I sat bolt upright in my chair. “What?”
“There are two police officers here,” Mary said, my daughter’s mouth twisted with worry. “Belle is talking to them now.”
My heart leapt, and my mind started racing, imagining every possible worst-case scenario happening at once. Had someone seen the blowjob I’d received that day? Had someone planted a security camera in the house and captured every obscene act we’d partaken in over the last two weeks?
Or maybe Mary and Belle hadn’t really switched bodies at all. Maybe they’d set this all up to see what I’d do, to see if I truly was the honorable man I’d claimed to be…and now that I’d failed, they’d turned me in, and I was going to spend the rest of my life rotting in prison for the horrible acts that I’d committed.
“It’s okay,” my wife said soothingly, reaching our daughter’s arm out and touching my arm. In my panic, I slapped it away, immediately regretting my actions when I saw the hurt in her eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “We should…I should…can we…”
“Go,” she said simply, and I almost tripped over my own feet as I ran down the hall.
My wife’s body was standing at the front door as Belle talked to the two police officers. One of them looked like he was a few years older than me, while the other looked like he could have been half my age.
“What seems to be the problem?” I stammered, and they threw me a casual glance
The older one smiled, immediately putting me at ease. Policemen don’t look so friendly when they’re about to arrest you for fucking your teenage daughter.
“I’m handling this,” Belle said firmly, but I pressed on.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, sir,” the younger cop said. “We just, uh…”
He trailed off, and it took me a moment to work out why. My wife had apparently decided this was the best possible time to come and listen—and rather than hiding around a corner, she’d planted our daughter’s body in the middle of the room, squarely in sight of both police officers.
And trust me—they’d noticed.
I coughed politely, and the two men standing in front of me tore their attention away from my daughter’s exposed skin. The older cop resumed answering my question.
“Someone, uh, reported a strange car hanging around last night,” he said, referring to his notes. “We’re just checking to see if anyone knows anything.”
“N-no,” I said, utterly unconvincingly.
“Andrew. I’m handling this.”
My wife’s tone was so stern that for a moment, I wondered if Mary and Belle had switched back. If that wasn’t my wife, she was doing a pitch-perfect impersonation of her…but a glance back at my daughter’s body confirmed that yes, that was still Mary.
Belle enjoyed showing off, but Mary’s exhibitionism was on its own level. She was completely shameless—her arms were behind her back, pushing Belle’s bust forward in a way that showed off her assets while still somehow looking unintentional. As the three of us watched, she tucked one leg behind the other, drawing our attention to her long, smoothly-shaved skin. She swayed back and forth slightly, enough motion to cause her breasts to wobble oh-so-slightly.
She was a walking wet dream, and the combination of her curvy body and innocent attitude was enough to give me an immediate, throbbing erection…despite the two policeman standing right in front of me. Not a particularly smart move, right? They’d likely arrest me if they even suspected I had anything but pure thoughts about my daughter.
“Go to bed,” I growled, wishing—not for the first time—that I was a far better actor than I was.
“Okay Daddy,” she said, and sashayed her way out of the room.
I forced a neutral expression onto my face, then turned back to the cops and rolled my eyes. “Kids, right?”
“Uh huh,” the older one said with a grunt.
“I’ll take care of this,” Belle said once more, and—unable to come up with an excuse to stay—I left her to talk to the police, and decided to find my wife.
The door to my daughter’s bedroom was closed. I don’t know if it was intuition or luck, but instead of just opening the door, I paused, instead pressing my ear up against the wooden barrier.
Seconds later, I was firmly marching back downstairs. It had only taken me a moment to tell what was happening—my wife had apparently enjoyed the attention of the two police officers (and my own lustful gaze)…from what I heard, I’d guess that Belle’s body was laid out on the bed, loudly masturbating.
Even the Andrew of two days ago might have pushed the door open and hissed at her to stop, but I am not one to make the same mistake twice. If I’d gone in there, I doubt I would have been able to extract myself from the situation without being persuaded to get her off…or at the very least, letting her suck my cock while she finished the job herself.
Even with the police downstairs. Even with Belle (in my wife’s body) coming back any moment. Yeah. I simply didn’t trust myself—or my wife—any more. The only way to avoid getting into a dangerous situation was to avoid my daughter’s body.
At least while she was this worked up.
And so I made my way back to the kitchen, firmly planted my rear end in the chair once more, and sat, desperately hoping that Mary wasn’t so lust-drunk that she’d be loud enough for our visitors to hear.
It felt like an eternity before Belle (in my wife’s body) joined me. When she did, her worried expression made my heart sink.
“What is it?”
“Spike,” she replied, shocking me.
“The guy who…dumped Belle?” I asked, playing dumb.
“Yeah,” she nodded, biting her mother’s lip. It was a gesture my wife only did when she was trying to turn me on, but when Belle did it (in her own body, anyway) it was typically a sign of nervousness.
The signals were confusing (and the haze of lust I felt like we’d been living in for the past few days certainly didn’t help), but I gestured for her to continue.
“He was here last night. I…I went out to see him.”
My brow furrowed. Even if my daughter had used Mary’s body to fuck him, she…she wouldn’t just tell me about it, would she?
“Why?” I asked, unable to hide my confusion. Fortunately, in this situation, my reaction made sense no matter what Belle thought I knew.
My wife’s eyes flicked around the room, eventually landing on me.
“…I bought some weed from him.”* * *