Part 1: The Starter
Sofia was pissed. Her family, uncles and aunts, and a dozen nephews and nieces were taking a summer holiday together. They had leased two adjoining beachfront properties outside some hick town, halfway to nowhere. She hoped to God that they at least had WiFi. It’s not that she didn’t like her family. It’s not that she’d miss the first couple of weeks of the prime party season. It’s not that she knew her so-called boyfriend wouldn’t use this time to chase as much tail as he could. It’s that, at nineteen, she was the eldest of all her cousins by more than two years, and the next eldest was a sleazy sixteen-year-old boy who was always trying to look up her skirt or down her top.
The never-ending drive was a nightmare. Sitting in the backseat for hours with her little brothers bickering the whole time, her parents’ dumbass music playing continuously, and her cordless headphones, for some stupid reason, failing to connect to her bloody phone had just about driven her insane. Finally, when Sofia thought she couldn’t take any more, they arrived at their destination. She had to admit the place looked lovely, but lovely or not, it was going to be her prison for the next two weeks.
The first kick in the guts came when she heard about the sleeping arrangements. Not only was she sharing a room with the twelve-year-old terrible twins, Vanessa and Stephanie, but she was also in the same house as Pete the Perv. Fan-fucking-static. The second kick in the guts came when she found out that the only bathroom in the house was next to Pete the Perv’s room; there was a separate toilet, though, thank god for small mercies. The third and final kick came when she realised that the only bathing suit she bought with her was her skimpiest one that she kept for “special occasions”. This was going to be a fucking nightmare.
It was agreed that we would all meet up in the late afternoon, have a swim, and a huge cookout on the beach. Sofia looked at the tiny pieces of cloth in her bag and sighed. Might as well get this over with. She stripped, dressed as quickly as she could, wrapped a towel around her waist, and, after applying a thick layer of sunscreen, hesitantly wandered down to the beach. She was the living embodiment of that stupid song that Dad loved to sing: Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie … you know the rest.
Trying not to be self-conscious, Sofia had a swim, a burger, and was even offered a beer, which she politely turned down. The whole time, Pete the Perv couldn’t take his eyes off her and, at times, tried to hide a boner. She was tempted to tease him with an accidental nip-slip, or perhaps leave her legs open just enough for him to take a good look. In the end, she thought better of it; she didn’t want to give the thrill of it. Besides, he was the kind of bastard who would take a picture and post it on the internet. That evening, Sofia’s mother took her aside and suggested that they go into town the next day and buy a more modest bathing suit. She could have kissed her.
It was later that evening when she went in for her shower that things got a little weird. The bathroom was a large room with a big old, claw-foot tub at one end, a frosted glass shower cubicle at the other, a toilet in the corner, a vanity, a chair, and a number of handrails that doubled as towel rails. The door, thankfully, had a lock, but it was a pathetic slide-bolt that wouldn’t stop a determined two-year-old. So, soak or shower? Sofia thought to herself. The bath wasn’t a spa, boo, but it did come with a lovely hand shower, perfectly suited for a little sexy time. In the end, she decided on a shower. After making sure the door was locked, Sofia opened the shower door, turned off the water, took off her clothes and stepped inside the cubicle. It did not take long for Sofia’s “spidey senses” to start tingling. She could feel eyes on her.
“Peter! That better not be you out there!” she called.
No answer. She opened the cubicle door and looked around. There was no one there, and the bathroom door was still locked. It must be just an aftereffect of Pete the Perv’s eyes on her body. More than a little rattled, Sofia quickly finished her shower, got dressed and, almost at a run, went to her room. The terrible twins were giggling and playing some stupid game, but she found it comforting after the creepiness of the bathroom.
***
In the morning, Sofia and her mother drove into town and, after a long discussion, settled on a new bikini rather than a one-piece. The rest of the day was more or less the same as the previous evening. Swimming, eating, lying in the sun, playing silly games, the usual shit you do on holidays. Sofia had enough bars to check her socials, read and send a few messages, so she was, all in all, in a reasonable mood. Lying on her back in the late afternoon sun, she realised she was horny. Looking around, she saw she was the only person on the beach and was more or less out of view of anyone in the houses.
Lying back down, she let her fingers run down her stomach to the top of her bikini bottom. Looking around again, she ran her fingers over the top of the fabric, down her thighs and back over the fabric again. Getting a little bolder, she slipped her fingers under the fabric and began stroking, patting, probing. Getting bolder still, she exposed one of her breasts and teased her nipple with the tip of her finger. With a long, loud moan, Sofia pushes a finger into her pussy, then a second. She rolled her nipple between her fingers. And three little girls emerge from the nearest house and come running down the beach toward her, screaming all the way. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!! Sofia bolts upright, covers herself and desperately tries not to look guilty. That was close.
She had forgotten about the creepiness of the bathroom until it was her turn to bathe that evening. As she locked the door behind her, she was suddenly self-conscious. She looked around the room nervously and, knowing it was dumb, pushed the chair against the door.
“Ha! Try getting through that,” she said to no one in particular.
Sofia tried to relax in the shower, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. She could almost feel the eyes touching her, studying her, watching her every movement. She knew there was no one in the room; she knew there was no way anyone could get into the room. She was safe from prying eyes. Sofia pushed feelings to the back of her mind and finished her shower in peace.
After completing her shower without incident, she dragged the chair back into place, opened the door and stepped out directly in front of Pete the Perv. Rage flared inside Sofia.
“Were you trying to watch me in the shower just now, you little sleazeball?”
Peter stepped back with a surprised, perhaps even hurt, expression on his face. Then, with a cruel smile, said, “Who’d want to look at you with your tiny titties and your fat arse?”
It was Sofia’s turn to be surprised. This hurt her. She knew it shouldn’t, but it really stung. She felt her eyes go heavy. She was not going to cry; she was going to attack. Sofia stepped forward until they were just about nose-to-nose, looked him in the eye and said in a calm, quiet voice, “If I catch you looking at me again, I’ll get a pair of scissors and cut your little pecker off while you sleep. Got that!”
And, with all the dignity she could muster, turned and walked to her room.
***
The following day, everyone went for a road trip up the coast, then into the forest. Sofia was thankful that she barely saw Pete the Perv all day. On the drive, she asked her family if the bathroom in their house seemed creepy to them; they didn’t, so she let the topic drop. During a forest walk, someone mentioned surveillance cameras in passing, and a light bulb went off in her brain. Hidden cameras!
When she got home hours later, she went into the bathroom and ripped it apart. She inspected all the walls, opened all the cupboards, fished around in the air vent with a nail file, took out the light globes, hell, she even removed the cover of the extraction fan. Nothing. Was she going crazy? She decided that she would not have a shower that night.
In the morning, she felt dirty; she really wanted a shower but was almost too afraid to go into the bathroom and used the separate toilet and basin instead. After another day in the sun, Sofia wanted nothing more than a long, hot shower and wash her filthy hair and didn’t care who was watching. With her mind made up, she enjoyed her shower that night, and for the rest of the week, she showered without a care in the world.
***
By the beginning of the second week, Sofia was hot and horny. There was not enough privacy for a little “me time”, and she was beginning to feel it. There was another road trip planned for today, so no chance of a quickie there. She could not bring herself to do it with her young cousins in her room. The beach, as she found, was not safe. The only place she had any privacy was the bathroom, but she was still a little strange in there. Sofia thought of the bathtub and its hand shower with longing. A friend had told her about the pleasures of a properly directed stream of water, and it was high on the list of things to try. Maybe tonight.
Unfortunately, there was no time after the road trip. Too many people wanted showers, and she knew she didn’t have the time to pamper herself. Feeling disappointed, Sofia could only havea quick shower before bed, but the shower was glorious. The hot water, the slippery soap, even the vague sense of being watched, were working together to get her worked up. She wished she had the time to go further. A loud knock at the door brings her back to reality. She hears Pete the Perv shout;
“Hey! Leave some hot water for the rest of us.”
Sofia hated it, but she knew the Perv was right.
“Okay, I’ll only be a minute.”
She dried, dressed and opened the door to see Pete the Perv standing there. She gave him her best smile, made a snip-snip gesture with her fingers and watched him flinch. She turned and walked away, swaying her hips just a little to give the bastard a show. Fat arse indeed!
***
Someone had gone into town at some time and chartered a fishing boat, and today was the day. Everybody was going out for a day of fishing, but Sofia had different ideas. She usually quite enjoyed fishing, but the call of solitude, the bathtub and the hand shower were too strong. Claiming disinterest, Sofia convinced her mother to let her stay and beamed as she waved goodbye to them as they left. She knew she couldn’t spend the whole day diddling herself, so she would wait a few hours and build up the anticipation.
She took out her phone, looked at her socials, chatted to a few friends, and even watched a movie. Finally, the tension got the better of her. For educational purposes, she got onto a porn site and watched a couple of videos of women using hand showers. She was ready. Sofia grabbed a couple of towels and almost trotted into the bathroom.
After locking the door, she moved the chair to the edge of the bath and set up her phone so she could watch her favourite porn, took off her clothes and stepped into the bath. Turning on the shower, set it to a comfortable temperature and adjust the flow to a hard spray. She lies back into the bath, back against the backrest. She flinched when the cold porcelain touched her back, but she’s too horny to let that get to her. Watching her phone, she aims the spray at one of her nipples, then the other.
The water was like warm, blunt needles flicking across her skin. Nice, but nothing special. She ran the spray down her stomach, along the insides of her thighs; the sensation was very ticklish, and Sofia stifled a giggle. Biting the bullet, Sofia spread her legs wide, bit her lip in anticipation, and directed the spray directly at her pussy. Again, nice, very nice in fact, but not the leg shaking sensation in the videos she had watched. When the sharp, warm streams pushed against her clit, it took her breath away; now that was nice. It was sort of like the time (the only time!) Brad went down on her, only this was much better. Sofia found that if she held the shower exactly right with one hand and spread her lips a little with the other, more of the tiny streams would hit her clit directly, and that was amazing. She lay there, watching her phone, moaning softly, drinking in the feeling, but she doubted it would get her off. She needed more.
Sitting up, she turned the water pressure up as high as it could go, readjusted the shower head so she had a single, hard stream, set the water temperature considerably higher, and started again. This was more like it. It wasn’t just nice, it was fantastic! She’ll never doubt Tish again. As the minutes passed, Sofia sank lower in the bath and lay down fully, hooking her legs over the edges to stop her from slipping. For the first time in more than a week, she could feel an orgasm building inside her. More minutes passed, and Sofia was in heaven, her soft mewing noises becoming gasps, her gasps becoming grunts. She was rubbing the shower head directly against her clit, pinching her nipples, biting her lips. Her head was back, her eyes were closed, and she felt as if she was being stroked all over. Her breast cupped, her lips brushed, it even felt as though her feet were being tickled.
Then, almost without warning, she came. Her legs had become unhooked, and she was slipping and sliding around in the bottom of the bath; laughing, panting and moaning at the same time. Water was going everywhere. She needed that so badly. After catching her breath, Sofia gets out of the tub, quickly cleans the bathroom, and, without bothering to get dressed, collapses on the bed, grinning the whole time.
Sofia awoke an hour or so later. She quickly dressed and made the bed. Checking to see if the bathroom was clean, she saw the phone on the chair where she had left it. She finished the final tidy of the bathroom and realised that she was starving. Sofia went down to the kitchen, grabbed something to eat and waited for everyone to return.
Part 2: The Main Course
It was the last full day of their holiday, and Sofia was pissed. Scratch that, she was in a blind rage. Brad had been AWOL for a few days. Friends she chatted with hadn’t seen him and Sofia was getting seriously worried. This morning she checked his feed, and there was a picture of him, the shitstain, at a party, with her best friend Janet, the bitch, sitting on his lap, with her arms wrapped around his neck. The picture was captioned, “What a cute couple.” When she got back, she’d wrap her hands around him and wring his fucking neck! She knew Brad was a bit of a horn-dog, but Janet, someone she had been friends with for years, was kind, supportive, and someone she thought she could trust; it was unbelievable, and it hurt.
She looked further and found some more pictures from the party, and there they were, and in the background of a random picture, his tongue down her throat. How could she do this? Sofia stormed through the day, hardly talking to anyone. Barely looking at them. She walked up and down the beach for hours, mile after mile, fury personified. They were leaving bright and early in the morning, so there was plenty of cleaning, organising and packing to be done. She did what she had to do and then went straight back to pacing the beach. If anyone noticed her mood, no one mentioned it.
There was a big meal planned for that night, a big celebration before going their separate ways in the morning. Everybody was to meet in the other house in the late afternoon, and that suited Sofia to the ground. She would grab something quick to eat, wave the flag for a while, then head back to her room in the empty house. Her fury had settled down to a dull ache, and she did not want to be in anyone’s company right now. Sofia had a glass of wine with her meal, and another with dessert. there has a toast to the family with some real, imported Champagne.
She was almost enjoying herself, and the alcohol had dulled the ache a little, but she knew it was time to bow out quietly and go back to the now-empty house. Even though they were getting up pretty early in the morning, it was still too early to go to bed. She couldn’t face her phone; she considered another session in the bathtub, but her heart wasn’t in it. In the end, she just sat on the porch and watched the sun set. Eventually, she had had enough and decided to have a quick shower and go to bed.
Sofia locked the door, ripped off her clothes and threw them angrily into the corner. She got the water nice and hot, stepped into the shower cubicle and hoped the water would wash her cares away. The water on her skin felt good. When she thought about it, other than her session in the bath earlier in the week, she hadn’t really noticed how good the water felt here. It wasn’t like the water at home; it seemed thicker, it seemed to cling to the body longer. When it ran over her skin, it almost felt like being physically touched. The softest caresses of her breasts. Curious fingers running down her thighs. The water was like a warm hug. No, more erotic than that, more like a naked snuggle.
No, she wasn’t drunk. She only had two glasses of wine. And a glass of Champagne. And a big serving of Aunt Leisha’s trifle. But she was not drunk. Although she did not make a habit of it, she had on occasion had a little too much to drink at parties, and she knew what it felt like, and this wasn’t it. She thought that it was a pity that there was only a fixed shower here; a little bit of directed water might be nice right about now. Maybe, if she hadn’t had that silly notion of being watched in her head, she could have enjoyed this feeling more often over the last couple of weeks. With the possibility of people coming home at any time, Sofia thought that the bathroom might be a little too risky, so the bed it was. Bed, her phone and her trusty fingers. They’re far more reliable than Brad anyway.
Feeling her heart rate climb in anticipation of what she was about to do. Sofia almost leapt out of the shower, being in a rush to get into her bed. As she dried herself, she squirmed a little as the towel’s roughness sent tingles throughout her body. Wrapping one towel around herself, she grabbed another towel, dried the tips of her hair, then wrapped it around her head. Sofia watched in wonder as the towel around her body unwound and dropped to the floor. She saw it in the mirror. Where she tucked the towel in over her right breast, it sort of unfolded and dropped away. It was unbelievable, but not as unbelievable as, a few moments later, she felt hands cupping her breasts.
She was too stunned to move as hands began to gently squeeze her boobs and fingers teasing the tips of her nipples. Sofia has sensitive nipples and loves having them played with, and, strange as this was, this was no exception. She looked down and could see her breasts moving rhythmically, her nipples sort of rocking side to side. She looked in the mirror and saw the same thing. Sofia’s mind simply couldn’t process what was happening, but she couldn’t deny that it felt good. Suddenly, there were more hands; fingers were stroking her buttocks, behind her knees, the back of her neck. Sofia, already primed by the shower, felt her juices start to flow. The face of the girl that looked back at her changed from a look of confusion to a look of lust. Something was wrong; this simply could not be happening, but she didn’t care. When fingers stroked the insides of her thighs, Sofia shifted her weight, spread her feet wider, and let the fingers do the work.
Hands ran up both sides of her thighs, stopped before they got to her pussy, and went back down. Her boobs were still being gently kneaded, her nipples rolled between firm fingers, and the hands on her thighs started their slow ascent again. The face in the mirror was getting flushed, her breathing deeper. The hands got a little higher this time before starting down. Sofia’s nipples were pinched firmly, drawing a gasp from her lips. A gasp of pleasure or one of pain, she could not tell. Fingers ran down her spine, sending shivers through her entire body as the hands began their upward march again.
Another pinch, another gasp, as the hands briefly, and ever so lightly, brushed her pussy, before retreating. She could not see the girl anymore because her head was back and her eyes were screwed up tight. A single hand went up one thigh, tickled softly across her pussy and down the side. The kneading had stopped, and her nipples were being even so slightly tugged and twisted. A single hand went up from the same thigh so recently caressed, it again brushed against her pussy and down, back to where it started. Sofia’s breath was coming in short, sharp pants. One more touch, she thought, just one more touch, and she was going to come. Both hands began their ride up her thigh at the same time. The kneading restarted. Fingers run down her spine. The hands were getting closer. This was it. When fingers stroked her pussy lips, Sofia came.
Sofia’s eyes were wide, staring forward but seeing nothing. She rocked her hips back and forth, making little yelping noises as she gasped for air. Her legs were trembling so much she could hardly stand, and it was only her grip on the towel rail that kept her upright. That. Was. Fantastic. Another nipple pinch brought her back to reality. A hand was running up her thigh again, this time, when it got to her pussy, fingers explored the delicate folds of the lips. Patting them, stroking them, spreading them. The hands were still doing their intimate work, and Sofia didn’t want them to stop. The towel on her head slowly peeled away and fell to the floor.
Fingers ran through her damp hair, across her neck and down her flanks, tickling her all the way. The hands on her boobs were taking a break, but she felt another hand working its way up her thigh again. Her pussy ached a little after coming so recently, but she was still so wet, still wanted more, wanted these fingers in her, to fuck her. The second hand reached her pussy and, after a brief pause, thrummed against her clit. The fingers were pushing deeper into her lips, almost deep enough to slip in. Minute after minute, this continued; in her mind, she was begging the fingers for more. Another minute passed, and she was on the point of madness, until, finally, a finger pushed slowly into her. Slowly out and slowly in. Sofia gripped the towel rail, moved her feet further apart and leaned forward. Slowly in, slowly out. The other fingers began a soft, swirling motion on her clit. Alternating between sighs and gasps, Sofia catches a glimpse of the girl in the mirror and sees she’s having the time of her life.
The rhythm of the thrusting increased, causing Sofia put her hand over her mouth,h trying to stifle the sounds of her excitement. She and Brad had been having sex regularly for months now, and she had thought that it was pretty good. She was able to come pretty much every time, which is more can be said, going by stories told by a number of her girlfriends. True, it took a team effort, a team where she did most of the heavy lifting, but she always felt satisfied afterwards. If sex with Brad was good, this was fucking fantastic! The firm, consistent thrusting, the gentle whirling motion on her clit, and just the occasional tweak of a nipple to keep her on her toes.
Sofia felt as if a second, or perhaps even a third, finger had joined the first in her pussy. She felt pleasantly stretched and nicely filled, as an agreeable warmth radiated from her groin. It suddenly dawned on Sofia that she was going to come again. And soon. As if responding to her growing excitement, the thrusting picked up tempo; she could hear the slap, slap, slap sound of something smacking against her wet pussy. The whirling became firmer, more insistent. Sofia’s legs could barely hold her up as she gripped the towel rail tightly, moments from orgasm. Biting her lip in a vain attempt to keep the noise to a minimum, she came.
Sofia was sitting on the bathroom floor, her back against the wall, not knowing how or when she fell. She struggled to catch her breath as her body gave a series of little twitches. And she was beaming. She had seen women in porn, thrash around for what seemed like hours or come a dozen times in a lovemaking session. Sofia thought this was just the bullshit they put in these dumb videos. One of her friends bragged that, once she was worked up, she could come over and over again. She thought that was crap, too. Sofia had only ever had one orgasm per session, whether that was with Brad or alone. She never even thought to try for any more. But there she was, sitting on her arse in a strange bathroom, having come twice, in what, ten minutes? And feeling fucking fantastic!
A hand caressed her cheek. Another ran its fingers tenderly through her hair, while a third stroked her shoulder and arm. Sofia felt warm, comfortable and, strange as it may seem, loved. She sat there, her breathing now more or less under control, bathing in the afterglow of her orgasms. Thinking it was about time to sit up and get dressed, she was surprised when the hands resumed their intimate attack on her body. They were on her breasts again; one moment caressing, the next massaging. Other hands were sweeping up and down her calves, each sweep going a little higher with each sweep.
When they swept past her knees, Sofia instinctively opened her legs slightly, so they could go even higher. She didn’t know if she had anything left in the tank, but she was certainly willing to give it a try. The fondling of her breasts became more urgent, and her nipples were again receiving some attention. While one hand stroked her inner thigh, fingers were running through her trimmed bush. A feeling that wasn’t exactly ticklish, nor was it erotic, but somewhere in between. Sofia could feel her heart rate picking up as her passion began to slowly grow.
Hands took her gently by the shoulders and, as she began to move, by the hips. She was being guided forward until she was on her hands and knees. So it was doggy style, was it? Sofia mused as a big smile split her face. The fingers wasted no time and found her pussy immediately. Spreading her, patting her, stroking her, and pushing into her. She was still a little tender, but the finger felt as good now as it did when all this started. Another finger seemed to join the first as Sofia began to rock back and forth, riding each thrust, pushing herself against nothing but thin air. A finger brushed against her lips.
Without thinking, she took it into her mouth and began sucking. She could feel the stirring of her third orgasm; it was building slowly, but she knew she was tiring and might not be able to bring it home. At the edge of her awareness, she felt her buttocks being spread, and the persistent thrusting made it difficult to think properly. She felt a finger patting her butt hole, stroking it, applying gentle pressure to it, and it felt surprisingly good. Just as her mind cottoned on to what was happening, the finger slid home.
There was a brief flash of pain and a sense of discomfort in the arse, but, by god, it heightened the feeling in her pussy. After a minute, the finger in her butt began probing deeper. It no longer felt uncomfortable; it felt good. The thrusting and probing were maddening. Sofia arched her back, she rocked her hips, her face changed from grimace to smile and back again. Her arms gave out, and she found herself face down on a discarded towel, and she was coming.
Sofia pushed the towel against her face and gave a loud cry. She screamed, she grunted, she bit the towel until her jaw ached. Someone could be home any minute, as she didn’t want to be heard. Sofia rolled over onto her back, her toes curling, her legs drawing up and then extending repeatedly. She was in heaven and hell at the same time. And the fingers just kept going. Probing and thrusting. Thrusting and probing.
Sofia’s body was slick with sweat, her chest was heaving, and she didn’t know if she could take any more. Hands were exploring her breast once more, and she was sucking a finger again. Her were stroking her body. No more! She could take no more. The stroking hands changed their attack; they were now tickling her; her belly, her armpits, her feet, any exposed flesh. Sofia writhed, she giggled, she tried to move out of range of these tormenting fingers, but they were always there. An unstoppable force is building inside her. One more. She wanted one more. Her towel was gone, and she was moaning loudly. Sofia didn’t care. She didn’t care if anyone heard. Hell, at this moment, she wouldn’t have cared if Peter the Perv was standing over her having a wank. The force struck Sofia and let herself go.
Lying on her back, a scrunched-up towel underneath her, Sofia let the minutes pass. The floor was cold, the towel uncomfortable, her body still buzzed and occasionally pulsed, but she was happy. More than that, she felt calm and at peace. More minutes passed, and she was beginning to think it was time to do something about actually moving when there was a sharp knock at the bathroom door.
“Sofia? You okay in there, sweetheart?”
Fuck, it was Dad. Sofia struggled to find her words, but was able to stammer a weak, yes.
“You disappeared a while back, and we were worried. You sure you’re okay?”
She had collected her thoughts well enough to make a coherent sentence,
“I’m fine, I was just about to hop in for a shower. I’ll be out in a minute.”
“Okay. If you’re sure.”
Dragging herself to her feet, Sofia concluded that she really needed another shower. She turned on the water, stepped into the cubicle and cheekily muttered,
“Keep your hands to yourself this time.”
She showered without further incident, dressed, and with a quick, embarrassed trot, made it to her bedroom without being seen.
***
An hour or so later, after she had streamed a movie and the terrible twins had been put to bed, Sofia found she was ravenous; all that exercise, she smirked. Making her way down to the kitchen, she saw that her father was sitting at the kitchen table doing something on the laptop. She felt more than a little uncomfortable seeing her father at the moment. Had he heard anything? Her father saw her and smiled, and she felt comfortable again. Sofia walked over to the fridge, just as she was about to open it, her father looked at her again, his smile faded, and he said
“You sure you’re okay? You were out of sorts all day.”
She couldn’t tell him she could talk earlier because she was still coming down from a mind-blowing orgasm. A half-truth was more believable than a lie, it was said, so let’s go.
“Brad posted a picture to his feed today. He and Janet were getting cosy with each other at a party. I found a few more pictures from the party, and they were kissing.”
Her father looked at her, nothing but compassion in his eyes. He held her by the shoulders and said,
“Brad’s a pig. And so is Janet.”
He gave her a hug, which made her feel better. He was a pain in the arse, and he drove her mad most of the time, but she never doubted that he loved her.
“Fuck ’em! You deserve so much better.”
She was shocked, having rarely heard her father swear, but she smiled and nodded, tears in her eyes.
“Maybe you should head off to bed, we’ve got to get up early. Trust me, things will look different in the morning.”
“It’s a bit too early to go to sleep. I’ll grab a snack and sit up a while.”
He smiled at her, closed the laptop, and walked toward the door.
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Sofia, feeling all warm and fuzzy inside, opened the fridge. What the hell was there to eat?
Part 3: The Dessert
Something woke Sofia up from her sleep. Looking at her phone, she saw it was a little after midnight; she’d only been asleep for half an hour or so. She rolled over, trying to get back to sleep, but the soft drink she had earlier was weighing heavily on her bladder. Sighing, Sofia got out of bed, put on her dressing gown and walked to the bedroom door. Off to the bathroom for another session with the magic hands, she teased herself. Could she? No! Definitely not. Her nipples were still sore, and her pussy just a bit tender. Opening the door, Sofia saw a light coming from the bathroom. Missed your chance, the cheeky voice cooed. Slipping quietly past the bathroom and Peter the Perv’s room, she headed off to the spare toilet further down the hall. On her return journey down the hall, Sofia heard something from within the bathroom. Pausing for a moment, she could hear what sounded like speech. As she listened, she could make out a voice.
“Yeah, right there.”
She leaned a little closer.
“Don’t stop! For fuck sake, don’t stop!”
Sofia’s mind reeled. It was her mother’s voice. Sofia just knew that the ghostly hands were at work again, but this time her mother was the target. She also knew she should go back to bed, but her curiosity got the better of her. She had knowledge of exactly what those hands could do, what their touch felt like and how her body had responded. Her experience told her how good her mother must be feeling right now. She should go, but she couldn’t. Feeling a pinch of shame, she put her ear against the door, wanting to hear more.
“You want me to come again, do you?” her mother snarled, “Go ahead, I can take it.”
Sofia blushed, both embarrassed and excited. This was her mother speaking, sounding for all the world like a porn star. It seemed as though she was just the other side of the door, almost against it. The sounds of her mother’s excitement was turning her on. The grunts and groans. The gasps and sighs. The incoherent muttering. Sofia’s fingers found their way inside her knickers, and she was so wet. She was imagining the fingers on her again. In her again. God, was she turned on.
“Omygodomygodomygodomygod…” her mother almost whimpered,
Although she couldn’t see, what she could hear let Sofia in no doubt that her mother was on the point of an orgasm. Only an arm’s length away, her mum was going to come.
“I’m going to come again. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna… I’m gonna… I’m…”
If Sofia had rarely heard her father swear, she had never heard her mother swear. To be fair, she’d never heard her mother having an orgasm either. She could hear her mother’s rasping breath, and there was a deep, almost growling, sound. Although she was a bit sore, Sofia couldn’t stop her fingers from gently stroking her clit.
“Keep going… I’m not done yet…” her mother’s snarling voice was back, “That’s it, deeper!”
Sofia couldn’t believe how turned on she was just listening to this. Her mother sounded so sexy. She could hear how much her mother was into what was happening to her. Sofia wished she could see through the door. To watch her mother being fucked by these hands. More than that, she wanted… Stop! Don’t you dare complete that thought a voice screamed in her mind. Sofia almost flung herself away from the door. Bed. You must go back to bed. NOW! Sofia staggered away, back to her room, passed the snoring twins and into her bed. You’re not going to diddle yourself to the mental image of mum getting her rocks off. Are you? You are going to snuggle up and go to sleep now. Aren’t you? To her surprise, Sofia found herself drifting off to sleep with the thought, I wonder if Aunt Leisha had her turn in the bathroom, rolling around in her head.
***
Sofia awoke to the sound of activity. She got dressed, stripped the bed, dragged the linen to the laundry and finished her packing. Aunt Leisha came in, said hello and got the terrible twins up. Sofia again briefly thought about Aunt Leisha and the bathroom, but quickly brushed it aside; don’t go there again.
Sofia now stripped the twins’ beds and dumped the linen in the laundry as well. She was doing everything to avoid meeting her mother, not knowing whether she could look her in the eyes after last night. She had to finally make it to the kitchen, only to find that she and Aunt Leisha were over at the other house, finalising a few things. A reprieve, nothing more. Sofia grabbed something to eat, then washed, dried, and put away the stack of dishes that waited in the sink. Time to bite the bullet.
The next couple of hours were a blur. Packing the car, folding sheets, hugging family and waving goodbye. Sofia hardly saw her mother and felt relieved. Her little family were the last to leave, waiting for the agent to do an inspection and take the keys. After the snooty agent left, Sofia looked over to her mother and saw she was tired. Bone weary.
A naughty thought passed through her mind. How long was she under the spell of those ghostly hands? She remembered her mother saying she was going to “come again”, and casually wondered how many times she did come. I came four times, she thought to herself somewhat proudly. Sofia stifled a laugh. Was she really trying to compare herself to her mother? Did she want a competition to see who was the biggest, baddest, sex beast in town? The big bitch of the family? After what she heard through the door last night, there was only ever going to be one winner in that competition, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be me.
With a sigh, Sofia contemplated the last two weeks. It had been one hell of a holiday. On the upside, she had experienced pleasures she had only seen in porn before and found that her body was capable of so much more than anything she thought was possible. On the downside, she discovered Brad was an arsehole, and Janet was a two-faced bitch. All in all, Sofia realises she’s going to come home a changed person, and it will be a change for the better. As she walked away from the house, Sofia saw her father come up to her mother, put his hand tenderly on her shoulder and say,
“You look tired. I’ll take the first leg of the drive home, and you rest.”
Her mother visibly flinched as Sofia gave a soft, knowing chuckle.
“You sound better today, sweetheart.”
“You were right, Dad, things do look better in the morning light.”
Sofia stepped forward and gave her father a peck on the cheek, and he beamed at her.
“Thanks, Dad.” Looking over to her mother, she continued, “Dad’s right, Mum, you do look tired. Park your arse in the car and rest, I’ll round up the boys.”
Her brothers were playing some sort of chasing game that involved throwing seaweed at each other. Lovely! Using a combination of bribes and threats, Sofia got the boys back in the car without too much fuss. Looking at her mother again, Sofia found she had a new respect for her. She had always been a great mother to her and her brothers; she was a genuinely nice person, she ran her own business, and, if what Sofia heard last night was anything to go by, a demon in the sack. What a woman! A woman whom she could aspire to be.
“Let’s get this show on the road, Dad. It’s been an interesting holiday, but I think it’s time to go home now.”
As they pulled away from the house that Sofia thought was going to be her prison, she had only one question going through her mind. Aunt Leisha? Did she get to experience the bathroom’s ghostly hands, too?