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It was like he knew. So, I folded the covers down off my bare top and when I knew daddy would be in full view, I leaned over and turned the switch of the lamp on the bedside table on and let him see. Not only did daddy see my small protrusions peeking out, but I saw how erect he was. God, I loved seeing my daddy's hard cock! "My daddy, a part of you is so hard," I said, which I knew was very cheesy, but it worked for the moment. "Yes, Ella, very much so." "Would you like me to give it more attention?" "That's why I'm here. I want you to make me cum!" "I'd love too, daddy. Come lie beside me. I know just how to do so." I loved how daddy's hard cock bounced as he walked over to my bed. It was just so perfect. As he approached, I slid the rest of the covers off of me and let them hang off the end of my bed to the floor. Daddy fell into my bed with me and immediately, my eyes went right to his hard-on that pointed perfectly upward. I could not wait until I tasted it and played with his. Of course, it was the thought of her with her other lovers that excited me. I wanted my wife to be sluttish, promiscuous, wanton, debauched. As she once was. But she would not have a bar of it. She had turned a corner in her life, and settled into monogamy, and we tapered off into a quiet routine of occasional, barely satisfying sex. Then I saw Catherine’s ad; found myself waiting in the bar to talk with someone, in whose high-heeled shoes, I wanted my own wife. Catherine was composed, quite lovely, elegantly dressed, and overwhelmingly desirable. I was one of the chosen three, along with the man who was organising the evening. The Arranger. I went up to Room 319 at the appointed time, and joined the other three men in suits, and took a glass of the offered champagne. Catherine came out from the bedroom alcove, dressed in an outfit that screamed lust, celebration, and unfettered womanhood. She wore six inch blood red high heels, the black tight bodice, pushing up her creamy white.
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