It took some explaining. I'm not sure I'll ever forget the way my son's expression changed from curiosity over the whereabouts of his girlfriend, to seeing her bare-arsed across my knee with my spunk peppering her very pink flesh. And his mother standing alongside us, her palm a similar shade to Molly's bottom.

“I'm serious, Dad. What the fuck is this?”

I'd never heard him use that particular cuss word in front of me before and its use was almost as powerful as the wave of guilt. My fatherly instinct to admonish him with “Language!” didn't feel appropriate, given I was very much in the wrong.

“It's…” My mind spins, running through options and rejecting them like The Terminator does.

Not what you think?

A long story?

An innocent misunderstanding?

Time for me to emigrate?

I go with the cop-out: “Complicated.”

It doesn't assuage him. “Compli-pigging-cated?! That the best you got? It's not complicated. She's my girlfriend not your,” he waves his hand in our direction, “plaything.”

“Aaron…”

“No, come on. You've always got an answer for everything, Dad. Perhaps you need some time to come up with an elaborate excuse? We've got all day.”

I swallow. “We just… things got out of hand here. I was trying to put things right… be firm. Your mother and I need to... stay strong. Together, don't we, love?”

She puts her hands on her hips. “Don't drag me into your mess, Andrew Tanning. You're on very thin ice as it is.”

I gulp. “I know, I know.” Swinging my gaze up to my fuming son, I attempt a shrug. “You know how Molly is. How—” I consider my words carefully, “persuading she can be. How insistent. Tempting.”

He runs a hand through his sandy hair. “Jesus, rhubarb crumble and custard is tempting but you don't have to fuck it.”

“I'm not… I haven't.” My voice goes small. “I resisted.”

His attention straying to the mess spattered across his girlfriend’s perfect arse from my gradually withering cock against her perfect shaved slit speaks volumes.

It's true. I didn't resist. Got swept up in her allure. Her teenage charm. The taste of the forbidden.

“I'm sorry. I…”

Molly shifts in my lap. Puts her feet on the floor and pivots upright, but she does it slowly to shield my member, allowing me to slip it back in my shorts before she stands fully, preserving at least a soupçon of my tattered modesty. She doesn't seem fazed that the hem of her strappy summer dress floats to cover my cum.

“Baby, it's not your dad's fault. I pushed him to it. You know what I'm like.”

He huffs. “I know, I just… just thought you were doing the odd bit of harmless flirting. Not,” he flicks his gaze to my lap, “y’know.”

She steps into his space. Trails a finger up his thigh. “He’s telling the truth. Nothing happened before this.”

My god, she's a good liar. What about when you made me shave your bum hole? When you told me to wank into your shorts and wore them? When I fingered you in the car? And all those times you've cum as I controlled your panty vibe? She plays off that girl-next-door innocence so well. Wraps everyone up in the promise of her duplicitous little pussy.

“He was trying to put me in my place when your mum came in and finished the job.” She circles his waist. “I took it too far, I’m sorry. And I've learned my lesson. Good God I've learned it.”

Aaron's gaze flicks to the swell of her tits, just like mine had when she entered our bedroom and cornered me. He sighs. “I don't know. I might have believed it but there's also the—” he mimes wanking and splays his fingers in a sort of explosion gesture.

Molly kisses his shoulder. “That was me. I took him out. He got angry and spanked me.”

Aaron shifts his attention between me and her a few times, presumably for signs of deception or collusion. I'm wily enough to keep a passive face. Shrug. “I don't have the staying power I once had.”

He regards his girlfriend who's piling on the charm. “You know I only have eyes for you. And I tell you everything. I was gonna tell you later. I was just curious to see if, well,” she brushes his dick, “you got this from him.”

His conflict is palpable and I don't know whether to say anything or keep quiet.

Something something better thought of the fool than speak and remove all doubt something something.

It does pain me to see him like this, especially knowing I'm the cause. Sort of. Well, at least the reagent if Molly is considered the catalyst. But love is hard. Give and take. Lust is harder.

He sighs. Finds my eyes and doesn't deliver the look of forgiveness I'd like. It'll take time. I need to be better. Rebuild the trust. That goes for Astrid too.

Molly strokes his shoulder and wraps herself around him tighter. “I'll dial it back, I promise. For you. We'll be at uni again next week, focusing on studies.” She lifts her head to kiss his cheek. “I'll make it up to you.”

I have no doubt she will, in her inimitable style. She has this way, this manner. Like when she hit me up on the app last week, the message pinging onto my phone while I was working from home:

“Im horny.”

“There's a surprise.”

She sent me the tongue-sticky-outy emoji.

“Where’s Aaron?”

“Visiting Tom.”

“Oh. How is he?”

Divorce must be tough on the poor kid.

“Coping. Unlike me. Im all alone in my room wearing my toy.”

“First world problems. Can't you operate it yourself?”

There was a pause, then the dots bouncing that indicated she was typing.

“I want you to do it.”

“I'm working, Molly.”

That was perhaps the wrong thing to say because the more inappropriate the setting, the more persistent she becomes.

“Wanna see how wet I am?”

“Molly…”

“Well?”

I drummed my fingers on the desk, spreadsheet a distant memory. My imagination was filled with her sprawled on the bed, that shock of pink hair a halo on the pillow as she fingered herself under some tiny excuse for clothing.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“FFS. Yes I want to see how wet you are.”

God, the things I never thought I'd write.

“You dont sound sure… ru alone?”

“Yes.”

“Then beg.”

“I'm not a fucking dog.”

“Beg to see my juicy pussy. Like you mean it.”

Jesus.

My cock stirred.

“Fine. Molly, I crave to see your naked pussy. Please show it to me.”

There was another pause as my mouth went dry at the prospect. I took a chug of water from my bottle. Expected she was framing a suggestive or downright filthy photo that would pop up shortly.

But it didn't. Instead…

Incoming video request.
Accept? Decline?

I stared. Fuck. Hobson's choice.

Tapping the screen, there was a flash and then the feed stabilised. She was indeed lying on her bed, posters on the walls, teddy bears alongside her, but the clothing I imagined she wore was non-existent. Just panties. Deep pink; an even deeper shade where they swooped between her splayed thighs and clung to her wet, shaved lips.

I stifled a gasp and she waved. A lollipop stick protruded from her mouth and she took it out.

“See what you do to me.”

She lowered the sticky pink bulb of the confectionery and rolled it over her panties. Peeled the garment aside just beneath where the magnet clipped her vibe in place, and slipped the lolly inside, her head tipping back against the pillow. A low moan echoed through my phone speaker as she began fucking herself with the sweet.

After a few strokes, she withdrew it, brought it to her other lips and sucked her juices clean, then returned it to her succulent snatch.

I was mesmerised by her act. The wet clicks of her cunt. The little gasps that bounced off her ceiling and filtered, tinny yet desperate, into my home office. I almost forgot I was able to control her toy. My finger stabbed the + to request access and it automatically connected.

Hovering my thumb over the display I timed a swoop to provide a peak vibration as her lolly dug its furthest. Then let go. She arched off the bed and groaned. “Ohhffuuck. Again.”

I waited until her hips returned to the duvet, and she leveled her gaze with mine through her phone cam. Then drew a pair of deep spikes. The swell of the buzzing met my ears a moment before her moans, that rolled away as the vibrations stopped. Controlling her and receiving audio clips shortly after the fact was incredible, but seeing and hearing the effect live, with no delay, was electrifying.

My cock stiffened fully in my jeans. She must have x-ray vision. “Come on then. I've shown you mine.”

I propped my phone on the little stand I use for work when I want to take a hands-free call. Stood. Unbuckled my belt and tugged the jeans buttons apart. Her gaze was clearly fixed on the display.

Rolling my jeans and underwear to my knees, she let out a wolf whistle. “Fuck I want that beast inside me. Stroke it.”

I gripped my shaft, its veins angry and prominent, and pumped a few times. Molly groaned and plunged her lolly in.

It occurred to me we could synchronise. Reaching for the display, I swept the vibrations up in time with my strokes and her thrusts of the sweet in her slick centre. “How's that?”

Between gasps, she nodded. “God it's like you're fucking me. More.”

I wanked and rolled the vibrations up in a steady rhythm, right to the top then back to zero, mimicking the motion of her lollipop and my fist. A drizzle of opaque cream snaked from her entrance into the crease beneath, and I growled at thoughts of lapping it up. Pushing it back inside her delicious pussy and rocking my face against her soaked slit as she arched up against me. 

We fed off one another’s excitement. As her pace increased, I kept up. Her pussy squelched and dripped, my cock swelled and leaked pre-cum that I smeared, and the vibrating pulses I sent her way made her mouth fall open. “OhGodOhGod I'm gonna cum.”

Ordinarily I'd make her—both of us—wait. Ride the edge as she gradually fell apart and became more desperate for release. But her announcement rocketed through me and I lost control. Gobs of spunk arced from my tip and splattered to the desk in front of my phone. She gasped and rammed the lolly inside her, hips raising. I shoved the vibrations to the very top and held them there as she mewled, her pussy fluttering and winking around the embedded stick.

God it was beautiful.

As her orgasm waned and a few stray droplets of spunk dribbled to my desk surface, I dialled the vibrations back. Not quite to nothing.

A slow smile spread on her glowing features, a few strands of pink plastered to her temple. She moaned. Plucked the juice-laden lolly from her cunt and sucked it clean, moaning deeper around it as the fabric returned to cover her slit, staining further.

I maintained a low rumble on the toy, my cock withering. The occasional higher pulse. She sighed in response and I worked my finger up the display. “Oh you want more, you greedy little slut?”

She bit her lip around the lolly stick. Nodded. I toyed with her clit remotely. Feathered the vibrations at first to allow the sensitivity of her first orgasm to fade, then gradually nudged them higher. I imagined it was my tongue, her juices coating my chin as I fluttered and circled and rolled around her little needy nub. Ramped the intensity until she writhed and gasped, the lolly tumbling to the sheets as she wailed, clutching her tits and squeezing them hard.

I backed off and she shook her head. “No! More!”

Back up to max it went and I swept my thumb in lazy arcs to keep her on the edge of delirium as another tremor racked her frame. She let go of her breasts, slapped them, pinched and twisted her nipples and came again, hips swaying in the air, toes curled into the mattress, staccato huffs ringing out. I swear she squirted but it may have just been intense wetness tumbling from her spasming pussy, silver strings of grool catching the sunlight, dangling and snapping to dapple the sheets beneath.

I was right there in the room with her. Sharing her joy. Dying to clean her up with my tongue.

When she finally slumped to the bed, a sticky, glowing mess of rampant teenage hormones, temporarily sated, I dialled the vibe to nothing and just watched her recover. As her breathing gradually returned to an even pace, a stupid grin spread the band of freckles on her cheeks and made way for giggles that twisted my heart.

I'm such a bad man.

The recollection fades and nobody in the room moves. Barring Molly who is stroking my son’s chest. She reiterates, “Let me make it up to you. I'll be your good girl.” A playful tone: “Your good widdle girl.”

He sighs. Shoots a killing look my way, takes Molly’s hand and leads her out of the room. Judging by her wet, gagging coughs through the wall shortly after, she's keen to tread the path towards redemption.

I reach out for Astrid’s hand. “Are we cool?”

She pulls clear. “No we're not fucking cool.”

My pulse thumps. “I'm so sorry it came to this. You were right. I should have dealt with it sooner.”

“Yes you should. Aaron's not going to forgive you anytime soon.” She levels her gaze to me. “Not sure I will either.”

“Fuck. What can I do to re-earn your trust? I mean, even though it went down exactly like she said,” I swallow, hoping the lie seems natural, “it sounds like Molly isn't going to be a problem going forward. Thanks to you stepping in.”

Astrid considers. Takes a moment longer. “What’s she got that I don't?”

“It's not like that, and you know it.”

“Then why?”

I look away. “There is no why. No nothing. Surely the fact it didn't go anywhere is testament to my commitment to you.” I revert my attention to her. “There's nothing I can get from Molly. I just didn't know how to say no to her flirting.”

“How about ‘no’?”

“Tried that; God knows I tried. Made it worse. But when she overstepped, I retaliated.” I run my hand through my hair. “Since her dad's not home much, I figured you were right and she probably needed a firm hand. Hence… y’know.”

“No I don't y’know. She had to get your cock out before you thought it was too far? How about when she stuck her cummy fingers in your mouth? That was just for fun? Harmless flirting?”

My shoulders slump. “You're right. I let it go too far. Should have been firmer from the get-go.” I slide my gaze up her svelte form and, as a coda, try to lighten the mood. “Can I just say, watching you spank her was hot.”

“Mmm. I saw the effects.”

“You should spank more people.”

“What, like you?”

“Well,” I look at the floor. “If it helps get back in your good books.”

“You're incorrigible, Andrew Tanning.”

“Guilty.”

She sighs. Tosses me a you're pathetic parting glance, looks away and strides out, blonde mane swaying above her shapely hips, leaving me to wallow in self-pity and the tail-end of Molly's spirited make-up blowjob filtering through the wall.

She's unreal.

Astrid makes me stew a lot longer. Days. Then weeks. With their return to uni, she defrosts slightly towards me. Even starts to joke around over dinner after work. The downside is that sex has stopped; cold turkey, which is a double kicker after she'd been sexually reinvigorated and seemed insatiable in recent weeks. Whether the abstinence is because the competition for my affection has disappeared or it's some punishment because she's still pissed off with me, I don't know. Could be a combination. Women are complex. I don't push it.

In truth, I'm not sure if I miss the emerging slut inside Astrid, or Molly's incessant teasing more. My head says Astrid. My pulse says Molly. My cock says both.

I find myself wanking more to compensate. Chasing the serotonin hit when she's gone to bed, visions of one or both women floating through my twisted thoughts.

It's not until seventeen days later, but who's counting, that Astrid shows a sign of interest. Dinner is done, the machine loaded, and we're loafing in front of an episode of Reacher. It ends and she switches the TV off. Turns to me. Trails a fingertip up my thigh. Stands so I'm eye level with her behind and pulls her T-shirt over her head.

There's no bra strap and my cock stirs. She throws a look over her shoulder. “Follow me.” I begin to stand. “In ten minutes.”

She accentuates the sway of her hips as she sashays her naked torso and jeans, barefoot, out the room and up the stairs.

Ten minutes is a lifetime when a horny, naked woman is waiting. Crap. Last time she made me wait to enter our bedroom, she dressed up as Molly, replete with pink wig, and I took her arse. I wonder what she has in store?

I really don't know what to expect. Jiggle my leg in anticipation, watching the clock on the mantelpiece tick inexorably forward. Or is it backwards?

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Launching from the chair, I take the stairs three at a time. Forge into the bedroom and stop. She's standing at the foot of the bed wearing nothing but sheer black panties and a strap-on dildo. The one she told me about and I'd forgotten, amid all the Molly shenanigans.

She points to her side and I cross the room. When I'm close enough, she grabs me by the lapels and unbuttons my shirt. Slithers it off my shoulders and chases it to the floor. Unbuttons my jeans and tugs those to join it. Then my undies, tapping each leg to allow her to remove everything including my socks.

When I'm naked, she stands. Circles me like she's some sort of piranha and I'm a droplet of blood in her pool. The phallus sways between her thighs and seems enormous on her smaller frame, but it's probably the same size...