The next morning, I woke to the sounds of birds tweeting outside the bedroom window, and to an empty bed. It was almost eight-thirty. Kieron had gone to the gym to get his work out in early. As I rolled over onto my back, my mind began to replay the previous night that Brian, my future father-in-law, watched me having sex with his son.
I couldn't believe how excited I was to be watched. How easily I switched into some kind of porn star, and brought myself to an earth shattering climax. I couldn't deny it was the most exciting sex I'd ever had. Not the best or dirtiest Kieron and I had ever enjoyed, but certainly the most thrilling, and all because I was being observed closely.
Remembering the night so vividly, I found myself unable to resist the morning yearnings inside my body. I quietly opened my bedside drawer and rummaged through my underwear, until I felt my realistic cock dildo. Already naked under the duvet, I lay flat on my back, head on the pillows, and spread my legs, ready for some solo relief.
As soon as I touched my pussy with the sex toy, I closed my eyes and pictured the moment I exposed my breasts to Brian, his deadpan expression, the intensity of his gaze. But my thoughts didn't stay on what had happened, they delved beyond reality, creating images that were untrue and forbidden. I began to fantasise about Brian.
I've just come home from work. We're in the kitchen. He picks me up and sits me down on the table. He pushes my skirt up and pulls my lace knickers down my legs, wearing the same deadpan expression, which tells me nothing about what he is thinking, but his actions are telling his story.
"Oh, fuck," I sighed in the empty bed, stroking my wet pussy with the defined head of the dildo.
Brian doesn't say anything to me. He doesn't need to. I place one hand behind myself on the table, and my glossy black high heels on the edge, leaning back, legs spread, exposing my shaven mound to his gaze. At that moment, I pushed the dildo between my legs and arched my back off the bed, welcoming the sensation, deeper and deeper, until all six inches were inside of me.
"Oh, yes," I panted softly, quietly, then I began to slowly fuck myself in bed.
On the kitchen table, I spread my swollen sex lips for Brian, showing him the soft pinkness inside, before I close my eyes and start rubbing my clit. As I masturbate for my fiancés dad, I hear the rattle of a belt, the rasping sound of a zipper, then pants hitting the floor. It forces me to look at him. His cock is hard and thick like Kieron's as he stares into my eyes, stroking to my rhythm.
"Oh, yes, yes," I breathed raggedly, grasping the base of the dildo and thrusting it in and out of my pussy. I was squelching under the duvet, raising my hips off the bed. "Yes. Yes."
The mental image of Brian stroking his cock as he stands between my legs, his eyes glaring into mine, had me moving the dildo harder and faster, desperate for that explosion. As I neared a climax in bed, I saw myself climaxing on the kitchen table. Brian steps closer and ejaculates a heavy load, coating my pussy and blouse in his hot cum.
"Oh, fuck," I cried into my pillow, shoving the dildo right up inside me, legs clamped together, my entire body shaking as I rolled over onto my side in orgasm. "Oh, fuck, Brian."
Once my morning orgasm had subsided, I slowly pulled the dildo out of my body. God, I was wet, soaking wet. Then I heard footsteps outside the bedroom door, walking away quietly. What the fuck? I put the dildo down and jumped out of bed, throwing on my unofficial loungewear, grey jogging bottoms and a sweatshirt. I then opened the door to emptiness and silence, casting an eerie feeling over me that it wasn't my imagination playing tricks. Brian?
If it was Brian, I didn't confront him about it. I had no evidence, but I was always taught to trust my intuition, and it told me that he had been listening on the other side of the door. It sent pleasurable tingles down my spine. I walked over to the dresser, picked up a hair bobble, and looked into the mirror as I tied my long, brown hair into a ponytail.
As the mirror reflected a young woman torn between fantasy and reality, my blue eyes glinted with mischief, accompanied by another insidious smile, just like the one I cast Brian when he stared at my sperm glazed breasts. I never detected him being interested in me sexually before, thankfully. However, I wondered if I had now changed the moral boundaries of our relationship, and if I had, who actually held the power?
Not bothering to put any underwear on, I took several deep breaths before going downstairs for breakfast in only the jogging bottoms and sweatshirt. Brian was usually an early bird, but not today it seemed. Was he in his bedroom, jerking off after listening to me masturbating with my dildo? The thought made me smile, but I was relieved.
I made myself a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal, thinking about how I should act when our paths inevitably crossed. But before I had decided, Brian entered the kitchen, clad in a pair of black shorts and a grey vest, like he'd just rolled out of bed himself. I looked up, trying not to giggle. Had he been at my door, listening and jerking?
"Good morning, Jemma," he greeted me with a smile that I couldn't read. "Sleep well?"
"Morning," I blushed, unable to meet his gaze or answer his question.
