It seemed that my dick was forever in my daughter’s vagina, her mouth, or up her bottom – her only complaint was that I couldn’t fuck her in all...three places at once – and when I wasn’t fucking her my cock was in her hand or between her breasts. Then one day I got a call to go to Hollywood for two weeks to work on a script. Hollywood being Hollywood, the two weeks stretched out to almost six months – I missed Chloe desperately, but the money was fantastic, and I planned to take her on holiday. But as the hours of the day passed, bringing the moment closer, that excited anticipation had turned to anxiety. How the hell did I let them talk me into this?I’d endured some friendly banter, knowing full well that my friends only had my best intentions at heart. But it really hadn’t been something I’d ever considered. When my husband Jason died, as far as I was concerned that was the end. It was just me, my two children, Rosie eleven and Sam seven, along with Toffee our ginger cat. The three. More

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