A hot dry Santa Anna wind was blowing and the temperature in Santa Barbara was well up into the 90's. My car, which had been sitting in a parking lot and baking in the sun, was an oven. The trip from the airport to my home is less than fifteen minutes, not enough time for it to really cool down and when I walked in the door I was still soaked in perspiration. The house was cool and quiet and I proceeded to my bedroom to change into a swim suit so that I could join my wife who I expected to find cooling herself in our pool. As I stripped, I looked out the window and saw her with my son and stepdaughter and my world changed. I was home two days earlier than expected.
I work for one of the big four accounting firms and supervise an area that extends from border to border in the two western time zones. For that, I make the big bucks and the firm provides me with a twin engine Beechcraft that I pilot myself. The reason for the airplane is that I am away from home a lot and if a job is going to take more than a few days I want to be home with my wife and kids as much as possible. I had just returned from Silicon Valley where I led a team of accountants conducting a due diligence audit of firm that was seeking to go public.
My son, Kyle, is twenty two years old and is a typical California surfer; blonde, six foot one and 175 pounds of insolent arrogance. The girls flock to him as if he was Adonis and he has come to expect it as his due. His mother, Sondra, died of ovarian cancer when he was twelve and his adolescence was supervised by a succession of housekeepers until I married Patricia when he was sixteen. I am fifty and Pat, who is forty, has a daughter, Jennifer who is twenty and lives with us at home. She is now in her second year at UC Santa Barbara. Her father, who lives on the east coast, hasn't seen her in years, and has contributed northing to her upbringing,
Kyle has just graduated from UC Santa Cruz where I think he majored in partying and coeds I just wasn't around enough when he was growing up to monitor his activities and instill any ambition in him. Because of the years he was motherless and the short time that Pat had to supervise him there was no one to give him any direction or make up for the fact that everything came too easy for him. He is smart, but lazy and handsome enough that he has always had a procession of California beauties to stroke his ego.
I saw three beautiful bodies stretched out on three chaises in the shade of our lemon tree. That would have not been exceptional but for the fact that all three were nude. The two women were beautiful and could have been sisters but what the hell were they doing naked, next to my naked son? The window was closed against the heat so I could not hear what my son said when he turned to my wife but I saw her rise up and walk to a frosted pitcher and pour a drink. She returned to his side and instead of handing it to him she knelt beside him and offered it to him with both hands, as if she were making an offering to a god. He sat up and took it from her and before he sipped he said something else to her. I watched her hand move over his stomach and start stroking his cock. I didn't believe what I was seeing!
He turned to Jenny and said something to her and she came to stand next to his shoulder with her legs spread wide. Kyle ran his hand up and down Jenny's inner thigh and then he inserted his finger into her pussy. As he fingered her, her head went back and I saw her body shudder as she struggled to keep standing. The finger came out and was replaced by his thumb and I assume the finger went into her ass because I then saw her flinch and then rock slowly against his hand.
Pat, meanwhile, had brought Kyle to full erection and I must say I quite impressed with my sons endowment. It must have come from Sondra's side of the family because even from up here, I could see that he was much longer than I was and half again as thick. I could read Kyle's lips, as he gave her instructions and she half rose off of her knees and leaned over to take him in her mouth. It wasn't hard to tell when he came, his back arched and her throat was contacting as she swallowed.
It was quite clear to me that he was the director of this scene when he told Pat to take Jenny in her arms and kiss her. I could see their open mouths meet and Pat's cum laden tongue enter Jenny's mouth. The two women embraced and rubbed their bodies together as they humped each other.
He then broke them apart and had Jenny lie on her back on a chaise and Pat kneel between her legs. Pat positioned herself with her mouth on Jenny's pussy with her ass in the air. Kyle moved behind Pat, his rampant cock sliding up and down in the cleft of her ass. I saw her reach between her legs and guide the bulbous head into her gaping cunt and then return her mouth to the dripping pussy in front of her. He was not gentle when he reached under her and squeezed her tits. I could see her flesh bulge between his fingers. He rammed into her and it was all she could do to keep on mouth on Jenny. Jenny came first and then Pat and finally Kyle who then collapsed on both of them.
I just stood there and watched the whole thing, it must have taken at least half an hour, and I did nothing to stop it. I am not the guy who wanted to watch his wife get fucked by another guy and certainly not by my son. Likewise, see the daughter I had adopted, fucked by her step brother. I was alternately angry, humiliated and indignant at what I had witnessed. I removed all indications that I had been home and retreated to my car. I drove to a nearby bar and in a corner booth, over a cold beer, plotted my response to this display of infidelity and disrespectful immorality.
I really didn't know what to do. I had lost my first wife to cancer and it broke my heart. I have come to love Pat. She really is a good woman and has been a good wife, at least up until now. Jennifer is a lovely young woman and unlike her brother has applied herself in college and is doing well. How has my son been able to corrupt my household and how long has it been going on? Before I take any action I have to know more.
I called the house and when I spoke to Pat I told her I was just leaving San Jose. The audit was completed and I would be home for a late dinner. She sounded thrilled and told me she would wait and have dinner with me. When I walked in the door she greeted me wearing only a bra, panties and high heels. She asked,
"Do you want to start with an appetizer or dessert?"
"What's the appetizer?"
She took off the bra, "These."
"And what's the dessert?"
She took off the panties, "This."
I scooped her up in my arms and laid her down on the other end of the dining room table. Only one end had been set up for the two of us and she was crossways on the table at the other end with her legs dangling on one side and her arms stretched out on the other. Her hands were gripping the edges.
"Don't move." I said, and she didn't.
My fingers played all over her body. Feathery touches, brushing her nipples and clit, belly and breasts, facial lips and cunt lips, inner thighs and underarms, neck and ears, every erogenous spot I could think of. Then I paid attention to her nipples, pinching and squeezing them. She was writhing like a snake and the sounds she was making ran from a low moan to a keening wail.
"Please."
"Please what?
"I want to cum, I need your permission"
It was then it struck me, my wife was a submissive, not a latent one but a complete and fully conditioned submissive! I stood there, fully dressed, my thumb in her pussy and two fingers in her ass, her body moving as if it had a mind of its own, and she was asking for permission to cum!
"Does Kyle always give you permission? "
Everything stopped and the silence was deafening and after a long pause a low moan escaped her lips and the sound of her crying filled the room. She was sobbing her heart out, still lying there, and still gripping the table. I realized that the last command I gave her was to not move and she still couldn't. I pried her fingers from the edge of the table and lifted her in my arms to seat her on a chair; I didn't care if her leaking cunt stained the fabric. I pulled another chair directly in front of her and sat with my knees almost touching hers. The sobs racking her body slowly decreased only to be replaced by hiccups and then they stopped.
"Why" was the only thing I said?
A long soft moan escaped her lips, only to be replaced by the hiccups again. When they subsided she said,
"Because it's what I am."
"I don't understand. What are you? Explain your behavior this afternoon."
