She'd thought of them together, her breath coming very fast, as she prepared her own breakfast, then lovingly set a place for her dad, then set out the various breakfast items so that Mom would be ready to prepare it the moment she appeared in the kitchen that morning, dressed and perfumed from her hot sexual scene with Daddy.

The young blonde had tried reading the morning paper for a little while, but not to very good effect. The trouble was she couldn't concentrate, because she kept seeing them, locked in a flaming sexual embrace, Daddy with his enormous red penis sliding in and out of her mother's burning cunt, gleaming with the moisture of her inner softness. And then, of course, her jealousy increased and she thought of it again – it was a vicious circle. It made her jealous, and when she became jealous she thought of it, which made her still more jealous.

That awful scene of her mother and father rutting like two animals in the wilds of their large round bed.

These were the thoughts which had dominated the impressionable adolescent's entire day. She'd been nervous and apprehensive of showing anything when her parents finally came down to breakfast, and then after that she thought about them all day long and of what it must be like to be – she didn't want to use that naughty word cousin Ronald had taught her, but she couldn't help it – to be fucked by her handsome and masculine daddy.

Not that she had shown anything, of course. "Morning, kitten," her dad had said when he came into the breakfast room, kissing her lightly on the cheek. She had been afraid to answer because her throat felt all choked up, but she had smiled as best she could And then he had ruffled the morning paper she had set out by his place, harumphed and began reading.

But what could she do? Now? What could she do now?