The previous three parts are here: [Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/enlgbn/he_mistook_her_for_a_shy_girl_mforalcheat) [Part 2](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/eo2uyf/he_mistook_her_for_a_shy_girl_part_2_the_slippery) [Part 3](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/eok7oy/he_mistook_her_for_a_shy_girl_part_3_raising_the)
**Part 4:**
The wind was unseasonably cold and it buffeted Chris as he trudged towards the bus station. He knew she’d be waiting for him – the girl of his dreams and increasingly his nightmares. He glimpsed her in the bus shelter ahead staring into the mid-distance, her slim frame concealed in a long puffer jacket, its seams tinged with fur. He fixed her with an icy glare as he approached, he certainly wasn’t in the mood for talking.
“You’re upset,” she began.
“It’s gone beyond that.”
“Maybe I misjudged things… I am afraid sometimes I don’t know where to stop.”
“Or in other words – you’re a manipulative bitch!”
“Hm, I’ve been called worse.”
“You’ve ruined my relationship with my own daughter. It’s hard to even look her in the eye.”
“That’s only in your head Chris… She’s blissfully unaware of what happened.”
“Just leave her the fuck out of it, OK.”
“You should be thanking me… I’ve given you your wildest fantasies and with no strings attached.”
Chris could barely contain his anger, which was not an emotion he felt comfortable with. Utilising his physical advantage he took two fistfuls of her coat and pushed her forcefully backwards, pinning her against the perspex wall. For a fleeting moment he saw fear in those cool azure eyes.
“This ends here…” he said, each word emphatic.
“Not quite Chris, I’m in the country five more days,” she pushed back it him, but his grip was resolute. “You do know Tammy is throwing an impromptu garden party this weekend – a farewell for Jess and I.”
“Yes…” he lied
“Well then, let’s keep it genial until then… eh?”
He maintained the firm grip upon her jacket, his seething rage writ clear across his face.
“The look in your eyes Chris… I don’t know whether you’re going to hit me or fuck my lights out.” It occurred to him that he didn’t know either.
“I just hope you can live with yourself,” he managed, before releasing his grip on her jacket and marching away. He didn’t look back.
Chris had meant to bring the relationship with Chloe to a definitive end, yet here he was, preparing to be full of joy and smiles in front of those invited to his wife’s impromptu party. She’d even invited Chloe’s parents – although he was interested to understand how they had managed to produce such a cunning little bitch. It was also the last time he would have to face his daughter, at least for the year that she would spend travelling – he hoped that that interactions with her would become easier in the passing of time.
The weather was wildly different to that of midweek, as the English climate has habit of doing, with warm sunshine and a light breeze thick with the scent of garden flowers. Everyone took opportunity to dress like it was the depth of summer, when in fact June had only just arrived. Tammy prepped salad in the kitchen, whilst Jess stirred up a potent bowl of fruit punch. Chris was responsible for welcoming guests, which he resolved to do so with fake smiles and pleasantries. Inside he was churning – the pure thought of more time in Chloe’s company. Was it excitement, wanton desire or just contempt and disgust – he had no clue.
Chloe was the first to arrive and Chris ushered her in without a word. She met with Jess and Tammy in the kitchen and they exchanged hugs and conversation, punctuated with bursts of laughter. The doorbell then chimed again and Chris made for door – Jess and Chloe bustled past him desperate to get upstairs and change into their party clothes. The guests on the doorstep were Chloe’s parents, who we had never met face to face. Her mother was an elegant lady, with defined cheekbones and golden curls held fast with hairspray – he thought he detected a slight Scandinavian accent. Her father was much older than his trophy wife – he wore a permanent sneer and his choice of dress suggested he had a wardrobe full of tweed fabric at home. Whilst they were pleasant enough to talk to, Chris had no doubt from where Chloe had inherited her self-confidence and skewed morality.
More guests arrived: grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins and neighbours. The party began to flow. Jess and Chloe glided happily from group to group, handing out nibbles and drinks. They both looked very womanly in the 50’s style strapless dresses they had chosen to wear. Chris felt better now in his role as co-host, it gave him cause for distraction, which was welcome given the burden of this thoughts. Despite this, in the moments when he was sent back to the kitchen for more food, he found himself observing Chloe and Jess from afar – Chloe in particular. She looked stunning – a poignant reminder of the that fateful day when his innocent massage had resulted in him cumming in her fine little asshole. A vague plan, borne through lust, began to form in his mind.
Another hour passed before Chris saw an opportunity to put his plan into action. Tammy had asked for some more wine from the cellar because the guests had nearly drunk the party dry. The cellar was a level below their terraced Georgian townhouse, with crumbling steps that descended from the corner of the garden. Carrying boxes of wine unaided was asking for a sprained ankle.
“Chloe… would you mind giving me a hand with some of this wine,” he asked her, whilst flashing her his best smile.
“Umm… yeah… OK,” agreed Chloe, taken aback that he had even spoken to her today.
She followed him to the garden steps and kicked off her heels at the edge of the lawn. They then descended into the musty cellar.
Chris fumbled for the light; a solitary bulb that hung from the ceiling that provided dim illumination. The wine was piled up against the back wall on floor to ceiling shelves and Chris pointed Chloe in the direction of the Sauvignon Blanc, whilst he pretended to hunt for a suitable box of red. Instead he picked up a roll of thick parcel tape and peeled a strip back from the roll, which dispensed noisily in the modest cellar. Chloe was too engaged in her task to notice.
She turned to him, to check whether she had selected correctly, “Is this box OK, I can barely read it for all this dust?”
Before she realised where we was, he was upon her, clasping her wrists together and wrapping them in a layer after layer of tape. With her hands firmly bound he tore another a strip and held it over her mouth, muffling her alarmed protests. She kicked at him with her bare feet, but without her heels on it did little damage. He then grabbed her tightly on her upper arm and forced her down onto the wooden table at the centre of room, sending a cloud of dust into the air.
With his weight upon her she was unable to wriggle free and her faint pleas for help never made it past the thick stone walls that surrounded them. He leant over to whisper in her ear.
“Is this dangerous enough for you Chloe?” “… Don’t worry, we’re not going to get caught”, he echoed her words back to her from their previous meeting. Chloe was unable to answer verbally, so she just nodded her head frantically in between urgent breaths.
“I am not going to hurt you, I am just going to make you feel how I’ve felt these past few months… dominated and belittled.” He continued his speech, “I am going to take you, roughly. I am going to fuck you in that sweet pussy until you beg me to stop and you’re going to enjoy it, OK?” She stared at him wide-eyed and fearful. “OK?” he repeated, more softly this time. Although he had such for distain for her, he also couldn’t bring himself to defile her without her consent. He removed the tape from one side of her mouth so she could answer.
“Just do it then… and be quick,” she spluttered at him, a tear rolling down her cheek. Chris just wanted to scare her a little and it seemed like it was having the desired effect.
Mindful that a garden full of guests were a little less than 20 metres away, he proceeded quickly. He pressed her into the table with one strong arm and used the other to undo his belt and pull down his jeans. She was already in a perfectly accessible position, her puffy skirt splayed open like the petals of a flower, her toned rump at the centre. He noticed that her underwear was much more demure than normal – they were familiar looking cotton panties, embroidered with rosebuds – not the usual skimpy pieces of lace she preferred. Without further hesitation he tore them clean off her and cast them onto table in front of him.
Both of them were already aroused, although Chris spat of wad of saliva between her asscheeks, which as it trickled downwards served to lubricate her entrance further.
They had shared many guilty pleasures already but this was the one that Chris had longed for most – his gently arching shaft probing her most intimate area. He guided himself inside of her, penetrating her delicate pussy lips that reminded him of a pair of butterfly wings.He started slowly and deliberately, forcing her to take in his full length, before increasing his pace, pounding relentlessly into her, as she let out a stifled whimper. The old table began to creak violently with every thrust.
He could not discern whether Chloe was enjoying it or not, but she seemed accepting of her fate. Her head was on side, whilst her eyes stared blankly at the wall. But as he plunged deeper inside of her she winced or held her mouth open to take in a sharp breath. Her pretty slit was soaked with her juices. Chris felt his balls tighten in anticipation of his own orgasm and so he kicked her ankles to increase the gap between her legs. She moaned deeply as from his new position his thrusting cock applied pressure to the wall of her vagina. He squeezed tightly on her asscheek turning her skin white under the power of his fingertips.
His carnal need was to fill her glistening cunt full of his sperm, but he figured that to take that liberty would be crossing the line. Instead he grabbed at the torn panties on the table and withdrew his cock with moments to spare, as he filled the delicate strip of cotton with pulses of sticky spunk.
He had released the grip that pinned her to the table and she began to rise, sensing her ordeal was over. But a new sensation took hold of her as she realised that he was now between her legs, his tongue gathering up the moistness that still consumed her. She wanted to stamp hard into his groin, but her own urgent pleasure took hold and instead she thrust her pelvis forward, clamping his head between her and the table. His tongue ravished her, massaging her clit completely and bringing her to a pulsating orgasm that racked her body and gushed new liquids across his face.
They didn’t look or speak to each other in the eye again. After he unbound her wrists they dusted themselves down – then he mopped at his brow and face with a nearby rag. Gathering two boxes of wine he kicked open the cellar door and strode back into the bright sunlight towards the oblivious party guests. Chloe composed herself and on noticing the rags Chris had left on the floor, devised a plan of her own.
Two weeks had passed since the girls had left for Thailand and the house felt distinctly lifeless without them. The emotional turmoil caused by his encounters with Chloe weighed heavy on him and he had stopped exercising and turned to drink. He knew she had wronged him, but he had wronged her too and this could never make it right.
One morning, after returning from a walk, he entered the kitchen to find Tammy fixing him in her gaze, her eyes were red with tears.
“What’s wrong darling?” he asked, full of concern.
“A parcel came… for me. I didn’t understand it… but you better be able to fucking explain it!”
Chris looked down at the counter and went instantly pale, for there lay a small bundle of cotton, embroidered with roses but set hard with what he knew to be his semen. A brief note accompanied it, scrawled on the notepaper from a Thai hotel. It read:
*Thanks for all we shared x*
Chris remained silent, which only prompted Tammy to blub uncontrollably.
“You do know who these belong to, don’t you?” she said, aiming a finger at the crumpled underwear.
Of course Chris recognised them from the cellar. *Surely Tammy doesn’t know though…*
Before he could complete his thought, his traumatised wife spoke again.
“They belong to our daughter Chris…”
THE END
***{Hopefully that brings the story to a satisfactory conclusion, and you don’t mind Chloe having the last laugh! It was a lot of fun to write and I tried to make it as real as possible. If you have any suggestions on how this story could continue, feel free to leave a comment}***
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/epiwio/he_mistook_her_for_a_shy_girl_final_part_4_the
Oh my … that is absolutely gorgeous ?