Chapter 5 Veiled Symptoms
ISABELLA
The house felt heavier now, like the air itself was thickening with secrets. It had been a week since I first tainted Mom's creamer with the antifreeze, and the effects were showing more each day. She moved slower, her face drawn and pale, complaining of constant fatigue and a burning in her throat. "I think it's that damn flu," she'd say, forcing a weak smile as she sipped her morning coffee laced with another dose I'd added just hours before. Daddy watched it all with a mix of concern for show and that hidden gleam in his eyes, the one that said he was as complicit as me. Last night, after he'd fucked me senseless in my bed, his cock still buried deep in my pussy, he'd whispered, "She's fading, baby. Soon it'll just be us." The words had made me cum harder, clenching around him like a vice.
This morning, I lingered in the kitchen, pretending to scroll through my phone while Mom shuffled in, her robe hanging loosely on her thinning frame. She poured her coffee, I added the creamer now half poison and stirred it absently. "Isabella, could you pass the sugar?" she asked, her voice raspy.
"Sure, Mom," I replied sweetly, handing it over. My heart raced as she took a long sip, the liquid disappearing down her throat. Each swallow brought us closer. Daddy entered then, briefcase in hand, looking every bit the concerned husband. "How are you feeling today, love?" he asked, kissing her forehead.
She sighed, setting the mug down. "Worse, actually. My legs ache, and I keep getting these dizzy spells. Maybe I should call the doctor."
Daddy's eyes flicked to me, a silent warning or was it excitement? "If it's not better by tomorrow, definitely. But rest today. Isabella can help around the house."
I nodded eagerly. "Of course. I'll make you some tea later." Tea I could spike too, if needed. As Mom headed back to the couch, Daddy cornered me by the fridge, his hand slipping under my skirt to cup my ass. "You added more?" he murmured, his breath hot against my ear.
"Yes," I whispered, pressing back into him. "Double again. She's drinking it right now."
He groaned softly, his fingers dipping between my thighs to find my panties already damp. "Fuck, Isabella. You're making it hard before work." He rubbed my pussy through the fabric, making me bite my lip to stay quiet. Mom was just in the next room, the TV droning faintly.
"Tell me you'll think about me all day," I breathed, grinding against his hand. "About how wet I am for you."
"Always, baby girl," he promised, slipping a finger inside my panties to tease my entrance. "Picturing this tight pussy waiting for my cock." He pushed in knuckle-deep, curling it just right. I gasped, clutching his arm.
"What if she goes to the doctor?" I asked, my voice shaky as he fingered me slowly. "They might test her blood."
He added another finger, stretching me. "We'll stop before it gets too far. Make it look like kidney issues from age or something. But god, the risk... it turns me on."
"Me too," I admitted, my juices coating his hand. "Fuck me quick, Daddy. Before you go."
He glanced at the doorway, then spun me around, bending me over the counter. My skirt hiked up, panties yanked aside, and his cock was out in seconds thick, veined, and ready to drill me. He thrust in hard, filling my pussy with one stroke. "Quiet," he warned, but his hips slapped against me rhythmically.
I muffled my moans in my arm, pushing back. "Harder. Think about her sipping that poison while you fuck me."
He growled, pounding deeper. "You're evil, Isabella. My evil little slut." His hand reached around to rub my clit, sending sparks through me. We came fast—me first, my pussy pulsing around him, then him, spilling hot cum inside me.
He pulled out, zipping up as I straightened my skirt, his seed trickling down my thigh. "Clean up, baby. I'll see you tonight."
The day passed in a blur of classes, but my mind was on home. Mom texted me: "Feeling awful. Can you pick up some meds on your way back?" I stopped at the pharmacy, grabbing antacids—useless, but it kept up appearances. I also swung by the auto store for more antifreeze, stashing it in my bag.
When I got home, Mom was in bed, looking frail. "Thanks, honey," she said as I handed her the pills. "Your dad's working late again. That merger."
I was concerned. "Rest, Mom. I'll bring you dinner."
Downstairs, I prepared soup easy to lace. A splash of the antifreeze, stirred in. It was tasteless; she'd never know. My pussy throbbed at the thought, the power intoxicating. I touched myself briefly in the kitchen, fingers slick, imagining Daddy's approval.
She ate half the bowl before waving it away. "Tastes off," she mumbled. "Maybe my taste buds are shot."
"Probably the flu," I said soothingly. As she dozed off, I texted Daddy: "Dosed her soup. Come home soon."
His reply: "Good girl. Be there by 10. Wait naked."
Anticipation built as I showered, shaving my pussy smooth for him. By 10, Mom was snoring from her meds, and I heard his car. He found me in the living room, sprawled on the couch, legs spread.
"Fuck, Isabella," he breathed, shedding his coat. "Is she asleep?"
"Out cold," I confirmed, my hand circling my clit. "Come taste me. I've been wet all day."
He knelt between my legs, his tongue diving into my folds. "Mmm, so sweet. Tell me about the soup."
I moaned, arching. "Poured it right in. She ate most of it. Complained about the taste, but swallowed anyway."
He sucked my clit hard. "Naughty. What if she suspects?"
"She won't," I panted. "Too weak. Finger me while you lick."
He obliged, two fingers plunging deep. "You're dripping. Love how this turns you on."
We talked through it, his mouth on my pussy. "Emily called today," he admitted between laps. "Wanted to meet."
Jealousy flared. "What did you say?"
"No," he murmured, curling his fingers. "Told her to fuck off. But she threatened to tell your mom."
My eyes widened, but the fear mixed with lust. "Handle it, Daddy. Or I will."
He chuckled at me. "My fierce princess. Cum on my tongue."
I did, grinding against his face, waves crashing. Then I pulled him up, undoing his pants. "Fuck my mouth now. Tell me how you'll silence her."
He stood, cock springing free. I took him deep, gagging as he thrust. "I'll pay her off," he grunted. "Or... whatever it takes."
"Poison her too?" I suggested, pulling back to stroke him.
He laughed darkly. "Tempting. But focus on your mom first."
I sucked harder, hollowing my cheeks. He came down my throat, groaning.
We moved upstairs to my room, safer. He laid me back, entering me missionary-style, slow and deep. "Feel that, baby? All yours."
"Yes, Daddy," I whispered, wrapping my legs around him. "Deeper. Talk about after she's gone."
He thrust steadily. "We'll sell the house, buy something new. Fuck in every room. No more midnight creeps—just you, wet and ready anytime."
I clenched around him. "Marry me? Make it official?"
"In time," he promised, speeding up. "You'll be Mrs. Richard. My wife, my slut."
The fantasy pushed me over, orgasming as he filled me again.
We cuddled, planning. "Tomorrow, doctor's appointment," I said. "What if they find something?"
"Deny everything," he advised, tracing my nipple. "Act shocked."
"But if they test for toxins..."
"We'll stop dosing for a bit," he said. "Let it build slowly."
I nodded, but inside, I knew I'd continue. The thrill was too much.
The next day, Mom went to the doctor with Daddy driving. I paced, anxious. They returned hours later; Mom looked exhausted. "They think it's kidney stones or infection," she said. "Prescribed antibiotics, tests next week."
Daddy winked behind her. "Nothing serious yet."
That night, with Mom medicated, he slipped in early. "Close call," he whispered, stripping. "But exciting."
"Fuck me doggy," I demanded, on all fours. "Punish me for almost getting caught."
He slammed in, spanking my ass. "Bad girl. But I love it."
We rutted like animals, talking risks. "If they find out," I gasped, "we run away."
"Together," he agreed, pulling my hair. "Cum, Isabella."
I shattered, pussy milking him dry.
Days blurred: more doses in her meds, tea, food. Mom worsened—vomiting, and confusion. Daddy helped now, slipping antifreeze into her water bottle at night.
One evening, with her passed out, we fucked on the stairs. "She's dying," he grunted, cock deep. "For us."
"Yes," I moaned. "All yours, Daddy."
Conversations deepened our bond—fantasies of her funeral, our honeymoon. His cheating past is forgotten; Emily silent after a "payoff."
We celebrated midnight with slow, passionate sex. "Soon," he whispered, cumming inside.
I smiled. Soon indeed.