Dear Journal,
I don't even know where to begin. I am a ball of emotions. Reading the letter from Jim had me shaking. How could he sleep with our daughters? How could our daughters be lovers for so long, and I had no idea? I knew they were close, but this? Is this why they lived together? Is this why they never seemed to date? Looking back, I guess this explained why the girls seemed eager to stay over every time I went away for work lately. I just thought that they wanted to bond with their father more. I could never have imagined this. Everything I believed about my family and life felt like a lie at that moment.
Jim and I had been married for thirty years at this point. We had met when we were freshmen in college and became fast friends. He was my safe person. Jim was my go-to person when I was stressed about school, argued with my roommates, or even had a date I needed advice about. We would talk about everything. I knew everything about him, even the embarrassing stuff, like when he broke his toe while having sex with Becky, his freshman-year girlfriend. I also shared everything with him, from the mundane things about my parents' divorce to my sexual curiosity and experimentation with some girls in my sorority. Nothing ever seemed to be off-limits when it came between us.
When we started dating our senior year of college, it shocked no one. Everyone, including our various boyfriends and girlfriends, always assumed there was something between us. I guess they saw something neither of us was willing to admit. Jim was, is, my soul mate. Hell, even after being together for so long, our relationship was still solid.
Despite work sending me on trips often, we always made time for each other. We went on dates weekly and had sex multiple times a week. Even while away, we found ways to be sexually active. Who knew masturbating together over Facetime could be so much fun! Thank the sex goddess for technology.
Nothing ever seemed to be off-limits for us to talk about, especially when it came to sex. A few years ago, I came across a video online where a woman was wearing various latex outfits. I was shocked by how much of a turn-on it was to me. When I told Jim about it, he said we should make my fantasy a reality, so we visited a local sex toy boutique that had a section devoted to "sex clothes."
My mind was blown by what I saw there that first time. Latex catsuits, dresses, halter tops, mini skirts, leggings, thigh-highs, gloves, masks, and collars were all on display. It was a bit overwhelming, but as soon as Jim whispered into my ear how turned on he was, I felt right at home. He handed me his credit card and told me to buy anything I liked. I came away with a whole new wardrobe.
Latex became a regular part of our lovemaking. It made me feel incredibly sexy. The tight, form-fitting clothes made me feel wanted and young again. It meant so much to me that Jim indulged me in my new fetish. He always made me feel so comfortable and never made me feel judged at all. I guess that is why him telling me that he has been sleeping with our daughters behind my back for the past few weeks was so upsetting.
By the time I got to the hotel and found the letter, it was already pretty late at night. I decided to go to bed and start fresh in the morning. I was worried I wouldn't fall asleep since I was a ball of energy, so I took a Klonopin before hitting the sack. I was exhausted from traveling all day, so between that and the anti-anxiety meds, I passed out fairly quickly.
My dreams that night were anything but ordinary. Maybe it was the meds, maybe it was my brain trying to make sense of the letter Jim wrote me, but the dreams I had were vivid and shocking.
My most vivid dream started with me coming home from my trip, only to find Morgan on the couch moaning with Miriam between her legs. Miriam was dressed in my new devil-red latex bodysuit with the zippered crotch.
"God, Miriam, you eat my pussy so good!" Morgan screamed with abandonment. "I can't get over how hot you look in Mom's latex. It turns me on so much. I can't believe Mom wears this stuff. I wonder if she is as big of a slut as we are. Ugh, keep going!"
"You like the idea of seeing Mom in latex, don't you? I bet you would make her your pussy slut like you've done to me. I bet she would look so hot. I know I would love for her to sit on my face in that latex catsuit we found in her closet." Miriam shot back at her sister.
It was one thing to see my daughters having sex; it was a whole other thing to hear them talk about me as a sexual plaything. Hearing them talk about me that way left me frozen in my tracks, yet incredibly turned on.
It was too much for me to take in. I knew I needed to sneak upstairs to my bedroom without being spotting me. I tried my best to make it to the stairwell, yet I couldn't help but stare at the fuck-fest that was happening before me. That was my downfall. Not looking where I was going, I bumped into a lamp near the staircase and almost knocked it over.
Miriam suddenly lifted her head from her sister's crotch and called out to me, "Welcome home, Mommy! You must be hungry from your trip home. Would you like a taste? She tastes terrific!"
Even in my dream, I was shocked by the audacity of my oldest daughter. What did she think I was, some sort of hussy? If I was being frank with myself, she was right. I did want a taste. I wanted to drop to my knees and take in every inch of Morgan's pussy. I wanted to unzip the crotch of my latex bodysuit and feel how wet Miriam was. I wanted to experience everything I could with them, yet at that moment, I knew I had to reject their advances.
"Don't talk to me like that!" I screamed at Miriam.
Miriam replied, "I don't think you mean that, Mommy. I think you can't keep your eyes off of us. I think you like seeing me dressed in your latex bodysuit. I look like the woman of your dreams."
Miriam got off the floor and took her sister's hand. "Let's show Mommy how sexy we think she is," Miriam said coyly as she and her sister walked towards me.
I shivered as my daughters approached me. I knew I shouldn't, but I wanted them to touch me. The moment I felt Miriam's hand on me, I let out a huge sigh. They both took it as a sign to unbutton my blouse.
Despite my brain screaming at me to tell them to stop, my body melted at their touch. Once my shirt was on the floor, Miriam and Morgan began to kiss my neck. Each kiss sent a tingle down my body straight to my pussy.
How could this be happening? I found myself thinking. Even while dreaming, I was deeply aware of the mixed feelings I was experiencing.
Suddenly, I became aware of Morgan fiddling with the clasps on my bra. I couldn't believe my youngest daughter was about to reveal my breasts for Miriam and her to see. With the clasps of my bra undone, Miriam gently pulled the bra straps off my shoulders. I shuddered as the cold air hit my nipples.
"Look at her, Morgan. Look at how beautiful Mommy is," Miriam whispered to her sister.
"I guess we know where we get our full chests from," Morgan laughed. "Let's find out if her nipples are as sensitive as ours."
Before I could say anything, I felt them both take a nipple in their mouth. The feeling was exquisite. It had been years since I made love to another woman, and I forgot how different the sensation of having a woman's lips on my body was.
The latex of Miriam's outfit rubbing my bare skin felt incredible. I instantly felt a flush of juices flood my pussy as soon as I felt her latex-covered body on mine. Without even thinking about it, I let out a loud moan.
"I think Mommy likes it," Miriam confidently said.
Her hands reached under my skirt as her sister continued to give my tits a good tongue massage. Miriam's hand got closer and closer to my thong-covered pussy. She teased my inner thigh, giving me goosebumps. I couldn't stand what she was doing to me. The power my daughters had over me was surprising.
I didn't think it could get better until Miriam suddenly pulled the crotch of my underwear aside. I gasped in anticipation, waiting for my oldest daughter to explore my wet slit for the first time. The feeling of her fingers on me was more than I could take.
I felt myself getting wetter as she fingered me. My legs started to buckle as she took her fingers out of me, and she made her way to my clit. I needed this. I needed to cum from my oldest daughter's touch. The anticipation in me built. Every second that passed felt like an eternity.
I begged my daughter, "Please, Miriam! I need this. Please stop teasing me. Rub my clit and make me cum like the slut mommy that I am!"
"As you wish, Mommy!" Miriam stated with pure joy in her voice, realizing that her mother was now her sex toy.
The moment her fingers touched my clit, a loud buzzing went off in my head.
The sudden sound of my alarm shook me back to reality. My pussy was aching, and I was even more confused than before going to bed. Why did I dream of being seduced by my daughters? What was my unconscious trying to tell me? I brushed off those thoughts, as I didn't have much time to get ready for my first meeting of the day. I jumped into the shower so I could get my day started.
The shower water was a rude awakening. I was jolted back to the reality of the situation. My husband has been having an affair with Morgan and Miriam, our daughters. He has been fucking them. They have been fucking each other. They used my own kink to seduce their father. These thoughts plagued me as I scrubbed my body, trying to wash away all these concerns.
As my hands wandered over my body, I noticed a familiar tingle. I pulled on my nipples and began to moan. My fingers soon found my smooth pussy, and I felt a tremor in my belly as I rubbed myself. I wanted to get off so badly at that moment, but the guilt of being turned on by my daughters was too much. I turned off the water, dried myself, and dressed for work.
The workday started like any other work trip. I met with my clients at their offices, exchanged pleasantries, and was escorted to the conference room, where I would spend my day. Sitting in meetings all day was excruciating. I couldn't concentrate if my life depended on it. It is hard enough to focus on the doldrums of monthly sales figures, inventory reports, and associates' horrible ideas on how to increase revenue under normal circumstances, but this day was anything but ordinary. Jim's confession and my dream left me a frazzled mess.
I tried to understand how this all could have happened. I mean, I get that Jim is still a good-looking guy. Hell, he is incredibly sexy, and he knows it too. He has told me plenty of stories of him being out at the local pub only to be hit on by women in their twenties and thirties who want to play out their daddy issues. We always just laughed it off. I could never have imagined that my daughters wished to play out those same daddy fantasies.
While he no longer had the six-pack-abs he had in college, Jim was in good shape. He lifted weights several days a week with a trainer and ran daily. His workout routine left him looking much younger than a man in his fifties, and Jim had the energy level to match his looks. He was charming, funny, and one of the sweetest men I had ever met. It was no surprise why our daughters fell for him.
Add to the fact that he spoiled them rotten; he was everything I could have dreamed of when I pictured a man for my daughters. I just imagined that they would date someone closer to their ages, oh, and who wasn't their fucking father!
I just couldn't understand how my husband could look at our daughters that way. Don't get me wrong; our daughters are breathtaking. They each had their own distinct energy that made them attractive in their ways.
Morgan was always more of a free spirit than her older sister. As soon as she left for college, the way she dressed changed entirely. She embraced her innate sexuality and started showing off more of her body. It forced Jim and me to accept that our youngest daughter was now a woman. She began wearing very provocative clothes that flaunted her body. It seemed like her wardrobe consisted of an endless supply of booty shorts, tight dresses, tube tops, and the tiniest bikinis she could find. It surprised me how much Morgan liked showing off her body, but I respected that she embraced her sexuality in a way I never could at her age.
Miriam was different. Don't get me wrong; she was also extraordinarily sexy but in a very distinct way. Miriam had a quiet confidence that belied her physical beauty. When you looked at her, you were instantly overwhelmed by her angelic looks but also her stunning intellect. You could tell by just looking at her that a lot was going on behind her dazzling blue eyes. Miriam always reminded me of a woman from another time. She was witty, incisive, whip-smart, yet held herself with poise and compassion. Don't get me wrong, when she went out with her friends, she dressed as slutty as any other woman in her twenties, but even when dressed like that, there was always a look in her eyes that made you realize you were in the presence of someone different from the rest of the pack. In many ways, I was in awe of her and felt lucky to have raised such an incredible woman.
Despite my appreciation for my daughters, I still couldn't understand how my husband, their father, could fuck them. It didn't help that I was stuck in meetings all day and had no space to process these revelations. As my meeting dragged on, my mind drifted away from the spreadsheets laid out before me. Images of my husband shirtless in the garden started to form in my mind. He looked good there, showing off his sweaty muscular body.
