An Unexpected Visitor

This is pretty short for me and leads on to a longer sequel.

An unexpected visitor

When your doorbell rings after 1 am, on a Friday night, it is never a good thing. Especially when you're single and in your mid-forties. I've no fun-loving friends that just turn up unannounced.

It's fortunate that I'm still up. Pausing the movie and putting down the wine glass. I head to the door, trying to work out who it is. Never would I have guessed it was my neighbour's daughter, Kate. She was nineteen and dressed to the nines, and very drunk.

"I lost my keys." She slurs, pushing past me. "And mum and dad are away tonight."

She's squinting in the harsh hall light. As she tries to hang up the long leather coat she'd been carrying, she misses. But it gives me a moment to take in what she's wearing. A black sequin halter top, exposing her entire back, and a very short skirt. She bends to pick it up, but wobbles on her high heels and gives up. Turning instead, she weaves into the lounge.

A rather pissed off middle-aged man is standing just outside the door. It takes a moment to realise he's not some random bloke she's picked up, but an unpaid taxi driver. As I pay him, he mutters.

"I'm glad that's not my daughter, getting into a state like that."

"She's not my daughter..." he looks up and I can see he's trying to figure out if I'm some sugar daddy. "She's my neighbour's kid." I explained.

Returning to the lounge to see Kate standing in front of the TV. Drinking my rather expensive wine and flicking through the TV channels looking for something else.

"Where did you lose your keys?"

"At a club. I got kicked out for no proper reason. My keys, phone, and money must still be there." She seems to have found a music channel she likes.

"This wine is good." She downs half a glass in a single gulp and holds the glass out as she turns the volume up.

Rather than try to talk over the noise, I refill her glass with the last of the wine. She looks a little disappointed but sips from it. Setting the glass down, she sways to the music.

Pouring myself a malt whisky, I notice what I should have noticed earlier. With her backless top, she's braless and the loose sequined material does little to hide the movement of her breasts. As she shimmies and turns, I catch a hint of side-boob.

Taking my seat again, I'll admit to finding this a little weird. I'd known the girl since her parents moved next door about ten years ago. Back then, my now ex-wife insisted on throwing summer BBQ and bonfire parties, inviting most of the neighbours. So we got to know them well.

However, when we separated, around the point Kate hit her teens, the parties stopped and I'd become a recluse as far as the neighbourhood is concerned. Not that I shunned the neighbours. I'd still greet them if I bumped into them on the street.

However, I pretended not to notice when one neighbour's wife or another would drop hints about a single friend they knew. It seems to a married woman, that an unmarried man in his forties, is an aberration they have to fix.

I suppose I was aware of Kate growing up, but I'd never thought of her as anything other than just the neighbour's kid. Seeing her like this, short skirt, high heels and a top that barely qualified as clothing. It was impossible to ignore that she wasn't a child anymore. Her legs are slim and seemingly endless in that short skirt. In the low lighting, it's hard to judge her bust, but I'd hazard a guess of a 'C' cup.

As she writhes about sinuously graceful despite her drunkenness. She was also extremely sexy, and for me, that's a problem. I've been single and without female companionship for over six years.

I'm enjoying the spectacle a lot more than I should. After my divorce, some of my friends tried to drag me to a strip club to get over my ex-wife. I'd refused, but seeing Kate's gyrations made me wonder if I'd missed out.

When the music changes, she opens her eyes and catches me staring at her.

"I love this song!" She shouts and the pace of her dance becomes more frenetic.

Her arms above her head, rotating in one direction, while her hips rotate the other. Her abdomen is exposed, and I struggle to tear my eyes off her swaying breasts. Luckily, her eyes are closed again.

Alternating from one foot to the other, she gradually rotates on the spot. When her back was to me, she suddenly bends at the knees and shakes her bum. I think she's trying to twerk, but her bottom is just too small and pert. It does, however, emphasise how short her skirt is.

Resuming her dancing, her turn continues and from the side, her halter top is hanging looser. Revealing the side of her breast, almost to her nipple. It's only for a moment, but that's the first naked breast I've seen in far too long.

Now I'm glad about the low lighting and my dark trousers. The natural biological processes were working, despite my discomfort, and I'm developing an erection.

Once Kate is facing me again, she stretches up high. Then drops to her haunches and bounces back up. It's only for a fraction of a second, but I'd swear I saw something between her legs and under her skirt. It was almost like a flash of light, like those of her sequined top.

She repeated the drop, but this time she came down heavier and lost her balance, landing unceremoniously on the floor. With her knees open and leaning on one elbow, I can see the front of her underwear is sequined, just like her top. A nice touch to coordinate the pair, I thought as she started laughing.

"Oops." she giggles, closing her legs a little late.

My manners kick in, and I jump up to help her.

"You ok?" I ask and she nods. Taking my proffered hand and pulling herself up.

"Looks like I've done enough dancing after all." She says, grasping her wine again. "Actually, I don't suppose I could get a foot massage?" Without waiting, she plops herself down on the settee. Her head was on one armrest and her body was running the length of the settee.

"It's ok, I don't have stinky feet." She adds.

Then she bends her knees to lift her feet, allowing me to sit. As she does this, one hand attempts ineffective modesty by trying to cover her exposed bottom.

Up close, it's obvious why she slipped. The shoes have a good 5-inch heel and high platform soles. Stripper shoes to match the stripper outfit. Removing the shoes, I twist sideways, one knee on the settee and mostly facing her down on the settee.

Between my ex-wife and former girlfriends, I've given more than enough foot massages to know what I'm doing. And to avoid any ticklish spots. Kate seems to appreciate it. Her eyes are closed, one hand behind her head and the other resting in her lap.

From this angle, it wouldn't take much to see her panties again. But I try to push that thought aside, hoping my erection goes away before she notices.

Working deep into the flesh of the foot, she groans and slides further down the settee to push back against me. Causing her skirt to slip up, exposing a little of her sequin-covered crotch.

To distract myself as much as anything, I ask what happened tonight. Kate's eyes open briefly to look at me.

"Me and a gang of friends went out to get; erm. To have fun." she explains, but I know she meant to 'get laid,'

"We ended up in a club where I spotted a really lush guy. When I got a chance, I went in to snare him. Only his girlfriend comes back and kicks up a fuss." I'm a little shocked that she'd try to steal another girl's boyfriend so casually.

"Turns out she has some connection to the club and they kicked me out. I snagged my coat on the way out, but I was already in the taxi before I realised I didn't have my phone, keys, and purse. My parents are away at a wedding on the other side of the country. And without my phone, I can't call anyone for help, so I came to you."

As I switch feet, she rests her other foot on my thigh, the heel dangerously close to my erection. Pulling the material of my trousers tight and highlighting the bulge. Casually, I lift it, moving it off my leg, and placing it between my leg and the back of the settee.

Unintentionally, this raises one knee, which flops to one side. Separating her legs and exposing a little more of her underwear. Crap! That's not helping my 'problem' go away. To distract us both, I concentrate on the new foot.

Kate groans and stretches both arms above her head. Exposing her belly a little and she slides a little further down the settee towards me again. Now almost the entire front of her crotch is exposed. A quick look at her face shows her eyes are closed. However, from the grin she's trying to hide, I know she's fucking with me. At least to some extent. If she can't tease boys her own age, she seems happy to torment me.

Now I have a dilemma. I could point out her exposure and let her pretend it's an accident. The problem with that is I've waited too long. For the last five minutes, I've seen at least some of her underwear. If I say something now, she could call me a pervert for not saying anything sooner. And each second that passed without saying something was like a weird game of chicken.

Realising that this 19-year-old could twist me up like some teenage boy was a bit of a shock.

The sounds from the TV drag my eyes from Kate to it. On-screen are some scantily clad women simulating sex acts while dancing. That's not helping! Grabbing the remote, I switch it back to my movie and turn down the volume.

Turning back to Kate to continue the massage. However, I realise she's on the edge of sleep. Reducing the pressure just enough to avoid tickling, but not enough to keep her from falling asleep. I continue the massage until I hear her breathing change. Waiting a few more minutes before slipping out from under her.

Sipping my whisky, standing in front of the TV with my back to Kate. I'm waiting for my erection to go down, but it seems the entire universe is colluding against me tonight.

In the movie, the 'baddies captured the heroine' and it turns out their leader is her former lover. Despite being tied up, she tries to reason with him and then, when that fails, tries to seduce him. Her clothes are cut away and the pair have sex, although without ever untying her. I'll say one thing, the actress is working for her money, as the scene is pretty hot.

It's only as the woman finally escapes and sneaks naked from the 'baddies' camp that I remember I'm not alone. Glancing over my shoulder to see Kate still asleep. Her left foot has slipped from the settee, exposing her crotch completely and confirms the suspicion the underwear is a thong. Her head is tilted towards me, and her mouth is open, and she's snoring.

Switching off the TV, I move to stand over Kate. Her legs were open and inviting, her lower stomach uncovered, and her halter top was loose on her. I could hook a finger around the side and move it to expose her breast to me. She'd never know.

Looking up, her hair partially covering her face. Her expression was slack and her mouth open. The image of me whipping out my dick and slipping it between those warm, soft lips flashes through my brain.

Shaking my head to clear the image. God! I really have to find some female companionship. Some age-appropriate companionship, I correct. Six years is too long to wait.

I couldn't help thinking about my wife, or my ex-wife now. And how my friends had been surprised we got together as she was 8 years older than me. But she was fun and eccentric. Something I felt I wanted at the time. However, she was also mercurial, and a sponge for other people's crackpot ideas.

When her Glastonbury friends got her into homoeopathy and the power of crystals, it was a step too far for me. As I was a surgeon, we had many discussions that devolved into arguments over her ideas. Watch Tim Minchin's 'Storm' for an idea of how it went.

Gradually we stopped arguing, as we effectively stopped communicating. Shopping lists and things for the house were about all we said to each other. Then one day she told me she needed a break from a marriage that was marriage in name only.

I thought she'd just visit one of her sisters for a week or two. But she'd already quit her job and planned on visiting the places she'd wanted to visit as a girl. That's the advantage of a trust fund and a wealthy family, I suppose.

It was a little weird driving her to the airport and letting her kiss me on the cheek as she said goodbye. Almost as if she was going on a day trip and everything was normal. She promised to keep in touch. However, after six months without a word, I realised she wasn't coming back. I put all her stuff in storage, gave the keys to her parents. Then I tried to move on with my life. That was six years ago now.

The painful memory jolts me into action, and I grab a throw to put over Kate. Covering her up, I left the door open a crack and the hall light on, so she'd not have to stumble over furniture in a strange room if she woke up and needed the bathroom.

I resumed my usual bedtime routine and by the time I slipped naked between the sheets, my erection had finally gone. I couldn't remember the last time one had lasted so long. Then again, I'd not been exposed to such a nubile youthful body since I was her age. Who am I trying to kid? I'd never been exposed to such beauty. Don't get me wrong, I had my share of dating, but I'm average looking at best. Kate is a 9 or 10.

A jaw cracking yawn reminds me why I never stay up this late. I'm sure I'm asleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow. My dreams are confusing, a mixture of memories and imaginings. Images of previous girlfriends, my former wife when we were still in love, each at an intimate moment. The images of Kate merge with these.

A soft sound and movement woke me up. The bedroom door opens, and in the light from the hall, I see Kate enter. It's obvious from the way she moves she's half asleep and still a little drunk. What's also obvious is that she's naked.

That jolts my brain awake, but not fast enough to figure out what to do. She slips under the covers with me. On autopilot, I move to give her space. Before I can slip out of bed, she presses up against me. Her cool flesh touches mine from knee to shoulder.

What should I do? Obviously, she must still be drunk. If I cry out or try to stop her, she might startle and cry out herself, finding us both naked and in bed. I didn't want a distraught, naked teenage girl screaming down the neighbourhood.

Her appearance had not only awoken my brain. My dick also noted she was naked and started rising to attention, expecting something that would not happen.

Better to let her fall asleep and I can slip out of bed and sleep on the settee. My plan lasts about a minute. Kate's arm slips over my stomach and then down to graze my pubic hair. When the back of her hand encounters my new erection, we both freeze.

I'm trying to think up a reasonable explanation. For when she realises what's happening and freaks out. However, we're thinking in different directions. She grasps my dick and says.

"Oh, babe. I know what you want."

Her grip tightens, and she starts to wank me, then she moves and I realise she is sliding down the bed. Hardly daring to breathe, I feel her breath on my dick, followed by her lips. Fuck! That feels so good. Wrong, oh so wrong, but fantastic.

Having nothing but my hand on my dick for years, Kate's talented tongue was incredible. She could have taught my ex-wife a thing or two. I am trying not to think about how Kate had learned such good oral skills at her age.

Just when I thought it couldn't get any better, I discover Kate had a pierced tongue. The stud tickles the most sensitive part of my glans, and I shudder.

"That's it, babe, don't hold back. Give me what I want." Thank God for that! I don't think I could hold out much longer. Less than a minute later, Kate was swallowing my load.

Despite having done very little, my heart was pounding as if I'd just run a race. I was feeling a little light-headed. Kate gently kisses the increasingly sensitive tip, collecting the last drops, before she moves up my body.

"I hope that will tide you over for now. However, I expect you to return the favour in the morning."

My heart almost stopped at that. Not stopping her from coming into my bed naked was one thing. Waiting until after she sucked me off was an order-of-magnitude worse. Luckily, as her head emerged from beneath the covers, it was far too dark for her to recognise me.

"Well?" she asks.

"Of course," I reply, trying to disguise my voice a little.

"I'll hold you to that."

She rolls over with her back to me, leaving me to ponder what had just happened. Obviously, I know what's happened. A girl I've watched growing up just sneaked into my bed naked. Giving me the best blow job in at least a decade.

Admittedly, there wasn't a lot of competition, but even so. The problem was, or I should say amongst the growing list of problems, was what she'd do when she found out.

I was still pondering this when Kate sighs.

"I'm exhausted, but I can't go to sleep without some help. Give me your left hand."

Rolling onto my side to face her, I reach out until my fingers touch the small of her back. She reaches out to take my hand and pulls it lower. Shifting on the bed until she's partially on her stomach, her left knee slips up the bed and she guides my fingers between her thighs.

"I think you know what to do."

Freezing with my hand in place, what do I do? I mean, I know what to do, obviously. However, until now, I could claim, however feebly, that I was the unwilling party.

To do this means I'm actively taking part. I will have taken advantage of her. My mind is racing, trying to think of the best thing to do. But each action I can think of slams hard into being discovered. And worse was that for each second I vacillated over what to do, bringing that discovery closer.

Whatever lover Kate thinks she's in bed with would have willingly touched her by now. My delay is more likely to raise her suspicions. Rationalising I might as well be hung for a sheep as for a lamb, I began.

As my hand runs over her soft warm thighs, I can feel the heat from her sex. Making my decision-making process harder.

Delaying discovery until the morning has several advantages. It would give me the chance to think of some explanation. It allows her time to sober up, hopefully reducing any screaming hysterics at the situation.

Plus the fact I'd never forgive myself if I miss this opportunity.

Accepting I was going ahead with this, I decided to enjoy it. This could be the last chance I'd get to touch any woman. In the morning I'd be facing probable crying, screaming and potential legal implications.

Moving my hand back to run it over her arse. Kate mewls in disappointment, so I whisper.

"Don't worry baby, it's just your arse is too perfect to miss out on. I'll make you happy." As I finish, I realise I'd not tried to disguise my voice.

She purrs in satisfaction and pushes back against me a little. I'm not joking about her bum. It's perfect! Her skin is so smooth and soft, tight with youthful elasticity. I could spend hours just holding it.

I doubt that would satisfy Kate. Running my fingernails across her soft round cheeks, gradually working closer to both our ultimate destinations. As my fingers delve deeper, the heat from her sex was like a homing beacon. Her fleshy labia are warm, damp and entirely hairless.

The knuckle of my thumb presses between her lips, and Kate moans. Pulling back to repeat it, she grabs my hand and moves her hips and my thumb penetrates her. Her young, tight lips suck me inside.

"Fuck! That's good. Don't leave me hanging, lover!" She whispers. Hearing her talk brings me back to some form of reality.

I need to get her off and not make this about me. In this, I have one advantage. Towards the end of my marriage, my wife would complain she had a bad back and was unable to have regular sex. Even if I wasn't a surgeon, I'd have seen through the lies. But despite our growing apart, I'd become especially proficient at getting her off with my fingers.