Daddies and their Whores Pt. 3

2:14 A.M. The girls had finally quieted down and settled in. They’d carried on for so long, my wife resorted to taking a sleeping pill so she’d be rested enough for her 8 A.M. shift. I’d lain awake though, which was normal as of late.

My 19 year old, Callie was home from college for the summer and I couldn’t be happier to be reunited with her. It had been hard having her so far away, unable to see her, touch her, kiss her, fuck her. She’d been home a week and a half and my dick should have fallen off, as many times as I’d fucked her with it. But I hadn’t yet had my fill.

Instead of 42, I felt 20 again, getting hard just from looking at my girl, coming three or four times a day. And no matter what the day had been like, every night, after my wife fell asleep, I’d sneak out of my own bed and straight into Callie’s. Just like the months before she’d gone away to college.

When she’d asked us if some of her old friends from high school could stay over, I’d reluctantly agreed, knowing I’d have to control myself for the night. But laying there, next to my wife, listening to her light snoring, my cock became hard. Muscle memory signaling it was time to go fuck my daughter. I’d even stroked myself while the chorus of female laughter floated up to my bedroom, but things quieted down before I could make myself come. In the silence, all I wanted was Callie. My hand would not do.

2:47 A.M. I gave up arguing with myself. I’d considered taking one of my wife’s pills to let unconsciousness maintain my control. My brain’s idea, but my brain was never making the decisions when it came to Callie. Those were made by my dick.

I slipped out of bed, leaving my wife undisturbed. Wearing only boxers, I crept from my room and along the hallway to the stairs leading to our basement family room. I descended slowly, trying not to make a sound. I could tell the light of the half bath was on, probably serving as a sort of nightlight for the girls unfamiliar with my home.

From the bottom of the steps, I gazed over the sea of blankets. There were four bodies, including my daughter’s. They were arranged like a backwards E and the light from the partially open bathroom door, missed landing directly on all of them.

Callie was in the middle. Her golden curls were unmistakable. It looked like her friends Lauren and Mickie were on either side of her, with Jenna laying above their heads with her feet towards me.

I hadn’t done anything wrong at that point.