I gave my friends dad a massage and yeah... it went wayyy to far [F19] [M45] [Orgasm] [Teasing] [Rough]

I swear this wasn't planned. Like at all. Don't judge me.

I was staying over at my best friend's house for the weekend — her mom was out of town, so it was just us and her dad. And yeah… her dad's hot. Like, I always noticed, I'm not blind. He's in his 40s, kinda rugged, tan skin, that hot older guy vibe. Always wears fitted tees and smells like expensive cologne and coffee. Quiet. Super calm. The type that just watches and listens more than he talks.

But still. It's her dad. I never thought anything of it.

Anyway, we spent the day laying by the pool, then came back in and were just lounging around. Her dad was moving something in the garage or whatever and later mentioned that his back was killing him. He made a joke like, "Getting old's a bitch."

My friend, being annoying, goes "She can give you a massage. She used to work at a spa."

Which… okay, yeah. One summer I did like front desk and basic back rubs at a spa. But she said it all sarcastic, laughing. He chuckled and was like "Might take you up on that."

Didn't think he meant it.

Fast forward to that night — my friend goes to bed early. I come downstairs for water and her dad's still up, watching something with the volume low. He glances over and goes, "So… still offering those massages?"

I kind of laughed it off, like "Were you serious?"

He smiled, not in a creepy way, just kind of soft. "Only if you're comfortable."

I paused. Not even gonna lie, my stomach flipped a little. My brain was screaming you shouldn't, but my body was like get on his lap.

"Yeah," I said. "I don't mind."

He leaned forward, pulled off his t-shirt, and sat on the edge of the couch. I stood behind him and stared for a sec — broad back, strong shoulders, a few light freckles, toned in that "used to be an athlete" way. It was… a lot.

I sat on my knees on the couch behind him and started working my hands into his shoulders. Just focused. Professional. Kinda.

He groaned, low, like he didn't mean to. "Damn. You're really good at this."

I laughed, nervous. "I told you. Spa girl summer."

But the more I touched him, the weirder it got. Not in a bad way. Just… warmer. Closer. Every time I let my hands go a little lower down his back, he tensed, like he didn't know if he should stop me.

At one point I kind of hesitated with my hands just above his waistband, not moving, just resting there.

He said really quiet, "You can keep going… if you want."

My heart was racing. Like I knew this was a line. I could feel it.

"You sure?" I asked. "I don't wanna make this weird."

He glanced over his shoulder. "It's only weird if we make it weird."

So I kept going. My hands slid lower. His shorts had ridden down a bit. I could see the top of his boxers. My fingers brushed the edge of them, and he exhaled — like a deep, shaky breath.

I moved to straddle behind him, thighs on either side of his hips, still massaging but slower, more teasing. His hands rested on his knees but I could feel the tension all through his body. I swear I wasn't even thinking. I was just feeling.

Then I reached down, and I felt it — he was hard.

Fully. And not small.

I froze. He didn't move.

"You want me to stop?" I whispered.

"No," he said, after a second. "I just don't wanna fuck this up."

That's when I leaned forward, lips near his ear, and said, "Then don't."

He turned his head slightly like he was gonna kiss me but stopped short. Like he still wasn't sure. So I kissed his neck instead. Slow. Soft. Then again.

I slid my hands down, under the waistband of his shorts, wrapped my fingers around his dick, and holy fuck — he was thick. Heavy in my hand. Already leaking.

He let out the quietest groan, like he was trying not to let it happen. I stroked him slow, just watching his body react.

After a few seconds, he turned around and pulled me into his lap. Our faces were close. Too close.

"We shouldn't," he whispered.

"But we're going to," I said.

That's when he kissed me. Hard. Like something in him finally snapped. His hands were suddenly all over me — gripping my ass, sliding under my shirt, grabbing my tits. I was moaning into his mouth before he even touched my pussy.

He picked me up, carried me to the couch like it was nothing, laid me back, and pulled my shorts down. His eyes locked on my pussy, already soaked, lips slick and puffy.

"Jesus," he breathed. "You're wet."

"You gonna do something about it?"

He didn't answer. Just dropped to his knees between my thighs and ate me out like a man who hadn't had pussy in months.

Slow at first — flat tongue, slow circles on my clit, two fingers sliding in deep. Then faster. Rougher. I was whining, legs shaking, hips bucking off the couch while he pinned me down and devoured me.

I came in like three minutes. Loud. Gripping the back of his head and shaking.

He came up, wiped his mouth, and said, "Where's your bag?"

I pointed to the chair. He found a condom, tore it open, rolled it on, and crawled over me, lining himself up. He paused, forehead resting against mine.

"This okay?" he asked one last time.

I nodded. "Please. Just fuck me."

He pushed in slowly — and I swear I almost cried. He was so thick. The stretch was unreal. He held still once he was fully in, letting me breathe, both of us shaking.

Then he started to move.

Slow. Deep. Every stroke hit perfectly. I wrapped my legs around him, dug my nails into his back, whispered his name when he picked up the pace and started fucking me like he couldn't hold back anymore.

"You feel… so fucking good," he grunted. "Tight little body. Fuck."

I was already on the edge. He grabbed my thigh, bent my knee up, changed the angle and slammed into my g-spot over and over until I came again. Screaming. Soaked. Pussy fluttering around his cock.

But he wasn't done.

He flipped me over, pulled my hips up, and slid back in from behind. Rougher now. Slapping into me. I was gripping the cushions, biting the pillow, moaning into it while he pounded me so hard I couldn't even speak.

He reached around and rubbed my clit while he fucked me and I swear my brain broke. I came one more time, body twitching, sobbing his name while he groaned and filled the condom, thrusting deep and slow while he emptied into me.

Afterward, we just laid there.

Not talking.

Breathing heavy.

I pulled the blanket over us and whispered, "Still got that back pain?"

He laughed into my neck. "Yeah… might need a follow-up."