But my quest to rekindle our flame started out terribly. The night I decided to pounce him, he avoided me all night. We had barely talked at dinner, as he spent the majority of the time catching up on our 18-year-old daughter Yolanda's day. Sure it was nice to see how close they were becoming, but it wouldn't hurt to get a little bit of attention myself. And when it was time to turn in, he bunched himself up in the covers and fell asleep, thwarting any and all of my plans to try and spark some passion. Sure, I could have just jumped his bones but ... his lack of interest made me a bit self-conscious.
But something had roused me from my already restless sleep that night. A sound. Voices. I shot up, heart thumping. Had there been an intruder in the house? I turned to shake Terry out of his slumber, only to find that he wasn't there. Had he gone to work? No, I deduced after taking a gander at the alarm clock sitting upon my nightstand, seeing that it was 3:00AM. Too early for that.
Another sound startled me. A sound that resembled ... moaning. A woman moaning.
Fear drained from me, with rage building in its stead.
A woman moaning. Did Terry go out and bring home some floozie to fuck? In MY house? I rose from the bed, tightening my silk robe around my naked form, padding bare feet across warm carpet towards my bedroom door. I paused in the hallway, listening. The slut's moans grew louder, mixed with my husband's. I hadn't heard so much as grunt from him during sex the past few years. My skin grew hot, fiery rage turning my pale skin a bright red.
The computer room. The moaning was coming from there. Could Terry have been watching pornography and masturbating? It was possible, but then I realized that we had no speakers ...
More anger.
I tip-toed down the stairs, and made my clandestine approach toward the computer room, totally unprepared for what I was to witness the moment I peeked my head around the corner.
My daughter. My gorgeous red-head daughter, bouncing her slender naked body atop of her father's—my husband's—cock.
I turned away, clamping my hand over my mouth. Disbelief enveloped me. I pinched myself, to make sure that I wasn't dreaming ... I wasn't. I turned my head back around the corner, watching Yolanda ride her father in the computer chair, bucking her hips and squeezing her tits. Her nipples looked so hard. Her lips had been wrapped around one of my husband's fingers, who had been gazing up at his not-so-little girl in a way that no father should. The sheer wrongness of the situation begged for me to stop what they were doing. However, I did nothing. I only watched, while my clit throbbed and lips moistened.
The pain in my pinched arm began mocking me.
This is terrible, I thought. I'm terrible! I should be stopping this ... yet I'm ... so hot ...
"Fuck me, daddy," I heard her moan. "Fuck my pussy.