With great relief, I finally walked into my large and well-appointed hotel room with stunning views of the city. It should have been a pleasure.

I had been travelling since the early hours, but my feet ached in my heels and I had the start of a lingering headache. This was not my deal; it had originated in our western office, but the agent had been taken ill and my name had come up as a substitute.

I was, to put it mildly, feeling a little pissed off. I should have been feeling pleased to have been nominated to close such an important deal but my daughter was due home from university that day, and instead of being home to greet her I was here, hundreds of miles away in a strange city.

I had eaten on the train. Coq au vin, or so they said, and it was strangely bland and somewhat rubbery, but I guess it served its purpose. Anyway, I could focus on kicking back and relaxing rather than sitting alone in a hotel restaurant.

Stepping out of my heels, I started to unzip my skirt as I headed for the bathroom.

The bath was a decent size, and I turned the water on and waited until the steam had started to build before adding a generous squeeze of foaming bath essence.

Slipping out of my skirt, I tossed it onto the bed before throwing my blouse and undies toward the wardrobe.

I tugged the hygiene seal from the toilet and sat to release a long and satisfying stream into the water below. It was a basic need of nature but after a long journey, a real source of pleasure.

Checking the bath, I found the water to be a little on the hot side, so I added a little extra cold water before slipping into the sea of fragrant bubbles.

The vanilla essence calmed my senses, the warmth relaxing my muscles, and I felt the tension lifting from my body like a cloud.

Closing my eyes, I listened to the silence around me. After the hustle and bustle of the train from London, the quiet hum of the extractor fan was almost soothing.

I stayed like that, cocooned in my warm fragrant sanctuary until the water started to chill prompting me to pull the plug.

Standing, I turned on the shower to rinse my hair.

Away from the warm water, my nipples immediately perked up in the cooler air and I cupped my full 34Cs letting my fingers tease my puffy brown tips.

Rinsing my long dark hair, I paused to admire my body in the mirror opposite. I was thirty-six years of age and with a grown daughter, but I knew my figure was still good with toned, muscular legs, flat stomach and not too much droop in the breasts. Proudly, I cupped them once again.

So why had Roger, my poor fucking excuse for a husband left me for some skanky twenty-something girl from the nearby housing estate?

Ignoring these thoughts, I rinsed out a face flannel and wiped away my makeup and then, without warning, the warm cloth made its way between my legs.

I’d never withheld sex from Roger, indeed sex with a good hard fucking was one of my favourite pleasures.

The roughish texture of the cloth felt so good against my pussy. I rubbed and teased my lips, feeling my arousal build.

The warm water was still cascading over me as my fingers went to work. One hand teased my nipples whilst the other explored my now slick pussy, opening myself up and spreading my juices as my need to cum intensified.

Roger’s leaving had killed my libido, but the show must go on as they say, and I was open for business again it seemed.

Gently rubbing that cloth against my clit triggered an almighty orgasm.

Crying out in pleasure as my legs buckled, I slowly slid down the tiled wall, my body surrendering to its much-needed release.

ooOOoo

After a double gin and tonic from the minibar, I wrapped myself up in a large fluffy white gown and lay down on the rather comfy double bed.

I checked my phone for messages expecting to hear from Robyn that she had arrived home.

There was nothing, but I then remembered my new video doorbell and hastened to open the monitoring app on my laptop.

I saw the postman, a charity collector, the local neighbourhood busybody with yet another circular she thought we should all read, and finally there was Robyn’s car swinging into our drive, too fast as usual.

I watched as my beautiful, lanky, blonde daughter stepped out of her vintage Citroen 2CV.

Where her bright blue eyes and silky blonde hair come from I haven’t a clue but she’s now the sole highpoint of a piss-poor marriage and I love her dearly.

I had not had a chance to tell her about the doorbell or the little wi-fi cameras that cover the inside of the house. With a toggle of a switch, I could turn the intercom feature on, and with a sudden urge for mischief, I switched to the indoor cameras.

The joke was truly on me. I didn’t see my blonde princess but there, draped over the chestnut leather vintage club chair that once graced my father’s Whitehall office, was a dark willowy girl. A totally naked, dark willowy girl.

Her long dark hair grazed the tops of her full, pale breasts. Her long legs were parted wide with a foot hooked over each arm of the chair.

She was smiling and I could see her mouth moving but the sound was off.

I turned the sound on, careful to not open my mic.

“I’m all yours darling,” she purred as her hands began to move in her lap as she rubbed her pussy.

She wasn’t just masturbating for her own pleasure, but provocatively pleasuring herself as a come-on to someone else.

I half expected to see Roger despite having changed the locks and fitted the cameras.

“I’m yours, however you want me,” the temptress coaxed, bucking her hips, and offering her sex to her invisible lover. I had a vivid mental image of her cum coating the butter-soft chestnut leather.

I didn’t hear the response but clearly, she had. She blew a kiss and then turned to kneel, her full pale breasts rubbing against the leather chairback as her pert arse took centre-stage in this perverted cameo.

The temptress arched her back with both her slick holes clearly on offer.

The manufacturer said that the cameras were HD and would show every detail, but I doubt they had envisaged this scenario.

Finally, the invisible lover stepped into the frame. It wasn’t Roger, it was Robyn.

My breath caught at the sight of her - the awkward lanky way she moved, and the small bud-like breasts, still little more than puffy nipples against her chest.

I’d not seen her naked since school and never knew that she was shaven smooth or that she had a tattoo of a butterfly at the small of her back.

My darling strode forward with purpose before kneeling to kiss that bare arse.

Time stood still as I watched my little girl lick and kiss her lover’s most intimate areas.

Her lover gripped the chair and pushed back against Robyn.

The laptop filled my hotel room with her groans and moans of pleasure. Unbidden, my pussy flooded in response and suddenly I was shedding my robe.

My fingers were deep inside my now sopping pussy as the realisation hit home.

I was spying on my daughter and her lover and I should have stopped and turned it off, but I couldn’t. My eyes were fixed on the screen as deeply as my fingers were glued to my pussy.

My mental turmoil increased as Robyn stood and stepped into a black leather harness.

My finger hovered over the off switch as she tightened the straps, a long pink dildo now firmly wedded to her cunt.

I watched spellbound as my daughter took her lover.

I watched as she stepped forward, her hands moving to caress the dark girl’s pale cheeks.

I watched as my daughter’s fingers slipped into the wet folds of another woman eliciting another torrent of moans and groans from the girl.

I watched as my little angel pushed her strap-on deep into the other woman.

Whatever guilt I would feel later, I was committed to watching the show before me.

I had never watched women fuck before and never witnessed the pleasure one woman can give to another.

My mind was blown away.

Suddenly, the temptress became rigid in the chair as she screamed in her release.

I realised how close my own orgasm was and how turned-on I had become.

It was Robyn’s turn next. Her lover’s orgasm had taken her over the edge and with her head back, Robyn drove the dildo home one last time as her body let go.

My daughter’s animalistic cries were too much for me, so I pulled my fingers from my sopping sex and slapped my clit.

The wet flesh stung in that millisecond before pleasure swept me away. I buried my face in my pillow to muffle my screams as wave after wave of pleasure shook my body.

When I lifted my head from the pillow, the girls had gone, leaving my lounge empty. I logged out of the app and headed for the bathroom to clean up.

ooOOoo

I was back on the bed with another gin when my mobile rang.

“Hi mum, it’s Robyn. I’m home and I’ve brought a friend with me. There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Hi darling, there’s something I need to tell you, too,” I replied.