My Best Friends Father Ch. 09

***Authors Note: Thank you to Alan, your help is greatly appreciated!***

The nap wasn't to last very long. Perhaps a half hour had passed when Mr P shook me awake. "Come on sleepy head, time to get up." He said much too jovially. "I thought men were supposed to be the ones to cum and instantly fall asleep." He chuckled.

I groaned and tried to snuggle deeper into the pillow. I heard him laugh again. "None of that now. Up and at 'em, the day's a wasting!" He continued as he lightly smacked me on the bottom. "No rest for the wicked and any other home grown adage you'd care to throw in there." I could hear that insufferable smirk in his voice and just knew I wasn't going to be able to laze away the day any longer. Mr P obviously had something in mind.

I grumbled but sat up, yawning and stretching the sleep from my body. I grimaced as I heard a number of joints pop and slowly my brain registered the many aches and pains of my poor mistreated... but satiated... body. It felt good, God; I felt good! Even though I hurt all over, it was the kind of ache you got after an honest day's work... or in my case, days, then nights, then mornings work.

Mr P slipped out of bed and I was tempted to flop back down onto the pillow but I wasn't quick enough as he walked around my side of the bed and threw the covers off me. "Not a chance Honey." He said with a little chuckle. "It's time to get up. It's already after nine."

I pouted. "But that's still early! I'm on holidays, remember?"

"Yes, but I don't take days off of work all the time so I'm going to make the most of it. So out of bed now!" His voice had taken on that no nonsense tone of his and I quickly, though still somewhat sullenly, got out of bed.

Mr P dragged me into his ensuite and ran another shower for us both, toothbrushes included. He was all brisk and business like and I was disappointed to realise that this wasn't to be a slow luxurious shower like before. No this was to be quick and efficient. Once we were both done, he turned the water off and we got out to get dry. As we headed back into his room, he gave me a gentle nudge towards his door. "Go get some clothes on, I feel like going out for breakfast."

I felt my stomach sink with disappointment again. I'd been hoping just to spend the whole day in the house with Mr P, not venturing too far from the bedroom. I sighed with disappointment but did as I was told, heading toward the room I was supposed to be sleeping in to get some clothes.

"Skirt and shirt, no bra, no panties," Mr P said from behind me as I reached his doorway, which made my stride falter. I hesitated in the entrance of his room, standing there naked not knowing if I should turn around and acknowledge his instructions or just nod my head and keep going. In the end I thought it best to turn. I still felt awkward and a little uncomfortable at not wearing panties under my skirt and I think that showed as Mr P smirked at my uneasy stance. But I dropped my eyes and nodded.

"Yes Sir." I answered in a small voice feeling the blush as it spread across my face. My stomach began doing that butterfly thing as my mind thought up all manner of embarrassing things Mr P could ask me to do while we were out in public and then realised that I would, in all likelihood do them simply because it was Mr P asking them of me. My insides trembled at the prospect and I wondered if I should try to be assertive and just say "No" and really mean it! But the thought didn't last more than three seconds in my head as I accepted the fact that regardless of what I was feeling this instant, when push came to shove I was a lost cause and I would end up doing it. Why was I bothering to expend energy trying to fight the inevitable?

All in or all out, I thought to myself, as a small smile touched my lips. This was to be a great turning point in my life and one for the better I hoped.

I made my way to the other bedroom and rummaged around in my suitcase. Selecting a flared skirt and tight fitting tank top that would give my bosom at least some modicum of support, I dressed quickly. Turning to the bed, I espied my black lace under-garments at the foot of the bed. Mr P must have thrown them there at some stage when we'd gotten back from dinner. Bending to retrieve them from the floor, the sudden memory of giving Becky the pink and blue pair I'd bought especially for her came flooding back and I felt as if I'd been punched in the stomach. I sank onto the bed holding the garments in my hands clenched against my tummy as I leant over my knees in an effort to get some air back into my lungs.

Tears came unbidden to my eyes, trickling over my lashes and falling at my feet. God I'd made such a mess of things! Oh, I knew it took two to tango and I knew that it wasn't entirely my fault, but it sure felt like it. I felt so bad for Mr P and Becky. Never mind me. How was their relationship going to survive this? How on earth was everything going to be okay ever again? I hoped against hope that it would be.

I could feel a sob building in my chest but I swallowed it back not wanting to let Mr P see me as a blubbering mess. I needn't have worried. Mr P was already standing in the doorway as I glanced that way to check on his progress. I was hoping to get myself under some semblance of control before he came into the room, but I guess his timing was better than mine, or worse maybe.

He just gazed at me with a sad kind of look in his eyes knowing, without having to ask, what had me upset. He walked over and sat beside me, draping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his chest. "Now no tears! I told you; it'll be okay, we'll sort it out somehow." He reassured me softly.

I desperately wanted to believe him, but I just couldn't see how it would be. "How?" I asked dejectedly.

"Honestly? I don't really know, but we will. I'm sure of that. We just need to give Becky a little bit of space and then try again."

"Do you really believe that Mr P?" I asked sniffing.

He gave me a soft smile as he brushed away my tears. "I really do, Erika."

I so desperately wanted to believe him, but in my heart I just couldn't see it happening. Oh, I still held hope but even that was only tenuous at best. "I wish I had your faith." I said sadly.

Mr P sighed as he squeezed my shoulders again. "Becky will come round, eventually. I've known her a long time remember." He joked trying to ease the tension.

I smiled despite myself and then couldn't help the question that followed. "You've known me a long time too, Mr P. Did you ever imagine this would happen between us?"

He leant back and raised my chin with his hand, staring into my face. "I never imagined anything like this would happen between you and me, ever." He said seriously. "But I'm very glad it did," he told me as he leant down and brushed a fleeting kiss across my lips.

I breathed in deeply and let my eyes close. As much as I agreed with him, I couldn't quite stop the feelings of guilt that sat heavily in my stomach. "Are you sure about that though?" I asked again. Opening my eyes, I stared up into his and saw that 'something' that scared the living shit out of me, but also thrilled me to my core. I would never grow tired of seeing that look in his eyes. I'd offered him my heart and he had taken it. I should have known better than I did, but the guilt made me ignore it and I pushed on. "Are you really sure Mr P? Because if there is even an inkling of a chance that your relationship with Becky will survive this situation if I leave..." I swallowed the huge lump in my throat at what I was going to say next and my voice wavered badly as I finished, "Then I will, I'll leave right now. I don't wantyouto lose Becky too. That would be too much for me to handle. She's my friend, but she's your daughter, Sir. I can't come between that, I just can't!" Big fat tears rolled down my cheeks.

Mr P shook his head, his brow furrowed a little in anger as his fingers dug almost painfully into my shoulders. "Don't ever think that! Not for a second, not ever, do you hear me?" I sniffed pathetically and Mr P's grip loosened somewhat. "Erika, I know you heard the argument I had with Becky yesterday, well most of it anyway. And I stand by what I said. I'm done apologising for being me and for trying to be happy. If my own daughter cannot accept the fact thatyouare the one that makes me happy, then I didn't raise her as well as I thought I did!"

"But..."

"No buts! I won't lose you, not now that I've only just found you." Mr P growled. He laid a palm softly against my cheek; his hand nearly as big as my face. He continued more gently, "Promise me Erika; you won't even think about that again! Not after yesterday."

I blinked and turned my head into his palm, kissing the warm skin of his hand as yesterday's time spent in the kitchen came back to me and I shivered. I half stood and scooted over, ensconcing myself on his lap. I pulled up my knees and tucked my body in against his as I lay my head on his shoulder. His strong arms came about and held me close. "I promise!" I whispered.

"Thank you!" He whispered as he pressed his lips against my brow. "I don't ever want to lose you." His low voice whispered against my skin. It made me shiver and I felt a warm feeling flow outward from my chest, infusing my entire body. I felt all those piercing emotions I had felt for him yesterday resurface and just about crush me with their intensity. His palm was against my cheek once again and he used it to tilt my head upward. I closed my eyes and let him raise my chin as I felt his lips against my temple, then my cheek, then the corner of my mouth; before finally his warm, pliant lips were pressed against mine.

So softly he kissed me, his lips burning and sweet, his breath against my mouth filling me with his warmth. I sighed as I returned his soft kiss, my hand coming up to gently hold his face as well. I opened my mouth to him, my tongue slowly flicking out to tentatively touch his lip. He tilted his head and his mouth moved over mine, his tongue gently snaking out to stroke against mine as the kiss deepened. His kiss was pure and hot and full of such a consuming need for love I felt my heart shatter as I clung to him and poured my soul into his body! This man, this wonderful, scary, incredible man, was everything and more than I could ever have imagined I would find. And even though Becky was still a point of contention for me, I was never going to let him go!

The kiss eased off and eventually, our mouths parted and I sucked in a shaky breath. It was just as well I was sitting down, because whenever Mr P kissed me like that, my legs turned to water! I looked up at him and I clasped my bottom lip between my teeth, my eyes searching his. There it was again, that look that scared and thrilled me. Now I knew I wasn't imagining things... and I was sure he saw the same thing in my eyes too.

My hand was still against his face and I ran my fingers lightly over his lips as I stared at him again. "Mr P, is it too soon to say that I think I'm in love with you?" I whispered.

His hand caught mine and he lightly kissed my fingertips before he stared into my eyes. "I don't think so. I already know I've fallen in love with you." He told me.

I felt that warm sense of well being infuse my entire body once more and my face flushed with colour as I smiled up at him.

"Honey, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about," Mr P said gently, though instantly I felt my stomach drop.

"Yes?" I queried tentatively.

"Considering everything we've been through, everything we've done, I think it's probably about time you started calling me by my first name." He smiled at me then, "Well, when we aren't in the bedroom at least."

I swallowed, relief flushing through me. "Oh!" I said dumbly, realising for the first time that I didn't actually know what his first name was. I knew the family name was Petranovich. But I don't think I could recall Becky even once referring to her dad by his first name, and seriously what young girl took especial note of what old people where talking about when it didn't directly involve them? Becky had always said, 'my dad' this and 'my dad' that, but never once mentioned his real name, not to me at least. No doubt I did the same when talking to her of my father. I looked up at him somewhat guiltily. "Um, I don't actually know what your first name is?" I told him abashedly, chewing on my bottom lip again. "Or if I was told in the past, I don't remember it."

He quirked an eyebrow at me, "Really?" He asked and then chuckled.

I nodded at him. "And besides that I don't know if I could call you anything other than Mr P?" I said. "A habit of a lifetime is hard to break."

He chuckled again. "I know. But I am sure you'll try hmm?"

"Yes sir. I'll try." I answered.

"Good girl." He said as he released my hand and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "So my first name is Misha...in case you were wondering." Mr P said, adding on the end to be a little ironic. "But most of the guys call me Mick. Don't ask me why because I've no idea."

I smiled though and I felt a small blush creep across my cheeks. "Misha." I said, trying out his name on my tongue. It sounded great and I liked the feel of it when I spoke. "Misha." I said again.

I felt Mr P give a small shiver and then he was still. "I like the way you say my name." He said softly.

I smiled. "I can't promise to always remember to call you that. Mr P is pretty ingrained."

"So long as you try, Honey." He told me.

"I promise." I said.

"Good girl." He replied. "Now we need to get going. Breakfast is calling and I'm starving!"

He rose and pulled me with him, setting my feet down on the floor gently. I stood there, promising myself that from now on, I would try not to dwell on the whole screwed up situation. As Mr P had said, he didn't take days off work all that often, so I'd worry about it tomorrow, when I was on my own. He gave me a reassuring smile and wink before leading me by the hand out of the room and down the hall.

The hallway branched off in an "L" shape to the front door, with an arched doorway into the lounge room. I came to a stop behind Mr P as we finally took in the destruction we'd caused the other night after dinner. Nothing had been shifted. We'd been too busy in the bedroom to even venture this far in the house before now. The fallen picture lay with a broken frame in front of the main door, bits of plasterboard from the wall peppered the carpet, one of Mr P's shoes and both of my sandals lay in the middle of the hall and the crack in the wall started about a third of the way up from the floor ... about the spot where my ass had been drilled against it ... and ran all the way to the ceiling. The nadir of the crack was a slightly rounded indentation roughly the shape and size of my backside. It looked like a small earthquake had struck this part of the entrance hall and Mr P let out a small amused sigh.

"Looks like this isn't going to be the simple patch job I thought it would be. I'm going to have to replace this whole section of wall panel." He walked forward and stood before the crack, his hands on his hips as he appraised the damage. "Ah well, it's just lucky I work for a construction business and can get the work done cheap, hmm?" He chuckled and winked at me again, which made me blush slightly with embarrassment. I knew it was both our fault but for some unknown reason I felt the compulsion to apologise for the scene of destruction we were surveying right now.

No wonder Becky had come tearing in thinking that something was wrong. I know I would have thought the same thing. And to be confronted with the scene of your father in bed with your best friend... well, I couldn't even imagine what that would be like to witness. I swallowed the guilty lump in my throat at the thought of my best friend and reminded myself that I wasn't supposed to be dwelling on that today. There would be time enough for that tomorrow.

Mr P stooped to recover his lone shoe and tossed it at the shoe rack near the front door, then stood and handed me my sandals. "Your shoes." I smiled weakly and took them from him bending a little to put them on. "We'll clean the rest of this up later." He said as he moved the painting to one side and leant it against the wall.

I made to approach him, thinking that we'd be leaving immediately, but to my surprise Mr P quickly advanced on me and wrapped his arms about me, pinning my arms to my sides. He hefted me bodily and carried me into the lounge room. He put me down as I felt the back of the sofa fetch up against my bottom and almost immediately his hand was in my hair, yanking back my head as his lips brutally took mine.

His tongue delved deeply into my mouth, sucking the breath from my lungs, making my knees feel weak and unsteady. His teeth nipped and raked across my lips and I moaned into his mouth. I felt my nipples bunch hard beneath the thin material of my shirt as they pressed into his chest and I felt his other hand slide urgently down my side only to slide back up the rear of my thigh under my skirt. I moaned again, making small desperate sounds in my throat as my desire fired once again for this man. My tongue reacted and responded in kind, seeking the hot, moist inside of Mr P's mouth, wanting to taste him, to consume him. My hands gripped handfuls of his shirt on either side of his waist as I felt his hand move up to grip my buttocks, his fingers kneading and stroking at the soft rounded flesh of my ass cheek.

I panted as I ground the top of my pubic bone against one of his thighs trying to massage the ache that had arisen in my throbbing clit. I felt his knee as it pressed between my legs and roughly thrust them wider allowing his questing hand beneath my skirt to slide deeper into the hot, wet recess of my legs and all the while his lips never left mine.

I gasped against his mouth as I felt his finger brush along my nether lips, light and teasing, back and forth, round and round, until I was panting in urgency and thrusting my hips back against his fingers. I'm sure my nails were tearing the material of his shirt where I gripped it, but my eyes were rolled up in their sockets and I didn't care if they were, all I could think of is feeling Mr P's fingers against my young, hot, and now aching pussy.

I cried out in ecstasy, my head jerking back even further, as without warning he impaled me on that finger. I was a blubbering mess as Mr P's mouth travelled across my jaw and down to my shoulder. His finger thrust into my sopping pussy deeper and deeper, over and over again, and like the little hussy I had become with this man, I begged him to keep going with pants and moans and little whispers of "Oh God yes, please Sir!"

Another finger joined the first and my hips thrust down urgently against his fingers as I ached to get them deeper inside of me. I could feel his teeth biting at the flesh of my shoulder, big firm chomps that were followed with a swipe of his hot, wet tongue. I nearly wailed in despair as I felt Mr P jerk his fingers out of me, leaving me empty and longing for more. I heard that mean chuckle of his as he lifted his mouth from the crook of my neck. "You're such a wanton little slut, Honey. But I'm not done with you yet."

The hand in my hair tightened once more, making me wince a little, as his mouth crushed my lips again. His tongue darted deep and hot inside my mouth, eliciting another throaty moan from me. But too soon he broke it off. I didn't have time to voice my complaint as I was spun around on the spot and shoved bodily over the back of the couch. Bent double, my feet just touching the floor by the tips of my toes; I felt my skirt being yanked up from behind and Becky's father's staying hand on the small of my back.