Single mouth

Description

Dad, husband, and me.
Who is my husband? Who is my lover? My husband works and lives far away.

We only see each other once a month.

I also work, so for convenience, I moved to my dad’s house.

Dad’s suite only has one bed.

Dad said that his daughter can’t sleep on the sofa, and I can’t occupy his bed alone.

And the wardrobe is in the bedroom, which is inconvenient.

So what if we sleep together? He is not afraid of the inconvenience of sleeping together.

Dad also refused to charge rent and food.

A married daughter and her father sleep in the same bed to save money, time and convenience. What a novel arrangement.

I am a practical person and agreed immediately.

We are all adults, so of course we understand the meaning of “sleeping together”.

When we moved to his house, my dad happily carried my suitcase into the bedroom for me.

I saw that he cleaned it especially well and emptied the wardrobe to hang my clothes.

The sheets were new, and there was a pair of pillows, all new.

Before going to bed, we changed into pajamas. His pajamas were also newly bought, taken out of the plastic bag, with the price tag still attached.

Dad waved away the double blanket, and we slept together.

The father and daughter were not strangers, but they were obviously not used to lying on the bed head to head, and neither of them could sleep for a long time.

Dad asked me if I was tired? I said it was okay.

Dad said very politely, anyway, there has to be a first time.

Can we do it on the first night? I said, it’s up to you.

He said, I won’t do it if you don’t want me to.

I said, come on.

He turned over, hugged me, and was about to kiss.

I shook him off and took off my pajamas and underwear.

The first time I had sex with my dad, I was a little at a loss. I kept touching the buttons on the back of my bra and couldn’t touch them.

It was my father who untied it for me, saying that my breasts were being held back all day, and I didn’t need to wear a bra when I was sleeping.

The bra was loose, and I covered my chest with my hands.

My father folded my underwear and bra and put them aside, and then he took off his pajamas.

When he took off his pants, he asked me if I wanted to wear a hat? I bought a few packs and put them at the head of the bed.

I said, no, I’m taking birth control pills.

My father said, then I won’t wear it.

I trust my father to be clean, and I haven’t touched a woman for a long time.

I said, my moaning is very loud, will it disturb the neighbors? He said, each family should take care of their own business.

Just moan, let Dad know that you are happy.

So, we got into the bed one after another.

Dad hugged me and kissed me. It felt weird to kiss him, and I instinctively dodged, but in the end I still sucked him mouth to mouth.

Then I accepted my father’s caress. I lay there like frozen, and he touched my whole body.

His hand touched my vagina and teased it a few times with his fingers. My labia opened and it became wet.

He inserted two fingers deep inside and dug a few times, and he touched it.

Well, I hummed.

My father’s skilled hands pinched my nipples, and they were all hard. Then he rode on me and pressed down.

I was waiting for the end, but my father was a little nervous. He wandered outside the door and bumped around under me.

I was impatient and touched the swollen and slippery thing. It was thicker and harder than I thought, like an iron pillar. I was a little surprised. I picked it up and stuffed it in quickly.

My father put one arm around me and held my hips with the other hand. He sank down and inserted it deeply. He pushed it all the way to the bottom and sank it all the way in. He twitched it a few times and it didn’t slip out.

The friction in my vagina was so irritating that I couldn’t stand it, so I started to get up.

He knew I was happy, and he was happy too, so he kept doing it, and the bed frame was shaking and creaking.

I was afraid that the people next door and downstairs would hear the sound of us having sex, so I said to my father, “Enough, enough.”

My father asked me if I had come? I said, “Come on.”

After my father thrust a few more times, he shuddered, and then he ejaculated, filling me up with semen.

I pushed him away, and my father jumped up, ran to the bathroom naked and took out a towel. I saw his shrunken thing dangling between his legs, like a little boy.

He took the towel and wiped himself clean as he walked, and wiped me as well.

While my father was wiping the stains on the bed sheet, I quickly put on my underwear and fell asleep.

We were silent all night, this was our first time.

I didn’t expect it to be so easy to get started, the first night set the tone for our future sex life.

On the second night, my father proposed to have sex, and I couldn’t object.

However, the back clasp of my bra always refused to cooperate with me, so my father untied it for me very skillfully.

He still said that we were all asleep, and it would be a nuisance if I wore it.

The sexual intercourse action was repeated from last night. I tried to open my legs as much as possible and relax. My father didn’t need to help, and he smoothly inserted and completed the intercourse action.

As for kissing, I let my father suck my mouth and stretch his tongue over. I didn’t open my mouth, but only let him lick my lips.

I didn’t like him touching my whole body and digging under me, although it was strangely comfortable, I would rather he insert it quickly.

After it was done, he handed the pillowcase to me to wipe it first.

These preparations that women should do, he did.

Because my father hadn’t smelled the fragrance of a woman for a long time, his sexual desire was very strong.

He also loves novelty. For the next week, he asked me if I wanted it every night.

I let him do it.

To be honest, I don’t hate having sex with my dad, but I never thought I could have this kind of relationship with such a close person, and I couldn’t let anyone know.

My husband only knew that I lived in my dad’s house. When he talked about relationships with his colleagues, he always attributed it to my husband.

It was awkward anyway.

I tried to imagine having sex with my dad as a business matter, for the convenience of everyone.

But my dad always had a way to make me feel very comfortable and give me an orgasm, which made me feel a little sorry for my husband who was alone away from home.

In fact, I never wore a bra to sleep, and I couldn’t explain why I had to wear it when sleeping with my dad.

In the days that followed, I only wore a bra and a pair of small underwear in the bedroom. I unbuttoned them when I got on the bed, and let my dad take them off when I had sex. I took off my underwear myself.

My father and my husband are both men, but they are different. My father is fascinated by my body curves and never misses any opportunity to see me naked.

Is my daughter’s naked body particularly attractive to my father? Although we sleep together, it is embarrassing for my father to stare at his daughter’s breasts and buttocks.

After a long time, I got used to it. In the narrow suite, it was too troublesome to hide in the bathroom to undress and dress. We slept in the same bed and sex became normal. What can’t I let my father see? So, I simply treated myself and my father as a couple, undressing and dressing in front of him, letting him watch to his heart’s content.

It was not embarrassing to go to the bathroom without covering up, especially every morning when we rushed to work, the father and daughter squeezed in the bathroom, you took a shower, I took a shit, and neither of us dodged or avoided.

At the beginning, my father and I had frequent sex, and my father must have not touched the fragrance of a woman for a long time.

Later, I gradually restrained myself, about the same as an ordinary newlywed couple, about three times a week.

We did it four times. It might be because of the extra dishes during the festival. After drinking two glasses of white wine, people were relaxed. It might be a good idea to add an entertainment program.

On ordinary days, in daily life, sex is one of the seven necessities besides firewood, rice, oil and salt. It is only for sexual desire and needs to be solved. There is no romance and passion.

Except for the nakedness, kissing and caressing that cannot be avoided during sex, but we don’t do those intimate actions such as kissing and holding hands in normal times.

We only make love in bed. It becomes natural. It is hard to say who is active and who is passive.

Whoever wants to have sex, give a signal.

Dad only needs to touch my nipples, and I will take off my pants for him to come.

Sometimes my thigh touches his dick intentionally or unintentionally.

He wears loose boxer shorts and sets up a tent every night, ready to go.

Sometimes I ask myself, what am I doing? I have a bottom line in my heart. Don’t overdo it. Just be happy.

When I don’t want to do it, I turn my back to him or say I’m tired, and he won’t force me.

On the contrary, every time I ask him for it, my father never refuses.

The eve of my monthly reunion with my husband is my abstinence day.

It’s the shadow of feeling sorry for my husband that’s at work again. I want to show my sexual hunger when I have sex with my husband.

This is what my father understands.

It’s been like this for several years. The subtle feeling is that I have sex with my father most of the time, and I meet and have sex with my husband less often.

My father has become my de facto husband. He sleeps with me for more than 20 days a month, and we live like a couple.

What’s abnormal is that my normal sex life is with my father.

Having sex with my husband once a month has a bit of an affair.

Having sex with my father is a way of cooperation, and having sex with my husband is another way. I have to use all my skills to make him happy to compensate for his suffering of abstinence for me.

Until one day, when I went home to meet my husband, I could smell the scent of another woman on the bed sheet with my sensitive nose, and even found another woman’s hair on the pillow.

My husband refused to admit that he had slept with another woman, so I had a big fight with him and kicked him out of the bedroom.

With a heavy heart, I went back to my father.

In the bedroom, he saw me sitting on the edge of the bed and not sleeping, so he sat up, patted my shoulder, hugged my neck, and asked me what happened.

I told him the truth.

My father said: “You are apart from each other for a long time, you can’t blame your husband.

Men have sexual needs, like me, I also need to find a woman to solve it.

You kicked him off the bed, pushing him to another woman.

You should go home more often.

If I am not by your side, you feel lonely, and meet a man who teases you, can you resist?” After hearing what my father said, I cried sadly.

It turns out that my father always thinks from my side. I have never paid attention to my father’s feelings and only care about my own convenience and happiness. I didn’t expect that my father would always give me everything selflessly regardless of whether I was enthusiastic or indifferent to him.

I burst into tears and twitched on his shoulder.

My father stroked my back and kept comforting me.

Then, I couldn’t help but throw myself into his arms, opened my mouth, stuck out my tongue, and kissed him madly.

He waited until my mood calmed down a little, and continued to kiss me, caressing my breasts and thighs, unbuttoning my clothes for me, revealing my charming figure.

Under the light, he saw his daughter’s naked body nestled in his arms. This was the first time, and she was so dependent on him, asking for his caress and kisses.

My father treated me like an antique, caressing my breasts and buttocks.

We kissed inseparable, and it should be because I didn’t let his lips leave me.

I offered my body to my father, and laid my soft and tender body on the bed, letting him do whatever he wanted, kissing me all over, licking my vagina, and gently touching my nipples with the tip of his tongue. The more erect they were, the more comfortable I felt.

Dad never spoke during sex, never said sweet words, and never said a word about how much he loved me.

In fact, my husband never told me that he loved me again after the honeymoon.

What is love? I was confused.

Do you feel love from this body pressing on me? I always thought that my sex life with my father was a transaction, and we each got what we wanted when we were lonely.

At this moment, his thing had already erected vigorously, but he didn’t care about inserting it, and still used his caring and compassionate caress to make him not eager to vent, while pumping, caressing my breasts, waiting for my moaning to urge him.

It turns out that my father is so good at making love, but I didn’t have the patience to appreciate it, and missed the pleasure that no man had ever given me.

My father’s final sprint took me to the fairyland of Yaochi.

I clung to my father, squeezed out the last drop of his semen, and didn’t let him withdraw, wanting to give him all that I should give to my husband.

After this, I was reborn and became another woman.

During the next month’s vacation, I brought back the nightgown and sexy underwear that I left with my husband.

After dinner, I went to the bedroom. Usually, my husband and I don’t have sex on the nights we get together. I go to bed first, and my father stays in the dining room to watch TV.

I called him to come in quickly.

When he stepped into the room, he saw me wearing a short spaghetti-strap nightgown, lying on the bed naked waiting for him, and he couldn’t believe it was real.

I told him to take off his pants and get on the bed quickly.

My father was aroused by my sexy teasing, and he jumped on the bed and hugged me and kissed me deeply.

Dad didn’t understand that I wore this nightgown to wait for him to take it off for me. He was greedy for the feeling of caressing my body through the soft fabric.

I whispered in Dad’s ear: I listen to you and don’t wear a bra when I go to bed. You can try it.

Dad touched here and there, unwilling to take off my nightgown completely, just lifted it up to expose my breasts and lower body.

This is the first time that a man did not take off all my clothes when having sex with me.

I still meet my nominal husband once a month and have sex once, as a routine, to maintain the relationship between husband and wife.

The rest of the time, I am someone else’s wife.

I will serve Dad by his side, gently and considerately like a wife.

Moreover, I can’t help but call Dad my husband.

Since Dad and I have sex, he has been respectful to me.

I live in his room and sleep in his room, as if he owes me a debt.

Now I treat him as my husband, and Dad does all the housework and cooking.

Now, he washes and dries all my underwear, bras, and clothes.

If I forget to bring a bath towel when I take a shower, I will shout to my husband to get it for me, so that he can see my naked body for a few more times.

If I can’t find my underwear, he will also take responsibility to get it for me.

When we make love, I call him husband.

When I come home from get off work, I also call him husband.

He often reminds me that calling him husband at home is a fun part of life, and I don’t object, but I must not let it slip in front of others.

I no longer count how many times I make love with my dad in a week, and it doesn’t hurt to do it more.

It’s okay to do it every night.

However, I have requirements for the quality of lovemaking.

When I change my mood, I want my dad to use his best skills.

I will lift my butt and do foreplay with him with all the colors, fragrances and tastes, and his old man’s cart will come, inserting very deep, grabbing my breasts with his two big palms, pushing and pushing.

I learned a move of Guanyin sitting on a lotus, and the Bodhisattva arrived. In front of him, my breasts were surging, and my father could only bow down to me.

I remembered riding a bull when I was a child, riding on my father’s back.

Now, my father lets me ride him again.

In short, I have to make him make me sweat and be infatuated to be worthy of myself and my de facto husband.

It turns out that the saying that father and daughter were lovers in the previous life is false, and this life is a continuation of the previous relationship.