My Friend's Father

I'd had a reasonably late night the night before so I just naturally slept in in the morning. I finally did wake up and get up and I had a quick shower. Smelling coffee I wandered down to the kitchen, intending to grab a cup before getting dressed, wrapping a towel around my wet hair as I went.

I entered the kitchen and stopped dead in my tracks, taken by surprise. Instead of Melody, my flatmate, being there, there were two big men standing there. I just looked at them in shock and they looked back at me, smiling. At least, one man was smiling. The other was staring at me like a demented loon.

"Ah, Katrina, more commonly known as Kat," said the smiling man. "I'm Peter, Melody's father. We have met before. The idiot standing there is Simon, my brother and Melody's uncle."

"Ah, I didn't know anyone was here," I mumbled, somewhat confused, wondering where Melody was.

"Well, now you know. In case you're wondering Melody just nipped down to the shop to get some milk. She forgot to get it last night. Did you know that you forgot to get dressed?"

Hell and damnation! I'd totally forgotten that for some reason. The two men were treated to the sight of my face burning bright red and then they had a chance to observe my bottom as I bolted back to my bedroom.

I burst into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. It didn't slam. It bounced off something soft. Spinning around I saw that the demented loon had chased after me and was grinning so widely it was surprising his face didn't split.

"How nice," he said, reaching for me. "A bed where we can have some fun."

He shouldn't have reached. He left himself wide open to a kick in the testicles. He made a most peculiar sound and bent over at the waist. This placed his face in a nice position to receive a follow up kick, though I did turn my foot so the side of it connected. I didn't want to break my toes on his thick head.

That was all it took. Simon was a groaning heap on the floor, trying to protect his testicles and his face at the same time. I set a new record getting dressed and stormed back out to the kitchen. Peter was sitting at the table, drinking a cup of black coffee. It had to be black. Melody hadn't yet returned with the milk.

"Ah, Kat. I thought you'd be out about now. You didn't kill him did you?"

That's all he had to say?

"He was going to, to. . ." My voice broke off. I was going into shock.

"Oh, I don't think he would have forced you but he is a bit of a fool. He might have taken your little slip to be an invitation. What did you do to him?"

"I kicked him in the balls and then kicked him in the face," I said vindictively.

"How enterprising of you," said Peter. "I didn't know a kick in the balls was part of Krav Maga training."

I could feel my face going red.

"It's not," I mumbled. "I just panicked, I guess."

"Next time, if there is a next time, try not to panic. It's counter-productive. Stay calm and remember your training. I suggest you discuss what happened with your teacher and see if he has any suggestions that will help you keep calm."

His brother had tried to attack me and I'd beaten him up and all Peter had to say was a criticism of how I handled things? And what did he know about my Krav Maga, anyway. I asked him.

"How did you know I do Krav Maga training?"

"Melody told me. She says you're quite good at it."

At that point Simon came staggering into the kitchen, swearing. He was walking crouched over and it looked to me that he was going to have a couple of black eyes. It seemed my side-kick had scored high on the bridge of his nose.

"You're an idiot, Simon," snapped Peter. "Serves you right for scaring the girl. Go and sit in the car. I suspect Kat would just as soon not have you in the house."

Simon muttered something crude and departed, still hunched over.

"Don't worry about him," Peter advised me. "I'll swing past the doctor on the way home and get him checked out. He'll probably explain it was the fault of a vicious door."

I just stood there looking at him, feeling very confused. He pushed the remains of his coffee to one side and reached for my arm.

"Sit down for a few moments," he said gently. "You're going into shock. Just relax, breathe deeply, and let it all flow out."

I just let him pull me down until I was seated and he put his arms around me, holding me. I just concentrated on breathing deeply and steadily, doing a relaxation exercise. After a few moments I found myself getting it all together, relaxing even more. Then I realised where I was and my relaxation started to tense up again.

I was sitting on Peter's lap and his arms were around me. One of his hands was rubbing my back. I'll admit I was feeling safe and secure like this, but still. I started to push myself away from him, meaning to stand up, and his arms tightened around me.

"Don't be silly," he said, his voice flowing softly over me like warm honey. Honestly, his voice seemed to just caress me, calming me down. "Just sit there a little longer. You'll be fine."

So I relaxed, content to feel secure for a little longer, letting Peter idly rub my back for me. After a few minutes something struck me as being subtly wrong but I felt too comfortable for it to worry me. Another couple of minutes and I'd have to get up but right now I didn't want to move.

Boy, my eyes sure opened wide when I worked out what was troubling me. Peter's hand wasn't rubbing my back anymore. It was lightly massaging my breast. Once again it was a case of that feels nice, but still. And on top of that his hand was stroking my leg, and getting far too close to places it shouldn't.

I hastily pushed myself up and away from him, knowing that I was blushing. Before either of us could say anything the door burst open and Melody was there with some milk.

"What happened to Uncle Simon?" she asked. "He's sitting in the car and looking funny. I think he's got a black eye."

"A savage door attacked him," Peter said calmly. "You know how clumsy he gets at times."

I didn't say anything, being too busy filling the electric jug. I wanted, I needed, coffee.

I had my coffee and ignored Peter. OK, he might have held me and calmed me down a little when I was upset but it was his fault I was upset in the first place. He should have stopped Simon following me, even if he did think I could look after myself. He should also have warned me he was here so I wouldn't traipse out into the kitchen in that state of undress. He certainly shouldn't have sat there looking at me and smiling. Smiling? He was probably laughing, the unfeeling brute. Most of all he shouldn't have been stroking my breast the way he did. I could still feel his hand touching me there.

I finished my coffee and went back to my room, not coming out until he was gone.

Later Melody told me her father would be back the next day. He had some of her mother's things that he thought she might like. I just nodded and dismissed the subject. I had no intention of even thinking about that man.

I slept in a little the next morning, but only a little. Hopping out of bed I wandered down to the kitchen for some coffee. For some reason the previous day's memories were especially vivid just then and I found myself checking to make sure that I still had my pyjamas on. Not only did I have them on but they were flannelette, what with the nights being a little on the cool side. Genuine passion killers, these pyjamas.

I made my coffee, reading a note from Melody while waiting for the kettle. 'Gone shopping. If Dad comes while I'm gone tell him to dump the stuff on my bed. If you weren't so lazy you could have come shopping with me.' True, that, but shopping was a lot more fun when you had some money. Right now I had none to spare. Not that that had ever stopped me when there was something I just had to have.

I just sat there and sucked up my coffee. I really should have just gulped it down and gone and got dressed but I just didn't feel in the mood to. For some reason I just wanted to sit and sulk, even if I didn't know what I was sulking over, so that's what I did.

I was still sitting there holding an empty mug and telling myself I really had to go and get dressed when the doorbell rang. As soon as I heard it I just knew it would be that man. Still, one never knew. I might be lucky and find the Sheriff there with a warrant for my arrest. I'm not sure what I'd be arrested for, but it would get me out of the house for a while.

It was Peter. Of course it was Peter. Who else would it be? Certainly not a nice policeman. They're never there when you want one.

I grunted something that might have been mistaken for good morning if the listener was in a generous mood.

"Melody said to leave it on her bed," I said, jerking my thumb towards her room. With that I retreated to the kitchen and my empty coffee cup. Maybe a second cup would get me going, I thought, as I switched the kettle back on.

I was just pouring my coffee when Peter strolled into the kitchen.

"Why, yes, I would enjoy some coffee," he said casually. "Thank you for thinking of me."

I didn't say anything, just reaching for a clean mug and pouring him some coffee.

"Taking it easy this morning, are we?" he suggested, and I just knew he was referring to the fact that I was still in pyjamas.

"Yes," I said, leaving the bare word just sitting there.

"Hm. I suspect I should have worn a fur coat this morning," Peter commented and I was like, say what? Not that I was going to ask what he meant.

"Seeing as how you're asking," he went on, ignoring my silence, "it's to counteract the deep freeze treatment I'm getting."

"Excuse me?" I asked, all innocence, not knowing what on earth he might be talking about.

"You're mad at me for some reason and are letting me know it."

"I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about," I told him, all haughty pride at this point.

"The trouble is," he went on, "I can't see any reason why you'd be mad at me. It can't be because you displayed your lovely self to me yesterday."

"I did no such thing," I yelled, my face hot.

"And it can't be because of that idiot Simon, as you handled him admirably."

"I shouldn't have had to handle him," I pointed out.

"True, but if I'd interfered you'd have complained about that as you were quite capable of looking after yourself."

I had to admit he was right on that point.

"Surely you're not mad because I rubbed your back while you were feeling a little stressed?" he asked.

"No." I really snapped that negative out. He knew damn well where his hands had wandered after I'd calmed down a little.

"Oh, I get it," he said, as though announcing a great discovery. "You're mad at me because Melody came home before I could properly worship these."

I barely had time to register what he was doing when I found the buttons to my top were undone and his hands were on my breasts, starting to gently massage them.

I was looking down at his hands covering me, mouth open in shock.

"You get your hands away from there," I managed to gasp out and he smiled.

"No problem, but we don't need to rush things, you know," he said, his hands dropping away and leaving my breasts exposed to the world. Well, exposed to Peter, anyway, as the rest of the world wasn't looking, but he certainly was.

For that matter I guess I was looking at them as well, which is why I missed his hands settling upon my waist. Not that that was a problem. I guess I had no problem per se in him touching my waist. Shows how well I was thinking. His hands promptly moved downwards, over my hips and down my thighs. That would have been fine if he hadn't taken my pyjama trousers with him, leaving me standing there effectively butt naked. Well, certainly butt naked, as the rear of my pyjama top didn't go that far down.

"What do you think you're doing?" I demanded, my hands flapping about, not knowing what to do first. Cover myself, pull up my pyjama trousers, do up my top, slap him? So many things to do and I only had two hands.

"I'm helping you get undressed," he calmly told me. "I want to see what I saw yesterday, but up close and personal this time. Then I want to make love to you."

"Well you can't," I yelled. "I stopped Simon. What makes you think I can't stop you?"

In answer his hands closed over my breasts again and resumed rubbing them, his thumbs seeming to latch onto my nipples and teasing them.

"I'm sure you can," he agreed amiably. With that one of his hands dropped down. My eyes opened a lot wider when it brushed over my mons and closed over me very intimately.

It is easy to kick someone in the genitalia when they're coming at you with evil intentions. It was somewhat harder to do it when the person is smiling at you in a friendly manner even if he was doing things to your body that he shouldn't be doing. He was wide open and not even trying to prevent me attacking him. What do you do in a case like this? I had no idea and I just stood there, saying, "But, but," in a feeble voice while he touched me.

I was absolutely pathetic, just standing there while he touched me. You'll note that I didn't say groped and that is because there was no groping involved. Groping insinuates you don't know what you're doing and you're feeling your way. Peter knew exactly what he was doing and it wasn't his way he was feeling.

Did I say I was standing there? How silly of me. I was leaning back against the table, using that to support me because I don't think my legs would have. I was a mass of nerves or maybe a nervous mess would be more accurate. Peter's hands danced around my body and his mouth wasn't hesitant about doing its own touching and tasting. By the time he took a step back my breasts were damp from his tongue and his fingers were damp from me.

I just continued leaning back, staring at him a little dazedly, thinking that was as far as he was going. At least, I thought that until I realised he was undoing his belt. I watched, eyes wide, as he dropped his trousers and he displayed just how thoroughly he was going to be touching me.

I was shaking my head slowly, knowing damn well that he would ignore it. If I didn't want to get fucked I was going to have to take a firm stance. I was still trying to determine what sort of firm stance I could take when his cock started pressing into me, easily pushing past my lips and driving deeper.

So much for a firm stance. What I had was a rock-hard shaft demonstrating its mastery over me. Peter simply pushed home, driving fully into me with me just watching it happen. His hands came up and captured my breasts again and then he got down to serious business.

His hands roughly rubbed my breasts while his cock seemed to simply surge into me. It was like the inexorable action of the ocean, a giant wave rushing into me and then softly retreating before surging forth once more. Each surge wore away at my defences, arousing me, driving me before it, helpless to resist.

He just kept going and going. Like the tide, he wasn't in a hurry, but he was steadily washing away any inhibitions I may have had, urging me to respond, to move with him, to be carried away in a flood of feeling.

I was totally lost, strange feelings building up inside me, urging me onwards, demanding more of me. The more I gave the more I felt, excitement and expectations washing through me, thrilling me, preparing me.

I think I actually screamed when I climaxed, hanging onto him with everything I had, knowing I was dying and rejoicing in it.

I gathered my wits about me as I felt him withdraw, leaving me both satisfied and missing him.

"Absolutely adorable," he said softly, his eyes ran over me.

With that he dropped a hard kiss on my lips and left, leaving me standing in the kitchen, pyjama trousers around my ankles and my top flapping open, showing my everything to everyone.

The everyone who could see me happened to be Melody who wandered in before I thought to straighten myself up. She looked at me thoughtfully.

"Was my dad just here?" she asked, and I just nodded.

She just nodded thoughtfully and didn't say anything else. I beat it to the bathroom, wanting a shower before I got dressed.