After three hours, it was after nine o'clock, and my trustworthy dad wasn't home, or hadn't called to let us know where he was. But I hadn't given him a thought since he had last called. We had ordered pizza and eaten it an hour and a half ago – Doug got cheese pizza just for me, and he ordered an extra large meat lover's for him and my dad. Over the course of three hours I'd learned that Doug had been working with my dad for four years, that the two of them went out for beers every Friday night, and that they had something of a bromance; they'd go to movies together, go out to restaurants, and hang out when they needed someone to talk to. Best friends. I wondered why Dad never talked about Doug in the many empty silences we had.
We were watching The Godfather on TV; we'd just caught the beginning of it on some sort of unrated movie channel. I'd seen it before with my dad, but I'd only pretended to watch it to humour him. So I really didn't know what it was about. I was dazing in and out of the movie, thinking about school, friends, and vaguely wondering about Doug, when something unexpected happened on the screen.
I had no idea there was a sex scene in The God Father.
My eyes bugged and I froze in my seat. I stated at the screen incredulously, as if it made a conscious slight against me by playing a sex scene while I was next to a man roughly twice my age. I squirmed motionlessly, watching the characters fuck against a door. Someone interrupted them briefly, but then they continued, and the scene was over.
It couldn't have lasted more than ten seconds, but it kept burning in my mind long after the commercials started to play. I discreetly looked over at Doug from the corner of my eye; he had cracked another beer and was sipping at it contentedly, unperturbed by anything.
I started to notice the heat between my legs.
Shit, no, I groaned mentally. I couldn't be turned on here, not at my dad's house, not with a complete stranger sitting two feet away from me. I rarely felt aroused, and whenever I did I was in a convenient location to satisfy myself. I'd never been in someone else's home. But I'd never been this suddenly horny. And from a mediocre, short-lived sex scene.
But it was only the sex scene that pushed me over the edge.
I looked at Doug from the corner of my eye again, and it only got more intense.
"I'll be right back," I said, getting up off the couch.
"Don't take too long, it'll start again soon," he replied, then took another nonchalant sip of his beer.
I crossed the living room to the furthest hallway. I walked into the bathroom at the end, flicked on the light and closed the door swiftly behind me. I turned on the fan as well, just to make cover noise, then made sure the door was locked.
I leaned against the bathroom sink with a light sigh, carefully undoing my belt buckle and my pants. I slid them down my hips to just under my ass, then shuffled upwards to sit on the edge of the counter. I was just the right height that it was comfortable to sit with my head leaning against the mirror with my feet just barely off the ground. Then I slowly ran my hands over my thighs before lightly touching myself over my panties.
I moaned softly, overly satisfied with finally being able to attend to myself. It felt like I had been waiting all day for this. I slowly rubbed two fingers over the lining of my lips, and was surprised to find that I was so wet that I was soaking through my underwear. I had never been that wet, or at least not while I was aware of it. What surprised me more was that after only seconds, I needed more intense stimulation.
I tried slipping my hand under the waistband of my briefs, and sucked in a breath of surprise at how much more pleasurable it was. I had a relatively sensitive clit, or so I used to think, so I had never been able to touch myself directly. I had always needed at least one layer between my fingers and myself. But I was so wet that it felt like I was dipping my fingers in warm oil, and it felt good.
I could feel heat spreading across my chest, and I reached behind my back to unclasp my bra with my free hand as I continued to massage circles on my lips. When I was free from my bra, I lifted it and my shirt up over my bust. Even the feel of the cool air on my nipples was enticing enough. I lightly pinched one of them between my fingers, and I arched my back as I suppressed a yelp of pleasure.
When I say I've never been this aroused, I'm painfully honest. I'd never had a boyfriend, but I'd had one or two sexual encounters before. My first time was with a drunk frat guy I took advantage of in first year, and my second was with a friend of a friend who asked if I wanted to pass time. Both events were largely unmemorable and fairly disappointing. I'd grown not to expect much from sex, and I didn't think much of guys, considering I'd never been overly attracted to them. Until now.
I felt perverse for finding an interest in Doug – for one, he was a recreation of my dad, about his age, and out of my league. Not that I thought of either of us as better than the other, but rather we were in totally different sports altogether. I was meant for college boys, he for divorced women nearing forty. But the look of his worn yet soft caramel skin and that perfectly angled jaw had drawn me in to all the other features that made me undeniably attracted to him physically.
I wasn't nearing an orgasm yet, but the tension was already surpassing anything I'd remembered enjoying. My mouth fell open slightly – I couldn't keep it closed anymore. It was also getting increasingly difficult to muffle my moans, and I hoped that I was being quiet enough to at least avoid gaining Doug's attention.
But I started to wonder what would happen if he did hear me. I fantasized about him coming into the bathroom, seeing me touch myself, then slowly pulling my pants the rest of the way down before he removed his own and fucked me against the bathroom sink.
I started to feel the build, and I gasped as I imagined his dick pressed up against my opening, teasing me. I rubbed my breast with the palm of my hand, the tingling in my nipples only adding to the burning in my thighs and the ache in the pit of my stomach.
I opened my mouth in a silent scream and arched my back again as I reached my peak. My thighs trembled and my lungs were robbed of air as my muscles clenched themselves, sending waves through my body. It was so intense that for a moment noise escaped my throat. I covered my mouth with my free hand and tried to muffle the sounds with low grunts. I rocked against my hand with each wave, riding out my orgasm.
It was, undoubtedly, the best one I'd ever had.
It must have been a good three or so minutes before the shock waves subsided. My legs were trembling so much that I didn't think I would be able to stand if I tried.
I heard a shuffle from behind the door. I froze - I nearly pissed myself in fright. I held back my yelp and tried to keep myself from flailing off the counter.
Then he walked away.
I sat still like a statue for nearly a solid minute. The only thought that ran through my head constantly was if he had been listening the entire time or not.
