Brad’s Nosy Dad

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I suppose it’s a sign of the times, as well as a testimony to my advancing age, but as the divorced father of a 19 year old boy, I’m constantly amazed at the things these kids send each other through their e-mail. These guys tell girls to send pictures of themselves in various stages of undress, or even stark naked, and these girls actually do it!

The reason I know this is because I monitor my son Brad’s e-mail, as well as everything he does on the computer at home. If he wasn’t getting a free ride living at home with me while plodding through college, it would be a different story, but the way I look at it, it’s my house, I bought the computer and supply the juice and he’s aware that there’s no such thing as privacy on a family computer.

Besides, a guy who’s on the far side of 50 and busts his ass so much that a social life is nearly impossible deserves a little entertainment, and looking at these pictures that girls send him gets my juices flowing. Oh, to be 19 again and in this era.

Anyway, Brad was visiting his mother on one of “her” weekends with him, so on Friday night after a couple of cocktails I got into Brad’s computer in hopes of finding something interesting to look at.

There’s plenty of porn sites that I could look at, but for me I find pictures of “real” girls much more interesting. The sight of some fresh-faced college freshman half naked is a lot more erotic to me than seeing some bored looking actress stripping for the millionth time.

Brad didn’t disappoint, as I ran into some very stimulating conversation he had with a chubby redhead with enormous breasts. Brad would ask her to pose a certain way and the girl did it. Playing with her own tits, sucking on her own nipples – you name it.

Brad would then share these photos with his cyber buddies, and everybody would make their crude comments. I felt a little sorry for the girl, and wondered whether “Karen from the east side” knew that the private images she sent my son were probably all over the school.

When I moved on to another thread, I immediately froze when I saw the image on the screen. I knew this girl from somewhere. As I stared at the picture of the nervous looking girl I tried to think of how I knew her. Then it hit me.

The picture on Gino Parelli’s desk at work. This was the same girl. Gino was my partner in our accounting firm and this girl was his daughter. I had met her at a couple of picnics and things, and as I struggled to remember her first name I felt a wave of guilt. This wasn’t right.

The first picture was just a head shot, so that was no big deal, but I saw that there were several more messages exchanged between Brad and my partner’s daughter. Brad could get in trouble with this, because this girl was very young.

The more I thought about it, it came to me that my partner’s daughter was only a year younger than Brad. Funny how I still think of Brad as a kid even though he’s approaching 20. Maybe it’s because of the way he acts sometimes, but it’s tough to look at him as a man.

Marianna! That was her name, and as I stared at her image I was torn between continuing or just logging out. It wasn’t like Marianna was an attractive girl, I thought to myself. Looked a lot like Gino with the olive skin, big nose and the wavy jet black hair.

That wasn’t nice, I told myself. I was acting like my son, berating the girl because she wasn’t very attractive. Perhaps it was the drinks, but in the end I went to the next message.

Show me your tits. That was what my son asked of Marianna next. She was reluctant to do that, and I applauded her for that, but when Brad became insistent and threatened to end the conversations, Marianna complied.

Brad and his friends had a real hoot over the picture that poor little Marianna sent to my son, and although I cringed at their nasty remarks as the photo had circulated around their group, I was enthralled by her image.

The photo of Marianna was so sweet and innocent looking, especially compared to the crude and graphic ones other girls had sent, and while Marianna was certainly not what a teen guy in the year 2010 found attractive, her look worked for this child of the 70’s, as my cock got hard immediately.

In the picture Marianna was wearing a plain white nightie and had pulled it up to her neck, exposing her breasts. Her titties were small but jutted straight out, with big puffy nipples that dominated the modest cones. What perfect little hand-fulls – or maybe mouthfulls they were, and although Brad and his buddies derided their size, I thought they were perfect.

My son and his cronies saved their most pointed barbs for Marianna’s other noticeable feature, and I was glad for her sake that she had kept her panties on. The very modestly cut undies were unable to contain what had to be a magnificent bush, as the jet black hairs were peeking out of the elastic of the panties leg holes.

In addition, their was a thin but definitely noticeable treasure trail that wound from the top of her panties to the underside of her pert little belly button. What my son and his circle said casino siteleri made her look like an ape-girl along with other derogatory comments, I found exciting.

Too bad her armpits were shaved, I noted as my eyes went to her upraised arms, although the dense 5 o’clock shadow that covered the deep recesses under her arms also got critiqued by Brad. Also coming in for abuse was the fine downy hair that grew on the girl’s forearms, which looked so soft that I longed to be able to run my fingers up and down her slender limbs.

What would my son have said if he could have seen his mother back when she was Marianna’s age, I wondered, walking around bra-less with her unshaven armpits back in her college days? As I thought back to those happier times, I suddenly realized that my hand was inside the fly of my pajamas, and I had been slowly stroking my swollen member as I stared at Marianna.

I got up and went to the kitchen, disgusted at myself for what I had been doing as well as being disappointed in my son for being so shallow about the other sex. Apparently he found the silicone enhanced and waxed women of the 21st century as appealing as I found them appalling.

I was going to go back to the computer and delete the photo, but decided to make another drink, and by the time I made it back to the computer I had changed my mind. The picture kept haunting me, and when I sat down and looked at it again it was with a sock slipped over my cock.

I came, and came hard, enjoying a powerful orgasm that made me dizzy as I filled the cotton sleeve with what seemed like an absurd amount of semen, and as my cock went limp the shame washed over me much like the orgasm had.

A chime indicating incoming mail roused me from my guilt trip, and when I checked to see what had arrived I saw that it was a message from Marianna to Brad. It was a brief e-mail, asking if he got her picture because she hadn’t heard from him since she sent it, and because she never sent anything like that before she wasn’t sure if she did it right.

“I got it, and you’re beautiful.”

I don’t know what got into me, first typing that and then actually sending it to the poor girl, but once it was on the way, there was no turning back.

“You’re sweet,” came Marianna’s reply a couple of minutes later. “I’m not beautiful though. I know that. Want to IM?”

I scrambled around to find Brad’s password and got connected with Marianna in a matter of minutes.

“Just before you e-mailed me, I was looking at your picture and you made me so hot that I got myself off.”

After I sent these messages, I went back and eliminated the evidence while waiting for Marianna’s reply.

“OMG!” Marianna gushed. “Really? I wish I could have seen that. You said that you were going to send me a picture of your stuff. If you do, maybe I will do that too *blush*”

“I have a better idea,” I responded. “Why don’t you come over and you can look at it in person. I’m all alone in this great big house all weekend.”

As I corresponded with this sweet young thing, I could feel sweat rolling down my spine. Clearly, I was way out of line here, but I was so turned on that I feel powerless to stop.

“Can’t tonight. My parents won’t let me out this late.”

“Too bad.” I replied

“How about tomorrow night?” Marianna replied. “I can tell my folks that I’m going to sleep over at Kim’s house.”

“Great,” I found myself writing back.

“OMG! I can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“That picture. Too bad you kept your panties on. Looks like you’ve got a lot of hair down there.”

Did I really just type that? Too late now.

“UGH!” Marianna replied. “I’ll trim it before tomorrow night.”

“NO!” I practically screamed, both vocally and electronically. “Don’t you dare!”

“You like that?” Marianna asked. “I thought that turned guys off.”

“Not this guy.”

“I mean, like I’m really uh… hairy.”

“I know. I could tell. I want you just the way you are.”

“Um… I gotta tell you something. Promise not to laugh?”


“I’m a virgin.”

A chill went through my body as I read those words, and my hands were trembling when I replied.

“Doesn’t seem possible. Somebody that looks as sweet and hot as you. How old are you?”

“I told you before that I was 18. Besides, I know I’m not hot.”

“Sorry. I forgot. Can’t believe you’ve never done it before. You have done stuff with guys though, right?”

“Well yeah, like you know – stuff, but never that.”

“I’d love to be your first.”

“Me too. When you talked to me on the phone that day I like melted. Um, do you have a big one?”


“Your dick. Do you have a big one? Kim told me that if you do it your first time with a guy that has a big one, it hurts.”

“I would never hurt you.”

“I know, but I’m just curious. Getting excited I guess. Did you really – you know – at my picture?”

“Yes. Does that bother you?”

“No. Kinda makes me feel good in a way. Don’t think anybody ever did that when they thought about me.”

“You’d slot oyna be surprised. Matter of fact, I might have to do it again before I go to bed. Can’t fall asleep like this.”

“Is your dick getting hard again?”


“Why won’t you send me a picture of it now?”

“Can’t right now. You’ll see it soon enough.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed if you’ve got a little one. I don’t care about junk like that.”

“No, I’m not small,” I assured Marianna as I looked down at my cock which was erect at pointing up at me through the open fly of my pajamas. “It’s about eight inches or so. Maybe nine.”

“No way.”

“I thought you said you did stuff with guys before, didn’t you?”

“I have.”

“Tell you what. Google the name Ron Jeremy and take a look at his stuff.”

“Gotta lock my bedroom door first.”

My wife used to say that my cock looked a lot like that pudgy porn star back in the day when we used to watch dirty movies in the VCR, and as I waited for Marianna to get back online, I tried to imagine what was going on in her head.

“OMG! Please tell me you’re kidding,” was Marianna’s response.

“Well, I’m not circumcised, but except for that – you aren’t scared, are you?”

“Um, I gotta go.”

“You are scared, aren’t you? Either that or – are you doing something naughty?”


“Will I see you tomorrow night?”


“You know where I live?”

“Of course. Remember I told you how I ride my bike past your house all the time?”

“Oh yeah. Tomorrow night then?”

“Yes. Night.”

I didn’t need to go back to Marianna’s picture, because I had my own image of what was going on in her bedroom. In my mind, Marianna had that nightie hiked up again, only her panties were off now, and she was sitting at the computer.

Marianna was looking at some picture of Ron Jeremy from the Internet, and her fingers were busy inside of her delightfully hairy pussy while she stared at the cock she thought was attached to my 19 year old son. Maybe she was cumming just like I was, I imagined, while I tried to contain the mess to my pajamas as I came.

I erased the evidence of all of my conversations with Marianna, and as I peeled off my gooey clothes and took a shower, I thought about what I had just done.

Marianna was going to come over tomorrow night, and instead of finding my surfer-dude looking son with the long light brown hair waiting for her, she was going to see his 54 year old father, and while my 6’1″ and 190 pound body was in decent enough shape, my bald head would make it clear that I was not Brad even if she didn’t already know what he looked like.

I knew what I was going to do. I was going to play the caring parent to another man’s daughter, explain to Marianna why it wasn’t a good idea to send pictures of yourself like that, and sort of give her the old “scared straight” treatment.

She would probably be upset, but in the end she would be grateful that I was caring enough to try to protect her like that, even though inside I would give anything to spend the night with such a sweet young thing.


I was watching when Marianna came up the driveway, straightening her hair and looking up at the house nervously as she got closer, while I hid behind the blinds. I had left the inside door open, and when I heard the timid tapping on the screen door, I did an imitation of my son’s voice.

“It’s open,” I warbled as I waited out of sight in the kitchen upstairs, around the corner from the landing, as the door creaked as it opened.

“Brad?” I heard her say, her nerves obvious in her voice.

“C’mon up,”

I felt creepy at this point, luring the poor girl here just to show her how dangerous it could be to send stuff on the computer, but I really had no bad intentions at the time.

“Mr. Benson?” Marianna said as she saw me standing by the sink, the shock evident as she stopped abruptly by the kitchen table.

I was surprised that she remembered me, because we had only met a couple of times, and I had hoped she hadn’t, but it was too late now.

“Hello Marianna.”

“Uh… um… I was looking for Brad,” she said.

“I know, honey,” I said.

I briefly explained to Marianna what I had done, and watching the poor girl slowly meltdown before my eyes was as painful for me as it was for her. Marianna had come here expecting to be with this guy that she had a crush on, and instead there I was trying to be a father to somebody else’s kid.

Marianna had gone all out to impress my absent son. Her short black hair looked like she just had it done professionally, and she was wearing a sharp light blue blouse and shorts outfit that she looked nice in. Her bare arms were very slender, as were her legs, so maybe she should have covered them up a little, but all in all she wasn’t nearly as plain as I had remembered her to be.

“I’m sorry,” I said, coming over to put my arm around her to comfort her. “Look, we’ll go to the computer and get rid of the pictures.”

I took Marianna down the hall to canlı casino siteleri the computer room, ushering her inside and pulling up another chair for her to sit in. Logging on, the sniffles coming from Marianna tore me up, and then when I brought up the correspondence and her face appeared on the screen as big as life, she let out a gasp.

“Omigod,” Marianna said, cringing at the head shot.

“There,” I said, and with a few clicks the photo disappeared.

The problem was that after that disappeared, the revealing photo popped right up, and if that wasn’t bad enough, she could see the comments Brad and her buddies had made.

“No,” Marianna said, and first I think she was going to slap the keyboard or do something to make the picture go away, but then I saw her reading the insults.

“They’re right,” Marianna sobbed. “I am gross.”

“Nonsense,” I said. “You’re a very attractive young lady.

I held Marianna’s hand, her moist little fingers clutching me hard as she cringed while looking at the picture.

“Look at me,” Marianna said.

“I did,” I heard myself saying. “Remember last night?”

Marianna was confused, having forgotten the part about our conversation, and as the girl blushed even more I let my hand caress her forearm gently, the downy hair there feeling a soft as a cloud.

“I forgot that was you,” she said. “Please don’t tell my father.”

“Of course not,” I said. “This will be our little secret. Some of those things I wrote – well, let’s just say that I’m not too proud of myself.”

“I know you were just trying to be nice,” Marianna said, still staring at the image on the screen of herself with her nightie pulled up.

“Oh no, Marianna,” I said quickly – too quickly because what I was saying should have never come out of my mouth. “Everything I said was the truth. Everything I said – and said I did, was true.”

Her face illuminated by the light of the screen, she kept staring at herself, and then I scrolled down to the conversation we had shared. her lips were moving a little bit as she read along, and I found my hand reaching up to gently stroke the faint down that grew around her ear.

“Really?” she said quietly as she got to the part where I had told her what I did while looking at her picture. “You really did that?”

“Yes,” I said, mortified. “But I just what you to know that you shouldn’t send stuff like this to other people, because you don’t know who’s seeing it. Besides, you’re far too pretty to have to resort to things like that.”

Marianna forced a weak smile as I eliminated the picture from my son’s files, and when I turned back to her she was wiping the tears from her cheeks.

“Now you won’t be able to – you know,” Marianna said. “Now that my picture is gone.”

“I sent it to myself,” I confessed. “Hope you don’t mind. It should be kept from goofy kids and enjoyed by someone more mature and that appreciates real beauty.”

“That guy?” Marianna said. “Jeremy?”

“Oh. Ron Jeremy?” I said, cringing myself.

“I saw an old picture of him.”

“Yeah, back in the day he wasn’t too bad looking, but like the rest of us, we don’t improve with age.”

Marianna was biting her lip, looking so sweet that it was all I could do to keep from kissing her, and then all of a sudden it was happening. We were leaning toward each other and then our lips met. It was a sweet and innocent kiss, and her cheeks were cool from the tears.

We leaned back from each other for a second and both gave a nervous laugh before Marianna leaned forward again, her eyes closed and waiting for me to lean forward myself. I did.

“Honey, this is wrong,” I said. “Believe me, if I was your age I’d give anything to be with you. Let me take you home.”

“Please don’t, Mr. Benson,” Marianna said, biting her lower lip and looking at me with eyes that were pleading. “Don’t make me go home. I want to stay. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this night.”

We kissed again, and this time it was a passionate kiss, with me running my fingers through her thick hair. My eyes were open, looking at the girl who was putting her heart and soul into kissing me – me, a horny old pervert who suddenly realized that this was what I wanted to happen all along.

I felt Marianna’s hand on my lap, searching and finding for me, and when her fingers seized the bulge her eyes popped wide open.

“Not here, honey,” I said when I felt Marianna trying to pull down my zipper, and with that I led the girl to my bedroom.


I followed Marianna into my bedroom and closed the door behind us, quietly locking the door in case Brad appeared unexpectedly. Standing behind Marianna, a head taller than the young lady who was staring at the bed in front of her, I was torn between the obvious choices.

“Are you sure?” I asked, standing behind Marianna and putting my hands on her slender shoulders, and while Marianna didn’t say a word, her nod gave me the answer.

I let my hands slide down from her shoulders slowly, shivering along with the young girl when my fingers began feathering their way through the downy hairs on her horearms. The hair was as soft as a cloud, billowing under my touch, and as my hands passed, goose bumps appeared on the skin below and the fine black hairs stood up at attention.

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