Two years ago, a woman named Natalie whispered something provocative in my ear. My life hasn't been the same since.
We, Natalie and I, were sitting at a bar in a $200 dollar a night hotel in Somewhere, USA. Each of I were there alone. I was on business, a charity dinner held by one of America's more influential families. I was the 'face' of my company, there to hand over a large check for the benefit of the companies bottom line. It looks good.
Natalie, well, I never really found out why she was there. She was sitting two barstools down from me. When I started to study her, she was on her second beer, third shot of whiskey. She hadn't even started to slur her words.
After I stared at her, for possible more than fifteen minutes, she finally noticed. After downing her fourth shot and finishing off the half empty second beer, she turned to me and smiled. She reached out and patted the stool next to her. I grinned, grabbed my gin and tonic, and sat on her hand. She giggled. We started talking.
Natalie asked me question after question. My name, my age, height, weight. Was I married? Yes. Did I have any children? Two. What were they? Two daughters. How old? 16 and 19.
The questions went on and on, getting more and more personal. Soon she was asking me about my sexual fantasies. All I could think of was watching two women worshiping my cock, and that's what I told her. She laughed at me, said I was lame.
"That's not the type of fantasy I meant." She told me.
"Oh, yeah? What exactly did you mean, then?"
"It's more than quantity. It's quality. It's the place you do it, the person you do it with. It's even the hole you stick it in. Like me, for example, my current fantasy is to be raped by two men in a gas station restroom." She smiled at me, waiting for me to respond. I raised my eyebrows, not really shocked by the fantasy, but more by the ease with which she shared it with me.
Eventually, we were going back and forth, sharing thoughts and fantasies. I didn't know how she was feeling, but my cock was stiff in my suit pants. Just as I was getting uncomfortable, she leaned over and put her lips to my ear. I shivered, and she whispered, "I have an idea."
She grabbed me by the hand and led me to the elevator in the hotel hall. The door slid open and we stepped inside. She let go of my hand and selected floor five. Neither one of us spoke while the elevator moved, but when it stopped, Natalie turned to me and asked if I'd ever thought about cheating.
My heart was pounding, but every other part of me was saying yes. So I told her I'd thought about it. That's when she asked me whether I'd ever thought of screwing my daughter. I was shocked, for a moment, and almost turned away. But my throbbing dick made me answer her.
I told her the truth. I thought about fucking my plump nineteen year old daughter almost everyday for the last two years. Natalie wanted to know where.
"What?"
"Where do you want to fuck her?" She said.
"Where place? Or where hole?" I asked, a little confused.
"Why not tell me both?" She grinned, and I noticed we had stopped walking and were standing in front of door number 517. She swiped the electronic key and the lock clicked. The door swung open. It closed behind us, and Natalie flopped down on the double bed. "Well?"
She was waiting for me to speak. I spoke.
"I caught her in her room naked once. She had left her door open. She didn't know I was home. She had a plastic cock in her mouth. I couldn't look at her for days, not without getting hard."
Natalie smiled at me. It was a knowing smile. She said, "My father wanted to fuck me when I was still living at home. I never gave him any. But I saw the way he looked at me every night."
I didn't know what to say. She reached her hand out to me, and pulled me down to the bed next to her. She took my belt into her hand and undid it. Then she was there, her hand on my cock, rubbing it, up and down. My mind went blank. "Tell me, what's your daughter's name?"
"Deanna."
"Does she have nice tits?"
"Fabulous."
"Are they big like mine?"
"Yes."
I was breathless, my words were coming out whispers. She worked my cock out of it's binding, and stroked it like a pro.
"Natalie?" I whispered.