We sat around the conference room table on a Sunday morning. It was unusual to find us all here. A modest media company, started by my grandfather, grown by my father, and now threatened by a larger media company attempting a hostile takeover. My name is Jackson Duncan, Jack for short, I'm the President of Duncan Media Properties. My father John Jackson Duncan, John for short, is the Chairman and CEO. My wife Debbie is the Editor in Chief. My father's brother Jamison Duncan is Chief Counsel. By the way, Jackson was my grandmother's family name. I'll spare you the lurid details, however I'm not the legitimate son of my father. In fact it wasn't until about 20 years ago I found out the truth. I thought my father was Jamison until I graduated college. Then I was told the truth. My father was John, never married, instead choosing to have various mistresses throughout his adult life, married instead to the family business. He was ruthless and highly successful. One of his mistresses it turns out was my mother, his Brother Jamison's wife! Showing up 20 years later doesn't make someone your Dad. Jamison is my Dad. John might be my biological father, but he isn't my Dad. I guess all was resolved between them because they are able to get along today. What animosity still exists is on my father's part as he is resentful of my continued father-son type relationship with my now 'uncle" Jamison. Ten years ago I met Debbie, then 21, at a job fair. Not only was she hired by Duncan Media, she became my wife shortly thereafter. Although nepotism abounded within the company ownership, the four of us are the only family members working in the business. What brought us together at this unusual Sunday meeting was a takeover attempt by DellaHouse Publishing. DellaHouse is controlled and run by a man that went by one name, DellaHouse, supposedly meaning Of the House. Jamison was running the meeting, explaining the situation. He pointed out the high probability of success of the takeover due to an aging shareholder population and the lucrative offer price. And even though we had a predominately insider board, an unofficial polling of members suggested they would vote favorably for the takeover. "So you're saying the chances are high DellaHouse will be successful and we will lose the company," I repeated? "Yes," replied Jamison flatly. "They have been very shrewd in structuring the offer. It's a very lucrative stock price for those shareholders only concerned about money; they have also offered to continue the Duncan family leadership of the combined company addressing those family members concerned about the family legacy; and to put a crown on the deal they are proposing to rename the combined business The House of Duncan, again reinforcing the Duncan legacy and addressing the value in the Duncan name." "Isn't there anything we can do," my father asked? "A poison pill perhaps?" We all sat silently for what seemed like 5 minutes, but was probably far less. Then Jamison leaned forward and very evenly said "perhaps there is." "What is it," my father eagerly asked? "A reverse merger," like the lawyer he was, Jamison replied without emotion. "How do we do that," Debbie quickly probed? "There is this Article 18 in their offer agreement. On the surface it would appear to be intended to preserve the Duncan family leadership of the business. However if you extend the time line through to where John ultimately steps down, it is really a vehicle to wrest operating control of the business from the Duncan family," he explained. We all leafed through the document in front of us until we found the Article in question. "It's titled Succession," Debbie said. "Yes, that's it," he answered. "This explains that the merged company will remain under the current Duncan family management so long as John remains active in the business, essentially Chairman. However, when he steps down, or the board votes to remove him, the Chairmanship will be assumed by a legitimate Duncan heir, DellaHouse, or his legitimate heir. As part of the merger DellaHouse will assume the position of Vice Chairman in the merged company." He paused before continuing. "It goes on to define succession is to John or DellaHouse as the patriarch of their respective families, and that an heir must be by a legally binding marriage as of the date of the offer." "Dad isn't married," Debbie remarked. "So what happens when he steps down? Does Jack take over?" My father sat with a perplexed look on his face, then spoke up, "no, they obviously know Jack is my illegitimate son. This clause is how they wrest control of the business from the family!" "How so," Debbie asked? "I will have no legitimate heir, DellaHouse will become Chairman and CEO with the ability to oust Jack and put his own President in and anyone else he chooses," my father explained. Turning to Jamison he asked "so what's the reverse merger angle you have in mind?" Jamison sat quietly for what seemed an eternity before speaking. "We can use this clause. They don't think you have a legitimate heir, and you aren't married," he looked around the table before continuing. "Hold your tongues and hear me out. We disclose that you are married and your wife will assume leadership of the company." "Jamison, are you suggesting I get married and back date the marriage certificate," my father asked? "No, too many loose ends I'm afraid," Jamison replied. "So how do you propose to circumvent the succession," I asked? Turning to me he explained "they don't know you and Debbie are married. In fact, nobody here knows you two are married to each other. You have been very adept at keeping that private. And because you live in adjoining penthouses, no one living in the same building knows either. We have checked," he explained. "However once they are given access to all our files as part of the discovery, they will uncover that fact." Leaning forward my father said "so?" "A fortunate set of circumstances are in place here to turn the merger on its head," he began turning to look each of us in the eye. "Get on with it Jamison, we're sitting here all ears," Debbie scolded. "They have been focused on John and his life. They have found no marriages, nor any children born within a marriage of course. They know Jack was not conceived within a marriage thus this clause excludes him from succession, intentionally of course. So they think the path forward is clear," Jamison rattled on in true lawyerly fashion, ignoring our plaintive requests to get to the point. He sat with a smug look on his face. Finally he said, "Jack, you and Debbie were married in the islands. Your marriage certificate is located there, not here. There is a copy of course in the company files, which I keep. With some slight editing of the paperwork files, a little change to the official marriage certificate, and some other papers we make Debbie John's wife. They would be married 10 years, long before the date of this offer." Incredulously I shouted "what" coming out of my chair, nearly launching myself into his face? "Calm down Jack," Debbie cajoled, then turning back to Jamison, "You mean just changing some paperwork is all it takes? My father sat back in his chair, seemingly absorbed in the idea. "No, we'd have to set up house, we'd have to live together. And we'd need a history, photographs, and other things that would confirm our life together." Stunned I turned to him and said, "You're not considering this seriously? Do you honestly think this ruse would work?" "How long," Debbie asked? "I have a team of professionals in place waiting my word from this meeting. Just a couple days I should think," Jamison answered. "Debbie," I cried! "Settle down Jack," she shot back. Turning to Jamison, "no Jamison, I meant how long would we have to keep this pretense up," she asked?" "John can step down any time after the closing and you would become Chairman and CEO and have the full authority and discretion of the office," he explained. I slumped in my chair with a mixture of resignation and shock. They can't be seriously considering this foolish idea. "I understand that, I mean how long would we have to continue this," she paused then "charade and how do we go back to our existing lives," she questioned. "Oh," Jamison exclaimed! "Well, the simple answer is after you have assumed the leadership of the company you get a divorce." "A DIVORCE," I bellowed! It was clear to everyone I was not onboard with this idea at all. Jamison remained calm and turned to look at me. "Yes, Jack, a divorce. Notwithstanding how we got there, to everyone else your father and Debbie will be married. It will be out in the open, the shareholders of both companies will know, the Boards will know, the employees will know, and the business community will know as this merger will certainly be in the papers, so a divorce is how we will undo it," he explained. Then turning to Debbie he continued "as for how long, a few months, perhaps as long as a year. I'm sure it will be salacious but a divorce will be the cleanest way to return to your present lives." "We will be living together during that time as husband and wife," Debbie reiterated? "Sleeping together," I blurted out. "Jack," Debbie shouted firmly standing from her seat glaring angrily at me. "Sleeping arrangements can be dealt with, Jack. Besides you live in adjoining penthouses, I'm sure we can figure something out," he replied. We all sat in silence for nearly an hour, well not me. I paced the floor for probably half that time before sitting in disgust. I studied my father trying to read his mind. He is 80 years old but hardly looks 60. At 6 feet tall, he is lean and muscled, with a quick step. He is well tanned with a shock of white hair on his head, otherwise he is clean shaven and always sharply dressed and coiffed. His most notable feature aside from his tough personality, is his eyes, piercing blue. He has an aura about him that commands admiring looks and attention from women of all ages, including my wife. I looked to Debbie who sat quietly with her hands in her lap. Like all husbands, I think she is beautiful. At 32 years old she is a little over 5 feet 7 inches tall, about 120 pounds, with shoulder length blonde hair and lovely green eyes. She is shapely with full breasts, hour glass curves falling to long eye-catching legs. The epitome of a trophy wife, my trophy wife. Finally my father broke the silence and spoke. "Jamison, do you think we should do this?" He nodded. "Debbie, what about you?" She first looked at me and then turned to my father and said "yes, I see no other viable option." He mulled over the situation and then turned to me. "Jack, under the circumstances it appears your vote is the only one now that counts. We'll leave the decision to you." I felt sick to my stomach. "Jack," Debbie softly spoke, "we must do this," and then her voice dropped off. Silence ensued until almost imperceptibly I choked "I agree." Jamison slid a folder to each of Debbie and me. "That is an itinerary for a business trip, you are leaving this evening. You will take different flights to different destinations, but will end up at the same location tonight. I have you scheduled to be out of town on business for the week. It is really so you can be alone together," he offered. It was a nice gesture even if he had made a huge assumption as to the outcome of the meeting. The gears were set in motion immediately. Changing the company paperwork was easy. How Jamison managed to pull the original marriage certificate and other public documents and swap them out with ones that stated Debbie married John Jackson Duncan, I'll never know, but it was done. Jamison's team of professionals digitally altered photographs redacting me and inserting my father into wedding pictures, vacation and other personal family photos as well. Two days after our meeting, DellaHouse was granted permission to come in and perform their due diligence. Jamison had informed DellaHouse in accordance with Article 18 that Debbie and my father were actually husband and wife. This sent them into a tizzy as they scurried about interviewing and searching for any evidence that might prove a fraud on our part. We were called back from our week away for an urgent meeting at the office on Friday and Jamison told us that DellaHouse was furious with his team. He had ordered them to leave no stone unturned, including spying on us to gather any evidence against us. He wasn't just suspicious, he was adamant this situation was a deception and his people had to prove it. At stake now was his business! "So, just know we are all being watched closely. They are likely listening, videoing and lurking everywhere. Don't assume you can say anything even in private. I have taken the precaution to put encryption software on all your mobile devices and computers. So assume they are trying to capture even your text messages and email. Also they could be using listening devices that can pick up conversations from 100s of yards away. From now on, if you want to have a private conversation take a random taxi or ride a public bus or subway." It seemed we were walking on egg shells! While all this subterfuge was going on the details of the merger continued to be worked out. That weekend DellaHouse had invited us all to a private island resort for two weeks to work on the deal negotiations. We left directly from the office. Jamison warned us again to assume everything is bugged and that DellaHouse's people would be watching every move we made. When we arrived my father and Debbie were assigned a luxury suite next to me with an adjoining balcony overlooking the coral blue inlet and white sandy beaches at the resort. That night DellaHouse hosted a cocktail party with live music. It was a dressy affair so all the men wore black suits and ties and the women wore evening gowns. I couldn't take my eyes off of Debbie. She was wearing a beautiful powder blue floor length gown slit all the way to her hip, showing off the full length of a shapely leg. What had me hypnotized however, was her top was shear with a plunging neck line and she was braless. Her breasts, and nipples were on full display. It was later that I realized all the women wore see through gowns of one style or another. Obviously a staged choice intended to disarm the gentlemen by the highly stimulating scenery. I had a perpetual hard-on throughout the evening. At one point I was talking with Jamison when he commented that my father and Debbie made a good looking couple. I had been watching them closely and had to agree. They were flirting, kissing and warmly touching each other. I felt a rush of jealousy flow through me as I bit my tongue to avoid making a scene. Overcoming my jealousy I discovered a voyeuristic lust in watching them. I retired to my suite about 3 AM. I was still torn inside from the obvious intimacy my father and Debbie had shown each other, so I poured myself a stiff drink and went outside on the balcony to sip my scotch, choosing to reflect on the evening in my solitude. At some point I became aware that the sliding doors to their suite were open. I could hear her moaning and gasping in what could only be the throes of intercourse. I immediately was erect, uncomfortably so. I was eves dropping on my father fully engaged in sex with my wife. I found myself wanting to turn and watch, lust and desire overwhelming my own dread and jealousy. It seems they had no limitations, as the moans and murmurs and whispering went on till the first rays of sunlight shown on the horizon over the bay. I finally went into my room and relieved my own lust before falling to sleep. I woke mid-morning to the sound of the shower next door. I called for room service and cleaned myself up before taking my breakfast and coffee on the balcony. "She had sex with him last night," I quietly mumbled to myself. I just hung my head looking at the food on my plate. The day's events were preplanned, sailing and snorkeling the afternoon's entertainment. Later that day as my father, Debbie and I boarded the boat a drink was immediately put in our hand. As we left the dock everyone was comfortable lounging on deck. DellaHouse leaned over to my father and said "you know, if I didn't know you two were married for 10 years I would swear you acted like newlyweds." Ever the quick witted one my father let out a big laugh and replied "I have her every chance I get," he looked directly at me when he said this, laughing loudly. I felt a sinking in my heart realizing that my own father was enjoying this at my expense. It was then that DellaHouse's wife got up and said "come on Debbie, let's give these boys something to look at." With that she unhooked her bikini top and dropped it, and then slid her bottoms off. Standing stark naked she looked at Debbie and challenged her "well, you weren't shy last night, let these guys get a good look at that body of yours." Not to be out done, my father stood up and took Debbie's hand pulling her to her feet. Turning her to face me, he unhooked her top tossing it aside as he whispered in her ear. Then he stooped down and pulled the strings that held her bikini bottoms in place and tossed them aside too. I marveled at my naked wife in front of me. The sunlight seemed to weave a spell on me. My eyes traced the smooth curves of her long legs, sweeping across her round bottom and womanly hips, the graceful arc of her belly up to her firm, supple, pert breasts. I lingered studying the softness of her nipples before rising to her face, framed in golden blonde shoulder length hair, a gentle smile and sparkling eyes. I watched as my father stood behind her, both intently watching me, sliding his hands up over her belly to cup her breasts, lightly pinching her nipples, before sliding one hand to her sex. Only a light curl of golden hair announced what was hidden beneath, demonstrating for all to see she was a natural blonde. With apparent ease my father pushed two fingers inside her. I looked intently as she closed her eyes and turned slightly, parting her lips to kiss him deeply. The day proceeded with one-upmanship after another. It wasn't long before both men were nude and engaging in vigorous foreplay with the girls. It wasn't lost on me how huge my father's cock was, easily the thickest cock I'd ever seen, and half again as long as mine. Debbie's fingers could not touch as she grasped his sex. She ran her tongue over the length, moistening the soft skin before closing her lips over the head. Pulling back her tongue teased along the crease. Her lips closed around my father's thick, rigid cock as she moved her head taking it further into her mouth. His hands pressed down on her head as he fucked into her throat. Her lips are stretched and her jaw painfully wide, still she can't take him all the way in. She pulls free and uses her tongue to moisten his cock, sucking on his sperm filled balls until she again takes this sexual plunderer deep into her mouth, surrendering to the cock before her. It wasn't long before her cheeks puffed out and she gagged as he spewed his cum into her throat. She worked valiantly to swallow it all, reveling in the taste. Amazingly he wasted no time to recover. Soon I watched in what could only be termed a perverted state of arousal and a fitful jealousy as my father rubbed his cock head over Debbie's swollen clit, and slowly pressed it into her. It seemed to take forever as his cock slowly inched into my wife's sex. He was getting a perverse enjoyment with her begging him to "please fuck me." Her intimate treasure was now invaded by my father's sexual organ. His huge cock, the one that conceived me, was now planted entirely and firmly within the belly of my wife. Yes I sat like a depraved voyeur, mesmerized by the explorations of Debbie's body by his hands, his mouth, his tongue as he thrust in and out of her. I listened knowingly to her sobs, moans, and pleas for him to cum. I felt as much as I heard her soft cries at his every discovery of her. I saw her body rise to meet his. I knew the familiar whimpers of her orgasms. I understood her sighs when he spewed his seed within her. I was envious, troubled and euphoric by their mating. I wondered why I was included as the sex was nonstop. I realized that I clearly was a fifth wheel. Intentional? Yes, I believed so. DellaHouse got a great amusement at my expense. "Jackie boy, you must be quite the voyeur. I can see that Debbie has an effect on you too!" Suddenly I was both humiliated and embarrassed as my erection had not gone unnoticed. Debbie seemed slightly troubled at this disclosure as she stared at the state of my erection. My father leaned over to whisper in her ear, yet loud enough that all could hear "see, I told you." When we finally returned to dock the girls only put on their bikini bottoms and walked back to the resort and through the hotel topless. There were plenty of gawkers too. I decided to have another drink and went to the bar where I found Jamison. I related the events on board the boat, leaving out the most lurid details while we sat at the bar. "Jack, I don't know what to say," he said patting me gently on the shoulder. "Why?" I wondered out loud. "To humiliate you. I'm sure that's why you were invited today, why else? He cuckolded you in front of DellaHouse," he sobbed. "To him, sex and business are one in the same, the most ruthless and powerful dominate. He gets the same pleasure taking Debbie in front of you as he does winning a big business deal." Jamison got up and left me alone to contemplate the events leading up to this, and wonder if he might be right. It was plausible, and knowing my father's reputation it could be true. But how could he have foreseen this? And whatever did I do to deserve the humiliation he had brought upon me? On our third night at the resort when I returned to my room there was an envelope on the floor just inside the door. I picked it up and opened it. Inside I found a small USB. I poured myself a drink and sat in a chair with my computer and plugged it in. It was a large MP4 file. I opened it and found Debbie and my father embracing in their room. She was wearing the gown from the first night party. I watched her kiss my father, a deep, full mouth loving kiss as she held him close to her. Holding the embrace he deftly unzipped her gown and let it slide to the floor. As I had suspected that evening, she wore nothing beneath the gown, she was totally naked. He lay her on the bed, and quickly removed his own cloths, and laid on his side facing her. He kissed her and then trailed kisses to her breasts, suckling on each nipple as his fingers found their way to her sex. I had a full view of her in striking profile. The swell of her breasts and heave of her chest betrayed her arousal. I was torn as I watched him caress her body, touching tenderly and lightly every inch of her. He stroked her breasts, squeezing and gently pinching. I could see her nipples harden under the exploitation of his fingers as he squeezed and pulled them. He tickled her inner thigh and little by little traced a path to her most intimate feminine area. She arched and hung her head backward, her face to the ceiling. Her hands were clenched into tight fists as she trembled. Although I could not see, I imagined his fingers pushing into her. He was touching her in a place that only I had known before. There was nothing lewd about this display. On the contrary it was a very sensual vision. I discovered the jealousy within me defeated by a voyeur's hunger that I never knew existed. At this very moment I was full of lust watching my father making love to my wife. I saw her shudder in orgasm. At one point he leaned to suckle upon a pink nipple like a child as she embraced his head to her breast, the contrast in their ages adding to the fire within me. "Dad," she whispered "I didn't think," she paused an obvious flush rising on her face, then "we would actually have sex. What about Jack," she questioned softly as he played with her breasts? He showered her face with kisses, then she added, "He will find out." "Yes, he will and he will learn to accept it," he suggested softly, stroking her hair and lovingly kissing her lips. A gentle smile creased his face as he held her in his arms kissing her. I watched her hand slowly trail down his body and grasp his cock, inhaling deeply as she did. I watched and felt the pangs of jealously along with the resurgence of desire. I undid my pants and fumbled with my erection as I watched my father take my wife for what was obviously the first time. My emotions were charged to the extreme. I struggled to contain my breathing under control. I could feel the sexual heat in my loins and blood rush to harden my cock. The new found voyeur in me wanted to watch her with my father. But I was in turmoil, frightened of where that would surely lead. My mind and body were on fire fueled by anticipation, dread and desire. His eyes were focused on her. I could sense her excitement growing. I looked at her pale form in the dim light. I could see the curve of her hips and silky texture of her skin. My heart was racing waiting for her next move. Turning slightly to him, he reached a hand out and carefully cupped her breast. I could see his finger and thumb lightly flicking over her nipple. He then lay back drawing her breast to his lips as she turned her back and lay next to him. I saw her leg glide up and over and rest upon his hip. I saw his erect penis. My father was indeed well endowed, long and thick. The thought of seeing his immense cock slide into Debbie's body drove me insane. I wanted her to have sex with him. I wanted to see the huge head of his cock slip past her vulva. I couldn't help myself. I was frozen in anguish, emotionally frayed by the scene before my eyes, yet wanting it, no needing it to happen. With her hand, Debbie grasped his throbbing penis and guided it to her wet opening. The pressure of his cock at her sex increased and I could see an abrupt slipping as the engorged head slid slightly between her soaked lips. She arched her back to help him enter her. I could see his cock pushing into the open folds of her wet labia. I watched as my father steadily inserted his thickening penis deeper and deeper into Debbie, penetrating her, as she willingly opened her sheath to him. He slid within her until I could see his rigid cock probed fully into her. I knew he felt the warm folds of her pussy as his cock disappeared, pleasing her. He rested as if his cock belonged there. He stroked into her once, twice, and then again. I felt guilty as if I were the one cheating on her. A wrench of jealousy came over me to see my father's shaft, glistening with her wetness glide in and out of her body, his hands caressing her soft white breasts, and his lips nursing upon her lips. My father moved in and out of her for what seemed like an eternity as I watched his cock fuck into her, then out of her, then back in, stretching her and filling her. Her pink lips were spread, his cock tightly inside her, her soft folds parting as she drew him into her. I watched his body move in unison with her body. The two bound in a forbidden union as her sex suckled his cock as it fucked in and out of her. She locked her legs around my father as she dug her heels into his buttocks, pulling him into her, forcing his cock to fill her need. Her hips rocked as he withdrew his hardness from within her. His muscles tensed as he began to drive harder into her. She heaved her hips meeting his thrusts. I shook, captivated, watching their two bodies shudder in orgasm as my father spent his seed deep within her womb. Eventually sated, she lay in his arms, softly kissing and discovering each other's bodies. Perspiring she lay motionless, his cock still fully within her. Debbie lovingly said "Dad, I love how you feel inside of me. I am so full and happy." She smiled and gently kissed him. "I hope I please you as much as you please me," she whispered, her eyes watering as she spoke. I felt a cold chill wash over me as her words coursed through my brain. My hands shook, I felt light headed. My own father had just cuckold me and I was ashamed to be party to it. It was sometime later that I began to wonder how the videos were made. Somewhere in their room were cameras capable of filming in minimal light, and highly sensitive audio receivers. I could see what was transpiring as if in daylight, and I could hear their whispers as if I were there. The video clips were professionally spliced together and contained views from different vantage points within the room. Whoever prepared this file knew what they were doing. I watched it several times that night, shifting from a voyeuristic, broken husband, to a sleuth, examining the evidence before me. I found no behavior, no secretive glances toward a camera, nothing to even suggest my father knew their sexual acts were being taped. Yet, my mind wasn't quieted of suspicion. If it was DellaHouse, he has the evidence he was after! It was all on this video, incriminating statements made by both Debbie and my father. So what was the purpose of giving it to me? Several nights later we all went out to a local night club for drinks and dancing. Debbie wore a long sleeve white blouse and black slacks with matching shoes. During one dance my father playfully slid the blouse from her shoulders, teasing the crowd dancing around them. A group of what looked like college aged guys started chanting "take it off". Grinning from ear to ear my father took her hand and helped her climb onto the bar and he clapped to the music, urging her to take it off too. In all our married years I had never before seen my wife display such blatant sensuality as she danced to the music. The men in the bar crowded around the counter, cell phones raised to capture her tease. She danced for several minutes before slowly, teasingly unbuttoning her blouse, pulling it from her slacks. She unbuttoned the cuffs and shrugged the light material from her shoulders and down her arms, grasping it by the collar and tossing it into the crowd of young men gathered around the bar. Undoing her slacks she carefully pushed them over her hips and bottom, pushing them still to the top of the bar. Stepping slightly out of her shoes, she deliberately kicked her slacks into the crowd. Cheering was so loud we could hardly hear the music, yet she swayed and sensuously walked up and down the bar teasing the assembled group. The chanting continued, "Take it all off." When the next song started she very slowly walked along the bar, staring into the myriad faces of the young men admiring her. She reached behind her back and unhooked her bra, letting the straps fall carelessly from her shoulders while holding the cups in place with one hand. Her flirting with the patrons was overt and intentional. She looked to the back, to our table, her eyes fastened to mine as she dropped her hand holding the cups in place and let the bra fall to the bar top. The din increased even more. Her movements were purposeful as she wiggled her breasts to accentuate their brazen bareness. She slid her fingers into her panties and peeled them off, letting them fall to her feet and then kicking them out into the human bodies crowded around her. Then wiggling her bottom, her back to the crowd, she bent over displaying her perfect ass and the moist, puffy lips of her vulva. She then stood and spread her arms and fell face first into the arms and hands of the young men standing there. Hands were everywhere on her body, groping her breasts, tongues licking her, fingers pressed into her as she was passed among the crowd. Eventually after several minutes she was carried back to the table where DellaHouse, my father and I sat, applauding her strip tease. Over the next couple hours I watched my father and Debbie making out, his hands fondling her breasts and exploring her body. I felt my own painful erection betray my jealousy. Finally, Debbie's blouse, slacks and heels found their way back to her and she put on those clothes. The bra and panties never made it back. The party continued well into the night, drinking and dancing until the early hours of the morning before we finally returned to the hotel. I felt deeply troubled. I was highly aroused by her strip tease, but also privately embarrassed, even ashamed. I couldn't understand my own reactions, I couldn't control myself. She still turned me on, easily. But she was sleeping with my father. I poured myself a drink and went to sit on the balcony. The doors to Debbie and my father's suite were open and I could hear her moans. Foreplay I thought, exploring each other, enjoying the fruits of their bodies. The voyeur within me suddenly had an urge to watch, and I moved to a chair that gave me a view of their room. The moonlight shown into their room providing a good view of their writhing on the bed. I released my erection and slowly massaged my cock to their movements. I watched my father move between my wife's legs as he pressed his cock slowly into her, stopping only when he was completely inside. Resting while they kissed and his hands roamed up and down her body. I watched him draw nearly all the way out, then push hard back into her, repeating his strokes faster and faster as she exhorted him on, "fuck me, please fuck me Daddy, I want you to cum in me." Her voice rising as their bodies lurched first forward then back, then forward, her moans growing in crescendo and his grunts louder with each thrust. I saw his butt clench as he drove hard one last time, her legs entwined around him, tightly drawing him further into her, bucking her hips to match his penetration as she screamed a loud piercing wail. And then a long pause, as if both held their breath as they climaxed together and slowly came down from the peak of their sexual arousal. I realized I too had cum, without even touching myself, her words driving my own desires to heights I had not known existed. She was an insatiable, sexual woman and whatever jealously I had evaporated with their climax. I watched as she turned her eyes toward me. She saw me watching, limp cock and all. A weak smile creased her lips in recognition. I sat staring out at the bay until I fell asleep in my room. I awoke to voices on the balcony, it was daylight. I stepped outdoors to find Debbie and my father with Jamison having coffee and Danish. I sat down and poured a cup of coffee. The negotiations were going slowly and Jamison in his plodding style bored us with detail after detail. Then he turned to me as said "there are some urgent developments back at the office and I suggest you return and take care of them. I see no need for your presence here." I was on top of what was going on at the office and knew it really didn't require my presence. However, I guessed that Jamison was making an excuse for me to leave, to leave the hurt and sorrow and humiliation behind. I agreed and flew home that afternoon. A little over a week later Debbie and my father returned. She didn't come back to work right away, apparently busy redecorating their penthouse. Then more than a month later she called me at the office and asked to meet for lunch. It was awkward at first, silent most of the time as we ate. Finally she talked to me. Her eyes were moist, she struggled to look at me. "Jack," she began, "I've done some terrible things. I cheated on you with your father the very first night there. You watched me have sex with him," she paused as tears were now running down her cheeks! "I have something to tell you," she began. She fidgeted in her chair, twisting a finger through her hair, looking off into space. Moments passed as she was obviously working up the nerve to say whatever it was she intended to tell me. I sat quietly waiting for her. Finally she said "Jack, I am pregnant with your father's baby," she said. I can't say why those words shook me. I had already resigned myself to accept her living with my father until the merger completed. But those words did affect me. It meant things between us would change. I felt a slight quiver in my hands, wringing them to keep it from being obvious. I felt a lump in my throat and a clenching pain in my chest. Our life together would never be the same. He cuckolded me again, still controlling my life and emotions, the bastard. The next months were hard to get through. I watched Debbie as her belly grew, knowing it was my father's baby she was carrying. Yet all along I still looked at her as MY wife. The one person I most loved in the world. It hurt. About 7 months later Debbie went into labor and her and my father went to the hospital. She gave birth to a baby boy. Even though I knew this was coming I struggled with the reality. My wife, the love of my life, just gave birth to my father's baby! My father won again, not only humiliating me, and cuckolding me, but taking my wife in front of me and impregnating her. He still controlled the company and two weeks later he filed for divorce from Debbie on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. She came to see me, with the baby, and asked if I could forgive her and take her back. It might seem absurd but I didn't even hesitate, of course I would take her back. With the divorce filing it seems the new Board was not pleased with the attention and salacious nature of the situation. They pressured my father to step down. Against his will, and he fought it, he was forced out. Then out of nowhere DellaHouse stepped in and voided the Succession requirement and nominated me as the next Chairman, CEO and President of The House of Duncan. I was approved and took over the leadership of the merged company. Life seemed to return to some state of normalcy for Debbie and me; and the baby. Well, not exactly normal, as our relationship was purely plutonic. Neither of us spoke about it, it was just that way. We had separate bed rooms. Save for the obligatory polite kiss, or holding hands while taking the baby for a walk, within the walls of our house there was no intimate contact. Sometimes late at night I would pull out one of the video files from the resort. This seemed to satisfy any sexual tensions I might have. I was a cuckold, truly cuckolded by my father. I was raising his child, my half-brother that he conceived with MY wife. Several months later, DellaHouse invited us to dinner at his home. As he showed us through the house I paused to stare at a picture above the fireplace mantle. I looked at the background, it was taken here, in this house. The sofa, the pictures on the wall, yes this is where it was taken. It was a full size nude of Debbie reclining on the sofa. She took my hand and held it firmly as I studied it. Her blonde tresses graced her face and lay perfectly on her shoulders. She was wearing red lipstick that somehow enhanced the green in her eyes. Her nipples were the color of pink coral, her skin ever so slightly tanned, her belly had lost the flatness from before the birth of the baby, yet I found its softness enticing. My eyes travelled down to her hidden treasure below. The golden hairs above her sex were gone, bare as a new born. I followed her beautiful, shapely legs until I came upon a tattoo. I was stunned. It was a Queen of Spades above her ankle. I looked to her and back to the picture, all the while she hung on to me, tightly squeezing my hand till my fingers tingled. I turned back to the picture and stepped toward it examining the tattoo more closely. I turned to DellaHouse to find this large black man grinning ear to ear. I turned back to Debbie with a disbelieving stare. Her eyes didn't flinch. No words were spoken. None seemed necessary. She only nodded her head, ever so slightly. Apparently there was still a price to pay. From that moment in time I would come to know a whole new meaning of "The House of Duncan!"