I had the house to myself so I mixed myself a drink and turned on some music. In the living room I sat on the couch and slipped my hand under my jeans and into my panties. I liked the idea of touching myself in the day time with the shades open. I was nearing the point of orgasm when everything went silent. I stopped mid-stroke. "Having a good time?" I groaned and opened my eyes. Greg, my step-dad's friend. I grew up going on outings with Greg, his wife and kids. He was my second step-dad.
"Dad isn't here, leave." Seeing his best friend's daughter fingering herself on the couch was a surprise for him and he's a shy sort of guy. Greg was easy to ignore.
"Your parents wouldn't leave you alone if they knew you were doing that." He moved closer. Greg is in his early fifties. He isn't one of those polo shirt guys yet. His hair was full and black except for a streak of silver grey. He had some serious stubble and eyes the color of his jeans.
"Greg, what the hell are you doing here?"
He just stood next to me with this smirk. "You know, if I were your father..."
"You're not. Go."
He shook his head. "Think you're tough, don't you?"
"Get out." He was getting closer. "Go." I attempted to stand but he wasn't having it.
"Someone needs to make sure you're being good." He was grinning.
I had had enough. "Fuck off. What's your problem?"
His smile widened. "Baby, are you ever nice?"
"Don't call me—"
He cut me off. "I'm tired of some barely-legal brat telling me to do."
He grabbed me by the wrist. "Look, Greg, let go of me, I won't tell Dad." My wrist was turning red from his grip.
His smile was almost cute. "You think he'll believe a nasty brat like you? Hell, maybe he'd like to hear it. You never know." I tried to jerk my wrist away but he ended up with the other one, too. "If you'd give in you'd have fun." He jerked me up and twisted me so my back was against him. "Why don't we go somewhere more comfortable, baby? Any suggestions?" He shrugged at my silence, "Guess we're going to Mom and Dad's room."
I tried to jerk away, "No." I tried to drag my feet and trip him but he was slick. In my parents' room he threw me on the bed. I started for the door. He was blocking my way out and looked impatient.
"Do I have to tie you down?" Then he got this wicked look. "Or maybe that's what you want. Is that it, baby? You want an older man to take care of you?" He reached out and caressed my face. It felt nice. He began undressing me. I hissed, kicking and he grinned, "That's why I like you. You fight." I tried to get away but he had my wrists pinned. He went for my mouth, "Mmm... Vodka and strawberries?"
"Kiwi." I don't know why I answered.
"I'm glad you're talking to me." He looked at me expectantly and when I said nothing he kissed my lips. He kissed me so softly, if I would have kissed back it would have been romantic. Finally he sighed, "Baby... Why won't you be good?" He slapped me across the face hard enough to stun me. "Men aren't supposed to hit women. But sometimes women deserve it, don't you think?" I felt his hand unbutton my jeans and slip under my panties. "I bet you like getting slapped, don't you baby?" I closed my eyes. "Mmm... I was right."
"Don't think it's because of you." I felt the tip of his finger pushing into me.
"You do like rough, don't you?" He held his moist finger to my lips and I had a new idea. Play along and he'd get bored. I sucked his finger and stared into his eyes. "You nasty girl. I bet you were thinking about me when you were playing with yourself." He removed his finger then ripped off my jeans and panties. He tugged off my wife-beater and bra. His big, rough hands rubbing over me felt better than any velvet or silk. "Maybe I should lock this door." My chance of escape was gone.
Softly I said, "What are you going to do with me?"
His face lit up, "I saw you fingering yourself. Don't tell me you haven't figured this out. Christ, girl, look at you! I bet you're a slut, aren't you, baby?"
"Fuck off, I am not a slut," I snapped.
