'Sleep-over night isn't so bad.' I think to myself as my eyes rove over the pair of you at the dinner table with a warm smile. The wife's gone for the weekend, which means the usual sounds of nagging and arguing at dinner have instead been replaced by animated gossiping and fits of giggling. I watch your eyes dart to mine covertly every so often as you nibble on a slice of cheese pizza. I feel your little feet kicking mine intermittently under the table. I play it cool though, face betraying no sign of the flirtation going on right underneath my daughter's nose.

Afterwards, I depart from the kitchen with a belly full of greasy pizza as you two scamper off, little feet sounding off the staircase until I hear the tell-tale slam of my daughter's door upstairs. I stash the leftovers and grab a beer from the fridge, heading to my recliner-throne in the living room, ready to drink and watch hockey, uninterrupted, and make the most of my impromptu “vacation.” I hear the occasional thud or yelling upstairs, but am otherwise able to enjoy the game and catch a healthy buzz until it's way past my usual bedtime.

After the game ends, it's well past 1am, and I may have drank a bit more than is good for me. Feeling relaxed, if a bit groggy, I turn the tv off, lock the front door and shut all the lights in the house off. I make my way upstairs, my footfalls a bit unsteady. As expected, the light in my daughter's room is off, but I notice with a frown the thin beam of light being emitted from beneath the door of the master bedroom. I open the door lightly. The first sensation that hits my nostrils is the heady scent of my wife's perfume.

There, sitting on the edge of the bed, is you, looking me dead in the eyes with an unreadable expression on your face. The first thing I notice is you're wearing my wife's lacy black lingerie, and nothing else. The fit isn't quite right, as you don't quite fill out her curves, but the message you send wearing her tasteful, seductive undergarments is heard loud and clear, traveling well past my conscious mind into my primal male brain, stirring my groin as my eyes devour the feast in front of my very eyes.

The second thing I notice is the little golden tube sitting next to you on the bed. My wife's red lipstick, to be precise. I look up at your face. Eyes lined, upper lid shaded in a sultry purple, giving you that classic 'hooker' look. I look at your lips. The amount of times you've run my wife's waxy red cosmetic across them to over-line and color them in gives them an appearance that can only be summed up in two words: Blowjob lips. My cock twinges in my pants as I imagine violating your hot, wet little mouth.

I turn and close the door quietly, locking it before I take another look at you. I blink, as if questioning the sight in front of me is real, and not just a figment of my buzzed imagination. Convinced that this is actually happening, I take my t-shirt off, exposing a bare chest and belly once firm and toned, now inlaid with a healthy layer of dad-fat. I look you dead in the eye.

“I knew you had a crush on me, but I didn't think you'd go this far to get my attention.” I say with a lewd wink.

“Who wears it better?” I hear you pipe up, your voice quavering almost imperceptibly. I pull my pants down, wiggling and shimmying until I'm wearing nothing but my white boxer-briefs before I walk right to you, taking your little chin in hand and raising it to meet my gaze.

“You do.” I admit, running a strong, calloused thumb across your cheek. 'How you've grown.' I think to myself, noting how the baby fat around your cheeks has dissipated completely, giving you the blooming appearance of a ravishing young lady.

“I think you're wearing a bit too much lipstick, though. Maybe I can help you find something to dab it off onto.” I croon, my gravelly baritone voice assuming its most sultry tone as I wrap my fingers behind your earlobe and draw your face to my crotch. I shudder out in contentment as I feel your soft lips kissing the outline of my stiffening cock through my underwear, leaving vivid red imprints of your lips in my wife's designer red lipstick.

'Sleep-over night isn't so bad.' I find myself thinking again as my dick throbs against your slutty little mouth, withdrawing only slightly to strip out of my stained boxers to expose myself to you, my daughter's hot, home-wrecking bestie.

------

Hey! So obviously, this is the payoff I'd like to play on. Whether we start off here or work up to this, I'll leave up to you. Let me know if you're feeling a slow-burn where we let the tension build with innocent texting, “accidental” selfies, flirtatious meets with ambiguous meanings, things like that, or if you're just a naughty, kinky little home-wrecker that just want some Dad-action right meow!

Kinks: Lipstick marks, phenomenally sloppy oral, facials, creampies, throatpies, intercourse and outercourse, every “job” you can think of, cuddlefucks, aftercare, kissing, jealousy, possessiveness, competitiveness, cockwarming, watersports, CFNM, bimbofication, cheating and homewrecking sluts, bratty behavior, dressup/cosplay/slutty outfits/outfit control, blatant teasing, degradation, seduction, hyperspermia and excessive cum, cum-play, multiple loads and much more!!

Limits: Cuckold, pegging, futa, anthro/non-human, celeb, vore, gore, snuff, scat.