" I said as I headed downstairs to the guest bedroom.When I reached the door, I could still hear the soft music playing in the room. Every so often I ...ould hear a soft moan as well. I slowly turned the knob and gently cracked the door open. Our guest bedroom has a sliding mirrored door closet which I could see the reflection of the bed without opening the door very far. My daughter had told me the truth. On the bed I could see the profile of my wife's body sitting on top of my son, who was. I began staying awake into the early morning, creepingalong the passage and listening outside her room for those samedelicious noises which had sparked this. I went through her underweardrawers, imagining stroking the silky material with her lovely fleshunderneath, especially those dark sensual stockings. I even – God helpme – took soiled panties out of the laundry, held them over my faceand inhaled that beautiful, cock-hardening smell of her womanhood. Ofcourse at least once a day. More

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