Lola slowly turned the doorknob. Tommy continued to snore, softly and steadily, so she lightly stepped out into the hall, leaving the door cracked just a tiny bit - it would make a much quieter return. She went down the steps, which immediately descended outside the door, twisted around, and opened up into the hallway next to the kitchen. The kitchen was dark and chilly, and Lola wished she was wearing more than Tommy's t-shirt...it barely covered her butt, but at 3 am she felt safe enough to assume that everyone was asleep. Tommy's father was rarely home - and when he was, he usually went in into his study and shut the doors by 10. His little brother Bryan was in bed even earlier.
The dishwasher swished and swirled and she could hear the thick tocks that the family grandfather clock made. The background noise managed to cover the extremely loud gurgle of her empty stomach. She craved something sweet...she rummaged through the fridge, and all she found was leftover Chinese. Eww.
There was some yummy honey vanilla soymilk though. Maybe cereal?
She looked towards pantry and saw that on the top shelf was a box of Lucky Charms. Jackpot! She walked over and stood on her tiptoes, reaching, stretching...her fingers finally reached the corners as she grabbed the cereal...
Lola felt his hot breath on her ear, felt the slight scratch of his beard on his neck, and smelled the sweet scent of aged scotch before she even heard his voice.
"Do your parents know where you are, Lola?" His voice was low, barely above a whisper.
Her heart dropped to her feet, and her fingers dropped the cereal. It clattered to the ground.
Lola took a terrified, shuddering breath and turned to face him. Tommy's father - Thomas, or Mr. Richards as she always called him, was towering over her. He was handsome, much like Tommy, but much more hardened and masculine. He was still wearing his work clothes - dark dress pants, a white buttoned-down shirt, and at the neck, a loosened tie. A twinge of gray accented his hairline and the stubble on his face. He leered down at her, his dark blue eyes lingering at the hemline of Tommy's shirt and at the pink, lacy panties peeking out.
Mr. Richards swirled around his glass of scotch and the ice cubes tinkled. He was very, very close - she felt his breath against her face as he considered her. They were quiet for a moment that seemed to last longer than it should, and she began to feel a little flushed and dizzy and...wet.
He took a sip of his drink and spoke.
"I don't recall giving you permission to stay the night, young lady."
Lola felt her stomach drop to her feet and her face flushed red. "No sir." She gulped. "You didn't."
He was quiet again, musing, and she began to feel a sense of dread creep in. She was so fucking busted. Her parents were the strictest Catholics you could ever meet. They didn't care that she was eighteen already - she still lived with them and had to toe the line. If they found out she was spending the night with her boyfriend...she would never be allowed out again. Ever.
"I assume your parents weren't involved in this decision either?"
She cringed. It was like he was reading her mind. "N-n-no," she stammered. "Um. Please, can you not tell them?" He started to smirk and took another sip of his scotch. "I promise, Mr. Richards, that you will never see me over here again. I swear." Lola's voice started to level out a bit as she regained a little confidence. "I can leave now. I'll go home."
Mr. Richards cut her off. "No, no. I don't know if you have been drinking or what you and Tommy have been up to." He put his empty drink down on the counter. "Besides, I don't believe you."
Lola started to panic. "You don't believe me? Don't believe what?"
He smirked again. "That you'll never come back. I saw you saunter in here with that satisfied, just-been-fucked face. My son gives it to you good, doesn't he?"
Lola stood there, shocked into silence.
He looked her up and down, openly, lewdly. "Or maybe he doesn't. Either way, you're the kind of little girl who needs a good, hard fucking, aren't you?"
Lola felt the hot, wet sensation of her panties becoming completely soaked. She trembled and remained silent.
"Pick that up." His voice was lower, gruffer, as he gestured towards the cereal, forgotten on the ground.
Lola nodded, quickly, and bent over to reach the cereal box. She felt his eyes on her ass before she felt his hands. He hooked her panties with his fingers and pulled her back into him, and she felt his hard cock on her ass through his dress pants.
It was massive.
He heard her sharp intake of breath and chuckled, then pressed upon her harder. She slowly, carefully stood up while Mr. Richards's hand reached over and softly caressed her breasts. He pinched her nipples gently through her - Tommy's - shirt, then slapped them just as gently. She felt his cock twitch and a soft growl escape his throat.
His lips found the back of her neck and he planted soft, tender kisses, from the base of her neck slowly up into her hairline, and Lola gasped and pressed her thighs together. She couldn't pretend to not enjoy this. She wanted him. And he clearly wanted her. So Lola relaxed and allowed her boyfriend's father to pinch her nipples again with his left hand while his right trailed down, down to her dripping pussy. He rudely yanked her panties down and began to finger her roughly, like a slut, like a toy.
"You are so wet, you bad little girl," he breathed into her ear. "Did you not get enough dick earlier?"
She stayed silent. He pulled his fingers out of her snatch and very slowly, measuredly, wiped them on her lips. The smell of her own pussy was irresistible to her, and Lola began to lick his fingers clean...
Mr. Richards groaned, and shoved them further in her mouth. "Yes..."
She began to suck them, hungrily.
He withdrew his hand and stared directly in her eyes. "Take that shirt off."
She did, nervously. He knew it was Tommy's and her stomach twisted and the perversity of it. Her tits popped free and she stood there before him in just her panties...black, lacy, fuck-me panties. He looked at her with approval, biting his lip lewdly. "Very good." He picked up his drink from the counter, swirled the ice cubes around, and took a sip of scotch.
"Now play with yourself."
Lola shifted nervously, but obediently reached up and lightly twisted her nipples. They were erect, and when she touched them she felt her pussy clench involuntarily. She bit her lip, and twisted them again, harder.
He stroked his dick outside of his pants. "Good girl. Touch your pussy."
She dipped her fingers into her pussy and began circling them around her clit...slowly at first...she was so self-conscious. But Tommy's father's eyes were intensely watching her, burning into her pussy.
Lola went faster...she dipped a finger inside, moaned, and looked him in the eyes, pleading for mercy.
Mr. Richards put his drink down quickly and spun her around, violently, grabbing the back of her head, forcing her lips to join his in a kiss. It was breathtaking and assaulting and bewildering. She tasted scotch and a hint of cigar as he fucked her mouth with his, stroked his lips against hers, and stopped, every so often, to bite her lip as if he were claiming her. She kissed him back, softly at first, but quickly letting go. She was hungry, she was horny, and this is what she needed. She hadn't come today - Tommy fucked her like a toy too, but lasted only a few minutes. She had been hot and wet and ready but he immediately fell asleep, as usual. She often would quietly and desperately fuck herself until she came, lightly, but it never seemed to be enough.
Mr. Richards - without breaking their kiss - began undoing his belt buckle. Lola felt her stomach clench. He undid his pants and pulled it out - that massive, bulging, stiff cock that Lola had felt earlier through her panties was in front of her face. She broke the kiss to stare.
