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This is a continuation of the Julie Covington McGill, The Lynches story, and while it is written to stand on its own, you may want to check out the previous chapters, for background and context. Enjoy!
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Sarah Lynch slid her lips over the glistening head of her husband's cock, and could taste the undeniable flavor of another woman's pussy, as the hardening pole filled her mouth. The fact that she was tasting her 22-year old daughter's pussy on her husband's cock flooded Sarah's head with competing emotions.
While she knew her husband loved her unconditionally, there was a pang of jealousy, knowing he had just finished fucking a younger woman, although she knew this day was coming from the way he looked at their daughter since she hit puberty. There was a sense of pride, of having him return to their marital bed, even though he could have easily stayed in Michelle's room. And there was a sense of relief and vindication, which made Sarah feel more normal about events that played out almost 40 years prior.
John Lynch recounted the events of the evening to his wife, starting with being pressed tightly against Michelle's ass on the packed train ride after the game, pausing between each sentence to moan appreciatively, as his wife's lips moved up and down his now throbbing cock. He was proud of himself for cumming twice with his daughter already, and couldn't believe Sarah's mouth was quickly bringing him back to life for round three.
Sarah's hand jerked the base of John's cock while she bobbed her head up and down his shaft. She could feel herself getting wet listening to how John groped and pressed into their daughter from behind on the train, and then ultimately filled her young mouth with his cum, as they drove down the New York State Thruway. As John mentioned how good it felt to have his fingers in Michelle's tight, wet pussy, Sarah's mind drifted to a similar scene that played out in the unassuming four-bedroom Colonial in New Hartford, New York almost four decades ago.
"SARAH MICHELLE MARROTTA!" her father called up the stairs in anger, "you get your bottom down here this instant young lady!"
The then 18-year old Sarah loved her father, and did almost anything to gain his attention and affection, even though he was a strict disciplinarian. She was three weeks from high school graduation, and so looking forward to the independence that college offered, she had started bending some of the rules of the Marrotta household, namely smoking cigarettes and drinking. She knew that when her father used her middle name, she was in deep trouble, but upon hearing her full name bellow up the stairs, she had no idea what was in store for her.
"I'll be right down daddy," called Sarah through the closed bedroom door, while lowering the frilly red satin panties she was wearing beneath her sundress. Something told her she was in for another spanking, and she didn't want to get caught breaking yet one more rule of Salvatore Marrotta's.
"I said NOW young lady!" came the immediate reply from the family room, the walls shaking a little with the emphasis her father put on the word 'now,' so Sarah quickly pulled the unapproved panties back up under her dress, and quickly skipped down the stairs, rather than risk making him more angry.
"What's the matter daddy?" Sarah asked in her best 'princess voice,' hoping to soften her father's mood. But as she entered the room, she stopped dead in her tracks, when she saw her father sitting in his chair, with a pack of Newport 100s and a half empty bottle of Southern Comfort on his chair-side table. Obviously, he had found the items Sarah thought she had cleverly hid in the garage, and by the look on his face, he was none too happy about it.
"You know the drill," her father said to her sternly, pointing to the spot in front of his chair where she was to stand.
"Yes sir," Sarah responded sheepishly, in the same manner she had since she was a little girl, when the spankings first began. Back then, she had her mother there to diffuse the situation when her father got too angry, but since losing her to cancer two years ago, Sarah knew she had to face his wrath alone this time. Stepping to the designated spot, hands at her sides, Sarah shivered as she tried to remember the last time she was spanked, and her pussy tingled when she recalled the effect that it had on her.
Gesturing to the items on the chair-side table, her father simply said "Care to explain?"
Sarah was about to graduate as co-valedictorian of her high school class, and was heading to a pre-law program in the fall, but as she stood in front of her father's chair, like she had so many times before, she felt like a stupid, little girl. She racked her brain to come up with a plausible excuse, or any other way to get out of this situation, but kept coming up empty.
Sarah took a deep breath, but her father cut her off just as she was about to speak. "Don't make matters worse by lying," he said, his eyes locked on hers, as if he could read her mind.
Sarah blushed deeply at being caught before she even spoke, and quickly abandoned the plan to blame it all on her best friend Karen. Straightening her posture, and screwing up every bit of courage in her 5 foot 1 frame, Sarah presented her defense. "I'm eighteen now daddy, and in New York State, that makes me of legal age to smoke and drink if I want to." Sarah had a smug look of confidence on her face as she commended herself for quoting the law in her argument.
"And does New York State put a roof over your head and food on your table?" Sarah's father responded loudly, his words wiping the confident grin off his daughter's face.
