Chapitre 1306: @-2
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."Oh, god..."
"Oh, god..." my wife mirrored. "Andrew..."
"Mary, honey...I'm so sorry."
I reached down and wiped the semen out of my daughter's eyes.
"Honey, I'm...-"
"Andrew," my wife interrupted. Belle's eyes were shining with a mix of tears and pure joy. "Andrew...that was amazing."
By the time my wife's body returned, we'd cleaned up. Mary had managed to get a quick shower in, though she'd failed to convince me to join her.
I couldn't. I'd seen more of my daughter's naked, blushing, sweaty, pulsating body than a father should ever see.
I could hardly bring myself to look her in the eyes.
When Belle returned, I forced myself to act normal, but on the inside...
Truly, I wanted to die.
The feeling of my daughter's mouth around my cock, the sucking noises her mouth had made, the choking, the gulping as she swallowed my seed.
I knew that I'd be having nightmares about it until my final days.
Worst of all - worse even than the physical transgression - was the fact that it had gotten me off.
Any decent father wouldn't have been able to get hard, let alone cum. Any man with even a hint of morality wouldn't have been able to maintain an erection as his naked teenage daughter seduced him, forced his throat down her cock and rubbed herself to orgasm.
God. What was wrong with me?
"I got the dress," my wife's voice rang out. "Belle? Honey?"
"Hi Mom," Mary said chirpily, our daughter's hair wet from the shower. "Oh my god oh my god oh my god! You got it?"
"Yup! And you know what that means?"
On a normal evening, Mary and I would have made confused eye-contact. Tonight, however, I couldn't bring myself to look at my daughter's face.
I didn't know if I'd ever be able to again.
"Fashion show!" Belle said cheerfully, and my wife clapped my daughter's hands enthusiastically.
"You hear that, Andrew? Fashion show!"
"Please," I said, in a chilly voice. "Don't call me Andrew."
"Sorry Dad," Mary said, rolling our daughter's eyes. "Come on! You know you want to see the fashion show."
"I really, really don't," I said, ignoring the disappointed look on both my girls' faces as I went straight to bed.
###
As I predicted, I had a nightmare that evening. I dreamt that the police raided our house, and stormed in on Belle giving me head. My wife was there, in her own body, using her vibrators as she watched.
"Do it, Andrew," she hissed. Despite being back in her own body, she still had Belle's voice.
I woke up in a sweat. I could feel the sensations of Belle's mouth around my cock.
Maybe I'd always feel it.
For the next few hours, I drifted in and out of nightmares, all of them involving my daughter's body. Her tits, her cunt, her mouth.
I eventually gave up on sleep and got out of bed.
My parents have a cabin, about forty minutes out of town. We go there in the summer; just me, Mary, and Belle. (Ben goes away to Camp instead.) When she was a kid, Belle loved it - camping, fishing, swimming in the lake.
Ever since her rebellious phase started, our visits have grown shorter and shorter. Belle refers to it as her 'summer punishment' - privately, Mary and I have started referring to it as 'hell-trip'. Our daughter's attitude has managed to suck every vestige of joy out of the vacation.
This year, we were seriously considering not going.
I'm not suggesting that Mary's plan is some kind of magic miracle, poised to solve every problem we've ever had, but it had certainly given me hope - with the changes we'd seen just in the last few days, I was starting to wonder if the cabin trip was back on the table.
Slipping into our daughter's bedroom, I gently shook her awake.
"Andrew?" she said groggily. Her eyes focused, then darkened with lust. "Andrew..."
Mary tried to pull me in for a kiss, but I pushed her away.
"Honey," I said. "I need to clear my head. I'm going to spend a day at the cabin, okay? I just...I need some space."
My wife began to respond, but I put one finger on her lips.
On our daughter's lips.
Our daughter's lips which, just a few hours ago...
I shuddered.
"I really need it, okay? Please don't argue. I'm going to leave a note - if Belle says anything, cover for me. Please?"
"Mmm," she responded. She was clearly still half-asleep.
"I'll see you when I get back, okay?"
"Okay..."
###
There's something so very peaceful about driving at night. The streets are empty, the city is dark. Even the car seems quieter, somehow.
Shortly after arriving at the cabin, I fell into a dreamless sleep. When I awoke, I felt better than I had in days.
I spent the morning fishing. I really should have gotten some work in - while the cabin didn't have wifi, I'd brought my laptop and enough to get some work done offline.
Instead, I fished. I fished, and I thought.
It had been one week since Mary and Belle had swapped bodies, and I had to admit - it was working. Already, my daughter was starting to see the other side of the situation.
Again, I knew it wasn't a miracle cure...but it was clear that she was gaining more empathy, more understanding of what we wanted from her as parents.
She could see why we behaved the way we did. That it was out of love.
Similarly, the insights that Mary was getting - they were invaluable. I'd had no idea about Belle's drug-dealing boyfriend, her loneliness...her hormones.
My brain instinctively wanted to avoid that topic, but I forced myself to focus on it.
Belle's hormones.
It was clear that Mary was struggling. If she'd gone on that date last night...
I shuddered at the thought. I wasn't keen on the idea of my daughter having sex. I was especially not keen on the idea of my wife having sex while in our daughter's body.
No, it was obvious that Mary needed help. And so, as much as it disgusted me...I had to help her.
I had to.
Seven more days. For one more week, I could put my own inclinations aside, and do what needed to be done for my wife.
Seven days.
###
I decided to work through the afternoon before heading home. You can't underestimate the value of working with no internet - no notifications constantly popping up, no social media to distract you.
Having spent half a day fishing, I needed to catch up. With Freecell as the only temptation available to me, I was able to power through and accomplish quite a lot in just a few hours.
When I closed my laptop, my stomach was grumbling. There was no food in the cabin, only coffee, and all I'd thought to bring with me was a packet of Doritos.
I stood up, stretched, and prepared to drive home.
As I opened the door to the cabin, I was shocked to find my teenage daughter staring at me, her hand raised, ready to knock on the door.
She was wearing the new dress.
"Hi, honey," she purred, reaching out and grabbing my crotch. "I've been thinking about you all day..."
I gulped.
"Mary," I said firmly, grabbing my daughter's hand and moving it away from my genitalia. "I want to talk"
"Okay..." my wife replied, narrowing Belle's eyes slightly.
"I know what you need."
The sight of my daughter's face lighting up made me pause. For several years now, that had been a rare occurrence.
"I know what you need," I smiled back at her, "and I'm prepared to give it to you."
"Oh, Andrew! Oh my god, honey, yes. Please! I'm so happy that you...-"
I held up my hand, and my wife fell silent.
"You need stimulation," I said, looking into my daughter's blue eyes. "You need stimulation, and...well, after a lot of thinking, I've decided: I can do that for you."
Mary clearly wanted to speak, but I didn't allow her to interrupt.
"You know how difficult I'm finding this, but I love you. I love you, and I know that you're finding it just as hard."
"Andrew...-"
"I'm prepared to touch you," I concluded. "I love you, and so even though it goes against everything I believe, I'm prepared to touch you. Down there."
Mary nodded, looking at me expectantly. As the pause stretched on, she wrinkled our daughter's nose.
"That's it?"
I raised one eyebrow.
"'It'? Honey, that's a lot."
It still surprised me, seeing my wife's expressions on my daughter's face. Her classic 'unimpressed' glare had appeared, and it was aimed at me with full force.
"Andrew, darling, I...I need more than that."
I froze.
"More?"
"Yes, honey. More."
I grimaced.
"Mary, my love, I don't think you...-"
"No, Andrew," my wife interrupted. "I don't think that you."
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. We'd down this path before, so many times in just the last weeks. I didn't want to get in another shouting match.
Especially since they always seemed to end in me losing.
"Okay," I said, with a deep breath. "I...what do you want?"
Belle's eyes sparked, and Mary's wry smile appeared on her face.
Again, she reached down and grabbed my cock through my pants.
"This."
"You had that," I said, wishing I sounded less whiny. "Last night..."
"More," my wife said, Belle's voice thick with lust. "Oh god, Andrew. Please. I need more."
I silently counted to ten.
Mary was doing so much for us. For our daughter.
For our family.
I knew she was struggling. I knew she needed me.
But...I couldn't.
Seven more days.
"Okay," I sighed. "How about...twice more?"
"Twice?"
The tone of disgust was back.
"Twice is a lot!" I said. The whine was back as well.
Mary looked up at me, and I could see Belle's eyes were beginning to water.
"You promised once a day," she said plaintively.
"Yes, but...-"
"I was back at school today," she continued. "Honey. You don't know what that's like."
"I know, but...-"
Now it was Mary's turn to not let me speak.
"I didn't wear a bra," she whispered.
"What!? Mary, that's...-"
"I know. I know. It was just so hot. God, Andrew. Our daughter is so hot."
I glanced down at my daughter's chest, and immediately wished that I hadn't.
She was obviously still not wearing a bra.
"All those teenage eyes, looking at me. Lusting after me. Wanting me."
"Mary, we're trying to...-"
"I know what we're trying to, Andrew. I really do. But last night...it got me so worked up. Your cock. My mouth. Belle's mouth. God, it felt...-."
"Mary, if we...-"
"I know. But after Saturday, after the beach...the feeling of all those eyes on me. It's intoxicating. Have you ever felt like an entire room of people want you?"
I was forced to shake my head.
"I'm in my forties, darling. Belle is at her peak. Look at her!"
Mary gestured to our daughter's body. My eyes instinctively followed the motion, and immediately wished that they hadn't.
My wife was right. Our daughter is absolutely stunning. I would have given anything not to have known that, to have spent the rest of my years without ever noticing what a looker Belle was. She was...she was sexy. I hated admitting it, but it was true. My daughter was sexy. It was as simple as that.
And now that it had been pointed out, now that I'd...seen her do things...
I was worried that I'd never be able to un-notice.
"I got asked out three times today," Mary said softly. "I could be on a date right now, getting all my needs taken care of by someone who doesn't give a fuck about our daughter. But I'm here with you."
"You don't get points for not fucking a high-schooler," I said weakly.
A huge grin slowly spread across Belle's face.
"I know." my wife said, and pulled my mouth to our daughter's.
I gently moved my hands to Belle's shoulders and pushed her away.
"Honey," I said.
She rolled her eyes and balled her fists. I'm surprised she didn't stamp her foot. For a moment, I could see Belle as she'd been as a toddler, threatening a tantrum if she didn't get her way.
"What?" she asked, gesturing around. "This is perfect. We're a thousand miles from civilization...-"
"Sixty," I corrected.
"...and no one knows that we're here. We have zero chance of getting caught. What excuse can you possibly have for not wanting to fuck me?"
My eyes widened as my wife's words sunk in.
"Wait. What?"
"No one will ever know," she said, slumping against the doorframe. "And...I need it. God, Andrew. I need it."
"Wait wait wait wait wait wait wait...Mary. Sweetie. We never talked about..."
"I know we never talked about," Mary said, a desperate look in my daughter's eyes. "But I can't stop thinking about it."
"We can never do that."
"Why not?"
"I can't do that to Belle. I can't...Jesus! Mary, You can't be serious."
"I wish I wasn't," my wife said. Belle's blue eyes were staring intently into mine. "I really, really wish I wasn't."
I stepped back into the cabin and sat down at my desk. My stomach was churning in a combination of hunger and horror.
"Mary, think about what you're saying. You're having trouble with our daughter's hormones..."
"Understatement," Mary muttered.
"...and so you want me to take her virginity?"
"No!"
"Then..."
My eyes widened.
"Wait. Mary. Is..."
"No no no." My wife used our daughter's hand to wave my concerns away. "No, Belle is a virgin. If she wasn't, I'd know about it."
"How?"
"Her diary, for one."
I quickly decided that I didn't want to hear what other methods my wife had.
"Then what do you mean?"
Belle's eyes darted around the room, avoiding mine.
"Mary?"
"What do you know about...hymens."
I closed my eyes.
"I don't think I want to know."
"Andrew, I was...exploring."
"Okay."
"Down there."
"Okay. Okay."
I tried very hard to think about anything else in the known universe.
"I couldn't find Belle's...hymen."
"Right. Okay. Okay. Cool. Good."
"I'm just saying!"
I opened my eyes. Mary was wringing Belle's hands. My daughter's eyes were still avoiding mine.
"She's never had sex, but physically..."
I took a deep breath.
"When we switch back," Mary continued, "she won't remember a thing. She'll have no idea what I did in her body. She doesn't even know it's me, remember?"
"Okay."
"If we were to...I'm just saying."
"Okay. Okay."
"She'd have no memory of it."
"Mary..."
"Think about it, Andrew. If we were to have sex, she wouldn't know. As far as she was concerned, she'd still be a virgin."
"Mary...Jesus..."
"She'd have no memory of having sex, and she'd have no physical evidence. She wouldn't know."
"I'd know," I hissed.
"I know! Andrew. I know. I realize how hard this is for you. But..."
I reopened my eyes. My daughter's body was standing in front of me.
"Once a day. You promised me."
"I never promised that I would fuck our daughter."
Mary looked up at me. The grin was back.
"You don't get points for not fucking a high-schooler," she said softly.
"Mary..."
"You're not," Mary said simply. She sat on my lap and put our daughter's arms around me. "Honey, you're not. You're not fucking a teenager, our daughter. It's still me. You'd be fucking me."
I sighed.
"You'd be fucking me," my wife said again. "That's all I want. Please. I just want to make love with my husband. Just once. I need it."
She looked me in the eyes.
"Just once?" I said, not believing the words coming out of my mouth.
"Just once," she said. "That's all I need."
I nodded.
My wife's expression on my daughter's face when I responded was...well, I'll never forget it.
Disbelief. Gratitude. Excitement.
Arousal.
She didn't hesitate, not even for a moment. She pulled me onto the bed, unzipped my pants, and pulled out my erection.
I was horrified to discover I was hard. God. What was wrong with me?
As she pulled her new dress off, I closed my eyes. I knew I couldn't block out the sounds, the feeling, but...I could try.
I'd seen my daughter's naked form more than I'd ever wanted. I'd be happy to never, ever see it again.
I opened one eye as I felt my daughter's mouth envelop my erection.
"Honey," I croaked. "Please. Let's..."
"Of course," my wife said, in my daughter's voice. Her blue eyes looked up at me. I shut my eye again, before her tits could come into view.
I couldn't believe I was doing this.
"Thank you," she said softly. "Thank you, Daddy."
"Andrew," I said through gritted teeth. "For the love of god, Mary - call me Andrew."
"Of course," Mary said. Her voice was shaking. She wrapped one of our daughter's hands around my cock - it throbbed in response.
Ellen, I tried to tell myself. Ellen, Ellen, Ellen, Ellen.
But even with my eyes closed, all I could see was my daughter's naked form.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes," I lied. I'd never be ready. I'd never be ready, and I'd never be the same. No part of me wanted what was going to happen.
My cock throbbed again, making me a liar.
"I'm ready."
It had been more than twenty years since I'd had sex with anyone but my wife. We've spent more than twenty years getting to know each other's bodies, learning exactly how to get each other off, learning what to do to make the other cum.
I never thought I'd be with anyone else. I'd never wanted to be with anyone else.
So why did it feel so good?
I could feel the heat as my daughter's wetness moved into position. My cock felt like it was going to burst.
I couldn't remember ever being so hard.
Perhaps if I hadn't seen her naked form, it would have been easier. But all I could do as she lowered herself onto my erection was picture what it must look like - my daughter's lithe body, her legs, her flushed skin...
I shuddered.
But my erection stayed strong.
I could feel my wife's quivers of pleasure as my cock head parted the lips of our daughter's pussy. My eyes were tightly shut, my fists were clenched, and my dick felt like it was made of steel.
All of a sudden...I was inside her.
I was inside my teenage daughter.
My cock was inside my Belle, my sweet baby girl.
And as much as I didn't want it to...holy. Fucking. Shit.
It felt amazing.
Sex with my wife has always, always been good. She knows my body as well as I know hers.
Over the last week, I'd slowly come to terms with the fact that my daughter was gorgeous. Hot. She was no longer my little girl - she was now a woman.
My wife's sexual prowess, combined with my daughter's perfect body...
It was the single most incredible feeling I'd ever had.
I wanted to throw up.
My daughter's hands were on my chest, supporting herself as she began to rock back and forth on my cock. My wife's words were coming out of her mouth - a mix of babble and dirty talk.
"Yes," she moaned. "Oh god, yes, fuck me. Fuck me fuck me fuck me. Fuck me, Daddy..."
My eyes shot open at the last word, and dear god do I wish that they hadn't.
The feeling was amazing, but the view...
In an instant, I knew that my days of seeing Belle as my sweet little girl were over. She was biting her lip, her eyes closed as the stream of sexual mutterings left her mouth.
Her nipples were hard, and her breasts bounced each time she rocked back and forth.
Unable to help myself, I glanced down to where my pelvis met hers.
There was no blood, thank goodness. I literally don't think I would have been able to live with myself if there had been blood.
About half of my cock was inside her. Her pink pussy was obscenely stretched around it; it felt as though my erection was as deep as it was going to get.
When I had sex in this position with Mary, she would typically bounce up and down. I'd thrust my hips to her rhythm, and before long we'd be cumming in unison, my seed shooting inside her as she climaxed around my cock.
In Belle's body, my wife was just rocking hypnotically back and forth. I didn't know if the change was because of how it felt, or because it was Belle's first time, and I didn't much feel like asking."Fuck me Daddy fuck me Daddy fuck me Daddy fuck me Daddy..."
"Mary," I said warningly, but she couldn't hear me.
"FUCK! Me! Daddy!"
"Mary," I repeated loudly, but before I could finish my thought, I felt it.
Belle was cumming.
Her eyes opened wide and rolled back in her head. Her jaw went slack, her hands grabbed my chest so hard that I knew they'd leave a mark...
And her beautiful, perfect pink pussy started clenching my cock, as though trying to milk an orgasm out of me.
I wanted to.
God help me, I wanted to cum. A sexual goddess was naked on top of me, climaxing around my cock.
It wouldn't have taken much for me to reach orgasm, to fill my daughter's cunt with my seed.
But I didn't.
After Ben, I'd gotten a vasectomy, so there was no risk of Belle getting pregnant. But still...I couldn't.
I couldn't.
With all the strength, with all the effort I had, I closed my eyes and thought of England, as they say.
When I could feel Belle's orgasm subsiding, I opened my eyes.
"Honey..." I said gently, but my wife wasn't listening.
She was staring down at me as if in a daze. As we made eye-contact again, she once more began rocking back and forth - faster this time. Almost frenzied.
For the next twenty minutes, I stared into my daughter's blue eyes as she came again and again and again. With each orgasm, more of my cock slipped inside her.
Inside my daughter.
Inside my daughter's cunt.
She stopped talking. She stopped babbling. She just rode me silently, her eyes alight with desire, cumming around my cock so many times I lost count.
Finally, she began to calm down. Belle is in good shape, but riding someone like that...it must take a lot. It was a workout for specific muscles, muscles that I was fairly sure our teenage daughter had never exercised.
"Honey?"
"Oh my god," she sighed. Her eyes focused for the first time since we started, meeting mine. The crazed look was gone. "Honey, that was..."
"Amazing," I smiled, and she threw her head back in agreement. She was still rocking Belle's hips back and forth, but when I reached up and rested my hands on them, she stopped.
"Do you want a break?" she asked, and I nodded.
As she pulled herself off me, a groan escaped my lips. It felt so fucking good.
The cabin stank of sex, and as I stood up, I noticed that the curtains were open.
The sight of the woods brought me back to reality.
"Jesus," I said.
"I know," my wife agreed fervently.
"No, Mary - look."
The sun was setting, and as my daughter's eyes followed my finger, a bird flew past the window.
"Beautiful."
"Mary, anyone could have passed by. A park ranger, a neighbor. A cop!"
"Come back to bed," she slurred in response. "We're not done yet..."
"Yes are are," I snapped, picking up Belle's dress and throwing it at her. "For heaven's sake, Mary - if we screw up, I don't just get a slap on the wrist. This will destroy our family forever. I'll go to prison, and Belle..."
My heart leapt to my throat at the thought.
"Belle will know. She'll know what we did. She'll know that you used her body, and...and..."
I gestured between Belle's legs.
"We can't. We can't risk that. Never again."
Belle's eyes were watering, but my wife didn't object.
"Get dressed. We're going home."The drive home was quiet. It took several minutes for my wife to muster up the strength to cover our daughter's body once more. Even after several minutes of driving, she would still sporadically twitch with pleasure.
For my part, I couldn't stop thinking about how stupid we'd been. How stupid I'd been.
Fucking my daughter was bad enough. I knew that the images - the sensations - would be permanently burned into my brain. But doing it in broad daylight, with the curtains open?
Anyone could have seen. And it would just take one glimpse, one rumor to...
No.
God.
We were doing this for our family. We were doing this for Belle. I knew it was hard for my wife, but we had to be safe.
We had to be smart.
And that meant we couldn't fool around. Not even so much as a kiss. If someone saw - if Belle saw...
It wasn't worth the risk.
###
When we got home, Belle (in my wife's body) was in the kitchen. No one in our family is much of a cook (we order out a lot) but I could see that Belle had made an effort. Some kind of pasta bake. It looked like she'd even attempted to include a vegetable or two.
"What's the special occasion?" I asked, trying to force a jovial tone. Trying to think about anything besides my daughter's cunt, twitching with pleasure as she came around me again and again.
Belle sat my wife's body down next to mine, and grabbed my hand. It felt...natural. Normal. Nice.
Had my wife switched back? Had my words gotten through to her, and she'd realized that I was right, that we couldn't be doing this? Had she given in?
"Da-...t's a good question," she said, clumsily turning 'Dad' into a different word. A word that doesn't even start with the same letter.
Nope. My wife was still my daughter, and my daughter was still my wife.
"Oh?" I said, re-plastering the smile onto my face.
"Yeah," she said, and sighed.
Oh, shit.
Did she know? Had she...had she somehow seen?
I took a deep breath, and realized how stupid I was being. No, after catching her former body having sex with her father, I was sure that Belle's first reaction wouldn't be to bake a casserole.
I felt like I was losing it.
Sitting patiently, I waited for her to muster up the courage to say whatever she was going to say.
Sitting patiently, I tried desperately not to think about my erection, so recently buried in my daughter's wet, quivering pussy.
"There's something I want to tell you," Belle said, closing one of her mother's eyes. I remember our daughter doing that when she was just learning to talk, as though that one eyelid would magically hide her from the world, while letting her keep an eye on the other person's reaction. "And it's not going to be easy."
"Of course," I said, my voice calm, my mind determinedly not thinking about our daughter's perfect, bouncing tits as she rode me.
"I just want to say...I'm sorry."
I blinked twice. For a brief moment, Belle's words had actually distracted me from remembering the warm, wet feeling of my daughter's pussy lips sliding down my cock.
"Pardon?"
"I'm sorry."
I hadn't actually been counting, but it felt like it had been approximately eight hundred years since I'd actually heard my daughter apologize.
Of course, she thought I thought she was still my wife. I knew I had to play along.
"For what?"
"I know I can sometimes be difficult," she said, clearly choosing her words carefully. Apologizing to her father while pretending to be her mother. I imagined it wasn't an easy task.
"True," I said with a smile.
"But I know that you work hard. And I know that..."
Belle sighed, and I suddenly noticed a tear running down my wife's cheek.
"...I know that you love me. And, y'know. I just wanted to say...I love you too."
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I was all choked up.
"I love you," I eventually said, more gruffly than I'd expected.
"Come here," she said, sniffing, and before I knew what was happening, my wife's arms were wrapped around me as my daughter pulled me into a hug.
It was a touching moment (literally), but the mood was quickly shattered.
You see, even after half an hour of being ridden by a buxom, horny teenager, I still hadn't come. I mean, how could I?
I couldn't.
I couldn't.
But the images seemed to be permanently burned into my brain.
And so I was...I was still hard.
Just hours ago, my wife - in my daughter's body - had felt my erection buried deep inside her.
Now, my daughter - in my wife's body - had inadvertently felt it press against her as she pulled me into a hug.
"Oh my GOD," she shrieked. "DAD!!"
I gawped at her, speechless. In that moment, the entirety of the English language escaped me. I remembered the words 'buh' and 'fluh', but decided not to bring either of those out right now. Neither of them seemed appropriate.
Before my vocabulary could begin to rebuild, Belle realized what she'd done.
"Uh. Uh. Uh. Dad," she repeated, I could almost hear the gears grinding. "...called. My Dad called. He said Ben is having a great time at Code Camp."
For the past few days, our son had been staying with Mary's parents, going to a special camp for 'junior coders'. Maybe her Dad really had called - that was a conversation I would have loved to hear. Belle pretending to be Mary, speaking to her father/grandfather.
"Oh," I said, suddenly remembering how to talk. "That's great. That's great, honey. Thanks for letting me know. Thanks."
"Igottagonow," my daughter said in a quick breath, and before I could muster up a reply, my wife's body was dashing out of the room.
Fuck. Fuck. As if fucking my fucking daughter wasn't enough, now I'd...
I shuddered.
I'd pressed my erection against her. Against my daughter. The real one. She'd have a memory of that for the rest of her life.
As would I.
This was not my day.
And as Mary sauntered Belle's body into the room, I somehow knew it was about to get worse.
"Everything okay?" Mary said, a smile upon Belle's face. She was dressed in a tank top and jeans.
She looked surprisingly relaxed, and I suddenly realized where she'd been for the last half-hour.
And what she'd been doing.
"Yes," I said gruffly. I now knew what my daughter's orgasm looked like. Felt like. It was impossible not to picture it as I made eye-contact with Belle.
With my wife, in Belle's body.
I just wanted this to go away. I wanted to look at my daughter and see my daughter. Like I used to. I wanted to look at her and see a young woman, about to start her life.
I didn't want my mind to immediately see her bouncing tits, her flushed face.
I didn't want to remember what her lips looked like, stretched around my cock.
Her throat moving, as she urgently swallowed my cum.
I shuddered.
"I have a plan," she began, speaking more loudly than I would have liked.
"Mary..." I said weakly, but she ignored my protest and kept talking. With a sigh, I got up and locked the door.
I didn't know what my wife was going to say, but I was confident that neither of us wanted Belle to walk in halfway through it.
"Tomorrow, I'll come home from school early. We'll turn the house alarm on, and use your office. If Belle comes home early, she'll trigger the alarm, and we'll have plenty of warning - there's no chance of her catching us. If she asks, you can just say that you turned it on by accident. She'll believe that."
She laughed. My wife's laugh, coming out of my daughter's beautiful lips.
Those beautiful lips that I'd cum into.
"I mean, I'd believe it," she finished. "What do you say?"
There was a brief silence as I stared at my wife. Belle's eyes were brimming with hope.
"...what?"
"If you'd prefer, we can say that I turned it on, but I don't know why we'd do that. I guess we could just say it was a bug."
"What are you talking about?"
"The alarm."
"No, I mean...this plan. What are you on about?"
Belle's eyes narrowed.
"Which part of that didn't you understand, Andrew?"
Oh, god. It was my wife's stern voice.
"What are we doing?"
"We're discussing the plan for tomorrow."
"The plan to do what?"
She looked up at me with my daughter's big blue eyes. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair.
"To fuck."
"What??"
"To fuck," she said again. As the dirty word left my sweet daughter's formerly-innocent lips, another shudder overcame me.
"What do you mean, to fuck?"
A smile flickered across her face, and she leaned forward.
She still wasn't wearing a bra.
"What do you think I mean?" she said, her eyes glancing down at my crotch. "Have a wild guess..."
"Honey," I said gently. "We...we can't do that again."
"What?"
The stern voice was back.
"We agreed, remember? Back..." I lowered my voice to a whisper. "...back at the cottage."
"Yeah," she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder. "We did agree."
"Right." I was confused. "So..."
"You promised me."
I narrowed my eyes. Was she deliberately being obtuse?
"We agreed," I repeated. "One time."
My wife responded slowly, as though speaking to an imbecile.
"That's right, honey. We agreed. One time. And I would like that one time to be tomorrow. So when I get home from school, I'll..."
I held a hand up, and was surprised when Mary fell silent.
"No no no no no no no no no," I said. "The one time was at the cabin."
Mary scrunched up Belle's nose.
"That?"
"Yes, that! And then, like I said, we can never do it again."
"But...-"
"And I mean, even that was a stupid move. What if someone had caught us, honey? What if someone had walked past and seen the owner of the cabin fucking his own daughter."
I hissed the last few words, and then slumped back, exhausted. The past few days...the past week had been too much for me. I was spent.
Spent, and frustratingly turned-on.
Mary waited to make sure that I was done before she spoke.
"That," she said, softly but firmly, "didn't count."
I sat up.
"What?"
"That didn't count!"
"What do you mean it didn't count? Mary, are...have you been listening to anything I've been saying?"
"It didn't count," she repeated, and jutted her lip out, every inch of her the typical rebellious teenager.
The typical rebellious teenager, trying to fuck her father.
"Okay," I said. Now it was my turn to speak slowly. "How did it...not count?"
"I told you, I need to be fucked. I need it, honey."
"Yes, but...-"
"I need to be fucked. And don't get me wrong, it was great. It really was. You know I had a good time."
Closing my eyes, I nodded.
"But you just...you just lay there."
My eyebrows shot up.
"What?"
"You didn't fuck me, honey. You just sort of just lay on the bed."
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. After a moment of thought, I closed it again.
"You lay there while I did all the work."
I shrugged, refusing to admit that she was right.
"So?"
"So I told you - this is harder than I thought it would be. It's harder than either of us thought it would be. I get the urge to play with myself every twenty minutes and I picture myself wrapped around every guy I see. Whenever someone checks me out, I find myself thrusting my chest out and giving them sex eyes."
"Belle's chest," I muttered. My wife was really starting to worry me.
"I know it's Belle's chest, honey. I know it is. But I've been in this body for a week now. It's really starting to feel like it's mine."
"It's not."
My wife sighed, and rolled our daughter's eyes.
"Yes! I know it's not my body. But I'm inside it, twenty-four hours a day. If Belle's nose itches, I'm the one who has to scratch it."
She leaned forward, and I very pointedly refused to glance down at her cleavage.
"I'm the one who has to scratch it, Andrew. That's what I'm asking for help with. I need you to help me scratch her itch, or I think I'm going to go crazy."
Mary is a woman of many, many talents, and persuasiveness has always been at the top of the list.
I shook my head nonetheless.
"It's too risky," I said. "Honey, you know it is. It's too risky."
"You owe me."
"That's not what this is about," I said, staring her straight in the eyes. "I'm not a prostitute, my love. You can't haggle your way into making me fuck you. I don't care if I did just lay there, that's not how this works. That's not what it's about."
Belle's eyes were beginning to water, but I pressed on.
"I know that you have needs, and I know that you need help relieving them. I'm going to do what I can to help, but...I can't fuck you. I can't."
I continued, trying not to notice my voice cracking as I spoke.
"I love you. I love you more than anything. And I love Belle. But you can't tell me that the only way you're going to feel relief is if I fuck you, honey. If it's really that bad, if you're that out of control...maybe it's time to switch back."
A tear rolled down my daughter's cheek, but she never looked away. There was a long silence, as we maintained eye-contact.
Then, to my surprise, she nodded.
"You're right," she said, breathing a sigh of relief. "God, Andrew...I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't explain it. It's like a frenzy. It's like there's a thousand ants under my skin, trying to escape from my..."
She gestured between our daughter's legs. I didn't glance down for a second.
"Puberty," I said with a half-shrug. She laughed.
"Yeah. I just...I just want your help keeping them at bay. It's all-consuming, my love. It really is. But you're right. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," I said, and pulled her in for a hug. "I know it's hard."
Remembering the hug I'd just given, I made sure to position myself so that Mary wouldn't feel my erection as we embraced.
I couldn't help but jump as Belle's hand reached down and found it anyway.
"It is hard," she growled playfully. "Let's see what we can do about that..."
Never before had I been so unexcited to hear my wife talking dirty.
"Mary, what did we just discuss?"
"I get that you can't fuck me. I don't necessarily agree, but I respect it. You're right. It's risky."
"Yes," I sighed.
"But what did you say? 'Anything else you can do to help'?"
"Something like that," I muttered. I didn't like where this was going.
"So...don't fuck me! There's a lot of other stuff we can do instead..."
My wife stared at me with our daughter's beautiful face, my cock in our daughter's beautiful hand as I contemplated my options.
I couldn't fuck my daughter again. I just couldn't. It was so wrong, on so many levels. SO many levels.
Irregardless of how amazing it had felt, sex was completely off the table. It had to be.
But...well, my wife needed me. She was doing this for our daughter. She was doing so much.
The least I could do was meet her halfway.
"Okay," I said, breaking the silence. My daughter's face lit up.
"Okay??"
"Yeah," I said. "Tomorrow, after school. Set the alarm, okay?"
"Okay," my wife said back to me.
I knew that I'd do anything to make her eyes fill with that look of love. Belle - and Mary, of course - are the most important things in the world to me, and I knew I'd do anything to keep them happy and safe.
Well, almost anything.
###
When my daughter's body arrived home from school the next day, I was disappointed to notice that she again wasn't wearing a bra.
Disappointed both that she wasn't wearing a bra, and that it was noticeable.
"Mary..." I said, but she held up a hand and cut me off.
"Andrew," she said, moving towards me. "We only have so much time before Belle gets home. I really don't want to waste it fighting with you."
I dropped it. She had a point.
"What do you want to do?" I asked. A grin crossed our daughter's face.
"What's on the table?"
"Anything," I said reluctantly. I'd spent all night thinking about it. Mary was doing so much for us, for our daughter. For our family. It was only fair that I do my share.
"Anything?"?
"Not that," I said, throwing her a glance. "Anything else."
"Very well," she said, sitting on the couch.
I meant it, too. Aside that, I was willing to do whatever my wife requested. I wouldn't enjoy it, but it was what Mary needed.
Well, I hoped I wouldn't enjoy it.
I really, really hoped I wouldn't enjoy it.
"I know what I want," she said, after a pause.
"Oh?"
"I want you to watch me."
I waited for the end of the sentence, but it never arrived.
"What?"
"I want you to watch me," Mary repeated, Belle's eyes burning into mine.
"Okay..."
"I've been thinking about this all day," she said, leaning back on the couch in my office. "I've been thinking about it all week..."
I sat down on my office chair, confused and grateful. Confused about exactly what I was going to watch, and grateful that Mary didn't want me to...
Well, there was a long list of what I was grateful Mary didn't want me to do.
Watching? Watching, I was okay with.
My daughter's eyes never left mine, as my wife reached down and began unbuttoning Belle's shirt.
Obviously my instinct was to look away, but that wasn't the deal. Mary wanted me to watch, and so - loathe though I was to look at my daughter's naked form yet again - I watched.
I hated to admit it - I really, really hated to admit it - but Belle's tits were the finest I'd ever seen. Even in her hay-day, my wife's breasts had never stood quite so proudly on her chest.
To my annoyance, I could feel my cock starting to stiffen in my pants.
A better man would have been able to watch his daughter undress without getting aroused, but...god, I just couldn't help it. It wasn't just how perfect they were, either. Seeing them reminded me of what I'd seen...what we'd done.
What we were probably going to do again.
"Do you like these, Daddy?"
I grimaced at the term.
"Mary, what are..."
"Shhh," she said. "Honey. Please. You said anything."
"Yes, but..."
"We only have an hour, Andrew. Please."
I shut up.
Mary and I had roleplayed once or twice, but it had never been anything particularly kinky. She'd been a stranger at the bar, or a frisky maid. She'd never shown any interest in...something like this.
"Do you like these, Daddy?" she repeated. I shifted uncomfortably on my seat.
Belle was the only person who'd ever called me Daddy. I knew it was a fairly common term of endearment, but none of my previous girlfriends had ever used it, nor had Mary.
Until now.
Hearing the word from my daughter's mouth was...well, it made me uncomfortable. But what part of the situation didn't?
"Tell me you like my tits, Daddy..."
With a sigh, I answered.
"I like your tits, sweetie."
"Call me your baby girl."
"Mary..."
My wife shot me a glance. Even filtered through my daughter's face, I knew exactly what it meant. And so, against my better judgment, I conceded.
"I like your tits...baby girl."
Mary groaned, and grabbed Belle's breasts. Every instinct was telling me to turn away, but I continued watching.
It was the least I could do.
"Do you want to cum on them?"
"Yes," I replied immediately. Not because it was true, but because it seemed like a lifeline. Cumming on Belle's tits...just the idea was morally repugnant, but it seemed a lot more palatable than many of the alternatives.
I wasn't going to fuck her. I didn't want to touch her. And I'd watched my daughter swallow my cum once before; no part of me wanted to repeat the experience.
Cumming on her tits seemed like the lesser of about ninety-five different evils.
"You want to cum on your little girl's tits?"
Belle's voice was getting strained. Despite her hands not going anywhere near her pussy, it sounded like she was on the verge of cumming.
"Yes," I said hoarsely. "Please. I want to cum on your tits. I...I want to cum on my little girl's tits."
"Oh, god."
My wife pinched Belle's nipples. Hard.
A loud groan left my daughter's mouth as she came, her body twitching, her pelvis pushing back against an imaginary intruder. I could see the waves of pleasure coursing through her body.
As instructed, I sat, and I watched.As my wife slowly came down from our daughter's orgasm, she smiled at me.
"God, Andrew..."
"I know," I smiled back at her. "I know."
I began to stand up, and a worried look crossed her face.
"Where are you going?"
My face fell.
"I thought...I thought that..."
"You thought that was it?"
Belle's voice was shrill. She began to sit up, and I returned to my seat as quickly as was humanly possible.
"Of course not," I lied. "I just..."
Mary shut our daughter's eyes. She didn't say anything, but I could see her lips moving - she was silently counting to ten.
When Belle's gaze met mine again, my wife seemed calmer.
"What's the time?" she asked.
I glanced at my watch.
"Half past four.."
"Good," she said. "We still have a little while."
I nodded, my heart sinking. Never before had 'a little while' struck such fear into my heart.
"Now," she said, bringing Belle's hands back up to her breasts, the fire returning to her eyes. "You were saying..."
"I want to cum on your tits," I said, trying to inject passion into my voice. It had been foolish to think my wife would be done after a single orgasm - that may have been enough when this had all started, when I was making out with her under duress, but now...my daughter's hormones seemed to be feeding into my wife's sex drive.
It was like a feedback loop, whipping her into a frenzy.
What had I gotten myself into?
"Call me baby girl," she repeated. It was a nickname I'd always used for Belle.
It made my stomach turn, but I couldn't argue. I couldn't.
I knew where that battle led.
"Play with yourself," she pleaded.
Unzipping my pants, I pulled my hard cock into view. I tried not to enjoy the look on Belle's face when she saw it.
I tried to remind myself - this was Mary. Mary, my wife. She was the one staring, entranced, at my erection. My wife was the one who wanted me to talk dirty to her.
Not my daughter. Not my sweet, innocent, eighteen-year old daughter.
It was my wife. It was like my wife was...wearing a costume. Dressing up as my daughter.
Mary was dressing up as Belle, calling me Daddy, and instructing me to call her 'baby girl'.
I mean, as long as I kept that in mind, how weird could it get?
She moaned with pleasure as I followed her instructions, wrapping one hand around my cock, slowly pumping.
As I stroked my hand up and down my dick, Mary moved one of Belle's hands between her legs. She lifted up her skirt, and it was immediately obvious that a bra wasn't the only item of underwear she'd skipped that morning.
My wife had spent the day at school, in my daughter's body, not wearing a bra or panties.
God, why did that make me hard?
"Daddy, so many boys were looking at me today."
I gulped. Now Mary was putting on a baby voice. What on earth had gotten into her?
"They were all looking at me, and I could tell they wanted to fuck me. All the boys at school wanted to fuck me, Daddy."
I nodded, not sure what to say.
"They all saw my big tits, my long legs. I just wanted to unbutton my shirt and flash them, Daddy..."
"But you didn't, did you?"
Mary shook our daughter's head, a mischievous look on her face.
"No, Daddy. I was such a good girl."
My cock twitched at her response.
"I was such a good girl for you. I know you don't want me to fuck any of the boys at school, Daddy. I know you don't want me to show off my tits for them."
Belle's hand was moving faster and faster between her legs. I matched her pace as I continued stroking her cock.
"My tits are for you, Daddy."
I groaned.
"I'm your good little girl. My tits belong to you. I'm your baby girl."
I was staring at Belle's tits as she rubbed herself, Mary's words seeping into my brain like poison. Despite the fact that she'd cum just a few minutes ago, I could again hear my daughter's voice getting strained.
"I won't fuck the boys at school, Daddy."
"Good girl," I muttered. I couldn't help myself.
"I won't let them cum on my titties," Mary continued.
"Good girl..."
"I won't let them use my hot teenage pussy..."
"Oh god, Mary..."
"Belle."
"Belle," I rasped. "Belle...you're going to make me cum."
Faster than I would have imagined she could move, Mary hoisted Belle's body off the couch and kneeled in front of me. Her hand never left her wet pussy, and as she looked up at me, I could feel an orgasm approaching.
"I won't let them fuck you, because I belong to you. I'm yours, Daddy. My body is yours."
There's something I haven't mentioned. Mostly because it hasn't been relevant, but partially because...well, I guess I find it a little embarrassing.
As Mary knows very well, I have a bit of a fetish. Nothing too wild...I suppose you could call it an 'ownership' fetish. My wife's body 'belonging to me' has always been a part of our dirty talk. We've never gone beyond that - I know some people are into collars, or writing on each other. For us, it's always just been talk.
I never thought she'd use it like this.
"I'm yours," Mary moaned, staring up at me with our daughter's blue eyes. "I belong to you. Cum onto my tits, Daddy. Mark me as your property. Show the world that I'm your baby girl, that you own me.
"Own me..."
With a grunt, I felt myself cumming - Belle's eyes lit up as I aimed my offering at my daughter's exposed tits.
My dick pulsed three times as I came, shooting my wad onto my daughter's face and breasts. Most of my seed landed on her chest, but Mary leaned forward and caught my third shot on Belle's face.
Breathing heavily, I leaned back and watched as my cum slowly began to slide down Belle's huge tits. With a groan, she began to cum as well, her second orgasm of the afternoon.
Well, the second that I'd been witness to.
So far.
She collapsed backwards, laying on the floor, writhing and twitching with pleasure as she came.
When she was done, we both sat there in a comfortable silence. I could feel the guilt lurking in the corner of my mind, but I wasn't letting it in. Not yet.
"Wow," Mary said, propping herself up on Belle's elbows. Her face and tits were splattered with my seed.
I wish I didn't find that such a turn-on.
"Wow," she repeated. "That was..."
Before she could finish her thought, we were interrupted by the loud beeping of the burglar alarm.
"Go get that!" she hissed. The baby-voice was gone - emerging from my daughter's mouth, I recognized my wife's 'business' tone.
"You've got...this?" I asked, gesturing at her chest. My cum was sliding down her long pink nipples, dripping onto the carpet.
"Yes!" she hissed again. "Just...don't let her come in here, okay? It reeks."
Mary was right. I hadn't even noticed before, but my office stank of sex. The strong scent of my seed had mixed with the smell of my daughter's pussy-juices, and virgin though she may have been (in mind, if no longer in body - either body), I'm sure Belle would have been suspicious of the resultant odor.
As quickly as I could, I returned my still-hard cock to my pants, fastened them, and walked into the hallway to find my wife's body staring at the house alarm panel, a confused look on her face.
"Oh!" Belle said as I approached. "You're home."
"Sorry about this." I said, flipping open the panel and disabling the alarm. "Must have forgotten to turn it back off again."
To my relief, my wife's eyes didn't hold even a trace of suspicion. As always, Mary was right - Belle didn't even question the idea that I'd somehow turn on the alarm and then slip into my office before triggering it.
Never before had I been so thankful for the low opinion the women in my life apparently had of me.
We stood in silence for a few moments. My heart was still racing at the idea of being caught - what we were doing was for Belle's sake, for the good of the family...but there was a zero percent chance I'd have been able to explain that to her if she'd walked in to find her body covered in her father's fresh seed.
My cock twitched at the memory. If a genie had appeared to offer one wish, I would have wished that I wasn't turned on by the image of my daughter, kneeling in front of me, her tits coated with my cum.
"Let's go out," I said abruptly.
"For real?"
I think I managed to mask my smile. My daughter's distinctive tone and language, emerging from my wife's mouth. I didn't think I'd ever get used to it.
Fortunately, I wouldn't have to. Six more days.
Six more days.
"Yeah," I said. "It's been a big week; I think we deserve it."
"Da...uh, Andrew. It's Monday."
God, was it only Monday?
"Well, when was the last time we went out?"
A look of confusion entered my wife's eyes
"It's been too long," I pressed on, before Belle felt obliged to actually answer my question. "Pick a spot, I'll take you there."
"The 556!"
"Sure thing, honeybee."
My daughter, unsurprisingly, was much worse at hiding her reactions than I. Pretending not to notice her grimace, I told her to go upstairs and get changed.
Once I was sure she was out of earshot, I made my way back to the office.
I genuinely don't know how she does it. If it wasn't for the smell, I would have sworn that our daughter's body had just gotten home from school and sat down on the couch in my office to relax. I mean, I knew she wasn't wearing a bra or panties, but the innocent way she was sitting, I would never have considered that as an option.
Then, once she saw it was just me, Mary licked our daughter's lips and winked at me.
I was immediately as hard as a rock.
"I'm taking her out to dinner," I said, and Belle's eyes lit up.
"Great idea!" she said, the sultry look gone in an instant. "Talk to her about her peers."
I tilted my head to the side.
"Her peers? You mean...the people at your work?"
"No, her peers. The kids in her class."
"Are you worried our daughter is being...peer pressured?"
Mary tossed her head to the side and gave me a perfect (though I suspect inadvertent) duplication of Belle's most withering teenage glance.
"Yes, Andrew. Tell her hugs, not drugs. Perhaps in a rap, to make sure it really gets through to the youth of today."
"I just don't...-"
My wife interrupted me with a sigh, heaving my daughter's shoulders.
"We don't have time for this, honey. Our daughter doesn't have any friends, and I'm trying to work out why."
"Of course," I said.
There were many reasons I was uncomfortable doing sexual things with my daughter. I mean, they should be obvious, right? Even though I knew it was my wife in there...in the end, it was still my daughter's body.
The memories would never leave me. The knowledge that I'd been inside her, that she'd sucked my cock, that I'd cum on her tits...they'd torture me until my dying day.
But just as bad: now that I'd seen her naked, now that I'd looked at her in a sexual light...it was hard to turn off.
Without even meaning to, before I left the room, my eyes flicked down, and I glanced at Belle's tits.
I checked out my daughter.
There are many words that you can use to describe me, but I don't think that 'subtle' is one of them.
Mary noticed. She noticed me objectifying our daughter's body. She noticed me unconsciously looking at Belle's chest. What was going to happen when they switched back? If Belle noticed me checking her out, even once...god, I didn't even want to think of the psychological damage that could do.
My wife should have been furious. She should have scolded me, helped me train my instincts away from viewing my daughter as a piece of meat.
Instead, a sultry look appeared on her face, and she brazenly pushed her chest forward for me to have a better look.
"Where are you going for dinner?" she asked, her voice practically dripping with faux-innocence.
"The 556."
Belle's eyebrows shot up.
"Oh!"
"Oh?"
She grinned at the worried tone in my voice.
"Have fun with that," she said, and before I could inquire any further, ushered me out of the office. My head snapped around, but Belle was still upstairs, thank god. If she saw that her body was at home, she'd...well, I didn't know what she'd do. I didn't want to know.
"While you're out, I'm going to do some homework," she whispered.
"Good," I began, but my wife continued over me.
"...while your cum dries on my tits. Have a good time!"
I wasn't able to even get a 'goodbye' out before she slipped back through the door, closing it on my face.
What was at the 556?
***
I managed to mask my erection as I left the office (a skill I'd developed as a teen, and hadn't needed to use for many years). I tried to calm down as I waited at the bottom of the stairs for my daughter (in my wife's body) to finish preparing for our 'date'.
My mouth dropped open as Mary's body appeared.
Over the last week, Belle had been dressing her mother as she saw her choices in fashion. At the age of forty, Mary had long settled into what I considered quite a pleasant array of outfits, but - in her daughter's eyes - were apparently dull as ditchwater.
Yesterday, for example, Belle had worn a black dress that I hadn't seen Mary in since her uncle's funeral. It was stiff, staid, formal, and did absolutely nothing for her figure - something I'd been extremely grateful for.
I was already having enough trouble hiding my attraction to Mary in my daughter's body. The last thing I'd needed was to hide my attraction for my wife from Belle in Mary's body.
Even after eighteen years of marriage, I still consider Mary one of the most gorgeous creatures on the planet, but I knew that Belle must be finding the scenario stressful enough as it was. She didn't need her father's lustful eyes passing over her borrowed form.
And so I hadn't been prepared in the slightest for Belle to choose one of her mother's least conservative outfits. It was a red dress that she'd bought to wear to the beach, but shelved after realizing it was far too revealing.
Women's fashion is a strange thing. My wife has worn a bathing suit to the beach - she even has a bikini that sees regular rotation.
A bikini is fine, but a revealing dress is verboten.
And no, in case you were wondering, the dress is not more revealing than a bikini. It's just a sundress - spaghetti straps over each shoulder, a lace-up back, and a hem that ends about five inches above her knee.
It's certainly not offensive, or slutty - my wife just knows what's appropriate for her to wear as a pillar of the community and a mother, and decided this falls on the wrong side of that line.
Belle, it seemed, didn't agree.
"Wow," I said, furiously telling my cock to stay down. "That's..."
"Do you like it?" Belle asked, my wife's face lighting up. It made my heart melt a little - all my little girl wanted to do was make her mother's body look pretty. She was so innocent in so many ways.
And, thanks to me, no longer innocent in so many others.
I shooed the thought away and returned the smile.
"I love it," I said, leaning in and kissing her chastely on the cheek. "You look phenomenal."
To my surprise, she didn't recoil from the kiss. Or perhaps she was just getting better at hiding it.
"Thanks," she said, doing a slight twirl. "You ready to go?"
"When you are, my queen."
For the first time since the swap, Belle didn't grimace at the pet name. Instead, she grinned, took my arm, and led me to the car.
***
As I drove to the 556, my mind was racing. What was Belle up to? Where had this sudden desire to change her mother's wardrobe come from?
After a week in Belle's teenage body, it almost felt like my wife had gone crazy. She had insisted that I take our daughter's virginity, that I cum on her face, on her tits...the sudden dose of hormones had hit her hard, sent her spiraling out of control, and made her do things that she never would have tolerated before.
Could a similar thing have happened to Belle?
My wife's hormones obviously weren't as powerful as our daughter's, but we had a very healthy sex-life. We weren't one of those TV couples, where the man desires and the woman denies - Mary's libido was just as active as mine. I had never particularly kept track of frequency, but Mary would drag me to bed as often as I would her.
If Mary had been overwhelmed by Belle's sexual urges, perhaps the same thing was happening in reverse. My stomach churned at the thought - my daughter, trapped in her mother's body. What if she decided to act on those urges?
No. No matter what, I knew that I couldn't do anything - not with my daughter. It may have been my wife's body, but inside was Belle. The real Belle.
Doing anything with her would mean that she'd remember it. She'd remember me.
The idea made me sick.
For the first time, I was sympathetic to my wife's point. Yes, Mary was in Belle's body, but it was still her. It was still my wife.
Conversely, while I'd made love to my wife's body too many times to count, the idea of doing anything while Belle was inside...it was completely out of the question.
No wonder Mary had struggled to understand my reticence. Her stance was suddenly making a lot more sense.
My wife had used her considerable debating talents to wear me down; I knew that my daughter wouldn't be able to do the same thing. It might be awkward to explain to her why I, her 'loving husband', didn't want to make love to her, but I knew I'd be able to do it.
And at worst, I'd flee. I'd flee the situation, and get to safer grounds.
Not that it would come to that.
"You excited for our date?" I asked, breaking the silence. Belle had been using her mother's eyes to stare out the window for the whole trip, distracted.
I dreaded to think of what thoughts were distracting her.
"Mmm-hmm," she said distantly.
"I really, uh, love you," I said, trying to gauge where she was at.
"Love you too," she replied dismissively.
"I think I'll get the crocodile for dinner," I replied.
"That sounds lovely," Belle responded.
Okay, definitely not listening. I wasn't sure whether or not that was a good sign.
"We're here," I said, and Belle turned to shoot me a smile. My daughter's smile on my wife's face looked completely natural, and I found myself smiling back.
Not my wife, I had to remind myself. It's Belle in there. My daughter.
Mary's actions over the last few days had left me so confused and worked up - even though I'd cum onto my daughter's face and tits just a few hours ago, it felt like my body was still humming with sexual energy. I had to make sure not to release any of that energy in the direction of Mary's body.
I could do this. I knew I could.
Opening the door to the diner, I was simultaneously overwhelmed with terror and relief. In an instant, it became clear to me- my daughter hadn't dressed this way for me. All my head-spinning had been for nothing.
Sitting inside the 556, his arm around a girl I presumed was Lacey, sat Spike.
And my wife's eyes were boring into him like a laser-focused drill.
Mary had been right. This was going to be interesting.
As I steered my wife to a table by the window, I tried to simultaneously keep an eye on Spike, watch Mary's face, and act as though everything was normal.
Which, in a sense, it was. I was just out for dinner with my wife. The fact that our daughter's ex-boyfriend was here was of no consequence.
At least, that's what I tried to tell myself.
Belle, for her part, did a terrible job of acting nonchalant. I guided her by the arm (preventing her from knocking an entire family's meals onto the floor) and pretended everything was normal. When we sat, she made sure to position herself so she could see Spike and his new tart.
I did my best to make conversation throughout dinner, but it was obvious that her attention was barely on me. More than once, I caught her absentmindedly shaking salt into her coca cola. And once we'd finished one of the most delicious meals I'd ever had at the 556, she did her best to avoid leaving.
"I want dessert," she demanded. I tried to hide my smile at the teenage whine that had crept into her voice.
"A...second dessert?" I said, pointing at the remains of the crème brûlée sitting in front of her. She blinked twice, as if seeing it for the first time.
"How about coffee?" she smiled, trying to turn on the charm. But charm is a learned skill - one that my wife had mastered, and my daughter had not.
"You know you can't drink coffee at this hour," I said. "You'll never sleep again."
"Well..."
I could practically hear her mind ticking.
"Why don't we just sit and chat for a while? You said it yourself; we never go out like this."
I sighed, feigning frustration. "Mary, you've barely said two words to me all night."
A thoughtful look crossed my wife's face, as my daughter processed what I was saying. After a moment, she nodded.
"You're right," she said. "I'm sorry."
Reaching out and grabbing my hand, she looked directly into my eyes.
"What do you want to talk about?"
The sudden attention took me by surprise, and I said the first thing that came to my head.
"P...peers."
"Peers?"
"Yes," I said, trying to recover. "Belle's peers. I'm worried that she doesn't have any friends."
A hint of sadness flickered across Mary's face, but my daughter quickly did what she could to quash it.
"I'm sure she has plenty of friends."
"Mmm," I replied nonchalantly. "...does she?"
To my surprise, I spent the next twenty minutes having a real, honest conversation with my daughter about her social situation. It was all in the third person, of course - always 'our daughter', never 'you', but I learned a lot. She reiterated a few things we'd already discussed - her loneliness, the isolation she'd been feeling. She'd only really connected with two people at her school:
Spike, and his new girlfriend Lacey.
"Of course," I said, crossing my fingers under the table. "That Spank kid was only interested in her for sex."
"Spike," my daughter corrected, before wrinkling Mary's nose. "And...do you think so?"
"Of course. I bet that when she wouldn't put out, he immediately left her for someone who would."
My wife's head nodded as my daughter chewed on what I'd just said. For the first time in almost half an hour, I caught her looking over to the snide-looking teenager.
This time, her expression was different. Thoughtful. Determined.
"Let's go," she said abruptly.
"You sure?"
"Yeah," she said with a nod. I left cash on the table and followed my wife as she marched out of the restaurant, not giving Spike or Lacey another glance.
###
"I think it helped," I finished with a shrug.
We were sitting on my bed. As soon as we'd gotten home, Belle had claimed exhaustion, and taken my wife's body straight to the couch. Almost as soon as the spare room's door had closed, Mary - in my daughter's body - had slipped into my room.
Before she could say anything - or do anything - I'd given her a summary of the evening's events.
I'd never before had to distract my wife from sex, but it worked.
"That's fantastic," my wife said, a huge smile on Belle's face. "Great work, honey."
"Thanks, snickerdoodle."
We both laughed, and I threw my head back on the bed in exhaustion.
"I think it helped," I repeated.
My wife lay Belle's body down beside me, and reached out to hold my hand. For the next few minutes, we lay in silence, and I reflected on the conversation I'd had with my daughter.
It becomes so normal, being a parent. I mean - not recently, of course. But over the years of raising a child, it's easy to forget - you made a human. There's a whole new person in the world, and you're responsible for them. For their health, for their happiness.
For their life.
"Did you like seeing me all dressed up like that?"
I turned to face my daughter, my eyebrows furrowed.
"You mean...in my office?"
"No," Mary said, a slight purr entering our daughter's voice. "When you went out for dinner."
"Oh! You mean...you."
"Yeah. Did you like seeing me all dressed up like that?"
Belle's hand moved down my neck, down my chest, and rested on my crotch.
God help me, I was hard.
"Yeah," I said.
I'd gotten better at navigating weird situations, but my wife seemed determined to keep on raising the bar. If there's a correct response to your wife in your daughter's body, asking if you enjoyed the sight of her body dressed up by your daughter, I wasn't able to work it out.
"I guess."
"It's okay," Mary said, our daughter's hand gently massaging my crotch. "I like knowing that you still find me attractive."
"Of course I do," I said. "I just..."
"I like knowing that after this is all over, after we switch back...you'll still want me."
"Of course I will," I replied firmly. "Mary, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met."
"Mmm," she replied, undoing my fly and pulling my cock out. I was too distracted to even think about stopping her.
"...even more attractive than our daughter?"
I rolled my eyes.
"Mary," I said, trying to sound stern. "What are you playing it?"
I glanced down. My cock was out; my wife was holding it beside my daughter's face.
"I was just wondering," she said, her attempt at an innocent look completely undercut by the throbbing erection she was holding. "Who do you think is more attractive?"
"I'm not playing this game," I said, starting to sit up. Before I could, Belle's mouth enveloped the head of my cock.
"No..." I protested feebly. "Mary...we can't."
"We already have," she said, pulling my cock from our daughter's mouth. Belle's blue eyes were looking up at me. I loved her so much. My wife, too.
I loved them both so much.
"No," I said firmly, reaching down and taking my erection in hand. "Honey, you know we can't."
A mischievous look came across her face. Every time she gave me that look lately, a pit began to form in my stomach.
"Answer the question," she said. "Answer the question, and we can stop. For the night."
I closed my eyes.
"You," I said. Even without seeing her, I could tell that Mary was rolling our daughter's eyes.
"Who's hotter?" she pressed.
"You are," I answered, opening my eyes. She hadn't moved - her face was still an inch from my cock. Even with my hand wrapped around it, the engorged head was still visible, and that's where my wife's attention was focused. "You - Mary."
Her eyes flicked up to meet mine for a moment, and her grin grew wider.
"Wrong answer," she said tauntingly, and slowly used our daughter's tongue to coat the head of my cock in saliva.
It took a few moments before I was again capable of the power of speech. My wife and I had always had a healthy, varied sex life, and going down on each other had been a regular part of it.
I missed many things about having my wife in her old body; getting head was close to the top of the list.
"But that's the truth. How can an opinion be wrong?" I asked, willing my erection to go down.
"Because," Mary said, a huge grin on Belle's face. "You're lyyyyyiing."
She was right, of course. She was always right.
Don't get me wrong - my wife is gorgeous. And if you'd asked me even a few weeks ago, I would have told you that she was far more attractive than our teenage daughter.
But until the swap, I had only barely been aware of Belle's looks. And with my wife inhabiting it, steering her young body to reach its full sexual potential...
My daughter may have been the most attractive creature on the planet.
Not that I could admit to that, of course. Especially not to my wife.
"I'm not," I protested, trying to move my cock out of reach. I was flustered - I'm really not a good liar - and, of course, a part of me very much wanted Belle's soft pink lips wrapped around my hardness...
No.
No, I was a good father. I would do what my wife needed, but she didn't need to suck my cock.
She obviously wanted to, but it wasn't something she needed.
"We had a deal," she said, looking up at me balefully. "You tell the truth, we stop. You lie, you suffer the consequences."
From the outside, it would have been hard to describe what happened next as 'suffering'. I know my wife, and I know myself, and I knew that there was no way I was getting out of a blowjob.
If you were watching, you would have seen a regular middle-aged man getting head from a horny teenage vixen. You would have had no way of knowing that behind the blowjob was decades of experience, but I'm sure you'd have recognized the skill involved, even from the outside.
But even as I received the best blowjob of my life, I couldn't truly enjoy it.
Intellectually, I knew it was my wife giving me head. I knew I wasn't cheating, that everything I was doing was completely above-board.
I knew that Mary was the one skillfully stimulating the underside of my cock with Belle's tongue, taking the base of my cock in her hand, forcing my erection as far down her throat as it could go.
But I couldn't stop thinking it, over and over:
That's my daughter.
That's my daughter.
That's my DAUGHTER.
My wife had dressed Belle in the old cotton pajamas she'd worn as a younger teen. They barely fit her any more; her huge tits were threatening to burst out of the top, and her ass perfectly filled out the bottoms. As Mary continued to use our daughter's body to give me head, one of Belle's hands slipped between her legs.
She was staring at me, a half-crazed look in her eyes as she bobbed up and down my cock, again and again. Each time she thrust her head forward, I could feel the top of my penis bump against the back of my daughter's throat. It actually hurt, the first few times, but I was beyond talking, and I doubted my words would have had any effect.
Gagging noises were coming out of Belle's mouth, and a sizable amount of drool was dripping out of the corners of her mouth. She looked like such a wanton slut - giving head as though she was in a frenzy, desperate to be used by an older man.
My daughter's a slut.
Without realizing, my mantra had shifted. It was still one of horror, but I was so turned on, I couldn't even think straight.
God help me, I was more turned on than I'd ever been before.
My daughter's a slut.
My daughter's a SLUT.
Belle's eyes widened as she felt my cock thicken. She redoubled her efforts, slamming her head forcefully against my dick. I think we both knew that we were beyond pleasure at this point, beyond pain. Our motivation was lust, pure and simple.
My wife wanted me to use our teenage daughter's mouth, and I wanted to use it.
I reached down and took ahold of Belle's long, blonde hair. I knew that in just a few minutes I'd hate myself for it, but I face-fucked my daughter, staring directly into her big, innocent eyes as I did.
The only sound in the room was my daughter's moans of pleasure - each time I forced my cock deep into her throat, she would make a sound - a combined grunt, gasp, and moan.
"I'm going to cum," I grunted, my voice strained and deep. She nodded, and I noticed her other hand had reached up the thin cotton top, and was roughly pulling and tugging at her engorged nipples.
With a groan, I came directly into my daughter's throat.
As soon as the first rope of cum left my engorged cock, it was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over me.
What was I doing??
I let go of Belle's hair in shock, and she fell backwards. I watched with horror as another two, three, four strings of semen burst forth from my erection, flying onto my daughter's face, her cotton pajamas, coating her with my seed.
"Yes Daddy," she moaned, and I was unable to look away. "Daddy yes daddy please yes daddy, mark me as your property. You own me. Daddy, you own meeeee..."
Her voice grew high-pitched, and her hips began bucking. I forced myself to look away as my wife had a powerful orgasm in our daughter's body, soaked in my cum, frenetically muttering about my ownership of her.
"I have to go," I muttered. In that moment, I forgot that it was my room, that Belle - in my wife's body - was in the house. All I knew was that I was starting to lose control of the situation - and I had to get out of there.
***
I didn't run to the cabin again.
God knows I was tempted, but what good would it do? Mary would know how to find me, and out in the woods, so far from prying eyes...
I didn't trust myself.
At least in the house there was the ever-present threat of Belle. The real Belle, in my wife's body. At any point, I knew that she could walk in on us - the thought was terrifying enough to stop me from going too far.
Well, to stop me from going any further than we'd already gone.
Instead, I returned to the 556.
Because it was open twenty-four hours a day. That's genuinely what I thought the motivation was, as I drove across town. I told myself it was a logical place to go because it was always open.
But as I parked beside my wife's car - 'the big car' - I wondered if my subconscious had been two steps ahead of me.
I entered the diner cautiously, but I needn't have worried. Belle - in Mary's body - wasn't paying attention to anyone but Spike.
And Spike wasn't paying attention to anyone but Mary.
I watched for half an hour before slipping out again. I didn't want to chance the pair of them deciding to call it a night, and my daughter spotting me watching them.
The situation was already precarious enough. A confrontation would be enough to send the entire body-swapping house of cards tumbling down.
To her credit, Belle didn't look like she was doing anything inappropriate with her mother's body. She was just talking to Spike, just making conversation. At 1am. With a teenage boy.
It wasn't until the drive home that I realized:
I was jealous.
The thought made me laugh out loud.
I was jealous of someone less than half my age.
It wasn't as if that was really my wife, either. It was my teenage daughter, navigating my wife's body who'd spent the evening chatting to him. Staring into his eyes. Flirting with him.
Despite my recent actions - my recent realizations - I have to emphasize, I have zero interest in my daughter. The only way I've been able to get through our recent interactions is because it's been my beloved wife inhabiting her body.
But just as I've struggled with the fact that Belle's eyes were the ones looking up at me when my wife gave me head, I had a similarly primal response that evening to watching my wife's body show obvious signs of interest.
I know it wasn't Mary, sneaking out to spend time with a teenage boy. Of course I know that.
But my lizard brain doesn't - all it saw was my wife (my wife) flirting with a teenage boy.
And it didn't like it.
I lay awake in bed for over an hour, until I finally heard the 'big car' pull into the driveway.
I know my daughter. There was no way that she'd use her mother's body to do anything inappropriate. Even with whatever draw Spike held for her, she wouldn't make Mary - my Mary - cheat on her husband. She would respect the sanctity of her mother's marriage.
She'd respect her mother's bodily autonomy. She wouldn't do anything with the boy. I knew they'd just spend that time talking, nothing more.
Right?
After the car pulled in, it was ten more minutes before I heard the door actually open. She was just thinking, I assured myself. Belle had just had a very confusing evening, spent with her crush, inhabiting her mother's body.
She wouldn't do anything inappropriate.
I listened as my wife's body made its way into the house, into the spare room. I finally closed my eyes, ready to sleep, when a thought struck me.
Now, in case it hasn't been made clear yet, I love my wife. I truly think she's the most amazing woman on the planet - there's nothing she can't do, if she sets her mind to it, and she always acts with our family's best interests in mind.
But it occurred to me that Mary, just a few days in, had found herself unable to resist acting on her desires. She had done everything I'd been assuring myself Belle wouldn't - she'd violated our daughter's bodily autonomy. From a certain point of view, she'd made me cheat on her.
We'd partaken in incest, because she'd been unable to resist succumbing to temptation.
She'd claimed it was the hormones, and if my memories of being a teenager were reliable, I could definitely understand that argument. But ultimately, she'd given into lust, and done everything I'd told myself Belle wouldn't.
Mary and I typically made love three or four times a week. Mary's body was accustomed to having sex at least several times a week.
It had been nine days since the switch.
Just as Mary had been unable to resist the pull of Belle's hormones, perhaps Belle would find her mother's needs overwhelming. And I knew with one-hundred percent certainty that she wouldn't be able to make love to me, her father - just the thought of it made me shudder.
What had she done in the hour since I left the 556?
Had she come home alone?
An image passed through my mind - my wife's body bent double, fellating Spike while parked in the driveway. It made my blood boil, and I gave myself a moment to calm down.
I was being irrational. Jealousy has always been one of my weaknesses - it had overtaken me just from watching my wife's body, watching her be so entranced by another man.
I knew that Belle wouldn't do that to me. To her parents.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone