Unexpected Visitor 7

Tom had been cleaning out some of his cupboards, digging into them and locating things that he didn't use. Not only not use but, in some instances, didn't know he possessed and wouldn't know what to do with anyway. These latter items tending to be things that his late wife had accumulated. Rather than just throw them out he gave Heather, his daughter, a call. Why yes, dad, I would love to possess some of those things, was her attitude. It was a case of bring the lot over and she'd go through it. What she didn't want her housemates might. The remainder, if any, she'd donate to charity.

On Saturday morning Tom stuck the boxes of unwanted items in his car and drove around to where his daughter resided. When Heather had expressed a strong desire to move out of home he'd let her have one of his rental properties. Sub-letting some of the rooms provided her with some additional cash. He considered Saturday morning the best time to make the delivery on the grounds that Heather and her housemates would be home and they could pack the boxes inside.

Arriving, Tom rang the bell and waited. Waited some more. Rang the bell again. Resignedly he fished out his keys and unlocked the door. Walking in he called out and received no answer. Shrugging, he headed down towards his daughter's bedroom, assuming that she was sleeping in. Not an unusual occurrence for a young woman in her late teens, though he did wonder where her housemates were. They couldn't all be asleep, surely?

There was a young lady sprawled on top of the bed. Considering the hot weather Tom couldn't blame her for not being under the covers. He also quite approved of the fact that she had chosen to only wear panties and singlet to bed. He might not have been quite so blasé if the young lady had been his daughter, but she wasn't. A total stranger was looking at him with startled eyes.

"Who are you and where's Heather?" asked Tom.

At the same time the stranger chimed in with, "Who are you, and you've got a hell of a nerve barging into my house?"

Tom shrugged and answered her question.

"I'm Tom, Heather's father, and her landlord. Technically that makes it my house, not yours. The reason I ask who you are is because I know you're not one of the tenants."

"If you're the landlord you're not supposed to enter without permission and you have to give us notice."

"True, but I'm not here as the landlord. I'm here as Heather's father and as her father I don't need to have permission to visit her. You still haven't answered my questions. While you're at it you can tell me where everyone else is. The place normally seems to be crawling with people."

He was amused to see that the young woman hadn't tried to flick the covers over herself, simply remaining where she was. Admittedly, the singlet and panties covered her charms, but only just. He looked, admired, and waited.

"I'm Michelle," she finally said. "They call me Mish. I was out with Heather last night and decided to crash here rather than go on home. Heather got an early morning call asking if she could do the early shift at work as they've got a couple of people away with the flu."

Figured, thought Tom. That's probably the only thing that would have got her out of bed early on a Saturday.

"One of the girls went with Heather to do an early shift. The others said that as Heather and Sandra had woken them with their rushing around they were going to get up and go shopping. I decided that with everyone else gone I'd get some more sleep."

"Now that you know everything, including the fact that Heather isn't here, feel free to go away."

"Yes, I might just do that, but I do have to bring some things in from the car first. Do you want to come and help me?"

"Dressed like this?"

"I'd have no objections," Tom assured her. "Not a single one."

"I'll pass," said Mish with a laugh.

Tom grinned and moved closer to the bed, looking down at Mish. A very nice piece of feminine pulchritude. He wouldn't mind seeing her without the underwear.

"That singlet - is it yours?"

Mish blinked and looked down at the singlet she was wearing. She shook her head.

"Ah, no, it's an old one of Heathers. She let me have it for nightwear. Why?"

"Because it looks old and a little tatty and I don't think it will matter much if I ripped it apart, taking it off you."

"You want me to take my singlet off?" asked Mish, sounding slightly offended.

"That's not what I said," Tom pointed out. "I want to take hold of it and rip it off you."

"You're crazy. Why would you want to do that?"

"It's on my bucket list. Find a pretty girl wearing a singlet and rip it off her. Also, it's blocking my view of what appears to be a very nice chest. I find I really want to see that chest without the singlet. I just feel that it will add something to my viewing experience if I take that singlet and shred it to clear the way."

Tom smiled pleasantly, while Mish looked slightly shocked. Taking his time he reached down. There were a couple of small holes worn through the material just below the neck-line. He was sure that if he slipped a finger into each one and pulled the singlet would be history.

Mish, he noted, wasn't trying to stop him, not even edging away. She was just watching as his hands came reaching down. She seemed to hold her breath as his forefingers poked through the holes he'd spotted, enlarging them slightly. Taking his time he pulled his hands slowly in opposite directions, the worn material just ripping apart like so much tissue, leaving Mish wearing tatters that did nothing to conceal her breasts.

Tom lightly touched each one, pressing against each of her nipples.

"Very nice," he said approvingly. "Very nice indeed."

"I-I can't believe you had the nerve to do that."

I can't believe you had the nerve to just lie there and let me was Tom's foremost thought.

"What next?" demanded Mish. "Are you going to rip my panties off, too?"

"Don't be childish," Tom reprimanded. "The idea is ridiculous. A nice pair of lacy panties like those should be drawn off slowly and lovingly."

To demonstrate the correct way to remove a nice pair of lacy panties Tom reached down, hooked hold of them with a finger on either side and took them down, moving slowly, waiting for Mist's (non-existent) protest. Standing back he nodded his approval of the naked form lying before him.

"The question now," he said, his voice a little husky with suppressed passion, "is do I take the time to seduce you or do I take you now without trying to seduce? If I go ahead and take you now would you cooperate or would I need to force you?"

"You surely don't expect me to cooperate, do you? And I'm not lying here waiting for you to seduce me. If you want to take me now you'll have to rape me." It seemed to Tom that there was quite a bit of heated passion in Mish's voice.

Tom eased her legs slightly apart, still encountering no resistance from Mish. His hand slid along her mound, feeling her, feeling her heat. He rubbed gently.

"You're saying you won't cooperate?"

Mish shook her head. "If you want me you must rape me," she repeated.

"I must?" Tom asked, rubbing slightly harder.

"You must."

Tom straightened up and started undoing his belt.

"If you rape me I will yell and scream," Mish told him, "and I can yell quite loudly."

"You know there's no-one in the house to hear you?"

Mish nodded, squirming a little as his hand continued to play with her, stroking and probing lightly.

"It's the principle of the thing," she said, her voice sounding rather hoarse.

Her principles didn't seem to include active resistance or an attempt at discouragement. Screaming he could put up with.

Trousers off, erection ready, Tom moved a little closer. Then he stopped.

"What are you doing?" Mish asked as he started taking off his shirt.

"You're naked," Tom pointed out. "It just seems to me that it would be insulting if I wasn't naked as well. It's the principle of the thing."

Mish bit her lip, trying not to laugh. He was deliberately mimicking her.

Still grinning Tom moved forward again. He gave Mish a wink and his hands closed over her ankles. It was the work of a moment to lift them high and moving them well apart, at the same time climbing up onto the bed and settling between her parted thighs.

With her legs held high and pushed forward Mish found herself in the unusual position of looking at her own pussy. She was also looking at an erection that was approaching it, intent obvious. She watched fascinated, not struggling to avoid what was coming and almost forgetting her promise to scream. Almost.

She was finding it hard to believe that this was happening. She was also finding it almost unbearably exciting. He'd just walked in, seen her, liked what he saw and was now going to take her. She had a feeling that he'd back off if she really resisted, but found herself unwilling to insist. It was just the impression he gave. However, as long as she limited her protests to the purely verbal, no worries; he'd as much as said so.

His cock was touching her, starting to press into her. My god, she could see her lips parting in anticipation of what was coming. She almost pressed upwards to hurry him up; why was he taking so long? Then he was entering her and she screamed.

"Aargh! My god, you're actually doing it. You're having sex with me. How can you do this to me? Oh, you bastard. It's too big. It'll hurt me. My god, how can I face my friends after this. Oh, you rotten swine. You're nothing but a brute, an animal. How can you fall upon an innocent young woman and fuck her like this? Oh! Oh! Oh, you're going in too deep."

Tom faltered for a second in startled surprise before forging ahead. She'd said she was going to scream but he'd been expecting a few ladylike squeals, not this whole-hearted bellowing and cursing. Innocent young woman, she claimed. If she was so innocent then how come she was pushing smartly up to meet him? She was certainly not a virgin. He did his best to tune out the noise, pushing manfully in.

Mish was having fun. She was having sex (reluctantly, of course) and also having the fun of yelling and swearing. Goodness. She was almost shocked to hear some of the things she was saying, the abuse she was raining down upon him. If her mother heard her swearing like that she'd be grounded for a week, adult or not. Oh my, he was nice and large, filling her to capacity.

Tom found that despite Mish's cries and protests her legs had come down from where he'd pushed them, wrapping around him tightly. While his hands were now on her breasts, fondling them firmly, her hands were on his back. Well her fists were, as she hammered at his back, quite firmly, too. He remembered the length of her nails and almost winced. Thank god she wasn't trying to scratch him.

Tom settled into his stroke, driving in hard. Mish's legs were tight around him, flexing in time to his movements, helping to pull him deeply in. He just wished she would shut up a little, although he had to admit she had an extraordinary range of invective.

He was relieved to find her tirade winding down as they proceeded on their happy way. Her shrieks of, "Oh my god, I can't believe you're fucking me," dwindled away, becoming a wailed, "You're fucking me," and finishing up as the occasional, "Fuck me," which seemed more of a request than a protest.

Mish was trying to keep up the abuse but she was finding it difficult. How the hell were you supposed to express your outrage when a cock was doing such wonderful things to you? She did her best to keep it up for appearances sake but was aware that she was starting to sound more encouraging that abusive. Maybe it was time to shut up and suffer in silence.

For a short while there was silence apart from the sound of two bodies slapping against each other. The silence didn't remain. Mish just couldn't remain silent.

"Oh my god, I'm being fucked," she muttered, but now sounding as though she approved. She continued muttering, starting to urge Tom on, her voice rising, little encouraging sounds spilling from her lips.

Mentally, Tom was shaking his head. Was Mish ever quiet he wondered? Not that he was complaining. He actually found her verbal gymnastics amusing. Her new enthusiasm was contagious as well. He was hitting her harder now, moving faster, feeling her clinging tighter as she urged him on. The good times were finishing and the end was coming fast.

Tom was to find that Mish threw him one last surprise. She climaxed, and from her reactions she climaxed hard. What surprised Tom was that she climaxed silently. He'd been expecting a scream even louder than any before. He'd had his own climax, almost at the same time and he was feeling content. He lay on the bed next to her, breathing hard.

"Aren't you supposed to be bringing things in from your car rather than lying around molesting the residents?" asked Mish after a while.

"You're not a resident. You're a visitor," Tom pointed out. "Besides, it would be rude for me to go outside right now. I have no clothes on."

"I noticed. Believe me, I noticed. That was actually a gentle hint that maybe you should put your clothes on and go away."

"Oh. You have to remember, I'm a man. Men don't do gentle hints very well. You have to flatly tell us what you want us to do."

"Or not do, it seems. Didn't my screams hint that maybe you shouldn't be doing something?"

"Ah, not really. I just thought that you were excited. You'll find that men interpret what they hear so it means what they want it to mean."

Mish thought of hitting him but decided not to. He would wonder what it was for. She sighed.

"Tom."

"Yes?"

"Get dressed and bring in the things from your car. I'm going to have a shower."

"A shower sounds like a great idea," Tom said approvingly. "I'll come with you and wash your back. You don't need to worry. It's highly unlikely that I will try to molest you in the shower. Unlikely, anyway. Well, I probably won't, but I won't guarantee it. Up you get."

Mish found herself being hauled off the bed and shepherded towards the bathroom.

"I'm warning you, if you try and touch me in the shower, I'll scream."

"Why? There's no-one to hear you."

- - -

"Ah, Mish, whatever happened to that old singlet I lent you? I found it under the bed absolutely shredded."

"Oh, sorry about that, Heather. It got caught on something and tore."

"Tore is right. What on earth did you catch it on?"

"Um, I believe it was your father's fingers."