Father Owns My Sexy Wife's Pussy

Father owns my sexy wife's pussy.

He brought bride home to meet parents, lost her forever.

My wife told me, in no uncertain terms that she loves fucking me, but that she must fuck my father. That was not really a choice on her part, she said, it was a one-dollar fact. She meant it too. She has proven that more than once when she has shooed me away while the two of them were heavily engaged in intercourse, or related activities. No, it no longer hurts my feelings or even makes me angry. It has been our way of life, for almost the entirety of our mostly happy marriage.

Well, now I realize that I have to tell you the whole story or you will think I am a hopeless cuckold, or my wife is a cruel bitch, or my dad is a heartless monster. I suppose someone could try to make a case for any or all of those views, but none of it was true in my estimation.

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I, Tyler Svenson, met Brittney Swain decades ago, in Santa Rosa, CA where we both lived. It was at a monthly meeting of the Sonoma County Genealogical Society. As I walked in, I was immediately taken by this beautiful young face in the seat at the far side of the 3rd row. Without hesitation, I walked around to the other side and squeezed past her into the empty seat next to her. I excused myself and she spoke some polite words as I plopped down next to her with my thick briefcase of family history records. I'm sure she observed that there were several more easily accessible seats in the vicinity.

The young lady and I didn't chat during the presentations, but both of us made contributions during the group Q & A. At one point the moderator asked us what the longest line is that we have traced so far. I stood up and, in my manliest possible voice, said "On my mother's side I have her paternal line all the way back to Odin, King of Asgard, in the 10th century, and his Queen Frigg, through their son Thor." Some knowing chuckles. "Of course, I don't have details of birth and death records, etc. for each of the generations, but it must be solid because I found it online."

My smirking grin let the crowd know that I was not being serious. Lots of laughter as I sat back down, the loudest of which came in my right ear from the luscious lady I had been wanting to impress. I smiled my smilingest as I looked her in the eye. Captivating green eyes.

When they recessed us for the luncheon buffet, I rose behind her, put my fingertips gently on her back, and pointed her toward the head of the sandwich line. "May I invite you to lunch" I politely queried. "That would be lovely" she grinned toward me. I felt pretty certain I was deeply in love with her after that bit of conversation, but I was reserved enough not to say so out loud. It was several weeks before I actually did tell her that.

During and after the luncheon we exchanged a lot of light-hearted chit chat and I could feel that she reciprocated my case of in-like. I then asked her if I might take her out for a real lunch and she said yes, but on condition I make it be at John Ash. "I am hurt that you think I would offer you anything less. It's a date!"

She took my hand to shake on it. I then pointed out that John Ash was only open for dinner so how about if I pick her up at 5:30? It is an old winery and a very pleasant place to sip some wine overlooking the vines before one gets to the delectable meat and potatoes. Brittney reciprocated my smarmy grin "of course, I know, that's why I made it a condition." She gave me her address and phone number (this was pre-cellular era).

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Everything went superbly on all fronts after that. On our third real date, after some serious petting on the second, we were in bed and that was profoundly serious.

We were together virtually every day. I was finishing up my last year at Sonoma State in Marketing. She had graduated last spring with a bachelor's degree in Arts & Humanities but was still wrestling with the realization that there aren't a lot of suitable paying jobs out there for such skills. She was working at the time as a waitress at the Indian casino just outside town, and shared an apartment with a funny, if seemingly sleazy gal name Roxanne. I lived alone in a student apartment down in Rohnert Park, near the school.

I dragged her to a few, kinda raunchy student parties, the kind she had avoided in her time at SSU. Brittney was, inevitably, a star attraction as more than a few of the attendees remembered her unforgettable anthracite black hair over creamy white skin, her stunning face and her Wonder Woman physique. Almost any guy who didn't have a ring in his nose made an effort to impress, but she made it clear she was with the big guy. I was 6'3, 195 and pretty well muscled. Light brown hair if anyone cares about that.

At one of those events, she and I managed to out-drink the rest and were the last to say goodbye to the host couple. They were a number of sheets to the wind, as were we. One of us, I think I recall it was my date, suggested we curl up on the big sofa and have another bottle of wine before we head home.

I went along with it willingly but soon realized that I was expected to neck with the host's wife, since Brittney was otherwise clearly spoken for. The hostess and I just mirrored their lead as we moved from some deep throat kissing to breast massage, to tugging off our clothes, then to full-body massages and, inevitably, genital insertions. Those were followed by noisy orgasms, then pretty much a repeat of the preceding.

I wasn't angry, rather turned on by how quickly my date's clothes were gotten off and how energetically she thanked the man responsible. I was even more impressed at how profusely she thanked him a second time. I, for want of a courteous option, was forced, with minimal reluctance, to fuck the hostess lady twice and a good time was had by all.

In the morning, we both felt that we remembered having had a good time. She was in no way apologetic, even though she had screamingly fucked him twice that night, right in front of me. But, for whatever reason, we never repeated the swinging stuff again. We continued to hit it off together on all cylinders and it was only a matter of months before we were tiptoeing around the marital idea.

Once that subject had been vocalized it was no time at all before Brittney was phoning the Gables, a Wine Country Victorian mansion that was an esteemed wedding destination.

We set the date and invited a small number of close friends and our families. The two of us muddled through all the prerequisites of a wedding, with a lot of help from her friends. At the last minute my parents had to bow out as my dad had broken a leg while skiing out at Tyrol. The wedding was just lovely, as all the ladies agreed. We moved into a new apartment big enough for two and commenced marital life.

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An early order of business was to arrange a week-long visit to Rochester, Minnesota, where my parents lived. We were all excited, they had never even met my darling bride. On the appointed Saturday, mom and dad picked us up at the Rochester Airport looking like the dashing and beautiful mid-40's couple they were and whisked us off to the home of Scott and Deanne Svenson. They owned a spotless, four-bedroom, stone-faceted two story not far from one of the Mayo Clinic buildings. Dad was an orthopedic surgeon there when he was not on injured reserve.

Mom had driven, dad was down to a single crutch and his limp was not too pronounced. They both escorted us inside, sat us down in their luxurious living room and opened a bottle of red, Brittney's chosen color. After the long days travel, Brit and I were early to bed, and slept with no attempt at sexual activity.

On Sunday evening, my dad had to go to a restaurant near his clinic as they were having a small going away send-off to one of his retiring staff. He invited me to tag along, and the ladies encouraged that so they could just stay at home and get to know each other better. We drank conservatively and headed home about 9. The women seemed to be almost as sober as we were and they were clearly gal-pals now, sitting on the couch and touching fingers like old family.

I headed off to bed early again. My loving bride waived it off saying that the two-hour jet lag made it only 7 pm in her brain. I fell asleep quickly and soundly. After almost 10 hours of sleep, my eyes popped open. Brittney lay beside me, snoring like a dragon. Her hair looked a bit damp. Huh? ...

I went down to an empty kitchen and made myself some breakfast. I was cleaning up my dishes when mom came in. I thought she looked like a zombie, but I can't say for sure since I have never actually seen a zombie. Suffice it to say she did not appear to be the very comely milf mom usually presents herself to be. She greeted me with a hug that was clearly not as long and robust as usual from her. "I'm not up to par Tyler. I kept Brittney up until the wee hours last night. I'm sure your sweet wife will be sleeping in a bit late as well."

"Ha, ha, that's fine momma. This is a vacation for us. Why don't you go back to sleep too for a while?" With a minimum of chatter, she decided that was a good idea and headed back to the master bedroom. An hour or so later, dad woke up and headed straight for the door to the garage. He left with a mumbled explanation about something he had to do at the Clinic. Another hour or so passed until I heard the shower running in our bedroom and smiled. I could hear her melodious alto voice and shrewdly deduced the younger Mrs. Svenson was in a happy state of mind.

When she came down, I got a quick kiss before she went to the kitchen to make something to eat. Mom came down then too and the two of them chatted as they made French toast and hot cereal. I sat in front of the TV and read yesterday's Sunday paper. Wife and mother hung together around the house all day, thick as thieves as they say. They both seemed to spend an unusual amount of time on their cellphones. I was so happy with how well Brittney was getting on with my parents. You can't ask for anything better than a spouse who gets along great with your parents. At least that was what I thought then.

I didn't chat much with the ladies and found "The Titanic" on TV, only a few minutes into it. Since I seemed to be the spare tire in the house, I started watching and it actually finished about the time dad got home. Shortly after that, I heard all three of them mumbling in the kitchen and then they walk out altogether and stood alongside my easy chair. Dad went to turn off the television and my wife announce in an officious voice. "We have something to tell you Tyler."

Mother started out the program; "Last night, your dad went to bed shortly after you did. Brittney and I continued to sample the wine and get wonderfully comfortable with each other, sitting on the couch. I won't bore you with exactly how the conversation went, but it did get pretty sexual and led to some increasingly intimate mother/daughter-in-law relationship building."

I was already holding my breath. Why did they walk in here with serious faces and start putting on an obviously rehearsed presentation? I got a little shiver. My mother chimed in to help Brit out, "Son, in order for you to understand what she is relating, we need to tell you something that I don't think you even know.

"Your wonderful wife and your even more wonderful mother have to confess that both of us have had some girl-on-girl contacts in our younger days. NO, not with each other, of course; Brittany told me about two partners she had back in her college days, and I am sure she will fill you in on those if you want. In my case it was quite a few connections over decades and, no, I am not filling you in on any details!"

I didn't understand if I was supposed to participate in this theatrical production, or just obediently sit and listen, but I did say "Ohh, momma, I do not want to hear about any of them. Except maybe the one you seem to be leading up to."

"So anyway," she continued. "we both knew just how to please each other. And that is what we did last night, Tyler. Big time! I must say, I am extremely pleased with your new wife!" I must have turned pale, and my hand flew to my lips. Brittany came closer to take me by the shoulder and gave me a hug and a sympathetic look."

I caught my breath and finally said, "You didn't need to make such a funeral dirge out of this confession, ladies. Good grief, it is not like you were having an affair or something." I smiled to let them know I wasn't altogether shocked, but I had begun to wonder if something still worse was coming. "Some girl-play isn't that big a deal, for Christ's sake. And I'm not totally surprised. Was it Roxanne, honey?"

"Yes, it was, but I will fill you in on our own time, Tyler." She seemed so resolute. That isn't all that we need to inform you of," she looked at my father.

Dad took a step closer to me, with an agonizing look on his face. "The way they told it to me, our gals had gotten each other naked and both enjoyed a few orgasms before midnight. Then, I was woken up by their squeals and stumbled out to the living room in my skivvies to be confronted by the most beautiful visage in my whole life.

"My God son, please forgive me, but what I walked in on was an absolute Goddess! Your perfect wife, stark naked, arching her back while riding your mother's lap. They each had their hands on each other's breasts. Clearly, they were both just coming off orgasms and I totally lost it.

"Tyler, I did know instantly, with no hesitation, what I had to do. I was not drunk and misbehaving. I was behaving in the only way the Lord permitted me to do. I didn't just give in to temptation, I firmly took the only action any real man could have taken in that situation. I quickly walked over to your naked wife and grabbed her by the wrist as I pulled her down on the couch.

"I fucked your young bride, son. I honest to God, full-on fucked my new daughter-in-law! Again and again!"

I know I looked shocked and disbelieving at what I was hearing, as he cruelly elaborated. "I shoved my boner in Brittney's cunt and came in her in maybe 5 minutes. And it didn't stop with that. I just kept on reaming your wife and came again in another 20 minutes, and we still didn't slow down for more than a few seconds. Our first fuck session lasted non-stop for probably an hour total. And make no mistake about it, son, I do mean 'we; she was enthusiastically kissing and fucking me right back all the way."

He looked right into Brit's eyes and I saw her take his hand and nod slightly with a grim smile. Mother looked down solemnly.

Dad resumed his speech, "The encouraging words Brittney was blurting out while we made love made your mother very angry. It hurts me to say this, but it made me feel like Superman. Brittney finally collapsed on me and was crying about how she had never in her life felt like that before. Son, if you want to kill me, do what you have to do. I will not fight back."

I was too stunned to react at all. I just kneeled on the floor and put my shaking head in my hands. My loving mother came over to me and crouched behind me to put her head on the back of mine and her arms around my shoulders. "It wasn't Brittney's fault honey, don't ever think that. It was all on me! I fell in love and in lust with my beautiful new daughter-in-law and I led her down the path.

"I don't blame your father either honey. Like he said, he only did what any mortal male would have done in that situation. Brit was simply not to be denied by any man worthy of the name. I watched them all night long. It was a force of nature, Tyler. I swear, if you had been there beside me, we would both just have held hands and observed the workings of God. I'm sure he must have given her quintuplets. I'm ashamed to admit that I helped them get to our bed and climbed in alongside them."

I said nothing, just heaving and moaning in agony. I stared daggers at him, but even then, it was dawning on me that the naked Brittney, in the throes of orgasm, presented an invitation that any man must accept. I actually understood that my mortal father's action was not anything he thought through in that moment.

Brittney hugged me sympathetically for a moment and then went to dad for a far more intimate embrace.

I just sat there on the carpet until I was all cried out. I went into the bathroom and tried to clear my head and then went back to the living room. No one had left. They just stayed there like mourners after the funeral. My wife moved beside me, as much as I allowed her to.

Finally, I could manage a few sentences. "I do forgive you, father. I know what an irrepressible temptation Britty can be and I can't hate my own father forever." There was at least two minutes when no one talked, and my heavy breathing was the only sound heard. Then I got up and headed to my bedroom. Brittney didn't attempt to follow.

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The next morning, I woke with a piercing headache and knew I had not slept well at all. Brittney's side of the bed had obviously not been slept in. Everyone else was up, but dad had already gone go the Clinic, I supposed. Judging by the only sign of bedding I saw anywhere, it looked like my wife must have spent the night in my parent's bed. Right then I didn't much give a crap.

We pretty much avoided each other the rest of the day; I didn't have a car and anyway I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of going off to sulk somewhere. After a fitful nap on the couch, I heard them in the kitchen and walked in. Deanne was just taking a new pot of coffee off the burner, while Scott was sitting aside the kitchen table. Brittney was sitting snugly on his lap. At least until she saw me, and then she got up and quickly seated herself on a nearby chair.

I 'm sure they all saw that I had noticed, but I didn't react right then. I accepted a cup myself and all four of us sat at the table and sipped the hot black liquid. I finally broke the awkward silence by asking my wife, in a calm voice, if she thought I didn't notice she was sitting on dad's lap. She said back in an equally calm manner, "Of course you saw me on his lap, honey."

"And why were you sitting on another man's lap precious? There were other chairs here."

"Of course, there were, but that would not have conveyed the same showing of my love and affection as sitting on his lap. That is what I needed to do after our confrontation of yesterday."

"But, but why...never mind I stuttered. I guess I was a total ass yesterday." I looked down to my shoelaces.

Brittany puffed up in her speaking-to-the-congregation voice. "The why is that I do so love and have affection for him, and for your mother, Tyler. And no, you were not an asshole yesterday. You behaved better than I had any right to expect. Your behavior when your dad told you yesterday made me love you even more than I ever have before.

"But", as she stood up and approached me a step closer, "we still have a long way to go to put the Genie back in the bottle, husband. Let me explain in some language that may put you over the top, or, hopefully, back on track.

" I spent last night between your parents again, in their bed. Not because I wanted to, but because it was clear that you weren't into kissing and making up just yet. So, you have a right to know exactly what happened...Deanne, maybe you could do a better job of this..."

"I'll try, honey" Deanne stepped in. "Son, Brittney did not make any sexual overtures to Scott, or vice versa as she was lying between us. But eventually he leaned over her and said in the most loving voice you could imagine, 'I'm sorry for all this family sorrow, Brit, but I have to tell you...I love you deeply and forever'. That were his exact words, just inches from my own ears, and I will never forget that. Then he leaned in closer and took her lips to his and she returned it for what was probably the longest and most passionate kiss since Sampson ate Delilah's lips off. I was honestly embarrassed. For them both," she stressed, as she glowered at my wife and father.