Brooklyn Reese
My Best Friend's Dad
My heart pounded hard beneath my chest as I steeled myself against the heavy door, attempting to catch my breath. I shifted my focus to the far away sound of the slot machines, concentrating on the hungry cha-ching reverberating from their metal exteriors as they drained money from their greedy victims. The sound was oddly soothing and it slowed my breathing, allowing me a few seconds to clear my head. I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this, suddenly becoming aware of the moisture between my thighs, my throbbing pussy tingling in anticipation. I had been planning this conquest for the past year, waiting for the right moment, longing to feel his touch at last. Looking around at my surroundings, I took it all in. Eighteen years of saving myself, and this was how I was going to lose my virginity — hundreds of miles from home in a casino hotel — the pungent odor of stale cigarettes and whisky wafting up from the lobby and filling the air. The smell of success, however, was so very sweet. My only real regret was not sleeping with my best friend’s dad months ago.
I met Tory Watkins in grade school after her family moved to the city for her dad’s job. We became fast friends and were inseparable from that point forward. We spent so much time together, in fact, that our parents ended up close by default, hanging out often, spending weekends cooking on the grill or taking the boat out on the lake. As the years went on, our families even began trading off the care of the kids while the adults took vacations to their respective grown-up playgrounds. It was ideal for everyone, and we all adopted each other as a second family. Unfortunately, it came crashing down around us one stormy day in April, just two months after I’d turned sixteen.
Mr. and Mrs. Watkins ended up in a heated argument after they’d returned from a night out. Apparently Kathryn Watkins had too much to drink and admitted to having an affair for the past six months. She cried that she was madly in love with the other man, whom she’d known in her former life, and they were planning to move to his vacation home just outside of Las Vegas. She insisted that Tory stay behind to finish her sophomore year, and that she would fly her out to visit over the summer. Mrs. Watkins moved out that very weekend with the promise she would call soon, but that call never came. Three months passed before the ex-Mrs. Watkins showed up on her old doorstep to finally see her daughter, and Tory, forgiving soul that she is, fell across her lap sobbing that she was lonely and couldn’t take being there without her mother. By that time summer had rolled around and Tory packed her bags, defiant after a fight with her father, swearing she was leaving for good. She did just that as she headed out west to live the glamorous life her mother promised her she would have. She squeezed me tight as she boarded the plane and made me swear to come visit her in SinCity the first chance I had. And just like that, she was gone too.
I felt a sense of responsibility towards Mr. Watkins after Tory left. He was trying to adjust to single life after the divorce and now he’d been abandoned by his daughter to boot. He had been so kind to me over the years, treating me as part of his family, and I wanted to help somehow. I began spending most of my free evenings at his house during my junior and senior years after work, doing little things like tidying up the kitchen and keeping him company. He was grateful for my generosity and teased me about feeling sorry for an old man like himself. He would smile down at me with his piercing blue eyes, and it caused my heart to flutter and skip a few beats every time he did. It wasn’t long before I started to look at Mr. Watkins — Greg as he preferred to be called — in a new light. I couldn’t believe I’d been oblivious to his handsome face and muscular body before, but he’d been like my dad for the past eight years and it had never occurred to me to view him any other way.
The crush I had developed for him awakened feelings in me that I never knew I had. There was a stirring sensation deep inside my belly any time I was near him, and I felt an intense sexual attraction towards him that I’d never had for any of the boys at school. Greg had rugged good looks, fine lines in the corners of his eyes that crinkled just right when he gave that impish little grin, and salt and pepper hair that I longed to run my fingers through. He took great care of his body and it showed.
I had been oblivious to these things before, but one day it all hit me like a ton of bricks. I knew I was in trouble when I found myself admiring the way he filled out a pair of jeans, my eyes roving slowly over the length of his strong body, lingering just long enough on his generous bulge when he wasn't looking to spark off fantasies that I could revisit later. He was incredibly gorgeous, which only made me want to be that much closer to him, in a very different way than I ever had before. I wanted to feel his skin on mine. I longed to run my hands over every curve of his tight muscles. I wanted to feel his tongue working the length of my body, from my toes to my lips, stopping long enough to feast on the important parts in between. I fantasized about him often, and those thoughts consumed more of my mind the longer they went on. I would leave his house each night wet between my legs, throbbing from within, eventually caving to my lust and masturbating wildly, the entire time imagining how it would feel to have Greg’s cock thrusting inside of me, rubbing my clit until I bubbled over the edge, and finally drifting off to sleep to dream about the man I had just come all over my sheets for.
Tonight I had it especially bad. When I got to Greg’s house, he was already outside taking a quick dip in the pool to cool off from the blistering August sun. It was the first time since I realized I had lustful urges towards this man that I’d seen him without his shirt. When he pulled himself up on the edge of the cement enclosure, my mouth watered as his biceps tightened, pulling the weight of his body up, giving me a full-on view of his taut stomach and wet, clingy swim trunks that outlined every inch of his manhood. I instantly moistened my panties and found myself blushing slightly from my naughty thoughts.
“Hey Cam! Want to jump in? The water feels great.”
Oh, god. Would I. “No thanks. I didn’t bring my suit anyway. I just thought I’d pop by and see if you needed any help with anything.”
He studied me for a second in my hip-hugging capris and snug tank, which showed off just enough of my toned midriff to be tempting. I had made a concerted effort to look especially hot today, and it was obvious he had noticed. He lingered briefly at my tits, which were full C’s and stood at attention without my bra, my nipples slightly erect from my constant state of arousal around him. I wasn’t playing fair, but I wanted to kick it up a notch in order gauge his reaction. Judging by his flushed face, I’d certainly made my point. He caught himself and looked away quickly before grabbing his towel to distract himself by drying off.
“I’m sorry, hon. I’ve got a few errands to run and then I’m calling it an early night.” He seemed to be hurrying me along, and that’s when I caught a glimpse of the swelling in his trunks when he brought his towel up to dry his hair.
Grinning, I waved goodbye and turned slowly, swaying my hips just a little more than usual as I walked away, making sure he had a nice shot of my panty-less ass.
“Gotcha” I whispered under my breath once I was far enough out of earshot.
When I got home that evening, I went straight to my room, locked my door and pulled my new vibrator from its hiding spot beside my bed. I had purchased my plaything in an attempt to satisfy my constant craving for Greg's cock inside of me. I wasn’t sure how well that was actually working, but it did manage to keep some of my insatiable horniness at bay, and Greg didn’t seem to notice a difference in how I was acting around him.