"Vincent, I don't like it. You need to put a stop to it. I want you to call her now."
She was being unreasonable, but knowing her well, it was unlikely that she would change her mind. However, I should at least try.
In a calm voice, I said, "You're overreacting. She's an adult, and she can go out with whoever she wants."
"Even when they are old enough to be her Father?"
"Yes."
That got a snort from her, and a look of contempt, because I was condoning behaviour that she regarded as highly inappropriate.
When she turned over, so that her back was now towards me, I knew that the conversation had ended, and also, that there would be no sex tonight. There was no point in trying to persuade her, that was a battle that I was never going to win, so I turned the bedside light off. Hopefully, in the morning, she would be in a better mood.
Half an hour later I was still awake. If I'd agreed with her, that it was wrong that our nineteen year old Daughter was dating a man who was forty three, then my balls would be empty, and I would now be asleep. I must admit, that even though I wasn't against it, I did find it strange. She was a beauty, with a sparkling personality. She could have her pick of men, but rather than choose some young stud, she'd gone for a man who was only two years younger than me. But it was her choice, and I would respect it.
In the morning Vicky's mood had changed, and not for the better. It was now worse, and it was obvious that she wanted to continue last night's argument.
As usual, she made my breakfast, but today the toast was burnt and the eggs were overcooked. And I knew that she'd done it deliberately.
When she handed the plate to me, she said, "Eat this."
It was a challenge, and she was waiting for me to refuse. I took it from her, and then I started to eat it. Fortunately it tasted better than it looked.
"Will you speak to her?"
I didn't want to, but unless I did, this would go on for days, possibly weeks.
After giving a deep sigh, I said, "OK. But I can't promise that she'll listen to me."
That evening, on my way home from work, I went to see her.
"This is a nice surprise."
She then gave me a big hug, so tight, that her large breasts were squashed against my chest. I could hardly breathe. I was relieved when she released me.
"Alistair is in the kitchen, come and meet him."
An hour later I was driving home. I'd been hoping to get Olivia on her own, so that I could speak to her about her 'unsuitable' boyfriend, but unfortunately that hadn't happened. So what was I going to tell her Mother? I could lie, but that was cowardly, and it could lead to more trouble later on. By the time I'd got home I'd decided to give it to her straight, and if that meant that we would fight, then so be it.
"I met Alistair, and he's really nice. You can tell that he makes her happy," and then, after taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I said the words that would probably light the fuse, "I didn't speak to her about him."
I stopped there, and then I waited for her angry words. But surprisingly when she spoke, there weren't any.
"I was overreacting. She's an adult, and she can go out with whoever she wants."
Those were my words from last night. Good, we were now on the same page. But why had she changed her mind? When she spoke again I got my answer.
"Mother called me, and I talked it over with her."
So my Mother-in-law, the wise old bird, had got her to see sense. That didn't surprise me. She wasn't just clever, she was also sympathetic, able to see both sides of an argument. She would have calmly convinced Vicky that Olivia dating an older man was no big deal. It wasn't, but I would feel more comfortable about it if he didn't look like me. We could be brothers!
Later, when we were in bed together, Vicky asked me a question that I wished she hadn't.
"Would you like to have sex with a nineteen year old?"
She must be thinking about Alistair and our Daughter. Of course I would. What man my age wouldn't want to enjoy a younger woman that had firm breasts and a tight pussy? But saying that would get me a lot of grief.
"It's not something that I've thought about."
That was a blatant lie. I wasn't constantly looking at younger women and imagining what it would be like to fuck them, but occasionally I did, especially if they were pretty and busty.
"Well think about it now."
So she wasn't going to stop until she got a proper answer from me. I'd give her one, but I'd have to choose my words carefully.
"It would probably be nice, but I prefer women that have more experience. Somebody like you."