Jeremy Meets his Daughter

I smiled at my naked husband Jeremy, as he lay across our king sized bed. He snored peacefully, his slender, nude frame sprawled across our marital bed. My hunky hubby looked so adorable in his current state, though he was quite sweaty from last night and smelling as if he’d just run a marathon.

I sure felt like I had anyways. We’d fucked and fucked all night. We usually were quite gentle and vanilla, having been married for all of these years, but last night, Jeremy was a man on a mission, his sex drive at levels higher than when we’d even first met.

As I lay there, my body still feeling the aftershocks of the rough lovemaking session we’d had, I couldn’t help but wonder about what had gotten into him. Maybe it was the stress from work, or maybe he’d watched something really kinky. I decided I didn’t really care - it was hot, and I liked it. It was a nice change of pace from our usual routine. Plus, he just seemed so much sexier!

I slid out of bed, my body feeling sticky and used in the most delicious way. Walking over to the bathroom, I couldn't help but admire the bruises on my hips and thighs in the mirror. They were a stark reminder of the passionate night we’d shared. I took a quick shower to wash off the evidence of our wild escapade, smiling to myself as the hot water cascaded over my body.

After getting dressed in something more professional for work, I walked downstairs to make us some breakfast. I could hear him stirring in our bedroom, getting ready for his morning routine. I decided to make his favorite - sunny side up eggs with a side of crispy bacon. The smell of the sizzling meat filled the air as I flipped the eggs in the pan. It was moments like these that made me love him even more - simple moments that reminded me of why we’d gotten married in the first place.

As I plated the food, I heard him shuffling into the kitchen. He looked exhausted, his hair sticking up in all directions, his face flushed from sleep. He was dressed in just a pair of tattered boxers, still wearing his thick glasses, which made him look even more adorable.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind and planting a kiss on my neck.

I turned to face him, smiling warmly. “Good morning, hunny. Did you sleep well?” I couldn't resist teasing him a little, given his obviously tired state.

He nodded, his eyes lighting up as he took in the spread on the counter. “I had the best night. Thank you for last night, Mrs. Henderson...errr, babe.” His voice trailed off, and for a moment, I saw a hint of vulnerabiltiy in his gaze. I smiled at him, giving him a quick kiss on the lips, assuring him how wonderful last night was.

Just as we were about to dig into our breakfast, Emily, our eighteen-year-old daughter, shuffled into the kitchen, her eyes half-closed with sleep. She was still wearing her oversized sleep shirt, her messy hair sticking out in every direction. She was in her underwear, though her long shirt, which came down a few inches above he knees, hid them from view. She looked like a teenage zombie that hadn’t had her morning coffee yet.

But even in this state, she was absolutely adorable. Her thick legs looked so strong and sturdy, the muscles hinting at the soccer games she played after school. Her face was round and youthful, with a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks, giving her an innocent charm . And her butt. It was so full and plump, sticking out behind her like a perfect peach. I couldn’t help but stare for a second, remembering the times I had overhead my ommature male students gossiping about my own. It was definitely something she got from my side of the family.

Emily looked at us, her eyes squinting as she tried to adjust to the light. She froze. Her eyes grew wide and she took a step back, her hand flying to her mouth.

“Who the fuck are you?!” she shrieked, her eyes darting between me and the man standing behind me. “Where's Dad? Get your hands off my mom, you creep!”

I was taken aback. “Emily, calm down! This is your father, Jeremy. What’s wrong with you?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Emily for some reason wasn’t buying it. She was trembling with rage, her cheeks red and her eyes wild. “You’re not my dad! My dad has brown hair and he’s taller and he doesn’t look like a... a...” she trailed off, unable to find the words.

I felt a chill run down my spine. Maybe this was some kind of prank? But why would she do this?

But she just stared at me, her eyes narrowing. “What did you do to him? What did you do to Dad?!” she yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at Jeremy.

Jeremy looked at our daughter with a knowing smirk. Why wasn't he concerned or taken aback that his own daughter was accusing him of being some kind of imposter?

My husband, Emily's father, calmy stepped forward, adjusting his glasses as he locked eyes with our daughter. As soon they did, Emily froze in place, and her soft, brown eyes became dilated. Mouth open, her jaw went completely slack, as she stared off into space. She slouched her shoulders, the tension and panic seeping from her in an instant.

I turned to Jeremy, quite confused at what was going on. Jeremy's eyes had rolled back into his head, leaving only the whites visible. His eyeballs were swiveling back and forth from side to side, as if he were reading a text message from his phone.

As I stood there and thought about what exactly my husband was doing to our daughter, I became quite dizzy. When I regained my wits, it dawned on me that it really didn't matter what he was doing, as it was not my business!

Shortly thereafter, Jeremy's eyes returned to normal. A moment later, Emily seemed to wake up, though she looked like she was in a sleepy haze again.

“Now, dear” Jeremy grunted. There was something almost predatory in the way he was looking at Emily now.

“You’re going to go turn that tush around, march back upstairs, walk down into the kitchen, come to your senses, and we’re going to try this again. And this time, you’re going to show me the love and respect I deserve.”

I watched as Emily nodded mindlessly, as she slowly walked out of the living room without a word, her soft footsteps on the staircase barely audible.

“So sorry about that hunny,” I said, quickly stepping forward and hugging my hubby. “I honestly don’t know what came over her. I’ve never seen her act like that before."

"Don't worry about it, babe. She should be all fixed now." Jeremy joked.

I guided Jeremy to his seat at the table and settled him in with a mug of coffee. Just as my own tush hit my chair cushion, we heard a polite knock on the archway leading from living room into the kitchen.

“Get on in here,” Jeremy grumbled between sips.

Emily shuffled into the kitchen, her cheeks flushed and her eyes downcast. She looked so different from the fiery, accusatory girl who’d barged in only moments ago. Her shoulders were hunched, and she walked with a submissive slump to her posture.

As she laid eyes on her father, her face compeltely lit up.

"Daddy!” she yelped happily, hurrying towards him. Emily didn’t seem to need to be convinced otherwise this time - she just plopped herself right down on his lap, snuggling up right into her father.

“Oh gosh, Good Morning, Daddy! Hmmmmm, you smell so yummy!” She sniffed greedily at his chest and armpits.

Jeremy looked at her with a smile, stroking her hair gently. “Thanks, pumpkin. Did you have a good sleep?”

“The best, Daddy!” She giggled, snuggling closer into him as she stopped sniffing him and balanced on his lap. “What happened to your hair?”

“Ah, I had a bit of a long night, I guess. Couldn’t sleep well. Maybe because I was just thinking about you and Mommy, and how much I love you guys!”

“Awww, that’s so sweet!” I said, smiling warmly as I plated him his breakfast. "Emily, sweetie, are you planning to eat before school? You'll need to get ready soon."

"Mom, can I pretty pleeeease stay home today and hang with Daddy?"

Her voice was so whiny and high-pitched that it grated on my nerves a bit. But I couldn’t help but feel a bit of pity for her. She was clearly having a tough morning, after all. Plus, it was so sweet to see her so attached to her father.

“Come on, Em. You know you can’t just skip school like that. Besides, your dad has to go to work today, and I’m sure he’ll be okay without you for a few hours,” I said, trying to keep the firmness in my tone while also being understanding.

But Jeremy spoke before I could even finish my sentence. “It’s alright, babe. Emily can stay home today. I’ll keep an eye on her, won’t I, princess?”

Of course it was alright, as long as my husband was OK with it!

Before I could say anything, Emily was already nodding vigorously. “Yes, Daddy! Thank you, thank you!” she exclaimed, bouncing slightly on his lap.

Then, without warning, she threw her arms around his neck and crushed her lips to his. Her tongue **** its way into his mouth, and she kissed him with the passion of a starved woman. Jeremy's arms wrapped around her waist, his hands sliding down to squeeze her thighs, his thumbs brushing the upper curve of her ass cheeks from under her shirt.

The kiss was sloppy, ****, and filled with hunger. They kissed like that for what felt like an eternity, their bodies pressed tightly together as if trying to meld into one being.

I watched Emily part her legs slightly, allowing Jeremy to slide his hands further down. He took the opportunity to give her butt a firm squeeze. "Oh, Daddy," she moaned, her voice muffled by his mouth. She ground her hips against his crotch, his cock stirring to life. His thumbs dug into her flesh, kneading and massaging as she continued to kiss him with wild abandon.

Finally, they broke apart, both panting heavily. Emily’s eyes were glazed over with desire, and my husband's cock was now fully erect, tenting his boxers. I swallowed hard, my own pussy growing wet at the sight.

“Daddy's little girl,” Jeremy murmured against Emily’s swollen lips, his hand cupping her firm, round butt. She giggled into the kiss, her youthful skin flushing even more under his touch. The way she melted into his arms reminded me of how she used to when she was a little girl, seeking comfort after a nightmare.

He abruptly stood her up, lifting her shirt to expose her matching pink bra and panties. He smacked her ass with a resounding crack that echoed through the kitchen. “Now, why don't you go show Daddy your room, darling,” he instructed, his voice firm yet filled with a hint of excitement.

Emily wiggled her hips and giggled, the smack of his hand sending a jolt of pleasure through her. She turned and practically skipped out of the kitchen, her shirt still riding up, revealing her bare back and the top of her lacy panties. Jeremy watched her go, his eyes raking over her curvy figure, his cock now straining against the fabric of his boxers. My husband took a moment to appreciate the view, his hunger clearly growing stronger by the second.

Turning to me, he gave me a wink. “You’d better get going, Mrs. Henderson. You don’t want to be late for work, do you?" He joked.

“Alright, love. You two have fun, but don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” I winked, trying to keep the mood light.

My husband turned to me with a boyish grin. “You know what, Mrs. Henderson? I’ve always had this fantasy about fucking Emily...I mean our little girl. I’ve been thinking about this for years, babe. Ever since she got those little titties and that big ass. I’ve jerked off to the thought of her countless times. And now, it’s going to happen. Right here, in your house. In her bed."

"Our house, sweetie. Don't tell me you've forgotten who you are now, too! Have fun today, love!" I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

With that, I grabbed my bag and headed for the door. I could hear Emily's giggles from upstairs as Jeremy made his way to her room. The door shut firmly behind them, I smiled, happily knowing what was going to happen next.