Car accident
Four days ago, my wife died. She was hurrying home, to me and our daughter, after negotiations for our joint company's business. We had an agreement that if the client was a man, I would go, and if it was a woman, she would.
"I don't want those cheap displays and advances," she would argue, explaining her refusals to meet with male clients, "and I don't want to see you with women either. But you'd have to be a complete fool to cheat on you. You are my beloved husband and my lover all in one
package. A boy like you, I doubt I'll ever find again," she would laugh, kissing my member. "After the first time, I almost ran away from you. I thought you were going to tear me apart and pierce right through me. It felt like it was going to split at the seams and tear me inside and the head was going to reach my stomach. To keep from screaming, I grabbed the pillow with my teeth and endured until you finished. Then in the bathroom, I cried quietly from the pain. And in the evening, I told my friend I probably wouldn't see you anymore and told her why. She laughed, said if I decided to break up, to introduce her to you. I decided I had to try again. Later, I always remember that with a laugh. You're just a gift to me, but back then I was terrified. When I first took you in my mouth, my jaw hurt so much, at first, opening it like that. And when I gave you my ass, remember how I screamed bloody murder, begged you to pull out and stop," my wife would tell me, laughing, "and then later I wanted to feel it inside me. Thank you for being mine. You know what else I value in you, besides being a man with a backbone in every sense, reliable and caring? You don't have hang-ups and you have sex with me the way I want and the way you want. I'm not shy with you at all, I'm not afraid to be a loose slut with you, and you take it normally—""I love you and I want to, and I like being with you. There are pretty women, but I always think, what can she give me that you can't? Moreover, she couldn't give even a fraction of what you give me, besides her love. We've been together for twenty years, but you evoke the same feelings in me as in the first year we met. I always want you. You always arouse me and I really like our sex," I replied to her then, and then we kissed and had sex again. Our daughter, Evgenia—Zhenechka—was going on nineteen and was already a student.
That day, her negotiations dragged on, I had already come home, to our country house. Zhenechka was already home when I arrived. My wife wanted to go with our daughter, picking her up on the way back, but then she called, said she had a very difficult client and asked me to call our daughter so she wouldn't wait for her.
And then I got a call from her phone and a man, introducing himself as a police officer, said my wife had died, and asked me to come to the accident site, naming the place to go.
My daughter and I drove there. From a distance, you could see a truck standing in the oncoming lane and my wife's mangled car. On the driver's side, the metal was cut away where the door should have been.
Zhenechka couldn't even get out of the car when we arrived, and I asked the ambulance medics who were there to help her. They led my daughter out and took her to their vehicle. And I started talking with the policeman.
"She had no chance of surviving such an accident. The truck driver also died. He drove into the oncoming lane and there was a very strong head-on collision. When the rescuers pulled her out, cutting the body, she was already dead. They gave me her phone and I looked at her calls, called you. You were saved in her phone as 'beloved'," said the policeman. I was barely holding back tears. When they brought her from the morgue, in a coffin and placed it on stools so family and close ones could say goodbye, I couldn't look at her, it was beyond my strength. Zhenechka was sobbing, I sat in the kitchen until evening, and then came to her, sat next to the coffin and cried, not wiping my tears. By morning, I put my daughter to sleep a little. And in the morning, we buried her. I wanted to say—come on, get up, my love—but they closed the coffin lid and lowering it into the hole, covered it with earth. I don't remember well what happened next, the wake, many people, relatives, I just got drunk, to the point of insensibility.
The next morning, my wife's parents offered Zhenechka to live with them, but she flatly refused—"I won't leave dad alone," she answered them. Then, everyone left, cleaning up everything after the wake. And my daughter and I were left alone. I remember I drank a little more, but my daughter asked me not to drink anymore and I stopped. My daughter wasn't crying, she was cooking something, made me eat and we ate together.
"We have to go on living, already without her," Zhenechka said quietly. "You have to work, and I have to study."
And at night, I lay and tried to sleep, leaving the night lamp on the nightstand on. But sleep wouldn't come, I was tormented by thoughts that I should have gone to those negotiations, that I should have come when she called, that the negotiations were going badly.
Suddenly, Zhenechka came, completely naked, lay down next to me, hugged me and started kissing me on the lips. I was just stunned by such a turn of events. She started laughing, kissing me and saying things that only my wife could know. She told me how the negotiations went, that a contract would be signed soon and wanted to have sex with me. I was just in shock, I didn't know what to do, how to react. My daughter, beloved Zhenechka, was behaving like my wife and wanted to have sex with me. Not even wanted, but demanded sex. I slowly took my daughter by the shoulders and tried to shake her, maybe she was sleepwalking. My hands wouldn't obey me, as if filled with heaviness. Zhenechka laughed:
"You're acting strange, what's wrong with you, beloved?" she asked.
"This can't be," I muttered quietly, barely moving my tongue. "You died. We buried you yesterday. Zhenechka, wake up." I tried to shake my daughter again, but only slid my hands over her arms. She ran her finger over my lips, nose, chin, as my wife used to do, examining my face.
"I love you so much. I was hurrying to you, to our daughter, but then there was light and everything disappeared. And now, I'm with you again," she said and gently kissed me on the lips. Then she started kissing my chest, going lower and lower. She took my lying member with her hand and licking the head, took it in her mouth. She sucked, and my member, right in her mouth, hardened. Raising her head, she said, touching her jaw with her hand
"My jaw hurts today, like before, back then, the first times." Opening my mouth, I lay as if petrified.
"You're strange today, very strange," she said, rising and straddling me, started to impale herself on my member.
"No, Zhenya, no," I cried out, pulled her by the hands towards me, the petrification instantly gone. But she had already impaled herself on the member. My daughter cried out loudly and opening her mouth, and opening her eyes wide, looked at me. Then slowly lifted herself, pulling the member out of herself, swung her leg over me and looking at my member and then at me, quietly asked
"Dad, what is this? How is this?" perplexed and surprised. She ran her hand between her legs, looked at the blood on her fingers, looked at me again and closing her eyes, swallowed hard. Opened her eyes, looked at her bare chest, again at the blood on her fingers, then looking intently at me, she got off the couch and left. I looked at my member. There was blood on it, my daughter had been a virgin until that night, and I, her father, had taken that from her. I got up and went to the bathroom, but it was occupied, my daughter had locked herself in there. I went to the other bathroom, which just had a shower stall, washed up there and returned to the room. I lay and replayed everything that had happened in my head and only fell asleep near morning. In the morning, I jumped up, got dressed and quickly drove to my office.
Telling my secretary to cancel all meetings and not let anyone in to see me, I sat and thought about the mysticism that had happened at night. Then I poured myself some whiskey and drank half the glass in one gulp. The alcohol had a relaxing effect.
"How do I look my daughter in the eye now?" I thought, closing my eyes. "How do I tell her what happened? That she came and like my wife, started talking to me, kissing and wanted to have sex. Not even wanted, but had it, raising my member with her mouth and then impaling herself on it—"
My secretary's voice pulled me out of my thoughts—"Vladimir Alekseevich, your daughter is here."—and fell silent, waiting for an answer. I internally tensed.
"Let her come in," I answered, pressing the intercom button and went to the cabinet door with alcohol. I poured myself more whiskey, drank it, listening as the door opened and closed, and my daughter walked through the office. Pouring myself more, I turned and looked at my daughter. She stood by the desk and looked at me.
"Sit down," I said with a sigh, went to the desk and sat in my chair, placing the glass of whiskey next to me on the desk.
"What was that, dad?" Zhenechka asked quietly, looking at me.
"I don't understand myself what it was," I answered with a sigh.
"Tell me everything. Or were you unconscious?" my daughter smirked.
"Complete nonsense. I can't even tell you. Because it's complete nonsense—"
"Nonsense, that I ended up on top of you, and you were inside me?" she asked quietly. "I haven't been that close with my boyfriend as I was with you. Is that nonsense?"
I drank the whiskey and twirling the glass with my fingers, slowly, sometimes stumbling, told my daughter about what happened at night, glancing at her occasionally. She listened silently, with eyes wide open in surprise. Finishing the story with when Zhenechka cried out, I got up and went to pour more whiskey—"you know what happened next," I threw over my shoulder. Opened the door, started unscrewing the cap on the bottle.
"Please don't drink anymore," my daughter asked. "You know, even if you had ended up in my room, it would still be strange. After all, I was on top of you. And here in your room and... I don't remember anything at all, only suddenly it became very painful, there..." she sighed and fell silent.
"But why mom...? And if this happens again...?" Zhenechka quietly asked questions, not finishing them completely. I sighed, screwed the cap back on, putting the empty glass down, returned to the desk, sitting in the chair.
"Maybe we should live separately? Rent different apartments or you go live with grandma and grandpa?" I suggested. My daughter sat thoughtfully, biting her lips.
"If it really is as you say, then let's set up a camera in your room today. Let's go now and buy a camera with the largest memory, enough for a day. We'll come home and set it up. And then we'll see if something happens. What do you think about that?" my daughter asked quietly, and added softly, "I have nothing left to lose—"
"You know," I said quietly, carefully choosing my words, "at that moment, I was as if under hypnosis. As if observing from the side and only when it was already too late to do anything, I came to, and you also came to at that time."
"So let's see how and what happens, if it happens again," my daughter answered quietly. "Let's look online to see what cameras are available, so we don't set up surveillance. There are compact ones now that record to memory cards or flash drives."
"Dad, let's go eat, then you'll go to sleep again," she shook my shoulder gently. I rubbed my eyes with my hands, got up and went to the kitchen, following Zhenechka. Everything was already set there. While I washed my hands, she put stewed meat with vegetables on the plates. We started eating in silence.
"I won't undress today," I said quietly. My daughter, stopping eating, thought, shook her head:
"Do everything as usual," she answered quietly with a sigh. "What will be, will be."
"Zhenechka, why take the risk?" I asked. "What if everything repeats again?"
"Did mom never undress you?" she asked, smirking. "Don't worry, dad. Do everything as you always did."
"I don't want to anymore. Thank you for dinner. I'll go lie down," I said and left the kitchen, undressed to my underwear, turned the night lamp on again, and lay down. After lying for a bit, I fell asleep.
"I missed you," I heard Zhenechka's tender whisper in my ear. I opened my eyes. My daughter was lying and looking at me.
"I feel like I haven't seen you for an eternity. As if I was far from you and finally met you," she whispered, running her finger over my lips, nose and chin. I lay there, saw everything, heard everything and understood, but was as if in a stupor, couldn't move.
"Zhenya, wake up," I said quietly, pronouncing the words with great difficulty. She looked at me, putting a finger to my lips
"Shh. She's already asleep," my daughter whispered. "Do you want me to be our daughter today?" She smiled and removing her finger, started kissing me on the lips, then started going lower, pulled off my underwear and again, like yesterday, took my member in her mouth and raised it. Then rose, sitting on top
"My jaw is tired again today and yesterday it hurt when I impaled myself on my boy. Let's try the same way again today," she said and guided the head of my member into herself with her hand.
"Zhenya, don't," I whispered, barely getting the words out.
"Yes, daddy," she answered playfully and carefully impaled herself on the member, moaning, she impaled herself deeply twice. Then, sitting on me, covered her face with her hands
"It hurts so much," my daughter said quietly.
I slowly clenched my fists and at that moment felt the heaviness leaving. Raised my palms and looked at them.
"I'm on you again and you're inside me," my daughter said quietly, slowly and with quiet moans, not removing her hands from her face, not even trying to get up. I grabbed my daughter by the waist and pulled her up. The member came out of her, she stood over me on her knees, removed her hands from her face and looked at me, massaging her jaw with her fingers. Climbed over me and left. Quickly returned, already in a robe, turned on the light, went to the camera, took it and sitting on the couch, looked at me again
"Put on your underwear," she said quietly and started figuring out the camera. I pulled on my underwear. My daughter turned on the recording, holding the camera so I could see too. On the small screen, you could see the entrance to the room and me, sleeping on the couch. She fast-forwarded the recording a bit more, not turning off the image. Found where she enters the room. Rewound a little back and turned on normal speed. The clarity of the recording was excellent, as in reality.
Zhenechka entered the room naked, lay down next to me and first looked at me for a long time, then lowered her head a little and raising it again started looking at me.
"Did she whisper something to you?" my daughter asked quietly.
"Yes," I answered. "She whispered: I missed you."
We watched the recording to the end, up to the moment my daughter took the camera.