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Anna and I had a lot in common. We were the same age, in our early twenties, and both of us had parents who’d divorced when we were kids. In both cases, our fathers moved away and never kept in touch and we were raised by our mothers. We were happy and had a good life – we’d both worked enough to afford a mortgage on a run-down and small house with a spare bedroom “For when we want kids”. Anna had lost her job recently and between trying to find another was repairing and decorating our new home and making the garden look nice. As I was the only bread-winner, I’d had to put in a lot of overtime and her isolation was starting to make her depressed.
Then one night she came to me looking apprehensive. Her father had got in touch through Facebook and wanted to be a part of her life again, to make up for bad choices he made. After the divorce, he’d joined the Army and travelled the world, but was now out of it and at a loose end. She was scared about meeting him, but with my support we arranged for him to come and stay with us for a while.
So, Anna’s Dad came to stay. He was 19 years older than her, very much an alpha male personality, and I immediately felt insignificant against him.
That first day was kind of awkward. We spent some time together, walking, showing him the local sights. He bought us a meal at the local pub, and we walked home, settling down on our big sofa in front of the TV and opening a bottle of wine. Anna gradually relaxed and stretched out in the middle, with her head on my lap and her legs on Dad’s. I noticed he gently massaged her calves and feet and she drifted off to sleep, only waking when I turned off the TV. She showed Dad to his room, then came to bed and was quickly asleep, with me soon joining her.
Over the next few days, Dad settled in and the initial formality evaporated. He insisted that I call him “Dad”, and truthfully I felt dominated by the man. He was larger than I, obviously in good physical condition and I felt unable to compete – so calling him Dad felt somewhat natural.
Anna’s behavior changed a lot in those first few days too, almost reverting to a little girl. Calling him daddy, sitting in his lap with her hands around his neck, fishing for compliments. He lapped it up, like any father would. I had to go to work, and they stayed behind working on the house. ‘Dad’ was handy at repairs and was soon making real inroads into making our home look good.
I first noticed something was odd that first Sunday morning. Anna and I normally made love then, slowly and softly, but that time she got out of bed when I started spooning her with my erection and went into the kitchen to make coffee. She wore one of my t-shirts at night, which barely covered her sexy little behind and she left so quickly she didn’t bother to put anything else on. As I lay there, with my hard-on pulsing angrily, I heard voices and realised that Dad was already up and in the kitchen too. Their voices were soft and indistinct, mixed with noises of drawers being opened, the kettle turned on, and so on.
Eventually my bladder forced me out of bed myself, and I padded across the dining room towards the bathroom, when I glanced left through the kitchen door as I passed, and my heart almost stopped. There, in the kitchen, my beautiful blonde wife was sat on the kitchen counter with her father standing between her naked legs in his dressing gown kissing her fully on the mouth! I could see his hands stroking the top of her bare buttocks where he’d lifted the t-shirt up and her own hands were reaching down through the gap in the front çatalca escort of his dressing gown, obviously pulling on his penis! I watched silently for perhaps two minutes at my lovely wife entwined with this much older man before I really had to piss, so walked barefoot on into the bathroom and sat down. I sat there trying to piss, but with a massive erection. Eventually it subsided enough for me to do what I needed to, and I flushed and walked out. They were by now separated, each with a cup of coffee in their hands as if nothing had happened. I joined them and Anna pushed a cup into my hands and chatted brightly about the coming day. I could have said something. I could have said that I saw them kissing and that they should stop it. I could have tried to kick Dad out of the house. I did none of those things – I didn’t want to make a fuss. It was just a kiss, right? I almost convinced myself it was innocent. Almost.
The next day I went to work as usual. I came back to hear giggling from the bathroom and the noises of the shower. Eventually they tumbled through the door, both completely naked, him chasing her. She looked shocked when she saw me, but only for a moment. Her dad caught her by the waist and scooped her up, wriggling and wet, as he lightly spanked her bottom. Looking directly at me, he explained as if it was the most rational thing in the world; “Naughty Anna didn’t want to get clean, so I had to take her into the shower with me like I used to when she was little!” They both ignored my shocked expression, and when he let her down, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly on the lips before going to our room and getting dressed. Dad stood there watching her leave, seemingly oblivious to his large and semi erect penis being on display.
“Ah,” he said conversationally to me, “young Annie has turned into a beautiful woman. I wish I could have been there at your wedding, she must have looked radiant. Show me your photos, son.”
It wasn’t quite an order, but it was near enough to get my legs moving me towards the living room. As I fished our photo album from the drawer, he came in, still very naked, and peered over my shoulder. I flicked through until we reached the wedding photos, and he enjoyed each one. The honeymoon pictures, with Anne in a bikini, raised an appreciative murmur and he traced a finger lovingly around her curves. “She looks so much like her mother did at that age, a real knockout!”
That night, I awoke at about 2am to strange sounds. My wife wasn’t lying next to me. I lay there for a moment, then I heard the sound of the spare room door closing and my wife slipped back into our bed. I lay quiet, puzzling things over in my head, but I didn’t want to believe what must be going on and eventually I fell back into a troubled sleep.
The next day, I kissed my wife goodbye as she lay dozing contentedly in bed. As I left the house and walked past the window, I saw Dad walk towards our bedroom. He was completely naked. Again, I could have made a fuss. I considered staying behind just to watch, but I didn’t want to risk being late for work and losing our only wage, so I hurried to my car.
That evening, I stopped at an electronics shop and bought a small video camera – the sort that records video and audio right onto a SD card. When I got home, they had finished working on the house and were cosily curled up on the sofa watching the TV. It was sweet – a little girl and her dad. As I changed out of my work clothes, I placed the camera on top of the wardrobe, covered by some luggage. esenyurt escort It was quite hidden and I would be able to switch it on easily as I left for work the next day. I tested it and it worked fine – you couldn’t see the little red light at all and it was totally silent.
We had a nice enough night, and the next morning I flicked the switch and left the house. After work I came home and, alone in the bedroom, swapped the SD card with a fresh one and joined them both downstairs. The next morning at work, I watched the resulting video before my colleagues came in.
Sure enough, the video showed my bed with the indistinct form of my wife curled up under the duvet as I kissed the top of her head goodbye. The sound of the front door slamming behind me, then within seconds Dad was in the room and sliding under the covers that I had only just left – still warm, no doubt.
The duvet moved as they embraced. Murmurings and soft noises started, then suddenly Dad flung back the coverings revealing them both lying nakedly together. His large and hairy body contrasting strongly with her petite and light frame. I watched as my wife, my darling Anne, lay backwards and spread her legs. Her glistening vagina glinting in the light. Dad moved quickly between those pale legs and slid his erect cock slowly into her ready and willing sheath.
“Fuck me, Daddy!” came my wife’s quiet but urgent voice.
His toned and tanned buttocks rose powerfully in and out between her raised knees.
“Oh, baby girl – if your mother was half as good at this as you are, I would never have left her.” came his reply.
“Am I a good widdle girl?” her voice lisping babyishly, belying her 22 years.
“The best!” his voice ragged and low, breathing deeply.
I heard him come. Fully inside my wife, his daughter, and the springs stopped squeaking as they relaxed.
Quietly then, I heard her say, “Daddy, please don’t leave me again. Stay with me for always.”
As I watched the video of the morning before, knowing that in all likelihood they were doing the same thing right now as I sat at a computer at work, shamefully feeling the pressure of my own erect cock inside my trousers. I quickly released it and as the video played on with the scene of them both lying together on our marital bed, him big spoon and her small, I masturbated and blew my own seed into my hand.
I wondered about my reaction through the day. Clearly my wife was unfaithful, but with her own father. Incest. I should be outraged, not turned on. I couldn’t understand why I felt like this, but also couldn’t deny that I did. Maybe it was some complicated mix of my own father abandoning me that allowed me to be so willing to be cuckolded by this new father figure.
Even amongst significant changes, life goes on. Anna was now less “Dutiful wife” than “Daddy’s Little Girl”, and he in turn treated her like a princess. Taking her shopping, buying her nice things, including some very sexy dresses and flimsy underwear. Of course I was working a lot of hours, giving them plenty of time to develop their perverted relationship, and Dad clearly saw no reason to move out. I certainly wasn’t strong enough to force him to or even raise the issue. They were often nude together in the evenings, curled up on the sofa, sometimes him lazily stroking her breasts, thighs, stomach or pubis as I sat next to them watching the TV. The house smelled of sex more often than it didn’t when I came home, and Anna wouldn’t let me make love to her at all now.
Most etiler escort nights I would go to bed first, tired from work – and would sometimes wake to hear them fucking on the sofa or in Dad’s room. Then she would come to my bed and fall asleep right away, sometimes leaking semen from her distended labia. I assume he still came into my bed after I left as I’d now stopped recording each morning after collecting dozens of movies of them together that I still wanked to at work. That had become my only sexual release now.
One morning, Dad said; “Son, I’ve been thinking. Me and my Daughter like to enjoy lots of hugs and cuddles as we make up for lost time, and it would help if you moved into the spare room for a while. You’ll be a good lad, won’t you?”
What could I say? There was no way I could stand up to this man, so I just moved my stuff over and took his stuff into their room. Whilst I was doing this, they took another shower together and my face burned in humiliation as I heard them giggling together behind the closed door.
Sure enough, they came out of the bathroom and into “their room” and collapsed into bed. He lying naked between her legs, licking at her now shaved-bare vagina. That must have been what the giggling was about, and I imagined him carefully shaving her most intimate of married parts.
I was still moving my stuff out of their room so was walking back and forth, opening drawers – they ignored me completely.
“Oh, Daddy – do you like licking your baby girl’s little hole?” Anna said, in her affected baby voice.
His reply was muffled, but soon enough he raised is slimey face and moved up the bed to french kiss her and with his tongue, feed her own juices. As he did so, his huge and very hard penis aligned with that well lubricated, naked and bare opening and gently pushed inside. Despite the young appearance of the vagina, shorn of its adult coverings, his dick slid easily inside her. Inside my wife. I stood, holding some clothes in my hand, at the foot of the bed as this powerful man slowly built up speed and fucked my wife hard, with such force that they were both bouncing back off the bed with each thrust. I’d just seen my wife’s diaphragm lying unused in the drawer as I was cleaning out. She was fertile and unprotected and I felt my own penis throbbing painfully as he climaxed loudly into her. She in turn orgasmed at the point of ejaculation, and I watched her arsehole pulse powerfully in time with his as she milked his seed out of him. White semen leaked out from around the base of his now softening penis.
I withdrew into my new, smaller room and masturbated at what I’d just seen. Before I could finish, Anna gently pushed the door open and entered, still naked and dripping sperm from her bare slit, she saw me lying there with my cock in my had. Without a word, she walked to the bed and straddled me, guiding my penis into her very wet hole. It felt very strange – not only because we hadn’t fucked for over a month, but I had never felt her so wet, so loose and so warm. She rode me slowly, eyes closed, one hand lightly clasped around my neck for balance and control, until I came inside her too – adding my legitimate sperm to the large amount of incestuous slime already inside her. She leant forwards and gave me a chaste peck on the lips and making eye contact for the first time, oftly whispered; “Thank you for letting me be the daughter my daddy always wanted.” She then left and returned to her father’s arms.
That was to be the last time I fucked my wife. She got pregnant that night of course, and Dad and I watched her bloom through pregnancy. He treated me more like a son than ever, but one who was allowed to watch them make love if they left the door open, or did it beside me on the sofa – sometimes Anna using my shoulder for support as she rode Daddy up and down his big paternal penis.
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