Suzy, Molly, and Me Ch. 02

All characters in the story are at least 18 years of age. This is a work of pure fantasy, playing on our sexual fascination with what is taboo. This story is heavy on character development and plot, so it may not be for you if you are looking for a quick payoff. In Part 1 of the story, we met the characters: the narrator, his wife, Suzy, and his daughter, Molly. Suzy is a woman in her early 40s with blonde hair, fair skin, and big, natural breasts. Molly just recently turned 18, and is lithe, with dark hair and olive skin, like her father, and small but pert, budding, breasts. Molly was a bit of a late bloomer, so she is very inexperienced sexually. By the end of Part 1, the narrator is feeling confused because of some situations in which his wife seemed to be encouraging him to take a sexual interest in their daughter.



The next day, before we got out of bed, Suzy asked me what Molly and I had talked about while we were alone in the hot tub. We had a laugh about the conversation Molly said she had with her friend Lauren, and then I told Suzy, with some embarrassment, that Molly had done some things that could be taken the wrong way by boys her age if she wasn't careful. Suzy said she'd have a mother-daughter talk with Molly about it, but she was smiling, and I got the impression she was secretly proud of her daughter for finally developing her feminine charms after years of being such a tomboy. I wrote off the night before as just an unfortunate confluence of events: a wife who was overly enthusiastic about her daughter's budding femininity, a daughter who wasn't entirely aware of her own powers yet, and a father who had been expertly aroused by his wife right before his daughter's arrival. Over the next couple of weeks, memories of that night sometimes surfaced, unbidden, when Suzy and I were making love, but I worked to forget about the whole thing as best I could.

At the end of the month, I had to take a long business trip to Europe, visiting the company's distributors in France and Italy. I'd gone on business trips before, of course, but this was the longest I had ever needed to be away from my family since Molly was born. Suzy fussed and fretted over getting me packed and ready, and extracted numerous promises not to succumb to the seductions of "those slutty French and Italian girls." I also promised to email her every day.

Suzy needn't have worried. I had no intention of being unfaithful anyway, but even if I had, there was no time for it. I was busy with meetings almost every day, and exhausted the few days we had off. I did keep my promise about emailing, though, and Suzy wrote me back, sometimes several times a day. At first, her emails were mostly questions about what it was like over there, and reports of the minutiae of running the household. As time went on, though, it became clear that Suzy was getting increasingly sexually frustrated. She went from writing "Missing you!" to "Missing you between my legs! ;-)" Eventually, her emails became almost frantic with lust. I saved all of those emails, like the following:

My sweet husband, I love you and crave you so much! I have to touch myself every night just to get to sleep. You know how you like to watch me play with myself sometimes? The other night, I moved the standing mirror in front of the bed, then masturbated in front of it. I gave myself instructions, pretending that it was you ordering me around. I needed to be really bad, because of how horny I am. I told myself things like,

'Fuck yourself hard with that big dildo, you slut! Pinch those nipples and squeeze those fat tits!'

Then I turned my ass toward the mirror and bent over. I strained my neck to see how I looked in mirror, and I spoke to you:

'Do you like what you see? Can you see my tight little ass and my wet, hungry pussy? You're the only one whose ever taken my ass, you know. I first gave it to you because I love you, and you wanted it, but now I crave your cock in it.'

Then I got out the butt-plug and fucked myself in the ass with one hand and rubbed my clit with the other. I was moaning,

'Fuck my ass, Daddy! Show me how you own it! I love pleasing you with my ass!'

I was really loud. You know how I get too loud sometimes? I hope Molly didn't hear and think her mother was some kind of pervert. But I explained to her that it was okay, because everything you do in bed for a good man you love is right. I'm being dirty for my husband, who is so sweet to us and such a good provider, so that makes it okay. Does the thought of me doing dirty things because I miss you turn you on? I hope so! I also hope you'll masturbate to thoughts of me being a bad girl for you. Cum right before you sleep, and rub it all over the shaft of your cock. Will you do that for your wife, who loves you so much? Then in the morning, look at the dried cum on your cock, and while you're masturbating in the shower, pretend that you're ordering me to suck it clean. You've only ordered me to suck your cum-covered cock clean that one time, and I have to admit that I wish you'd do it again. When you write me back, tell me what kind of dirty things you said while you imagined your wife sucking the dried cum off your cock. I hope you like this email. Love, Suzy

Did I like this email? I loved it! I read it in my hotel room after a long day of work. I stripped my clothes off, set my alarm for the next morning, got some lotion out, and worked my cock while I re-read the email, again and again. Suzy had packed a small, framed picture of her and Molly for me to keep at my bedside, so I glanced over at it from time to time, imagining all those filthy things coming out of the sweet face of my beautiful but innocent-looking wife. I touched myself gently and slowly at first, to build up the intensity of my desire even more, but soon I was furiously pumping my cock. As I got closer to cumming, I began to focus on the loving faces in the bedside photo. Remembering Suzy's request, when I started to cum, I put my free hand just over the cap of my cock as I shot what seemed like a huge load of spunk into my palm. I rubbed the cum all over my still twitching shaft and was asleep in seconds.

The next morning, I woke up rock hard, with memories of Suzy's email. I also had vague memories of an erotic dream. I think I was fucking Suzy in it, except that she had dark hair in the dream. Before getting in the shower, I looked at the dried spunk on my cock. I moaned as I imagined ordering Suzy to suck it clean. I wish she had told me before how much that turned her on. I had a feeling she was going to be sucking me clean after sex a lot in the future. I got in the shower and, as I lathered up my cock and began to stroke it, I imagined all the filthy things I would say to Suzy.

"You like sucking dirty cock, don't you, you slut? Can you taste your own cunt on my cock? You like the taste of cunt? Since you're so hungry for cunt, maybe I'll fuck another woman in front of you, then make you suck my spunk and her cunt cream off my cock while I watch."

I remembered how loud Suzy got when she was really turned on, and how often I had to put my hand over her mouth so she wouldn't wake up Molly. Then it hit me. I had read Suzy's email so many times I almost had it memorized. One line popped into my head:

"I hope Molly didn't hear and think her mother was some kind of pervert. But I explained to her that it was okay, because everything you do in bed for a good man you love is right. I'm being dirty for my husband, who is so sweet to us and such a good provider, so that makes it okay."

She had written, "I explained to her," not "I would have explained to her." And then she wrote, "who is so sweet to us," as if this was part of something she had spoken to Molly. I suddenly had this feeling in my stomach that was a combination of shame and desire, but I kept stroking my cock, slowly but firmly. Maybe Suzy just didn't express herself as she meant to. Yes, probably. I imagined Suzy's trembling hands as she typed the email, maybe using one hand while the other teased the wet slit of her pussy. This was an unedited expression of her passion, not a precisely worded document. I'm probably making something out of nothing.

Still...this train of thought unleashed a wave of dark fantasies. They came in vignettes: Molly listening with rapt attention at the door of our bedroom to her mother's filthy moaning...she's disgusted but also intrigued...Suzy catching Molly at the door...Suzy gently explaining to Molly that it was okay to want a man you loved like that...Suzy showing Molly our sex toys and explaining what each one did...Molly thoughtfully caressing and squeezing that huge dildo with the fleshlike texture...Suzy encouraging Molly to put the dildo in her mouth, and instructing her in how to suck it...she's taking Molly's hair in her left hand, and using the other one to force the dildo deeper down Molly's throat..."relax your throat, but don't worry if you gag on it a little," she whispers, "your father likes it if you gag on it...."

The orgasm ripped through me, from head to toes. My cock spurted across the shower, leaving long trails of spunk on the tile. I leaned against the wall, the water beating on my back. As soon as the blood returned to my brain, I felt confused. I couldn't process my emotions. Then I remembered what Suzy had said that night after the hot tub incident: "fantasies never hurt anything, right?" I nodded, and finished showering.

I decided that part of the reason I had such a weird fantasy was that, the night before, I had been masturbating while looking at the photo by my bedside that included not just Suzy but also Molly. I had a few random vacation photos of Suzy on my phone, but nothing that was really good stroking material. What I need was a sexy photo of my wife. So in my email to Suzy that evening, I said, "It was so sweet of you to send that photo of you and Molly for my bedside table. It reminds me of how lucky I am to have such a great family. But that photo is not really appropriate for the times when I'm feeling really lonely. I would love to have a tastefully sexy photo of you. Could you send one for your lonely, special man?"

I must have had a smile on my face all of the following day, as I anticipated what Suzy would send me. I would have been delighted with just a few shots of Suzy in some of her sexy lingerie, but even though I asked for something "tasteful," part of me was hoping that she would send some photos of herself in some utterly filthy and degrading poses. When I got back to my room, I hurriedly opened my email and beamed when I saw there was a jpeg attachment. I clicked the attachment before I even read the letter...and my jaw dropped.

It was a fully nude shot. Suzy had obviously set the camera on the dresser with the auto-timer on, so that she got a shot of herself lengthwise on our bed. She was sitting up, so her tits were well displayed, and she was smiling wickedly at the camera. But what really left me stunned was something else about the photo: my daughter was sitting beside her on the bed in the same pose, also naked, and she and her mother were holding a sign that said, "We miss you, Daddy!"

Perhaps I should have been disgusted, or angry, or something. But, to be completely honest, all I could think was, "This photo is so fucking hot." After staring at it for a few moments, I opened the accompanying letter:

To my darling husband -- I told Molly about how you asked for a sexy photo of us to go with the sweet family photo you keep at your bedside. At first she was a little shocked, but I explained that she was a beautiful young lady now, and every man will find her attractive. How could her father not notice too? Besides, think how hard it is for your father, knowing that some day he'll have to give you away to some boy half his age, who'll get to touch a body your father will never even get to see? She seemed to understand, so we opened a bottle of wine and I asked her for advice about how to pose. I know she's not very experienced, but I thought it would be good practice for her to start thinking about what kinds of poses men like. She was a little timid to say what she was thinking at first, but before long we were laughing hysterically as we tried to outdo each other by coming up with more and more outrageous possible poses. Of course, we know you asked for something tasteful, so we didn't use any of those ideas.

Eventually, Molly suggested we recreate the way it looked in the hot tub that evening. I thought that was a great idea, but the camera lens kept fogging up and there was nowhere good to place the camera to get a good shot anyway. So then we decided to just pose together in our bedroom. It took us several tries to get it just right. First, I was nude and Molly was in her bikini. But then she started asking me what it felt like to have your picture taken naked. It was so cute, because she obviously wanted to be photographed naked, but was shy about asking for it. I invited her to take her bikini off for a shot, but she said that she was just asking because she was curious. We went through several repetitions of this: her asking questions, me inviting, her declining, again and again, until finally I just said, "Young lady, that is it! Take your bikini off right now!" I had to practically pull it off of her, but then I reassured her how beautiful she is, and much you would like the photo, so make sure to be complimentary about her in your next email (and don't mention that I asked you to say something). Oh, and finally, I had the idea about the sign, which I think really gives the whole thing a sweet touch. We really hope you enjoy the photo! Please write back soon and let us know! You know we'll be anxious until we hear back! <3 <3 <3 XOXO Your loving wife, Suzy

I quickly went back and re-read the email in which I asked for the photo. I knew what I meant, but the email was definitely ambiguous. I couldn't blame Suzy or Molly. They had just done what they thought I had asked of them, trying to be the best wife and daughter they could be. But now they were waiting for my response. What should I say? lf I explained that this was all a big misunderstanding, they'd both be humiliated. If I complimented them, but tried to keep it low key and non-sexual, like I was writing a scholarly essay on a painting, they'd be devastated, feeling unattractive. I looked again at the photo. I needed to be honest about my reaction.

Suzy's and Molly's bodies were gorgeous, and they were such a perfect pair: mature and nubile; fair and dark; voluptuous and lithe; experienced and virginal. They were both a little flushed, partially from the wine they had been drinking but partially from the arousal of displaying themselves for my pleasure. Suzy's expression was the seductive look of an experienced, sensual woman. I looked at those full lips that had kissed and pleasured me countless times, and those wonderfully heavy breasts that I never tired of caressing and squeezing. Her right hand was holding up the sign, but her left arm was around Molly's shoulder, hugging her. The touch seemed affectionate and protective, but also possessive and commanding. I had a vision of Suzy ordering Molly to take off her bikini, and it made me gasp.

Molly's back was straight, making her firm, young breasts jut out to excellent effect. Any man would love to touch them, to kiss them, to taste them. Her fresh young face betrayed a subtle mix of emotions. There was clearly desire in those eyes, but it was furtive and unsure of itself. She clearly craved approval and validation for her sexuality. She looked at the camera, and through the camera at me, to get it. She needn't have been unsure: any straight man would want to have her. Mother and daughter: and they were both mine. Seeing them presented for me like that made me feel so virile, so powerful. I did have a harem, didn't I?

I took my cock out. The cap was already covered in pre-cum, which I swirled around the mushroom-shaped tip. But then I paused. What exactly was I going to write back? I was no doubt going to be up half the night masturbating while fantasizing about fucking both of them, again and again. It seemed crass, though, to give them all the filthy details, especially to Molly, who wasn't used to that sort of thing. I needed to say something that was honest and passionate, but also as tasteful as the photo. Then I realized the perfect solution. I sent them the preceding two paragraphs, just as I have them above. The only thing I added at the end were a few lines addressed specifically to Molly:

"My wonderful daughter -- This photo is a very special present that I will cherish always. Thank you for humoring your old father. You have grown to be so beautiful, and so desirable. Thank you for sharing that beauty with your father, who loves you so much. You deserve a wonderful husband who will always treasure you as I treasure your mother. Wait for him. You will find him, and you will know when it is him. Love, Dad"

The next day I got emails from both the girls. Suzy sent me an email gushing with happiness and affection. She also sent me a photo of her face and upper body, cropped just so you couldn't quite see her nipples. She was very flushed, with a facial expression I had gotten to know well. The caption of the photo read, "Guess where both my hands are? ;-)"

Molly's email told me how she had cried with joy at what a beautiful email I had sent, and how she wanted to marry a guy just like me. She explained that she was really nervous about the photo at first, but her mother helped her feel good about it, and she was so happy she could do something to repay me for all that I had done for her. There was a P.S. "Do I have a nice butt? Because I hear guys like rounder butts like Mom's. Do some guys like smaller butts like mine?"

I explained that some guys like big, round butts, while some like small, tight butts, and really discerning men, like me, enjoy both. That was a diplomatic answer, but also a true one. The following day, I got an email with another photo: it was the the two of them with their backs to the camera, Suzy with her left hand on Molly's ass, and Molly with her right hand on Suzy's. They were both looking over their shoulders laughing at the camera.

I took to sending an individual email each day to Suzy and to Molly. I always sent the one to Suzy first, and made sure it was longer. (Because she's my wife, and I'm no fool.) My emails to Molly were never about anything sexual, unless she asked a specific question, because I didn't want it to be awkward when I came home.