Trapper and Emmeline (18 page)

“I don’t mind,” I said.
I
had made Stace’s cock hard? Me? “I’m flattered.”

“It was your breasts mashing into my chest.”

I flushed and looked away. “Yes, probably that.”

“God, I’m sorry Emmeline. Sorry again. My big mouth.”

Sheesh, Stace.

But that was the night I decided that, if by some miracle I would be able to grow up, I would have epic, conversation-starting, thought-stopping, fake breasts—as a kind of thank-you to al the thoughtful men of the world.
Et voila!
Here they are!

Obviously nothing happened between us. Apart from the hard cock, it was a father-daughter sort of moment. I didn’t brush Stace’s dick again that night, but I was on a knife-edge of awareness, waiting for the next accidental contact. I clinical y evaluated every random touch and sensation and had to dismiss each one. Stace was too careful. I was, in his eyes, stil a child—or I was supposed to be, whatever his dick thought about it.

I always had a soft spot for him after the beautiful gesture that night, when he danced with me for Prom. And it wasn’t just one song.
He wore me out.
I ended the night in the hospital, where they gave me oxygen. Nurses clustered over me, threading tubes up my nose, and I was stil thinking about his cock on my hip.

So it was a bit of a victory to have Stace fol ow me into my room.

I went to the closet to show Stace the options. I pul ed open the curtains and started to say something when I heard his zipper.

The zipper of his fly being pul ed down.

Trapper—don’t be mad.
I told you al about the prom so you would understand how special Stace is to my life. I know you and I didn’t talk about this, but I had to make a fast decision. When I heard that zipper I just lost it. Lost control. My whole body flushed, from my scalp to my tailbone. Like pouring a bucket of hot water down my spine. Al that wet came out of my pussy. I felt my tailbone arching up in anticipation for what I knew would happen next.

He was behind me. His hands took my hands and put them on the bar in my closet. He pul ed my ass towards him and I let him.

“Stace, what about your wife?”

“I’l tel her later. She’l understand.”

“Wil she? Or wil this al blow up around us?”

“I don’t complain about her flings. She won’t complain about mine.”

“Are you wearing anything?” I felt him position my hips just right, with fine precision, like I was one of his construction tools.

He said, “No. I’ve always been faithful. How many men have you had?”

“You’l be my eighth. But since I went into remission, it’s only been Trapper.”

“Wil Trapper care?”

“He’l understand,” I said.

Because this simply had to be, Trapper.
I hope you can understand this. Stace is special to me. He knows al about me. I would have cal ed you if there were time, but there just wasn’t.

He slid his dick into me in one push. My world shrank to nothing but his cock and my pussy, which squeezed him as he pulsed into me. His cock thrummed in and out, the veins on the surface of his dick vibrating against my sensitive skin. I let out an animal gasp, and pressed back against him.

“Emmeline!” He gasped. “You’re so beautiful.”

And then we were just fucking. No other word for it. My mind was gone, his mind was gone. We surged against each other. Whatever strength he had, he used on me, and I surprised myself by accepting it and giving strength right back. He is al muscle because of his job, and I’m in the best shape of my life. I am as strong now as I was weak at my prom, and I wanted him to feel the difference. To feel the life in me. I felt like a racehorse being mounted by a stal ion.

I had just driven myself—and everybody else—crazy by teasing them. My body was primed by al that attention.

Thanks to you, Trapper, I feel sexy al the time, now. That must mean I’m never more than a few minutes from having an orgasm, right?

Sure enough, I came within two minutes. I clawed the hangers off the rack. He lifted my ass higher, and my feet left the ground. I hung on to the bar for dear life. He was terrifyingly strong, and incredibly intent on pounding my ass. It was a kind of masculine attention I could get used to: I was being used. Not loved, like you and I do it. Stace had obviously been storing up feelings and now he was trying to fuck me in half from behind.

I felt his cock swel in size, and I knew his cum was about to blast out.

And then I heard my father in the hallway.

“Emmeline! Where are you?”

My father was coming our way! Based on the sound from the hal way, he was passing the bathroom.
He was four feet
away from my door.
When he turned the corner, we would al die from an atomic-scale explosion of Greek fire.

I spun Stace behind me with strength I didn’t know I had. His head met the hanger bar with a metal ic clang.

I pul ed the curtains closed behind my back just as my father strode into the room.

“Daddy!” I said breathlessly.

Stace was hidden by the curtains over my closet, but his cock was stil embedded in my pussy where it stuck through the opening.

“Hey honey!” Dad gave me a kiss. He doesn’t care if I walk around naked, which I do al the time. In that sense, at least, we’re comfortable with each other. “Did you know the guys are here?”

“Yes, Daddy!” I said. “I set them up with drinks and then I had to get changed.”

His brow furrowed in puzzlement. “I saw some of your dresses in the family room. Were you changing there?”

“Yes,” I said, very slowly.

“But then they showed up and you had to leave?”

Phew!
“Yes!”

He gave me a pitying look. “Have you been hiding in here al this time? A Petrachios, hiding in her room?”

“Now, Daddy—”

I could see him wel ing with indignation. It wouldn’t be an evening in the Petrachios household if there wasn’t yel ing about something. Next time, I would leave the refrigerator door open, which would start him screaming about energy costs in the kitchen, and give us more warning.

“Emmeline,” Dad cried. “This is your house. You have no reason to hide away. If any of those bozos made you feel self-conscious, I swear I’l …”

“No, Daddy,” I said.

I was a little breathless, because Stace was moving again. Fucking me through the curtain while I stood talking to my father. “But I’m not going to run around naked in front of them, am I?”

“I’m going to read them the riot act!” He said. He stormed out of the room.

“Oh, crap.” But I couldn’t say more, because Stace was finishing himself off. I felt his hands on my hips, holding me so hard that I knew I’d have bruises. He bucked into me three, four, five times. We heard my father chewing out his friends on the sofa. Petro, Bil y, and Thor must be bewildered, I thought remotely.

It only took a moment for Stace to into rhythm, but even so, my Father was back in the hal , stomping toward us before Stace final y exploded in my pussy. I felt the heat and wet in my bel y compound. I felt like I was a bal oon fil ing up with cum.

Stace closed the curtains again but was stil spurting into me when my father re-entered the room.

He looked at the expression on my face, which was probably one he’d never seen before.

“I, um, talked to them, Emmy. They’re not going to bother you any more.”

“Thanks, Daddy. I guess.”

“If you want to walk around naked, this is your house. Remember that. You’re a Petrachios. You don’t have to answer to anybody.”

“Sure.”

He seemed to take my distraction for doubt.

“Fol ow me.” He took my hand, and before I knew it, he pul ed me into the hal way. Stace’s cock exited my vagina with a little pop.

Strangest hook-up ever!
I thought.

Dad led me down the hal and stood me in front of the three men on the sofa. I was stil naked, so no change there.

Except now I was breathing hard, sweaty, flushed, and I could feel Stace’s cum leaking out of my pussy. From the direction of Bil y’s and then Petro’s gaze, I knew they could see it too.

“Where’s Stace!” Dad bel owed. “I want him to hear this too.”

“Right here.” He walked in, zipping up. “Just in the bathroom.”

“Guys, Emmy is going to be moving out in a few years. I’m going to lose her to the world. If you come to this house, I want you to do everything she says. If I hear that you made her uncomfortable or self-conscious, just because she’s starting to turn into a woman, I wil tear your cocks off and shove them down your throats. You’ve seen what I do to people. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

The two new guys, and Stace, said, “Yes.”

Petro, being Dad’s oldest friend, made a respectable attempt at being sane. “Sammy, bro. Emmeline is not starting to be a woman. She’s
already
a woman. Do you real y want her walking around naked?”

What a meddling asshole!

“Daddy,” I said, “what Petro just said made me feel self-conscious about my body.”

Petro shot me a bitter, though slightly admiring look.

“You son of a bitch. Did you hear my little girl?”

Dad lifted Petro off the sofa by his col ar, one-handed. He is built like a tank and he’s used to throwing people around.

Even the Greek Mafia didn’t give him trouble. Petro held on to Dad’s hand, and stoical y let himself be carried out of the room.

“Emmeline, you take Petro’s place.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Dad and Petro went into the backyard to discuss my nudity at some length. We heard them shouting back and forth.

Petro is no pansy, he could give as wel as he got. Sad to say, in terms of conflict resolution, this was a typical Saturday night at my house.

The dynamic on the sofa was just incredibly awkward. Thor and Bil y stared at me up close. Stace snuggled in on the other side, and stroked my leg. For a while al we heard was some muffled shouting, the impact of a few punches that were thrown in the back yard, and the three men breathing right on me. Their breath was warm on al my exposed skin.

I felt like al of this was happening because of me. Wel , actual y it was. And it turned me on. So I leaned back and let the men eyebal me.

Bil y, suddenly courageous, put his hand on my bel y and patted it. “It wil al be okay, Emmeline.”

“Thanks, Bil y, that’s sweet.”

His hand stayed on my bel y with firm pressure, as if I was pregnant and he was waiting for the baby to kick.

“That feels good,” I told him, just to keep the awkwardness meter from going too high.

Nervous, Thor reached across Bil y and patted my other thigh. That was too funny. I moved my thigh towards him so he wouldn’t have to reach so far, and pretended that they were actual y comforting me.

“Thanks, guys. It’s not easy having a father that—”

I gasped as Thor slid his fingers into my snatch. I had
not
seen that coming. The sudden sensation between my legs, from Thor’s needy, questing fingers, made me wet al over again.

“Thor…” Bil y said, staring in disbelief. Stace merely shook his head.

“She wants to feel good,” Thor said. Then his face changed. “Emmeline, you are very wet down there.”

“Um, thanks?” He was a simple guy, but he got a lot of play because of his looks and his berserker chic. He ought to know about women and wetness.

He pul ed his hand back, cupping a pile of cum—Stace’s cum, which he had scooped from my snatch.

Thor’s brow furrowed. “What did I do?”

“It’s cum, Thor!” Bil y rocked with quiet laughter. “Emmeline is ful of cum.”

I was mortified. The white fluid drooled around his fingers, hanging between them in strands, diluted with my own moisture.

“But how did Emmeline suddenly get fil ed up with cum?” Thor asked. “Did I do it?”

His plaintive tone just made Bil y laugh harder. “I guess Emmeline and Stace got busy,
amiright?
”

Thor seemed to realize he didn’t want cum on his fingers. “I’m fixing to wipe it off.”

“Not on the sofa!” I cried. It would be completely obvious on the fabric, and Dad would see, and then… death. Thor reached toward me, and I added, “And not on me either!”