I looked forward to next Friday…maybe it would be my turn to fuck Dad…Would I have a “little death” again? I could dream, couldn’t I?…so...far my dreams were working. I dozed off with dreams of Le Petite Mort. I wanted to “die” again…this time with Dad.AFTERWORD: Later, with trepidation, Dad entered the master bedroom, pausing, and listening. Was Mom sound asleep so there would be no nervous pillow talk? He relaxed as Mom was apparently asleep, her breathing slow and steady. Dad tiptoed. ” Reluctantly she gave a sip. I grabbed her head and poured the entire glass. She drank it. I poured another and made it really stiff. I took a sip and gave it to her and said, “drink it as if it is nectar. ” she said “I will be drunk.” I said, “It is ok., I want an extremely drunk wife.” She drank it like water and made a face worth seeing. Soon she became half drunk. Now Arnab suddenly took out my cock and said, “Sima, see, your husband has a good cock for you.” All the three of us giggled. I. More

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