She’s lost any semblance of respect for you

It was apparent pretty early on once Miranda realized that you weren't her biological father that she felt no need to respect you. It was her junior year of high school when Ms. K introduced herself, no doubt looking for more ways to demean you behind your back. Mere days after Miranda's 18th birthday, she was introduced to some of the men of the Mandingo Society, under Ms. K's guidance.

In attendance right beside her daughter was Heather, eager to show Miranda how to expertly take some massive black cock. After getting her virginity taken like it was nothing, Miranda then began to let her personality show in all aspects of life. Where she used to dress at least somewhat modestly, she would now dress like a slut, and would whore herself out to any stud that struck her fancy at college. Heather made no attempts to hide how she had trained her daughter, and Miranda would often come home with some random hung guy to get plowed in her bedroom.

Heather wouldn't bother asking them to even shut the door, and many nights came and went where you would jerk your tiny cock to the sound of your daughter getting ravaged by yet another one of her bulls. Although your wife was taking every opportunity to net some men of her own, or to have another swing with either Carl or Simon, she didn't seem to love her love for you.

In the middle of one night, one where you passed out naked after masturbating yet again to the sound of Miranda getting her pussy pounded, you awoke to see the silhouette of Heather standing in the doorway to the bathroom. She grinned as she approached you, dressed in black lingerie that hugged her milky pale skin tightly and emphasizing all of her curves.

"Looks like someone's enjoying himself," she hummed with delight before slipping into the bed and cuddling up next to you. "I'm glad I wasn't the only one."

Your throat went dry as you felt your wife's touch upon your skin for the first time in a week or so, and wondering just how many men had their hands on her recently. "H-how was your day?" You dared to ask.

"Had a nice date with Carl and he took me back to his place," she happily answered as she began tracing a finger down your chest. "Miranda is certainly getting some good experience in, isn't she?" She was referencing the loud moans and the creaking of a bed frame coming from "your" daughter's bedroom.

"I guess," you meekly respond as your wife's hand trails down to your chubby belly. Heather continued humming as her hand slowly found its way down to your crotch, and your 2.5 inch micro dick began to spring to life (as much as it could). You shivered as she prodded it with only a finger, and that was all it took for you to get diamond hard.

"You know, I've been wondering just how much it takes for your—" she giggles as she holds out a pinkie finger while giving you a smug grin. "—little friend to get hard. I guess being a perma-virgin would make a man like you really sensitive, so I can't blame you too much!"

Your cock was already throbbing and ready, standing upright and twitching, eager for more attention that it likely wouldn't receive. Your fists clenched and gathered up handfuls of the bed sheets as Heather then reached her hand back down, placing her extended pinkie finger at the base of your cockette's underside and she proceeded to rub up and down.

There was, of course, not a lot of space to work with, but your wife was experienced with plenty of cocks at this point in her life, and a tiny thing like yours was no match for her teasing touch. "Poor little hubby," Heather cooed in a half earnest, half mocking voice. "You know, John, you're lucky that you have a wife who loves you so much that she's willing to stay, even if you're so unfit for the task of satisfying a woman. Why, I'm even kind enough to do stuff like this once in a while!"

There was no holding back at this point; you thrust your hips up against Heather's pinkie finger as you squirt; two pathetic, watery spurts of cum erupt from your tip and land on your lower stomach and groin.

"Oh my," your wife giggled as she pulled her hand away. "Especially fast tonight, it seems." You were already feeling a wave of exhaustion come on, like you could pass out at any moment. Heather reached over and grabbed a pair of tissues before tossing them your way. "Here, John, clean yourself up a bit."

You do as she says, your brain still quite rattled after the biggest climax you’ve had in years. “Also,” Heather continued. “There was something else I wanted to mention!”