She was no longer angry about his betrayal, his deceit. She was just confused, uncertain how to react now she knew.She stroked Romeo and told him he was a good dog, then she blew out the candle, and in pitch blackness she got down on all fours, elbows and knees, with her knees well apart, and kept very still.While Romeo sniffed and licked, she thought back through all the many ways Gordon had tricked her. Suddenly Romeo got up on her back, and she felt his cock probing, but he couldn't find her holes and she wasn't yet ready to help him, so he gave up and got down and went back to licking. Brenda started breathing again.She knew that some women finding themselves in her position might march across the street, hammer on his door, and demand compensation for his abuse of privacy. But no, that option never even occurred to her. She did consider going across the street and telling him she knew, and asking him if they could continue as before.But what would be the point of that? Would it. Liz had to go to work early, and was downstairs fixing breakfast and brewing coffee when I got out of bed and climbed into the shower. The cubicle was a large one, some four feet square, with a seat at the side opposite the jets – it was fitted with six water jets, powered by pumps, aimed at one’s body, plus a shower head for hair-washing. The jets and shower head were independently controllable.I had stepped inside and begun rubbing down with shower gel when I felt a draught, and turned in time to see Becky, nude, climb in behind me. She held me by the waist as she moved around to face me with her back to the jets, which were turned on.“Can I help, Dad?” she asked. It was a rhetorical question, as she grabbed the shower gel and began to spread it on my torso and arms before working her way down to where my cock was responding to her nearness and anticipating where she was going next.Sure enough, she soaped my cock and balls, gently massaging the gel in before letting the jets wash it.
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