Pure Indian Desi Cuckold

Published by vrt9450
1 year ago
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And then the light bulb went on above my head, like it does in cartoons when a character gets an idea or the answer to a question.
Holy shit -- my third child really wasn't mine -- she was the biological daughter of another man!
I was on the phone with a representative from Genealogygurus.com, inquiring as to why my daughter's DNA test had not been processed after 10 weeks. I had given her the test as an extra Christmas present, and I had given the rep the pertinent numbers so they could track it down. After about a five-minute hold, he came back on the line and assured me the test had been processed. Beyond that, it was a matter of privacy between the company and the person who had actually submitted the test, and he couldn't give me any more information.
"But if you've processed it, then how come she is not showing up in my DNA matches?" I asked in an agitated manner.
"Sir, there are several reasons why your daughter might not be showing up in your DNA matches, but I am not at liberty to discuss that particular test with you," he answered in a somewhat exasperated tone.
And that's when the light bulb went on. Obviously, the number one reason for her not showing up in my matches is because she is not a match.
I ended the call in a daze. I remember hitting the red "end call" button, then I remember starting to cry. I woke up a few minutes later curled up in a fetal position on the family room sofa.
I still had 15 minutes left of my lunch break, so I called my daughter, who was probably also on her lunch break as she worked in the same time zone as I did. I know she usually curled up with a book at her desk for lunch, so I wasn't worried I was interrupting anything. She picked up on the first ring.
"Hey, Dad, what's up?" she said somewhat guardedly.
"Pumpkin, you know I love and trust you completely, but I know what's going on with the DNA test," I bluffed. "I called Genealogy Gurus, and they told me it had been processed about two weeks ago."
There was a sound of air being sucked in on her end, then silence for at least 10 seconds.
"I know, Dad, We need to talk, but I can't do this here and now. Call me tonight, and don't be in the room with Mom when you call."
I was in a fog as I drove back to my office, and I have to admit, I didn't give my boss a productive afternoon at the engineering firm where I worked. There were so many things going through my mind, so many questions. And the thought that my little girl wasn't MY little girl.
Being the analytical sort that I am, I knew I had to prioritize my thoughts, and then work through the problems one at a time. I wasn't a vice president of engineering at Sickafoose Electronics for nothing, and at this point I knew the best thing for me was to treat my personal problems like they were project problems, and take them down in an orderly fashion. The "Old Ma
1 year ago
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