In his new apartment on the other side of town, Cynthia's ex-husband Ted was having a problem similar to his former wife's. He was dying to fuck Felicia, their daughter.

She was a slim, exceptionally pretty girl, with mouthwatering legs and ass, and a full pair of tits that promised to grow nearly as large as her mother's when she was older. The opposite sex already appreciated Felicia, which made Ted feel proud as a father. She had naturally wavy brown hair that she wore in a long ponytail, and her face was truly beautiful, with her ripe pouting lips and wide blue eyes.

Ted had wanted to fuck his daughter, but now that they lived alone in the apartment his desires were growing out of control. It seemed that she was always running around half-naked, dressed in a sheer, ass length negligee at breakfast, or running around the apartment with just a towel draped around her tits after taking a shower.

It was now nearly three o'clock in the afternoon, and Ted, had taken a break from work to pick up some clothes. He thought of his daughter as his sedan rolled down the treelined suburban boulevard, rubbing his painfully swollen cock through his dress slacks.

She was such a gorgeous piece of ass. Just this morning he'd passed Felicia's room on his way to the bathroom, and her door had been wide open. There his daughter had been, fast asleep on her back, with her legs bunched up and her nightie crumpled around her waist. For a fleeting second he'd seen her gorgeous ass cheeks, and the pouting lips of her brown haired pussy between her legs.

"I can't take it," Ted muttered as he drove. "I just don't know how much more of this I can stand."

He pulled into the gravel drive of a tiny cottage sandwiched between a restaurant and an auto parts store in a commercial district. Inside lived Mrs. Benson, a fat, frumpy woman in her middle forties who worked as a seamstress to supplement her Social Security income.