My Daughter's Friend

Do I object to my daughter playing music? No, I don't.

Do I object to my daughter and her friends playing loud music? No, I don't.

Do I object to my daughter and her friends playing music so loud that the whole house shakes? Music where the bass is so deep and thundering that the vibration makes cars going past shiver and shake, nearly blowing them off the road? As a matter of fact, yes, I do.

I got home and the house was literally shaking with the sound. Thank god the neighbours were still at work or they'd be at the door with hatchets in their hands, intending to cut the sound off at the source.

I barged up to my daughter's room, banged on the door, and stuck my head inside. No, I didn't wait for an answer. I very much doubt that they even heard my knocking. Dianne did notice the movement when the door opened and my head appeared. I made a fast throat-cutting gesture and she reached over and killed the sound. Dianne and Heather, Dianne's friend, looked at me, enquiry on their faces.

"You have a choice," I told them, speaking gently. "You can turn the music down a little or you can have your stereo system broken into itty bitty pieces, which I will proceed to throw at you."

The two young ladies looked at each other and shrugged.

"We'll turn it down a bit," Dianne assured me.

"You will turn it down a lot," I assured her. "Otherwise I will come back and beat the pair of you so hard you'll be sitting on cushions for a week."

This threat was met with derisive laughter, but they did turn the music down to a dull roar. That I could tolerate.

A little later I was sitting in the kitchen with some coffee when Dianne came sailing in.

"Just running down to the shop," she told me, heading through the kitchen and out the back door. The music was still booming away so I assumed that Heather was still there. This assumption was proved correct when she wandered out a few minutes later to grab a drink out of the fridge.

She stood there, looking at me thoughtfully.

"You wouldn't really beat Dianne, would you," she suddenly asked me.

I gave her a cold look.

"Not for noisy music," I admitted. "Probably not at all. She is eighteen and an adult so I tend to let her go her own way where possible. Still, some lines need to be drawn. You, on the other hand, I would beat quite happily."

"Me?" she said indignantly. "I'm not your daughter."

"True," I granted. "But you are eighteen and therefore of age, so I could beat you without your parents complaining. Not being my daughter is actually an incentive and makes the whole thing more interesting."

The look on her face was priceless. She had no idea how to respond to my comment. She opened her mouth a couple of times, but was just lost for words. She contented herself with giving me the evil eye.

"You don't look as though you believe me," I said, talking quietly while I arose from my chair. I rounded the table and strolled up to her, pulled another chair out and sat on it.

"Let me elaborate," I told her. Moving deftly I removed her drink from her hand and put it on the table, at the same time pulling on her arm so she stumbled forward and finished up across my lap.

"Not being my daughter, I can do this," I told her, flipping her dress up and away from her bottom, and giving said bottom a light spank. "In addition, being of age I can do this, as well." I very rapidly peeled her panties down, exposing her bottom. "It's much more fun delivering a spanking like this," I assured her, dropping another light spank on her now bare bottom.

She was spluttering and trying to tell me where I got off, her hands frantically trying to cover her bottom.

"How could you?" she squealed. "You let me up."

"In a moment. Just wait a second. What really makes it interesting is that I can deliver part of the spanking like this."

I angled my hand as I slapped down, my hand landing very neatly along her mound, giving her a nice friendly slap. I left my hand resting there while she recovered from her shock.

"I'm sure you can now understand that you'd be my spankee of choice."

She took a big shuddering breath and I just knew she wanted to scream so I swung her back to her feet. Her face was flushed and she was glaring at me, while I simply smiled at her.

"I'm glad we had this little chat," I said. "It was amusing and enlightening. We'll have to do it again sometime when Dianne is not expected home. I feel it could become interesting."

She still didn't seem to know what to say so I winked at her.

"One thing," I said, lifting up the front of her dress. "I like a nice smooth mons. Do you think you could attend to that before I see you again." To demonstrate the area I meant I was gently rubbing my fingers through the short curls that she had.

She took a hurried step back away from my hand, her dress dropping back into position. Face burning she hastily pulled up her panties, glaring at me the entire while.

Grabbing her drink off the table she turned to stalk out of the room, ignoring the crude male sitting at the table.

"Ah, Heather," I said, "before you go."

She turned and looked little daggers at me.

"Dianne has a date tonight. I'll be home all alone."

She almost bolted from the room. A few minutes later Dianna returned and that was the last I saw of the pair of them for several hours.

Around dinner time I told the girls that I was not in the mood to cook and asked if they fancied pizza for dinner. They most certainly did and I ordered and served pizza.

After dinner the girls vanished again, presumably to get ready for their dates. Well, I assumed that was what Dianne was doing. I had no idea if Heather had a date or if she'd just wander off home when Dianne left.

Dianne's current boyfriend rolled up, was given the normal fatherly evil-eye, and he and Dianne departed. Dianne had one last word with me before she left.

"Oh, dad, I forgot to tell you. Heather is staying with us for the weekend. Don't worry. She'll keep out of your way."

Heather managed that quite nicely by retiring to Dianne's room and not putting her nose out. I was watching the game on TV and it was about half-time when Heather finally showed. She came into the front room wearing pyjamas, nice clinging silky pyjamas that were clinging in all the right places.

"I'm going to bed early," she told me. "Just stuck my head in to say goodnight."

"Oh, right, goodnight," I said. "Ah, hold it for a moment before you go."

I stood up, stretched, and strolled over to where Heather was standing.

"If you'll excuse me for a moment I find I'm curious about something."

I reached out and pulled the waistband of her pyjamas towards me, slipping my other hand in between her pyjamas and her tummy, sliding down towards her mons. A mons that was suspiciously smooth.

I released and took a step back, smiling at her embarrassment.

"Show me," I said softly.

For a moment I thought she was going to. Her hands sort of clutched at her waist and started pushing, but then she gave a little gasp and snatched them away, putting them firmly behind her back.

"Pity. So what were you most curious about? What it would be like to be spanked or what would follow on from the spanking?"

"Neither. I didn't even consider anything like that. I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about a smoothness that exists where once were curls. I'm wondering just how curious you really are. I'm suspecting that you're not going to admit to anything, are you?"

She was certainly shaking her head to indicate no, but she wasn't trying to beat a retreat. I sighed.

"I guess I'll just have to investigate and find out for myself."

I caught her by the elbow and steered her into the room, heading over to the couch. She pulled back a little and dragged her feet, but she came along.

"Listen," she said. "I know what you're thinking and it's not like that at all."

"Oh. Ah, what am I thinking?"

She started to tell me but wound up stuttering and fudging and not saying anything.

"Seeing you're not sure, how about I just fumble along and see if I can work out your intentions," I suggested.

I dropped down onto the couch and, seeing I was still holding her arm, so did Heather. The difference is that I landed in a sitting position while she landed face down across my lap. I promptly moved a hand to her back to hold her there and a hand to her bottom because I liked having my hand on her bottom.

"If I remember correctly, we were discussing the advantages of you not being my daughter. Something about being able to flip your dress up out of the way. Ah, you don't seem to be wearing a dress so I'll have to make do."

I peeled her pyjamas down, pushing them down towards her knees. From there my hand was back on her bottom, idly rubbing it.

"Um, it seems to be that we then went on to how I might lower your panties. It seems I can't do that now because you appear to have forgotten to wear any."

I demonstrated her lack of panties by rubbing her backside, my hand just naturally following her curves down and between her legs, her reaction to my touch showing that she was feeling she should be wearing panties. Or a chastity belt.

"I have to admit that this lack of panties gives me seriously to think. Does it mean you might have forgotten other articles of clothing?"

The hand resting on her back moved under her pyjama top, finding only a smooth back. Moving sidewards and under her I found her breasts, deliciously unhampered by any extraneous items such as a bra. My hand caressed her breast.

"If you don't mind?" she gasped.

"I don't," I assured her. "I really don't. But you're right. This is not giving you a sample of a spanking, is it? Unless you want me to forego the spanking?"

"No," she gasped out, and that left me in a quandary.

Two question but only one answer. Was she agreeing that what I was doing wasn't the expected spanking or did it mean she didn't want to forego the spanking? It would have been a little awkward to ask for clarification so I decided to go with the spanking.

I brought my hand down smartly on her bottom. Not a bruising blow, more of a stinging slap. She certainly felt it but no harm done. I promptly delivered another fast spank to her other cheek as her protests started.

There seemed to a theme to those protests. They were along the line of how could you, it's not fair, I haven't done anything. What seemed to be missing were the words no and stop, so I continued on.

I hadn't forgotten that in the sample I'd provided I'd spanked first one cheek, then the other, then the 'cheeks' between her legs. It seemed to me that it would only be appropriate to do the same this time. My next slap landed neatly on her mound, my cupped hand covering it nicely. Her protests seemed to be swallowed by a horrified gasp.

Whatever protests that Heather wanted to make were now incoherent splutters, not helped by the fact that the spanking continued with her pudenda getting its fair share of stinging little slaps. After a while, deciding her bottom had been warmed enough, I started concentrating on her mound.

I rained a series of fast smarting slaps to her pudenda, keeping a quick pitter-patter of hand on flesh. For some reason Heather now found reason to query this.

"What the hell are you doing?" she almost screamed at me.

"Just finishing off," I said glibly. "Just bear with me for a little longer."

She was twisting and squirming now, trying to avoid the punishment, but not very successfully. Suddenly she seemed to just freeze up and then gave a scream of shock as she started shaking, an unexpected climax tearing into her. Unexpected by her, I might point out, not unexpected by me.

When she came down from her climax I was rubbing both her breast and her pussy, keeping her nicely warmed up.

"What the hell?" she mumbled.

"An unfortunate side-effect of getting spanked as an adult," I sighed, "especially if the person doing the spanking is a little careless. It appears I was. Not a problem, though. I'll make it up to you."

I helped her back onto her feet, facing me. A foot on her pyjamas pushed them down to her ankles so she could step out of them while I lifted her top up and off. She was flushed and breathing hard and looking very aroused. It took me about half a second to have my trousers undone and pushed down.

Hand around her, clasping her bottom, I drew her closer. She was looking down at my erection and knew exactly what I wanted her to do. She climbed onto the couch straddling me, kneeling over me with my cock pressed between her legs. She stopped breathing hard by the simple expedient of biting her lip and holding her breath.

Still holding her breath she sank slowly down. I could feel my cock come into contact with her lips. She gave a little wriggle to make sure it was in the right place and then continued pressing down. She gave a deep shuddering inhalation as she felt me pushing up into her, finally breathing reasonably normally as she continued to transfix herself on my waiting staff.

When she was comfortably settled she looked at me and seemed to give a little start. A flash of confusion seemed to cross her face. I think she was suddenly having trouble understanding what she'd just done. Too late for second thoughts I thought as I gently pressed up against her.

That little bit of pressure certainly seemed to clear up any confusion she might have had. She pressed against my pressure, relaxing when I did. After a few more gentle pressing together she started to get with the action. When she relaxed she also pulled away from me, sliding up my cock and happily returning when I thrust up against her again.

It wasn't long before she was bouncing merrily on my lap, rubbing her breasts against my hands at the same time. Or maybe it was my hands rubbing against her breasts. Whichever it was she was being pleasured and was truly appreciating it.

Sometimes you do yourself a dis-service. The way I was feeling I wanted to roll over, pin her to the couch, and drive into her hotly and hungrily, really working her lovely body over. As it was I felt compelled to let her handle things her way and so I did, watching her enjoy herself as she pleasured herself with me. My one consolation was the fact that the night was still young and that I'd get my turn at being master of the arts. Okay, I'll admit that the feel of her sliding up and down my cock was another consolation, and quite a big one at that.

She twisted and gyrated on me. I'd realised she wasn't a virgin when she'd jumped so enthusiastically onto me but, hell's bells, where did she learn to do what she was doing? I was willing to swear that a trained courtesan couldn't do as well. I guess natural talent just comes out on some people.

She bounced and I thrust upwards and sweated.

All in all it was a delightful experience. While I didn't have much control over what was happening, that was by choice. Sometimes it's good to take a back seat. I think the hardest thing I had to do was in making sure I didn't explode before Heather was ready.

When it looked as though Heather was reaching the end of her run I started adding a little extra when I pushed up, making our coming together that much faster and harder. She started gasping loudly and then climaxed, almost crushing my testicles she landed on me so hard. I was well and truly ready by that stage, only too willing to let my own little climax rip.

Heather just slumped against me, her head resting on my chest.

"Oh my god," she said. "How could you do that to me? I can't believe it happened."

How could I do it to HER? Excuse me, who was on top, jumping up and down?

Say that to her? Not a chance in hell.

"I'll tell you what," I said in a nice soothing voice. "I'll take you along to the bathroom and help you have a nice relaxing shower. After that I'll pat you dry with one of my big fluffy towels. When you're all nice and clean and dry I'll take you along to me bedroom and try to convince you that it really did happen. It may take a couple of tries but I'm sure I'll be able to persuade you in the end."

I helped her to her feet, moving in the direction of the bathroom, talking all the while. This was shaping up to be an interesting evening.