A feminine voice chuckled, soft and low. “The plaid skirt kind?”

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“With a little white button blouse, tied at the waist?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And knee socks?”

John groaned. “Yeah, baby. Definitely knee socks.”

“Have I been a bad girl, Daddy?”

“You’ve been a very naughty little girl, Maria,” he agreed. “You are going to get a spanking.”

My heart was racing still, but for different reasons now. John had incest fantasies? Spanking fantasies? My mouth felt dry, but my pussy was wet-and getting wetter. I rolled over on my back, sliding my hand between my legs as I listened to them.

I was still all slick from John’s cum, and I spread the wetness over my lips, rubbing my clit with two fingers in slow little circles.

“Come here and bend over, young lady!” John’s voice was clear and demanding.

I pulled the phone away from a moment to look at it, as if I could see him. This is John?!

“Yes, Daddy,” Maria purred. “Do you want me over your knee?”

“Yes,” John growled. “Right here over my knee, you bad girl.

“Oh, Daddy, what are you doing? Lifting my skirt?”

“That’s right, and your panties are coming down, too.” My breath came faster as I listened to them both. I could close my eyes and see it. A part of me protested that this was my husband, that I shouldn’t be listening, I should be hunting him down with a frying pan and screaming at him-but another part of me was desperate to hear. This wasn’t the John I knew. This was some other man-and the more I listened, I realized it was a man that I wanted to know.

“Oh, Daddy, that stings!” Maria cried out as if she had been slapped.

“Do it, Maria,” John said. “Slap your ass.” I heard the sound of flesh against flesh, and I realized that Maria must be slapping herself for him. The thought stunned me.