My Chair; My Goddess, My Conflict – [Str8] [Mf]

"How the Fuck did I end up here?" is the first thought passing through my mind as I walked through the door and saw her there in my wingback leather chair with nothing on but her pink cotton undergarments and a pouty fuck me face. Those big eyes, and that short brown boy cut had been the source of fantasy for many a faps. I had wanted her since I saw her, this girl is a goddess in both mind and body, and yet what the fuck was I going to do now that we were here.

~~~~~~~

Three months ago my wife and I filed an order of seperation. We agreed that for now this marriage was over and we were both would see and fuck whoever the hell we pleased. Despite the agreement, the last thing she said to me as were walking out of the attorney's office was, "Don't fuck Chey, that'll mess your daughter up."

Chey was 22 and I was 37, the chances of that coupling occuring were nonexistent as far as I was concerned. Don't get me wrong, no man with two working eyes doesn't want to fuck Chey, but there wasn't much she'd need from me that her college peers already throwing themselves at her weren't able to provide.

"Damn, who do you think I am?" I replied. "I am well aware." Chey's little sister was Alana, the 15 year old best friend of my 13 year old daughter. They had been best friends for three years and were an inseperable lot. Despite her brilliance and beauty, I certainly understood the confusion Chey and I could ravage in my daughter's life.

I laughed, "If the smartest, most attractive young adult I know suddenly throws herself at me." I hestitated letting the absurdity set in, "Even still, I love my daughter enough to not fuck her best friend's older sister."

~~~~~~~

I could actually smell the sex in the air. That aroma of sweat, phermones, anticipation and desire that fills a space just before two people fuck for the first time. I stepped backward out of the room, closed my eyes, and just breathed. One, two, three long deep breaths; each held a moment and then released. I stepped back into the room, opened my eyes and checked to ensure this was real, and the unforeseeable moment was in my grasp.

~~~~~~~

Chey became the obvious choice to hire as sitter on my days with the kids. She was nearby and our arrangement was beneficial to everyone. My kids arrived home from school a little after 3:00, at that time they worked on their homework and waited for Chey, and her sistser Alana to arrive at just after four. They were all old enough to be there for a couple hours with my thriteen year old, but since it was more than just two hours before I got home from work Chey was the pinch hitter to keep the evening progressing.

Around 4:00 each day she would arrive, letting herself in with the garage keycode. Her tasks were to check everyone's homework and put the meal I had prepared the night before into the oven. After that she was pretty much free to study and surf the web while being paid the remaining two hours till I arrived home. It was wonderful for everyone. My oldest was able to hang put with her best friend the three evenings a week the kids were at my house. The two younger kids had a responsible adult keeping an eye on them, and that adult was being paid to sit and study.

~~~~~~~

I stared at my leather chair; where previously it's best action had been been reading Michio Kaku's Einstein's Cosmos or the latest Serenity graphic novel, and she was there, nearly naked and now looking both dazed and slighty hurt from the rejection. Except this was not rejection, this was a mere mortal in the prescence of a goddess, this was a imagined dream breathed into existence, the most soul hurting conflict in the history of desire and wisdom.

This moment was a choice, and the choice I wanted to make, and the choice I needed to make were at opposite ends of a infinite plane.

~~~~~~~

I had known that Chey liked me, but I had assumed that it was just in the "he's a cool old dude" way, rather than ever imagining I was seen as a DILF. She had let herself in before, knowing when my kids would be at their mother's. On all previous occasions it had just been to chat, we both shared very similiar interests. I work as SimPy modeler for an international NGO. My bachelors degree is in philosphy and my masters in economic development; she is a women's studies major with a minor in biomedical physics, who would love to work for an NGO like my employer after she finishes law school. We are both social liberals with a strong sense of the role science plays in shaping an economically just future.

So on her usual unannouced visits; she let's herself in and hollars to see if I am up in my study. We usually split a bottle of wine and discuss international polity until this old man tells her I am off to bed, with the alarm for work ringing at 6:30.

The red wine, wonderful conversation, and great orgasm from masturbating after she leaves always results in her visits giving me the best nights of sleep. A man can dream.

~~~~~~~

The moment, the chair, and the beauty before me; desire in all it's fucking power won out. Stepping forward the six steps to the corner of the room where my wingback chair held my sexual goddess I dropped to my knees and placed my face even with the wet pussy behind those pink panties.

This was my goddess, and the pink cunt behind those pink panties almost audibly sighed as I leaned in to begin my worship.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2na3hh/my_chair_my_goddess_my_conflict_str8_mf