I Installed Cameras to Watch My Daughter’s Boyfriend

My name is Ricardo, and I never thought I would end up spying inside my own house. I’ve been married to Marcela for more than twenty years, a woman with wide hips and a narrow waist who still undoes me just by walking into a room. We have two daughters: Daniela, the older one, who looks exactly like her mother, and Brenda, the younger one, still at university. Things had gone well for me at work, enough to give them a comfortable life, a big house with a pool and a gym where the girls worked out. I thought I already knew every secret in that house. I was wrong.

Daniela had spent several months on a humanitarian mission very far away, and one afternoon she called to say she was coming back. She wasn’t coming alone. She was bringing a boyfriend. Marcela and I went to the airport with our hearts tight with longing to hug her, and when we finally saw her walk through the arrivals gate, the three of us cried for a while without caring about the people around us.

—Mom, Dad, this is Bakari —she said, wiping her cheeks.

I looked up and was speechless. Bakari was huge. Nearly two meters tall, shoulders like beams, a calm in his eyes that commanded respect without saying a word.

—Nice to meet you —he said, and his deep voice made something vibrate in my chest.

—Welcome to the family —Marcela replied, offering him her hand.

We took him home, I showed him the pool, the jacuzzi, the gym. He loved the last one; he told me he trained every day. That night we had dinner together, talked until late, and even though I liked him, I couldn’t stop looking at him. Next to him, my daughter looked tiny.

I stayed up working until dawn to catch up. When I went upstairs to go to bed, I passed Daniela’s room and heard something that nailed me to the floor. The door was ajar. I shouldn’t have looked in, but I did.

Daniela was on all fours on the mattress, naked, ass raised and tits hanging heavy, swaying to the rhythm of the thrusts. Bakari was behind her, kneeling, and the first thing that hit me was the cock buried to the hilt in my daughter’s cunt: thick, dark, shining with fluids, going in and out with a measured slowness that made Daniela’s thighs creak every time he speared her. He had her hips in both hands and pulled her back onto his shaft, burying it all the way in until she let out a muffled moan into the pillow.

—Open wider, slut —he ordered in a low voice—. Open that cunt up for your man.

—Yes... yes, baby —she panted, arching her back, offering him her ass—. Break me, fuck me, do whatever you want to me.

He grabbed her hair, tugged gently until he made her lift her face, and put two fingers in her mouth. Daniela sucked them like they were another cock, eyes closed, while he kept fucking her cunt with that slow, brutal force. Then he slid one hand down to her ass, spread her cheeks with his thumb and pressed the tip against her asshole, not pushing it all the way in, just marking that hole as his too. My daughter trembled all over and came: I saw her cum all over his cock, in spasms that shook her whole back, while she babbled obscenities I would never have imagined coming out of her mouth. What left me breathless wasn’t his size, but the way he dominated her: he whispered in her ear, decided every movement. My daughter obeyed and moaned as if that surrender were the only thing that mattered in the world. I went to my bed ashamed, my own cock hard and throbbing inside my pants, turned on and unable to sleep.

***

Several days passed. One morning, before leaving for work, I went downstairs for some papers and heard voices in the kitchen. Brenda had already left for class, Daniela was still asleep. Marcela and Bakari were alone.

—I see where Daniela got all her beauty from —he said—. From you.

—Oh, Bakari, the things you say —she laughed.

—I’m serious. You’re a beautiful woman. My father-in-law is very lucky.

—You’re just saying that. I’m already old.

—Not at all.

I walked in before hearing any more, and Marcela pulled away suddenly, like a girl caught doing something wrong. I didn’t say anything. I grabbed my papers and left. I trust my wife, I kept telling myself in the car. But I don’t know him.

That same afternoon I bought several small cameras, the kind that can fit into any corner. One day when the house was empty, I installed them everywhere, except in the bathrooms and Brenda’s room. In Daniela’s room I did put one; I’d be lying if I said it was only for surveillance. I wanted to keep watching them tear my daughter’s cunt apart.

***

I came home very late the next night. Everyone was asleep. I locked myself in my office, turned the key, and opened the recordings from the time I’d left.

Marcela came downstairs in a silk robe to make breakfast. Brenda ate quickly and left. A little later Bakari appeared, wearing shorts and nothing else. My wife became visibly nervous.

—Has my father-in-law left already? —he asked.

—Yes, he had to leave early today.

—Then you must feel a little lonely. Such a beautiful woman.

—I’m used to it —she answered, turning her back to him.

He looked her up and down without hiding it, pausing on the ass barely contained by the robe, on the tits outlined beneath the silk. Marcela noticed it in the reflection from the window, bit her lip, and kept cooking as if nothing. Nothing else happened that morning, but I understood that something had been set in motion, and that instead of stopping it, I was recording it.

***

The following days fell into a strange routine. Every morning, after I left, Bakari would go down to the kitchen and find a way to get close to Marcela. A greeting, a hug from behind, his bulge pressed against her ass a second too long. My wife pretended to be surprised, but she never fully pulled away.

—Good morning, mother-in-law —he said one morning, hugging her from behind.

—Oh, good morning —she stammered.

—How did you wake up? Besides beautiful.

—Jesus, Bakari, you scared me. Fine, and you?

—Happy. I like giving hugs, I hope you don’t mind.

—No... I was just surprised.

—Well, get used to it. I’m going to hug you a lot.

And he hugged her again, this time rubbing his cock through his shorts against the crease of her ass. I saw Marcela bite her lip, close her eyes for a second, and not move away. I watched the scene locked in my office, pulse racing, with a mix of jealousy and dirty fascination I didn’t know how to name. Every night I repeated the ritual: locked the door, played the recordings, and watched that man weave his trap with a hunter’s patience.

***

One afternoon I recorded something that changed everything. Bakari had Daniela on her back on the bed, her legs spread wide open and her ankles resting on his shoulders. He was driving his cock all the way in, pulling it all the way out and shoving it back in again, every thrust marked by the hard slap of his balls against my daughter’s ass. Her tits bounced with every stroke, one hand at her clit rubbing shamelessly, and her mouth hung open, moaning increasingly filthy things.

—Tell me you’re mine, slut —he growled, never stopping fucking her—. Tell me who this pussy belongs to.

—Yours, it’s yours, all yours —she moaned—. My pussy, my ass, my mouth, all yours, my love.

—Your hips are just like your mother’s —he told her, still moving, while he grabbed one tit and squeezed it hard.

—I inherited them from her —Daniela panted.

—And did you get the rest from her too? That tight pussy? Those hard nipples?

—I... I don’t know.

—I’m going to have to find out. I’m going to have to taste your mother’s cunt.

Daniela went still for a moment, with Bakari’s cock buried to the hilt inside her, as if she had understood.

—With... with my mother? —she asked.

He pulled out suddenly, turned her face down, and set her back on all fours. He held her wrists behind her back, shoved it in again with a thrust that made her howl, and spoke softly in her ear without stopping his pounding. My daughter took a while to answer, but she answered, her cheek pressed into the sheets and her ass raised high to receive the full length of his cock.

—All right —she whispered—. Do it. If that’s what you want. Fuck my mother. Fuck her in front of me if you want.

Bakari came inside her with a long roar and filled her cunt with cum, while Daniela repeated “yes, yes, yes” like a litany. I turned off the screen for a moment, my hands shaking and my cock rock hard inside my pants. This isn’t flirting anymore, I thought. This is something else, and I’m allowing it from my chair. I turned it back on. I couldn’t stop watching.

***

The decisive morning I recognized the moment I saw it on the recording. Marcela appeared in the kitchen wearing her shortest silk robe, with nothing underneath, her nipples showing through the fabric. Bakari came down afterward, and before entering he stopped in the hallway, out of sight, preparing himself with cold determination. When he walked in, my wife was already waiting for him with a smile I hadn’t seen from her in years.

This time he didn’t hug her. He took her by the hips with both hands and pressed her against the countertop, rubbing his bulge shamelessly against her ass.

—Good morning, Marcela.

—Oh, God, you scared me —she said, not moving a millimeter to get away.

—Still not used to it?

—I wasn’t talking about that... but about this I feel here —she murmured, moving her hips back just slightly, pressing her ass against his hard cock.

—Daniela couldn’t take it last night —he replied—. I emptied my balls into her cunt twice and she fell asleep. And I woke up like this, with a cock that won’t go down.

—Do you make her... that tired? —Marcela asked, her voice breaking.

—Any time I want. And you? How many times a week do you get it?

—Two —she confessed in a thin voice—. If I’m lucky.

—That’s a crime —Bakari said, lifting her robe up her back with two fingers until her ass was bare in the air—. A woman like that should be taken care of every day. With this ass, this cunt, she ought to have someone fucking her in the morning, at noon, and at night.

He slid his hand between her cheeks and brushed her cunt with two fingers. Marcela closed her eyes and let out a low moan. She didn’t move away. She didn’t say no. Instead, she leaned forward a little, offering herself, and let my name escape once, like a farewell.

—Too bad my daughter is already your wife —she whispered.

—In my country —he answered, pressing her against the counter, already pushing one finger into her wet cunt—, a man can have more than one. He only has to ask me.

There was a long silence. I, in front of the screen, held my breath as if I were in the kitchen with them. And then Marcela said it. She asked with the exact words he wanted.

—Fuck me —she whispered, resting her cheek on the marble—. Please, fuck me. Put it in me. Put it all the way in. Be my man too.

Bakari yanked down his shorts and his cock sprang free, black, thick, with a shining glans. He ran the tip along the slit of her cunt, rubbed it from top to bottom until it was slick with her wetness, and with one thrust shoved it in all the way. Marcela opened her mouth in a silent scream, gripping the edge of the counter with white knuckles.

—Oh, my God... oh, my love, you’re so big... —she panted—. You fill me up completely, you split me open, I can’t take it...

—You can take it, slut, you can take whatever I give you —he answered, grabbing her hair with one hand and her hips with the other—. This cunt is mine from today on.

He fucked her against the counter with hard, dry blows that made the glasses in the draining rack tremble. He pinned her arms behind her back, just like he did with Daniela, and kept fucking her with a slow fury. He slid one hand forward, yanked open her robe, and fondled her big tits, squeezing them, twisting the nipples until he tore a new moan from her. Marcela was no longer pretending anything: she leaned back seeking his cock, moaning at every thrust, spitting out obscenities I had never heard from her before.

—Break my cunt, my love, break it, give me more, harder —she begged—. Fill me up inside, I want to feel your balls, I want your cum inside me.

He lifted her by the hips, sat her on the marble, and spread her legs wide open. He shoved his cock into her again from the front, now looking her in the eyes, and she wrapped her legs around his waist while she took him to the hilt. Bakari grabbed one tit with his mouth, sucked, bit, left her nipples red, and with his other hand moved down to rub her clit with his thumb. Marcela came like that, impaled, screaming, with her legs squeezing the boy’s hips and her face buried in his neck.

He set her down, turned her back against the counter, and kept fucking her from behind until he himself could no longer hold out. He pulled out suddenly, turned her onto her knees on the floor, and aimed at her face.

—Open your mouth, mother-in-law. Stick out your tongue.

My wife, my Marcela, the mother of my daughters, opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue like an obedient slut, eyes closed. Bakari came in spurts: he filled her mouth, her tongue, her tits, her neck. She swallowed what she could and smeared the cum over her skin with her fingers, not stopping her moans.

At some point Daniela appeared in the frame and sat in front of her mother, looking at her with shining eyes. Far from stopping anything, she rubbed her pussy over her pants, and the two of them seemed to understand each other in a language I didn’t share.

—I see you got the rest from her too —Bakari said, his cock still hard above Marcela’s face.

—Forgive me, daughter —Marcela managed to say, her mouth full of semen.

—It’s okay, Mom —Daniela replied, with chilling calm—. Now we both know what it is. Now we’re both his.

***

That afternoon Brenda came home from university. The three of them had lunch as if nothing had happened, and I still couldn’t look them in the face at dinner. Later, while I was reviewing the cameras, the microphones picked up what happened after that.

Bakari went up to Marcela’s room and the moans filled the hallway again, this time longer, more obscene, with the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of my wife’s cunt and with Marcela screaming for him to put it in her ass too. Brenda, in the living room, listened with her eyes wide open.

—I don’t understand how Daniela can stand it —she said quietly, to herself.

Just then Daniela came down to the kitchen for water, calm, disheveled but smiling. Brenda froze.

—If Daniela is here —she murmured—, then who is he with... No. It can’t be. With Mom?

Curiosity won out over horror. She went upstairs in silence, cracked open Marcela’s bedroom door just enough, and saw what I had already seen on screen: Bakari with his cock buried to the hilt in her mother’s ass, dominating her completely, with Marcela face down, biting the pillow and asking for more. She closed the door carefully and locked herself in her own room. I don’t have that part recorded; there’s no camera there.

I turned off the screen and sat there in the dark, in my locked office, listening to the heartbeat of my own house. I know I’ll have to decide what I’m going to do with all this. I know I should rip out the cameras and talk to my wife face to face. But while I think about that, a more cowardly idea keeps pushing forward: tomorrow I’m going to install a camera in Brenda’s room too.