My Best Friend's Daughter

Please note - this is a taboo story but, so far, it does not include incest. If you are expecting incest you will be disappointed.

We had been driving for half an hour now and Anne's hand had not left my thigh for a second. Her grip was firm but not tight. But its message was clear - Anne was telling me that she owned me and she could put her hands on her property anytime and for as long as she liked. I daren't turn to face her because I feared my face would reveal too much about the turmoil I was in. The feeling of her hand, so unrelentingly claiming my thigh, was all I could focus on. It was a good job the motorway was quiet and the car almost drove itself on cruise these days as my head was swimming with thoughts.

How could I extricate myself from my predicament? I had fucked Anne's mother just this morning, in her bedroom and directly against the one clear instruction she had given me, not to touch her mum who was not only married but also emotionally vulnerable due to the said marriage being close to falling apart. If Anne found out she had the power to blow my life apart given I had fucked my best friend's daughter on her 18th birthday. It wasn't just a complete breach of trust and betrayal of my friend Kate, but also would make me look like a predator just waiting for my prey to turn legal before I fucked her. The fact that it was Anne who took advantage of me in my early morning sleepy haze would not butter any parsnips with a single one of my friends.

She had demanded that I stay away from her mother and provide her with a flat in Manchester, where she was soon to study at University, and to provide any other support she may desire at any time. But, and this is the bit I couldn't quite shake from my mind when trying to construct my escape plan, she had pretty-well intimated that she would continue to fuck me because she enjoyed it.

So was my failure to come up with a plan to free myself from her grip because deep down I wanted to fuck her again and again because she was truly the hottest woman I had ever fucked, by a long way?

Or, given how I was now obsessing about the feeling of her hand on my thigh, was my failure because deep down I actually wanted, needed even, to be controlled in this way? Had Anne, unwittingly or otherwise, stumbled across and awoken a previously hidden part of my sexual psyche? Every-time I contemplated my powerlessness, felt Anne's dominance in her hand grasping my thigh, realised my inability to take back control and remove her hand from my body, I felt my desire for her grow.

I had heard about men who enjoyed being dominated, maybe even visited dominatrixes to be whipped and humiliated, but it had never really formed part of my fantasies. I tended to stroke to fairly vanilla porn I thought. I was of course a sucker for a cute bum, a tight cheek, a sweaty crack, a puckered hole, everything to do with the butt to be honest. But that was just normal wasn't it? I mean, to see an ass and to be aroused is nothing special. Maybe my desire to smell and taste it as much as to fuck it isn't exactly run-of-the-mill but it seemed perfectly natural to me.

So why was my cock so hard right now?

I can't blame the vibrations of the engine - I drive electric these days. Smooth a drive as you could wish for.

I can't blame Anne's teasing hand movements up and down my thigh - because her hand was completely motionless. It just held on to my thigh, firmly but not uncomfortably so (although not exactly comfortably so either), neither squeezing, rubbing nor tickling. Just sitting there, reminding me who was in charge.

I had to say something. It had been too long sitting in silence and my mind was going into overdrive, thinking too much.

"Anne, may I ask you something please?" I thought I'd ease into this.

"I will give you one more chance to ask me properly if you don't want me to crush your balls right here and now" was the reply, Anne not even turning to face me as she delivers her threat.

"Sorry Miss Anne. I forgot. May I ask you a question about what you have in store for me, for us, please?"

"That's better. Good boy." This time Anne turned to face me and smiled, a warm affectionate smile, a reward for my compliance. "How do you mean? What do I have in store?"

"What are your plans for me? Where do you see this going? How long will it last? How will it end?" I asked, spilling out my anxieties now.

"I have no idea!" Anne was smiling even more now, as she strokes the side of my head with affection. "I hadn't really planned that far ahead. I just knew I wanted to fuck you and to stop you fucking my mum.

That's all."

"But you've done those things now. You have achieved both things. We fucked and I can't ever possibly start anything with your mum now." I lied, I had too. "Why don't we just chalk this one up to experience and move on. I'll still always support you in anyway I can. You've always been special to me, my best friends kid"

"What you're missing though is what I want, what I need. I enjoyed fucking you. I want to do it again. And I also realised that I like having control over you. When you kissed my feet earlier I wasn't sure if you would but it made me so hot. When I made you cum inside me when we fucked this morning I loved knowing you couldn't resist me. I'm not about to give up on this any time soon." Anne explained with her usual directness and charm.

Her words almost made sense to me. Of course they made sense, intellectually, there was nothing complicated in what she said. What I mean is that her words made sense to me, emotionally. It was dawning on me that I had loved being so entranced by this young yet powerful and sexy woman that I was unable to act rationally when she straddled me and took my dick inside her. I loved feeling helpless and powerless, unable to resist her. And when she slapped me and had me kiss her feet, I don't know, somehow it felt right, it felt safe. Here was the emotionally security I craved, I guess.

My thoughts had led to a silence, which hadn't gone unnoticed.

"I think you understand. Don't you? I think you can't say no to me. Am I right?" Anne squeezed me that bit more firmly with her hand, her nails ever so slightly digging into my skin.

"Yes Miss Anne." I said, keeping my eyes on the road but acknowledging I was coming to terms with my fate.

"Good boy. And good boys get treats."

At which point Anne finally releases her grip from my thigh, but only so her hand can now grasp my already hard cock.

"See I knew you couldn't resist me." Anne said, feeling the heat and the hardness of my cock and what it revealed about my weakness to her charms.

"Miss Anne. You are the sexiest, hottest, most desirable woman I have ever had sex with in my entire life. By a country mile. Having sex with you was amazing. But it is also so wrong, you must see that?"

"I don't. It's just sex. I'm an adult now. I can decide what's right and what's wrong for me. And this feels right. And you're dick agrees!" Anne teases me with an extra long stroke and squeeze of my dick. "And it might be wrong if you had used your power to gain control over me. But you didn't. Because you don't have any with me, let's face it."

"Mmmffff" was all I could muster in response now as Anne had unzipped my jeans and released my cock with her hand, which was now stroking me vigorously. She was demonstrating her power and control in a very practical way.

"Tell me to stop and I will. Or tell me you accept my authority over you and I will make you cum. I will take you into my mouth right now and suck every drop of cum from you. It's your choice. This is your last opportunity to get out and take your chances. But you know you will never again have someone who you desire so much, so willing to suck you dry while you drive home. It's now or never."

While giving me this 'choice' Anne had continued to stroke. Her hand working from base to tip, her thumb working across the head to claim the precum, now oozing from me, to use as lube. She was leaning across, closer, so she could whisper her words directly into my ear, feeling her warm breath on my face. My fate was sealed.

"Tell me you are mine now. You are my property. My bitch!"

"Yes Miss Anne! I am yours. Only yours. I will be anything you want me to be. Miss Anne please!"

I was getting louder and louder as I spoke these words, more and more frantic, as Anne took my dick into her mouth. Her hot wet mouth was now my whole world, her tongue played with my cock at first, but then as she took me deeper I felt her suck, her cheeks and tongue create a vacuum around my shaft, a force that I could no resist no more than the laws of nature could. As she sucked any final semblance of resistance crumbled and I reached my third climax of the day. I roared my submission there and then. "Oh Miss Ann. Fuck Miss Anne, I'm yours, your bitch. Only yours. Fuck."

As she sucked every last drop from my totally spent balls, swallowed my cum and released my softening dick from her prison, my world seemed like the perfect idyllic, serene and warm and safe. Anne may be barely an adult but she had a power, a confidence, and a wisdom to know herself that I have not seen in women with many times her tender years on the clock.

Knowing her task of completely subduing her prey was now complete, my new owner could demonstrate her authority by titling her seat back and falling asleep for the rest of the journey down the M6 to Manchester. She had no need to be worried. I had been broken.

The journey home was unremarkable from there on. Miss Anne had released me from her physical grip but her psychological one was as intense as ever. My mind wandered as I drove. I had climaxed three times in one day. Had I ever done that before? After such a barren period in my life it was especially welcome, the feeling of being so utterly drained was a new experience for me. Was this a sign of my life to come? Is this how Miss Anne would maintain her hold over me? It was guaranteed to work, that much I did know.

As I pulled into my street I gently tapped Miss Anne on the shoulder and told her we had arrived. As I pulled over to park I looked down at her curled up on her seat and began to stir, her eyes blinking in the afternoon light. As her gaze focused on mine, her eyes still half asleep but more beautiful than ever, twinkling with warmth and tenderness, it struck me then how much trouble I was in.Not the previous trouble, a new trouble. Love. I could very easily fall in love with this angel I thought and at that point it's game over, the point of no return.

I rushed out to carry the bags and open the door. I prayed the house wasn't in too much of a mess. I hadn't expected visitors and although I usually kept the house relatively tidy my brain wouldn't help me remember if this was the the case yesterday. I was desperate not to disappoint Miss Anne, I would hate for her impression of my home to be that of a slob.

Thankfully it wasn't too bad. Just a few books on the sofa and a couple of coffee mugs to clear up I was swept through the plunge to the kitchen.

"Make yourself comfortable Miss Anne. Would you like a glass of wine? I have red or white?"

"Ooh you choose. I'm going to make myself at home on this sofa." Anne replied, slumping down on the sofa, betraying her teenage years.

I quickly slipped out my phone and messaged Kate. I was a parent too and always appreciated a message to know a loved one had arrived safe and sound. << we've arrived safely, your precious daughter already slumped in sofa demanding wine! 😜 Flat hunting starts first thing in the morning.>>

Feeling happier I'd touched base with Kate I opened a bottle of red, poured Miss Anne and myself a generous glass each, and returned to the lounge, to where Miss Anne had taken charge of the sofa, stretching out full length. Her legs were a marvel, so long and athletic, so smooth and lightly tanned. She still looked divine in her summer dress, and I must have dawdled a little too long to allow the image to burn itself into memory, because Anne had become impatient now.

"Here please, I'm thirsty!" She snapped.

"Sorry Miss." I handed her the glass and stood wondering where I might sit. I was a single man, I only had the one sofa.

"Sit there. I have a job for you anyway." Anne explained, pointing to the floor beside the sofa.

I'm 54 so it took me a while to get down there, but I wasn't hesitating. Just stiff from the drive. As I finally arrived in a seated position I was greeted with Miss Anne's left foot, wiggling in front of my face.

"I'll have another kiss please" Anne chuckled as she mimicked a cute mouse-like voice as if from the foot itself. "And then I'll have a massage please."

I set aside my wine hoping I could return to it before too long (I thought the day I had just had merited a glass or two!) and set to my task. I would dedicate myself to this foot's pleasure I thought to myself.

Cradling it gently in both my hands I lifted it ever so slightly and stooped to me it with my lips. I caressed the tip of each toe with the slightest of kisses, intent on taking this slowly and gradually turning up the intensity. I trace each toe along the top of the foot to the ankle, again a slightest of touches just to spark the nerves into life. A quick glance up at Miss Anne's face told me she was happy with how I had started, and I wondered if she had ever had a proper foot massage and worship before?

I lifted the foot higher now until its sole was facing me. I used my thumbs to gently massage at the muscles on the base of her foot, those fleshy pads under each toe, along the arch and lightly into the heel. I follow up with kisses along the length of the sole too, before returning to the massage with my thumbs, only firmer and deeper this time. As I sense Miss Anne's foot relax I begin to run my thumb and forefinger along the back of the heel, either side of the Achilles and into the calf. I feel the tension and soothe it away. Anne's slight murmurs of satisfaction encourage me to continue, rubbing the top of her foot with my fingers, across the ankle and up the lower half of the shin. Over and over again.

While I am down there I take the time to focus on the foot in other ways too. I marvel at how clean they are, how smooth and unblemished, reminding me that they haven't been hauling around an overweight body for 54 years. Anne's odour is only slight, and there's as much a scent of soap as there is sweat even though the feet were showered much earlier this morning after our dawn sex. I wanted whatever aroma was available though and so returned to massaging the base, I took each toe into my mouth in turn, my tongue circling each one, delving into the tight spaces between to retrieve whatever moisture and tastes they could afford me. I wanted to experience every sensation from these feet.

"Mmmmm that's so good, my boy. I never knew you were such a foot-fetishist. I love that. I've always loved my foot being rubbed. My dad used to do it for me when I was younger but stopped when I became a teenager. I have missed this so much."

"I love your feet. I could do this every day for you Miss Anne. I would love that." I replied, and meant every word.

Anne's mention of her dad in reference to me sucking her toes did throw me a little though. Is that what this is all about - Anne missing the physical affection of her father since she reached puberty?

I didn't ponder this for long though because Anne's foot was now nestling onto my crotch while her right foot was waving for attention before my face.

"Now do exactly the same with this foot. There's a good boy." Anne instructed. I obeyed.

I can't pretend I was as devoted to that second foot as I had been to the first. That was entirely the responsibility of said first foot though, which was doing its best to distract me by kneading my cock and balls while I tried to provide tender care of its partner. But it seems Miss Anne was, thankfully, satisfied with my work because her mumblings of "oh good boy" and "oh that's it, just like that" were accompanied by a rewarding hastening of the rubbing from her foot in my groin. I knew when I was onto a good thing!

"Ok that will do. It's my turn now. You've had yours. Cone and see to your princess properly now." Miss Anne commanded, spreading her thighs for me and beckoning me in.

I was speechless once again and quietly and calmly did as I was told. This following orders was a true joy I had decided.

Miss Anne pulled up the skirt of her dress just enough to expose her simple cotton white panties to me. I could see, in the shadows, the beginnings of a moist spot, just below the dark area where her pubic hair was showing through the loose weave of the panties. My dick responded in the time-honoured fashion to the wonders I saw before me, and the anticipation of more.

"Now keep your fingers and especially your silly dick away from me. Right now it's your face I want, do you understand?"

"Yes Miss Anne. My face can't wait to be yours." I was understating my desperation however.

"Wait, one second."

At that Anne stood up right above me, her panties just an inch from my face, her dress resting on the top of my head, as she slowly began to lower her panties to permit me access. I watched intently as her thumbs hooked inside the waistband and gradually began their descent, revealing the heaven-sent delights for me to enjoy. Anne's bush was darker hair than I had expected, not as fair as that on her head, but not exactly dark either. It was well trimmed and showed of the delights below perfectly. Her lips were shaved, her labia was soft and pink, with a tip of her inner lips just peaking out from between them, tempting me to take them between my own lips and be played with by my tongue.

But the greatest sensation was the aroma that emanated from those lips. Sweet and musky, but with the lightness of a flower. I inhaled deeply, determined to etch this smell into my memory so it could be recalled at will. My dick strained within the confines of my jeans now and leaked a few droplets in confirmation of my desire.

As Miss Anne returned to her seat on the sofa, legs spread wide for me I began my worship duties. Kisses from each knee, along the inner thigh, ever closer to the source of the nectar I desired above else. But I wanted Miss Anne to enjoy this first and foremost so resolved to take my time and ease her into a state of bliss before giving her release of climax.

My kisses eventually found their way to Anne's soft smooth labia. I marvelled at how tiny droplets of nectar glistened on the surface, betraying Anne's passion as surely as my dick had just done moments before. The tip of tongue glides its way along each labia, tasting each and every droplet on its way. The moisture that my tongues leaves in return, now cooling slightly in the air and almost tickling the sensitive skin. My tongue wants more though and finds its way between the labia to nurdle its way to the wet, warm folds within, working my way from the centre upwards to towards the hood. I feel you shake and tremble as my tongue touches Anne's clit for the first time, telling me to slow and wait just a little. I reverse but go deeper, lapping at the juices that are almost flowing from you now. As I head down my tongue finds the widening hole and reaches deep inside, sensing readiness. Anne's thighs clench the side of my head now, either to hold me still or to pull me in towards her, deeper inside her hole, I'm not sure which. I will learn this in time I promise Miss Anne.

As I return to her clit I recognise this time it is more prepared for my attentions, much firmer and larger than before. I take it between my lips, I suck on it gently, my tongue circling it and flicking it softly.

"All your tongue now baby. From the bottom to the top."