This is my first attempt at erotica, so please be merciful. I wrote this story as a request from another member I met a while ago (I had a different account at the tme). If you like my writing and have a fantasy you'd like me to write into a story, don't hesitate to ask. My only conditions are these:
-Nothing about underage kids (16 is the age of consent in my country)
-Nothing about animals (they cannot give consent)
-Nothing about people being violated or otherwise abused against their will. BDSM is fine, so long as all parties consent.
Anyway here is the story. Hope you enjoy!!
The girls couldn't help but giggle a little as they looked at the screen. At 18, neither Andy nor her best friend Amy had felt the pleasure of a man's touch. Amy's finger scrolled down on the mouse wheel, revealing even more pictures. Neither of them was giggling now; instead they both gazed intently at the men on the screens. Amy started to scroll to the next page when Andy stopped her.
"Wait," she said, holding on to Amy's wrist, "look at that one!"
Andy pointed at an older man, in his mid 40s perhaps. His hair had a touch of grey but his smile revealed the confidence of age and maturity. There was not a hint of discomfort in his face and unlike the others they had seen up until this point, he did not look like he was posing for picture. It almost seemed to Andy as if the photographer had caught him in a candid shot and yet, he also looked as if he knew he was being watched. Andy's eyes roamed his body, and her hand had already begun moving between her legs when her friend broke her gaze.
"What's so special about him?" She said. "He's kinda old."
"He's just so sexy though," Andy retorted, "look at his eyes. I bet he knows how to please a girl."
Amy looked at her friend confusedly. "I guess so. What about this guy though? Look at those abs!"
The mouse cursor was restingon a young, hairless man, with sparking muscle and shoulder length blonde hair, a bright white smile, and an erection bigger than either of the girls had seen up until that point.
"Look at the size of that thing..." Amy said, engrossed by the sight of his engorged penis.
But Andy could not look away from the older man they had come across. He was perfect in her eyes and the moisture between her legs confirmed her attraction. She knew she'd soon have to satiate her desires and could hardly keep her hands from drifting into position in her friend's presence. 'Amy must feel the same way' she thought, looking down between her friend's legs. Amy was totally absorbed by the man she examining on screen and hardly noticed Andy's gaze. Andy stood up to go.
"I think I should go see if dad needs help with dinner." She said.
"Sure." Said Amy, eyes still fixed on the screen. "That's a good idea."
Andy smiled to her self as she left her friend's room. "Bye Amy" she called back, "don't forget our movie night tomorrow!"
"Ok. You too." Amy yelled back disinterestedly.
Andy walked at a steady pace towards her father's house. The southern California sun was hot, but it was the image of the older man which had Andy sweating today. As she turned the at the end of Amy's street she felt a cool breeze lift her skirt up slightly and cool the inside of her thighs. That was when she realized the extent of her wetness. She needed to get home, she needed to take her skirt and panties off, she needed to satisfy herself and she needed to to it fast. Her pace quickened. She could feel the sweat now dripping down from her neck and behind her ears, slowly making its way down inbetween her perky breasts. She could not get that image out of her mind. The chest, strong and chiseled, the dark trail of hair leading down to his not yet erect penis, the grey eyes, which seemed to shoot beams of confidence and sexual energy out at her, and the masculine hands, worn from years of work, but still energetic and searching for a place on her body to rest. She finally opened the front door and was hit by a wave of cold air conditioned air.
"Andy! Is that you?" Her father yelled out from the living room. No time to talk. She had already started making her way up stairs to her room.
"Andrea!" He yelled out again. "Are you ok?"
She had made to the top of the stairs and turned around to find her dad looking up at her from below.
"I'm fine dad. I just need to change out of these sweaty clothes."
"I've never seen you in such a rush." He answered. "You look flushed. Are you sure everything's ok?"
Maybe it was the heat. Maybe it was her excited sexuality. Whichever it was, Andy knew she was no longer looking at her dad the same way she had done this morning when she kissed him on the cheek before heading to school. The hair around his temples had greyed a little. Her mother's infidelity had made the past year difficult for him; she had found a younger man. For the first time since her mother's betrayal, Andy had noticed, or at least thought she noticed, the sexual tension in her father's countenance. She knew he had not been with a woman since her mother and, now more than ever, felt not only the emotional turmoil in his heart, but the sexual frustration in his step. His hazy blue eyes looked up at her and seemed to search her body, once resting on her breasts, once on her smooth, shapely legs, and finally on her slightly parted lips.
"Are you ok?" He repeated.
"Y-yes, daddy." She replied meekly. "I just need to get out of these clothes."
"Because they are sweaty. And it's hot." She immediately added nervously.
"Ok honey." He said, as he began turning back towards the living room.
"Oh one more thing dear. Don and I are going out to a pub tonight so you'll have to make your own dinner tonight."
"Ok dad," Andy answered as she rushed into her room.
She closed her curtains and began tearing off her clothes as quickly as she could. She stood for a moment, completely naked, her arms and legs spread out, and let the cool air engulf her hot sweaty body. Her nipples hardened as the sweat evaporated from her heaving tits. She closed her eyes and slowly began running her hands down the length of her body, over her breasts and hardened nipples and down towards her wet pussy. The first touch sent shivers through her body. She began gently sliding her fingers between her lips, careful not to put slide them too deep into her young pussy. She had done this a few times before, but never had she been so aroused, so captivated by the image of the older man. She began moaning as she imagined his fingers exploring her young pussy. She was possessed by this image; he was the manifestation of sex in her mind. She could hardly feel the pain as she bit down on the fingers of her left hand, while her right furiously beat against her throbbing clit. With her eyes still closed and her mind overcome by images of well experienced hands holding her down, penetrating her, taking her to the heights of pleasure, she mounted a pillow on her bed and began frantically thrusting her hips across its surface. Torrents of pleasure rushed through her as she reached the height of sexual ecstasy.
As the orgasm dissipated she realized it was not the man she had seen on Amy's computer she was imagining. The man who she just imagined herself riding, the man who had made her cum so violently was her father. She looked down at the stain on her pillow in amazement. The shuffling of feet behind her door made no impression on her.
Andy lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The initial shock had long been replaced by a sense of shameless curiosity. Her thoughts were nebulous, impossible to penetrate or identify. She could hardly tell what she was thinking and only knew how she felt. She recognized the thirst she had awakened that afternoon. She knew it could no longer be quenched by the beating of her hands or the swaying of her hips against fabric. Deep down she knew only one thing would satisfy her young desire, though she dare not admit it openly to herself.
Just as she felt the warmth once again returning to her loins, her phone's vibrating shook her violently from her sexual reverie. It was Amy. The text read "Jose finally asked me out!!!" Andy knew Amy had been waiting a long time for her crush, but could not share in her friend's excitement. In fact she could hardly understand why her friend was so interested in these boys. They held no fascination for her, no mystery. Arrogant, yet insecure, brash, yet cowardly, incapable of holding a conversation and interested only in themselves. She needed someone confident and interesting, someone to show her the world, while shielding her from its dangers. She knew exactly who she was imagining.
It was about 6 in the evening when Andy got out of bed, dressed in pjs and left her room, having satisfied herself as best she could without the aid of the man she had been dreaming of. She weakly walked down stairs, her legs trembling with every step, and poured a glass of cold water. The afternoon's ecstasies had left her muscles weakened and tired. She dropped herself on the couch and turned on the tv. Stock market news. Her dad kept a close watch on the endless ebb and flow of stocks. Though these numbers would help determine her future, they held little meaning to her in youth. She cycled through a few channels, eventually landing on the 'family channel' and yet another preteen drama. She remembered enjoying these shows as a child and watching them now held a certain sort of nostalgic pleasure. She knew that the plots were poorly thought out and that the acting left something to be desired, but nevertheless, felt comfortable watching. Without thinking she crossed her legs, as she had done many years ago, and instinctively smiled at the weak attempts at humor coming from her tv. Yet, something was different now. The characters seemed over sexualized to her. The oldest in this show was no more than 13 and yet already had a boyfriend. Andy thought about herself at the age. She had no interest in boys. At 18, she still hadn't had a boyfriend. She suddenly felt uneasy and turned the tv off.
She walked back up the stairs towards her room. Perhaps the internet would afford a few hours of entertainment instead. She drearily walked past the bathroom door, but doubled back when something caught her eye. Her dad had forgotten to close the door. It was slightly ajar. At first she decided to ignore it and started towards her room, but her curiosity was too strong. She tip toed her way towards the bathroom door, trying as hard as she could not to make a noise. The opening only gave her a view of the mirror and all she could see the reflection of the shower curtain. She could hear her dad inside drying off with a towel but could not see anything. Andy slowly adjusted her viewing angle, standing flat against the wall.
Her eyes widened as they found what they had been looking for. Her dad was drying off his dark hair, dripping wet and completely naked. Her heart began to race. She scanned his powerful body with her eyes. He had the body of a swimmer, if not for the black hair that covered his chest and ran down his stomach. She watched as beads of water ran danced through chest hair and ran past strong abs towards his long soft member. It hung there, limp, swaying with the movement of his arms as he furiously dried his hair. She watched as a single bead emerged from the hair around its base, and slowly tricked down the shaft, getting caught at the lip of the head, before forcing its way over, and sliding off his head as though it reached an imaginary target. The path it blazed was singed in her memory and in that moment she imagined it making its way down his thick shaft more times than she could even count. Andy was so mesmerized with what she was seeing that she did not even notice the wetness between her thighs. She swallowed the entire image, not allowing a single moment to escape her memory. Her eyes rested on every feature of his body, his nipples, hardened from the cold, his slender, toned thighs, his sculpted abs, covered by a thin layer of black hair, his biceps, flexing as his hands gripped the moistening toil, and his genitals bobbing with each motion. She had never seen a more perfect image of masculinity and sexual energy. Andy wanted nothing more than to burst into the bathroom and throw herself at him, offering her body as a sacrifice to the adonis she saw before her. She could almost feel his firm grip around her waste and his deep voice directing her every motion. Lost in her fantasies, her right hand had, without her bidding, found its way into her panties. Her middle finger circled her clit furiously. She looked back inside the bathroom and saw that he had turned away from her and had one leg raised on the edge of the bathtub. Her hand slowed as she took in this new image. His back was to her and she could see his butt for first time and, with legs slightly parted, his swaying ballsack as well. With her left hand she reached forward, almost hoping for a touch. He might as well have been a mile away but she could not help but hope. Without warning he turned around and looked directly at the mirror for the first time.
"Andy is that you?" He said, puzzled.
She immediately pulled her hand out of her pants and scurried off to her room, not daring to provide an answer to his inquiry. Her body burned with embarrassment. She couldn't believe she had watched for so long! Why not get your fill and leave! Why sit there and watch when you know he will eventually see you! She had been transfixed by his nakedness and could not hope to answer these questions. She rushed into her room and shut the door, breathing heavily, her cheeks flaming red. She paced around the room not know what to do next. Does she go back out there and act like nothing happened? Does she simply stay in her room until the next morning and hope he forgets? But how could he forget something like that? She slumped onto her bed not knowing what to do. Then came a knock at her door.
"Andy?" His deep voice said.
"Yes dad?" She meekly offered back.
"I'm heading out now. I'll see you tomorrow morning, ok sweetie?"
"Ok." She could barely muster up the word.
"Love you dear" he said as he walked away.
"You too dad" she whispered.
She breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he simply wouldn't mention what happened. Maybe he was just as embarrassed as she was. Either way she was glad he did not bring it up. She was also glad that she had the rest of the evening to recall what she had seen and the privacy to enjoy it as thorougly as she pleased.