It was enough.*A few days later, Rachel was sitting on the couch, watching one of herfavorite programs, when Bobby came and joined her. She was sitting withher back up against the couch and her legs straight out in front, herfeet resting on the coffee table. Bobby sat in a similar fashion.As they watched television together, neither of them spoke, justbonding. Rachel quickly noticed that Bobby was repeatedly stealingglances at the yoga pants she was wearing, and she smiled. He mustreally want to have his own pair. Deciding to do something before hisglances moved from cute to annoying, Rachel turned to her son."Bobby," she said, "why don't you go and get my other pair from mydresser. You should know where they are."Bobby pretended to be confused. "What are you talking about?" he asked."Other pair of what?"Rachel gave him a knowing look that told him not to bother pretending,and that, as his mother, she would always be able to tell when he waslying. Bobby sighed and looked longingly at. Daddy’s daughter-wife. I had wanted to find a man who would let me fuck other guys, to be a whore, and I found that person in the best man in the world.My daddy!I squeezed Mom’s breasts, wiggling my hips, knowing Daddy watched me as much as Principal Carver. I sucked and nibbled on Mom’s nipple, my pussy juices running down my thighs as they both stared at me.“Oh, Daughter, you are so sweet,” Mom groaned, her hands sliding up my body to my firm, teenage titties. She squeezed them, her thumbs sweeping across my breasts and brushing my nipples. “Isn’t she, Ian?”“Yes,” the principal groaned. “She is, Jawdat.”“Mrs. Umayyah,” growled my husband. “Show my slave-wife respect.”“Yes, yes, Mrs. Umayyah,” squeaked the principal. “I’m so sorry for insulting your ... slave-wife.” “And you’re going to fuck her whore-cunt,” growled Daddy, his voice so throaty. He got off on ordering us to be such sluts.I loved it.“You are, Ian,” moaned my mom. “My Daughter and I are going to love you. So how would.
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