For Better or Worse

On a bright and sunny afternoon George Wilson was off of work atypically early. Walking in the door with his usual quiet grace, the single, divorced father stopped by the fridge, snagging a cold beer, and moved onto the family room, settling down on his worn recliner and turning on the television with the sound down low. After a few minutes, a strange sound reached his ears. George frowned, unsure of what it could be. His daughter, Judy, was at school so the house should have been empty aside from himself. Lifting the remote, he turned off the television and strained his ears for a repetition. He was going to be quite upset if an animal, even a mouse, had snuck in. Vermin were a pain to remove.

The sound returned and the single father blinked, setting his half-empty beer down on the end table between the recliner and sofa. It seemed to come from the hallway between his daughter's room and his own. George grimaced, wondering if the blond-haired woman had played hooky from school with her boyfriend, a young man he had taken an immediate dislike to. Idly, he fingered the plain steel band on his ring finger, a recent purchase from a decrepit old homeless woman. George had ignored the story she had told concerning her acquisition of the piece of jewelry, figuring she was lying anyway. He knew she needed the money and paid - most likely, he thought - more than it was worth, but the single father had been moved by pity and compassion.

It was also the reason for his half-day off with pay.

After hearing the sound repeat itself several times, George rose to his feet and quietly padded down the hall and stopped outside Judy's bedroom. Listening through the door, he decided the sound was most likely the squeak of bed springs. The single father lifted his hand to knock upon the door and paused, thinking of how he wanted to catch his daughter and her boyfriend. He didn't want to see them in the throes of their passion, but putting the fear of God into the slut and the bastard could be enough to end the relationship. A grim smile crossed his face. It sounded like a good idea. George lowered his hand to the doorknob and, slowly, gently turning the silver handle, pushed open the door.

His jaw fell in silent surprise, his brown eyes bulging. Judy was definitely engaged in sex upon her bed, but it wasn't with her asshole boyfriend. No, the legs her head was pressed between were female. George couldn't tell whose because the blond lay across her partner obviously participating in a sixty-nine. His cock stirred beneath his dirty jeans. It had been some time since he'd last been laid. George had been turned down left and right since the divorce. And here was his blond daughter engaged in a Sapphic embrace, his dick stiffening within the confines of his underwear at the sight. He hadn't considered Judy before. She was his little girl, but the idea wouldn't go away, successfully implanted in his mind. The blond was hot-bodied with high, perky breasts, her slim form toned by several long years of gymnastic practice **** upon her by her mother. And the taste of eighteen-year-old pussy would be a delight, a delicacy almost forgotten since the last back when he went to community college. And two hot, wet pussies, George grinned, would even be better.