‘Something’s up with Brin,’ Tom thought as he settled in behind his desk.

It wasn’t just the strange way she’d practically run out of the room this morning. There was something indelibly different about her lately, something he couldn’t quite articulate. He’d noticed her looking at him sometimes while her thoughts were somewhere else. They still had the easy banter they’d enjoyed practically since Brin could talk - she might have inherited her mother’s looks, but she’d gotten Tom’s sardonic sense of humor - but every now and then she seemed to drift off in the middle of their verbal dueling.

Then again, Tom knew Brin wasn’t the only one who’d acted strangely this morning. Before she’d jolted him out of his catnap, Tom had been in the middle of a disturbing dream.

In the dream, Tom was reclining on the sofa with Lexi standing between his knees, her back to him. His wife had on a very short black skirt that hugged her ass beautifully and a silky blouse that clung to her curves. She was performing a slow striptease for him. Actually, this was more than a simple striptease - it was a full-on lap dance.

Lexi was seductively swaying her hips back and forth, up and down, closer and closer to his face and crotch. He wanted to touch her, but for some reason he couldn’t move his hands. He started to ask Lexi to turn around, only to realize his voice seemed to be gone as well. But none of this seemed to be important in the dream as Lexi suddenly rubbed her scrumptious ass against his growing cock. She dry-humped him a few times before sliding away again, keeping her back to him the whole time.

By her movements, Tom could tell she was unbuttoning her blouse. He saw the tails come open and fall away as she undid the last button. He knew she was unclasping her bra, and he saw her maneuver to free herself from the straps without letting the blouse slip completely off. She tossed the bra carelessly away and continued her erotic writhing.

Tom was almost desperate now to see her naked breasts, to have them swaying in front of his face, to have her offer him a nipple to suckle. But he still couldn’t find his voice, and Lexi continued to keep her back to him. Even when she finally slid the blouse off and let it fall to the floor, she still refused to turn around.

Lexi moved in between Tom’s knees again, so close that he could feel the heat coming off of her. His cock was engorged, tenting the running shorts he was wearing obscenely. She continued to move until she was pressed against him, his face on her bare back. Tom inhaled her scent and began to kiss along the small of her back, just above the waistband of her skirt. Lexi bent over, pushing her butt up into his face, and put her hands on her knees as she gyrated.

She was murmuring to herself, making little cooing sounds. Tom was desperate to touch her now. He wanted to rip her skirt off and bury his nose between those two globes.

He wanted to grab her hips and pull her back against his face as he bit and nibbled at her cheeks. He wanted to slide a hand under her, running it over her pussy, feeling her lips open to him as her wetness covered his hand.

But he still couldn’t move his hands or order - beg - Lexi to take off the skirt, or turn and face him, or speak to him in her low sultry voice.

Lexi bent over even further, the short skirt riding even higher up the backs of her thighs. She reached through her legs and touched Tom’s cock through his shorts. He heard an, “Ohhh, mmmm, yesss,” escape her lips - barely above a whisper - as she grasped him in her hand and began stroking him through his shorts.

Tom threw his head back in a shudder as his wife’s hand slipped into his shorts to touch his bare cock. She tugged and pulled and stroked, and Tom finally heard his own voice return as he hissed, “Yes, baby, stroke me, fuck. Let me see you, Lexi.”

When Tom said her name, the dancing figure hesitated ever so briefly. Then he heard a giggle before she said in a husky whisper, “You like that? You like my hands on your big, hard dick? It’s so fucking big and hard. Did I make it hard like that? Are you hard for me?”

“Fuuucckk, yes,” Tom groaned, and suddenly his hands were free. He took Lexi’s hips forcefully, yanking her back before running one hand roughly up her skirt to her mound. She was wet, so wet, and he felt nothing but the tiny string of a thong. Without hesitation, Tom jammed a finger inside her, and this time, Lexi moaned loudly, tossing her own head back.

Tom started shoving her skirt up with his free hand, feeling her bare ass where it was split by the thong. But when he flipped the skirt up, he froze. Because the panties he saw there had never been on his wife.

But they had been in his hand in the laundry room.

As the realization that these were Brin’s panties hit him, Tom looked up, and the figure in front of him finally turned.

“Is something wrong, Daddy?”

At that very moment, Tom had jerked awake, back into the real world. He thought he felt Brin’s foot brushing against his cock as they both scrambled to their feet.

He’d reached out to her, realizing her leg was in pain, but she almost flinched at his touch. She’d scrambled away to her room, and Tom had headed for his shower, watching her hips sway, so like her mother’s, as she moved down the hall.

All through his shower and the drive to work, Tom had replayed the dream over and over in his mind. Had it really been Brin he’d seen, her voice he’d heard? And why? Why?

As much as he tried to shove the thought away, the vision of his daughter dancing in front of him, teasing him and stroking his cock kept swimming back into his brain.

And over and over, he heard Brin’s question.

“Is something wrong, Daddy?”