It was well after midnight when the Wife woke me from a dead sleep. "Honey, what is that? Do you hear that?"
Cloudy, and barely coherent I replied, "I don't hear anything." It had been a long week, and I finally got the opportunity to catch up on some sleep only to be abruptly woken up by my wife with supersonic hearing. If the wind blows ever so slightly she immediately thinks there's a prowler.
"Get up. Go check it out!" she yelled in a whisper.
Reluctantly I drew back the covers and sat up in bed, taking a moment to listen for anything out of the ordinary. I don't hear a thing. I desperately wanted to lay back down and resume my sleep.
"I won't be able to sleep until I know that you are making sure we are all safe in this house," she pleaded, holding the top sheet up to her neck covering the thin, skimpy material she was wearing for pajamas. We've been married just over thirty years now, but Sharon hasn't changed much in that time. Sure, she's matured. But she has overall kept her figure, and her breasts are as ripe and perky as the day we met. She's just as much of a scaredy cat as she's ever been. And I know if I don't get up and investigate she will keep me awake all night.
Groggy, and sluggishly I arose from the bed, scratching and tugging at my groin as I slowly moved across the bedroom floor, pausing at the door. Sharon was right, there was a strange noise. Faint and indiscernible. With my ear leading me I proceeded to investigate. Down the hall, stopping at the top of the stairs. The noise seemed to be coming from downstairs. I quietly crept down the half-flight of stairs to the front door, stopping only long enough to double check that the locks were set. Then down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen. The noise was more pronounced now - a low buzzing sound. I put my ear next to each appliance trying to find out which one was on the fritz. None of them were producing any noise. I stood there for a moment confused, scratching my head. And then, out of the corner of my eye I notice a sliver of light coming from the door of my den. Curiously, but with caution, I stealthily walk over and investigate.
As I got closer, the buzzing sound increased ever so slightly in volume. The door, slightly cracked open was dimly lit from the modest lamp on my desk. I changed positions, jockeying my frame of view as I scanned the room through the small opening of the door for anything out of the ordinary. I could see the back of the big, brown leather office chair that used to belong to my Grandfather before he passed away. Nothing appeared out of place. And then the chair began to swivel around, and there in it's seat was my darling Ashley. She was clothed with only a swath of material for a bra, legs spread wide open with one bare foot up on an armrest, and a pastel purple vibrator in hand massaging her clitoris with only the tip. I was in shock and in awe. My beautiful little girl had blossomed.
Ashley had recently turned twenty one while at school, and with the term ending she had decided to come home for a short visit. We weren't expecting her home until sometime in the afternoon the next day. Why she was here early was unbeknownst to me. Yet here I am, peeking through the crack of my office door while witnessing my babygirl, in all her glory, pleasuring herself in the comfort of my desk chair.
