I don't know why I suddenly woke up out of a deep sleep. Destiny, perhaps? My wife, Laura, and I were young. So very young. Everyone tried to tell us not to get married at such a young age. Neither one of us listened to them. I wanted her, and she wanted me. Less than a week after graduating high school together, we went to the justice of the peace in the town where we lived and made a commitment to each other.
Neither one of us had a plan for our future. We just knew we wanted to be married. We were childhood sweethearts. Inseparable. Soul mates.
Her father was a very kind, generous man. Instead of getting angry or protesting our decision he simply offered to let us move into the house with him. Laura's mom had died suddenly when she was very young. She had commented on more than one occasion that her father missed her mother every day. Having us live with him was probably an attempt to avoid the inevitable loneliness of his daughter moving out and starting her own life.
We made her childhood bedroom into our own. Her childhood bed became our matrimonial bed. It was only a full-sized bed, but large enough for two young people in love to sleep in. It was more than adequate for us to make love in.
That fateful night when I woke up, the room was totally dark as usual. Darkness hid the soft, girlish, pastel colors of the room. That was fine with me. Strangely, when I reached over to touch my young, nude wife I found her missing from the bed. I was still nude. We had made love as silently as possible before I fell asleep. Neither of us wanted her father to hear us, although her bed tended to creak if I became overly enthusiastic while thrusting inside her. I remembered her beside me just before I drifted off into my slumber. Her small, delicate fingers were gently, lovingly caressing my young balls.
I arose from the bed in total darkness and slowly opened the bedroom door. I had expected to see only darkness from the hallway beyond, but instead there was a soft glow of light coming from the living room.
It was close to Christmas. The light could only be coming from the Christmas tree. Strange. I thought we had unplugged the strand of lights before going to bed. Her father had retired to his bedroom much earlier than us. Did one of them illuminate it again, and at so late of an hour?
I'm not sure why I chose to walk so stealthily toward the living room. Perhaps because I was still naked. Perhaps, once again, it was destiny. When I arrived at the end of the hallway and peered into the living room, I was thankful that I had somehow chosen to conceal my presence by being so quiet.
The image I saw was indelibly seared into my mind for the rest of my life.
Laura's father was sitting on the couch. Perhaps "sitting" isn't sufficiently descriptive enough. He was reclining more than just sitting on the piece of furniture. His pelvis was as close to the edge of the couch as possible, and his back curved so that only his shoulders and head rested against the back cushion. His knees were spread wide.
He was also naked.
On the floor, between his thighs, kneeling on her own knees, was my wife. His daughter. Still naked herself. Her auburn hair was cascading down onto her shoulders and half-way down her back.
Laura was slowly, lovingly, licking and sucking her father's large testicles.
I blinked hard twice. Were my eyes deceiving me? Her dainty hand was wrapped around her father's very large, very hard cock and pointing it straight up into the air toward the ceiling. He was staring directly at her as she used her mouth and tongue on his scrotum. The soft illumination of the Christmas tree gave me a perfect view of their activity as I observed them from the side.
I had never been so thankful for shadows in my young life.
Laura's voice first broke the silence of their otherwise silent activity. Her mouth released one of his testicles that had previously been occupying her mouth and she said, "Am I your good little girl, daddy?" Her voice wasn't a whisper, but not so loud as to be carried very far beyond the couch. Luckily I was close enough to hear the words clearly.
"You're a very good girl, Laura. I've missed spending our special time together."
"I have, too, daddy."
She resumed making love to his testicles with her mouth and tongue. I watched as her mouth explored even farther down behind his balls and to his perineum. He exhaled an audible sigh as the tip of her tongue slowly, repeatedly, licked upward along his perineum. Her tongue traced over his scrotum and up along the underside of the shaft of his penis. I watched her encircle his glans with the tip of her tongue. His erection overtly twitched at the new sensation.
"You've missed your daddy's big cock, haven't you sweetheart?"
"Oh yes, daddy," she muttered between long, sensuous licks along his length, "It's been too long since I've made you feel good."
I couldn't believe my eyes. I started breaking out into a cold sweat. Was this really my wife and her father that I was observing? I was still trying to comprehend the scene before me when Laura took her father into her mouth and began slowly bobbing up and down on his erection. One of her hands still held his shaft, barely able to encircle his girth, as her other hand caressed his balls.
I never participated in sports while in high school. This was also well before porn was mainstream. I had very little exposure to seeing other cocks in real life, none of them erect, and I found myself in awe of the size of her father's genitals. His cock was easily twice as long as mine. It was much, much thicker as well. His giant testicles hung down inside his scrotum like two large plums. I was jealous. Envious. Most of all, I was in awe.
She continued to suck and stroke his erection before my eyes. I occasionally heard soft moans muttered from both of them. At some point I realized that my own penis had become erect.
I felt no sense of anger or betrayal as I watched my young wife pleasure her own father with her mouth. Was something wrong with me? It was sexy. Erotic. I realized I was rationalizing the activity by asking myself what better way could a daughter express her love to her own father. A father that had raised her alone in her mother's absence. A father who had devoted his life to providing for her as she grew up. A father who, even then, provided a roof over both of our heads.
Her father's voice interrupted the slirping sounds of her mouth on his cock. "I heard you fucking earlier tonight. Does he stretch your little pussy the way I can?"
"No, daddy, he's much smaller than you. So much smaller... No one will ever be able to stretch me as deliciously as you." I suppose most men would have been insulted by such a statement.
He fucks her, too?!
I was too preoccupied by the question to be offended.
He continued, "I've been saving up for you, little girl. I'm going to feed you a lot tonight. Do you think you can be a good little girl and swallow it all?"
"I'll try, daddy." She returned to servicing him in earnest after completing the sentence. The sounds of oral sex filled the air. I watched in awe as her small head moved up and down faster. She could only engulf the first couple of inches of him. Her hand glided up and down along the remainder of his shaft, matching the movement of her mouth around him. I could see his big testicles start to draw up against his body. His hand came up to her head. He grasped her hair with his fist. His hips began to thrust instinctively toward her mouth.
