Between Four Walls

James Parker is unhappily married with a 19 year old daughter, one day his daughters friend drops by for some advice from her friend. When she finds her friends isn’t in, she bursts into tears and turns to Mr Parker instead for guidance.

The door opened, and Mr. Parker was surprised to find his daughter’s friend, Lucy, on the doorstep. She looked visibly upset, her face flushed, eyes red. Concerned, he leaned down slightly.
"Is Charlie in?" she asked, her voice wavering.
“No, she’s away this week; didn’t she mention it?” Mr. Parker said, watching as Lucy’s face crumbled. She suddenly burst into tears.
“Oh, hey, what’s this all about?” he said gently, his fatherly instincts kicking in. “Come on in.”
It wasn’t unfamiliar for Lucy to be in their house; she’d spent countless afternoons here, always welcome. Mr. Parker guided her to the living room, closing the door softly behind them. Lucy sank into the couch, still sniffing, as he fetched a glass of water and handed it to her.
“Here, take a few deep breaths,” he said softly, brushing a strand of her long blonde hair back from her face. Her eyes were still teary, but he could see they sparkled, even in distress.
After a few moments, her breathing steadied. “I’m sorry, Mr. Parker. I shouldn’t have come,” she murmured, avoiding his gaze.
“Nonsense,” he replied. “It sounds like something’s really bothering you. And if it can’t wait, then let me help—Charlie won’t be back for a week.”
She hesitated, glancing up at him, and then away again. “It’s… it’s girl talk,” she managed, cheeks flushing.
“Come on, it’ll stay just between us,” he said gently, trying to put her at ease. “Nothing leaves these four walls, okay?”
Lucy gave a slight nod, and he watched her gather her thoughts, her face pink with embarrassment. Finally, she spoke, barely above a whisper. “I’ve been seeing my boyfriend for three months… and I haven’t even kissed him yet. His birthday’s coming up, and he… he’s talking about us, you know… about losing his virginity.” Her voice broke a little as she finished.
Mr. Parker felt a twinge of anger at the boy’s presumptuousness. He took a deep breath, keeping his tone calm. “Lucy, no one should make you feel pressured. These things should only happen when both people feel ready.”
She nodded, looking down, still embarrassed. “I know, I just… I don’t even know how to kiss,” she admitted, her face growing redder. “And now he’s expecting… more.” She paused, swallowing hard, then glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for a brief moment. “Could you… show me? Just how to kiss. That’s all.”
The request caught him off guard. “Lucy, I don’t think that’s… well, I’m your friend’s dad. And I’m married, you know…”
She bit her lip. “You promised. And… you said you’d seen it all, right?”
He hesitated, his mind racing. The boundaries felt blurred, but the innocence in her request was clear.
She bit her lip. “You promised. And… you said you’d seen it all, right? You said nothing would leave these four walls.”
He hesitated, his mind racing as he considered her words. There was an undeniable trust between them, a bond he wanted to respect. The boundaries felt blurred, yet the innocence in her request was clear.

She wasn’t the only one unsure about kissing; it had been years since he’d kissed his wife, at least with real passion. As he drew back slightly, he spoke in a low whisper, his breathing a little uneven as he explained, "Using your tongue... it’s about feeling your way, moving with them."
Then, he leaned back in, his mouth exploring hers gently, giving her a sense of what he meant. “Now, you do the same,” he encouraged softly, and she responded, mirroring his movements, her lips and tongue tentative but eager. She was a natural, and her willingness made it all feel unexpectedly right.
“I’ve been thinking about how good this would feel,” she murmured, her words hanging in the air. For a brief moment, he wondered if she meant kissing her boyfriend, but the way she looked at him suggested something deeper.
She was wearing a fitted dress that clung to her young, slender curves, held up only by two delicate shoulder straps. Between kisses, she glanced down, fingers trailing over her shoulders. “Do you think I should do this next?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. With a small, almost mischievous smile, she slipped the straps down, letting the dress slide to the floor.
As she stood before him, her dress pooled at her feet, she glanced up, her eyes both eager and uncertain. “Is this… is this right?” she asked softly, almost as if seeking his approval. “I mean, do you think my boyfriend will like it if I do this?”
He swallowed, trying to steady himself, feeling the weight of her innocent curiosity. “You look lovely,” he replied, keeping his tone gentle, knowing the moment called for reassurance. “But you should only do what feels right to you, not because you think he’ll expect it.”
She took a deep breath, processing his words. “I know… but it’s all so new. I don’t want to mess it up.” She bit her lip, casting her gaze downward for a moment before lifting it again. “I think… I think you should show me everything. I know you’re not going to judge me, and you won’t tell anyone. Please, just teach me what I need to do.”
There was a long pause as her words settled between them, and he felt the tension rise, understanding the trust she placed in him. He nodded slowly. “Alright,” he said softly. “If it’ll help, I can show you what I know.” He was careful with his words, mindful of her vulnerability.
She stepped closer, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, her fingers soft and trembling slightly. “So… if I touch him here, like this,” she whispered, “will that feel nice for him? Or should I… move slower?”
“Slower is good,” he replied, his voice just above a whisper. “It’s about letting the moment build, moving with the other person.”
She seemed to absorb this, her hand lingering, her breath soft and steady. “I feel so silly, asking all this,” she admitted, her cheeks coloring. “But I trust you. Everything… everything we’re saying, it’ll stay between us, won’t it?”
“Of course,” he promised, his voice steady. “Nothing leaves these four walls.”
A small smile crossed her lips, and she took another gentle step closer. “Then… can you keep helping me? I need to know what I’m doing.”
As she began undoing his trousers, he took off his shirt, right there in the kitchen. By now, both of them understood that the idea of "being taught" was unnecessary. She certainly didn’t need to be taught anything, but they both kept up the pretense, as though any deviation from it might break the mood or spoil the fun. They kept up the playful tone, each staying in character. She would ask things like, “Do you think he would like this?” as she kneeled down to suck his cock, her voice filled with a blend of innocence and curiosity. He’d respond in kind, saying things like, “He’ll probably do this before anything else,” as he guided her back against the kitchen worktop and burying his face into her pussy, savoring the tension in the air and the way it made her gasp.
“I think you need to show me everything,” she said, her voice soft but steady. “I don’t want something to happen that I’m not ready for.” At her words, he hesitated no longer. He couldn’t believe what he was doing, and he couldn’t believe how good it felt stuffing his cock into her like this—he hadn’t felt this way in years, and even then, it had never felt this tight.
He started slowly, intending to show her how a man makes love, but the way she kept asking questions stirred him, each one fueling his adrenaline and making it harder to keep his pace.


“So after he has pumped me slowly like this” she would say, “do you think he might pump me harder?”
“Could you show me what that would feel like?” “Oh god that’s good, fuck me!” she shouted. He could hardly believe the words coming out of her pretty face, “That’s it fuck me Mr Parker, teach me what its all about!” “Show me what I’ve been missing. He could hardly hold his load and blurted out “I’m sorry I don’t know if your boyfriend will last longer but I can’t hold on”. And with that, he shot his load deep inside her.
Afterward, as reality set in, his mind raced, a flood of thoughts crashing in. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry about that. I shouldn’t have…” He stopped, struggling to find the right words, his face flushed with regret.
But she stood up confidently, pressing a finger against his lips. “Shhh,” she murmured softly, “nothing to be sorry about. I needed teaching, and you taught me well.” With a calm smile, she dressed almost as quickly as she’d undressed, slipping her shoes on before heading toward the door.
Still lost in thought, his mind full of doubts and second-guessing, he foolishly blurted out, “Good luck with your boyfriend.”
She turned at the door, smiled knowingly, and winked. “What boyfriend?”