Stalker

I was eighteen, going on nineteen, and it was time for me to enter adult life. In other words I was going to get laid, and soon.

My name's Melissa. I've got auburn hair with hazel eyes, bordering on green, depending on the weather. I'm very nicely stacked, all the boys admit it and try to get their hands on the goodies but I always fight them off. I'd been that rarity, a cheerleader who was also a virgin. I was no longer a cheerleader but the virgin bit remained, just for not very much longer.

I'd sort of run a ruler over the various boys in the neighbourhood, seeing how they measured up. My initial choice was Scott and after checking out the competition my final choice was also Scott. I just had to find a subtle way to let him know.

My initial problem was going to be getting between him and Amanda. He'd been going out with Amanda for a while and everyone knew it was only because she put out. I only have to get a single date with Scott for him to realise I'm superior to Amanda and he'll dump her for me. It's been rumoured that Scott won't take no for an answer when he's dating a girl but that's fine. That's what I want.

It was time to start my campaign.

- - -

"Dad, I have a girl problem," Scott told his father. "Can you give me some advice on how to handle it?"

"You're having problem with a girl? Seems hard to imagine. You used to have to beat them off with a stick. Anyway, I thought you were pretty tight with Amanda. Haven't been arguing with her, have you?"

"No, she's not the problem. Melissa's the problem."

George thought for a moment, trying to place which of the neighbourhood girls was Melissa.

"Isn't she that redhead that used to be a cheerleader? Quite a lovely young lady. You haven't dated her have you? Amanda wouldn't like it."

"Ha! Amanda would have my testicles bronzed and dangling from her bed if she thought I was cheating on her," said Scott with a grin. "No, the problem is that I haven't dated Melissa, and now she's stalking me. It's getting a little unnerving and it's irritating Amanda. If something isn't done about it Amanda is likely to snatch Melissa bald. What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"I take it you don't want to dally with Melissa on the quiet if you could sneak it past Amanda?"

"No. She's a pain and would probably be very high maintenance. I'm quite happy with Amanda and just want Melissa to push off."

"Then your best bet is to leave the matter in my hands. I'll have a chat with Melissa and after that she'll forget all about you. Um, correct me if I'm wrong but isn't that Melissa walking past right now?"

Scott looked out the window and sighed.

"Yes. That's her. If I was silly enough to go for a walk she'd start following me. She's a menace."

"Well you know where she is right now. What say you hop in your car and leave, heading in a different direction? She's bound to come wandering back and I'll take the chance to talk to her."

- - -

Wouldn't you just know it? I'd only just passed Scott's place when he drove out and turned the other direction. If I'd only been a few moments later I'd have been outside his house when he came out and he'd have had to talk to me. The whole thing was getting irritating. Couldn't he see how much better I'd be for him than Amanda? I just might have to mark down Scott's suitability based on the fact that he seemed to be a bit thick in a social situation. Still, I'd give it a couple more weeks.

I turned around and headed back home, irritated that I'd be passing Scott's place when I knew he wasn't there.

"Melissa."

I was just passing Scott's place when someone called out to me. Turning to see who it was I saw Mr Abbott leaning against the side of the house and looking incredibly lazy. The busiest parts of him were his eyes that were looking me over quite intensively. The way they lingered on my breasts and legs told me that he was finding me attractive, and so he should. I'd dressed to tempt, wearing a short skirt that showed off my long shapely legs and a tight crop-top that emphasised my bosom. The sort of outfit that would cause me to freeze to death on a cold day but in the current conditions very suitable without appearing trampy.

"Mr Abbott?" I said, a query in my voice. I was curious as his call hadn't been a greeting so much as a summoning.

"Could I see you for a minute?" he asked, and when I shrugged and headed in his direction he turned and went inside, which I thought a little rude. I followed him in and found myself in his front room, with him standing there and looking me over again. I naturally preened a little as I enjoy it when men look at me. Besides, if Mr Abbott found me appealing then Scott must as well. Like father, like son, as they say.

Mr Abbott just kept on looking at me, not speaking, and I was starting to wonder what was going on.

"Um, you wanted to speak to me?" I prompted.

"Yes, I did. I was wondering why a lovely young lady, such as yourself, who probably has a string of beaus chasing after her, is wasting her time stalking Scott, who is patently enamoured to another. Why is she doing this? I thought I'd ask you."

Stalking, I thought indignantly. I was doing no such thing. I was just making sure that Scott knew that I was about. Once that properly registered he'd drop that cow, Amanda, and I'd be in like Flynn.

"Stalking? Stalking!" I yelled. "What on earth are you talking about? I'm doing no such thing."

"No? Well you're doing a pretty good imitation of it and it's starting to annoy both Scott and Amanda. It has been suggested that Amanda might forget that she's a lady and, ah, how did she phrase it? Ah, yes. 'Pull out your long blonde hair by their dirty black roots.' That surprised me because I didn't think that you dyed your hair."

"I don't. This is my natural colour and she knows it." I was furious. How dare she?

"Fair enough but if you don't want to be snatched bald you might like to curtail the stalking."

"I am not stalking Scott," I said through gritted teeth, "and if Amanda wants to try anything I can handle her."

"Maybe you can and maybe you can't but Scott certainly couldn't handle trying to separate the pair of you if you did get into a brawl. In fairness to both Scott and Amanda I decided to put the kibosh on whatever you're planning before someone gets hurt."

"The what?"

"It means I'll stop whatever your nasty little scheme is."

"I don't have a nasty little scheme and even if I did have there's nothing you can do about it. It's none of your business and you're not the boss of me anyway."

"If it impacts Scott that makes it my business. Ah, what makes you think I'm not the boss off you?"

Was he kidding? He had absolutely no authority over me in any way whatsoever. I gave him a big cheesy grin.

"I don't have to do a damn thing you say and there's nothing you can do about it," I pointed out, and I couldn't help putting a little bit of a snigger in my voice. Really, the nerve of the man, trying to dictate what I could or couldn't do.

"Is that what you think?"

"That's what I know," I said confidently.

"You're not afraid of any repercussions?"

"Nope. Bring it on."

OK. Maybe that bring it on was a bit much. A direct challenge, as it were. That rotten man just reached out and grabbed my arm and then plopped down onto the couch, pulling me with him. The big difference was that he landed on the couch and I landed face down across his lap.

I barely had time to yell, "What the hell?" when he pushed up my skirt and his hand came down on my bottom -- hard.

"Hey, stop that," I yelled. "How dare you? You can't do that."

"What? This?" he asked, laughing at the same time, his hand coming down to spank me again.

"Yes, that," I snapped. "You can't spank me like that. You just can't."

"And would that be because you're all grown up and a lady?"

"Yes!" I snapped, not realising I was making another mistake.

"So I should treat you as an adult? Easily fixed," he said in this silky voice.

For a split second I thought he was going to stop. More fool me. What he did was grab my panties and peel them down and now I was lying across his lap with my bare bottom shining in the light. If that wasn't bad enough his hand came down again, delivering another spank.

"Don't worry," he said. "This won't take long. Actually, it might feel a long while from your point of view but it will really be over quite fast. It's just that I think you'll get the message a bit better if it's accompanied by some negative reinforcement."

His hand came down again and it was worse this time because instead of bouncing his hand off my bottom it stayed there and caressed my bottom, using bottom as a very loose definition of where he caressed me.

"You stop that," I gasped.

"Which? This part, or this." His hand landed again and caressed again.

"That," I yelled when his hand slipped between my legs and he had the audacity to cup my vulva.

"Right," he said, sounding thoughtful. "The spanking is okay but not the petting. Got it."

"No," I wailed as his hand came down and bounced. "That's not what I meant. Why were you touching me like that anyway?"

"It's an old psychological ploy," he said. "Apparently negative reinforcement is emphasised if a bit of positive reinforcement goes with it. Thus the spank, followed by the massage."

He demonstrated, his hand coming down firmly on my bottom and then rubbing firmly across my pussy, and I felt that last bit a lot more intensely that I did the first.

His hand would come down and then massage me intimately and it kept on happening. I don't care what he said about it not taking long -- it seemed to take ages to me. I was prepared to swear that my bottom would be red and glowing by the time he was finished. Offsetting that was the peculiar way I was feeling where my groin was concerned.

I was both relieved and surprised when Mr Abbott suddenly swung me back onto my feet. I was even more surprised when he flicked open the catch on my skirt and helped it slither down to the floor.

"What are you doing?" I yelped, stunned, my hands hastily moving away from where they'd been clutching at my bottom to the front, trying to hide myself behind them.

"Just taking care of you," he said, brushing my hands out of his way and slipping his hand between my legs, starting to rub me once more. "It's obvious to me that I've got you somewhat aroused. That being so it's incumbent upon me to attend to that."

I gave him a 'what the hell are you talking about' look. He surely didn't mean what that sounded like. He stood up and pushed his trousers down and I could now see exactly what he meant.

"What? How dare you? What do you think you're doing?" I demanded.

He just winked at me, took hold of my top and started lifting it. I knew I should have worn a fucking bra under that top. The reason I hadn't was that I'd wanted my breasts to bounce about under it, bringing them to Scott's attention. Not his father's!

"Arms up," he said. "You might as well," he said when I hesitated, "as your treasures are already on display." He was right so I meekly lifted my arms while he took my top right off. Once that was done I hastily folded an arm across my breasts while my other hand attempted to cover my groin. The burning of my face matched the burning of my bottom and I suspected that they were both very red.

"What do you intend doing?" I asked nervously. It was one thing to think of having sex with Scott. It was something else entirely to be faced with the prospect of having sex with his father, whether I wanted to or not. That raised the question -- did I want to? I just wish I knew the answer.

"Don't you know?" he asked, looking amused.

Of course I damn well knew. His intentions were, ah, very much on display.

"Of course I know," I snapped. "Um," I added, deciding to back-track a little, "sort of, I mean, kind of." My voice just trailed away, me not knowing what to say. I decided to shut up before I dug my grave with my mouth.

"Idiot," he said to me in a soft voice, smiling at me. "Don't worry about it. You'll catch on easily enough."

I swallowed nervously. He'd obviously caught on to the fact that I was still a virgin but he didn't care. Or perhaps he did care to the extent that he'd take it slowly so as not to panic me. Not that I was going to panic. At least I didn't think so. Then his hands were on my breasts, fondling them, and I wasn't quite so sure about that not panicking bit.

Looking down I could see my breasts, soft and white, with his hands, hard and sunburnt. For all the difference his hands were amazingly gentle, just stroking my breasts and teasing my nipples. It made it hard for me to think. I should be protesting this, not just standing there letting him touch me.

His hands trailed away from my breasts, stroking down my sides and circling around me. They finished up closing over my bottom, pulling me towards him. Then I was flush against him and I made a funny little EEP sound as I felt his erection pressing against me.

The rotten man kissed me at that point. I have to admit that he certainly knew how to kiss. I felt as though he was sweeping me right off my feet. Then I realised that he had, following up on the sweeping by lying me flat on my back on the floor. I have to admit that he had very nice carpeting with a soft thick pile. It was like lying on a bed. He promptly settled next to me and his hands were back on my body.

He stroked my breasts. He stroked my vulva. He played with me, leaving me breathing hard and squirming about under his touch. I was getting all worked up and there was nothing I could do about it. He manoeuvred so he was between my legs, stroking my slit with his erection. He stopped and winked at me.

"Use one hand to part your lips and the other to guide me into position," he told me.

I was shocked. Aghast. He was going to fuck me whether I wanted him to or not and he expected me to help him do it?

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Who else? I don't see anyone else around."

I should damn well hope not. Fancy being in this position with someone else watching. It didn't bear thinking about. Of course, now that he'd mentioned the possibility I couldn't help but wonder what Scott would think if he was watching. I'd bet he'd be regretting not grabbing for me himself.

I can tell you right now that it was a very nervous girl who spread her lips and then took hold of his erection. I took a very delicate hold, thumb and forefinger only, and moved it so the head was pressing against the space I'd made. He pressed against me and I hastily snatched my hands away, seeing my lips close over him.

I could feel him starting to slide into me. I was also feeling as nervous as hell, trying to tell myself that this wasn't happening. In denial, I guess, as that cock was most definitely there. I could feel it pressing against my hymen and then it was past, pressing deeper. I'd felt the stab of pain when I lost my virginity, greeting it with another loud EEP. I know that that's a ridiculous noise to make but I just couldn't help myself.

Mr Abbott was still pressing deeper, but moving slowly. I gained the impression that he wasn't moving slowly because he wanted to but because he had to work at getting his cock in. This impression was emphasised when he winked at me.

"Don't worry," he assured me. "You'll find you'll loosen up a little as we progress."

Whether I would or not was rather irrelevant. His cock was going in anyway and I was starting to feel most peculiar. This was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. As soon as I thought that I felt like slapping myself. Of course it was something new. First time, remember.

After an inordinate amount of time he seemed to relax a little and I knew he was finally fully inside me. I couldn't help but wonder how much he'd stretched me internally.

His hands were back on my breasts, stroking them, making me more fully aware of them. His cock was just in me, holding firm, and I was much more aware of that than anything else.

"I'm going to rock a little bit," he told me. "Feel free to rock in time to my movements. You needn't rush to do it. Just wait until it feels right."

Rocking he called it. I could feel his cock starting to slide back and forth inside me. Not doing much but definitely moving. Let's replace rock a little with fuck a little because that's what he was doing. Not the frantic thrusting you might see in porn but a gentle rhythm that was making itself known. Those little movements were getting to me, just as he knew they would.

Don't rush, he said. Just wait, he said. Fat chance of that happening. I was already reciprocating, pushing up against him as he moved. He just smiled at me, but I found his movements becoming more pronounced.

It reached a point where even he wouldn't try to say he was rocking a bit. He was pulling right back and then driving fully into me, slamming his cock back home with, admittedly, my enthusiastic help. It had become obvious to me that I'd waited far too long to start doing this sort of thing.

It just went on and on, him thrusting into me and his hands dancing over my breasts with me humping my hips to match his actions, gasping and squeaking all the while. The gasping I could understand as I was getting in some strenuous exercise. The squeaking was something else. I didn't know quite why I was doing it but I couldn't help myself, apparently a squeak being forced out of me every time he rammed home.

My excitement knew no bounds. I was dimly aware that my legs were wrapped around him and I was clinging tightly to him. I was so totally aroused and it just seemed to keep on getting better.

I finally climaxed, being taken so completely by surprise when it happened that I was totally. So shocked that I finally shut up and just let it roll.

He moved off me, sitting on the floor next to me. I was still stretched out naked and confused. I finally found my voice again.

"Really, Mr Abbott. You shouldn't have done that."

"I think at this stage you can call me George," he said. "Ah, which part of that shouldn't I have done?"

"All of it," I quickly pointed out.

"When you stop to consider it you'll have to agree that I had no choice," he protested. "If you'd just agreed to stop the stalking that would have been the end of it. Because you wouldn't agree I had to demonstrate the sort of repercussions you were inviting."

"A spanking would have been one thing," I said frostily. "Everything past that was far more than was called for."

"Oh? Then you should have asked me to stop. I certainly would have if you'd done so. Except for the spanking of course."

The gall of the man. I had told him to stop and in no uncertain words.

"I did tell you to stop," I said indignantly. "You just confused me and kept on doing whatever you wanted."

"Ah, well. I probably didn't hear you properly. My hearing's not the best."

What could I do but give him a nasty look, but even that failed. My heart just wasn't in it.

"Maybe you'd like to tidy up a bit. It would probably be unwise to be dressed like that when Scott returns. Might give him the wrong idea."

Or the right one, in this case. Whatever, I hastened to the bathroom and cleaned myself up. Coming back out I didn't know what to say. George didn't have that problem.

"So we're agreed that you won't waste any more time stalking Scott?" he asked and I nodded glumly.

"Good. Now tomorrow's Sunday and Scott is taking Amanda out for the day. They'll be gone by ten. Why don't you come around after that and I'll give you a couple of lessons."

"Excuse me?" Lessons? Lessons in what?

"I feel I need to show you that you don't need to be spanked to get excited. And there are a few other things that it won't hurt you to learn. I quite look forward to educating you."