When she finished high school, she was still jacking her father off, always while she was in the shower. But by then, she had enjoyed the attentions of two steady boyfriends, boys who would thrill her and excite her in the back seat of a car, fucking her to orgasm after orgasm. But all the time they were between her long legs, pounding frantically into her eager teenaged cunt, to Wendy it was her father… her father's cock that created that terrific feeling, her father's cock that squirted and flooded her hungry cunt with hot juices, her father's balls that bounced off her twisting, churning little teenaged ass. It was always her father's hands that removed her panda, lifted her dress. It was always her father's mouth that sucked and licked and pulled at her tingling tits.

Then when she married, her fantasies turned toward her husband. She no longer fantasized about her father until her husband had introduced her to cock-sucking. The first time her husband pushed his cock into her mouth, Wendy had not protested; she accepted it just as eagerly as she had accepted jacking off with her father. However, it did make her start to fantasize about her father again, imagining it was his cock she was sucking, and that it was his come-juice that sprayed her throat. The fantasy of sucking on her father's cock worked just as well as it had when she imagined his cock fucking her cunt. She had come hard and long as her husband flooded her mouth, her throat working to swallow the hot, burning juices.

Realizing her husband preferred her wet mouth to her wet cunt, Wendy gladly sucked him off every time he wanted it. But it wasn't his cock she sucked; it was her father's cock. She never told her husband about her fantasies, and when he drove over the cliff that rainy night, he had died, never knowing what was in her mind all those years.