“Did you eat, daddy?”“No.”“Good - I made you dinner.”“Good boy. Just what I expect.”“Can I be your wife, dad?”“You are my wife, ...**. That’s how I see you.”He just smiled, blissful.“Go get the table ready. Stay naked. Apron on, like I told you to, in case I want to fuck you after dinner.”“Yes, daddy,” he said, beaming.Honestly, the words shocked me when they dropped out of my mouth: “You are my wife … “ I wasn’t expecting to say them. I wasn’t expecting to believe them once I said them. But now. But don't be a pest, okay?"She looked at me. "I won't. You know she's over here a lot too." I know." Shara was neat to have around. Her single mom used us to free herself up for the occasional date. Of course, Shara spending the night meant that more than once I or Alan had to attempt to stifle the giggles of two seven year olds past their bedtime. "Uh, tell her mom that if she's not going out tonight, she's welcome to eat dinner with us." I can do that," Terri said. She pulled an iPhone out of. More

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