This is a continuation of my previous work "A taste of Dad". This story can work alone but I recommend you check out the other one first, especially if you like oral escapades, which is basically all it is about. There's some amount of 'retracing steps' from the first story, but I think it's written in a way that contributes to this new one without being cumbersome to those that have read the other work.
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It was Layla's turn to sit nervously on the couch as soon as John angrily left their home to go pick up their daughter from the party she was in. The woman didn't sit surrounded by darkness under a sole brooding light like her husband had though, instead keeping every light on her house's ground floor shining bright, from the kitchen to the living room and entrance, and all the ones in-between; there was no use in bothering to turn them off, she was bound to pace through every division every few minutes anyways, fearing the worst for her Kimberly.
John had left so mad, out now for well over an hour already... Was the party that far away? The woman cursed herself for not having looked at the account name when she was shown those pictures of her girl... She tried to find it in the meantime, of course, but to no success. So she waited, paced and dreaded, wondering about every possible scenario she could imagine from her husband crashing the party... and probably the whole place too; he did have his temper after all...
Her concern growing by the hour, the woman was about to lap her kitchen by the nth time when she finally heard the heavy rumble of John's truck approaching, so clearly audible in the otherwise quiet night. She barely held herself from running towards the entrance despite rushing to it, opening the front door just in time to see the familiar vehicle parking in front of the garage door, making out two figures inside it. "
OK, at least she came back with him...
" She thought, tightening her silk robe as she felt the light bite of the late night's chill.
John looked at the clearly concerned outline of his wife standing at the door, waiting for them to come in. The man who some long miles back started his journey home with unshakable confidence had since got the time and silence to reflect on his actions, coming to realize that his wife might not exactly agree with the disciplinary approach he employed, given that having his own daughter unknowingly suck him off could be considered... Well, unconventional would be one way putting it. That being said, the man wasn't one to shy away from what came his way: he did what he did and he'd face the music for it. Hell, how could he set an example for his daughter if he didn't follow through with what he essentially put to promise? He said they were going to tell Layla every little thing, and by God they were going to! ...Even if the thought of it now gave him a cold spot in his lower back and slight knot on his throat...
The man turned to his daughter, who was nigh mortified to see her mother still up and waiting just as she had been assured, speaking measuredly to keep her from panicking. "Kim. Remember, everything. Got it?"
"...Y-Yes." The frazzled girl confirmed with a nod she coerced from herself, speaking her first words since they began their journey home.
"Good. Out." John calmly ordered, opening his own door with a deep breath, sure this would be a long night.
Layla fidgeted for a bit as she wondered about what they were saying, feeling a tightening in her heart when both her husband and daughter got out of the truck so obviously carrying in their demeanor and faces a weight that loomed over them. John was stiffish despite his best tries to look casual, as he always did when something big needed telling, and Kimberly... well, the girl was simply a mess! She moved very coyly, as if she was embarrassed to be seen wearing the shameless indumentary se so giddily flaunted at the party, fidgeting hands clasped on her little purse as if it were a buoy keeping her afloat.
John took a few steps before looking back, beckoning their daughter as he spoke more calmly than Layla would have ever thought possible given all the scenarios she had imagined. "Come on Kimmie, inside."
The girl finally gained some speed in her steps, coming fully into the light where her mother could see the sorry state she was in: her white tank-top was thoroughly crinkled and stained from all the drinks spilt on it back at the party, her pleated mini-skirt was even more revealing in person than Layla had realized from the videos she had been shown and, as if to add insult to injury, the heels adding a good couple of inches to Kimberly's height clacking on the pavement as she moved were ever the reminder of how perked up the girl's surely exposed rear was.
But all that mattered little to the woman; even the clear marks on Kimberly's knees were instantly pushed aside when Layla had a good look at her girl's face, eyes drawn to smudged and smeared make-up in various places, but none deserving more attention than the two thin-yet-noticeable trails of already dried-up tears running down her cheeks, telling the woman her daughter's faintly red eyes weren't there from the girl being tired.
"Oh my God, what happened?" The now shook woman rushed down the steps. "Are you OK? What happened? Kimmie-"
"We'll talk inside." John interrupted, putting a hand on his daughter's lower back and to usher her forward, his other reaching for Layla's shoulder.
"Don't give me that, she-"
"Layla, don't worry, we'll talk inside." The man again matter-of-factly interjected, now leading both his wife and daughter inside their home, getting daggers stared him all the while.
Front door locked, the women of the family each sat couches facing one another, the man standing a bit to the side.
"Well can we talk
now
?" The worried mother leered at her husband.
He nodded. "By all means. Kimmie, how about you start from the beginning. How was that little get together with friends of yours?"
Layla slammed her hand the armrest, ticked off by John's calmness. "No. I don't care about the beginning! Why were you crying? Did something happen, did..." The woman needed a moment to be able to speak her next few words. "...Did your father hit you?"
"No." Said father and daughter in unison, albeit in widely different tones -- his offended, hers surprised.
A wave of relief unlike any other washed over the concerned mother, though the question still stood. "Then why the tears?"
"I... Choked on... Something." The girl coyly admitted, earning a discreet smirk from her father who recomposed himself before coughing a bit, waving a hand.
"She'll get to it later, just... Just hear her out."
Kimberly inhaled deeply and took a sheepish glance at each of her parents before starting proper. "We didn't really have a get-together."
"No shit." Her father readily quipped.
"You wanted her to talk, let her talk, Jesus." Layla snapped at him, appeased but not completely diffused.
The girl continued. "Rachel knew about a party so we decided to go there, unwind a bit because of exam season, but I knew you'd make a thing out of it so I just said that-"
"OK, OK, you lied to our face and went out to a place full of strangers, that we very much know, how was the party hon, what'd you do there?" John decided to hurry things along, not in the mood for his daughter's lingering.
Kimberly gulped, twisting a bit of her top, which wrung some stale beer out of it.
Layla leaned in. "It's OK honey, I know, your dad showed me the pictures and the video of you with that boy with the beer." All the woman wanted was to let the night end and let her daughter go to bed, but she knew it would be better to go through it now rather than later, even if it hurt her to listen.
"That's... not... all that I did, though..."
John struggled to remain calm, barely managing to maintain his composure. "The photos and videos kept coming after I left, you know? And who're we kidding? We all know they started long before I even saw the page; damn thing couldn't even load it all."
Despite her worries and John's harsh words, Layla could see her Kimmie wasn't shying away from her father; sure, she looked awkward and embarrassed, but there was no hint of fear in her body language towards the man, a solace which let the woman allow herself to wait and listen in a much more comfortable fashion. "Alright... So... what else, honey?"
Prefacing the impending report with a deep breath, Kimberly started talking about the things she did in the party, fessing up to all that she had done as the memories popped in her mind: she started drinking, messing around with boys, hooking up with one she found especially cute, and all the stuff she did for the camera, be it a make-out session with her girlfriends, doing belly shots, kneeling down to get showered in beer as if she was in a porno, flashing people in the party for drinks, straddling guys on couches and dancing on their lap until they were hard to jump out and leave them blue balled... Feeling others through their underwear to size them up... And even participating on the 'Most Spankable Ass Contest'...
