I woke up around 6:45 AM like I always do, the rays of morning light shining through the curtains. The house was quiet, everyone was still sleeping. I went downstairs and started my normal morning routine; making coffee and grabbing the paper delivered to my front door. I sat on the couch and sipped my coffee while catching up on current events.
The stairs creaked, and I could see that my daughter Emily was half-awake making her way down the stairs. She's twenty-three and the older of my two children, Jack being two years younger. They both moved back into our house after graduating college while they started their careers and saved up for a home of their own.
Before they left for college, our family was tight knit, but my wife, Laura, and I kept our adventurous side under wraps. We'd always had an unconventional marriage, unafraid to push boundaries, but we made sure the kids didn't see that part of us. They grew up with a sense of normalcy.
Then college happened, and in those four years the children grew up, exploring new ideas, relationships, and themselves. Let's just say the apples didn't fall far from the trees. They came back more aware, more curious. And honestly, those empty-nest years changed us too. With the house to ourselves, Laura and I stopped hiding who we were. We got comfortable. Maybe, too comfortable.
It started about a year ago, a few weeks after they moved back in. We were all in the living room watching a movie. Laura casually rested her hand high on my thigh. It wasn't anything crazy. But I caught Emily staring. Not the quick, embarrassed glance of a kid who'd stumbled onto something private, but she lingered. She shifted closer to Jack on the couch, her hand brushing his arm. That was the first sign.
A few days later, it happened again. Laura and I were in the kitchen, and I was pressing up behind her, my hands roaming under her shirt while she washed dishes. It was nothing we hadn't done a hundred times, but this time Emily was there. She leaned against the doorframe, watching. She wasn't awkward or uncomfortable; she seemed more curious, fascinated. She didn't leave. She just stood there taking it in. I didn't stop. Laura didn't either. When we finished, Emily slipped away quietly, but the atmosphere changed after that. A line had been crossed, even if no one said it out loud.
From there, it was small steps. A snowball that kept building. Emily started getting closer to me on the couch, her hand brushing my leg, her eyes searching for a reaction. Jack was the same with Laura, always hovering nearby, watching her with intensity. They were adults now, fully aware of what they were doing. And so were we. We could've shut it down, but we didn't.
One night, after a few drinks, we opened pandora's box. We were talking about relations, Laura and I, and then we got candid, maybe more than we should've. We talked about how we kept things alive between us, how we'd found freedom in being open about our sexual desires. Emily and Jack didn't flinch. They leaned in, asking questions that were a little too personal. But we answered, and they were hooked.
Emily made the first real move. One morning, while I was reading the paper, she walked over, knelt down, and started undoing my belt. No hesitation, no asking. I could've stopped her, but I didn't. Laura walked in, saw it, and didn't even blink. It wasn't planned but it wasn't an accident either. Jack followed suit with Laura not long after.
Fast forward to today, and here I am on the couch again reading my paper and down comes Emily.
"Good morning, Dad," she said cheerfully.
"Morning," I answered, my eyes not leaving the newspaper.
She stood in the doorway, her hair a mess, wearing one of those oversized shirts that barely covered her thighs. I didn't look up. I could feel her eyes on me, hungry for attention, but I wasn't in the mood to play her game yet. Let her stew a little.
She huffed impatiently and crossed the room. Her feet were quiet on the carpet, but I knew she was there standing right in front of me. I turned the page pretending to be interested in the stock market and the world economy. Without a word, she dropped to her knees, her hands undoing my belt. She was quick about it, unbuckling it and tugging my pants down around my ankles. I didn't stop her, but I didn't give her the attention she was looking for either. Making her earn it.
Her mouth was warm as she took my cock in her mouth. I let her do it, let her try to get some kind of reaction out of me, but my eyes stayed on the paper. The words blurred as she worked, her head bobbing in my lap, but I kept reading. She wanted approval, a nod, a word, anything to say she mattered. I wasn't ready to give it. Not yet. I held the reins.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Laura coming down the stairs, her robe tied loose around her waist. She walked right past us, past Emily on her knees with my cock hardening in her mouth, and didn't say a word. It was normal for us. She's seen it all before. I heard her start cooking in the kitchen, business as usual.
I folded the paper and set it on the armrest. Emily was still going, her tongue swirling around the tip of my dick, her hands gripping my thighs. I was fully hard now, but I wasn't about to give in to what she wanted. I stood up, pushing her off gently. She looked up at me, lips wet, eyes wide as if waiting for my approval. I gave her nothing. Instead, I adjusted my pants and headed for the kitchen.
Laura was at the counter, cracking eggs, her back to me. I stepped behind her, pressing my dick against her, already warmed up by our daughter. My hands slipped under her robe, and I started feeling her body. Her body was thicker than Emily's. A body with years of experience. She didn't stop what I was doing, she never did.
"Good morning, baby." I said, voice low, kissing her neck.
"Morning," she said back calmly, despite my hands caressing her hips.
I bent her over the counter, unable to control myself. I pulled her underwear to the side and ran my fingers along her clit, warming her up. She immediately got wet, like she always did when I took control. I grabbed my cock and brushed it against her pussy, teasing her the way she liked. She braced herself, hands flat on the granite, and I slid into her. She stopped cracking eggs and arched her body into me, moving together as we pushed our bodies into each other.
I glanced over my shoulder. Emily had followed us into the kitchen, sitting at the table watching. She sat with her legs apart, one hand disappearing under her shirt. Her eyes were locked on us, her fingers moving around her clit, her breath panting softly. She liked to watch, liked to be part of it even if she wasn't the center of attention. She yearned to be in the spotlight.
The stairs creaked again. Jack, my son, shuffled into the kitchen, his hair sticking up. He took one look at the scene, me fucking his mother over the counter, Emily masturbating at the table, and didn't bat an eye. He crossed the room and sat down next to Emily, his hand sliding up her thigh. She smiled at him, grateful for the attention she'd been craving. He leaned in, kissing her neck, and joined his fingers with hers between her legs. They started playing with each other.
I turned back to Laura, gripping her hips tighter, pulling her into me. I thrust harder, the clapping sounds of our bodies filled the kitchen. Her breaths came in sharp gasps, her fingers curling against the countertop as she pushed back into me. This was our domain and the kids knew it. They could watch, they could play, but they didn't get to dictate the terms.
I looked back and caught sight of Emily and Jack at the table. Emily's legs were spread wide now, her oversized shirt hiked up to her waist. Her fingers were moving frantically between her legs, and her eyes were fixed on me. She was hoping I'd notice her. Jack's hands were there too, joining her and occasionally slipping a finger or two inside her. He kissed her neck, his free hand roaming under her shirt, but his gaze flicked to us every few seconds. They wanted to be included in our world.
Laura moaned softly, her body trembling as I drove my cock deeper in her.
"You're close, aren't you?" I whispered in her ear. She nodded, biting her lip, her eyes half-closed in pleasure. I loved it, knowing that I was giving it to her, and I could push her over the edge whenever I wanted.
I glanced back at Emily again. Her face was flushed, her chest heaving as she worked herself faster. She caught my eye and held it, a silent plea. She wanted my cum - wanted it more than anything. To her, it was proof she'd pleased me, validation that she'd earned her place.
"Fuck," Laura gasped, her body tightening around me. I felt her orgasm; her legs began shaking as she gripped the counter for support. The sight of her climaxing pushed me closer myself. But I wasn't ready for that yet, I wanted to keep them all on edge a little longer.
