My daughter was having a friend stay for a couple of days. Natasha was a little despondent, apparently wanting a break from her home-life and an importunate boyfriend. I couldn't help over-hearing her discussing her woes with my daughter.
It is not only teenagers that are afflicted with selective deafness. Any wise parent knows the value of not hearing some things that are being said, especially when your daughter is discussing sex with a friend. Still, just because I didn't 'hear' the girls talking didn't mean that I didn't know what was going on.
Natasha was, it seemed, still a virgin, hovering on the brink of becoming a non-virgin, but not quite ready for that step. At least, not with her current boyfriend. (My own daughter is, naturally, still a virgin, and will remain so for her entire life, all evidence to the contrary being ignored.)
Where Natasha's boyfriend was concerned, he was more than ready for Natasha to join the ranks of ex-virgins. Quite hot for it, being a typical horny young man. He had recently moved to the 'if you love me' ploy, using Natasha's own emotions as weapons. She was still holding off but felt the need for a break.
It turned out that my daughter had no hesitation is asking me for sex advice when it doesn't concern her personally. Where she's concerned I'm an ignorant old man who doesn't understand the younger generation. Where other people are involved I become the fount of all knowledge. She put Natasha's dilemma to me. Should she or shouldn't she?
I could understand the boyfriend's urging Natasha to succumb to his charms. She was hot, with a capital H. If she was mine I'd be dragging her to bed at the first available opportunity. Since she wasn't mine, I could give objective advice.
"If she doesn't feel she's quite ready, then she's not ready," I said, "and should continue to say no. If she thinks she is ready, but doesn't want to sleep with her current boyfriend, then she needs to drop him and find someone more suitable. Alternatively, if she just wants a little more time, turn her boyfriend's argument against him. Tell him that if he really loves her and respects her he wouldn't be pressuring her like this, but would give her time to decide."
The last might slow the boyfriend down a little, even if it didn't stop him. It would give Natasha time to make up her mind.
"One last bit of advice," I added. "Don't put yourself in a situation where he might decide to make the decision for you. And don't say he's not like that. These things happen."
As far as I was concerned that was the end of the matter. Natasha and her boyfriend would either decide to advance their relationship or they might break up. It wasn't really any concern of mine. I effectively ignored the girls for the rest of the evening while they did their own thing, which seemed to involve a lot of talking, giggling, and phone use.
Everything was quiet when I finally went to bed. I fell asleep almost as soon as I hit the pillow. When I woke up it was pitch black and a quick check of the time showed me it was two in the morning. I didn't know, and didn't care, what woke me up. I just settled back down to go to sleep again. That's when I heard a noise.
If the lights had been on I'd have assumed that one of the girls was up and about for some reason, but no lights were showing. I decided to investigate. The noise had seemed to come from the kitchen so I headed on down that way. Reaching the doorway I quietly reached in and snapped on the light.
Natasha was standing in the middle of the kitchen. She didn't react to the light going on, just stood there.
"Natasha?" I called softly, and she didn't so much as blink.
She was dressed for bed, specifically for bed at someone else's house. Flannelette pyjamas, would you believe. A crime against nature those things, but she still managed to look hot and cute.
"Natasha," I repeated, somewhat louder, with still no reaction.
It was pretty obvious that she was sleepwalking. I decided that I wouldn't wake her; I'd just guide her back to bed.
"Come along," I said gently, giving the lapel of her pyjamas a slight tug.
I swear, that's all I did. Just took hold of her pyjama top and gave a slight tug to urge her to start walking. It wasn't my fault that the buttons were too small for the button holes. The top two buttons just popped free, showing off some very nice cleavage.
OK. I'll admit I may have been a trifle at fault over the next step. I gave another little tug at her top, just curious to see if the other buttons would pop free, which they did. I couldn't resist just holding the sides of her top apart, admiring the view. If her boyfriend got to see her that way it was no wonder he was clamouring for more.
Ever done something you know you shouldn't just because you thought you could get away with it? Natasha's top seemed to me to be a trifle large. More a man's top than a woman's. I gently lifted the sides, pushing the shoulders back off her and then released the top. It was loose enough, and heavy enough, to just slither down her arms and drop off, leaving her standing there, topless.
Once started, I saw no real reason to stop. Her pyjama pants were of a size to match the top, with the bottom of the legs rolled up slightly. They had a cord, tied at the waist to keep them up. The tie just had a simple bow, and a gentle tug on the bow brought it undone. Again I stepped back and let gravity work its wonders.
I was slightly irritated to see that she had a pair of panties on. Those I was going to have to leave. The pyjamas weren't my fault. They were just not done up properly and fell off. I would be able to say the same for her panties.
"Back to bed," I said quietly.
I placed a hand gently on her back and pushed lightly and Natasha started moving forward. I guided her back to the bedroom, carrying her pyjamas with me. Reaching the bedroom I flicked on the light and steered her over to the bed.
"Come on," I coaxed, still speaking in a nice soft voice. "Into bed."
Natasha climbed onto the bed and snuggled down. I dropped her pyjamas on the floor and climbed into bed next to her. Well, why shouldn't I? It was my bed. I also left the light on.
Natasha seemed to just automatically snuggle up to me, her bottom pressing against my groin. That would have had an interesting effect on me if it wasn't for the fact that the interesting effect had started as soon as I saw that first flash of cleavage. I slipped my arm around her, hand closing over her breast, stroking it.
It didn't take all that long for the message to seep into Natasha's sub-conscious, rousing her from her sleep. Also, hopefully, simply arousing her. I felt her stir as she woke, then I felt her stiffen; from shock I guess.
"Before you start screaming, why don't you look around and see exactly where you are," I suggested. (I also continued to stroke her breast. Why quit when you're having fun?)
With the light on it only took Natasha a moment to realise that she was not in the bedroom she'd started the night in.
"I heard you moving around. I turned on the light and you came wandering in. Your pyjamas hit the floor and you climbed into my bed. I was delightfully surprised. Also, terribly disappointed, when I realised that you were sleepwalking."
Isn't it amazing how you can lie in your teeth while telling the truth? I may have omitted a couple of minor details, but the gist of it was there.
Natasha took a deep breath. It pressed her breast more firmly against my hand, with the unfortunate side effect of bringing that to her attention.
"Um, your hand is on my breast," she mumbled.
"Indeed it," I agreed, "and a lovely breast it is."
"Could you move it, please?"
