Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
“Oh God!…..oh Fuck!…..Mr Jones….oh…..Mr Jones!”
The whole of my body convulsed, the muscles in my thighs shivered, my pussy gripped his cock as it pumped its heat inside me. I could feel jerk after jerk ejaculating more and more spunk deep into me.
Mr Jones’s hot breath came in pants above me. Through narrow eyelids I saw his face straining, as he emptied himself, his body pressing down between my legs.
Suddenly I was thinking what the hell would Emily say if she knew her dad had just fucked me? My best friend, and here I was with my skirt around my waist, spread out on her sofa. I really was a bad girl!
“Oh fuck, Susi, you shouldn’t have made me do that, what the fuck have we done? Oh god, why did we actually do it?”
Mr Jones was hurriedly pulling up his trousers, looking down at me, regretting his weakness, but I knew I’d achieved what I’d wanted.
Emily’s dad had always flirted a bit, and in the week before, when myself and Emily had shared our eighteenth birthday celebrations I’d seen something that sparked this adventure off.
Emily and I had been best friends all through secondary school, in fact we were known as the ‘terrible twins.’ We went everywhere together, getting into scrapes, and laughing about it afterwards. Indeed we had both lost our ‘innocence’ to the same boy on a school trip together. Both of us were conscious of being attractive, and we were constantly using that to our advantage.
I’d also been slightly envious of Emily having a dad. Mine had walked out years ago, and mum had been fortunate enough to keep the house, and have a good job as a lawyer.
And because our birthdays were just a week apart, the joint party had become the formal celebrations of both of us becoming eighteen, with some friends and our families gathering at Emily’s house on the Sunday lunchtime.
It seemed most of the young people there were taking selfies, or pics of other guests, me included.
And that was how it all began.
At home that evening I’d looked through maybe a hundred photos I’d taken that lunchtime and afternoon. Because I was now old enough officially to drink alcohol a lot of the shots I’d taken were very average, I’d been firing off in all directions. However, I had to do a double take of one shot. It was of a group of adults chatting, and with their backs to me were my mum and Emily’s dad, Chris Jones.
What was surprising was that Mr Jones had his hand placed on my mum’s ass! There was no doubt, pulling a close up image showed his hand actually squeezing my mum’s left buttock.
“Wow,” I thought, was this just a grope, or was there something going on? Knowing his flirty nature, I was already hatching a naughty plan.
After looking through the rest of my pics, I could find no more clues, but a wickedness had crept into my thoughts.
The idea of tempting Emily’s dad, grew in my bahis firmaları mind over the next couple of days, even to the extent of me masturbating in bed at night. Biting the duvet when I came was a regular thing with mum in the next bedroom, and imagining Chris Jones fucking both her and me, made me horny as hell.
And the fantasy became reality.
The excuse was that I needed to borrow a book from Emily. Knowing that she was visiting her aunt with her mum, I’d messaged her to ask if I could pop in to her house to collect it, as I was writing a piece of work where it would be a real help. Her dad always worked from home on Fridays so when I rang the bell, he was expecting me and had the book ready.
“Hi Susi, Emily just messaged to tell me where the book was, I’m afraid I had to venture into her room to fetch it……oh my god, it’s another world,” he chuckled.
I’d dressed fairly provocatively that day, showing some cleavage, I’ve got quite large breasts, my skirt was above the knee, and I’d actually gone ‘commando’ which raised my sense of excitement.
Opening the door wider he added, “Come on in, I was just looking through my photos from the party, would you like a coffee?” I saw him take a long look at my boobs as I stepped inside.
His laptop was open at his desk in the lounge/diner. Gesturing, he said, “Take a look Susi, there are few of you and Emily, you want a coffee?”
“Yes please,” I replied, and went over and sat down in front of his laptop. Immediately the first few shots were of formally posed groups, mainly relatives, and then one or two of obviously slightly inebriated friends, with weird faces and lots of tongues poking out.
When the images rolled around for a second time I jumped out of that folder and saw a folder called ‘Mindy’ For a split second the reference struck a chord, my mum’s nickname was Mindy, and as soon as I highlighted the folder, I knew I’d opened a can of worms.
There were four images, two of them of mum in a basque with stockings and suspenders, and then two of her naked. All of them were on her bed in her bedroom.
As Mr Jones brought the coffee to me, he saw what was on the screen. I spun round on the office chair to see him frozen, horrified, the blood draining from his face.
“You and mum are having an affair then?”
Stumbling over his words he stuttered, “Err…..well…..er…..yes, but it’s only been going on for a few weeks….oh my god…..I’m sorry…..will you tell Emily, if you do?………..”
His words petered out as he put the coffee down, and reached over to close the laptop.
I stood up, facing him, and looked him in the eye mischievously.
“That depends Mr Jones, I guess I could say it’s mum’s business who she sleeps with, but I always guessed you were a guy who liked women.”
He looked puzzled, and his expression relaxed a bit, but only for a kaçak iddaa second. I was standing right up close to him, and there was just a fleeting glance down at my cleavage.
“You like flirting with me don’t you?”
He blushed and again looked flustered. I knew that this was my chance to carry out my promise to myself.
Before he could answer, I pressed my hand against his crotch.
“Susi! what are you doing,” he took a step backwards, and grabbed my wrist. I, in turn, stepped closer again, and pressed my other hand back on his crotch. When he backed off again, I followed his move.
“Susi, stop it, this is not right.”
“So it’s ok to fuck my mum, but you don’t want Emily, or your wife to know. I think there may be a little trade off here.”
My hand was now feeling a reaction underneath Mr Jones’s trousers.
“That’s blackmail Susi, stop it…..look your Emily’s age…..for god’s sake, stop it.”
But I was in the ascendancy, I could feel his cock getting harder as I now squeezed it gently.
Mr Jones was now backed up against the sofa. The final surrender came when I took his hand and placed it up, under my skirt, and directly onto my pussy. I was sumptuously wet! With a soft groan, Mr Jones’s fingers slid between my moist, silky labia.
“Oh god Susi, forgive me.”
Mr Jones, turned me round, and in one movement unbuckled his belt, unzipped himself, and pressed me on my back onto the sofa.
I was able to just reach down between us, and guide him inside me, which brought a gasp from both of us. I had got my way.
Mr Jones kept saying “sorry” over and over again. It must have brought huge guilt to him, seeing his daughter’s best friend splayed openly on his lounge sofa, wantonly having given herself to him.
“You’re not going to say anything?” Now Mr Jones was almost shaking with nerves. “I could lose everything, my marriage, my home, even my job, please don’t tell……and fuck!….you might be pregnant…..oh god…oh god!”
I got up, smoothing down my skirt, “Don’t worry Mr Jones, I’m on the pill, you’re ok.” As I said it, I began to feel his spunk slowly seeping from my pussy. “It’s our secret, have no fear, but you need to be careful if you’re going to carry on fucking my mother!”
For a few seconds Mr Jones looked pensive.
“Thank you Susi, thank you, bless you.”
And then I added, “I’ll take the book, but don’t think this was just a one off!”
Before there was any reply, I was out of the front door, leaving a very confused Mr Jones behind.
I was looking at my mother in a different light now. Over the next few days I did sneak into her room and rummage through her wardrobe and drawers, and found the basque she’d been wearing in the photo. I also found other sexy lingerie, and two vibrators.
I also made Mr Jones feel enormously awkward when I visited Emily a couple of days kaçak bahis later. I made a great point of asking him “how he was?” watching him avoid eye contact with me, and him hurrying out of the room as soon as he could.
Both Emily and I carried on as normal. We still had our exam results to come, but the pressure of studying was off. I guess that was reflected in the night when she seemed to catch my naughty mood.
I wasn’t with her, but she had gone with her parents to a formal dinner in a hotel in town. It was something to do with Mr Jones’s work, and she went along with the hope of getting some work experience before getting her place at uni.
When I saw her the next day she was full of it. Somehow she had managed to get ‘chatted up’ by her dad’s boss. She said that he’d spent the whole evening playing footsie with her under the table, and that she’d reciprocated just for fun, and finally, he gave her his business card promising her some work experience. However on the reverse was written, ‘Use this number, text me 07*******66.’
“Have you text him yet? What’s he like?” This was big, the potential for mischief was huge.
Laughing and giggling, I asked again, “Did you fancy him, how old is he?”
“Hang on,” Emily was smiling her broad, naughty smile. “He’s sixty three, he’s married with a grand daughter our age! He’s a randy old sod, but he’s so funny.”
“So will you text him? Go on, do it now, I dare you.”
Suddenly we became conspiratorial, in our most naughty mood.
“I guess this number is his own personal one, different from the business one on the front.” Then she added, “Shall I? Oh god, I know we’ve done some stuff in the past, but this could be really bad!”
“Go on, yes, let’s see what happens, I’ll back you up, just see what he replies.”
“Ok, what are you going to say?”
“Hmmmmmm, how about, ‘Hi Mr Hadfield, it’s Emily, just making contact.’….keep it simple?”
“Yes, we can see how he replies.”
Emily tapped out the text and pressed ‘Send,’ and within five minutes her phone ‘pinged’ back.
“Ooooooh,” cried Emily excitedly, opening up the message.
Her eyes lit up, her eyebrows raised.
“He says, ‘Hello Emily, I hoped you would text. You looked lovely on Saturday. I hope I can arrange some work experience for you. I would like to meet you again to talk things over. Is that possible?”
“What do you think?” was her reaction. “Shall I say yes?”
“Of course, yes, meet him, and say something flirty back,” I was thinking quickly. “Say you’ll meet him for lunch, but ask him not to tell your dad, because you’ll be skipping college. Say he’s encouraging you to be naughty, then that has a double meaning.”
Having sent the text, we both waited with baited breath.
Ping!…..I peered over Emily’s shoulder.
The text read, ‘I shouldn’t encourage naughtiness! Can you meet on Tuesday, 1pm, same hotel as the other night?”
“Yes, yes, yes!” I yelled, “Say yes.”
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” muttered Emily, and texted back, ‘Yes, I’ll be there.’
And the date was made.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32