Mad Monday Pt. 02

Mad Monday: Part 2

by Pan

Note: All characters depicted in sexual situations are over 18.

Chapter 21:

It felt like the silence went on forever.

It was probably just a few minutes, but my mind was racing, and my wife was refusing to speak.

She stared at me with our daughter's beautiful face, my cock in our daughter's beautiful hand as I contemplated my options.

I couldn't fuck my daughter again. I just couldn't. It was so wrong, on so many levels. SO many levels.

Irregardless of how amazing it had felt, sex was completely off the table. It had to be.

But...well, my wife needed me. She was doing this for our daughter. She was doing so much.

The least I could do was meet her halfway.

"Okay," I said, breaking the silence. My daughter's face lit up.

"Okay??"

"Yeah," I said. "Tomorrow, after school. Set the alarm, okay?"

"Okay," my wife said back to me.

I knew that I'd do anything to make her eyes fill with that look of love. Belle - and Mary, of course - are the most important things in the world to me, and I knew I'd do anything to keep them happy and safe.

Well, almost anything.

###

When my daughter's body arrived home from school the next day, I was disappointed to notice that she again wasn't wearing a bra.

Disappointed both that she wasn't wearing a bra, and that it was noticeable.

"Mary..." I said, but she held up a hand and cut me off.

"Andrew," she said, moving towards me. "We only have so much time before Belle gets home. I really don't want to waste it with a fight."

I dropped it. She had a point.

"What do you want to do?" I asked. A grin crossed our daughter's face.

"What's on the table?"

"Anything," I said reluctantly. I'd spent all night thinking about it. Mary was doing so much for us, for our daughter. For our family. It was only fair that I do my share.

"*Anything?*"?

"Not that," I said, throwing her a glance. "Anything else."

"Very well," she said, sitting on the couch.

I meant it, too. Aside from *that*, I was willing to do whatever my wife requested. I wouldn't enjoy it, but it was what Mary needed.

Well, I hoped I wouldn't enjoy it.

I really, really hoped I wouldn't enjoy it.

"I know what I want," she said, after a pause.

"Oh?"

"I want you to watch me."

I waited for the end of the sentence, but it never arrived.

"What?"

"I want you to watch me," Mary repeated, Belle's eyes burning into mine.

"Okay..."

"I've been thinking about this all day," she said, leaning back on the couch in my office. "I've been thinking about it all week..."

I sat down on my office chair, confused and grateful. Confused about exactly what I was going to watch, and grateful that Mary didn't want me to...

Well, there was a long list of what I was grateful Mary didn't want me to do.

Watching? That I was okay with.

My daughter's eyes never left mine, as my wife reached down and began unbuttoning Belle's shirt.

Obviously my instinct was to look away, but that would have somewhat defeated the point. Mary wanted me to watch, and so - loathe though I was to look at my daughter's naked form yet again - I watched.

I hated to admit it - I really, really hated to admit it - but Belle's tits were the finest I'd ever seen. Even in her hay-day, my wife's breasts had never stood quite so proudly on her chest.

To my annoyance, I could feel my cock starting to stiffen in my pants.

A better man would have been able to watch his daughter undress without getting aroused, but...god, I just couldn't help it. It wasn't just how perfect they were, either. Seeing them reminded me of what I'd seen...what we'd done.

What we were probably going to do again.

"Do you like these, Daddy?"

I grimaced at the term.

"Mary, what are..."

"Shhh," she said. "Honey. Please. You said anything."

"Yes, but..."

"We only have an hour, Andrew. *Please.*"

I shut up.

Mary and I had roleplayed before, but it had never been anything particularly kinky. She'd been a stranger at the bar, or a frisky maid. She'd never shown any interest in...something like this.

"Do you like these, Daddy?" she repeated. I shifted uncomfortably on my seat.

Belle was the only person who'd ever called me Daddy. I knew it was a fairly common term of endearment, but none of my previous girlfriends had ever used it, nor had Mary.

Until now.

Hearing the word from my daughter's mouth was...well, it made me uncomfortable. But what part of the situation didn't?

"Tell me you like my tits, Daddy..."

With a sigh, I answered.

"I like your tits, sweetie."

"Call me your baby girl."

"*Mary...*"

My wife shot me a glance. Even filtered through my daughter's face, I knew exactly what it meant. And so, against my better judgment, I conceded.

"I like your tits...baby girl."

Mary groaned, and grabbed Belle's breasts. Every instinct was telling me to turn away, but I continued watching.

It was the least I could do.

It was also pretty close to the most I could do.

"Do you want to cum on them?"

"Yes," I replied immediately. Not because it was true, but because it seemed like a lifeline. Cumming on Belle's tits...just the idea was morally repugnant, but it seemed a lot more palatable than many of the alternatives.

I wasn't going to fuck her. I didn't want to touch her. And I'd watched my daughter swallow my cum once before; no part of me wanted to repeat the experience.

Cumming on her tits seemed like the lesser of about ninety-five possible evils.

"You want to cum on your little girl's tits?"

Belle's voice was getting strained. Despite her hands not going anywhere near her pussy, it sounded like she was on the verge of cumming.

"Yes," I said hoarsely. "Please. I want to cum on your tits. I...I want to cum on my little girl's tits."

"Oh, *god*."

My wife pinched Belle's nipples. Hard.

A loud groan left my daughter's mouth as she came, her body twitching, her pelvis pushing back against an imaginary intruder. I could see the waves of pleasure coursing through her body.

As instructed, I sat, and I watched.

Chapter 22:

As my wife slowly came down from our daughter's orgasm, she smiled at me.

"God, Andrew..."

"I know," I smiled back at her. "I know."

I began to stand up, and a worried look crossed her face.

"Where are you going?"

My face fell.

"I thought...I thought that..."

"You thought that was *it*?"

Belle's voice was shrill. She began to sit up, and I returned to my seat as quickly as was humanly possible.

"Of course not," I lied. "I just..."

Mary shut our daughter's eyes. She didn't say anything, but I could see her lips moving - she was silently counting to ten.

When Belle's gaze met mine again, my wife seemed calmer.

"What's the time?" she asked.

I glanced at my watch.

"Half past four.."

"Good," she said. "We still have a little while."

I nodded, my heart sinking. Never before had the phrase 'a little while' struck such fear into anyone's heart.

"Now," she said, bringing Belle's hands back up to her breasts, the fire returning to her eyes. "You were saying..."

"I want to cum on your tits," I repeated, trying to inject passion into my voice. It had been foolish to think my wife would be done after a single orgasm - that may have been enough when this had all started, when I was making out with her under duress, but now...my daughter's hormones seemed to be feeding into my wife's sex drive.

It was like a feedback loop, whipping her into a frenzy.

What had I gotten myself into?

"Call me baby girl," she repeated. It was a nickname I'd always used for Belle.

It made my stomach turn, but I couldn't argue. I couldn't.

I knew where that battle led.

"Play with yourself," she pleaded.

Unzipping my pants, I pulled my hard cock into view. I tried not to enjoy the look on Belle's face when she saw it.

I tried to remind myself - this was Mary. Mary, my wife. She was the one staring, entranced, at my erection. My wife was the one who wanted me to talk dirty to her.

Not my daughter. Not my sweet, innocent, eighteen-year old daughter.

It was my wife. It was like my wife was...wearing a costume. Dressing up as my daughter.

Mary was dressing up as Belle, calling me Daddy, and instructing me to call her 'baby girl'.

I mean, as long as I remembered that, how weird could it get?

She moaned with pleasure as I followed her instructions, wrapping one hand around my cock, slowly pumping.

As I stroked my hand up and down my dick, Mary moved one of Belle's hands between her legs. She lifted up her skirt, and it was immediately obvious that a bra wasn't the only item of underwear she'd skipped that morning.

My wife had spent the day at school, in my daughter's body, not wearing a bra or panties.

God, why did *that* make me hard?

"Daddy, so many boys were looking at me today."

I gulped. Now Mary was putting on a baby voice. What on earth had gotten into her?

"They were all looking at me, and I could tell they wanted to fuck me. All the boys at school wanted to fuck me, Daddy."

I nodded, not sure what to say.

"They all saw my big tits, my long legs. I just wanted to unbutton my shirt and flash them, Daddy..."

"But you didn't, did you?"

Mary shook our daughter's head, a mischievous look on her face.

"No, Daddy. I was such a good girl."

My cock twitched at her response.

"I was such a good girl for you. I know you don't want me to fuck any of the boys at school, Daddy. I know you don't want me to show off my tits for them."

Belle's hand was moving faster and faster between her legs. I matched her pace as I continued stroking her cock.

"My tits are for you, Daddy."

I groaned.

"I'm your good little girl. My tits belong to you. I'm your baby girl."

I was staring at Belle's tits as she rubbed herself, Mary's words seeping into my brain like poison. Despite the fact that she'd cum just a few minutes ago, I could again hear my daughter's voice getting strained.

"I won't fuck the boys at school, Daddy."

"Good girl," I muttered. I couldn't help myself.

"I won't let them cum on my titties," Mary continued.

"Good girl..."

"I won't let them use my hot teenage pussy..."

"Oh god, Mary..."

"*Belle.*"

"Belle," I rasped. "Belle...you're going to make me cum."

Faster than I would have imagined she could move, Mary hoisted Belle's body off the couch and kneeled in front of me. Her hand never left her wet pussy, and as she looked up at me, I could feel my orgasm approaching.

"I won't let them fuck you, because I belong to you. I'm yours, Daddy. My body is yours."

There's something I haven't mentioned. Mostly because it hasn't been relevant, but partially because...well, I guess I find it a little embarrassing.

As Mary knows very well, I have a bit of a fetish. Nothing too wild, just a...I suppose you could call it an 'ownership' fetish. My wife's body 'belonging to me' has always been a part of our dirty talk. We've never gone beyond that - I know some people are into collars, or writing on each other. For us, it's always just been talk.

I never thought she'd use it like this.

"I'm yours," Mary moaned, staring up at me with our daughter's blue eyes. "I belong to you. Cum onto my tits, Daddy. Mark me as your property. Show the world that I'm your baby girl, that you own me.

"You own me..."

With a grunt, I felt myself cumming - Belle's eyes lit up as I aimed my offering at my daughter's exposed tits.

My dick pulsed three times as I came, shooting my wad onto my daughter's face and breasts. Most of my seed landed on her chest, but Mary leaned forward and caught my third shot on Belle's face.

Breathing heavily, I leaned back and watched as my cum slowly began to slide down Belle's huge tits. With a groan, she began to cum as well, her second orgasm of the afternoon.

Well, the second that I'd been witness to.

So far.

She collapsed backwards, laying on the floor, writhing and twitching with pleasure as she came.

When she was done, we both sat there in a comfortable silence. I could feel the guilt lurking in the corner of my mind, but I wasn't letting it in. Not yet.

"Wow," Mary said, propping herself up on Belle's elbows. Her face and tits were splattered with my seed.

I wish I didn't find that such a turn-on.

"Wow," she repeated. "That was..."

Before she could finish her thought, we were interrupted by the loud beeping of the burglar alarm.

Chapter 23:

Belle's eyes widened as the shrill beeping filled the room.

"Go get that!" she hissed. The baby-voice was gone - emerging from my daughter's mouth, I recognized my wife's 'business' tone.

"You've got...this?" I asked, gesturing at her chest. My cum was sliding down her long pink nipples, dripping onto the carpet.

"Yes!" she hissed again. "Just...don't let her come in here, okay? It reeks."

Mary was right. I hadn't even noticed before, but my office stank of sex. The strong scent of my seed had mixed with the smell of my daughter's pussy-juices, and virgin though she may have been (in mind, if no longer in body - either body), I'm sure Belle would have been suspicious of the odor we'd inadvertently concocted.

As quickly as I could, I returned my still-hard cock to my pants, fastened them, and walked into the hallway to find my wife's body staring at the house alarm panel, a confused look on her face.

"Oh!" Belle said as I approached. "You're home."

"Sorry about this." I said, flipping open the panel and disabling the alarm. "Must have forgotten to turn it back off again."

To my relief, my wife's eyes didn't hold even a trace of suspicion. As always, Mary was right - Belle didn't even question the idea that I'd somehow turn on the alarm and then slip into my office before triggering it.

Never before had I been so thankful for the low opinion the women in my life apparently had of me.

We stood in silence for a few moments. My heart was still racing at the idea of being caught - what we were doing was for Belle's sake, for the good of the family...but there was a zero percent chance I'd have been able to explain that to her if she'd walked in to find her body covered in her father's fresh seed.

My cock twitched at the memory. If a genie had appeared to offer one wish, I would have spent it to not be turned on by the image of my *daughter*, kneeling in front of me, her tits coated with my cum.

"Let's go out," I said abruptly.

"For real?"

I think I managed to mask my smile. My daughter's distinctive tone and language, emerging from my wife's mouth. I didn't think I'd ever get used to it.

Fortunately, I wouldn't have to. Six more days.

Six more days.

"Yeah," I said. "It's been a big week; I think we deserve it."

"Da...uh, Andrew. It's Monday."

God, was it only Monday?

"Well, when was the last time we went out?"

A look of confusion entered my wife's eyes

"It's been too long," I pressed on, before Belle felt obliged to actually answer my question. "Pick a spot, I'll take you there."

"The 556!"

"Sure thing, honeybee."

My daughter, unsurprisingly, was much worse at hiding her reactions than I. Pretending not to notice her grimace, I told her to go upstairs and get changed.

Once I was sure she was out of earshot, I made my way back to the office.

I genuinely don't know how she does it. If it wasn't for the smell, I would have sworn that our daughter's body had just gotten home from school and sat down on the couch in my office to relax. I mean, I *knew* she wasn't wearing a bra or panties, but the innocent way she was sitting, I would never have considered that as an option.

Then, once she saw it was just me, Mary licked our daughter's lips and winked at me.

I was immediately as hard as a rock.

"I'm taking her out to dinner," I said, and Belle's eyes lit up.

"Great idea!" she said, the sultry look gone in an instant. "Talk to her about her peers."

I tilted my head to the side.

"Her peers? You mean...the people at your work?"

"No, *her* peers. The kids in her class."

"Are you worried our daughter is being...peer pressured?"

Mary tossed her head to the side and gave me a perfect (though I suspect accidental) duplication of Belle's most withering teenage glance.

"Yes, Andrew. Tell her hugs, not drugs. Perhaps in a rap, to make sure it really gets through to the youth of today."

"I just don't...-"

My wife interrupted me with a sigh, heaving my daughter's shoulders.

"We don't have time for this, honey. Our daughter doesn't have any friends, and I'm trying to work out why."

"Of course," I said.

There were many reasons I was uncomfortable doing sexual things with my daughter. I mean, they're obvious, right? Even though I knew it was my wife in there...in the end, it was still my *daughter's body*.

The memories would never leave me. The knowledge that I'd been inside her, that she'd sucked my cock, that I'd cum on her tits...they'd torture me until my dying day.

But just as bad: now that I'd seen her naked, now that I'd looked at her in a sexual light...it was hard to turn off.

Without even meaning to, before I left the room, my eyes flicked down, and I glanced at Belle's tits.

I checked out my daughter.

There are many words that you can use to describe me, but I don't think that 'subtle' is one of them.

Mary noticed. She noticed me objectifying our daughter's body. She noticed me unconsciously looking at Belle's chest. What was going to happen when they switched back? If Belle noticed me checking her out, even once...god, I didn't even want to think of the damage that would do.

My wife should have been furious. She should have scolded me, helped me train my instincts *away* from viewing my daughter as a piece of meat.

Instead, a look appeared on her face, and she brazenly pushed her chest forward for me to have a better look.

"Where are you going for dinner?" she asked, her voice practically dripping with faux-innocence.

"The 556."

Belle's eyebrows shot up.

"Oh!"

"Oh?"

She grinned at the worried tone in my voice.

"Have fun with that," she said, and before I could inquire any further, ushered me out of the office. My head snapped around, but Belle was still upstairs, thank god. If she saw that her body was at home, she'd...well, I didn't know what she'd do. I didn't want to know.

"While you're out, I'm going to do some homework," she whispered.

"Good," I began, but my wife continued speaking over me.

"...while your cum dries on my tits. Have a good time!"

I wasn't able to even get a 'goodbye' out before she slipped back through the door, closing it on my face.

What was at the 556?

Chapter 24:

I managed to mask my erection as I left the office (a skill I'd developed as a teen, and hadn't thought about it for many years). I tried to calm down as I waited at the bottom of the stairs for my daughter (in my wife's body) to finish preparing for our 'date'.

My mouth dropped open as Mary's body appeared.

Over the last week, Belle had been dressing her mother in what she considered Mary's style. At the age of forty, my wife had long settled into what I considered quite a pleasant array of outfits, but - in her daughter's eyes - were apparently dull as ditchwater.

Yesterday, for example, Belle had worn a black dress that I hadn't seen Mary in since her uncle's funeral. It was stiff, staid, formal, and did absolutely nothing for her figure - something I'd been *extremely* grateful for.

I was already having enough trouble hiding my attraction to Mary in my daughter's body. The last thing I'd needed was to hide my attraction for my wife from Belle in Mary's body.

Even after eighteen years of marriage, I still consider Mary one of the most gorgeous creatures on the planet, but I knew that Belle must be finding the scenario stressful enough as it was. She didn't need her father's lustful eyes passing over her borrowed form.