Mad Monday
by Pan
Chapter 35:
“I’m cumming,” my wife-in-my-daughter’s-body moaned, so loudly I was briefly worried that my daughter-in-my-wife’s-body would hear us. “Oh, Daddy…”
I could feel it. Wave after wave of lubrication, as my daughter’s pussy got closer to orgasm.
As did I.
A part of me wondered if I should pull out. It was an unanswerable ethical question—is it better to pull out of your daughter’s pussy and cum onto her sweaty, olive skin, or should you just go ahead and cum inside her?
Before I could even begin to unpack that, the decision was made for me. Belle’s legs wrapped around me, pulling me down onto the bed. My body fell into hers, every inch of her bare skin pressing against me.
“I’m cumming,” I gasped, and Belle’s eyes widened.
“Do it, Daddy,” she implored. “Please…”
My hips thrust forward with need, as I did what I’d been desperately wanting to do (and not wanting to think about) for the past week. My cock began twitching, and soon I was pumping a load of cum deep inside my naked, flushed daughter.
“Yessss…Daddy…”
Her groan was so loud, I looked up at the window in panic. It was double-glazed…but had it been open, Spike and Lacey would have undoubtedly been able to hear her cries of pleasure.
My orgasm barely behind me, I was suddenly thinking clearly again. All at once, I was acutely aware of how dangerous—how stupid—what we’d just done was.
The window was closed, thank Christ, but Mary’s body was still in the house. She was supposed to be asleep downstairs, but if she wasn’t—if she’d come up for any reason—my daughter would have heard the sound of her own body loudly cumming, crying “Daddy” as she did.
I should have kept my hand over her mouth. Or gagged her.
We should have been more careful. We should have waited until my wife’s body had a glass of wine in her, and then locked the door.
Or, best of all, we shouldn’t have been fucking at all.
But I was starting to wonder if that was even an option anymore.
As my daughter’s cunt twitched around my cock, her eyes rolled back in her head, and a look of serenity appeared on her face. For the first time since my wife had switched bodies with our daughter, she didn’t have the nervous energy of a horny teenager.
Despite the shortsighted way we’d gone about it, this had worked. She looked…calm.
I smiled down at her.
Next time, we’d be smarter.
As I pulled my cock out of my daughter’s pink pussy, she moaned, softly protesting. I reached up and teasingly pinched one of Belle’s long pink nipples, surprising myself.
For the first time in a week, I too felt calm.
She’d been right.
I’d fought against it, tried to reach all manner of compromise. I’d done everything I could to avoid the facts of the matter: my wife, in my daughter’s body, needed to be fucked.
She needed it.
And maybe I had too.
After all we’d done—after the blowjobs, and the photos, and even the sex where I’d just lain there…after a week of being mercilessly teased by the sexiest creature the devil could have possibly devised, I’d needed it too.
I ran one hand down the side of my daughter’s body. Now that I’d gotten it out of my system, now that I’d given her the fucking that we’d both so desperately needed, I was able to appreciate her form for what it was.
My daughter, somewhat unfairly, had a perfect body. Olive skin, huge tits, perfect curves, and a mostly-flat stomach. She was just old enough to have lost all of her puppy-fat, and young enough that her skin was flawless, and her tits—despite their size—didn’t seem to sag at all.
Belle twitched at the attention my hand was giving her, and my eyes were instinctively drawn to her pink pussy. Sure enough, some of my cum dribbled out of her—something that drove me wild when my wife did it.
But here, now, it didn’t have the same effect. Ever since the mad Monday that had started this ridiculous series of events, I felt calm enough to admire my daughter’s body like one would admire a work of art—dispassionately appreciating the beauty, not being driven wild by the sexuality of it.
“You should go to bed,” I said gently. It didn’t sound like my daughter (in my wife’s body) had heard anything. “Text Spunk and Libby, and let them know that you’ve changed your mind, and you’re not interested in a threesome.”
“’Kay,” my wife (in my daughter’s body) said in a grumble, a piece of vernacular I assumed she’d picked up from the kids at school. I’d certainly never heard her say it before now.
As she fumbled around in the clothes she’d unceremoniously torn off a few minutes earlier, I crossed to the window. Sure enough, there was a strange car parked across the road. It was too dark for me to confirm who was in it, but I could see the light of a phone moving around through the windshield.
Not tonight, Sparky, I thought with a smile. No one would describe me as a stud, but in the twenty-odd years I’ve been sexually active, I’ve had my fair share of intimate moments. With the possible exception of sex for procreation (making Belle, and then Ben a few years later), I can’t think of another occasion when I’ve used my cock for good, but that was clearly what had happened tonight.
I’d just fucked my wife into a stupor, and saved my daughter from doing something I knew she’d regret.
Or, perhaps more accurately, stopped my wife from doing something that my daughter would regret.
I heard the clicking sound of Belle’s phone typing a response, but just as I was about to turn back to see what she was saying, I noticed something.
My wife—well, my wife’s body—leaving the house, and crossing the street to the strange car.
* * *