When I Caught My Husband with my Daughter

When Rekha came home early from her work at the bank that evening, sekha walked in on a dream and a nightmare. It is hard to tell, because laying nude on her dining table was her very sexy eighteen-year-old daughter – naked, wearing an iPod head phones and grooving, while Rekha’s brand new husband sat in a chair and ate her pussy like a famished pussy hunter with pussy thighs clamped to his ears, out hunting pussy with no clothes on. Looked like a dream, but this was her worst nightmare.

Neither of them could hear her nor see her. Radha had her eyes closed and Mohan had a face full of damn fine pussy. Rekha came right up to stand beside Mohan and just stood there watching a most amazing sight. Sure looked good, and the stuff needed to shave that pussy was off to the side, no longer needed. Rekha looked to his crotch and saw a wet, limp dick. Fucked her, too – damn! Shaved her, fucked her, and now he was eating her. She looked like a girl lying in teenage girl Heaven. There was nothing on that girl that didn’t belong in Heaven. Mohan never stood a chance.

Rekha watched several minutes, then had enough, and turned off the TV. That got the little bitch’s attention. She didn’t freak. She turned it back on and settled back for more. Rekha thought she might and had thought ahead to her next action, which was unplug and throw in out of the window. Had it actually gone in, that would have been great theatre, but she was way off and threw it into a window that would cost ten times more than the TV – damn!

That got Mohan’s and the pussy’s attention. He popped out and went wide-eyed at seeing his wife. No husband was ever more busted. The girl took the headset off, laid it aside, and got up on her elbows with her pussy as wide as she could make it. Both heels were at her butt, knees flat, making a pussy that commanded eyes and held them. This was another one of her god damn sexual power plays, and she had some nerve pulling one now.

Rekha had nothing prepared for a bold, vulgar, effective, sexual power play like that. Radha hit the fireplace with that one, right dead in the ashes – slam dunk. Rekha had to admit, that when it came to sexual power plays, the mother was hopelessly out-matched. She and Radha had always had a love/hate relationship based on power struggles that became sexual when Radha became sexually powerful. At eighteen, she was now awesome, knew what her strength was, and knew how to use her strength.

This whole scene was staged to be the final showdown in a long war with no winners, with the little adversary losing all the battles and seemingly growing stronger each year, and the bigger more powerful adversary winning every battle but growing war weary, losing the will to fight battles and wage war. The ally she signed on to help wage this war with looked whipped and no match for that adversary. He’d be more hindrance than help. No battlefield commander needs help shaving the enemy. This was the Vietnam War waged on the home front – in a home – on the dining table battlefield where so many battles had been fought.

There was the battle to say fuck at the dinner table.

There was the battle to eat naked at the dinner table.

There was the battle to eat naked while masturbating at the dinner table.

There was the battle to eat naked while masturbating with bare feet on the table at the dinner table.

There was the battle to eat naked while masturbating with food with bare feet on the table at the dinner table.

There was the battle to sit on a stepfather’s lap and nurse him at the dinner table.

There was the battle to get under the table and suck off a stepfather under the dinner table while naked and masturbating with food.

These battles were all won by the mother, but not without the battle taking it’s toll or the victory accomplishing anything, not when the defeated returns the next night and does it again only adding something else to fight over and be grounded for eternity for. Poor Mohan was one battle weary ally after just a few family dinners. The call to arms, “Dinner is ready,” always gave him an erection. He brought his gun with a full basic load, but when that sexy naked kid sucked his gun off with her mother yelling at her to stop doing that to her husband, he knew the war was a hopeless cause, a battle of attrition.

He sat there and pumped the enemy full of cum. That’ll show ’em, and she got grounded for life again. In response, her mother got a very nasty kiss, apparently French and vulgar. Mohan thought Radha swallowed his load, evidently not – not by the look on the General’s face held in strong enemy hands. The enemy sure could kiss, and the commander sure could make great disgusted faces while getting her teeth and gums white-washed. That girl was in a lot of trouble. There would be no dessert for that enemy bitch – not after that three-minute kiss.

Not only did she get no dessert, she was sent straight to bed. She went straight to the master bed and masturbated in the master bed with the master looking on and furious, mostly at the husband looking on with another loaded gun at the ready like a second-string lineman saying, “Send me in, Coach.”

This all happened the night before, and that battle was never decided. She would not get out of the bed, and the wise allied commander wisely decided not to fight any battles on the enemy terms with the enemy holding all the high ground. No, that commander was not that stupid. Her ally was. He was very stupid, and the enemy did make that battlefield look awfully inviting.

With the widest pussy she could get into, and while playing with her heavy weapon, Radha teased, “Let’s not fight. Come to bed. I want you both. Mother, I love the way you kiss. I want you to kiss me here… right here, right where I pee, above the place where I shit… not this hole, and not the one right above it, but right here, at this tiny hole. You can nurse on me there while your hubby nurses on my perky breasts. I want you both to love me. Come to bed.”

Mohan said while stroking his gun, “Rekha, what she says makes sense. I mean, it’s foolish for the three of us to be fighting. We should all get along and learn to love one another. We’re family. We should get in the bed and love her.”

Rekha was not about to fall for the old “love me” ploy, but she could see that her comrade had. Rekha disengaged and called out from the door, “Come, Mohan… Mohan… MOHAN! God damnit, Mohan, you get your ass out of there, right god damn now! I MEAN IT!”

They left, but this battle was not over. The enemy was waiting for a response and Mohan was wondering what it might be, but that pussy sure looked good like that. Together they studied that pussy. That was one very sexy pussy. The commander had to agree.

Rekha finally said, “All right, Radha, you have made your point. We all know who has the lovelier pussy, the sexier pussy, the younger pussy, the tighter pussy, and now the pussy with the fewest pubic hairs to hide it’s near pussy perfection appearance. You do have a very lovely pussy between two very sexy legs. I am not up to any more sexual power plays. I cannot compete with pussy that young and that sexy. I’m sure that is the point you want to get across. You did. Now, please put it away and get down off my dining table. Let’s all sit down like mature adults and talk peace.”

She smiled and said, “I would like that, but before we talk peace, I would like to explore this pussy issue in greater depth. I wanted a second opinion, and you did back up everything your husband said about this pussy. There is one thing you neglected to mention. I’d like a second opinion on that.”

Rekha took a deep breath of air and let it out as slow frustration, then folded her arms and said, “What?”

“You never said how my pussy tastes. Your husband says this is the ultimate in eating pussy, pussy that is fit to eat – eating pussy. I’d like to know what you think.”

“Radha, please don’t do this. I do not want to fight with you anymore. I know he had sex with you, and I know he will have sex with you any time you offer him this far superior pussy. Mohan would be a fool not to, and I know he is no fool. I am waving the white flag. I will not stand in his way, nor yours. Honey, you mother is whipped. I am symbolically kissing your ass on my knees. Please don’t make me lick your pussy, too.”

“You can sit and do it. [Mohan got up and offered Rekha his seat] I don’t want you to kneel. I don’t want you to symbolically kiss anything on me – not symbolically. When we talk peace, we can discuss how and what you will lick and kiss. Right now, all I want is a second opinion on how my pussy tastes.”

Rekha plopped down in the seat, because she needed a seat. Now, she had to talk right over the subject pussy as she said, “Radha, why must you humiliate me this way?”

“Humiliate you! Mom, I’m shocked. Humiliate? Do you think my pussy is so revolting and disgusting that placing your face in it is an act of humiliation? Do you think this is some sort of sexual power play intended to put you in your place once and for all so that we can get along like the best of friends as we really are and should be, each knowing her place, happy in her place, loving her place, because in the absence of all conflict, there will be nothing but love and affection between us, mother and daughter, best friends, lovers, soul mates. Is that what you are thinking, Mom, that I have to be the lover on top, and that you must be the lover on her knees kissing what I please. Are you seeing some sort of grand power play when you look into my wide open cunt.”

It was after she used her hands to make it one. That spelled out the surrender terms nicely, much like the French kiss after a blowjob. That took some mulling over, but Radha did paint a pleasant picture of the two of them getting along in peace and harmony, and what was there on Radha that Rekha wouldn’t kneel and kiss to please her – certainly nothing within the lips of her cunt. Even the asshole looked pretty damn good. The full-of-herself bitch did not have a nasty place on her.

So, with that in mind, Rekha came in and delivered a series of pussy licks and one good, three-minute, deep, face-full-in-the-cunt, pressing hard and grinding, French kiss in the fuck hole for good measure, than sat back with a wet smile and said, “That is a very tasty pussy, a good eating pussy.”

“If you really mean that, you must want to suck on it.”

Rekha half expected she might want to get off after a French kiss like that, so she came in and took a big mouthful of clit and began doing the sucking and clit-tongue wrestle thing. She thought she was doing great until her mouth filled with warm piss.


“Mother, you now have a mouthful of your pride in liquid form, and you have two choices. That bulging mouthful of my piss symbolically represents all of your pride, every drop you got, all in your mouth. Now, you can demonstrate your pride by spitting it all in my face and slapping my impudent cunt, which will start World War III… OR, you can opt for peace with honor by simply swallowing your pride, every ounce, every drop while the world looks on. I am assuming that Mohan and I are your world. Any pride will only get in the way of our continued relations from here on. We are looking on to see what you will do with a mouthful of my piss. Well, what’s it gonna be – pleasant peace or TOTAL ALL-OUT WAR?”

She did have a way with words, and her piss wasn’t all that bad, so with the world looking on, the great and mighty United States of America gulped down several swallows of Ho Che Minh piss, and the whole world went, “WOW! I thought for sure Lady Liberty was going to nuke that little sandal-shuffling, rice-propelled, paddy-plodding, pig farmer and turn his country into a toxic waste dump for the free world. Fuck! Now, what are we going to do with all of this toxic waste. Shit, may as well give it to Uncle Sam. That prideless motherfucker will eat anything.”

Yes, Radha and Mohan were astonished, but she did swallow all of her pride, and with all of that out of the way, Radha felt free to relax and enjoy a leisurely piss in her mother’s mouth while enjoying a good suck job. Too bad the TV was broke… but, maybe it wasn’t. The curtain absorbed much of the impact and kept the radio indoors. Radha said, “Hey, Mohan, get the radio and let me see if it still works. If it don’t, put it up her ass.”

Damn thing didn’t work, but he did manage to get it all up his wife’s ass. Rekha was so glad she went for the iPod instead of the Walkman. That would have really hurt, but don’t you know she would have still pulled her cheeks apart for it, because that woman had no pride, only peace with honor.


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