Husband encourages Wife to fuck widowed elderly dad
After Mom died, Dad fell apart. He was 72, still strong in the shoulders and thick through the middle from years of work, but the house went quiet and his nights turned long. He’d sit in his recliner with the TV low, one hand absently rubbing the soft bulge in his sweatpants like he didn’t even realize he was doing it. My husband, Mike, noticed before I did. One night after we’d fucked and were lying there sweaty, he said, “Your dad’s lonely as hell. If you ever want to take care of him… I’m fine with it. Just tell me everything. Every filthy detail.”
I was 34, married six years, thick everywhere Mike liked heavy tits that spilled out of every bra, a soft round belly, wide hips, and an ass that jiggled when I walked. BBW all the way. I’d always been close to Dad. The idea should have disgusted me. Instead it made my cunt clench.
The first time I went over alone, I wore a thin white tank with no bra and tiny black shorts that rode up my thick thighs. Dad opened the door in an old T-shirt and gray sweatpants. His eyes dropped straight to my tits. The soft outline of his cock stirred immediately.
“Jesus, honey… you look…”
“I know what I look like, Daddy.” I stepped in, shut the door, and pressed my soft body against him. My heavy breasts mashed into his chest. I felt him harden against my soft belly. “Mom’s gone. You’re still a man. You still need to come. Let me help.”
He made a broken sound. I dropped to my knees right there in the hallway, tugged his sweatpants down, and his thick, heavy cock sprang free veiny, slightly drooping with age but already swelling, the head shiny and wet. I wrapped both hands around it, stroked slowly, then opened my mouth and took him in. The taste was pure Dad salt, musk, old man cock. I sucked wet and loud, cheeks hollowing, tongue working the underside while my hands pumped what wouldn’t fit. Spit ran down my chin onto my tits. He groaned my name like a prayer and a curse at the same time.
I pulled off just long enough to say, “Mike knows. He wants me to tell him every second. How your cock tastes. How you’re going to fuck your daughter’s fat cunt.” Then I swallowed him again, deeper, until my nose pressed into the soft gray hair at his base and I gagged around him.
He came hard thick, bitter ropes flooding my mouth. I swallowed every drop, milked him with my tongue, then stood up, wiped my shiny lips with the back of my hand, and kissed him so he could taste himself on me.
That night I went home and told Mike everything while he fucked me. He came harder than he had in months listening to how I’d drained my own father.
The next time I went over I didn’t pretend. I walked in, locked the door, and stripped in the living room. My heavy tits swung free, nipples already hard. My soft belly and wide hips were on full display. Dad stared like a starving man. I climbed onto his lap in the recliner, straddling him, grinding my wet panties against the growing bulge in his pants.
“Take them off, Daddy. I want your cock in me.”
He did. I pulled my panties aside and sank down onto him in one slow, wet slide. My thick thighs spread wide around his hips. His cock stretched me open thicker than I expected, the head pushing deep. I moaned loud, rolling my hips so my soft ass slapped against his thighs. My tits bounced in his face. He grabbed them with both hands, squeezed hard, sucked one fat nipple into his mouth while I rode him.
“Fuck, baby… so tight… so wet for your old man…”
I rode him harder, grinding my clit against his pubic bone, the wet sounds filthy and constant. “Your cock feels so good in your daughter’s cunt, Daddy. Fill me up. I want your cum dripping out of me when I go home to Mike.”
He lasted longer the second time. When he finally came, he buried himself deep and pulsed, flooding me with thick, hot spurts. I kept rocking until every drop was inside me, then lifted off so he could watch his cum leak out of my stretched hole and run down my thick thighs.
I stayed the night. In his bed the same bed he’d shared with Mom I sucked him hard again, then got on all fours so he could fuck me from behind. His hands sank into the soft flesh of my ass, spreading me open. He pushed in deep and started thrusting, the slap of his hips against my ass loud and wet. My tits swung heavily under me. He reached around, found my clit, and rubbed while he pounded me.
“Tell me how it feels,” he grunted.
“It feels like my daddy is owning this fat cunt. Harder. Use me. Make me come on your cock.”
I cam first, clenching hard around him, juices soaking his balls. He followed seconds later, grinding deep and flooding me again. We stayed locked together until he softened and slipped out. His cum ran out of me onto the sheets. I reached back, scooped some up, and licked my fingers clean while he watched.
In the morning I woke him with my mouth, sucked him until he was hard, then climbed on and rode him slow and deep while the morning light came through the curtains. My soft belly pressed against his. My heavy tits hung in his face. He came inside me one more time, quieter, almost gentle, holding my hips like he was afraid I’d disappear.
I went home still full of him. Mike was waiting. I didn’t shower. I stripped, pushed him onto the bed, and sat on his face so he could taste his father-in-law’s cum mixed with my own juices. While he licked me clean I told him every detail how Dad’s cock tasted, how it felt stretching me, how his hands gripped my thick ass, the exact sounds he made when he flooded my cunt, the way his cum leaked out of me afterward.
Mike fucked me hard after that, coming with a groan while I whispered, “That’s two loads in me today, baby. Daddy’s and yours.”
It became regular. Sometimes I went over in the afternoon, dropped to my knees in the kitchen, and sucked him off while dinner cooked. Sometimes I spent the night and we fucked until we were both sore me on top so he could watch my tits bounce, him behind me so he could slap my ass and watch it jiggle, or me on my back with my thick thighs spread wide while he knelt between them and drove into me.
I told Mike everything. The way Dad’s cock pulsed when he came. The filthy things he whispered“Good girl… take Daddy’s cum… such a tight little slut for your old man.” The way I left the house with his seed drying on my thighs and the smell of sex still on my skin.
Dad never asked me to stop. Mike never asked me to stop. And I never wanted to. My elderly father’s cock belonged in my mouth and my cunt as much as my husband’s did, and I made sure both of them knew it in the most graphic, sticky detail possible.
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