My Friend Megan

Megan was one of my better friends. When her parents were going away for the weekend and she didn't want to stay home by herself I had no qualms about inviting her home to spend the weekend with us. I might have considered being eighteen a little old to worrying about being home alone, but I guess we all have our little quirks.

It wasn't until she had settled in that I remembered another of her little quirks. She liked to flirt and tease, any man being fair game. I don't know if she went any further than flirting and teasing, but if she did she was very discreet about it. I'm sure you get the picture though. It was a weekend, so my father was home, so Megan was on full flirt and tease alert.

She wore clothes that were either too loose or too tight and sometimes both. Saturday afternoon was a case of both. She was wearing yoga-pants that looked as though they'd been painted on, and an oversize sloppy t shirt. When I delicately suggested that maybe the t-shirt was a little oversize she hastened to assure me otherwise.

"No way," she said. "Really, if I throw my shoulders back you can see for yourself how tight it is across the bust-line. My boobs are just too big. Maybe I should have a boob reduction."

Oh, yeah, I could see her agreeing to that happening. She was proud of her breasts, flaunting them even.

"Maybe if you wore a bra," I suggested, noticing that when she threw her shoulders back her breasts pressed firmly against the t-shirt and you could see the dark patch of her nipples and surrounds.

"No need," she said, dismissing the suggestion airily. "My breasts are quite capable of supporting themselves without a bra and it's too hot for one anyway."

I'd made the suggestion and now I shut-up. Anything else on the subject and I'd be a nark and carrying on. I just let her go, although I did wonder how my parents would react.

I might have guessed. My father very carefully didn't notice Megan's clothes and my mother noticed but only showed indifference. She wouldn't have been nearly as indifferent if I'd been wearing that outfit.

What did irritate my mother slightly was Megan going into full flirt and tease mode. She started off with some playful flirting, a slight innuendo in her chattering, a playful smile, and artful look, keeping a watch on my father to see how he was reacting. With total indifference I was pleased to see. It was funny watching Megan throwing herself in his direction only to fall flat each time, my father not even noticing what she was doing.

With her flirting not getting her anywhere Megan switched to straight teasing, and she didn't muck around with it, either. She found reasons to bend over, showing of her rump with those yoga-pants apparently painted on. She would lean forward, letting the neck-line of her t-shirt gape, giving an excellent view all the way down to her navel. Casually lifting a hand to scratch her head seemed to leave her arm hole gaping wide, providing a side view of her breasts. My mother quietly fumed but was too polite to say anything and my father quietly failed to notice anything out of the ordinary. (I was quite certain that he noticed; he just wasn't going to let on that he'd noticed.)

I did have a mild go at Megan about what she was doing. She was just amused and a little bit miffed, mainly by the way my father seemed completely oblivious to her charms. Her feelings seemed to be that if he had any masculinity at all then he should have been ogling her. I just laughed at her, telling her she was too young for him, and she looked at me.

"Any man who's a real man lusts after attractive eighteen year old girls," she flatly stated. "Maybe your father is secretly gay."

"And maybe you haven't got what it take to get an older man," I observed. "Perhaps you'd better stick to men your own age."

"Tried them," she said with a laugh. "I'm after a bit more of a challenge now."

Subsequent to that little chat Megan turned up the heat a little, but all that achieved was to drive my father into seclusion. He vanished into the main bedroom with a beer and watched a game on the TV. Even Megan wasn't game to follow him into his bedroom.

We finally retired for the night. The day had been hot and the night was going to be rather warm so Megan and I had our lightest nightwear on, me in a light nighty and her in flimsy baby-doll pyjamas. The only covers we required were sheets. We'd had rather a hectic day and I fell asleep quite fast.

Something woke me in the small hours. It was still dark but I could see a glimmer of light coming through the open bedroom door, just enough light to let me see Megan wasn't in her bed. Probably got up to use the bathroom or get a drink, I assumed. I tried to fall back asleep but that thought about a drink had got to me. It was still hot and I was thirsty.

I got out of bed and padded out into the hallway, intending to head towards the kitchen. Once I was in the hallway I saw that the glimmer of light I'd detected actually came from the front room, not the bathroom or kitchen as I would have expected. Assuming someone had left a light on I headed that way first, intending to turn the light off.

Reaching the door way I came to an abrupt halt. The light that was on was a reading lamp that focused on a chair, spilling light further into the room. Because the lamp was situated next to the wall near the doorway I was effectively behind the light, meaning I could see in but anyone on the other side of the lamp wouldn't be able to see me. I'd just be blended into the dark behind the lamp.

I on the other hand had an excellent view of Megan, on all fours on the carpet in the middle of the room. The bottom half of her baby-doll's had been pushed down to her knees and the top half had been pushed up under her arms, letting her breasts swing free. That wasn't all she had on. By no means. She was also sporting a red ball-gag, firmly in place with a leather strap holding it there.

She was currently shaking her head in what I suppose could be taken as a sign of rejection as to what was happening.

My father hadn't been quite as oblivious to her teasing and tempting as he'd pretended. He was kneeling beside her, one hand firmly on her back, holding her in place, his other hand between her legs, and from the motions he was making I could guess what Megan might have been objecting to.

From the way Megan was reacting to his touch I'd have to say my father was quite experienced at what he was doing. Every so often she seemed to give a little jerk, her bottom lifting a little higher as though trying to get away from his marauding fingers, at which times a muffled sound would escape past the gag. If I had my guess I'd say she'd have been screaming blue murder without that gag in place.

At one point Megan lifted her hand towards the gag only to have my father stop touching her up long enough to give a quick slap to her bottom with a warning growl. Not what you would call a hard spank, but certainly a warning that a hard spank could follow.

"Had enough of this?" my father finally asked. "Want me to stop it now?"

Megan promptly gave a very energetic nod.

"I hoped you'd say that," he continued. "I thought you'd be ready for this by now."

Megan jerked her head around to stare at him and I could hear a lot of squeaking trying to come past the mask while she shook her head frantically. The reason for this sudden reaction on her part was probably due to the fact that my father had dropped his pyjamas and his ongoing intentions were writ large, you might say. Very large, and that's an objective opinion as I'd never have to worry about that thing.

My father moved around to kneel behind Megan while she started trying to move away from him. She didn't achieve anything as his hand simply settled firmly on her hips, holding her in place.

"Stop being silly, Megan," he said, adjusting his position.

I could see his cock was pressing against her entrance and then Megan gave a spasmodic jerk as he pushed and just like that his cock was invading her. I assumed that he'd just stick it in hard and fast but it appears a man learns something as he gets older. He was certainly sliding into her, because I could see it happening, and more muffled squeaks were creeping around the gag. (If he asked I'd have told him to buy a large one for someone with a mouth as large as Megan's.)

To my surprise he stopped when he was about half way in. To Megan's surprise as well from the way she fell silent. Maybe she was hoping that was all there was. If so she was about to find out otherwise.

"I've done my part," Dad said. "Time for you to do yours. Push aback against me until I'm fully home."

Megan's head came up and she was shaking it. She had no intention of helping him.

"Of course, if you're reluctant I can always pass the time by paddling your pretty little tush," my father added, sounding rather thoughtful.

I saw Megan's face as she turned to look at him and she was glaring something chronic. She also started to push slowly back against him, taking him deeper, her bottom rising slightly as she completed skewering herself.

"Very good," my father said warmly as she finally reached a point where she was rubbing her pussy against his groin. "Now let's get the show on the road."

With his hands on her hips, holding her where he wanted her, he pulled slowly back, returning in a great rush, her whole body jolting from the strength of his thrust. That was just the start, of course. He went on doing the same thing. I was rather surprised at his technique. A man of his age should have learnt a lot more finesse.

That a man of his age had a lot of stamina, was something he demonstrated. He kept up the same rhythm, a slow withdrawal and then the slap of flesh against flesh as he drove fiercely home. I think Megan might have been whimpering a little at the start but it wasn't long before I saw her flexing her hips and pushing firmly to meet him as he drove in.

There was no variation to his pace. He just kept going and going. After a while Megan seemed to be moving around oddly, trying to get him to do more from the look of it. It didn't faze him in the slightest, he just ploughed relentlessly onward.

I could tell when Megan climaxed. Her whole body seemed to spasm and the loudest squeak yet escaped around her gag. My father held still, deep inside her, just letting her go.

When Megan quietened down a little he moved his hands from her hips to her breasts, cupping them and squeezing them.

"Now that you're warmed up, let's get on with it," he told her, and he started in again.

There was a remarkable change in his style now. He was still moving with a certain firmness but there was no more hesitations on pulling back or rough thrusts forward. He'd gone from Mr Rough to Mr Smooth, his action now a smooth glide that very quickly had Megan enraptured.

Instead of being on hands and knees her arms collapsed, folded in front of her with her head resting on them. She had a distracted expression on her face, her eyes half closed, as she humped her tush to match his movements. If you'd taken the gag off she'd have been saying, "Oh yes," in a most dreamy manner.

After performing like this for a while he started picking up speed as he went, probably getting ready for his own climax. Megan's eyes suddenly flared wide open, and I knew she was heading for another climax of her own. I could tell when she had this one, too, the look on her face was enough to tell me. From the way my father was carrying on he was probably shooting his load at the same time. Well done old man. That'll teach her to go teasing you.

I faded quietly away. I didn't particularly want them to come out and catch me. I nipped down to the kitchen and grabbed a drink of water and then I was back in my bed, fast.

I stayed awake for a while and it was a good ten minutes before Megan came sneaking back into the room. She hopped in bed and was asleep almost immediately. That's the benefit of a little exercise. It helps you sleep.

Come the morning Megan didn't say one word about her midnight misadventure. I watched to see how she reacted when my father appeared and she didn't even bat an eyelid. Instead of backing off her flirting and teasing remained the same, possibly a bit more pronounced. I had another word with her.

"Megan, if you don't tone it down a little you could get yourself into strife, you know," I told her.

"Don't be silly," she retorted. "After all, you're right here with me so what's he going to do? Can you really see him doing something with you watching?"