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It’s quite odd at times, watching the latest generation matching up. My daughter and her friends are all around the twenty mark, give or take a year or two, and starting to look around on a serious basis for a likely mate. My attitude with some of the pairings was of the order, ‘They’ve got to be kidding. He/she is a total dork. What can he/she possibly see in him/her?’
I saw one highly intelligent young woman seeming quite happy to become engaged to a guy who I thought had the intellectual capabilities of a flea, and a rather dull flea at that. But they seemed happy with each other so who am I to judge?
At the other end are those who get friend-zoned. Kath is one of those. She’s a bright vivacious young woman. She likes playing sport, keeps herself in good condition, and is widely popular with both sexes. As a friend. No-one seemed to be looking at her as a potential partner. Even a couple of girls who I strongly suspected to be of the lesbian persuasion only ever seemed to treat Kath as a friend. To men and women alike she was a pal and a friend, apparently not lover material. She did date, but as far as I could tell there was never anything serious about it.
Mind you, I’m not infallible. Only nearly so. I suppose she could have raging hormones and be seducing all the boys, but doing it extremely discretely, but I doubted it. The girl was a bit of a puzzle.
My daughter came up to me the other day, just as she was going out.
“Dad, Kath is coming around to borrow my green witch’s costume. She’s got to take a bunch of nieces trick or treating tonight and need’s a decent costume but doesn’t want to buy one for just one occasion. We’re the same size so I said she could try it on and borrow it if it looked OK.”
With that she flitted, leaving me to consider exactly what did women mean when they say they’re the same size? Much as I love my daughter, I’d still give the points to Kath where busts are concerned. Still, not my problem.
I went on doing the things I’d had planned and halfway through the afternoon Kath knocked and I let her in.
“The costume is lying on Dianne’s bed,” I told her, and she smiled, thanked me, and headed off to Dianne’s room to try it out.
She came out about ten minutes later, looking for me and just a trifle embarrassed.
“Um, could you give me a hand, please, Mr B.?” she asked. She was clutching the top of the costume to her and half turning away so I could see she wasn’t quite zipped up. “I can’t quite do the zip up by myself. If you would. . .?”
I had no problem with that and pulled the zip up the last couple of inches.
Satisfied she shot back to the bedroom to check herself out in the mirror, only to return a few minutes later.
“Um, what do you think?” she asked, pirouetting around to give me a good look.
As a father I’d have had a few pointed words with my daughter about the amount of bosom showing. That little bit extra in the bust line made an enormous difference. If she went out asking for trick or treats I knew precisely the sort of tricks and treats she’d be offered.
As a disinterested observer – well, that wasn’t me. She looked hot.
“Can you breathe properly with that top? It looks a little tight,” I observed.
She hastened to assure me that she could and she was lying in her teeth. It was too tight, I could see that, and she must have known it. I looked a little closer.
“Kath, that costume has a built-in bra. You shouldn’t really be wearing another one with it. You’ll find it too constricting after a short while.”
Stepping up behind her I pulled the zip down a few inches.
“Go and try it without the bra. You’ll probably find it fits better.”
She went to do as advised, blushing as she left. It didn’t take her long to return, sans bra, needing the zip done up that last few inches. I obliged and turned her around to face me.
“Very nice,” I said, speaking quite honestly. “The green suits you and you’re no longer showing quite so much cleavage. Much better.”
She smiled, doing another pirouette, moving more freely I noted. She’d do very nicely with that costume.
Ever gone ahead and done something that you know you shouldn’t? I mean, you know damn well that you should not do that thing but go ahead and do it anyway. Kath turned her back to me so that I could start off the zipper for her. At least I knew my manners.
“Kath,” I said quietly, “let me apologise in advance.”
She was turning to look at me, wanting to know what I was talking about, when I ran the zipper down its full güvenilir canlı bahis siteleri length. I don’t think I mentioned that the costume was strapless. A real sexy wicked witch of the West sort of costume. It was held up by fitting very firmly around the bust. With the zipper undone it was no longer held up and promptly slithered floor-ward and Kath was standing there in a small pair of panties.
Kath naturally made a grab for it but was way too late, mainly because I caught her hands and prevented her.
“What’d you do that for?” she demanded. “And let go of my hands.”
“I did it because I wanted to see you. Why else? Now hush up for a moment. I haven’t finished.”
I let go her hands, mainly because I needed to use mine to lower those panties I’d mentioned. Kath made the mistake of raising her hands to cover her breasts which meant I had easy access, sliding her panties down while she was still catching on to what I was doing.
“Mr B.” she squealed, sounding shocked and mortally offended. She had a nice blush going as well.
Her hands were waving vaguely around, not knowing what area to cover first. I caught them quite easily, pushing them behind her back and holding them together.
I took my time looking her over and she was well and truly worth it. Why some young buck hadn’t dragged her off to his bed and chained her to it was beyond me. As far as I could tell she was everything a young man could want.
It slowly registered on me that she was still protesting. I reluctantly dragged my eyes away from her body and looked at her face, which was flushed and furious.
“Stop getting so het up over nothing,” I said soothingly. “No-one will know that I’ve checked you out bar you and me and I have no intention of telling anyone. Has anyone told you what a lovely body you have?”
Apart from shutting up and giving me angry looks she didn’t say anything, just waiting for me to release her. Instead of letting her go I reached up and stroked a breast.
“Very nice breasts,” I said softly, almost talking to myself. “White and shapely and just the right size. Sensitive, too.”
I could tell that they were sensitive by the way her nipples peaked after only the gentlest of caresses. With that sort of response I just felt I had to keep on caressing them.
“Do you mind?” Kath asked, her tone implying that she did. I took it as an honest question. It’s very disconcerting when someone takes sarcasm as an honest question.
“Not really,” I said, “but I think I’d prefer to taste them.”
Suiting actions to words I leaned down and took a nipple into my mouth, letting my teeth graze against it while my tongue brushed over it. At the same time I let go her wrists, sliding my hand down to her bottom and pulling her slightly closer to me.
“Mr B.” she wailed, and I lifted my head and moved away a little. A very little, keeping my hand on the curve of her bottom.
“What?” I asked, sounding as though I couldn’t see any problem.
“I want to get dressed,” she said, sounding rather nervous.
“I want to go on touching and kissing you,” I replied, “preferably while you’re still naked. Unless you have some sort of violent objection I’m going to keep doing things like this.”
In this particular case, ‘this’ was my hand running across her mons and starting to massage it.
“But you can’t do this sort of thing,” she protested.
I considered that a mild protest, not a violent objection, so I kept right on doing that sort of thing. At least, with only my hands occupied I was free to argue the point.
“Why not? I want to. I find you a very attractive young woman. I figure that it’s not going to hurt you and you may even find you like it.”
“And just how much touching do you intend to do?”
“As much as I can get away with of course.”
My hand had dipped between her legs and commenced some enthusiastic rubbing, fingers easing their way past her lips and into her cleft, gently probing. She was flushed and breathing hard, nipples erect and really starting to get quite hot and wet.
“Just what do you intend doing with this touching?”
She really was an innocent. I took my hands off her for a moment.
“Kath, my pet,” I said. “Once I have finished touching you up a little and getting you nicely aroused I’m going to lie you down on the nearest flat object, spread your legs, and have what the villains describe as my wicked way with you. In case you’re not quite sure what that means, let me give you a visual clue.”
I unzipped güvenilir illegal bahis siteleri and pulled my erection out, watching her eyes open wide.
“Get the message?” I asked.
“Put that away,” she said with a bit of a shriek. “I don’t do that sort of thing. You know I don’t.”
“Kath, I don’t really care if you’ve done that sort of thing in the past. All I really care about is that you’re going to do that sort of thing with me, very shortly.”
“You can’t. I don’t want you to.”
“Uh-huh. And your wishes in this matter are important to me because???”
She looked a trifle stunned at that. Rather a hard question to answer, I suppose.
“Kath, if you really don’t want me to lay you down and spend some quality time on your body you’d better come up with a pretty cogent argument or put up some real resistance. So far you’ve done neither.”
While I was speaking I was also pulling her firmly against me so she could feel the length of me pressing against her nakedness. She started squirming when she realised my cock was touching her, only to stop with a start.
“Oh, god, you like me doing that,” she gasped.
“Indeed,” I drawled. “Why did you stop? Didn’t you like the feel of me rubbing against you?”
“What? No! Of course not,” she gasped. “Look, you have to stop this.”
What she said and what her body seemed to suggest were two different things. She was flushed, nipples erect, sweating very lightly, and breathing harder. I decided to move things along.
“No,” I told her. “What I need to do is move this along a little.”
I scooped Kath up into my arms and carried her down to my bedroom, listening to, and ignoring, her complaints every step of the way. Reaching my bedroom I flicked the covers back, even as I laid her on the bed. I stood there admiring the look of her on my bed while I slowly stripped.
Kath’s eyes seemed to get bigger as she watched me strip, her voice raising slight as she iterated why this whole thing was a bad idea. However, for all her protests, she didn’t try to get off the bed. She just lay there, waiting for me. I couldn’t help but think if she was truly averse to what was going to happen she’d either fight or run. It’s not as though I could chase her with my trousers around my knees.
I settled down onto the bed next to her. She was almost quivering with trepidation.
“Your turn to touch me,” I told her.
“I’ve been touching you and learning what your body feels like and very nice it is, too,” I murmured. “Now it’s your turn to touch me and see what a male body feels like.”
I relaxed and waited. I was fit and my body wasn’t in too bad a shape. Nothing for me to be ashamed of. I let her wrestle with the ‘should she/shouldn’t she’ for a short while, then took the decision out of her hand. I took her hand and placed it on my chest, on the assumption she was more likely to go with the ‘should’ option if it started off harmlessly.
She didn’t immediately snatch her hand away but let it rest there. After a few moments she started trailing it over me. Her hand wandered around, feeling my general hardness compared to the firm softness of her own body. She got skittish when her hand neared my groin, moving swiftly to the side to avoid touching anything delicate. I let it go the first time, but the second time she tried that I moved slightly. Instead of avoiding my groin she suddenly found herself with a handful of cock, hard and hot and, apparently, intriguing, because she left her hand there, lightly moving it about, nearly sending me through the wall.
It seemed to me that if Kath could hold my cock she couldn’t really complain if I started touching her again. My hand slid over her, closing upon her pussy, starting a slow sensual massage. At the same time my mouth closed over her breasts, sucking lightly. She made a few incoherent sounds at that point but she didn’t let go my erection so I took her noises as being agreement. I started rubbing harder and exploring deeper, fingers now trespassing into virgin territory.
An odd indication of the progress I was making in arousing Kath was the strength of her grip on my erection. While lightly aroused and interested she was holding me lightly and exploring. As her arousal grew, so did the strength of her grip. It was starting to get quite painful after a while. I did what any man would do in such a situation. I extracted my cock from her grip and prepared to put it where it would do me the most good.
I moved between her thighs, spreading her legs wider, güvenilir bahis şirketleri my cock poised for its entry. I looked at her to see if she was going to object but she barely spared me a glance. She was watching my cock as it pressed lightly against her, holding her breath, waiting. Seeing as she had no active objection I pressed forward slightly.
As soon as her lips closed over the head of my erection she let out her breath with a gasp. It was a case of, “Oh my god, you’re really doing it,” as I started pushing deeper.
I think I mentioned virgin flesh. That was self-evident fact as my cock found that weak little barrier to glory and kicked its way through. Turned out I should have taken a little longer as Kath gave a horrified squeal of pain.
“That hurt, you bastard,” was the loving appellation she bestowed upon me.
I held still, murmuring apologies, hand busy massaging her mons, distracting her from the painful deflowering. I kept on whispering sweet nothings, praising her courage and how sweet she felt, preparing to move deeper before she could panic and demand I back off.
Kath calmed down a little and I pushed deeper. Not very much deeper. She was hot and wet but also very tight and nervous, passively resisting my entry. I had to keep a firm pressure to make any headway at all, her passage seeming determined to fight all the way along.
Even as I pushed in I could feel her passage closing around me and gripping me. I swear I have never taken so long just to get my cock in, fighting a tenacious resistance the whole way. I have never been more relieved than when I found my groin grinding against hers and knowing that I was finally in place.
I held myself deep inside her, not moving, while I praised her to the skies, telling her how wonderful she felt and how things would just keep getting better and better. I could feel the slow adjustments taking place within her as she settled more comfortably around my cock.
Finally I was able to get the show on the road, pulling slowly back and urging her to move with me. No hurry, just move as I move, take your time, get used to me inside you, plenty of time.
She was very tentative at first, which was only to be expected, but she quickly found a matching rhythm, moving with me, a dreamy expression on her face. I hate to admit it but I don’t think she saw me at that stage. All she was doing was concentrating on was what was happening to her body and she was loving it.
With a nice slow movement I was able to keep this stage going for quite a while, just nursing her along, building her excitement, and mine. For a time I was able to just keep taking those long slow thrusts, enjoying the feel of her pushing up to meet me, almost moaning her pleasure.
Eventually it all began to be too much for her. As well as moving with me she was starting to writhe about a little, pressing her body harder against me, wanting something more but not knowing how to ask for it. It didn’t matter. I was getting the message loud and clear. I started building up speed.
The increased speed satisfied her for about one minute. After that she drew the conclusion that if slow was good and faster was better, then even more speed would be better yet. She started trying to hustle me.
I was more than ready, quite happy to provide some hard full-length strokes, driving in harder which each thrust. She was all, “Yes, yes, yes. Oh, oh, oh. Yes, yes, yes,” which I found very pleasing and encouraging.
I picked up the pace again and her vocalisations became somewhat incoherent as she bucked beneath me, taking everything I was giving her and wanting more. Not that I needed to give her much more. A few extra-hard strokes and she was history, giving a high pitched cry as her climax crashed through her, finding my climax busy flooding her as I joined her in the endgame.
When she had her breath back the first thing she wanted to know was, “Why did you do that?”
Well, that was an easy one to answer; I was a lusty bastard who saw my chance and took it.
“Simply put I suppose that it’s because I’ve been wanting you for a long time now,” I told her, “and when I saw you in that sexy little witch’s costume, with your breasts spilling out, I just couldn’t help myself. And, reprehensible though it may be, I just can’t find it in myself to regret doing it.”
That seemed to satisfy her. She gave a contented little sigh and snuggled up next to me. I held her in my arms, letting her relax, one hand gently stroking her breast. It wouldn’t be long and she’d remember Halloween and the fact that she had to go and take some kids out. When that happened it would be all squeals and rush, rush, rush, and then she’d be gone. In the interim I could relax and plan my next assault upon her person. I didn’t know when or where, but I would have that young lady again, and damned soon.
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