My daughter, Sandra, was nearly twenty when she moved out of home. She and Melissa, a friend of her of the same age, had finally decided to make the break and get their own place. They found themselves a relatively cheap flat, scrounged spare furniture from me and from Melissa's parents and bought a few bits and pieces.
The girls were very independent, not wanting my help in the shift, though I noticed that my two sons got conscripted to do some of the moving. After they'd settled in I was finally invited around to look the place over.
It was a very nice little place and the girls had furnished quite nicely with what little they had. After I'd made all the right approving noises my daughter offered me a cup of coffee so I settled into their one lounge chair while she made it.
While I was waiting for my coffee Melissa came bustling into the little front room and turned on the TV. Then she noticed there was nowhere to sit because I had the chair. Rather than sit on the floor she calmly sat on my knee. Not an unusual occurrence. I'd known Melissa since she was small.
She wasn't small any longer and she made a pleasant armful. I'd automatically put an arm around her waist to help hold her steady, and her wriggling around had pulled her top up slightly, so my hand was resting on her tummy.
I sat there, drinking my coffee and idly chatting with the girls. I'd just about finished my coffee when something unusual dawned on me. Melissa was wearing tights and a loose sloppy jumper sort of a top. What suddenly dawned on me was that Melissa wasn't wearing a bra. I knew this because I'd just discovered that my hand had cupped her naked breast and was idly playing with it.
I swear I don't know how it happened. I vaguely remembered rubbing Melissa's tummy while I held her, but I could have sworn that was all I did. Apparently not, as I can still feel that firm young breast, the nipple peaked hard against my hand as I fondled it.
I could guess why my daughter didn't notice. That loose top Melissa had on could hide a multitude of things. Any movement, therein, would just have been put down to Melissa's breast moving against the top.
Melissa noticing was something else again. I think it unlikely in the extreme that she couldn't feel a great big hand pawing her lovely breast. Or breasts, in this case, as my hand was already drifting over to assess the other one. It felt just as soft, with another hard little nub in the centre that seemed to quiver when I rubbed it.
And Melissa said nothing, just sitting there chatting away, apparently oblivious to her breasts being manhandled. The obvious thing to do, of course, would to be withdraw my hand and beat a polite retreat, assuring both girls that yes, they indeed have a lovely little unit. The other option was to sit there, continue talking, and hold Melissa's breast. Which is what I did. If she wanted them back all she had to do was stand up. Until she did, they were mine.
What happened was that Sandra suddenly jumped to her feet. (She had been sprawled on a rug on the floor.)
"I finished off the milk making the coffee," she announced. "I'm just going to run down the street and get some. Back in a flash."
"Back in a flash my eye," muttered Melissa as Sandra bolted out the door. "Her boyfriend will be finishing his shift down at Big W. She'll hang around until he's done."
"How nice," I murmured, my hand finally dropping away from her breast. I placed my hands on her hips and lifted slightly. "On your feet."
With a sigh, Melissa rose to her feet. My hands left her hips and rose a little, right to the point where bare skin vanished behind her tights. My hands slipped inside her tights and started down, taking the tights with them. Melissa gave a muffled squeak as the tights went down, but didn't try to stop me. I'm not sure if she realised her panties were going down at the same time. She lifted her feet when I tapped her ankles and let me roll them right off.
Straightening up I gave her top a slight tug.
"Off," I said softly and Melissa took it off. Slowly, very slowly. I saw the smirk on her face before the top covered it as she pulled it up. Then she was standing before me, naked, and a very pleasant sight she was. I reached for her breasts and cupped them, watching her face. She was looking at my hand, a slumberous look in her half closed eyes.
I drew my hands slowly down, one moving around behind her while the other moved straight down over her stomach. Melissa was watching me now, rather than my hands, with a slightly expectant look on her face. It changed into one of sudden shock when my hand closed over her bare mound, cupping and squeezing slightly. I'd been right. She hadn't noticed her panties going with the tights and had assumed that she was still wearing them. Her sudden realisation of her total nudity made her eyes open very wide for a moment.
As my hand trailed back up her body to capture and hold her breast again I could see the realisation dawning upon Melissa that this wasn't just going to be a bit of naughty slap and tickle. I was quite sure she wasn't a virgin and she fully understood what was about to happen. I looked for an objection, but it was rather plain that she had no intention of being the one to call a halt. That was fine by me.
"In case you're wondering," I said softly, while my hands continued to wander, "in a few moments I'm going to stand up, bend you over the arm of this chair and proceed to ravish your nubile young body."
I was smiling slightly as I looked her in the eye. Melissa was smiling back. Actually, I think you could say she was smirking, confident that she could handle anything I chose to dish out.
From the way her eyes widened when I stood up and dropped my trousers it's possible her confidence took an unexpected hit. Not that she was going to admit it. She turned as I eased her over the arm of the chair, bending over with every show of confidence, but there was a faint uneasiness on her face as she turned to look at me. Well, not me, as such, but at my erection. While not of record breaking size, I have to admit I was reasonably generously equipped.
