Her Daddy's Best Friend

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Her Daddy's Best Friend Page 6

by Kim Wickford


  I laughed.

  "What's so funny?"

  "You," I said.

  "What are you talking about?"

  "It's hard to take you seriously when you've got a boner."

  "No I don't."

  "I gave Logan a boner," I said in a quiet, sing-song voice. "Logan's got a boner."

  "This isn't a boner. My swimsuit's wet. The material has folded in a funny way."

  I took a quick glance across the lake. Mom and Dad's backs were turned. Both of them were busy around the barbecue pit as they prepared the late afternoon lunch. With the coast clear, I reached down to cup Logan's crotch. He was sporting a substantial piece of wood. As I stroked my hand up and down his length, I could feel him pulsing beneath me, growing larger.

  "Do you know what we do to sexy neighbors with boners?"

  He gave a nonchalant shrug, but I could tell he was savoring every moment of my caress while he pretended to be unaffected.

  "Come closer," I said, "and I'll tell you."

  I could smell the sunshine on his skin as he leaned in. I could feel the heat radiating from his body. The tips of our noses brushed, and it reminded me of the first kiss we shared in my bed the night after the party.

  I placed my mouth against his ear. "Big men with big boners deserve a special treat," I whispered.

  His voice was a low rumble. "What kind of a treat?"

  "They deserve to go deep."

  "Deep into a certain someone's pussy?"

  "No … deep into the water!"

  I let go of his cock, put my hand on his hip, and gave him a sharp shove. He rolled backwards and toppled off the edge of the raft with a splash. I laughed like crazy as he thrashed and cursed. He wasn't the only one who could play games.

  Almost as quickly as he fell into the lake, he vanished from sight. The water became still.

  I peeked over the edge. "Logan?"

  There was no sign of him. He was gone. I crawled to the other side of the raft. The waters were just as calm.

  After a minute without so much as a ripple, I began to worry. Had I hurt him? Had he injured himself when he fell? Was he lying somewhere at the bottom of the lake, unconscious?

  "C'mon Logan, this isn't funny anymore. Where are you?" Panic rose from the pit of my belly. I reached down to splash the water. As I did, a shadow moved beneath me. A hand reached up and pulled me into the lake.

  I kicked and squirmed against him. Now it was his turn to laugh.

  "Not funny!" I spluttered, flicking my wet hair out of my face.

  "Fair is fair," he said.

  Each time I tried to climb up the ladder, he pulled me back down again. We were both clinging to the pontoons on the far side of the raft, invisible from the shore. He moved behind me, trapping me between his brawny arms. I could feel his cock through his swim trunks as he pressed himself against my buttocks. He was harder than ever.

  "You really made a mess of things," I chided. "Now you'll have to reapply the sun screen."

  "I don't mind giving you a second coat."

  Neither do I, I thought as I remembered the way his fingers had caressed my ass and stroked my slit. But Logan had other plans for me. His mouth moved to my shoulder.

  "I need to get my bikini top," I said as I struggled against him. "I'm half naked. My parents might see."

  "They can't see anything back here. Besides, I'm half naked too." His kisses traveled across the nape of my neck.

  "What are you doing?" I murmured as one of his hands reached under to tug at my bottoms.

  "I want you, Amber," he said with a husky growl.

  His words melted me.

  I didn't care that my parents were a stone's throw away. I didn't care that we might be seen. I wanted Logan too. My bikini was already halfway down my legs. Leaning back against his chest I helped him undress me the rest of the way. Then we struggled to free him from the clinging fabric of his own trunks. In the cool water of the lake it was a surprise to feel the sudden warmth of his rigid cock against my bare skin. He slipped himself between my thighs and let his thick shaft glide along the length of my pussy. I could feel every ridge, every pulsing vein.

  I reached under to guide him to my hungry opening, impatient to have him inside me after I'd been deprived of his body for so long. "Fuck me, Logan," I moaned. "I need you."

  Even though I held him in my grip, poised at the lips of my entrance, he continued to deny me, he continued to resist.

  "Let me hear you beg," he hissed. Droplets of water fell from the tangles of his hair and trickled down my cheek. I could no longer feel the coldness of the lake. Only the heat of his mouth against the side of my throat, the warmth of his chest against my back, and the red hot poker of his cock in the palm of my hand.

  "Please, Logan. Please," I panted. How could the sexiest man who'd ever touched me torture me so?

  His knees pushed between my legs, spreading me farther apart. The throbbing tip of him pressed a little deeper. The muscles of my cunt flexed instinctively, desperate to draw him up inside me.

  "You like that, don't you," he said. "To be teased."

  "There's something I'd like even more," I breathed, unable to keep the desperation from my voice. I tried to pull his cock upwards into my pussy.

  In a flash his hand was tight around my wrist, pulling me away, leaving me clawing at nothing but water. "Patience, Amber. Good things come to those who wait."

  He slipped an arm around my waist and let his hand trail down my belly. I began to tremble, and not just because the water was cold. My swollen clit was eager for his caress; my whole body ached for release.

  Logan's deft fingers brushed across my mound. He moved ever so slowly, as if he wanted the moment to last. Using nothing but his index and middle fingers he spread me apart.

  "Such a beautiful pussy," he said, stroking my slippery lips. "So perfect. So tight."

  I had to grip the side of the raft with all my might to stay afloat when he dipped a finger inside me. His touch left me limp and powerless. I thought for sure I'd sink beneath the surface. Never before had I been fucked with such perfection by a single digit. When he added a second finger I gasped and squirmed, knowing this would be the most pleasurable drowning ever. But Logan's protective arm was around me, keeping my head above the water. He wasn't finished with me yet.

  Logan's third finger was enough to make me swoon. He moved inside of me, stretching me apart, making me feel so aroused, so full. With each thrust he stoked a fire deep within my body. Before long, the flames of lust raged out of control. When he rolled his thumb across my clit, my legs kicked involuntarily, and I rose out of the water as if propelled by the power of my impending orgasm.

  Just as quickly his fingers vanished and I faltered. No! What was he doing? How could he stop at a moment like this? I glanced over my shoulder with a desperate, questioning look in my eyes, frantic to find out what was wrong. Logan's mischievous grin spoke volumes. He wanted me to know that he wasn't going to let me come so easily.

  I was on the verge of thrashing my arms against the surface of the water, like a spoiled brat having a tantrum, when I felt the head of his cock swirl against my cunt: slowly, methodically, unbearably—the same way his fingers had done a few moments earlier.

  "Please," I stammered. "Don't do this to me. Don't make me wait any longer. I need you inside me now."

  My whole body tensed as he pushed into my aching hole, then withdrew. Over and over again. Each time he went a little deeper, but never deep enough to give me the satisfaction I craved.

  As big and strong as he was, even Logan had his limits. Soon the teasing was too much for him to endure. Without a word of warning his possessive arm tightened around my waist. He reared back and slammed into me. My breath escaped me in a rush. He stretched me apart, filling me to the brim. Still it wasn't enough for my greedy pussy. Pushing back against the pontoons, I wriggled my ass into his crotch, determined to claim every last inch of him.

  The waves from our pistoning bodies
rocked the raft. From the violence of our fucking I imagined a tsunami was breaking on the shore. Both of us gasped and panted as we charged closer and closer to the brink.

  And then a voice cried out across the lake, "Logan, Amber! The burgers are ready. Come and get 'em while they're hot."

  Shit!

  I was no more than twenty seconds away from ecstasy. But I knew if Dad didn't get a response to his call within ten seconds, he'd dive into the water to look for us, fearful that Mr. Worthington and I had drowned.

  I never thought I'd be the one to pull away before we reached the point of no return, but somehow I did. Logan groaned in protest, and I felt the chilly lake water fill the warm void he'd once occupied.

  I poked my head over the top of the raft and waved at Dad. "Coming!" I yelled, very much aware of the irony of my words. I ducked back down to put on my bikini. Easier said than done underwater.

  "What am I gonna do? I can't wade ashore with a raging hard-on. We have to finish this, Amber."

  "We can't."

  "Yes, we can," he insisted and pulled me back into his arms.

  More than anything I wanted to give myself to him. To let him have his way with my body. To surrender to the blissful orgasm I so urgently needed.

  "Amber? Logan? Where are you guys?"

  I pushed away from Logan. "There's no time. We have to go now."

  "And what about this," he said with a downward glance. Thanks to the refractive properties of the water, his erection looked massive. Moby Dick.

  "Just tell my parents you were turned on by a mermaid."

  He scowled at me. "I'm serious."

  I gave his cock a loving squeeze and fought the urge to wrap my legs around his hips and impale myself once more. "I'll tell them you got a leg cramp and you'll join us when you can swim again."

  I reached for my top, still lying on the platform, and got Logan to help me tie the strings in the back. We exchanged a quick kiss before I paddled back to the shore. As I hurried up the beach towards the barbecue pit, I was relieved that no one could tell my pussy was dripping wet.

  Chapter 11

  I leaned back on the couch after my third s'more and burped. Mom was assembling the treats for us in front of the fireplace. In a few minutes we would all climb onto those damn cots for the night and go to bed.

  I hoped an overdose of chocolate would be enough to help quell my sexual urges. It didn't. Unless I had an orgasm soon, I knew I'd go insane. The tension had been building for weeks, and after my encounter with Logan on the lake, I was ready to explode.

  "So, um, Mr. Worthington and I were talking, and we thought it might be cool if the two of us took an overnight tenting trip to the lookout point tomorrow," I said.

  Logan paused in mid-s'more and gave me a confused look. There had been no such discussion between us. What had happened was my desperately horny brain had noticed a bunch of camping gear in the corner of the cabin. I concocted a spontaneous plan to help me get some between-the-sheets action.

  "That sounds like a great idea," Dad said. "I remember years ago, when you were just a little kid, we tried to convince you to go camping with us. You put up such a fuss. You didn't want to leave the creature comforts behind. I'm so glad you've finally given up your princess-ways."

  I gave Logan a sly wink. He finally clued-in to my naughty scheme. A huge, chocolate-marshmallow grin blossomed on his face. This time tomorrow the two of us would be deep in the wilderness, far from distraction, and he'd be deep in my pussy.

  Too bad things didn't work out as I planned.

  The following morning, at the very last moment, Mom and Dad decided they wanted to come along too. They got nostalgic for a good old fashioned camp-out, and since there was an extra tent available, they marched along with us.

  Dad took the lead on the trail, striking out with enthusiasm. Mom was close behind. I lagged at the back of the pack, mostly because I was bummed out by the sudden change in plans, but also so I could check out Logan's bum in his hiking shorts. Judging by my luck so far, this would be the closest I'd get to any sort of sexual release.

  As expected, the views from the lookout point were spectacular. Too bad the view I really wanted was still tucked inside a certain gentleman's pants.

  Dad and Logan set up the two tents. I noted, to my dismay, that they were pitched much too close together. If Logan and I attempted so much as a kiss in the middle of the night we'd be heard for sure. The only thing that separated us from Mom and Dad were two flimsy canvas walls. Our situation was no better than if we'd stayed in the cabin.

  The four of us settled down to watch the gorgeous sunset. Mom linked her arm through Dad's and snuggled up against him. I turned to look at Logan. His rugged face looked so handsome in the fading orange light. When the campfire died out we said our goodnights and crawled into our respective tents.

  Logan and I lay beside each other, tucked chastely into our separate sleeping bags. He reached out in the dark and held my hand. Both of us sighed in disappointment; this would be the closest we would get to any kind of intimacy tonight.

  As I was drifting off, I heard a sound that put all my senses on alert. My eyes snapped open. "Logan," I whispered.

  He didn't respond.

  I gave his shoulder a shake.

  He groaned in his sleep and rolled over.

  I shook him harder.

  "Stop it," he grunted.

  "Wake up," I hissed. "Something's wrong."

  He rubbed his eyes. "What is it? What are you talking about?"

  "I think there's a bear outside."

  "Impossible," he replied, and pulled his sleeping bag up around his chin. "There aren't any bears in these woods. You're imagining things."

  "No, I'm not," I insisted. "Listen … you can hear it breathing."

  He cocked his head in my direction.

  Sure enough the grunting, snuffling noise beyond the wall of our tent grew louder.

  "Holy shit," he murmured, wide awake in an instant.

  "I told you," I hissed. "It's a bear. It's gonna eat us."

  Just when the situation looked like it couldn't get any worse, something even more terrible happened. Between grunts we heard a voice say, "Oh, yes. Oh, Harry."

  "Oh, Susan."

  "Oh, Harry."

  Oh. My. God.

  Logan and I exchanged a look of horror. It wasn't an angry bear outside … it was my parents making love! Didn't they realize these tent walls were paper-thin? Didn't they know we could hear every last yucky sound?

  I pressed my hands to my ears and squeezed my eyes shut. "This camping trip just gets worse and worse," I groaned.

  I'm pretty sure Logan was grossed out too, but instead of plugging his own ears I felt him shimmy out of his sleeping bag. I opened one eye, half expecting to see him bolt from the tent and sprint into the forest to get as far away from my amorous parents as possible. Instead he pulled off his hoodie. His t-shirt followed.

  "This is perfect," he whispered.

  I sat up on my elbows. "What are you doing?"

  "Can't you see?" he said yanking down his pants. "This is a blessing in disguise. Your mom and dad are so busy with each other, they won't notice what we're doing."

  It took a moment for me to come to my senses. He was right. Why was I lying there bemoaning my fate when the perfect opportunity presented itself? I unzipped myself from my sleeping bag and sat up as Logan crawled over to me. His fingers hooked the bottom of my sweater and t-shirt, pulling them up over my head to expose my breasts. My nipples were already hard peaks as he cast my garments aside. As he bent to suck one erect nub between his lips, he reached over to pinch and pull at the other. With each flicker of his tongue, with each squeeze of his fingers, a twinge of pleasure shot straight to my pussy. Wetness poured from me.

  I tugged at my waistband and wriggled my hips, removing my underwear as fast as I could while Logan lavished attention on my breasts. In the cold air of the tent the wetness of his saliva on my skin and the nakedness of my
body made me gasp.

  "Are you okay?" he asked. My nipple still rested against his lower lip as he paused to look up at me.

  I gave him a shivering nod, unsure if I was trembling from excitement or from the cold.

  Without waiting for an invitation, Logan shuffled around and slipped naked into my sleeping bag. Turning me on my side, he spooned up behind me. With the zipper pulled up around our necks it was a tight but cozy fit. My buttocks were wedged snug against his groin, and the coarse tuft of his pubic hair tickled my anus. The heat of his body was like an inferno in the confined space.

  His lips found mine, and we kissed with a passionate urgency. He drew my tongue into his mouth, holding it captive, sucking it possessively.

  "I'm going to fuck you senseless," he growled when he finally released me. Those simple, lust-filled words were enough to make my pussy throb.

  His arms were wrapped around me, clutching at my breasts. I clamped my hands over his, holding him in place. Then I lifted my leg so he could ease himself between my thighs. He was already rock hard. The top of his shaft nudged the dripping lips of my cunt.

  "You're wet already?" he whispered in surprise.

  "I've been wet for you from the moment my parents told me you were coming on this trip."

  He moved his hips. Each time he shifted, the tip of him brushed the entrance to my streaming hole. It was a maddening sensation; I wanted him inside me so badly and I wasn't going to tolerate any teasing from him. Not tonight. Time was a luxury we didn't have.

  To my relief he didn't play any more games. One of his hands left my breast and trailed down the length of my body: over my arm, across my hip, between my legs. Those gentle fingers swirled upwards again, as soft as a whisper, along my inner thigh and into the valley of my crotch.

  My eyes fluttered shut as he explored my swollen mound and dipped a finger deep into the damp heat that consumed me.

  "So fucking tight," he breathed.

  In the confines of the sleeping bag I tried to open my legs wider to give him more room to maneuver. I shivered as he spread the lips of my pussy apart between the 'v' of his fingers. The heel of his palm rested against my clit. The pulsing tip of his shaft bucked against me like a hound straining on the leash.

 

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