Around lunchtime on Sunday, I started feeling guilty.
I’d spent the entire morning in a state of tension, just knowing that Mary was going to pull me aside and try to fool around. I’d been so sure that she wasn’t going to be able to stick to her word.
By noon, I realized that I’d greatly underestimated my wife, and I felt terrible.
She was playing the role perfectly; sulking about being grounded, complaining about the date that she’d been forced to miss. She’d perhaps laid it on a little too thick—around three, Belle had used my wife’s body to sit me down and talk.
“Lovey-dove,” she started, a grimace flitting across her face as the term of endearment left her mouth, “don’t you worry that we’re being a little harsh on Belle?”
“No,” I said flatly. Perhaps it wasn’t the best approach to take—confirming our daughter’s view of us as overly-harsh dictators—but there was no way I was going to risk Mary using my daughter’s body to go on a date.
She’d said it herself; she wouldn’t be able to resist.
“No,” I repeated. “She brought this on herself. Using such language on her mother.”
For a moment, I wondered if perhaps I was the one laying it on a little thick. I’d been saying ‘cunt’ since I was fifteen. I’d been friends with an Australian—they use the word as commonly as conjunctions.
My wife had surprised me that morning with her self-control; my daughter surprised me in that conversation with her maturity.
“Yeah,” she said softly, and I could tell that she was very far away. “It’s not cool, is it?”
“No,” I repeated, a half-smile on my face. “It’s not cool.”
We sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes (something I feel like I haven’t done with my daughter since she was in diapers) before she pulled herself together and stood up.
“Where are you going?” I asked, tilting my head to the side.
“Out,” my wife said, a sullen tone in her voice. It took her a few moments to remember her situation; I carefully avoided looking at her as she caught up. “Uh, I mean…out, sweety-bum! Errands. Just going on some errands.”
Something was afoot, and I didn’t like it. For a moment, an image passed through my mind—my daughter tracking Spike down, using my wife’s body to…
No. No, she’d never do that.
No matter what, I knew that my daughter would never do that.
“I’ve got some errands to go on as well,” I said, standing up casually. “Maybe I’ll come with you.”
“No!” my wife’s mouth squeaked. Belle took a second, trying to act calmly. “No. No, no need for that.”
“Well, where are you going? Maybe we’re not going in the same direction.”
“Definitely not!” Belle replied, nervously twisting my wife’s top. “Opposite direction.”
“Mary,” I said slowly. Some would say ‘patronizingly’. “How do you know? I haven’t told you where I’m going.”
With a sigh, my wife’s body collapsed back in the chair.
“Fine,” she said. “You caught me!”
I stifled a laugh. This was the exact response, in both words and movement, my daughter had once given me when she was nine.
“Belle asked me to head up to the outlet mall for her.”
“There’s a dress on sale,” she said.
“The outlet mall is forty minutes each way,” I said, scratching my head. “Why would…”
Suddenly, my wife’s good behavior all morning made a lot more sense.
“You don’t understand,” Belle huffed, rolling my wife’s eyes. “It’s a Hot Kiss dress, and it’s more than fifty-percent off. It’s so cute, and…”
“Why doesn’t she just go?” I asked, and answered the question at the same time as my wife.
“‘She’s grounded’. Right.”
“I agree she should be grounded,” Belle said, surprising me again. I smiled at her, and she turned a poor imitation of my wife’s best puppy-dog eyes in my direction. “What she did was…”
“It was across the line.”
My eyebrows shot up.
“But she was so good this morning.”
Yes, I thought. And now I know why.
“And the dress is so cute…”
I waved away the dreamy expression in my wife’s tone.
“Go,” I said with a sigh. “My errands are in the opposite direction anyway.”
“Thank you thank you thank you!” she gushed, before blinking twice and composing herself. “I mean. Uh…”
“You’re excited,” I said with a warm smile. “It’s fine. I’m sure she’s going to look great in it.”
The look of excitement made me nervous, but I knew better than to stand between a woman and a discounted dress.
“Drive safe, okay?”
“Bye,” she said, grabbing the keys and headed for the door. “Love you!”
“I love you too,” I said automatically, before realizing what she’d just said.
It had been literally years since our daughter told us that she loved us. We know she does, of course—we may be flawed people, but we’re good parents. All Belle’s life, we’ve never shown her anything but love and affection.
But to hear her say it, even using my wife’s mouth?
It was working. My wife’s crazy plan…was working.
Whatever the costs, it was worth it.
So it was with a spring in my step that I ascended the stairs, excited to tell Mary the good news.
I opened Belle’s bedroom door without knocking, and was met with the sight of my teenage daughter’s naked body, writhing around on the bed as she touched herself.
“Belle!” I exclaimed, shocked enough to forget who I was talking to. Not twenty minutes ago, my daughter’s body had been in the living room, fully clothed, playing with her phone.
“Andrew,” she moaned, turning to look at me, her eyes burning with lust. “Please…”
I should have turned away. I wanted to turn away. But the sight…the smell…
I was overwhelmed. Frozen in place, like a deer in the headlights.
“Please, Andrew,” my wife panted, using my daughter’s hand to pull on her long, pink nipple. I didn’t want to know it was long and pink. That was something I never, ever needed to know.
“I want to suck your cock. Let me suck your cock. Oh, god. Please. Please, honey…I need it.”