Marc loves small girls, with only one exception; they were all much shorter, smaller chest and, 'perky'. Yes that word does describe them all.
Kara was a girlfriend who came and went all through high school. He would date her for a month, maybe six weeks and then they would split and not see her for another month or more. He would ask me to go pick her up at her house, or, her father would drop her off at our house. I always wondered if her father knew or suspected she was getting fucked, regularly by Marc. I know this because of the motion sensitive security system we have in the house.
Most areas have a security camera pointed across a room, looking at either doors or windows. All rooms have a motion detector which turns on the cameras and records whatever activity has triggered it. The system is set to only record when the house is alarmed, nights and when we leave. But it can be manually overridden, set to record as needed.
So, I am a curious person / father. Kara would arrive, and both would disappear into the finished basement, turn on the projection TV system and... That's what I wanted to know. So after they disappeared into the basement followed by our dog, I went into my den where the computer control for the security system lives. Clicked on the system and changed inputs to the basement. They were sitting on the couch, facing the projection screen, his hand in her pants, her hand moving up and down his cock. Marc often (especially when a girl was coming to the house) would wear baggy sweat pants with no underwear (Liz and I called them the easy out and in pants... use your imagination). This went on for some minutes, until she leand across and kissed Marc, who brought his arm to her waist and lifted her blouse. Kara was small breasted, most likely with a pair of 'B's. No bra brought her delights to his immediate attention. His hands left her pants and he suckled her small nipples. Her head snapped back, arching her back into his face. She turned and sat on his lap facing him, giving him access to all her pleasure areas. His hands were back in her pants, sliding them down her ass and exposing a wonderful sight to my voyeur eyes, as he nibbled on her neck and slid his mouth down to her nipples.
I could see her shuddering from the pleasure he was delivering. He stopped and pushed her over on to the couch, landing on her back. He reached for the waistband of her jeans and in one movement pulled them off. She was left with only a thin gray thong covering her pussy, her small breasts sporting two erect nipples. Marc leaned over her, lowering his head to her nipples and his hand to her thong covered pussy. His hand began to work its way into her cunt and she responded by arching her back and biting her lower lip, then, lying on top of her he seemed to be talking to her. He got up and off her and left. I heard him on the basement stairs and then heard him pounding up the stairs to the bedrooms. He rushed into his room and I could hear him opening and closing drawers. As I listened to him rummaging, I watched the monitor of the basement image. Kara was lying on the couch, one hand draped over the side playing with the dog, the other hand buried in her pussy. He stopped rummaging, muttered something to himself and came to the den door where I was. I turned the monitor so he could not see the image of Kara masturbating herself.
"Dad, I need a favor" he asked. "Do you and Mom use condoms?"
I decided to be a wise guy and replied "Only for water balloon fights, why?"
"Dad, be serious. I need a condom, now."
"It's very brazen of you to come up here and tell me you are about to fuck Kara. I thought I taught you to be prepared at all times to protect the girl you are intimate with. Right?"
"You're right, but PLEASE I need one right now."
I asked him "So what happened to the last supply? Where is the one you are supposed to keep in your wallet?"
"Do you want a list of the girls and places and who I gave them to before you will give me one?"
"How many did you give to Dan?" I asked.
"Six." he replied.
"One in your wallet and you used five?"
"DAD, PLEASE?" He insisted.
"OK, keep it in your pants."
I went to my bedroom and retrieved one condom from my drawer. I gave it to him and he bounded down the stairs. When he got to the basement, Kara asked him what took so long.
"My dad wouldn't give me a condom. I am out. I have to buy more."
"You mean your father knows what we are doing?"
"Yeah, so? He doesn't mind. He's not dumb."
"You expect me to look at him, have him see me and know I am fucking his son?"
"Why not, my parents fuck, I know it, they make noises, I hear it and I see them every day. No big deal."
Marc dropped his pants, jerked his cock to erection and handed the condom to Kara. She opened it and rolled it onto his cock. It didn't appear that she was into the sex as much as before Marc went on his condom hunt, but fuck they did. Marc got his load off, but it didn't appear that Kara had any orgasms from this session. They had just finished when I had the sudden urge to get something, anything from the basement. With the security system on and recording, I went down the stairs and down the basement, listening to the sounds of two people hurriedly, panicked, and dressing before I 'discovered' them. They were flushed and disheveled in attire, but clothed and polite. I went to the laundry room and chuckled to myself over how rude I was.
Marc and Kara dated until early summer and then he moved on to another young girl. A good deal of time passed and we never saw Kara in Marc's life again.
In early September, as classes were beginning for another school year, I was home after a day of teaching and office hours. Liz had left for an off shift at the hospital and I was in the studio working on some assignments. I heard a car pull into the driveway, a car horn go off and a door slam. Now, what, I thought to myself as I left my photo studio and entered the garage. The doors were opened and I saw the rear of a figure heading for the main door of the house. As I entered the house, I found Kara kneeling on the floor, playing with our dog.
"Kara? What brings you here? Marc's not home."
"I came to see your dog" she said, but not in a normal way. She was drunk, stinking drunk. I could smell the alcohol from ten feet away.
"Kara, what's wrong? Why are you drunk this early in the afternoon? It's not like you at all. So, talk to me. Can I help you?"
She began sobbing, crying, screaming, leaned forward and hit the floor, pounding her fists and hands into the carpet, all the time screaming.
I walked over to her and knelt by her side; rubbing her back and trying to lift her head from the floor.
Her face was a mess of tears, running make-up and mascara. I left her, went to the kitchen, got a clean bar mop, wet it and returned to fix her face and begin to comfort her and hopefully to calm her down so she could talk to me.
I got her to sit up on the floor but she was too drunk to maintain a sitting position. I wondered how she managed to drive to our home in this state. I got up and put my hands into her arm pits and lifted her to a wobbly standing position. She leaned back against me and I had to grab her around the waist to steady her. I dragged her to the couch and in the process pulled her blouse almost to her neck, exposing her braless breasts. She flopped down, listing to one side and never seemed to notice her nakedness. For that matter, she never noticed my nakedness. She looked up at me and the crying began, again. I retrieved the towel and handed it to her, but she was too drunk to even hold it. I began to dry the streaks of tears and make-up, all the time trying to quietly whisper comforting words to her.
"Kara, come on. You need to talk to me why are you drunk in the middle of the afternoon? What has caused this? Did Marc have anything to do with this?"
She shook her head and gave me a drunken "No, not Marc". Her eyes were beginning to flutter and then she just passed out.
I decided not to leave her in the living room on the couch, so I picked her up in my arms and carried her up to the spare bed room. I no sooner laid her down when I heard her begin to wretch; she was going to be sick. Quickly, I picked her up and raced to the adjoining bath room, but not in time.
She covered herself and me in her up-chuck.
"SHIT" I yelled. "I hate the stench of vomit."
Into the shower I laid her down and turned on the warm water. No choice now, I started stripping her clothing off her. I placed the soiled skirt, thong and blouse in the sink, removed her flip-flops and grabbed the shower head. I hosed her off, and turned the stream on myself. When I was finally cleansed of vomit, I returned to my naked friend. She was still passed out and lying in vomit washed from my and her own body. I managed to hose the remaining into the drain, lifting and turning her as needed. I had a chance, now, to admire the beauty she possessed in her naked state. Short cut light brown hair, smallish breasts with very pink areoles and eraser sized nipples. Her pussy was just a gash between her legs, with no outer fleshy lips. A small triangle of light brown pubic hair topped her honey pot.
I went to the linen closet and retrieved two bath sized towels, laying one on top of the bed. I returned to Kara and awkwardly lifted her up and wrapped her in the towel. I delivered her to the other towel on the bed and laid her down. I used one towel to dry her hair, and her upper body. The towel she was laying on I used for her hips, legs and feet. I got a small hand towel and used it for her pussy, spreading her legs to gain access and remove whatever substances were caught there. I separated the outer lips of her cunt and just starred at the beauty of her vaginal lips and tunnel. Her clit must have known something good was happening because it began to appear from its hiding place.
I let her just lie on the bed, covered in the towels and returned to the bath room and shower to clean it and dry the shower walls. I used a towel to dry myself and when I had finished, returned to my patient.
She had rolled over to her side and had exposed the sweetest set of ass cheeks I had seen in some time. Her pussy was visible as was her ass hole. I wanted so badly to lick and kiss it and press fingers and tongue and cock into any and all of her womanly openings, but molesting the unconscious is not my style. As I looked down to my friend, standing at horizontal attention in front of my groin, I told him, not now, not this time. He bid a slow, reluctant retreat.
I went back down stairs, her wet, dirty laundry in hand and headed for the laundry room. Yes, all her cloths were washable so in they went, and I went off to the studio, dog in tow, to complete my work.
Two, maybe three hours later I heard noises in the garage. I yelled for my wife, thinking she was home early. No answer, so I left the studio and went into the garage, no one there. Then I heard a car door slam. Kara was in her car attempting to drive off. I ran to the passenger side, opened the door and pulled the keys from the ignition. She sat there, her head wobbling, still drunk and naked. Again, the tears started and her head went back hitting the head restraint. Passed out again.
