Ian woke up with a start - the slam of the front door downstairs had broken through the fog of alcohol in his head. He listened for a second to the sound of cupboards being opened, and running water. He relaxed as he remembered that his daughter Rickie and her friend Beth were staying the night, so that explained the rummaging downstairs.
The fear that his wife Carole had returned disappeared almost as quickly as it had frozen his blood and he fell back on the pillow. His ears tried to focus on what was happening - he could hear something but couldn't quite make it out. It wasn't a voice, it was something different, more childlike, quiet, persistent, and somehow alarming.
He got up and opened his door a fraction and made out a gentle sobbing and sniffling. Adrenalin rushed into his veins - Rickie! What was up? Who had hurt her? He threw open the door and then remembered his nakedness and took a robe from behind the door and went downstairs to investigate and commiserate. "Rickie? Rickie, where are you?"
The snuffling stopped as he got to the living room as he turned on the lights. "Sorry, Mr. Thomas, it's only me, Beth. I'm sorry, I hope I didn't disturb you."
Sitting curled up in one of the arm chairs was Beth, with her legs tucked under her, looking a mess with black mascara running down her cheeks, the bright purple dress with its pattern of carefully placed cuts looking disheveled and revealing even more of her pale white flesh than had been on display when she'd gone out.
"Hey, that's okay, don't worry, I was awake anyway. Where's Rickie? Are you okay?"
"Rickie's still at the party, she's fine and having fun. I just, er, I just needed to get away so I came back on my own, that's alright isn't it?"
"Yeah of course, Beth, make yourself at home. But hang on, I'll get you some tissues and you can tell me what has upset you so. Do you want a drink of something as well?"
Ian returned with a box of tissues and sat himself on the floor, next to Beth, handing a few to her, and trying not to stare at her left breast that was almost completely out of what looked more like a tear than one of the teasingly designed peepholes in her dress.
"Hey, try and clean yourself up a bit, you look like you've been crying for England. Do you want to tell me what has happened?"
"Oh god, I must look a mess, I know I feel a mess," Beth said as she dabbed at her eyes. "Sorry, it's nothing exciting, just the normal crap. Someone tried it on and was too out of his head to understand that I just was not interested. Oh, no, don't worry, he didn't rape me or anything, but let's just say I had to struggle a bit to escape his amorous clutches. Still his crutch won't be feeling so good now. I can still feel the imprint of his pelvis on my kneecap!"
Beth somehow chortled and sniffled at the same time. "I'm just feeling a bit sorry for myself, letting myself get into such a situation, it was a bit stupid of me, and then I started about thinking about my man and missing him. But don't worry, I'll be alright in a bit. Perhaps I will have that drink now - have you got any spirits? Scotch? Cognac? I just want something strong as a nightcap to send me to sleep and chase my thoughts away."
Ian came back with his bottle of scotch and two glasses - he started pouring and hesitated as he remembered the glass by his laptop that he had cum into but saw it on the other side of the room and made a mental note to tidy it up.
They chatted as they cradled and sipped their glasses - Beth had joined the paper a few weeks after Rickie, both fresh out of journalism college, both struggling to find enough local news to keep their editor happy. He learnt that Rickie was better than Beth at the door stepping of the poor people whose relatives had fallen under their news spotlight, whether because of tragedy, crime or some other more fortunate circumstance.
Beth admitted that she was happier with the softer stuff, doing features on people happy to talk, where they were happy to share information, rather than have juicy tidbits tricked out of them that would make a good news headline.
"So you're more of a soft features girl than my hard-hearted daughter then?" Ian asked.
"Yeah I guess so," Beth smiled almost for the first time since she had come back. "Not that Rickie is hard-hearted or anything, I don't mean anything nasty against her, she's lovely, it's just that she's better at dealing with people than I am. She's persistent. She'll keep trying whereas I don't want to pry, unless someone wants to open up."
"She's sounds like her mother - give a dog a bone and all that. She'll just keep chewing and chewing until she gets through to the marrow."
"Oh yeah, that's Rickie, she's a real news hound. Oh, sorry Mr. Thomas you know what I mean don't you, she's not a dog or anything, she's just er ..."
"Hey, don't worry, I started this dog thing off, literally after all, as I married her mother! No, don't worry, I know Rickie - a cuddly soft Labrador she isn't. Ha, even as a baby she could pull this bulldog face - we were never quite sure if she was thinking or filling her nappy!" They both laughed, and Beth leaned forward with her glass indicating she wanted a small top up.
Ian stared again at her swaying tight breasts as he shakily poured more scotch into her glass.
She leaned back, and threw the half inch of finest malt down her throat. "Thanks for that," she said as she got up. "I'd better go to bed and get some much-needed beauty sleep."
"Ha, don't worry, you look beautiful enough already." Ian froze as he heard himself speak. "You know what you youngsters are like - five minutes kip in the back of a car and you still manage to look perfect," he quickly added, trying desperately to dig himself out of a hole of his own making, perhaps even of his own imagination.
"Ah, you're so sweet Mr. Thomas. Thanks for being here and listening to me prattling on," Beth smiled.
"Call me Ian, please."
"Yeah, of course, Ian," as she gave him a hug and kissed him on the cheek. "You're such a special family. Thanks again, and good night, sleep well."
Ian found himself holding onto Beth, his hands feeling flesh through the cuts in her dress, her perfume rising gently, her warmth and youth flooding through his robe. He let go, feeling foolish and embarrassed as his blood poured from his hot cheeks down to his stirring cock.
"Yeah good night Beth, sweet dreams." He watched her swaying gently, he almost imagined she was doing it for his delight, as she left the room and went up the stairs. He sat down again, poured a small scotch, and sipped it gently before taking it with him up to his bedroom.
Sleep quickly drowned the strange thoughts of Beth and her breasts and long lithe legs, until he stirred to a tapping on his door and a quiet but anxious voice. "Mr. Thomas, Mr. Thomas. Can I come in please?"
He stretched and switched on the bedside light and looked at the bedside clock - 3.45am, he'd been asleep for more than an hour. "Yes, come in."
"Mr. Thomas, sorry, Ian, sorry to wake you but can I sit here with you for a bit. Please, I know it's a bit silly but I just need some company," Beth's voice was shaky and breaking up.
"Of course, come here, whatever's up, you sound petrified," Ian tried to sound reassuring, while being struck by how the bright light illuminated Beth, standing there in a thin white short nightie, barely covering the top of her long slender legs.
He moved his eyes up quickly, nervously noting the shadowy swell of her breasts, the jutting of her taut nipples, the string-like shoulder straps, the slightly quivering chin, trembling lips, quick, get to her eyes, he told himself. "Sit here," he patted the side of the bed and moved across to make room for her. "Do you want a cup of tea or something else to drink," he found himself saying in auto pilot caring mode and then squirmed as he realised that then he would have somehow get out of bed in his naked state. He almost sighed in relief when she shook her head no.
"I'm sorry Mr. Thom... Ian, I just had a really bad dream and I can't get it out of my mind to get back to sleep. Can I just lay here for a bit with you?"
"Yes of course Beth if that's what you need. Whatever has scared you so much?", Ian moved a pillow and put it on top of the quilt and gestured to her to move there. She lay there facing him as he sat up trying to edge away enough to give her room to get comfortable.
"Oh it was horrible, it felt so real. I was back at the party and Graham, he was the one trying to cop off with me tonight, was refusing to leave me alone. He kept pinning me in, following me around, touching me, trying to kiss me. I felt like he was suffocating me and I could not get away. Then I thought I would get away from him and leave the party, so I told him to get me another drink while I went upstairs to the toilet. As he went off, I grabbed my bag, kissed Rickie goodbye and dashed out the front door.
"I ran down the street but I really didn't know where I was going, it was dark and I couldn't see anyone to ask the way to go. There were no cars either, even though I was desperately looking for a taxi or a bus or anything. I turned down another road, which just looked like all the others, just rows and rows of dull looking terrace windows, all with their lights off as though everyone had all gone to bed.
"I was beginning to get hot and worried when I heard a car behind me which I waved towards in the hope it was a cab. It slowed down and the driver's window wound down but it was Graham, who shouted at me to get in.
"I told him to go away, that I was going home, and ran down an alleyway between some of the houses. It was dark and I really couldn't see where it led, it just seemed to be going away from the houses to somewhere darker and more shadowy, maybe a park or a school or something. Then I heard someone running behind me and it frightened me and my legs got heavier, like lead, and then I remembered I had my high heels on and how difficult it was to run in them. Suddenly Graham was there, in my face, spitting with venom, as he said where are you going you stupid bitch, how dare you walk out on me like that.
"Then he was pawing at me, grabbing at my body, tearing my dress, and then I was naked, even my knickers had gone, and he was holding me, kissing me, biting at my neck and my nipples, really roughly. I tried to say no, to hold him off, but he was too strong, too insistent, yet despite it all, despite how cold I felt, how much hatred I felt for him, I found myself getting feelings for him. He touched my pussy and said how wet it was and how I really must have wanted him, how big a prick teaser I was and how he would make me pay for playing hard to get.
"He called me a slut and took his belt off his trousers and flicked it across my breasts, aiming and hitting my nipples, and then he turned me round and started whipping my back and then my bottom. It felt so good but so wrong at the same time; I was arching my back to meet his strokes, moving my cheeks to share the blows around fairly.
"And then, then he scooped me up in his arms and thrust his cock, which seemed to be massive and thrust it into me. It just seemed to get bigger and bigger inside me, it just kept filling me up and going further and deeper than I thought was ever possible. It hurt as it stretched me to bursting point but it also felt fantastic. I was just going wild, screaming with ecstasy and pain, and Graham just kept going and going for what seemed like hours.
"My back felt like it had lost layers of skin rubbing against the wall as Graham just held my thighs and bottom in his arms and bounced me up and down his cock. There was a large part of me that didn't want him within a mile of me, that felt disgusted that he was there, but my insides just wanted him to keep thrusting as hard as he could. And then as I had yet another of what seemed like hundreds of orgasms, I looked over his shoulder and there, as a bit of moonlight appeared to light up the alleyway, was J ... er my lover, who had tears rolling down his cheeks.
"His tears seemed to be glowing, and his face was etched in pain and hatred. He stared at me for a minute, then mouthed slowly and deliberately 'the end. Goodbye forever Beth.' As he turned away the light disappeared and it was all darkness again, and I felt Graham thrust forward one more horrible time with much strength than before and I felt this burning acid like cum explode from his cock and into my body, flying outwards and upwards, melting everything in its way, taking my soul and then my heart with it. That's when I awoke - oh it was horrible, so real, so painful so ...," as her voice broke again with the emotion, Beth rolled over and faced away from Ian, burying her head into the pillow.
Ian was speechless. He had been fighting a losing struggle to control his cock from springing into full life as she told her story, but now she was sobbing gently he felt dirty and guilty. He looked over and could not avoid noticing that Beth had exposed her bottom when she'd turned over.
He tried to move his eyes away as he tried his best to comfort her verbally. "Don't worry, it's just a stupid dream. It was probably my fault for giving you the nightcap. You're okay, none of it happened. Just relax, fall asleep. It will be okay in the morning. You did all the right things, you left the party, you said no to Graham. Nothing bad happened."
Beth rolled over and faced him again, tears still filling her eyes, before wiping them on the quilt cover and slowly and hesitantly saying. "Yes okay, I can see that, but why did it feel so good to be fucked by him. Why did it feel so great, why did I enjoy it so much, why didn't I want it to stop, why didn't I make it stop? Why did I want to be treated like a total trollop by some complete and utter gobshite, why does it still ache down here so much?" Her hand thrust down between her legs and Ian's eyes followed it to see strands of black curly hair between her clenched fingers.
Ian felt the pain and cracked, reaching over to hold her head in his hands. "Forget it Beth. It's just the scotch fucking your head up. We all get lost in a fantasy at some time or ever, wanting something different, better, scarier. There's nothing wrong with that but just forget it all, get back into the real world and the real you. It was just a bad but very vivid dream, that's all. In the morning it will all have gone away and everything will be normal again." He stroked her face, wiping the tears away gently with his fingers. "Just close your eyes and sleep, relax, shut it all out and flush it all away."
"Oh please, hold me, I still feel so cold and frightened. I just want to be cuddled, to feel safe. I want all those thoughts to go away, please help me, hold me Ian."
The despair and desperation in her voice floored Ian. What could he do, he couldn't say no. He nodded at her and pulled her into his arms, her head on his chest. Oh god, what was she doing now? Her legs were scratching at the quilt, pulling at it with her feet. She was getting under the cover. He struggled to control his desires as she pulled her head away from him and slipped her whole body under the quilt, before returning her head back to his chest with her body leaning in against the side of naked body.
"Oh thank you, that feels so good, so much better," she almost whispered into his chest, her breath teasing his left nipple as her cheek pressed firmly against his other nipple.
"That's alright, you just get comfortable," Ian said, stroking her back with his right hand, while trying desperately to edge the bottom half of his body away from her soft legs. Behave, behave, he told his cock as it twitched frustrated against the quilt cover, almost with a life of its own, sensing the young succulent folds of flesh only inches away from it.
"Thank you so much, you really are a lovely man Ian, I don't know where I would be without you," Beth stretched, lifted her head and kissed him gently on the side of his face. "I feel so much better now," as she snuggled back down, head resting on his chest and her arm stretched across his stomach.
Ian lay there motionless, getting warmer and more nervous by the second. God, she felt beautiful, smelt beautiful, looked beautiful. He reached his arm across and switched off the light, half hoping that his thoughts would disappear if he could no longer see her. He felt her breathing go deeper and deeper, her head feeling heavier against his chest. Oh no, she had fallen asleep. He tried twitching but there was
change in her position. She seemed dead to the world.
He lay there, drinking in the darkness, the perfume from her neck, the trace of scotch on her breath, the hint of sex from her cunt, or was he imagining that last bit. His cock remained hard and unloved. He tried altering his breathing patterns to move her arm down from the middle of his stomach. Please, please, accidentally slide down and touch my cock, hold it, caress it, make it yours to play with.
He spent ages just trying to move gently to move her arm, her hand, those lovely thin fingers, that horrible three or so inches to where his idea of paradise could begin. Sweat began to pour out of him as he tried all in his powers to make Beth accidentally grab his cock but all his efforts failed. He gave up as Beth began to gently snore, and he too followed her into the deep abyss of sleep. And equally annoyingly, there is still more to be written!
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with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.
<a href="http://www.lushstories.com/stories/love-stories/everything-comes-together-eventually--7.aspx">Everything comes together eventually - part five</a>