It’s been two days since Mia “left” the house. On that first day, Jennifer had woken up and discovered that Mia’s clothes and backpack were missing. Then when she found the key and the phone on the coffee table, she assumed that Mia had left.
Sure, I felt a little guilty when I woke up and found my wife sobbing on the couch. However, I reasoned that she was suffering less pain than if she found out that her daughter was dead. She also was suffering less pain now than if she found out that Mia had fucked me in order to get back at her.
I was saving her pain and suffering. If anything, I’m the fucking husband of the year. Okay, I know that I’m a bastard. But let’s think about this logically. No one is going to give a rat’s ass that Mia is missing. Her mother didn’t even care enough about her to tell me that she had a daughter. I had to find out when we got back from our honeymoon for Christ’s sake. Her father didn’t care about her either. I know that because when I went through her text messages on her phone there were twenty or so unanswered texts from Mia. She had kept asking him if she could stay with her. None of them were answered. I figured if the cops did think her disappearance was foul play, maybe they would assume she committed suicide.
If both my parents didn’t care about me, I might think about ending my life too.
The second day of Mia’s “departure” I found my wife standing at the kitchen sink. Her hands were just hovering above the sink. The faucet was running. It looked like she was frozen in thought. When I walked up behind her and wrapped my arms around her, she jumped in fright. She laughed when I kissed her neck.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s Mia, isn’t it? Do you miss her?”
I thought she was going to shake her head again, but then at the last moment she nodded. “You know, the funny thing about it is, I always knew that she was going to be a fuck up. Maybe that’s why I never told you about her. I just assumed that she would never come to see me. So, when she did, if felt that she was finally choosing to be with me,” she paused for a few seconds, and I waited patiently for a tear to run down her cheek. “But I guess all that she needed from me was a few nights on the couch.”
I tightened my hold around her waist. “Do you think she went to live with her father?”
She shrugged. “Probably not. Most likely she’s run off with some boy. She’s always had a problem keeping her legs closed.”
“I think that’s something you two have in common,” I teased as one of my hands slipped down the front of her dress.
“Oh, stop it,” she said, but giggled. “I have to get the dishes down before bed.”
I looked out the kitchen window. It wasn’t even dark outside. My hand continued to travel down her leg to the hem of the dress. Pulling it up, my hand began travelling up, pulling the dress up. Her head bent when I kissed her neck. She groaned as my other hand grabbed her breast.
“You know,” I pressed myself against her plump ass. My cock was hard inside my pants. “Since Mia’s not here, we don’t have to fuck in the bedroom anymore.”
We hadn’t fucked since Mia’s “disappearance.” I had wanted to, but I thought it would be suspicious to just fuck my wife while she was worried about her missing daughter. I figured two days was enough time.
My hand found her tit as the other hand found her panties. My tongue worked up from her neck to her earlobe. Her mouth turned up to meet mine as two fingers entered her pussy. I loved it when she gasped when I inserted that third finger.
The palm of my hand worked the soft flesh above her pussy as my fingers rhythmically moved in and out.
Her hips moved in time with my fingers, her ass grinding against my cock.
Yanking my pants down with my free hand, I removed my hand from her pussy and spread her legs. She broke from our kiss; her breath was ragged. “We should move it to the bedroom.”
“No fucking time,” I said as I bent her over the sink.
Yanking her dress up, I penetrated her pussy from behind. We both moaned as I began fucking her. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink as I pounded into her. Her head was bent down into the sink, her face mere inches from the soapy water. If I wanted to, I could probably drown her as easily as I killed her daughter. It would almost be poetic.
But no, I loved my wife.
Looking up, something caught my eye. The kitchen window looked out upon the backyard. It wasn’t a big backyard, but there was enough room that if we had a kid of our own, he could have a playset. There were woods that lined the back border.
I swear I could see a figure standing in the tree line watching us fuck.
My heart stopped as I came inside my wife’s juicy pussy.
The figure looked exactly like Mia.
