Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Romantic, .
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Summary: College-age daughter of Marc, a divorced man, comes home for Christmas, bringing Michelle, her roommate. For two weeks, Marc and Michelle have an affair, their feelings growing despite knowing the affair will end when Michelle returns home New Year's Eve. Before Leaving, Michelle and Marc's daughter arrange a blind date for him, one that quickly draws Marc into a deep, romantic relationship. Things happen during the course of that relationship to make it even more interesting.
During her junior year in college my youngest, Sandy, asked if her roommate, Michelle, could spend the first part of winter break with us. Everyone had to be out of the dorms, and Michelle's parents had decided to make their Christmas present to each other a two-week vacation in Europe. Her dad had gotten some kind of a special bonus from work and that's how they decided to spend it, figuring they might never again get this chance, and wanting to make it a second honeymoon. They had both talked to her about it before making the arrangements.
Michelle's parents would be leaving two days after she got home from school and wouldn't be back until January 2nd. Michelle wasn't upset about their trip; she knew they'd been fighting a lot lately, and hoped it would help keep them from divorcing. She just didn't want to spend two weeks alone, especially Christmas and New Year.
Sandy called me when she found out and asked if I minded a houseguest for two weeks. Having had four kids underfoot for all but the last few years when they were finally grown and on their own, I told her I didn't mind at all, asking only that she tactfully let Michelle know about the 'no drugs' rule in the house. Sandy laughed and told me it wouldn't be a problem, she knew Michelle didn't do drugs. I figured they were both twenty-one now and should be able to take care of themselves.
Pulling into the driveway after work late Friday afternoon, a week before Christmas, I could tell the girls had arrived safely. Aside from the obvious clue of Sandy's car parked in the driveway, the entire house was reverberating from the bass of the music playing inside. I could hear it even with the car windows closed. The steady thump ... thump ... thump-thump assailed my eardrums as I opened the car door. At least they'd closed the windows and doors of the house so only the immediate neighbors were being assaulted with the noise. They'd heard it all before, though, every time one of our kids had a party at the house, and had been cool about it as long as the jet engines were turned down by the time it got dark and the neighborhood was quiet by bedtime for their assorted kids. In fact, several of their own kids have since gone through or are currently going through this stage as well, and most of their kids had attended one or more of the parties at our house at one time or another.
The first thing I did when I walked in the house (you guessed it) was to pull a dad, and turn the music down so it could only be heard in the room it was playing in. I figured Sandy would immediately realize I was home, and come find me. When she didn't show up or call out within a few seconds, I went looking around for her. Looking down the hall I could see all the bedroom and bathroom doors open so I figured she was either in the kitchen, or more likely, out back by the pool since it was easily over eighty degrees today.
Almost every year we have several days of eighty-degree weather during December due to the Santa Ana winds that hit Southern California. These winds blow from the east, off the deserts of Utah, Nevada, and Arizona when the air pressure there is higher than in Southern California. The greater the difference in air pressure, the harder the warm, dry wind blows from the east, sometimes exceeding sixty M.P.H. in the mountain passes. Normally, the winds blow in off the ocean, providing the area with cool, moist air.
Heading for the kitchen, I heard the sliding glass door to the back yard open, and the slap of bare feet running across the tile kitchen floor. "Daddy," Sandy cried out happily seeing me when I turned into the kitchen. I braced myself as she ran across the kitchen and launched herself at me, managing a quick peck on the cheek before her well-greased body slid out of my arms and she again stood on the floor, hugging me.
After kissing her forehead, I teased her. "What, with the generous allowance I give you, you couldn't afford the rest of the swimsuit?"
She stepped back grinning, and did a slow pirouette, showing off what little there was of the dental-floss thong swimsuit she was allegedly wearing. "You like?" she asked, teasing.
"Last time I saw that much of your butt, I was changing your diaper," I teased back.
"Of course, if it was someone besides my daughter wearing it I'd enjoy the view very much," I admitted. She stuck her tongue out at me and was in the middle of blowing a raspberry at me when her roommate walked in the kitchen wearing an even smaller (if that's possible) suit and trying unsuccessfully to re-tie the top she'd obviously had undone while they sunbathed. Her roommate was about 5'9", slender, muscular, with a pixie face and a short, sun-bleached blond, layered pageboy haircut.
"Michelle, this is my dad, Marc. Dad, my roommate, Michelle," Sandy introduced us.
Out of habit, I started to extend my hand to shake hers, but realized she still had the ties to her top in her hands, so I gracefully re-directed my hand to the fridge to grab a beer as I said, "Very nice to meet you, Michelle."
"Oooooh, good idea," Sandy exclaimed, grabbing two beers herself and trying to hand one to Michelle. I'd let the kids drink an occasional beer once they were seventeen, provided they didn't get drunk, and that they stayed home afterwards for the rest of the evening. That didn't really matter now, as Sandy was twenty-one.
"I still have lotion all over my hands and can't get the dumb strings tied," Michelle answered, mildly exasperated, to Sandy's questioning look.
Sandy laughed and teased, "Just leave it off. It's not like dad hasn't seen boobs before."
"I'll tie it for you," I quickly volunteered, to the amusement of both girls who were now laughing at me as I blushed thoroughly.
"Oh, are you afraid of a couple of boobs?" Sandy teased.
"You sure? I don't mind leaving it off," Michelle asked. I wasn't sure if she was kidding or not, so I quickly stepped around behind her, took the strings, and tied her top. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you look at it--pun intended), as Michelle turned, when her side was to me, her top had been pulled away from her chest enough that I'd seen everything I was now trying to help cover.
Her breasts were exquisite, albeit small. They were small mounds on her chest, almost as tan as the skin on her arms with just a hint of a tan line shaped like a narrow, inverted "V" that barely covered her small, dime-sized, dark brown nipples, down to the edge of the bottom slope of her breast. I was glad she'd continued turning or I might have stopped, frozen, staring. I'd never seen breasts quite like hers, tiny, yet so tantalizing. I was immediately drawn to them, and found myself hoping to see more.
My thoughts were quickly ripped away from Michelle's breasts when she finished turning and I looked down at the ties. Her naked butt was directly below my hands, and I was looking directly down the cleft between the gorgeous, small, tan, and muscular cheeks. My hands tied the strings as my eyes took in every detail I could of her anatomy. The tiny floss of her thong disappeared shortly after branching off from the waistband of her suit between those gorgeous buns. Her long legs were sleek, yet muscular, with no sign of hair anywhere on them. "You run?" I asked, and realized as soon as the words were out of my mouth that my foot was now planted firmly between my teeth.
"No, I swim. Why?" she answered.
"I just noticed how muscular your arms and legs were," I admitted, having just realized that her arms were in the same shape as her legs, and her shoulders were much broader than most women were. I hoped to dodge the obvious fact that I'd been checking her out.
Sandy started cracking up, and when we both looked at her to see why, she pointed at my tented crotch. "I think he's been checking you out," Sandy gasped between giggles, "and I think he likes what he sees," she sputtered, before doubling over in laughter.
Michelle and I stood in uncomfortable silence for a couple of seconds before I started to apologize, but was immediately cut off by Michelle. She had turned to face me as she put a finger on my lips to stop me. Her other hand was placed flat against my chest as she tilted her head back and looked up at me. "Mr. Mann, I'm flattered that a mature and handsome man such as you would think I'm that attractive," and she stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek before settling back, flat-footed, still holding my gaze with hers.
"Should I leave you two alone?" Sandy wheezed.
Since I was already busted, I decided that the best defense was a good offense. "Michelle, you are an exquisitely beautiful young woman, and I'm sure guys check you out all the time. If you really don't mind, I'd be glad to check you out frequently while you're staying with us. If you were fifteen years older, I'd be chasing you right now," then kissed her on the top of her head. Looking at Sandy, who had quit laughing and was standing there with her mouth hanging open, I said, "And, no, Sandy, you don't need to leave. I have no problem watching an attractive woman with you in the room."
Michelle's hand on my chest moved slightly, drawing my attention back to her. "You wouldn't have to chase me," she said in a quiet, sultry voice, her gaze again holding mine, almost daring me. I needed to escape this situation quickly, so I excused myself, saying I needed to get dinner started. I turned and opened the fridge again looking for the steaks I had in there.
Sandra leaned against my side and hugged me. "Meanie," she accused dejectedly. "You're not going to take me out to dinner like you always do when I come home from school?"
"Good idea! Where do you want to go?" I asked, still trying to escape the mess in which I'd managed to mire myself. The restaurant she suggested was a rather ritzy place I'd taken her to for her eighteenth birthday. It sat atop one of the taller buildings downtown, with a panoramic view of the San Diego skyline and the ocean beyond. At this point, I probably would have agreed to fly them to San Francisco for dinner just to escape.
I called and made reservations for three at 6:30, then as an afterthought asked the girls if they wanted to bring a date. Both said no, so I left the reservation for three. When I hung up, they ran for the back of the house. As she ran, Sandy yelled something about only having an hour to get ready. I couldn't see the problem with that. I let them have both showers since I only needed about twenty minutes to get ready.
About fifteen minutes later, I heard the nearest shower shut off. I could still hear water running, and knew Sandy was still in the shower in my room. A couple of minutes later, that shower stopped. About then, I heard the first bathroom door open, followed by the quiet slap of bare feet on the tile floor before a bedroom door closed. That was shortly followed by the other bathroom door opening and another bedroom door closing.
I decided the coast was clear, so I headed for my room to take a quick shower myself. As I passed the closed guest room door, my mind wandered back to the view I'd gotten of Michelle's breasts, and then the rest of her young, lithe body. As I showered, I replayed the scene over and over, except this time, instead of tying her top, I ran my hands under it and played with her breasts, and then one thing led to another and before I knew it I was coming, my hand wrapped firmly around my cock.
As I dried off, I couldn't help but remember the last woman who'd gotten me so worked up, my ex, the first time I saw her. Once I was dried off, I shaved quickly and splashed on my aftershave (one Sandy had picked for me a few years ago for a Christmas present). I rarely shaved a second time on the same day, exceptions being only the rare occasions when I had a date. I hated shaving.
I quickly dug out one of my nicer suits and dressed, then watched the evening news in the front room while waiting for the girls. A few minutes later, one of the bedroom doors opened, but whoever came out knocked, and then quickly disappeared behind the other bedroom door. I stood up and turned off the TV when I heard the bedroom door open and voices coming down the hall. With five minutes to spare, both girls paraded into the front room.
As I turned from the TV, I was awestruck and stood there staring at Michelle. She was wearing a short, black cocktail dress that showed a lot of her tan, muscular legs and left no doubt as to the gorgeous figure of the woman beneath the dress. In addition, she was wearing a long, dangling pair of Sandy's earrings that drew attention to her exquisite neck.
Sandy misread my awe as me being upset that Michelle was wearing the earrings--a pair of diamond earrings I'd given her mother for our tenth anniversary. She ran across the room and hugged me, apologizing for letting Michelle wear them. As I started to explain that, I wasn't upset, Sandy noticed the other reaction I'd had to Michelle's appearance and she started laughing again.
Looking back to Michelle, we could see that she was visibly upset about the incident. She blushed almost as hard as I did when Sandy, laughing at me the entire time, explained my reaction. Deciding again that going on the offensive was the best way to defend myself, I offered my arm to Michelle and escorted her to the car with only an occasional snicker from Sandy who was relegated to walking behind us.
I held the door of the car open for Michelle, being rewarded with another nice look at her legs as she slid into the car. Looking back up to her face, I realized that she'd seen me looking. As I blushed, she smiled coyly. Sandy squeezed herself into the front seat, too, pushing Michelle over as she did. When I climbed into the car, I caught Michelle looking at my crotch. When she realized she was busted, it was her turn to blush.
At the restaurant, the valet opened Sandy's door as I opened my own and climbed out. I was surprised when Michelle slid past the steering wheel to get out on my side, too. I proffered my hand, and she caught my gaze as she turned and slid her legs out the door. The motion caught my eye and I looked at her legs. Her dress slid well up her thighs, and she had her legs parted more than when she slid into the car.
Realizing she was putting on a show for me, I looked back to her face. She was grinning, knowing I'd watched every second of her show. Having helped women out of the car many times before, I knew that she pulled harder than necessary when she got out of the car. She pulled me towards her just enough that she lightly bumped into me as she stood, her breasts brushing my arm hard enough to make me aware she didn't have a bra on tonight--and that her nipples were as hard as the front of my pants.
She wrapped herself around my arm and 'let' me escort her into the hotel and up to the restaurant. Sandy attached herself to my other arm, and had a rather smug grin on her face when I looked to see if she was upset.
Dinner was excellent, and the three of us shared a bottle of wine. It was nice that they were twenty-one now. Last time I brought Sandy she wasn't old enough to drink, and I didn't get anything either so she wouldn't feel left out on her special night. The girls finished off the first bottle just before our dinner was served and I ordered another, warning them they should slow down a little. We ate and talked, Sandy catching me up on her third year at college. Michelle gave me a brief synopsis of her life. When she told me earlier that she swam, it had been something of an understatement. She was on the school's swim team and was their top female swimmer. Now I realized why Sandy was sure she didn't use drugs.
After dinner, I asked if the girls were ready to leave. Sandy laughed at me and told me, "not a chance." She'd chosen this restaurant because they had a live band and a dance floor. She practically dragged me out to the floor and started dancing. I hadn't been on a dance floor for a couple of years, so I was a little rusty.
Fortunately, it didn't take me long to get my dance legs back. Another thing I had to thank my ex for was that she loved to dance, and made me take dance lessons with her. That way, I wouldn't have any excuse not to take her dancing. With a year of lessons, I could manage anything from the thirties to the eighties, from a waltz to the chicken dance. Within a couple of years, we even got into competition dancing.
When Sandy led me back to the table after a couple of dances, I was hoping we could now leave; no such luck. She practically dragged Michelle out of her chair and pushed her at me. "Your turn," she nonchalantly told Michelle, but the smile on her face gave away her scheming. Michelle and I danced a couple more numbers until the band started a slow number. I started to head back to the table, but Michelle held onto my hand and stayed put, her eyes silently begging me not to leave.
I stayed--we danced. We danced slowly, her body pressed against mine--her hard nipples pressed into my chest, my erection pressed against her. Our eyes were locked the entire time. At the end of the dance, she pulled my face down and kissed me briefly.
She kept me out there for a couple more dances before we went back to the table, our fingers unconsciously intertwined. Sandy was nowhere to be found and I was afraid she'd seen Michelle kiss me and had left, upset. Michelle pointed her out, once again on the dance floor, with a guy who looked to be about her age. Michelle laughed quietly and commented, "Give her five minutes and she'll find a guy. She's so lucky."
"I can't imagine it would take you even five minutes," I volunteered, complimenting her. She smiled wanly.
"Most guys that ask me out either want the notoriety of being seen with me or just want ... well, they aren't looking for a long term relationship," she finished, blushing. Michelle dragged me back out for a few more dances, including a couple more slow numbers.
Both slow dances were similar to the first, but the last one she was actively grinding her pelvis against my erection as she watched my face. About 10:00, the girls decided it had been a long day. Sandra had spent most of the evening dancing with the guy she met there. She finally introduced us, His name was Rex, and he went to school not far from where the girls did. His parents also lived in San Diego. He too was home for Christmas break.
Rex seemed like a nice guy, although wasn't what I would have expected Sandy to pick out. He wasn't exceptionally handsome, although he was probably better than average looking. He also wasn't a jock, and his clothes, which were cut such that they looked classy, showed that he wasn't exceptionally muscular.
On the way to the car, Michelle clung to me, her arms wrapped possessively around mine. Sandy guarded my other side, her arm wrapped around my waist. Getting back into the car, Michelle was much more demure since the valet was holding the door for her and Sandy was only a couple of feet away, waiting her turn. That let me know for sure that she'd done what she did before on purpose.
Once I started driving, both girls crashed. Sandy was leaning against the door, Michelle against my shoulder. About halfway home, Michelle's hand slid onto my thigh, her palm on the upper surface, her fingers trailing down to the inside of my thigh.
From the glances I managed to steal at her face, it looked like she was asleep, so I didn't read anything into it. A few minutes later, though, she started running her index finger around in small circles, the rest of her hand remaining motionless. When the tires crossed the curb to our driveway with a slight bump-bump, her hand slid back to her own leg. I carried my coat in front of me when I got out to help hide the erection she'd inspired. The last thing I wanted was to give Sandy more ammunition.
Climbing out of the car, Michelle put on another show for me, and since Sandy was already plodding sleepily towards the front door, she let her skirt ride up her delectable thighs until I could see the crotch of the red thong she was wearing. She watched me the whole time she was putting on the show, making sure I didn't miss it.
As she stood, she again pressed her body against mine and kissed me, this time running her tongue lightly across my lips as she pulled away. Sandy unlocked the door and met us inside, where Michelle gave me another quick kiss in front of Sandy. "Thank you for tonight--for everything," she said huskily. "It was perfect."
Giving Sandy a hug, she bid us goodnight and headed for her room. Since Sandy had waited until after Michelle left, I was expecting some grief from her about my behavior with Michelle tonight. I was surprised when she, instead, gave me a bear hug lasting for several seconds.
When she finished, she looked up at me, smiling, but with tears in her eyes. "You don't know how much that meant to her tonight," she said. "She needed a night with someone who appreciated her as a beautiful woman but who wasn't trying to push his way into her pants all night. Thank you," she said quietly with one last squeeze, turning to make her way to her room, leaving me standing alone and still wondering what was going on in their heads.
I spent the next half hour puttering around and cleaning up the already clean kitchen while I mentally reviewed the day and tried to make sense of it. Unable to do so, I finally accepted (again) the fact that I would never understand women or why they do the things they do, and headed for bed. Walking down the darkened hall towards my room, I stopped when I heard a groan come from inside Michelle's room.
After a few seconds of listening, I realized the noises were muffled sounds of passion. Embarrassed to have intruded on her privacy I continued towards my room, wondering if she was alone or if she and my daughter were more than just roommates. That question was quickly answered when I heard a loud whisper, "Oh, yeah, fuck me Marc." I almost turned to see if she was talking to me before I realized that her door was closed and she couldn't have known I was outside her room. I was stunned. I couldn't imagine that she would be fantasizing about having sex with me. After that, I had to relieve my own sexual tension, but I went into my bathroom and closed the door ... just in case.
Mental images of her breasts, her nearly naked body, and her body writhing gracefully on the dance floor were mingled with memories of the scent of her hair, the feel of her hard nipples pressed into my chest, the pressure of her crotch grinding against my erection on the dance floor, her hand tracing circles on the inside of my thigh as I drove, her kiss, and the feel of her tongue on my lips, made for a rather quick 'sex' session.
Aside from a few rare exceptions, for the last nine years, my hand had been my only sex partner. We'd gotten to know each other well, so I was very surprised at how hard and how much I came while thinking about the gorgeous and sexy woman not fifteen feet from where I was, who was also pleasuring herself, thinking about me. I fell asleep quickly after that, dreaming pleasantly all night about her small breasts and disarming smile.
My internal alarm woke me shortly after 6 a.m., my usual wake-up time. I lay in bed thinking again, about the night before and how happy the girls had been. I knew I was reading too much into their gratitude, but still couldn't get a grip on how blatantly Michelle had flirted with and exposed herself to me. I even began to get a sneaky suspicion that the 'accidental' peek I got of her breasts might not have been so accidental. I thought about how infatuated I was quickly becoming by this twenty-one year old--my youngest daughter's friend, and roommate. I also thought about my life for the last nine years, all starting when I arrived home that fateful Friday.
My thanks to bigbillh for his critical eye and help editing this story.