Visiting a Friend


It was a sunny Saturday afternoon and I was at a loose end and feeling bored. With nothing else to do I decided I’d wander down to the mall and do some window-shopping. Only window-shopping as I was too broke to actually buy anything.

Now there was no way I was going to the mall dressed in a sloppy fashion, so I got changed before I went. Seeing I was in a bit of a toey mood I decided to put on some flirting clothes. Not that I was going to flirt with anyone in particular but I’d get a kick out of seeing men take surreptitious looks at me, eyeing me off.

I finished up going with tight shorts (not too tight or too short) and a short top that left me with some midriff showing. Hey, as far as I was concerned it was a case of if you’ve got it, flaunt it, and I most definitely had it.

The mall wasn’t far, especially if I cut through the park, so I decided to walk it. The park was fairly busy, if you can call people taking it easy as being busy. I strolled along, deliberately not noticing the boys noticing me. Most of the boys were about my age, around eighteen/nineteen and quite frankly they did nothing for me. I just happen to find older men more attractive.

I’m not saying I’m dating older men. Not yet, anyway. I just find them more attractive. It’s their maturity, I think. I’m eighteen myself and feel quite mature but boys my age seem so juvenile. Also, I’ve found boys my age tend to be a bit grabby regarding things that I consider to be mine and that they should keep their hands off of. Slightly older men would show more finesse, I’m sure.

Anyway, as I was saying, I was strolling through the park not noticing the boys. I didn’t even notice when a couple of them trailed along behind me, watching me walk. Tight shorts on a curvy little bottom like mine will make boys do that.

I will admit that I was feeling somewhat smug as I walked along. It was one of those times when I was thinking, ‘You want me, but you can’t have me. Suck it up, suckers.’

Eventually I got to the mall and wandered around. I ran into several people I knew and we chatted for a while before going on our various ways. The girls I met would check me out at the same time as I checked them out, all of us knowing we were only there to be seen and had dressed accordingly. (Except for Janet. My god, the things that she had on. She looked like a cheap hooker trolling for customers, not that I’d tell her that. But really, that girl has no sense of fashion.)

After I’d been there for about an hour or so I started to get bored and decided I’d head on home. I was strolling through the main section of the mall when I spotted this honey walking towards me. He was tall, with dark hair. I wouldn’t exactly call him handsome but he had this air of charisma about him. Whatever he had it sure made him look attractive. He was dressed in a suit and his body filled out that suit very nicely. There was something very solid about him.

I have to confess that I was sort of watching him as I walked along. I almost felt as though I knew him, there being something familiar about him. I suddenly realised that he was looking at me and smiling and my heart gave a little flip. I rather tentatively smiled back at him.

I promptly got all confused and flustered when he stopped in front of me and gave me the most charming smile. I almost totally lost it when he spoke to me.

“Hi, Debbie,” he said. “Haven’t seen you for a while.”

I’m like, hey, what? Who are you? There was no way I was going to ask him who he was. How could I possibly not know when he knew me? My brain was bouncing about inside my skull saying, think, girl, think.

He must have seen my confusion because he laughed.

“Imagine me in jeans and a t-shirt,” he told me. “I think the suit is throwing you.”

Came the dawn in a blinding flash. He was Mr Jaffar, Marie’s father.

“Oh, Mr Jaffar,” I blurted out. “You’re quite right. I just didn’t recognize you with clothes on.”

He was laughing and my face was bright red.

“A suit on,” I mumbled. “I meant with a suit on.”

“I sort of guessed that that was what you meant,” he said. “Still, I won’t keep you from your shopping. Nice to have seen you.”

Keep me. By all means keep me. I won’t mind.

I only thought that. What I said was something along the lines of it was nice to meet you, and then we parted. As he walked away all I could do was wonder when Marie’s father had got so hot. Surely it wasn’t just the suit that made the difference.

He went his way and I went mine, leaving the mall and strolling home through the park, again not noticing the boys watching me. Really, they were such children at times. As I neared my place balıkesir escort it occurred to me that I really hadn’t seen Marie for a while. She lived near me so why didn’t I swing past and say hullo, seeing I was out and about. And despite what some people are probably thinking I wasn’t doing it to see her father again. He was probably still at the mall.

I arrived at Marie’s place and there was a car sitting in the drive. It appeared her father had beaten me here. I knew it was her father’s car because Marie hasn’t got a license yet. Go in or go home? If Marie had spotted me I’d look a complete idiot if I just turned around and walked off again. I guessed I’d better go in.

The front door was standing open do I banged on it and called out to Marie.

“Come on in,” a male voice called and so I did.

That’s when Mr Jaffar popped out of the master bedroom and my stomach managed to do a somersault. He plainly hadn’t beaten me here by much and the first thing he’d done was get out of that suit. He was wearing socks, track suit pants, and a singlet. If that wasn’t bad enough the track suit pants weren’t tied and were drooping to one side, looking in danger of falling off.

“Debbie,” Mr Jaffar greeted me, ushering me into the front room. “Couldn’t stay away from me, eh?”

“Don’t sprain your wrist patting yourself on the back,” I said snidely. “Seeing you at the mall reminded me that I hadn’t seen Marie for a while and since I was wandering around doing nothing I thought I’d drop in and see her.”

“And I’m sure she’d be delighted to see you, if she were here, which she’s not.”

He smiled at me kindly.

“She’s gone to stay at her mother’s place for a few days,” he told me. “Her mother’s taking her shopping for her birthday present. Apparently my birthday present to her is paying for whatever her mother gets.”

He settled down onto the couch, apparently willing to stop and talk for a while. I wasn’t sure whether to stop and talk or to go on home but I didn’t get a chance to decide. Mr Jaffar pulled me down onto his knee.

“Well, it’s a long time since I’ve had you on my knee,” he said with a laugh. “I think you and Marie weren’t even teenagers at the time.”

With that he pulled me closer to him and kissed me. I couldn’t believe that he was doing that. He was a pretty decent kisser, too, and I found myself kissing him back. Then I recalled that he was Marie’s father and I shouldn’t be doing this. Neither should he, come to think of it. I pulled my head back a little and gave him a reproving look.

“Mr Jaffar,” I exclaimed.

“Call me Ian,” he said. “Mr Jaffar sounds so standoffish, if you know what I mean.”

With that Ian was kissing me again. Well, why not? There was nothing wrong with a couple of kisses, now was there?

You know I said that older men showed more finesse? Ian certainly demonstrated that. I didn’t even realise that my bra had come undone until I found that his hand was closed over one of my breasts with Ian teasing the nipple. I couldn’t even protest because he had a hand on the back of my head holding me still while he kissed me.

The next time I got my mouth free I tried again. Looking down at myself I gasped. Both my bra and my top were rucked up over the top of my breasts, leaving them both exposed. Well, relatively exposed, as I was wearing a hand-bra. The trouble was that the hands weren’t mine.

“Ian!” I said in a half wail. “This is ridiculous.”

“You’re right,” he said, much to my annoyance. Then he continued.

“It’ll be much easier if we just take these right off,” he said, grabbing hold of my top and bra and lifting. He had it up and off before I could protest, my arms just automatically rising to let him lift the top off.

“Much better,” he said and then he was kissing me again. Not my lips, this time. My breasts. He was touching and tasting and teasing, nibbling on my nipples and generally doing all the things that I’ve slapped boys for trying.

I was feeling confused. Come to think of it I was feeling a lot of different things right then, but confused was up near the top. What was I supposed to do now? I’d never been in this position before, always stopping the action before it got too intense. Maybe I should have let some boys go just a little further so I’d know how to shut them down again. Too late now.

I was all set to push his head away from me and tell him that enough is enough when I got another shock. His hand closed over me in a very intimate way. An instant flashback told me that his hand had been stroking my leg but I’d been ignoring that. Something about having a man chewing on your breast proves a little distracting. I now found that having a man’s hand rubbing you down there was even more distracting.

“What are you doing?” I gasped, finally finding my voice. “I think you really should not be doing that.”

He lifted his head and sighed, his hands moving to my waist. Both of them thank god.

“You’re right,” he said, lifting me slightly. “Stand up.”

I have never stood up so fast in my life. I felt like a rabbit that had just escaped the fox and my heart was racing. I was too flustered over what he had been doing and how I felt to notice what he was actually doing. I certainly switched to noticing that when I found my shorts were unbuttoned and that they and my panties were being pushed firmly down.

I tried to take a step backwards and then found I had to clutch hold of Ian to stop myself falling onto my bottom, my feet being tangled in my shorts. Ian helped me get my balance and then stood up himself. Well he had to, didn’t he? He couldn’t drop his tracksuit pants and undies while he was sitting on them. His trousers seemed to just fall down and his erection promptly sprung into existence.

He sat down again, pulling me with him. I was no longer feeling confused, my confusion now being replaced with utter consternation. Not only was Ian nuzzling my breasts again but his hand was rubbing me intimately. Again. And not through my shorts this time. Now it was much more intimate. And on top of all that I could feel his erection pressing against my side.

I wanted to push the silly thing away from me but that would mean I had to touch it and, quite frankly, I was a little scared to do that. Where would my touching it lead?

Ian had no worries in this regard. He caught hold of my hand and dragged it down and around until it was wrapped around his cock. Then his hand went back to touching me some more, leaving my hand holding him. I was going to snatch my hand away but what would be the use? He’d just put it back there. I might as well just keep holding it.

His cock felt big and hard and hot and silky smooth. I was idly wondering just how big it was, thinking that maybe if I thought about that I wouldn’t think about the way he was touching me. My hand just drifted up and down the length of him, trying to assess the size. Very large compared to my hand was my decision, but that didn’t really tell me much. I certainly wasn’t going to look at it again. It had given me a shock just seeing it leaping out of his trousers. I saw no need for further viewing of the thing.

You can colour me naïve if you like but I hadn’t given any thought to Ian’s ultimate intentions. Yes, I knew that he was petting me (against my intentions, I assure you, as I’d never do this sort of thing by choice, no matter how hot he is), and I knew that we were both naked (although I was feeling awfully hot and flushed for someone with no clothes on), and I knew that he had an erection (and a blasted big one in my opinion), but I just hadn’t added all these little things together. (Not that his erection could be called a little thing. I probably should have had both my hands holding it.)

It wasn’t until he tilted me backwards and I found myself flat on my back on the couch with him kneeling between my thighs that it dawned on me that he had evil intentions. I was looking down the length of my body, noting that my breasts were swollen and my nipples all puckered up. I could even see my pussy and I could see my labia were all puffed up and parted and just past them was Ian’s cock, and the way it was hovering above me made it seem larger than ever.

So what did I do? I compounded my idiocy. I looked down at where his cock was about to ravish me and said, “What are you going to do?”

What was he going to do? I felt like slapping myself. I knew what he was going to do alright. Anyone in the world who looked in out general direction would know precisely what he intended and I had to go and ask a stupid question like that.

From the look he gave me I knew that I wasn’t the only one who thought it a stupid question. He just leaned slightly closer, his cock now touching me. He started using it to stoke up and down along the cleft in my pussy while I bit my lip, feeling rather tense and expectant.

I just lay there, watching his cock stroke me, and then he stopped, his cock just touching me. I bit my lip a little harder, knowing what he was going to do. And he didn’t do it.

I kept watching and he did nothing. Eventually I transferred my gaze from his cock to his face, finding he was watching me with an amused look on his face. I swallowed nervously, finding myself unable to take my eyes away from his. Even when I felt him starting to press more heavily against me I just kept my eyes locked on his.

After that, way too late, it was a case of me suddenly realizing that he’d been waiting for me to say yes or no. He’d been willing to let me make the decision and I’d just laid there and looked at him like a prize gawk. He’d undoubtedly been quite happy to assume that no decision meant yes. Well, why wouldn’t he? I’d had a chance to scream blue murder, get away from me you foul fiend, etcetera, and I hadn’t done it. I’d just waited until he did it and it was too late for me to protest.

With that realisation came the additional realisation that his cock was moving into me. My eyes finally looked down below and I was horrified to see his shaft was drilling its way into me. Way too late I wanted to scream but all I could do was watch, mouth open in shock. I felt that moment when I went from virgin to ex and I very nearly screamed at that point, because it hurt, but that stubborn streak that had kept me silent was still going strong. I might have twitched a bit when it happened, but I didn’t scream.

Feeling his cock sinking into me was the most incredible sensation. I had no idea how to describe it but I damn well knew I didn’t want him to stop doing it. Not at this stage, I didn’t. I could feel him pushing into me. He wasn’t just slipping into place like I’d sort of imagined it would happen, but he was forcing his way down my passage. I could feel myself first resisting, and then yielding, letting him by, and I could also feel myself closing around him, wanting to hold him there.

For a while there I didn’t think he was going to put the whole thing in. I mean, it was so large and I was so small that I felt sure that he was going to have to stop at some stage, but he didn’t. He kept coming and I seemed to be able to keep on accommodating him, until finally he was fully inside me. Now that he was set he got to work, pulling back and driving in again. I was now finding that everything that had happened to this point was just the preliminary and the main game was now under way. He moved firmly on top of me, his cock thrusting in hard while his hands were all over my breasts. He didn’t just start off at full speed but took it slowly to start with, coaxing me to move with him. Once he was satisfied that I was doing this he increased his effort.

When Ian was just rocking gently on me it was easy to just move with him, pushing gently up to meet him. It was really quite a dreamy experience, with him doing the work and me going along for the ride. I could, I decided, take a whole lot more of this. I hadn’t known that I was about to get a whole lot more then and there.

Ian was moving faster and I had to move faster to keep up with him. After a few moments he was pounding away at a nice steady pace, one that I found I could keep up with, and his cock was doing wonderful things to me. The feel of his hands on my breasts wasn’t too bad, either.

He kept going and going and I was just lost in a world of hazy feeling, great excitement being engendered within me. I was also getting hotter, feeling as though my blood was bubbling along my veins, carrying that heat deep into me. I gradually became aware that there was something more coming. I could feel pressure building inside me, teasing me, making me nervous with anticipation, not sure what was going to happen but wanting it anyway.

Actually, I was sure. I was going to climax, I just knew it. I just wasn’t sure what that entailed. A first experience is a first experience and you’ve nothing to compare it to. The second time I’d have the first as a comparison and then I’d know more, but right now?

He picked up the pace and I was moving swiftly to match him. I was also gasping, making little, “Aah,” noises as he put on the pressure, and then something inside me gave way and I found out just what a climax was and I literally screamed my approval.

The next few minutes were somewhat hazy but I do remember Ian producing a bowl of warm water and a facecloth and wiping me down. Then he was helping me dress and the next thing I knew we were in the kitchen having a cup of coffee.

I had no idea what to say so I just kept my mouth shut and drank my coffee. He told me that it was a pity that Marie hadn’t been home (and he almost sounded as though he meant it) and said that he’d let her know that I dropped around. I finally found myself at the front door, feeling a little confused.

That’s when he kissed me again and pointed out that I needn’t wait for Marie to be there to visit. I was welcome anytime. He’d be home that evening if I was feeling bored and wanted someone to talk to.

I wandered off homeward, wondering just what he’d talk about if I did come back. Would he bother to talk at all? Not that I was coming back. But still, I couldn’t help wondering.

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