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I had never thought of Amelia like that before. She was my friend’s kid; some teenager I saw a few times a year with her sisters and her mom at events like this.
But she had changed. Matured.
Amelia was a woman now, and a total knockout.
She was standing across a crowded room glowing like golden candlelight, and I realized just how attracted I was to her.
Twenty-one, smart, professional, with a body that looked like it was made for me. I couldn’t stop staring at the way her shapely hips sloped out from her slim waist. The way her tits looked like they would fill my large palms perfectly. The way her wavy brown hair tumbled down to her shoulders, her face dusted with freckles and tanned from the sun, and her green eyes that sparkled when she laughed.
I was a thirty-eight-year-old man. Seventeen years older than Amelia. I shouldn’t be noticing my friend’s daughter that way. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore, and when I first saw her that night, she stole my breath.
She was off-limits. Strictly out of bounds.
When I later found myself chatting with her, David had promptly joined the conversation and Amelia had thankfully hurried away before I could say anything stupid.
I had to go after her though because she might be in danger.
After Amelia ran off to the restroom and David went searching for his wife, I worried that Amelia had broken out in hives. Her cheeks and neck had been turning bright pink right in front of my eyes, and her father didn’t seem to notice.
David always ordered a lot of shellfish for these parties. You never know when you might come across a bad mussel.
All I wanted to do was check on her. Just to make sure it was nothing serious.
So, I followed her to the far end of the house, down a long hallway. About halfway toward the end, I realized Amelia was whimpering inside a nearby bathroom. I rushed up to the door, preparing to break it down if necessary in order to help her. But when I got close, I froze in my tracks.
She was whimpering, all right. But it wasn’t in distress.
She was whining. Moaning.
In pleasure.
I felt the blood rush away from my head, along with any last shred of coherent thought. Amelia was touching herself, pleasuring herself, on the other side of this door. And she sounded so fucking hot doing it.
I was insanely turned on, lost in the thought of her hand up under the gold fabric of her dress, fingering herself beneath it. That same dress that had been killing me all night.
Her voice went straight to my cock which was straining against my slacks. I didn’t dare touch myself for fear that I would lose control and come in my pants like a goddamn teenager.
I knew I should walk away but her whines came closer together, climbed higher in pitch–and then she said it.
My name.
Over and over again, between heavy, erratic, clipped breaths.
She was thinking of me as she climaxed.
Now I was hard as a rock. There was no way I could go back out to the party like this.
I had to get out of sight, fast.
I needed a barrier between me and whoever might come wandering down this hallway.
I needed privacy. Immediately.
In a panic, I opened the door and pushed into the tiny, dimly lit bathroom.
When I got inside, the sight of Amelia made my heart race. Her cheeks and neck were glowing pink from making herself come, and she quickly pulled her hand out from underneath her shimmery dress, fingers wet from her arousal. I stumbled back, accidentally knocking the door shut behind me.
She looked shocked, but her face changed in the seconds she inched toward me. The bathroom was impossibly small, and there was nowhere to move. I hadn’t thought this through. It had been a split-second decision to get into a private room, without thinking about the consequences of barging in on Amelia with my dick hard.
