Daddy's Cock Forever!
Copyright© 2017 by Severusmax
Chapter 1
Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - From the perspective of a bitter, cynical husband and father with a penchant for philandering, this is the tale of how his daughter became his slut on her wedding day, just hours after marrying her beau.
Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Ma/Ma Mult Consensual Drunk/Drugged Lesbian BiSexual Heterosexual Cheating Sharing Slut Wife Wife Watching Wimp Husband Incest Mother Son Brother Sister Father Daughter InLaws DomSub MaleDom FemaleDom Rough Group Sex Harem Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Swinging Interracial White Male White Female Indian Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Oral Sex Pegging Pregnancy Sex Toys Voyeurism Size Nudism
The wedding was absolutely lovely, of course. It was a bit strange, of course, to watch my daughter take the plunge with this new man in her life. She was beautiful, of course, just like her mother in her own way. Even though my wife and I were estranged, we had never quite divorced, at least not yet, and I definitely considered her one of the most gorgeous women on Earth. One of the few rivals to her was my daughter, and, well, she took my breath away at moments like this. I didn’t generally tend to like the whole “princess” thing, but it was hard not to feel like a king and think of her as just that, my princess, when she stood there in her bridal gown, all eyes on her.
“Who gives this woman to be with this man?” the priest asked aloud.
“Her mother and I do,” I smiled at both my wife and my daughter right then, unaware of how my life would change pretty soon.
The priest then called for the rings, after which my daughter and her bridegroom, a nice enough fellow, if a bit timid and shy, exchanged both bands and wedding vows. I couldn’t help but notice the way that the mother of the groom leered at me, even as she also ogled her own son, but that was none of my business at the present. I was there for my Amy, at least at the moment. Any further fallout, well, that was another matter, wasn’t it, for another time. This was her day, and to a certain lesser extent in my lights, given my partiality, her Billy’s day.
When the priest pronounced them man and wife, I was very happy for her, even though wedded bliss hadn’t been my own experience of marriage. Speaking of which, I saw the look in my wife’s eyes as she saw me and also the way that Billy’s mother mentally undressed me. There was jealousy, but there was also a fascination of sorts. After all, Billy’s parents were still married, and supposedly not as estranged as us, so what was going on there? Were unfaithful wives my lot in life, to have them, hold them, and sleep with them, from my own to other men’s? I looked over at Billy’s father, who was already a bit sauced from the look of him, and wondered what in the ever loving world his wife ever saw in him in the first place.
“It’s your curse, you know. Adultery seems to just follow you everywhere, doesn’t it?” my wife whispered in my ear as we signed the license as witnesses together, “for what it’s worth, I know what a jealous, hypocritical bitch I’ve been, but I’m human, so sue me. Maybe we can ... you know, make a truce of sorts in spite of that.”
“Yes, I’m a walking Murphy’s Law of marital infidelity, aren’t I? Yours, mine, other women’s, etc. What sort of truce did you have in mind? I’ve dropped any pressure on you to sign the divorce papers, and neither of us have spoken to our lawyers in how long now? Isn’t that a kind of truce in itself? We’re basically separated, that’s all, for all intents and purposes?” I addressed Cassie’s comments as we headed out for the reception.
“I appreciate that, by the way. I’m a horrible Catholic, but I am a Catholic. I appreciate you not putting me in permanent danger of eternal damnation, for all that’s worth. Thank you for that, babe. I also appreciate getting to attend our daughter’s wedding Mass in every way, without feeling an utter pariah. Enough people already judge me, knowing our past. I’ll explain the truce in short order, if you’re still interested, just not here, not yet, and obviously, you can make your counter-offer, if mine still displeases you,” Cassie whispered huskily, her voice leaving no question of her continued lust for me.
“Very well. We’ll talk it over later, then. There’s still the big party back at your place, anyway. Should I drop off the payment there, too? It’s a little early, but would save a trip and gasoline,” I alluded to the mortgage check.
“Hey, it’s not as if it’s court-ordered, as with most such payments. If you want to pay ahead, that makes it easier on me, too. Still, I appreciate that you’ve been keeping me housed and all that jazz. At least the alimony stopped when I got a new job, by mutual agreement, and didn’t I get one rather fast, babe?” Cassie reminded me, feeling a little defensive about that whole matter of me paying for the mortgage so many years.
“That you did, to be fair,” I acknowledged, as it was true, perhaps due to pride on her part, “Why exactly did Amy want a masque as her party’s theme, anyway?”
“My idea, babe. I suggested it, and being a good daughter, she went with it. Such a sweetheart, our little girl. She is our little girl, you know. Yours and mine. I know that some of your friends urged a paternity test, but I’m glad that you never sought one. I don’t know if it was spite or if they were just trying to protect you, but... ,” I stopped her with a finger to her lips.
“She’s my daughter. Case closed. I don’t even want to discuss that issue, because it was never in doubt with me. She’s our daughter, mine and yours, as you say. My baby. Your baby. Our girl. There was no way in Hell that I would ever do such a thing, unless, well, it came down to donating organs or blood, and even then it would only be to save her life. I’d test for blood type and expect the results to be a match. End of story,” I refused to even entertain the notion that Amy wasn’t my daughter in every sense of the word.
“Anyway, she wanted a masque, too, once she thought of it. That’s our little girl. Always willing to do things for Mom and Dad, always wanting us back together, of course, though she was angry with me for hurting you ... and for some reason always took up for you more. Defended you for your revenge affairs, but to be fair, maybe she didn’t realize that you were always on the cusp of infidelity, so didn’t need much excuse. Then again, also to be fair, I didn’t exactly qualify as wife of the year, did I? I never apologized for cheating on you, though you never did for the revenge affairs, either.
“I never had a right to expect fidelity from you, given my own adultery, but I was selfish and scared, okay? Terrified of losing you to another, better woman. That doesn’t explain my infidelity, though, but that was just another case of my selfishness, I guess. The dirty thrill of getting some on the side. The Catholic guilt thing, I guess. The more I fear sin, the more I desire it. It’s the lure of the taboo, that’s all. It wasn’t to hurt you, but I definitely managed that, anyway, and got burned for my pains. Even so, thanks for basically letting the divorce drop, at least of late,” Cassie told me in between stopping to greet folks and get some punch.
“Um ... first part of the truce, at least for tonight, no more rehashing the past, okay? We’ve been all over this, haven’t we? You asked for marriage and monogamy, per your religion, not mine, and you didn’t follow your own moral code, which I didn’t even share. I, ironically, did follow yours, up to a point, but not past the point where you reneged on your own proposed contract. But again, let’s not go into that. For our daughter’s sake, let’s just drop that for today,” I encouraged Cassie, who nodded, eyes moistening with the tears that she wouldn’t shed.
“You’re right, you’re right, of course. Let’s just make the best of this, but I do hope that you entertain my proposal. If you’re interested, dear, just meet me in the wine cellar. There, if you wish, we can ... consummate our marriage 2.0 in privacy, if you will,” Cassie’s eyes were unmistakable.
To be fair, Cassie and I had fucked, off and on, over the years, her excuse being that it was still married sex in God’s eyes, so it wasn’t just a booty call. She was always very good in the sack, too, never a dead lay, her strawberry blonde hair always showing a sheen of sexy sweat after the fact from considerable exertion on her part. Sometimes, she attacked me when I dropped off the payments, too. She seemed to enjoy that part especially, for reasons that were never quite clear to me. Was she role-playing the part of a whore? Then again, whores demanded condoms and Cassie absolutely refused to let a rubber inside her.
“I’ll ... consider it,” I continued the whispered discourse, which no doubt had people looking at us strangely, but then, we were still married, and some must have realized all married couples have their little secrets, even estranged ones.
“That’s all that I ask, honey,” Cassie persisted in using endearments for me, something that she admittedly never stopped doing for all these years.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Daniel Rubinstein himself? Miracles do happen, I think! To see you and the wife hanging out with each other so much, whispering whatever secrets you have together, the hidden mysterious of a couple together for so long. Well, intermittently, of course,” Roger Stanfield, Cassie’s stepbrother, shook my hand and kissed his stepsister’s.
“Yes, it was beautiful, seeing the father and mother of the bride standing together in amity, even if only briefly. God works in very strange ways at times, and so I do see the hand of our Lord and His Saints at work, in fact,” the priest, Father Jack Cannon, declared for his part, no doubt meaning well, as he showed by shaking my hand, fist-bumping Roger, and hugging Cassie very warmly.
“Well, I won’t promise anything, but for the moment, yes, I’ve let sleeping dogs lie, as it were. Both of us have. There’s a kind of ... truce emerging, at least for now. A consensus to leave things be,” I explained to Father Jack, though a bit leery of him despite his pivotal role in my own marriage, mostly because I didn’t have much faith in God anymore.
“It’s not perfect, but a start, and, hey, I’ll take it. There’s no finality to this, which is good. As long as you preserve the sacrament, there’s still hope, I believe, because you’re still in a state of grace. I know that you’re not Catholic, Dan, but that’s how I feel, that’s what I honestly believe. I think that you, as a Jew, have a decent respect for the estate of marriage, as witnessed by your attendance at this, your daughter’s wedding, and your own hesitation at actually severing the marital bonds with your wife. Remember, I officiated your own wedding Mass, so many years ago,” the aging priest expounded his own thoughts.
“For the record, I still love Cassie. I always will. That’s just a fact. No sense in denying. It wouldn’t have hurt as much if I didn’t love her, would it? I don’t just fall out of love very easily. It’s never been my way, whatever my reputation,” I pointed out, not mentioning the fact that I was also a very lapsed Jew to have married a Roman Catholic of any stripe, love or no love.
“I ... know. I can see it in your eyes. That’s why it hurts so much that we’ve come so close to the end. Sorry, dear. I didn’t mean for the past to get brought up again. I know what we agreed, and somehow, it got mentioned again, anyway,” Cassie told me with a sudden kiss, which Amy noticed and which brought a smile to her face, just as the best man got our attention and prepared to give his wedding toast.
That I didn’t resist the kiss probably got some attention, too, but I stopped it in time not to steal my daughter’s thunder. I wanted her to be the focus, not Cassie or me. Well, her and Billy, to be accurate, but I was naturally partial to Amy. I smiled at my daughter as she sat there, looking gorgeous as ever. She blushed a little, especially when Tyler, the best man, kept rambling on about some of her escapades over recent months with the groom, before finally delivering the toast itself.
“Daddy, would you care to say something?” Amy called out to me, and I nodded.
“Baby girl, you look as lovely as ever and your young man here is one hell of a lucky bastard to have you. No offense, Billy. It’s just every father’s prerogative to think that his daughter is way out of every man’s league. You’re a solid man and I trust that I’m leaving her in very good hands,” I announced, despite my doubts, especially given that Billy seemed to be so tied to his mother’s apron strings, “anyway, congratulations, sweetie, and to you, too, Billy. To Amy and Billy, many years of wedded bliss!” I told them as raised my glass in the toast.
“My turn to speak, then. Billy, Amy, I really care for both of you, though, as Amy’s mother, I’m naturally biased in her favor. Nothing personal. I just made her with this wonderful guy here, her father, the absolute best guy that I’ve ever known. He’s a great husband and father, I’ll have you know, and whatever his flaws, still a shining example to follow, I’ll have you know, Billy. This is a man who has done so much for other people, so much for even people who mistreated him at times, such as yours truly, though I like to think that I’m still a damned good mother and wife in my own way. Anyway, enough of that,” Cassie wiped her eyes free of her tears, “I wish both of you the best in your life together, and all the joy that you could ever have, even if it sometimes comes with some growing pains. To Billy and Amy on their adventures in marriage!” she raised her glass in the toast and we shared it.
With that, I hugged Cassie very tight and gave her a hanky to wipe more of her tears away, much to her surprise, perhaps. I was in an abnormally sentimental, romantic mood for a cynical, estranged husband, I suppose. It was probably due to seeing Amy’s and Billy’s joy in their union, which brought back great memories of the earliest, halcyon days of my own to Cassie, before the affairs, which were really the only serious problem in our marriage to date, well, that and the mutual resentment over them, plus my dislike of the whole monogamy rule in the first place. I know that other people like to assume that a marriage is poisoned already if one or both spouses cheat, but I just recall how happy we were until she started cheating on me, not practicing what she preached.
“You’re right, you know. You’re a terrific mother and wife, all things considered. You’re even a great girlfriend to your beaus, I believe,” I reassured Cassie, giving her a tender kiss on the lips, which just made her smile very wistfully at me and kiss me back very hard.
“Except for cheating on them with you, but that can’t be helped. You’re my husband. My body rightfully belongs to you, not them. Besides, if I can betray you, they’re not getting a free pass, either,” Cassie answered with some dark humor.
“I suppose that’s kinda been my deal with my girlfriends, too,” I confessed with some embarrassment.
“I figured as much. That offer still holds, if you wish, once we get to the real party, the masque. Such a treasure, our girl, with such wonderful ideas, isn’t she?” Cassie winked at me, even as Amy and Billy both looked lost in their own little world, at least for now.
“That she is, babe. That she is,” I smiled at my wife, even returning her wink, though not committing myself to the idea just yet.
Several courses later, between shaking hands with everyone, hugging Amy more than once, even giving her butterfly kisses, not to mention other activities, I was just a tad more sauced myself than I expected to be, though stuffing my face with food slowed it down a bit. I even got a cell call from Xander, my son, who was out of the country right then, so unable to attend the nuptials. He made a point of calling Amy, too, as well as his mother, even his Uncle Roger. He would have called Cassie’s parents if they still lived, but alas, the grandparents were victims of a car wreck many years past, the work of a drunk driver. (Actually, Cassie’s birth mother had died in childbirth and her “Mom” was her stepmother, Roger’s mother.) That reminded me to make sure that I took an Uber to the right location, instead of trying to drive there.
“Want to spare the expense?” Cassie asked me as she saw me about ready to set up the directions for the driver.
“Sure, if you’re sober enough to get there safely. Otherwise, maybe we should share a ride,” I suggested.
“It’s not the worst idea, but would you like me to pay for it this time? You got a point that I’m a little buzzed, just not as much as you. It’s probably not safe and I don’t wish to follow Mom and Dad into an early grave. At least not that way, especially if it’s my own damn fault. I’ve screwed up enough of my life ... and yours, as it is,” Cassie agreed sadly, prompting a hug.
“Let me handle it, babe. You’re still my wife. This will be a nice throwback to the good old days, when we did things for each other. My frustration with monogamy and other issues aside, they were some damn good years,” I waxed nostalgic.
“Remember that cabbie that one time we both got too drunk in that coastal town during our honeymoon. Where was that again, Barcelona?” Cassie giggled as I ordered the Uber.
“Like I’d ever forget, dear. He was hitting on you the whole time, but he always stopped whenever I gave him that glare. The same glare that Dad used to give me or my sister, or any bullies who tried to beat me up over the years,” I chuckled at that memory, but then felt
I did not wish to think of the way that things ended, what with Dad’s fatal stroke, Mom’s passing within two months, and Denise going to the psych ward for a good while after an overdose. She got out, got clean, and was now working with some kind of humanitarian mission over in El Salvador, of places, with, you guessed it, my son Xander, her nephew. I wondered if part of it was to avoid Cassie’s and my rocky marriage and its fallout.
“Yes, it was flattering, though for the record, I was a good girl that time. Besides, he was ugly as sin and smelled of tobacco too much,” Cassie assured me as I sent a text to the Uber guy.
“Daddy, Mommy, Billy and I are headed back to the masque now. You coming?” Amy tugged on me right then, just in time to get another hug and kiss from me, as well as a following one of both from her mother.
“Of course, sweetie. We’ll be right along,” Cassie told her and I nodded, just as the text informed me that my Uber was en route.
We managed to part company with Roger, Father Cannon, and even Billy’s parents, though Cassie noted with amusement that Samantha, Billy’s sexy, Indian mother, continued to flirt with me, with Billy himself, and even with Roger and the priest right under hubby’s nose. I wasn’t sure why, but for the sake of avoiding unpleasantness, I politely flirted back without being as obvious as her. If Dieter, Billy’s very Austrian father, noticed, he didn’t act like it, at least. Then again, he was European, so that might explain a few things.
We nearly missed the Uber, thanks to all of the social niceties, but managed to get there in the nick of time, even holding the door open for Cassie. I was bizarrely a bit too jealous to let her ride shotgun, perhaps because this was a private, intimate moment of sorts for us. It was one thing to share her body, even her heart, especially while estranged and separated. It was quite another to share a moment of this sort, one of catching up with each other and pretending that the intervening years hadn’t ruined our romance. Cassie seemed to grasp this pretty well, anyway, and she didn’t make any gestures to indicate a desire to sit next to the driver.
In fact, during the whole drive there, Cassie wouldn’t leave me alone. She acted the part of the very amorous wife, as it happened. She was all over me, necking, petting, kissing me, even giving me a hickey, much to my shock. She whispered naughty, dirty, kinky fantasies in my ear, including one of a threesome that included me, Samantha, and her, as well as one that involved Dieter, her, and me. My cock just got stiffer by the second, so clearly, the booze wasn’t stopping me there.
It got to where I couldn’t think straight for a moment there, and the moment that we got out of the Uber car (a Saturn, but aren’t half of them?), Cassie was on me like white on rice. She did exchange the usual social graces and such, even flirting with various guys, but she never kept it up long enough to leave me alone. She didn’t exactly discourage my flirting, either. In fact, she seemed amused and entertained by it, occasionally joining in it.
All things had to come to an end, however, as proven when we had to change into our masks. I opted for Deadpool, just for kicks. Cassie made it clear, though, that she wanted to see me in the cellar as planned, hinting that it would need to be before we got even drunker. As it was, Billy was in an apparent rush to catch up with us, as well as his father. I wasn’t sure about that family right then, especially since Billy’s sister seemed every bit the lush that her father and brother were. Were they were really that drunk, though? Austrians, like their German brethren, seemed to have very high thresholds for spirits.
Not wishing to observe too much of this drunken madness, fun though it could be at times, I finally went downstairs, after slipping the check into Cassie’s purse. To be fair, I really was intrigued, in case it meant an open marriage or something really cool like that. I wasn’t sure what she had in mind, but she seemed to honestly think that there was a chance with this new idea of hers, so I was eager to find out what she meant.
That was when I found her, wearing an operatic mask and a very nice evening gown. She didn’t hesitate to hike up her dress, either, looking over and seeing me come. It was quite clear that she wanted to fuck first and talk later, and I was hard enough to oblige her. Finding her extremely wet, I slid my fingers in first, tasted them, enjoyed the flavors of her juices, and then began pumping in and out of her bald snatch. She gasped for just a second, and frankly, was tighter than I recalled, but she pushed back pretty soon with equal ardor and powerful hip thrusts. Every stroke met me with her usual vigor, much more like the strawberry blonde that I recalled, despite her wearing an apparent wig of platinum blonde curls.
We fucked for what turned out to be several minutes, the pair of us getting it on like bandits, my precum adding to her juices inside her lovely, slippery twat. I also admired and even fondled her sweet tush, my fingers playing dangerously close to her puckered hole. Every stroke of mine seemed to bring her closer to a climax, not that this was shocking, since I knew her body like the back of my hand, and I knew that my Cassie adored ass play. She moaned and turned darker, even swearing aloud, her profanity very much what I recalled of the naughty Catholic girl that I married so many years ago, the one that I seduced prior to marriage, of course.
I was just on the verge of a release when I heard steps coming down the stairs to the cellar, and after that, an audible gasp.
I also heard, “Who’s that, Billy? Is it Daddy? I hope not. This would be embarrassing if he caught us like this, even though we’ve every right to fuck and have done so for a long time. Still, pretty awkward to have your father, or mother, for that matter, catch us ... or even your folks,” in my Amy’s voice, coming from the woman underneath me, much to my utter shock.
“Um ... honey, I am Daddy,” I confessed, more than a little shaken by what I just did, “I thought ... I thought that you were your mother.”
“And I thought that you were my husband! Oh, fuck, I’m committing incest ... and adultery at the same time! I’m an unfaithful wife, just like Mom!” Amy blurted, also quite jolted by the news.
“Hey, don’t stop now, guys. This is one of the sexiest, nastiest things that I’ve ever watched, my husband in the role of adulterer, fucking his own daughter, his own married daughter, his turn putting horns on another man’s head. In all of your revenge affairs, I never got to see you plow the wives and girlfriends of the men that I fucked. Now, though, I see a side of you in action that really turns me on, makes me cream my panties!
“Given what I’m wearing, that’s especially fitting. Incest, oh, fuck, that makes me so fucking wet! I feel bad for Billy, but damn it, what can I do? I can’t help being turned on by this, even though it was clearly an accidental case of mistaken identity,” Cassie egged us on, even walking behind me and cupping my balls to excite me further in my current position.
“I hate to say it, but she’s right, Daddy. It’s maybe the bit of Mom in me, but it’s also the way that I always had a crush on you. I could never find your equal, so I never tried too hard, knowing that there was no substitute, anyway. And ... oh, God, it feels so fucking good and thick inside me! I never thought of myself as a size queen, but damn it, Daddy! I love your cock almost as much as I love you!” Amy told me as she squeezed me very tight and helped her mother keep me in place.
“Oh, my, my! Is Billy this good at sex, baby girl?” Cassie asked Amy in my presence, even as she knelt to tongue my ass.
“No ... he tries, but damn it, Mommmmyyy!” Amy started to speak, but her climax overpowered her, and she tightened up so much that my own release inevitably followed.
“Oh, God damn, what have I done?” I shouted as I pulled out of my daughter’s relaxing snatch, my cum leaving a trail down her thighs.
“You did our daughter justice, honey. You gave her the best sex that she’s ever had, am I right, girl? Truth be told, you were always my favorite lover, and not just because I loved you. Looking back, you were always the most ... intense, most determined lover I had, the most willing to push yourself to get the job done, as it were. You always went that extra bit, exerted yourself just a little more, put yourself out there, and threw yourself into the act with total abandon. You always gave more of yourself than any lover I ever had, and that’s a fact, Dan.
“How could you be anything but the best lover any woman could have? I think that some of it was your pride, but also some of it just your nature. It’s the only way that you know how to fuck. Thank you, honey. Thank you for doing that for me, and now for my ... our daughter. Don’t worry. You still owe me one of your great lays, and I still plan to insist on my conjugal rights, but for now, I want to see my daughter’s face as she enjoys the afterglow of her best sex ever,” Cassie encouraged us.
Amy pulled off her mask, making it clear that she wasn’t wearing a wig, either. She turned around and kissed me hard on the mouth, even as her mother went down to her knees and started to suck my cock. It wasn’t but seconds later that Amy joined her there, putting her lips and tongue on my dick, too. The look on both women’s faces was priceless, as Cassie lifted her hood on her Little Red Riding Hood costume to wink at me with unconcealed lust. I had two women pleasuring me orally. While I felt serious guilt at enjoying my own, married daughter’s favors, I couldn’t fight the strong passions inside me at having my two favorite girls in the world service me that way.
“God help me, but I can’t quit this cock! I just ... can’t give it up! Sorry, Daddy, but you’re stuck with me. It might have started by accident, but I’m hooked. Please ... please, Daddy! Please don’t make me give up this cock of yours! Mom gets to use it, and no offense, Mom, but you hurt Daddy a lot! If he’s willing to let you use his cock after what you’ve done to him, why can’t I, his princess?
“I know that it’s wrong, I know that I’m as bad as you for hurting Billy this way, but what can I do? Is this ... how it was for you, wanting strange cock, but also knowing that it’s wrong and hurts someone you love? The trouble is that I love Daddy that way, too, so what am I supposed to do? I can’t just give up Daddy or hurt him, but I hate myself for cheating on Billy!” my sweet Amy showed a very torn, very conflicted heart now, much different from her old certainty of right and wrong.
“Well, I guess that we’re all sinners together then, aren’t we? I don’t like that I’m doing to another man what was done to me, but how can I spurn the love of my own sweet baby girl? How can I deny you what you clearly crave so much? And ... how does this fit into your ideas for our reconciliation, our truce, our reorganized marriage, Cassie?” I answered, speaking to both of them.
“Honey, what I offer you is a renewal of our wedding vows in a special ceremony that leaves room for ... extracurricular activities? Sort of an open marriage, but a little more selective than the standard package. More like the European understanding, the maitresse/paramour thing. I was never as slutty as you think, but I did have a weakness for certain men, and yes, for the whole guilty, naughty side of things. So, I was a little slutty, but not a round-heeled tart, as they say. I didn’t give it out to all comers. I wasn’t a whore. I still am not.
“What I propose that we sit down and discuss candidates for our companions, but as for Amy, I’d like her to be, how do I put this, grandfathered in? I’d like her to be a permanent mistress or paramour of yours, your lover for the rest of your days. It’s a slight revision of the terms that I intended to propose to you, but I can’t deny our sweet daughter the best lovin’ that she could ever hope to have in her whole life, not after you whetted her appetite for it. It was partly my fault, since she beat me to the cellar. Why were you down here, baby, anyway?” Cassie suggested, which was more or less what I thought.
Frankly, she had me dead to rights, since I couldn’t bring myself to dismiss my own daughter or break her heart ... and I seemed to have trouble taking the final step to end my own marriage. I was neatly trapped in at least a menage a trois, if not more than that. Damn them, those lovely women that I adored! Yes, I adored them, despite Cassie’s constant infidelity and past hypocrisy, despite the shocking ease with which my own daughter was willing to sacrifice her beloved Billy’s conjugal rights on the altar of Dear Old Dad and Daddy’s wonderful cock! What could I do ... my daughter was betraying her husband, but she was doing it with ME! It was a serious case of guilt and yet a major shot in the arm to my male pride and ego, both wounded by her mother’s past indiscretions.
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