A girl knows when she's been watched. There's that tingling sensation of eyes falling upon oneself. Sometimes, they avert their eyes, looking away. Sometimes, they hold your stare, forcing you to look away, embarrassed.

Sometimes, the smile behind the stare is soft and compelling. Sometimes, it's sharp and creepy. It makes a girl wonder and makes her feel nervous and afraid. Sometimes, the stare is so hard you can feel it, almost like a caress on your skin.

Lia instantly felt that, and her skin broke into goosebumps as the man smiled at her. The intensity in his gaze and his eyes dropped to her breasts for a fraction of a second before rising again, that smile not wavering.

It had been happening to her more often lately, or maybe she had just started noticing more lately. Boys. Men. Staring. Watching. Since she had discovered the pleasure of sex.

Lia had never believed herself attractive enough. She was short, scrawny, and didn't have much of a figure. Sure, her face wasn't that bad. But that had changed in the past few months.

Lia was at a friend's house that day after school. The hot summer weather meant they were all wearing shorts, skirts, and thin blouses to escape the heat as best they could.

She tried to focus on what her friends were discussing, but her attention kept escaping to the man staring at her. His eyes were focused on her face, holding a deep, hungry intensity in them. Lia swallowed nervously. The intensity of the man's eyes had a heat pooling between her legs.

He was the dad of one of her friends. Although they had known each other for years, this was the first time she noticed the man look at her like that. He wasn't too old, either—maybe a year older than Lia's parents.

The man was not really handsome or even beautiful to Lia. He was tall and burly, with a pot belly, huge mustache, and plain face—not the type of guy Lia usually wanted. But the way his eyes looked at her, the heat behind his stare, made Lia feel uncomfortable, embarrassed and aroused.

It made Lia wish she wasn't wearing such a flimsy, light top or shorts that revealed so much of her thighs.

"... let's go up and watch a movie," one of her friends finally offered.

The three friends cheered at the idea. They loved hanging out at her house and watching movies. Lia smiled, happy to have the opportunity to distract her mind.

"Let me go to the toilet first," Lia said, excusing herself from the living room.

As she went to the toilet, she could not help but glance at her friend's father, still sitting in his recliner and drinking a can of beer. He had stopped staring at Lia, his eyes watching the TV. Lia breathed out in relief, her legs unconsciously walking faster.

He wasn't looking at her. He had stopped watching her. She felt relief, but there was also an odd twinge of disappointment. Why did she feel disappointed? Did she want him to stare at her?

The bathroom of her friend was small. It had a single shower cubicle and a separate toilet room. Lia closed and locked the door.

As she pulled down her underwear to her ankles, sitting down to do her business, she could not help but glance at the mirror in the corner of the toilet seeing her reflection. She could still see the heat in his eyes, staring at her. She knew they had been looking at her. Her breasts, her ass, her thighs. The wetness in between her thighs.

The wetness. Lia was so wet. So, so moist. Lia did not understand how he made her so aroused with a single stare. She could see the wetness in her underwear before pulling them up.

When Lia got up from the toilet seat, she stood looking into her own eyes through the mirror. Her cheeks were flushed. Lia closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to get the arousal from her mind.

She left the bathroom and was so focused on checking the living room that she practically crashed against him when turning the corner toward the stairs. Lia recoiled back, too surprised by the collision to react or steady herself. The man's arms gripped her wrist like a vice, not letting her fall.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" she cried, flustered.

But the man only held her tightly and looked into her eyes intently. Something in his eyes and his face told her the impact was no accident, that the grip on her wrist was not accidental. This was an opening, an invitation, perhaps. He pulled her closer. One of his hands fell on her hips, pulling them to his.

"Are you ok?" he said.

His voice had a gruffness, a huskiness that seemed to fill the air, pouring straight into her ear. His eyes fell to her lips. His breath tickled her face. It smelled of alcohol.

Lia swallowed nervously.

"Yes," she said with a meek, sheepish voice. She lowered her head. "I'm fine."

But his hands still held her close, gripping tightly. There was a firm weight on her hips that refused to budge. His eyes had yet to fall from her face, and he stared intently into her eyes.

"Good," he said softly, yet... somehow, sincerely.

His hand released its grip on her hips and caressed her gently. Gliding a trail upward, snaking its way to the side of her breast. He moved his body forward as he did, pinning her against the hallway wall. With his body pressing against her own, his free hand cupping her breasts, the stiffness in his pants was evident.

Lia breathed in sharply. His touch seemed to sear the light summer clothes upon her skin. She held her breath; she didn't understand why. Why the heaviness between her legs? Why didn't she fight?

His hand groping her breast squeezed firmly. He kneaded and massaged, feeling the firmness of her boob beneath her blouse. Lia kept her eyes shut, almost fearful of the gaze upon her.

"How do you like this? You like a good fondle, huh?" he chuckled.

She gulped. Uncertain how to reply. His chuckle made her cheeks redden. She made no move to stop him, not knowing if she should. If she wanted to.

His hold released on her shoulder, sliding its way down the side of her body. She felt her blood pound against the walls of her arteries as she felt his calloused fingers trace her sides, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their path. He stopped just beneath her breast, resting a hand on her hips.

Lia felt oddly relieved. She wasn't sure if she could handle the heat and intensity of his hold on her breasts. Her relief did not last long. He slid his hands lower, tracing the crook of her thighs, the silky smoothness of her inner thighs.

"Open your eyes," he grunted.

Lia reluctantly opened her eyes. The nervousness tingled in her nose as her eyes made contact with his hungry gaze, so feral and intense. He cupped her clothed mound, sneaking his fingers beneath her skirt and pressing her wet underwear to her sensitive pussy.

Her legs nearly buckled at his touch.

He licked his lips, breathing hard and ragged, the stiffness in his pants more pronounced than ever.

Lia had to resist the urge to grind her hips against the man's fingers, so hot and harrowing on her mound, teasing her.

She felt a familiar stirring of arousal inside her, the heat from the man's touch seeping through her clothes.

"You are so wet. I can feel you throb on my fingers, baby," he said, the words causing Lia's cheeks to redden and the tingles in her nose to intensify.

She had no idea what she was doing. Why was she letting this stranger, her friend's father, do this to her?

"I'm sorry...," Lia mumbled. She couldn't seem to say anything but an apology.

He shushed her, his finger pulling the fabric aside and softly parting her pussy lips. Lia felt the wetness drip between her legs, coating the man's fingers, which now drew small circles on the inside of her wet folds.

"No need to apologize, sweetheart," he said with a low chuckle, the sound sending chills down her spine. "Does it feel good? That's all you have to worry about. How good you're feeling right now."

Lia gasped, feeling the tip of the man's finger dip inside of her.

The sound of a door opening on the second floor and girly laughs made them jump. Lia bolted up the stairs. Trying to calm her wobbly legs and ragged breath.

"Oh, Lia. I was about to find you. You took your sweet time," her friend said, frowning.

"Yeah... I'm sorry," she answered, still flustered. "I had a hard time going."

Her friend laughed and rolled her eyes, pulling Lia to the room where her other friends were waiting.

"What are we watching?" Lia asked as she sat on the bed.

"Some horror movie my brother wanted to see. It's not that bad."

Lia nodded, not paying attention to the answer. Her mind kept drifting to what happened downstairs. She knew they were not finished. She had no idea how it would end or when, but she knew she'd see the man again.