Treasure Hunt

On October 26, 2013, in Dirty Little Secrets, Erotica Stories, Readers Own Stories, by Diana Kemp

The summer house was always my favorite place. Filled with happy childhood memories of barbecues, boating, and balmy summer nights stargazing, I felt a strong sense of nostalgia as I stood on the deck in the early autumn sun. The lake glistened beneath a crystal blue sky, a mild breeze gently pushing rusty swings.

“Donna? Where are you, babe?”

I turned at the sound of Scott’s voice. Even after ten years of marriage, the sight of my husband still put an instant smile on my face. Dark, yet pale-skinned with melted chocolate puppy eyes, he was my modern day Lord Byron.

Walking toward me with a huge grin and hands crossed behind his back, I wondered what he’d been up to.

“What’s going on, Mr. Walton?” I asked, mock charging him.

He immediately raised his hands and shook a video cassette at me. “Found this, Mrs. Walton.”

“What the hell?” I said, seeing my father’s familiar writing scrawled on the spine label. “I thought you were supposed to be checking the furnace?”

Scott laughed. “The furnace can wait. I found something far more interesting.”

I jumped him and snatched the cassette from his hand. There was no description other than an obscure date harkening back to my childhood. My eyes traveled to Scott, then back to the cassette.

“Want to take a quick break?” he asked.

I was already suspicious when I saw the old Sony VCR set up in the living room. “Scott, this had better not be one of those stupid videos my dad used to take of us every summer,” I complained. “I looked so gross back then.”

Scott smirked and started the recording. I was surprised the relic still worked.

Reluctantly, I sat on the couch beside him. Suddenly, a grainy image of the same couch appeared on the big-screen television. I heard my mother giggling in the background a moment before sleazy music began playing.

This wasn’t any video I remembered, and when my mother strutted in front of the camera wearing only a black lace bra, garter belt, seamed stockings and some very high hooker heels, I could only stare in shock.

“Mom?”
Then my father appeared, naked and more than a little hard, and tackled my mother onto the couch. Tussling like a pair of horny teenagers, she clamped my father between her thighs and buried his face between her breasts. I gasped as my father ate his way down to my mother’s unshaven pussy.

“Dad?!”

I turned away as he rose and aimed his cock toward my mother’s spread thighs.

Scott reached over and pulled me into an embrace. The moans and cries echoing from the speakers had gotten him hot and hard and before long, we were naked on the couch. Clamping him with my thighs, I gripped his head as he ate his way down from my breasts to my smoothly shaved pussy. Just before he rose to impale me with his cock, he paused and smiled.

“Too bad we don’t have a camera set up, but maybe next time …”

treasure-hunt

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