Since it's all keyed around my Father, though, he says he can't think of a way to accomplish it." Accomplish what, exactly?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know."Since - since I never got to show Daddy how far I'd come with the big dildo," Jen spoke softly, looking at everything but me, "I've been kind of stuck at that place in my life. I can't seem to stop practicing - putting bigger and bigger things inside me. My conscious mind knows it's futile, that I'll never get to show Dad, but somewhere deep inside, I'm still getting ready for when he gets home!"Jen's voice rose to a frustrated wail as she ended her sentence. I held her until she calmed a little before I spoke again."Why did you think it was important to tell me this?" Another question whose answer I wasn't sure I wanted to hear.Jen looked around for some way to escape the question, and finding none, stared at her hands in her lap."It's, um, well, you see," she began, then, taking a deep breath to steel herself, she blurted out,. I watched her eyebrows scrunch together as she gagged.I glanced at the twin screen monitors. There were two cameras: a fixed one on a tripod that recorded a mid-shot including her face and torso with my dick and stomach; plus a roving one that was hand held by her husband. On the monitors I could check each feed and later I’d cut and edit them to my satisfaction.Her lips made a glugging sound, one of those accidental ‘mmhhs’ as she suckled too hard. I laced my fingers in her peroxide blonde locks, yo-yoing her head to my satisfaction. I twisted her face so she was full on to the fixed camera, removing any last chance of anonymity.Her husband had zoomed in so her mouth filled the monitor, with my voracious weapon pumping in and out, in-out, like a greasy piston. His own expression was hard to read. How did he feel spending Christmas Day watching his wife blowing another man ? Above the camera, his forehead glistened with sweat and his hand shook occasionally, making the filming more.
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