It was rare for something exciting to happen to me. I wasn't a guy who needed the flashiest life in the world. Steady was just fine with me. But these last few weeks, despite everything... it was like a livewire. A vibrant current of excitement that I had never experienced before. Me, a normal forty-something, domestic dad, suddenly found himself as the target of a gang of twisted, teasing, gorgeous teenage sluts, young women who were willing to expose themselves lewdly for me. And looking at it now, slightly removed, part of me wondered if I had missed my chance. If I had missed out on something truly exciting just to maintain the status quo.
For good or bad, this Buttholing thing was the biggest event that had happened to me in years. There would be plenty of men who would look at me in shock for what I had turned down. A group of teenage sluts so aggressively pursuing them would be plenty of men's fantasies. Even the added wickedness of my daughter being the one leading the charge wouldn't be enough to stop plenty of men. If they had a daughter who was as hot and sexy as Sabrina and as a big a tease as she was, there wouldn't be much that could stop them from indulging in her forbidden flesh. They'd be amazed that I hadn't.
I saw it as this big forbidden thing. It was incest! It was so fucking wrong. Plus, you know, I was married. Happily. But so many would be baffled that I hadn't given in. That I hadn't sampled her luscious body for myself. Sabrina seemed baffled that I hadn't, as if the whole incest thing was no big deal. That it was almost incomprehensible that I wouldn't join her in sin. Bury my stiff, fatherly rod in my own daughter's waiting and eager snatch and make her scream with pleasure. Was that how things were these days? Were incest and cheating no big deal? Is that what the most promiscuous of girls were willing to do today?
Was I the fool here? Was I the only one missing out on the party? Was I missing out on the thrill of the forbidden by living by outdated rules? Was I clinging to a boring, dull, regular life, when I could be experiencing something far more exciting and fulfilling?
I couldn't say for sure.
I felt like I was a good guy. I felt like I was a good husband. I was doing the right thing here... right? I shouldn't even think about fucking my own daughter. That's a fact. A rule set in stone. Was that what made it so exciting? Was that what made it so much fun? Breaking the rules. Sampling the forbidden fruit. I could understand that, at least, and it would explain why my cock got so hard during every step of this crazy adventure. But fantasy was one thing. Yeah, it was wrong, but I knew better than to actually indulge, despite how wickedly exciting it might be. That was the point of no return. If one were to give in to this ultimate temptation, there'd be no coming back.
I hoped that I could wean myself off the illicit thoughts I'd been having, and eventually return to normal. I was hoping that I could throw myself into my normal everyday life, and eventually just move past it. But the inanity of my standard day was agonizing. I had dipped one toe into the sea of the forbidden, and all I could think about was that experience. It was so much more interesting than my ordinary life that it was consuming my thoughts.
By lunchtime, I found myself sitting at my desk, phone in hand, drifting through the catalog of Buttholing pictures I'd been sent, nursing a hard dick, knowing that I couldn't do anything about it. I wasn't about to jack off at my desk again. I wasn't about to relapse into what I was trying to leave behind.
That being said, part of me couldn't help but think about it. Think about the large part of me that wished the game was still going. Man, what I wouldn't give for more. What I wouldn't give to still be getting barraged by pictures of sexy buttholes. What I wouldn't give to have more teasing glimpses at their huge tits, seeing the soft flesh but never seeing the full deal. I'd give anything to be withheld the sight of their huge, bare breasts but still teased to the point of insanity. But that is how I got into so much trouble, so I knew deep down I just couldn't do that stuff anymore.
For the rest of the day, I kept one eye on my phone, getting angrier that I was getting sent nothing from those girls. They so easily upended my life, doing it almost casually. Now, they think it's cool to just walk away? Leave me in this state? They get to just continue on as if all was normal? How was this fair?
I was glad to reach the end of the day, anything to escape the doldrums of my normal workday and find some distractions anywhere else. I got home, still a little nervous to be alone with my daughter. Even though she hadn't done anything over the phone, I still recalled the teasing she did at home the day before, and part of me was worried she'd try to pull something like that again. Once more, I came home to silence, but this time, she was nowhere to be found. My heart dropped slightly when I heard footsteps coming downstairs, dreading what she had cooked up for me.
"Hi Dad!" she chirped with a bright smile, walking by me with a normal teenage lack of interest, heading towards the kitchen. She was dressed in a loose yellow tank top, dark grey yoga pants, and a pair of sporty sneakers. She walked towards the kitchen and grabbed a thermos of water from the fridge. She returned to the edge of the living room, glancing towards me. "Going for a run!" she announced, pulling her chestnut hair back into a ponytail before putting in her earbuds and moving towards the door. It was a typical, innocent interaction, the kind we'd had thousands of times. She was acting like the daughter I'd always known, and not the tease who'd sent me dozens of pictures of her butthole. As she walked towards the front door, she still acted like none of what had recently transpired between us happened. As if all was back to normal, and she'd been unaffected by what had occurred between us. But I remembered. This interaction wasn't normal for me on my end, because all I could do was admire was how delicious her juicy ass looked in those tight, form-fitting yoga pants.
Shaking any thoughts I had of yanking down those tight pants and getting an up-close look for myself, I tried to focus on returning to normalcy, turning on the TV, hopping online, anything to drown out all these wicked thoughts.
When my wife got home, I happily chatted about her day, and made dinner alongside her. And for a bit, everything seemed good. I felt as if I could do this.
But I was filled with those old feelings when Sabrina returned from her run. She came in through the back door, and she looked like she'd had a good workout. She was breathing deep, her cheeks were red, and she was coated with sweat. Her top was slightly soaked with her perspiration as well. As she walked in, she wiped her brow with the back of her hand and pulled her earbuds from her ears.
"Hi!" she said to Charlotte, greeting her mom, breathing deep.
"Good workout?" Charlotte asked.
"Oh yeah!" Sabrina said with a light smile. At no point did she acknowledge me or even glance my direction. It was probably for the best, because I was lost in my own thoughts, thinking about other things that could get her so sweaty. "I'm gonna hop in the shower," she said to her mom, setting off more fantasies in me. And again, she didn't even give me a passing glance.
That's how it was the rest of the night. No stray glances. No teasing comments. No knowing grins. Nothing. I had my phone in my pocket, but I got nothing there from her either. She had seemingly moved on, as she said she would. But I hadn't. I hadn't forgotten.
I never would.
The rest of the night was ordinary. It was everything I should want. Uneventful. Quiet. Peaceful. Sabrina was out of the way, hanging out in her room for most of the night. And Charlotte was in a great mood the whole night, being joking and flirty, reminding me of some of our younger days. We even made love that night. We didn't have a ton of sex anymore, and she said as much, sensing my need lately, and she was there for me in this moment.
So why wasn't this good enough?
Everything was being impacted by what I'd been through. In the quiet, domestic moments of peace, my thoughts kept drifting to my teasing, wicked, crazy-hot daughter who wanted my dick. When Sabrina ignored me, I was filled with a jealous fury. Had she moved on from this game she was playing with me? Was she texting other guys, looking to get what I wasn't willing to give her? It was infuriating. Why couldn't I move on?
Even during sex, my thoughts drifted. I did my best to hide my conflict from my wife, but I was really struggling not imagining Sabrina in my wife's place. And all I could do was look at my wife and wonder what I was missing out on. I looked down at my wife, the women I pledged my life to, and I saw her as the middle-aged, slightly overweight, flat-chested woman she was. I looked down at her, the woman I loved, and saw all her flaws. My daughter had her beat in every way. She was prettier than her mother, by a lot. She had better lips. Better eyes. Better hair. And then her body... ooh, her body. My daughter was a tall, fit young woman with a flat tummy, massive knockers and a perfect, juicy ass. My wife... she didn't compare. Her aged, still pretty, but slightly wrinkled face. Her hair, still nice and sensible but slightly greying. Her stomach was soft and fleshy, not taut and tight like Sabrina's. Her breasts were barely there, and even saying that, they seemed slightly saggy, if that makes sense. But the biggest thing was, during our lovemaking, Charlotte just lied there. We'd never had the craziest sex in the world, but sex had never seemed less exciting than it did that night, reserved and quiet, with her just lying there, me on top. If this was Sabrina, she'd be riding me hard, screaming out like a complete whore as she fucked me into the bed, with my hands all over her lustful body, a huge grin on my face. But with Charlotte, it was slow... and gentle... and quiet. Even when I came, it was unsatisfying, as I came in only the fraction of the amount I now knew I was capable of, and it was into a condom, since my wife wasn't on birth control due to the infrequence of our sex life.
