David Miller got home that Friday evening from work to find his wife of twenty-two years waiting for him. It was obvious from the expression on Michelle's face that something was wrong. As he sat down in his recliner, David wondered if he'd put the toilet seat down that morning before leaving for work. But whatever the problem, he'd learned over the last two decades that his wife would tell him in her own good time.
Michelle hit the mute button on the remote and turned to David as he got comfortable and loosened his tie. She pushed her long dark hair behind her ears, which was a sign that she might be agitated. She'd probably sat in the same place on the sofa for the past two hours rehearsing what she would say. He decided to let her break the silence.
"How was your day, dear?"
"Good, thanks," he replied. He could have told her about how Jenkins got caught by the new GM photocopying his ass - just to liven things up - but that would probably have caused more agitation. "How was your day?"
"It was normal, for the most part." Michelle had been sitting cross-legged, what some call Indian style, and took the time to stretch her long legs and prop her feet on the coffee table. Then she hit him with it: "Do you know what your daughter has been up to?"
David breathed a momentary silent sigh of relief. This wasn't about him and he was thankfully off the hook. Now maybe he would have a decent weekend of blissful relaxation before Monday rolled around and the whole mess of earning a living started again. Then, just as quickly, he felt remorse that he was glad it was his daughter in trouble and not himself. But maybe it wasn't so bad. Michelle sometimes had the habit of making a mountain out of a molehill. He decided to take it carefully.
"Other than going to college and hanging out with a bunch of borderline psychopaths, I wouldn't know." He smiled at his wife and shrugged. "I don't see that much of her anymore, Michelle. She has classes and other interests, I have a seventy hour work week, and the twain does not always meet."
"It isn't funny, David," she said crossly.
"It wasn't meant to be funny."
Michelle looked at her husband for a long moment, and then stood up. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch. Would you like a drink?"
"I would love a drink. A very large one."
Michelle walked to the portable bar and mixed a rum and coke in a large glass, added ice and took it to her husband. She resumed her place on the sofa at the end nearest his recliner and he glanced her way with a genuine smile. He was fortunate, he knew, as he studied her for a moment. Some women became total bitches after twenty-two years of marriage but Michelle had, for the most part, kept what she called her dignity. Being unreasonable and quarrelsome was not a dignified answer to trouble, and she considered those traits even less admirable in women. David and Michelle had an easy, comfortable rapport, mostly because of Michelle's refusal to argue. Of the two, she had always been the one that brought some sense of reasoning to their relationship. She insisted that they talk about any problem that arose, look for a rational answer, and then move on.
She was a good lover with much the same passion and desire she'd had when they first married. In the old days, before Nicole was born, David and Michelle were insatiable lovers, hardly able to get enough of each other. Even now, more than two decades later, they still had the same passion, the same out of control desire for one another. Admittedly, they didn't make love as often now as they once had but the flames raged and burned just as bright. As he stared at his wife, David realized for the thousandth time that he was indeed a very lucky man.
"So, what has Nicole done?" he asked finally.
Michelle sighed. "I'm afraid you aren't going to like this, dear."
"Is it something we can't fix? Is it that bad?"
"I don't know."
"You, know," he started after a slight pause to find the right words, "there has never been a problem we couldn't fix."
She nodded absentmindedly as she stood up and held out her hand. "Come with me."
Michelle led her husband to his first floor study and turned on the computer. David rolled his leather desk chair a few inches to the left to allow Michelle to place another chair beside him. She took the mouse in one hand after the pc booted up and clicked on a folder on the desktop named 'Info.'
"Earlier today I had a problem with my computer so I used Nicole's. I know now that I probably should have used yours but I didn't want to come downstairs." She clicked on an image file, which immediately brought up a graphics program he sometimes used in his work as a website designer. After the program loaded, a picture appeared on the program's work board. "And I found a bunch of pictures that I transferred to your computer."
The image that Michelle clicked on was a full body picture of their daughter Nicole. It looked professionally shot and showed their daughter standing in a white room wearing a cheerleader's uniform and holding a pompom in both hands. Nicole's long, dark hair was in pigtails.
"Nicole was never a cheerleader," he said as he stared at the picture. "If she was, then I missed something."
"She wasn't a cheerleader, David," Michelle said as she clicked off the image and clicked on another.
David watched with a puzzled expression on his face as his wife brought up several photos of their daughter in various poses. Then the photos changed and showed Nicole in various stages of undress; some of the images revealed their daughter's small, perky breasts, while later pictures revealed a completely nude Nicole. There were close-ups of her breasts, the pink nipples hard and fat, and others of the young woman's pussy, open and gaping and glistening with her juices.
In some of the pictures, Nicole sat on the floor with her legs spread wide and beautifully manicured toes pointing in toward the camera. A couple of the images showed a naked Nicole with her beautiful feet high above her head, her pussy and tight, puckered asshole completely exposed to the camera. Other images showed their nineteen-year-old daughter cupping her small, firm breasts or pulling on the fat, hard nipples. David lost count of the images as Michelle silently clicked on each one.
"I didn't know," he said finally.
"There was no way you could have known, dear," Michelle replied as they stared at a picture of Nicole lying on her side, her legs and feet together while the camera locked in on her puffy, shaved pussy mound and well rounded ass.
"I don't know what to say," he admitted.
"I'm still a little speechless myself."
"You know, she is old enough to pose this way," he said, shaking his head. "I gather these images are on a porn site?"
"I don't know," Michelle responded. "I found them on her desktop. There's more."
The next image brought an involuntary gasp from David. It was a large close-up of Nicole's face, with her full lips stretched wide and wrapped around a fat, hard cock. Her blue eyes were locked on the camera as she sucked the man's cock. Other images that Michelle brought up showed their daughter in a variety of sexual poses; many of them were of Nicole giving a blowjob while other's showed their daughter's young pussy crammed full of the man's cock. The last three pictures showed the young woman with thick, white cum covering her lips and face.
David stared so intently at the monitor screen that he wasn't aware his pulse had quickened and his breathing had become shallow and harsh in his throat. His body trembled a little as he stared at pictures of his daughter that he shouldn't be seeing. But she was so beautiful! Her youth, the soft, sun - bronzed skin reminded him of Michelle when she was twenty-years younger. It was almost as if he were looking back into the past as he stared at the naughty, revealing pictures of his daughter.
