I remain frozen on the bed, maybe slightly confused as to why Clodagh hung up so soon but I’m drinking in the teenage perfection of the redheaded temptress standing naked in the doorway. When she crawls onto the bed and runs her tongue up my leg from ankle to inner thigh, I forget all about Clodagh’s strange behaviour and lie back to luxuriate as Katie’s tongue sends pulse after pulse of pleasure direct to my core.

Eventually, we have to take a break to eat and rehydrate. I phone out for a takeaway, ordering Katie’s favourite; Thai green curry which we wash down with bottles of Tiger beer.

“You are so naughty, supplying alcohol to a sixteen-year-old,” Katie giggles. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“It’s a bit late for that,” I laugh before kissing her once more. By the time we fall asleep, we’ve taken each other in every hole with the girlcock. Not for the first time, I’m thankful we live in a detached house as Katie screams to god for the umpteenth time before finally slumping exhausted.

I’m woken up by Katie’s tongue lapping between my legs. Dear god, I think. This girl is insatiable. I grind and squirm on my teenage lover’s face. The fact that I am married and this girl is my daughter’s girlfriend doesn't seem relevant just now. The past few months have been a hedonistic whirlwind ever since I seduced or had been seduced by my daughter’s best friend.

Katie’s tongue flickers over my clit. I clench my pelvic floor muscles, and a fresh sheen of pussy juice glazes her face. I’m a bitch in heat. After weeks of sneaking around, we’ve finally had a night to ourselves. My wife is safely ensconced at a conference in Dublin, my daughter is at a GAA training weekend in Galway and this is the best wakeup call I could ever have.

I hear the front door slam but my brain doesn’t register it. The drum of footsteps running up the stairs merges with the caresses of Katie’s tongue, and it is only when the bedroom door crashes open and Clodagh is standing there that my brain catches up.

“I saw the strap-on lying on the bed on the video call. Even you don’t masturbate with a harness.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Katie continues to slurp at my pussy, dragging the flat of her tongue along my slit as her fingers tease my arse, ignoring my wife standing at the foot of the bed. Clodagh unfastens her coat and I’m surprised yet turned on to see she is dressed in only her bra and knickers underneath. She’s wearing her favourite sexy set she saves for special occasions so I’m surprised she took them to the conference.

She picks up the discarded girlcock still coated with a heady mixture of Katie’s and my secretions and steps into the harness. I watch, frozen as she positions herself behind Katie and slams the girlcock into our daughter’s lover before she locks eyes with me.

“You are such a fucking whore,” she spits. She slams into Katie harder and harder. She forces Katie’s face deeper into me. I watch Clodagh’s chest heave with exertion as she uses Katie like a piece of meat. Katrie’s moans turn to whimpers and pleads as Clodgah’s nails dig into her hips, pulling Katie onto her with every thrust. She forces the girlcock in deeper and harder with every thrust.

It feels like she is fucking me through Katie, using the girl as a conduit, as she looks at me with disgust. I can feel my orgasm building as she fucks me. I watch Clodagh gritting her teeth and pounding harder. Clodgah grabs Katie’s long red hair like reins and tugs hard, pulling the girl’s face off my edged cunt.

I open my mouth to scream as the head of the girlcock is forced out through Katie’s mouth. The girl is impaled on Clodagh’s cock and I watch as it grows and stretches. Katie’s eyes roll as she orgasms, cumming as the cock stretches through her and into my own cunt.

I wake with a scream.

It’s not yet dawn, but even in the subdued light from the hallway, I can see that Clodagh isn’t standing in the bedroom and Katie is lying asleep beside me.

I slump back. My head rests on the pillow as I stare at the ceiling. Fuck, I think. My heart is still racing with adrenaline coursing through my body. As the fright from my dream wears off, I begin to realise I’m playing with fire but I don’t know how to end it.

I must have gone back to sleep because the next thing I know, it’s late morning and the sun is streaming in. Katie stirs beside me.

“Good morning, Mammy,” she grins. “I want to wake you up properly. The way we talked about.” She slides between my legs and on autopilot, I spread for her.

I contemplate telling her about my dream, but the way Katie makes her tongue flicker like a snake makes all rational thought impossible, and I give in and let my teenage lover seduce me once more.

After I cum, Katie licks me clean then crawls up and kisses me. Her face glistens, and I feel a pang of regret that soon my wife and daughter will be back and mornings like this will become impossible.

As if reading my mind, Katie murmurs, “I wish it could be like this all the time.”

“I know, darling,” I sympathise. “But it can’t be. You have Aoife and I have Clodagh.”

“You know Aoife wants to be with Clodagh, don’t you?”

I snort with laughter. “Don’t be silly, Katie. Clodagh’s her mother.”

Katie shrugs. “Not really. She’s not her biological mother.”

“That doesn’t make any difference,” I argue. Katie just shrugs. “It does to Aoife.”

“Has she told you this?”

“You really don’t know. You’ve never sneaked in and read her diary?”

I stare open-mouthed. The thought of reading Aoife’s diary feels like the ultimate break of trust.

“Have you read it?” I ask, knowing she must have. Katie nods and slides off the bed and heads to Aoife’s room.

I get up and grab my robe. I’ve just tied the belt when Katie returns and hands me Aoife’s diary.

She reaches for her t-shirt and slips it on before kneeling on the bed beside me as I run my fingers over the front cover. It just looks like an old school exercise book. My fingers trace the doodles drawn with black or blue biro. I feel like I’m putting off the inevitable. It feels so wrong, the ultimate invasion of privacy but I can’t help myself. I have to know.

I open the first page and automatically give a gasp of shock. The page is covered in drawings. They are unmistakably Clodagh. Aoife is a talented artist and has captured Clodagh’s likeness perfectly. But oh my god. Every drawing is pornographic. Clodagh in provocative lingerie, Clodgah topless, Clodagh naked. In some, she is posed like she was one of those French girls. In others, she is lying back with her legs spread. I flick through pages and pages of Clodagh rubbing her clit. Clodagh with her back arched riding a dildo, Clodagh being fucked by fingers and toys. Clodagh standing and stroking her strap-on with a girl who looks remarkably like Aoife kneeling submissively in front of her. In some she looks seductive, in others she is in the throes of orgasm.

And in between the drawings, Aoife has poured out her deepest, darkest fantasies. She writes of how she masturbates at night to thoughts of her and Clodagh. I swallow, blushing as I read how Aoife sneaks in and uses our toy box, imagining it is Clodagh using and abusing her teenage body.

I read how she is glad Clodagh isn’t her real mother and how she wishes I was dead and Clodagh was free to be with her. I read how Katie kissed her at the party and how she imagines it is Clodagh who is making love to her when she is with Katie. I close the book as the tears threaten to run down my face.

“What’s going on?”

I jump at the sound of Clodagh’s voice. I’d been so engrossed in Aoife’s diary that I hadn’t heard her come in. I stand, blushing, open-mouthed. I am trying to wipe my tears and hide the diary at the same time and failing to do either.

Clodagh steps forward and plucks the diary out of my hand. I try to stop her, not wanting her to see it but it’s too late. I watch Clodagh’s hand go to her face as she stares at the drawings. She turns the pages, skim-reading our daughter’s teenage fantasies illustrated with pornographic drawings of my wife.

She only looks at a couple of pages before closing the book.

“Why?” Her voice is icy cold.

“I don't know.” I shrug. “I guess you’ll have to ask Aoife.”

“No,” she snaps. “Why did you read it? What are you doing with it?”

There are tears in her eyes too. “Why did you have to do that? To break her trust?” She is walking around the room, throwing her hands up as she tries to form the words through her anger. “How could you read her diary?”

She suddenly notices Katie.

“And what is she doing here?”

She turns and takes in our bedroom. The discarded sex toys. The stains on the sheets. The open bottle of lube. Katie’s panties lying on the floor. She takes in the fact Katie is just wearing a tee shirt and I’ve just got my robe on.

“So sleeping with her girlfriend isn’t enough, Susan, you had to read her diary as well?"

I do my goldfish impression, standing with my mouth opening and closing but no words form.

She shakes her head and returns Aoife’s diary to her bedroom.

“Was this a one-off?” she demands as soon as she returns.

I glance at Katie, then slowly shake my head.

“No,” I finally manage to croak.

Realisation dawns on Clodagh’s face.

“That time. The time you called me Katie.” She puts her hands to her face. “You were sleeping with her then?”

I nod.

“Jesus Christ,” she swears.

She stands, visibly shaking. Her fingers clench and unclench, forming fists. She gives us one last contemptuous look and suggests we get dressed. She heads downstairs to the kitchen, leaving us standing in silence.

I can hear the kettle boil for the great Irish response to any situation—a cup of tea.

Katie doesn’t speak but just reaches for her knickers and pulls them on. I watch her walk nonchalantly back to Aoife’s room to gather the rest of her clothes. I pull the stained sheets from the bed and get a fresh set of bedding from the hot press. I make the bed, then head for the shower.

When I finally make it downstairs, Aoife is sitting holding an empty mug and staring into space.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

She lifts her head and looks at me with red eyes.

“So you were already having an affair with Katie when she started going out with Aoife?”

I nod.

“I suppose that’s something. Katie’s gone home, by the way. She didn’t leave a message for you.”

I move closer and pull a chair out and sit down opposite her.

“Clodagh, I...” I begin but she cuts me off.

“Are you going to tell Aoife or do I have to?”

I don’t get to answer as Aoife comes barging in the door.

“Hiya, I’m home,” she calls out.

“We’re in here,” Clodagh replies, and we both watch Aoife bounding into the room.

“How’d it go? Clodagh asks and Aoife recounts the trip, the training, the overnight stay and the fact she’d been selected for the county team without seemingly drawing breath.

Clodgah stands and hugs her, congratulating her and telling her we are both so happy for her.

“How was your weekend?” Aoife asks, looking from me to Clodagh and back again.

“Oh, the conference was fairly boring, but I think your mother can tell you herself what she got up to.”

I pale. This wasn’t how I wanted to tell her at all. I gaze at Aoife. Her freckled face smiles back at me.

“I… well… um, I guess,” I begin, then stop speaking and just wave my hands around while looking for inspiration.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, Susan,” Clodagh snaps. “If you can’t tell her, I will.”

She turns to Aoife and reaches out and takes her hands.

“I’m so sorry, baby, but your mother has been sleeping with Katie for the past couple of months. I caught them earlier today.”

I watch as Aoife’s face goes from uncomprehension to realisation. I watch it crumple as her world collapses around her. She looks from me to Clodagh and back again, as if trying to comprehend what she is hearing.

Clodagh moves in to wrap her arms around her and hold her but Aoife pushes her away. She turns and, with tears running down her cheeks, runs upstairs to her room.

“Aoife,” I call, standing up to follow her but Clodagh signals for me to just leave it and to my shame, I feel relief as I do. I watch Clodagh run up the stairs after Aoife. She knocks gently on her bedroom door before opening it and slipping inside. I go into my office and close the door and sink into my chair. “Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck ,fuck,” I shout and put my hands over my face.

I had expected Aoife to throw Clodagh out so when the minutes pass and the door remains closed, curiosity gets the better of me. I stand and open my office door. I stare down the hallway to the closed door of Aoife’s bedroom. I carefully creep down the hall. I kneel down and peer through the keyhole. I watch as Clodagh consoles Aoife, both of them sitting on Aoife’s bed. Clodagh is holding Aoife’s hand and caressing it gently. Aoife glances up at Clodagh. Her eyes are damp with tears. Clodagh raises her hand to wipe away a tear as it starts to slide down Aoife’s cheek. And then, as if in slow-motion, Aoife tilts her head up at the same moment as Clodagh leans down and their lips touch. They kiss, and then pause. There are a few seconds where time seems to stand still, where they both give the other the chance to back out. And then they kiss again. Aoife’s hand slides around the back of Clodgah’s neck as she pulls her in. They kiss hard and passionately. Clodgah’s hand moves down to squeeze Aoife’s boob. Aoife’s other hand drops to caress Clodaghs’ thigh.

I watch as my wife and my daughter kiss. Aoife kisses passionately and hurriedly. The exuberance of youth is reminiscent of Katie. She is in a rush to get to the final prize and not enjoying the stages along the way. She pulls off her top and offers Clodagh her pert teenage boobs.

Clodgah bends her head and kisses Aoife's neck. My daughter arches her back and purrs as my wife sucks her neck, bruising the flesh and marking her. She slips Aoife’s bra straps down and kisses her way down towards Aoife's hard, marshmallow pink nipple.

She suckles Aoife’s breasts, moving from left to right and back again. Aoife squirms and purrs, her fingers moving through Clodagh’s blonde hair. Clodgah’s hands drop and tug down the elastic waistband of Aoife’s tracksuit bottoms. They slide easily over her still boyish hips, and Clodagh murmurs her approval as she gazes at the damp patch on the pink cotton of Aoife’s boy shorts.

Clodagh has always been predatory, and right now, she reminds me of a panther circling its prey as she slips off the bed and kneels in front of Aoife. She gazes up at Aoife, reassuring her as her fingers caress Aoife’s silky smooth teenage thighs. Clodagh’s fingers brush the obvious damp patch and is rewarded with a whimpered plead from Aoife.

Her fingers grip the cotton fabric, and Aoife automatically lifts her ass off the bed to allow Clodagh to unpeel the sodden material from her crotch. The pink fabric is discarded, left to lie on the floor as Clodagh spreads Aoife’s legs open. I watch her kiss Aoife’s silly smooth lips as Aoife arches her back and purrs with pleasure. I realise with a jolt she’s got what she wanted. Clodagh is going to give her everything she described in her diary.

Almost without thinking, my hand slides into jeans and strokes my needy wet pussy through my damp panties as I watch my daughter grind her pussy into my wife’s face. Clodagh curls a finger inside her as she suckles her clit. Aoife responds with a guttural groan and tugs on her nipples.

‘Yes, Mummy,” she cries. “Oh god, fuck me, Mummy.” And Clodagh gives her what she wants. She fucks my daughter. I watch Clodagh roll her face in Aoife’s teenage pussy and push her tongue inside her.

I rub faster, masturbating furiously as I watch them fuck. Aoife jerks her hips and paws at her tits as Clodagh licks faster. I can see Clodagh French-kissing Aoife’s pussy. She rubs her nose on Aoife’s clit as she thrusts her tongue deep inside.

My hips jerk as I finger myself to orgasm watching the most private and intimate moment my wife has ever shared with my daughter. I cum like a pervert, watching them through the keyhole as my daughter clamps her hand over her mouth to muffle her orgasm as she explodes on my wife’s face.

Clodgah lifts her head, her face smeared with Aoife’s cum. She pulls off her top, stands and pushes her trousers and knickers down. Aoife grins and reaches for the vibrator. The vibrator I watched Katie use on Aoife and, indeed, the one she used on me. With a jolt, I realise my juices are still smeared on it and I watch as Aoife now rubs it over Clodagh’s clit.

I keep touching myself as I watch my daughter pleasure my wife. I watch them kiss passionately, tongues swirling as Aoife holds the vibrator to Clodagh’s clit and muffles Clodagh’s cries with her mouth.

I can’t watch anymore. I quietly sneak away from the bedroom door...