***Author's note: It should, of course, go without saying, that anyone involved in any sexual activity is above the age of eighteen.***
1
Vincent was, without doubt, the
best
thing that had ever happened in Vanessa's life. But it took her the best part of twenty years to figure that out.
Before she experienced that
epiphany
, she had viewed him as something of an inconvenience. A
chore
, even. Yes, she supposed she
loved
him, he was her son after all, but it had never been a particularly intense or overwhelming bond. He had always been a good boy, obedient and well behaved, but he was also a complication, an occasional irritation, a
burden
. Something that had to be dealt with, rather than adored.
What on earth did she have in common with a young boy, anyway? Was she supposed to play catch with him in the back yard? Take him to a football game? Go fishing? Hardly. It got no easier, even as he got older. His interests and obsessions may have changed; her ambivalence did not. She had never really known how to relate or interact with her son. He was a
mystery
to her. Motherhood as a whole was a mystery. In so many ways, they were just two people living
separate
lives, who just happened to be in close proximity to one another. That's the way it was. That's the way it had always been.
It's not as if she had ever actually
wanted
to be a mother. Even as a child, she had shown no interest in playing with dolls, or acting out the mundane routines of domestic life. There were to be no make believe tea parties or playing house for this young girl. Babies just didn't interest her. They were not on her agenda.
And then, when she was eighteen, she got pregnant. Babies may not have interested her all that much but, increasingly, the way you
made
them certainly did.
She had actually been a fairly innocent teenager. Sure, she'd fooled around a little, doing some of the things teenagers did. Heavy petting, a little dry humping maybe. But she wasn't a particularly
wild child
. She didn't have a
reputation
for being
that
kind
of
girl
. But people began to notice her. She had become a quite stunning young woman. Puberty hit relatively late, but when it did, it hit pretty damn hard. It didn't exactly happen overnight, but when it did happen, it happened fast. And, as you might imagine, when a dramatic transformation like this takes place, people
noticed
. Older boys, older girls. Men. Women. Like moths to a flame, her rare beauty attracted attention. All
kinds
of attention. The
wrong
kind of attention.
One of those people doing the noticing was Charlie Lowen. He was 42 years old. He also happened to be her best friend's father.
Vanessa and
Emily
Lowen had met on the first day of term at the very expensive private school their respective parents had sent them to. Both of them had been dressed up in the prim and proper uniforms the school demanded all its pupils wear. Both of them seemed so small and so overawed by their new surroundings. They happened to be standing next to each other in the main school hall, and one girl had caught the other's eye. They had shared a shy, nervous smile. They had been pretty much inseparable ever since. Emily was an angelic little blonde, with huge blue eyes and a sweet disposition. The two girls spent endless hours in each other's company; so much time in fact, most people treated them as if they were sisters, rather than just best friends.
Charlie Lowen had
always
liked Vanessa. She was funny and bright and his daughter adored her. But she was a kid, so he didn't focus all that much attention on her. But then, by the time she was eighteen, he realised she certainly wasn't a kid anymore. At first, this fact sort of
amused
him. But over time it
aroused
him. Those prim and proper school uniforms looked a lot different on a nubile young woman, than they did on a little girl. And the sight of Vanessa walking round his house on one of his daughter's sleepovers, wearing nothing but a short little nightie and white cotton panties, triggered a whole new reaction now that she had physically matured.
And if Charlie had taken a not entirely innocent interest in his daughter's best friend; his daughter's best friend had long had a not entirely innocent interest in
him
. To put it simply, Vanessa was deeply, madly in love with Charlie Lowen. She had a massive crush on him; one that had evolved during her adolescence. When she was younger, it had been an almost sweet, adorable fixation. But as her body changed, and her sexuality blossomed, that fixation became a far more carnal and adult affair.
She did nothing about it, though. He was her best friend's dad, after all. She didn't see that much of him anyway. Mr Lowen was a busy man, always working, and Vanessa only caught the occasional glimpse of this rather stern, sexy figure in her life.
And she was becoming increasingly
busy
herself. Although she had been relatively late to the game, once Vanessa discovered sex, she dived in head first. Her previously innocent reputation was quickly discarded and she began notching up quite a series of conquests. She saw no shame or ignominy in promiscuity. Sex was an endlessly interesting, novel and exciting mystery. There was so much scope for variety and pleasure. There were so many people to sleep with. Vanessa genuinely didn't understand why
everyone
wasn't just fucking everyone else.
Her partners were numerous, mostly the boys and girls at school, although she did fuck one or two of her teachers. Any thoughts of Charlie Lowen were mostly forgotten, however. By then, she had totally discounted any idea of a sexual encounter with him. He was still her number one, go to masturbatory fantasy, but he was always just beyond her reach. He was unattainable, almost mythic. Fucking him was about as likely as fucking the president of the United States. At least that's what she thought.
But then came the night of Emily's eighteenth birthday party, and the idea turned out not to be so far fetched after all.
Vanessa was a couple of months older than Emily, so she had already reached that important milestone. The Prudhommes had celebrated her coming of age in a relatively low-key sort of way. They went out for a meal at a very classy Italian restaurant. All the Lowens were invited and everyone remarked how grown up and beautiful the two girls had looked. Both of them had made the effort to look as mature and sophisticated as possible. Charlie had spent most of the evening staring across the table at Vanessa. Every so often, she would catch him looking at her, and she would smile back at him. He was
hard
. She was
wet
.
Emily Lowen was never low-key. She was a vivacious firecracker, always the centre of attention; so her birthday celebrations were a considerably more grand affair. Her parents laid on a ginormous party and all her friends and family were in attendance. There was expensive catering, a professional band, and plenty of booze. Who cares about the legal age of drinking when you're rich?
All of Emily and Vanessa's friends were gorgeous young things, so the house was teeming with guys and gals, dressed up to the nines. Emily herself was very much the star of the show. She looked like a supermodel, tall and slim, with legs that seemed to go on for miles and miles and miles. She was wearing a slinky, metallic silver dress that went all the way down to the floor, with long slits that went all the way up to the top of her thighs.
If Emily was glamour and elegance, Vanessa was pure sexual charisma. She was a couple of inches shorter than her best friend, which was ironic bearing in mind she had always been the
taller
one when they were kids; but what she lacked in height, she more than made up for in
shape
. Vanessa had the perfect hourglass figure and a full, sensuous body. Emily's breasts were hardly small, but compared with Vanessa she seemed positively flat-chested.
Vanessa's dress was a deep green velvet, a colour that complimented beautifully the similarly deep red of her lustrous hair. And this dress was outrageously short. Practically every guy in the place had been trying to catch a glimpse up her skirt all night. It was a tight
bandeau
style dress, low cut and highlighting plenty of delicious cleavage.
She'd spent most of the evening showing off on the dance floor. Vanessa and Emily had put on quite a display, and there had been more than a few raised eyebrows when, at one point, they had started grinding their bodies together like a couple of cheap strippers. There had been some amusement when Emily grabbed hold of Vanessa's tits, but not many of the
guys
were laughing. If asked, the two young women would have written it off as a little fun and games, a little display of outrageousness to enliven the evening's proceedings, but both of them had been turned on by their performance. Their hearts were racing, their pussies were wet.
Charlie
had
noticed. He could see how excited they were. He recognised their arousal. He shared in it.
Both girls had danced with him at one point or another. Especially during the slower numbers. He had feigned a certain reluctance, but he had allowed himself to be dragged up on to the dance floor. He had been supremely conscious of their young, lithe bodies pressed against his. He had gotten hard dancing with both of them. Even with his daughter. Charlie had harboured some not entirely fatherly thoughts about her too, in recent years. He at least had the decency to feel a little ashamed of pressing his erection against her groin, trying to hide it as best he could.
He had no such qualms when it came to Vanessa. She had audibly gasped when she felt his rock hard cock the first time. But then she had smiled at him and pressed her body harder against his. Her hips swaying gently, his hand moving further down her back, getting closer to her butt. They gazed into each other's eyes, their bodies pressed together. The two of them were mere moments away from kissing, when Emily's mother had broken up the proceedings by bringing in the birthday cake. A rousing chorus of
Happy Birthday
followed. Charlie was stood right next to Vanessa as they all sang, his hand fondling her butt.
Much later on and the party was winding down. Most of the guests had departed and the catering staff were cleaning up. Emily, who'd always been a bit of a lightweight when it came to alcohol, had drunk a few too many
mimosas
and was throwing up in her
en suite
bathroom. Vanessa was made of sterner stuff. She was hidden away round the back of the pool house, necking a bottle of vodka and smoking a joint. Like most youngsters of their age and background, both Emily and Vanessa had experimented with drugs. Marijuana mostly, but pills on occasion. Vanessa had even snorted coke a couple of times, but she hadn't enjoyed it all that much.
She was stood there, quietly puffing away, when Charlie sneaked up behind her. He took a moment to just admire the view. She had slipped out of her high-heeled shoes and was stood barefoot in amongst the bushes. He examined her shapely legs, not as long as his daughter's, but certainly long enough. Her skin was soft and shiny, her muscles were toned. He could see them twitch and flex as she swayed from one leg to the other. Her butt was a thing of beauty, practically a work of art. Big, curvy buttocks, barely covered by the tight, elasticated material of her short, short dress. The skirt revealing dark tantalising shadows from between her legs. There wasn't enough light behind the pool house to ascertain whether she had on any underwear.
Charlie came up behind her, reached round and placed his hands over her eyes.
"Guess who." He said softly.
"I don't know." She said, grinning.
He slowly pushed his dick up against her butt, his erect cock resting between her cheeks.
"Uncle Charlie?" She giggled.
She had started calling him 'Uncle Charlie' years before. She had spent so much time in his house, it made a certain sense. It struck him as kind of sweet, when she was little. It had a very different tone to it, now she was all grown up.
"Who else?" He replied.
She turned round and looked up at him. Now she wasn't wearing any heels, he towered over her, a looming presence. Intimidating. Exciting. She looked up at him, then she she brought the joint to her lips and inhaled deeply. Then she exhaled, blowing a cloud of marijuana smoke right into his face.
"Do your parents know you're smoking this stuff?" He asked her, trying not to cough.
"Nah. They'd freak the fuck out if they knew I was doing weed. They're not as
cool
as you."
"Is that right?"
"Oh yeah."
