The Descent

What had initially been an obligation that Sharon was intent on getting out of, the barbeque had shifted to an opportunity to 'get into some more trouble' with Barb. After their wild 'brunch' the previous day, both women had gone back to the café to drink, debrief, and game plan. After a couple of hours, they'd both driven home drunk, high, and full of exciting future plans for their continued dabbles in marital infidelity.

It had also represented a definitive shift in the nature of their relationship. While Sharon had always held Barb in high regard as her best friend and most trusted confidant, this new chapter of their relationship had brought them much closer and now Sharon viewed Barb in a dual role—both as a partner in crime and a possible lover.

Sharon was still quite inexperienced with women, having only had the one experience at the swinger event—but it had left an indelible mark on her and opened her eyes to a much wider world of sexual endeavors. Now that Barb had clearly expressed interest in her and they'd begun this new phase of their relationship, Sharon was more than a little excited to see what it would be like to fuck her best friend of 30 years. In a way, it was like a reintroduction.

But of course, what excited her most was how free and unrestrained she felt in her presence. Barb had a unique way of disarming her inhibitions and dissolving her guilt. It was an incredible sense of relief to connect with a person with the same unspoken desires and none of the guilt, shame, or bargaining that ordinarily accompanied them. Barb made it okay—

preferable

even—to have morally and ethically ambiguous passions and pursue them with license—simply because it

felt good

.

It was a magnificent sense of freedom and was as addicting as anything she'd yet experienced.

And speaking of addictions; Sharon had slowed nothing down in that area. While they'd hoovered their way through her vial of coke yesterday, Sharon kept the train going upon returning home that evening. She didn't bother to cook dinner or interact much with her family—despite her earlier comment about 'needing to be more attentive.' Instead she locked herself away from Jim and Amanda and railed lines in the bathroom while texting Barb and scrolling through Facebook. She'd even made a 'Tinder' profile and started prowling there.

Her appetite for pleasure had been unleashed and there would be no stone left unturned in her pursuits to satiate it.

Which brought her back to the present—a somewhat awkward car ride where none of the passengers appeared overly interested in interacting with one another.

Jim hummed nervously to himself in the driver's seat to the radio that played classic rock—currently something by Joe Crocker. He hadn't engaged in much attempt to spark conversation, instead resigning himself to trying to maintain a little bit of his normal self in preparation for what was to come. He was also finding it increasingly hard to keep his eyes from the rearview mirror, where Amanda flashed sly grins at him any chance she got.

The event on the couch the previous day had been a terrifying, confusing, and exciting experience that prompted a million different thoughts and emotions that Jim felt ill-equipped to process or understand at the moment. Amanda—on the other hand—seemed perfectly at-ease with it, which represented a point of confusion for Jim in and of itself.

Jim had to admit to himself that even he was feeling some sense of guilt and regret and might've preferred to have Amanda sit this one out while he gained some distance and hopefully some perspective on the meaning and implications of this new chapter in his relationship with his daughter—but Amanda had been persistent and utterly uncompromising.

She had all but demanded to be included in this 'family' event and even hinted at a threat to be more casual with her knowledge of their marital life if denied—although she had mostly bluffed at that and intended it to be directed in her mother's direction. The ultimate motivation for her insistence was largely fueled by curiosity and the nervous excitement she relived every time she remembered seeing her parents 'partner swapping' that night last month.

Perhaps out of a desire to understand her fascination with it, she'd decided that if history repeated itself at this event, she absolutely

had

to bear witness to it at the very least. The unpredictable nature of what she might see infused her with a tingling electricity that moistened her panties and continually ignited a desire to further enmesh herself in the proceedings—which so far had translated into lip-biting looks of flirtation and silent insinuations of passion directed toward her father at every opportunity. That itself had been exciting, especially while it occurred under her mother's nose and without her notice.

Amanda's choice of attire was a reflection of her eagerness to stoke her involvement as well. A warm summer day next to the pool meant she could 'slut it up' casually and

mostly

inconspicuously—although she may have pushed the envelope in that regard.

She'd chosen a white net dress that essentially did nothing to hide the pink and yellow tie-dye bikini top that was a half-size too small and squeezed her ample breasts in a perpetual 'about to fall out' manner. The belly ring that her mother had once voiced intense disapproval of was on full display adorning her easily visible belly area that remained smooth and flat—an indication of her youth despite her penchant for munchies and getting stoned all day instead of doing yoga and drinking kale smoothies like so many other beauty-obsessed girls in the valley.

While she had considered it, Amanda decided against going bottomless aside from her bikini thong. She mostly decided to wear a tiny pair of yellow booty shorts out of sympathy for her father—who would likely appreciate her toning it down

ever so slightly

to avoid provoking an awkward erection whenever she walked by. Still, she was only barely interested in this line of reasoning and once she hit the back patio and pool area fully intended to tease and tempt him with her thick ass every chance she got.

Sharon was barely present. She sat in the front passenger seat staring blankly out the window and daydreaming about a great many things. There wasn't much of an interval between her Marlboro Light's these days and she'd basically given up any attempts at restraining herself to a certain number per day. She'd simply accepted that she felt better with a smoldering All-White 100 between her fingers and found herself slipping into it as her default state at this point. The drive was no exception, and she languidly pulled on her cigarette and only somewhat paid attention to exhaling up toward the open sunroof.

Amanda joined her, smoking a couple of her own and noticing Jim glancing her way a little less inconspicuously as a result—a mystery she made a mental note of and intended on unraveling in the future.

The tense drive ended 20 minutes after it began with the Weaver family pulling into the expansive driveway of Rich and Barb's large single story villa. Consisting of over 3,000 square feet in a U-shaped floor plan, it was an impressive piece of real estate. The long driveway stretched a couple hundred feet from the cul-de-sac and situated the house near the back of the property where the U-shaped floorplan provided perfect cover for the large back patio, pool, and yard. Being in the hills, stepping to the edge of the rear of the property afforded a gorgeous view of the valley from behind the waist-high fence.

While Sharon and Jim's home was impressive in its own right, it was far more reserved and represented a different approach to the same concept—albeit without a pool.

Walking up to the house Sharon detected a tinge of nervous excitement manifest behind her belly button as she prepared to see Barb and Rich again—both of whom she'd engaged in some manner of sexual escapades with last time they'd met. While her expectations for this barbeque were tempered by the seemingly 'family-friendly' nature it intended and the presence of her ever-watchful daughter—Sharon was still awash in the possibilities that await her.

Greetings were exchanged and pleasantries doled out and it seemed like nothing had changed—at least perceptibly. Imperceptibly there were countless changes to nearly every facet of the relationship dynamic and both Jim and Sharon wondered how much of that was being picked up on by Amanda. Silently, Sharon hoped that she could avoid drawing her daughter's suspicion while she lounged in the pool or sunbathed so she could sneak away with Barb or Rich or both at some point or another.

Jim was—as had become natural for him during these recent weeks—going through the motions. The main reason he was intent on attending was to assuage any concerns his friends had that something was amiss, especially being that the last time they were all together was for a 'couple swapping' night of debauchery. He also longed to assume a level of normalcy where they could pretend, at least for a time, to be a normal family again doing normal things. Even if it wasn't an accurate representation of the truth, it was a charade that Jim longed to reconnect with even on a superficial level.

As the group traveled to the back patio area where speakers in the awning lightly played something by Jimmy Buffet, side conversations began to branch off from the general introductions.

"So, are there more coming?" Jim asked lightly to Rich.

"Not sure, we sent out a few invites but it was a low-pressure kind of deal, so I guess we'll just see who shows up," Rich answered in-kind.

Jim nodded in understanding.

"You guys better be hungry, I've got some killer steaks for later," Rich continued.

"Oh yeah? Same ones you got from—who was that guy you got those last ones from again?" Jim followed-up.

"Wade, no, those were good, but I think these are gonna be better. At least they better be for what I paid for em!" Rich continued, trying to build some excitement for the grilling adventures to come.

"Better? Those were already the best damn steaks I've ever had so consider me interested," Jim effused, actually genuinely excited for what Rich had on offer.

Sharon and Barb were leaned in close to preserve the privacy of their conversation while the men openly discussed food.

"Did you bring your 'little brown friend'?" Barb almost whispered.

In response, Sharon just smiled knowingly which conveyed everything she needed.

"Have I told you today that I fucking love you?" Barb exclaimed half-hushed and half-yelling.

Sharon laughed musically, the effect of her friend's presence working to magically absolve her doubts, worries, and concerns.

The back patio wasn't just big, it was borderline

grotesque

. While some people struggled to make rent in cramped 1-bedroom apartments in this part of the city, Rich and Barb could hold an outdoor festival. It was a testament to the excess of their lifestyle and the success of their real estate business.

The texture of the white stone that provided the foundation for it all made a soft scraping noise as boat shoes and flip-flops clip-clapped along its surface. The 36,000 gallon pool was flanked on both sides by the same beautiful white stone and the twin hallways of the house, both visible through the 6 feet of glass that ran their entire length. Looking out past the pool was the back patio and lounge area with several pool recliners and giant 'picnic' bench set against the backdrop of the valley below.

"God, I love this place," Amanda whispered to herself.

"Tell your parents to move out here! They have plenty of money, why live in the burbs when you can live like this in the valley and be our neighbors to boot!" Barb exclaimed excitedly, although mostly in a teasing fashion.

Jim and Sharon had heard this pitch before, pretty much every time they visited actually. And while in the past it was always met with the same dismissive guffaw accompanied by 'this would be too much for us' or 'we're happy living in the boring suburbs' this time neither Jim nor Sharon said anything. Everything had changed so much about their lifestyles that it seemed more in-line with their current situation to consider it than reject it outright as a matter of course.

"I think we finally got to them," Rich chuckled, taking the silence as an indication of relative success.

"Who knows?" Sharon said smiling—and she meant it.

"I'm ready for a cocktail," Jim responded.

"Oooo, me too!" Amanda agreed readily.

"You're not 21 yet little lady, I'm sure your parents wouldn't approve of that," Barb remarked reflexively.

"It's fine, not like she's breaking new ground. We know what she gets up to on the weekends," Sharon replied slyly.

Amanda's eyes narrowed in surprise and skepticism—unsure if this was really the transition she'd hoped it was after seeing her previously domineering mother slip into her own habits as of late.

"You serious?" Rich followed—equally if not more suspicious and amazed by Sharon' sudden shift.

"Yeah, we're here to have fun and what's she going to do? Might as well be in front of us than behind our backs, right?" Sharon confirmed, offering a wink and smile in Amanda's direction.

Amanda again scrutinized the authenticity of her apparent good fortune before accepting it and nodding back with a crooked smile on her face.

"There you have it! People

can

change, even

after

retirement!" Rich called out, only partially pretending to be unaware of the other changes that he was aware of for the sake of appearances.

Little did he know that no one present, including Amanda, was ignorant to those changes.

With that everyone headed to the impressive drink cart angled under the cool shade of the awning. The black and gold and glass adorned drink repository was consistently themed with the rest of the décor and represented excess, indulgence, and a taste for the finer things.

Speaking of the finer things, each member of the Weaver's took advantage of the generous selection of high-end spirits to pour themselves healthy servings of their drinks of choice. With full tumblers of various colored beverages, they each made their way to the back of the property and made themselves comfortable.

Amanda immediately disrobed, slipping her net-dress over her head and dropping it unceremoniously next to the pool recliner she'd claimed. Next came the tiny yellow booty shorts, before she clipped her hair up and began applying cocoa sun-tan lotion to her legs.

"Hey dad, can you get my back?" Amanda called to Jim, who was trying his best to keep the sight of his half-naked daughter from catching his peripheral vision as he sipped on his whiskey from a lounge chair a few feet away.

His stomach immediately knotted at the thought and hoped his decision to wear blue khaki shorts were going to be enough to prevent any visible indication of a developing erection.

Not wanting to draw suspicion, he calmly stood up and trudged over to Amanda who was sitting on the flat part of the recliner and her back to him.

"Thanks daddy," Amanda cooed in a tone that would have been far too playful if someone was keen on noticing—thankfully no one was—yet.

Jim grabbed the bottle of Tropicana and squirted a nickel-sized pool into the palm of his left hand before sighing audibly. Sitting opposite to Amanda he rubbed his hands together before applying the lotion with as much casual indifference as he could muster.

Jim did his best to ignore the lightly-tanned, flawless skin of his flesh-and-blood daughter and ample curves of her hips. He was only half-successful in this as his continued his application, catching eyefuls of her side-boob and obscene cleavage from over her shoulders.

"Can you get a little lower too? My arms aren't very flexible and I always miss that spot," Amanda pressed, crooked her arm awkwardly to point to her lower back with her thumb.

Jim stifled another sigh and decided on an inconspicuous silence as the most appropriate response as his hands trailed down towards the g-string wrapped ass seated in front of him.

His attention was momentarily compromised as the flick of a lighter snapped his gaze up to see Amanda lighting a cork-tipped Camel Crush Menthol and tilt her head to exhale a luxurious stream of smoke into the cloudless blue sky.

What Jim had not needed was any more reason to be aroused, and his perplexing attraction to smoking women was relevant at precisely the worst time. His resolve broke like a dam being assaulted by the torrid waters of multiple unrelenting floods, his cock swelling in earnest now and remaining utterly defiant to his silent pleas of de-escalation.

Amanda was noticing her father's struggle and loving it. The opportunity to pursue a greater understanding of his interest in her smoking presenting too great a temptation to resist. Now confident that she'd puzzled it out to be a genuine sexual interest, Amanda reveled in her luck at wielding yet another tool of seduction to add to her youthful sexiness and bare-skin.

She took a strong drag on her cigarette and made sure to purse her lips in the most erotic 'kissy face' she could as she turned her head and tilted her chin up for another exhale. In her peripheral vision she again noticed Jim's eyes glance up several times to catch the sight and his hands slow and stutter as his focus failed repeatedly.

"Thanks daddy, I think I'm good," Amanda chirped, more than a little excited to see her father hobble back to his chair in an effort to hide the bulge that was no-doubt present between his legs.

Jim sighed heavily and flipped the cap back down on the bottle of Tropicana as he stood and made his way back to his recliner. He did his best to angle himself away from any prying eyes before flopping back down and immediately scanning his surroundings for looks of suspicion or disgust. Luckily, no one was paying any attention to him and for once that had been a good thing.

Sharon was stretched out on her own pool chair, letting the warmth of the sun on her skin lull her into a state of relaxation. She kept a healthy pace on her sips of a stout rum and coke, enjoying the burn of the alcohol on the back of her throat as she pointed her compass squarely at being drunk by early afternoon. She couldn't remember the last time she'd remained sober for an entire day, but she wasn't interested in making this one of them.

Her dark oversized sunglasses shielded her closed-eyes from the harshness of the sun, and she imagined herself in her mind's eye, her long lithe legs and ample breasts glistening and inviting. She hoped she'd catch the attention of Rich, or Barb, or both as she'd bought a brand new black Chanel bikini for this occasion. Perhaps black wasn't the best choice considering the heat, but the way it fit her convinced her to buy it anyways.

It would be worth it if it did the trick and while her eyes remained closed for stretches of time, she was making sure to peek out and see who was noticing her often.

Barb was inside the house, chopping up some fruit for a platter that would likely be ignored. It was less about what would be useful and more about her interest in the 'ritual' of the event and the accoutrements associated with it. She loved playing hostess, and she loved meeting the stereotypical expectations of certain traditions. It made her feel classic and fanciful in a way that she didn't really need to understand.

Rich was tending to the meat. But he would rather be tending to his

other

meat. He'd already generated a good buzz before the Weavers' had arrived and the bare skin of the two gorgeous women lounging in his backyard was testing his inhibitions.

He expected to want to fuck Sharon again, but the maturation of Amanda into a woman had taken him by surprise. Maybe he didn't notice or didn't pay attention or just didn't see her often enough, but she didn't even look like the quirky teenager he'd remembered. He was going to be fighting his libido all day if everyone was expecting to keep this 'family-friendly' and Rich very much hoped they weren't.