I have always thought of myself as a very lucky man. I have a beautiful wife and daughter, a good job that, most of the time, I enjoy and I am blessed with good health. Then, one day last April, I discovered I was even luckier than I had realised.
I had been attending a conference, about a hundred and fifty miles from home. My assistant had booked me into the hotel and I had spent four days renewing contacts and, as they say in management-speak, networking. On the Thursday evening, the organisers had announced that, because of a personal crisis, the speakers for the last day of the conference were unable to give their presentations and the conference would close early. I decided that I would check out first thing in the morning and have a long weekend with my family.
I checked out of the hotel after breakfast on the Friday, knowing that I would be home in time for lunch. Barbara, my wife, worked Friday mornings and would be finishing for the day just about the time I arrived home. Jessica, my daughter, Jess to her friends, was between semesters at college. For a beautiful, nineteen year old girl, Jess hardly went out and it would be commonplace for me to find her in her room, when I arrived home, studying.
The drive home was uneventful, even boring. I drove carefully and kept within the speed limits, but still had time to anticipate the welcome I would receive from Barbara. My mind conjured up an image of her, tall and slender, although her belly was a little rounder than when we had married and her breasts, though still firm and high, were fuller. Her wide easy smile still played sensuously over her lips and her deep blue, almost violet eyes still sparkled. She still wore her hair long, halfway down her back, but the soft russet now had a few sprinklings of silver. She would be dressed, today in a navy suit, with a pale blue silk blouse and black sheer hose.
Traffic through town was a little heavier than I had allowed for and it was almost two in the afternoon when I finally pulled to a halt on the driveway, outside our house. Barbara was already home and her car was parked, neatly, in front of the garage. I opened the front door and stepped into the coolness of the hallway. Making my way through to the kitchen I poured a glass of milk from the refrigerator and sipped it, glancing at the refrigerator door, to make sure that there were no notes for me. The answerphone light was dark and I smiled at the thought that there was nothing to interfere with my plans for a longer weekend with my wife and daughter.
I made my way up the stairs, about to call out to Barbara, and heard a low cry, almost a sob. I recognised Barbara's voice, coming from the open door of our bedroom. For a moment, it sounded as though she were in pain, but with the next sound, I realised that they were sobs of pleasure. I crept along the landing, consumed with curiosity. I knew that, when I was away, Barbara would amuse herself with one or two of her collection of dildos and vibrators, but I could not hear any tell-tale buzzing from the room. In fact, as I strained my ears to listen, I could hear a lighter, higher pitched, voice muttering something. I slid, as silently as I possibly could, along the landing until I could see through the doorway.
Barbara was spread across our bed, her long hair spread over the pillows, gleaming like hot embers in the soft light diffusing through the curtains. Her feet rested on the edge of the mattress and her hands were clenching the sheets, as she moaned encouragement to her partner. I could see her nipples, hard and erect, risen from the firm globes of her breasts. My eyes lingered, for a moment, on the sight of her swollen teats like ripe berries ready to be slipped between hungry lips. Slowly, almost dreading what I would see, I moved the focus of my gaze over her belly. Kneeling, with her mouth pressed against Barbara's neatly trimmed pussy, Jess was slowly tormenting her mother with her sweet kisses. Jess was wearing a flimsy bra and panties, almost transparent, and was busily kissing and licking Barbara's clit. Both were engrossed with each other and what they were doing, so they did not hear me push the door open wider and step inside.
I stood and watched Jess, as she ran her tongue along the lips of Barbara's pussy, her long slim fingers gently spreading her mother's thighs, so that she could swirl the tip of her tongue over the hard pearl of Barbara's clit. My cock was straining to escape from my briefs, by now, and I could feel it pressing painfully against the front of my suit pants. Jess had her taut ass raised in the air and I could see the smudge of her pubic hair pressing against the flimsy silk. The patch of material against her pussy was stained with juice that had oozed from between the tender lips.
Barbara reached between her thighs to press Jess's mouth harder against her pussy, her pale fingers twisting in our daughter's auburn hair. I could hear Jess lapping at Barbara's dripping mound and smell the sweet nectar that flowed between their thighs. Barbara arched her back and cried out, as Jess lashed the tip of her tongue over her mother's aching clit. Barbara was trembling all over as she gushed into Jess's mouth, cumming violently. Barbara flopped, limply, onto the bed, her feet sliding over the edge, as Jess lifted her face from between her mother's thighs. Her eyes were closed and her lips and chin were covered with glistening juices from Barbara's ripe pussy. As she knelt back on her haunches and stretched, I could see Jess's hard nipples pressing against the filmy cups of her bra. Jess was nowhere near as full breasted as her mother and her breasts rode high and firm. The narrow waist flaring to her hips only accentuated the dense auburn bush covering her pussy. Both of them were panting and Barbara had a dreamy, far away look. It was Jess who first noticed that I was standing in the room. She giggled and looked up at me.
"Mom, Dad's home early, "she laughed, "and I think he's been watching us!"
