Soothia: A Pleasure Like No Other

She reached down and started rubbing her clit with her fingers. She closed her eyes and her brow furrowed as she concentrated. I stood frozen and desperate to cum, I started to thrust my cock back into her but she put her hand on my chest and said "No". I was left standing there with my cock inside her warm, wet cunt desperate to cum but unable to achieve release. Then she started to slowly and deliberately move her hips up and down as she continued to rub her clit.

I stood still as her pussy slowly swallowed my cock and then released it, then swallowed it again, over and over. It was enough stimulation to keep me on the edge of orgasm but not enough to cum. It felt incredible and deeply frustrating at the same time.

She increased the pace of her fingers on her clit but maintained the slow and methodical movement of her hips. My cock felt like a loaded gun which was ready to go off at any moment but unable to do so. Her pussy was getting wetter and warmer as she neared orgasm but she still moved up and down with the same slow pace.

Suddenly she let out strained moan and told me to fuck her hard. I didn't need any encouragement and immediately started to pound her pussy again. She came hard and pushed her hips down so that I continued to rub against her clit as I fucked her. As her orgasm start to fade away I came inside her, thrusting desperately as my cock released the built up pressure and frustration inside her.

I stayed inside Emma for a minute or so while we recovered and got our breath back. Then I stood up, pulled my trousers up and put my dick away. I stood awkwardly until she told me to get out so she could clean herself up.

I left the bathroom and went to find my friends on the dancefloor. We carried on dancing until the music stopped and we noticed that light was starting to come through the windows. We could see the sun rising on the horizon out at sea and it was beautiful.

With the music gone and the sun creeping through the windows the spell was broken and people started to leave the boat. We started to follow the zombie like crowds off the boat on to the marina pier when Claire, one of the girls in our group, suddenly realised Emma wasn't with us.

"We can't leave without her" Claire said with a worried look.

"She's probably already left with some guy" said Matt with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Claire looked annoyed "She wouldn't do that, we all made a vow not to leave anywhere unless we were together. Emma wouldn't have left without us".

"Can't you just call her cell phone and ask where she is?" I said.

Claire took out her phone and called Emma. It rang off to voicemail, she tried two more times but there was no answer.

I could see she wasn't going to give in until we had found Emma so I told everyone to split up and look for her. I said I would take the middle floor and walked down the steps into the luxury cabin area.

Most of the cabins were locked but I saw a few which were open. I checked inside but couldn't find Emma in any of them. I was just about to leave when I heard noises coming from the end of the corridor. I walked towards the noises and found myself at the door of my dad's master cabin.

I definitely didn't want to disturb him but I could here the unmistakable sound of a girl crying in his room.

I stood at the door wandering whether I should investigate or not until I decided to knock gently on the door. Nobody answered and I received no reply so I edged the door open a fraction and poked my head around the corner to see in. The scene that greeted me has etched itself into my memory.

My dad was lying naked on his king size bed, and on top of him, bouncing her pussy up and down on his cock, was Emma. I couldn't do anything but stare. The image was grotesque. My dad's fat belly wobbled as she bounced up and down and his thick fingers gripped her hips and pulled her down onto his cock. I pulled my head out of the room and stood in shock for a moment.

I had obviously had suspicions that my dad was unfaithful to my mom but it was different altogether to witness it first hand - especially with a girl less than half his age. And even worse (although he wasn't to know), he was fucking the same pussy that I had cum inside only a few hours earlier.

I walked around in a shocked daze until I bumped into Claire.

"Any luck?" she asked.

I looked at her in confusion, still trying to process what I had seen.

"Richard, are you ok?" Claire asked.

I nodded and mumbled that Emma was fine and we could go. Claire wanted to know how I knew but I just told her that I had seen her with someone.

I was desperate to leave but Claire was resolute in her vow not to leave unless all the girls were together. So we all sat up on the deck and waited. The comedown and tiredness were starting to wash over us and the morning light felt cold and exposing.

After 20 minutes Emma appeared from below deck with an awkward smile on her face.

"Where have you been you dirty bitch?" Claire yelled at her with a laugh.

Emma had the decency to look embarrassed and avoided looking at me. "Let's just go shall we" was all Emma said.

We became a really close group of friends and spent the rest of the summer partying and hanging out together.

Fran became a permanent fixture by my father's side. She always gave me a big smile when we saw each other but we didn't have any more contact that summer.

But all good thing must come to an end and that period of my life ended one day when I returned home, hungover and coming down hard. I wanted the comfort of my mother and so I looked all over the house and grounds for her. I found her lying on her bed and her appearance made my heart miss a beat.

My mother had been looking increasingly pale and alarmingly gaunt but always insisted that she was fine. She was never one to make a fuss and I hadn't noticed as she withdrew even further from the world and confined herself to her room. But seeing her lying on the bed looking like a skeleton that someone had stretched skin over bought home the realisation that something was very wrong.

I called me father but he didn't answer. I told my mother that I was going to call a doctor but she begged me not to. I asked her what was going on and she just said she was fine, probably flu of something but she would be well again soon enough.

Half an hour later my cell phone rang and I say my father's name pop up on the screen. I answered urgently and said "Dad, you've got to come home - something is wrong with mom, she isn't well"

But the voice that responded wasn't my father, it was a woman's voice and I immediately recognised the soft, caring voice as Fran's. "It isn't your father Richard, it's Fran".

It was the first time that we had spoken since the boat party earlier in the summer but if she felt any awkwardness she certainly did sound it.

Normally I would have felt excited to speak to Fran as I had thought about her frequently but in this instance I was desperate to speak to my father.

"Hi Fran, is my father there?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady and friendly.

"No, unfortunately he is busy at the moment, can I help with anything or take a message?" she asked.

"Please can you tell him its urgent and to call me back as soon as he can?" I replied.

"What's wrong Richard?" Fran asked sounding concerned.

I didn't want her to know about my mother so I just said "I'm ok but I just need to speak to my father as soon as possible - can you pass that message on?"

"Of course, please let me know if..." Fran started to say but I felt a desperate need to get off the phone so I cut through her with "Thank you Fran, I've got to go, bye". and hung up the phone.

I stayed with my mother, reading to her until late in the evening. Seeing her deterioration up close mad my heart beat fast with anxiety. She struggled to lift a glass of water to drink from, her thin arms shook as she held the glass to her mouth.

My father didn't call back that evening, I tried him a few more times but he didn't answer.

He did eventually call back the next morning and I told him about mother. He sounded concerned and said he would be over soon. He arrived about an hour later in his new yellow Lamborghini. I heard his car roaring up the driveway to the house and went out to meet him.

I was disappointed to see Fran sat in the passenger seat of the car, I didn't want her to see my mother like this. My father went straight up to my mother's room and stayed up there for a few hours.

Fran and I sat in the lounge together, it felt awkward and I stumbled awkwardly through her attempts to make conversation. I was trying to hold things together and put on a brave face but my insides were turning with worry for my mother.

Fran seemed to be a naturally caring person and she fussed over me, getting me drinks, asking if I wanted food, and asking how I was feeling. I sat on the couch and she sat on the chair opposite me. I noticed again how petite she was as she sat in the chair, both her legs curled up so they didn't dangle over the edge of the chair.

I maintained the air of calm and normality until she walked over to me and put her hand on my back. I was sitting down and leaning forward and my head was level with her chest. She wrapped her arms around my head and pulled it into her chest, and then put her cheek against the top of my head. The gesture was unusually invasive but the love and affection that it communicated was overwhelming, so much so that I felt hot tears stinging my eyes.

I cried silently for a few minutes as she cradled my head. I hoped she didn't realise I was crying, but the odd sniff and shudder probably gave it away. Either way, she didn't say a word and I found the odd embrace deeply comforting in a way that I hadn't ever experienced.

I noticed her intoxicating smell too, a mixture of body lotion and perfume. It brought back the memories of that night at the boat party. And because my mind is a trash can, I suddenly became aware that she wasn't wearing a bra and her full, firm breasts were pressed up against my cheek. What was worse (or better) was I could feel her nipple against my mouth under her vest and I longed to take it in my mouth and suck it.

But a suddenly as it had started, the affection ended. She let my head go and walked away towards the kitchen leaving me fighting the confused feelings of anxiety and despair together with a rock hard erection.

My dad eventually came back downstairs looking grave. He told me he didn't understand what was wrong but would get the best doctors money could buy. He also apologised for not being around more and promised to spend a lot more time at home.

My dad was as good as his word. Two days later a well dressed doctor arrived in a brand new Porsche and spent the day with my mother running tests. My dad continued to go to work but spent every evening and night at home. This would have been great if it wasn't for the fact that Fran seemed to have moved in too. She moved all her things in to one of the spare rooms and was just present whenever my father was home. No discussion, no announcement, one minute it was just me and my mother at home, the next it was me, my mother, my father and Fran.

A week later the doctor sat my father and I down to go over the test results. He explained that my mother was suffering from extreme malnutrition caused by acute anorexia. I had no knowledge or experience of anorexia and neither did my father so as the doctor explained what it was I felt the weight lifting from my shoulders and a wave of relief washed over me. If you are ill because you don't eat enough food then just eat more food - what a simple solution.

Almost as soon as the doctor shared his diagnosis I could see my father losing interest in the whole situation. We had prepared for some kind of dramatic diagnosis, cancer or a terrible genetic affliction, but what he was describing was a huge relief.

The doctor tried to impress upon us the seriousness of the illness, people died of anorexia he said, sufferers need a lot of support to recover etc. But in my head the diagnosis was as good as the cure - silly mom, she obviously didn't realise that she hadn't been eating properly, now she would eat more and everything would be ok.

Our misunderstanding of the condition meant that we reacted in the worst way possible. My dad hired a dietician and a personal assistant for my mother and as far as he was concerned that was it, just a short wait until she recovered and then life would return to normal again.

I spent most evenings in my mother's room talking to her or reading. I tried to talk to her about the diagnosis of anorexia but she waved it away like an annoying fly. She told me that doctors had to put labels on things, that was their job. She knew she had to eat better and she would do it on her own.

But she still spoke about food in terms of dieting and that should have highlighted that the problem was not solved.

We reached a strange limbo, the dietician and personal trainer managed to ensure my mother ate enough food to live, but she refused to eat enough to get healthy again.

For my part, life became a weird kind of normal. Fran effectively lived with us now, but came and went with my father.

There was no more sympathy forthcoming from my father who acted as if the anorexia was just another one of my mother's amusing little quirks. I didn't really pay enough attention to her either to be honest. My mother had always seemed to be on a path towards ever increasing solitude and so, as the weeks went by, her confinement to her bedroom just became the new normal.

I was concerned enough about my mother though that I delayed going off to college by a year. I had gained a place at Columbia College to study Chemistry and Biomedical Science. They were understanding and deferred my attendance to the following year.

Having Fran around the house was an emotional rollercoaster. Every act of kindness and affection she showed me gave me a warm glow deep inside. But other times she and my father would disappear for days and have no communication at all.

I didn't understand what the relationship was between her and my father. She was his shadow and organised every aspect of his life like an attentive PA would. But she also lived with us and went out to every social occasion with him. He bought her an expensive new car for her 30th birthday and she gave him a hug and a long kiss on the lips, but Fran was affectionate with everyone so even that wasn't conclusive.

As spring came round and I started to prepare to leave for college, Fran's friend Claudia started turning up at our house. They would drink coffee in the kitchen and gossip, or drink a few bottles of wine together and Claudia would pass out on the couch.

I tried to be friendly, even drinking wine with them one evening but Claudia made it very clear that I wasn't welcome. She didn't address a single question to me all evening, and if I asked her anything she would give a one word answer without even turning to look at me.

Fran seemed oblivious to the way Claudia was acting towards me and just carried on as normal.

Sometimes, Claudia didn't even have to say anything at all. She had the aura of the cool and effortlessly popular girl at school and could make me feel like shit with a simple look in my direction.

After a few weeks of coming over to our house, her attitude towards me took a turn for the worse, from nasty but harmless comments, to full on bullying. She made sure not to overstep the mark when Fran or my father were around, but if we were ever left alone she would turn nasty and spiteful, warning me that she saw the way I looked at Fran, and calling me a pathetic pervert for fawning over her. She told me it was creepy and Fran agreed with her but was too polite to say anything to me.

Claudia smoked like a chimney and was never without a cigarette in her hand. This made the whole house smell of smoke and every surface seemed to have an ashtray on it ready for her.

To the outside world, Claudia appeared to be a model member of the community. She was on all the local committees and carried out charity work in her spare time.

But the perfect façade hid a nasty, bitter character and a seething hatred of men. She had been divorced three times and was currently on husband number four. There didn't seem to be much chance of the fourth lasting too long judging by the way I heard her talk to him when he called her cell phone. In fact, she seemed to treat all men like shit, with only one exception - her perfect some Jon.

Jon was one of the most popular kids at school. I certainly wasn't unpopular in any way but Jon had been the kid at school that defined cool and nonchalant popularity. To Claudia, popularity and social status were everything and she made it clear that she was very proud of her son. She also made it clear what she thought of me by making snide comments and looking at me like I was shit on her shoe.

One particularly painful occasion happened when I made the mistake of walking in to the kitchen with just a towel wrapped round me on my way to take a shower. I had been working out a lot at the gym and was looking for a chance to show off to Fran.

I walked into the kitchen confidently, thinking Fran was alone, and got glass o water from the sink. As I stood at the sink I heard Claudia's voice behind me say "Aren't you going to say hello to us?".

I turned around to see Claudia with a nasty smirk on her face. What was worse was that she was wearing an extremely tight and revealing red dress which was barely able to contain her huge breasts. Normally, Claudia would have just made a nasty joke at my expense and then I would be free to leave, but on this occasion for some reason she decided she wanted to have a proper conversation.

She asked me if I was looking forward to college and I gave a short answer and tried to leave, but she carried on the conversation which forced me to stay. I couldn't help looking at her tits and then started to feel the inevitable stirring in my cock as the blood flowed into it. I looked up at the ceiling and tried to think about something else but Claudia asked me why I wasn't looking at her and asked if I was feeling ok.

She had never shown any concern for my welfare before so I knew it wasn't sincere. She told me to come and stand next to her so she could feel my forehead for a temperature. I told her I was fine and tried to walk away back to my room. But as I walked passed her she reached quickly for my towel and pulled on it with surprising strength.

Luckily I was on guard so I managed to stop her from pulling the towel away completely, but that meant that I had to follow my towel towards her as she pulled. So that left me standing in front on Claudia in my towel with a semi erect cock threatening to show itself. She held a hand threateningly on the towel but Fran intervened and told her to stop being silly and let me go.

A nasty smile appeared on Claudia's lips and she laughed as if it was all just a fun game. Then she uncrossed her legs and adjusted her short dress so that I could see her black, lace panties. Then she made an exaggerated effort to adjust her cleavage, making her boobs jiggle with every movement. The angle of the breakfast counter meant that Fran couldn't see these moves by Claudia, and the effect on me was immediate.

The blood surged into my cock and I felt it rising to attention against my will. I tried to act normal and hoped that Claudia wouldn't notice but it seemed to be her plan all along.

"What's that?" she shouted in disgusted, "Have you got an erection?"

I felt my cheeks go red and tried to walk off but she held my towel firmly.

I was too embarrassed to look at Fran who just told Claudia to stop being silly.