Mad Monday Ch. 05

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Girlfriend

My wife impresses me each and every day. Perhaps that’s the secret to a happy marriage; she seems to be constantly raising the bar.

Admittedly, ‘swapping minds with our teenage daughter’ is going to be a tough one to top, but even the little stuff impresses me – like how she managed to change our daughter’s look from ‘freshly fucked’ to ‘presentable’ in less than a minute, talking all the while.

“Honey,” she said, adjusting her hair and wiping sweat off her…everything. “The date tonight – that’s real.”

“What??”

“I know! I’m sorry. He was…I was…look, it doesn’t matter. What’s important is…you need to get me out of it.”

“Me? Why don’t you just…-”

“Andrew. Seriously. I know we just…

She paused, and shot me a firm look.

“Well, you know. But trust me, in no time at all, it’s going to be back.”

“What is?”

“It! The…the urges! The libido! The hormones. It’s a non-stop fucking loop. I have no idea how ANY teenage girl avoids getting pregnant, or…I don’t know, masturbating to dehydration. It boggles the mind.”

“Okay, so…”

My wife’s words were interrupted by the sound of the garage door closing.

“So if you don’t stop me, I’m going to go out with Philip.”

“Philip?”

My daughter’s cheeks went red, and I realized my wife was blushing.

“I don’t want to. But…remember when I first found fancy cheese?”

“Yes. We had to stop keeping it in the house.”

“Exactly. Philip is fancy cheese. If you don’t stop me, I…I can’t help myself.”

I could hear my wife’s keys in the front door.

“Ground me!”

“What?”

“We don’t have time for this. Ground me! Find some reason, and…and…”

“Won’t that be a little counter-productive? We’re trying to…-”

“Fine! I’ll give you a reason. Just please…ground me!”

My wife’s head popped around the corner, and her eyes narrowed slightly.

“What are you two talking about?”

Balling our daughter’s fists, Mary turned towards her former body. She threw her shoulders back, took half a step forward, and hissed two words:

“You. Cunt.”

This wasn’t the first time.

A few months ago, Mary had discovered a pack of cigarettes in Belle’s room. Knowing what I know now about her boyfriend, I’m surprised that’s all she found.

She threw them out, of course, and when Belle found out, she hit the roof.

The C-word was used, voices were raised, and Belle had been grounded for a week.

That time, I’d been the recipient of the curse word. At the time, I’d been torn between shock and amusement. Obviously no one likes to be called that, but it also felt a little like ‘baby’s first swear’. Cute, almost.

It had really hit Mary hard, however. I can’t help but wonder if that was when she’d finally come to terms with the fact that we really had a problem.

This time, the look on my wife’s face was…well, it was almost identical to the look on her face the first time it had happened. This time, however, the face was being controlled by our daughter.

Apparently she didn’t like being on the receiving end of teenage rebellion.

Belle’s elbow nudged me in the side, and I suddenly realized my role in this little play.

“Young lady, that is unacceptable! You are GROUNDED!”

“This is totally unfair!” she shouted back at me, and when I turned to my ‘wife’ for support, I was surprised to find that she wasn’t there.

“Go!”

“What?”

My wife rolled my daughter’s eyes, and pointed. “Go! Comfort her.”

“But…-”

“Andrew, honey, this isn’t hard. Go and comfort your damned wife.”

“Right. Yes. Of course.”

“If she asks why I was so mad, tell her that I found out about the diary. She’ll know what it means.”

“Got it.”

“Oh, and honey?”

“Mmm?”

“After you’re done…come see me in my room, okay?”

I don’t know if she noticed the shudder that passed through my body as she left. Seeing that look of lust on our daughter’s face…

This wasn’t what I’d signed up for.

###

“How’d it go?”

“Good,” I said, trying to avoid looking at my daughter’s body. She’d changed from a revealing bikini into an equally-revealing set of lingerie. Where had our daughter even acquired such an outfit?

“What happened?” my wife said, patting Belle’s bed.

“About what you’d expect,” I said with a sigh, reluctantly sitting beside her. “She cried, she asked what had happened, I told her about the diary…she did read the diary, did you know that?”

“Of course. I’ve been writing in it every day. She forgot to tuck the sheet back in after she grabbed it from under the bed this morning.”

“Oh.”

I wanted to ask why my wife knew where our daughter’s diary was, but this wasn’t the time for that conversation.

“She probably just wants to know what ‘she’ is up to, but it was a handy excuse. What did she say about me swearing at her?”

“She didn’t like it, I’ll say that much. I don’t think she expected it to hurt as much as it did. I think…”

I çapa escort hesitated to say it, knowing what train of thought it would inevitably lead my wife down, but I couldn’t lie.

“…I think this is really working. We’re really getting through to her.”

“Of course we are,” my wife said, her trademark grin not sitting quite right on our daughter’s face. “Have I ever been wrong before?”

“Napa Valley,” I responded flatly, and we both burst out laughing at the memory.

“Where is she now?”

“Asleep. She had a glass of wine…-”

“You let her drink wine?”

I smiled, and put my arm around my daughter’s neck.

“Honey, she’s in the body of a 40-year old. I think she can handle a little wine.”

The grin returned.

“As the owner of that 40-year old body, I can assure you: she can’t. A whole glass? She’ll be out cold all night. And that means…”

Gently but firmly, I pushed my lingerie-wearing daughter’s body away from mine.

“Sweetie, we can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Andrew, honey; she’s out cold. We can be as loud as we want…”

“That’s just it, my love. I don’t want. I know that…I know that you’re doing this for us. And I know that it’s hard for you. And believe me, I’m doing everything I can. But you just…you already…it wasn’t even two hours ago, and…”

Mary moved one of Belle’s fingers to my lips, and interrupted my stuttering.

“I’m asking too much, aren’t I?”

“Yes! Yes, honey. Too much. Once a day, sure. Fine. I can do what needs to be done once a day. But this is…it’s starting to take its toll.”

My wife thought for a moment, and nodded our daughter’s head.

“Once a day. Okay. That’s fair.”

I paused, waiting for the other shoe to drop, and was surprised to be met with…silence.

“Really?”

“Of course. Once a day. If that’s all you can handle, my sweet, that’s what we’ll do.”

“And…you’ll be okay?”

“I’ll be okay.”

“No…other boys?”

“No other boys.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

I smiled down at my daughter’s beautiful face.

“We’re going to get through this.”

“Of course we are, honey.”

“Thanks so much.”

“Thank you.”

###

Around lunchtime on Sunday, I started feeling guilty.

I’d spent the entire morning in a state of tension, just knowing that Mary was going to pull me aside and try to fool around. I’d been so sure that she wasn’t going to be able to stick to her word.

By noon, I realized that I’d greatly underestimated my wife, and I felt terrible.

She was playing the role perfectly; sulking about being grounded, complaining about the date that she’d been forced to miss. She’d perhaps laid it on a little too thick – around three, Belle had used my wife’s body to sit me down and talk.

“Lovey-dove,” she started, a grimace flitting across her face as the term of endearment left her mouth, “don’t you worry that we’re being a little harsh on Belle?”

“No,” I said flatly. Perhaps it wasn’t the best approach to take – confirming our daughter’s view of us as overly-harsh dictators – but there was no way I was going to risk Mary using my daughter’s body to go on a date.

She’d said it herself; she wouldn’t be able to resist.

“No,” I repeated. “She brought this on herself. Using such language on her mother.”

For a moment, I wondered if perhaps I was the one laying it on a little thick. I’d been saying ‘cunt’ since I was fifteen. I’d been friends with an Australian – they use the word as commonly as conjunctions.

My wife had surprised me that morning with her self-control; my daughter surprised me in that conversation with her maturity.

“Yeah,” she said softly, and I could tell that she was very far away. “It’s not cool, is it?”

“No,” I repeated, a half-smile on my face. “It’s not cool.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes (something I feel like I haven’t done with my daughter since she was in diapers) before she pulled herself together and stood up.

“Where are you going?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.

“Out,” my wife said, a sullen tone in her voice. It took her a few moments to remember her situation; I carefully avoided looking at her as she caught up. “Uh, I mean…out, sweety-bum! Errands. Just going on some errands.”

“Oh?”

Something was afoot, and I didn’t like it. For a moment, an image passed through my mind – my daughter tracking Spike down, using my wife’s body to…

No. No, she’d never do that.

No matter what, I knew that my daughter would never do that.

“I’ve got some errands to go on as well,” I said, standing up casually. “Maybe I’ll come with you.”

“No!” my wife’s mouth squeaked. Belle took a second, trying to act calmly. “No. No, no need for that.”

“Well, where are you going? Maybe we’re not going in the same direction.”

“Definitely not!” Belle replied, nervously twisting my wife’s top. “Opposite direction.”

“Mary,” cihangir escort I said slowly. Some would say ‘patronizingly’. “How do you know? I haven’t told you where I’m going.”

With a sigh, my wife’s body collapsed back in the chair.

“Fine,” she said. “You caught me!”

I stifled a laugh. This was the exact response, in both words and movement, my daughter had once given me when she was nine.

“Hmmm?”

“Belle asked me to head up to the outlet mall for her.”

“What? Why?”

“There’s a dress on sale,” she said.

“The outlet mall is forty minutes each way,” I said, scratching my head. “Why would…”

Oh.

Suddenly, my wife’s good behavior all morning made a lot more sense.

“You don’t understand,” Belle huffed, rolling my wife’s eyes. “It’s a Hot Kiss dress, and it’s more than fifty-percent off. It’s so cute, and…”

“Why doesn’t she just go?” I asked, and answered the question at the same time as my wife.

“‘She’s grounded’. Right.”

I sighed.

“I agree she should be grounded,” Belle said, surprising me again. I smiled at her, and she turned a poor imitation of my wife’s best puppy-dog eyes in my direction. “What she did was…”

She swallowed.

“It was across the line.”

My eyebrows shot up.

“But she was so good this morning.”

Yes, I thought. And now I know why.

“And the dress is so cute…”

I waved away the dreamy expression in my wife’s tone.

“Go,” I said with a sigh. “My errands are in the opposite direction anyway.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” she gushed, before blinking twice and composing herself. “I mean. Uh…”

“You’re excited,” I said with a warm smile. “It’s fine. I’m sure she’s going to look great in it.”

“She will!”

The look of excitement made me nervous, but I knew better than to stand between a woman and a discounted dress.

“Drive safe, okay?”

“Bye,” she said, grabbing the keys and headed for the door. “Love you!”

“I love you too,” I said automatically, before realizing what she’d just said.

It had been literally years since our daughter told us that she loved us. We know she does, of course – we may be flawed people, but we’re good parents. All Belle’s life, we’ve never shown her anything but love and affection.

But to hear her say it, even using my wife’s mouth?

It was working. My wife’s crazy plan…was working.

Whatever the costs, it was worth it.

So it was with a spring in my step that I ascended the stairs, excited to tell Mary the good news.

I opened Belle’s bedroom door without knocking, and was met with the sight of my teenage daughter’s naked body, writhing around on the bed as she touched herself.

“Belle!” I exclaimed, shocked enough to forget who I was talking to. Not twenty minutes ago, my daughter’s body had been in the living room, fully clothed, playing with her phone.

“Andrew,” she moaned, turning to look at me, her eyes burning with lust. “Please…”

I should have turned away. I wanted to turn away. But the sight…the smell…

I was overwhelmed. Frozen in place, like a deer in the headlights.

“Please, Andrew,” my wife panted, using my daughter’s hand to pull on her long, pink nipple. I didn’t want to know it was long and pink. That was something I never, ever needed to know.

“I want to suck your cock. Let me suck your cock. Oh, god. Please. Please, honey…I need it.”

“Mary, no!”

My reaction was immediate and instinctive…but despite my harsh tone, my wife didn’t miss a beat.

“Once a day,” she pleaded, using – to my horror – our daughter’s ‘cute’ voice. “Once a day, Andrew. You promised.”

I realized I was still staring at my teenage daughter’s exposed flesh, and turned away.

“I promised once a day, but…honey, there have to be limits! You know there do.”

“I need it,” she repeated. “Honey, please. Please…I need it.”

“No,” I said firmly. “Love, no. I can’t. We can’t. Please, try to understand…”

“Andrew…”

I could hear the desperation in her voice, but worse; I could hear the wet sound of flesh on flesh.

Even as she was pleading for me to let her suck her cock, my wife hadn’t stopped playing with our daughter’s wetness.

From the sound of it, she hadn’t even slowed down.

“You were very good this morning,” I said, and she let out a loud moan in response.

“I’m so good,” she gasped. “Yes! Oh god, yes…I’m your good girl.

“I’m your good girl…”

“Mary!”

I turned in shock, preparing to let my wife have it, to inform her just how unacceptable this behavior was.

I was met with the sight of my daughter’s legs, widely spread, as Mary showed off the pinkness between them.

“Oh, god.”

“Look at me,” Mary panted, and – god forgive me – I did. My daughter’s hand sped up, and her eyes bored into mine. “Look at me…”

For the umpteenth time in six days, I was forced to watch my daughter’s orgasm. esenyurt escort I wish I’d looked away, but I was transfixed. My wife’s skilful motions, my daughter’s soft, small hand.

I watched as Belle’s body twitched in orgasm, as her youthful legs were used to push her pelvis up, thrusting against the air, as she watched me watching her.

When she was done, I wanted to be sick.

“Mary,” I gasped.

“Oh, god, Andrew.”

“Mary, we…we can’t.”

At some point, I’d shut my eyes. When I reopened them, my daughter was standing in front of me, staring up at me. Mary had grabbed the blanket off our daughter’s bed to cover her borrowed body, and Belle’s wide blue eyes were full of love, full of concern.

“Andrew,” she said softly. “…we already have.”

“No…”

Mary raised Belle’s hands to my cheeks, allowing the blanket to drop. Her firm tits with their long, hard, pink nipples came into view.

“We’re in this together, my sweet.”

A part of me wanted to cry.

“Now please. Please. Let me take care of this…”

My eyes widened as Mary skillfully undid my fly, and Belle’s hands removed my erection from my pants.

I hadn’t even noticed I was hard.

“That’s…it’s…”

Mary ignored my unintelligible rasping, and made full use of her twenty years of experience.

“I’ve been so good all morning,” she said softly, and I suddenly realized it wasn’t love and concern in her eyes.

It was lust.

Even after what sounded like an earth-shattering orgasm, my wife was still horny.

She still needed me.

“I’ve been so good all morning,” she repeated. “Now please, reward me.”

I wanted to refuse, but my lips wouldn’t move.

“Reward your good girl,” she said, and slowly dropped to her knees. “I need it…”

A stronger man than I would have pushed her away. A stronger man would have walked out of that room.

Mary’s a good wife, and an even better mother. I know she would have found some way of overcoming the hormones, of making her way through the two weeks without…

…without taking my cock in our daughter’s mouth.

If I were a better person, a better husband, a better father, I would have walked away. But I’d just seen my daughter’s pink pussy clench in orgasm. I was in shock.

I was in shock, and more turned on than I was comfortable with.

And my wife needed me.

I didn’t make a sound as Mary slowly stroked our daughter’s hands up and down my erection. I just watched, unable to move, barely able to breathe, as my daughter’s wet hands wrapped around my girth.

My wife’s attention wasn’t on my face. She was staring at my cock, enthralled. It was a cock she’d seen hundreds of times before, but now…she looked fascinated

Awed.

With a soft moan, she began to worship it.

My daughter’s lips moved to the head of my cock, and she spent several minutes just kissing it. Now my wife was the unintelligible one – she was whispering what sounded like gibberish, terms of endearment, with the occasional “Yes”, “Please”, and one or two “Good girl”s thrown in.

When my daughter’s mouth opened, and my wife filled it with half of my cock – that’s when I really should have done something.

Instead, I groaned.

It’s an unusual sensation, to have your cock be truly adored. It was obvious that my wife had been fantasizing about it for days and days – Belle’s eyes went hazy as it entered her mouth, and her entire face lit up.

She continued to swallow as much as she could, and when her lips reached the base, she looked up at me proudly.

A tear ran down her face. God help me, it made me throb.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Mary pulled my teenager daughter’s face back, until just the tip of my erection was resting on her lips.

“You have no idea how much I needed this,” she whispered.

For the second time that night, I was repulsed and unwillingly aroused. With a ferocity that genuinely startled me, Mary moved our daughter’s mouth down until it had once more engulfed my entire erection. Concern flashed through my body as she made a strong gagging sound – the concern faded as she pulled back and did it again, and again, and again.

The single tear was met by others. Mary sounded like she was literally choking our daughter on my cock. It was terrifying.

Terrifying, and far hotter than I wanted it to be.

It wasn’t until she’d aggressively swallowed my cock three times that I noticed – one of our daughter’s hands was on the base of my cock, while the other was between her legs.

Mary was getting off as Belle choked on my cock, mascara running down her face. Her lipstick was smeared on my cock – she looked like a porn star. My daughter looked like a dirty teenage whore.

“I’m cumming,” I gasped, and Belle’s eyes widened. I heard a buzzing sound – I have no idea when Mary had grabbed a vibrator, but even over the choking noise, I could hear the persistent hum as she held it against our daughter’s clit.

With a loud groan, I thrust forward. I’d intended to be gentle, but in the heat of the moment, I lost control. As I pumped a load of my semen down my daughter’s throat, a gurgling sound joined the gagging and humming sounds, and I watched as Belle reached her second orgasm in fifteen minutes, an additional string of semen flying out of my cock, mixing with her smeared makeup.

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