My Lecturer My Husband

It was raining heavily as Ruth pounded on the door of her best friend's house. The lights of the house weren't on and her best friend's car wasn't in the driveway, but she was so enraged that she didn't care. She was about to give up on the door and just crash through the front window when the light in the sitting room came on and the door opened.

"What in the hell are you...." Her best friend's dad looked furious until he saw her. His jaw dropped as he looked at her.  He was silent for some moment as his eyes glued on her body. Reason which Ruth didn't know and didn't even care to know. "Hey! Ruth, what's going on?"

"Where is she, Mr. Lesnar?" she asked, her face flushed. "I need to speak with Kelly right now."

"She's not in the house" He replied. He looked worried, though he wasn't looking at her. Ruth guess he had reason to be worried but that is not what she came for. That's non of her business. Her business in his house is to find her daughter and tear her flesh into pieces.

"Where is she?" Ruth demanded. "I'm going to kill her, Mr. Lesnar, I swear to God, I..."

"Ruth, please calm down," He said as he rested his hands on her shoulders, shaking her gently, though he was still looking determinedly away. "Kelly and her sister went to visit her grandmother, and they won't be back until tomorrow. Now please come inside. The rain is too much. Come inside and dry off. You're going to get sick."

He let go of her, and she stepped into the house as he pushed and shut the door behind her. The wind that was blowing her skirt around her bare legs stopped, and she immediately felt the warm air in the house against her. She glanced in the hall mirror. Her blonde hair was matted against her head, dripping water down her makeup merared face, and her skin was white as snow. She laughed, a short, desperate bark, before she burst into tears and sank down on the floor.

"What is that? what's going on? Ruth." Mr. Lesnar asked as she buried her head in her hands. She heard a door open and after a moment, a large jacket being placed around her shoulders. "Did you walk here?.... Ruth, honey, talk to me. Why are you crying? What did Kelly did go to you?. What's going on?"

She shook her head as she sobbed. "She had sex with him," She coughed. "She... she..."

"Kelly?" He asked.

"Yes, Kelly!" She almost screamed. "She slept with... she fucked my boyfriend!"

Her heart was pounding as she sobbed into her hands. Mr. Lesnar was quiet for a bit, holding the jacket against her as she cried.

"Are you sure?" Mr. lesnar asked.

"Of course I'm sure," she sobbed. "I have the p-pictures." She started to cry even harder, and she began to cough as she cried.

Mr. Lesnar grabbed her hand. "You have to calm down a bit," He said softly. "You're going to hyperventilate." He wrapped his arms around her as she sat on the floor, holding her until her coughs subsided and her sobs turned into just sniffling. As she calmed down, she began to shiver. Once she sneezed, Mr. Lesnar pulled her to her feet.

"We have to get you into some dry clothes," He said. she looked at him. He looked worried, but also angry, and his jaw kept twitching. "Come on, I will grab something of Ashl..."

"No," she said, cutting him off. "I don't want that sluts clothes on my body."

"My daughter is not a slut, Ruth," he said, "I know how hurt you are but You don't call my daughter a slut in front of me. She's still my daughter. Its hurts hearing you say that in front of me. You can say it to her face and not to her dad. Come on, there's got to be some explanation."

she shook her head. "I... I..."

"Come on, you can't wear soaking clothes. You look like you walked here under the heavy rain. Why didn't you use your car ?"

"Gas," she muttered, as he helped her up the stairs. "I'm not wearing her clothes, Mr. Lesnar, I refuse to..."

"Whatever she did to you, it's not worth you getting sick," he replied. "Nothing's that bad."

"Is that what you will say?" She shot back. she pushed him away from her and led herself to Kelly's room. Mr. Lesnar followed her, standing in the doorway as she sat down in the chair in front of her computer. Her skirt made a loud squelch as she sat, and dripped all over her floor. She opened her email and clicked on the newest message, which was from her boyfriend's best friend. she clicked on the attachment, then looked at Mr. Lesnar. "Come here, you can't see from there."

He entered the room slowly, walking up behind her, and gasped as the picture loaded. He saw his daughter. She had her head turned to look at herself in the mirror beside her. Ruth's boyfriend was behind her, his dick buried in her ass, holding her digital camera as he took a picture in the mirror.

She clicked on the next one. They must have set the timer on this one, because it showed Kelly straddling her boyfriend, with just the head of his dick nestled in her pussy. Mr. Lesnar made a small, disgusted sound, and Ruth took that as her cue to click the next picture, which was a close up of her boyfriend's dick resting against Kelly's ass, globs of cum dripping down her smooth skin. she let go of the mouse and turned the chair to look at Mr. Lesnar. "Not that bad, you think?"

He was staring at the screen, his mouth open slightly. "She's not just a slut," he finally whispered. "She's a fucking ass slut."

Ruth laughed again, that same desperate bark, and walked away from the computer. Mr. Lesnar continued to stare at the open pictures on the computer, his face looking like it was set in stone. Ruth paced Kelly's room, her desire to destroy all of her possessions gone as she tried to think of a better revenge.

"I'm going to call her," Mr. Lesnar announced suddenly. "She's returning back home right now."

"No," she said. "I haven't decided what I'm going to do to her yet."

"Deal with your boyfriend first," he replied. "I will personally deal with Kelly." He turned away from her, but not before she caught him adjusting himself. He saw her looking and turned even faster, but she could still see him in the mirror over Kelly's dresser. There was a very noticeable bulge in his pants, and Mr. Lesnar realised he had been caught.

His mouth opened, as if he were about to say something, but she made a gagging sound and took a step back.

"You're fucking sick," she gasped, backing up. "You're getting off on those pictures!"

Ruth had known the Lesnar for years. She and Kelly have been best friends since elementary school. Ruth and Kelly have always been inseparable. When they graduated from high school, neither of them had a boyfriend.

Ruth met her boyfriend during thier first year of university, which Kelly and Ruth attended together, and now, at summer break.

  Mr. Lesnar and Ruth had always been close, too. His wife died when Kelly was really little, so he was always the one home. He used to take Ruth to soccer practice with Kelly when her parents couldn't drive, and when they got divorced, he let her stay at his house even though Kelly was away at camp.

Now Ruth was discovering that he got hard on watching his daughter get fucked. She couldn't believe that these people, who she had known for most of her life, were so disgusting.

"No, Ruth, that's not..." he started, covering himself and blushing as he turned to face her.

"You pervert! If I wasn't so pissed off at Kelly, I would report you. How can you be getting hard for your daughter. I thought you are a responsible father and now I can see how responsible you are. You probably fucking... touch her, don't you?"

He took a step towards her and she backed into the wall. "I would never, ever touch my daughter. Do you understand?" His face was contorted in anger. "That's not what... what this- " He motioned to his dick, which was definitely hard under his jeans " --is about."

"No?" she said, her voice shaking. Ruth was trembling as he walked towards her. "You didn't get hard looking at pictures of your little daughter getting fucked?" she shuddered, just saying the words.

He stood in front of her, his mouth open to say something. she studied him, the sick feeling she had being overcome by fear at being the only person in the house with him.

He didn't look like a pervert. In fact, there were days when she had noticed just how good looking Mr. Lesnar was. He was old enough to be her father -- he went to school with her father, even -- but he was nothing like her dad. He was in good shape, with short blonde hair, and was much taller than average. She kicked herself for thinking of that, given the present situation.

"No, I didn't," he replied finally.

"Then what was it?" she asked, her voice shaking, trying to figure out what he could possibly be getting hard on.

He stepped back from her, and she frowned, slightly confused. "You really want to know?" he said, his face red. she nodded. He swallowed hard. "You're standing there, soaking wet, and I..I can fucking see through your shirt."