For a moment she thought he stopped breathing. Nothing moved but the throbbing, vein-popping male pipe. It wasn't difficult to imagine the feeling this towering missile would stir in her cunt, she thought, feeling a sudden flush of girl-juice release and dampen her jeans. A twat-splitting spike, she decided with great envy, then sipped at the giant straw to remove another crop of cream.
It wasn't that Jimmy Ryan didn't know what to do or how to do it – it was fear of losing his job and getting thrown in jail that prevented him from doing it. He couldn't imagine a beautiful young girl like this just seducing him if she didn't have some trick up her sleeve. Something he'd regret later. So he remained motionless; arms limp from the overpowering urgency that pulsed in his cock, still holding a wrench in one hand, desperately trying to stop the pounding sensation in his balls. But seeing her lips on his prick made it impossible to contain the pumping motion that could only mean an explosion was near. There was no stopping the climax, which would put an end to the enjoyment of it all. Even now the jerking, pumping sensations in his cock and balls were killing the delicious feeling of her lips on his tender sensitive skin.
Penny didn't try to hide the enjoyment she was getting from his awkward behavior. She made a point of smiling up at his popping eyes as she stretched her full, red lips over the ballooning head of his ultra-sensitive probe. Made it perfectly clear that she fully enjoyed the taste and smell of it too. Sucked it and milked it with her tongue, until it started to heave. Then she swallowed hard as he came in her mouth, licking it and going back for more, until she drained every last drop from him. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" she asked, straightening up and licking her lips.
"No, it wasn't," he sighed.
She did an about-face and walked out of the bathroom, leaving him standing there dumbfounded. But she felt proud of herself for resisting the real urge that longed to place that spear between her legs and sink its full length into the ready-made wound.
"I've plugged up the leak," he announced on the way to the door. "I hope you'll call me again. I mean, if you need me… that is, if anything needs pluggin'."
As the door closed Penny couldn't help laughing out loud at the bashful repairman's awkwardness. But it was soon replaced by a more serious thought… Paul Lagarde. Why hadn't he called, she wondered. She tried to push the thought from her mind, but it refused to leave. She couldn't stop wondering if he would ever call again, or if he'd been offended by her constant nagging about his sex activities on the island.
By Thursday of that week, Penny was depressed about everything; Paul, the way she behaved during her weekend with him – obviously the reason he didn't bother calling anymore – and the hopeless situation of not being able to make amends. And too, her loneliness in general. There didn't seem to be anything that interested her anymore, she concluded.
But she was snapped out of the low spirits by the sound of the doorbell. She rushed to answer it, wondering who it could be at four in the afternoon, not that it mattered. She'd be happy to see anyone at this point.
"Daddy!" she screeched at the sight of her handsome, immaculately dressed father standing in the hall.
"Hello, Penny. Just thought I'd stop by to see you," he said. "I have a dinner engagement at seven, and thought I'd just spend some time with you."
"Come in," Penny said happily. "I was just getting the blues for want of a friendly face… and – bingo! – the greatest of them all shows up." With that she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a big kiss and hug.
It was the first time her father had ever visited her apartment and she flitted around the place, trying to make him comfortable. She only wished now that she hadn't changed from the cute outfit she had worn to the office that day. At least not to the faded old jeans and too tight sweater. Not with such a distinguished guest, she thought to herself.
They had a drink and chatted about Steve and his new girl friend. Penny was on one end of the couch with her legs tucked under her, while her father sat at the other end in a much less relaxed fashion. But then she never did remember him sitting in anything but a proper fashion. Or for that matter, doing anything that wasn't proper.
Over the second drink they talked about the family in general; what was happening at home and the latest word from Penny's mother, who was on another vacation, in the Bahamas this time.
"I guess you must get pretty lonesome too," Penny said as she poured another drink for them. "What with Mother away so much."
"You'll never know how lonesome I've been all these years," he answered sadly.
It seemed appropriate, after placing his Scotch and water on the coffee table, to give her father a kiss. Something to let him know she understood.
Charles P. Kingston didn't know how to relax – how to let himself go. He just sat stiffly in his corner of the couch and allowed his daughter to kiss him. But inside he was tormented by his inability to express his own love for her. He wanted to grab her and kiss her so badly. But he did nothing. The thoughts that had plagued him for weeks – how he wanted her body again – weighed heavily on his conscience. His guilt feelings kept him from responding now, when it would have been so very natural. He realized, in these last few weeks, that the mistresses he had over the years meant nothing. Just objects that were purchased. But he couldn't buy his daughter.
After she kissed her father, Penny hugged him, pressing her cheek against his. It was a little awkward, kneeling on the couch and trying to keep her balance while she gave him the affectionate hug. She had no idea what her father was thinking or how much he wanted what she had given him before. And his stiff – always proper – mannerism, made it impossible to imagine that sex was the object of his visit.
In a gesture to show Penny that he appreciated her understanding, he awkwardly reached his arm round her for a little return squeeze. His hand fell on the bare skin of her lower back, where her sweater rode up and jeans slid down, exposing an area just above the rise of her buttocks. The touch of her skin sent a flash of fire through his head. But once committed, he left his hand there for the embrace. As Penny moved back, sitting on her legs again, his hand stayed on the soft skin, slipping down a little to where her rump began to rise.
Penny was hardly aware of his hand, giving it very little attention at this point. Cheering him up seemed to be the only thing that was important. "Let's just get drunk, and to hell with your dinner engagement," Penny offered.
"Sounds like a damn good idea." He laughed, knowing inside he couldn't – or wouldn't do it, but wishing he could.
Penny leaned over for her drink and her father's hand slid down a little farther. His fingers were just touching the point where the mounds of ass-flesh began to swell and separate. The base of her spine, where one finger touched the sensitive skin of the crack. She was suddenly aware of his hand. But not sure what it meant. She pretended not to notice when she sat back on her legs. When her father didn't make a move to take his hand away, she realized that he knew what was happening. It occurred to her that he must be going through hell, sitting there, not knowing what he should do, and trying to make it all seem accidental.
"Mmmmm…" she cooed, bending toward him again, "but we've got each other to chase away the loneliness."