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Older woman seeks pleasure from Husband's employee.

Jesus, I could play with them for hours. Bits of cotton, polyester, satin, velvet or silk that had chaffed against her pussy and even, he imagined, got caught between her cunt. Little clefted panty rubbing against her inside her denim jeans or mini skirt. It was a realistic possibility, one that I relished the thought of.

My daughters tiny panties - Oh the sweet sweet smell! from the cunt of my little precious girl was exceedingly welcome and my nasal passages were in heaven. She was, of course a grown woman now but in the eyes of their parents, offspring will always be their child.

It wasn't until my wife passed away when everything changed, almost in the blink of an eye. We hadn't been intimate in years, and rarely spoke to me much near the end. I felt like an arse myself, thinking such terribly thoughts in her absence that spilled out like an oil tanker that had gotten too close to the rocks. Thoughts of a nature that were extreme to say the least. I dreamed of turning her over in her coffin and fucking her up the arse a lot. I even filmed it all somehow and then the dreams would get worse. There would be a passage where my son was visiting his mothers grave using Google Earth: Cemetary View and caught me fucking her corpse up the arse. It was quite demented. I was looking forward to just what else my uncontrollable imagination could cook up.

Unfortunately, Penelope was not coping as well, but I couldn't really see it, I just assumed thats all. Therefore, there was nothing particularly unfortunate about that, other than my own suffering.

She was a struggling artist, was Penelope, and I was... becoming more depraved by the hour. It was as if, my sadistic nature was always there, but my wifes presence had held it at bay all that time. Now I felt the spell was lifted. I felt unbound, and Penelope would feel the brunt of it all I suppose.

It wasn't that my inhibitions were never there - I just had no desire to control them any longer. Thus, I adopted a new stance which involved wandering around the house completely starkers. Often, my aimless walks would lead me to the entrance of my daughters room. Here I stood, one hand one floppy dick, demanding the keys to her belt.

RAP RAP RAP! My receding knuckles went..

'Yes dad?' Her voice would call out charmingly.

'Can I fuck you darling.' I asked, hoping she would open it.

She was so nice, she would always open the door and let me in. But we never once had sex. Not like I hoped anyway. She wasn't particularly pleased by my perverted nature, as she was a submissive being, and believed in Jesus and other moral things, like equality and freedom of speech and thought. We would talk for a while while I sat trembling beside her, bum cheeks sunk into her pink duvet.naked, rubbing my dick with her red see thru's.

We were quite a pair the two of us and our postures did not betray the fact. I sat slightly hunched, moaning and eyes half open like a sex mad zombie and she had her arms crossed, fully dressed and back straight like Mary Poppins, the expressions on her face concerned but not surprised. If her face could speak it would say 'What am I ever going to do with you?' and if she could read my mind it would be saying 'feed me a spoonful of sugar.'

'We can't do it dad. I hope you understand the reasons why.' She explained softly. Her brows never once pinched.

'We can't do what dear?' I teased, hoping to coax the word out of her. I had never heard her curse before and wanted to hear it coming out of her lips, even if it were just the once.

'We can't,' She paused and took a deep breathe '...fuck'

She said it softly and to hear someone say it lacking any agressive edge whatsoever was so erotic.

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