage, and watched her breasts squishing together even more. It was beautiful.

If it weren't for the alcohol to dull her senses, she probably would have squealed upon feelings his fingers dig into her udders so roughly.

Bridget quietly watched on from the sidelines. The situation made her a little nervous. She could feel her heart beating faster, but this was still within her expectations. She knew that Gwen would need a bit of a push before she would rise up to the challenge and defend herself. She simply hadn't reached that point just yet.

Still. She was silently watching as a sexual predator took advantage of her daughter. It felt like something inside of her was breaking while she attempted to stay quiet. This was far more of a thrill than what she bargained for.

While he kept one hand right where it was, his other went to grab the glass of whiskey so that he could continue drinking. He was gradually getting more bold, and confident. Everything was set into motion and now it was just a matter of time.

"It's nice and cozy to get to know each other like this. When I first arrived here, hell, I didn't know I would be making new friends so quickly," he said. "This is nice. I appreciate a family that welcomes a new neighbor so readily. I think we will get along great."

It was quite the sight to see for the nervous mother. This guy was completely in his element. With one hand he was holding a glass of whiskey, while his other was arrogantly toying with her daughter's breast.

"Yeah. You are more than welcome," the agitated mother said in a sarcastic tone. Her voice trembled ever so slightly.

It was a bit of a surprise to see just how timid and insecure her daughter really was. Maybe a bit more alcohol would help Gwen to loosen up and speak her mind. She clearly needed a push, or some motivation... something, anything. This couldn't be allowed to go on for much longer.

"Here, let me help you," Bridget offered as the reached for the partially empty bottle of whiskey, and once again refilled all three of their glasses. It was in that moment, when she leaned over the coffee table, that she noticed the bulge that was straining against the front of the guy's sweatpants.

She almost choked at the sight, and only barely managed to play it off. This lecherous pervert was getting aroused... by copping a feel of her daughter's tits? That was disgusting. It was shameless. It was also... somehow, arousing?

She stole another glance at the tent he was pitching. It was enormous, it was seriously distracting. And for the first time, she allowed her fantasy to go wild. She imagined her daughter touching and caressing that big slab of meat. Those small hands would probably not even fit around a girth of that size. Then again, she couldn't really judge its size just by seeing a bulge.

Bridget felt a pinch of guilt after getting back into her seat. But... the thought remained. She had never looked at her daughter in a sexual way. Until now. Which seemed like a particularly ironic timing, given that her oh-so-precious daughter was increasingly drunk, and in the arms of a sexual deviant.

As she contemplated what was going on, she also wasn't sure about her own judgment anymore, considering she was starting to feel tipsy herself.

Bridget reclined fully into her cushioned chair, and watched the two talk and interact. Every now and then, she quietly sipped more of her drink. Their words didn't even register to her anymore, she was caught in the moment.

All she could think about, were all those possibilities of what may happen between these two. The best part was that regardless of what may happen, practically all of it would be exciting in one way or another. She couldn't even tell if she loved or hated the idea - her emotions were all over the place.

Another glance at the sizable bulge gave her another reason to worry. If he was truly as gifted as she imagined, how would a tool of that size even fit inside a girl? Let alone someone as petite as Gwen. Their anatomy quite literally couldn't match. He was a big bulky guy, and she was a nearly underweight teenager. They were completely mismatched. There was no way a cock of that size could fit inside her poor daughter.

She looked at Shawn, who seemed to barely listen to Gwen's nonstop blur of words. She was always a little incoherent with her fast way of talking, but the whiskey was now affecting her speech as well. She was slurring her words and wobbling left and right as she talked about the things she was passionate about.

It didn't matter, though. The guy wasn't listening to her. He was freely ogling her cleavage. This was wrong. It was time for him to get kicked out of the house, before things could escalate further. Gwen needed to step up to the challenge.

It was time for her fledgling to get out of the nest, and to spread her wings.

"Gwen?" she interrupted their chat. "Gwen, darling, why don't you give our guest a little tour of the house, mmh? You could show him your room, too. Because then I would have a chance to take care of the laundry while you two are busy." It was nothing but a bad excuse, but at least this way, she would be giving their neighbor the chance to make a move. Which in turn meant that Gwen would have her chance to fight back.

"Hm? Oh..." the teenager mumbled. She clearly wasn't sober anymore. Her cheeks had a faint blush, and she struggled to sit upright. "I guess, yeah, shu-sure!"

It almost seemed too easy.

Bridget watched her daughter stand up, take Shawn's hand, and together they maneuvered their way upstairs and out of sight. The last thing the mother could see, was the neighbor's gaze being completely fixated on Gwen's shapely bubble butt. Those yoga pants made that easy. It didn't cease to amaze her just how shameless their neighbor acted.

Now it was just a matter of time. Bridget could feel her heart beating faster. This was the thrill she had sought so desperately! It was impossible to tell what may happen. Maybe her daughter would find the courage to call him out for his lecherous behavior, and kick him out. Perhaps she would play along with his advances, and give him the opportunity to explore her body more freely. There was even a chance they would start kissing, and make out, without a shred of shame or decency.

Bridget was on the edge of her seat, and fidgeted with her whiskey glass. She didn't think that the situation would actually escalate to this point, and now, she wasn't sure what to do while waiting. The seconds felt like minutes, or perhaps minutes felt like seconds? It was eating away at her that she didn't know what was happening upstairs.

She also didn't know anymore what she wanted to happen. He was a predator, and as a mother, it was her responsibility to get rid of him... but on the other hand, this was a uniquely delicate situation.

It was a rousing thought to imagine them doing something indecent... but didn't she also want her daughter to grow up? This had been the perfect setup to make that change. It was the sole reason for why she prepared all of this in the first place. Her daughter was supposed to become a responsible adult.

Bridget bounced back and forth between her options.

She sighed, groaned, contemplated, and fidgeted some more.

"No, it's a bad idea," she quietly muttered to herself. There had to be a better way to do this. In some sort of controlled environment. Gwen was her only daughter, so she couldn't just jeopardize the girl's entire future for a gamble such as this.

Bridget leaned forward, and placed her whiskey glass back on the table. As she did, she also noticed that Gwen had, once again, spilled a bit of her drink. There was no doubt left in her mind, despite her daughter's age, the girl had plenty of maturing left to do before she could be trusted with something like this.

The determined mother pushed herself off the chair, and with tender steps, approached the stairs and made her way upwards to Gwen's bedroom. Before she even got close to the room, she could hear her daughter's drunken giggling coming in infrequent bursts. After a few more timid steps forward, she regretfully noticed that her daughter's bedroom door was closed. This wasn't part of her plan, not at all...

Still, she refused to admit defeat just yet. She listened closely to try and figure out what they were up to.

There were a couple barely audible whispers.

"Don't worry", "It's okay", "Good girl", were repeated over and over again, and in between, the sounds of kissing could be heard. A deliberate wet smooching.

Bridget could feel a tingle of panic. She really wanted to know what was happening inside her daughter's bedroom.

It didn't cross her mind until a few seconds later that she could take a peek through the keyhole. It wouldn't be much. Barely a glimpse. But, at least she would have a vague idea of how far things had progressed already. She felt like an idiot in her own house, as she reluctantly lowered herself onto her knees, leaned against the doorframe, and inched her eye towards the tiny hole.

Her vision was adjusting only slowly, but she could see something. It was blurry at first, but as she looked closer, she saw... multiple colors... a shirt, pants... it was a pile of clothes? In the middle of the room, without anything else in sight.

She readjusted her angle a little, and her gaze moved across the colorful carpet to the side where she knew her daughter's bed to be. She found its wooden frame, then the black mattress, and the pink blanket that rested on top.

Bridget's eyes opened wide.

They were on the bed together, and she was pretty sure that Shawn was lying on his back. There was a slow and clumsy up and down motion, and as her vision focused on it, she could make out her daughter's head was the thing that bobbed up and down with that awkward rhythm. It continued to resonate with an obscene smooching sound each time.

That was when Bridget realized that it wasn't a kiss at all. Gwen was crouching and straddling one of his legs, while her head was... undoubtedly close to his crotch.

The creep had taken full advantage of the drunk teen. She was in the midst of giving the first blowjob of her life.

Bridget couldn't believe her daughter would volunteer for such a thing, it couldn't be. But then she noticed the hand that was on the back of Gwen's head and guiding her - and keeping her in place. She had no choice but to fellate him.

The reckless creep must have intentionally chosen this particular position for them as well. Gwen was naked. Those breasts that he stared at earlier? Now he was ogling them without anything in the way. They were lightly swaying in tune to her motions, without a sports bra to limit their movement. And to top it off, he was enjoying the warmth of her mouth at the same time, and the flicking of her little tongue.

Bridget continued to observe them.

Since she didn't know just how long she sat downstairs, she also wondered if he had already released a serving of his nut-butter down her daughter's throat. It wasn't an impossibility. It was a gross and disgusting thought to imagine her daughter suffering through such an experience. But somehow, at least a little bit, the thought also made her heart flutter. There was a chance that her precious daughter had gotten a first taste of the salty creaminess provided by real cum.

The entire house was silent, except for the sounds her daughter's tongue and saliva were producing. What she lacked in skill, she unintentionally made up for by allowing her head to be guided by his hand. He was directing her as he desired. Like the conductor of an orchestra, he was setting the tempo, managing the dynamic, and she was like an instrument that he played with. An instrument he owned.

There was a brief moment, when Gwen pulled her head back, which allowed the neighbor's cock to come into view. Bridget could see the monstrosity with her own eyes for the first time, without any sweatpants to block the view. She expected it to be large, but it far exceeded her expectations. It was thick. The girth easily matched her wrist, and it was bigger than anything she had experimented with in her past.

She struggled to believe that this was going to be her daughter's first experience with a dick. The concerned mother would never in her life dare to insert something of that size into her own body. So how was her daughter going to handle it? She couldn't, there was no way. Her little flower would get completely ruined...

More than that, it suddenly occurred to her that Gwen was a virgin. She had never even kissed a boy until today. Her womanhood was pure, pristine, completely untouched. There was no way they could be compatible. That thing was intimidating to look at even for her, so she couldn't even begin to imagine what her daughter's first impression might be. It didn't help that her sheltered nature kept her from learning any of this at a normal pace, one step at a time.

It might just explain the girl's actions, too. She was drunk. She was naïve. Perhaps she followed along with his ridiculous and far too fast-paced advances, just because she was that insecure about herself? Maybe the teenager thought this was her one and only chance of getting a boyfriend.

At this rate, Gwen was about to have her first sexual intercourse, before she had her first kiss. Her lower lips were going to receive all the attention... while her mouth was only good for a steamy moment of foreplay.

"No, no," Bridget mumbled. "Darling, honey... this is too much already," she whispered helplessly as she stared through the keyhole. She cursed this situation that she had brought upon herself. She was gambling with her daughter's future, and at this rate, it didn't seem to go in Gwen's favor.

The blonde teen meanwhile retreated with a wet slurp, and pushed strands of her long mane out of her limited view. Her breathing came quick. Maybe she was starved for fresh air, or maybe she was just as aroused as her partner. It was hard to tell.