The Descent

Sharon stepped into the hallway from the room that Rich remained panting and recuperating in, wanting to rejoin the barbeque in the most nonchalant way she could—despite the streaks of cum on her bikini bottom from her leaking cunt. She was also acutely aware of Jim having been absent from his previously occupied spot on the patio near the end of her sexual adventure with Rich and wondered how intently he had been trying to locate her.

Sharon wondered to herself about the possibilities of his snooping and the implications therein. Sharon contemplated whether she particularly cared to even hide her growing boldness and burgeoning infidelity. What was he honestly going to do? Divorce her? Sharon seriously couldn't believe that Jim would blow up their lives because she'd strayed outside the lines of an arrangement that he himself had advocated for.

It was far more likely that Jim would simply sink into his role as 'second fiddle' in her life as she pursued her other, more interesting conquests. Perhaps, she thought, after she sowed her wild oats for a few years they'd settle back into relative normalcy and no one—other than her closest friends and her snooping daughter—would be the wiser. But of course, Sharon didn't ponder this reality too hard as she drifted back to other things—like getting another drink and doing some lines with Barb and her entire body screaming for a cigarette.

She decided to head toward the bathroom down the hall, at least wanting to wipe the sweat from her brow and adjust her hair a bit in case more people showed up. Sharon stepped into the expansive guest bathroom and flicked the row of vanity lights on that glowed brightly above an unbroken mirror that ran the length of two sinks couched inside of a white marble countertop. She silently appreciated how gorgeous it all was before peering at herself in the huge mirror.

Her eyeliner was a bit smudged and her hair was a tad shaken around but overall, she didn't really look like she'd just taken a fat cock and a thick load mere moments ago. She wiped her brow of sweat and played with her hair a bit before licking her finger and trying to clean up the slight smudge on her eyeliner. After she was sufficiently appeased with her appearance, Sharon peed and headed back to her purse and her brown vial of coke and pack of Marlboro Light 100's with a singular focus.

Amanda panted and laid her head against the similarly panting shoulder of her father's light-blue button up. She was extremely fucked-up. It took a lot for her to reach a debilitating level of inebriation given her daily use of marijuana, but Amanda had gotten dangerously close. She had warned her father of a couch-locked cannabis coma and she was sure that she was about two hits away from that state herself. It might've only been her tolerance and incredible appetite for sex in the moment that had staved off her noticing it until the present moment.

Conversely, being nearly physically impaired in that moment meant that Amanda could revel in the sensation of her pussy leaking her father's cum all over his lap. Suddenly a pang of panic gripped her, and she adjusted herself in his lap and stood shakily up to her feet—cupping her crotch quickly.

She shot her attention down to Jim's crotch and noticed that a healthy wetness and a few slick splotches had appeared around the slit of his boxer shorts but had not made it to his khaki's yet. Amanda sighed in relief and plopped herself down on another chair that flanked the one Jim was sitting on.

"What was that about?" Jim croaked.

"Standing up or like... everything else?" Amanda answered.

Jim pondered a moment before answering.

"Well, both," he replied.

Amanda sighed, not annoyed but also not really wanting to really dive into anything other than the pool.

"Thought it would be fun, so I got you stoned and took advantage of ya," she winked, a playfulness and a lack of concern that utterly flabbergasted Jim.

"But, you're my

daughter

, Amanda," Jim emphasized, perhaps for both of their sakes.

Amanda smiled crookedly and rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, I know. But what's weird is that you haven't really

felt

like my dad for a long time. You've really been like my cool older friend, buying me cigarettes and beer and letting me have some fun while mom has been a pain in my ass."

Jim's eyes searched Amanda's expression for more but found nothing. He had a hard time believing that's all that she had needed to cross such a taboo boundary.

"Plus, ya know, this has been a weird couple of months, ya know? Mom turning into a cokehead, swinger parties in the kitchen, everybody smoking and drinking and getting high all day randomly now," Amanda went on.

Jim nodded to himself and Amanda, realizing that in the land of topsy-turvy the weird didn't seem so weird anymore. So many things had changed, he struggled to even comprehend them all—but he felt differently about something as outlandish as incest. The journey from A to B was still just a little too incomprehensible. Luckily for Amanda, it hadn't prevented what had happened but for Jim he would probably need to do some processing.

"Well, I'm gonna go take a dip in the pool," Amanda declared, standing up and smiling in a way that could only be described as 'stoned.'

Jim nodded but failed to find any words and sat in silence as Amanda disappeared down the hallway toward the patio.

Sharon tried discreetly to bring a pinky-full of coke to her nose and sniff, while scanning her periphery nervously from the back of the patio. The sliding glass door opened to reveal Amanda as she was taking care of her other nostril and she quickly tucked the vial back into her purse and extracted her pack of cigarettes. Sharon lit herself up as Amanda approached and stood a few feet away at her own purse, doing the same.

"Who would've guessed it? The two Weaver women chain-smoking together after all these years," Amanda called out playfully.

Sharon turned to her daughter and smiled, less annoyed now that she'd gotten a couple of nostrils full of coke and a load of cum into her.

"Wouldn't change a thing," Sharon replied, taking a drag on her cigarette as testament.

"Same here," Amanda agreed, exhaling a stream of smoke out of the side of her mouth languidly.

Sharon noticed her daughter for the first time that day, her thick breasts practically falling out of her top and her barely-there bikini bottoms woefully inadequate to cover her thick ass.

"You're really pushing it with that outfit," Sharon mused, cocking her eyebrow in a motherly fashion that had been absent for quite some time.

Amanda rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses and smiled, huffing out another lungful of smoke through a toothy grin.

Instead of responding Amanda just tapped her nose with her pointer finger in an exaggerated motion. It took a moment for Sharon's intoxicated brain to catch-up, but she immediately realized what she was doing and turned away, wiping her nose furiously.

"I'm just fucking with ya, mom. You're fine, but glass houses and all-that, right?" Amanda chuckled.

Sharon felt her face burn hot with embarrassment and she remained turned away from her daughter for a few more moments before composing herself enough to face her again.

"I guess you're right, why hide it? We're a couple of bad girls," Sharon relented, noticing a growing sense of camaraderie between them.

They both chuckled this time, both women feeling closer than they'd felt in a long time.

"What's the deal with the," Amanda stopped mid-sentence and tapped her nostril, "you know, good stuff? Are you hooked on that or just having some fun?" she continued.

Sharon thought about it only briefly, not too concerned about it either way.

"I don't really think about it, I just do it. It feels good and that's all that really matters to me at the moment," Sharon answered.

Amanda nodded to herself, somewhat impressed with her mothers' willingness to be so frank with her.

"You ever gonna, share?" Amanda baited, a grin and a cocked eyebrow accentuating her question.

Sharon laughed heartily, even throwing her head back a bit in response.

"Come on, it wouldn't be my first time you know," Amanda lied, knowing her mother wouldn't be able to call her bluff anyways.

Sharon's laugh died down and she thought about it a moment. They were smoking together, drinking together, was there really a big difference?

"Sure, it's the brown vial in my purse, you can't miss it," Sharon motioned behind her, enjoying another long pull on her cigarette.

Amanda resisted the urge to jump out of her skin in excitement. Truthfully, she hadn't ever done coke but that was only because she hadn't gotten the opportunity. There was no moral boundary that had prevented it, only a social circle of nerdy stoners who didn't have the right connections holding her back. To say that she was anticipating it would have been an understatement.

Snapping back to the reality of her current good fortune, Amanda walked over to her mother's purse and removed the brown glass vial that had been conspicuously dropped a few minutes ago. Amanda marveled at it a moment, smiling, and watching the powder react to her twirling it in her fingers.

"Barb gives me some bomb weed and now my mom giving me coke, this day is awesome," Amanda recited, leaving out the part where her father had given her his seed.

"Don't go too crazy, it's pure," Sharon cautioned as she walked to the drink cart and left Amanda to her devices.

Amanda realized that she really didn't know what she was doing and her false bravado had robbed her of the chance to be walked through it by her mother—who was now gabbing with Barb at the drink cart and getting even

more

drunk on another cocktail. Luckily, Amanda had watched a lot of movies and knew approximately what to do even without any personal experience.

She dipped her stubby pinky nail into the vial and tried scooping a mound of coke, cursing her tendency to chew on her nails. After several attempts she was able to get a measly amount and carefully ferry it up to her right nostril. In one violent sniff she rocketed the powder to the deepest regions of her nasal cavity and to the back of her throat. The numbness shocked her, and it felt cold in her sinuses.

"Whoa," Amanda said to herself.

She went back to the vial and dug her pinky back in for another attempt, this time achieving more success. Carefully observing her steadiness Amanda was able to bring the larger heap of coke to her left nostril and repeat her previous action. The numbness and tingling intensified with the increased sample size and Amanda felt an indescribable sense of pleasure sweep through her. She was immediately in love with it.

Amanda repeated the process once more for each nostril before remembering her mother's warning and placing it back into her purse begrudgingly. She realized that what she really wanted was to take the vial into the house and arrange it into a few lines and do it all right then. There was something that had been activated—a trigger that had been pulled or a lever—and she knew that she wanted to do a lot more coke.

Amanda suddenly felt an intense desire to light up another cigarette, so she walked back to her purse and extracted another Camel Crush. She lit herself up and basked in the sun and the pleasure of all the substances that were swimming in her bloodstream and eyed the pool again. She would need to take a dip soon, she thought.

"He fucked my brains out," Sharon half-whispered to Barb as they nursed another vodka mixer.

"He must've really pushed himself because he's still back there, probably sleeping it off," Barb chuckled.

"Speaking of which, where is Jim?" Sharon asked.

"Oh, he joined your daughter for some 420 time, and I think it probably blew his mind. He's probably catatonic in the cigar room," Barb laughed again.

Sharon laughed to herself again, impressed with herself.

"

Lightweights

," she joked, taking another sip of her stout drink despite the fact that she was already sloshed.

"So, is there really anyone else coming to this thing or was it just a big ruse?" Sharon asked, eyebrow cocked in suspicion.

For a moment Barb raised her hand to her chest in mock injury before her face broke out in a wide grin.

"I knew it, you conniving bitch!" Sharon replied in-kind, letting out a hearty laugh.

Barb joined her in a musical laugh before regaining her composure.

"No, actually we did shoot out some invites on Facebook, but it wasn't for until later. You were the only ones expected to arrive this early, all the other fun happens this evening," Barb continued, drawing Sharon in.

"

Really?

What fun are we talking about? And who are these other potential attendees?" Sharon pressed, now eagerly anticipating the direction the evening may take after what had been a thoroughly enjoyable day.

"You'll just have to stick around to find out," Barb countered, playing things close to the chest in an effort to further entice her interested friend.

Sharon opened her mouth to start to reply but decided against it. She knew her friend was going to keep her mouth shut, regardless of how blasted she was. It was obvious to Sharon that Barb wanted to ensure she remain in attendance and knew that withholding information was a sure-fire way to accomplish that result. She smiled deviously at her friend, accepting her terms, and accepting another cigarette from her.

"I don't know if I'll even be able to stand by the time the sun goes down, I haven't been pacing myself for something like this," Sharon admitted, realizing she was extremely drunk, and it was barely 2pm.

"Well, did you bring enough coke to keep yourself going? As long as I'm taking bumps every so often, I can keep drinking like a fish," Barb commented.

"I brought quite a bit, a vial and then another 8-ball but Amanda probably just snorted her way through half my vial," Sharon mused.

"What? You gave your daughter coke? Are you fucking serious?" Barb laughed out loud incredulously.

"Oh, don't act so shocked. She caught me already and it's hardly been a secret. She wanted some and she came right out and told me it wasn't her first time. I don't understand why I should even bother pretending that all this stuff hasn't been happening behind my back all this time now that I'm being real about what I want and who I am. I just said, 'fuck it,' if she wants a bump of my coke, at least I know it's not cut with bath salts or Clorox," Sharon explained, ending her explanation with a shrug and a monstrous pull on her cigarette.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised anymore but wow, sometimes you still do it," Barb sighed, smiling to herself and shaking her head.

The rest of the day went by much the same. Jim eventually made it out of the house and back onto the patio when the effects of the pot had worn off and he had some time to think. Rich did, in fact, pass out in the chair in his office after fucking Sharon and awoke a couple of hours later and re-showered and dressed for the evening.

Both Sharon and Barb kept drinking, smoking, and gossiping away while getting coked out of their minds. Amanda mostly kept to herself, the high of the coke wearing off fairly quickly and leaving her with a combination of the drunkenness from her many cocktails and being stoned from the weed that pinned her to the pool recliners in-between intermittent dips in the pool.

The doorbell rang with the first guest at 7:13pm. Having been completely unprepared, both Amanda and Sharon had borrowed some clothes from Barb, so they weren't having to wear their bikini's. Amanda had squeezed herself into an aquamarine cocktail dress that Barb didn't even recognize as her own after it was discovered in the back of her giant closet.

Sharon had a lot to choose from as she was closer to Barb in terms of her frame and had chosen a black Ives Saint Laurent dress with a plunging neckline and an ample view of her mid-thigh through the intentionally uneven frills that hung silkily from her waist. Barb went with a burnt orange sleeveless dress that had a bit of a pencil skirt style and extended up to her neck where a ring of fabric wrapped around. It was a slightly demurer outfit from the normally 'always flashy' woman with wild red hair but Sharon enjoyed the opportunity to be the 'sexy one' for a change.

Jim borrowed a pair of ill-fitting slacks from Rich and Barb's son that he wore when he was 16 years old. Both Rich and his son were very large men and the only thing available was something that should've been thrown out 4 years ago and was worn to a high-school dance before a summer growth spurt relegated the pants to obscurity. Even still, Jim was thankful to have something to wear, considering he had only expected an early afternoon BBQ and certainly not where he found himself at that moment.

The first visitors were another 40-50 something couple—a man in his late 40's to early 50's with a fuzzy black and grey goatee and a spikey grey head of hair. He was heavily moisturized and tanned and looked like he had been basting earlier that day. His wife was an auburn haired woman in her mid-40's with bangs and thin lips. She wasn't ugly, but she certainly looked like she'd be more at home at a church event. Even still, she hung closely to her boisterous husband as he made jokes and exchanged greetings.

About 15 minutes later the bell rang again and a man in his 50's arrived with a woman in her 20's. It appeared to be a classic 'sugar daddy' situation and the bubbly blonde bobblehead woman had the fake tits and plastic faced accoutrements to prove it. She had obviously had a ton of work done, but none of the men present were objecting to the result. Big, thick lips filled with countless sessions of lip-filler centered her features and the sculped nose, brows, cheeks, chin, and general Botox rounded it out to produce an otherworldly quality ordinarily reserved for pornstars and Instagram models.

The spiky haired man in particular made every attempt to chat her up, her husband hardly even seeming to notice—his bald head shining off the lights in the house and his dark eyes sparkling while he introduced himself.

It was a veritable meat-market for Sharon, and she simply couldn't wait to see who was going to present for an opportunity at seduction. She slithered through the room and while everyone was supplied their choice of cocktail, she surveyed her options. Her cleavage pressed angrily against the tightness of her dress and she knew the way her flesh bulged out from under its prison must have been salivatory to look at. The bald man, Gene, hadn't given her much attention but the spikey haired man named Julian often did a double take and flashed his artificially white teeth at her from the sofa.

Sharon was still riding high on a combination of alcohol and cocaine and could've easily surpassed the 'two packs' of cigarettes mark by this point, doing nothing to discourage her to continue to indulge in the cigarette perched artfully next to her face with a cocked elbow.

Not to limit herself, she also looked to the women. Sharon obviously enjoyed the sight of the over-the-top sexuality of the plastic queen named Chloe, but the more reserved woman particularly interested her. Sarah, as she had learned her name, was a strange addition to this party and didn't at all seem like she fit—at least to Sharon. Barb had imparted no advanced knowledge to her about any of the evening's patrons, so her presence remained a mystery that pulled at her mind.

More than that though, Sharon found her strangely alluring. She was cutesy and appeared somewhat withdrawn and 'wall-flowery' to Sharon. It reminded her of herself for most of her life and she longed to pervert this characterization of her former self. If that wasn't possible, she wanted to shatter her. Something primal was raging inside of Sharon to break this woman out of the sleepwalk she appeared to be in, and if she couldn't do it by introducing her to pleasure, she wanted to do it by pain.