Sophia S Incestuous Choices Pt 01

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

The overarching theme here is parent/adult-offspring incest, so if that's not your thing this might not be for you. The story takes an atypical path that includes emotional, psychological, and fantasy aspects of taboo sexual behavior rather than jumping straight into family sex. Although, you'll find plenty of erotica along the way.

I love hearing from you; I read and appreciate all comments and messages, even if I'm unable to respond promptly.

Finally, this is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person or event, past or present, is purely unintentional and coincidental. All characters are over 18.

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Chapter 1:

My breath caught, and my body froze; I felt the blood drain from my face. The phone in my hand subtly trembled as I looked at the text I'd just received.

The familiar face, large expressive brown eyes, dark wavy hair cascading down around her face, over smooth, lightly tanned shoulders. The familiar mischievous grin I knew so well, smiling at me, eyes twinkling.

Then, the less-familiar aroused nipples erect like little erasers atop soft, curving bare breasts. And the utterly unfamiliar graphic display of wispy trimmed pubic hair framing open labia, glistening with moisture as I'd never imagined. Never could have imagined.

My daughter Sophia. I was holding an explicit nude photo of my 19-year-old daughter.

Myriad emotions flashed through my psyche: confusion, shock, bewilderment. The text was from my daughter—or at least, her phone. It was only the photograph, no accompanying message.

How did I get this? She accidentally texted the wrong person? A third person sent it? Why? What should I do? I don't want this on my phone, for god's sake. Fuck.

As I struggled to comprehend the photo I'd just opened, part of me realized how beautiful Sophia had become—a beautiful, sensual woman—a sexy, mature, attractive woman. But she was my daughter, my little princess, who loved ponies and kittens and danced around the house in a costume tutu and tiara. The juxtaposition of the contrasting images was bewildering.

I remembered to breathe and took a deep, cleansing breath. I dropped my arm down, closed my eyes, and tried to regain my composure. With another deep breath, I peeled open my eyes and stared vacantly at a drop of condensation tracing its way down the side of a glass of iced tea I'd poured just before getting the text.

Okay. It's just a picture. Might not mean anything. It must have been sent by accident, wrong number and all. Then who was she sending nude pics of herself like this to? A boyfriend? I don't know of anyone she's seeing.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts of such tangential concerns. Not really my business who Sophia was texting naked photos to—she's an adult, a grown woman who can do whatever she likes in this regard. But still. Almost against my will, as if drawn by some outside force, I lifted the phone and examined the photo again.

My little girl—my same smiling, cute little girl—somehow had a woman's body attached to her smiling face. I blinked slowly and looked at the photo more carefully, with less shock and confusion than with my first viewing.

Obviously, I recognized her. And I'd seen Sophia topless at our pool many times over the years, including that summer—as recently as the week before. Over time, in passing, I'm sure I'd clinically noted that her breasts had developed. To me, however, they were just a natural part of my daughter—she had a cute figure and corresponding cute compact boobs. I'd also occasionally seen Sophia fully nude, but usually briefly, in passing or at a distance. But never like this.

The photo in my hand showed my daughter totally naked and graphically posed. Sophia faced the camera squatting with her legs open, with one hand on her inner thigh next to her pussy, pulling it slightly to the side and the other cupping and lifting her breast. Her smile wasn't mischievous after all; it was an alluring, sensual half-smile. Her sexual expression, eyes boring into the camera with wanton desire, was something unrecognizable on my daughter. Not my little Sophia.

As I looked at the toned young woman on my phone, I noted her soft, well-formed breasts—a whole handful at least—with deep pink, perfect nipples, and I felt a warm flutter in my belly. Her toned abs reached between her hipbones and her rounded mons and vulva. Her wavy inner labia peeked out between soft, closely trimmed, almost black feathery pubic hair and aroused puffy outer lips.

My cock stirred involuntarily in my shorts. I was seeing my daughter Sophia for the first time as a sexy, hot woman. A naked, aroused woman. I looked away from the phone and tried to will my swelling dick to stop reacting.

Fucking, hell, man, you're getting turned on by your own daughter. Get control of yourself here.

I gave a final quick glance at my daughter's pic—okay, maybe a lingering look—and swiped the phone back to its home screen and slipped it into my pocket. Took a few deep breaths. Didn't have a clue how to react or what to do.

I sat down heavily on a stool at our kitchen island and pondered. I took a long swig of iced tea. As I mulled things over, I absentmindedly swirled the base of the glass in the rings of condensation on the counter. I batted and spun my wife Angeline's phone with my finger; she'd left it on the counter before going upstairs to shower after an afternoon of sunning and swimming. I kicked my foot lightly on the side of the island. My mind raced.

Reasoning that sending the photo was accidental, I could make light of the error and text Sophia back, telling her I believed she had meant this for someone else. That would be embarrassing for her, but it would address the matter, and we could laugh and move past it.

Or, I could wait and see if she catches the mistake and says or does something herself. Or wait and mention it in person. That might be uncomfortable and embarrassing for us both.

For a millisecond, a niggling thought flashed that maybe the text was not an accident. I instantly shoved that idea back into the dark recesses of my mind to join the ranks of the unthinkable and dismissed it. My daughter couldn't have intentionally sent a sexy nude to her Dad. Certainly—well, pretty sure—not.

I considered whether a different person sent it to me using Sophia's phone, either accidentally or intentionally, as a joke or to embarrass Sophia. I also weighed whether to tell Sophia's mother, Angeline, before doing anything else to get her take on things.

Finally, I decided the best course of action was to talk with Angeline because I knew that she and Sophia were very close. I hoped that my wife might have a better feel for how to handle things.

Standing to go upstairs, I noticed a text message notification on Angeline's phone. We knew each other's passcodes and often used each other's phones to answer, make a call or text, check our mutual calendar, or send messages. I casually picked up her phone and opened the text without a second thought.

The text was addressed to "Mom & Dad," part of a chain discussing our summer plans to go to a local lakeside resort. My eyes widened as I saw that the most recent text was from Sophia, with an attached photo—THE photo.

I paused as I absorbed this new information and shook my head. I looked at my phone and noted that the photo I'd received was also in the "Mom & Dad" chain, but I hadn't noticed Angeline was included when I first saw it. My surprise turned to amusement. I chuckled, firmly convinced by this new information that the photo had to have been sent by accident.

Oh, this is rich; Sophia accidentally sent the nude to both of us. Can't wait for Angeline to learn about this; teasing our daughter about careless texting will be fun.

I felt relieved to no longer be alone in this debacle.

I dropped Angeline's phone into my pocket and headed off to surprise my sexy, hopefully still-naked-showering wife with our daughter's little blooper. But I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and quirked my head with a random logical thought.

How would it have happened for Sophia to text the picture accidentally? To both of us. She would have seen the previous conversation with our names in the chat.

I reasoned that maybe Sophia's intended recipient had a text next to our chat in a list of her text conversations, and she could have inadvertently clicked the wrong one. I supposed that was possible.

As an alternative scenario, I again considered the possibility that a third person had used Sophia's phone and sent the text and picture, maybe without Sophia's knowledge. I pulled out Angeline's phone again and opened it to her texts. "Mom & Dad" was the most recent text—our group chain that included the nude.

The message before that was to "Mom." Curious but without particular expectations, I clicked on the messages in that chain. There was a long, sporadic exchange of earlier texts over time: going shopping, notifying going out, asking to borrow the car, that she'd picked up dry cleaning, a picture of Sophia and her girlfriend in a restaurant eating sushi, and some GIF of a dog kissing a duck or something. I scrolled to earlier messages and stopped at one that caught my attention.

The text read, "Remember this?" A photo showed Sophia standing nude in the kitchen with her back to the camera, looking over her shoulder, and smiling. A lovely picture, but the written question piqued my curiosity more than the actual photograph.

It wasn't unusual for there to be non-sexual nudity in our family. We were comfortable with casual nudity at home, such as changing or going to and from the shower. Angeline and our two girls, Sophia and her older sister Marie, would often go topless or even nude at our private swimming pool, and I would sometimes do the same. However, as the girls got older, when we were all together, they tended to keep their bottoms on, and I generally wore swimsuits.

The kitchen nude photo was an innocent-looking shot, as if Sophia had popped in from outside at the pool to grab a drink or something. Knowing that my wife and daughters enjoyed the sun

au naturale

, being nude like that wasn't particularly noteworthy.

Although I told myself the nude of Sophia was nothing out of the ordinary, I couldn't help but notice that my daughter had an adorable, round, and well-toned butt. I chalked up that thought to my earlier newfound revelations about her adult womanly body. I tried to focus on my task at hand.

As I stood staring at the photo of my daughter's naked backside, curiosity caused me to wonder why grabbing something from the kitchen—even nude— would be memorable.

What was Sophia asking Angeline to remember?

I scrolled back through my wife and daughter's text chain, going back almost six months, but saw nothing similar. However, my interest was kindled, so I tapped the photos tab on Angeline's phone and began randomly scrolling through many photos and videos.

Angeline had over three thousand pictures and nearly a thousand videos on her phone—some beautiful, some fun, and so many silly things. There were too many to effectively scan through, so I clicked on "Albums," hoping Angeline might have better organized her photos.

I found a variety of album collections, such as "Family," "European Trip," and "Recipes." And a cryptic album labeled "Misc Records." It was nondescript and ambiguous—the type of name one would pass over as uninteresting or unimportant.

So I clicked on it.

The album had dozens of cute photos of Sophia. In her bikini, jeans, shorts with a t-shirt, and wrapped up in a robe by the couch. Cuddling our cat, Mittens, Cooking by the stove, and laughing with girlfriends. I scrolled and saw a couple more slightly risqué shots like the one in the kitchen and several of her topless out by the pool. I no longer pretended I wasn't appreciating my daughter's sexy body.

The next swipe through the album caused my eyes to widen and hone in with interest—I was past getting shocked by photos by that point. The album contained many more explicit nudes. Revealing, sexy, and overtly sexual pics of Sophia. Like the one I'd received. Naked from the front, back, and side, standing, squatting, crawling. Always smiling happily—or more accurately, sensually.

My eyes drank in several dozen photos with multiple views of my daughter's ass, tits, legs, belly, and pussy. Standing full-frontal or sitting, squatting with her legs together and others with her legs spread and her pussy open and exposed. And wet. Pics of Sophia lying on her front, thrusting her ass up, and on her hands and knees from behind, pulling her bum cheek to the side, showing her pussy peeking between her legs. Covering her naked pussy demurely or sliding her fingers between her wet labia.

Photos were taken straight on, from above looking down, and from low down angling up. All in and around our house. Kitchen, living room, pool, and bathroom. All on my wife's phone. Sophia's mother's phone.

I squirmed as my dick hardened painfully in my tightened shorts. I was turned on by the sexy photos of my daughter and couldn't deny it. Sophia was gorgeous. Beautiful. Alluring. A hot, sexy, fuckable woman. Her smiling face and twinkling dark eyes seemed to focus right on me. Teasing, tempting. But she was my daughter.

Shit, how can I be perving over my own daughter like this?

My struggle with incestuous guilt evaporated as it dawned on me that my wife probably took all those pictures. That seemed most likely since they were stored on her phone. I imagined the two of them—my wife and daughter—wandering from place to place, setting up explicit poses, and taking sexy photos.

What have they been up to? Was Angeline naked as well when she took these pics? That would be hot as fuck.

I nodded to myself. My wife, Angeline—a beautiful, sexy, hot, alluring woman—most certainly had taken the amazing sexual photos of our adult teenage daughter. That thought caused my cock to throb and warmth to spread from my balls to my belly. I wondered how it happened, what led to such an endeavor—whether it was just fun picture time or if my wife and daughter were physically doing sexual things.

Fucking hell, I'm so damn horny now. Angeline's going to get a wild surprise fuck soon.

I scooted back to the kitchen, where I had found Angeline's phone, and Airdropped all of the sexy photos of Sophia to myself. I sat and scrolled quickly through the other Albums on Angeline's phone but found no other sexy pics.

Then I wondered whether Sophia had also taken pics of her mother, Angeline. Whether the photo shoot was set up only as a photographer and subject or as a mutual effort trading off who posed.

Oh, that would be so hot if they took naked sex pics of each other. I wonder where Angeline's pictures would be? Most likely on Sophia's phone, or maybe downloaded somewhere?

Unsure of what to do, I decided not to confront my wife or daughter right away. I needed time to process what I had found and to investigate further to learn more about the situation, including why my wife had secret explicit photos of our daughter in the first place. I also wanted to figure out if there were any sexy photos of Angeline somewhere. In the meantime, I would keep my discovery to myself, at least for the immediate future.

I put Angeline's phone back on the kitchen counter where I found it, feeling somehow naughty, aroused, and intrigued all at once. And by that point, I was decidedly horny. The combination of erotic photos, the circumstances of their discovery, and the knowledge that my hot wife was upstairs, probably naked or close to it, made my adrenaline spike and my cock surge with arousal.

I could worry about the nudes of our daughter later. Now, it was time to seek real-life sexual relief, which hopefully awaited me on the second floor.

I climbed the stairs and headed to our en suite bathroom, where the shower had stopped running a while ago. I always loved seeing Angeline naked in the shower—despite having been married for almost 25 years—and hoped to catch her in some semblance of undress. My hard-on returned to full mast on my way upstairs as I imagined and hoped to find my hot wife in her birthday suit. I was not disappointed.

Angeline was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, drying her hair. In movies, TV, and probably often in real life, women frequently wrap a towel around themselves above their breasts after a shower, usually with a matching turban towel on their wet hair. Not Angeline, fortunately for me. Instead, she stood nude, uncovered, exuding feminine beauty.

I stood in the bathroom doorway and watched Angeline's full, grapefruit-size breasts sway and wobble with the movement of her raised arms; her nipples were erect in the relatively cool air. The muscles in her toned ass rippled as she shifted her weight with her movement. My angle behind and to the side of her, plus the reflection in the mirror, gave me a perfect three-dimensional view of her in her naked glory. My cock pulsed with arousal as she reached, brushed, and dried her hair.

Angeline met my gaze in the mirror and smiled. "Looks like you're either a bit late or right on time."

"Meaning...?" I asked carefully, amused but a bit puzzled.

"Well, on the one hand, you missed your chance to join me or watch me in the shower, which I know you love. But on the other hand, I'm done cleaning up, I'm dry, and available now..." Angeline purposely dropped her eyes to the prominent bulge in my shorts. "In case you have ideas other than showering." She tipped her head coyly and ran the tip of her tongue along her upper lip, then waggled her round, firm bum at me.

I paused a moment as my mind superimposed the sexy images of our naked daughter on her mother, then took and exhaled a deep breath. Our daughter Sophia looked so much like a younger Angeline. Both were incredibly sexy—I was fortunate to have two such beautiful women in my life.

"That obvious, huh?" I said with a grin. "Believe it or not, this—" I gestured down to my crotch— "happened because I was picturing you naked while I walked up the stairs."

"Mmm. Well, glad I didn't disappoint. I was having some pretty naughty thoughts of my own in the shower and hoped you would try to catch me."

"Enjoyed the handheld shower, did you?" I smirked.

"A little—enough to be ready, willing, and able to ... mmm, you decide."

All thoughts of pictures of our daughter fled my mind, and I honed in on Angeline like an attacking shark. I wrapped my arms around her torso from behind and made a grrr-ing sound as I pretended to bite her neck, causing her to giggle. Then I slid one hand up onto one of her boobs and dropped the other to her hips by her pussy, and rocked her side to side with a twisting motion.

Angeline laughed and pivoted around to face me, her eyes flaring with desire. Her full tits brushed across my chest, then mashed against me as we mutually pulled together in a passionate kiss. I cupped her toned ass, my fingers playfully tickling the edge of her pussy from behind.

"Mmm," Angeline murmured. "I think you're overdressed here."

I pulled back slightly and drank in my wife's ravishing body as she breathed rapidly with arousal. Captivated by her full breasts rising with her heaving chest, I briefly compared them to our daughter's. Angeline's boobs were larger, and her nipples—brownish-tinged with pink—were slightly darker than Sophia's, which leaned darker pink. Both women's boobs were naturally firm with delightfully round nipples, perfect in my eyes.